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[userjoel]

BEEF | 1.07

[ckret2]

One of my favourite things about the book of Bill has to be how hard it has cemented that, for all the airs Bill likes to put on, he's actually awful at manipulating people. Like if you look at the just the show, on the surface his record isn't bad. 2 1/2 successful manipulations out of 3 shown on-screen is solid. ((That is until you examine it further and realize that the 2 successful ones were done to 12 year old children who 1. Weren't exactly in the best states of mind at the time due to severe sleep deprivation/a difficult emotional state and 2. he still had to trick via his power (the fake timer on the laptop/possessing blendin so Mabel didn't know it was him)) But now? Oh man! Ford wasn't just lucky, he joined a tradition dating back all the way to humanities beginnings! Bill has been trying to get people to do his bidding literally since people had gotten good enough at resource-gathering and tool-usage to be able to potentially build his portal! And he failed over and over and over again and he never learned shit! That would be bad enough but not only did he fail at manipulating several civilzations worth of people, they ALSO constantly thwarted him in ways beyond that! He got himself banished, trapped, and annoyed to hell and back and thats just the stuff he told us! Thats not even speaking of his latest and possibly greatest fumble, failing the convince us, the reader of the Book of Bill who is canonically a fan of Bill or at least Gravity Falls into striking a deal with him. In short, if I asked Bill to manipulate a child into eating ice cream with just his words I wouldn't trust him to get it done within my or the kids life time.

Except, Bill IS good at manipulating people. You JUST DESCRIBED several examples of him being good at manipulating people.

Identifying the most vulnerable targets, the "weakest link" most likely to cave and do what you want—like children (or elderly people with dementia, or immigrants who don't understand the language well)—is part of being good at manipulation.

Identifying and taking advantage of people in a compromised mental state when they're not thinking clearly and are more likely to do what you want is part of being good at manipulation. (He didn't try to persuade Mabel to destroy the laptop, BECAUSE HE KNEW DIPPER WAS MORE VULNERABLE. He didn't approach Dipper or Ford dressed as Blendin—BECAUSE HE KNEW MABEL WAS MORE VULNERABLE.)

Just straight up lying to people—about a situation (the timer), about a person (Blendin)—is a manipulation tactic.

Fabricating a totally artificial emergency and pressuring a target to ACT NOW to prevent disaster is a common con artist trick. (See: scammers who cold call strangers, say they're from the IRS and the stranger is behind on taxes, and demand they transfer a large amount of money from their bank RIGHT NOW or go to jail—WHICH ACTUALLY WORKS A LOT, especially because people CAN'T THINK AS CLEARLY when they're panicking.)

Disguising yourself as somebody trustworthy or somebody intimidating to trick a target into obeying you is also a common con artist trick.

Not to mention ALL the work we see into how he manipulates Ford: he makes note of Ford's social isolation and how Bill can use that to his advantage; he identifies the thing Ford wants most (respect & acknowledgment for his intellectual achievements) and weaves that into his manipulation; he uses both Ford's ego AND Ford's insecurity against him; he almost effortlessly turns Ford against the one friend who adores him, making Ford think his friend's kindest attempts to help are evidence of backstabbing; and even though ultimately it didn't work, you can't say that threatening to destroy Ford's life from inside his own body was a BAD manipulation tactic.

Plus the entire muse schtick. Fooling people into thinking you're doing something magical or supernatural is such a common manipulation tactic that there's a whole name for it: "mystical manipulation." Bill does this NON STOP with Ford, and with many of his other victims.

We see him successfully talk an entire tribe into helping him build a working redwood portal—and they only turned against him when the portal started petrifying people, unleashing monsters, and creating bottomless pits. He talked the Aztecs into sacrificing 9,000 people to build a portal that didn't even work. He talked not-Disney into making a cartoon about Bill that included UNLEASHING LIVE BEES IN THE THEATER. Who the hell would think that's a good idea!

And to top it all off, he formed multiple successful cults that were ride or die for him until the bitter end. That's like the crown jewel of being good at manipulating. Bill talked a whole town into joining his cult in under a month in spite of the fact that he kept calling them plasma bags and chugging formaldehyde. Based on the dates in the document about Silas Birchtree, people were marrying into Ciphertology at least five years after Bill's puppet disintegrated and he ditched them.

Bill was good at manipulating people!

Do you know what Bill WASN'T good at? Getting people to finish and open a portal.

Largely because portals are difficult to make, and because he can only get so far into the process before it becomes obvious that this thing will destroy the world and that's usually enough to override any other threats or promises he makes.

Yeah, he says some stupid things that should obviously give him away—like talking about setting off all the nukes. He's kinda pathetic and a bit of a dumbass sometimes. But, here's the thing about successful manipulators, con artists, and cult leaders: MOST of them are kinda pathetic dumbasses. Cult leaders are idiots. There's a cult leader who preached his followers should be on minimal vegetarian diets, had his chauffeur take him out to a big fancy steak dinner, then told his chauffeur he did that to test his faith—and the chauffeur was like well okay. Cult leaders are idiots, AND YET SUCCEED. When Bill says you can get anyone to hum along with your tune if you've got charisma? He's right—that's true in real life.

Manipulators get away with manipulation not because they tell such brilliant impeccable lies that the most clear-headed rational person in the world would believe them... but because they know to tell their lies to people who aren't clear-headed and rational, and because they know using cheap tricks and false identities and lies that the victim WANTS to be true works better than a flawless story, and because they know most people tend to give other people the benefit of the doubt that what they're saying is probably true.

So yeah, he's too cocky, he's a bit pathetic, he lost a lot, he loses at the end of the book... but that doesn't mean he's a bad manipulator. It means that being good at manipulating can only carry you so far, and Bill didn't have what it takes to carry him the rest of the way.

[theworldoffostering]

This is your friendly political reminder:

1. We have a child who immigrated to the United States. It was difficult to do so, and my guess is those of you referring to people as “illegals,” don’t have a very good understanding of the cost or the process. Additionally, there seems to be a severe lack of compassion and understanding that human beings are human, and we are called to love one another. People are suffering all over the world. Jesus did not call you to “take care of your own.”

2. We have three children in the local school district with IEPs. I’ve spent most of the fall vigorously advocating that they get what they need WITH their IEPs in place. Those of you looking to see the Department of Education dismantled might be lucky enough to not need any of the safeguards that we need in order to ensure that our children can learn. Five of our kids went to HeadStart. One is currently receiving a Pell Grant for college. Please step in alongside me to attend IEP meetings, drive my children to school to receive services (today alone I will do 12 pick up/drop offs at four different schools), or offer private tutoring in the form of specially designed instruction, tutoring, or OT, all of which are needed.

3. Five of our children came to us through adoption. Being anti-abortion while trying to strip away all of the things our kids and family needs in order to stay afloat with our children that are very much alive, but need additional help in various areas (like healthcare and education) is inconsistent at best. Please volunteer to help me out at home. Many people are single issue voters, but are not actually taking kids into their home that survived birth, but don’t have a home in the world. We are managing mental health diagnoses, former police contact (monthly at one point), a prior CPS investigation (now closed), complex medication management, attachment trauma, the inability to spend time together as a couple, and so much community judgement. It’s hurtful. I am an all-in parent, but it’s impossible to do alone.

4. All seven of our kids have utilized state insurance, and currently six of them have it. It sure saved us financially when we had a child that needed to be life flighted to a hospital with a fractured skull and brain bleed. It has also allowed for countless in-patient stays for mental health.

5. Being a foster parent for 16 years has unfortunately provided me with an up close seat to see the impact of sexual abuse on children and teens, some of whom are now adults. Sexual assault is never okay. Being willing to overlook sexual assault as a means to justify the end, is also not okay. Ever.

