#just wildly oscillating between these two emotions constantly

[deankarolina]

anytime I’m in a city it’s like oh I have fallen in love with the world 100 times over again and also I have never felt such intense rage in my life

[lavendershowcase]

Pink Pony Club: LGBT books with pink covers (that was the whole criteria this month, starting chill)

Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl by Andrea Lawlor

It’s 1993 and Paul Polydoris tends bar at the only gay club in a university town thrumming with politics and partying. He studies queer theory, has a dyke best friend, makes zines, and is a flaneur with a rich dating life. But Paul’s also got a secret: he’s a shapeshifter. Oscillating wildly from Riot Grrrl to leather cub, Paul transforms his body and his gender at will as he crossed the country––a journey and adventure through the deep queer archives of struggle and pleasure.

Of note: 90s queer culture, debut novel, Lawlor received the Whiting award for this novel

Your Driver is Waiting by Priya Guns

Damani is tired. Her father just died on the job at a fast-food joint, and now she lives paycheck to paycheck in a basement, caring for her mom and driving for an app that is constantly cutting her take. The city is roiling in protests–everybody’s in solidarity with somebody–but while she keeps hearing that they’re fighting for change on behalf of people like her, she literally can’t afford to pay attention.     Then she gives a ride to Jolene (five stars, obviously). Jolene seems like she could be the perfect girlfriend–attentive, attractive, an ally–and their chemistry is off the charts. Jolene’s done the reading, she goes to every protest, and she says all the right things. So maybe Damani can look past the one thing that’s holding her back: she’s never dated anyone with money before, not to mention a white girl with money. But just as their romance intensifies and Damani finally lets her guard down, Jolene does something unforgivable, setting off an explosive chain of events.

Of note: satire, "gender-flipped Taxi Driver"

Gwen and Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher*

It’s been hundreds of years since King Arthur’s reign. His descendant, Arthur, a future Lord and general gadabout, has been betrothed to Gwendoline, the quick-witted, short-tempered princess of England, since birth. The only thing they can agree on is that they despise each other. They’re forced to spend the summer together at Camelot in the run up to their nuptials, and within 24 hours, Gwen has discovered Arthur kissing a boy and Arthur has gone digging for Gwen's childhood diary and found confessions about her crush on the kingdom's only lady knight, Bridget Leclair. Realizing they might make better allies than enemies, they make a reluctant pact to cover for each other, and as things heat up at the annual royal tournament, Gwen is swept off her feet by her knight and Arthur takes an interest in Gwen's royal brother.

Of note: YA, historical

*I personally recommend this book! There's interesting world building, playing with Arthurian legends. It's fun and tropey but not without genuinely emotional moments. And it's just such a good read. Bonus points for a character having an unnamed medical condition that shares symptoms with endometriosis.

Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuinston

When his mother became President, Alex Claremont-Diaz was promptly cast as the American equivalent of a young royal. Handsome, charismatic, genius―his image is pure millennial-marketing gold for the White House. There's only one problem: Alex has a beef with the actual prince, Henry, across the pond. And when the tabloids get hold of a photo involving an Alex-Henry altercation, U.S./British relations take a turn for the worse. Heads of family, state, and other handlers devise a plan for damage control: staging a truce between the two rivals. What at first begins as a fake, Instragramable friendship grows deeper, and more dangerous, than either Alex or Henry could have imagined. Soon Alex finds himself hurtling into a secret romance with a surprisingly unstuffy Henry that could derail the campaign and upend two nations and begs the question: Can love save the world after all? Where do we find the courage, and the power, to be the people we are meant to be? And how can we learn to let our true colors shine through?

Of note: adapted into a movie in 2023

We Were the Universe by Kimberly King Parsons

The trip was supposed to be fun. When Kit’s best friend gets dumped by his boyfriend, he begs her to ditch her family responsibilities for an idyllic weekend in the Montana mountains. They’ll soak in hot springs, then sneak a vape into a dive bar and drink too much, like old times. Instead, their getaway only reminds Kit of everything she’s lost lately: her wildness, her independence, and—most heartbreaking of all—her sister, Julie, who died a few years ago. When she returns home to the Dallas suburbs, Kit tries to settle in to her routine—long afternoons spent caring for her irrepressible daughter, going on therapist-advised dates with her concerned husband, and reluctantly taking her mother’s phone calls. But in the secret recesses of Kit’s mind, she’s reminiscing about the band she used to be in—and how they’d go out to the desert after shows and drop acid. She’s imagining an impossible threesome with her kid’s pretty gymnastics teacher and the cool playground mom. Keyed into everything that might distract from her surfacing pain, Kit spirals. As her already thin boundaries between reality and fantasy blur, she begins to wonder: Is Julie really gone?

Of note: considered "a most anticipated novel," released July 2024

[accultant]

His laugh makes them flinch almost imperceptibly. He doesn't usually laugh so much. Victoriously, over a mutilated corpse, maybe, but Not like this.

He's too comfortable, they realize as they watch him gather himself. It doesn't seem quite right to explain it like that, seeing how he's nervous and tripping over his words. But his shoulders are more relaxed than Iago has seen them in years. His smiles come naturally, like breathing, like when they were young. His body language is looser, less ... Monitored (translation: holding himself together with all he has, scared to be anywhere even near Iago in case the effort slips for even a second). It's not they don't want their brother to be comfortable - they would give anything, kill anything, do anything to let their brother feel comfortable in his own skin for just five minutes - it just isn't... right. They're missing something, and their emotions oscillate wildly from furious to concerned to curious every few seconds while they wait for an explanation.

They remain still, watching him fumble, trying (failing) to put the pieces together in between his frantic starts and stops. He seems almost as exasperated as Iago by the time he finally gets out something resembling a coherent sentence.

The inn is plenty loud, lots of chatter and celebration to fill in the silence Iago leaves the two of them in.

They simply stare at him.

They continue to stare at him.

They are still staring at him.

They think they should probably say something, right?

It could've been a minute, maybe two or three or ten. Hard to say. Their hands are sparking up quite a bit now. They should probably go-

"Outside," they say curtly with a beckoning nod, pushing away from the bar and making a beeline for the exit.

