#i think antony should be included here too actually. he still wants to see his dick | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

path-of-my-childhood · 4 years

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Aaron Dessner Talks Taylor Swift’s New Album folklore

By: Sam Sodomsky for Pitchfork Date: July 24th 2020

Like millions of people across the world, Taylor Swift spent the past few months in isolation, stuck at home, changing plans, reflecting on the past, and imagining new connections. One of those new connections was with Aaron Dessner, the multi-instrumentalist and producer from the National.

On release day, he called us from his home in the Hudson Valley to speak about their entirely virtual but highly collaborative process, sounding just as surprised as anyone. “Nobody needs to tell Taylor Swift how to write a song - and I certainly didn’t,” he says with a laugh. “But it did feel like we were going toe-to-toe pushing each other.”

What is your personal relationship with Taylor Swift’s music? I’ve always admired her craftsmanship and talent. But 1989 was the first one I was really listening to as a fan. My brother [Bryce Dessner, guitarist in the National] and I were in Iceland with [performance artist] Ragnar Kjartansson, and he’s a total Swiftie. It was the summer of 1989, and we’d be hanging out listening to it loud. Ragnar is an art historian, so he was just contextualizing every moment. It was a lot of fun. That’s when we became bigger fans.

When did you actually meet her for the first time? We met her at Saturday Night Live in 2014 when Lena Dunham was hosting. And then she came to see us play last summer in Prospect Park during this crazy torrential downpour. She was there with Antoni [Porowski] from Queer Eye. She talked a lot with my brother and me. That’s when we realized how much of a fan she was, and how lovely and down to earth. I don’t know that many people who have that sort of success, so it’s a nice feeling to realize they’re cool. That left a good impression.

She got in touch again at the end of April. I got a text and it said, “Hey it’s Taylor. Would you ever be up for writing songs with me?” I said, “Wow. Of course.” It was a product of this time. Everything we had planned got cancelled. Everything she had planned got cancelled. It was a time when the ideas in the back of your head came to the front. That’s how it started.

You ended up with a credit on 11 of the 16 songs. How did the collaboration get going? At the very beginning of March, Justin Vernon and I had gone to Texas to work on the new Big Red Machine album. I had been living with my family in France as COVID was starting to spiral out of control in Europe. I said to my wife that maybe they should come back to the States with me because I was worried about getting separated. So we got tickets, and my kids and wife flew to [the family’s home in] Upstate New York and I flew to Texas. I was there for a week, and by the time I got back Upstate, the borders were being shut and we got stuck. I have the Long Pond studio here, so in a way it was lucky.

I hunkered down here and started to write a ton of music - more than I ever have. I thought maybe they were National or Big Red Machine ideas or maybe something totally different. Things were happening.

So when [Taylor] reached out, I had this large folder of ideas that were pretty well on their way. She was very clear that she didn’t want me to edit any of my ideas; she wanted to hear everything that was interesting to me at this moment, including really odd, experimental noise. So I made a folder of stuff, including some pretty out-there sketches. A few hours later, she sent “Cardigan,” fully written in a voice memo. That’s when I realized that this was unusual—just the focus and clarity of her ideas. It was pretty astonishing. Over the next couple months, this would just happen; all of a sudden, I’d get a voice memo. And then another. Eventually, it was so inspiring that I wrote more ideas that were specifically in response to what she was writing.

When did it occur to you that an album was forming? There were moments when we started to reflect on what we were doing. The first three songs we wrote were “Cardigan,” “Seven,” and “Peace.” “Cardigan” is probably the closest to a pop song on the record—it’s this epic narrative. And then “Seven” was this nostalgic, wistful, emotional folk song. And then when she wrote “Peace,” I realized she can do anything! She is so versatile. It’s just a harmonized bassline with a pulse and a drone, and she basically wrote a Joni Mitchell love song to it. She only did one vocal take, and that’s what’s on the record.

Were you communicating through the whole process? Yeah. We were pretty much in touch daily for three or four months by text and phone calls. Some of it was about production and restructuring things but a lot of it was just excitement. We both felt that this was some of the best work we have done. That was a strange and surreal thing to have happen, especially at this time.

At one point I was randomly doxxed by right-wing conspiracy theorists who misidentified me as an Antifa organizer in Ohio, long story, but it was in the middle of all this work. I didn’t want to stress her out so I didn’t tell her. But at some point she laughed and said, “So you’re a notorious anarchist?” And I’m like, “Yeah, I was gonna mention that."

How did the collaboration with Bon Iver on “Exile” come about? Taylor wrote that one with the singer-songwriter William Bowery. When Taylor sent it to me as a voice memo, she sang both the male and female parts - as much as she could fit in without losing her breath. We talked about who she was imagining joining her, and she loves Justin [Vernon]’s voice in Bon Iver and Big Red Machine. She was like, “Oh my god, I would die if he would do it. It would be so perfect.” I didn’t want to put pressure on Justin as his friend, so I said, “Well, it depends on if he’s inspired by the song but I know he thinks you’re rad.” Which he does.

So I sent him the song and he was really into it. He tweaked some parts and added parts as well - the bridge where he says, “Step right out.” The end too, and his choral parts. It was fun because Justin and I work on a lot of stuff together, so it was very easy and natural. At some point I felt like a superfan, hearing two of my favorite singers. This was all being done remotely, but it was one of those moments where your head hits the back of the wall and you’re like, “Fuck. Okay.”

There is some fan debate over William Bowery’s identity - I’m not familiar with him. I’m not either. I haven’t actually met him because of social distancing, which is kind of funny. I think he’s a friend.

Did you feel the pressure of working with an artist at Taylor Swift’s level? I tried hard not to think about the scope or scale of making a record that would be heard by millions and millions of people. I did a pretty good job of tuning that out. Music for me is an emotional necessity. It’s therapy. It’s what I live and breathe. All these songs are things I was working on already, and we both felt there was some serendipity in the fact that we ended up in this situation together. I just stayed focused on that, on making this as good as we can.

As the release got closer, I almost thought it wouldn’t happen. Or maybe I just told myself that! The National guys will tell you the same thing - I tend to work until the last possible minute. I didn’t really have a moment to be like, “Holy shit! People are gonna hear this.” We were joking about it last night. I said, “So this actually happened?” And she goes, “Yep!”

What was it like working under total secrecy? There was no outside influence at all. In fact, nobody knew, including her label, until hours before it was launched. For someone who’s been in this glaring spotlight for 15 years, it’s really liberating to have some privacy and work on her own terms. She deserves that. At times, if I wanted friends to play on the record, it was a little difficult because you can’t send a file with her vocals. But everyone was cool. At the end, I reached out to some wizards just to add bits, and that was nice. It was kind of fun: “What? Why can’t you tell me, Aaron?” Then they start guessing. Everyone made a game out of it.

Is there any music that was left on the cutting room floor? There are things I feel could still be songs. It does feel like an ongoing collaboration. Now Taylor is starting to help with other things. We’re bouncing other ideas off each other, whether it’s Big Red Machine or other things. There’s a community aspect. I think that’s how music should be.

#the anarchist comment...please lmao =)#also this could mean she is writing for Bon Iver? or their side projects? now THAT I wouldn't mind at all #Aaron Dessner #interview #about taylor #taylor swift #pitchfork #folklore era #folklore album #release week

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clansayeed · 4 years

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Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 18: Let Me Do You This Kindness

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

The Fate intervenes.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“You were there — you were watching us at Prytania Street.”

“In a way, yes and no.”

“It can’t be both. I saw you there.”

“Yes, I was witness to the events of which you speak. But no, I was not there as you were there; on the physical plane. I bear witness to all things. That is my purpose and my burden.”

“You could have done something.”

“You are mistaken, halfling child.”

“Bullshit. That’s—That’s bullshit. Its an excuse to justify doing nothing!”

“If that is what you choose to believe I cannot stop you, only try to sway your mind.”

“Well you won’t.”

“The world’s belief that I am capable of more than giving testimony is a false one. I cannot change the course of what is to be, no more than you can. I see every outcome, every possibility — every path from the moment it is built reaching out into oblivion.

“Who walks those paths — who has the ability to forge them new or break the chain — that is up to the individual. Certain roads will always be taken, yes. But the forces making those decisions were here long before me and will exist long after I am gone.”

He’s angry. And because he’s angry he’s indignant — he doesn’t want to believe them. Not when they speak in the voice of a forgotten child or a lost lover or someone whose time has come yet they find themselves filled with only bitter regret.

Always with the same golden eyes.

The weight of his breath sends Taylor’s body into tremors of emotion. Things he knows all too well — despair, guilt, self-blame — and things he has no name for; might never have a name for in any human language.

They overwhelm him until they don’t. Until he can look at each and every face of The Fate and speak.

“I don’t remember. Why don’t I remember?”

It’s his voice, his tongue curling around the words formed on his lips. But they aren’t his. They’re just sort of pulled out of him like they were trapped deep in his belly on a string.

Words that come not from the mind but from some place deeper. Those dying embers he thinks may have once been called his soul.

The Fate turns their wrinkled face away.

He knows this emotion. Shame.

“Why don’t I remember?” he asks again.

Doesn’t know where he is, or how he got here, or what it all means. But like hell he’s going to move or be moved without an answer.

“I thought it would be kinder.”

Their new voice wavers. A new face looks back at Taylor — creases in a frown that will settle into lines of age eventually, but not quite yet; thinner lips, yet hands still youthful. They look so much like his mother it hurts.

Thought what would be kinder? What happened? Where is everyone? Where is Nik?

All very important questions. All answers he first wants, then craves, then needs in order to remember how to breathe.

Instead he just whispers a weary “please,” because they both know what it is he’s pleading for.

But The Fate is reluctant — that much is obvious. “I would rather you understand before I did.”

“Understand…?”

“That I am merely the storyteller. Not the book, not the author, just a voice reading from the pages.”

This again. Can they blame him for being skeptical? For thinking someone with a name like The Fate might have a say in the order of the universe, in who lives and who dies?

“If I tell you I believe you, will you give me back my memories?” Will you explain? Will it all make sense?

“Would you be lying to me, Taylor Hunter?”

“You’re The Fate — wouldn’t you know?” Then, met with only silence, he does the only thing that feels right. He just shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t — I don’t, okay? I’ve been asked to believe in a lot of impossible things lately, but this… this is more than that, and that makes it harder.”

Because if The Fate really has no say in the way things have been then that means they have no say in the way things end.

The Coven Elders do.

His friends do.

He does.

But not someone who could make it all better.

And that’s terrifying.

“So I don’t know,” he repeats, “and that’s my final answer.” Not the right or wrong answer, but the final one.

He’s met with a chilling reality when The Fate reaches out their hand and he takes it and feels home. The Fate doesn’t just look like his mother; they are wearing her face.

It’s a useless epiphany though.

Because he remembers.

What’s an extra hour or two?

The difference between life and death.

By the time he notices the familiar figure of The Fate standing just off stage left it’s too late.

The screams, the crackle and POP of a spotlight sending sparks showering down onto the stage, the heat and flames and smoke choking the breath out of him — those all came later.

First came the explosive bang of double doors opening at the back of the theatre. If there was ever an apt time for an actor to fumble their lines it was then.

He still hated Antoni, the prick, but gave credit where credit was due — a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it beat in between stanzas and Oberon was right back in the depths of his monologue.

Second was the gust of wind that turned heads — Taylor’s included — to the draft coming through the gaping doorway. It reeked of revelry and jaegerbombs with just a hint of despair.

Taylor was convinced that last bit was his imagination having a last-ditch effort to try and ruin his happiness. Stupid, stupid boy he was; turning back to the stage like that.

Third came thunk. thunk. thunk.

He could recall, if only vaguely, the rehearsal where Daphne suggested imitating the Globe Theatre in London. She wanted to engage with the audience as Puck and the director loved it.

Her last big entrance was from the back of the theatre, right — he’d forgotten.

Thunk. thunk. thunk.

Daphne came barreling down the sloping path — collided with the stage with wet noise.

Or… her head did.

And it rolled in classic horror-movie gothic to stare lifelessly at the audience. Eyes milky white, veins blackened and bulging under tissue paper skin.

What came next doesn’t matter. If the curtain caught fire before or after Theseus fainted from terror didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was the wretchedly familiar grotesque hovering in the entryway — the shadow it cast stretching long, mangled limbs out towards them.

The bloodwraith let out a screeching howl that shattered glass, incited fire, sent the entire space into a pitch darkness only to glow and flicker with hungry flames.

I’m sorry. His first and only thought.

Nothing else The Fate gave back to him mattered.

“Holy shit — am I dead?!”

Taylor uses the thought to grapple back onto the present and pull himself together. Doesn’t even think about whether or not he should be using that kind of language in front of a very very old supernatural being but okay maybe he’d been a little premature in the ‘nothing else’ department.

If he was dead that definitely mattered. Because if he was dead Nik was going to kill him.

When The Fate readjusts themselves — a refined and more calm way of saying ‘recovers from whiplash’ — they reassure him with a small shake of the head, silvery wisps on a balding head shaking out to perfect and natural curls. “No, you are not dead.”

“Oh thank god,” he whistles low, but its the relief that catches him by surprise. And not just because he doesn’t have to worry about being chewed out by a surly Nighthunter.

He’s actually relieved to be alive. Or at least not dead. One of those things he wouldn’t normally perturb the semantics over but given everything that’s happened it only seems right.

“Am I alive?”

“In a way.”

“That’s a yes or no question. Please let that be a yes or no question.”

It takes Taylor a moment (his brain is catching up as quick as it can, yeesh) but when it becomes clear The Fate, powerful ethereal being witness to everything until the end of time, is amusing themselves with his reactions he tries his best not to give any.

He fails, of course, but he tried his best.

“Yes, halfling child, you are alive.”

“And —” Nik? Elric? Vera? Cal-Kathy-Cadence? Garrus-Krom-Ivy? “— everyone else?”

“Is there one for whom your concern is greatest?” It sounds almost clinical; doesn’t help that they now sound eerily similar to his hormone therapy physician.

Maybe they hoped Taylor would have to think about it. Maybe they wanted to see what makes him tick.

Too bad. “I’m not picking which of my friends I care about the most, if that’s what weird all-knowing trope you’re going for.”

“Not even your father is placed above them?”

“I barely know the guy. That answer it for you?”

The Fate gives a “hmm” and a nod. “Forgive me, I have never had such luxuries.”

“Family, friends?”

“Those as well. I see the bonds of the material made; thousands, millions in the spaces between heartbeats. But I do not feel them. I wish that I could.”

It rings wrong in his bones. Makes his blood curdle in his veins. “If you’re trying to justify preying on my fears to learn emotions, I’d say stop.”

“Is there a threat to be made?”

“No.” He’s not stupid — but he’s not just going to stand there and take it, either. “You didn’t answer my question. Are my friends — all of them — alive too?”

He can tell The Fate hesitates as one last test of wills. Still it doesn’t stop him from clapping a hand over his mouth when they finally nod.

“Thank god…”

They’d thought it would be safe. That they had time—however brief—to try and make the most of things; time together, the city in all her glory.

Taylor doesn’t realize they’ve been walking together, a simple man and Fate, until he stops and looks out of one of the large windows lining the hallway.

Outside is beautiful. It’s a lacking word but the only one that comes to mind. It’s the kind of sunset that people write entire poems and songs about because they can’t think of a simple one-word description either. So it’ll do.

He drinks it in — the vibrant sunset that reaches long tendril fingers of pinks and oranges across the sky and continues on and on and on into an endless horizon. Bright enough to illuminate dust motes hovering practically immobile in the still air around him. Even his heavy and awestruck breathing doesn’t disturb them.

Like he isn’t even there.

And it occurs to him like an afterthought that if he left this place to commune with that sherbet sky he’d never find the end. There’s a peace in that.

