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viragodude · 2 years ago

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Viragoism: A proposition by Caracal

As anti-transmasculinity picks up and non transmascs increase their lack of support/understanding of it and us, i believe it is best to propose an alternative: Viragoism.

What is Viragoism?

Viragoism is a more radical strand of men’s liberation feminism that emphasises on the liberation and self sufficiency of transmasculine people and transmasculine communities, taking inspiration from queer anarchism and marxist feminism. The term originates from the archaic “Virago”, which can me defined as the following: “a woman of masculine strength or spirit; a female warrior.” I use virago in the context of gender transgressions against the patriarchal notion of masculinity; in which many transmasculine people, butches, and masculine-aligned nonbinary people often possess. In this spirit, the virago MAN is the biggest threat to patriarchy.

Why Viragoism?

Viragoism exists as an alternative to transmasculine people who feel increasingly alienated within trans spaces and cannot gather solidarity with non transmascs. Solidarity with other transmasculine people, materially, is the only option we can have left. Viragoism differs in Men Rights Activism in the sense that MRAs are dominantly cis male-oriented, and such are more resistant to the transmasculine plight; either tokenising us or not being able to propose ways to fix our oppression, with them being patriarchal plants and whatnot. Viragoism is the third way of most “intersectional” transfeminism and Men Right Activism. This is not to say that Viragoism can’t be mixed with transfeminism; as it can theoretically be compatible with the tenets of transfeminism.

How does Patriarchy and Capitalism affect transmasculine people?

Patriarchy, and subsequently capitalism, shackle us to where we are. Patriarchy guards masculinity viciously from transmasculine people, and will go lengths to do so; whether it be medical gatekeeping, legislations in which affect our ability to transition socially/medically as well as our ability to recieve reproductive care, and more nefarious methods such as infantilisation, erasure, corrective rape, institutionalising, and even murder. Working class transmascs, especially that of black transmascs, are unable to recieve medical transition let alone DIY hormonal treatment due to their status in capitalist society and, unfortunately, the legal barring of testostrone; as it is considered a schedule I substance in the US. The recent repealing of abortion rights in the US greatly poses a risk to all transmasculine people, as our chances of sexual assault and pregnancy as result have skyrocketed. The frustrating thing is that we are erased from the topic by cis feminist and some transfeminist movement; egregiously viewed as mere “collateral damage” in many conversations. Patriarchy and its footsoldiers (e.i. TERFism and Gender Critical ideology) quite literally seeks to rape us into detransition until we submit to its vision of us to live in coerced femininity, or we ultimately commit suicide.

Anti-transmasculinity and its manifestations in our system and non-transmascs

Anti-transmasculinity, or transmisandry, or transandrophobia, is the specific oppression in which transmasculine people are put through in Patriarchal society. It has many manifestations, especially through how we are socialised with. The ways it manifests are:

Infantilisation. You’re likely familiar with it through TERFs/GCs and their “save the little girls” and “save our lesbians” movements. This implies that transmasculine people have to be protected from their own decisions, and that we cannot think for ourselves. Ironically, non-transmasculine trans people also do this through the incistence of not allowing us to theorise our own oppression; intentionally or not.

Fetishisation. Transmasculine people are fetishised in very specific ways, either being expected to be sexually submissive (gay transmascs are especially plagued with this sentiment by cis chasers), or are fetishised via our body parts by (often times) cis lesbians who cannot fathom the idea of us losing our breasts. Fetishisation and Infantilisation are often intertwined. Unfortunately, non-transmasc trans people are guilty of this as well; e.i. the concept of the “soft boi” branding that plagues many trans spaces.

Corrective Sexual Assault, and sexual assault in general. This manifests in the idea that transmasculine people need to be raped into detransition in order to be a “proper woman”. Sexual assault can also be used to humiliate us for our gender transgressions against the Patriarchy, and to further its alienation of us as “false men”.

Institutionalisation. Though mostly in the past, this is still a wound that is fresh with many transmasculine people today. Transmasculine people were often sent off to mental institutions due to the Patriarchy’s fear of our transgressions against its relentless gendering. Our identity was/is viewed as a mental illness, one that must be cured with conversion therapy and coercion into femininity. Many GC “mothers” today often punish their closeted sons with this when they react against their oppression.

Specific Medical Gatekeeping and Mistreatment. Transmasculine people are often gatekept and abused by our own medical system. This can manifest in intentional misgendering, the classic “you’ll regret it” chats, medical fatphobia for fat transmasculine people, and the many loopholes it takes to even recieve testostrone via many insurance companies. Transmasculine people are also barred from reproductive care, as many are forced to use their ASAB (assigned sex at birth) to even get proper care. Worst of all, transmascs are even denied this treatment if their gender marker has changed or if they even are deep into their transition.

Ostracisation from communities they previously were apart of. If you’re familiar with lesbian discourse, this may serve as a proper example. Many transmasculine lesbians (who might have been in sapphic spaces prior to transitioning and still identify as such) may end up being removed from such communities for even identifying as transmasc, and for daring to transition while identifying as a lesbian on the basis of the whole “well lesbians can’t be men” argument. Other communities may even ostracise us BECAUSE of our approximity to masculinity.

Anti-masculinity and comparison to cis oppressors. If we aren’t being infantilised, then we are abused for our relationship with masculinity. In some queer spaces, we might be seen in the same vein as our cis male oppressors, and this is especially prevalent in how non transmascs interact with us; often branding us with the deragatory “angry man” stereotype when we even remotely try to explain our experiences in the gender discussion and express frustration. We are viewed in the lense of “Shrodinger’s Man”, either being soft bois in need of protection or an oppressor that must be silenced. In a similar vein, we are often placed as guardians in service of other queer/trans people except ourselves, expected to lay our lives to protect all but us.

