#it’s also a great silencing tactic because no one wants to agree with a karen lest they be called w karen as well

[vvitchy]

people just call any woman karen. they don’t even have to be doing anything wrong but they’ll be labelled as a karen anyways. and now normal interactions you see in public that could be a misunderstanding or easily misconstrued are filmed by people who don’t understand boundaries and it gets put on tiktok so they get attacked by hundreds of thousands of people for being potentially unpleasant

[gffa]

Light of the Jedi | by Charles Soule Even after I’d turned the page from this moment, my mind kept drifting back to it, because the context of the story is that there’s so much belief and faith placed in the Jedi in this book, how there’s this sense of the galaxy around them being rather awe-struck by them. As well as moments like this from the Jedi themselves:

And it reminded me so strongly of a conversation between Obi-Wan and Bail in Wild Space by Karen Miller:        "All I meant," [Bail] said at last, his voice tight, "is that it's a shame the other people hurt in the terrorist attacks can't experience the same benefits of Jedi healing that you did." He looked up, then, and his eyes were haunted. "I saw some of them, you know. After. And even with intensive bacta treatment there are now children who'll have to go through life hideously maimed and disfigured. It's…sad. It's cruel. That's all I meant."        The man's compassion was laudable, but his inferences were insulting. "I think what you meant, Senator, is that it's somehow unfair that I'm not sharing their fate," Obi-Wan snapped. And then he caught hold of his temper. Crushed it before he said something truly unfortunate. "It's not because we don't care," he continued, far more moderately. "We do, I assure you. However, healing is one of our rarest gifts. We help as many as we can, wherever we can, and keenly regret that we cannot help more. But are you saying that because we can't help everyone, we shouldn't help anyone?"        "No. I'm sorry," said Organa, shaking his head. "This isn't coming out right. I really am on your side, you know. I admire the Jedi enormously. I am in awe of what you do. But in case you hadn't noticed it, this war has thrust you onto center stage. You're in the news every day. Everything you do is being examined. Magnified. And when the novelty's worn off, it's going to be second-guessed, and maybe even held up for censure. Especially if the war drags on, or doesn't go our way. Because you have been placed on a pedestal as tall as any Coruscant skyscraper."        "That was never our intention, Senator, I assure you."        "I know," said Organa. "But you're up there regardless. You're the Jedi, Master Kenobi. Larger than life and twice as hard to kill. Still, the more systems the Separatists entice or strong-arm to their side, the more suffering and fear the Republic experiences, the closer the Separatists creep to the Core, and the longer it takes the Jedi to end this conflict—the harder your pedestal is going to rock. Especially if it's perceived that you're not suffering like everyone else."        "Not suffering, Senator?" he said, incredulous. "After Geonosis? After the engagements we've fought already? And losing the Falleen battle group? Must the Jedi Temple itself fall before it can be agreed that the Jedi are also paying a price for this war we did not start?"        "Of course not," said Organa. "I'm talking about perception, not reality. The bedrock of politics. I think you'll grant it's one of my areas of expertise."        The least honorable of them all. Obi-Wan nodded. "I concede your point."        "And I wish you didn’t have to," Organa replied. "Master Kenobi, the Jedi have been the Republic's peacekeepers for generations. Citizens are used to you solving their local problems. Their community disputes. But we both know that what we're facing is far more complicated. And I promise you, I promise—when things get really bad you will be blamed."        Curd-and-vegetable stew forgotten, Obi-Wan stared in silence at the Senator from Alderaan.        "I'm sorry," said Organa, turning away. "'You don't have to say it. I'm just a politician. It's none of my business."        Just a politician? No. Far from it. Now it was clear why Padmé liked and trusted this princeling from Alderaan. He was…unexpected.        "The Jedi aren't blind, Senator," he said at last. "We're perfectly aware that our elevation in the public eye is problematic. We opposed it vigorously. We continue to oppose it. We are, as you say, peacekeepers. Not celebrities. The Supreme Chancellor should reconsider his tactics. We feel very strongly there is a chance they could end up doing us more harm than good." That this is a big part of the problem and what went wrong--the galaxy got so used to the Jedi bringing miracles to them, that no matter how hard the Jedi tried to oppose it, the public still demanded that they keep performing those miracles, keep solving all their problems, keep fighting their wars for them. And you see it here, in the High Republic.  The public thinks, “Miracles are for the Jedi.”  The Jedi are expected to bring these incredible feats of nobility and space magic and heroicism, which is great and saves the day!  But you do that for a hundred years and then suddenly, when you can’t save everyone, when you have an almost literal unwinnable war that’s being laid at your feet, and a bad faith government who holds power over you and your own power is basically trapped in this incredibly narrowly defined window and you can’t possibly turn your back on the people who still need your help, all while you never wanted and even vigorously opposed being put on this pedestal in the first place? It just really hit me like a brick how something so good can be turned on the people who just wanted to do their best to help others.