#redline reviews

[largemouthbassnation]

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[mauesartetc]

Thoughts on Helluva Boss 206 ("Oops")

Holy shit, is this episode... kind of okay? It still has issues and weird quirks that hold it back from being truly good, but I'd say this is one of the better Season 2 entries. At least it's good enough that I have a sufficiently-sized, dedicated "pros" list again. Let's get into it.

Pros:

-FINALLY, we have an mlm couple worth rooting for in this show. Fuck that Stolitz bullshit; Fizz and Ozzie are where it's at. ("Fozzie"? Yeah, that works.)

They're actually kind and caring with each other, they're playful and know how to laugh together, and they treat each other like equals rather than one partner fetishizing and sexually harassing the other. Hell, Ozzie even tends to Fizz's wounds at the end of the episode, and it's powerful to see a high-ranking demon in this society show tenderness and concern for a lowly imp. In a previous post, I expressed my doubts that Fizz and Ozzie's relationship would be any good, but I'm glad to report I was wrong.

-I liked seeing a glimpse of what one of these characters outside of the IMP team does for a day job. Approving designs at the dildo factory? Ehh, it's a livin'. (Though this once again begs the question of why demons live in a capitalistic society nearly identical to that of the US in the human world. Why do they need money to reinforce the social hierarchy when the larger, more powerful demons have special abilities and can just crush the smaller ones like bugs?)

-The heart-shaped flames in Ozzie's fireplace were a nice touch.

And they actually referenced Asmodeus' traditional fire-breathing ability at the end. Neat!

-Oh wow, one of the characters is finally floating the idea of Blitzo using an Asmodean crystal for transportation instead of the grimoire! THANK you!

And at the episode's close, Fizz permits Ozzie to give Blitzo a crystal, meaning he won't be dependent on Stolas anymore. Possible plot progression? How will this affect Stolas and Blitzo's relationship in the future? Would they still be in each other's lives even when the book isn't a factor? I hesitate to get my hopes too high due to the worrying possibility of Blitzo's crystal getting lost or damaged and forcing him to use the book again (though as to why he can't just steal a crystal and use that, I haven't the faintest idea). But I'm cautiously optimistic.

-I liked Stolas getting a chance to show some brain power in helping Ozzie negotiate the contract. This also gave us a nice tidbit of worldbuilding that states any contract signed by one of the Seven Sins is eternally binding. Is this foreshadowing? Will this information come up again in the story? Probably not, but it's fun to dream.

-It was interesting to see Blitzo, Fizz, and Striker have a conversation about each of their relationships with Hell's upper class, though it had potential to be SO much deeper and more authentic (which I'll get into momentarily).

-This is where I learned the white bits on Blitzo and Fizz's skin are actually burns. I always thought Fizz was wearing face paint and Blitzo had some form of vitiligo or something, but the reason he's burned on that side of his face is that it's where the explosion hit him. And Fizz's entire face is white for the same reason, except for his nose, since he was wearing a fake clown nose at the time. It's nice that they kept those details consistent in the flashback.

-Look, I know it's a low bar for most shows, but I appreciated how the story actually gave Blitzo a chance to apologize and redeem himself at the climax rather than making Fizz just forgive him apropos of nothing.

-Oh hey, one of Blitzo's relationships has actually progressed. He and Fizz, after hating each other for years, have made amends. I really hope this friendship doesn't revert to what it was before, like Blitzo and Moxxie's relationship did. But I don't think that'll be the case since Fizz isn't the story's designated whipping boy.

-It was nice how Fizz and Ozzie's respective interactions with Blitzo and Stolas helped them grow and change. I mean, Ozzie still isn't comfortable with anyone outside the palace having definitive knowledge about his romance with Fizz, but baby steps, y'know?

Cons:

-So Crimson's aware he just showed his face to an extremely high-ranking demon, right? He comments that Ozzie is the "weakest" of the Seven Sins, but he's still goddamn royalty, and Crimson is an imp. What's stopping him from sending someone to wipe out Crimson's entire gang after getting Fizz back, or doing it himself like it's implied he did with the lawyer? Crim really couldn't have disguised his voice and stayed in the shadows? Rookie mistake.

Come to think of it, Striker was in that video too, and it never occurred to Stolas, "Oh shit, that's the guy who almost killed me"? Again I have to ask, why isn't Stolas sending people after him? He's a prince, after all, and canonically commands multiple legions of demons. Why the fuck are you allowing this guy to run free, dude?

-I was kinda looking forward to seeing Crimson again, but his reintroduction would have been much more emotionally powerful if it involved getting revenge on Moxxie, which is what the ending of Exes and Oohs implied he now wants. And I know I've said before how going too many episodes without a mention of Striker diminished his menace, but did he have to show up just two episodes after his last appearance?

In general, Oops feels like it has too many returning "guest stars", if that makes sense. Fizz, Ozzie, Crimson, Striker... that's a lot to pack into one episode. Maybe instead of Crimson and Striker, we could have a new villain holding Blitzo and Fizz hostage.

-Speaking of the villains, MAN are they shoveling handfuls of Stupid Pills into their mouths. When Fizz sings his little distraction musical number, they just stand and watch instead of, oh, I don't know, trying to capture him?! Like damn, Crimson and Striker used to be credible threats. This is just embarrassing.

-Also, I know they need to keep Fizz alive until the ransom money comes through, but what reason do they have not to immediately waste Blitzo? Striker hates him for thwarting his assassination of Stolas, and Crimson hates him for crashing his son's arranged wedding. Are they trying to get Stolas to cough up some dough as well? Because that's a pretty major plot development that the script should have made clear to the audience. Basically, the only reasons Blitzo lived through this ordeal are that he has main character plot armor and the villains are being uncharacteristically dumb.

-As expected, in Stolas' subsequent appearance following Western Energy, he's out of the hospital. But I didn't predict he'd be completely recovered from his wounds. Seriously, not even a limp.

Stolas getting hurt was a consequence that impacted absolutely nothing outside of that episode. Are we going to see any scars later on, or perhaps Stolas getting uncomfortable at the sight of knives? Because of how wildly inconsistent this show's continuity can be, I'm guessing no. (And since we don't know how long it normally takes for demons to heal from angelic weapon-inflicted injuries, it doesn't help us get any sense of how much time has passed in the story.)

-Actually, if a royal fucking an imp is such a taboo in this world, why did Ozzie agree to meet with Stolas at all, let alone act so hospitable toward him? If Ozzie's so concerned about his own image regarding imps, wouldn't allowing a known imp-canoodler into his home raise a few eyebrows? More importantly, why in the actual hell does he have a giant, sexy painting of him and Fizz on display in his office where anyone can see it?

And that brings up another question: Why is Ozzie's relationship with an imp being covered in the tabloids, but Stolas' relationship isn't? You might think, "Well, he's a lower-ranked noble, so it's not as newsworthy" but if that's the case, why was there a crowd of reporters snappin' pics when he arrived at the hospital?