He could ask the obvious; where are we, how did we get here, what does it all mean, but instead he focuses on the things he does know rather than what he doesn’t. “You brought us here.”

“Yes.”

And he hadn’t planned it at all; the trap The Fate has so willingly fallen into. But there it is.

“That means you intervened.” He turns away from the world beyond only because he has to. Catches their ever-changing face in the sunset’s light. “I thought you couldn’t intervene.”

When they finally answer the words are chosen with care; careful not to reveal too much, careful not to make promises unable to be kept. “I did not change the course of what is to come; that is beyond me. But it is not beyond you, and so the lines blur. If you could be guided, or given more time, or protected from a death thought previously inevitable, then perhaps you could enact that change with your newfound advantages.”

His mouth twists ruefully. “You’re telling me you found a loophole in destiny?”

“Of a sort.”

“And you choose now to do it? That’s…” For once in his life Taylor thinks before he speaks; to his benefit. “Unless this isn’t the first time you’ve done it.”

The Fate looks at him with the eyes of a child again; a disturbingly profound wisdom looking him over as if in a new light. “There are very few places in the puzzle of time where I may fit.”

“So all that stuff you said about being an observer — what you’re saying is that’s a load of crap.”

“Would I have told you then what little I could do, would you have believed my interference so small?”

They’ve got a point. “No.”

“Then you see why these revelations take time.”

Maybe he does. That doesn’t change the truth, though. Doesn’t change the thoughts racing through his mind; thoughts of the dozens, hundreds of things that have happened that could have been changed in some little way. Changed had they had more time, or if they’d known more.

Or if he hadn’t been protected.

If Nik hadn’t been in the graveyard, Taylor would be dead. He was there, and at the bar, because…

“You hired Nik to protect me. You were the one on the other end of the phone line.”

“Yes.”

“Did it make a difference? No—No it couldn’t have. You said you couldn’t change it. You —”

“All that is meant to unfold still will. If not as swiftly as the witches had hoped.”

“So all you did was prolong the inevitable.”

“All I did?” his question played back to him in a voice rusted with time, incredulity on The Fate’s new leathery features, “You think so narrowly. What have you changed, what have you incited?”

“The Elders are still —”

“What. have. you. done.”

“I —” Is it any wonder he falters under the intensity of that stare; the weight of their words bearing down on him heavier than anything he’s tried to carry before?

Fine. What has he done?

He’s hurt Garrus by bringing Elric to the show.

He’s brought Garrus and Krom closer.

He’s put Vera in danger.

But given her a chance to reconcile with her mother.

He’s the reason Cal was cast out from his pack.

And the reason Donny is still alive.

Stop it, Taylor wants to say, because there’s no way that annoying voice in his head contradicting everything he’s thinking is him. It’s them — they’re in his mind.

But he’s heard dozens of voices from dozens of their lips; none of them have sounded like him.

And only his voice is ringing between his ears.

“If I’d died in the cemetery that night — would any of those things have happened? Be honest.”

“I see all outcomes; the realms in which they did happen and those where they did not.”

“Okay, so —”

“But because of you, Taylor Hunter, they did. And that cannot be undone.”

Taylor reels at the very thought of it. Talk about daring to disturb the universe. But all those things — they’re speaking of the past, of the present.

What about the future?

“Was it enough, though?” Was it enough to make a difference? Enough to save them? Enough to win?

Instead of answering with words The Fate reaches up, out. Doesn’t let up even though Taylor recoils (for good reason) at the weight of permanence that hangs around them in an unseen aura. According to The Fate themselves there are versions of this story where he dies; is already dead.

And knowing that doesn’t scare him nearly as much as being touched by someone who has seen it happen.

“Those who seek to change destiny always fail,” — something so morbid and hopeless shouldn’t sound so reassuring — “because it will always lie out of their reach. They never understand how to bring it closer. Now you do.”

The warmth of the sunset beyond prickles the back of Taylor’s neck. But even basking in the glow as they have been The Fate’s fingers are cold as ice.

Cold with the weight of the sorrows they’ve seen.

Wherever they are stretches out infinitely on either side of them. He hasn’t seen another soul this entire time. Knows somewhere deep inside himself that no matter how many halls he sees, no matter how many doors he opens, they reside here together. Alone.

So why then does he whisper? Who the hell knows.

“If you’ve seen all the terrible ways this could end… why do it? Why try?”

“Because,” they smile and suddenly Taylor sees why every other part of them is cold; to compensate, “I have hope.”

How, how can they have hope when they know what’s coming? “Hope for what?”

“Hope that you will prove me wrong.” You can change what is to come.

“Talk about your unrealistic expectations.” How?

“It has been done before — however rare.” You already know how.

But he doesn’t.

He doesn’t.

He —

He watches Cal with his arm over Vera’s shoulder — holding her close, pressing his mouth into her hair more a gesture of comfort than a kiss. To remind her the warmth of another body is close. That she isn’t alone.

A bright light flashes in front of his eyes, blinds him. Taylor tries to pull back but the EMT squeezes his shoulder and keeps him in place. “Not yet, bud, just try and follow the light okay?”

It doesn’t really make sense to keep staring at the thing that makes it harder to see but he does what he’s told. Follows the pen light left to right and up to down because that’s what they need of him right now.

“Your friends said you took a pretty hard hit.” He can feel the gloved hand on the back of his head feeling around for a lump, a cut, blood — anything.

Definitely more than the nothing he gets that’s for sure.

“Do you remember anything like that?”

No, he doesn’t. He only remembers silvery curls and an insistent understanding that he’s capable of more than he thinks. But those thoughts aren’t his.

It’s with reluctance that the EMT lets him jump from the back of the ambulance with the closest thing to a clear bill of health.

“Rook!”

Thank god he hears Nik only when there isn’t a stethoscope on his chest because surely his heart stops beating.

Taylor turns, doesn’t have the time to brace himself before he’s inhaling leather. Isn’t smothered by it at all — in fact it helps calm him more than expected.

Then Nik’s looking him over — touching the back of his head and holding up his arms; looking for cuts and bruises and any sign that he’s less than one hundred-percent okay. “Did you get checked out? Why the hell would they let you go? If they’d seen the way your head bounced off that concrete wall they’d be thinkin’ differently. Fuckin’ hell, they…” Just like the EMT he feels nothing, though. But this time Taylor isn’t let off the hook so easily.

“What the hell? There ain’t even a bump.”

“I hit my head?” he asks; realizes it’s the wrong thing to say when Nik’s eyes widen.

“You don’t remember? Shit — we’re gettin’ you to the hospital.”

“I don’t need a hospital.”

“I beg to differ!”

“If you’d —” Taylor actually has to smack the flurry of Nik’s concerned hands away, “— just stop for a sec’? Please!”

Even in the chaos of grief and seemingly fruitless attempts to restore order Taylor is loud. Manages to get more than a few heads turned his way — some that look between him and Nik in rising suspicion. He takes the man’s hand and pulls him off to the side before any of it becomes a thing.

They find the one police car without the overhead lights flashing. Away from the crowd swarming, from people who secretly wished they could be paid to learn what happened and grieve for it. Despite being entirely removed from the situation they are moths; the cruisers that bathe them in reds and blues are their flame.

Nik wastes no time. “You’re starting to scare me Taylor,” and he believes it with or without Nik using his name, “if somethin’ happened to you, somethin’ medical, we gotta —”

“Nik,” he insists again, “stop talking.” Cups his hands along a chiseled jaw and brings the man down to kiss him like that’ll explain everything. In a perfect world, maybe.

But even annoying as he’s being right now Taylor can’t hold it against him. He cares — in his own weird way sure — but he does.

They part for air but he allows strong hands to keep him close.

“I only just got back,” he mumbles almost breathlessly, “I don’t need you jumping down my throat.”

“Wait—what?”

“I —”

There’s a tickle on his forehead as Nik’s brow furrows. “No I heard ya. But you didn’ — we were here the whole —” Lucky for them both when, somewhere in the middle of those half-formed explanations and racing thoughts, he remembers that he’s Nik Ryder; Nighthunter.

“Got back from where?”

“Not here.”

“Yes, here.”

“Nik.”

Taylor would like to believe he relents because of trust, but knows the far more likely explanation is exhaustion. But he does and that’s what matters. “Okay Rook, okay. Your turn to call the shots.”

“First we need to get everyone together. I saw Vera and Cal, but…”

“Kathy an’ Cade were still givin’ statements last I checked. Iv’, Krom, and Garrus hightailed it before the cops showed up. Wait—you’re really sayin’ you don’t remember any of this?”

“Stay focused. Where’s Elric?”

“With them. He was out cold, hurt bad from the looks of it.”

Taylor’s heart straight-up stops beating. “Did the wraith —?”

“No Rook, no he, uh, he took a fallin’ rigging for you. Pushed you right outta the way and that’s how you hit your head. I really don’t like —”

“Later. We can’t go back to the Shift.”

“Well there we agree.”

“There’s my place, but —”

“No, nowhere connected to any of us. The Elders could’a hexed the place.”

“Suggestions, maybe?”

“Well damn Rook — not like I’ve got a map of secret warded places I can just pull outta my ass—actually…” Nik changes his tune so fast Taylor gets whiplash. But he knows the thoughtful look in those dark eyes well enough by now that he dares to have just a little bit of hope.

Why try?

Because I have hope.

By the time he’s pulled out of his brief recollection of The Fate, Nik is pulling him by the hand back into the crowd. They spot the beacon of Cadence’s towering head over everyone else and find the others still recuperating on the curb where he stands guard.

Cal spots Taylor and immediately tries to stand — but he’s leaning far too much to the right to be moving so fast. Katherine catches him, eases him back down with admonishing words.

“What did the EMT just say?”

“Yeah yeah, I ain’t a cub Kathy.”

“Then pay attention next time — to what they’re saying, not to their asses.”

Vera reaches for Taylor like a source of comfort. He takes her hand and squeezes; feels the warmth of her through blue medical latex in a way her usual silk doesn’t allow. Wordlessly she holds up a long scrap of familiar fabric as explanation.

Whatever Cadence had planned on saying, it catches on his tongue to be swallowed back down. Something makes his face turn away with a crinkle in his nose.

“No offense Taylor, but you smell like mold on vellum.”

“Huh?” Cal sniffs the air and comes to a similar conclusion. “Reminds me of the shed Kristof keeps his pelts in — like… dust and mothballs.”

“Uh…” what the hell does somebody say to that, “I’m sorry?”

“Just thought you ought to know.”

“Actually — speakin’ of all that research you do, Smith,” everyone looks at Nik like he’s grown a second head, but no one can match Cadence’s bewilderment; since that has less than nothing to do with the attack that’s left them reeling.

“What about it?”

“Any chance you know if the Saint Louis has still got that, uh, preservation sigil still in the stones?”

“Sure. That whole block of Chartres does.”

Katherine’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “Ryder, what are you thinking?” But he ignores her carelessly.

“Includin’ your office?”

“Yes but — Oh.” Epiphany crosses his face and makes his glasses slide down to the tip of his nose.

And though it may be just as annoying to be on the outs of something Nik, Cadence, and even Katherine with her slow nod of understanding seem to know that the rest don’t — there’s a comfort to it. Like they’re all back in the Shift shotgunning ideas on a chalkboard and not scrambling for a place to hide.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” the way Katherine says it though — it’s like a self-directed insult, “why didn’t I think of that?”

“Think we’ll all fit?” asks Nik.

Cadence gives everyone a calculating look, seemingly taking measurements. “I don’t see why not, so long as you don’t mind a bit of clutter.”

Kathy doesn’t even bother covering her snort, the derisive “Ha!” that earns her something like the vampire version of a pout. She remains unfazed. “That’s putting it a little more than lightly…”

“It’s not that bad. You’re making me out to be a hoarder.”

“Let’s just hope no one’s claustrophobic.”

“Kathy!”

Admittedly Taylor doesn’t know a lot about vampires besides the basics; immortal, super fast, super strong, blood-is-life. But there’s more, isn’t there? There has to be.

For example — werewolves are pack animals. He can guess that vampires are less so. So what fills the void?

Because from what he’s seeing before him… they’re nesting creatures.

This is a nest, right? Please someone say this is a nest, that this is normal behavior. That somewhere else in the city Isadora de la Rosa is just chilling in a giant pile of stuff like some sultry dragoness and Cadence is just following some sort of undead instinct.

Otherwise this guy needs help. Like — Hoarders-level help.

Ryder’s reaction does nothing to ease his discomfort; giving an impressed nod as his eyes sweep the room; the piles… and piles… and piles…

“You’ve cleaned up,” he moves an old filing box with little ceremony to rustle himself up a place to sit; apparently its every butt for itself here, “and is that two walls I can see?”

There are two seats not actively serving as storage and Katherine beelines for it. Cal gets there first with some semblance of victory — though it’s short-lived.

“You’re in my spot.”

“Grow up. First come first serve.”

She repeats herself in an actual growl. “You’re in my spot, Lowell.”

Arms crossed over his chest, he snorts a derisive “I don’t see your name on it,” only to fumble for purchase when she grabs the chair-back with both hands and spins it around.

Her name actually is written on the back. And in very large, blocky permanent marker.

She doesn’t need to tell him a third time. Settles in like it didn’t even happen. Out of everyone gathered, Cadence included, she’s the only one who looks like she really belongs.

“Three guesses why that is.” She says to Nik. It doesn’t take the man long to connect the dots.

“I’d’ve given some money to catch a glimpse of spit-shined Raines in this disaster.”

“Enough!” The vampire groans; finishes clearing up the last of what appears to be an outdoor patio table for the rest of them to prop against. “Unless by some miracle my—admittedly disorganized—attempt at scouring centuries’ worth of documentation in my so-far fruitless pursuit of an identity is the key to vanquishing the threat at hand.

“If so then by all means, continue on!”

It doesn’t help that the awkward silence is broken only when a towering stack of loose papers slides passed the tipping point and collapses somewhere unseen.

“Fuck.”

He accepts his defeat and takes up the chair beside Kathy with a surprising amount of dignity.

But his tirade served more than just a single purpose. It reminds Taylor of why they had to find somewhere to regroup, why it had been necessary in the first place.

You already know how, The Fate had said. And with a surety that had blurred the boundaries of whatever reality they had been in while talking outside of time and space.

Cadence’s mess isn’t the answer.

But someone not-Taylor in the room just might be.

“Vera…”

You already know. And the first thing he sees when he comes back to himself is Vera crying on the curb. That’s not a coincidence. In fact he feels a sharp, almost icy clarity when his train of thought switches tracks.

When he remembers the last time she cried and knows — just knows — that everything going forward isn’t random chance. It’s all meant to be.

Wordlessly they clasp hands. If before they were only doing this together and for Kristin, the same can’t be said now.

Taylor begins with a soft “I’m sorry,” because what he’s going to ask her is hard but there’s no way around it; he tries to be kind because she deserves that much at the very least, “but I’m gonna need you to tell me… tell us, I guess… what exactly you meant when you said you, uh, recognized the bloodwraith.”

Where’s a falling stack of papers when you need one?

Directly following another attack isn’t the best time to ask something that heavy. Everyone’s thinking it, but either lacks the guts or has enough brains not to speak it aloud.

The longer they wait the less time they have. If their minutes in the hourglass aren’t borrowed already.

Taylor can’t imagine the amount of courage it takes for her to share. She’d already been one sneeze away from “no no never mind, I don’t wanna bother you with it, let it go please; for me” back in the apartment. He recalls a brief flash of relief when they were interrupted. Though that didn’t last long given the news.

He’s there, you know, if she wants a hand to hold. Hesitates that hand over her shoulder as he watches the woman close in on herself… and lets it fall.

By the time she’s ready Cadence has ducked out and returns with a tray of water glasses and steaming mugs of fragrant teas. Three sleeves of soda crackers once abandoned are now their equivalent of a replenishing snack after a long journey.

All of it a little too mundane for the conversation at hand.