Something must truly be wrong if they're stupid enough to ask him to follow them- it allows their back to be turned (rookie move!). When this doesn't devolve into a chase and Iago notes the distinct lack of a knife in said back, they stop and face him again.

"You are a horrible liar, Puck, and it is your only saving grace at the moment. Because that sounds insane. That sounds unbelievable. It is- it's illogical. That sounds-"

They go to run their hands through their hair and figure that could very likely end with them casting fireball into their own skull, so they clench their own cloak instead, pacing a few feet away before they turn back to him again, taking their turn to be flustered, "I am supposed to be mad at you! Or- some version of you- Oh, this is going to be much too convoluted. A cursed mirror? Really, Puck? I waited a month for this and you're not even the you I thought I found! That sentence hardly even makes sense, this is wretched. I had questions, you know! I was- I expected explanations, answers, not... more questions about something completely unrelated to why I- why you- I don't even know where to start!" Their brain feels like it's running overtime to readjust their course. Of all the things he could have said, Iago was least expecting that.

Somewhere, there is still the very small, very stubborn, very delusional part of Iago that dreams of a future, holds onto the tiniest, most pathetic sliver of hope for a better life for their brother and themselves. It's something they constantly try to smother. It's embarrassing, really, that such a small little piece of them flutters to life as Puck's predicament sinks in. The future seems like something that happens to other people, surely not the Darlingtons. Standing before him, they almost feel taunted by their brother, the one with a future. Scarred but alive. More prone to smiling, it seems. Still calling them Ia. He's 'done this before'. He knows how this- whatever this is- ends.

They're hit with a wave of vertigo and practically vibrating at just how much they want to know, just how many things they have to ask-

"I have to help you get back (if that's even how that works!!), yes?" They finally speak after they realize they've left him in silence again, somehow finding their voice again amidst the dozens, maybe hundreds, of questions and the barrage of conflicting emotions threatening to eat them alive. Your baby brother needs help, they remind themselves. He asked Iago for help. That comes first.

They cringe as the air feels briefly electric and their hands burn for a quarter of a second as a spell is torn out of them. There's a pathetic bleat from somewhere inside the inn. "Not a word. Now tell me about this mirror."

the laugh comes easily to him.  ❝  i am very grateful for that, i assure you.  ❞  his voice is light & teasing but genuine all the same. puck knows all too well how easily iago could wipe out the entire building if they felt like it ⸻ or even if they didn’t. especially if they didn’t. in any case, he feels bad for laughing, but there’s something almost morbidly charming about the situation. nostalgic, certainly. it is, of course, just like old times  . . . 

he has to stop with the jokes. it’s getting really quite bad, actually. 

puck lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when they acquiesce. his relief comes with a pang of guilt as he remembers who it is standing in front of him. this iago is a mouse trapped in his claws. to this day, he can’t remember if he’d done such a thing to them on purpose. he doesn’t want to know.  

at the very least, he is comforted by the fact that he has always been a bad liar, and iago has always been able to read him better than anyone else. he’s sure they’ll be able to realize the insanity about to leave his lips is the truth. 

❝  all right. i don’t quite know how i’m going to explain this so, um- just keep that in mind, yes ？ excellent, okay, let’s see . . .  ❞ he pauses to think for what is likely an unbearably long amount of time for his poor sibling. finally, he huffs impatiently & blurts out a clearly very well-thought out remark,  ❝  i am not actually the puck you’re angry with.  ❞  

oh, sure, that makes sense. idiot. 

quickly, he continues, unsure where he’s going but sure that he doesn’t want iago grasping at straws any more than they already are.  ❝  i mean, i am ⸻ or i was ⸻ but i’m not anymore. (ugh, gods, that doesn’t make sense ⸻ ) we’ve done this before ！ okay, not this specifically, but i knew you would be here because it happened in the past. decades ago ！my past, that is. your present.  ❞   he pauses, out of breath & painfully aware of how poor of a job he’s doing in explaining. with an agonized glance, he adds, ❝  i am so sorry for that, truly. you have no idea. literally. because i haven’t actually said a single coherent thing yet, have i ？ ❞

not even in the slightest. an exasperated sigh, and he hisses, barely managing to keep his voice low, ❝  gods, look, i am from the future ！ i stared too hard into a weird mirror & got thrown back to the past ！！ i am not supposed to be here, ia; i already did this ！！！ ❞

there. really, how hard can it be to say something like that ？！

[lekorojams]

Anyone else ever notice that, based on the information we have, the general level of quality of the canon toa teams of g1 pretty much increased gradually over time?

Toa Cordak: Failed to prevent their Turaga from sending the entire population of matoran they were watching over to Karzahni for no legitimate reason. Entire team wiped out in one mission. Sole survivor spends the rest of his life crippled by guilt and trauma. Not saying they couldn’t have done awesome stuff in-between all that, but again, all the concrete information we HAVE about them paints them in a very bad light.

Jovan's team: Admittedly an outlier to this theory, by all accounts they're pretty cool.

Toa Mangai: Pros: Actually have some documented successful missions this time. Team leader was extremely well regarded and is remembered in legend as a model toa (compare that to how Lessovik disgraces himself and is then forgotten by the world at large). Cons: Not one, but TWO members turn evil and betray their teammates. Remaining members become complicit in the enforcement of an oppressive, dystopian police state before they are picked off one by one by the very government they served. They fail to realize there's a hostile takeover happening until it's too late.

Toa Metru: Pros: The whole team actually manages to survive into turagahood. All things considered they do a pretty excellent job of cleaning up the Mangai’s mess and diverting the disaster as best they can. Only one betrayal this time, and it happens when none of them are really in their right minds and is eventually rectified. Cons: Their team cohesion is just... a mess. And they really don’t get their act together until they’re turaga. They dislike each other for no apparent reason since the moment they meet. They’re constantly slowed, stopped, or set back by their own bickering. Two of their team members in particular seem to HATE the team leader and actively try to undermine him and damage his self-esteem. Said team leader is arguably incompetent. He oscillates wildly between paralyzing insecurity and straight-up tyranny. He relies heavily on emotional hand-holding from two of his teammates, one of which actually used to be one of the aforementioned bullies. And he’s the one that betrays the team he’s supposed to be leading.