"Well y'see it's not really the imp-fucking that's frowned upon; it's the imp romance!" Then why did everyone at Ozzie's club make such a huge stink about Stolas coming there with an imp? The club is located in the Lust ring, where romance is seen as disgusting, so we can safely presume the vast majority of the couples at that club are just fucking. It would be bad form to take someone you're openly romantically involved with to a Lust ring establishment (lookin' at you, Moxxie). Therefore, the patrons and Ozzie himself had every reason to presume Stolas and Blitzo were having sex, and just happened to be right. (Also, if nobles fucking imps were actually no big deal in this world, Stella probably wouldn't have an issue with it either.)

The worldbuilding's an inconsistent mess, is what I'm saying. And Beelzebub's relationship with a hellhound is also strangely unaddressed, making that episode feel even less connected to canon than it already did.

-Man, Stolas is kinda oversharing here, isn't he. It'd be fine if a character who's already been established to let their mouth wander were doing this, but Stolas hasn't previously shown any signs of that.

He reveals he has feelings for Blitzo, to the ruler of a ring whose culture frowns on romance. And... he just expects him to be cool with that, for some reason. At this point he doesn't have solid proof that Ozzie is in love with Fizz; those are just rumors. So this is an extreme lack of tact he's displaying. Also, Ozzie ain't your therapist, dude. And as far as we know they're just acquaintances, not close friends. He could have just skipped to requesting the favor; Ozzie didn't need to know his reasons. Sure, tell him if he asks, but he didn't ask. Or maybe just hint at Stolas' feelings through subtext: His expressions, body language, and all the words he can't say. Visual medium, people.

-For that matter, why is this seemingly the first thing on Stolas' mind right now? "Oh, y'know, I'm going through a very messy divorce and my wife sent a hit man to kill me, and he's still on the loose, probably killing other people as we speak, but can you do this wittle favor for my fuckbuddy, pwease?" We could have just had a quick scene outside Ozzie's office where Stolas communicates with one of his lieutenants regarding updates on the search for Striker. And the reason he's not searching with them? He's still recovering from his injuries. Give him a wheelchair, a cane, a cast, just something to show he's not physically up to it yet. Without this information, where in the actual fuck are his priorities.

-"I know your demons are some of the only ones who can traverse freely and legally." Y'know... This is Hell... Why is legality even an issue in this setting? I think I touched on this for Exes and Oohs, which revealed the existence of Hell Jail. But why is there a Hell Jail? Why are there (presumably) Hell Cops? How does any of this make sense in an environment that thrives on chaos and discord? Oh, and Hell Lawyers are apparently a thing too, because of course. This is why you don't want to build your fantasy world with too many elements that exist in the real one unless you have airtight logic for it.

-When Ozzie tells Stolas Fizz hates Blitzo, his response is, "He does?" The fuck do you mean, Stolas. You were at the club. You witnessed Fizz point out Blitzo in an effort to humiliate him, call him a "total disgrace", and refer to his love life as a "pile of shit". You should already know he hates him. Sure, Stolas doesn't know why yet, but this is why you need editors to cut the parts of your dialogue that don't make any sense.

-I'm not sure what this show's actual stance on the ultra-wealthy is. Fizz tells Blitzo, "Sounds like you just hate him for being a prince", as if princes are a group that's commonly discriminated against-? Sure, a person has no control over being born into extreme wealth and privilege, but they can control how they use it. And when they don't use it to make society better for everyone (opting instead to hoard all the resources for themselves), that will naturally breed resentment in the lower classes.

Another odd thing I noticed about this conversation: You know that one rule in the Bechdel-Wallace test that states a work of fiction's female characters must talk about something other than a man in order for that work to pass? This instance makes me think we need a similar media test regarding class, because here we have three lower-class characters talking only about rich people. Not the societal systems and personal histories that led them to rely so much on rich folks just to get by, but about the rich folks themselves. Hell, Blitzo even says "Royal demons don't give a shit about guys like us", clearly more concerned about wealthy people's opinion of him than the untenable situation their complacence and wealth-hoarding has caused for countless imps. In this scene, the "haves" are very much at the center of the have-nots' universe, and it puts me in mind of a male writer who assumes the only things women discuss with each other are their relationships with men.

Now let's talk about Striker. Time and time again the show has painted him as unreasonable for hating royals, and while his methods are extreme, there's probably a rational explanation for why he holds the views he does (at least if he's being written in a thoughtful, realistic way, which is a MAJOR stretch for this show. But for the sake of this discussion, let's say he hypothetically is). The average imp in this world would have good reason to hold a vague dislike for the royals, but hatred? Passionate hatred? That comes from a deep, personal place. At least one "blue blood" must have done something unforgivable to Striker specifically, and I wish the show would properly explore his motivations. Maybe drop some hints about his backstory once in a while, perhaps in this very conversation? Because this show's villains are really hurtin' for some nuance, and Striker's the one with the most potential for it.

It feels like the writers were trying to say something about real-world issues here, but the message got muddled. Part of it seems to be "don't make broad generalizations about people", which... Okay, nice thought, but if Stolas isn't using his power to improve life for all imps, not just Blitzo, Blitzo has no reason to believe his affection is genuine. For all he knows, imps are still just a fetish to Stolas, and he's only acting nice to keep him around. His love, to Blitzo's mind, is entirely conditional, and until he sees evidence that nobles contribute anything of substance to society, he's not wrong in thinking they don't care and "They're all the fuckin' same". Maybe he'll change his mind if Stolas calls off their deal and offers to hang out with no sex and no strings attached. Guess we'll have to wait and see.

-Also, this was an unintentionally-hilarious gem:

CRIMSON: Hey, hick-for-hire! I said watch 'em, not fuck 'em!

STRIKER: (Immediately leaves)

Great watchin' there, bud. And Crimson is smiling despite Striker going against his orders-? I mentioned in the Exes and Oohs review that there was a disconnect between Crimson's dialogue and what was actually being shown on screen. Old habits die hard, I guess.

-"Everlastingly binding", Stolas? You can't just say "eternally binding", which has the same meaning and would flow more naturally? Under normal circumstances this would feel like a nitpick, but Stolas' phrasing was weird in Western Energy too. He told Blitzo he was "stolen" when "kidnapped" would have been more fitting, seeing as he's a person, not an object. (Hell, he could've just said "spirited away" if they wanted to be fancy with it.) This is a character who's supposed to be well-read, being written by someone who thinks this is how bookish people talk. An abundance of syllables doesn't equal eloquence.

-So if we take a closer look at what Blitzo is holding in the flashback, we see he has a flower and an envelope sealed with a heart sticker, with "For Fizz's eyes only" written on it. This implies he was about to confess his love for Fizz. And in Fizz's flashback, we see Blitzo's dad handing him a card that says "Wish You Were My Son", which I guess is what upset Blitzo and made him storm off, causing the fire.

But those important details are very "blink-and-you'll-miss-it". I didn't catch the card at first, so Blitzo's angry reaction left me very confused. It looked like he saw Fizz being happy on his birthday and just left in tears for no reason. Yes, a good show trusts the audience to piece things together themselves, but we shouldn't have to pause the episode and play it back to see if we missed some crucial element that flashed on screen for two seconds.

