#regular citizens can't tell who runs the country

[dresden-syndrome]

You know I’m sending in whumper turned whumpee for the ask game <2

Whumping in EESU: Whumper turned whumpee

A detention officer being convicted of political disloyalty ends up in another prison. This time, as a detainee. Wearing the uniform and restraint of the people they used to torture, eating their food and sleeping in their cell.

An arrested high-ranking State Security worker interrogated by personnel of much lower position than they were.

"You said, how dare we speak to a brigade general like that? You've been arrested and convicted. You're a political offender. You're nobody now."

A government worker has been caught for a class 4 offence. They are much more terrified, desperate and hopeless than others right from the first day because they actually know what it is like.

On the other hand, a government worker with a class 3 offence making a hard choice to tell the interrogators everything they need because they're too afraid of being demoted.

"You can't do this!... I serve our Motherland!... I'm not a Western spy!..."

A former ASR employee designated to the exact lab they were working for.

A higher-rank official designated "for personal use" to someone they used to work with, desperately trying to reach out to their former comrades as they all just pet them like a kitten.

An ASR lab registration employee accepts a pet for the regular health check; as the pet is brought to their office, they're shocked to recognize a familiar face - the face they've seen at the facility inspection a few months ago.

A Border Police officer, previously excellent at stopping desperate citizens from running away from the country, caught secretly helping their family escape.

A young dissident planning an assassination attempt caught red-handed just a moment before their plan could work.

A petty criminal decided to mug a lone man with expensive watch on his wrist. As the man pointed a gun and showed his State Security service ID, they realized they're in a serious trouble.

A resigned whumpee hearing their sentence, responding only with "If the Party said I'm the enemy, I'm indeed the enemy".

The regret and guilt the secret project worker whumpee gets overwhelmed with as they finally realize the "biological assets" they used to test and practice on are... just people. Just like them. But as they're now declared a "state enemy" themself, it's far too late.

Whumpee thinking they know how to behave in detention to avoid being mistreated; yet, despite their excellent behavior, it happens, and it happens a lot.

Interrogators coming up with unusual torture techniques to obtain a confession from the whumpee who was one of them before and therefore knows all their common tactics.

Detention officers mocking their "western spy" whumpee by making them read the State Security oath and beating them more for "betraying" it.

Detained whumpee writing letters to the Party Central Committee or the Supreme Commander himself in a hopeless attempt to prove their loyalty and innocence.

"If you really loved the Party and the Motherland as much as you say you do, you definitely wouldn't work for the West like that".

[ishouldgetadiary]

there are definitely cleverer people to discuss this at length than me and there are probably people who already have and come to the same or better conclusions, but i do just want to say that an aspect of kim kitsuragi i can't get over is his disconnect from being seolite (outside of the racism). i don't know, it's very important to have asian characters with strong cultural ties who have that culture accurately expressed through their character/stories and i do love those characters, but it's somewhat rarer to see the alternative (at least, when race and culture is acknowledged at all), let alone it being a point of pride for them, the same way it is for kim. all of this to say, i feel haunted by what he says when you ask him about his heritage.

i didnt ask him about it on my first run (because i found the way the question is initially asked to be kinda rude and i was afraid of if it'd make him like me less, lol) but i did in my current replay and the way he dances around the topic, 'i'm half seolite, well technically, my parents were both quarter, i guess you could also say im quarter, i don't know the language or culture and i've only lived in revachol', it fucks me up so bad! first is how you can tell it's mostly a defensive tactic for him, at least when he starts the rant— somebody asks about the race thing? deflect. i'm only half. i don't even know the language. i'm not one of those seolites. second is how he loosens into pride when he realises/remembers that harry isn't asking to be racist, he is genuinely having trouble remembering that the concept of race exists, but also because it lets kim kinda show that it is something to be prideful about in revachol.

dont get me wrong— i think kim kitsuragi is genuinely proud of being as revacholian as anyone else. he loves revachol. i dont think he’d go along with harry so easily on random side quests or have opinions on if harry helps or hinders the people of martinaise if he actually didnt care. i dont even know he’d still be a cop or (more accurately) be one for as long as he has been, especially when he’s spent most of it as a juvie officer, if he didnt believe in revachol. it’s people, what it is, and what the country could be. people like to take his position as a police officer as just his way of feeling a sense of power in a post revolutionary (khm. and racist) world that has never had the space for him or his dreams, but kim is more three dimensional than that. ESPECIALLY when there are ways that being a cop gives him less power than regular citizens in revachol. he likes, wants, and believes in both, and that’s not necessarily hypocritical. in the same way, i dont think it’s at all hypocritical that his pride is rooted in both his love for revachol AND the way white supremacy has impacted him. because yk, when he’s proud about his lack of connection to his heritage, it’s not just his love for revachol speaking, it’s also the disdain that we, the player, hear for seolite people (at least what we hear from or related to kim).

