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#it is quite literally about the culmination of possibility and uncertainty
layalu · 1 year
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Don't mind me i'm. Just gonna lay on the floor for a few hours and process this. (<- has just finished outer wilds)
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please-say-less · 4 years
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push my luck (part one)
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player: mat barzal | new york islanders word count: 1, 539 warnings: light angst, pining, your heart will literally melt at how sweet mat is, no beta we die like men summary: growing up with mat, you’ve only ever seen him as the shy boy that you’ve spent your whole life being best friends with. after moving to new york, he hasn’t kept in much contact, but when you come to visit, he just wants to know if you’re feelings for him have changed too. author’s note: issa three-shot. bad summary is bad but kinda wrote this on the basis of mat as moreso a Soft Boy™ with hints of being a goober. yeah bro idk what’s with me and roommates to lovers tropes. ok but let me know if y’all are even vibing with the way i write his pov cos my writing feels highkey cringe to me all the time. whoops.
beginning | part two
“Hey, you okay, dude?”
It’s difficult to breathe with the air stuck in his throat, and he can’t help but rub his clammy hands all over his new suit-oh well, it looked nice enough for a few photos. His face is getting a little too hot, and he’s become a stuttering mess with his words. Anybody would think after the last couple of years as a well-known athlete in New York, he’d be able to handle any stressful situation, yet you manage to give him the same effect time after time.
“Huh?” he looks back over to Tito. “Y-Yeah. . . Totally fine.”
The questioning look on his friend’s face is enough of a dead giveaway that Mathew is probably the worst actor and liar on Earth, but he doesn’t care about the endless amount of teasing he’ll get for this. It’s been too long since he’s last seen you and to say that he misses the butterflies you give him would be quite the understatement.
Even now, he doesn’t see you as anything different than the same girl next door from home that he’s spent a majority of life being smitten with and the same ball of energy that’s cheered him on at every game from youth hockey to playing in the NHL until the two of you had to part ways. Yes, the worst event of his life that he’s dubbed his Untimely Death Part 1-Part 2 being the time Tito took him out to Coney Island and handed the poor boy a pretzel before the seagulls started chasing him down the boardwalk. In a way, he’s spent part of his time in New York mourning the death of what used to be, and there’s still a part of him that regrets not keeping in contact with you.
He’s not the most confident guy when it comes to dating, and as he swallows the lump of nervousness that’s been building up in his throat, Mathew hopes that his uncertainty isn’t as painfully obvious as he usually makes himself out to be.
He downs the shot of whiskey, and as the amber leaves a burning trail from his throat down to his belly, he mentally prepares himself on his introduction to you. He wants you to know that he’s grown in the last couple years, and he’s not the same immature boy you knew back home. He’s a man now and has the means to take care of you, should you need it. Chin up, head high, and shoulders back-he struts up to you with his newfound confidence.
“You look beautiful in that dress,” he comments.
Turning around confused, you smile as soon as you see who it is. The two of you embrace, and he can’t help but admire just how well your body fits in his arms-as it always has honestly. He probably has the dumbest, widest smile on his face right now, but he’s just so elated to see you again. It’s hard for him to concentrate on the words coming out of your mouth as he gazes at you with loving eyes through rose colored glasses. You’re just really here right now.
“Mat! It’s been too long!”
He offers you his arm, and you take it as he walks you over to the bar and orders two flutes of champagne from the bartender. The two of you continue to chat for too long of a while, and he almost forgets that talking to you comes just as naturally as breathing. He admires your features and notices that you’ve done some growing as well. Your curves have filled out lusciously, and you have a more womanly aura that surrounds you.
“So how are you and that one guy?” he asks. “You two still together?”
“Please, we were never a thing,” you roll your eyes. “I can’t believe my mom told your mom about that-it was just one date!”
“I’m guessing it didn’t go great then?”
“He spent the whole time messaging other girls, so I made up some excuse to leave. The loser wouldn’t stop messaging me wondering why I wouldn’t go out with him again, and I had to bite my tongue!”
He nods in understanding as you let out an exaggerated huff, but mentally, he’s doing backflips out of joy knowing that maybe you’ve been waiting just as long for him too. How else could someone as beautiful as you still be single after all this time?
“New York seems nice,” you say.
“It’d be nicer with you,” he chuckles.
“Those are some bold words to say, Barzal.”
“It gets kind of lonely sometimes. Tito’s always been closest to me, and now that he’s got a girl, it’s just easier to tell them I’m busy than suffer through being a third wheel.”
You can’t help but laugh at his lame attempt at getting you to move countries, but at the same time, a change of scenery doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all. Besides your family, nothing’s really keeping you tied to your hometown, and your parents continuously insist that you see the world before you settle down. After all, you were single and fresh out of college but having a familiar face in a new place didn’t make it seem as scary.
“I don’t know. . .” you chew your lip. “I did get a job offer around here.”
“Oh yeah?” he tries to contain his excitement.
“I just wouldn’t know where to stay or what to do. A new city can be scary.”
All the stars and moons in the galaxy have perfectly aligned for this moment to finally culminate, and this must be the work of his prayers finally being answered. He needs to shoot his shot now while the ball’s in his court, or the chance may never come again. A sudden wave of nervousness crashes over him at the possibility of the actual death of his relationship with you should he hesitate once again.
“You could stay with me if you wanted-I mean-until you can find your own place.”
He sincerely wants to help you, but he also feels a sense of guilt in hopes that you end up depending on him. Although money hasn’t become an issue in his life after taking the big leap and signing a contract with the Islanders, New York City is by no means an inexpensive place to live.
“I wouldn’t want to impose. . .”
“No-I want you to stay with me!”
Suddenly his Untimely Death Part Three is going to come sooner than expected. His shoulders tense and jaw clenches as he realizes what he’s just blurted out, and he can feel his face turning red at just how dumb he is. He’s just revealed his biggest secret, and he’s in no way subtle or chill about it. He’s ready to turn back around, run out of the building, and head back to his house to hide under a rock until things blow over, but he becomes confused when he hears you giggling.
“I think you’re the only person who’s ever been this excited to live with me,” you smile.
“Uh-Yeah-Wouldn’t want you staying with some stranger or creep, y’know?”
He tries to play it cool, but Mat Barzal, in fact, is not by any means playing it cool. If anything, he’s the creep for trying to get you to stay with him. As if by some magic, you would fall head over heels for him overnight, and everything he’d been dreaming of since childhood adolescence would finally be coming true.
He’d whisk you away, and the two of you could be married somewhere beautiful with white sand beaches and ocean water as clear as the sky. Then maybe you could honeymoon throughout Europe before settling down and buying a house. After that, kids could fit somewhere into the equation. Wait, do you even want kids? He ponders the idea to himself for a moment before smiling at the idea of how cute you would look pregnant, and when he imagines you as a mother tending to your children and husband, he’s sold himself on the idea.
“Careful, I might have to take you up on that,” you snap him out of his daydream.
“Wh-What?” he stutters.
“Honestly, I kind of miss hanging out with you. No one back home can really compare to the Mathew Barzal.”
A light blush spreads across his cheeks. His full name sounds like a symphony coming out of your mouth, and he spends a little too much time focusing on the way your plump lips sound out each syllable of his name. He can’t help but imagine how soft your lips would feel if they were pressed against his, but as he continues to picture the other things those lips could do, he stops himself before having to deal with the possibility of his Untimely Death Part Four in the middle of this gala.
Somehow with his not-so-convincing words, he’s managed to talk you into moving in with him, and when you talk to your families about it, they’re more than happy about your new living situation. It gives them the excuse to visit more often, but he’s more excited at the thought of just being around you again.
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aliceslantern · 4 years
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Beyond this Existence: Atonement chapter 17
Ansem always had a penchant for strays, so it's not at all surprising when he takes in the orphaned child Ienzo. The boy's presence changes everything, far more than Even is willing to admit. Ienzo's brilliance seems promising, but the arrival of a young Xehanort pushes the apprentices onto a dark, cruel, inhumane path which will affect the future of the World. And even once it's all over with--once Xehanort is dead--they still must pick up the pieces, forgive one another, find a way to atone for their atrocities, and struggle to accept the humanity which has been thrust upon them.
Or: Even's journey from BBS through post-KH3
Chapter summary:  Even and Ansem repair their old friendship, growing closer in an unexpected way. Even's newest research project breaks his stagnation.
Read it on FF.net/on AO3
---
It takes time.
Time of conversations, of walks, arguments. Time digging through the muck of their pasts. It is still hard to trust one another; it might always be. But they seem to be getting somewhere, and Even will take somewhere after nowhere.
He tells Ansem about those long twelve years under Xemnas's thumb; about the replicas, Roxas, all they did to make worlds fall. About vain attempts at Kingdom Hearts, about the dissolution of his rapports with Zexion, Lexeaus, and especially Xaldin; the horrors of Castle Oblivion; his own death. He recounts it with a sort of distance, and then rolls up one of his sleeves to show Ansem part of the scars.
"How's that for karmic payback?" he asks dryly.
Ansem examines his arm with a stricken expression. Then, deliberately or not at all, he runs his fingertip along it. "Does it still ail you?"
The touch is unsettling; though why? Even is feeling something unfamiliar. Discomfort? Uncertainty?
Something else entirely? He was never good at feelings.
"Not so much," he says. "Though most of the flesh is numb. You may get some pleasure from the fact that I was first to die."
Ansem doesn't comment on this. "And this devastation is… total?"
"All but my face, hands, throat, and feet. I suppose I should be grateful for that--hard to do delicate work if one cannot feel one's fingers." He can feel the blood in his face. "My body does not matter, so long as it does not collapse on me."
"At our age vanity is just that," he agrees. "I am… sorry."
He barks an awkward laugh. "What for?"
"None deserve to die so violently."
"Blame Axel's flair for the dramatic. A simple slice to the jugular would have been sufficient."
There are a few beats of silence. Ansem taps the tips of his fingers together, restlessly. “And the others?”
“How did we die?”
“Is that too… voyeuristic to ask?”
“I don’t believe so.” Even sighs. “Xaldin and Demyx were both felled by Sora, Lexeaus by Riku, Zexion by… Axel’s machinations. I’m afraid it’s all rather violent. But it was necessary, to be whole. Seems to go against the grain.”
“It does,” he agrees.
“Things seem to make less and less sense to me the longer I live.”
Ansem chuckles. “That’s how it seems. Wisdom is merely… negative learning.”
Months, and months, and months--
He and Ansem seem to be developing a warmer rapport. It is easier to be with one another, to be frank. Something like their old friendship peers through the cracks. It gives Even hope, for the first time in a long, long while. Hope that they might yet be saved. Things warm between the rest of them, as well. The talk is not so dreadfully existential. This is helped considerably by the two boys; Ienzo’s dry humor and Demyx’s easygoing nature are encouraging. The idea of all having dinner together is no longer so awkward, but rather something to look forward to.
When possible, Even helps Ienzo with his memorial project for their victims, in its final draft. One spring day, the boy presents it to them, explains at length what it means; the symbolism of flowers, the presentation of their records, the histories of those impacted by what they did. It’s the culmination of an entire year.
Hearing it all, Even is filled with something like pride for the boy, the way he so gracefully has taken responsibility. It is something he himself must learn to do.
Radiant Garden elects a city council, a group of seven individuals to take the brunt of the work from the committee. There’s some worry as to whether they may face legal consequences for what they did, but eventually, and along with the committee’s vouch, they’re allowed to remain as they were, so long as they provide their assistance. As this is what they all want anyway, it’s no issue. Ansem acts as advisor; with this to fill his days, he improves.
They’re allowed to build the garden. Almost everyone spends as much time here as possible, doing what they can. It’s good to work with the body.
Once it’s all done…
For a while he and Ansem stand in front of the wall of names. He places incense in the altar, lights it; many other burnt sticks are already crowding the stone.
I’m sorry.
He doesn’t say it, not out loud. They’re resting in a place beyond words, no thanks to him. His heart is racing, and he can feel the wetness in his eyes. As much progress as they’ve made, the guilt will be there, probably forever. And rightfully so.
Ansem rests a hand on his shoulder. “Peace, Even,” he says gently. “It’s alright.”
Perhaps it’s this implication of forgiveness, but he breaks. It seems all the pain is at the surface now; the loss of his family, the brunt of what he’s done. It hurts to be forgiven. He does not nearly deserve it.
Ansem gently embraces him. To be touched is something of a shock, and for a moment it only intensifies this crying fit. More pathetic yet, he’s clinging to him like a lifeline in this storm.
But once it’s through, once he so slowly collects the pieces of himself, dries his eyes, there’s something like catharsis, an undoing rather than a sealing away.
(And, he notes, Ansem still smells the same.)
“I… must apologize,” he says thickly. “This is most unbecoming.”
“I daresay you could use a cup of tea,” Ansem says, letting go of him.
“Perhaps something stronger.”
---
Even knows time is passing, as much as it may not feel like it. He shouldn’t be surprised when gossip is laid at his feet, brought by Dilan, who heard it from Ansem, who heard it from the city council, who heard it from the committee, who heard it from Demyx. It’s a complicated game of telephone, but as soon as Even hears it, he knows it’s not mere rumor:
Ienzo and Demyx are engaged.
He’s gotten used to the boy by now, but yet he feels something like the anger he had when he first found out they were together. Because god Ienzo is just so young . Much too young to make a decision like this. Almost getting himself killed is one thing, but… getting married? At twenty-one?
“That so,” he says to Dilan.
He smirks. “What can I say. My sources are reliable.”
“You should’ve been a journalist, not an engineer.” He leans against his palm. “Has anyone talked to him about it?”
“Not quite.” He shrugs. “Would it be the worst thing?”
“At this point in their neurological development, they are literally incapable of making consequential decisions. I don’t want them to do something they’ll regret.” His heart is beating hard with dread.
A shrug. “I’d take a divorced Ienzo over a dead or depressed one. Besides. Wasn’t your marriage rather spur-of-the-moment?”
He has a point. Still, Even feels blood rush into his face. “I’ll talk to him.”
He doesn’t have to wait long; the boy comes to him with a thick manuscript, a more portable version of the stories he’s gathered from their victims, and the survivors. It feels… odd, to hold it in his hands. Odd and uncomfortable. He knows the truth of it. Yet to hear their words is… well. Power to the boy for being able to handle it. “I never pictured you as a soft scientist,” Even says instead.
Ienzo exhales. He needs glasses now, the first concrete sign of his humanity catching up to him. “You’re going to be frightfully disappointed in me, but I no longer derive any pleasure or fulfillment from so-called “harder” subjects.”
Even frowns. “Why on earth would I be disappointed?” As though pursuing his passions were a bad thing?
“I do recall a period in my life when you found my perusal of fiction a waste of time, when I could be studying.”
He sets the book down. “We all know what a fool I was, back then. No.” He smiles. “The only way I’d be disappointed in you was if you were to waste your life faffing about. But you were never lazy.”
He scratches his cheek.  “I understand the… trepidation, you might feel,” he says slowly. “And… it is quite harrowing.”
Even drops his eyes. “I can only imagine what the experience has been like, for you.”
“...Gathering these stories?” He hesitates. “Not everyone is… willing to share such dark content of their hearts. I’ve had more than one door slammed in my face.” He wrings his hands. “I’d hoped that my suspicion regarding everyone’s opinion of us was mere paranoia, but some folks do feel a certain… ire. Not that I can blame them.” He clears his throat.  “It’s… worth it, to hear their voices. We… need to understand the human impact. I don’t mean the numbers.” He is shy, sheepish. “I have… written something of an abridged memoir, myself.”
Ienzo always loved stories. It must be one of the many ways he’s trying to take care of himself. “It would only make sense. You are one of the victims.” Used, manipulated, stunted, deprived of a normal life.
He flinches. “Victim and perpetrator in one. Seems I am fated to live in dichotomy.” He inhales sharply. “I have already spoken to the others. It might be valuable to give your own version of events. Not necessarily for publication.”
Funny boy. “For the good of my recovery?”
The earnestness almost makes Even laugh. “Well, yes. You had said you were trying to write and reflect, to delineate a new identity. How is this any different? Your perspective could offer some insight to future generations, when they inevitably look back at all this.”
“Record keeping,” Even mutters. “Very well. I… will consider it. Are you alright?”
He flinches, again, and presses a hand to his brow. “I had hoped these new glasses would lessen my headaches, but that appears not to be the case.”
Concern blooms in him. “You’re still getting them? After all this time?” Surely it isn’t healthy.
He smiles, but it looks fake. “Not frequently. You needn’t worry. Take as much time as you’d like with it. I have other copies.”
“I shall, but…” Even looks him over. He is improved compared to those early days--a healthy weight and color--but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still feeling the ramifications of all he did. “ Do let that fiance of yours take a look at you. Apparently he’s quite competent.” He waves his hand dismissively.
Ienzo, hearing the word, flushes; caught.
“Did you actually think you could keep it under wraps?” Even asks. “What with Dilan’s inane gossiping?”
“Not… secret. I don’t see why my personal life should be of interest to anyone.”
“Of course it will be, when we live on top of one another.” He debates biting this bullet. “You are so… very young. So young.”
He scowls. “As nobody will let me forget.”
“I don’t want you to get into something so permanent. You’re barely stable yourself.” When Ienzo says nothing, he adds-- “Even if you were not only twenty-one, you’ve only been with him a year. I realize you are not used to the idea of permanence, but this will be--”
“It was I who asked him.”
He blinks. Not at all what he thought. “I’d’ve--figured--”
He’s rather snappish when he says, “Demyx is very respectful of my boundaries. He would not force me into anything I did not explicitly ask for. Should it end, we will deal with it maturely. But I don’t see that happening.”
Again, his mind’s made up. Concern wells in Even. But he supposes Dilan must be right. The boy should be allowed to make his own choices. His life has already been so tempestuous; this might offer him a shred of stability, artificial or no. “Do you truly want this?” Even asks. “Would it make you happy?”
“Yes,” he says. “And I am already happy. Insofar as I can be, anyway.”
Then that’s that. “I suppose I will always see you as a… child.”
He sighs. “Par for the course when you raise someone.You were always… more my guardian than Ansem. But you must trust I am able to make my own decisions. After all, you--”  He blushes.
“I what?”
“It was not me you came back to Radiant Garden for.”
“You know why I had to leave. Ienzo, I did not want to, but who else would’ve--”
“...I know.” He bites his lip. “Still. A note would’ve been appreciated. You needn’t protect me anymore. Especially from Demyx.”
Even sighs. “Old habits die hard. Or so the cliche goes.”
“...Right. Well. I shall leave you to it, then.” He leaves, allowing Even to consider the manuscript in front of him. It takes a few minutes of culling his nerve to open it.
One could not call Ienzo a “concise” writer. His language is flowery, emotional; he plays with the voices of the survivors, curating it carefully. Even wonders if, had the boy been raised differently, he might’ve been a writer after all.
It is harrowing. The heartbreak and torment these people went through--the snippets of it--
Even once she was back, she was never the same.
He just vanished. We thought it might’ve been the wolves, beyond the city limits. But then we heard those stories about the castle and I… I just knew, in the pit of my stomach. I felt so betrayed by the king. Why did he let this happen?
I kissed their cheek, tied the ribbon in their hair. They were so excited to go; their whole class was rooting for them. They never came home.
Even feels nauseous. Still, he continues. He knows he needs to do this, to listen to them. To again feel that human weight.
Perhaps the most upsetting part of it is Ienzo’s, shoehorned at the very back.
I know people must think we’re monsters. It is only right, it is only true . Yet we were also subjected to the darkness we bore, its ache, the way it destroys all that is good. My unraveling was a slow one, one I am still trying to fix. But is anything we do ever enough?
Is it?
---
So Even writes again, abridging his manic, borderline unintelligible journals from the months prior into something halfway readable. It’s hard to find the balance, between feeling and fact, what will make a cohesive narrative. He was never a writer, nor, he thinks, does he want to be. He gives Ienzo some suggested edits and leaves it all at the child’s favorite desk in the library.
Again there’s that stiff sense of catharsis, of a sort of release. His mind is so much more tangled than he ever thought. More complex.
(More human.)
He wonders, with something like a flash, if in fact darkness harnesses the mind like addiction. It truly is a euphoric pull. If only, if only he had working MRI equipment to study the mind. All he has is blood, is feelings. That doesn’t account for much. Not watertight science.
He finds himself rambling about this to Ansem, of all people.
This seems to shake him; for several moments Ansem just stares into the middle distance, something stricken on his face. Then, “Even, you’re a genius.”
“Don’t be absurd--it’s been in my face all along, yet I’ve ignored the signs--”
“We all have. We thought this was about morality--and it is, of course we’re still accountable for our actions. But all this… difficulty becoming human, the way we were undone so quickly… it makes a sort of sense. Why we couldn’t stop even though we knew what we were doing.”
“Which is why I’m positively aching to study our minds,” he says, pacing. “I’ve no functioning machinery. A blood test won’t tell me much of anything anymore, except chemistry, and it’s so variable considering we’re all basically guaranteed to have multiple mental illnesses outside of this supposed “addiction”. There’s simply no way--”
“Oh, I can think of one,” Ansem says.
Even snorts. “Really? Name it.”
“We do know a few people who work with the body. In a way that is not quite literal.” A smile. “Not everything has to be so black and white.”
He blinks. “That is… absolutely correct.”
---
When Even asks Demyx about it, he also gives him that same odd look.
“Well fuck,” he says. “I mean I’m happy to help, but like, I’ve only been doing this for a few months now. Not sure I can… collect data, or whatever.” He spins idly on one of Even’s stools.
“You said you work with people’s energies. What does that tell you?”
He blows a raspberry. “Mostly it’s a… well. It depends. Like a color, or a note. Your personality, basically. But actually feeling inside the brain…” He looks at his hands. “You know… I’ve been desperately trying to repress it, but I’ve been inside someone’s head. I felt their…” He flinches. “Anyway. I wouldn’t know what to look for.”
“That I can help you with. And I can be guinea pig--if necessary.”
He bites his lip. “This will help people?”
“I’m positive.”
“Okay. Sure. I’m in.” He ruffles the hair at the back of his neck. His knee is jiggling. He doesn’t quite want to meet Even’s eyes. “I’ve gotta… do some reading. Some asking around.”
“I’m sure.”
“So guess I’ll go?”
“Of course. Thanks, Demyx. This means a lot to me.” To think there'd be a day when he willingly sought Demyx's help, his expertise.
He flashes a peace sign and stands.
“Wait.”
He tenses. He knows they’ve both been anticipating this. “Yeah?” he asks cautiously.
“You and Ienzo…” Even trails off. “Is this what you want as well?”
He looks up. He’s blushing. “It really is. I…” He bites his lip. “Love is weird and terrifying, but we kind of… helped each other become human. Kind of literally for me. Not sure if that’s why things between us are so intense. I can’t imagine it changing.”
“...I see.” He can tell there’s some realization to be gleaned from this; he can also tell that he desperately does not want to know it. “Very well.”
“Guess you can’t get rid of me after all,” he says. He smiles a little. “See ya.”
---
Love.
Why is Even thinking about this?
Feelings are complicated enough without adding romance to it. Familial, platonic love is one thing; anything else is too much.
He was married, once.
He still can’t be sure he truly loved that person the way they all blathered on about. A love, not the love. Is this something he would want? Is he worthy of anyone? It’s surely not necessary. But for the first time Even desires a personal life… whatever that may mean. His work/life balance has never been ideal, in his brief time as a spouse, a parent. This vein of thought alone is indulgent. He should shunt it away, bury it. Besides, to want this type of love would mean there has to be an object of such affection… and there isn’t one.
He decides to ask Ansem about it.