Toa Mata/Nuva: Pros: No betrayals this time, short of brief instances of what basically amounts to mind control. Eventually become the gold standard by which toa teams are measured in terms of morality, power, and team cohesion. Arguably achieve the most and are the most important out of any of the teams on this list. Cons: In their early days, their team cohesion isn’t the best. Not as bad as the Metru but still... not the best. Most of them start off with oversized egos and clashing personalities. They split up and refuse to work together multiple times. Once again, the guy who’s the designated team leader isn’t all that great of a leader until later on. They are not above literally, physically fighting each other to settle their differences. Yes, they eventually become the greatest toa team in history but... it takes a while.

Toa Inika/Mahri: Pretty much a model toa team from the very beginning. No betrayals, no breakups, no fights. They start off as friends and remain friends throughout their mission. Sure, they bicker with each other, but never in a way that seriously endangers each other or their team cohesion (take notes Metru). They accomplish arguably the most dangerous and crucial mission on the path to awakening Mata Nui. They are willing to sacrifice their own lives for the sake of the mission, and even when one of them makes that incredibly difficult decision, there’s an understanding from the rest of his team that this is how things need to happen. There’s a certain trust and synergy with this team that we don’t really see with any other team in the canon.

[benlaksana]

Hope and hopelessness

I grew up as a Catholic, went through the rituals of baptism and even catechism. Which up to this day I’m not entirely sure what that actually means. This just shows how much of a Catholic I am. To be honest I never really understood why I went through all that, but I guess peer pressure can often take you to places you never intended to go to. This remains true to this day, although to a lesser extent. I think.

Interestingly enough I consider my family as half-heartedly religious. By that I mean, the only person I considered religious in my family was my father. Sunday churches, prayers before dinner, my dad was central in reminding us to do these religious chores. Everyone else just went with the flow of the spiritual (and moral) ideals of the man of the house.   

Although I was never particularly religious, and have now perhaps shaken off whatever Catholic/Christian labels I have left in me (not that I had much to begin with that is), I did always know though based on this religious upbringing that I was a minority in Indonesia. The obligatory religious identity written on our national identity cards constantly reminded me of this. However, I didn’t at that time understand the implications of having such an identity even if it was purely administrative purposes.

However, to be honest, my experiences of growing up as a minority didn’t necessarily make me feel like a minority. Even if most of my schooling that I went through in Indonesia, which amounts to a hefty 11 years of my youth, were mostly in private Catholic schools, the schools and universities were open to non-Catholics. And so, I made friends, very good friends with non-Catholics, non-Christians, and of course with many Muslims. The predominant religion in Indonesia.

This was never an issue for me. As my own late grandfather from my mother’s side was a Muslim and a huge chunk of my family up until this day are Muslims. The majority-minority labels and the baggage that comes with it were not non-existent but just unimportant in my life. It was a bit foreign or even odd if someone were to bring it up trying to solidify a magical boundary between us and them. Religion was never a hindrance towards building family ties, friendship or even my own personal pursuit in finding love. I think I can honestly say that building relationships with people of differing religious backgrounds was just normal. Mundanely normal.

I had the naivety (and to be honest I think I still continue to do so) that the difference in personal religious beliefs could always be transcended by the realization of how as human beings we are fundamentally no different from each other. Physically, emotionally and first and foremost existentially. Everyone had blood coursing through their veins, feeding their minds and hearts that gives birth to emotions that we all can understand and relate to. And everyone has and will continue to ask, some through openly written pieces and public discourses, some secretly during their morning showers, of the meaning of life or how to have a meaningful life or variations of this question.

Basically, I just saw religious differences as inconsequential in building relationships, again be it romantic or platonic, as we all are tormented by the same wish to understand our existence, our individual importance in a vast sea of people.

This somewhat fatalist view of diversity is I guess the reason why I felt that I could connect, befriend, be respected, and be truly loved by all regardless of their religious beliefs. Which then made me feel part of something bigger than myself. I had a sense of belonging with the society, my Indonesian society. My approach to religious diversity was of course, I soon found out, not shared by all, not even many.

Fast forward this a few years later and it is overtly apparent that Indonesia is embroiled in sectarian tensions and conflicts and it turns out, to my dismay, has historically always been that way. Perhaps not as alarming as today but nonetheless it is nothing new.

In the past few years, I’ve witnessed how some of my personal relationships with friends, neighbours, family, have changed. Outlooks on life, social values and morals have been reshaped through a more conservative and many times segregated lens. Collective ideas or wishes of where Indonesia should be headed have become vastly different. A widening gap of the social imagination imagined by the divided imagined community.

I find it sad if not tragic that my own academic research only reaffirms this, and it seems that Rara’s research so far also confirms this.

Truthfully, at times like this, I feel disconnected, disenchanted, alienated & most definitely I feel powerless. I feel that my connection with this nation-state called Indonesia, that my citizenship, my legal, cultural, emotional connection with the land I was born in is useless and pointless.

And I write this in English, not in my so-called native tongue of Indonesian. With the reason being English is the language I grew up with (due to the privilege of having a highly-educated family). English has become my most fluent language, the one that I am most comfortable with, it is the language I think in. If I were to use Indonesian in speaking, my brain would take a few precious seconds translating it before sputtering it out. It has helped me though to listen more, deep listening, that it in itself is quite positive I reckon. Especially living in a society where people are wanting more to be heard. If I were to use Indonesian for writing, it is a tremendously taxing effort, thankfully for this I have Rara to help me edit many of my writings. And I truly understand that by using English as my main communicating language I am alienating myself even further.

I am a minority in many ways aside from my ‘legal religion’ or my ideas on life and society. 

I do though find the innocence of many Indonesians amusing if not briefly alluring when they talk how beautiful Indonesia’s natural scenery is, or how diversely unique Indonesia is, or how resource rich Indonesia is blessed with and most certainly how patriotic Indonesians are with their red and white flags. Often quite excessively. Sometimes even drawing from historical footage of our brave forefathers fighting against Dutch and Japanese colonialism to make their point. They all seem to be blissfully unaware of the deep-seated issues continuously dividing Indonesians. Issues of religious and social conservatism, ahistorical understandings and normalized injustices just to name a few, so deeply ingrained within the consciousness of many.