that all being said, i dont consider that to be a terribly complex thought at all— real life people are complicated and multifaceted, so kim kitsuragi is written to also be complicated and multifaceted. in disco elysium, the writers are never worried about presenting the world in a better or worse way than it already is. yes, it is definitely a heightened version of our reality, but it also presents everything as direct as possible. case example would be the racist lorry driver in what he says versus how he’s presented. in that very first interaction when kim confronts him and harry catches up on what just happened, he denies and hides in the same way a lot of people deny and hide that they are being racist, but you, the player, cannot avoid or pretend he isnt being racist, because it is literally in his name. you are not given the grace of real life where there is the option of either the benefit of the doubt or genuinely questioning your own assessment. despite all of that, ultimately, it is still haunting for that early kim question to be so reminiscent of what i see in real life.

in the example of a shorter ramble, kim's own ramble weirdly reminds me of myself, but in the opposite direction. i very easily and quickly tumble into word vomit and over-detail my heritage just to make it make sense that my name isnt white. and i'm not gonna boohoo over my own personal situation at all when i know i benefit from white supremacy, but i hate that ultimately, white supremacy ‘won’ when it comes to 'me'. because just like kim kitsuragi, i don't know a language that isn't english, i dont know a different culture, and i've only lived in my predominantly white country.

but a more apt comparison is my own father. a man who’s internalised shame cant even allow him to comprehend why somebody white would want a tan, because he’s always been at least a little tan, and that’s part of what ‘clocks’ him as not fully white, who does try to connect with his mother’s culture, but just kind of ended up with only odd bits and pieces of it and the language, because it was something that would’ve just made life harder than it should be, and despite everything, he’ll still do things like dunk on chinese people. there may be more to say, but you get the gist. and yet somehow none of it has quite reaches the point where he can recognise it in himself. because he knows racism and white supremacy is bad and he’s obviously against it, but it is hard to acknowledge that it is greater than just the lorry drivers and measureheads of the world. because we live with the consequences and the rot of white supremacy within us. assimilation has done it's job to it's logical conclusion.

… and yet it is a limbo, and a hollow one at that. regardless of how white i am, i still dont fully relate to my fully white peers, because there are ways in which i dont share in their accepted shared experiences. my father has never felt accepted in either club, ‘too japanese for white australians and too australian for japanese people’ (can you believe that disco elysium was almost banned from my country)! our fully white peers will never know what it’s like to be able to look at the face of a complete stranger of a different race and see family. to see their aunts, or grandparents, or parents.

but kim kitsuragi talks of that limbo with pride. he may never feel a true sense of community with either white people or other seolites, and this is something his brain seems to choose not to fully acknowledge, even though he definitely feels it. and really, it’s haunting in the same way i find both my father’s and my involvement in society disconcerting. the truth that, in spite of where white supremacy and assimilation can get you, you will never truly achieve the community or peace of mind there is in ignorance.

despite all that, on a brighter note, i do think that in terms of what kim truly likes harry for and what gains his trust in him is the choice for harry to be that sense of community he needs. (if i am remembering right) kim will only really trust you if you chose to defend him from the several racists you’ll encounter and make jokes at their expense with him, because it’s highly HIGHLY unlikely that barely anybody goes through that effort for him. even when it’s pretty clear that the writers were going for humorous ‘haha, white guy trying his best to be an ally’ dialogue choices, kim himself doesnt really show that he finds it obnoxious or unwanted, it’s genuinely something he would rarely get other rcm members even though that is the community he’s definitely and wholly part of.

anyways i have no idea if this post made any sense or if im really wrong (i could be!) because it came from a more personal place than maybe typical character analysis but whatever

[indefatigablepaths]

Lil Debbie Bitches Clinton Sparks Remix 1 hour loop

Ok. I'm doing this. While I get all nippy, and I speak. I bark I bite. I do all those things because I have to. These things happen. Oh, and now we wan'na talk.

Ok. I'm not done with this, but they did find - a little - more money. The money doesn't matter inside the system, ok.

This talk is all a scene, more money. Every building in the country, and every job - while you're inside. That runs on a percentage.

I think they call the money fraud official wise a COLA percentage. They just say 30 percent all more money ever given out is still mine forever.

The system literally just plays pretend and hands itself more money. Except it uses little people.

So the system has never had an inflation adjustment for citizens one time. In all of history.

Before my history I can't even find a document.

0 dollars

I am leaving the system because of complete corruption.

That means maybe like 9 million new homeless people by next month.

You can't even pretend to live on this much money without special training.

My favorite song from A Perfect Circle is Blue.