-Also, like... Why does romance need to be a part of it. These two have known each other and worked closely together since they were kids, so isn't that kind of like Blitzo having a crush on who was essentially a brother figure? I don't know, it just felt shoehorned in, like Blitzo needs some kind of flirtation or dalliance (or good ol' sexual harassment in Moxxie's case) with every single man in his life except his dad.

-I'm getting tired of these flashbacks dialing the angst and trauma levels up to 11. "This kid was horribly burned... ON HIS BIRTHDAY!" "This kid's best friend was horribly burned... AND HE LOST HIS MOM!" For fuck's sake, it's like these writers are brainstorming what the grimmest possible outcome could be in a given situation, and using that to ostensibly wring some tears out of the audience. Here's the thing, though: We never knew Blitzo's mom. We never saw what her personality was like or what their relationship was like, therefore we can't get nearly as sad as the writers want us to be when she dies.

Think back to past animated stories that did this right. You know why the deaths of Bambi's mom, Littlefoot's mom, and Mufasa were all so heartbreaking? Because we got to know them. We saw how joyful they were in life. How strong, how wise. So it stung all the more deeply when we knew what their children lost.

Blitzo's mom isn't even a character, really. She's a prop the writers are using to exploit the audience's emotions, which is even more unfortunate when you realize that's what Moxxie's mom was, too.

So let's say you're a writer and you want a character to feel guilty about a horrible accident they caused, so horrible that it almost killed their best friend. Okay... It almost killed their best friend. That should be more than enough to make anyone feel guilty, right? Well apparently the Spindle crew felt the need to heap even more guilt onto Blitzo by making that accident also kill his mom. Why wasn't Fizz enough? Why did yet another nameless female character have to lose her life? If Blitzo needed something to distract him from Fizz's pleas for help, you'd think trying to put out the massive fire would suffice, but apparently not. It's all just so forced and manipulative.

-"You're all I had left, Fizz." Wow, so Barb's just chopped liver, huh? Jesus, Blitzo. No wonder she hates you.

-This drawing of Striker's face foreshortens his snout way too much, making it look a lot shorter than it really is.

And for those who haven't seen the episode, this is a held frame, not an inbetween or smear or anything like that, so there's really no excuse for it to look like this. Let's try to suggest more length and structure in the snout, and eliminate the tangents in his smile while we're at it.

I know drawing characters with long snouts can be tricky in a front view like this, but that's what turnaround sheets are for.

-What's ironic about the song "Look at This" is that it's a perfect analogy for how this show uses slick, flashy animation to distract its audience from the amateurish writing. Just an observation.

-Fizz goes on WAY too long about how big Ozzie's dick is. Yeah, great, we get it. Move on, show.

-"Why is it always a sex thing?!" I'm with Striker on this one. Almost every queer male character on this show is preoccupied with sex to an unreasonable degree. I mean Fizz is boinking the actual embodiment of lust and has had sex robots made of himself, so the horniness kinda makes sense for his character, but Blitzo? Stolas? Even Moxxie had his moment where he said "Harder..." to Striker, though that was just to get his guard down. Still, though. It's excessive, guys. It's tired. Come up with some new material.

-FIZZ: You blew me up again, you fuckin' prick!

BLITZO: I did. But this time I stuck around.

Ehh, feels like those lines would have been much stronger if Fizz said them both. Here it sounds like Blitzo's just defending himself, as if he saved Fizz not out of the goodness of his heart, but because he wanted to score brownie points with him. Just feels a little manipulative of him, and out of sync with the more genuine moments the episode showed us earlier. Maybe something more like this:

FIZZ: You blew me up again, you fuckin' prick! (Blitzo looks down, ashamed. But then Fizz realizes something.) But... I'm glad you stuck around this time. (He smiles and hugs Blitzo.)

Allowing Fizz to come to that conclusion on his own is so much more powerful than Blitzo spoon-feeding it to him. Oh, and by the way...

-"Would it fuck up the moment if we made out right now?" Yeah, Blitzo. Yeah it would. Much like how this show can't allow an emotional scene to breathe without making a joke. It's not quite as bad as the tone whiplash with Crimson's wall dildos, but it does spoil the moment a bit.

Overall, not the worst Helluva Boss episode. Not the best, but not the worst. I fully expect the next one to be pointless filler that doesn't advance the story, though, so I might skip it. The problem is, this show's quality boomerangs from bad to okay to bad again in the span of a few episodes. One episode might get my hopes up, the next might dash them, and then there's this morbid curiosity in wondering if the next one might be the one that I finally love. I wanted to like this show so badly (gotta support that indie animation and all), but dear God, this writing.

It's still possible the series could evolve into something great, but my patience in waiting for that is very nearly worn out. Maybe (and that's a GIGANTIC maybe) I'll stick it out to the end of the season, but if the finale sucks, I'm done. Anyway, I need a palate cleanse, so here's more Fizz and Ozzie to end this on a positive note.

[beyondthegate]

We hope you're excited - tomorrow's Redline review is ready and raring to go!

[lovelymona]

Fuck I just saw redline and LOVED IT!! I saw the English dub which was pretty solid I would love to check out the original VAs. I want what JP and cherry have like YEAAHHHH king be obsessed with me and shower me with kindness and attention!!

[h0neyfreak]

***

[imalloutofgin]

Long time, no see...

Hello friends, I have been watching things this whole time I promise! I have finally graduated from my masters degree and will hopefully post a lot more frequently... But I am considering moving to video form. What do the few of you that actually read these think? Anyways, here's some mini reviews!

American Psycho (2000): Absolutely amazing, very funny while also being harrowing. I cannot comprehend how so many misunderstood this brilliant satire. 5/5

A Simple Favour (2018): Very fun. I adore Anna Kendrick and Blake Lively in this. THE OUTFITS! Recommend for a relaxed watch. 3/5 stars.

The End of Evangelion (1997): I would love all this symbolism if it had any other meaning besides "Catholicism looks cool". Great imagery with nothing to say. 2.5/5 stars.

Redline (2009): Good, but too over the top for me to really love it. My girlfriend was a big fan though. 2/5 stars.

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953): I was going to give this film 4/5 stars but I actually can't stop thinking about it and I've watched it twice through. Really fun, great quotes, Marilyn Monroe at her finest. 5/5 stars.

Lady Bird (2017): I sobbed like a baby. This affected me in ways I can't fully articulate. What a painful and accurate depiction of a strained mother and daughter relationship. 5/5 stars.

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016): A fun romp, but nothing to write home about. 3/5 stars.

Oceans 8 (2018): Looking at my notes I've given it 2.5/5 stars but I don't remember it being *that bad*. Certainly nowhere near as good as Ocean's 11... I did have fun though. 2.5/5 stars.

The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (2023): The more I think about this movie, the more mad I get. The book slaps - it's about fascism and it says something about power. The movie is about a guy falling in love with his tribute and he's a bad guy, actually. 1/5 stars.