Vera gives herself a few shaky breaths — and begins.

“You ever been to one’a those big family reunions; the kind where you don’t know more than half’a the people showin’ up but it’s a birthday or a funeral or the like and you don’t really have a say in the matter?”

Literal crickets.

Even when she looks at Cal for backup he shakes his head and offers a shrug as an apology. “The Pack may be big but we’re tight. It’s impossible not to know someone, even if it ain’t a face but a scent.”

“But we can imagine.” Katherine makes a ‘continue’ gesture without bothering to mask the haste. “Keep going.”

Vera does.

“You’re wrong there, Kathy. No’ne who ain’t born a Reimonenq can really get what happens when you get more than a dozen’a us in the same room. All with the same blood in our veins but any opportunity to marry out the family, to change the name with somethin’ more bindin’ than just a court order — they take it.

“Last one I went to was ma Mémé’s funeral. Nawlins funerals, you know how they are —” only this time Taylor’s the sole sore thumb but no one stops to explain, “— and since she ran the Reimonenq Clan everyone who once carried the name or could have done was bound by duty to attend.”

Wistful memory clouds her eyes for a long moment. Whatever memory it is can’t be a happy one, not by the tick in her brow. “Met my uncle for the first time there. I didn’ even know Momma had any siblings — and here come up walkin’ two. They could’a been any random strangers on the street but they were huggin’ me and tellin’ me about seein’ me as a baby and…”

Katherine makes a not-so-subtle noise and shifts in her chair until it squeaks loud enough for Cal to flinch. It’s her chair, bears her name. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Before she can say anything Cadence tactfully intervenes.

“So sorry about that; the chair drowned Kathy out. I could be wrong — but I think she was about to ask the relevance of this story and the wraith.”

Vera nods with a startling lack of apology. “If I could skirt around it I would. But every way I’ve thought about… about how I felt when I looked it in the eyes? This is the only way I can make it make sense.”

“It’s okay Vee,” says Taylor, “say what you have to.” And if he doesn’t mind her taking her time because it gets him a better chance of reading her inside, of understanding not just the words on her lips but the ones on her soul, he definitely isn’t going to mention it.

“I could see that they were my blood. Hell they were the spittin’ image of Ton—of Momma before she took over ma Mémé’s operations. The shady… smoky kind. But I didn’t know ‘em. I was five weeks away from my move to New York—I didn’t want to know ‘em.”

“Did they have the…?” She looks at Ryder sharply, watches him mime his hands without rhyme or reason. Her nostrils flare in anger.

“No. Turns out the Reimonenq Curse is a picky lit’le thing; picks the first born — or the only born, in my case. I got why she didn’t keep in contact when I found that out.

“I didn’ know why it bugged me s’a much until later. ‘Cause I just couldn’t give rhyme or reason to how I could see so much’a myself in stranger’s eyes.”

A hush falls over the group. Within it — an understanding. No longer with the need to ask Vera to tie her story together because she’s actually a lot more intuitive than even Taylor previously gave her credit for.

And now those tears of hers — always justified, always — they’re more than that. They’re understood.

Vera had looked into the eyes of the bloodwraith. What she had seen was far worse than simple familiarity.

She’d seen a part of herself in the rotting void of its skull. Recognized something hereditary in scraps of rotting flesh stuck in the gaps between its mouthful of fanged teeth.

And she’s still fucking standing, she’s still sane?

Not that there was any competition but Vera Reimonenq was definitely just crowned the strongest of them all in a landslide victory.

She gives them each individual looks. As if daring any of them to try and play Devil’s advocate. But why would they? You don’t fake something that soul-crushingly awful.

“There’s more.”

Cal kicks back on the floor with a groan. “Any chance there isn’t?” He’s the only one who could get away with it though.

“I wish that were the case. I’d been tryin’ to find the right time to bring it up — turns out it just needed to be brought up for me.”

I’m sorry, says way Taylor pulls her in for a one-armed hug.

It ain’t your fault, replies the last weary quirk of her lips.

“I ain’t the only one.”

“Tonya,” supplies Cadence, and Vera’s wobbling bottom lip breaks all their hearts in unison.

“Yeah—Yeah Momma she… she felt it too. I could see it in her eyes. She won’t spare it a thought but I don’ believe in coincidences anymore. She an’ I both feelin’ the way we did, then that thing’s touch takin’ away her Curse —”

“Mary Mother of Christ!”

The vampire stands so fast his chair goes flying into a stack of boxes — lucky for them all whatever contents are heavy enough to stay standing.

At first Katherine looks worried beside him, though it dulls quickly into exasperation. “Folks and faes I give you the Drama King…”

“Not the bloody time.” The look in those ruby eyes is almost manic — just like they had been when Cade had tried infodumping on them at the Shift. Only this might be slightly more relevant — hopefully.

“Care to share?” Cal drawls.

Cadence pays him no mind; focuses only on Vera and gets her attention in turn. There’s almost anticipation in the way he whispers, “You figured it out, didn’t you?”

“Well I wasn’t sure — not until now. You knew him?”

“I had the misfortune.”

“And you were… around when the Coven retaliated.”

“Like I said,” he wipes the lenses of his glasses with such convenient timing he could only be avoiding meeting her eyes, “I had the misfortune.”

It isn’t long after that they realize no one else is even close to catching up to them. A silent back and forth emerges Cadence as the lucky soul burdened with explanation.

“We’ve been so focused on the what of the bloodwraith,” there’s no possible way he knows what stack to dig through, it has to be a diversion to remove himself from the heart of the matter; doesn’t stop him from nudging Nik aside and rifling through an open filing cabinet, “what it is, what it seeks, what it can do.”

Nik grumbles at Taylor’s side. “And that ain’t important?”

“No no — it is. But it… it gave us tunnel vision. Made us docile; we stopped asking questions. Aha —”

Cadence pries free a packet; the contents of which Taylor can’t see even if he squints.

But the text must not matter because he focuses instead on a carefully cut newspaper article attached to the front. The same old paper as his news spread on the war — ink the same faded black.

He can barely look at it, though. Offers it to Kathy’s awaiting hand. “The fire was too great not to make the paper. Carlo personally ensured the cause of the blaze was covered up but no one could keep the deaths quiet. The city only knew three young women perished — not that they were the Garden Coven’s newest blooded witches. And because that fact needed to be concealed at all costs… there were no consequences for him to face.”

“For who to face?” Taylor’s afraid to ask but someone’s gotta do it.

Vera’s voice cracks when she answers.

“My ancestor — Derek Reimonenq. The Bloody Hand.”

“And the tortured soul the Coven used to bind the bloodwraith to this world.”

#nightbound #vera reimonenq #choices nb #playchoices fic #nik ryder x mc #cal lowell #katherine nightbound #oc: cadence smith #nik ryder #nightbound mc #mc: taylor hunter #oblv: bound by circumstance #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