“I’m afraid I can’t be much use,” he says, barely looking up from the papers spread all across his desk. It’s a familiar sight, yet also one Even hasn’t seen in years. He chuckles wryly. “But Even, you are a human being. You have a right to these things, should you so want them.”
“What, and force someone else to put up with me? Perhaps my synapses are misfiring.”
Ansem circles something on the paper in front of him. “These people write law like they were raised in a barn.” Then, “I suppose they were. Anyway, perhaps you should view it as a sign of growth. You always held others at arm’s length--even before you became a Nobody. Now, you’re allowing people into your life, your heart.” He twirls a pen vaguely.
“It certainly does not feel like growth.” He scoffs. He shifts a little in his seat. “Is that something you ever saw for yourself? You’ve never mentioned a spouse, a lover.” This almost seems as if it is getting too personal. “Does it simply not interest you?”
“I… wouldn’t say that.”
Oh?
“I am improving, true. I think it will be some time before I can confidently… pursue such matters.”
“...It sounds almost as if you have a certain individual in mind.” Ansem is fond of writing letters; perhaps some pen pal?
There is just the slightest hesitation, almost unnoticeable. “I do believe Dilan’s gossip mongering is getting to you.”
“...Perhaps.”
---
What does it mean?
Moreover, why does he care?
Every time Even tries to push the question out of his mind, it comes back with a vengeance. He keeps coming back to that interaction. And every time, it gives him a jolt of something like fear. He refuses to think critically about it. More important work at hand.
He’s again spending more time with Demyx; moreso, actually, than with Ienzo. If they’re to work together, it’s par for the course. But Demyx isn’t a scientist. Some things are simply beyond his realm of understanding. The boy is trying to study the texts that Even leaves him, but it all seems to worry him.
“Not sure I’m cut out for this,” he says. “You should really just ask Aerith.”
Even frowns. “Why not?”
“I…” He looks down at his hands, which are trembling. “I’m a total newbie. Who knows if what I find is even right?”
“I thought you’ve done this before?”
He flinches. “Once. And… not under ideal circumstances. I had to… stop someone from having a stroke.” He’s flushing.
“This is not nearly so invasive.”
“I know that, but…” He traces a finger along the page.
Even frowns. “What’s wrong? I don’t believe you’ll hurt anyone. I just want to look for injury, response, that’s all. Which is something you do every day.”
Demyx shakes his head. “It’s not that. I guess I should be honest. Family, and all.”
Even feels a thick wave of anxiety. “...What?”
He drops his eyes. “The person was Ienzo.”
His heart falls to his feet. Even feels his hand at his breastbone. “But the boy’s fine,” Even says.
“Yeah. Now. These… headaches. It was more than just the manifestation of his will, or whatever. It was an accumulation of years of stress. Like the glasses. All the fucked up shit that happened to his body caught up to him. I was just lucky enough to be there when it happened.” His eyes are watering, and he blinks hard. “I just feel really icky when I think about it.”
Even squeezes his shoulder gently, in an attempt to comfort. “I don’t… blame you.” Ienzo is the youngest of all of them. If he has--or had--such problems, what could be wrong with the rest of them? “You’ve gotten yourself looked at, I hope?”
“I… yeah. There would’ve been some trouble with my heart. But Aerith knew what to look for, so she fixed it.” He lays a palm on his chest.
It’s becoming clear. “You’re scared of what you might find in the rest of us?”
“Maybe. It’s weird. I’m not used to my patients… being us.”
Even is also unsettled. Of course he knows that he’s treated his body poorly in the past--too much work, not enough food or sleep--but it’s another thing to embody that knowledge.
“At least it can be fixed,” he says slowly. “I don’t want to fuck up. Any time--but especially if it’s you guys. I… sort of care.” He laughs wryly.
“Well I’m afraid you’ve gotten yourself into a situation where you must be involved with us.”
“It’s easier now than it was back then. Don’t you think?”
“It gets easier every day.”
---
The pit keeps getting deeper. Every time he thinks he understands just how much darkness has destroyed them, it grows yet more cataclysmic. The stress--while they did not necessarily feel it as Nobodies--is having infinite consequences. After some prodding, he is able to convince them all to give him a sample of their DNA, to further study their epigenomes. It’s engrossing work--work that might help future generations avoid their perilous mistakes. The sample size is still incredibly small, and incredibly skewed. No women, for example, and most of them are middle-aged (or, begrudgingly, older). He wonders if the townsfolk would be willing to participate, but as soon as the thought forms he’s aware of the paranoia.
“I can bring it up to the city council,” Ansem says one evening, in his quarters. “And put out some feelers. They claim to be so interested in the people’s emotional state. And we are desperate for some kind of mental health treatment. This might help beget that.”
Even feels exhausted. He still has so much to do. He has to admit it’s nice to be driven again, to have a goal to work towards. It certainly has lifted him out of that dark, dangerous place. “Oh, I certainly hope so.”
Ansem puts down his pen, stretches his wrist. “I must say modesty becomes you.”
Even scoffs. “Funny.”
“I mean it. You’ve changed more than you think. I’ve so rarely seen you approach things with grace and tenderness.”
“Flowery words.” He picks at the ends of his hair, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. “I spent so long working so selfishly. I said it was for the greater good, but really it was for the greater good of… Even.” He winces. “To know I can actually help, or at the very least leave behind a study that might help future generations… is a comfort.” He leans his elbows onto the table. “I’m exhausted.”
“You look it. You should try to get some rest.”
“...Perhaps. I’ll get up when I can find the ambition.”
He picks the pen back up. “No reason you can’t sit with a friend.”
“...You would consider me one?”
Ansem raises an eyebrow. “As if I would let you sit here blathering on otherwise?”
Even rolls his eyes.
“I do enjoy your company. Rather more than I used to. I am starting to… let go of the bitterness. It does nothing except make me harder and less tolerable. You are all trying so hard to better yourselves… I’d best follow suit.”
There’s a few moments of silence, but it’s comfortable. Even finds himself, again, thinking of their previous conversation. He’s almost tempted to ask. Should he? And why is such a thought putting a tightness in his throat? “...So what do you think of this wedding?” he asks instead.
Ansem fully sets aside his work, and leans back in the chair. “I did not think it would happen so soon. But they work well together, as a pair. Why wait, as it were. Demyx is an earnest young man, and he’s also changed so much. He really would do anything for Ienzo. And I think after so much neglect, Ienzo deserves as much love as he can find.”
“...It’s so… funny, I suppose. For the longest time all of us rotting in that castle could not tolerate each other, and here we are… quite literally family.”
“Better than being alone.”
“...It is. It took me a long while to realize I could not live that way. Too long. People need… people.” His lip curls.
Ansem laughs. “Quite.” He takes Even’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Besides, some deserve a fresh start.”
Even blinks. He should move his hand, but finds himself almost immovable. He recalls that night many years before, when he was bedridden with that flu. The way the touch seemed like it was always there. It sounds almost as if you have a certain individual in mind.
Even. You dunce.
Too slowly, he withdraws. “I should… get some sleep. We’ve both had long days.”
Ansem looks vaguely startled. “Yes. Well. Good night.”
“Good night.”
He limps back to his quarters, feeling vaguely nauseous, like he’s been punched. His heart rate is erratic. This is something very like panic, but at the same time, not quite. His mind races. It aches.
Isn't this what you've desired?
With Ansem?
He feels like he can't breathe.
Are these feelings real, or his?
What does he want ?
That simple touch--a squeeze of the hand--is almost enough to unravel him. Much less--
He can not mentally compute it.
Even has to come out with it. To verbalize the thought in whole. To love Ansem?
And yet. Who else could it possibly be?
Is he in love?
He certainly isn't alone.
But isn't love instantly knowable?
Either way, Ansem likely has feelings for him. What does this mean? Is this what he wants?
After so long without anything, love and lust are incalculable. Unobtainable.
What does Even want?
Is he worthy?
He can't breathe.
---
"Even?"
He's pretending to sleep when he hears the voice. "Is something the matter?"
"...I would like a word." Ansem's voice is gruff, scratchy.
"Now?"
"Are you really asleep?"
A fair point. He puts on his robe. Finds Ansem in the doorway. (His heart stutters--a warning sign.) "What do you need?"
"...I'd like to talk."
He gets dressed. Follows Ansem down the hall in this silky blue night. His heart races, flooding him with cortisol.
(And something like hope.)
They walk for a few minutes. "So what exactly couldn’t wait until morning?" Even asks.
Ansem hesitates. "My words fail me. I… can… feel something."
"Congratulations."
He touches Even's shoulder. "I thought you may feel something as well."
His heart about shatters. "Ansem. You deserve more than me. A person who is whole, untainted, better than some wretch--"
Ansem touches his cheek, and his world about stops. "You are so much more than that."
In this dark hallway, Ansem leans up and, so gently, kisses him on the mouth.
It’s bizarre; how the body remembers what to do. It has to be close to fifteen years since he’s kissed someone, but yet something about this is so familiar. His smell, the subtle scratch of his beard. Like it’s all happened before. Something like panic replaces the hard-won pleasure, and he breaks away. He finds himself tensing, breaking away all too soon.
“Are you alright?” Ansem asks.
“I’m not so sure. I just… why?”
“Haven’t we spent long enough being miserable and alone?”
“I… suppose.” He’s infinitely grateful for the semidarkness. He can feel himself unravelling.
“Do you want this?”
“What I want doesn’t matter.”
“But it does.” Ansem takes Even’s hands.
“We took this sort of thing from people. Do we really deserve it?”
“And what is the alternative?” Ansem asks softly. “Locking yourself away? Grinding down your own emotions? None of that will meaningfully help you atone.”
He can hear himself breathing tremulously. “Alright.”
“Alright, what?”
Even can feel his words failing as well. “I will… try. But it’s been… I feel so--” A stuttering wreck.
“We’re not young. We’ve no need to rush headfirst into things.”
“I need to… process all this.” He pulls away his hands. “I can find you later.”
“Of course.” Ansem chances kissing him once more. It’s quick, chaste, and yet is all too much. All of this touch is. Even can feel himself getting choked up. “Good night, Even.”
He listens to his footsteps retreating into the darkness. Despite the warmth of the early fall evening, he’s shivering. It’s not normal, to react this way; he knows this much. Below the anxiety, he feels something very like relief. Closure. He’s known Ansem longer than he’s known anyone. It’s only suitable they find one another now.
He sinks wearily into bed, and sleeps.
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errantabbot · 4 years
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On New Normals: A Reflection on Easter 2020
I have a complicated relationship with Easter, with Jesus, with Christianity, and even the institution of religion as a whole. From time to time it seems as though my public commentary (which most frequently takes on the form of criticism) tends toward deconstruction with little reconstruction. And yet, I continue to assert time and time again that there is immense value, and a wealth of wisdom to be found in religion, and the various scriptures, and practices associated with it.
It is no secret that religion, as a human institution, has been and is prone to being abused toward gross, divisive, and destructive outcomes. The scriptures of the “religions of the book” are particularly effective at being wielded destructively through their interpretation, which ranges from simple literal readings (both within and outside of context), and creative, systematic constructions of dogma, inferred and overt. A cursory perusal of the holy writ from most any tradition is likely to reveal a rather accurate portrait of humanity itself, over time. Self-sacrificial love, all transcending forgiveness, and calls toward limitless charity often appear alongside seemingly divinely sanctioned (when not overtly mandated) violence, hatred, anger, and fear.
When it comes down to it, I suspect that the struggles that our increasingly spiritual-when-but-not-religious society has with organized spirituality (either as participants or onlookers), amount to religion’s reality as a microcosm of what we struggle with within ourselves, collectively and individually. That is to say, our internal contradictions, our inconsistencies, and our capacities for boundless love that emerge right alongside our capacities (and even predilections) for atrocity. As a microcosm, though, religion can help us move beyond our typical all-or-nothing quandaries and process the gestalt that is the fullness of our being through intentional contemplation and action.
This contemplation does not demand any sort of adherence to any particular rubric of interpretation or framing, but it does demand intention and attention, as do most any fruitful human activities. For instance, the Jesus that I read about and contemplate when I engage the Christian tradition is rarely preached about from the pulpits of churches, but this Jesus does lead me to meaningful engagement with the difficulties of life.
When I read the story of Jesus, I read the story of a child born of uncertain paternity, who could only be called a child of God, into the margins of society. I read the story of an adolescent whose early experiences of life inspired in him a fervent search for the sacred, and the belonging and meaning that can be derived from its encounter. I read the story of a man whose search for that encounter led him to the margins of faith, where he was initiated at the hands of an itinerant mystic, into a relatively common fate. I read the story of a by-chance prophet whose spiritual rebirth charged him with challenging the religious, social, and political powers and structures of his day, in both word and deed. I read the story of a countercultural icon whose shocking and bold presence inspired faith, wonder, unsettled questioning, and contempt all at once.
When I read the story of Jesus, I read the story of a savior and a charlatan (depending on which side of the narrative I read him through), who himself wavered between certainty and doubt in his own calling and resolve therein. In this, I read the story of a model human, who despite his wavering persisted in responding to the charge of his encounters with the sacred, and subsequently forever altered the course of human history. Indeed, I read the story of a man whose martyrdom raised him into Godhood, and whose power and influence only grew in the passing of his physical body.
Jesus is one of those rare beings whose presence has persisted strong enough to not simply shake the collective psyche of his followers in the immediate wake of his passing, but too, those of followers-and-critics-to-be, who knew him not during his physical lifetime.
The reading of the story of Jesus assigned to this day (John 20:1-9) reveals to us a portrait of an empty tomb, where Jesus’ martyred body had just recently been laid to rest. If we ponder just there for a moment, without assuming anything dictated by tradition or subsequent reading of scripture, many questions may arise. Was Jesus’ body tactically moved for religious or political reasons? Was it stolen and/or desecrated? Was it indeed physically resurrected before ascending into the heavens in an event unique to history? Interestingly, Mark’s Gospel ends with no more than that image of an empty tomb, which is met with nothing but “trembling, bewilderment, silence, and fear” (Mark 16:8). Sobering.
This year, I find myself particularly taken with the emptiness of Jesus’ tomb. Emptiness of some sort or another seems to be a common experience in light of the recent events pertaining to the global pandemic we are still very much in the midst of. Most of us are quarantined from our wider families and communities, many of us are out of work, and the degrees of separation between ourselves and the millions directly affected by the coronavirus, be it by infection, recovery, or even death continue to lessen. Beyond this, early studies from Asia are painting a portrait of a virus that itself may be capable of defying death to the convention of immunity, be it by reactivation or reinfection. For many of us, the future might seem empty and bleak. We don’t know when, or even if, we will be able to return to any approximation of “normal.” Understandably, this emptiness born of uncertainty is too eliciting much “trembling, bewilderment, silence, and fear.”
Obviously, I was not a direct witness to the events surrounding the life, death, or seeming resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. If I am honest with myself, I note that neither I, nor anyone living today can claim any amount of certainty in describing or interpreting those events. What I have, however, is my rational mind, informed by much study of religious experience and praxis both within and beyond the scope of the Abrahamic traditions.
My rational mind tells me that it is quite unlikely that a corpse walked out of a cave, communed with friends shortly thereafter, and was subsequently lifted into the heavens. My rational mind does, however, find it completely plausible and likely that Jesus’ most beloved followers and empathetic onlookers eventually found meaning and purpose that defied even their wildest expectations in the uncertainty of the events that culminated in the emptiness of Jesus’ tomb.
That same rational mind tells me, then, that resurrection can transcend the seeming necessity of a wounded corpse returning to life on two legs. Indeed, resurrection doesn’t need to be a return to things as they were, to “normal” if you will. That’s a powerful message, that’s a hopeful message, and, perhaps most importantly, it’s a message and a hope validated by observation and experience, time and time again throughout history.
Right now, we’re living in the emptiness of the tomb- in the silence and fear, in the bewilderment and trembling of its unknowns. Our wildest hopes and expectations may be for a return to things as they have been, but I (and I suspect many of us) doubt that possibility as a probable one, especially within a timeframe of weeks or even months. I wonder, though, what will be the new normal that proceeds beyond this tomb?
I wonder what new and unexpected forms of meaning and purpose might arise within us as we continue seek (if even through mourning) the sacred, not just in the ways and places where it has traditionally been found, but where it may be, overlooked and unrecognized. Lest we forget, most all of the disciples and followers of Jesus failed to see him as he was following his physical disappearance (as they knew him to be), be it at the tomb, on the road to Emmaus, or in the home where the disciples had gathered and locked their doors in fear of the events going on in the world outside. That latter image, taken from John 20:19, seems particularly relevant to our current circumstances.
The tomb is empty friends, substantial change is afoot, and what once passed for normal and expected is no more. And yet, as observation and experience has shown to be true, time and time again, this too “is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad.”
Indeed, outside of the Judeo-Christian tradition, the Zen sage Yunmen has also offered that “everyday is a good day,” we can be with it as it is and see, or poke and prod like Thomas. The end result is inescapable, and almost always beyond our current conceptions of what is possible, endurable, and meaningful.
Alleluia and Amen. ~Sunyananda
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bluewatsons · 4 years
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Leon R. Kass, The Wisdom of Repugnance: Why We Should Ban the Cloning of Humans, 32 Val U L Rev 679 (1998)
I. Introduction
Our habit of delighting in news of scientific and technological breakthroughs has been sorely challenged by the birth announcement of a sheep named Dolly. Though Dolly shares with previous sheep the "softest clothing, woolly, bright," William Blake's question, "Little Lamb, who made thee?"' has for her a radically different answer: Dolly was, quite literally, made. She is the work not of nature or nature's God but of man, an Englishman, Ian Wilmut, and his fellow scientists. What's more, Dolly came into being not only asexually-ironically, just like "He [who] calls Himself a Lamb" 2-but also as the genetically identical copy (and the perfect incarnation of the form or blueprint) of a mature ewe, of whom she is a clone. This long-awaited yet not quite expected success in cloning a mammal raised immediately the prospect-and the specter-of cloning human beings: "I a child, and thou a lamb,"' despite our differences, have always been equal candidates for creative making, only now, by means of cloning, we may both spring from the hand of man playing at being God.
After an initial flurry of expert comment and public consternation, with opinion polls showing overwhelming opposition to cloning human beings, President Clinton ordered a ban on all federal support for human cloning research (even though none was being supported) and charged the National Bioethics Advisory Commission (NBAC or Commission) to report in ninety days on the ethics of human cloning research. The Commission (an eighteen-member panel, evenly balanced between scientists and non-scientists, appointed by the President and reporting to the National Science and Technology Council) invited testimony from scientists, religious thinkers, and bioethicists, as well as from the general public. In its report, issued in June, 1997, the Commission concluded that attempting to clone a human being was "at this time... morally unacceptable"; recommended continuing the President's moratorium on the use of federal funds to support the cloning of humans; and called for federal legislation to prohibit anyone from attempting (during the next three to five years) to create a child through cloning.'
Even before the Commission reported, Congress was poised to act. Bills to prohibit the use of federal funds for human cloning research have been introduced in the House of Representatives' and the Senate6 ; and one bill, in the House, would make it illegal "for any person to use a human somatic cell for the process of producing a human clone."' A fateful decision is at hand.
To clone or not to clone a human being is no longer an academic question.
II. Taking Cloning Seriously, Then and Now
Cloning first came to public attention roughly thirty years ago, following the successful asexual production, in England, of a clutch of tadpole clones by the technique of nuclear transplantation. The individual largely responsible for bringing the prospect and promise of human cloning to public notice was Joshua Lederberg, a Nobel Laureate geneticist and a man of large vision. In 1966, Lederberg wrote a remarkable article in The American Naturalistdetailing the eugenic advantages of human cloning and other forms of genetic engineering, and the following year he devoted a column in The Washington Post, where he wrote regularly on science and society, to the prospect of human cloning.' He suggested that cloning could help us overcome the unpredictable variety that still rules human reproduction and allow us to benefit from perpetuating superior genetic endowments. These writings sparked a small public debate in which I became a participant. At the time a young researcher in molecular biology at the National Institutes of Health (NIH), I wrote a reply to the Post, arguing against Lederberg's amoral treatment of this morally weighty subject and insisting on the urgency of confronting a series of questions and objections, culminating in the suggestion that "the programmed reproduction of man will, in fact, dehumanize him."'
Much has happened in the intervening years. It has become harder, not easier, to discern the true meaning of human cloning. We have in some sense been softened up to the idea-through movies, cartoons, jokes, and intermittent commentary in the mass media, some serious, most lighthearted. become accustomed to new practices in human reproduction: not just in vitro fertilization (IVF), but also embryo manipulation, embryo donation, and surrogate pregnancy. Animal biotechnology has yielded transgenic animals and a burgeoning science of genetic engineering, easily and soon to be transferable to humans.
Even more important, changes in the broader culture make it now vastly more difficult to express a common and respectful understanding of sexuality, procreation, nascent life, family, and the meaning of motherhood, fatherhood, and the links between the generations. Twenty-five years ago, abortion was still largely illegal and thought to be immoral, the sexual revolution (made possible by the extramarital use of the pill) was still in its infancy, and few had yet heard about the reproductive rights of single women, homosexual men, and lesbians. (Never mind shameless memoirs about one's own incest!) Then one could argue, without embarrassment, that the new technologies reproduction-babies without sex-and their confounding of normal kin relations (who is the mother: the egg donor, the surrogate who carries and delivers, or the one who rears?) would "undermine[] the justification and support which biological parenthood gives to the monogamous marriage. "'o Today, defenders of stable, monogamous marriage risk charges of giving offense to those adults who are living in "new family forms" or to those children who, even without the benefit of assisted reproduction, have acquired either three or four parents or one or none at all. Today, one must even apologize for voicing opinions that twenty-five years ago were nearly universally regarded as the core of our culture's wisdom on these matters. In a world whose once-given natural boundaries are blurred by technological change and whose moral boundaries are seemingly up for grabs, it is much more difficult to make persuasive the still-compelling case against cloning human beings. As Raskolnikov put it, "man gets used to everything-the beast!""
Indeed, perhaps the most depressing feature of the discussions that immediately followed the news about Dolly was their ironical tone, their genial cynicism, their moral fatigue: An Udder Way of Making Lambs, 12 Who Will Cash in on Breakthrough in Cloning?,'13 and Is Cloning a Baaad Idea?"4 Gone from the scene are the wise and courageous voices of Theodosius Dobzhansky (genetics), Hans Jonas (philosophy), and Paul Ramsey (theology) who, only twenty-five years ago, all made powerful moral arguments against ever cloning a human being. 5 We are now too sophisticated for such argumentation; we wouldn't be caught in public with a strong moral stance, never mind an absolutist one. We are all, or almost all, post-modernists now.
Cloning turns out to be the perfect embodiment of the ruling opinions of our new age. Thanks to the sexual revolution, we are able to deny in practice, and increasingly in thought, the inherent procreative teleology of sexuality itself. But, if sex has no intrinsic connection to generating babies, babies need have no necessary connection to sex. Thanks to feminism and the gay rights movement,  we are increasingly encouraged to treat the natural heterosexual difference and its preeminence as a matter of "cultural construction." But if male and female are not normatively complementary and generatively significant, babies need not come from male and female complementarity. Thanks to the prominence and acceptability of divorce and out-of-wedlock births, stable, monogamous marriage as the ideal home for procreation is no longer the agreed-upon cultural norm. For this new dispensation, the clone is the ideal emblem: the ultimate "single-parent child."
Thanks to our belief that all children should be wanted children (the more high-minded principle we use to justify contraception and abortion), sooner or later only those children who fulfill our wants will be fully acceptable. Through cloning, we can work our wants and wills on the very identity of our children, exercising control as never before. Thanks to modem notions of individualism and the rate of cultural change, we see ourselves not as linked to ancestors and defined by traditions, but as projects for our own self-creation, not only as self-made men but also man-made selves; and self-cloning is simply an extension of such rootless and narcissistic self-re-creation.