Policies have real impact on real people. This fall has been one of the hardest yet for me as I work to meet everyone’s needs both personally and professionally. Our family is already isolated as is often the case when trying to walk through life against the grain. Last fall a local family (a mom in her 40s) told one of our older daughters that their entire church here in town hated me, and that I needed professional help. (You may report back that I do have a therapist because anyone processing this much secondary trauma over 15 years needs one.) This is awfully difficult stuff to endure in a small town both as an adult, and a child, and yet endure we must, because there is no other choice.

Hate breeds hate. Please choose differently. We are just trying to survive in our small corner of the world here. It’s already incredibly challenging, and would be less so by having people to circle around us to support us, love us, and encourage us. At the end of the day, isn’t that what most people need?

[africanrefugeeswelcome]

Many boring Germans judge German women who go to African clubs, and jealous when they see them twerking in front of an African immigrant, they say that they don't give themselves enough respect. I think the opposite, these women have evolved to the point of accepting the sexual desire that was dormant in their bodies, the sexual flame that lives in each of their bodies must always be lit and ready for new adventures, deny or try to retract their desires. purely biological sexual relations through invented rules, that is not giving yourself due respect, not respecting your own body, not respecting yourself as a woman, as a human being. These women finally understand that they are not criminals for wanting to kiss, sexualize, shake their ass in front of their man, and that this in no way prevents them from forming a family and taking care of it with all the love and affection. So while Germans try to dictate rules as if they still lived under a Nazi regime, these women will have fun with men who let them be women, they know that they are sexy, that they are desired and that there is a fire in each of them, and when they find a place where they can show all this without being treated like criminals, they are enchanted and in love.

You may say that black men are beautiful, yes, I agree! But I think their main asset is culture, dance, lightness, joy, and all of this combined turns into a feeling of freedom, of pleasure, when a woman feels free, her most primitive desires are brought out to outside, and after reaching this state of mind, it is difficult to accept going back to being that inhibited, depressed woman, subservient to the rules invented by people with a Nazi mentality who will never understand how powerful and full of personality these women are. Many of my friends have told me that they love who they are when they are around black men, it's like a feeling of transforming into another person, a more powerful, freer, more uninhibited person, and when you experience this for the first time you don't want to But stop feeling this way, it is an addictive feeling, which turns into sexual attraction towards that particular racial group that makes them feel this way. Congratulations to them, they realized well before us white men what women really wanted but couldn't express in words, that's why these women don't want to get back into relationships with white men, because unfortunately the white man's class is very associated with dictated rules and living as if you were a robot. The man in the photos likes to go to African clubs in Germany, it was in these clubs where he met his two ex-wives of which he has 3 mixed children, a daughter with the first, and 2 sons with the second, his third and current wife is woman who appears in the photos next to him, he made 1 more mixed baby with her, totaling 4 in total, in the past, she started working in an African club near Frankfurt, and the rest you can already imagine.

[randomnoteforfuturereference]

Oh. Oh my...

Like, I already had my suspicions when Bushnell's last words involved using the term "colonial". But... this... this is so much worse.

Worse was his insinuation that that there's no such thing as an Israeli civilian (which includes Arabs navigating their own issues in the country) and blatant statement that there's no such thing as an innocent in Israel (including children who legally don't have agency; not to mention laborers). What's galling about it is that it's exactly the same kind rhetoric that is used against Palestinian civilians due to the irregular nature of Hamas; ie "there's no way to be safe around a Palestinian".

Also, setting aside the whole subject of indigeny in the Levant, the fact that he focused on "early days of colonization" for the US is an easy out for Americans today. Because it's not like indigenous folks still aren't here and still aren't subject to deprivation. Many times with disparities that are much closer than 3 miles. I don't see him excusing the idea of nonindigenous Americans being killed off en masse today. Nor did his final words fully disavow his decision as *a whole* (as opposed to just because we back (((them)))) to voluntarily enlist to be the arm of a colonial state by his definition; him potentially being generations here didn't change that.

That last point also goes to another dangerous precedent concerning nativism. Especially when you consider the perception of many recent immigrant groups (specifically from Asia, Africa, and the ME) as privileged compared to long standing communities, as well as the friction that has caused (including that of displacement and discrimination).

Oh and it goes without saying that being coherent and lucid doesn't mean good mental health. I mean, he very well could have been, but the point is that we need to not gloss over how severe of an act suicide is.

[selkies-world]

Me, in the UK, preparing to watch the USA get turned into a fully fledged Christian ethnostate thanks to the fact they willingly voted a Christian Nationalist into power:

Meanwhile, USAmericans:

Here's what's going to happen, now that the orange bastard is on America's throne.

First, it'll be trans people & immigrants that will get the brunt of it. They'll be treated worse than they have this century.

Then it'll be BIPOC and disabled people. It'll be the women & girls who get it the worst, out of these groups.

Then it'll be the gays, and marriage will be returned to the state, Roe & Wade style.

Then it'll be women.

Along the way, they'll also be taking money and funding out of education and the workforce, and putting it into the military, weapons, tech for the pet elongated muskrat, and the church. Funding for climate and science and medicine will be taken away and relocated.

Your weather reports will be privatised, and if you pay to be able to view them, they will give you false information, and will intentionally fail to mention climate change. You will not know when a wildfire is predicted, or a flood, or a hurricane. Likewise, you will not know when those events happen in other states. You will not know what the weather is like in the rest of the world because the news will be heavily censored and filtered.

You will also lose porn. All LGBTQIA+ content, including shows and resources and books, will be classified as pornography, and banned. You will lose the general Internet, and anonymity, and privacy. Spyware will be mandatory on your devices. Anyone caught looking at banned material will be prosecuted, and labeled as a monster - someone looking at gay porn, or reading gay fanfic, or reading up on safe gay sex, will be branded as a pedophile or a sexual deviant.

You will also find that sex ed is removed from schools. Even anatomy & biology classes will be different. You can't miss something if you're never taught it in the first place, surely. Teen pregnancies will increase, as birth control becomes illegal, and pregnancy complications, child deaths, miscarriages and teen parents will be very commonplace. Sexual diseases will also become more prevalent as the medication for them will become scarce; PReP will be next to impossible to access, so a small AIDS epidemic will resurface. Antibiotics and vaccines will become rarer and rarer.

All porn will be deigned as a threat to children, and kink safespaces for adults will be hunted and shut down as being a threat to society. Gay clubs, too. Pride will be canceled, as will pride clubs in schools and colleges. Funding for therapy & mental health resources will dry up.

Families will be torn up, children will be tortured and abused, and adults will be forced to go along with it, face the same treatment, enact the abuse, or go to jail for child abuse because they tried to help their child. Gay adoptions will stop, as will family support for families with gay children.

Meanwhile, the UK will be in a political war with the USA. Palestinians will be bombed more, and so will most countries in the middle East. Egypt will become a target, and a few other parts of Africa. Russia and Ukraine will continue to attack each other, but Russia will be watching the USA and UK. So will North Korea and China.

None of you will be told if there's another pandemic. None of you will be told if there are millions or hundreds of millions of deaths. None of you will be told about loved ones in danger in other countries or states. None of you will be told the truth about anything.

Congratulations, America. You've built your walls high, and fortified your country. But you haven't just shut the rest of the world out; you've shut yourselves in.

If you don't believe me, save this post and come back to it 1 year from now. 2 years. 3 years. 4. Take a screenshot of it. And let's see which of us is right.

[vahlee]

PROJECT 2025 is a massive plan assembled by The Heritage Foundation, which seeks to forcefully install Christianity as the national religion and revert America to the pre-Civil Rights Era of racism and sexism. Women will not be allowed to have abortions, divorce their husbands, or work. Children will lose access to s*ex education, which helps them realize if they're being abused. And LGBTQ people, no matter who, will be classified as "p*orn*ography" and thrown in prison, including trans people and anyone on the right who is queer. Librarians who "distribute" "p*orn" or any parents who have and support queer kids will be forced to register as "s*X offenders".

If anybody tries to spout the "principles of P25", say

I'll tell you what it's really about.