Text

Lux & Dash

Lux: Hey 😊 Lux: wanna hang out today? Dash: Bummer! There's no way Dash: I promised Sapphire we'd hang Lux: Can't I come with? What are you doing? Dash: she wouldn't be down Dash: you get the picture, yeah? Lux: I don't think I know Sapphire...? Dash: she has a groovy Cleopatra vibe Lux: 🐍🐍🐍 love that Lux: you gonna be Marc or Julius? Dash: Who did she dig more? Lux: You're more of the Antony type Lux: they had their own drinking club called inimitable livers Lux: and they played pranks on people in disguise Dash: Right on! Lux: I hope your love affair doesn't end in such dire circumstances Dash: it'll be outta sight, don't sweat it Dash: she's made loads of her own promises back Lux: She's not the sister of anyone is she? Dash: Onyx but he's cool Lux: Hmm, actually, my point is moot regardless, if she's Cleopatra, it's Octavia's brother you need to worry about Lux: Cleo could 💀 her own Lux: never mind then, you should be fine 😁 Dash: you know how to lay a real trip, huh? Dash: I almost forgot Lux: forgot about Marcus Antonius?! Lux: don't wanna be doomed to repeat it, Dashiel, think on Dash: no doom in my 🔮 babe Lux: 🌈✨ good times Dash: that's more the shit to 🗨 into being Lux: I don't think you can blame the eventual fall of Rome on me being in your inbox when you'd rather I weren't 😄 Dash: No blame, I just gotta do my own thing Lux: do you think any of us can ever be unique Dash: Beats me, that's heavy 💭 Lux: I thought that's what you were getting at Lux: Bummer Lux: I'll ask around Dash: I'm not trying to get into anything with you Dash: later, maybe Lux: You aren't going to have an answer for me later Lux: Don't sweat it, Dash Dash: if you wanna go ahead & cut me some slack I'll have magic for you Dash: just not now Lux: It doesn't matter Lux: I want conversation and someone to hang with, you want neither, that's chill Dash: what you want isn't a bad scene but it's not mine Dash: I can turn you onto someone whose it is, you'll have a blast Lux: that's okay ✌ Lux: I'll make my own friends, continue to Dash: Cool Lux: godspeed 🚀 I will let you know my findings 🗳📋 Dash: you know where to find me to lay whatever you want on me Dash: 🍎🍏🌳 Lux: what do you like most about 🍎🍏🌳 there Dash: 👀 Lux: good answer Lux: the ☀ looks best through 🍃🌳🍂 Dash: & the sky looks 🍒 from that high Lux: 🍒🥧 sounds good Dash: I'm hip to that Lux: does that mean you're going to make one? Lux: I'll get the 🍨 a la mode or nothing baby Dash: you're the girl, why aren't you making it? Lux: ha, I wasn't raised one though, so that kind of nonsense does not work on me 😅 Lux: I like brown sugar and cinnamon on the top please Dash: I'll find a 🐤 who's not wise to it & pass that on Dash: but they won't be fitting an apron how you would ✨ Lux: I don't want deception pie Lux: it will taste all the bitter for it 😖😖😖 yuck yuck yuck Dash: I'll pick the 🍏🍎🍐🍊🍋🍌🍉🍇🍓🍈🍒🍑 for it Dash: keep it sweet & honest Lux: make me a basket Lux: that way you get to be sweet and I don't have to participate in any misogyny for baked goods Dash: What's with the goddess demands when you know I've got demands on my time? Lux: you're so busy, right? Dash: 🚀🪐💫 Dash: I can't be weaving you a basket like it's no biggie Lux: well that is not what I meant 😏 Lux: but if you can't handle it then I'm sure I'll manage just fine Dash: weave a 🐤 a basket and she's 💖 for a day, teach her to basket weave... Lux: how very like a man to claim mastery over a skill women for centuries just did because they had to Lux: you had your chance to be 👏 over your pastry making expertise but you declined Dash: how righteous of you to keep the faith on that belief but yo, can you do it? I can Dash: declining everything I can teach you is a bad trip to be on Dash: you said you weren't down to feast on bitter fruit, that's gotta include sour 🍇 baby Lux: It's a very wholesome past life you've painted for me if I somehow acquired that skill Lux: certainly a prettier picture than the truth alas Lux: I haven't declined any invitation Lux: that's you Dash: I haven't either Dash: There's a time & a place for us to reconnect Dash: after Sapphire's Dash: & Lotus' Lux: your schedule isn't going to dictate mine Lux: we'll see when that time is Lux: 🌍🌌💫 willing Dash: come & 👀 me then Dash: it'll be unreal again Lux: you want me to watch you from the nearest 🍎🍏🌳? Dash: or 🌌 til the 7th day of the 7th month if you still vibe with that story Lux: That's an interesting way to inquire about my faith Lux: you'd make an excellent youth pastor Lux: 🤭 Dash: you've heard me play 🎸 Lux: and your cool lingo Lux: yep, it is indeed your calling Lux: we'll start your bible study as soon as the 🌍 is ready Dash: sounds like a drag Dash: how are we gonna make it fun? Lux: 🍪🍪🥛 and fellow youths, duh Dash: if you're gonna teach me it needs to be visual Dash: that's my way Lux: really? Lux: well, I'm going to need all my creativity and crafting skills to recreate Noah's Ark Dash: Moses'll be easy, I'll weave a basket for real Dash: he's the one, yeah? 👶 Lux: that's him Lux: have a whole cast of 👶 to choose from Dash: & animals Lux: I'll just try to avoid being like Sarah and 👊 all the mothers in envy Lux: not a good look Dash: I can get you a baby 🐈 if it'll keep the peace Lux: 😄 it'd be a whole other story if that's what Abraham had done Dash: he coulda taken 5 & let me 🛹⚡️ to my nan's place Lux: a man who marries his sister and needs to populate the 🌍 ain't got no time to chill, Dashiel Dash: the more you tell me, the more he fits into my family 🌳 Lux: 🤨 🧐 Lux: you're holy too? Dash: last time we got together you seemed to 💭👀🗨 so Lux: false prophets hold a certain amount of appeal, of course Dash: what was false? Lux: well, it's not for me to say you weren't speaking the word of God, I suppose Lux: but it's also a big no-no to worship false idols, it's in the big 10, so Lux: very tricky, actually Dash: Do you want me to try & make amends or what's left of the other 9? Lux: How many of do you think you've broken today? Dash: tell me what they are Lux Thou shalt have no other gods before me Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy Honour thy father and thy mother Thou shalt not murder Thou shalt not commit adultery Thou shalt not steal Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour Thou shalt not covet Lux: score out of 10 please Dash: what's a graven image? Lux: that's the idol part Dash: right on, I don't have time to like carve a statue of you & worship it but the intent is there Dash: no adultery or murder either, but the rest Lux: well Lux: consider me appalled not shocked 😳 Dash: what's your score? Lux: 3, I think Dash: you covet the fruit for a pie & Lux: Yes 😘 Lux: and I am not honouring my father or mother and I've put myself before god so Lux: I think those are the only ones, though arguably referring to myself like that is taking it in vain but I wasn't the first one to say it Dash: that's the shit you should ask around about 🗳📋 /10 Lux: maybe I'll do weekly questionnaires Lux: no one else is as mad as you were to be compared to Mark Antony but A LOT of people think we're all ❄️ Dash: beauty enough for ❄ & false idols Lux: Sculpture isn't my forte but I'll do my best Lux: you'll have to stand still long enough for me to 👀 Dash: I don't think I can Dash: we're poetry in motion, I know you felt it Lux: I'm not in the business of denying what I feel Dash: you haven't grown a totally different head since I last 👀 you Lux: now that WOULD be impressive Lux: stuck with this one only Dash: stuck makes it sound like that's a bummer Dash: looking how you do could NEVER be a drag Lux: you've not lost your charm either Dash: every compliment I've given you before, I would give you today Lux: damn timing Dash: Meet me under the 🌙? Lux: I shan't turn into a 🎃 Dash: I won't turn into a 🐀 Lux: then I don't see why not Dash: Then I'll be waiting for you Lux: Patiently? Dash: you already know that's not one of my virtues Lux: 😇 takes a lot of hard work Dash: you're the 👼 Lux: I do like hearing it Dash: I'll write you another song Lux: you keep writing songs for everyone, no wonder you've got no time Dash: school's that much of a hassle, it's that or crash 💤 Lux: what don't you like about it? Dash: I don't like anything about it Dash: nothing radical ever happens Dash: & there's way more commandments than 10 Dash: I could be spending my time here on the farm, helping things run smooth Lux: Hmm Lux: Interesting Dash: I read, I know shit Dash: I can write and do maths Dash: understand people Lux: and you feel like that's all school has to offer you? Dash: I don't see why I have to do x or y number of years more in an institution Dash: there's nothing I can get there that I can't get in the 🌍 Lux: I'll add it to my survey ideas Dash: 🤯💭 Lux: 🐝🧠 or 🎨🧠 Lux: only time will tell Dash: I'm hip to it being about getting out of just being around the same 🐈 & 🐤 Dash: meeting people with different vibes who you probably won't dig Dash: but I've got my bro for that Lux: the footballer Lux: I remember Dash: my dad & his piece too, they're drags in the same way Lux: what do you bond with your dad over? Dash: I don't Lux: is it like school and you're not bothered though Lux: or is it a shame Dash: Do I 🌠 he 👀 me? Used to Dash: not a rush I need to chase now Lux: I get it Dash: He's got the ⚽🏆 son he wants & I've got a family here Lux: it's not a good enough replacement though, is it Lux: no matter how nice people are here, or wherever I end up next and after that Lux: I'm never going to hear the people I grew up with, who loved and raised me, call me by the right name Lux: or daughter, or sister Dash: You're not gonna stay? Lux: this place was made for moving out, right? Lux: it's transient Dash: they can love you, raise you, you don't have to split Lux: I've been raised but Lux: I get what you're saying Lux: when I put roots down again Lux: it needs to be for keeps Dash: this can be for keeps Dash: it is for me Lux: we had some travellers at my daddy's church for a while Lux: 'til they got moved on Lux: places like this Lux: it's never forever Dash: What's forever? Not my parents marriage or my dad's football career Dash: if we have to go we go together, all of us Dash: new buildings maybe but the same family Lux: I'm glad that you have that Dash: you can Dash: you're welcome & wanted Dash: nobody here is related to me by blood but we're still connected Lux: I know, everyone has been very welcoming Lux: on the whole Dash: you can get comfortable, this place has been here years Lux: alright Lux: anyway, didn't Cleopatra show yet? Dash: She'll be waiting for a mirror Lux: huh? Dash: she's not cool with coming to me before checking what she looks like Dash: as if I've never 👀 her Lux: doesn't it feel Lux: Abraham and Sarah vibes Dash: what do you mean? Lux: incestuous Lux: because you say they're your family Lux: but you sleep with them Dash: she won't stay Dash: a tourist Lux: and you only sleep with the ones that won't stay Dash: they sleep with me, it's part of the tour Dash: you remember Lux: Cool speech there then Dash: I don't always get it right, like Dash: I thought that was your vibe, it's not Lux: no, you were exactly right Dash: Lux, come on Lux: it's family to you Lux: you don't care about the endless stream of fucked up girls who can cross here off their nowhere left to go list Lux: what they might be searching for Lux: never mind you actually have a home, somewhere you could be Lux: I was beyond wrong about you Dash: Don't fucking frame it like that Lux: 'cos you did a brilliant job with your narrative Lux: part of the tour, give me a fucking break Lux: you know, you aren't superior because you choose to be here, it's the opposite Lux: what kind of person lords that over people who have no choice, nowhere else they can be Lux: what the fuck Dash: that's not what I'm doing, chill out Lux: just don't Lux: you have no justification, you have no reason Lux: and clearly whatever you are doing here is going unchecked so whatever Lux: I'll be gone soon, but just know, I fucking see you Dash: I told you before we started, you set the pace, everything we did we both wanted to do Dash: nothing I do needs to be checked Lux: so you're that guy Lux: it isn't only bad if it's some serial killer down an alley and the girl is screaming and crying no Dash: You're making this way heavier than it is Lux: You don't get to tell me what I'm making it Dash: I don't get why you're twisting everything Lux: I haven't twisted anything Dash: we had fun, you said you liked me Lux: this isn't a straight issue of consent Lux: it's the fact that I know you knew I was vulnerable, I told you things, why I was here Lux: and you think it's acceptable to fuck people who are in that position, and you can't deny it because you literally did it to me, because, you know, they won't be here long Lux: and to have the nerve to advertise this place, these people, yourself, as a fucking safe space Lux: family Lux: that is insanely fucked up, I don't know how no one has ever told you that Dash: you can back off this witch hunt, yeah? Dash: you're not the same as Sapphire or Amber or Lotus or whoever Dash: they don't tell me things, it's not the fucking same Lux: Well I'm definitely sorry I did Dash: that's all been shallow, this got deep, you know Lux: I don't think I know anything about you Lux: not really Dash: You're just flipping out, I flipped you out Dash: but I didn't mean to & you don't mean that Lux: I just need to not be here right now Dash: Lux Lux: It's fine Lux: I mean, it's not Lux: but I'm leaving the main house to go for a walk, so just don't let me see you, okay Dash: You're not gonna tell anyone, are you? Lux: excuse me? Dash: all that shit you said about how it's not a safe space Lux: who the hell do I have to tell? Lux: and that's the worst part Dash: There's loads of people you could, but it's not true Lux: for a second there, you almost sounded like you gave a shit Lux: places like this will always exist, I'm not under any illusion I can stamp them all out Dash: I do! Dash: maybe I fucked up but that's not the farm's fault Lux: I'm not going to the cops, I have nothing to tell Dash: my head didn't go there, there's loads of good people here, doing beautiful things Dash: if I'm not one of them, that'll be my karma Dash: you don't have to leave Lux: I'm not Lux: that's your karma Lux: someone needs to stick around so there's some sense of consequence for your actions Dash: you don't have to go full avenging 👼 on me Dash: I won't be going heavy on you Lux: It's not a joke, Dash Dash: I'm not 🤡ing Dash: nothing uncool needs to happen between us, I'll give you space or whatever Lux: You're afraid Lux: aren't you Lux: that if I tell what you're like, girls like Cleopatra won't go near you anymore Lux: Jesus Christ Dash: I don't need to be afraid of that, I told you, we're all having fun Dash: there's no big soap opera vibe Lux: Fuck off now Dash: Ask Amber, she was mad at me before you but not like that, you've got this wrong Lux: I haven't got anything wrong Lux: this is what you did, to me, that's the end of Lux: you can tell yourself what you like about the rest, that's no concern of mine Dash: Nah, we talked about it, how I've done shit before that's 💔 & you said you didn't care Dash: that I couldn't hurt you Dash: & that you could tell I wasn't a bad person Dash: Why are you just taking it all back like none of that fucking happened? Lux: Why did you prove me wrong in such spectacular fashion? Lux: there's a reason you prefer keeping things shallow, and this is it Lux: if the answer isn't a yes or it's cool, you don't want to know, you don't want to be checked Dash: The reason I keep things shallow is they're on a fly by, they don't want to stay & I don't wanna be connected to someone else that'll split on me Lux: you aren't the gatekeeper of this place Lux: and nothing's forever, by your own admission Dash: I am of myself & I do my own fucking checks, yeah? Maybe you don't have a heart left to break by your own admission but I'm protecting the one you don't believe I've got, like Lux: There's no world in which I'm feeling sorry for you right now, okay Lux: you do not vet every girl you fuck for her tragic backstory, cut the crap Dash: Gimme a break, I said talking isn't usually part of it, going both ways, wouldn't be very chill or shallow if it was Lux: Yeah, like I said, you don't care Lux: and that's your lookout Lux: but to give it that faux hippie bullshit about family and welcoming, when you mean only for yourself, fucking sucks Lux: don't bother pretending, just be honest Dash: it happened different with you, that's the honest truth Dash: search me why Lux: right Lux: I wasn't born yesterday Dash: I do care Lux: you should be a better friend Lux: to these people, the ones you care about Dash: yeah Lux: that's all I have to say Dash: I'll cool it too then Lux: I don't think you're evil Lux: but I don't think you're a good person now Dash: I can't change your mind? Lux: Of course you can Dash: by doing what? Lux: by being a good person or a bad Dash: Beats me how that's getting judged when everyone else already thinks I'm being a good person except you & my bro Lux: don't confuse people not caring either way for approval of your actions Dash: you want me to care more for people who don't, nothing confusing about that Lux: I said being good wasn't easy Dash: & responsibility isn't my bag, he takes all that on Lux: there we go then Lux: I'm not expecting anything Dash: like I said, I'm not giving you anything but space Lux: Whatever Lux: Goodbye Dash: I'm sorry we read each other wrong Dash: it hasn't happened before Lux: It's happened plenty before Lux: they leave Lux: your behaviour and attitude is bullshit and I won't be apologising to you Dash: chill, you've made your point Lux: it's not about making it, it's about you understanding Lux: but why the fuck should I care, actually Lux: you're right, way too confusing, way too hard, no point Dash: get out of here then Dash: I don't understand & you don't care Lux: I'm not leaving, remember Lux: and that's the fucking point, you'll have to get used to feeling uncomfortable with it Dash: you can split conversationally, was more the vibe Lux: no, Dash Lux: you don't control the conversation, the narrative, any of it, that's the 'vibe' Lux: if you're feeling some type of way, you should go, take some responsibility for yourself Dash: You're responsible for hassling me now Lux: Then leave Lux: you control you, I control me Lux: I'm not doing what you don't want to do for some notion of being the fucking 'chill' cool one here Dash: I don't understand this, that's why I don't want to Lux: I don't think you want to Lux: it's fun and it's easy to do fucked up things Lux: and if everyone else is doing them, or not calling you out for it, why not Dash: I didn't do a fucked up thing to you Lux: I've said you did Dash: but that's not the way it was Dash: I opened up to you to, I still am Lux: You tell me about the tour and then you tell me I'm different though Lux: How do you expect me to take you at your word when what you've described there is exactly what went down Dash: I showed you around & I've showed some of them around, that doesn't mean everything else that happened was the same Lux: you said it like you thought I'd think it was funny Dash: I don't know why I did that Lux: Be honest Lux: was it just to see how cool I was and how I could hang Lux: or was it because you forgot, and thought I was one of the boys Dash: that couldn't be further from how I see you Lux: okay Lux: that's something then Dash: I meant what I said when I told you you're like a song I can't get out of my head, how I wanted to live in all those moments cos of what they felt like Dash: it's only got worse since then Dash: I didn't wanna hurt you, I don't Lux: you didn't hurt me by what you did Lux: at least, not at the time Lux: it's what you said Lux: to have to put bad intentions to those moments, you must get how shitty that is, you at least feel that too Dash: I was trying to show you this is different Lux: my head hurts Dash: Yeah 🌪 Lux: make sure you have some water Dash: that's your magic 🔮✨💖 Lux: I don't think I have any right now Dash: You haven't lost it Lux: I just need to replenish Dash: Me too Lux: I'll wish you good luck on that then Dash: Later? Lux: Yeah Dash: 🚀🪐💫

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thedeviljudges · 5 years

Note

As resident PR expert do you have any thoughts on Dacre’s Instagram feed? Is it off-putting or are we digging it? Also, his lack of thirst traps since the great shaming of 2018?

i’ve been sitting on this for a few days bc i’ve not had the energy to sit down and really explain my thoughts. here’s hoping this comes across right, lmao.

i’m gonna go by my own opinion. the thing about PR is that while there is a method and everyone plays by the same rules, sometimes there are areas where we don’t. it comes down to preference, style, etc. every professional is different. so hard stress that this is what i see and my opinion if i was observing as if he were wanting an audit.

i think it’s trash. well, okay. i’ve seen worse. but.......ok how do i explain this.... dacre is wanting a brand really bad - this is his goal. a goal is something we use to build objectives and strategies around. branding is not a bad thing. what he lacks is the guidance (which is natural due to being without the resources in this industry and not really knowing how to navigate it). whether he sits down and plans it or has help from a team, he needs a solid picture of what his branding is. right now, it’s all over the place in terms of what he’s wanting. it’s confusing because in one post or interview he says one thing, then does another. the message is confusing. there’s a lack of vision.

while his posts are things he “likes”..... there’s not really a plan in place for posting it. it’s kinda random and whatever he feels like. granted, a lot of people run their SM like this, and i’m not saying all of his posts need to be sponsored content. however, it’s much easier to run an account when you have a solid social media calendar/plan. it not only brings consistency, but you’ll know what you’re posting ahead of time.

so when you have a plan and you have branding, it becomes much easier to figure out what you want your feed to look like. and again, this takes planning. it does take time. not everyone is wanting to invest in that. but still. having a brand really helps with understanding the kind of posts you should be making. it helps with managing an account like instagram, which can be a monster of a thing. dacre has said he doesn’t get social media, and that’s fine. he doesn’t have to use it consistently, but i think there are smarter things he could be doing with it if he wanted. especially if he’s trying to promote his podcast, and presumably, this movie he’s doing.

my number one pet peeve is the three post thing. i don’t get it. don’t understand it. all it does is spam people’s feeds, and it looks awful. to me, it’s clear he needs some kind of branding, otherwise i don’t think he’d be doing that. i genuinely hate that method of posting, and variation is important. his insta doesn’t need to be pretty or picture perfect but you can tell when a feed knows what its doing versus when they don’t.

here’s a few accounts that i’ve come across (some i follow, some i don’t) where you’ll see what i’m talking about in terms of things being “tight.” there’s a variation of content, but you’ll kinda see an underlying theme or brand among them. and if not that, you’ll see consistency.

midland - country band

liam payne

the faim - a band

antoni porowski

the 1975

lily collins

lizzo (i’d say she’s the perfect example of someone running their own account. her’s is not as refined. however, she posts personal videos as well as editorial content. if dacre doesn’t wanna try hard to be on social, this is the kind of account i’d suggest he take after - not content-wise, lol. but that type of feed).

all of this also goes for his DKMH account, too. he literally has “building a brand” in the caption but like......... no one fucking knows what his brand is???? literally no one fucking knows. it’s this weird mix of poetry and so-called aesthetic that isn’t actually aesthetic bc it’s not tied to anything. i’m not saying there has to be meaning in what he’s doing, but i think he’s all over the place - much like ADHD - in that he needs a focus, a box with a whole bunch of names of things and use that as a reference or cheat sheet to figure out what should be posted to these accounts. think of this box with words in it: furniture, minimalism, travel, jewelry, etc etc. and go from there. i’ve already narrowed down what he likes, what he’s featured before, what he’s talked about, and can fit that into a box of things that go with what he’s wanting. this box can cast a wide net. i’m not saying he’s gotta limit himself. but when you put things into focus, it can help weed out unnecessary shit and can help you focus on looking at a picture and determining if that should be included in what you’re doing.

i’m not saying this is exactly the right way to do it either. but i think for someone just starting out (disregard his follower account. that’s got nothing to do with it other than the fact that even without branding, of course he can post whatever and it’s gonna be seen), for someone who is wanting a brand, it needs to be narrowed before it’s widened.

or, he could be extremely simple and just post shit he likes three times a week and be just fine. even that would be better than what the fuck he’s doing now.

and i also never cared for the thirst traps, but i never shamed him for it, so it sucks that he gave into people in that regard, but i’m also not a big fan of constantly posting vanity photos like he was either, lol. (if he was doing something similar to antoni from queer eye, i think that’d be so much better. more deliberate and with purpose).

social media doesn’t have to be difficult. it doesn’t have to be hard whatsoever. i think the biggest thing for someone like dacre (just going off of his personality), he’d benefit from having a plan. again, doesn’t have to be cookie-cutter perfect, but a plan can make all the difference. (starting off with a plan means it’s much easier to make it a habit and get in the habit of understanding your feed and what you’d like to post. also makes you comfortable with post whatever you want and it still fitting within your brand).

i hope this makes sense???? it’s really not as complicated as i’ve made it sound. but this is what i’d sit down and talk with him about.

#x #anonymous #answered

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nightwitchwriter · 4 years

Text

New Chapter

This was suppose to be done on Mabon (look up the date if you don’t know), but stuff happens whether you want it or not. Enjoy.

Chapter 3: Revelation

Will’s P.O.V.

I flew back to my house, with the ingredients my mom asked for, on her list for our Mabon dinner.

“So, you’ll be able to help me on my project?” I asked the person on my phone

“Sure. It shouldn’t be that hard. I was there the past two centuries. You could do holidays, like Christmas. It’s been relatively the same.”

“Yeah, if you don’t take in commercialization being taken to the extreme.”

“Hehe. True.”