Talk To Me (2022): What an amazing Australian film! Great music, awesome concept, and Australian as fuck. I would have liked there to be a bit more of an intense tone shift to create more fear, but other than that, basically perfect. 4.5/5 stars.

I have more reviews coming, so stay tuned!

[yesterdanereviews]

Redline (2009)

Film review #605

Director: Takeshi Koike

SYNOPSIS: In the future, the most thrilling race in the galaxy is held every five years. racer JP manages to qualify for the race after other competitors drop out, and must risk his life in the ultimate race...

THOUGHTS/ANALYSIS: Redline is a 2009 animated sci-fi film. The film is set in the future, where the ultimate race in the galaxy has competitors fight to the finish line by any means necessary; risking their lives to achieve fame and riches. One of these racers is JP, who manages to qualify for the redline race, even though he crashed out of the previous race, since other racers withdrew because of the race taking place on Roboworld, where the the rulers will attempt to stop the race by any means necessary. The film starts off with the preliminary race and we immediately get the full force of the movie: high speed and explosion that never misses a beat. This is where the film's strengths really shine, as the animation is smooth, colourful, and detailed. The film is composed of over one hundred thousand hand-drawn frames, and is quite an feat to pull off, however it certainly seems worth the effort.

The weakness in the story comes in the middle part of the film, where there is no racing, and the film relies on character interaction and development. This isn't completely void of interest, but it does feel like the film is padding itself out a little before the big race, and there's no real impactful relationships between the characters. There's some hint of a past between JP and Sonoshi, another racer in the redline race, but it's never really resolved or impacts the story, which is odd. The romance element again doesn't feel earned between them. When the racing picks up again though, you're treated to an intense display of speed, action and well choreographed set pieces that will make you quickly forget all of that. The influence of futuristic video games such as Wipeout and F-Zero are also easy to spot, as the high speed, high stakes racing combined with the colourful and varied character designs such as you might see in F-Zero, add some real variety and visual appeal to the film, even if you're not really given much backstory to their characters or the universe in general.

Overall, Redline is at its best when is being a general assault on your senses: when it's fast, loud and violent, it's captivating and a thrill to watch. The set pieces, pacing, and scale again give the film an epic feel. The film does slow down a bit during the middle, and fails to really cement much character development or raise the stakes personally for them. None of that really matters much though, as the film shines where it needs to when the race is on and the action is high.

[ballingb-a-g-s]

This is as negative as any of my reviews are going to get any worse and IL just give it the stars

[sbdskate]

Laws Of Attraction (Part 6) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: language, slight angst, alcohol consumption, mature themes

Word Count: 3,635

A/N: That’s right, I broke the ending into another part which means another chapter is on the way. If you’ve been keeping up, I appreciate you sticking with me through my draughts and generally inconsistent posting schedule. Thank you again for every like, comment, and reblog. Please let me know what you think and enjoy ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1

The week passed more quickly than you anticipated. You pulled an all-nighter to draft the language you promised. It helped that you couldn’t sleep anyways. You tried to make up for it on the twenty-hour flight from Brazil to Abu Dhabi but again, rest evaded you. It didn’t help that between the travel and the time difference you basically lost a day and a half. You threw yourself deeper into your work as a distraction. You were thankful that there were lots of back and forths of redlines, as expected.

But no matter how busy you kept yourself, you couldn’t stop thinking about that damn kiss that had now been tattooed in your mind. You wished it wasn’t good. You wished he had chapped lips and tasted like onions. But it had enveloped you. The way he grabbed you and the feeling of his stubble on your face set off butterflies in your stomach and other places down south. You were pretty sure you saw through space and time and you suddenly had the ability to hear colors.

And even though the kiss was so good, it was made bittersweet by everything that was discussed afterwards. You didn’t miss the warmth leaving his eyes and his obvious disappointment. On one hand, you handled the situation the best way you knew how. You had been very clear in Mexico on the limits of your relationship, that should not have been a surprise to him. Your job was to be professional and you reestablished those boundaries. On the other, you had somehow removed every laugh line from his face. You missed the crinkles around his eyes and the reverberating bravado of his laugh. If there was another way you could have gone about the conversation, it was lost on you. Leaning into the kiss and those feelings surrounding it was legally impossible. He would simply have to pick up his bruised ego and move on, which you were sure wouldn’t be difficult. The thought helped you somewhat – he was still a handsome, charismatic celebrity who could get any girl he wanted. You were one piece of parsley in an endless buffet. Poor little rich boy couldn’t have the one dish he wanted right now, but as soon as the season was over and you went your separate ways, you would be a distant memory he would laugh at in retrospect. Amongst the models, actresses, singers, and influencers he could pick from, he had trauma bonded with his very average and nerdy lawyer during a particularly vulnerable point in his life.

As your thoughts meandered during the course of the long flight, you were appreciative that you would not be on your own this weekend. The partner apparently decided to show up in Abu Dhabi, finally making Daniel a priority knowing that the matter would be closing. You had gotten somewhat frustrated with Joe, that he kept cancelling on meetings last minute leaving you to deal with everything. There were several silver linings, however. First, you hoped it meant he trusted you with the significant responsibility, which again would likely lead to a positive performance review and a hefty bonus. It may even come in handy a few years from now when you would become eligible to make partner yourself. Second, in picking up that responsibility, you had grown a lot professionally in the last few months. Belgium felt like a lifetime ago, in more ways than one. In the last few restless days your mind kept reflecting back to that first race weekend when you were full of nerves, but lately you didn’t quite feel like the same young associate with a chip on her shoulder and something to prove. Third, for better or worse, you grew to know you client in a way you would not have been able to but for the partner’s absence and that transfer of duty. Because you knew him so well now, you were better able to represent him. This was, of course, a double-edged sword. You’d unintentionally gotten to know the driver far better than you intended. Over the course of months, he poked little holes in your armor leaving you open and vulnerable and inching you closer towards that delicate line you dared not cross. The two of you had danced around it for weeks. If you hadn’t crossed it before, kissing certainly pushed the two of you over the edge together. You wondered what he thought about all this, considering he had far less to lose from the predicament. It would probably be awkward the next time you saw each other, but hopefully still respectful and professional if nothing else.

-

Meanwhile, Daniel along with the rest of the grid arrived in Abu Dhabi a day early to have a retirement dinner party for Seb. Seb had been unexpected source of support during this uncertain time in his career. Not all of the drivers had reached out to him when news about his early termination with McLaren broke. Of those that did reach out, some were simply surface level exchanges lacking compassion and depth. Seb, however, had helped him navigate a slew of existential crisis. The least Daniel could do was return that support to his friend. He sat next to Lando and Pierre, the drivers chatting amongst themselves during the meal. Of course there was a general curiosity about his plans for next year, but he playfully remained tight-lipped. The conversation was light, reminiscing and debriefing on some of the post-race debauchery over the course of the season. It was all fun and games until Pierre brought up Halloween in Mexico and his failed attempts at bringing home an instragram influencer and a model that night.