Some might say then that ignorance is bliss. But then I would think that we would then be unaware how often unseen structural forces governs our lives. We would live life, at many times in anger, sadness or even despair yet oblivious of its deep structural causes. Then if that is the case, does knowledge of which give us the impenetrable sight to see these determining hands of our lives, also provide us with the pleasure of knowing such a thing? Does knowing give us hope? Is hope essentially about not only knowing more of the conditions in which we live in but also by knowing these conditions we would then find some form of solution that gives us hope in return. 

I feel more of a minority today than when I was in high school or university which come to think of it was more than 10 years ago. To have gained the knowledge to see how remnants of colonialism, a gripping hold of state capitalism, seeping neoliberalism, persistent feudalism, ever-growing fundamentalism, consuming consumerism, and a dumbing education system have all been rolled into one. This knowledge is either damning or enlightening or a sad mixture of both, reflecting nothing more than the contradictory nature of the human being. It is not just the condition of which my society is in that I often weep for, but the lack of progress within these shameful areas that disheartens me. I do in many way feel hopeless.

I am sure Indonesia will become “makmur” or wealthy in the near future. Economists have prophesied this, partially thanks to our abundance in population and our unhinged consumeristic lifestyle. But the increase of wealth does not automatically translate into a more critical, inclusive, democratic citizen, which we desperately need in a precarious time such as now. We would need much more than wealth. Nor does Indonesia’s damning current education system provide such a thing. Those who only actively support such a system, in whatever they do, I only see them as accomplices in preserving the uncritical state of Indonesia’s citizens.

What I then struggle with now is the constant oscillation between hope and hopelessness, the comprehension and acceptance of my current reality and the possibility of some kind of better future. I am looking for a more consistent form of hope.

Come to think of it, it would be foolish for me to define the singular nature or source of hope. Hope I’ve come to realize, can be one, it can be many, it can move wildly from one to another. It can evolve from one to many, or be reduced from many to one. Hope is everything that gives value to one’s soul. 

I guess this is where my fusion of social sciences, which I understand is becoming more grounded in Marxist-Freirean views on critical citizenship, and engaged Buddhism kicks in. Where I’ve noticed over the years has become a constant endeavour to find consensus between the two (liberation theology of revolutionists from South America is a clear influence to this though). As what gives value to one’s life, to my life, is what I consider to be deeply personal, a deep insight into the self yet at the same time intertwined with being more empathetically responsive to my socio-political milieu.

However, while my interest and empathy towards society is one of the main driving force of my social activities, what gives me hope to act towards societal injustices resides within my personal relationships. Especially my relationship with Rara. This I’ve noticed can become an issue. I often would think what it would be like if she is no longer here with me? What would happen to me?

I am afraid to lose Rara, as my life clearly rotates around her presence. That is why I fear the inevitable. What do you do when you have the experiential knowledge that life will end? What do you do with this understanding? What do you do when you try to escape from this, and realize that you will only eventually return to this. That there is no escape, only temporary forgetfulness or deliberate denial. What if I were the one to pass away? What would happen to Rara?

Rara is perhaps not only my source of hope, but she is hope itself. It is what the anthropologist Michael D. Jackson, while studying the Kuranko tribe of Sierra Leone, calls on alternative names of hope. Rara is the alternative name of hope for me. She is what gives value and meaning in my life. Other issues, I can clearly attest to this, are secondary.

I do though realize I ask these questions because I am traumatized, greatly traumatized by my father’s quick and sudden death 5 years ago. And I’ve realized it has been that long and I have yet to move on from it. I guess I’ve come to accept that there is no magic cure for grief, no magic drug that can easily lift this burdensome pain away. You end up just living with it, carrying it everywhere, every time. During your highest and proudest moments in life, during the lowest, most depressing moments in life. Both of which amplifies grief. One through the desire to share your achievements with your loved one, whom you then realize is no longer here. The other is when you have nothing and wish your dad, who you realize is no longer here to come back for a brief moment and give you a pat in the back or a nice simple encouraging warm hug. And let us not also forget that we carry grief most often in the everyday mundanity of life. This is why grief is excruciatingly oppressive.

But until another excruciating day comes, I’ll be carrying this hope close with me wherever I go, and whatever I do. My work has to have value and meaning and for it to have value and meaning it has to come from a place of value and meaning. I remain hopeful of the world and of Indonesia and humanity in general because hope is the only thing that keeps us all from being pointless.

And watching the world pass by, at times with elongated sighs, I genuinely understand how easy it is to fall prey to the bottomless pit of futility.

Rereading what I just wrote, that probably didn’t make any sense, but hey at least I finally updated my blog after a year even if it was just unfinished thoughts.

[anmousewrites]

Gundam Wing Rewatch Part 2

So unlike last time where I watched half the series and then tried to remember everything, this time I took notes the whole way through. That means some of this has a ‘live-blog’ feel to it, and I’ll sum up my feelings at the end.

1) What is up with Duo hitting the self destruct and not... self destructing. 2) See, now you’re back to being Zechs. I guess he defaults to Zechs when he isn’t sure of himself, because it is a facade that is comforting to him (added later: yeah, he definitely uses that side of him as a crutch) 3) Praise the Lord for Releena Peacecraft and Lucretzia Noin Re: creating defenses for the sanc kingdom. Actually praise the lord for them anyways. 4) Heero oscillates between being very communicative and exceptionally taciturn.  I don’t think he does it at will. The lying, however, I think he’s completely aware of although he might not know how to stop it. Get this boy a therapist please. 5) Quatre makes an interesting distinction between people meant to fight and people meant to lead 6) Treize stop being charming. Just stop. 6b) You too, Zechs

So Epyon showed Treize he was gonna die, which explains why he wasn’t really worried about Heero shooting him. I guess if Epyon shows the same thing to Heero, Treize will feel a little better about having to cut out of the party early. Kind of sad to think about though. Also, wise when giving a suit to Heero Yuy to take the self det offline. Very wise.