1 — "Family" in this context means only "white, straight" families where the mom stays at home and the dad runs everything and controls the wife. No LGBTQ people are included in this.

2 — The "administrative state" has hundreds of thousands of employees who work to run the country behind the scenes, like election counters. The CDC, EPA and the FBI will be dismantled. Without them, rich donors with no expertise would rule everything, creating chaos.

3 — The borders are not a threat to us right now. Immigrants commit less crime than Americans and all the drugs the right say are being smuggled through the border are being smuggled by AMERICANS.

4 — Christianity is not a religion everybody here follows. What about people who either are Hindu or Muslim or atheist? Where are their rights to not be forced into religion?

Project 25 does not need Trump to be passed, only a Republican. And Republican Presidents have been passing parts of the Mandate for Leadership since 1983, starting with a Ronald Reagan. Trump claims to not know what it is, but he signed 60 percent of the 2018 Mandate for Leadership into law during his first year in office.

President Biden's mental health is in decline and he is no longer fit to be President, but we don't have a choice between him and Trump.

Project 2025 will revert America to a dystopia where everyone does as they're told. If you can't see how bad this is, you're blind.

@tohjwcc @i-am-socially-anxious-lol @wolfheartsstuff @rianekochou Please spread this as far as you can, my platform is not big enough to share as far as you can.

[pptinfantry]

Here's a few rules for the first time leftist gun owners:

1.Firearms are a tool. Take care of your tools, and they will take care of you.

2.Keep your ammo and your weapon separate, preferably with one or the other locked up. This goes double if you live with children or people with mental health problems.

3.When you do shoot, make sure that you know exactly what is behind your target. Do not aim a weapon at anything you do not want to remove from this Earth.

4.Build community. Join your local John Brown Gun Club, Armed Equality, Pink Pistols, socialist polycule with a girl or two whose super into gun safety/usage.

5.You can keep your ammunition in ammo cans you can get from milsurp stores or online. Put a desiccating packet in there to keep moisture out. With modern magazines, you can keep ammo loaded in indefinitely. Older magazines might get spring tension problems.

6.Weapon cleaning mats are super useful, especially if they have mechanical breakdowns. These are popular for AR builds.

7.Exercise how and when you can, but try to keep it regimented. Some fascists like to work out, but they rarely like cardio, arguably the most important battlefield focus.

8.A long gun will always be superior to a pistol for accuracy, stopping power, and stability. Shotgun, rifle, or carbine platforms. ARs are modular and reliable, AKs are rugged and have cheap ammo. Shotguns are solid workhorses overall, and can be loaded with buck shot or slugs. Birdshot is for birds.

9.Ceramic plates. Lighter and more rugged than steel plates, without the spalling problem. Steel is fine for training, unsat for actual deployment. Half the weight and twice the protection. Aim for Level III or IV, with IV being a preference.

10.Stay safe. The world is scary now, especially for our LGBTQ+, women, racial minority, and immigrant friends. It's incumbent on all of us to help each other.

My message box is open if you have any questions.

[sanityshorror]

hello <3

how are you ? hope good...

i want more to knoe about emily ....her family, frinds anf menhtal issus

bye and good day, night or whatever

teddy <3

Emily grew up in a very traditional but also very loving working class family, she's a few months older than Julius. She first met Julius when they were children at church, however they'd never spoken prior to Julius approaching her when they were both 16. I cannot stress enough that Emily was fully unaware Julius was gay and she never took any advantage of him; Julius was in reality the one who was abusive and just using her.

Emily left her family behind to immigrate to America with Julius in spring of 1893, shortly after marriage. She didn't really have any mental health issues prior until the fall of 1893 (slightly under a year into her marriage to Julius). The abuse from Julius started after their first child was born. To say Emily was confused was an understatement, Julius was always so loving and sweet ... she'd never even considered it a possibility it was nothing more than a mask.

As time went on, Julius would continue to become increasingly violent and abusive towards her. She convinced herself it was just due to the drinking and drugs Julius was using, and all the stress from working so much. She understandably fell into a deep depression and began drinking as well as a way to cope.

Her drinking and depression got a lot worse after Claire, her best friend (and Killian's wife at the time) died during childbirth. Emily was completely alone. She tried to spend time with Annabella, her sister in law, but she couldn't talk to Annabella honestly about the relationship the way she did with Claire. She became extremely isolated.

She eventually died roughly a decade after Julius did, and by that point, she was utterly non functional, had caused the four children irreversible damage, and was beyond redemption. Octavian was 15 when he snapped and decided to simply make the issue of her "go away." (He killed her).

[rickgrimesdoingrickthings]

ಠoಠ

A headcanon about a pet peeve for Rick- something he really hates and will test his patience.

When people say or act prejudice based.

It's not because Rick is some random moralist. In my opinion, there are many reasons why it annoys him so much when people act racist or sexist etc. 1) First thing is- to act based on prejudice is stupid- Rick is very intelligent and stupid people annoy him, specially people who are willing to use prejudice to act superior than others. Prejudice is based on shallow, superficial ideas, puts everyone in the same bag and is strongly influenced by bias- to Rick, that's the most stupid way of thinking. People who say "all men are like this" or "all women are like that" are basically putting 50% of the world population in the same bag without considering each person's peculiarities. Judging without knowing is stupid to him, who acts mostly based on logic and rationing. 2) Second thing- he's sensible and smart enough to know people are way more than race, gender, etc. and are not defined by that. So when someone uses prejudice to erase others, Rick interprets that as injustice, and guess what, Rick hates injustice.

3) Third thing is personal- he has suffered because of prejudice- Rick is far from the concept of what sexist traditional people expect and construct as what "a man should be like". Of course you can't even compare the struggles Rick faces for not being the "ideal male stereotype" with what minorities go through- in fact, black people, LGBT+, women and immigrants go through a lot worse on a daily basis (Rick considers that injustice, considering the previous topic). The point I'm trying to make is- Rick doesn't fit in what most of a sexist society expects a man to be like. He is sensible, emotional, he is not aggressive, he likes art, he's shy, he hates conflict, he is not muscular, he is not big, he doesn't like imposing his opinions, he doesn't like being the center of all attention, he doesn't like to show strength and authority all the time, he is not a womanizer, he doesn't like drinking, he doesn't like going out with friends to bars etc, he likes to read, he likes to draw, he likes to take care of his kids, he is not a controller, he likes to cake care of his appearance, he likes to look good, he doesn't like flirting with strangers or being flirted by strangers. Rick has so many traits that sexist people would disapprove. He probably already got bullied a lot because of who he really is like and maybe it's one of the main reasons he is so reserved about his tastes, about the novels he likes to read and even about the sweets and snacks he enjoys. He hates to see people emulating actions based on prejudice- shallow values that hurt others, without critique, without empathy.

4) Fourth thing- Prejudice thinking / acting is bad to the world.

Rick is aware of the oppression people go through. He thinks racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia etc. just bring more pain to the world. That causes more hate, more crimes, more chaos, more suffering, more wars, more mental health problems and diseases, more conflicts and more unhappiness. Prejudices are rocks in the road to the ideal happy world Rick wish that existed. He thinks such things harm human society as whole, he doesn't want that. As a cop, Rick already experienced so much disgrace and violence, many caused by prejudice and it's direct and indirect effects.

5) Fifth thing- Prejudice limits people. It's quite simple: many men could have been great artists, happy with their art, but weren't because they got laughed at, for art wasn't something "manly". Many women could have survived aggressors if they had been taught to defend themselves instead of being labeled as "fragile". Rick has a very practical blunt view of people- he always tries to see the individuals, not the labels. He wants to be free to be a loving father who is present to take care and play with his children- he wants to be free to teach his daughter to fight and be strong- he doesn't want prejudices in the way, he doesn't want people to bother him because of prejudices they carry. He doesn't want his group being weak because the survivors are having their potentials limited. He's very practical, he doesn't want people feeling superior trying to force other people to live in any specific way against their will- to him, as long as people respect the laws so society can be peaceful, people should be free.