“I think I might be losing my touch. But that was a fun night though, yeah?”

“It was, I’m surprised you remember most of it,” Daniel teased.

“Honestly, me too. That girl dressed as you, she was a good time.” Daniel did his best to remain casual, though his heart skipped at beat at your mention.

“Yeah, y/n is fun when she’s not working.”

“I’ve seen her around the paddock a few times. She’s your lawyer, right?” He took a long drink, not liking the direction the conversation was headed.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe when the season is over I can grab her number.” It was more of a statement than a question. Daniel feigned ignorance at the request and laughed.

“I mean I can give it to you, but she probably wouldn’t be able to help you.”

“How so?” Pierre looked at Daniel, both men visibly confused.

“I mean I’m no lawyer myself, but wouldn’t it be a conflict of interest for her?”

“Oh no dude, I don’t want her services – or, uh legal services I should say,” he said cheekily. Daniel’s ears immediately turned red, his jaw clenched, and hand balled into a fist. He did his best to control his facial muscles to not let on to the fact that Pierre had unknowingly stepped on an emotional landmine. Lando, who had been talking to Zhou across from him, sensed the shift in the driver sitting next to him. He diverted his attention for a moment to try to break the tension before Daniel could say or do something he would regret.

“Pierre, she’s way too smart for you and you’re not her type,” he said casually, earning a laugh from the others including Pierre.

“What are you talking about, I’m everybody’s type,” he said with a smirk.

“Yeah, I think that might be part of the problem,” Lando responded. “Plus, you’re already in a committed relationship with this one,” jabbing his thumb in the direction of Yuki. That side of the table continued to laugh and joke, Daniel included, but he didn’t miss the chance to lock eyes with his teammate to silently convey his thanks for discreetly deflecting the conversation away from the woman that had taken up so much space in his mind. Had he really almost punched his friend at a fancy restaurant during his mentor’s retirement party? He was in deep. Hook, line, and sinker.  

Daniel had bought himself more time extending the signing with Red Bull, but he had no idea what he was doing. You had made it abundantly clear that nothing could happen until after everything was signed. You also hadn’t explicitly said whether you wanted anything to happen afterwards... All he knew, whether or not anything progressed further between the two of you, he just needed to be near you. He needed more time with you, beyond Monday.

The evening continued with heartfelt sentiments exchanged, and Daniel found himself more and more in his feelings especially as the drinks flowed. He thought he recovered from Pierre’s comments at dinner, but then Seb gave a speech to the rest of grid that brought him to the brink of tears. His mentor’s goodbye made him reflect and contemplate his own journey over the year. Though neither driver would be on the grid next season, Daniel was envious that Seb had the opportunity to leave the sport on his own terms compared to the lack of agency he felt with his tenure with McLaren. Feeling unmoored, you showed up out of nowhere to turn his ship around at the eleventh hour. He wasn’t sure what was next for him, but he knew he couldn’t do it without you by his side. Maybe another drink would take his mind off you.

The night continued, one by one the other drivers called it a night. But Daniel stayed until the wee hours of the morning with some of the younger drivers who had higher tolerances. Lando took note of his teammate’s condition who refused to believe he couldn’t keep up. They hadn’t discussed the elephant in the room, but he could put two and two together even if he didn’t have all the details. You might have been discreet, but Daniel was anything but. He noticed how Daniel perked up just a little on the days you had meetings. He noticed the stupid looks you gave each other, each party oblivious to the other. He noticed all the times you went out with the drivers at Daniel’s invitation, which was surely not in your job description. And right now for whatever reason likely involving you, Daniel was miserable, his melancholia exasperated by alcohol.

“Hey mate, I think it’s time to go back to the hotel,” Lando said as he put an arm around Daniel.

“Nooo, but we’re having fun! For Seb!” Daniel slurred as he held up his drink triumphantly.

“We are having fun, but we have to get up really early. Remember?”

Daniel was too tired to fight back. So he pouted as Lando corralled him into the backseat of the car back to the hotel.

-

You rolled into Abu Dhabi at 2am. You were exhausted. You had no shame about rocking under eye patches and a face mask mid-flight to at least hopefully make it look like you’d gotten some type of rest over the last two days. Unfortunately, the dark circles that remained begged to differ.

You were in the middle of checking in when you heard commotion in the lobby behind you. You rolled your eyes at the drunks stumbling in, keeping your head down to avoid any interaction.

“That’s it, almost there mate.” You knew that voice. You slowly turned to find Lando struggling to guide a dazed Daniel towards the elevator. You rubbed your eyes and blinked a few times to make sure you were seeing clearly. That made you wake up.

“Lando? Daniel?”

Both drivers looked your way. You suddenly became very aware and self-conscious of your grungy airport outfit: messy bun, no makeup, and full Enchante sweatsuit Daniel had gifted you after Japan. You couldn’t decipher the look Lando gave you that was equal parts relieved and concerned, but Daniel’s face lit up immediately showing off those darn dimples.

“Y/n!”

“Hi. What are you guys doing?” you asked hesitantly. It was mostly directed at Lando since he still had his wits about him, but Daniel answered anyways.  

“We had to say goodbye to Seb,” he said solemnly. Lando rolled his eyes seeing the immediate look of concern and confusion on your face.

“Jesus Christ. The guy’s retiring, he didn’t die.”

You gave a polite smile. “I’m sorry, I think I’m missing something.”

“The whole grid had a retirement party for Seb, not a funeral as this one might have you believe. It started with dinner but some guys stayed out and well… he’s just been slightly overserved.” You pursed your lips together to keep from laughing. You could tell Lando’s patience had run thin, but despite his annoyance he had made sure Daniel got back safe which you appreciated.

“Well, thank you for taking care of my client.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m fine,” Daniel slurred a few feet away, leaning against a pillar in the opulent lobby – immediately followed by him almost slipping but quickly catching himself. He smiled again, proud and satisfied with his own rescue effort.

“Right…” you drawled. You turned to the concierge who had been patient and stoic as the scene unfolded. You’d been informed that the hotel catered to Westerners, but you were still cautious being in a country that technically followed Sharia law despite the many exceptions for expats and tourists. “My apologies ma’am, is it ok if I help escort my friend to his room for a moment? I can finish checking in afterwards.”

“Of course Miss l/n. I’ll still be here.” Having the green light to accompany the two boys, you and Lando flanked Daniel linking your arms through his to walk him to the elevator.

“I don’t need help,” *hiccup* “I’m a strong, independent woman,” he said, though he did nothing to resist your assistance.

“You are maybe half of those things,” you retorted.

“That’s being generous, I give him zero out of three,” Lando chimed in.

“Oh be nice, you know you can feel those muscles,” you lightly countered as you gave Daniel’s bicep a quick squeeze. You gave him a tired, playful smile and the look he returned you was so full of adoration it felt like your heart was going to burst at the seams. He leaned his head on your shoulder when you stepped in the elevator and you wished you could put the moment on pause to keep him there a while longer.