Murder. In extreme cases, our transgression is so great that it is an affront to our life. Transphobes could potentially kill us because we are transmasculine, and i cannot help but pinpoint a couple of wellknown cases; that being Brandon Teena and Malte C, two transmascs that have been killed on the basis of their gender. Malte C was killed putting himself between an angry homophobe/transphobe and a lesbian couple, his killer uttering “you will never be a man” before striking and killing him. This martyrdom, though for a good cause, is often echoed as the expectation of many transmasculine people, as stated before.

Non-transmascs are complacent in anti-transmasculinity whether they refuse to believe it or not. Education does nothing, and so naturally it is assumed to keep them at an arms distance. Many can be truely good allies, but most will likely not be on our side. It is for this reason that transmasculine people must rely solely on other transmasculine people, and build solidarity with each other. Unfortunately some transmascs will likely fall into the same traps as non transmascs do, and it is best to either educate them or not engage at all.

Anti-transmasculinity Affected and Anti-Transmasculinity Exempt

There are two categories a Virago can use to sescribe themselves and others; Anti-transmasculinity Affected (ATA), or Anti-Transmasculinity Exempt (ATE).

Anti-Transmasculinity Affected: Trans men, transmasculine nobinary people, intersex people, butches, multigendered people and some AMAB nonbinary people.

Anti-transmasculinity Exempt: Trans women, transfeminine nonbinary people, cis men, cis women, and some AFAB nonbinary people.

ATAs bear the brunt of anti-transmasculinity, while ATEs do not. Intersex people’s experiences often vary, as well as AMAB nonbinary people’s experiences. ATEs generally do not understand how anti-transmasculinity hurts us; often partaking in it themselves.

What is the end goal of the Virago Movement?

Total liberation. Liberation of all transmasculine people from Patriarchy, from capitalism and its hierarchies, assimilation, and from anti-transmasculinity. We can achieve this by resisting these things through transmasculine solidarity, love, and direct action. Support fellow transmascs, and to ATEs: help amplify our voices. Transmasc workers, form unions and aid fellow transmasc workers against capitalism and discrimination.

My ask box is open to those who have questions.

#anti transmasculinity #transmisandry #virago #viragoism #feminism #transfeminism

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docholligay · 5 years ago

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Time and Tide

@amberlilly requested “Michiru realizing she loves Haruka.” This is me INTENSELY on my bullshit, and I hope you enjoy grabbing your closest dictionary, i got to use so many words I rarely get an opportunity to use, I love you Michiru.

It is terribly odd how one’s life can change, and how you believe it to be in a single moment. But that isn’t how things happen, not really. It is only that in one single moment, you realize what has been true for some time. Love is not a strike of lighting, that is only true of fools and children. Love is the tide coming in, so slow and so sure that it hardly seems different from the last moment, and then you are underwater, awakened to the knowledge that the world is not as you last left it. That this harmless thing has come in and covered everything you knew.

There is a fortress in France, where the tide runs in, and separates it from everything, and island unto itself, and this has been my experience of love. Perhaps a better person might be as a dock or some seaside restaurant, the water only filling the space that it was always meant to, and making it lovelier, but for me it has surrounded me fully. Such it is with all things that do not prepare for love to come, I suppose.

Rest assured that any long philippic you might offer about the nature of my heart and all its empty and cavernous spaces is already quite known to me. I reflect on that now, so desperately loving her, knowing I do not deserve her. I look at her in the long, thin blades of moonlight that cross her body and know that I am owed every ounce of pain that my heart is served.

It wasn’t always this way. In the beginning, things were so much simpler. I am a spoilt child, and this has always been true, and I wanted her as one wants a doll or a pony. I am not accustomed to being defied, and I don't care for it. The moon had already given me my twenty lashes, and so it owed me a reward. If I was trapped in this fate, at least there would be a lovely bauble to call mine and mine alone. She was handsome, and she was tall, and she was bound to me whether she wanted to be or no.

That was enough, then. I seduced her as I have plenty of other women, thinking only that she would be a lovely mark on my record, that her low breeding and total lack of polish would annoy my parents and give my friends a good laugh. She was slow to warm to me, of course, so shy and unsure in the ways of romance and seduction, even as she puffed her chest and played the big butch.

Maybe that was the first moment, that first gentle lap of the tide, when she took off her shirt, and she trembled, and I saw how very inexperienced she was. Haruka. I knew I had said her name, before then, but that was the first time I had tasted it on my lips. Sweet as cream, delicate as rosewater. Unburdened of the layers she put on to protect herself form the world, she looked so vulnerable, so thin and bright, a string of spun sugar catching the light. I might have loved her in the first moment then.

She loved me, certainly. Haruka would call it a curse, that she can give her love so easily, that affection touches her so deeply, that kind words write themselves upon the sand of her soul and struggle to stay as the waves of her own self-regard wash over them. She finds herself silly, I know, for her softness. I found her silly as well, I suppose, when she became besotted with me, while trying to hold herself at a distance, a dance for which she had neither the training nor the skill. I saw her immediately for what she was.

I wish I could say this tempered me, that I found some humanity within myself where I did not wish to hurt her. It would be a lie, and I endeavor not, at the least, to lie to myself. I was pleased. Being raised in such penury, she would need me as much as she wanted me, once she became accustomed to all those finer things, I assured myself. I wanted her to be my lapdog, my toy, the clay upon which I could mold a splendid little thing for my own decoration and delight.

I laugh at that girl, now. How foolish she was to believe she could be so near Haruka, and feel the weight of her love, and remain dry, and safe, and in control. You have never known a girl like this one, I would tell her. She is a beauty, and she will transform you, beast that you are, into something that can almost be called human. Something that can feel fear and pain, the very heart of love.

Perhaps the tide of love came in at my ankles when she accompanied me to a gala, when she asked me to dance and waltzed, her frame beautiful, her feet light. When she beamed and told me she had found someone to teach her, and she’d been fixing up their car in exchange, and how she wanted to surprise me. She could learn how to be classy, she whispered into my ear, and she would do her best. Flowers slipped into a tiny bud vase, served alongside an evening glass of wine. Lovingly written billets-doux describing my hair and eyes and hands, artless and plain-spoken. That earnestness. What a cruel thing.