The person I’m talking to is Antony Agostini. He’s a vampire that’s been around since the 1800s. And yes, vampires are real, but not like the ones from Twilight. And I’m sure you already guessed, he’s not the only one. Throughout the world’s entire population, there are about over 100,000 vampires in existence.

“So I’ll see you this weekend?” I asked landing on my balcony. I take the bags off my broom.

“Sure. I’ll finish work early and drop by your place.” he agreed

“You’re a peach, Tony.”

“And you're a sweet treat.”

I giggled as I hung up. We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend in lovers terms, but we are close friends. He’s been calling me that since I was eight.

I opened the balcony door, and dropped the bags in a basket, before making a beeline to one of the hall closets. Suddenly, I heard a crash from the other door. Turning to the side, thinking it was Faye, my eyes widened in fear when I saw Nick staring at me, shock all over his face. Aw, shit.

What is he even doing here? How did he even know where I lived?

Awkward silence filled the room.

“You were flying on a broomstick!” he blurted out

“That’s the first thing you say?!” Seriously, that’s really his first choice of words?

“I just saw you outside the window! You were floating towards the balcony on a broom! What the hell?!”

It got even worse when Tippy came out of nowhere and landed on Nick’s shoulder. Now, when you think of the name Tippy, you think of a squirrel, right? This is not the case. Tippy is our family’s pet teacup dragon, a furry little creature with horns and feathered wings. And very curious about newcomers.

The two looked at each other, before Nicked panicked. Tippy flew to the closest shelf, as Nick fell to the floor. Tippy hissed at Nick, and I tried to call him down, before he accidentally attacks him.

“Tippy?” Faye poked her head into the room, seeing the pet on the shelf. “Tippy!”

She opened her arms, to which Tippy flew to. He snuggled around her neck, like a cat, before resting in her arms. She then noticed Nick on the floor, staring at her, before turning to me with a smug grin on her face.

“You’re in trouble.” she sang

“Don’t flatter yourself, you little imp. I know you had a part in this.”

She stuck her tongue out and ran back to her room.

We both looked at each other again, and another few moments of silence started again, until...

“You’re a witch?!”

Really? I swear, I felt an anger vein pop on my forehead.

“Your question’s timing is off! My god! Was it the pointy hat or the broom that gave it away?” I asked sarcastically, pointing at my hat and motioning my broom.

“The smoking cauldron, actually.” He pointed towards the iron black cauldron, black smoking coming from below the cover.

“Shit! It’s not supposed to do that!” I quickly ran over to the pot, taking the pot off, stirring the stew that was supposed to be simmering. Luckily, it wasn’t too badly burnt.

“Wait, you’re not supposed to be a witch!” Nick exclaimed

“Excuse me?”

“It was supposed to be an image! For appearances! You were supposed to have stuffed animals, pink walls and friggin’ ponies posters! You weren’t supposed to be an actual witch!” he yelled

“How dare you! Just because I don’t have stuffed animals in my room, doesn’t mean I’m not who I say I am! Besides, I'm sure you realize by now, but this isn’t my room.”

Nick just gave a blank stare.

“What?”

“You have stuffed animals in your room, don’t you?”

I embarrassingly blushed. The way he said that sounded more statement, than question.

“F-forget this! What are you even doing here?!”

“For our stupid project! Why else would be here?”

“Oh you to be kidding me. This isn’t even my room!”

“Your sister said left!”

After another moment of awkward silence and heavy breathing from the yelling, I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him out of the room. I shut the door behind us and turned the knob, changing the color from green to purple. I opened the door again, revealing my actual room.

“Holy, crap.” Nick ducked under my arms to take closer, look, to which I took the opportunity to kick him inside, before shutting the door behind us and locking it.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“What do you think? You sneak into my house, in an attempt to find my room.”

“First of all, your mom let me in. I told her that we are doing a project together, which is true, so she let me in.”

“You couldn’t just call or email? We do have that.”

“You never answered.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Nick sighed. “So, you’re a witch? Like a real witch? Like Bewitched and Sabrina witch?”

I sighed. “Yes, I’m a witch. So is my sister, and so is my mom.”

“And your dad?”

“Not a witch, but knows how to keep a secret.” I glared at him.

Nick swallowed as he stared at me nervously. “So, should I not call you a witch or…”

I held out my hand to stop him before he continued. “No, its fine. Just don’t touch anything.”

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Nick’s P.O.V.

I watched as Will looked through her bag for a few seconds before unlocking the lock to her door, and going through it.

“Stay here. Don’t move.” She warned. She quickly shut the door and locked it. Panicked, I went for the door, not only to find it open, but somehow turned into her closet. Jesus, technology ain’t got nothing on magic. I can’t believe I just said that.

Well, with nothing else to do but wait on Will, why not snoop through her room. Granted, not the smartest choice, but she did lock me in her room so, oh well.

I search her room, which is surprisingly organized. No creepy altar, no potions, nothing. While there were a few witchy stuff, they could be mistaken for toys or collector’s items. I was accurate on the stuffed animals and dolls. Her closet however, tells a different story. There were bright colors, dark colors, plaid and patterns. If had this many styles of clothing, then why doesn’t she wear them at school? Suddenly…

“GET OUT OF MY CLOSET!!” Will’s voice went through my head. It felt like I was in a room of large bells and they were ringing at the same time.

“Will?” I questioned my sanity, as I looked around for her, but not seeing her. “Are you speaking into my head?”

“Yes. its called telekinesis. Now get out!”

“How'd you know I’m in your closet?”

“Out!”

I quickly got out of the closet, and once I did it quickly shut behind me. The doorknob turned to the side, and out came Will, glaring at me as usual. She was carrying some type of tube in her hand.

“How’d you do that?” I asked more curious, than fearful now.

“Not telling. Now get out. I got family coming over for Mabon later, and I don’t want them questioning who the heck you are.”

I knew I should leave, but finding out that the school’s witch is an actual witch, peaked my curiosity. So I decided to go against my better judgement. “No.”

“What? Why not?”

“If you answer some of my questions, then I’ll leave.”

“Fine. But you only get three.”

“Okay. Um… How are you a witch?” I hurried through my question, without much thought on what to ask.

“I’m a hereditary witch. We’re born to do magic. Next.”

“What’s Mabon?”

“It’s basically Thanksgiving for witches and family. Last question.”

“Ok. How come you wear only black, when you have all those other clothing?”

She hesitated, red coloring her cheeks.

“I,... I… I can’t color coordinate.”

My cheeks puffed out trying not to laugh. “You can’t color coordinate?! Really?” I ended up failing, probably risking my life further by laughing at a witch.

“Alright, you got your questions. Now get out!” she ordered, still embarrassed. She started to push me out.

“What about the project?”

“We’ll work on it tomorrow after school. Now go!”

“Wilhelmina!”

Wilhelmina? Is that her name? My guess that it was her mom calling.

“Go!”

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

This time she directed me towards the side down of the apartment building, where she first went in, and slammed the door behind me. As I walked down to the bus stop, I think of the things I learn today. One, Will and her family are actual witches, with actual powers. Two, her real name is Wilhemina. To tell you the truth, I’d never would have guessed. Three, she can’t color coordinate. I continue to chuckle as I think about tomorrow.

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Will’s POV

The next day, dad dropped me off a school, early enough that the school wasn’t officially open, but kids, could still get inside.

“Hey Will.” I turned to see Maddy walking up towards me.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“I heard your dad’s car.” she answered

We continue our daily morning small talk, as we walked towards the school. I noticed Nick and his group by the edge of the school’s steps. We ignored them, as we walked passed them. But obviously, they didn’t decide to ignore us.

“Will!”

“Did someone call your name?” asked Maddy, just I opened the door.

“Who knows? Let’s just ignore him and go.”

“Will!”

“You sure? It sounds like Nick.”

“Again. Ignore him.”

“Wilhemina!”

I immediately froze the moment he said that. I turned around to see him being the only person staring at me. The few students outside, including Nick’s friends were looking around, confused, as to who the heck Wilhelmina is. Thank God, they’re stupid enough not to make the connection.

But how dare he!

I quickly stomped over to him, grabbed him by the shirt collar and dragged him through the school doors.

“Will?” questioned Maddy

“Sorry, Maddy. I’ll explain later. I’ll see you in class!”

I felt bad leaving my only friend in the dark, but this was serious.

Once we got to an empty classroom, I pushed him away.

“What. The. Hell.” I growled at him

“What?” he asked all so innocently

“How dare you say my name in public!”

“Isn’t it your name?”

“Yes, but I don’t want people to know my full name. It...” I hesitated before continuing. “...it brings a little mystery to me. Heck, if it wasn’t for the clothes I wear, they would have mistaken me for a boy a long time ago.”

I can see Nick trying not to laugh. “Don’t laugh! I’m serious!”

“Sorry. I needed to get your attention, and you were ignoring me. It wasn’t like I trying to embarrass you.” he said with a smile on his face

Liar.

“Also, I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Oh, God.”

“I though witches didn’t worship God.”

“Don’t mock me.”

I sighed as I rubbed the bridge between my eyes.

“So what do you want?” I groaned

“That place you came from. Where you were riding your broom? I know that wasn’t New York City. People would have noticed if there was a girl flying around on a broom.”

I saw that he was serious. Crap. I wasn’t expecting to see that too. It’s too late to wipe his memory, though I should have done that in the first place. I guess I have to tell my parents and break it to him slowly.

“Fine. I’ll tell you as we work on this project, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“How would you tell if I did?”

I took out a piece of paper and my athame switchblade, from my bag.

“Blood contract.”

“Isn’t that something the Devil would do!”

“Who said I’m not the devil?” I asked with a smirk

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Okay, I’m taking too long on this. Let me wrap this up.

For the next week, Nick and I worked on the project. As we did, I introduced him to the world of Arcanos. Think of it like a parallel world to Earth. After being grounded for two weeks and only getting released by passing on the project, I introduced him properly to my family. I even showed him a bit of Arcanos. It’s not technically a secret, but most residents of Arcanos are worried about regular humans. Faye wanted to meet his three sisters, but we’ll do that on a later date.

Hey Will, can you get your cat to stop staring at me? I know it sounds weird, but I feel like she’s staring directly into my soul.

Dalila stop staring at him!

But it’s so much fun! I love it when humans are weirded out like this!

Holy crap! It talked!

I’m a she! Not an it!

Okay, I gotta go before Nick either has a panic attack, or they attack each other.

I do not have panic attacks!

Anyway, gotta go!

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I ended up making this too long, so that’s why I cut it short like that (though its still long).

#witches #mabon 2020

0 notes

fictitiousfactoids · 8 years

Text

Dear Mary Ramirez,

You make some interesting points with your arguments on why you didn’t march for women. But, I did. As did my friends, and many (MANY) others (including other countries). And we all have valid reasons for why. But, instead of supporting our right to protest, you mock and humiliated our cause.

That’s okay, but I feel that you need to become aware of WHY we marched. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to address each point of your letter, and educate you on why we marched.

“I didn’t march for you because I didn’t need to.”

You’re right. YOU don’t need to. But, many women in other countries are still not viewed as equal citizens. America was the same way until the late 1940s, when the 19th amendment was ratified. But, amendments can be repealed too. Drinking was abolished with the 18th amendment, and repealed with the 21st. But, women like Susan B. Antony marched and protested for your right to vote, attend the same colleges as men, and even hold jobs in the same fields! (Look up woman doctors before the 1950s, go on, I’ll wait… Here, I’ll even make it easy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Women_in_medicine)

So, yes, YOU do have these rights… but, we marched to KEEP them.

(Woman’s suffage information: https://www.nwhm.org/online-exhibits/progressiveera/suffrage.html and http://www.history.com/topics/womens-history/the-fight-for-womens-suffrage )

(Information on the 19th amendment: http://www.history.com/topics/womens-history/19th-amendment )

“It’s a lie that because of sexism, women don’t make as much money as men.”

Yes, in control groups were independent variables can be eliminated the pay gap is almost unnoticeable, and is ‘explained’ away by ‘women choose jobs that pay less.’

First, how many of those women do you think aimed for a lower-paying career because of early discrimination:

“How will you spend time with your family if your working?”

“Do you think your job will let you have kids before you’re 40?”

“Well, you can’t expect your husband to do all the housework.”

Surely these statements affect how you view a profession, and how likely you are to pursue it. After all, men don’t have to worry about getting pregnant, so they don’t need to take care of kids. And men don’t have to do laundry or cleaning, that’s what their wife is for (By the way, my husband is a stay at home dad, so these statements are rhetoric, not personal.)

Women are EXPECTED to not work as much to take care of family members, and when compared to men with families, THEY SPEND MORE TIME DOING IT. Yeah, I said it. Surely you’re the first to volunteer to stay home from work when your daughter is sick. So, women are stereotyped away from jobs that would pay them more, because they would TAKE MORE TIME.

A much better breakdown of the whole wage gap can be found here: https://www.americanprogress.org/issues/economy/reports/2014/05/19/90039/explaining-the-gender-wage-gap/

“It’s a lie that because of sexism, we don’t have full rights over our bodies.”

Oh, ABORTION, you’re talking about ABORTION… Okay, let’s do this. I think we need to pull this entire paragraph apart.

“You are technically (we’ll chat about what you’re allowed to do later) able to do whatever you please with your body.”

Yes, we are. But we’re also the ones who have to live with the consequences of the actions when two consenting adults were involved (I’ll get into non-consenting parties here in a bit.) and the other party decides they’re not going to be responsible. We’re the ones who miss work (again there’s our pay) to go to appointments, and to actually HAVE the child; we have to then house them, feed them, cloth them, and take care of them, because we’re now a responsible single mother. Where’s the restricting law that forces the father to be involved? Well according to this breakdown: http://family-law.lawyers.com/childrens-rights/when-parents-are-unmarried.html , Father’s only job is to give you money if he knocks you up. He has to take action if he wants to be involved with the child care, you can’t force him. (What’s that saying? It takes two to tango?)

“No one’s stopping you, or any other woman.”

So, here’s where we cover non-consenting parties, or rape. While no one is stopping a willing woman from participating in carnal activities, sometimes they are forced to ‘participate’ unwillingly. I’ve got two scenarios here, we’ll walk through each one.

First one: victim of one time rape becomes pregnant with assailant’s child.

So now, on top of having to PROVE the assailant is the father, and now that he’s in jail and can’t care for the child because he committed rape, you want the survivor to practically grow a reminder of that trauma for the next nine months? “But adoption?” But nothing, they still have to live to give birth. And not everyone is strong enough to live through that. And I don’t think anyone should HAVE to. “But what if the father wants the child?” NO. Don’t care about his opinion at this point, because he’s in jail, remember? He can’t care for it.

Second one: Victim of continual rape (That sex slave meme that’s so popular right now…) is pregnant, but escaped assailant.

So, in America, a pimp has a knocked-up prostitute that managed to escape his control. She is now homeless, jobless, and about to have a child. Chances are, even if she did by some miracle have health care, she’ll end up in the same situation because she now needs to care for the child. Without a home, she can’t get a job, and without a job, she can’t afford a home. So, she’s stuck, turns to the only thing she knows, and will likely get pick up by another pimp who will then use her child to control her. Cycle continues.

In countries where they sell/buy/trade sex slaves, the women will again end up in the same cycle, especially with the current ban on immigrants/refugees. If they do manage to escape their situation, they again have no money, no job, and, in this one, nowhere to run. The woman in these countries are oppressed to begin with, and will either be executed for defying their ‘husband’ or given back to him so that he can continue what he’s doing. (Interesting though, that everyone that posts that meme is also against letting refugees in…)

Worse case scenario for these examples: these women desperately turn to trying to perform self abortions which are WAY more unsafe than a professional doing one, and either mutilate or kill themselves in the process.

“But these ladies think that being a woman gives us gals the right to decide what happens to other people’s bodies—bodies that are biologically, genetically, and scientifically separate bodies even though they’re growing inside of us when we’re pregnant.”