“You can’t possibly be referring to these chicken wings,” Lando replied. “Do you have your room key?” Lando asked Daniel, breaking your daze. Daniel shuffled for a second, patting his pockets, then nodding in confirmation. “Good, I’m going to bed.” He pressed the floor for himself, then Daniel’s.

“I’m sorry, what?” Lando gave you a knowing smile.

“I already did 90% of the heavy lifting, I’m sure you can handle it from here.” You shot daggers his way, Daniel still between the two of you, blissfully unaware of your quarrel. “See you in seven hours,” he said as he got off the elevator.

You sighed as the elevator doors closed, leaving the two of you alone. Daniel was too drunk to feel awkward about the predicament given how you last left things, a lazy smile still on his face.    

“You called me your friend. To the concierge.”

“I did.”

“I thought I was your client.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.” He hummed in response. The answer seemed to make him happy. His eyes grazed over you, his smile growing.  

“You’re wearing my clothes.”

“An astute observation.”

“They look good on you.” The elevator doors opened as a blush crept to your face. You guided him into the hallway and ignored his comment.

“Ok, what number are you?”

“This way,” he said, ignoring your question and yanking you to the right. You kept your arm around him to steady his swaying. You could smell the alcohol coming off him, making you wonder about the events leading up to this but whatever it was wasn’t a conversation for today. He finally stopped in front of a door and fumbled with his pockets. You waited to make sure he could get into his room, but after a minute or two you got concerned.

“I can go back to the concierge to get another key-”

“No, no, I got it.” You watched as he fished it out from the depths of his front pocket, then struggled with getting it to work on the fob.

“Here, let me help you.” Your own patience running low, you took the key from his hands and opened the door. You had planned on finishing your check-in when you knew he made it inside, but felt bad leaving him in the condition he was in. You reasoned that it was to help him avoid a hangover in the morning so that he would be as camera ready as possible for press day, but it was a loose excuse.

You cautiously entered his room and turned on some lights. Your jaw dropped for a moment – his room was at least triple the size of every other hotel room you had stayed at over the course of the season, every detail pristine. You held the door open for him as you ogled in the foyer. He pinballed off the door frame to make his way inside, leaning against the wall across from you. He openly took you in, admiring how his merch hung from your body more perfectly than he ever could have imagined. He didn’t turn away when you returned his gaze.

“Come on let’s get you tucked in, you have a long day tomorrow – or in six and a half hours.” You grabbed his arm again and brought him towards the bed, and he happily followed you like a puppy. You were relieved he was at least cooperating. You sat him down. “Ok sir, where do you keep your pajamas?” He gave you a wicked grin.

“I don’t wear any,” he said shamelessly. You pursed your lips, you knew you walked into that one.

“Of course you don’t. Well when I leave you can get undressed. Just sit tight for a sec.” You opened up the bottle of water by the coffee maker and poured it into a glass. “Here, drink this.” He guzzled the water, so you poured him another. “Good job. How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here.” He showed off his pearly whites with a giant smile, closing his eyes as his head flopped back.

Oh my God, you’re so drunk, you said under your breath. “I’m serious, do you feel nauseous at all? Headache?”

“I’m peachy,” he said as he swung his legs back and forth off the bed. He played with his hands in his lap. Seemingly able to entertain himself at least for a minute, you walked into the bathroom to go through his toiletries to find some Advil and maybe some tums for the morning. When you returned, your patient was already taking off his shirt and had started undoing his belt.

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down there tiger. Why don’t you take two Advil first?”

“I’ll do anything you tell me,” he said before swallowing the pills you handed him. “I’m going to miss you when you leave.” His sudden shift in tone threw you off. You sat down next to him to show your support and solidarity.

“You know you can always call me. It will be like I never left.”

“As a friend?” he asked hopefully. You smiled and put a reassuring hand on his thigh.

“Yes, definitely as a friend.” There was a pause.

“What about as more than a friend?” *hiccup* “Like, afterwards?” You bit your lip, but smiled.

“I think that’s a conversation for another time.”

“You didn’t say no.” You laughed.

“You’re drunk as a skunk and this is the moment you choose to dissect semantics.” He picked up your hand resting on his thigh, bringing it to his lips to kiss without breaking eye contact.

“Enchante.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, but it sure is charming as heck,” you said between laughs. You pulled your hand back and stood up. “On that note, I think you have everything you need so I’m going to head out. You have two more ibuprofen on your nightstand for the morning and two tums in case you get heartburn or an upset stomach. I set your alarm for 8:00 so you can sleep in a little, but still gives you an hour to get ready before you need to head to the paddock. I think it’s ok if you’re fashionably late.” He pouted. “Oh come on now, no need to frown. You get to take off those pants and go to bed. I’m going to go to bed too.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to stay?” He gave the best puppy eyes he could. Matched with his bare torso, six pack on full display, and unbuttoned belt and pants, anyone with a weaker constitution would’ve folded immediately. But at this point you were a trained soldier, the end of your internal battle in sight. You did make one concession though.

Maybe it was impulse. Maybe it was the jet lag. Maybe it was the possibility he wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning. But in a streak of boldness, you brought your hand to the side of his face, feeling the sharpness of his jawline and the texture of his stubble. You bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Maybe next time,” you murmured, your lips ghosting over his.

His eyes were flying saucers when you stood. “Good night, Daniel. Get some rest.”

Despite how tired he was, it was hard for him to fall asleep after that.

Taglist: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @zendayabelova @eitak-t @chiliwhore @wewoo1233 @thatchickwiththecamera

[contemplatingoutlander]

This is the first time I've clearly seen the actual revisions a state education department (Virginia) is making to a high school elective course on African American history (which focuses on that history in Virginia) because of a GOP governor's (i.e. Glenn Youngkin's) executive order prohibiting “inherently divisive concepts” from public schools.

This is a link to an archived article, so anyone can read the entire article. Below are some charts in the article that show the recommended revisions:

It is clear from the above chart that the reviewers want any mention of systemic racism and White privilege to be eliminated from the course, even though there is clear evidence that both exist.

It is also deeply concerning that any discussion of "implicit bias and stereotypes" is banned, even though those of us in the social sciences know that implicit bias and stereotyping exist. To prevent high school students from learning about these concepts is a blatant attempt to keep them ignorant.

Again, based on the chart above, the proposed revisions have done away with any discussion of the ubiquitous nature of racism or the fact that systemic racism exists. Instead the proposed revisions focus on (presumably overt) "discriminatory practices," while ignoring the subtle ways that racism has affected the Black population over the years, including the way it affected returning WWII Black veterans.

[See more under the cut.]

Furthermore, according to the proposed revisions, the term "White supremacist" cannot even be used. I wonder how the reviewers expect teachers to be able to describe the ideology of members of the KKK?

The reviewers also apparently want to pretend the University of Virginia wasn't involved with the Eugenics movement, since they took out a reference to it. In addition, the proposed revisions wouldn't allow the Eugenics movement to be called a "pseudo science." Are teachers supposed to claim it was "science"?