But I was blind even then, to how I would come to love her. I have always thought myself intelligent, and perhaps this is a sign of my greater folly, to think myself so logical against the flood that comes for so many. Perhaps I can blame the moon even for this, for bringing me this vulnerability I for so long saw as peccant.

Even now, it frightens me, to see how I love her. What a perfect little fool I’ve become, to love something that can be taken away.

I am often asked, what made me love her, now that we have been together these few years, and I find myself ever at a ramble. I suppose I have not done much better here. I have outlined so many small things that drew me to her, little laps of water growing higher and higher, and I could outline a dozen more at the least, all in very florid and unnecessarily embellished prose. I am almost a Rococo caricature of myself, at times, and I suppose this is cross anyone who cares to read this will be forced to bear.

But I can tell you when I realized that love. When I realized that life slips like water through one’s fingers, and that I could know fear.

We were in some manner of battle. This, I know, begins so many of my stories, but it is impossible to take into account how many battles I have been in and chide me overmuch on the subject. We were in battle, and it was heated and difficult. Mina was on the ropes herself, and certainly you must know how irregular a moment it was for us all. She wanted to regroup, to rethink. She did not declare us beaten, for I cannot believe that Mina would ever draw breath and consider a battle she had not won finished, but we needed to take a moment and find our footing.

Haruka hated herself nearly as much as she loved me. I am not certain this is the venue to describe all the ways in which she has struggled over the course of her life, trying to find a reason she was born. Perhaps it is enough to tell you that her own mother was unkind on the subject of her birth, and there was little in the way of anyone to dissuade her that it was true, and the improvident moon did not consider that such a girl might be the wrong one to put into danger. Handing her something to die for, to prove her goodness and worth by her willingness to be hurt, was always a foolish gamble.

She did not wait.

Haruka ran toward the enemy, even as Mina yelled her sign, and I was caught quite flat-footed. Haruka did little without my go-along, you must understand, and I was so arrogant as to assume that would always be true. That even in the heat of the moment, her deference to me could overwhelm her desire to play the hero. None of us could catch her. She was determined to have the moment of surprise.

I remember seeing her fall to the floor. I am, despite even my own protestations, not an unfeeling creature, and perhaps any of my comrades at arms, falling in such obvious pain, might have pulled at my heartstring. But I assure you it would not have caused the immediate flash of fear and pain, so like a dagger in my chest, sharp and cold, the very breath stolen from my lungs. For a few brief moments, I could not move. I was chilled by the knowledge of which I now had possession.

I would die for her. Worse than that, I would kill for her, I would let every single soldier beside me, all the world, crumble to ash if it could spare her life. Haruka had found something to die for, but the moon had given me something to destroy for, and if it played the fool with Haruka it had done oh so much worse with me.

I left the girls, then. I drew my dagger as if I were pulling it from my own chest and not the buckler that made up my mirror, and I did not look back. I heard Mina call my planet, too, curse me for my own special brand of cowardice. I cared not. Court-martial me, and put me to my death, but do not ask me to endure the loss of her. I had not known, before that moment, that I was such a fragile thing. That I could so easily be undone, the ice princess in the high tower brought low by the very idea of her plaything being wounded. Knowing that no longer was she the plaything, but the princess, and I her prince, her ardent defender, the Orpheous that would happily walk myself into Hell and Hades to be at her side.

I may have made a miscalculation, but the enemy had, as well. For you see, I am a great and terrible opponent, when I have something to lose. It seems the enemy was as unknowing as myself, and they paid for it in blood. I never even noticed its death, too busy running to Haruka’s side.

All’s well that ends well, I suppose. Mina barked something to me about orders, but she could only say so much when my great foolishness had won the day. It matters little how one wins the battle, so long as you win. Haruka was hurt, and angry that I had saved her, and touched that I had wanted to, and afraid that she could never be worthy of that desire. She said none of these things, of course, but she has no gift of emotional legerdemain, and I could read it all so clearly.

I knew fear. I have never know how to express that fear. To say I am afraid she will die is too simple and easy, for we all hope our nearest ones will live. I am afraid of so much more than than that. I am afraid that she will die, and so will every good thing in me, that the tide of love will recede and all that will be left is the exposed shipwrecks of what I am underneath it all.

And yet, here in the night, writing this for whoever might care to read when I am gone, I will tell you now: I would make this Faustian bargain again in one beat of my heart.

Love has made me a fortress, cut off from the land, but it has given the fortress a thing to protect besides itself. It has given me purpose.

It has made something inside of me alive.

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medea10 · 5 years ago

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My Review of Fushigi Yugi

#fushigi yuugi #fushigi yugi #miaka yuuki #yui hongo #tamahome #hotohori #nuriko #mitsukake #chichiri #chiriko #taisuke #nakago #mayo sakaki

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frighthouseofalighthouse · 5 years ago

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All wlw.

HEY YO THANK YOU FOR THIS.

1: are you single or are you in a relationship? if you’re in a relationship, how long have you been together?

Single right now. My last relationship lasted just over 11 months. I have a tendency to look for my validation in others. I have no idea how to love and validate myself, and I need time to be single and figure out how to see myself as complete all on my own.

2: what’s your idea of a perfect date?

We get coffee and then go to a bookstore. Wander around, pick out things for each other. Then we get pizza for dinner and hang out and talk. If we have time the pizza goes home with us and we watch tv and chat.

3: do you prefer to identify as butch, femme, or neither?

I think I’m more on the femme side, but I can really go either way.

4: do you have a crush on anyone? if so, and if you want to, go ahead and describe your crush :3c

I do have crushes and I’m not going after them for a couple of reasons. A) just because I’m single all of a sudden doesn’t mean I need to fall for someone else. I could never put someone in the position of being my rebound. And B) Like I said in my answer to the first question, I really need to be single for a long while and do introspective healing on a lot of levels.

5: would you consider having a long distance relationship with someone?

I’ve done it twice and while I would do it again if I loved the person enough, I would prefer for my next eventual relationship to be with someone I can see in person more.