Unwilling to acknowledge our debt to the past and unwilling to embrace the uncertainties and the limitations of the future, we have a false relation to both: cloning personifies our desire fully to control the future, while being subject to no controls ourselves. Enchanted and enslaved by the glamour of technology, we have lost our awe and wonder before the deep mysteries of nature and of life. We cheerfully take our own beginnings in our hands and, like the last man, we blink.
Part of the blame for our complacency lies, sadly, with the field of bioethics itself, and its claim to expertise in these moral matters. Bioethics was founded by people who understood that the new biology touched and threatened the deepest matters of our humanity: bodily integrity, identity and individuality, lineage and kinship, freedom and self-command, eros and aspiration, and the relations and strivings of body and soul. With its capture by analytic philosophy, however, and its inevitable routinization and professionalization, the field has by and large come to content itself with analyzing moral arguments, reacting to new technological developments, and taking on emerging issues of public policy, all performed with a naive faith that the evils we fear can all be avoided by compassion, regulation, and a respect for autonomy. Bioethics has made some major contributions in the protection of human subjects and in other areas where personal freedom is threatened; but its practitioners, with few exceptions, have turned the big human questions into pretty thin gruel.
One reason for this is that the piecemeal formation of public policy tends to grind down large questions of morals into small questions of procedure. Many of the country's leading bioethicists have served on national commissions or state task forces and advisory boards, where, understandably, they have found utilitarianism to be the only ethical vocabulary acceptable to all participants in discussing issues of law, regulation, and public policy. As many of these commissions have been either officially under the aegis of NIH or the Health and Human Services Department, or otherwise dominated by powerful voices for scientific progress, the ethicists have for the most part been content, after some "values clarification" and wringing of hands, to pronounce their blessings upon the inevitable. Indeed, it is the bioethicists, not the scientists, who are now the most articulate defenders of human cloning: the two witnesses testifying before the NBAC in favor of cloning human beings were bioethicists, 6 eager to rebut what they regard as the irrational concerns of those of us in opposition. We have come to expect from the "experts" an accommodationist ethic that will rubber-stamp all biomedical innovation, in the mistaken belief that all other goods must bow down before the gods of better health and scientific advance. Regrettably, as we shall see near the end of this Article, the report of the present Commission, though better than its predecessors, is finally not an exception.
If we are to correct our moral myopia, we must first of all persuade ourselves not to be complacent about what is at issue here. Human cloning, though it is in some respects continuous with previous reproductive technologies, also represents something radically new, in itself and in its easily foreseeable consequences. The stakes are very high indeed. I exaggerate, but in the direction of the truth, when I insist that we are faced with having to decide nothing less than whether human procreation is going to remain human, whether children are going to be made rather than begotten, whether it is a good thing, humanly speaking, to say yes in principle to the road which leads (at best) to the dehumanized rationality of Brave New World. 7 This is not business as usual, to be fretted about for a while but finally to be given our seal of approval. We must rise to the occasion and make our judgments as if the future of our humanity hangs in the balance. For so it does.
III. The State of the Art
If we should not underestimate the significance of human cloning, neither should we exaggerate its imminence or misunderstand just what is involved. The procedure is conceptually simple. The nucleus of a mature but unfertilized egg is removed and replaced with a nucleus obtained from a specialized cell of an adult (or fetal) organism (in Dolly's case, the donor nucleus came from mammary gland epithelium). Because almost all the hereditary material of a cell is contained within its nucleus, the renucleated egg and the individual into which this egg develops are genetically identical to the organism that was the source of the transferred nucleus. An unlimited number of genetically identical individuals-clones-could be produced by nuclear transfer. In principle, any person, male or female, newborn or adult, could be cloned, and in any quantity. With laboratory cultivation and storage of tissues, cells outliving their sources make it possible even to clone the dead.
The technical stumbling block, overcome by Wilmut and his colleagues, was to find a means of reprogramming the state of the DNA in the donor cells, reversing its differentiated expression and restoring its full totipotency, so that it could again direct the entire process of producing a mature organism. Now that this problem has been solved, we should expect a rush to develop cloning for other animals, especially livestock, in order to propagate in perpetuity the champion meat or milk producers. Though exactly how soon someone will succeed in cloning a human being is anybody's guess, Wilmut's technique, almost certainly applicable to humans, makes attempting the feat an imminent possibility.
Yet some cautions are in order, and some possible misconceptions need correcting. For a start, cloning is not Xeroxing. As has been reassuringly reiterated, the clone of Mel Gibson, though his genetic double, would enter the world hairless, toothless, and peeing in his diapers, just like any other human infant. Moreover, the success rate, at least at first, will probably not be very high: the British scientists transferred 277 adult nuclei into enucleated sheep eggs, and implanted twenty-nine clonal embryos, but they achieved the birth of only one live lamb clone. For this reason, among others, it is unlikely that, at least for now, the practice would be very popular, and there is no immediate worry of mass-scale production of multicopies. The need of repeated surgery to obtain eggs and, more crucially, of numerous borrowed wombs for implantation will surely limit use, as will the expense; besides, almost everyone who is able will doubtless prefer nature's sexier way of conceiving.
Still, for the tens of thousands of people already sustaining over 200 assisted-reproduction clinics in the United States and already availing themselves of IVF, intracytoplasmic sperm injection, and other techniques of assisted reproduction, cloning would be an option with virtually no added fuss (especially when the success rate improves). Should commercial interests develop in "nucleus-banking," as they have in sperm-banking; should famous athletes or other celebrities decide to market their DNA the way they now market their autographs and just about everything else; should techniques of embryo and germline genetic testing and manipulation arrive as anticipated, increasing the use of laboratory assistance in order to obtain "better" babies-should all this come to pass, then cloning, if it is permitted, could become more than a marginal practice simply on the basis of free reproductive choice, even without any social encouragement to upgrade the gene pool or to replicate superior types. Moreover, if laboratory research on human cloning proceeds, even without any intention to produce cloned humans, the existence of cloned humans would surely pave the way for later baby-making implantations.
In anticipation of human cloning, apologists and proponents have already made clear possible uses of the perfected technology, ranging from the sentimental and compassionate to the grandiose. They include: providing a child for an infertile couple; "replacing" a beloved spouse or child who is dying or has died; avoiding the risk of genetic disease; permitting reproduction for homosexual men and lesbians who want nothing sexual to do with the opposite sex; securing a genetically identical source of organs or tissues perfectly suitable for transplantation; getting a child with a genotype of one's own choosing, not excluding oneself; replicating individuals of great genius, talent, or beauty-having a child who really could "be like Mike"; and creating large sets of genetically identical humans suitable for research on, for instance, the question of nature versus nurture, or for special missions in peace and war (not excluding espionage), in which using identical humans would be an advantage. Most people who envision the cloning of human beings, of course, want none of these scenarios. That they cannot say why is not surprising. What is surprising, and welcome, is that, in our cynical age, they are saying anything at all.
IV. The Wisdom of Repugnance
"Offensive." "Grotesque." "Revolting." "Repugnant." "Repulsive." These are the words most commonly heard regarding the prospect of human cloning. Such reactions come both from the man or woman in the street and from intellectuals, from believers and atheists, from humanists and scientists. Even Dolly's creator has said he "would find it offensive"" to clone a human being.
People are repelled by many aspects of human cloning. They recoil from the prospect of the mass production of human beings, with large clones of look-alikes, compromised in their individuality; the idea of father-son or mother-daughter twins; the bizarre prospects of a woman giving birth to and rearing a genetic copy of herself, her spouse, or even her deceased father or mother; the grotesqueness of conceiving a child as an exact replacement for another who has died; the utilitarian creation of embryonic genetic duplicates of oneself, to be frozen away or created when necessary, in case of need for homologous tissues or organs for transplantation; the narcissism of those who would clone themselves and the arrogance of others who think they know who deserves to be cloned or which genotype any child-to-be should be thrilled to receive; the Frankensteinian hubris to create human life and increasingly to control its destiny; man playing God. Almost no one finds any of the suggested reasons for human cloning compelling; almost everyone anticipates its possible misuses and abuses. Moreover, many people feel oppressed by the sense that there is probably nothing we can do to prevent it from happening. This makes the prospect all the more revolting.
Revulsion is not an argument; and some of yesterday's repugnances are today calmly accepted-though, one must add, not always for the better. In crucial cases, however, repugnance is the emotional expression of deep wisdom, beyond reason's power fully to articulate it. Can anyone really give an argument fully adequate to the horror which is father-daughter incest (even with consent), or having sex with animals, or mutilating a corpse, or eating human flesh, or even just (just!) raping or murdering another human being? Would anybody's failure to give full rational justification for his or her revulsion at these practices make that revulsion ethically suspect? Not at all. On the contrary, we are suspicious of those who think that they can rationalize away our horror, say, by trying to explain the enormity of incest with arguments only about the genetic risks of inbreeding.
Our repugnance at human cloning belongs in this category. repelled by the prospect of cloning human beings not because of the strangeness or novelty of the undertaking, but because we intuit and feel, immediately and without argument, the violation of things that we rightfully hold dear. Repugnance, here as elsewhere, revolts against the excesses of human willfulness, warning us not to transgress what is unspeakably profound. Indeed, in this age in which everything is held to be permissible so long as it is freely done, in which our given human nature no longer commands respect, in which our bodies are regarded as mere instruments of our autonomous rational wills, repugnance may be the only voice left that speaks up to defend the central core  of our humanity. Shallow are the souls that have forgotten how to shudder.
The goods protected by repugnance are generally overlooked by our customary ways of approaching all new biomedical technologies. The way we evaluate cloning ethically will in fact be shaped by how we characterize it descriptively, by the context into which we place it, and by the perspective from which we view it. The first task for ethics is proper description. And here is where our failure begins.
Typically, cloning is discussed in one or more of three familiar contexts, which one might call the technological, the liberal, and the meliorist. Under the first, cloning will be seen as an extension of existing techniques for assisting reproduction and determining the genetic makeup of children. Like them,  cloning is to be regarded as a neutral technique, with no inherent meaning or goodness, but subject to multiple uses, some good, some bad. The morality of cloning thus depends absolutely on the goodness or badness of the motives and intentions of the cloners: as one bioethicist defender of cloning puts it, "The ethics . . must be judged [only] by the way . .. the parents nurture and rear their resulting child and whether they bestow the same love and affection on a child brought into existence by a technique of assisted reproduction as they would on a child born in the usual way." 19
The liberal (or libertarian or liberationist) perspective sets cloning in the context of rights, freedoms, and personal empowerment. Cloning is just a new option for exercising an individual's right to reproduce or to have the kind of child that he or she wants. Alternatively, cloning enhances our liberation (especially women's liberation) from the confines of nature, the vagaries of chance, or the necessity for sexual mating. Indeed, it liberates women from the need for men altogether, for the process requires only eggs, nuclei, and (for the time being) uteri-plus, of course, a healthy dose of our (allegedly "masculine") manipulative science that likes to do all these things to Mother Nature and nature's mothers. For those who hold this outlook, the only moral restraints on cloning are adequately informed consent and the avoidance of bodily harm. If no one is cloned without her consent, and if the clonant is not physically damaged, then the liberal conditions for licit, hence moral, conduct are met. Worries that go beyond violating the will or maiming the body are dismissed as "symbolic"-which is to say, "unreal."
The meliorist perspective embraces valetudinarians and also eugenicists. The latter were formerly more vocal in these discussions, but they are now generally happy to see their goals advanced under the less threatening banners of freedom and technological growth. These people see in cloning a new prospect for improving human beings-minimally, by ensuring the perpetuation of healthy individuals by avoiding the risks of genetic disease inherent in the lottery of sex, and maximally, by producing "optimum babies," preserving outstanding genetic material, and (with the help of soon-to-come techniques for precise genetic engineering) enhancing inborn human capacities on many fronts. Here the morality of cloning as a means is justified solely by the excellence of the end, that is, by the outstanding traits or individuals cloned-beauty, or brawn, or brains.
These three approaches, all quintessentially American and all perfectly fine in their places, are sorely wanting as approaches to human procreation. It is, to say the least, grossly distorting to view the wondrous mysteries of birth, renewal, and individuality, and the deep meaning of parent-child relations, largely through the lens of our reductive science and its potent technologies. Similarly, considering reproduction (and the intimate relations of family life!) primarily under the political-legal, adversarial, and individualistic notion of rights can only undermine the private yet fundamentally social, cooperative, and duty-laden character of child-bearing, child-rearing, and their bond to the covenant of marriage. Seeking to escape entirely from nature (in order to satisfy a natural desire or natural right to reproduce!) is self-contradictory in theory and self-alienating in practice. For we are erotic beings only because we are embodied beings, and not merely intellects and wills unfortunately imprisoned in our bodies. And, though health and fitness are clearly great goods, there is something deeply disquieting in looking on our prospective children as artful products perfectible by genetic engineering, increasingly held renewal, and individuality, and the deep meaning of parent-child relations, largely through the lens of our reductive science and its potent technologies. Similarly, considering reproduction (and the intimate relations of family life!) primarily under the political-legal, adversarial, and individualistic notion of rights can only undermine the private yet fundamentally social, cooperative, and duty-laden character of child-bearing, child-rearing, and their bond to the covenant of marriage. Seeking to escape entirely from nature (in order to satisfy a natural desire or natural right to reproduce!) is self-contradictory in theory and self-alienating in practice. For we are erotic beings only because we are embodied beings, and not merely intellects and wills unfortunately imprisoned in our bodies. And, though health and fitness are clearly great goods, there is something deeply disquieting in looking on our prospective children as artful products perfectible by genetic engineering, increasingly held to our willfully imposed designs, specifications, and margins of tolerable error.
The technical, liberal, and meliorist approaches all ignore the deeper anthropological, social, and, indeed, ontological meanings of bringing forth new life. To this more fitting and profound point of view, cloning shows itself to be a major alteration, indeed, a major violation, of our given nature as embodied, gendered, and engendering beings-and of the social relations built on this natural ground. Once this perspective is recognized, the ethical judgment on cloning can no longer be reduced to a matter of motives and intentions, rights and freedoms, benefits and harms, or even means and ends. It must be regarded primarily as a matter of meaning: Is cloning a fulfillment of human begetting and belonging? Or is cloning rather, as I contend, their pollution and perversion? To pollution and perversion, the fitting response can only be horror and revulsion; and conversely, generalized horror and revulsion areprimafacie evidence of foulness and violation. The burden of moral argument must fall entirely on those who want to declare the widespread repugnances of humankind to be mere timidity or superstition.
Yet repugnance need not stand naked before the bar of reason. The wisdom of our horror at human cloning can be partially articulated, even if this is finally one of those instances about which the heart has its reasons that reason cannot entirely know.
V. The Profundity of Sex
To see cloning in its proper context, we must begin not, as I did before, with laboratory technique, but with the anthropology-natural and social-of sexual reproduction. Sexual reproduction-by which I mean the generation of new life from (exactly) two complementary elements, one female, one male, (usually) through coitus-is established (if that is the right term) not by human decision, culture, or tradition, but by nature; it is the natural way of all mammalian reproduction. By nature, each child has two complementary biological progenitors. Each child thus stems from and unites exactly two lineages. In natural generation, moreover, the precise genetic constitution of the resulting offspring is determined by a combination of nature and chance, not by human design: each human child shares the common natural human species genotype, each child is genetically (equally) kin to each (both) parent(s), yet each child is also genetically unique.
These biological truths about our origins foretell deep truths about our identity and about our human condition altogether. Every one of us is at once equally human, equally enmeshed in a particular familial nexus of origin, and equally individuated in our trajectory from birth to death-and, if all goes well, equally capable (despite our mortality) of participating, with a complementary other, in the very same renewal of such human possibility through procreation. Though less momentous than our common humanity, our genetic individuality is not humanly trivial. It shows itself forth in our distinctive appearance through which we are everywhere recognized; it is revealed in our "signature" marks of fingerprints and our self-recognizing immune system; it symbolizes and foreshadows exactly the unique, never-to-be repeated character of each human life.
Human societies virtually everywhere have structured child-rearing responsibilities and systems of identity and relationship on the bases of these deep natural facts of begetting. The mysterious yet ubiquitous natural "love of one's own" is everywhere culturally exploited, to make sure that children are not just produced but well cared for and to create for everyone clear ties of meaning, belonging, and obligation. But it is wrong to treat such naturally rooted social practices as mere cultural constructs (like left- or right-driving, or like burying or cremating the dead) that we can alter with little human cost. What would kinship be without its clear natural grounding? And what would identity be without kinship? We must resist those who have begun to refer to sexual reproduction as the "traditional method of reproduction,"2" who would have us regard as merely traditional, and by implication arbitrary, what is in truth not only natural but most certainly profound.
Asexual reproduction, which produces "single-parent" offspring, is a radical departure from the natural human way, confounding all normal understandings of father, mother, sibling, grandparent, etc., and all moral relations tied thereto. It becomes even more of a radical departure when the resulting offspring is a clone derived not from an embryo, but from a mature adult to whom it would be an identical twin; and when the process occurs not by natural accident (as in natural twinning), but by deliberate human design and manipulation; and when the child's (or children's) genetic constitution is pre-selected by the parent(s) (or scientists). Accordingly, as we will see, cloning is vulnerable to three kinds of concerns and objections, related to these three points: cloning threatens confusion of identity and individuality, even in small-scale cloning; cloning represents a giant step (though not the first one) toward transforming procreation into manufacture, that is, toward the increasing depersonalization of the process of generation and, increasingly, toward the "production" of human children as artifacts, products of human will and design (what others have called the problem of "commodification" of new life); and cloning-like other forms of eugenic engineering of the next generation-represents a form of despotism of the cloners over the cloned, and thus (even in benevolent cases) represents a blatant violation of the inner meaning of parent-child relations, of what it means to have a child, of what it means to say "yes" to our own demise and "replacement."
Before turning to these specific ethical objections, let me test my claim of the profundity of the natural way by taking up a challenge recently posed by a friend. What if the given natural human way of reproduction were asexual, and we now had to deal with a new technological innovation-artificially induced sexual dimorphism and the fusing of complementary gametes-whose inventors argued that sexual reproduction promised all sorts of advantages, including hybrid vigor and the creation of greatly increased individuality? Would one then be forced to defend natural asexuality because it was natural? Could one claim that it carried deep human meaning?
The response to this challenge broaches the ontological meaning of sexual reproduction. For it is impossible, I submit, for there to have been human life-or even higher forms of animal life-in the absence of sexuality and sexual reproduction. We find asexual reproduction only in the lowest forms of life: bacteria, algae, fungi, some lower invertebrates. Sexuality brings with it a new and enriched relationship to the world. Only sexual animals can seek and find complementary others with whom to pursue a goal that transcends their own existence. For a sexual being, the world is no longer an indifferent and largely homogeneous otherness, in part edible, in part dangerous. It also contains some very special and related and complementary beings, of the same kind but of opposite sex, toward whom one reaches out with special interest and intensity. In higher birds and mammals, the outward gaze keeps a lookout not only for food and predators, but also for prospective mates; the beholding of the many splendored world is suffused with desire for union, the animal antecedent of human eros and the germ of sociality. Not by accident is the human animal both the sexiest animal-whose females do not go into heat but are receptive throughout the estrous cycle and whose males must therefore have greater sexual appetite and energy in order to reproduce successfully-and also the most aspiring, the most social, the most open, and the most intelligent animal.
The soul-elevating power of sexuality is, at bottom, rooted in its strange connection to mortality, which it simultaneously accepts and tries to overcome. Asexual reproduction may be seen as a continuation of the activity of self-preservation. When one organism buds or divides to become two, the original being is (doubly) preserved, and nothing dies. Sexuality, by contrast, means perishability and serves replacement; the two that come together to generate one soon will die. Sexual desire, in human beings as in animals, thus serves an end that is partly hidden from, and finally at odds with, the self-serving individual. Whether we know it or not, when we are sexually active, we are voting with our genitalia for our own demise. The salmon swimming upstream to spawn and die tell the universal story: sex is bound up with death, to which it holds a partial answer in procreation.
The salmon and the other animals evince this truth blindly. Only the human being can understand what it means. As we learn so powerfully from the story of the Garden of Eden, our humanization is coincident with sexual self-consciousness, with the recognition of our sexual nakedness and all that it implies: shame at our needy incompleteness, unruly self-division, and finitude; awe before the eternal; hope in the self-transcending possibilities of children and a relationship to the divine. In the sexually self-conscious animal, sexual desire can become eros, lust can become love. Sexual desire humanly regarded is thus sublimated into erotic longing for wholeness, completion, and immortality, which drives us knowingly into the embrace and its generative fruit-as well as into all the higher human possibilities of deed, speech, and song.
Through children, a good common to both husband and wife, male and female achieve some genuine unification (beyond the mere sexual "union," which fails to do so). The two become one through sharing generous (not needy) love for this third being as good. Flesh of their flesh, the child is the parents' own commingled being externalized and given a separate and persisting existence. Unification is enhanced also by their commingled work of rearing. Providing an opening to the future beyond the grave, carrying not only our seed but also our names, our ways and our hopes that they will surpass us in goodness and happiness, children are a testament to the possibility of transcendence. Gender duality and sexual desire, which first draws our love upward and outside of ourselves, finally provide for the partial overcoming of the confinement and limitation of perishable embodiment altogether.
Human procreation, in sum, is thus not simply an activity of our rational wills. It is a more complete activity precisely because it engages us bodily, erotically, and spiritually, as well as rationally. There is wisdom in the mystery of nature that has joined the pleasure of sex, the inarticulate longing for union, the communication of the loving embrace, and the deep-seated and only partly articulate desire for children in the very activity by which we continue the chain of human existence and participate in the renewal of human possibility. Whether or not we know it, the severing of procreation from sex, love, and intimacy is inherently dehumanizing, no matter how good the product.
We are now ready for the more specific objections to cloning.
VI. The Perversities of Cloning
First, an important if formal objection: any attempt to clone a human being would constitute an unethical experiment upon the resulting child-to-be. As the animal experiments (frog and sheep) indicate, there are grave risks of mishaps and deformities. Moreover, because of what cloning means, one cannot presume a future cloned child's consent to be a clone, even a healthy one. Thus, ethically speaking, we cannot even get to know whether human cloning is feasible.
I understand, of course, the philosophical difficulty of trying to compare a life with defects against nonexistence. Several bioethicists, proud of their philosophical cleverness, use this conundrum to embarrass claims that one can injure a child in its conception, precisely because it is only thanks to that complained-of conception that the child is alive to complain. But common sense tells us that we have no reason to fear such philosophisms. For we surely know that people can harm and even maim children in the very act of conceiving them, say, by paternal transmission of the AIDS virus, maternal transmission of heroin dependence, or, arguably, even by bringing them into being as bastards or with no capacity or willingness to look after them properly. And we believe that to do this intentionally, or even negligently, is inexcusable and clearly unethical.
The objection about the impossibility of presuming consent may even go beyond the obvious and sufficient point that a clonant, were he subsequently to be asked, could rightly resent having been made a clone. At issue are not just benefits and harms, but doubts about the very independence needed to give proper (even retroactive) consent, that is, not just the capacity to choose but the disposition and ability to choose freely and well. It is not at all clear to what extent a clone will truly be a moral agent. For, as we shall see, in the very act
of cloning and of rearing him as a clone, his makers subvert the cloned child's independence, beginning with that aspect that comes from knowing that one was an unbidden surprise, a gift, to the world rather than the designed result of someone's artful project.