First, see the above where guys aren’t forced to live with the consequences of having a child, other than the pay cut, if they don’t want to. It has less to do with ‘being a woman’ and more to do with ‘well, I’m the one carrying it.’ Pretty sure men would want the same right if they were the ones getting pregnant. But I digress. What I really want to talk about here is the late term abortions. Especially the ‘growing inside of us’ phrase.

What if it’s not?

What it, physically it’s growing, but, it never developed a brain, so (if it even survives birth) it’s going to be born brain dead. What if the lungs have stopped developing, or the heart, and it won’t be able to support itself once it’s cut from the umbilical cord. What if my doctor tells me to stop planning the nursery and start planning it’s funeral.

Would you be able to live with the knowledge that you're not awaiting your child’s birth, you’re waiting for it’s death? If you are, you’re a much stronger person than me. I don’t think I’d be able to even speak to the first person to ask me how my baby is after I got that news. We’re talking about people who have a wanted pregnancy where something goes horribly wrong (Here’s one woman’s first hand experience with this: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/xojane-/this-is-what-its-really-like-to-have-a-late-term-abortion_b_8264562.html)

(Here’s information from an actual doctor: https://drjengunter.wordpress.com/2016/10/20/donald-trump-confuses-birth-with-abortion-and-no-there-are-no-ninth-month-abortions/

and if that’s not enough, forbes seems to have found it creditable: http://www.forbes.com/forbes/welcome/?toURL=http://www.forbes.com/sites/tarahaelle/2016/10/20/no-late-term-abortions-dont-rip-babies-out-of-wombs-but-they-are-needed )

“It’s a lie because of sexism, women have to pay a special tax for products that we biologically must use.”

Well this one’s been debunked, actually. Unless you live in PA, NJ, MA, MD, or MN (or one of the lucky states with no sales tax). And no, it’s not outright called the ‘tampon tax’. That would clue us in on this. But, do you know what isn’t taxed in most states with a sales tax: Necessities. Medical Supplies are lumped in with that (http://www.salestaxsupport.com/blogs/industry/medical-industry-tax/which-states-tax-medical-devices/) But… Sales taxes are still applied to tampons. And some states (Looking right at you Texas) even label feminine hygiene products as a luxury, so not only do texians pay a sales tax, there’s also an applied luxury tax. I mean, the Texas senate called them a ‘prop’. Double whammy. Funny, though: In ND, adult diapers aren’t taxed. Since, you know, they’re for bladder dysfunctions. And, New York doesn’t tax wine at wine tastings or dry cleaning (but tampons are still taxable). And, as far as men not being charged for a ‘comparable product’: Viagra isn’t taxed because it’s prescribable. Ask a doctor to write a prescription for tampons and see what they say.

(Sources: http://fusion.net/story/142965/states-that-tax-tampons-period-tax/ , http://time.com/money/3907775/states-tax-tampons-candy-america/ ,and http://dfw.cbslocal.com/2016/02/10/another-debate-on-the-luxury-tax-on-tampons/ )

“It’s a lie that because of sexism, we women are the only ones who have to worry about harassment and abuse”

Okay, I’ll agree with you on this one. After all, no one should suffer this. But there is OH SO MUCH victim blaming. (Hell, just a google search will give you this, but just in case: https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#safe=off&q=colorado+senator+tells+rape+victim ) Society places the blame on the survivor instead of the assailant. “You shouldn’t have been there”, “Well, if you weren’t drinking”, “Where you wearing something provocative?”. NONE OF THAT MATTERS! If someone wanted to be ‘raped’ then it wouldn’t be called ‘rape’, and charges wouldn’t be pressed (It’s called BS/DM, and ‘50 shades’ did a horrible job of portraying it). It wouldn’t be called ‘harassment’ if it was wanted attention. And here’s where feminism gets confused with fem-nazism so much: true feminist want equality for EVERYONE, regardless of genitalia (fem-nazis are the ones who only care if you have a who-ha).

“It’s a lie that because of sexism, people don’t care about our smarts.”

More women DO go to college. This is true. But how much of that is because they can’t get into trade labor? Here’s an excellent article about women in trade labor: http://www.chicagotribune.com/business/ct-women-in-trades-0417-biz-20150420-story.html

So, if the only way to get a job is to go to college, you go. Because you’re going to need that money to feed your illegitimate child and afford your taxed tampons. But mostly to pay your school loans once you’re out. After all: 51% of college grads from 2014 ended up in an unskilled workforce: http://www.careerbuilder.com/share/aboutus/pressreleasesdetail.aspx?sd=10%2F9%2F2014&id=pr846&ed=10%2F9%2F2099 .

“It’s a lie that because of sexism, there aren’t more female leaders”

I’m actually going to aim for a different part of this paragraph: “Want to be a leader? Pick that path. No one’s stopping you.”

Remember that whole discussion on career choice? Well, do you think you’ll have time to raise your kids if you're a CEO? Do you think you can put that on hold and have kids? Because you can’t, according to society. So, you’re better off being a secretary, or maybe a nurse, that pays well… and has available jobs!

“It’s a lie that because of sexism, we don’t all get paid maternity leave.”

Only if you work in America: http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2016/09/26/u-s-lacks-mandated-paid-parental-leave/

Estonia gets 87 weeks! (For those not good at math, that’s over a year. There’s 52 weeks in a year.) Out of 41 developed countries, we are the only ones who have no legislation protecting parents (both mother and father) for taking time off work to care for their newborn or adopted child. This isn’t economics, this is just ignorance. Mexico has paid paternity leave. Japan’s in the top four, and they’re workaholics over there! (even CHINA has better legislation than us, and they govern how many children you’re allowed! http://www.loc.gov/law/foreign-news/article/china-maternity-leave-further-extended-by-provinces/ )

Another interesting fact is that having paid paternity leave doesn’t seem to negatively impact businesses as much as they say: http://fortune.com/2015/02/05/paid-parental-leave-costs/

“Finally, it’s a lie that any of our human rights as women are going away just because someone whose politics these ladies don’t agree with suddenly became president.”

http://www.cnn.com/2017/01/26/politics/executive-orders-presidents-actions-presidential-memoranda/index.html

It’s actually quite common for new presidents to start signing away things they don’t like from the old president. I mean, he’s already tried to discriminate against a religion: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/29/nyregion/trump-travel-ban-protests-briefing.html?_r=0

So, no, you didn’t need to march for feminism. And it’s great that you’ve never experienced the persecution others have, simply for being born a woman. But we still marched for you, and your daughter, and mine, and millions of women all over the world. Because America may have voted to have a chauvinistic narcissist representing us on the world stage, but that doesn’t mean that he defines American values. And maybe, because we were born in a country with more privileges, we should be the first to take the stand when something isn’t right.

(And for the record, I voted for Sanders)

#this was long #women's suffrage #womansmarch #march on washington #realtosome #equal rights #just gonna leave this here #i should probably sleep

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millennialdeconstructed · 6 years

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the moment I realized everything was happening...and would keep happening

11.2.18

Well well well. It’s been quite a few weeks since my last full post, and even more since I said I would post. I can definitely understand how kids in college go abroad getting everyone they know to subscribe to their wordpress blog and falling off of posting after just a few weeks. And it’s most definitely because they’re actually living their experiences instead of jotting it all down, but as the days have gone by, I felt myself in desperate need of laying everything down so I could process it all in one continuum, and consequently move forward in my life. So much has happened in the last few weeks that my head is spinning, and I can only be grateful that life is moving as quickly and fully as it is these days.

I’m nearing eight weeks in New York City this coming weekend, and I’m baffled as to how much internal turmoil I’ve experienced. I wish I could include a laughing emoji here, but I won’t, and it probably wouldn’t show up on tumblr anyway. I say turmoil not to be melodramatic nor to suggest any negativity, but to sincerely express the truth. I have been pulled in so many different directions emotionally since moving here, and there are a multitude of reasons: I came to a new city, I started a new job, I didn’t really know anybody, I kept getting lost on trains, I have to pay rent, and then I have to pay bills, but before that I have to get paid, and I have to learn new things at work, and be challenged by new situations, new people, and I have to put myself out there in order to build my social life, annnd make time to meal prep, go to the gym, and spare enough time to sit at the laundromat somewhere in the week, too. AND maybe get a decent night of sleep every night, because that’s crucial to surviving a workday.

I know, I know. That’s life! People live it every day! But when everything about that is new and happens literally all at once, especially coming out of a year where I was still in college, then spent the summer with my parents in the suburbs, it felt like a lot. In addition, I’m very new to a city, and being me, I want to envelope a city and squeeze everything out of it that I can, so I’ve spent much of my free time acting like I’m on a time-stamped vacation and trying to explore as many nooks and crannies of NYC that I can. In essence, I’m exhausted.

But wait! I also spontaneously got a side gig as a barista at a bougie little cafe in greenwich village, owned by antoni porowski of queer eye on netflix. I applied because I clicked on his instagram story, which led me to the website, and I thought, hey, I have barista experience, i’m new here and am existentially bored during the evenings after my 9-5 job, and the extra cash + social interaction would be a great time. This happened during the week I shall dub as “the one where everything happened to me,” a la Friends episode title style. Here’s how everything happened to me in literally the span of one day:

It was a Tuesday. I want to say, October 9th. My full-time job was finally picking up and I was getting pretty busy. I had an interview at the cafe immediately right after - it’s just two blocks away from my main job, which was why I thought it was ideal as a side gig to do a couple of nights a week. I went, and had the most amazing conversation with the owners and was so intrigued and excited about the cool people I would meet while working there. I was, at the time, also talking to a very interesting guy on the dating app Hinge, with whom I was vibing hard (see next post for more details). He asked me to, quote: “get ice cream sometime? or coffee? or both?” to which I obviously agreed, because those are my two favorite things in the world. And then, I met up with an aunt whom I have never met, and she ended up being so hip and ~cool~ and shared all of her wild stories of having once lived in NYC in the early 2000s. We then went to the top of the Empire State Building at midnight, and 80 some floors in the tallest point in New York City, I truly couldn’t believe how much had happened since I’d moved here, let alone in that day alone. In just five weeks, I had gotten a SECOND job, had a potential date, and capping it off with an insane view of the city at night just felt so surreal and like life was really starting to come together.

But that was October 9th, right? And today is November 2nd? Right. So immediately after that week, I started the second job, and while it’s just as fun as I expected it to be, immediately got insanely sick due to sleep deprivation from working 9 AM-11 PM, got ghosted by that guy who I had actually been willing to meet up with, and my main job picked up so much that I was mentally and physically exhausted, and suddenly, my dream life wasn’t so dreamy anymore. Because how else can life be other than to shit on you just when you think you had it good?

Needless to say, it took a few weeks to fully recover and reorient myself again, with a side gig to add to my routine and the need to adjust other factors. The only consistent thing I’ve experienced since moving here is the adaptation. It’s the expectation to constantly be bombarded by the unexpected. I came here and immediately forced myself into a routine, so I could make my life and actually be living it, rather than adjusting. I’ve come to realize, and I’m sure I will continue to do so, that the adaptation is a necessary and demanding part of building a life and routine, and that I should embrace it rather than override it.

Cheers,

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cover2covermom · 6 years

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Goodbye July & hello August!

It is so crazy to think that summer is almost over. My kids will be returning to school in T-minus 2 weeks! As much as I dread the crazy schedule, I am ready to get back into the swing of things… well that and my children are driving me crazy, so it’s time to go back lol

Let’s see what I had going on in July shall we?

At the beginning of the month, I committed to making my blog a priority again. I am slowly starting to get back into the blogging groove and be active in the community again. I must say it feels great to be more consistent again.

» Sisi: Empress on Her Own by Allison Pataki

Feelings in a few thoughts:

I’m very conflicted with my feelings with this one. I am not sure my rating is fair either. When I requested this on NetGalley, I didn’t realize that it was actually the SECOND book in the series. I read this one without reading the first book, so this may have impacted my reading experience. Take my thoughts/rating with a grain of salt.

Before reading this, I knew nothing about Empress Elisabeth of Austria-Hungary (Sisi). I really like how the author took a controversial figure in history and tried to shed some light on her motivations in life.

The time hops throughout the book felt a little jarring at times. The transitions felt a little off.

Sisi wasn’t exactly a likeable character, at least for me. Despite the author’s attempts to show Sisi’s point of view, I still couldn’t help but cringe at Sisi’s selfishness throughout the novel.

» Cleopatra’s Daughter by Michelle Moran

Feelings in a few thoughts:

I really enjoyed this fictionalized account of the early years of Cleopatra Selene after she is taken in by Emperor Augustus after he defeated her parents, Mark Antony & Cleopatra.

This is my second novel about Cleopatra Selene, the first being The Daughter’s of Palatine Hill, I really liked both versions despite the fact that the authors’ portrayed the characters very differently. Both books are good for different reasons: In Cleopatra’s Daughter, Moran really did a fantastic job with the setting and time period. In Daughter’s of Palatine Hill, Smith did a great job with the political intrigue and cut-throat drama of the era.

The biggest strength of this novel was how well Moran set the scene. You could really picture what it was like to live in Ancient Rome – at least how the ruling class lived. When I read historical fiction, I want the author to take me to another time and place, and Moran did just that.

I wasn’t a fan of the audiobook narrator in the early parts of the book. She went too overboard with her “whiney child voice” for portraying the characters as young children.

» The Keeper of Lost Things by Ruth Hogan

Feelings in a few thoughts:

This was a very sweet & charming story.

TKoLT felt more like a novella – coming in at just under 300 pages. Since this was such a short book, Hogan may have been a little too ambitious with everything she included.

My biggest complaint would be that Laura’s romance in the novel took too much of a central role.

I really liked how the author gave us back stories for the lost things. It almost felt like we were getting short stories throughout the novel.

I wanted more about the Keeper of Lost Things. I also felt like the reuniting of the lost things was anti-climatic. I was expecting the lost things to have made a bigger impact in the novel.

I could see how the format of the novel could be confusing, especially if you were listening to this audiobook format. I would recommend reading this book instead of listening to it.

Overall I did enjoy this book, but the story had potential to be so much more.

» Dumplin’ (Dumplin’ #1) by Julie Murphy

Feelings in a few thoughts:

Wonderful YA book that tackles themes like friendship, mother-daughter relationships, body shaming, self-acceptance, first love, etc.

I feel like Murphy did a wonderful job creating a character whom those of us who have struggled with our weight and/or other body issues can all relate to. I was really able to see my high school self in Willowdean.

I know many critics of this book cite that Willowdean (Dumplin’) wasn’t exactly a likable character and treated people badly, which is absolutely true. HOWEVER she felt like a very real character. I don’t know if you remember being a teenager, but I was an asshole at times. You know, teen angst and all that. Does this excuse her actions? No. I could just understand the frustrations Willowdean was experiencing and why she had a chip on her shoulder. By the end of the book, Willowdean does show a tremendous amount of growth & development.

There was a love triangle, however it did not feel like the love triangle trope.

I was not a fan of the audiobook narrator. She did wonderfully for the female parts, but once we got to characters like Bo and Mitch, it was hard to listen to. If you listened to the audiobook, I’m sure you know what I am talking about.

» The Name of the Wind (The Kingkiller Chronical #1) by Patrick Rothfuss

Feelings in a few thoughts

When I saw that the mass market paperback edition I received from the library was 722 pages, I may have freaked out a bit. I am NOT a fan of tomes. It did take me just over a week to read, which is probably normal for me since I typically read about 2 books a week.

The Name of the Wind is not at all what I was expecting. For some reason, I was anticipating a high fantasy story, but in reality I would consider it more of an epic fantasy. Sure, there are fantasy elements here, but the story felt very grounded in reality.

I really enjoyed the story, but is so hard to describe it. The book had action, but would I consider it action packed? No. It had “magic,” but was the book full of it? No. The book includes a hero in the making, but did it feel like a hero story? No. Was this book compelling? YES! Why? I don’t know!!!