I don't dictate the rules of a dream. I just don't die. Despite your dreams.

I told you they had a ghost army on ghost ships.

Ya. I think you can buy your tax returns back, from online too. I've worked here my entire life.

Ya. I had to get so high to do this. I had to get fired from my job probably forever.

The guy with the hair. Why is she standing with Summer in that house.

No.

I had to take the maximum amount of adjustments to my bills, next month. Or I would have bailed early.

Every time I contact the new land lord I get the same story.

500 apartments in this city. You go next door.

The property line is supposed to matter.

Although I never knew how that feels in strip malls or parking lots, complex buildings. I used to think about it a lot. I'm also barred by Summer there anyways. I can't do that.

Do you really think you can't grow algae in some storage shed that doesn't even afford one power outlet?

No one believes you can get picked up for property lines in a cab.

I think you're really in the wrong business if you think you can argue about what I do with my keys.

Yeah I got so mad about this. I started thinking Id go all guerilla and flush it down porta toilets.

Do you really think a bottle across a city is gonna hit me for algae?

I haven't used a garbage truck for five months.

Ya. I can't even pay my rent. She is a bundle of nerves that swerve. I would crash my plane.

You know the projects stay broken forever. As far as I know. You can't fix the bathroom. You can't fix your room. That space is illegal property.

Ya he thinks that's funny. He's not living.

An hour with you is almost up and the police had to knock on my door.

See I'm not asking anyone. Wasn't that Metallica.

I ask no one. That's a joke.

You all go insane all the time. Days, weeks whatever. You keep telling me the internet is illegal.

I'm being told again this is the way things will be. I've snapped out of this every other time.

Getting caught up in a psycho imagination.

Though I do see the mind needs time to rearrange itself. Not sure where the mind thinks it believes itself.

If you don't go completely green the rats will eat your internet connection. Like it was food.

As far as I see this is an order. So feel free to tell me it's not. What. You said. I can't tell you it's not an order.

They keep sweeping these buildings. I'm still waiting to see if they sweep regular apartments.

If I don't let these "people" stay crazy and eat all our time. I can't find the documents they forget.

Judas is who the police think they are.

Whiz Khalifa was trying to make this clear that there's no circumstance where a land lord can enter my room.

I already met Mark Horvath from invisible people. They were so blind at the other property they are starting to think I was watching someone who thought they were you.

[a-froger-epic]

Interview with a Queen “groupie”

Cross-posted to AO3. I encourage you to leave any comments you have there.

---

I compiled this interview following a long email exchange with J, a very sweet lady who went to Ealing Art School between 1972 and 1974. She knew all four members of Queen personally and was part of their larger circle of friends.

First off, you may find this hard to believe. I don’t blame you. But I assure you I’m not pulling your leg. As well as the pictures I share in this post, I have seen current pictures of J (which I will not share to protect her privacy). There is no indication as far as I am aware that she isn’t who she says she is.

Nastally, hold up. How exactly did you find this lady?

She found me. It turns out that she has been following my story Dawn of Aquarius for quite some time. The story is set in 1969. A lot of research about the era went into it, because I wanted to portray that time period - and Freddie’s and Roger’s surroundings - as accurately and realistically as I possibly could. That was what drew J in. She tells me it brought back a lot of memories for her. One of the reasons I love DoA so much is the nostalgia, she says, which genuinely means the world to me. Eventually, she talked to me in the comment section. Of course, I freaked out!

And then, I asked her for an interview, to which she replied: I will give it a go, but you must remember that I am 65 and there were great drugs in the 70s, and at 16, away from home, I had a lot!

And so...

Here’s what is IMPORTANT TO KEEP IN MIND when you read this interview.

These are one woman’s 50-year-old memories and subjective impressions. J has been incredibly kind to let me pick her brain, trying to recall everything as best as she can. In her own words:

Just remember that when I answer the questions, it is from a 16-year-old who is 9 years younger than Freddie and a little girl with no family and friends in a strange country trying to fit in. The only reason I was there, was because some hippie thought I had a unique art style.

---

J as a teenager.

[I have edited the interview together from our long, and somewhat messy at times, email exchange. Typos have been fixed and some punctuation added for clarity, but I have not changed anything J has written to me. Again, bear in mind these are personal opinions and impressions.]

So, J, how did you end up at Ealing Art School in 1972 and what was it like?

This was the painting done for the Australian school-leaving certificate.

It placed first and gave me a scholarship. I could pick France, the USA or England. As a dual citizen of the UK, the choice was easy. The scholarship paid for board and fees, so had to be and sell whatever for spending money.