6: do you have a “type” you usually fall for? if so, what is it?

Kind, soft-hearted nerds who are also protective and cuddly and like crime and paranormal stuff. Me. I fall for people like me.

7: what is your favorite love trope/cliché to read, view, or write about?

I die for savior tropes. Like when person A is in great danger and person B saves them and patches them up and takes care of them...

Earlier this year I read this amazing Frankenstein retelling set at a Victorian medical school called Cadaver & Queen by Alisa Kwitney, and the main character dived in front of the love interest to take a bullet for him and she almost died and then he had to perform surgery and remove the bullet and then he stayed by her side watching for infection and it was LEGITIMATELY the single hottest thing I have ever read. I’m also currently writing a short story for my Sherlock Holmes series where something like that happens...also something angsty and similar happens in every single book in that series ngl, I’m a slut for medical angst.

8: do you like stuff like cottage core or farm core or do you prefer fantasies involving busy city life?

I’m more of a cottage core girl myself. Not really farm core but like...forage core? Is that a thing? Like I don’t want to grow the fruit I just want to go out wandering and pick the fruit in my basket.

9: red or pink?

Both. But not together.

10: do you like soft pastel aesthetics or darker, punker aesthetics?

I like both but I think I lean towards darker.

11: are you the type of wlw with a great fashion sense, or are you more of a fashion disaster? or are you somewhere in the middle?

I POSSESS great fashion sense, I just can’t...afford it, so realistically I’m more in the middle.

12: favorite emoji(s) to use when talking about girls?

☺️😌😉😍🥰😘🤗🙌👩‍❤️‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩✨💫🍑🌻🌸🌹❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤💕💞💓💗💖💘💝🏳️‍🌈

13: when did you realize you were wlw?

I really realized it at 13, but apparently I was a very self aware toddler because one of my aunts told me when I was 3 I told her I was going to marry a girl.

14: have you come out, or are you still closeted? (either is 110% valid)

I’m 100% out and proud and never going to hide it again! Although when I was younger it may not have been as safe for me as it is now, so I’m glad I waited until I was 17.

15: have you been to pride? if so, how many times?

I actually just went to my first pride at the end of August! It was awesome!!!

16: have you ever gotten a crush on one of your friends?

Alllll of my crushes have been on friends. (How would you even have a crush on someone you aren’t even acquaintances with like how would that work???)

17: do you have a pride flag? do you wear things like pride pins, shirts, and/or jewlery in public?

At pride this year I got a lesbian flag that I have hung in my window as a curtain, and it’s great because during the day it makes everything glow pink. Also I wear pride merch in public so much and I love it!

18: kissing or holding hands? snuggling or playing with your s/o’s hair (or having them play with your hair)?

Holding hands and having them play with my hair (though I do love kissing) 🥰

19: since it’s october: what is your favorite “monster”? (ex. vampires, werewolves, ghosts)

Ghosts and vampires. I’m also partial to Medusa if you wanna be specific. I wrote a whole ass eloquent poem about her inspired by #metoo in order to kick off my mythology series!

20: tell me some things you love about girls 💞💞

EYES HAIR CHEEKBONES LIPS VOICES SINGING NECKS COLLARBONES BOOBS ARMS WRISTS HANDS HIPS LEGS THE WAY WE PROTECT EACH OTHER THE WAY WE GO AFTER OUR FRIENDS EX BOYFRIENDS CUZ THEY AINT SHIT THE WAY WE SHOW OFF POCKETS IN OUR CLOTHES AND TELL EACH OTHER WHERE WE GOT OUR CUTE CLOTHES IN CASE WE WANNA GET MATCHING ONES AND THEN ~MATCH~

I JUST FUCKING LOVE GIRLS

#a series of essays anonymously published #wlw

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erizee · 7 years ago

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Frozen Fire

Happy Halloween to @kvaasiir !! (hey i managed to post today! :D)

I hope it’s okay that I only wrote nygmobblepot and hallucination ed and not one of your other ships/prompts.

@gothambuddyexchange

ao3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12577860

(the story is under the cut)

A commotion outside of Oswald's office ruined the more or less peaceful negotiation he'd had. Fortunately they hadn't breached a sensitive topic yet, just some minor details about the licenses, but Oswald was annoyed nonetheless. What good was being the king of Gotham's underworld once again when his security couldn't even handle keeping the unnecessary noise out?? It wasn't like it was always perfectly silent in his office, with it being inside a club and all, but this was just excessive.

Annoyed, Oswald excused himself from the room. As soon as he reached the main room of the Iceberg Lounge, the source of the noise was apparent. There was gas all across the room. A green-ish brown gas that was spreading quickly towards the place Oswald stood.

Panicked, Oswald ran for the exit, but before he could even come close to reaching the door, a hand on his shoulder stopped him from moving any further.

"Oh no, Mister Penguin, you won't leave this easily. I made a special batch just for you." Oswald spun around to see who was talking, but the only thing he could see was the gas that was being sprayed into his face.

Oswald raised his hands in a futile attempt to protect himself, but the gas already clouded his vision and he could smell its sweet odor.

Suddenly everything went quiet. Oswald slowly dropped his arms and looked around, cautiously grabbing the gun hidden in his pocket. The room, that had been filled with screams and panic just seconds ago was quiet, the air deathly still. Instead of a hundred people with varying levels of intoxication dancing or talking, the room was empty. The exit, the entrance to his office and even the bar with his most priced possession was gone. The walls were wooden and encased a much smaller room than they should.

Oswald wasn't at the Iceberg Lounge anymore. But where was he?

Cautious not to make any sound that might aggravate his attacker, Oswald took a few uncertain steps further into the room. A fireplace bathed the walls in soft, warm light. There was an old, but not ancient wooden table full of luxurious food in the middle of the room. Oswald knew where he was. Despite the imminent danger and the fear of being attacked, Oswald couldn't help but feel at home. How could he not, he had lived in the mansion for months after all.