@wexarethewalkingxdead

[samasmith23]

Viewing Kamala Khan as a mutant through a queer lens

I’ve gotta say, after having read Issue #3 of Iman Vellani’s Ms. Marvel: The New Mutant miniseries yesterday, one of the elements that I’ve really grown to love about this book is how well it functions as a metaphorical coming out narrative for Kamala Khan! In addition to the previous issues showcasing Kamala struggling with the newfound pressures that being a mutant comes with, especially during a time when anti-mutant bigotry is at record levels following Orchis’ genocidal attack on Krakoa, during this issue’s dream sequence we’re introduced to the idea that Kamala’s hesitancy to accept her newfound identity as a mutant and inability to access her new powers is all due to a mental roadblock inside of Kamala’s own psyche. However, when the villains try to force Kamala to accept her mutant powers before she is ready by invading her dreams (as part of a Trojan horse to activate a psychic bomb against other mutants), Kamala refuses her “dream-self’s” offer upon realizing that only she alone can decide when she’s ready to define who she is, countering Orchis false anti-mutant narratives and defining her solely by her latent powers by proudly proclaiming, “It’s not about the powers. It never was. It’s about the why we fight. The who we fight for. My powers don’t define me! They aren’t the testament to who I am, in here! I was afraid that being a mutant meant that I was no longer anything else. But that doesn’t erase any other part of me. It just makes me more… me. Who I am — that’s up to me to decide.”

Kamala’s story has always been one about identity, self-acceptance, and intersectionality. This has been evident since her initial run by G. Willow Wilson & Sana Amanat, where Kamala was at a crossroads in regards to figuring out who she was as Pakistani-American Muslim from an immigrant family who had just obtained Inhuman powers, eventually deciding to embrace the best aspects of each part of her respective identities.

Discovering that she now also happens to be a mutant doesn’t erase those previous aspects of who Kamala is, but simply adds to them. Additionally, several X-Men stories in the past have framed the mutant allegory through a queer lens, and there’s a lot you can read into Kamala’s journey of self-acceptance as a mutant in regards to both queer theory and intersectionality. I’ve mentioned before how the recent spike in anti-mutant bigotry amongst the general public following Orchis’ attack on Krakoa Island bears a lot of real-world parallels to the recent upsurge in homophobic and transphobic legislation by Republican politicians here in the US, and Ms. Marvel: The New Mutant #3 further expands these parallels. Similar to how Queer people of color are the groups most severely affected by homophobic and transphobic legislation, Vellani effectively demonstrates how Orchis anti-mutant hate campaign significantly impacts Kamala as a woman of color who just found out that she’s also a latent mutant. Orchis’ attempt to try and play on Kamala’s fears of being rejected by her non-mutant superhero friends while framing mutants as inherently arrogant beings with god-complexes, feels eerily similar to how Republicans have recently tried to push false “groomer” conspiracy narratives in order to frame LGBTQ+ people as inherently “predatory towards children,” further isolating an already vulnerable community by falsely defining them solely through the lens of sex. But similar to how sex & sexuality does NOT entirely define a gay or trans person’s identity as an individual, mutant powers do NOT solely define the sum of Kamala’s identity either. It may be an important aspect of who she is as a person, but it is NOT representative of the whole of her identity. Just like how being a Muslim from an immigrant family is an important facet of her personhood, but it is not the sum total of her personality. People are more complex than the narrow-minded stereotypes that bigots like to falsely project onto them, and Kamal effectively demonstrates this by accepting her newfound status as a mutant as merely another facet of personhood. She’s a mutant, as well as an Inhuman, a Muslim, a woman of color, second-generation Pakistani immigrant, nerdy fan-fiction writer, and a compassionate human being who simply wants to help others in need!

From Ms. Marvel: The New Mutant #3 by Iman Vellani, Sabir Pirzada, Carlos Gómez & Adam Gorham.

[writerunblocked]

Bullet Proof Heart: I. The Agreement

Synopsis: After her idiot older brother, a man notoriously bad a counting, accidentally short-changes the Peaky Blinders for who their father pays for protection, Anya Rosenthal finds herself engaged to the much older and the most powerful man in Birmingham. The leader of the gang The Peaky Blinders and her now former employer, Thomas Shelby.

Trope: Arranged marriage trop. I know it's old, but I like it.

TW: Death and dying, antisemitism, drinking, drunkness, and smoking, swearing

WC: 3560

Read Part 2, Out of the Bag, here. Read Part 3: Acceptance here

It was a bleak late August morning in Birmingham, England. The people went about their business, dogs barked, and she could hear children laughing outside. Nothing about this morning could predict the day Anya Rosenthal would have. 

Waking up, getting dressed, and running into the kitchen to greet her mother who had been up for hours, the 22-year-old was greeted by her mother mopping the floors and muttering things in Yiddish under her breath. Looking at her mother’s blotchy face and red eyes, she looked like she’d been crying. She walked over to where her mum kept the liquor, grabbed the bottle of Jameson, walked over to the tea and poured her mother a glass with more Jameson than tea. Placing it down on the table, she walked over to her mother who was muttering in Yiddish ‘no good piece of shit. Marrying her off without my knowledge. I thought he loved her. To him!’ 

“Mame, vas geyt far?” Anya asked. (Mum, what’s going on?) 

Anya's blue eyes met her mother’s blue ones. And Anya could see herself in her mother. The two were practically identical. Both had curly blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that caught the attention of everyone. Anya was said to be the most beautiful woman in all of Birmingham. Except her family was dirt poor. Her father had been hurt during the war and the family of eight had fallen upon hard times. Her brothers had taken up jobs running for gangs while her father had started growing Cannabis, something that was still taking off. 

Her mother stopped mopping and walked over to where the tea cup was. Anya followed. “Antshuldigt mir, Anya,” she whispered while taking a drink of the tea. Anya knew it was extra strong with no milk, just how her mother, and also Anya, liked it.  “Bite visn az ikh keynmol gevalt dos far ir.” (I’m so sorry, Anya. Please know that I never wanted this for you.) 

Anya was now terrified of her mother’s own words. In her 22 years on God’s Earth, she had never seen her mother cry. Her own mother, who’d raised six kids while her husbands and three oldest sons were off at war and raised Anya and her older brother Isaac while simultaneously running the family pot business. Many soldiers would flock to it after they came home from the war, her three oldest brothers and father included. 

But her father was sick, they couldn’t afford to take him to a doctor, and he didn’t have much longer left to live. He struggled to breathe and he struggled to walk. With every laboured breath, the Rosenthal family knew that their father was close to death. Her oldest brother Abraham, better known as ‘Abe’, would take over the business. 

“Vas tut zikh?” Anya asked her mother. (What’s going on.) 

But her mother couldn’t even look her in the eyes. All she kept on saying was ‘sorry’ in Yiddish over and over and over again. She was worried her mother was on the verge of a mental breakdown and she’d have to be whisked away. She was hysterical and that terrified Naomi. Her mother had led the charge for their immigration from Krakow, Poland, to Birmingham, England fleeing the Pograms. Anya was only a little girl but she could remember their neighbours being murdered by the townspeople. They’d packed up and fled to England, the only country that was willing to take them. Her father and brothers would then sign up to fight for the Crown, not knowing if they would come back alive. They all did, but no one knew how or why. They were in the Somme and worked as tunnelers. 

“ANYA!” her father roared. “ANYA ROSENTHAL GET IN HERE!” 

With her mother’s silent sob, she got up and walked to her father’s office. She wondered who was behind the door as she smelt the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and her father only smoked cigarettes when he was meeting with someone. As she opened the door to her father’s office she saw the man sitting at the desk with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of whisky in the other. But on the other side of the desk with his back toward the door was a man with a partially shaved head and a familiar cap that she saw every day at work. She nearly wanted to scream, for Anya recognised the man, it was Thomas Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders. No wonder why her mum was crying. No wonder why she was inconsolable. This man wanted her for something. And she hoped it wasn’t about last night at the Garrison, where Anya worked as a barmaid. 