Cloning creates serious issues of identity and individuality. The cloned person may experience concerns about his distinctive identity not only because he will be in genotype and appearance identical to another human being, but, in this case, because he may also be twin to the person who is his "father" or "mother"-if one can still call them that. What would be the psychic burdens of being the "child" or "parent" of your twin? The cloned individual, moreover, will be saddled with a genotype that has already lived. He will not be fully a surprise to the world. People are likely always to compare his performances in life with that of his alter ego. True, his nurture and circumstance in life will be different; genotype is not exactly destiny. Still, one must also expect parental and other efforts to shape this new life after the original-or at least to view the child with the original version always firmly in mind. Why else did they clone from the star basketball player, mathematician, and beauty queen-or even dear old Dad-in the first place?
Since the birth of Dolly, there has been a fair amount of doublespeak on this matter of genetic identity. Experts have rushed in to reassure the public that the clone would in no way be the same person, or have any confusions about his or her identity: as previously noted, they are pleased to point out that the clone of Mel Gibson would not be Mel Gibson. Fair enough. But one is shortchanging the truth by emphasizing the additional importance of the intrauterine environment, rearing, and social setting: genotype obviously matters plenty. That, after all, is the only reason to clone, whether human beings or sheep. The odds that clones of Wilt Chamberlain will play in the NBA are, I submit, infinitely greater than they are for clones of Robert Reich.
Curiously, this conclusion is supported, inadvertently, by the one ethical sticking point insisted on by friends of cloning: no cloning without the donor's consent. Though an orthodox liberal objection, it is in fact quite puzzling when it comes from people (such as Ruth Macklin") who also insist that genotype is not identity or individuality, and who deny that a child could reasonably complain about being made a genetic copy. If the clone of Mel Gibson would not be Mel Gibson, why should Mel Gibson have grounds to object that someone had been made his clone? We already allow researchers to use blood and tissue samples for research purposes of no benefit to their sources: my falling hair, my expectorations, my urine, and even my biopsied tissues are "not me" and not mine. Courts have held that the profit gained from uses to which scientists put my discarded tissues do not legally belong to me.2 Why, then, no cloning without consent- not including, I assume, no cloning from the body of someone who just died? What harm is done the donor, if genotype is "not me"? Truth to tell, the only powerful justification for objecting is that genotype really does have something to do with identity, and everybody knows it. If not, on what basis could Michael Jordan object that someone cloned "him," say, from cells taken from a "lost," scraped-off piece of his skin? The insistence on donor consent unwittingly reveals the problem of identity in all cloning.
Genetic distinctiveness not only symbolizes the uniqueness of each human life and the independence of its parents that each human child rightfully attains; it can also be an important support for living a worthy and dignified life. Such arguments apply with great force to any large-scale replication of human individuals. But they are sufficient, in my view, to rebut even the first attempts to clone a human being. One must never forget that these are human beings upon whom our eugenic or merely playful fantasies are to be enacted.
Troubled psychic identity (distinctiveness), based on all-too-evident genetic identity (sameness), will be made much worse by the utter confusion of social identity and kinship ties. For, as already noted, cloning radically confounds lineage and social relations, for "offspring" as for "parents." As bioethicist James Nelson has pointed out, a female child cloned from her "mother" might develop a desire for a relationship to her "father," and might understandably seek out the father of her "mother," who is after all also her biological twin sister.23 Would "grandpa," who thought his paternal duties concluded, be pleased to discover that the clonant looked to him for paternal attention and support?
Social identity and social ties of relationship and responsibility are widely connected to, and supported by, biological kinship. Social taboos on incest (and adultery) everywhere serve to keep clear who is related to whom (and especially which child belongs to which parents), as well as to avoid confounding the social identity of parent-and-child (or brother-and-sister) with the social identity of lovers, spouses, and co-parents. True, social identity is altered by adoption (but as a matter of the best interest of already living children: we do not deliberately produce children for adoption). True, artificial insemination and IVF with donor sperm, or whole embryo donation, are in some way forms of "prenatal adoption"-a not altogether unproblematic practice. Even here, though, there is in each case (as in all sexual reproduction) a known male source of sperm and a known single female source of egg-a genetic father and a genetic mother-should anyone care to know (as adopted children often do) who is genetically related to whom.
In the case of cloning, however, there is but one "parent." The usually sad situation of the "single-parent child" is here deliberately planned, and with a vengeance. In the case of self-cloning, the "offspring" is, in addition, one's twin; and so the dreaded result of incest-to be parent to one's sibling-is here brought about deliberately, albeit without any act of coitus. Moreover, all other relationships will be confounded. What will father, grandfather, aunt, cousin, sister mean? Who will bear what ties and what burdens? What sort of social identity will someone have with one whole side-"father's" or "mother's"-necessarily excluded? It is no answer to say that our society, with
its high incidence of divorce, remarriage, adoption, extramarital childbearing, and the rest, already confounds lineage and confuses kinship and responsibility for children (and everyone else), unless one also wants to argue that this is, for children, a preferable state of affairs.
Human cloning would also represent a giant step toward turning begetting into making, procreation into manufacture (literally, something "handmade"), a process already begun with IVF and genetic testing of embryos. With cloning, not only is the process in hand, but the total genetic blueprint of the cloned individual is selected and determined by the human artisans. To be sure, subsequent development will take place according to natural processes; and the resulting children will still be recognizably human. But we here would be taking a major step into making man himself simply another one of the man-made things. Human nature becomes merely the last part of nature to succumb to the technological project, which turns all of nature into raw material at human disposal, to be homogenized by our rationalized technique according to the subjective prejudices of the day.
How does begetting differ from making? In natural procreation, human beings come together, complementarily male and female, to give existence to another being who is formed, exactly as we were, by what we are: living, hence perishable, hence aspiringly erotic, human beings. In clonal reproduction, by contrast, and in the more advanced forms of manufacture to which it leads, we give existence to a being not by what we are but by what we intend and design. As with any product of our making, no matter how excellent, the artificer stands above it, not as an equal but as a superior, transcending it by his will and creative prowess. Scientists who clone animals make it perfectly clear that they are engaged in instrumental making; the animals are, from the start, designed as means to serve rational human purposes. In human cloning, scientists and prospective "parents" would be adopting the same technocratic mentality to human children: human children would be their artifacts.
Such an arrangement is profoundly dehumanizing, no matter how good the product. Mass-scale cloning of the same individual makes the point vividly, but the violation of human equality, freedom, and dignity are present even in a single planned clone. And procreation dehumanized into manufacture is further degraded by commodification, a virtually inescapable result of allowing baby-making to proceed under the banner of commerce. Genetic and reproductive biotechnology companies are already growth industries, but they will go into commercial orbit once the Human Genome Project nears completion. Supply will create enormous demand. Even before the capacity for human cloning arrives, established companies will have invested in the harvesting of eggs from ovaries obtained at autopsy or through ovarian surgery, practiced embryonic genetic alteration, and initiated the stockpiling of prospective donor tissues. Through the rental of surrogate-womb services, and through the buying and selling of tissues and embryos, priced according to the merit of the donor, the commodification of nascent human life will be unstoppable.
Finally, and perhaps most important, the practice of human cloning by nuclear transfer-like other anticipated forms of genetic engineering of the next generation-would enshrine and aggravate a profound and mischievous misunderstanding of the meaning of having children and of the parent-child relationship. When a couple now chooses to procreate, the partners are saying yes to the emergence of new life in its novelty, saying yes not only to having a child but also, tacitly, to having whatever child this child turns out to be. In accepting our finitude and opening ourselves to our replacement, we are tacitly confessing the limits of our control. In this ubiquitous way of nature, embracing the future by procreating means precisely that we are relinquishing our grip, in the very activity of taking up our own share in what we hope will be the immortality of human life and the human species. This means that our children are not our children: they are not our property, not our possessions. Neither are they supposed to live our lives for us, or anyone else's lives but their own. To be sure, we seek to guide them on their way, imparting to them not just life but nurturing, love, and a way of life; to be sure, they bear our hopes that they will live fine and flourishing lives, enabling us in small measure to transcend our own limitations. Still, their genetic distinctiveness and independence are the natural foreshadowing of the deep truth that they have their own and never-before-enacted life to live. They are sprung from a past, but they take an uncharted course into the future.
Much harm is already done by parents who try to live vicariously through their children. Children are sometimes compelled to fulfill the broken dreams of unhappy parents; John Doe, Jr. or the III is under the burden of having to live up to his forebear's name. Still, if most parents have hopes for their children, cloning parents will have expectations. In cloning, such overbearing parents take at the start a decisive step which contradicts the entire meaning of the open and forward-looking nature of parent-child relations. The child is given a genotype that has already lived, with full expectation that this blueprint of a past life ought to be controlling of the life that is to come. Cloning is inherently despotic, for it seeks to make one's children (or someone else's children) after one's own image (or an image of one's choosing) and their future according to one's will. In some cases, the despotism may be mild and benevolent. In other cases, it will be mischievous and downright tyrannical. But despotism-the control of another through one's will-it inevitably will be.
VII. Meeting Some Objections
The defenders of cloning, of course, are not wittingly friends of despotism. Indeed, they regard themselves mainly as friends of freedom: the freedom of individuals to reproduce, and the freedom of scientists and inventors to discover and devise and to foster "progress" in genetic knowledge and technique. They want large-scale cloning only for animals, but they wish to preserve cloning as a human option for exercising our "right to reproduce"-our right to have children, and children with "desirable genes." As law professor John Robertson points out, under our "right to reproduce," we already practice early forms of unnatural, artificial, and extra-marital reproduction, and we already practice early forms of eugenic choice.2 For this reason, he argues, cloning is no big deal.
We have here a perfect example of the logic of the slippery slope, and the slippery way in which it already works in this area. Only a few years ago, slippery slope arguments were used to oppose artificial insemination and IVF using unrelated sperm donors. Principles used to justify these practices, it was said, will be used to justify more artificial and more eugenic practices, including cloning. Not so, the defenders retorted, because we can make the necessary distinctions. And now, without even a gesture at making the necessary distinctions, the continuity of practice is held by itself to be justificatory.
The principle of reproductive freedom as currently enunciated by the proponents of cloning logically embraces the ethical acceptability of sliding down the entire rest of the slope-to producing children ectogenetically from sperm to term (should it become feasible) and to producing children whose entire genetic makeup will be the product of parental eugenic planning and choice. If reproductive freedom means the right to have a child of one's own choosing, by whatever means, it knows and accepts no limits.
But, far from being legitimated by a "right to reproduce," the emergence of techniques of assisted reproduction and genetic engineering should compel us to reconsider the meaning and limits of such a putative right. In truth, a "right to reproduce" has always been a peculiar and problematic notion. Rights generally belong to individuals, but this is a right which (before cloning) no one can exercise alone. Does the right then inhere only in couples? Only in married couples? Is it a (woman's) right to carry or deliver or a right (of one or more parents) to nurture and rear? Is it a right to have your own biological child? Is it a right only to attempt reproduction, or a right also to succeed? Is it a right to acquire the baby of one's choice?
The assertion of a negative "right to reproduce" certainly makes sense when it claims protection against state interference with procreative liberty, say, through a program of compulsory sterilization. But surely it cannot be the basis of a tort claim against nature, to be made good by technology, should free efforts at natural procreation fail. Some insist that the right to reproduce embraces also the right against state interference with the free use of all technological means to obtain a child. Yet such a position cannot be sustained: for reasons having to do with the means employed, any community may rightfully prohibit surrogate pregnancy, or polygamy, or the sale of babies to infertile couples, without violating anyone's basic human "right to reproduce." When the exercise of a previously innocuous freedom now involves or impinges on troublesome practices that the original freedom never was intended to reach, the general presumption of liberty needs to be reconsidered.
We do indeed already practice negative eugenic selection, through genetic screening and prenatal diagnosis. Yet our practices are governed by a norm of health. We seek to prevent the birth of children who suffer from known (serious) genetic diseases. When and if gene therapy becomes possible, such diseases could then be treated, in utero or even before implantation-I have no ethical objection in principle to such a practice (though I have some practical
worries), precisely because it serves the medical goal of healing existing individuals. But therapy, to be therapy, implies not only an existing "patient," it also implies a norm of health. In this respect, even germline gene "therapy," though practiced not on a human being but on egg and sperm, is less radical than cloning, which is in no way therapeutic. But once one blurs the distinction between health promotion and genetic enhancement, between so-called negative and positive eugenics, one opens the door to all future eugenic designs. "[T]o make sure that a child will be healthy and have good chances in life": this is Robertson's principle,' and owing to its latter clause it is an utterly elastic principle, with no boundaries. Being over eight feet tall will likely produce  some very good chances in life, and so will having the looks of Marilyn Monroe, and so will a genius-level intelligence.
Proponents want us to believe that there are legitimate uses of cloning that can be distinguished from illegitimate uses, but by their own principles no such limits can be found. (Nor could any such limits be enforced in practice.) Reproductive freedom, as they understand it, is governed solely by the subjective wishes of the parents-to-be (plus the avoidance of bodily harm to the child). The sentimentally appealing case of the childless married couple is, on these grounds, indistinguishable from the case of an individual (married or not) who would like to clone someone famous or talented, living or dead. Further, the principle here endorsed justifies not only cloning but, indeed, all future artificial attempts to create (manufacture) "perfect" babies.
A concrete example will show how, in practice no less than in principle, the so-called innocent case will merge with, or even turn into, the more troubling ones. In practice, the eager parents-to-be will necessarily be subject to the tyranny of expertise. Consider an infertile married couple, she lacking eggs or he lacking sperm, that wants a child of their (genetic) own, and propose to clone either husband or wife. The scientist-physician (who is also co-owner of the cloning company) points out the likely difficulties-a cloned child is not really their (genetic) child, but the child of only one of them; this imbalance may produce strains on the marriage; the child might suffer identity confusion; there is a risk of perpetuating the cause of sterility; and so on-and he also points out the advantages of choosing a donor nucleus. Far better than a child of their own would be a child of their own choosing. Touting his own expertise in selecting healthy and talented donors, the doctor presents the couple with his latest catalog containing the pictures, the health records, and the accomplishments of his stable of cloning donors, samples of whose tissues are in his deep freeze. Why not, dearly beloved, a more perfect baby?
The "perfect baby," of course, is the project not of the infertility doctors, but of the eugenic scientists and their supporters. For them, the paramount right is not the so-called right to reproduce, but what biologist Bentley Glass called, a quarter of a century ago, "the right of every child to be born with a sound physical and mental constitution, based on a sound genotype . . .[that is,] the inalienable right to a sound heritage."26 But to secure this right, and to achieve the requisite quality control over new human life, human conception and gestation will need to be brought fully into the bright light of the laboratory, beneath which it can be fertilized, nourished, pruned, weeded, watched, inspected, prodded, pinched, cajoled, injected, tested, rated, graded, approved, stamped, wrapped, sealed, and delivered. There is no other way to produce the perfect baby.
Yet we are urged by proponents of cloning to forget about the science fiction scenarios of laboratory manufacture and multiple-copied clones, and to focus only on the homely cases of infertile couples exercising their reproductive rights. But why, if the single cases are so innocent, should multiplying their performance be so off-putting? (Similarly, why do others object to people making money off this practice, if the practice itself is perfectly acceptable?) When we follow the sound ethical principle of universalizing our choice-"would it be right if everyone cloned a Wilt Chamberlain (with his consent, of course)? Would it be right if everyone decided to practice asexual reproduction?"-we discover what is wrong with these seemingly innocent cases. The so-called science fiction cases make vivid the meaning of what looks to us, mistakenly, to be benign.
Though I recognize certain continuities between cloning and, say, IVF, I believe that cloning differs in essential and important ways. But those who disagree should be reminded that the "continuity" argument cuts both ways. Sometimes we establish bad precedents and discover that they were bad only
when we follow their inexorable logic to places we never meant to go. Can the defenders of cloning show us today how, on their principles, we will be able to see producing babies ("perfect babies") entirely in the laboratory or exercising full control over their genotypes (including so-called enhancement) as ethically different, in any essential way, from present forms of assisted reproduction? Or are they willing to admit, despite their attachment to the principle of continuity, that the complete obliteration of "mother" or "father," the complete depersonalization of procreation, the complete manufacture of human beings, and the complete genetic control of one generation over the next would be ethically problematic and essentially different from current forms of assisted reproduction? If so, where and how will they draw the line, and why? I draw it at cloning, for all the reasons given.
VIII. Ban the Cloning of Humans
What, then, should we do? We should declare that human cloning is unethical in itself and dangerous in its likely consequences. In so doing, we shall have the backing of the overwhelming majority of our fellow Americans, and of the human race, and (I believe) of most practicing scientists. Next, we should do all that we can to prevent the cloning of human beings. We should do this by means of an international legal ban if possible, and by a unilateral national ban, at a minimum. Scientists may secretly undertake to violate such a law, but they will be deterred by not being able to stand up proudly to claim the credit for their technological bravado and success. Such a ban on clonal baby-making, moreover, will not harm the progress of basic genetic science and technology. On the contrary, it will reassure the public that scientists are happy to proceed without violating the deep ethical norms and intuitions of the human community.
This still leaves the vexed question about laboratory research using early embryonic human clones, specially created only for such research purposes, with no intention to implant them into a uterus. There is no question that such research holds great promise for gaining fundamental knowledge about normal (and abnormal) differentiation, and for developing tissue lines for transplantation that might be used, say, in treating leukemia or in repairing brain or spinal cord injuries-to mention just a few of the conceivable benefits. Still, unrestricted clonal embryo research will surely make the production of living human clones much more likely. Once the genies put the cloned embryos into the bottles, who can strictly control where they go (especially in the absence of legal prohibitions against implanting them to produce a child)?
I appreciate the potentially great gains in scientific knowledge and medical treatment available from embryo research, especially with cloned embryos. At the same time, I have serious reservations about creating human embryos for the sole purpose of experimentation. There is something deeply repugnant and fundamentally transgressive about such a utilitarian treatment of prospective human life. This total, shameless exploitation is worse, in my opinion, than the .mere" destruction of nascent life. But I see no added objections, as a matter of principle, to creating and using cloned early embryos for research purposes, beyond the objections that I might raise to doing so with embryos produced sexually.
And yet, as a matter of policy and prudence, any opponent of the manufacture of cloned humans must, I think, in the end oppose also the creating of cloned human embryos. Frozen embryonic clones (belonging to whom?) can be shuttled around without detection. Commercial ventures in human cloning will be developed without adequate oversight. In order to build a fence around the law, prudence dictates that one oppose-for this reason alone-all production of cloned human embryos, even for research purposes. We should allow all cloning research on animals to go forward, but the only safe trench that we can dig across the slippery slope, I suspect, is to insist on the inviolable distinction between animal and human cloning.
Some readers, and certainly most scientists, will not accept such prudent restraints, because they desire the benefits of research. They will prefer, even in fear and trembling, to allow human embryo cloning research to go forward.
Very well. Let us test them. If the scientists want to be taken seriously on ethical grounds, they must at the very least agree that embryonic research may proceed if and only if it is preceded by an absolute and effective ban on all attempts to implant into a uterus a cloned human embryo (cloned from an adult) to produce a living child. Absolutely no permission for the former without the latter.
The NBAC's recommendations regarding these matters were a step in the right direction, but a step made limpingly and, finally, without adequate support. To its credit, the Commission has indeed called for federal legislation to prevent anyone from attempting to create a child through cloning; this was, frankly, more than I expected. But the moral basis for the Commission's opposition to cloning is, sadly, much less than expected and needed, and the ban it urges is to be only temporary. Trying to clone a human being, says the Commission, is "morally unacceptable" "atthis time" because the technique has not yet been perfected to the point of safe usage.27 In other words, once it becomes readily feasible to clone a human being, with little risk of bodily harm to the resulting child, the Commission has offered not one agreed-upon reason to object. Indeed, anticipating such improvements in technique, the Commission insists that "it is critical" that any legislative ban on baby-making through cloning should "include a sunset clause to ensure that Congress will review the issue after a specified time period (three to five years) in order to decide whether the prohibition continues to be needed."28 Although it identifies other ethical concerns (beyond the issue of safety), this blue-ribbon ethics commission takes no stand on any of them! It says only that these issues "require much more widespread and careful public deliberation before this technology may be used"29-N.B. not to decide whether it should be used. Relativistically, it wants to insure only that such ethical and social issues be regularly reviewed "in light of public understandings at that time."' This is hardly the sort of principled opposition to cloning that could be made the basis of any lasting prohibition.
Almost as worrisome, the report is silent on the vexed question of creating cloned human embryos for use in research. Silence is, of course, not an endorsement, but neither is it opposition. Given the currently existing ban on the use of federal funds for any research that involves creating human embryos for experimentation, the Commission may have preferred to avoid needless controversy by addressing this issue. Besides, those commissioners (no doubt a big majority) who favor proceeding with cloned embryo research have in fact gained their goal precisely by silence. For both the moratorium on federal funding and the legislative ban called for by the Commission are confined solely to attempts to create a child through cloning. The Commission knows well how vigorously and rapidly embryo research is progressing in the private sector, and it surely understands that its silence on the subject-and Congress'-means that the creation of human embryonic clones will proceed, and is perhaps already proceeding, in private or commercial laboratories. Indeed, the report expects and tacitly welcomes such human embryo research: for by what other means will we arrive at the expected improvements in human cloning technology that would require the recommended periodic reconsideration of any legislative ban?
In the end, the report of the Commission turns out to be a moral and (despite its best efforts) a practical failure. Morally, this ethics commission has waffled on the main ethical question, by refusing to declare the production of human clones unethical (or ethical). Practically, the moratorium and ban on baby-making that the Commission calls for, while welcome as temporary restraints, have not been given the justification needed to provide a solid and lasting protection against the production of cloned human beings. To the contrary, the Commission's weak ethical stance may be said to undermine even its limited call for restraint. Do we really need a federal law solely to protect unborn babies from bodily harm?
Opponents of cloning need therefore.to be vigilant. They should press for legislation to permanently prohibit baby-making through cloning, and they should take steps to make such a prohibition effective.
The proposal for such a legislative ban is without American precedent, at least in technological matters, though the British and others have banned the cloning of human beings, and we ourselves ban incest, polygamy, and other forms of "reproductive freedom." Needless to say, working out the details of such a ban, especially a global one, would be tricky, what with the need to develop appropriate sanctions for violators. Perhaps such a ban will prove ineffective; perhaps it will eventually be shown to have been a mistake. But it would at least place the burden of practical proof where it belongs: on the proponents of this horror, requiring them to show very clearly what great social or medical good can be had only by the cloning of human beings.
We Americans have lived by, and prospered under, a rosy optimism about scientific and technological progress. The technological imperative-if it can be done, it must be done-has probably served us well, though we should admit that there is no accurate method for weighing benefits and harms. Even when, as in the cases of environmental pollution, urban decay, or the lingering deaths that are the unintended by-products of medical success, we recognize the unwelcome outcomes of technological advance, we remain confident in our ability to fix all the "bad" consequences-usually by means of still newer and better technologies.. How successful we can continue to be in such post hoc repairing is at least an open question. But there is very good reason for shifting the paradigm around, at least regarding those technological interventions into the human body and mind that will surely effect fundamental (and likely irreversible) changes in human nature, basic human relationships, and what it means to be a human being. Here, we surely should not be willing to risk everything in the naive hope that, should things go wrong, we can later set them right.