This picture is from the dorm. We all had a 10pm curfew and a very thick rule book that, I am proud to say, I broke every one of them, one by one. The rooms were on the 1st and 2nd floor. We were on the first floor, rooms one side and admin staff the other end. We had two bathrooms for 18 girls. One of them had two baths. The walls were your standard half wall, so it was a given that if you had a bath you run the risk of having a bucket of cold water dropped on you. Downstairs was the kitchen and lounge room.

I want to ask you a few things about life in London in the early 70s, to get a picture of what it was really like. For example, was there alcohol at the music gigs you went to?

If it was a school, church or community hall, no. If it was a pub, yes.

Did you and your friends drink as much then as young people tend to drink now when you all went out?

No, we didn't. I think it had a lot to do with money. We didn't have the disposable income, and it was unheard of to still be living at home with the parents after the age of 20.

Was weed and LSD as big and easily accessible as depictions of the 60s and 70s would have us believe?

The drugs! Got to have drugs. Pot (weed) was easy to grow, very cheap. Used to smoke it in bongs rather than joints, more bang for your buck. Trips [LSD] were cheap, I think. About 2 pounds and you were on the high for over 24 hours with no sleep. My drug of choice was hash. Either the oil or the block. It was a nice high, but you could not function well. But if you listen to the music of the time it really does reflect what it was like, to have a group of friends over for a session. Having said all that the most outlandish and shocking drug I ever saw anyone use was the birth control pill. Didn't you have to hide that stuff away?!

Can you tell us some 70s slang that isn’t really in use anymore? What in the world does “ultra-blagging” mean? (As written in a letter penned by Freddie to his friend Celine in 1969.)

Abso-bloody-lootely!

Man, I thought I was the bees knees to be on a scholarship in London. But that didn't stop me from jigging or having a skive day. They were the days that I blagged my way into a pub, had too many lagers and ended up chundering in the gutter. That was how you knew your night was ace. I would get a right bollocking if anyone found out. It would be a bugger when all that you could find at a car boot sale was chavtastic, but sometimes you could be Jammy Dodger and tickety-boo you find something brilliant. Bob's your uncle. Anyways, I need to see a man about a dog.

[It seems to me that J uses a bit of Australian slang here, like chundering, which makes sense because she is, after all, Australian. She also provided the translation:]

Cheers

J

It would be my honour.

I felt very privileged to be given a scholarship that let me study in England. But being so young and having no family to guide me, it was often tempting to not turn up or give a false excuse for being sick. (I had a lot of food poisoning). These would often happen if the night before I had been drinking beer and ended up vomiting outside the pub. But in my young mind that was a good night. If any of the teachers found me drinking I would be in a lot of trouble. Often I would have to say I was holding it for someone else. Not having much clothes with me, I would buy them second hand from church jumble sales or other students and, yes, Kensington market (the market). Some of the stuff would not be very tasteful or in good condition. But sometimes you would find something that was cheap and in good condition. I will stop this text now as I must go to the toilet.

PS: Ultrablagging sounds very Freddie. Blagging was used, but not ultra, meaning to persuade someone to do something or act better than you are. They were always rock stars.

Sincerely

J

[It was at this point that I realised I was talking to an absolute legend. She also told me then that the majority of her old photographs had sadly been lost when her house was flooded in 1988, including most of the photographs from her stay in London. Noooo! :(]

When you went out to dance, did you have only live music? Were there DJs yet?

You know, that is hard. We did not have a DJ. Sometimes there would be a band. Often we looked for places with a band or the jukebox. I think pubs closed at 10pm and some stayed open to 12 or 1, but public transport stopped at 9. So if you had not arranged a lift then you had to make the last bus. Most of the time we would be heading back to someone's place to get stoned and then crash there. In the morning you would have to work out where you were. When I got back to Australia, the discos were all the rage. They could have been in London too but it was not cool to like disco.

How many people would show up to Queen’s gigs when they played in pubs or at, for example, the Imperial College?

Depending on the location and the night: 10 to 1000!

So how did you first meet the Queen boys?

I was at the pub talking about a band we saw last week when Brian stuck his head into our booth telling us he knew a better one. Thinking about seeing them at the stall... Roger not often, Freddie quite a lot. Often on different stalls, I think that is why I can't remember the name. [The name of the stall. Other sources confirm that Freddie also worked at Alan Muir’s stall, for example, selling shoes.]

How well did you know them?

Just looking at your tumblr account. [she has had a look at my blog, where somebody asked if ‘groupie’ meant she had slept with the band] No, I never slept with the boys. I would not say I was a close friend, but I started at Ealing Art College in ‘72 and moved in the same circles. I loved the music and could be called one of the first groupies. I had to sneak into the pubs because I was 16. Roger always teased me for being so young. They all did seem to be one very large family, not just the band. It was a group of about twenty regulars, both male and female. Everyone knew that Fred was too gay to function. We were all at the gay rights march in London in 1972, had to run after the march. Lots of sharpies [Australian slang: youth gang, thugs] wanting to bash us. Back then I was in every protest that was going, student union rights, even the secretary protest. Just part of the times, stick it to Man or Woman. I left London in ‘74 for Australia, been here ever since and lost track of the boys but have never stopped being a fan.