“Anya, you’re here,” Mr Shelby said, turning around to greet her. His electric-blue eyes looking into hers. She felt weak in the knees. “I’m glad you could make it.” 

“Is everything alright, Mr Shelby?” Anya asked tentatively, taking the only empty seat which was beside him. “Look, about last night, I didn’t know that Connor would try something like that—”  

Mr Shelby cut her off. “What happened with Connor?” 

Fuck. Anya thought. Fuck me in the ass and call me a bitch. “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all.” 

“We’ll talk about it later,” Mr Shelby said. “We have other things to discuss.” 

“A raise?” Anya asked hopefully. “Controlling the creepy men? Finding my sanity?” 

“Enough, Anya!” Her father grumbled though he did seem amused with his daughter’s antics. His warm and mischievous smile that he'd given to all six of his children coming through.

“You’re my new fiancée,” Mr Shelby said. “Your father and I made a deal. He got caught up in something and you are unfortunately caught in the middle.” 

And though Mr Shelby seemed saddened by the fact she’d gotten caught up in their business. Anya didn’t know what to do. It felt like everything was falling to pieces around her and all she could do was watch it happen helplessly. Anya had no intention of getting married in the first place and was happily content with being the crazy single Auntie at every Seder who gave sweets to her niece and nephew. She wanted to travel, have fun, and go out. The last thing on her mind was marriage. Anya was pulled out of her thoughts by her mother’s violent sobs from the kitchen. Anya hated how powerless she felt with the whole ordeal. Her youngest getting married, her little girl growing up, and starting a family of her own. People usually married for love, but Anya wasn’t given that choice. 

Anya felt numb, completely and utterly numb. As the world crumbled around her, she wondered if it was possible to melt into the chair. Not even her mother’s sobs could pull her out of this. Sure, she and Mr Shelby did know each other, intimately as they had started sleeping together recently, she didn’t love Mr Shelby. 

Tears staining her blue eyes, she didn’t move, she didn’t say anything. As her world crumbled around her, she wondered if she could turn invisible. She wanted to strangle her father. And Mr Shelby as well. Her father passed her some vodka and she drank from it. “Who’s idea was this?” She whispered. “And what did you do, Dad?” 

“A deal gone wrong,” he sighed. 

“My idea,” Mr Shelby announced. 

Anya rolled her eyes and glared at Mr Shelby, probably a death sentence to anyone else. “Don’t you see enough of me?” She asked. “I’m on your payroll.” 

Before Shelby could respond, Abe barged into the room and nearly lunged at their father. The pure rage that could be seen in his brown eyes was something that startled Anya. “SHE’S NOT A PIECE OF MEAT!” He roared. “SHE’S NOT YOURS TO MARRY OFF!” 

“I’M SECURING HER FUTURE!” Her father roared. “I’LL BE DEAD IN THREE MONTHS!” 

The entire house went cold. Everyone looked at him in shock. “What?” asked Abe. The atmosphere in the house turned cold as everyone processed their father’s statement. 

“When did you find out, David?” asked Mr Shelby. 

“Last month,” he sighed. “I found out last month.” 

Everyone knew that David Rosenthal would die and that he was on borrowed time. They didn’t realise it would be this soon. Her father had been going downhill lately, he struggled going up the stairs, he struggled to breathe, he struggled to even move. Her mother walked in, her eyes stained, her face puffy as she looked at her husband. Anya knew her parents had known each other for their entire lives. They grew up next to each other in Poland, they met the day her mother was born. They got married young and moved to England together with their family fleeing the Pogroms in Poland. She wondered how her mother would handle the death of the man she had no memories of without. Abe would become the head of the family and life would go on like nothing had happened. 

“I have a condition to the marriage,” Anya gulped. All eyes turned her, her mother gasped another sob. “I’ll go through with it if and only if you take care of my mum for the remainder of her life. And my nieces and nephews are put through school.”

Mr Shelby nodded. “That can be arranged,” he said. 

“And I want that in writing,” she stated. “If not, there’s no deal.” 

"Anya,” whimpered Abe. “You don’t have to do this.” 

Her mother was sobbing violently now, but she’d been crying for so long that no tears had come out. Anya could also see that her mother’s violent sobbing was getting on Mr Shelby’s nerves.  

Mr Shelby got up and looked at her.  “You’re no longer an employee of Shelby Co because you’re my fiancée.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll pick you up later tonight, Anya.” 

Anya nodded her head, barely being able to look at her now fiancée. “See you later tonight, Mr Shelby.”  

“You’re my fiancée now, there’s no need to call me Mr Shelby,” he said. 

“You later, then, Tommy,” Anya responded in a shaky voice. He walked out of the house. 

Anya got up and also walked out of the house. Grabbing her purse, she walked down the street and made her way to the nearest pub where she took a seat and took a drink. The bartender saw her and laughed. He had a moustache and a darker complexion similar to Abe’s and wore a Star of David, he looked over at her and smiled, “Hi, Naomi, what brings the most beautiful girl in town back?” 

Anya rolled her eyes and scoffed at the comment. The bartender and owner, Sam Lebowitz, had always been a flatter, but he had no interest in her. And when the news got out, no one would dare touch her for fear of the Shelbys.  Sam had been a friend of her dad’s for years and she considered the man an uncle figure in her life. “A pick me up,” Anya admitted. She needed it after the day she had. 

He walked over to her with a shot of Irish whiskey and vodka. He handed them to her. “How’s your dad?” 

She took a deep breath and gulped. “Three months,” she whispered. “It’s getting to him.” 

She could see the horror in Sam’s eyes when he heard that. Sam had been her family’s first friend since they emigrated and also served in WWI. As tears threatened to spill from his chocolate brown eyes, he brushed a piece of black curly hair away from his face. “Are you guys planning on sitting Shiva?” He asked her. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “That’s a thing to ask my mum, she’s been a wreck all day. She’s been sobbing on and off. The poor woman can’t even cry anymore.” 

The atmosphere between the two people turned melancholic. Sam kept on filling her glass and she kept on knocking them back one by one. She didn’t care that she was losing track of time. She just wanted to forget this horrible day. She’d found out that she’d be married off like royalty, she found out her father was going to die in the coming months, and her life would consist of her looking over her shoulder because of who her inlaws were. 

She thought of herself looking out of Arrow House in Warwickshire, being arm candy to Tommy, being at his beck and call. She wiped her eyes from the tears that continued to spill as the alcohol flowed. The whiskey and vodka started tasting like water, but she just continued to drink and drink and drink. She didn’t care. 

The pub turned quiet but she downed another glass. “Another, Sam,” she slurred. “I need another.” 

“That’s all for you for tonight,” he said. “You’ve had more than enough, Anya.” 

“My dad’s dying!” She slurred. 

“And you’ve still had enough. Just because you’re immune to hangovers—” he stopped and then looked straight behind Anya. “Mr Shelby, is everything alright? I paid you yesterday.” 

FUCK. Anya thought. Of course this pub’s under the Blinder’s protection. 

“I just need to speak to Anya for a moment,” Thomas Shelby said grabbing me. 

“Leave the girl alone, Mr Shelby. She’s had a rough day. Her dad’s dying,” he said. 

“I'm only here to help,” he said. “Come on, love, Abe’s worried about you. Your mum’s a wreck. It’s past sundown.” 

“It’s not Friday,” she grumbled. “Ikh viln vodka! SAM, PASS ME THE BOTTLE!” She hollered reaching for the bottle of vodka.

Sam looked at Shelby and then Anya who was looking hungrily at the bottle like it was her mother’s latkes with applesauce. Sam looked at Shelby, then back to Anya, then back to Shelby once again. With one arm on her, Shelby pulled out a tenner and put on the counter, “Here’s for her tab for your best vodka.”  