"Hello, Oswald." Oswald spun around, instantly recognising the familiar voice. How could he not remember his one love's and worst enemy's voice? Just as he expected he was met with the familiarly wide smile of Edward Nygma. What had once let his heart flutter pleasantly and what had once been a source of trust and friendship now only let him feel terror and betrayal accompanied by an agonising unease.

Oswald raised his gun and aimed it at his enemy's chest. Ed didn't react. He just kept smiling. The view was disconcerting but at the same time oddly reassuring. Like he could tell this man all his secrets, open his heart to him and not have it ripped apart, but met with the same love and trust he couldn't help but feel. Ed's smile was so warm, so full of kindness. Oswald had almost forgotten what it looked like.

"I cooked dinner for us. I know you don't want me to, but I thought for this special occasion it would be nice." Ed gestured towards the table and pulled one of the two chairs back for Oswald to sit on. Oswald was still wary, but something about Ed's smile, his words, the athmosphere in the room and the orange light from the fireplace loosened the tension in Oswald's body and mind. He let himself be guided to the chair and sat down, one hand still tightly gripping his gun.

Ed sat down across from him. Despite the length of the table, somehow Ed sat close enough to reach out for Oswald's hand, the one that wasn't holding the gun, and gently take it. There was something metallic on Ed's hand but Oswald couldn't look down, or away from Ed's smile. He hadn't looked at him like that since that night at the sirens, when Butch had almost killed him. "Oswald, I know we had our.. differences in the past, but I want you to know that the past two years, especially this last one" -Ed chuckled and Oswald felt his insides burn at the sound- "have been the best of my life. Living with you, spending my life with you.. there's nothing that could ever make me happier."

Oswald's breath hitched and his heart started fluttering violently. Ed couldn't possibly mean- "I love you, Oswald, more than anyone else in my life. When you proposed to me that day, you made me the happiest man in all of Gotham. I'm so glad we managed to settle our senseless fight." Oswald's heart ached with want. What wouldn't he do to have this? Ed's love, having a life with him? He would do anything to be with Ed again, even just as friends. He was ready to give up his empire, his dignity, even his life.

But he couldn't. Ed hated him, had been ever since he had made the mistake of killing someone Ed had deemed worth living. It was no use to want something he could never have.

During the last months, he had successfully suppressed all the guilt and regret he felt and burried it underneath his gloat over his success and his hate for what Ed did. But now, seeing what he could have had if only he hadn't killed that woman, or even if he had attempted in any way to repair what he had broken.. it was a new kind of torture, one that ripped Oswald apart from the inside.

Oswald opened his mouth, to say... what he wanted to say he wasn't sure. I love you, I'm sorry, forgive me, we can't, I hate you for what you did, I love you.

Before Oswald could even finish forming the words, the scene shifted dramatically. The flames in the fireplace flared up, all domestic feeling to them lost to violence and anger. The food on the table was rotting rapidly, a white pelt slowly covering the meat. The hand on Oswald's own became cold, ice cold, too cold to touch, but Oswald couldn't move away. His whole body was frozen in place, albeit in a very different way than Ed was.

Tiny blue spots started appearing on Ed's face and hands. Ice crystals were building on his skin, snowflakes covering his lashes. Tiny tremors moved through his hands, like his body was trying to warm itself up, but he didn't move away.

All Ed did was smile warmly, in stark contrast to the ice slowly engulfing his body. "I love you so much Oswald. I would do anything for you, and I know you would do the same." Oswald wanted to scream, to tell Ed he was wrong, that Oswald had done every possible thing he could wrong, but he couldn't move, not even blink. Even as tiny cracks in the ice of Ed's skin started to appear, he could do nothing but stare in horror. "We could have had everything. We could have been happy. Now all that's left is just the cold." A disembodied voice was taunting Oswald and he couldn't do anything about it. With a start he realised it was his own.

The cracks became bigger. Ed's voice, still repeating his confessions of love and devotion, became hoarse and faded out. After an eternity of slow torture, the last warmth and light in Ed was wiped out. His eyes now glinted like beautiful pieces of painted glass. Beautiful, made to sustain as long as Oswald desired, but without any life or warmth behind them.

Finally the scream that had been building up at the back of Oswald's throat ever since Ed had first started to freeze was set free. A blood curdling scream ripped through the freezing cold air and echoed against the empty walls of the mansion. Panicked, Oswald stood up and tried to run, but Ed's once gentle grip on his arm was now vice-like. Grinding his teeth, Oswald pulled as hard as he could, hoping he could pry the fingers holding him loose. He stumbled backwards and fell with the shock of his success. One look at his arm immediately ruined the tiny shred of satisfaction and relief in him. Ed's hand was still on his arm. The bone and skin was shattered like glass, Ed's veins too frozen to let loose any blood.

Oswald screamed again but it soon turned into an agonised sob. You keep hurting him, no matter what you do. The voice was right. He had snapped at Ed when he had barely known him, he had only brought him pain and danger when Ed had saved him and his "lessons" had only led to his imprisonment at Arkham. He had freed him from that horrible place simply for his own gain and when Ed had finally found happiness he had ripped it from him. And now he didn't even allow him his rightful revenge. What kind of man was he that he even imagined Ed would ever forgive him, not to mention love him?

Tears were falling from Oswald's eyelids. They ruined his carefully applied makeup and turned into ice as soon as they touched his cheek, their ice-cold surface burning through his skin, but Oswald didn't care. He was in the wrong. Not Ed. How had he ever thought his own feelings even mattered? How had he ever thought he himself ever mattered? All he did was cause pain and destruction to those he loved, first his mother, then his father and now even Ed. He didn't deserve all the success the Lounge had brought him. He didn't even deserve his own life. Without his parents, without Ed, he would be long dead. And how had he repaid them?

Violent sobs shook Oswald's body as he cradled the broken and frozen hand to his chest.

He was so invested in his grief and terror, he didn't even notice the scene had shifted again. The screams in the Lounge had died down. Whoever was still in the room now was either dead or unconscious.