The reviewers also apparently want to forbid a discussion of how Eugenics was used in Virginia "to control African Americans," which indeed it reportedly was.

Furthermore, the recommended revisions falsely assume that redlining no longer exists, and that historical redlining no longer has an impact. Although it is not as overt as it once was, redlining does still exist in various forms and the impact of older redlining practices still have negative affects on Black populations.

From what I can tell, the proposed revisions have NOTHING to do with trying to stop students from feeling "uncomfortable" in classrooms. Discomfort naturally occurs for all of us when we learn about things that go against what we previously believed. But that is how people learn and grow.

And if the GOP wanted to stop "liberal" teachers from "indoctrinating" their students into "left-wing ideas," they would simply have legislated the presentation of two sides of an argument, AS LONG AS both sides were factually-based and rational. (For instance, there is NO factual or rational argument that the Holocaust didn't happen or wasn't as destructive as it was).

But the GOP politicians want to BAN the discussion of any view of history and society, however factually and rationally based, that goes against their whitewashed ideas of how history should be presented. In other words, the GOP wants schools to indoctrinate students into a right-wing way of viewing history and society that favors Whites.

This is incredibly regressive, and reminiscent of the United Daughters of the Confederacy's attempts to ensure "The Lost Cause" mythology was taught in schools.

[cuubism]

@magnusbae challenged me to write smut using professional email language, and i'm nothing if not a slut for abusing corporate jargon!

-----

>> Saturday, March 26, 8:32pm – Morpheus <morpheus @ dreaming.com> to Office (All):

Subject: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

I do not appreciate tardiness. Cease your dallying at once come Monday morning. Or there shall be consequences.

>> Saturday, March 26, 8:41pm – Hob <robert @ dreaming.com> to Morpheus:

RE: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

Morpheus, mate, all due respect, what with your being the sole god, ruler, and iron-fisted authoritarian of the place, but do you have nothing at all better to do than send work emails on a Saturday night?

And before you say, "but Hob, you yourself are replying to emails this Saturday," you are so right! I’m currently drinking alone :)

>> 8:42pm – Morpheus to Hob

I should fire you for such insolence.

>> 8:47pm – Hob to Morpheus

Do it then :)

Alternative proposal: we commit several HR violations like we did in the office on Thursday.

>> 8:50pm – Morpheus to Hob

All proposals must be submitted to me in writing.

>> 8:52pm – Hob to Morpheus

You really want a paper trail?

>> 8:56pm – Morpheus to Hob

It has an email trail already, does it not?

>> 9:05pm – Hob to Morpheus

Please find attached my detailed proposal.

attachment: :)_version_1.docx

>> 9:07pm – Morpheus to Hob

This is twelve pages that only say, “I want to suck your dick.”

>> 9:09pm – Hob to Morpheus

What, have you got edits or something?

Do you need more time to review? Wanna circle back on it later? Block some time on my calendar to go over it? ;)

>> 9:15pm – Morpheus to Hob

My redline is attached.

attachment: :)_version_2.docx

>> 9:17pm – Hob to Morpheus

I’m amenable to those changes.

But on second pass I think we can accomplish more in this partnership. I think I’d like to take you apart slowly, have you begging. You’re always demanding, I think it might be good for you to beg for once. It’s not good business to agree without a little negotiation. I wanna see you beg for my cock.

What are your thoughts on this addition?

>> 9:40pm – Hob to Morpheus

Hi Morpheus, I hope this finds you well. Just following up on this question :)

>> 9:50pm – Morpheus to Hob

Perhaps I am considering.

You may wish to consider that I am your boss.

>> 9:53pm – Hob to Morpheus

I think there’s been a miscommunication. You seem to be laboring under the misapprehension that I give a fuck about that.

>> 9:54pm – Morpheus to Hob

I truly should fire you.

>> 9:55pm – Hob to Morpheus

Don’t you think you deserve to cum first?

>> 9:56pm – Morpheus to Hob

After I beg for it, you mean?

>> 9:57pm – Hob to Morpheus

Now you’re getting it.

If I correctly guess that you’re in your bed, that you’ve BEEN in your bed while you’re “considering,” do I get a gold star? Employee of the month?

>> 10:00pm – Morpheus to Hob

There is no possible universe where you win such an award.

However, your supposition may be correct.

>> 10:02pm – Hob to Morpheus

Excellent, so we’re on the same page, then :)

Are you touching yourself? Are you imagining it’s me touching you instead? Because I’m imagining I have you under me and I’m fucking into your tight hole instead of my hand. (And typing emails w/ one hand is not so easy btw).

>> 10:03pm – Morpheus to Hob

I have two fingers inside me. But it is not enough. I would have your cock.

>> 10:04pm – Hob to Morpheus

I think you know what I wanna hear.

>> 10:05pm – Morpheus to Hob

…Please.

>> 10:06pm – Hob to Morpheus

There’s a good boy.

Don’t worry, love, I’ll give you everything you want. You’re taking me so good, I just know it. Going to feel it for days.

>> 10:07pm – Morpheus to Hob

I am.

Yes

I would have you come in me. If you’re amenable.

>> 10:08pm – Hob to Morpheus  

Fuck you make me so hot. Yeah I’m amenable. Will you cum for me first? Can you cum just from the feeling of me inside you?

10:09pm – phone call from <unknown>

“I thought… you would want to hear it.”

“God your voice… did you get this number from the HR directory?”

“What if I did?”

“Kinda stalkery but kinda hot. Are you close?”

“Very. I… I want you. Badly. Please, Hob.”

“I have you, darling. Ah, you beg so pretty. You can come. I want to hear you. Can you do it without touching yourself? Be good.”

“I can’t—”

“I know you can. Go on. Imagine me with you. Holding your hands to the bed so you can’t touch yourself. I can imagine how beautiful you look. I’d kiss you if I was there, wreck your mouth, too.”

“Hob—”

“Go on. For me?”

“Ah—”

“There you go, sweet thing. I wish I could see you.”

“Will you… come for me now? So I can feel you inside me?”

“Fuck—”

“Good. You feel… so good. Worthy of employee of the month, perhaps.”

“Oh, fuck you, Morpheus. You don’t even have awards at this place.”

“Of course I don’t. That would be inane.”

“Are you satisfied with my efforts, at least?”

“I am pleased to say that I am.”

“Still, I think we should probably debrief that meeting. You wanna touch base about it in person? Say… eleven pm? My calendar’s clear.”

“…Yes.”

[beyondthegate]

Our first review of the month is live! This week is all about Redline, the race that only takes place once every five years. Check out our review and let us know your own thoughts if you've seen this movie: http://shorturl.at/dpS26 Enjoy!

[jellybracelet]

After six months of being blocked by someone, I believe there should be a process by which the Blocked can submit a plea to the Blocker to, in good faith, argue for their unblocking.

The Blocked should submit letters from up to three mutuals-in-common certifying the Blocked's good character.