Her ears perked up as she heard vodka. She reached for the vodka while trying to squirm her way out of Shelby’s arm, but his grip was tight. “I’ll get her home, Mr Shelby,” Sam said pushing the tenner back. “She’ll be safe with me. I’m her uncle and I need to go talk to Chaya.” 

“I can do it, Sam,” Shelby assured with a glance to Anya who was now looking at Sam with a guilty expression.

The two men stared each other down. Sam had to be the bravest man in all of Birmingham or the dumbest. All Anya knew was that this could end badly if she didn’t say something. She was going to lose her father, she couldn’t lose Sam too. “I’m her uncle,” he said. “I’ve known her since she was born, I will take care of her until the morning,” Sam stated again. 

“I can take care of my own fiancée, Sam,” Shelby said. “The engagement was today.” 

The look on Sam’s face was one of pure horror like he’d just gotten the worst news in his life. The horror in his brown eyes, the hurt, the betrayal. “Let me speak to you in your office,” Shelby responded. 

Reluctantly Sam went, and Anya and Shelby followed. Looking around the dark wooden room, the air smelt like stale cigarette smoke and booze, but there was no laughing, no talking, no dancing. Everyone except the three of them that is. 

They followed Sam into his office filled with photos of Anya and her five brothers throughout different life stages. Photos of Sam and her father when they were growing up. And photos of her mother smiling and laughing. The black and white photographs would never be able to capture her mother’s beauty. The beauty that Anya had inherited. The desk was filled with papers and weights, a typewriter sat in the back of the room, and a leather chair where Sam sat. 

Anya was laid on the couch by Shelby, who grabbed a blanket, pillow, and trash for her. “Get some rest, love,” Shelby said. 

“You’re not my mum!” She snarled. The urge to throw up came over her and she puked her guts into the trashcan. She felt sober now. Sam passed her a towel and she whipped her face, he then passed her some water and she drank. She nodded and got up. “I’d prefer to stay with Sam, Mr Shelby. If you don’t mind.”

“Your parents are worried sick,” Shelby stated. “And don’t call me—” 

She cut him off. “Then maybe my father should have thought of that before he sold me to you like I’m royalty. Yes, he’s sick, yes, he’s dying, but I’m still pissed at him for giving my life to you!” 

“I’ll take good care of her, Sam,” he said. “I can provide for her and I’ll be setting aside money for Gal and Noam that will take care of them for the rest of their lives. Chaya will be taken care of after ” 

“Is that what you said when you showed up to David’s place on Tuesday night?” He snarled. “He told me about your meeting. He was so horrified that he couldn’t even speak on the phone. I had to go over there. You’re taking advantage of a dying man, Thomas Shelby.” 

“Sam,” Anya pleaded. “Sam, please. I need you here, I’m losing my dad, I can’t lose my uncle.”  

“I’m not going to do anything to him, Anya,” he assured her. “What do you want with the Rosenthals?” He asked. “It can’t be because Abe saved your life in the trenches.” 

Anya perked up. That was news to her. She knew Shelby was a war hero and so was Abe. Anya knew that her brothers and the Shelby brothers served together, but she didn’t know Abe saved his life. She was young when they’d gone off to war but she remembered it being just her and her mother while the men were off. She remembered her mother praying every night that her boys would return home. God must’ve said ‘yes’ and her brothers and father returned home. She’d been at the ceremony when she was eleven seeing her brother get handed the medal. But he told her that it meant nothing to him, most of his friends hadn’t come back, and he was still haunted by what he’d seen in the Somme and Verdun. She knew Shelby felt the same way about it as well. She knew he did opium to forget in his past. He’d bought it from her father after all. 

“Don’t take advantage of them, Mr Shelby,” he said. “I was already terrified when I found out she was working in your brother’s pub.”  

“I have no interest in hurting her,” he said. “I can provide for her. I know you have money set aside for all of them in the case of your death, but that won’t amount to much. I can provide for her.” 

“How do you know that?” Sam asked shocked. 

“Because I know all the information on everyone who pays for protection from the Peaky Blinders,” he stated. “I know that you care for her, but I can provide for her.” 

“Is that what that Gypsy tongue of yours used on her ailing father?” he asked.

“He’s worried that she’s getting too wild and is in needing of marrying off,” Shelby responded. “Better me than someone else.” 

“The most I do is get drunk,” she sighed. “I don’t go crazy, I don’t do coke.” 

“You once went through half my vodka supply,” Sam said. 

“I haven’t—” 

“That was last week,” he said cutting her off. He turned to Shelby, his eyes now also filled with fear. This was his niece after all. “She’s out of control and you think you’re the one to pull her back?” 

“I’M A HUMAN BEING!” Anya roared tears staining her eyes. Sam passed her another glass of water. “I’m a human being. I’m not to be brought, I’m not a prize to be won, I’m not a piece of land. I’m a human being. A human!” 

Shelby led her back to the couch and put his hand in hers. “You are human, love,” Shelby said. “No one’s saying that!” 

 She jumped up and Shelby got up with her. “THE REST OF MY LIFE WAS SIGNED AWAY!” She hollered. “SIGNED AWAY TO YOU! RIGHT NOW, I’M THE PROPERTY OF MY FATHER, AFTER THE MARRIAGE, I’M YOUR PROPERTY. MY LAST NAME CHANGED, EVERYTHING ABOUT THE ROSENTHALS ERRASED AS I’M JUST KNOWN AS THOMAS SHELBY’S WIFE!” She pushed Shelby away. “Does anybody ever stop to think about me when they’re throwing my life to the wolves?” 

Shelby looked at her and sighed. “I understand where you’re coming from,” he said. “You won’t be cut off from your family.” 

She was shocked at what came out of Shelby’s mouth. He was assuring her that she wouldn’t be cut off from her family. She scoffed, she knew the answer. “You genuinely want this,” she laughed. Anya's laugh wasn’t one filled with humour that people called ‘infectious’. It was filled with shock and disbelief. “Good God, you want to go through with this. What happened, Mr Shelby,  at the Pub that made you want this?” 

“Your father got caught up in some business with the Blinders,” he told her. “You got caught in the crossfires.”

He grabbed Anya and led her out of the Pub. Uncle Sam was reluctant but didn’t object when she sent him a pleading look. And with that, she was on her way to her parents. Her mum was probably worried sick about her. 

[justforbooks]

Alice Munro

Canadian short-story writer who won the Nobel prize in 2013 and was often likened to Chekhov and Guy de Maupassant

Few writers have possessed the short-story format as thoroughly as the Canadian author and Nobel laureate Alice Munro, who has died aged 92.

Although her early years as a writer were clouded by the feeling, partly the result of pressure from her publishers, that she should concentrate on producing a novel, she never embraced that genre.

Her one attempt, Lives of Girls and Women (1971), is more accurately described as a collection of interlinking tales. Throughout her career, she developed this method of cross-referencing stories and continuing themes and characters across a collection, most notably in The Beggar Maid (published in Canada as Who Do You Think You Are?), which was nominated for the Booker prize in 1980, and in the Juliet stories of the epiphanic collection Runaway (2004).

For Munro, short stories were the result of practical considerations, rather than choice. As Alice Laidlaw, she had won a scholarship to the University of Western Ontario, but left after two years to marry James Munro at the age of 20; she gave birth to her first child at 22 and later played an important role in running a bookstore in Victoria, British Columbia, with her husband.

Trying simultaneously to establish herself as a writer (she had her first story published in an undergraduate magazine in 1950 and sold a piece to the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation in 1951), she had no time for novel-writing. The short story it had to be.

Routinely likened to Chekhov and Guy de Maupassant, Munro was more radical than the comparison implies. AS Byatt, a longstanding admirer, described how reading Munro made her want to try short fiction herself. Munro stretched and challenged the genre. Not only does she consistently wrongfoot the reader, overturning our expectations of characters and their actions, but she melds several narrative strands together, bringing into one tale several plots.