What do you remember about them? How would you describe their personalities?

Don’t let the trolls hate me, but I did not like Brian. I found him to be rather full of himself. Space was a subject you never brought up around Brian or you would die of old age before he stopped talking. He was always the first to speak and start a conversation and then quickly passed you off to John, who was always tired and shy. Roger was also quite shy at times. He was very self-conscious of his looks, as he felt being pretty, nobody would take him seriously. Fred, well, he was not yet the big star, so I think he was working on his stage persona. When talking to groups at parties, he had the best stories of things that had happened to him or close friends. They were very funny and very descriptive. He was the life of the party. When he had a few to drink or was the centre of attention, he would take a cigarette out of the closest person’s hand and start smoking. Now remember this is the point of view of a 16-year-old girl that was a fish out of water, trying to fit in and not having much worldly experience.

It is said that Freddie and Roger were very stylish. How did they dress in everyday life?

Fred would do his hair and makeup to check the mail. Yes, he was always turned out, but so were a lot of people. Freddie did go over the top with hats, scarfs and jewellery. With Roger, it is a surprise he was able to have kids his jeans were that tight. And his shirts were always open unless he was in a jumper. I think it could have been so that you knew he was male, as it was the start of the unisex clothing. When I travelled out of London I realised it was a London thing. When I got back to Australia everyone thought I was a show-off.

There are some disagreements about how tall especially Freddie was. I know this is a difficult thing to try and remember accurately. But do you remember?

Freddie was taller than me but everyone was. Roger was shorter than Fred, but I never saw Roger in platform shoes. I did meet up with the band by chance at Sydney airport in 1984, said ‘hello’ but they did not remember me, or if they did then they did not say anything and I did not want to be a dork. At that time Fred was the same height as me (5ft 8in/1.72m), Roger was taller than me. It made me think at the time that he had a growth spurt! John was shorter than me and Brian has always been tall. [I have a feeling the platform shoes - or lack thereof - played a vital role here! Although 172cm for Freddie seems likely.]

You said everyone knew Freddie was “too gay to function”. Attitudes towards homosexuality have changed so much that it can be hard for us, now, to fathom what exactly people must have thought of him. Was it more of a joke that he was so camp? Was it something he would have been teased for? Also, he had a girlfriend. Did you ever meet Mary or the other girlfriends?

In 1972 a whole group of us - and I am pretty sure that Fred, Roger, Brian and Tim were there - were in a gay pride march. [Since then, J has found and showed me a picture of a boy she thought was Tim Staffel, and it wasn't, so Tim was most definitely not there. Whether Freddie, Roger and Brian really were there or if J is misremembering, who knows?] Us youth believed you could not choose who you fell in love with and if it was same sex, so what? However, if it was two girls then it was every guy’s duty to change her!

It was also a time that the gayer the guy was, the more the girls were interested. Also, if a guy was gay then you did not have to worry about him and he was a good person to take with you if you were going out drinking. However, the police, parents, teachers and anyone of authority were horrified and treated them badly. I did meet Mary a couple of times at pubs and once after a gig. This is just my opinion, but I found her a bitch. It could be that I was so young. It could be that I was very Australian. It could be that she felt threatened as my accent was a magnet to people around. And the boys (Queen) were no exception. Brian had a cousin in OZ and was always asking questions. I remember that my close group of friends thought that Mary made the perfect girlfriend for Fred as they were as fake as each other. Having said that about them, I often wonder if I would think the same now and if my perceptions were just because she would not give me the time of Day. Chrissy and Jo were a lot of fun.

This was before your time, but I read that Freddie's nickname at Ealing Art School was ‘Freddie Baby’. Any ideas how this came about? His showmanship or maybe personality traits?

I don't think so. There were an older crowd that would talk like that. I think the slang ‘baby’ was a 60’s thing, like groovy baby.

How long, roughly, did Roger and Freddie have their stall? I can't find anywhere when it closed down. What did it actually look like? Was it a sort of wooden stall type of thing? Or an actual room? What were some of the other things people sold at Kensington Market? Mostly clothes or all sorts?

The markets were little divided shops. The back was brick and the walls wood. I have been trying all day to remember the name. [Of the stall.] I think it was something hard to say. More often than not it would be Freddie's dad in the store. It was still open when I left. Roger and Freddie were both in the store on Saturdays and some Sundays. There was a girl, I think Jill, who was in the store more. And during the week it could be anyone. You name it and you could get it at the markets. Second hand or designer clothes, shoes, jewellery, pot and assortments. Hair cuts, food, bric-a-brac.

