#matpat has killed media literacy

[agenderduck]

It deeply upsets me that there aren’t a lot of analysis posts off of Lesley, at least ones that don’t completely mischaracterize her. Often times Lesley is watered down to just being “Yellow’s Mom” by the fandom and nothing else. Lesley is tragic. She is not motherly, she’s a prisoner. A prisoner in a prison partially of her own design, but a prisoner nonetheless. matpat, and the david theory in general has rotted people’s brains. It’s fine to have an interpretation of a character, I could care less, but it’s an entirely different thing all together to completely miss the point of a character. Watching the line “you’re one of my favorites….” be brushed aside for what is otherwise a completely unserious line is infuriating. There’s no actual proof that Lesley is Yellow’s mother outside of theories. When she says “you’re not my real son” it’s more so in the way that she creator, and he is her creation, not that Lesley is actually an author, she just thinks she is. The trio represent parts of her, almost everything they do is by her hands. They’re miserable because Lesley is miserable. She believes herself to be an author, a creator, but she doesn’t hold any real power, just a small amount. Yellow didn’t scale the staircase on his own, everything was meticulously laid out by Lesley. Because, the truth is, he represents a part of Lesley that she has long since forgotten, the part of her that genuinely wants to change, to progress instead of regress. By giving yellow his batteries and bringing him up stairs, she is checking that she is still alive. That there is still that small part of her that can change.

But, as previously stated, she doesn’t have any real power, and she has no interest in truly changing. She has strings of her own, she can’t change even if she wanted to. Lesley has a tendency of setting up scenarios where the puppets are given a false sense of control. She does it with red in transport, and she does it again in electricity with yellow. In her mind she’s teaching them, teaching them that things cannot stray outside of what she has laid out for them. It’s her own twisted way of helping. Yellow, unlike red, possesses a genuine ability to question things and a natural curiosity. Lesley knows this. That’s precisely why his batteries are denied from him, unless Lesley hands them to him on a silver platter when convenient. Yellow has to pay the price of being constantly disoriented, to be in a constant state of confusion because if he isn’t then that would entail Lesley addressing what is pulling on her strings. The batteries are a threat to this cycle, hence why Lesley gifts him a book of false knowledge. A book of nothing. A red herring. She knows where that book is going, straight into the shredder as it always does. Where it should be. Because ever so slightly out of shot at the end of her room sits a door that creaks open every once in a while and she dare not question it. A door that she ignores as she continues on playing her piano as she always does. As it should be. No questions to be had. Just the keys of a piano echoing emptily in a dilapidated dollhouse, and the ghost of an artist who lost herself eons ago.