The President's call for a moratorium on human cloning has given us an important opportunity. In a truly unprecedented way, we can strike a blow for the human control of the technological project, for wisdom, prudence, and human dignity. The prospect of human cloning, so repulsive to contemplate, is the occasion for deciding whether we shall be slaves of unregulated progress, and ultimately its artifacts, or whether we shall remain free human beings who guide our technique toward the enhancement of human dignity. If we are to seize the occasion, we must, as the late Paul Ramsey wrote,
raise the ethical questions with a serious and not a frivolous conscience. A man of frivolous conscience announces that there are ethical quandaries ahead that we must urgently consider before the future catches up with us. By this he often means that we need to devise a new ethics that will provide the rationalization for doing in the future what men are bound to do because of new actions and interventions science will have made possible. In contrast, a man of serious conscience means to say in raising urgent ethical questions that there may be some things that men should never do. The good things that men do can be made complete only by the things they refuse to 3 do.31
Footnotes
William Blake, The Lamb, in AN OXFORD ANTHOLOGY OF ENGLISH POEMS 535 (1956).
Id.
Id.
NATIONAL BIOETHICS ADVISORY COMMISSION, CLONING HUMAN BEINGS, REPORT AND RECOMMENDATIONS OF THE NATIONAL BIOETHICS ADVISORY COMMISSION iii-iv (1997) [hereinafter NBAC REPORT].
See, e.g., H.R. 922, 105th Cong. (1997); H.R. 923, 105th Cong. (1997).
See, e.g., S. 368, 105th Cong. (1997).
H.R. 923.
See Joshua Lederberg, ExperimentalGenetics and Human Evolution, 100 AM. NATURALIST
Leon R. Kass, Genetic Tampering, WASH. POST, Nov. 3, 1967, at A20. See also Leon R. Kass, Making Babies-The New Biology and the 'Old' Morality, PUB. INTEREST, Winter 1972, at 18 [hereinafter Kass, Making Babies].
Kass, Making Babies, supra note 9, at 50.
FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY, CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 44 (David Magarshack trans., Penguin Books 1966).
Colin Stewart, Nuclear Transplantation: An Udder Way of Making Lambs, 385 NATURE 769 (1997).
Robert Langreth & Michael Waldholz, Who Will Cash in on Breakthrough in Cloning?, WALL ST. J., Feb. 25, 1997, at BI.
Amanda Vogt, Is Cloning a Baaad Idea?, CHI. TRIB., Mar. 4, 1997, (Kidnews), at 3.
See, e.g., HANS JONAS, Biological Engineering-A Preview, in PHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS: FROM ANCIENT CREED TO TECHNOLOGICAL MAN 153-63 (1974); PAUL RAMSEY, Shall We Clone a Man?, in FABRICATED MAN: THE ETHICS OF GENETIC CONTROL 60-103 (1970).
See Ruth Macklin, Possible Benefits of Cloning Humans, BIOLAW, June 1997, at S130 [hereinafter Macklin, BIOLAW]; Ruth Macklin, Possible Benefits of Cloning Humans (visited Mar. 18, 1998) <http://www.all.org/nbac/970313b.htm> (testimony presented before the National Bioethics Advisory Commission, Washington, D.C., Mar. 14, 1997). See also John A. Robertson, A Ban on Cloning and CloningResearch Is Unjustified, BIOLAW, June 1997, at S133 [hereinafter Robertson, BIOLAW]; John A. Robertson, A Ban on Cloning and Cloning Research Is Unjustified (visited Mar. 18, 1998) <http://www.all.org/nbac/970313b.htm> (testimony presented before the National Bioethics Advisory Commission, Washington, D.C., Mar. 14, 1997).
ALDOUS HUXLEY, BRAVE NEW WORLD (1946).
Dave Anderson, Sports of the Times: Could Jordan Be Cloned? Not Exactly, N.Y. TIMES, Feb. 28, 1997, at B7.
See Macklin, BIOLAW, supra note 16, at S132.\
Robertson, BIOLAW, supra note 16, at S134.
See Macklin, BIOLAW, supra note 16, at S131. "One incontestable ethical requirement is that no adult person should be cloned without his or her consent." Id.
See, e.g., Moore v. Regents of the University of California, 793 P.2d 479 (Cal. 1990).
See James Lindemann Nelson, Cloning, Families, and the Reproduction of Persons, BIOLAW, June 1997, at S 144; James Lindemann Nelson, Cloning, Families, and the Reproduction of Persons, 32 VAL. U. L. REV. 715 (1998); James Lindemann Nelson, Cloning, Families, and the Reproduction of Persons (visited Apr. 18, 1998) <http://www.all.org/nbac/970313b.htm> (testimony presented before the National Bioethics Advisory Commission, Washington, D.C.,'Mar. 14, 1997).
Robertson, BIOLAW, supra note 16, at S134-37.
Id. at S137.
Bentley Glass, Science: Endless Horizons or Golden Age? 171 Sci. 23, 28 (1971). In this presidential address to the American Association for the Advancement of Science, Glass continues: "No parents will in that future time have a right to burden society with a malformed or mentally incompetent child." d.
NBAC REPORT, supra note 4, at iii, 82, 108 (emphasis added).
Id. at iv, 109.
Id. at iii (emphasis added).
Id. at iv, 109.
RAMSEY, supra note 15, at 122-23 (footnote omitted).
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admiralty-xfd · 5 years
Text
Culmination
This is Chapter 12, to start at the beginning click here.
(Note: One of my biggest pet peeves with season 8 is Mulder’s inexplicable behavior towards Scully in “Three Words” and the shift we see from that to the pizza man banter in “Empedocles.” He’s clearly suffering from some form of PTSD but I truly believe there was so much story here, a truly wasted opportunity for character development. Missing scenes galore. So this is my attempt at making the inexplicable… explicable.)
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CONFUSION
MULDER
(DeadAlive)
“Mulder?”
He opens his eyes and she is there.
He doesn’t know exactly where he is, but it looks like a hospital room. A familiar sight. He feels as if time has passed but he doesn’t know how much. He felt it when he was in the dark place, when they poked and prodded and tortured him endlessly.
He’d wanted to die. He felt dead. Then…. nothing.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in that place but it must have been a long time. He sees it in her face now, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Hi,” she greets him, a glow in her eyes that looks different, new. He can’t quite place it. It’s been so long since he’s seen her face, and the anguish he sees isn’t something he wants to remember. He wants to forget, he wants to forget all of this, so he cracks a joke.
“Who are you?”
Her smile disappears and her lower lip trembles. He knows she’s about to start explaining who she is, who he is, everything he would expect her to say. He’s not about to put her through that so he smiles at her, letting her know he’s kidding.
She chokes back a relieved sob. “Oh my god, don’t do that to me.”
She reaches out to touch his forehead, smoothes back his hair, something she always does. The intimacy comforts him.
“Do you know… do you have any idea what you’ve been through?” She says this to him as she cries, but he knows what she really means is does he have any idea what she’s been through. Her tears are of joy, of relief, of release. They are together again, somehow.
“Only what I see in your face.”
He can’t possibly understand anything at the moment. He doesn’t know where he is, how much time has passed, anything. But he sees her. He always sees her.
She gets as close to him as she physically can, her head on his chest. Soon the memories of what happened to him will come screaming back, he knows it. He tries to capture this moment so he has something pleasant to recall when they do. He breathes in the scent of her hair, and a hundred happy memories of her enter his mind.
“Anybody miss me?”
She laughs. Oh, how he’s missed that laugh. Maybe if he hears it enough he’ll be able to forget.
They stay together like that for a long time, holding each other. Eventually she gets up to check his vitals and the sight of her enormous pregnant belly hits him like a ton of bricks.
How…?
Suddenly he’s certain he must be dreaming. He must be, this is impossible. The in-vitro didn’t work, and Scully can’t conceive naturally. She can’t be pregnant.
This isn’t real. None of this is real. He isn’t here at all, and neither is she. He must still be stuck in the dark place. He can’t breathe.
The machines are going wild and Scully looks panicked. “Mulder?! What’s wrong?” The last thing he sees is her screaming for assistance and a team rushing in to help as the darkness takes him.
***
When he wakes again he is so tired. He doesn’t know which way is up. The disorientation is only compounded by the memories of his torture, slowly starting to seep in. He feels like a soldier returned from war.
“Mulder?” Scully is still there. “I’m here.”
“Scully…”
She takes his hand. “You had some kind of panic attack but everything seems to be okay now. How are you feeling?”
“Tell me.” His voice is practically pleading.
What the fuck is going on?
He tries to get a good look at her, tries to decide if he’s still dreaming or not. She’s sitting down again and he can’t see anything.
“You’re…” he trails off, not sure how to complete the sentence.
She looks at him, takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re going to think about this.”
“Lay it on me, Scully.”
“When we found you, you were dead, Mulder. There were other abductees that had been returned and healed, and I tried to get you help but it was too late. As of three months ago, you were dead. I buried you in Raleigh, we had a funeral and everything.”
He tries to absorb this.
“Are you ready for more?”
He isn’t, but nods.
“A few days ago, Billy Miles’ body was found in the ocean. He’d been abducted and returned just like you, and he’d been dead for months. But his body hadn’t decomposed. He was still effectively alive.” She shakes her head, as if she can’t believe she’s actually telling him this. “Skinner found out about it and thought the same might happen to you. So he had your body exhumed. We don’t know how… but here you are, Mulder. I’m trying not to question it.”
“You? Trying not to question it?” he smiles, his first real smile since he woke up.
“I have you back,” she says simply.
For Scully, when it comes to matters of faith she’s far less of a skeptic. It makes no fucking sense to him but it only makes him love her more.
“Is there… anything else?” He’s fishing, and he feels like an idiot for having to ask about the elephant in the room, but he’s so unsure about what the hell is going on he’s not sure how to ask, what to say, or what to even expect.
Either she doesn’t pick up on what he’s really asking about or she doesn’t know how to start, either. Maybe she just assumes his own condition is more important.
“That’s all we know right now.”
“There’s something I have to tell you too, Scully,” he suddenly remembers. He knows he can’t hide his own secret from her any longer. “Back before… well, before… you and I…” he gestures between them and she smiles in understanding.
She already knows what he’s going to say. “I know about all the brain disease, Mulder. We obtained your medical records while we were searching for you.”
He closes his eyes, lays back on the pillow. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
She squeezes his hand. “That doesn’t matter, Mulder. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Did the doctors… say anything about that? Don’t tell me you resurrected a dead man for nothing.”
“We aren’t sure yet. They’re running some tests. We should know more in the morning.”
He looks at her face. He hasn’t seen anything so beautiful in forever and it’s like sustenance. “Can you do me a favor, Scully?”
“Yes. Anything.”
“Pinch me or something? Just humor me.”
She laughs. “I promise you this is all real, Mulder.” She doesn’t pinch him but she squeezes his hand tightly for emphasis.
She stands up. “I think you should get some rest.”
He watches her get up and sees her belly again. He turns away and squeezes his eyes shut.
Wake up, wake up. This is torture.
She must take his reaction as acquiescence to sleep because she lets go of his hand and starts to walk out of the room.
“We… have a lot to talk about, Mulder. I’ll be back later, okay?”
He keeps his eyes shut and doesn’t respond. Maybe she will think he’s trying to sleep. He hears the door close and turns his head, opening one eye. Through the window, in the hallway, he sees her with a man. He is a bit older than her, in a suit and tie with bright blue eyes. He puts his hand on her shoulder and smiles.
Mulder doesn’t know this man, he’s never seen him before. The bad thoughts he thought had disappeared after their first night together return, along with a sudden unexpected rush of jealousy.
That rush quickly transforms into something unbearable.
Of course she’s moved on. Of course she has.
He’s been gone for so long. And this guy, whoever he is, somehow gave her what he couldn’t. This must be why she hasn’t mentioned her pregnancy yet.
Everything now clicks into place. This isn’t a dream after all. It’s completely real, and it’s hell.
All the indecision and uncertainty weighing on his mind before he was abducted suddenly doesn’t matter anymore. He wants to panic. He doesn’t want to imagine his life without her, and for the first time ever he’s thinking about the very real possibility of her with some other man, raising some other man’s child, doing all the things she ever wanted to do with someone who is not him.
He can feel his heart breaking in two. When he made the decision to let her go, he hadn’t realized exactly how painful the consequences would be. He feels like a fool. She’s done exactly what he told her to do. She’s moving on and living her life, without him.
He’s lost her and there’s nothing he can do about it, nothing.
Scully and the other man walk out of his view and he turns away from the window, tears threatening to fall.
SCULLY
(Three Words)
He is alive.
This is literally all that matters, she tries to convince herself.
He’s back from the dead, unbelievably, and his mysterious brain disease has been miraculously cured. There will be plenty of time for them to figure everything out after he feels better, feels like himself again.
She’s pretty sure Mulder saw her belly in the hospital room, at nearly eight months pregnant he could hardly have missed it. So why hasn’t he said anything? Why hasn’t he smiled, or asked about it, or even made a joke? This isn’t how this is supposed to go.
Her instincts told her to deal with his recovery first, and broach this topic afterwards. Maybe that was a mistake. Now it feels like every conversation they have without mentioning it makes it harder and harder to bring up.
The last time they discussed her failed attempts at in-vitro was so long ago, before they even started sleeping together. He’d agreed to be her donor, and she assumed they’d both figure out the role he would be playing after they knew for sure he’d have a role to play. But it never happened, and neither did the discussion. They were both left completely in the dark on how they would have proceeded if it had.
She knows it’s her responsibility to say something, to start this conversation, but she doesn’t even know where to start. He’s probably confused about the how, but so is she. How will she tell him something even she doesn’t understand?
As they ascend the elevator to his apartment, he turns to her. “Why’d you keep the apartment?”
She sighs, looks up at him. She doesn’t want to tell him the real reason: because she’s been sleeping in his bed nearly every night since he left.
“I would have given it up eventually. I just… couldn’t let it go. It would have felt like losing you all over again.” They walk down the hallway. “It’s still full of all your stuff. I never went through it.”
They’ve reached his door and walk in.
“Something looks different.” He looks around, takes it in.
“It’s clean,” she says.
“That’s it.” He walks over to the tank, counts the fish. “Missing a molly,” he points out.
“She wasn’t as lucky as you.”
This isn’t right at all. He doesn’t sound like himself. What is wrong with him?
She knows he’s been through an ordeal, to say the least, but he’s acting so strangely. This isn’t how she imagined this reunion all the nights she sat with him in the hospital, holding his hand, praying desperately that he would somehow survive.
They stand there silently for a few moments, then she speaks.
“Mulder… I don’t know if you’ll ever understand what it was like. First learning of your abduction, then searching for you and finding you dead, and now to have you back…” she trails off.
He sits on the desk. “You act like you’re surprised.”
He’s trying, she thinks. He’s trying to be Mulder again. Making jokes, diffusing awkwardness. But it’s not working today. Today they need to be serious.
“I prayed a lot,” she admits. “And my prayers have been answered.”
“In more ways than one,” he smiles, gesturing to the baby.
There it is.
She sighs with relief, and touches her belly. “Yeah.” She’s about to tell him everything she knows but he beats her to the punch.
“I’m happy for you,” he says. “I think I know how much that means to you.”
Her heart drops into her stomach.
...Happy... for me? Just me? What about us?
They stare at each other like strangers.
What the fuck is going on?
He says he’s happy, so why does he look so sad? This is wrong, all of it. She can’t take it and she feels the tears start to well up.
“Mulder-“
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be cold or ungrateful, I just… have no idea where I fit in right now. I’m having a little trouble processing ...everything.”
She nods, and looks at the ground. This is clearly not going at all the way she’d hoped. Of all the uncertainties in her life, he has always been the one thing that stayed consistent: her true north. Her constant. Her touchstone. He’s so far off course at the moment she has no idea what to do. She doesn’t know why he’s acting this way. She doesn’t know how to react to this Mulder.
She thinks of Billy Miles and what happened to him, how he returned… not quite right. She feared this might happen, and although God has already answered her prayers she silently sends out one more, that this man is truly her Mulder. That he’s come back to her fully. He just needs time, she thinks. Even more time.
Suddenly she feels a strong desire to leave. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll go.”
He’s looking anywhere but at her.
“Call me if you need anything,” she adds.
He finally looks up at her and smiles. “Okay, thanks.”
The door closes behind her, and she walks slowly down the hallway, more confused than ever. So much happened in this hallway, so many moments and conversations and meaningful events and even deaths, right here outside his apartment.
As she walks away from him she feels like she’s walking away from a stranger.
***
It’s only been a couple days, and Mulder is back to all his usual tricks. Chasing leads, breaking protocol, pissing off Deputy Director Kersh, the works. Scully would be utterly annoyed if some part of her wasn’t relieved that he was at least behaving like himself again.
Scully, if you know something that can get us moving forward again you need to tell me.
He had been referring to their work, but all she could hear was “get us moving forward again” and that’s all she wants to do. That was the last time they had spoken.
In the meantime, he’d broken into the Federal Statistics Center with the Lone Gunmen, gotten into a pissing contest with Agent Doggett, and they’d both escaped with their lives.
Business as usual, in other words.
She feels like maybe it’s a good time to talk to him, now that he’s gotten some of it out of his system. They’ve lost so much time already, and the baby is due soon. It’s time for a conversation. So she invites him over.
He arrives in jeans, a gray T-shirt and leather jacket.
Christ, he looks good. Why does he have to look so good?
She feels an involuntary flush and curses the gods for her third trimester horniness. It was easier before they’d gotten together, when regular sex wasn’t a part of her life. She'd been so wrapped up in her grief it wasn't something she was terribly focused on but having him here now in her apartment is bringing it all back. Being without him all this time has been miserable in other ways, she’s realizing.
“Hey.” He sounds… happy? Glad to see her? Things have been so fucking weird she doesn’t know what to expect.
“Hi.” She lets him in and closes the door. “Sit.”
“Oh boy,” he says nervously, but follows her instructions. She sits next to him on the couch. They just look at each other for a bit, then she takes a deep breath.
“I don’t want to talk about work. I need to talk about us right now.”
“Okay.” He’s listening.
“I’m just going to come out and say this because I feel thirteen months pregnant and my hormones are crazy and I don’t want to play any games with you. Okay?”
He nods. He looks uncomfortable.
“Mulder. What the hell is up with you? Why are you acting so strangely around me?”
He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. He seems at a total loss for words.
“Ever since you got back you haven’t been yourself, I feel like we’re two people who have never met before. I don’t like it at all.”
He can’t speak for some reason so he stares at her belly.
“Yes!" she exclaims. "The baby! Please, let’s talk about it! You haven’t said anything, I thought… I thought you’d be happy.”
Finally, he speaks. “I am happy, Scully, I’m very happy for you.”
She’s so frustrated she wants to scream. “Yes, you said that. But what about you ? How do you feel about it?”
His mouth hangs open. “I … don’t know what else you want me to say.”
Her eyes go wild, and she stands up. “What I want you to say? I want you to say you’re happy for us, Mulder! For me and for you and for our baby!”
He looks confused. “Wait… what? How… the baby is mine?”
Her jaw drops and she stares at him, gobsmacked. “For fuck’s sake, Mulder, of course it’s yours! What is wrong with you?” She’s angry now. What did he think, she’d go off with some other guy right after he was abducted? Or right after she’d buried him?
“I’m sorry, Scully, please sit down, I’m sorry!” He grabs her hands and pulls her gently down next to him. “I… I got the wrong idea, I’m sorry.”
She looks him in the eyes and shakes her head. “Wrong idea how? What are you talking about?”
His eyes look apologetic, but the confusion on his face is palpable. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, Scully, I have. I just... couldn’t figure how it could have been me. The in-vitro didn’t work, right? There’s no other way it could have happened, is there? I guess I just thought...”
He looks so, so confused, and upset. She finally begins to understand. He doesn’t know the baby is his. He thinks since the IVF didn’t work with him, she tried again with someone else. Or worse, was in a relationship with somebody else.
No wonder he’s been acting so strangely. It all makes sense now.
“I thought there must be… someone else.” He looks hurt, but catches himself. “I wouldn’t have blamed you, Scully. I mean… I was dead. And I all but told you to move on from me the last time we saw each other. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Mulder.” She can’t take it anymore, she needs to hold him so badly. She throws her arms around him and pulls him to her as tightly as her stomach will allow. He returns the hug and they just sit there, breathing each other in. She laughs into his ear.  
“When did you think I’d have time to go out looking for men, Mulder? Honestly.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I feel like an asshole.”
She pulls away. “Yeah, you kind of have been. I thought this was some kind of Invasion of the Body Snatchers situation.”
“Nice, Scully.” He looks impressed.
“I just don’t understand how you could think that, Mulder. It took us seven years to get together.”
“Well, that was only because I’m an idiot.” He breathes an audible sigh of relief. “I thought maybe… that Agent Doggett. I really did.”
She sits back a bit. “What? Are you kidding me?”
“No, I really did.”
“You think I’d ask the man who was helping me look for you for his sperm? Are you serious?”
She can tell he’s starting to feel the weight of her unspoken accusations of stupidity. “I don’t know, Scully. He has very piercingly blue eyes. I almost got lost in them myself. His sperm might have been the way to go.”
She looks at him pointedly. “Mulder. That is not why you shoved him in Skinner’s office.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“I would never admit to such a thing. Maybe a little bit.”
She playfully hits his shoulder, then flops back into the couch cushion, so relieved, eyes closed.
“I’m extremely territorial when it comes to you, Scully. What can I say?”
She rolls her eyes. She can’t believe that, as usual, they’ve managed to turn a simple misunderstanding into a huge problem. She loves everything about them together except their seemingly inescapable predilection to get in their own way.
She exhales loudly. “So. We should talk about this, then.”
“Yeah. Do you know how it happened? When?”
“I have no idea, Mulder.” It’s the truth. “I found out the same night you were abducted.”
“But… how?”
She shakes her head. “I’m just as shocked as you are. But there are definitely some things you need to know.”
She tells him everything she’s learned about Dr Parenti and the women involved in his experiments. How there was talk of alien babies and it had scared her.
“All of this feels so deeply connected to me and my own abduction, it would be remiss of me not to be at all concerned. But I’ve had so many tests done, Mulder. I’ve done tests myself. Everything checks out fine. The baby is normal and healthy.”
He thinks a moment. “I hate to even entertain this, Scully, but… do you think it’s possible the cancer man has something to do with this? I mean, you told me he may have drugged you. Could he have… done something to you?”
“I considered that,” she replies. “It would be irresponsible of me not to.”
“...And?”
She sighs. She isn’t stupid, she’d done the math. External involvement had been a concern of hers since the day she learned of her pregnancy. But she is still Scully, and she still deals with these things the way she always has. “I don’t know. I guess I’m actively deciding not to go there. That son of a bitch has done enough damage to both of us. I don’t want to give him another minute of my time.”
They are both quiet a moment, contemplating this.
“I hate this so much, Mulder,” she suddenly blurts out. “I’ve been given everything I ever dreamed of and I hate that I’m having to question it. And you’ve been gone… it’s just been so difficult. I’ve had to go through everything alone. It’s been impossible to enjoy.”
He squeezes her hand. “Well, I’m here now.”
She smiles at him.
He continues. “I’m just feeling this… insane mix of emotions right now. I’m so happy to have helped give you back a dream. It’s more than I could have hoped for. But I’m not gonna lie, Scully, I’m worried. For the first time I feel as skeptical as you can be.”
She’s so relieved to know she really has her Mulder back she allows him the familiar protectiveness she’s used to. “I know. But everything is okay, the baby is perfectly healthy.”
“And… you’re sure, absolutely sure it’s mine?”
“As sure as you’d expect me to be. I had an amnio and I ran the DNA against yours. It’s a match, Mulder.”
He sits back into the couch and exhales deeply. “Wow.”
They’re quiet for a moment. “You know," she says quietly, "they’re talking a lot at work. I hear things.”