That answers a question I have had since childhood. Why does Epyon not have any ranged weapons? Because it was designed to fight mobile dolls, who have shields that render anything but the beam canon useless. Maaaakes sense. WHO THOUGHT THE ZERO SYSTEM WAS A GOOD IDEA? Like just... Everyone who touches it goes crazy. Yes, Heero, Quatre and Zechs all manage to make it work, but GATDANG that stuff is no bueno.

Amnesiac Trowa breaks my fucking heart. I don’t blame Catherine for having him call her sister, because she basically is, so it does make things a little easier to explain. Every time he shows up I similarly feel wildly protective so good job. Also A+ for a female character who likes to show up without wearing much and is never treated less by the narrative for it.

Hilde never really gets to the same level of greatness as the other female characters, but that’s kind of fair. The cast of GW is huge. She’s not bad, she’s just a little bland.

Also, weirdly, playing against type, Heero’s ongoing deep philosophical understanding of human nature and politics and Quatre’s ability to seamlessly slide through a battlefield leaving blood in his wake. There’s a lot less stereotyping going on than I remember. LOL @ Romefeller constantly trying to play catch-up to Treize’s charisma The fight against the invasion force at the Sanc Kingdom actually has me emotionally invested? Also Epyon is a Problem Child (TM). MAGUANAC COOOOOOORPS. Kay I love them idgaf they’re just SO GOOD. The Sanc Kingdom takeover must have been one of the most costly things they’ve attempted? Like the amount of troops they go through is bonkers.

Dorothy, you’re a wad. “You should definitely take up arms to defend your ideals of pacifism.” Releena ain’t falling for that. She’d rather dissolve her country and save the lives than betray her morality.

EPISODE 36 MARKS THE FIRST TIME RHYTHM EMOTION IS PLAYED IIRC AND IT’S GREAT. Ngl they play it a few times when things get real and it still hypes me up.

Heero and Zechs are two people who spend way more time fighting each other than they should. Why, guys.

“They should leave the fighting to me. I’m the only one who should have to suffer.” DUO JEEZ. “As they say, evil attracts evil.” Fucking get this boy to a therapist.

Lol @ Sandrock’s first fight in space where everyone else is really worried about the gundam but it is actually the least well equipped for space atm so really they should be worrying about the other guys

Man, I like Treize, okay? Like I think his idea is dumb (he’s not the only one with it though sideeyes Code Geass but like... He trades Releena spots for a bunch of reasons. One, she was going to be successful and that’s an issue. But also because he knows that if things go well, somebody’s going to have to die, and when he is talking to a comatose Une at her bedside (btw UNE’S BACK, kinda) it’s just... it’s sad. YAAAAY Everyone is finally in the same spot for once. I guess that’s how you know we’re getting near the end. Functional Amnesiac Trowa is a lot easier to watch, and Duo and Heero reuniting is a great time.  It reminds you how likeable they all are.

Amnesia cure via Zero System WELL THAT WORKS Also p surprised that Releena didn’t vidcall Milliardo with ‘what the fuck are you doing’

The politics/philosophy in GW really varies in quality. Sometimes they have some Important Shit to say, and other times it’s like... what does that even MEAN THOUGH. After a completely nonsensical conversation with Releena where half of what was said was pretty dumb (except her call-out. Burn.) they then manage to salvage it with something profound. Milliardo asks Quinze if he thinks that he’s weak for what he just saw with his sister. Quinze replies that no, in Milliardo wasn’t capable of trying to protect people, he wouldn’t be leader. That’s a very fair point I think.

Quatre begging not to go under the Zero system again sounds like he’s asking someone not to torture him... which it basically is. But him basically deciding to risk his sanity to help the team is very Quatre of him, and it also gives us Team Leader Quatre which is a bit of a subversion of his character archetype and I love it.

What are the rules to Space Empathy TM? No one know.

Okay sometimes this show really nails the badass elements. “There are no survivors.” Is an example. I laughed, but wow

Heero insinuating that Milliardo and Treize’s war is based on personal things (which is true, in a roundabout way) is kind of hilarious. His conversation with Releena is cute, too. His unfailing motivation in turn motivates her, and she’s shown time and time again how hilariously good she is at influencing people. They have very different roles, but they’re complimentary.

Hilde... redeems herself a little. It was nice to see her go out and DO a thing. Also, gimme my Une. Why she still asleep. Her boyfriend is gonna die in space. Where is my Une.

Screaming a little. I don’t remember how the series ends or how Treize dies. This is gonna be rough.

There’s Une. Suddenly, and like a boss. Hello. And then... does Une know? Like does she KNOW? It sounds like she does. It LOOKS like she does.

Okay so... the Dorothy and Quatre fight. He’s got her beat, talent-wise, and is absolutely not buying into the bullshit she’s spouting. Duo calling the scientists ‘the gods of plague’ is VERY fitting and I love his overdramatic ass so much. Dorothy is a cheap jerk... and she somehow discovered Treize’s plan. I reluctantly give her credit. She’s an interesting character but I really don’t like her much.

And Quatre, after being STABBED, still joins back in the fight.

I’m not sure why Zechs is till fighting in the end unless it’s to chase death. I mean, that’s probably it, and Heero isn’t buying it. Also Treize’s death was a lot harder to watch than I remember. Zechs is definitely trying to die in space, but we’ve all seen Endless Waltz. It doesn’t stick.

Heero shouting that he will survive, after how much he degrades himself and says he isn’t worth anything, is a great end. And the mirror with the birthday card vs her party invitation is also pretty great. It doesn’t tell us a lot about what happens to everyone else, but I guess that’s what Endless Waltz is for.

Okay so, end summary...

Gundam Wing is some good shit. I don’t know if it would hold up without the nostalgia factor and I have no way to tell, but I enjoyed myself. It has a few faults. It’s 22 years old and showing it’s age, it has some overused tropes in it, stuff like that. But the characters are just as interesting as I remember, the plot is better than I gave it credit for, and the music is fuckin’ on point. I genuinely had a great time re-watching it, and am proud to list it as one of the few shows I’ve seen cover to cover. They set up and examine character archetypes, they discuss some very interesting things about what peace means, and what people are worth, and they show us a very interesting, textured world full of very interesting people.