I know this is odd to say, but I got Harry Potter vibes from this book. This isn’t to say the plots were similar (there are a few similar elements), but rather I got the same feelings I remember having as a kid reading Harry Potter.

Kvothe is my new book boyfriend. Definitely one of my new favorite characters. He is clever, smart, stubborn, witty, mischievous, kind, determined, etc.

» Hunger: A Memior of (My) Body by Roxane Gay

*4.5 Stars*

Feelings in a few thoughts:

I love how real Roxane is. I don’t always agree with her beliefs, but I never get that “my views are right and others’ are wrong” vibe from her. I respect that she’s not afraid to talk about the hard things. Her books always make me think.

Despite the fact that I was classified as morbidly obese at one point in my life (my BMI was 40, so I was on the borderline of this category), I gained new insights to the struggles of those who are placed in this category. I never had to worry about things like fitting into an airplane seat, seat belt extenders, stepping up onto a stage, seats with armrests, etc. Reading this book can really shed light on the challenges those who are morbidly obese must face every day. Definitely a perspective that I wish more people would read.

Loved that Roxane narrated this audiobook herself. It was very well done.

There are so many powerful moments in this book…

“This is a memoir of (my) body because, more often than not, stories of bodies like mine are ignored or dismissed or derided. People see bodies like mine and make their assumptions. They think they know the why of my body. They do not.”

“The bigger you are, the smaller your world becomes.”

“As a woman, as a fat woman, I am not supposed to take up space. And yet, as a feminist, I am encouraged to believe I can take up space. I live in a contradictory space where I should try to take up space but not too much of it, and not in the wrong way, where the wrong way is any way where my body is concerned.”

» Smoke in the Sun (Flame in the Mist #2) by Renée Ahdieh

*3.5 Stars*

Feelings in a few thoughts:

Many of the questions I had throughout the Flame in the Mist were finally answered in this book. My biggest complaint with the first book was that I was confused about the fantasy elements, but things were cleared up in Smoke in the Sun.

I loved Mariko’s character in this series. She is confident, intelligent, clever, brave, strong, etc. A great lead character in a YA book. I respected her for always sticking to her convictions and not letting anyone, even the boy she loves, sway her from her goals.

The villain in this book was not developed enough. The best villains, in my opinion, have motivations behind their actions, but I didn’t see any reasoning behind any motivations here.

While I appreciate that this was the conclusion to this series and not a series that drags on unnecessarily like so many YA series out there, I wasn’t exactly satisfied when I finished it. Unfortunately this book felt rushed & abruptly ended. The book either needed to be longer, or this needed to be a trilogy.

I debated between the 3.5 star rating and a 4 star rating. I really did enjoy this series, but I feel like it had the potential to be more.

» Bright We Burn (The Conqueror’s Saga #3) by Kiersten White

Feelings in a few thoughts:

Fantastic finish to a GREAT YA historical fiction series. Actually, I feel like the books progressively got better with each installment. Favorite book of the series!

Lada is a very complex main character. If you are a fan of anti-hero stories, and would fancy one with a badass female anti-hero, here is the series for you! While Lada does have some good qualities – loyalty, strength, drive, etc – she does whatever is necessary to obtain her goals, regardless of the cost. Despite her bloodthirsty ways, I couldn’t help but like and admire Lada.

Radu! I loved him more with each passing book. His progression over the series was very satisfying to watch. Whereas the other main characters, Lada & Mehmed, stayed constant throughout the series (Lada is vicious and Mehmed is an asshat) Radu goes through a tremendous amount of personal growth.

June 2018 Bookish Wrap-Up + Book Haul

Ohioana Book Festival 2018 + Book Haul

Book Review: The Daughters of Palatine Hill by Phyllis T. Smith

Book Event: Sabaa Tahir’s Book Tour for A Reaper at the Gates

Book Review: Eligible by Curtis Sittenfeld

Favorite Books of 2018 (1st Half)

Physical Books:

» The Name of the Wind (The Kingkiller Chronicles #1) by Patrick Rothfuss

*Signed by the author*

» Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

*I have two other copies of this book, but I picked up a lovely edition at my local Costco. It is a pink leather cover with quotes from the book all over the front. It is gorgeous! I wish they had one for Jane Eyre 😦

Which books did you read in July?

Have you read any of the books I read or hauled this month? If so, what did you think?

Did you buy any books? If so, which ones?

Comment below & let me know 🙂

Today I share which #books I read in July + my #bookhaul. What did you #read in July? #BookBlogger #Bookworm #AmReading Goodbye July & hello August! It is so crazy to think that summer is almost over. My kids will be returning to school in T-minus 2 weeks!

#Am Reading #Bibliophile #book blog #book blogger #Book Nerd #Book Worm #Bookish #Books #Bookworm #Reading #TBR #Wrap Up

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cynthiajayusa · 6 years

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The Tasty Star of Netflix’s ‘Queer Eye’ Talks Fluid Sexuality

Antoni Porowski is known for his avocados. But on a recent afternoon he was contemplating the coconut, mapping every sultry detail of the tropical fruit as if it were the body of a new lover: the fleshy inside, the milky nectar.

It’s the first day of June when the Polish-Canadian wine-and-dine expert on Netflix’s Queer Eye reboot rings and, oh right, we’re talking about food. But gay America isn’t hungry: It’s thirsty AF.

And because real lives are being changed thanks to Porowski, designer Bobby Berk, culture advisor Karamo Brown, stylist Tan France, and groomer Jonathan Van Ness, it is also joyfully crying.

Season 2 of Queer Eye — note the dropped qualifier, a nod to the show’s new inclusivity — doesn’t skimp on opportunities for you to feel good about this otherwise not-good world, as the Fab Five imparts their best-life insight and general gay wisdom to a diverse group of clients, including the franchise’s first woman and transgender man.

As Porowski continues to process the experience, and the attendant upswing in gay male thirst and avocado sex puns, the 34-year-old subject of culinary controversy talked critics and why variety truly is the spice of life.

In the new promo video for the show, with Betty Who singing the theme, you’re cradling avocados and wearing a crop top. The avocado dick puns have been out in full force.

I guess I asked for it, right? I’m literally wearing a crop top and unsuccessfully trying to juggle avocados, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

WATCH:

youtube

I must say, I do hope the crop top becomes your signature look in the third season.

[Laughs.] Thanks! I do have to give credit where it’s due, and that was 100 percent Tan France.

When it comes to you, the thirst is real. What is that kind of attention like from the gay community?

I do maintain a certain amount of ignorance to it — and a kind of detachment. There’s been a lot of really amazing and positive attention from the show. But with that, there’s also gonna be haters. If I’m gonna take the good, I have to take the bad, so I’ve decided to take neither.

I just try to focus on what my next move is with this show, with press that we’re working on, living out of hotels for the past couple of months, and hoping that people really enjoy [this season] as much as they did the first.

When you’re living out of hotels, how do you maintain a healthy diet?

I don’t! That’s the honest truth. I’m not one to deny myself the pleasures of, like, a good ripe stinky cheese on a crusty slice of fresh-baked bread in Paris.

Oh, I’ve seen you indulge on the show.

It happens.

You’re not afraid of some macaroni salad.

There ya go! Well, but that wasn’t my recipe.

It wasn’t, but you still ate it.

Oh, I ate it. I’ll try anything twice.

Are you still trying to wrap your head around your overnight fame?

Yeah. I mean, it certainly hits in waves. We were just in London, and when you experience people who’ve been waiting outside of your hotel with magazines to sign, it’s kind of like, “Wow, you’re a human with a life and a job, presumably, who wanted to wait to have a moment.” I’m grateful for it, but it’s not something I want to be too comfortable with. It’s very bizarre and very overwhelming.

What my therapist tells me is, “Don’t trust your feelings right now because you’re constantly basically running on adrenaline — your life right now is pure adrenaline.” It’s been like overdrive, so it’s just, take everything very lightly.

What are your gay fan interactions outside of hotels like?

I feel like I’m pretty good at reading people, but with fans, the energy and the direction of it is very different. So my thing is: Ask them a question about themselves, try to make this a human interaction, and try to normalize it, just to make sure that the person has a nice, meaningful experience and they can leave happy.

[But] sometimes I’m left, like, taking care of people. They’ll come up, and their mouths open and they don’t say anything. I have to kind of take care of them and be like, “Are you OK? It’s fine. Here, do you want a hug? Do you want a photo?”

You don’t just go right in for the hug?

No, I’m a little — yeah, I have more of a European sensibility. We like to kiss twice. Or, I don’t know, healthy boundaries?

Kiss twice, though? Everyone must just enjoy meeting you.

[Laughs.]

How has helping other people on this show changed your approach to your own life?

I’ve had many passions: I studied psychology; I worked as a gallery director; I photographed vintage furniture. And on the acting side of things, that was something that was always very ego[-driven]. I wanted people to look and see and feel my presence, whereas with the show, it actually isn’t that at all. The energy is directed in the other direction, so it’s really us being of service to this person that we’re helping.

We see that happen in the first episode of Season 2, with Mama Tammye

Mama Tammye is an example who spun it on us, and doesn’t even take care of herself and shows up as a teacher and as a member of her church, and for the five of us.

You cried at the end of that episode. Of the Fab Five, who cries the most?

You’re talking to him! When you hear somebody’s struggle, or especially when they’ve overcome something or made a choice like Tammye — there was a lot of pain and a lot of fear and borderline hateful feelings toward gays, and she realized that it was her perspective that was wrong, and she’s a beacon of hope for people.

It’s possible at any age. If you have people like Tammye who were able to figure it out, there’s no excuse for the rest of us.

Even though you’ve been with men and women, you’ve said that you don’t like to call yourself bisexual. Have you found the best way to explain your sexual orientation to people yet?

Not really. And it’s not something I feel too pressured to figure out.

I have very strong opinions about how to cook a filet of salmon so the skin remains crispy and doesn’t stick to the pan, but with a lot of things, I don’t like being the expert. I’d rather go in and be like, “I don’t know.” There’s a power in that for me. It’s sort of like going in with humility and saying, “I’m still trying to figure it out.”

While I don’t think I’m trying to figure out my sexuality, I’m just not as concerned with it anymore. It’s this dynamic process. I’d just rather keep it open and fluid, because that’s how I am with the books that I read, the music that I listen to. All of my interests are always changing, and it’s a constant dynamic process, and so is my sexuality.

Is today June 1?

Today is June 1.

It has me thinking about Pride and what Pride means: the ability to be the truest version of yourself without any negative consequence or fear of being persecuted or judged or criticized or hurt for it. And whatever that is for a person, however you define yourself or don’t define yourself, you should be able to do that with total freedom.

I read that you were a private chef for some high-profile clients.

It was something that kind of happened accidentally, cooking for people. I’m not a classically trained chef, where I’m in a kitchen and I’m doing my own thing; I’m an entertainer, that’s who I am. And I love food, and I love playing with it, and I love preparing it for people. It’s how I show my love.

It wasn’t an everyday thing, where I showed up and made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for someone. I’ve always had, like, 10 different things going on at the same time.

If you could cook for any celebrity, who would it be and what would you cook?

Dead or alive?

They can be dead.

I would take something off of the menu at Voltaire in Paris, and I would prepare it for Oscar Wilde. I would slap my copy of De Profundis in front of him and be like, “We’re gonna talk about this for five hours, and I’m gonna feed your belly, and I’m gonna get you drunk, and you’re just gonna tell me everything and answer all of my questions.”

You’re on a desert island and you have to survive on just one food: What is it?

I love a fresh coconut. You crack it and you have the milk, which is so delicious, but the flesh too. There’s that creamy part on the inside that you can scoop with a spoon, and then there’s the really hard shell part that, if you roast it with sugar, it gets caramelized and really nice and crunchy.

So, I think coconuts. I’d get fed up with them after a week, but I don’t know what food I wouldn’t get fed up about, truly. Ask me again tomorrow.

I’ve never thought about the flesh of a coconut until now, and it sounds weirdly sexy.

[Laughs.] Oh, think about it. Go buy a fresh coconut and think of me.

WATCH:

youtube

source https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/06/28/the-tasty-star-of-netflixs-queer-eye-talks-fluid-sexuality/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazin.blogspot.com/2018/06/the-tasty-star-of-netflixs-queer-eye.html

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demitgibbs · 6 years

Text

The Tasty Star of Netflix’s ‘Queer Eye’ Talks Fluid Sexuality

And because real lives are being changed thanks to Porowski, designer Bobby Berk, culture advisor Karamo Brown, stylist Tan France, and groomer Jonathan Van Ness, it is also joyfully crying.

In the new promo video for the show, with Betty Who singing the theme, you’re cradling avocados and wearing a crop top. The avocado dick puns have been out in full force.

I guess I asked for it, right? I’m literally wearing a crop top and unsuccessfully trying to juggle avocados, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

WATCH:

youtube

I must say, I do hope the crop top becomes your signature look in the third season.

[Laughs.] Thanks! I do have to give credit where it’s due, and that was 100 percent Tan France.

When it comes to you, the thirst is real. What is that kind of attention like from the gay community?

When you’re living out of hotels, how do you maintain a healthy diet?

I don’t! That’s the honest truth. I’m not one to deny myself the pleasures of, like, a good ripe stinky cheese on a crusty slice of fresh-baked bread in Paris.

Oh, I’ve seen you indulge on the show.

It happens.

You’re not afraid of some macaroni salad.

There ya go! Well, but that wasn’t my recipe.

It wasn’t, but you still ate it.

Oh, I ate it. I’ll try anything twice.

Are you still trying to wrap your head around your overnight fame?

What are your gay fan interactions outside of hotels like?

You don’t just go right in for the hug?

No, I’m a little — yeah, I have more of a European sensibility. We like to kiss twice. Or, I don’t know, healthy boundaries?

Kiss twice, though? Everyone must just enjoy meeting you.

[Laughs.]

How has helping other people on this show changed your approach to your own life?

We see that happen in the first episode of Season 2, with Mama Tammye

Mama Tammye is an example who spun it on us, and doesn’t even take care of herself and shows up as a teacher and as a member of her church, and for the five of us.

You cried at the end of that episode. Of the Fab Five, who cries the most?

It’s possible at any age. If you have people like Tammye who were able to figure it out, there’s no excuse for the rest of us.

Even though you’ve been with men and women, you’ve said that you don’t like to call yourself bisexual. Have you found the best way to explain your sexual orientation to people yet?

Not really. And it’s not something I feel too pressured to figure out.

Is today June 1?

Today is June 1.

I read that you were a private chef for some high-profile clients.

It wasn’t an everyday thing, where I showed up and made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for someone. I’ve always had, like, 10 different things going on at the same time.

If you could cook for any celebrity, who would it be and what would you cook?

Dead or alive?

They can be dead.

You’re on a desert island and you have to survive on just one food: What is it?

So, I think coconuts. I’d get fed up with them after a week, but I don’t know what food I wouldn’t get fed up about, truly. Ask me again tomorrow.

I’ve never thought about the flesh of a coconut until now, and it sounds weirdly sexy.

[Laughs.] Oh, think about it. Go buy a fresh coconut and think of me.

WATCH:

youtube

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/06/28/the-tasty-star-of-netflixs-queer-eye-talks-fluid-sexuality/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/175340031015

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hotspotsmagazine · 6 years

Text

The Tasty Star of Netflix’s ‘Queer Eye’ Talks Fluid Sexuality

And because real lives are being changed thanks to Porowski, designer Bobby Berk, culture advisor Karamo Brown, stylist Tan France, and groomer Jonathan Van Ness, it is also joyfully crying.

In the new promo video for the show, with Betty Who singing the theme, you’re cradling avocados and wearing a crop top. The avocado dick puns have been out in full force.

I guess I asked for it, right? I’m literally wearing a crop top and unsuccessfully trying to juggle avocados, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

WATCH:

youtube

I must say, I do hope the crop top becomes your signature look in the third season.