“Like what?”
“Just talk. About you and me. And the baby. There’s a lot of it. I actually overheard Arlene talking about an office pool.”
He narrows his eyes. “What exactly are you implying, Scully? That everyone at the FBI thinks I knocked you up?”
She shrugs and grins. In the weeks leading up to his abduction the rumors had most certainly gone from bad to worse. “Can you blame them?”
He smiles, finally, the smile she’s been waiting to see. “Sure I can, because you and I just work together.”
“Right. We just work together.”
“We work really well together.”
She grins. “That, we do.”
“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it, Scully. And until this baby comes out, anyone is under suspicion. For all we know, it could be a mini-Kersh.”
She laughs. “It couldn’t be anyone else’s, anyway.” She runs her fingers along the nape of his neck, into his hair. “I wanted to be thorough with the testing. But… there hasn’t been anyone else.”
He tilts his head back into her hand and turns it to look at her, finally catching her eye in a very familiar way, a very specific way she’s missed.
“Well, this is excellent news, Scully. I’m very happy. For us.” He lets go of her hand in order to place his on her belly. “I’m worried about the kid though, to be honest. Half you and half me? How the hell will he get anything done?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Who said anything about a he?”
“What, it’s a girl?”
“I’ll never tell.” She gives him a playful smile. She knows the truth, of course. But for some reason she wants to keep it to herself, for now.
“Seriously, Scully? You’re not going to tell me?”
“Don’t you want to be surprised?”
“No. I hate surprises. You know this.”
She slowly moves her other hand along his thigh. “I do know.”
The relief she feels that Mulder is actually Mulder, and not a pod person, and not some alien replicant, and not behaving coldly or ungratefully anymore, has evolved. Now she just wants him back, all of him, the way they were before. Right now.
The pregnancy hormones are powerful.
His eyes narrow. “Are you trying to seduce me, Agent Scully?”
“Yes.”
He shifts in his seat. “Um… is that… allowed?”
“What, you’ve never had sex with a pregnant woman before?” she teases.
“Actually, no. But I just added it to my bucket list.”
“Well, it’s doctor-approved.”
“Really?”
She pushes his chest until he’s flat on the couch, and with great effort climbs onto his lap. “Yes, Mulder. I’m a doctor, and I approve.”
“Jesus. I really like Pregnant Scully.”
“Mulder. I’m in third trimester hell. Please put me out of my misery.” Her lips clamp down onto his with a fervor she doesn’t recognize. She can’t recall another time when she felt this hungry for him, for anyone, and as she feels his lips move beneath hers, tasting him, she feels whole again. Just a couple days ago he was dead. Now here he is, in the flesh, and she can’t wait anymore.
He sits up a bit as they kiss, allowing her to tear his jacket and shirt from his body, her lips then moving to his chest, covering every inch of him, verifying his mortality. She doesn’t think she’s ever been so turned on in her entire life. Some external force has taken over her body and she feels carnal, animalistic. She wants to do things to him she wouldn’t normally think about. She tries to blame the hormones but she knows it’s probably just him.
It all happens fast, so fast, and she unzips his jeans, pushing them down just enough to reveal verifiable evidence that he indeed missed this just as much as she did. She rises up onto her knees and maneuvers herself down onto him, extended foreplay utterly unnecessary this time.
The changes in her body have made everything feel different in a really good way, and she immediately decides they need to do this again as much as humanly possible before the baby comes. Life has been so awful and sad for so many months that she doesn’t even care that it’s all over much quicker than she would typically like it to be. It was everything she needed and more.
She tries to lay on top of him as she breathes heavily, sweating and shaking, but her enormous belly is in the way and after a minute he tries to lift her up.
“Scully…” he pants. “I’m sorry but you have to get up, I can’t breathe.”
She moves off him, laughing, and his arm goes around her as he tries to keep her from sliding off the couch.
“What’s funny?” he asks.
“I was just thinking about when you said you didn’t want this baby to come between us.”
He laughs. “Well, I obviously had no clue what the hell I was talking about.” He pulls her close, the couch far too small for her to feel as comfortable and content as she does.
Thanks for reading! See you back tomorrow with the next chapter.
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phoenix-downer · 6 years
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Kingdom Hearts and Belief: An Analysis
Belief is an important theme in Kingdom Hearts, going all the way back to the scene after Sora flies for the very first time in Neverland. Let’s take a look at the English and Japanese versions of the dialogue:
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EN: I still can’t believe it. I really flew. Wait ‘till I tell Kairi. I wonder if she’ll believe me. Probably not.
JP: 俺 空を飛んだ すごいよな 空を飛んだんだ! カイリに話したら信じてくれるかな?
TR: I... flew (in the sky). Amazing! I really flew (in the sky)! I wonder if Kairi would believe me if I told her.
Notes: The Japanese version really emphasizes how Sora flew in the sky, probably because his name means sky and they wanted to draw that connection.
Sora also uses the particles yo and na for extra emphasis to really drive home the point how awestruck he is. He uses nda in the second line as well, which gives the feeling that he can’t believe he actually flew and really wants to draw attention to that fact.
A bit lost in translation, but when he says, “I wonder if Kairi would believe me,” he uses shinjitekureru, which more literally means, “I wonder if Kairi would do me the favor of believing me.” He also doesn’t doubt her quite the same way he does in the English version, although the kana does indicate uncertainty, just wonders if she will believe him – pretty fitting, considering how the overall scene is focused on belief.
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EN: You can bring her to Neverland sometime. Then she can try it herself.
JP: もう一度ネバーランドにこいよ 今度は二人で飛ぶのさ
TR: Come back to Neverland. The two of you can fly together next time.
Notes: The Japanese version emphasizes Peter suggesting Sora and Kairi flying together, whereas the English version focuses on Kairi experiencing it for herself.
Also, Peter uses the ending particle sa to sound assertive. His suggestion to Sora to come back to Neverland is also strongly worded with koi instead of the regular casual command form for come, kite, which he combines with the emphatic particle yo, indicating he really wants Sora to return someday.
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EN: If you believe, you can do anything, right?  I’ll find Kairi, I know I will. There’s so much I want to tell her-- about flying, the pirates, and everything else that’s happened.
JP: 信じることができれば 空だって飛べるんだ 俺 信じてる 絶対 カイリに会える 空を飛んだことだけじゃない 島を出てからのこと 全部話せるって
TR: If you believe, you can fly (in the sky). I believe. I know I’ll see Kairi again. And when I do, I can finally tell her about everything that’s happened since I left the islands (not just about flying).
Notes: I really like how poetic the English translation sounds here. It goes for the same spirit of the original Japanese lines as opposed to an exact translation.
But anyway, breaking things down. A more literal translation of what Sora says would be, “If you can believe, you can fly in the sky. I believe. Absolutely. I can see Kairi (again),” but that sounds awkward in English so I translated it a bit differently. Same with the other sentence – a more literal translation might be, “I can tell her all of it – not just about flying in the sky, but about everything that’s happened since I left the islands.”
But yeah, Sora is expressing real belief that he will see Kairi again, emphasized by the fact that he says zettai, absolutely. This is a big turning point for him, because earlier in Neverland he was clearly distraught by the fact that he saw her (albeit unconscious) but couldn’t talk to her. Earlier in this very scene even Goofy expresses doubt and concern about Kairi’s state, but not Sora. No, Sora speaks with certainty here. He knows he will see Kairi again, and when he does, he’s going to tell her about everything he’s done.
Tying it into the series
In Blank Points, Nomura really drives home the point that Sora is the epitome of hope for all the characters who have been lost throughout the series. They call out to him one by one, expressing their belief in him, their trust that he will save them, in a very touching scene that feels... downright religious, to be honest, and culminates in Aqua crying when she hears his name.
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And where did that motif of belief begin? Well, all the way back in Neverland in KH1. For the first time, we get the connection between Sora’s name and belief. Flying in the sky (literally sora in Japanese, oh the puns) is what inspired Sora to believe he could see Kairi again.
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This really draws attention to how in the Kingdom Hearts universe, the impossible becomes possible through the power of belief. 
Think about it: before Sora went on his adventures, he never would have thought flying was even possible. But now he’s done it, he knows it’s possible, he’s seen firsthand the power of belief. And that is huge, because this belief is what drives him to see Kairi again.
She might be in a coma, she might have lost her heart; it doesn’t matter. He knows he’ll figure something out. And it’s that attitude, that belief that convinces him to plunge the Keyblade of Heart into his own and save her when he had no proof it would work. He believed it would, though, and that gave him the courage to try.
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And Kairi likewise believes in him. Remember, she was in his heart during his adventures in KH1, she got to fly along with him, she saw firsthand what he could accomplish when he believed and heard his confident declaration that they would see each other again. And so she refuses to believe he’s gone when he turns into a Heartless. She believes she’ll see him again, and that belief is what drives her to rewrite the rules of reality, to make the impossible possible, to turn a Heartless back into a human.
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You can do anything if you believe, indeed. And this belief that the two of them share, this belief in each other and what they’re capable of achieving together, inspires Sora even further. He wants to save all those people who called out to him. “I am who I am… because of them,” he says, and Kairi understands. She’s seen him make the impossible possible, and she knows he can do it again. So she lets him go because she has faith he will succeed and knows he will return to her.
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Disclaimer: Not a native Japanese speaker, language learning is a lifelong process, etc., etc. If you see any errors feel free to point them out and I will correct them.
Screenshots and gifs are from Everglow’s playthroughs here and here. 
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New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/message-for-april-2020/
Message for April 2020
  Message for April 2020
By Sarah-Jane Grace
It would be extremely challenging to write anything about the month ahead without acknowledging the current global pandemic. It would feel a little like I’m burying my head in the sand! It’s a time of great uncertainty for so many, a time of great loss and there’s a huge tsunami of fear and angst as the life we’re all used to living is upturned on its head – almost overnight. Everything we once took for granted now feels like a privilege, perhaps an important reminder for many of us as to just how lucky we truly are. This is a virus that doesn’t recognise gender, race, wealth or nationality, it’s become an equaliser of humankind.
As the cities sleep and the world retreats, there is a sense that we’re allowing the earth to breathe again. It goes without saying that this is a time for healing, from each of us individuals, as well as a collective effort. Not just to those who are sick, but to those essential workers saving lives, as well as to each other. April looks set to be a month where the momentum of connection will continue to grow stronger and brighter. Although many of us are physically disconnected, energetically and emotionally we are growing closer and more entwined.
For many the stillness is disconcerting, but it brings us a potent reminder of just how busy our lives usually are. Suddenly so many of us find ourselves with space and time, neither of which we often have in abundance. We may struggle to adjust to the changes we are now living, but it’s important to knuckle down and do everything we need to do in order to find a way through this.
Much has been said about returning to ‘normality’, but perhaps this time of retreat and quiet is an opportunity for each of us to think about the kind of normality we actually want to return to. This global shift is a chance for us to reset the balance and learn to live in harmony with one another and the earth once again. At the moment, countries, scientists, medics and businesses are coming together in unity, we now all need to do the same. We have spent so long divided and fractured, this is an opportunity to heal those wounds as to become united, not separate. Of course, we are all individuals, but surely it’s not about being European, American, Asian, Black, White, Straight, Gay…it’s about the one thing that unquestionably unites us all – being human.  
April looks set to be a month where we head towards the culmination of a profound and intense journey, and although we may feel as though we are trying to navigate our way through a box of dynamite whilst carrying a lit match, there is also a growing sense of excitement rising up from deep within as we feel alive with possibility and potential. Although this virus is taking so much away from us, it’s also bringing us a great deal as well.
It is hard to articulate the true essence of this shift as it goes beyond vocabulary and understanding; we can feel, hear and taste the change, but we can’t, as yet, touch it or see it. As a result, there is an air of cautious expectation as we can sense a new path ahead, but we have no idea what’s around the corner. Intuitively we can feel the eagerness within our hearts and souls to stride forth renewed and invigorated but, at the same time, we are more than aware of the need to walk very carefully through that dynamite as every step, shake of the hand and cough matters! This feels as much spiritual, as it is physical and emotional, it’s quite profound as so much is at stake.
Dynamite has a habit of breaking down seemingly immovable objects, and whilst dropping the lit match isn’t advisable, there is a sense that we are ready now to clear the way of debris: of outdated beliefs, of false hopes and of linear thinking. It’s as though we have all been ignoring the signs for years and now the dynamite has arrived to make us all stop and think, and we realise the gravity of the situation.
Whilst trying to seek out a higher or deeper meaning for this pandemic may help some, I’m not sure it’s the wisest approach as each of us will ultimately find our own learning and wisdom from this. Whilst we’re clearly all in this together, we each have our own learning to do as well as reaching together towards unity. Many of us have spent years trying to reach a point of awakening or breakthrough; it takes courage, faith and a willingness to let go in order to clear the way, but it is ‘letting go’ that so often thwarts so many as it involves truly going into a kind of free fall which so many fear as it’s so unknowable. Yet, this freefall is upon on us and it’s now up to each of us as to how we move forward. It’s time to have faith and belief in ourselves to realise that we absolutely have what it takes to be the wonderful, beautiful and compassionate souls that we know ourselves to be.
In many ways, the dynamite and lit match represent the fear so many of us carry in connection to letting go and stepping into unchartered terrain. We hold back as it seems logical not to let the dynamite and match meet, but here we find ourselves, life has literally pushed us all together into this situation. If we all work together, we can dampen the flames and find hope. Together.  
So, despite the uncertainty, this is a time for humankind to unite; to let go of the ‘them and us’ mentality and to find new ways to let love and compassion flow freely. April looks like a month of intensity, but it’s also a month for new beginnings as we shed the old and open up our hearts and souls to the ‘unknowableness’ of the moment…
As mentioned last month, we are not insular beings, we are each being pushed towards awakening fully in order to wholeheartedly acknowledge that every choice has a consequence. It’s time to connect consciously to the world and to channel love and compassion to everywhere it is needed. The time is now…
I wish you all kinds of wonderful. 
With love,
Sarah-Jane
Aries
April looks set to be a month for bringing your focus firmly into the present moment in order to live more consciously and in more connected ways. It’s time to make some important decisions about what’s truly valuable in your life. You have been on fast-forward for such a long time, so it’s been easy for you to be focused on keeping on keeping on, dealing with quantity rather than quality as you’ve worked so hard to be everything to everyone. You have always had a strong sense of self, as well as a clear sense of direction and purpose in life, whilst you have had times when confused has blurred the edges, when you’ve taken a deep breath, you’ve found your centre once again. This is special time for you to acknowledge any ripples or undercurrents of discontentment in the areas of your life that you know are out of kilter; you have a strong sense of duty and responsibility, even when it means self-sacrificing your own needs and freedom.
Whilst you are a giving, compassionate and loving soul, it is important that you work towards achieving more balance in your life as you cannot keep on self-sacrificing and giving without ending up feeling depleted and under-resourced. You have always tried to do your best and to be the best, but there is a strong sense of ‘ought’ in this mix, that you feel somehow obligated to be the person you feel you are expected to be. It’s time to remember that you are vibrant, passionate and a free spirit, and this side of you is longing to dance freely in life once again. So, have a good think about your life and the ways in which you can restore some balance, as this is your time to start a new chapter in your life…
Taurus
Life is unpredictable and unknowable at the best of times, now so even more. Yet, your resourcefulness and open-mindedness allow you to more readily accept the inevitability of change than most, and this means you are more willing to ride the ebb and flow of the currents in life with courage and determination. In many ways, you are so used to navigating the unchartered waters of change that you have not only learnt how to sail, but you have also mastered the art of surfing! In short, little truly fazes you as your resolve allows you to find acceptance in change and strength from challenge. You know only too well that change isn’t always positive, sweet and rosy, sometimes it can be arduous, stormy and wild. Whilst this can be unnerving and unsettling, you seem confident to find ways to thrive even when there is no solid ground beneath your feet.
Obviously, it’s important to rest and take stock whenever you can, but you seem to thrive when the going gets tough. Yet, despite the uncertainty and unpredictability, a strength is rising up within you allowing you to walk more consciously through life and embrace the moment more mindfully than ever before. This takes courage and self-belief, and whilst you do have your moments when you doubt yourself, it’s important to realise just how magnificent you truly are. This isn’t about ego, it’s about acknowledging just how much you contribute to life. At the same time, the more you let go of the desire to try to control or resist change, the more you are able to make the most of every moment and stop worrying about what may, or may not, lie ahead. It’s time to trust your wisdom and to let your heart and soul guide you; live in the moment and remember to ‘be here now’…
Gemini
There are times in your life when a plethora of different pathways, memories, experiences and thought processes merge together into a more cohesive whole, and such moments allow you to distil and condense these experiences into wisdom and learning. Sometimes these moments of coming together move gracefully and align in perfect harmony, but sometimes they collide like icebergs, crashing together with great force and power. Of course, most of the time, they are so subtle that you don’t even notice them. However, lately you cannot help but notice there have been lots of icebergs in your line of sight on the horizon heading in your general direction. As a result, there is an air of anticipation rising up from deep within your being, a sense of challenging times ahead but, at the same time, there is also a sense of inner knowing; a feeling that everything is as it should be.
Even when change is big and carrying the force of those icebergs, it doesn’t mean that it’s a bad thing; you are a great procrastinator and often spend your time hovering on the periphery waiting for the right moment to jump in, but sometimes you need more force behind you to gently ‘encourage’ you to step from where you are to where you intuitively know you need to be. It’s time to let your truth find its own way and to realise your true worth. You are ready to live wholeheartedly and more in accordance to your beliefs and ideals. You have spent so long trying to be the person you felt you ought to be, but it’s time now to be the person you truly are. You’ve let go of so much and allowed your true self the space to emerge freely without expectation or judgement. It’s time now to be you…
Cancer
There is a stillness that resides at the heart of your being, it’s the force the brings you balance, guidance and hope. This stillness is a place to rest and a place to seek guidance, a place to contemplate and a place to make plans. Most of the time, this stillness lives quietly in the corner of your soul; it doesn’t advertise its presence, it just waits, unnoticed and unacknowledged for you to notice it. It never leaves you, but when your life gets hectic, you can forget its existence. It doesn’t ask much of you, it just is a part of you. It therefore seems a shame that you so often overlook your inner stillness as this is a powerful way for you to re-align your life and to re-define your dreams. The stillness may look empty, but it’s in the quietness where true riches reside, as it’s the lack of distraction and clutter (things to do, people to see and places to go) that allows you to see clearly.
Even though your life may feel anything other than still or quiet, April is a month for you to consciously reconnect to this inner stillness in order to find a new way of living and being. As your priorities shift and you begin to re-think what you truly want from life, it’s the stillness that holds the answers, for it isn’t empty, it’s full of colour, energy and life. It’s only when you slow down, pause and take a breath that inspiration comes to you; the rest of time you are running on fast forward, keeping on keeping on. You have reached a new crossroads and it’s time now to let go of the distractions and to breathe deeply in order to re-shape and re-define your life from the inside, out…
Leo
You have spent a great deal of time trying to unravel and unpick the knots and tangles within your heart and soul. You have been on many a personal quest to find the end of that inner ball of string, trying to find out why things are the way they are, and wanting to know the true meaning of your life. There have been times when the focus has been so intense, you have lost sight of the daily humdrum pedestrian nature of life as layer upon layer has been peeled back, exposing your true essence and being. In some ways, you have stepped beyond the ordinary into a new layer of consciousness as nothing seems the same anymore. It’s as though the things that once seemed so important now fall into the background as new dreams and passions surface. The pace of shift is rapid and there are moments when you feel as though you’ve been knocked off of your feet, but whilst it’s been challenging at times, intuitively you know the need for this process as you are ready to live your life in more enriching and positive ways.
It can be hard to lovingly accept yourself: quirks, complexities and imperfections included, but you know it’s the only path to self-liberation. Of course, the more tangles and knots you unpick, and the more layers you peel back, the more complexities and imperfections you discover, but you are beginning to love these wholeheartedly as they are the things that make you special and unique, talented and effervescent. Life is rarely straightforward, but you are well prepared to navigate the many twists and turns you’ve faced. It’s important to remember that you’re not on a quest for perfection, it’s a desire to understand yourself more deeply. This is a time for you to love yourself wholeheartedly exactly as you are…
Virgo
This is a time to take stock of your meanderings in life, to contemplate more deeply the choices you’ve made, as well as the one’s you haven’t. There is a sense that you are acknowledging the worth and value of going ‘off map’ where you have wandered away from your plans and found yourself in unchartered terrain. Whilst you are wise enough to know that you can never always be sure of what lies around each corner, at the same time, you are still most content in familiar territory as you can find change disruptive on every level of your being. Of course, you know that change is an inevitable part of life, but you still prefer to keep things as smooth and balanced and possible as the disequilibrium you experience runs far deeper than most could even begin to comprehend. It’s not that you’re resistant to change, far from it in fact, it’s just that you are very finely tuned so change can upset the apple cart of your life relatively easily.
Whilst you are usually quite robust, it is important not to ignore any inner imbalance as taking care of yourself is vital for your well-being. At the same time, try not to be concerned when you deviate away from your ‘grand plan’ of life, as it’s often the unchartered terrain where the true gifts reside. It’s time to start allowing the waves of anticipation and hope to flow freely as you approach a new chapter in your life. Allow yourself to feel lighter and more expansive as you are being given a powerful opportunity to re-think your goals and priorities. You’ve moved beyond the need to get life ‘right’, and feel able to set yourself free as you allow your intuitive, creative free spirit more room to wiggle, wriggle and dance…
Libra
As you continue to find ways to make peace with your inner nature, you are beginning to accept that the whirring busy-ness in your mind is a part of your ‘normal’. You are one of life’s thinkers and your thoughts are often way ahead of others as thinking ‘outside of the box’ is how you flourish and thrive. This can be challenging as you’re frequently on a different wavelength to most of those around you; and this can leave you feeling a little alienated or feeling as though you are on the edge rather than at the heart of things. However, intuitively you know that this is exactly how things are supposed to be as you know that everything comes together when needed. It’s time to trust your gifts more and to realise that the things that make you ‘different’ are actually the things that ultimately build bridges and open up new doorways of opportunity for you.
You have now reached a time to take a big deep breath in order to take stock of the path you have walked, the path you are walking and the path you hope to walk. It’s time to stretch out your arms towards something new as you turn head-on to face the powerful period of change heading in your direction. As your awareness expands and your mind starts to re-shape and re-define the experience, you will slowly begin to find ways to articulate the essence of this shift, but for now, it’s important to trust your intuition and to take each day as it comes. Although your curiosity wants to know more, you can feel the wisdom in allowing this change to unfold in its own time and in its own way. This isn’t about quietening your mind, it’s about becoming one with it and allowing it to re-tune in perfect harmony with your body and soul…
Scorpio
April looks set to bring you some powerful revelations in connection to your creativity and intuition, and how you can use them more effectively in your life. Whilst you have always been intuitive, there is a sense that you are growing increasingly more aware of all aspects of yourself and your life; it’s as though you are somehow more awake and in-tune, more connected and open-hearted. Of course, there have been many times in your life when you’ve felt a distinct absence of your intuition, particularly when you’ve been busy, challenged or stressed, but every time you’ve paused and taken a deep breath, your intuition has re-surfaced, shining a light to guide you forwards. You have found yourself increasingly busy lately with things to do, people to see and places to go, and this distraction has left you feeling even more disconnected from your inner self, but you are now entering a time where it’s really important to be more centred and balanced in order to make some pivotal choices as to your path ahead.