I’m gonna watch Endless Waltz again tomorrow and I’ll probably do a write up for that too.

10/10, do not regret my life as a fan

[rimrat1952]

From "Blood on Black" by Gary Meece

"I know I'm Going to Influence the world -- People will remember me"

After three trips to mental hospitals, Damien Echols again was wandering Crittenden County.  He turned 18 in December 1992, still relying on his much-loathed adopted father for food and lodging.

Echols was referred back to counseling on Jan. 5, 1993.  

His medication remained imipramine, the Tofranil brand.

While imipramine effectively treats depression and is sometimes prescribed for panic attacks or anxiety, the medication can cause or worsen emotional problems, such as mood, anxiety, panic attacks, insomnia, impulse control, irritability, hostility, aggression, restlessness, hyperactivity, depression and self-abuse or suicidal ideation.

The intake sheet for Jan. 5 prepared by social worker Sherry Dockins contained extensive notes, noting hospitalizations and that he was on probation.

Dockins wrote: “‘Damien reports his problems began at age 8 when his parents divorced and Pam remarried. ‘They were constantly fighting — tried to ignore it but finally started fighting back.’ …. 3 months ago mother divorced him and remarried father. Sister, mother and father currently live in Portland, Oregon. He has little contact with family. Currently lives with stepfather Jack Echols. ‘It’s the only way I could live here in Ark.’ They do not get along but rarely see each other. Damien is planning to move in with girlfriend and her mother when they get an apartment. Reports he and Domini (gf) have been together for long time?”

Six months before, Damien was threatening to kill himself if he could not be with Deanna; now he and Domini were a longtime item.  

The report continued: “Damien wants to live in West Memphis because of his friends and ‘it’s where I belong.’”  

Despite his subsequent disparagement of West Memphis, Damien regarded the town as home; he was willing to risk constant scrutiny to live there.  

A further irony was his association with Jack Echols, listed as his parent/guardian on the intake papers, who was allowing Damien to live in his home.

Concerning Damien’s state of mind: “Describes self as feeling ‘neutral/nothing’ most of the time. Denies current suicidal/homicidal ideation.”  

Dockins wrote: “Reports history of self mutilation — cutting self with knives/razors. Last time was 3 months ago.  Denies symptoms of depression. ‘I usually don’t smile.’ He quit school in ninth grade (this year) because he was not allowed to return to his previous school (Marion High School). Reports sleeping most of the day and then goes to Domini’s house.”

Damien was holding down a part-time job with a roofing company. “Relates that he tends to ‘trance out’  when by himself. He has done this since the 5th grade.”

Dockins wrote: “Reports history of alcohol/drug usage — coke, acid, pot, alcohol. Denies current usage …. Reports being harassed by local authorities as ‘they think I’m a Satanic leader.’ He admits being caught with Satanic items and with handwritten books about witchcraft. Denies cult involvement. Is interested in witchcraft for past 8 years. He has tried to steal energy from someone else and influence other minds with witchcraft. States he was able to do these things.”

Echols believed he could “steal energy” from other people; he later testified that children contained more energy for magickal purposes than adults.

Dockins also reported: “Describes self as ‘pretty much hate the human race.’ Related that he feels people are in two classes — Sheep & Wolves (wolves eat the sheep).

“Dressed in black, wearing silver cross and earring studs. Intense eye contact.”

The “wolf in sheep’s clothing” is an ancient concept, cited in the Bible: “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in the clothing of sheep, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.”  

Psychopaths often describe themselves in wolfish terms. For instance, the sadistic psychopath Eric Harris, one of the two Columbine High killers, described fantasies of ripping apart “weak little freshmen” like a wolf.  Charles Manson referred to his followers as “slaves” or “sheep” and recorded a record album “Way of the Wolf.”  

The theme is also popular in occult circles. The Church of Satan Web site, for example, maintains extensive Web pages devoted to “Lycanthropy: A Handbook of Werewolfism,” describing occult exercises for transforming the practitioner into a man-wolf,  “a person who has regressed, by force of will and desire, to a feral or wolflike state.”  

At turns grandiose and pitiable, Damien’s wildly fluctuating self-regard was on display throughout the records.

Dr. Woods described Echols’ return to East Arkansas Mental Health Center:

“There is an abundance of evidence to show that Mr. Echols’ serious mental illness required long term hospitalization and more aggressive treatment than he received in prior hospitalizations. In January of 1993 Mr. Echols again sought help at East Arkansas Mental Health Center where mental health professionals described Mr. Echols’ elaborate history of delusions, psychosis, and severe problems with mood and memory. His delusions often were grandiose. … His mood oscillated between euphoria and severe depression. … During his worst periods Mr. Echols became psychotic. He felt a ‘spirit [was] living within him’ that was ‘put inside him last year.’ The spirit ‘decided to become part of him’ and was the spirit of a woman who was killed by her husband. ...  Though profoundly mentally ill, Mr. Echols has always responded well to the structure of a therapeutic setting. He has never been a management problem and staff members uniformly describe him as passive, compliant and likable.”

The quiet and likable version of Echols would consistently show up for TV interviews from Death Row.

In January 1993, Damien told EAMHC staff that his problems began at age 9 with Jack Echols. Damien reported self-mutilation and said he had a history of abusing drugs, though he, as usual, denied current usage.

On Jan. 13, Dockins reported: “Damien reports one of his biggest problems that he would like to work on is being able to forgive others. When questioned about this he reports that he is very angry with family members and with other people that have ‘let him down.’ He wants to be normal but feels that he has never been normal. … He discussed issues of power and control. He states that he could make things happen. He believes very much in magic. … Damien’s affect and mood was flat. He did not smile during the session.”

For the  Jan. 19 session: “Damien relates that he is trying to find a way to live on his own. He does not get along with step-father. Reveals a history of abuse as he talked of how he was treated as a child. Denies that this has influenced him stating ‘I just put it all inside.’ Relates that when this happens the only solution is to ‘hurt someone.’ Damien reports being told at the hospital that he could be another ‘Charles Manson or Ted Bundy.’ When questioned on his feelings he states ‘I know I’m going to influence the world — people will remember me.’”