Wait, wait. What? Freddie’s dad? Really now?

Yeah, it was an older Indian man. so we just assumed it was his father. It was my understanding that he started the stall then the boys would work it as the whole markets were set up for younger people, but if needed he would work there. I don't think the boys would be able to pay the rent on their own. [I have since found out that the stall closed in late 1971, and Freddie continued to work at the Market until '74, for Alan Mair and possibly others. So the stall J witnessed wasn't their original stall - explaining all the different people she saw there - but she had no way of knowing that it wasn't.] They always had incense burning that was very big in the 70s. I still occasionally bring out the sticks, but it does not last like the candles and diffusers of today. If you could get in touch with Robert Daniels, he ran ChaChaDumDum it was the stall across from Freddie. He would know the dates.

[J says it’s this look, in a picture she happened across while looking at my tumblr] Yep, that is the one. It usually means that he does not believe or agree with something that was said and is working out how to respond, or he has lost the plot.

You mentioned Roger seemed shy to you at times. Was he also quite charming? We read a lot about what a chick magnet he was. Was this the impression you had?

My favorite subject! I had a thing for Roger. Everyone has a type and mine is the blue-eyed blond. Now, before you ask, was he brunet? No, he was a mouse/dirty blond. If it was summer he would have blond streaks mostly at the ends. He knew he was pretty and was always dressed in the latest fashion and had the current hairstyle. So, being my type I was constantly watching him. Everyone slept around during that time. I did not notice Roger doing it more or less. 80% of the time he was with Jo. Yes, he was a chick magnet, but he did not do the chasing. He was always very polite to everyone. If it ever looked like there would be any conflict he would be the first to leave it. It was not that he was a coward, just not into conflict. If he saw anyone that needed help he was right there, and often had to have Freddie's back. I never saw him in a fight. He could always talk his way out of things. He was also very patient and would listen for hours to other people talk. However, he would get this vacant look in his eyes at times.

And Freddie would either click his fingers, change the subject or just give up. I don’t think that Brian noticed, and it would be fair game for John, he would see how far he could push it. Roger liked to drink a fair bit and when drunk he would be hanging all over Jo. If she was not there then he missed Jo. If, however, he thought that he or his friends were not being respected, then look out! It was a verbal volcano heading your way. That is what happened to me one time. I was trying to talk with my friends close to where a drunken Roger was and I yelled at him to shut the hell up, you wannabe blond. We/I coped a mouthful back, all in the same sentence, that finished with: Sorry, I didn't realise you were on your rags (period)! I have to have the last word, so I told him the truth: I don’t get them yet! (I was a late starter.) He went so red in the face and called me JB [jail bait] from then.

You also mentioned Roger’s cat Ziggy having kittens. I read about this but never when exactly it was. Do you remember?

I think it was winter ‘73. I remember being cold when he was asking around the pub. [To find homes for the kittens, I gather.]

Is it quite strange reading fictional interpretations of real people you knew? When did you first find out there was Queen fanfic?

No, we used to make up stories about people all the time, a verbal fanfic. Was looking up Adam Lambert and came across the fanfics. Some had me in stitches! Others, like DoA, had me hooked.

Please, allow me to be a little self-indulgent at the end. What's one thing I got totally RIGHT in DoA?

All the Ibex stuff.

What's one thing I got totally WRONG in DoA?

Roger did not have a temper, and I don’t know what the go with his father was, but he would talk about him quite a bit and was always visiting his mum. [Absolutely fair, not only did I change the timeline of Roger’s parents divorce in DoA - for lack of information at the time - but also created a completely fictional narrative around it for the sake of storytelling.]

J, thank you so much for all this, sincerely. Can you tell me a little more about yourself? Are you still an artist?

I don't paint or draw any more. At the age of a 50 the doctors operated on an aneurysm or three, and now my eyesight is very bad, I have no fine motor skills and a tremor. I was married in January 1984 and have just celebrated our 37 year anniversary. I have one daughter who is 30 and two great, although tiring grandkids. A girl, 11, and one boy, 5. I have lived my life as the average middle class Australian with great memories. Talking with you has helped me a lot to remember a time when the world was mine for the taking. When I returned to OZ I started nursing, met my best friend, and we planned that once we graduated we would go back to London to study midwifery. But I fell in love instead.

J's wedding in 1984. As you can see, she found her own blue-eyed blond.

---

Upon request, J has shared some of her past and present artwork with me.

These are from her time at Ealing Art School:

These were done later, back in Australia:

J: Did this just before Christmas as you had inspired me. It did not require fine motor skills!