The attacker frowned underneath his mask. A curious smile was tugging at his lip. "Interesting... Your biggest fear, Mr. Penguin, isn't losing your success or your empire... I was so sure that would be it." He mumbled to himself. Penguin was too terrified to hear him anyway. "Terrified of their own actions.. you're not the first one I met with that fear, but I never expected it from you of all people. Why are you, a man that has everything, more scared of losing what you already lost than of losing what you have now?"

The Scarecrow walked away, mumbling to himself. He would have to do a little more research before testing his formula again. He smiled underneath his mask as he took in all the unconscious and dead bodies across the room. What a spectacle. No one would ever doubt true fear still existed anymore, now that he had shown so many people what it truly meant to be scared.

For some reason, Penguin's reaction to the gas stayed with him. What would he do now? Would he change his ways? The Scarecrow doubted it, but he was dying to see it.

#gothambuddyexchange #mine #i hope it doesn't suck^^'

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24framespersecondfilm · 7 years ago

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Star Wars: The Space Western.

(Warning: The following post contains spoilers for the films: Star Wars: Episode IV: A New Hope, The Searchers, High Plains Drifter, Charro, Magnificent Seven, The Good, The Bad And The Ugly, For A Few Dollars More and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.)

Two of my most favourite genres of film are Science Fiction and Western. The other day, I was trying to think of a film which combined both elements of, for me, two of the great genres of cinema ever made. I thought of Back To The Future Part III from 1990, Serenity from 2005, Cowboys and Aliens from 2011, when it hit me. Star Wars. My most favourite film of all time is a film that encapsulates the components of both the Western and Science Fiction.

I wouldn’t call Star Wars a straight Western, nor will I call it a straight Science Fiction film, for me, Star Wars is a mixture of both genres. To be specific, I wish to focus primarily on Episode VI: A New Hope. (Although, when A New Hope was released in 1977, it wasn’t called A New Hope, rather it was known simply as Star Wars and the subtitle of A New Hope wasn’t added until 1981 after the release of Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, but, I digress.)

I, of course, am aware that the Western wasn’t the only inspiration for George Lucas when he was creating Star Wars. I mean, there are Akira Kurosawa samurai films like Seven Samurai and Rashomon, and also Frederick Stephani’s Flash Gordon Serials from 1936. But, it’s the Western genre influences that I want to talk about in this post.

A New Hope takes place in three locations within the ever expanding Star Wars Universe, and they are Luke Skywalker’s home planet of Tatooine, aboard the moon sized battle station, the Death Star and finally on and above the planet Yavin IV. Out of these three locations, it is Tatoonie that is most Western- esque. Tatooine is a desert planet that is very akin to the Old West when, perhaps, it was on it’s way out, around the 1900’s. It’s dusty, somewhat rundown, and the people are poor. The scenes that take place on Tatoonie, are the ones that I will be focusing on for this post. I could go on to include scenes from the Death Star and Yavin IV. However, I feel that would create a dissertation sized post, which nobody but me would be interested to read, so I’ve split up the scenes and I shall focus of those scenes in future posts.

Tatoonie is the planet that two droids, R2D2, played by Kenny Baker, and C-3PO, played Anthony Daniels, escape from the Galactic Empire, who took over their ship. Moments after splitting up after an argument, the two droids are captured, independently of each other, by Jawas. Jawas are small human-like aliens that are Star Wars's representative of the travelling merchants. These travelling merchants within the Old West would often sell things like Snake Oil remedies and guns. However, here, the Jawas sell Droids. This is how R2D2 and C-3PO and the audience themselves are introduced to the first resident people of Tatoonie. These people are Luke Skywalker, played by Mark Hamill, his uncle, Owen, played by Phil Brown, and his Aunt, Beru, played by Shelagh Fraser. They are moisture farmers living on the Lars homestead and surviving on crops they grow using moisture vaporators., this parallels farmers like the Starrett family in Shane, from 1953, and the Edwards family in the Searchers from 1956. In fact, Owen and Beru are quite similar to the Edwards family in the Searchers, as in the Searchers, the Comanche, which are a Native American tribe, threaten the Edwards family way of living, where as in A New Hope, a tribe of Tusken Raiders are a threat to Owen and Beru's way of living. Tusken Raiders are very much like the Comanche in behaviour as well. They are a tribe of mostly male creatures and they herd Banthas, which are meant to look similar to buffalo. It is also stated in the film by Obi Wan, played by Sir Alec Guinness, another resident of Tatooine, that the Tusken Raiders often attack in single file, this is similar to attack patterns utilised by Native Americans in the Old West.

Another parallel to the Searchers appears later in A New Hope, there is a shot seen from the point of view of R2D2, where Luke is saved from a Tusken Raider attack by Obi Wan Kenobi. This mirrors a shot in the Searchers where Ethan Edwards is reunited with his niece, Debbie, after she was taken from the farm by the Comanche.

Soon after, Luke rushes home back to the homestead to find it on fire and Owen and Beru's chard remains laying outside. It's deduced that they were killed by Stormtroopers. Luke, after realising he has nothing keeping him on Tatoonie any more, decides to join Obi Wan on his mission to save Princess Leia played by Carrie Fisher. This characterisation of Luke having nothing to lose is somewhat similar to Clint Eastwood's character, the Stranger, in High Plains Drifter from 1973. In that film, the Stranger comes to the town, Lagos, the townsfolk are not sure who he is or really why his there. He is hired by the town to protect them from three outlaws who have just been released from prison. The Stranger is similar to Luke by the fact that the Stranger is the previous mayor of Lagos, and after his run out of town, for trying to do the right thing, he has now returned to seek revenge on the town that cast him out and took everything from him. In Star Wars, Luke joins Obi Wan to help take down the Galactic Empire that has taken everything from him.