[Laughs.] Thanks! I do have to give credit where it’s due, and that was 100 percent Tan France.

When it comes to you, the thirst is real. What is that kind of attention like from the gay community?

When you’re living out of hotels, how do you maintain a healthy diet?

I don’t! That’s the honest truth. I’m not one to deny myself the pleasures of, like, a good ripe stinky cheese on a crusty slice of fresh-baked bread in Paris.

Oh, I’ve seen you indulge on the show.

It happens.

You’re not afraid of some macaroni salad.

There ya go! Well, but that wasn’t my recipe.

It wasn’t, but you still ate it.

Oh, I ate it. I’ll try anything twice.

Are you still trying to wrap your head around your overnight fame?

What are your gay fan interactions outside of hotels like?

You don’t just go right in for the hug?

No, I’m a little — yeah, I have more of a European sensibility. We like to kiss twice. Or, I don’t know, healthy boundaries?

Kiss twice, though? Everyone must just enjoy meeting you.

[Laughs.]

How has helping other people on this show changed your approach to your own life?

We see that happen in the first episode of Season 2, with Mama Tammye

Mama Tammye is an example who spun it on us, and doesn’t even take care of herself and shows up as a teacher and as a member of her church, and for the five of us.

You cried at the end of that episode. Of the Fab Five, who cries the most?

It’s possible at any age. If you have people like Tammye who were able to figure it out, there’s no excuse for the rest of us.

Even though you’ve been with men and women, you’ve said that you don’t like to call yourself bisexual. Have you found the best way to explain your sexual orientation to people yet?

Not really. And it’s not something I feel too pressured to figure out.

Is today June 1?

Today is June 1.

I read that you were a private chef for some high-profile clients.

It wasn’t an everyday thing, where I showed up and made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for someone. I’ve always had, like, 10 different things going on at the same time.

If you could cook for any celebrity, who would it be and what would you cook?

Dead or alive?

They can be dead.

You’re on a desert island and you have to survive on just one food: What is it?

So, I think coconuts. I’d get fed up with them after a week, but I don’t know what food I wouldn’t get fed up about, truly. Ask me again tomorrow.

I’ve never thought about the flesh of a coconut until now, and it sounds weirdly sexy.

[Laughs.] Oh, think about it. Go buy a fresh coconut and think of me.

WATCH:

youtube

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/06/28/the-tasty-star-of-netflixs-queer-eye-talks-fluid-sexuality/

0 notes

cto10121 · 7 years

Text

don’t know where else to put my sniping over this cringeworthy essay at harper’s, so it’s going here. be warned: there will be high-level snark

‘‘If nostalgic cartoonists had never borrowed from Fritz the Cat, there would be no Ren & Stimpy Show; without the Rankin/Bass and Charlie Brown Christmas specials, there would be no South Park; and without The Flintstones — more or less The Honeymooners in cartoon loincloths — The Simpsons would cease to exist. If those don’t strike you as essential losses, then consider the remarkable series of “plagiarisms” that links Ovid’s “Pyramus and Thisbe” with Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and Leonard Bernstein’s West Side Story, or Shakespeare’s description of Cleopatra, copied nearly verbatim from Plutarch’s life of Mark Antony and also later nicked by T. S. Eliot for The Waste Land. If these are examples of plagiarism, then we want more plagiarism.”

ay ay ay ay ay what the fuck is this shit show

so this idiot cultural conservative has obviously no idea what plagiarism means and if he thinks shakespeare ‘‘plagiarized’’ romeo and juliet from ovid’s pyramus and thisbe and even that leonard bernstein and stephen sondheim (?!!) did it for west side story. plagiarism is taking another’s words, phrases, and - with some obvious, very vast exceptions - ideas VERBATIM or with minimal deviation from the original and taking them as your own. reusing characters and tropes, especially common ones in the public domain, are NOT plagiarism.

shakespeare, like virtually every writer of his time, borrowed liberally from his sources, as it was almost required for every writer to write and adapt stories already well-known and in existence. granted, shakespeare did flirt with actual legit plagiarism on the (extremely lazy) occasion, and those lines from anthony and cleopatra are the closest and most damning. but even then the wording is not exact, the purpose different, and elsewhere shakespeare did not borrow without radically transforming the material to suit his purposes. prospero’s incantation starts off like medea’s spell from ovid’s metamorphoses before it veers off into something else altogether. shakespeare also made sure to quote and honor his contemporary christopher marlowe’s famous line in his play as you like it: “dear shepherd, now i find thy line of might / ‘whoever loved, that loved not at first sight?’’’ the difference is that marlowe was a contemporary and possible friend of shakespeare, and it was his line; ovid’s metamorphoses, the greek writers and the roman writers of histories were all felt to be in the public domain, and so shakespeare didn’t feel the need to give attribution.

even if such a case for plagiarizer!shakespeare can be proved, we would have to keep in mind that he lived in a time without copyright and with the very common practice of borrowing from existing stories, to the point where it was actually discouraged to write original characters. stories from greek and roman mythology and history were fair game, and even other playwrights’ plays could be revived and re-adapted again, as hollywood does now. apart from his sources, shakespeare actually quoted and appropriated little; his words are his own, and they’re damn fine ones indeed.

this author trivializes and misunderstands plagiarism to an impossibly ignorant extent, to the point of denying shakespeare and bernstein/sondheim their creative due as artists simply because the plot and story they used are not original to them. west side story is not the same as romeo and juliet, even if it did no more than change the settings and the character names (hell, it even did more than that), and never will be. hell, presgurvic’s roméo et juliette, another musical adaptation which keeps not only the story, but the same characters, and comes even closer to being a straight adaptation of the play than west side story, is still not the same as shakespeare’s play. moreover, shakespeare’s play is completely different from pyramus and thisbe; his source was actually arthur brooke’s poem ‘‘tragedie of romeus and juliet’’ with mostly the same characters and names. even then there are vast, deep differences; you would never, in a million years, confuse the two.

‘‘The Walt Disney Company has drawn an astonishing catalogue from the work of others: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Fantasia, Pinocchio, Dumbo, Bambi, Song of the South, Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, Robin Hood, Peter Pan, Lady and the Tramp, Mulan, Sleeping Beauty, The Sword in the Stone, The Jungle Book, and, alas, Treasure Planet, a legacy of cultural sampling that Shakespeare, or De La Soul, could get behind. Yet Disney’s protectorate of lobbyists has policed the resulting cache of cultural materials as vigilantly as if it were Fort Knox — threatening legal action, for instance, against the artist Dennis Oppenheim for the use of Disney characters in a sculpture, and prohibiting the scholar Holly Crawford from using any Disney-related images — including artwork by Lichtenstein, Warhol, Oldenburg, and others — in her monograph Attached to the Mouse: Disney and Contemporary Art.’’

i’m not a big fan of disney’s lawsuit-happy antics either, buddy, nor of the disney company in general, but they are well within their rights to sue if they see probable cause of plagiarism. their snow white is a particular kind of snow white, their cinderella their own particular cinderella. if another work were to come along with a snow white with short dark hair, a yellow dress, thirteen or fourteen years old, who sings to the tunes of harold arlen or whatever, then disney does have the right to have a finger on their lawyer call lines. you may have a point about copyright being a little too strict, with only instances of satire, parody, or educational purposes protected. but then again, we do have fanfiction that is published with no problem and legal impediment, thousands of them. what more do you want? (an explicit clause protecting transformative works? maybe.)

‘‘Kenneth Koch once said, “I’m a writer who likes to be influenced.” It was a charming confession, and a rare one. For so many artists, the act of creativity is intended as a Napoleonic imposition of one’s uniqueness upon the universe — après moi le déluge of copycats! And for every James Joyce or Woody Guthrie or Martin Luther King Jr., or Walt Disney, who gathered a constellation of voices in his work, there may seem to be some corporation or literary estate eager to stopper the bottle: cultural debts flow in, but they don’t flow out. We might call this tendency “source hypocrisy.” Or we could name it after the most pernicious source hypocrites of all time: Disnial.’’

every writer, without exception, is influenced by the books and authors they read and love. what do you mean, a writer that likes to be influenced??? yeah, of course you have your heroes, your inspiration, your heartloves. of course, writers are proud and happy to talk about other writers and artists that they like and have inspired them. that doesn’t mean an artist should give up the right for their work to be dealt with in their own terms, to be judged on its own merits or demerits, as it were. what is with this conservative obsession with influence???? first harold bloom, and now this. it’s a religious thing, i know, but...just calm down! you may believe angels and demons exist and they are messing with your little head all you want, but don’t expect me to swallow that shit, buddy.

‘‘The power of a gift economy remains difficult for the empiricists of our market culture to understand. In our times, the rhetoric of the market presumes that everything should be and can be appropriately bought, sold, and owned — a tide of alienation lapping daily at the dwindling redoubt of the unalienable. In free-market theory, an intervention to halt propertization is considered “paternalistic,” because it inhibits the free action of the citizen, now reposited as a “potential entrepreneur.” Of course, in the real world, we know that child-rearing, family life, education, socialization, sexuality, political life, and many other basic human activities require insulation from market forces. In fact, paying for many of these things can ruin them. We may be willing to peek at Who Wants to Marry a Multimillionaire or an eBay auction of the ova of fashion models, but only to reassure ourselves that some things are still beneath our standards of dignity.’’

nice try, buddy, but art =/ economics. it’s one thing to detest, as i do, the erosion of social safety nets, the toxicity of laissez-faire economics that demands corporations be not held accountable at all even if they kill people by polluting rivers or making inferior products, and an ideology that insists federal government should butt out of doing what it should very well be doing - protecting the majority of people from the interests of few. we are living in a capitalist hellscape, no doubt about that

but it’s another thing to deny that because all art is derivative (which is itself a fallacy) the artist therefore relinquishes his or her right to profit from that art and not have some unscrupulous individuals claim credit for that. that won’t fly, buddy. you are making what i would call the transference or epistemological fallacy - using the ideas of one episteme or area of knowledge and applying them to another. i’m as socialist as you can be, but cultural marxism is silly and bankrupt and has always been. this is sloppy thinking at best, ideological sabotage at worst.

‘‘Nearly any commons, though, can be encroached upon, partitioned, enclosed. The American commons include tangible assets such as public forests and minerals, intangible wealth such as copyrights and patents, critical infrastructures such as the Internet and government research, and cultural resources such as the broadcast airwaves and public spaces. They include resources we’ve paid for as taxpayers and inherited from previous generations. They’re not just an inventory of marketable assets; they’re social institutions and cultural traditions that define us as Americans and enliven us as human beings. Some invasions of the commons are sanctioned because we can no longer muster a spirited commitment to the public sector. The abuse goes unnoticed because the theft of the commons is seen in glimpses, not in panorama. We may occasionally see a former wetland paved; we may hear about the breakthrough cancer drug that tax dollars helped develop, the rights to which pharmaceutical companies acquired for a song. The larger movement goes too much unremarked. The notion of a commons of cultural materials goes more or less unnamed.”

again, this is material that would be a++ on an economics essay, but it has zero relevancy when it comes to art, which this essay insists on considering as mere cultural product, like shakespeare and tea as examples of britishness™ (never mind that if you ask shakespeare for a cup of tea, he’d ask you what is that). an art work is not quite the same as a cancer drug or public parks and schools. i agree with federal government subsidies and grants towards the arts, because it is a public good, but the key point is that the federal government doesn’t turn art itself into a public, common good; it merely gives money to institutions that in turn helps artists and gives them a financial cushion and support for their art. that doesn’t deny art from the artist and assumes that it belongs to the public without some kind of recompense or credit. all that copyright means is ensuring the artist will be properly repaid for the work and effort he or she has done.

‘‘A few years ago, the Film Society of Lincoln Center announced a retrospective of the works of Dariush Mehrjui, then a fresh enthusiasm of mine. Mehrjui is one of Iran’s finest filmmakers, and the only one whose subject was personal relationships among the upper-middle-class intelligentsia. Needless to say, opportunities to view his films were — and remain — rare indeed. I headed uptown for one, an adaptation of J. D. Salinger’s Franny and Zooey, titled Pari, only to discover at the door of the Walter Reade Theater that the screening had been canceled: its announcement had brought threat of a lawsuit down on the Film Society. True, these were Salinger’s rights under the law. Yet why would he care that some obscure Iranian filmmaker had paid him homage with a meditation on his heroine? Would it have damaged his book or robbed him of some crucial remuneration had the screening been permitted?”

true, douchebaggy moves happen when it comes to copyright. however, i don’t really know the circumstances of salinger’s move. did mehrjui at all stole salinger’s words and phrases or stuck too closely to the original work? was this a straightforward adaptation or was something more original, transformative? i think if it was the former, permission would have to be sought and granted. still, salinger has always been weird when it came to adaptations of his works, and he is more an outlier in this than a true example. most artists are okay with adaptations so long as it honors, in some way, their original work. some give even more freedom to the filmmakers and such, knowing that adaptation into another medium is tricky enough as it is without imposing too-strict rules.

‘‘Contemporary copyright, trademark, and patent law is presently corrupted. The case for perpetual copyright is a denial of the essential gift-aspect of the creative act. Arguments in its favor are as un-American as those for the repeal of the estate tax.”

you know what i dislike most of all? when anyone claims such-and-such is un-american because x, y, and x. why isn’t this shit dead yet? we are country who literally has installed dictators and orchestrated coup d’états in other countries simply to protect corporate interests. we are a country who goes to war for every goddamn thing. we are a country literally founded on genocide. news flash, darling: evil is neither american nor un-american. it is something that exists.

‘‘Artists and writers — and our advocates, our guilds and agents — too often subscribe to implicit claims of originality that do injury to these truths. And we too often, as hucksters and bean counters in the tiny enterprises of our selves, act to spite the gift portion of our privileged roles. People live differently who treat a portion of their wealth as a gift. If we devalue and obscure the gift-economy function of our art practices, we turn our works into nothing more than advertisements for themselves. We may console ourselves that our lust for subsidiary rights in virtual perpetuity is some heroic counter to rapacious corporate interests. But the truth is that with artists pulling on one side and corporations pulling on the other, the loser is the collective public imagination from which we were nourished in the first place, and whose existence as the ultimate repository of our offerings makes the work worth doing in the first place.”

*inhales, puffs cheeks, exhales*

again, for the dozenth time, originality, creativity =/ a work without the slightest shred of outer references, quotes, or is based on something else AND THEREFORE. it is entirely possible to be original even if your work is explicitly based on something else. a young or older person who has never read romeo and juliet can watch west side story or roméo et juliette with no loss in comprehension or enjoyment. they are different works and can be enjoyed separately. generations upon generations have enjoyed the wizard of oz without ever cracking open a page from l. frank baum’s book. yeah! try wrapping that around your pseudo-intellectual head, buddy.

i find it insulting and intellectually bankrupt to equate artists with corporations as if their ends and desires are one and the same. they are not. artists want to be compensated for their work and protect it from being stolen, the whole purpose of copyright; corporations want to make products and sell them by spending as little as possible in order to maximize profits. because corporations get huge enough to actually cause damage to the environment and to people, government is needed to curb these excesses and to regulate them. all j.k. rowling’s done is given the okay for the dubious spin-offs cursed child and fantastic beasts, and though some people (*glares*) would actually equates this to polluting a river, most sane people would understand the difference. rowling trolling with her millions isn’t the problem; businessmen with millions is.

in sum: idiot conservative masquerading as intellectual thinks no art work is original and therefore creativity doesn’t exist and copyright shouldn’t exist and it all belongs to the all-powerful ~culture~ and the artist should just suck it up and deal with people stealing your words and if you think about it for ten seconds it makes ZERO sense and it’s unquestionably bs

#cristina has an opinion #cristina is an english major #preserve me #literature #art

0 notes