So there you have it! I hope you found this little glimpse through a 16-year-old girl’s eyes as much of a fascinating read as I did. I urge everybody one more time to remember that J did not have to share any of this, and I think we all owe her a big thank you for delving into her memories. She is likely to see the responses on AO3, so I have comment moderation enabled there as I will not let anybody harass this lovely lady. The tumblr she created is @since72, but she isn’t really an active user and also very new to it all. Again, I can only urge everybody to be respectful.

If you have other burning question for J, feel free to leave them in the comments on AO3. I will either pass them on, or she may want to reply to them herself directly.

[doomsday-architect]

There's a pretty deep disconnect between us "regular" people and politicians across the country.

What's the disconnect?

Public safety.

When asked by media if folks feel unsafe where these media clowns are, guess who decides who gets to tell their story?

The media.

Now, who do politicians talk to to figure out what's going on outside the safety of their respective enclaves?

Their televisions and news feeds. Do they EVER venture into the hinterlands that are America WITHOUT a TV crew in tow?

NEVER!

If, and it's a very big if, they hear rumblings about their constituents discomfort with their safety, what do they do?

Pass another "public safety" bill on one hand while caving to the pressure of defending the police. They pass ANOTHER gun control bill which has NEVER reduced crime, but they preen and smile before the cameras and pat each other on the back while statistics show crime increases across the board.

Add to it, abortion, immigration, Ukraine, China, inflation, they can't wait to run home, curl into a fetal position and cry themselves to sleep.

It's all a show and we citizens are dying every day over their incompetence.

How many innocent lives died in YOUR CITY today?

I rest my case.

[babaleshy]

Something I May Need to Stop Doing...

I'll be venting in this post, but this is about the desire to move out of a desperate want for change right now even though such a move is not meant to be.

On occasion, I go onto zillow's website and check out houses around Pittsburgh out of curiosity just to see what houses are going for what price in what kind of condition. I've noticed something incredibly enticing: there are some houses going for under $100,000 and are technically livable. It's just got flaking/chipping paint, may need new rugs, and other general clean-ups. The only "major" thing I wanna do to any of these houses falling under this criteria is the fact that I feel more comfortable with a tin roof.

These houses that I find are within city limits, most of these houses I've shown an interest in are close to sidewalks. This means if I were to move into one of these houses, then I'd have a chance to properly commute!

Ah, but why exactly am I making this post? What is it that I'm venting about? And what did I mean earlier when I said "not meant to be?"

Back in 2014 (autumn, specifically), my husband and I had to move out of our apartment in downtown Pittsburgh to my parents' farm in Ohio. Two reasons made us do this: one was the skyrocketing rent prices when HUD sold our building, causing rent to go from $539/mo to $720/mo. My husband worked at a casino, and was making $10/hr, so when rent prices went up like mad, we really began to struggle to survive. The other thing was bedbugs. The building manager laughed at our discomfort and said, "What do you expect me to do about it? Where would everyone go for the building to be treated?" Like, you're a shit manager if you haven't come up with those contingency plans.

Paying $720/mo for a bedbug-infested apartment (bedbugs are fucking hard to get rid of) and living in a constant state of itchy breakout made us decide it was time to move in with my parents. Because we literally could not afford to live anywhere else, and our student loan debt fucked up our credit scores, so we couldn't even get a house (and we were looking for one at the time!).

We used to think living on this farm was temporary until reality set in, that there is absolutely no possible way for us to make it on our own now. My husband has ADHD and anxiety and is still struggling to practice to get his driver's license (it's hard when my dad is a major source of my husband's stress; my dad's an asshole and gets worse by the year), and I'm Autistic, so I can't hold down a regular job, and nothing else is hiring.

In terms of getting a job for me at all, either I'd have to go to school for my special interest for the job (ecology, entomology, and/or paleontology) or I'd rather work in a library.

Welp, college is far too expensive for me to pay out of pocket, and my already existing student loan debt is barring me from getting any sort of financial aid to go back to school at all. As far as the library is concerned? Remember when I said my husband is currently struggling to practice for his license? (He doesn't get much practice because my dad is a stressful asshole that makes my husband have a horrible headache and anxiety after he drives). We have 2 vehicles, one my mom uses to get to work, and the other my dad uses to take my husband to work as well as do errands in like grocery shopping and shit like that.

I can't get a ride.

Can't ride a bicycle, either. It's definitely not safe (I live in America, if you couldn't tell). My parents' farm is deep within one of the back roads with one of the properties on this road being an oil rig. The oil workers drive like assholes, not caring what animal they hit, speeding through here. There are dirtbikes and four-wheelers that speed through here, too. There's no room for 2 vehicles to pass one another, and nothing but pure fucking hill the moment you step off the side of the road. I literally cannot bike here.