Luke, Obi Wan, R2D2 and C-3PO travel to Mos Eisley, which Obi Wan describes as “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.” Mos Eisley is the Star Wars version of a Saloon found in most Western films. The way Luke and Obi Wan enter Mos Eisley is somewhat similar to how Jess Wade, played by Elvis Presley, enters the saloon in the film, Charro from 1969. Wade walks into the saloon and all the people inside stare at him, he walks up to the bar and looks around, similarly to Luke when he first walks into Mos Eisley. Wade is then bothered by two bandits who don’t like the look of him, and everybody’s attention is drawn to this confrontation. In A New Hope, Luke is interrupted by two bandits, Cornelius Evazan and Ponda Baba who begin threaten him, he is saved by Obi Wan who takes out his Lightsaber and decapitates Ponda Baba’s arm.

Luke and Obi Wan are introduced to Han Solo, played by Harrison Ford, and Chewbacca, played by Peter Mayhew. Han Solo is the A New Hope’s version of the gun slinger. Han Solo is dressed similar and has the characteristics of the classic Western gun slinger. He wears a vest with a white shirt, and blue trousers, he even has his gun, or rather his blaster, holstered at his hip, ready to duel at a moments notice. His characteristics are moderately akin to Steven McQueen’s character, Vin Tanner, in the Magnificent Seven from 1960. Tanner is a drifter and a gambler who is completely bankrupt due to losing at poker, he joins the Seven because he can't stand the alternative of working off the debt in a store. Han Solo is a smuggler who, during a recent hire, was boarded and lost the cargo that he was hired to deliver. He is hired by Obi Wan and Luke to deliver them to the Princess and only agrees to help when the salary of the job is significantly raised. Tanner is also deadpan and snarky, two traits that Han also possesses, Tanner also has a right hand man known as Chris Larabee Adams played by Yul Brynner, whereas Han has Chewbacca, a Wookie, as his right hand man.

Han Solo is also proven to be the classic Western gun slinger through his actions, as seen when Greedo goes to confront him about the lost cargo. This scene, in particular, is where the infamous “Han Shot First” movement stems from. In the original 1977 cinema release, Han shoots Greedo without being shot upon, which is very much akin to characters in classic in Westerns, like Tuco, played by Eli Wallach, in The Good, the Bad and the Ugly when he shoots a man from underneath the bubbles in his bath, after the man confronts him, and the Stranger in High Plains Drifter, when he shoots three men when they confront him while he is having a shave. However, in the 1997 re-release of A New Hope, the director, George Lucas, re-edits the footage to make it seem like Greedo shoots Han first, and Han retaliates. Lucas has stated the reason for this change is that he wanted Han to come off as more of a hero and not a cold blooded killer. However, I feel this change isn’t needed. The original version is more like Han, and is better for his character arc as here he goes from a rogue smuggler who only cares about himself, money and Chewbacca to the hero of the Rebellion that he becomes at the end of A New Hope. Han shooting Greedo first is more like the classic Western gun slinger that could be inspired from a Sergio Leone spaghetti-western.

After the Greedo scene, Obi Wan, Luke, R2D2, C-3PO, Han and Chewbacca all convene at Docking Bay 94, where they are due to take off. Han is stopped by Jabba the Hutt, and he tells Han that he needs to pay for losing his cargo, and Han tells him that he can pay after this next job, to which Jabba responds with “I’ll put a price on your head so big, you won’t be able to go near a civilised system.” This is slightly comparable to Western such as For a Few Dollars More, from 1965, in which Clint Eastwood’s character Monco, who is a bounty killer chasing El Indio and his gang, who are wanted dead or alive. Shortly after this, Stormtroopers are alerted to R2D2 and C-3PO’s presence and behind firing upon the Millennium Falcon which Obi Wan, Luke, R2D2, C-3POand Chewbacca are boarding. Han fires back giving the other characters some cover fire, and then quickly boards the ship himself, this short gunfight resembles the closing scene of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, from 1969, in which Butch, played by Paul Newman and Sundance, played Robert Redford, are surrounded by the Bolivian Army, and to escape, Sundance lays down covering fire while Butch goes to retrieve their horses. The scene features a gunfight in which Butch and Sundance are outnumbered, and during their escape Sundance manages to take a few soldiers down, this is mirrored in A New Hope, as Han takes down a few Stormtroopers, and the Millennium Falcon is able to take off.

This is the final scene set on Tatoonie in A New Hope, and there are many different elements that make this film, and Star Wars as a whole, the creative, critical and commercial success that is.I feel that, in part, it is down to it influences. A New Hope is a film that has it’s influences rooted in many different genres, and it managed to combine them all into one to create something that, at the time, is truly unique. That combination is one of the many things that makes Star Wars such an impact and incredible piece of cinema for myself.

#star wars #western #scifi #cinema #film #a new hope #movie

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gunnersalley · 7 years ago

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New Post on Gunner's Alley Blog

New Post has been published on http://blog.gunnersalley.com/concealed-carry-on-campus/

Concealed Carry on Campus

Here’s a very interesting and well written (at least IMHO) article about the pros of CCW on college campuses, and includes some details about specific colleges and universities who have existing pro-CCW laws on campus already. Disclaimer: I re-published the article in it’s entirety, but I have not had the chance to validate all the legal data included so take care using any of this information as a basis or suggestion to carry concealed on any of the referenced college or university campuses. As the data has been completely verified, I cannot say with absolute certainly that any of the CCW laws or statutes references below are still in effect and valid.

Concealed Carry on Campus Is More Common, and Useful, Than You Thought

“Recent tragedies have put a spotlight on the issue of firearms in schools, particularly whether there should be more or fewer armed personnel protecting students in the classroom. What many do not realize is that students and teachers at some colleges and universities have for years been able to arm themselves on school property.

Which States Allow Guns On Campus, Under What Circumstances

Several states have statutes that explicitly protect the right of licensed individuals to carry concealed firearms at public colleges and universities:

Utah —In 2007, Utah became the first state to explicitly allow concealed weapons permit holders to carry firearms on public college campuses.

Colorado —The Concealed Carry Act of 2003 clarified the state’s concealed carry permit process and established statewide uniform standards establishing carrying restrictions. Then, in 2012, the Colorado Supreme Court determined the University of Colorado system could not prohibit concealed carry permit holders from carrying on campus.