Gloria Shettles' “attorney work product” for Echols’ trial correctly reported that the session produced “very damaging notes.”

After Echols’ Jan. 20 session, Dr. David Erby wrote: “ … three psychiatric hospitalizations. Each has been associated with anger, thoughts of killing other and thoughts of killing himself. He’s not currently suicidal or homicidal. He’s been on Tofranil 15 mg. at bedtime for about a year. He’s found that that’s been somewhat helpful. He’s not experiencing any side effects with it, he’s tried to stop it and had some discontinuation symptoms.” Again, a mental health professional noted that Echols had suicidal or homicidal impulses.  Though his medication was “somewhat helpful,” Echols was trying to discontinue Tofranil.

Shettles noted that yet another session, on Jan. 25, was “very damaging.”  The “Individual Progress Notes” by Dockins stated: “Focus of today’s session is spent talking with Damien about his feelings of death. He brought with him to session a poem that he had written during the past week. The theme of this poem centered around death and power. Damien explained that he obtains his power by drinking the blood of others. He typically drinks the blood of a sexual partner or of a ruling partner.  This is achieved by biting or cutting. He states ‘it makes me feel like a God.’ Damien describes drinking blood as giving him more power and strength.  He remembers doing this as far back as age 10. He does not remember where he learned to do this.

“Damien believes that there is no God. He feels that society believes there is a God because society is weak. He wants very much to be all powerful.  He wants very much to be in total control.  We discussed how some of this is related to his experiences as a child. He acknowledges that some of this is related to his childhood abuse trauma but he feels that it is who he is now.

“Damien related that a spirit is now living with him. The spirit was put inside him last year.  He indicates that a month ago the spirit decided to become part of him and he to become part of the spirit. This is reportedly a spirit of a woman who was killed by her husband. When questioned how he feels with this spirit or what the difference is, Damien is able to relate that he feels stronger and more powerful with this spirit. He has not seen this spirit but does hear the spirit. In addition, he also reports conversations with demons and other spirits. This is achieved through rituals. He denies that he is satanic, seeing himself more as being involved in demonology.

“It becomes more noticeable today in talking with Damien that he has many things from childhood that he simply does not remember. This is believed to be a dissociative response to trauma issues. Damien is agreeable to beginning to talk about what he experienced as a child that he remembers. He is also agreed to continue to discuss his issues with power and control as related to his practice of rituals. …

“… Damien’s affect and mood today continued to be bland though there was more emotion when talking about drinking blood.”

Echols livened up therapy with discussions about gaining power through drinking blood via cuts and biting.  

They also could have livened up sessions by having  Echols explain the difference between Satanism and invoking demons through ritual. In theory, a powerful magician would be able to control demons or other disembodied entities through proper ritual and use of the will and use them for his own purposes.  Those purposes wouldn’t inherently be evil in intent, and many dabblers in bygone eras regarded themselves as Christian and by no means Satanists.  Orthodox Christianity, however, has regarded trafficking with demons as evil.  

Echols was almost certainly manipulating the mental health staff to qualify for Social Security Disability but his  delusions, such as being inhabited by the spirit of a murdered woman, were consistent with statements made when disability wasn’t at issue.

Among other noted killers who claimed to have been possessed by some sort of spirit was Ted Bundy, who claimed a “malignant entity” had taken over his consciousness. Other serial killers, such as John Wayne Gacy and “Hillside Strangler” Kenneth Bianci, blamed murderous alter egos for their crimes.

On Feb. 5, Dockins reported that Echols “dressed completely in black and is noted to have cut on his R arm and hand.

“… Damien relates that he cut his arm & hand as a way of permanently marking his skin. The name Domini is cut into his arm. Session continues focused on Damien’s self concept and image. Relates feeling very angry yesterday when running into previous girlfriend. ‘I controlled it — I can do anything.’

“… Affect and mood —- flat.”  

Despite his supposed devotion to Domini, Echols still felt the effect of his breakup with Deanna deeply.

On Feb. 11, Echols reported that he was being harassed by local authorities — “They think I’m a satanic leader.”  He admitted to having Satanic items but denied  involvement in Satanism.  He said he had been interested in witchcraft for eight years. His diagnosis was changed to depressive disorder.  He was prescribed Tofranil in a 150 mg dose.

Dr. Woods described Echols’  continued mental health problems and dealings with the Social Security Administration:

“Though he was only 18 years old, mental health professionals at East Arkansas Regional Mental Health Center concurred that Mr. Echols’ severe and enduring mental illness made him unable to function without substantial assistance from mental health and other agencies. Staff members assisted Mr. Echols in applying for Social Security Disability Benefits through the Social Security Administration (SSA). After conducting an independent evaluation, the SSA determined that Mr. Echols was 100% disabled and was awarded full disability benefits on the basis of his mental illness. The finding by the Social Security Administration of a mental disability is a significant factor that any competent mental health professional would consider in an objective determination of Mr. Echols’ mental state. At the time of arrest and trial, Mr. Echols was still considered severely mentally impaired by the SSA and was receiving full SSA disability benefits.”

Echols applied for disability in early February 1993.

In his application, he claimed he was too mentally ill to work, describing his symptoms as “Mentally Disturbed.” On another form, he wrote: “I am a sociopath.”

Asked “What is your disabling condition?” Echols answered: “I am going through treatment at the Mental Health Center and have been in several mental hospitals.”  He explained how his condition kept him from working: “Because when I try to take a time out my employers don’t like it. Violent, medicine makes me sleepy, vomit & headaches.”

Asked for the reasons for his hospitalizations, on the two stays at Charter, he wrote: “Homicidal, suicidal, manic depression, schizophrenia, sociopathic”; for the hospital in Portland: “Homicidal, suicidal, manic depression, schizophrenia, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, sociopathic.”

Echols was deemed totally disabled and began receiving full Social Security Disability payments.

The rest of the Hutchisons moved back to West Memphis around March. Joe and Pam had remarried in February. Joe, 37, had been married at least four times. Pamela, 35, had been married three times.