Jakarta (from The Love of a Good Woman, 1998) is a good example of this method, which has prompted the frequent observation that Munro’s short stories are novels in miniature. Jakarta starts with Kath and Sonje on the beach with Kath’s baby, trying to avoid the disapproving eyes of a group of overly domesticated mothers they have nicknamed the Monicas. Kath and Sonje, in contrast, discuss DH Lawrence and their own lives; clearly these two independent-minded women want more from life than marriage and motherhood seem to offer.

This was familiar ground for Munro, who wrote extensively and sensitively of women’s sexual awakening, escape from dull and politically incompatible husbands, and excruciating separation from children.

The surprise of Jakarta comes when Munro moves forward in time to visit Sonje as she is now, widowed and about to sell her Oregon dance school. It is not Kath who drops in on her inspirational friend, but Kent, Kath’s long divorced and boorish husband, taking with him wife No 3. The story then turns back to cover Kath’s mental disentanglement from her marriage, as well as Sonje’s own travails.

Elsewhere, Munro’s narrative shocks lie in cunning juxtaposition and scandalous honesty. In Five Points (in Friend of My Youth, 1990), Maria, a lonely schoolgirl, bankrupts her immigrant family by using the profits from their shop to pay local boys for sexual favours. Her story is recounted by Neil, the “boyish man beginning to age”, with whom married Brenda has been enjoying an affair. As Neil recalls Maria, Brenda and he stumble into their first argument and their own relationship moves to another, more complex, level. The story recalls the brutal realism of Raymond Carver as much as the American gothic of Carson McCullers.

Like Five Points, the magnificent title story of Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage (2001) is an exercise in what could be termed Canadian gothic.

The apparently dull-witted heroine, Johanna Parry (“No beauty queen, ever”), appears for much of the story to be heading for tragedy. She leaves her position as a housekeeper, tricked into believing she has an offer of marriage by the malicious letter writing of two schoolgirls. But the force of her delusion, not to mention her personality, makes that marriage come about, and life with her husband, once a drunken bankrupt, a success.

At the close of the story it is Edith, one of the letter writers, who feels foolish and confused, and Johanna who has transcended expectations. Munro’s penultimate and bleakest work, Too Much Happiness (2009), sees characters facing infanticide, cancer and sexual perversion, with Munro working against anticipated outcomes in much the same way.

Munro said of her fiction: “There is always a starting point in reality.” Her own starting point was the town of Wingham, Huron County, Ontario, where she was born, to Anne (nee Chamney), a former schoolteacher, and Robert Laidlaw, a fox farmer. They are frequent presences in her stories, as is the town, which appears variously renamed as Jubilee, Dalgleish, Hanratty, Logan, Carstairs and Walley.

Much of her fiction is closely tied to the smalltown farming communities of the area with whom she identified (she once described herself as “educated to be a farmer’s wife”).

On her marriage to James in 1951, Munro moved away, first to Vancouver, but after her divorce in 1972 she returned to Ontario, eventually settling with her second husband, the geographer Gerald Fremlin, whom she married in 1976, in Clinton, only about 20 miles from Wingham.

The View from Castle Rock (2006) contains some of Munro’s most personal stories, drawing on pieces she had been working on for years about her family history. It is an account of the pioneers from whose stock she came (her ancestors, the Scottish Presbyterian Laidlaws and the Irish Anglican Chamneys, were among the first settlers in Upper Canada in the early 19th century). But it is also something of a love letter to Ontario, a record of disappearing towns and a disappearing way of life.

A writer’s writer, Munro reached international critical attention when her work began to feature in the New Yorker, from 1977, and she continued to be feted: her last work, Dear Life (2012), published when she was 81, was as strongly received as any other. Indeed, the near tragedy of the opening story, To Reach Japan, and the frank reflections on death and dementia in Dolly and In Sight of the Lake suggest a writer undiminished by age. But she shunned the literary limelight, claiming that she knew of her shortlisting for the Nobel, awarded in 2013, only the day before the prize was announced.

The esteem in which she was held was evident in the genuine, warm response from writers around the world, including her compatriot Margaret Atwood, who described Munro’s win as a “magnificent occasion”. Munro’s own reaction was self-effacing. In a statement issued through her publishers, she said: “I am particularly glad that winning this award will please so many Canadians. I am happy too that this will bring more attention to Canadian writing.” She also noted that the prize was “a wonderful thing for the short story”.

Munro constantly distanced her life from her fiction. “Some of these stories are closer to my own life than others are, but not one of them is as close as people seem to think,” she wrote in the introduction to The Moons of Jupiter (1982).

It is easy to see why the two can become confused, however. Castle Rock reveals the roots of several of her fictions, such as A Wilderness Station (Open Secrets, 1994), which takes as its starting point the death of one of her ancestors, felled by a tree. Later she would describe the four final stories of Dear Life as “the closest things I have to say about my own life”. Interestingly, the focus of this raw quartet is childhood trauma and the mother figure. Her own mother died in 1959 after 20 years of Parkinson’s disease.

Munro’s approach to writing meant that any basis in reality was distorted in the long process of refining and rewriting her work (her manuscripts, she said, were long, loose screeds). Who Do You Think You Are? was pulled from the press at the author’s insistence (and her own expense) one month before publication, and half the book reorganised and rewritten.

Munro had constantly experimented with first- and third-person narratives during its creation, and worried whether the real focus of her writing was Rose (the subject of many stories) or another character, Janet. Her perfectionism paid off: like her first publication, Dance of the Happy Shades (1968), and The Progress of Love (1986), Who Do You Think You Are? won the governor general’s award for fiction in Canada. In 2009, unusually for a short story writer, she won the Man Booker International prize for her overall contribution to fiction.

Her sparkling intelligence, sly humour and sense of narrative marked her out as one of the outstanding authors of her generation. Her long service to the short story made Munro important, and this was recognised in reviews of Lying Under the Apple Tree (2011), a selection of her stories. Writers seldom really change the direction of a genre: she did.

Fremlin died in 2013. With her first husband she had four daughters, one of whom, Catherine, died shortly after birth. Munro is survived by her daughters Sheila, Jenny and Andrea.

🔔 Alice Ann Munro, writer, born 10 July 1931; died 13 May 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for failing to commit insurance fraud?

Right, O.K., I know it sounds like a shit motive. But it wasn't supposed to go the way it did, I swear.

Here's the situation. My spouse and I have three children (3, 8, and 12). We live in a country that cares more about appearances than the actual people living here, so when the rich folk got all up in a twist about the Zombie crisis, the govt issued free cure kits and offered a relief fund for households suffering from Postmortem Traumatic Disorders, to cover the cost of rehabilitation.

Now I'll say right here, I don't respect the govt for shit. They have done jack all for the people that actually need the support. My children can barely eat, I have a job but my spouse is mentally disabled and according to the govt they're worthless to society because of it. If they were on their own they would receive no support at all and they'd probably be denied housing, which would leave them on the streets at night where they'd get fucking butchered by zombies. The only reason they're allowed to live as far as the authority is concerned is because they help me with the kids.

It's fucking bullshit.

So my spouse and I agreed on a plan. I bought a specialized gun with zombie bullets from a shady dealer off the black market. The idea was, I shoot them with it, use the cure kit immediately, we take them to the hospital to get them certified for PMTD, and we get the rehabilitation fund (would feed the kids for a full year while we look into immigration). I didn't like it, but they convinced me it should be them who turns, because if the PMTD affected my ability to work we would get nothing out of it all.

I don't usually deal with the black market. So I was naive. I thought I got standard zombie bullets, I noticed my spouse was turning greyer than most zombies. Not green at all really, just pale, and blue, and dry. That's when I realized that the shit I had just shot them with must've been a frost zombie variety. (And for those of you who've never seen a frost zombie in person: they're exactly as fast and vicious as the stories say.)

Mind you we went to my grandparents' abandoned farm for this, out of the way where no one could get hurt. Left the kids at home. Even if something went wrong it was supposed to be fine.