Although there will still be plenty of distractions, you need to ask yourself if they’re really essential or if they’re there just as a way to occupy your time or to keep you away from looking more deeply at yourself and your life. It’s time to be honest with yourself as you are now entering a chapter of your life where you need to be sure of your motivations in order to make some important choices as to what you truly want from your life. Distractions can sometimes make for a quieter and easier life, but your creative essence is chomping at the bit to have some freedom. It’s time to throw open the doors to your soul in order to face your true essence and to listen to your phenomenal intuition to guide you…
Sagittarius
Contemplating the bigger picture of your life has enabled you to see both yourself and your life from a new perspective. When you gaze into the mirror, you no longer see the same person smiling back at you, as you’ve shifted into a completely different space. Things that once seemed important have now drifted out of your consciousness allowing you to focus on your true priorities. April looks set to be a time to continue to de-clutter your life, as well as letting go of a great deal of the ‘trappings’ that have come to form a part of your everyday. What once seemed important really doesn’t seem to matter so much as it’s the simpler things you long for, whether it’s being with those you love or listening to a bird in song. This shift looks set to echo into most areas of your life as you begin to make some big decisions as to how you want to live, breathe and be.
In truth, you have been waiting for quite some time to have the energy and momentum to make changes, so you seem more than ready. However, wanting change and then implementing it are quite different! It’s important that you’re clear as to what you want to achieve as it’s the clarity of your vision that will help you shape and define your path ahead. Your inner world is undergoing great shift, including your creativity, your emotions and your spirituality, and this is leading to some profound inner revelations and self-discovery. That rut you’ve been stuck in for so long suddenly seems to have vanished, but it may take you a short while to realise that you no longer need to pull against the current as you are now riding on the crest on the wave. This is your time to shine…
Capricorn
You have spent a great deal of your life bending and flexing with the winds of change in other people’s lives. At the same time, you have mastered the art of trying to do the ‘right’ thing by accommodating the wants, needs and wishes of others, frequently sacrificing your own wishes in the process. As a result, you have become very focused on the business of keeping on keeping on, as life has become a ‘to do’ list rather than a ‘let’s live life to the fullest’ list. Of course, you may feel that living life to the fullest is indulgent and a fantasy, yet does it have to be? Take a moment to breathe through that practical layer of bluster that allows you to get things done, but prevents you from listening to your own intuition. You bluster because that’s how you manage to juggle so much for so many, and you bluster because you’re used to doing it. So, pause, breathe deeply and reconnect to the passion that resides within your heart and soul.
You are so frequently focused on others that you can forget to check in with yourself and your inner world, and whilst being everything to everyone is admirable, it really is time for you to start being everything to yourself as well. You matter! Life doesn’t have to be ‘all work and no play’, it can be an enriching blend of experiences that both enhance and nurture you, as well as those around you. Life isn’t just about others, it’s about you too. Try not taking life so seriously for a while, ease up on the pressure you place on your shoulders to do more, be more and achieve more and learn how to cultivate the essence of self-compassion as this is your time to bend and flex in tune with your own beautiful and magnificent orchestra…
Aquarius
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As you continue to embrace the concept of acceptance, there is a sense that you are beginning to focus more wholeheartedly on the present moment rather than constantly pushing yourself to achieve perfection in all areas of your life. Whilst perfection inspires you, it can also leave you frozen in a state of imperfection as there’s a risk that nothing you do ever feels like it’s enough. This has to stop! It’s time to let go of the high expectations and instead replace them with a growing sense of acceptance of where you are in the here and now. This isn’t a sign of ‘giving up’, it’s a willingness to live more consciously in each and every moment. It doesn’t stop you from having dreams, it simply re-focuses you to be loving and kind towards yourself and acknowledging your many different gifts and talents. If you always keep your focus on the horizon, how can you ever know how you’re doing now?
Having a pedestal to aspire to sit on is all well and good, but when you keep pushing the seat up higher and higher, how are you ever going to reach it? In other words, stop pushing yourself so hard and start showing yourself some compassion. For an enlightened soul, you so find it hard to use that wisdom on yourself! Sometimes trying to push ahead can become a brick wall preventing you from moving and it’s only when you step back with compassion that you can see a new pathway to follow. It seems clear that you need some breathing space in order to re-shape and re-define your life, but you also need to re-shape and re-define the expectations you have of yourself as you are a vibrant and creative soul, and being free is the best gift you can give yourself now…
Pisces
It seems you have been wrestling with a storm that’s been raging at the core of your soul, you have been caught up in the howling winds and the torrential rain, leaving you feel disorientated and overwhelmed. There have been times when you’ve felt as though there is no respite from the storm as it hasn’t abated, and this has consumed you with a sense of confusion and bewilderment as to what to do. Although you’re standing in the rain, caught up in the storm of your everyday life, it’s easy to miss the shelter that’s behind you, offering you dry, warmth, and comfort. It’s not that you particularly want to get wet, it’s just that events have overtaken you and it’s hard to see the wood for the trees. This is understandable as you are deeply empathic, so you are inadvertently ‘sucking up’ a great deal of angst from other sources, however, there comes a time when standing in the storm serves no real purpose other than leaving you to get wet. In other words, why stand outside when there’s a perfectly good shelter to rest in?
These are tumultuous times, but life doesn’t have to feel cold and inhospitable, as there is warmth and love beside you, and within you. Of course, this storm has whipped up a great deal, so you are understandably feeling somewhat overcome with it all, but this is also a time to find new ways to live your life. The storm is only partly due to world events, it’s mainly due to you reaching the end of a chapter in your life. You are ready now to cuddle up in the warmth of your soul and find sustenance from within. It’s time to channel your energy, creativity and passion into a new direction now as you lovingly accept your gifts and your true essence…
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oumakokichi · 7 years
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I feel like Saihara won't be well-received in English fandom. For obvious reasons, but because he's, as you say, a character who's weak and needs to rely on others constantly. Needing help sometimes is okay, but a character who always needs other more competent people to help them and who never gives back can be frustrating. Thoughts?
I think Saihara will be slightly more popular with thewestern fanbase once the localization is out, but mainly due to the fact thatthere will be less misinformation going around. A lot of the reasons I’ve seenpeople have for hating Saihara stem from wrongful assumptions that he’s a “Naegi/Hinataclone” even when he’s… fairly dissimilar from both of them, really.
I do agree that Saihara will probably never be as popular inthe west as he is in Japan, though. Personally, I like Saihara quite a lot as aprotag. Out of all the protagonists, he’s my second-favorite, with only Hinataranking higher. But I think his popularity will always be somewhat stinted bythe bait-and-switch with Kaede, which left a lot of people with a negativeimpression from the start (even though the bait-and-switch was more the faultof Kodaka as a writer, rather than Saihara’s fault).
I also think the western fanbase by and large simply prefersthe shounen protagonist archetype more. Characters like Saihara, who are weak,anxious, and dependent, are often harshly seen as “annoying” or “pathetic.”Saihara is by no means a self-insert protagonist, and he’s not supposed to be—butmore often than not, people playing a visual novel (and Danganronpa is prettymuch a visual novel with extra gameplay elements, as Kodaka has said severaltimes himself) mistake anyprotagonist for a self-insert protagonist.
Playing as a weak, cowardly, or hesitant protagonist causesmany people to reflect on the weaker, worse characteristics of themselves, andusually means they have a harder time warming up to the character than if theyexhibited traits that are seen as universally positive, like bravery, charisma,extroversion, etc.
However, it’s precisely because of Saihara’s flaws as acharacter that I’ve come to love him. For me, personally, Saihara is arguablythe most relatable out of all the protagonists—because I too know what it’slike to struggle with issues of dependency and questioning my own judgment. Assalty as I still am about the bait-and-switch, and as much as I resent a femalecharacter being fridged off for a male character’s development so early intothe game, I simply can’t deny the fact that from a thematic standpoint, Saiharais the most fitting protagonist for agame like ndrv3.
Ndrv3 is a game that challenges not only the characterswithin it but even the player themselves to constantly reevaluate theirassumptions and worldview. Because of its inherent focus on truth vs. lies,where to draw the line between those two things, and which one of the two ismore “correct,” there’s a constant sense of uncertainty throughout the entiregame. The prologue is uncertain. The epilogue is uncertain. The validity ofeverything that was said in the final trial, of the characters’ memories andtalents and backstories, of our judgment as the player in past cases, is allcalled into question.
We, as players, are tasked with solving the mystery forourselves, going back over the game and picking up on the clues andforeshadowing that Kodaka left, and trying to come up with our own theories. Ndrv3is all about the mystery genre, not only from the perspective of individualmurder cases in each trial but with the entire state of the outside world, thekilling game show, and even the characters themselves.
Therefore, the protagonist being a detective makes perfectsense. Saihara is a detective whose job by definition is to find and expose thetruth, but whose past experiences have left him traumatized by that. More thananyone, Saihara understands that the truth is painful and can be used as aweapon; he feels that he singlehandedly ruined a man’s life all because hesolved a case by accident. And yet, as a detective, he still has a naturalcuriosity that causes him to subconsciously seek these things out. He’s afraidof repeating past mistakes, and yet he can’t quite let the truth go.
This is an intentional allusion to the role of a detectivein any mystery novel: more than once, it’s been lampshaded that “the detective issomeone who brings disaster with them wherever they go.” No matter where adetective goes, a case (usually a murder, specifically) is sure to follow. Thisrole is something we’ve seen Kirigiri embrace as an inherent part of who she isin dr1 after struggling to find her memories and her purpose, but with Saihara,it’s much, much harder for him to come to terms with it. A detective who isafraid of the truth already fails to meet the criteria of a “real detective”from the start, in his opinion—and it is fascinatingto see him struggle to trust in his own intuition and abilities despite hatinghimself so much.
Saihara is certainly weak and dependent—but I’m not really surewhere you got the “never gives back” part from. Even though Saihara doubtshimself often and feels as though he’s a subpar detective and hardly qualifiedfor the job, the rest of the characters constantlyrely on him. If anything, they become over-reliant on him as a detective, somuch so to the point where it’s actually lampshaded in-game and they’re calledout on not wanting to think for themselves.
Starting with Chapter 2 and culminating perhaps with Chapters4 and 5, the characters, hell, even Monokuma, all assume that because Saiharais there “they don’t really have to solve the mystery for themselves.” This isa criticism I often see from mystery authors to their readers: the assumptionfrom people that all the answers are going to be handed out on a silver platterwithout any need to think or theorize or even try to solve the mysterythemselves first is often frustrating and discouraging to writers. And I suspectit was no accident that this sort of mindset gets deliberately addressed assomething negative throughout the course of ndrv3.
Momota and all the rest of the cast rely on Saihara to solvethe mysteries for them for most of the game, rather than attempting to dothings themselves. Rather than trusting Saihara himself, per se, it’s becausethey trust his talent, as a detective. They rely on his intuition and abilitiesso much that he actually begins becoming a little uncomfortable with ithimself.
And in Chapter 5, when at a loss for what to do because evenhe doesn’t know the answers to the case, Monokuma decides to rely exclusivelyon Saihara’s reasoning as a “SHSL Detective,” and even announces so point-blankduring the trial. When Momota attempts to keep carrying on Ouma’s bluff despitethe fact that Saihara did theorize the answer correctly, Monokuma says he’s notworried, because he’s sure that a SHSL Detective’s reasoning won’t lead himastray.
Saihara is, as Momota himself points out in the Chapter 5post-trial, “the one who was saving everyone’s asses.” More often than not, hewas one of the main figures in the group keeping everyone alive, working tosolve things when absolutely no one else was really putting much thought intothings—because they all assumed that Saihara would do it for them. To say thathe “never gives anything back” makes no sense, because in fact, it’s the factthat so much is expected from him and that he’s been thrust into such anunwanted leadership role that makes Saihara so uncomfortable and such ananxious wreck.
Certainly, having a protagonist who is weak, timid, anxious,and dependent on others can be frustrating—moreso if those things are neveraddressed within the narrative or characters constantly come to the protagonist’srescue without ever addressing the fact that they aren’t doing things forthemselves. But this isn’t the case with Saihara. Most, if not all the characters address Saihara’sweaknesses in one way or another. Many of them, like Kaede, Momota, and Ouma,work to help push Saihara out of his shell of hesitation and uncertainty.
In my opinion, having a character without any flaws at allwould be far more frustrating. A character with no flaws means there’s no roomfor development or improvement—which is, frankly… pretty boring. And there aremany, many stories in which the protagonist is often a reckless, headstrong,fun-loving person who relies on cooperation and the power of friendship tochange things (such as, most shounen stories). These archetypes can be well-written,but my point is that they’ve been done often.
It’s far rarer to see a protagonist like Saihara whose entirepoint is that he was deliberately made to be “weaker than anyone.” Tsumugi andTeam DR didn’t expect him to gradually come out of his shell, to make evensmall and timid attempts at being braver or more forthright; they expected hisfear of the truth to keep him immobilized forever, always weak, always unable tomove past his uncertainty.
But Saihara doesdevelop. He changes, he improves—and he, of course, messes up along the way. Hisimprovements don’t mean that his anxiety or depression or suicidal thoughts aremagically “cured”—and as someone who has struggled with anxiety and depressionmyself, I can appreciate that, because it’s realistic. Those things never justmagically go away or stop being a thing, but it’s important to know that it ispossible to keep going in life, to keep taking even one step forward even whenyou were already inclined to give up on life—and that’s a lesson Saihara andthe other survivors learn from Kiibo by the end of Chapter 6.
Expecting every protagonist to be extroverted, brave,self-sacrificing, or to have a positive, take-charge attitude is, in myopinion, fairly unrealistic. Stories remain diverse and interesting when theircharacters are equally diverse. And considering how many characters step into the literal protagonist role in ndrv3,including not only Kaede and Kiibo but also Himiko and Maki briefly during theChapter 6 trial, and arguably Momota too if you consider that he always callshimself “the protagonist,” I would say one of the underlying themes of ndrv3 isthat “everyone is the protagonist of their own story.”
There’s no reason at all why weaker characters can’t also bea protagonist. There’s no definition stating that a protagonist has to beself-reliant or strong. Having a protagonist who not only relies on others butneeds to do so because otherwise they would be inclined to give up is arefreshing change from the norm, in my opinion. Perhaps some people might thinkof it as frustrating, which I can understand—but to me it seems incrediblyhuman, and a reminder that characters don’t have to be the strongest or thebravest necessarily to still be interesting and compelling.
Saihara probably won’t be incredibly popular in the westernfanbase even after the English localization hits, as you said. But I do wishpeople would give him more of a fair chance in his own right. He’s flawed, butthose flaws are precisely the reason he’s able to reach a different sort ofanswer than the standard “hope vs. despair” dichotomy by the end of Chapter 6. Saihara isweak, it’s true, but he’s also thoughtful, generous, and deeply compassionate.The reason that he’s so afraid of exposing the truth is because he knows howmuch it can be used to hurt others—and that knowledge is an essential part ofwhy he comes to accept lies later on too.
The understanding that gentle lies are a kind of “magic” intheir own right, something used to cope with a harsh world in order to moveforward, is one of the most centralthemes in all of ndrv3. And Saihara is one of the few protagonists capable ofreaching that understanding because of how weak he is, not in spite of it.
This is my opinion on it, of course. I’ve written quite alot of meta on why I personally like Saihara as a character, so even if henever quite becomes popular in the western fanbase, I’m okay with that—I’llstill always love him quite a lot myself. I hope this answers your question,anon!
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pleiadesounds · 6 years
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HIR ESTRIK
Luke Davies is a musician and music teacher from Penzance, Cornwall, but, like many of his fellow Cornish musicians, is based in Brighton. I first met Luke through his playing guitar for Rope, a heavy, slow, melodic post-hardcore band, but rather than talking about Rope, I wanted to focus on his wonderful experimental project ‘Hir Estrik’, in which he experiments with aspects of Neo-Classical, Musique Conrete and Sound Installation. His recent piece ‘Wild Music’ is a wonderful example of Luke’s unique approach to music, with as much focus on time, place, history and environment as on key, tempo or dynamics. It seems to me that the project represents a musician exploring his creative environment and boundaries in a way I rarely feature on Pleiadesounds, and I was excited to pick Luke’s brain about the project.
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PLEIADESOUNDS What prompted you to begin a project like Wild Music?
LUKE DAVIES The project set out with the installation ‘In Sea’ which I presented as my final thesis for a master’s degree at Sussex University last year. It was in some ways a culmination of previous projects of soundtracking for media and an analogue audio/visual installation. The development process felt very organic and things just seemed to fall into place as I worked on it over a few months. The technical and compositional aspects, however, took a little longer to get from brain to a more tangible thing. My focus has always been in composition. I would really like to compose both on a personal level but also for various media (tv/film etc). At uni I was encouraged, for the first time, to really explore something new and to follow passions rather than do something overly safe. My first project involved creating a visual ‘documentary’ (I’m using that term extremely loosely here) looking at Cornish heritage using mostly found footage from old archive material. After editing the short film I wrote and recorded a score to go alongside. My second project was an analogue tape based sound instillation/performance. I took proven failed rhetoric from politicians and created a long tape loop from these soundbites. I then distorted and destroyed this loop slowly over time whilst playing and manipulating various other analogue loops and effects to create an increasingly oppressive and uncomfortable piece. The idea was to show how corrosive and destructive this rhetoric is, but unless any sort of action is taken to counter it then it can only become increasingly worse. WM started very much as an extension, combination and development of these two projects.
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PS What are some of your goals with Wild Music?
LD To begin with the main goal was to complete my course. That’s not to dismiss the project in anyway, there is a lot of theory underlining the concept, but it wasn’t until a few different thought processes came together that I saw the potential of exploring WM further. That could be in new locations or exploring new techniques to incorporate the environment compositionally. The places and spaces that Wild Music could occupy are almost endless and I would love the chance to see where it could go. I have ideas for woodlands, mountain terrain and more open spaces. I would love the idea of people coming across a sound space in the middle of nowhere and just pausing with it for a moment or two.
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PS Do you see Wild Music being more of a therapeutic experience or as an artistic installation?
LD I guess it sits somewhere between the two. It was created as an installation piece to be visited and experienced in person rather than on a screen or through a device. The idea of physically having to go to a natural space is very important to me. However, the driving ideology behind WM was the notion of creating a ‘sort of' therapeutic experience or meditative space for an individual within that environment . I want WM to give the subject a chance to focus on the sonic elements and its connection with the physical space and finally their place in the situation and their overall connection to everything. I did a lot of research on audio/visual stimuli and their effects on our mental health and tried to play on that within the experience.
PS What is the meaning behind the name ‘hir estrik’?
LD It means ‘long absence’ in Cornish. Cornwall holds a very special place in my heart and the longer I have lived away, the more I have craved eventually returning. I guess the use of ‘hir estrik’ could represent a bunch of different things, both literally and figuratively.
PS How do you see ‘hir estrik’ being translated into a live show?
LD This is something I think about regularly, but quickly dismiss. Currently, ‘hir estrik’ and what it is to me is something that I am exploring. I want to be confident that the music I do put out is something that I am 100% happy with. The flip side is that it is often a very slow process. I’m working on getting better at this. To attempt a live version, I would possibly need a few extra hands to really present the music how I would like it. Thankfully lots of my friends play music too, so not out of the question. But for now I am keeping things behind a desk I reckon. I can exercise my itch for playing live in other areas thankfully.
PS What is the significance of naming all the tracks on hir estrik’s latest album, Themes as dates?
LD The tracks are very lazily named after the days that I wrote them. I was at a period of uncertainty in my life; I had just completed my MA, was looking for work in that field or other musical ventures and had a whole host of other life crap to deal with. I wanted to focus my energy onto something positive and used my vast amount of free time to create an audio diary over a few days. Forcing myself to write and finish a track the same day was also a way of me trying to quicken my processes and train myself to be a little less precious over every detail. It was interesting to look back over the tracks a few weeks and months afterwards. The similarities and differences of the tracks in terms of structures, instrumentation etc. really do speak of the way I was viewing a lot of things at the time. It helped me start to break a bit of a negative cycle that I was getting myself into.
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PS Both of your solo projects are quite organic, soft and ambient, quite in contrast to the heavy, riffy Rope. How does hir estrik Luke differ from Rope Luke?
LD In some ways I see very little difference between the two projects. They are both ways for me to express myself as a musician, but I take different things from each process. However, there is a stark difference between creating individually and working with others. With Rope, I get to collaborate with the rest of the band, both compositionally and in a live environment. We all play well off each other and that creates a very organic feel to both the music and how we play it. Very rarely would I play the same way each time, my approach is very driven by the moment and the interactions with others. But Rope is very much the sum of its working parts and we all present something different that makes us what we are, something I am a big fan of. With hir estrik, on the other hand, I am completely left to my own devices, and this can be both a positive and a negative. From a composing point, I create a lot more on my own. It just then needs to get past my inner critic, who is a pain. I have way too many unfinished projects on the go at the moment. My approach to both outlets and my end goal remains the same, to make music and be at peace with the outcome.
PS What are you currently working on? What can we expect to hear from you in the future?
LD There are lots of words and plans scribbled in note books for both Rope and hir estrik, it’s just working out when and how to action these things best. With Rope there will hopefully be some new music released and a bunch of shows and short tours throughout the year. We have just started writing and demoing for our third LP and have some other ideas floating around that we hope to be able to pull off. For hir estrik there will be a lot more music slowly appearing. I have plans for a few short EP’s over the year, some more piano led and another more guitar focused. But I will cross those bridges as they become more apparent over time. Wild Music is a project that I hope to play out over a longer period of time. Music as physical art and instillations are a very new area to me, and I am learning a lot as I go. I’m going to look for funding and potential spaces to implement the project. I have a lot of plans for ways to improve the technological aspect and present on a bigger scale, but these things obviously come at a cost. My biggest downfall comes in self promotion, I feel very uncomfortable talking about myself or my work and projects. I guess it would be best to keep an eye on or follow the various social media outlets of each project to see the outcomes of these plans.
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HIR ASTRIK
Soundcloud      Youtube        Wild Music 
ROPE
Bandcamp      Facebook       Instagram
Text by Kai Woolen Lewis, Photographs by Monique Poirier
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recentanimenews · 5 years
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THE GREAT CRUNCHYROLL NARUTO REWATCH Solves a Mystery in Episodes 197-203
Welcome back to THE GREAT CRUNCHYROLL NARUTO REWATCH! Noelle Ogawa here, and I'm your host as we run through the latest group of episodes of Naruto! We're still deep in filler territory, but this time we're in for a longer, much more concentrated story. There's a bit of a break from the "comedy" that we've gotten used to in terms of filler, and we're moving onto something that feels a lot different than usual: The threat is more along the lines of long-term espionage, something echoing the spy work of real-life ninjas. 
  The village is in danger from a famed ninja who's been on the Anbu watchlist for quite some time. He has a plan brewing, one that's years in the making, and he's ready to execute it. The village is on high alert, and it's up to the gang of genin to save the day. And this time, the whole group is here!
  So let's see what everyone thought!
This is the first time we’ve had a major filler arc that focused more on long-term espionage VS a large military threat. Do you think they’ve handled the differences well?
Paul: Aside from some clunky writing (“Oh, look, it's the never-before-seen grandpa character that Naruto is good friends with!”) and some scenes that required everyone to act like blockheads in order to advance the plot, I enjoyed the Genno Infiltration arc. It had ninjas being sneaky, it emphasized the teamwork of all 11 of the main Genin characters, and despite it being filler, Genno's plot grew into a convincing threat that challenged three generations of Leaf Villagers.
Kevin: I’ll get more into it in my highs and lows, but in short: mostly yes. I really like the different style of enemy and flow of the arc, and especially liked how many backups Genno had planned. Then the ending happened.