Echols began sleeping most nights at the Teer trailer, while occasionally staying at his parents’ trailer at Broadway Trailer Park.  The Hutchisons didn’t have a bedroom for him, so he had to “share” a room with his sister. Someone often slept on the sofa.

For his last appointment, on May 5, 1993, he did not talk to Dockins but to Dr. Erby. His imipramine prescription was refilled.  The handwritten Physician’s Progress Report was difficult to read, having been the only photocopy in 509 pages misaligned on the copier.

Fragments are visible:

“… at time he is impulsive … things that may be harmful to … He has impulses to do strange … armful things to himself. He … es suicidal thoughts. He says … kes to read, swim, playing pool, … likes to work with animals, snakes, .. zards & spiders. He is bothered if .. nakes are killed even if they are poison. .. e has not seriously considered a vocation. … he mother seems dedicated, but insecure. He seems to enjoy people being concerned about him.”

Later that day, he oversaw the gruesome murders of Michael Moore, Christopher Byers and Stevie Branch.

https://www.facebook.com/WestMemphis3Killers/

http://www.eastofwestmemphis.com

https://www.amazon.com/Case-Against-West-Memphis-Killers-ebook/dp/B07C7C4DCH/ref=sr_1_fkmrnull_1?keywords=gary+meece&qid=1553389038&s=gateway&sr=8-1-fkmrnull

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https://www.amazon.com/Blood-Black-Against-Memphis-Killers-ebook/dp/B06XVT2976/ref=sr_1_fkmrnull_3?keywords=gary+meece&qid=1553389069&s=gateway&sr=8-3-fkmrnull

https://www.amazon.com/Where-Monsters-Go-Against-Memphis-ebook/dp/B06XVNXCJV/ref=sr_1_fkmrnull_4?keywords=gary+meece&qid=1553389069&s=gateway&sr=8-4-fkmrnull

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[yesterdanereviews]

Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989)

Film review #333

SYNOPSIS: The crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise are enjoying some shore leave while the ship is being repaired, when Starfleet recalls them for an emergency situation: the “planet of galactic peace” has been taken over by a terrorist group and taken the ambassadors of the Federation, Klingons and Romulans hostage. When Captain Kirk and his crew arrive at the planet, they find things are not as they seem, and Spock runs into a familiar face that makes things much more complicated...

THOUGHTS/ANALYSIS: Star Trek V: The Final Frontier is a 1989 film and a continuation of the Star Trek film series. The film starts off in Yosemite national Park, with Captain Kirk attempting to climb El Capitan. He is out camping with Spock and Dr. McCoy while the Enterprise is undergoing maintenance. The film starts off slowly, and focuses on some interactions and dialogue between the cast, which is one of the strengths of the show. The trouble here is that there’s nothing especially new here, and they’re all just re-hashing their usual viewpoints. It’s always nice to see Kirk, Spock and McCoy conflict with each other with their own brutal honesty in the way that only good friends can do. If you’re not a Star Trek veteran though, you won’t really get much of a sense about what it is all supposed to be about though.

This film is infamous for being plagued with production issues: changes in production staff meant a lot of re-writes to the script, and apparent studio interference wanted the film to be more comedic like it’s successful predecessor The Voyage Home, while Shatner wanted a much more deep and complex story. This conflict of what the film is supposed to be about definitely shows in the final product, as there are a number of story elements that don’t really fit in, and the tone of the film oscillates wildly between humourous and serious. Some scenes are just a constant streak of unfunny jokes which constantly fail to hit home. It often feels like the film is playing it safe with these tame jokes and buffoonery, and they often feel like a complete waste of time. Plot elements such as the Uhura and Scotty romance, and Uhura’s distracting dance are just so far removed from what we would expect it’s best to just block them from memory completely and pretend they never happened, as they stick out really badly.

The more serious story arc doesn’t hold together much better. The opening sequence of introducing a Vulcan that is embracing emotion could have been delivered much better. That this Vulcan turns out be Spock’s half brother Sybok is a big issue for me. It is never mentioned that Spock had any brothers, and it just seems like something he would have mentioned to Kirk or the other crew. I think it would have worked better if he was a childhood friend of Spock’s and it could be left at that, but for him to be his brother raises a lot of questions that are not explored. Sybok stages a kidnapping in order to get the Enterprise to come to the rescue, in order for him to steal it and take it to the centre of the galaxy to find God. It’s quite an epic objective, but there’s not much build up to it, as Sybok’s plan is revealed very late on. As Sybok effectively brainwashes the crew by taking away their pain, Kirk and the crew end up being rather passive in the whole series of events, and don’t really do much. Again there are some decent dialogues between Kirk, Spock and McCoy, but they are often swept aside by other story elements. Oh, and there is a Klingon ship that tries to stop Kirk which is a completely worthless plot element that provides a diversion about a minute or two at the end. Again, there are a lot of competing story elements that just don’t fit together. The one scene that isn’t ruined by lame jokes or muddled plot elements is the scene with McCoy facing the memory of his Father’s death, which is well delivered and offers a chance for Kirk to do what he does best with a rousing speech.

The finale of the film involves encountering God, who turns out isn’t God at all, but is an ancient entity who was imprisoned at the centre of the galaxy long ago. Apparently there was a much more grand finale planned with hordes of rock monsters for Kirk and co. to fight, but due to budget constraints, all we get is some dull dialogue and a bit of lightning: a bit of an anti-climax considering the build up to the meeting with ‘God’. The film does some work in tying up some of the plot elements together, but it honestly just feels like a wasted effort at this point. The special effects look no different than those used in Star Trek II, and you would think there would be something new and exciting to create in those seven years, but you would be wrong. This is the second time I have watched this film, and upon this viewing, I still rate it as the worst Star Trek film, primarily due to just how inconsistent the tone and pacing is, and how it introduces so many unnecessary plot elements that just don’t fit into the established Star Trek universe. There are some good story elements in here that could be explored more fully, but altogether it’s all just a big old mess, which is a real shame. Kirk, Spock and McCoy get a chance to engage in their usual debates, and their friendship forms a basis of a lot of the story, which is always welcome to see, but with regards to the story itself, it just feels like they are passengers just along for the ride...a wildly inconsistent ride.