Except our 8y/o followed us here. They'd been hiding behind some old ass structure, and I didn't see them. And they got hit by that same bullet. And when I saw my kid from behind my spouse, I faltered. So before I could administer the cure, my spouse attacked me. I won't go into the details, but it was...... horrible.

Next thing I know, I wake up at a hospital. They saved me and my kid but my spouse is dead. They didn't see them as "worth saving". The PMTD is nothing compared to the grief of losing my beloved and being responsible for the turning of my child all in one night. It was all a big mistake. Or it should've been me in the first place. Or maybe it was foolish to try at all.

I'm not sure whether I'm more furious with myself, or with this godforsaken country I live in. Or if the wrath I feel is just a mask for the hopelessness and mourning. I don't know what I could've done different, but it seems like it's all I can think about lately.

[darkeagleruins]

The Demands From Illegal Immigrants In Denver Colorado Get More & More Insane People who have broke our laws and are already being supported by American Tax Payers need even more.

Here are their demands:

Number 1: (Illegal) Migrants will cook their own food with fresh culturally appropriate ingredients provided by the city instead of premade meals. Rice, chicken, chicken, flour, oil, butter, tomatoes, onions, etcetera. Also, people will not be punished for bringing in and eating outside food.

Number 2: Shower access will be available without time limits and can be accessed whenever. We are not in the military. We're civilians.

Number 3: Medical professional visits will happen regularly, and referrals connections for specialty care will be made as needed.

Number 4: All will receive the same housing support that has been offered to others. They cannot kick people out in 30 days without something stable established.

Number 5: There needs to be a clear just process before exiting someone for any reason, including verbal written and final warnings.

Number 6: All shelter residents will receive connection to employment support, including work permit applications for those who choose to seek employment.

Number 7: Consultations for each person or family with a free immigration lawyer must be arranged to discuss progress, their cases, and then the city will provide ongoing legal support in the form of immigration document clinics, including transportation to relevant court dates.

Number 8: The city will provide privacy for families, individuals within the shelter.

Number 9: No more verbal or physical or mental abuse will be permitted from the staff, including no sheriff sleeping inside and monitoring 247. We're not criminals and we won't be treated as such. I mean, you came to this country illegally. You're the definition of criminal, but sorry. I digress.

Number 10: Transportation for all children to and from their schools will be provided until they finish in 3 weeks.

Number 11: No separating families, regardless of if family members have children or not. The camp will stay together.

Number 12: The city must schedule a meeting with the mayor and those directly involved in running the newcomer program ASAP to discuss further improvements and ways to support migrants.

Number 13. The city must provide all residents with a document signed by a city official in English and Spanish. With all of these demands, that includes a number to call to report mistreatment.”

“So there we go. A bunch of criminals have a list of demands that the United States must meet, all while we have citizens sleeping on the street because they can't afford their rent any longer.

We have veterans that signed their name on the dotted line to give their life for the freedoms that we take regularly for granted.

They don't get any of these demands. They they would be laughed at if they were even to ask for demands.

But somehow, illegal immigrants coming into our country have the belief that they can list a bunch of demands, and we will just give them to them.

That's the world we live in now, and I am somehow not shocked at all.

[ambrosialdesire]

i’m the same anon who was asking all those questions about cacoethes (abt eren and ymir not noticing that reiner kidnapped y/n and abt the scouts LMAO i’m sorry i just really like asking stuff) anyway i was wondering what the warriors thought 😭 like what were they thinking when reiner was bringing some girl to marry and how did the marleyans react… love u

hi and welcome back anon <3 LOLOL it's okay if you wanna ask more about cacoethes, i like talking about it and trying to describe more in-depth about the characters.

so let's start with annie and bertolt cause of course we gotta start with reiner's homies and the ones that knew about her since the start.

annie was already sorta close with the reader in the first place, close enough to be teaching her a bit of the moves she learned with her dad back home. the reader was so persistent on being her friend and learning from her that annie just gave in so she'd leave her alone, but she does share some platonic fondness over her. when reiner mentioned about bringing her home with them, she really did think it was terrible idea and that he was a hard-headed moron to think that a paradisian soldier would trust a trio of enemy titan shifters in the first place. part of her was trying to protect the reader from an unwanted life but also because she was more focused on getting the founding titan and finally going home. when she finally gets de-crystiallized and meets up with the scouts, she notices that the reader isn't with them and wonders if reiner really did manage to bring her to marley or if she got killed (but she already knew that reiner would never let that happen).

bertolt has been mentioned to be wary of the reader and at first, hostile towards her. he didn't like the idea of krista/historia either because he didn't want reiner's intentions to get the founding titan to be muddled with trying to find a wife on this island. when he started to get to know the reader more, he felt really bad that they were deluding her from their real selves and their true purpose for being here. she's a nice girl, don't get him wrong but reiner can find another nice marleyan girl similar to her. but he was so goddamn persistent that his wife had to be her and only her that he went along with it, especially after reiner offed marco and had an unexplainable mental break. he basically just felt really guilty overall and though he was sorta mean towards her, he still cared about the reader since they were slowly become friends. even when facing his death, the brief thought of her being forced into marley made him sick to his stomach and he had to die with the guilt that he didn't do more to stop his best friend.

now moving onto the warriors in marley! i'm gonna be doing the adults cause i've established briefly (i think in the second chapter) that gabi doesn't like the reader at all and i don't really wanna write about the childrens' (gabi and falco) or colt's viewpoint lol

starting with zeke, he didn't and doesn't really care all that much about the reader. all he knew was that she's a devil that reiner became too fond of during the years of being on the island and refused to leave behind, making him pull strings out of his ass to convince the higher ups to let her stay in the country. during the transport and the "immigration" processes, he considered her a complete pain in the ass for making him do all of this needless work. he also doesn't like the fact that reiner wants to have children, consistently bringing it up after meetings or whenever they don't have anything to talk about. he does admire the determination the reader has on abstaining from sex, amused by the fact that she's rejected reiner's advances for nearly three years. zeke thinks she's a little cute whenever she try to hide from his gaze but he doesn't think about you 24/7 like reiner does. she's just a weak devil-blooded soldier that reiner chose to marry and that's it, nothing more and nothing less.

with pieck, she's kind towards the reader and briefly shown to have a peaceful acquaintance with her. she doesn't really care much that she comes from paradis, but she was shocked back then when reiner told her to bring her unconscious body to the boat, wondering why he had decided to bring her along (at first she thought that she was the founding titan holder). she knows that the reader will always be uncomfortable with the fact that she was forced to come to marley so she tries her best to ease her mind whenever they hang out, occasionally with the company of porco (before the reader and him fought and became friends). she does enjoy her cooking and likes the fact that she lets her hide in the guest bedroom to nap whenever the others are trying to make her do her share of the paperwork.

porco absolutely hated the reader, at first. he was never okay like the others with the fact that she came from paradis island, bringing up the fact that she's a "full-blooded" devil. even when she became married to reiner, he thought the man was under a spell that caused him to be so disillusioned from the fact that she's a paradisian, the enemy they've sworn war on. so in the beginning, he ignored her or insulted her bloodline, never wanting to be in the same room as her ever. it seemed to work for a while, she avoided him like the plague as well until that fateful night. sparring with her changed everything about her to him. i will confirm that porco did develop a crush on the reader as the days went by the more he hung out her alone (he can now sorta understand why reiner chose her out of everyone in the island) but he's always going to be conflicted about it and never do anything about his new and indifferent feelings towards her. cause yk... she's married LMFAO even if the reader had told him that she's dissatisfied with being married to reiner, he's not the one who's going to cause or push for an affair between them. porco develops a fondness for her but he constantly has to remind himself that his duty comes first, not this woman that comes from the island that he's been taught to hate.

in all, they're basically indifferent towards her. like they know she's nice but all the kindness she gave out was a weakness that reiner used to his advantage. hope this was a satisfactory answer to your question HAHA