Mississippi —In 2011, the state passed a law prohibiting public universities from enforcing firearms bans on persons with “training-endorsed” firearms permits.

Kansas —In 2013, the state passed a law that allowed for the carrying of concealed handguns on the state’s public university campuses and in university buildings, beginning July 1, 2017.

Idaho —In 2014, Idaho Gov. Butch Otter signed into law a bill that allows enhanced concealed carry permit holders to carry concealed firearms on public university campuses.

Texas —As of 2016, all state four-year colleges and universities must permit individuals with concealed handgun licenses to carry loaded, concealed firearms on campus. This statute took effect for all state two-year and junior colleges in 2017.

Tennessee —As of 2016, full-time employees of state public colleges and universities with concealed carry permits may be armed on campus. Students are still prohibited from carrying firearms on campus.

Arkansas —As of Sept. 1, 2017, individuals 21 or older with concealed carry permits may apply for an enhanced permit to carry on college campuses.

Georgia —In 2017, the state passed a law permitting any person with a valid weapons license to carry concealed firearms on the grounds of public college and university campuses.

Most colleges and universities in states that protect the right to carry concealed weapons on campus have policies prohibiting firearms from being carried in certain sensitive areas and buildings. For example, the University of Georgia prohibits the concealed carrying of firearms at athletic events, in Greek or university housing, or within “disciplinary action locations.” Similarly, the University of Texas at Austin allows faculty members to declare their offices as “gun-free zones,” and students are not permitted to keep their weapons stored in their dorm rooms.

Some Universities Refuse to Cooperate

In several more states, the law on the books is complicated by administrative rules from non-cooperative colleges and universities. In Oregon, for example, the law protects the right of individuals to carry concealed firearms on public college and university campuses, and the state’s Court of Appeals in 2011 struck down an institutional policy prohibiting the possession of firearms on campus. This has not stopped state universities and colleges from continuing to post guidelines purporting to prohibit the concealed carry of firearms on campus, even as county attorneys publicly state these policies cannot be legally enforced under state law. The state of the law in Wisconsin is even more uncertain. In 2011, Gov. Scott Walker signed Wisconsin Act 35 , which makes it lawful for persons with concealed carry licenses to be armed in public as long as they do not present themselves with criminal or malicious intent. The law created exceptions for certain public buildings but did not expressly include college or university buildings among those exceptions. But the University of Wisconsin system continues to enforce an administrative code that prohibits firearms on campus, despite the wording of Wisconsin Act 35.

Allowing Law-Abiding College Students to Defend Themselves Can Save Lives

After Colorado passed its Concealed Carry Act in 2003, the University of Colorado argued that an obscure legal loophole exempted it from the law because it did not expressly state its requirements applied to the university. Then-Attorney General Ken Salazar issued a nonbinding opinion agreeing with the university, which subsequently continued to prohibit firearms on campus because, officials argued, they “threaten the tranquility of the educational environment in an intimidating way” and “contribute in an offensive manner to an unacceptable climate of violence.” In the years following the enactment of the concealed carry law, Colorado State University—which permitted concealed firearms on campus— experienced a 60 percent drop in reported crimes. Meanwhile, the University of Colorado—which continued to prohibit students from defending themselves with firearms until a 2012 Colorado Supreme Court ruling found the prohibition unconstitutional—experienced a 35 percent increase in reported crimes. In other words, it appears that the University of Colorado created a more threatening and intimidating educational environment by banning firearms than Colorado State University did by allowing students to effectively defend themselves. This makes sense. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention found that firearms are much more likely to be used in a defensive manner than they are to be used for criminal activity and are used defensively somewhere between 500,000 and 3 million times per year. Not only are firearms invaluable for defense of self or others, but concealed carry permit holders as a group are statistically among the most law-abiding citizens in the nation. It is hardly surprising that, according to John Lott of the Crime Prevention Research Center, “Not once has a permit holder in any of these states [that allow college students to carry concealed firearms] committed a crime on one of these campuses with a gun.”

Disarming Students Has Traumatic Consequences

In 2013, legislation was introduced in the Colorado Legislature that would have prohibited the concealed carry of firearms on campus, even for permit holders. Rape survivor Amanda Collins provided powerful testimony before the Senate State Affairs Committee, highlighting how a similar prohibition in Nevada had resulted in her inability to defend herself against her attacker. As a 21-year-old college student, Collins possessed a Nevada defensive handgun license, which normally would have permitted her to carry a concealed firearm. But the University of Nevada at Reno prohibited the possession of firearms on campus, regardless of whether a person had a defensive handgun license. She was raped just a few feet away from an emergency call box, in the parking garage of the campus police station, which had closed for the day. “Had I been carrying concealed, he wouldn’t have known I had my weapon,” Collins told the committee. “I know without a doubt in my mind at some point I would’ve been able to stop my attack by using my firearm.” She further demanded to know “[h]ow … rendering me defenseless protect[s] you against a violent crime?” Collins’ rapist went on to rape two more women and murder another before he was stopped—something Collins could have accomplished had the university not disarmed her. It is highly likely Collins indeed would have been able to effectively defend herself had she been permitted to carry her firearm that night.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention concluded that “self-defense can be an important crime deterrent,” and that studies evaluating the actual effects of defensive firearm use consistently find “lower injury rates among gun-using crime victims compared with victims who used other self-protective strategies.” Further, when the Census Bureau interviewed more than 2,000 people who said they had been sexually assaulted between 1992 and 2002, only 26 stated they used a weapon to resist—but not a single one of those 26 cases resulted in complete rapes, because all would-be victims reported that the confrontation ended swiftly after they deployed their firearms. Collins was a law-abiding citizen with a natural, pre-existing right to defend herself against violent attacks. The Second Amendment exists, in part, to protect her right as a law-abiding citizen to defend herself in the most effective way possible—with a firearm. Her question remains as valid today as it did in 2013: What did anyone gain from disarming her and rendering her defenseless? The answer remains: nothing.”