At the time of the Unblock Request Form submission, there can be an option to pull up old, problematic or annoying posts for the Blocked to make redlined corrections for how they would post them if they were created in present day.

After the Blocker reviews the submission, they can choose to

a) throw out the request and maintain the block.

b) offer their own counter-evidence to the Blocked's claim of good character—after this is submitted and reviewed by the Blocked, the Blocked can either surrender and sacrifice their request OR begin the process again with amended claims and recommendation letters from new mutuals-in-common. A counter can only be initiated once. If a resolution is not decided after the Blocked's second submitted claim, the request is thrown out.

c) accept the request and unblock the previously Blocked.

If the Blocker chooses to unblock, there is a firm, one month no-block period where the (ex-)Blocker is prohibited from attempting to re-block the previously blocked user. After one month, they are free to block again.

A re-blocked user must wait a minimum of 365 days before submitting another claim to the same Blocker.

Users who feel they are being constantly pestered by an individual blocked user can submit a claim to Tumblr Support to have the Unblock Request Form permanently deactivated for that blocked user.

[ninja-muse]

This month's last-minute review is brought to you by something of a reading slump. I've read a fair number of good books this month, if you look at the ratings I've given them, but no books that I've gotten excited about, that I've felt were unexpectedly good enough that I had to talk about it.

Until now.

Lovecraft Country was my first Matt Ruff, and it's not going to be the last. It's well-written, with strong characters and good humour, and a really interesting structure. It's a smart book, and feels very grounded and real. Is it an astounding book? No, but it does its thing very well and I enjoyed reading it more than I thought I would.

Let's start with the structure, because that's one of the things that impressed me most. It's a novel-of-stories, with each chapter being a different character on their own adventure, but there's still a narrative arc for the book, clues the characters gather and the readers pick up on, and nastiness that builds and builds until the final showdown. It's a tough structure to pull off, but Ruff's done it.

I also liked that the structure lent itself very well to a sort of puzzle-box story. You get all these clues and hints about what's truly going on, even if you don't realize that till later, and even though you kind of know where the book is going, watching everything slowly slot into place and trying to put everything together before the characters do is a good part of the fun. It's a lot like watching good SFnal TV, which Ruff's author's note says this was meant to be; you get invested in the characters and the individual "episodes", but there's meaning in that key, that comic book, that thing in the forest. Surely there must be, but how?

And the characters! I loved all the point-of-view characters—they're smart, opinionated, complicated, aware of the forces acting against them and doing what they can to avoid them. I was scared for them, I wanted them to succeed, all that good stuff. The white people are also believably drawn, in that they're self-important, greedy, and used to power, but also, when the story allows for us to see it, sympathetic and complicated all the same.

It's hard to say whether this is science fiction or fantasy, but it's definitely in that wheelhouse rather than being a straight-up historical novel. There are ghosts and monsters and grimoires and secret dimensions and a lot of other stuff you might expect to find in a book that's influenced by pulp fiction and early sci-fi and horror. But, as with a lot of genre work that tackles such things these days, Ruff has fun with this stuff while also adding a social twist to them. In this case, having a Black cast allows Ruff to illuminate and comment on the racism inherit to the 1950s. There's humour to it, but in a way that helps the points hit home.

And that brings me to the last thing I need to mention: that this is a book about Black people written by a white man. It's also written primarily for white people, as far as I can tell, because while the characters take redlining and sundown towns for granted, Ruff doesn't assume that his readers will even know what those are or, if they do, be aware how they actually impact people. However, Ruff's also done his research and tackled the subject thoughtfully. The characters don't conform to stereotypes but are definitely informed by their pasts. The stuff they face goes beyond the usual talking points of Black History For White People; there's mention of boycotts of racist businesses, the Tulsa race massacre, the intricacies of buying real estate while Black, the difficulties of loving science fiction when everyone who writes it hates you. And of course he acknowledges that dealing with racist BS on a daily basis and constantly being underestimated puts you at an advantage when there's some really massive BS going down. I thought Ruff handled it all very well, without being heavy-handed or going into anything that he couldn't do justice. (Well, maybe Ruby's story. I need to think about that one more.)

So yeah, I was surprised by this book on a few fronts, and I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. The humour and love of SF tropes, balanced with the antiracism and social commentary, was right up my alley, and the way Ruff told the story was the cherry on top. Like I said, it's not an amazing book—it might have pushed the boundaries of speculative fiction when it came out but it certainly doesn't now—but it entertains and enlightens and does so cleverly. This won't be my last Matt Ruff, like I said above, but I'm also not likely to pick up another one for a while. Maybe in a year or two when I get a hankering for the sort of stuff he does.

[chubbydino]

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[hoursofreading]

I BOUGHT A SWEET TEA at a downtown lunch spot and reviewed the notes for my talk. Before I arrived at the conference, I had decided to discuss bias in algorithms. The essence of my argument was this: In 2019, shortly after I finished graduate school, I worked for a company that made a real estate chatbot called Brenda. Brenda answered questions about apartment listings and booked prospective tenants for tours. My job was to supervise Brenda’s conversations as an “operator,” and if she went off script, which she often did, I took over until she regained her bearings. Over thousands of conversations with strangers, I began to suspect that Brenda’s diction — and the very fact of her texting interface — was most palatable to the young, affluent, and white. I feared this had real effects on which people booked tours, and which people were so put off by the experience of speaking to Brenda they looked for housing elsewhere. Was this not redlining by algorithm? The peculiar mental burden of the job was that I was made to live in parallel but opposite realities. On the one hand, our Slack channels were filled with messages from developers claiming righteous intentions. Brenda was making the rental process accessible, democratic, quick as a text. And yet every night I watched how this bot, with her blameless, chirpy affect, was an instrument of isolation, a digital bully that landlords used to create distance between themselves and their tenants. Though she hadn’t crossed my mind for some time, I remembered Ella, a woman who messaged Brenda so often I came to recognize her on my shifts. Ella spoke only Spanish. Brenda did not, and neither did most of the chatbot operators, so we corresponded with Ella by copying and pasting Spanish phrases from a Google Doc we had compiled on our own time. Ella was a tenant at one of Brenda’s properties. Ella’s messages were urgent and anguished. She spoke of violencia and God. Her situation was unclear. She sent video clips of her walls and ceilings, which came through as still images without sound. We were fairly certain Ella was trying to report domestic violence in the apartment next door. We told Ella that if she or someone else was in danger she should call 911. Ella did not call 911; it was possible she was afraid to engage the police. We told Ella to call building management, but the management’s only phone number rerouted to Brenda, the chatbot who handled rental inquiries. Ella, I should note, was not the woman’s name. She offered us her real name several times, which we manually added to her file. But Brenda, ever keen, kept spotting the feminine singular pronoun ella — a more suitable name by Brenda’s logic, more like the names she had seen before — and entering it into the name field, obliterating whatever had been there. “Como te llamas?” we would ask. “¡Ya te dije!” she would say. The woman’s true name was finally lost.

An Age of Hyperabundance | Issue 47 | n+1 | Laura Preston