Jared: I think there’s certainly some flaws in this arc, but it was fun to see how everyone handled the dual threats happening at the same time. There was enough mystery and intrigue scattered throughout with the idea of a full scale assault and/or fighting an enemy who’s already within the borders. There’s a great shot of Guy waiting for news on if they’re about to be invaded which really captures a deep feeling of dread and anxiety.
Joseph: This was one of the best filler arcs of late. The ending was just shy of Naruto farting into the camera, but the rest of it really brought everyone together, and I liked the fact that it was all set in the village. 
Danni: As far as I’m concerned, it was the best filler arc in the show so far. I found the whole thing riveting. The show never quite tipped its hand as to what Genno was up to, and Genno was a great adversary for the group. His methods were some of the most ninja-like we’ve seen from anyone, and his motives were incredibly sympathetic: Old soldier trying to complete his lifelong mission despite its futility is really interesting as is. Throwing in that late twist about his son manages to make it heartbreaking as well. Really stellar group of episodes here.
Kara: I really enjoyed this arc a lot. There were a few minor issues I had with the underpinning of it all (the uncertainty of Genno’s character was essential to the story, but some of it didn’t scan as tidily even accounting for him being undercover), but overall it felt really well thought out with genuine stakes and a chance for lots of characters to do what they do best. Also I kind of love that the main flaw in Genno’s plan stemmed from taking Naruto complaining about his buddies at face value - guess he’s never seen the show before.
Carolyn: I wasn’t a super big fan of the ending, I thought that was pretty cheesy and basically undid everything that happened before it. But overall, I enjoy seeing a different sort of threat and the opportunity to break up all the fighting. 
Unlike a lot of the filler, here the whole genin squad (and Shikamaru) are all working together. How do you think that was handled? Is there anyone you wanted to see more of?
Paul: My only complaint is that the older, more experienced ninja took too long to realize that certain elements of Genno's plans were straight out of the “Sneaky Dude Playbook”. Tricks such as faking one's own death or traps that are actually diversions must be commonplace in a world populated by shinobi, so characters like Tsunade should be more cautious before committing all of the village's fighting forces to a mission based on incomplete intel, although I guess the point is that the Fifth Hokage is still inexperienced and impulsive.
Kevin: The actual squad was probably the weakest part for me. People didn’t really bounce off of each other, and they were just kind of walking around for the most part, not even having especially interesting conversations or thinking about potential backup plans like Shikamaru eventually realized. I didn’t really get a sense of urgency outside of when the kids were about to accidentally blow up the entire village.
Jared: Everyone played their roles accordingly in the younger group which led to some interesting groups that had to work together. Unlike the other filler arcs that are just Naruto and 2-3 others, it gave everyone something to do and made them useful. Like Paul said, the older group was kind of left to dry in terms of somehow not seeing what was truly happening, so that could have been handled better.
Joseph: The division of capabilities was all pretty straightforward, but they handled it decently for the most part. Like Paul said, the hardest hurdle to jump was the fact that all the Genin somehow figured this out faster than the higher ups. I know it has to be that way, but it made Tsunade and the rest appear a little dimwitted. 
Danni: I enjoyed seeing all of them working together. It felt like a natural culmination of all their different combinations in the filler thus far. We’ve seen them all work together in various small groups, so it made sense they’d be familiar enough with one another to be able to work together as one big group. 
Kara: I liked seeing so many of them utilized. I also liked seeing Naruto’s Clone Jutsu used for something besides “literally whatever needs doing,” and the occasional reminders that our ninja kids are actually surprisingly good at what they do. It’s one thing for a random chucklehead to get knocked out by Rock Lee, but to have a master ninja genuinely impressed by Hinata’s Byakugan is pretty cool.
Carolyn: After going through almost the whole series, the Chunin exams are still my favorite arc. Anything that brings everyone back together is great in my book. I liked seeing all the characters in one place and I think everyone’s strengths were mostly catered to appropriately.
Someone you thought you were decently close to, such a neighbor or coworker, turns out to be a spy. How do you think you’d react? What would you do?
Paul: I'd dump them like a bad habit. That may sound cold, but someone I thought I knew was recently outed as a sexual predator, and I cut them out of my life and took steps to knock the pegs out of the platform that I'd unwittingly helped them build. If I found out someone I loved was plotting to destroy my entire community, I'd show them no mercy.
Kevin: Depends on if I know that they know that I know. If I think I can still act without them knowing I’m trying to stop them, I’ll probably call the authorities to get someone to act who actually has counter espionage training. If I know that I’m busted and may be putting people in danger by going through with plan A, I’ll probably just not do anything at all, since at least then I’m not making the situation worse. If the spy is about to actively harm people and I’m the only one who can do anything… honestly that’d probably be an in-the-moment decision. I’d like to think that I’d try to stop them, but I also know that my default is either of the two other plans, so jumping into action isn’t something that I’d naturally do.
Jared: I’d probably be very disappointed and sad, but at the same time, I’d have to cut them out of my life if they’re being distrustful. Although, I’d also be confused on why a spy is trying to get close to me in the first place.
Joseph: Depends on what kind of spy work they’re doing. If it seems cool, pays well, and doesn’t hurt anyone, I’d like to see what kind of cut I could get out of it. I’m kidding, of course… unless I’m not?
Danni: I’d start Googling “How to check your house for bugs. No, not that kind. The other one. The spy one.”
Kara: Like Paul, I not long ago had to drop someone hard - not a sexual predator, but a very abusive and underhanded person. It’s not entirely the same as the spy scenario, but there's a lot of similarities, with the main one being coming to terms with the fact that this person and I had never actually been friends and I was only ever a means to an end. I actually hurt for Naruto in this arc because of exactly that (although his version had a mitigating twist at the end). All you can really do is drop everything and, if at all possible, warn anyone else who might be affected.
Carolyn: Are they a good spy or a bad spy?
On the other hand, let’s say you were a ninja spy sent to infiltrate the village. How would you go about your mission? What would you do?
Paul: I'd try to take a page out of Genno's book. He was an excellent spy, and he fit in so well that he deceived an entire village of seasoned ninja not once but twice. Leaf Village only caught on to his schemes because he deliberately tipped his hand. So I'd keep my head low, perform my cover job in a slightly below average fashion, and be pleasantly mediocre in my social interactions, so as not to draw attention to myself.
Kevin: Depends on the time scale. If I have infinite time, I’d honestly probably do what Genno did: Just keep coming back to the village multiple times to set up traps and backups until I have a ridiculously convoluted web of plans that is almost impossible to counter in its entirety. If I have a limited amount of time, then it becomes more relevant to know what my exact mission is, whether I’m infiltrating to kill a target, steal a document, destroy the village, or something else. 
Jared: Genno had the right ideas in that you’ve got to be sneaky, conniving, and also be able to blend in to the point that no one’s going to miss you if you suddenly leave. You want to be able to do whatever side job that you have to do at a level that’s essentially the equivalent of a C-. Passable, but you’re not excelling. After that, it’s about getting out without anyone raising a stink about it.
Joseph: I loved Genno’s ability to be lowkey. I feel like I could totally blend into the background for a bit, but I also like attention too much to keep it up for long, and I’d probably spill the beans too soon and fail.
Danni: I can’t count the number of times at work I’ve just been going about my business like normal and a coworker beside me turns around and jumps because they had no idea I was there. I seem to naturally just have no presence wherever I go, so honestly I could probably just walk in and take whatever I need without anyone noticing. 
Kara: I’m gonna be real, I’d fail. I suck at lying and sneaking around. You know that bit in Into the Spider-Verse where Miles plays too dumb? That’s me. Don’t hire me as a spy; I’ll stay back at my village and do paperwork.
Carolyn: If you act fairly stand-offish and antisocial most people just leave you alone. So, I would do that and then do my spy thing.
Genno admits that the main reason why he went about his plan is because he felt he needed to fulfill his mission before he dies. Regardless of the morality of this choice, do you sympathize with his thought process? 
Paul: I don't agree with his goals, but I understand where Genno is coming from, and that aspect of his motivation added a spicy bit of generational conflict to a story that was already brimming with subterfuge. They also made it clear that Genno wasn't really trying to destroy Leaf Village so much as he was re-enacting a “treasure hunt” in memory of his deceased son, although I'm not sure if that particular bit of characterization was necessary.
Kevin: I sympathize with it insofar as that’s something that makes sense for an actual ninja. Even if it’s decades later, you still have a mission to fulfill. Genno’s also one of the best ninja we’ve seen in the entire show, so it makes sense that out of everyone, he’d be the one to follow through with that ideal. As an actual action, I can’t say that I agree with it. Much like any grudge, letting it fester for decades on end is admirable from one angle, but pitiable or childish from most others. 
Jared: He was a ninja to the end. I wouldn’t say I sympathize with his entire thought process, even if it was somewhat of a ruse. If he’d really been trying to harbor all of that ill will for so long, I’d consider that to be just unhealthy. 
Joseph: I don’t know that I buy the fact that the charges he left behind would only deal superficial damage to the plateau, but yeah, I can sympathize with wanting to see the fruits of your labor before you pass on. 
Danni: An old ninja caught in the existential crisis of dying before his now futile lifelong goal can be completed? Hell yeah! A devoted soldier having to come to terms with the reality that his nation has either changed or no longer exists feels like a conflict straight out of Metal Gear Solid. I love it. 
Kara: At first I wasn’t feeling it. But then I remembered ninja in this universe give literally everything to their profession. It’s the thing that’s always kind of freaked me out the most about the whole series, that level of devotion to the point of body modification, self-harm, or destroying any chances for any other roles in your life. So in that context, in the context of Naruto, I can absolutely understand feeling that need.
Carolyn: A treasure hunt was his goal, though. Could he not have done that some other way without putting an entire village on edge? I thought the ending didn’t quite make sense, to be honest.
We get another recap episode, with the top 5 fights so far. Do you agree with the choices? If not, what would your top 5 be?
Paul: The fights between the Leaf Village Genin and Orochimaru's disciples were over-represented. I don't know if I have a Top 5 exactly, but I wish Sasuke vs. Orochimaru in the Forest of Death, Rock Lee vs. Gaara during the Chunin Exams, and the Third Hokage vs. Orochimaru had made the list.
Kevin: I find it interesting that the top 5 fights basically boil down to the Sasuke Retrieval arc minus Tayuya and Kimimaro. Personally, I think that speaks volumes to how good the arc was and why it is still remembered so fondly, although I probably would’ve swapped Kiba’s fight out for Gaara vs. Lee.
Jared: I think the top 5 were surprising to say the least, and that’s also the nicest thing I can say about it. Off the top of my head, I’d probably go with Lee vs. Gaara (how on Earth did this not make it?!), Naruto vs. Sasuke (Valley of the End), Naruto vs. Gaara, Hinata vs. Neji, and maybe Third Hokage vs. Orochimaru. I’m sure parts of that would change, but the first three would probably be a lock.
Joseph: We’ve watched four or five years of Naruto in the past eight months. I don’t even remember who fought what at this point. Most of the fight choices were fine, but I’d be lying if I said I paid full attention to this episode. 
Danni: The Sasuke Retrieval arc was way too represented. I can’t say I care much for any of those fights outside of Naruto vs. Sasuke in the Final Valley. Throw in Naruto vs. Neji, Rock Lee vs. Gaara, Sasuke vs. Orochimaru, and maybe Drunken Master Rock Lee for fun. 
Kara: This should have just been 23 minutes of Lee dropping his weights. I was actually a little annoyed at this episode because it felt like the writers finally throwing stacks of papers in the air and admitting they had nothing. And then tacking cross Sasuke on the end.
Carolyn: Rock Lee, Rock Lee, Rock Lee. I would have my boy Lee against Gaara no question. And Shikamaru’s Chunin exam fight has always been a huge favorite of mine, so that would be in there, too.
Lastly, what were your highs and lows this week?
Paul: My high point was seeing Leaf Village pull together to thwart Genno's schemes. That was the Patlabor 2 of filler arcs. My low point was the recap episode, which I mostly fast-forwarded through, if I'm being entirely honest. The bit with Jiraiya, Orochimaru, and Sasuke teleconferencing into the awards show struck me as especially bizarre.
Kevin: Both related to the Genno arc:
High - The basic plot of the arc. For the past few weeks, it’s mostly been comedy and our main characters being idiots. For these episodes, they got to trace the steps of a master planner, Naruto had an emotional connection to the villain, there were obvious breadcrumbs that actually paid out well, and generally the arc was pretty well written and different from what we’ve seen.
Low - Then the ending happened, and the show tried to make us feel bad for a terrorist who tried to destroy the village because he was just trying to be remembered and he lost his son in the conflict that had originally given him his mission. No, show, you cannot tell me that he’s a good person. His last actions were to literally destroy the village. And I know that a lot of the bombs were defective because he met Naruto (who looks like his son for no reason) and he wanted to go on a treasure hunt, but that’s not good character writing. That’s just really convenient and takes out all of the tension of the rest of the plot, since now the audience knows that there’s no actual danger.
Jared: High point would be the Genno arc, as I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. Given how much we’ve had to slog through with filler, it’s nice when it’s actually decent. Low point would be the recap episode because their top five is bad and also it’s just strange how they just willingly break kayfabe in it. You could probably do some interesting things by playing with the idea that these are characters being played in a show, but it doesn’t really hit that mark here.
Joseph: High - The Genno arc was surprisingly satisfying and made me forget how bad the past couple weeks have been. Low - I have a feeling the magic haunted painting arc that started after won’t be as cool as I’d like it to be. I LOVE SPOOKY PAINTINGS THAT COME TO LIFE. 
Danni: It’s hard to choose a single high point from the Genno Arc so let’s just go with the whole thing: I loved it a lot. Low point goes to the recap episode, since only one of my favorite fights actually made it in there. 
Kara: High point is the beginning of this Yakumo arc, both because my girl Kurenai is back and because this looks like some fun horror. Yakumo’s weird face reflected in Kurenai/Naruto’s eye actually got me. (I am sure I will regret this whole sentiment before long.) Low point was the recap. I actually yelled at the screen when the whole Orochimaru thing started, which is double bad since I’m sure the intent was to hype the audience up.
Carolyn: I have to agree with Kara, as anything horror is a plus for me, even if it falls flat. And recap episodes are never interesting to me. I might also add Naruto screaming at Genno that he will never understand as long as he lives and he’s going to “live a long time!!!” That was pretty great.
And that’s it for this week! Remember that you’re always welcome to watch along with the Rewatch, especially if you’ve never seen the original Naruto! Watch Naruto today!
  Here’s our upcoming schedule:
-Next week, DANIEL DOCKERY goes through some haunts! 
-On August 16th, NICOLE MEJIAS finishes up a mission!
-And finally, on August 23rd, CAYLA COATES wraps up the Rewatch in its entirety!
CATCH UP ON THE REWATCH!
Episodes 190-196: Matchmaking Gone Wrong
Episodes 183-189: No Laughter Allowed!
Episodes 176-182: Reach for the Stars!
Episodes 169-175: Anko’s Backstory At Sea
Episodes 162-168: The Tale of the Phantom Samurai
Episodes 155-161: Quickfire Curry
Episodes 148-154: The Forest is Abuzz With Ninjas
Episodes 141-147: Mizuki Strikes Back!
Episodes 134-140: The Climactic Clash
Episodes 127-133: Naruto vs Sasuke
Episodes 120-126: The Sand Siblings Return
Episodes 113-119: Operation Rescue Sasuke
Episodes 106-112: Sasuke Goes Rogue
Episodes 99-105: Trouble in the Land of Tea
Episodes 92-98: Clash of the Sannin
Episodes 85-91: A Life-Changing Decision
Episodes 78-84: The Fall of a Legend
Episodes 71-77: Sands of Sorrow
Episodes 64-70: Crashing the Chunin Exam
Episodes 57-63: Family Feud
Episodes 50-56: Rock Lee Rally
Episodes 43-49: The Gate
Episodes 36-42: Through the Woods
Episodes 29-35: Sakura Unleashed
Episodes 22-28: Chunin Exams Kickoff
Episodes 15-21: Leaving the Land of Waves
Episodes 8-14: Beginners' Battle
Episodes 1-7: I'm Gonna Be the Hokage!
  Thank you for joining us for the GREAT CRUNCHYROLL NARUTO REWATCH! See you next time!
  Have anything to say about this batch of episodes? Let us know in the comments! We're accepting questions and comments for next week, so ask away!
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Noelle Ogawa is a contributor to Bubbleblabber and Cup of Moe. She can be found on Twitter @noelleogawa.
  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!
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THE UGLY HISTORY of the Children of God broke into wide public view in 2005, when Ricky Rodriguez — groomed from infancy to lead the cult known for sexual sharing in their communal homes — murdered his former nanny before committing suicide. Apocalypse Child, an enlightening but narrowly focused memoir by Flor Edwards, paints a more complicated picture of the group than do the lurid headlines.
Born in 1981 to rank-and-file disciples, Edwards lived far from the inner circle. Neither she nor her parents ever met David Berg, the group’s prophet and leader. Yet by Edwards’s account, Father David was ever-present through his revelations, his teachings, and his practices.
Edwards describes an unusual, fascinating, and demanding childhood — full of love and affection, but also full of disruption and uncertainty. Her family lived a peripatetic existence, moving from Spain to Sweden (where she and her twin sister were born) to Mexico to California, and on to several places in Thailand for a number of years, before returning to the United States and settling in the Chicago area.
Because memoirs must focus on the experiences of a single individual, we lose the backdrop. In Edwards’s book, that would be the larger picture of life and times in the 1970s, when Southern California was the epicenter of a religious counterculture, and when the majority of first-generation members like her parents joined in. The charismatic Lonnie Frisbee brought the Jesus People from San Francisco to Los Angeles; Chuck Smith baptized hippies on the beach near Costa Mesa, where he started Calvary Chapel; and John Wimber, a consultant to Fuller Seminary in Pasadena, established the Vineyard Fellowship in a break with Smith over exorcism and healing. (Both Wimber and Smith expelled Frisbee from their groups when they learned that he was gay, and they wrote him out of their church histories.)
The most famous, or perhaps infamous, of the Jesus Freak movements, however, was the Children of God. Renamed the Family of Love in 1978, and the Family International in 2004, most members knew it simply as the Family. The group was founded in 1968 by David Brandt Berg, a one-time minister in the mainstream Christian and Missionary Alliance. From his new pulpit on the streets in Huntington Beach, “Father David” channeled the spirit of the counterculture with his condemnation of “The System” and his promise of a coming apocalypse led by Jesus, the one true revolutionary. He was also fascinated by sex in all its forms and developed a theology that justified promiscuity — the “Law of Love.”
As a child, Flor Edwards clearly resented her parents’ religious commitment and their rejection of The System. Their decision to live communally, rather than as a nuclear family, particularly seemed to gall her. “As members of The Family, we were expected to ‘share’ our relatives with each other,” she writes, noting that some “uncles” and “aunties” were quite nice, and others were harsh disciplinarians. Her parents’ decision to “go for the gold,” and have as many children as possible, was simply additional evidence that “Mom and Dad’s loyalty was to Father David rather than to us kids.” Frequent training sessions that her parents attended as home leaders helped them focus on service to Jesus apart from the distraction of children, who “continued to take a backseat in their priorities.”
Edwards has no idea what motivated her parents to forsake the world and join Berg’s End Time army. They were trying to follow Jesus and prepare for his return in what seemed to them to be the biblical way: living hand-to-mouth, evangelizing on street corners, praying, and working in anticipation of the coming apocalypse. “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me,” said Jesus (Matthew 19:21). Adults in the Family took this injunction literally. But there was a cost to the children, as Edwards observes.
The author escaped many of the antinomian and abusive sexual conventions that existed in the Family throughout the 1980s, although she recalls seeing and, more often, hearing adults coupling in a vacant bedroom (by 1990 the group had repudiated adult-minor sexual contact and abandoned the practice of bringing in new converts via sex, which they called “flirty fishing”). She did not escape occasional discipline, however, including a memorable occasion where she was given seven hard whacks with a paddle for “disorderly conduct,” which included the “vices” of disobedience, foolishness, defiance, and pride. With the adults distracted, she and her sisters had run wild, relatively speaking — playing instead of raking leaves, wearing outside shoes inside the house, laughing through mealtime, and staying up past bedtime. She was nine years old.
But Edwards also relates warm memories of going on fun walks with her mother, creating a swimming pool in one of the family homes, and living an exotic, if challenging, life abroad. Somewhat unexpectedly, she found life trying in the United States, where she experienced bullying, ostracism, and poverty for the first time. “I had never felt shame living in Thailand,” she admits, “even though it was a third-world country and we had no money.” Her isolation from modern American life, and growing disenchantment with the Family as a teenager, led her into a hard-drinking crowd and culminated in a suicide attempt. A year in alternative high school, however, and a teacher who encouraged her to go to college set her back on track.
By the end of the memoir, Flor Edwards is a bit more forgiving and understanding of her parents, seeing children and adults alike as victims of an abusive cult. It is clear that her parents did not share this victim mentality, although they gradually drifted away from the group when they sought medical care for her mother, who was diagnosed with cervical cancer. Serious abnormalities had first appeared in 1981 while pregnant with Flor and Tamar, but her mother thought nothing about it “since the world was going to end anyway.”
Just as it is difficult today to imagine a Los Angeles teeming with Jesus Freaks, it is hard to envision the dedication required to give up everything in the belief that time on earth was short. Although Edwards does not actually use ironic quotes when writing about being “God’s End Time soldier,” they are nonetheless present.
The 1960s and 1970s lacked the pervasive sense of irony that marks our own century. Devotion, loyalty, perseverance, and ardor were not considered pathologies in that era. A counterculture had arisen that rejected the values of the 1950s — the parents’ values — in a quest for a life of meaning. One of the most self-revealing statements to appear in the book is when Edwards declares that as a child she had been “burdened with saving the world.”
Fortunately, Edwards did not suffer the molestation a few children experienced in other communal homes or the cruelties inflicted on adolescents in some of the teen homes. Indeed, her book noticeably indicates that each home had its unique culture and practices, despite the edicts that came from on high. This undermines any attempt to make vast generalizations about the Family, even though former members tend to paint the past in broad strokes on critical websites. The mistreatment that occurred in one household was absent from another, and national differences made everyone’s experience different.
Children swelled the ranks of the movement because members of the Family did not believe in using artificial contraception. As early as 1982, children made up the majority of full-time members, and this imbalance continued for several decades. As a result, leadership shifted the focus of activities from street ministry and evangelization to education and homeschooling of children.
The educational background provided in the Family appears to have been exceptional for Edwards. She reports completing the Family-created fourth-grade workbook when she was seven, but not finishing the fifth-grade book because she was busy with chores in the communal home where her family lived. Even when she began attending public school as a teenager, she and her sisters were responsible for cooking and child care. Nevertheless, Edwards managed to maintain a 4.0 grade point average in high school and gained acceptance to UC Berkeley when she was 18, as did her twin sister.
Her separation from the Family began when she graduated from high school — at least mentally and emotionally — so the memoir does not cover institutional developments that have occurred in the last two decades. These would include the 2010 “Reboot,” which abandoned the communal-home model and, in effect, dismantled the last vestige of the group’s notorious past. The Family International exists today primarily as a virtual religion. A visitor to its website would find a completely traditional evangelical Christian message. 
Apocalypse Child thus presents an absorbing snapshot of one individual’s experiences in a radically alternative movement, even though it lacks the sociological backdrop and wider lens that would have put her experience into its historical context. A reader would need to view a bigger photo album to gain a complete understanding of how that one snapshot fits.
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Rebecca Moore is Emerita Professor of Religious Studies at San Diego State University and the author of Beyond Brainwashing: Perspectives on Cult Violence (Cambridge University Press, 2018).
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