But let's pretend I got onto one of the main roads on either end of our road. It's even worse! And STILL no room for bicyclists! This goes for fucking miles until you reach a residential area! Except for a nearby little village-town that has the closest library branch. It's the village my husband grew up in, but there's a lot of sketchy turns, corners, and again, no room for bicycles. This includes main roads.

With all this in mind, I actually considered the possibility of moving to that village, because the village itself is actually safe enough to bike ride in. The problem is: I'm not guaranteed to get a job at the library at all. I tried getting a job as a library clerk at the Carnegie Library in Pittsburgh, got interviewed and everything, and didn't get the job for whatever reason. In fact, I'm not guaranteed a job at all at any library branch, regardless of the neighborhood. So moving to such an area depending on the chance of being hired there is not worth it.

Such a village is actually rather unfriendly, and that goes for a lot of communities here on this side of Ohio. You'd think this was one of the southern states from its people and what flags they fly.

So why not Pittsburgh? Why not move there if we could?

Well, I thought about it. It has all the perks I could expect such as public transportation, somewhat safer bicycling areas to commute to school and work, and more importantly: THINGS TO DO.

Living in the middle of nowhere blows when you want to, on your own without relying on someone to drive you, go and do something, such as buying fabric or art supplies for future projects, or going to the library, or anything, really! Yeah, I do want to garden, but I don't have the means to do that on a damn farm (long, frustrating story that made me stop believing my parents' promises).

Not to mention, I still have friends in Pittsburgh, If I wanna see them, they don't have to drive an hour and 45 minutes (and that's if they have a car) to visit. I got 2 friends here in the area, and they're busy with their work's demanding schedules. When we do hang out, Cards Against Humanity, Uno, and D&D can only do so much until it gets old and boring and you wanna do something else that isn't hanging out at a dead mall. There is truly nothing to do here. Pittsburgh has the museums, libraries, parks, and far more interesting establishments to lurk in.

So again: why not Pittsburgh?

Because that city has changed and is still changing compared to when I was last there. My regular watering hole (The Beehive) is no more. There are neighborhoods being gentrified (meaning I'm not guaranteed to keep my home even if I pay it off). Businesses are closing, meaning people will be losing their jobs, and some of the other places hiring (like libraries) are not guaranteed to hire me, especially when I haven't had a job since 2010.

There's also my cat to consider; she gets stressed at the sound of a lawn-mower (I don't blame her). She wouldn't be able to handle the sounds of the city. Unless we found a place not too close to downtown, such a move is a no-go.

I've daydreamed about living in Pittsburgh again. I'm homesick for Pittsburgh. I've realized only recently that that city was my home. Not this farm, not even the house I grew up in. I felt like a person who didn't have to rely on people for rides and such. It's the only place where I've truly lived on my own and enjoyed it.

I've actually considered moving out of this country and found that even more impossible. No matter which country you pick, no matter what language you learn, not only do you have to pay for your things to be shipped, for your plane ticket for a one-way trip, or whatever you need to become a citizen there, you still have to pay at least $2,000 to revoke your American citizenship or else you will be forced to pay American taxes despite never setting foot on American soil ever again.

Thanks to capitalism, America has made it fucking impossible for the average person to leave for good. If you are born here, you are financially enslaved here unless you're wealthy enough to leave.

So... What's the plan?

Well, for now: not much. The pandemic has set plans back a bit, but my parents have a lien on the house thanks to my private student loans my mom was bullied and forced into co-signing for. She... I guess?... is almost done paying them off? I don't know. My parents don't like communicating need-to-know info with me and then get mad when I don't absorb it through osmosis. Once the lien is taken off the house, mom wants to move north to be near her sister, and she said she'll try finding a farm for sale near Kent State so it'll be an easier commute (be it by bicycle or by car). My intention is to enroll there to be able to get a job as an ecologist (focus in entomology, specializing in arachnology) with a minor in paleontology.

Once I've gotten that all taken care of (as well as my husband going back to school for what he wants), we move to the pacific northwest, mainly just north of Seattle somewhere.

I hate Ohio. I hate running into people I've gone to school with that I try to avoid (more like I see them, but they don't recognize me? At least I hope not?). I hate this place so much. I hate this climate, being near people I don't want just randomly showing the fuck up. And what's the use of living near family when they don't want to bother visiting you? I hate hearing my mom tell me so-and-so that I obviously want nothing to do with told her to tell me they said hi. I'm tired of fearing I'll run into someone that abused me in the past because now they're back in the fucking area again apparently.

I've got my fingers crossed that something is gonna give and college to some level (community college?) will be free for residents or something. It'll give me a chance to go back to school for something close to what I wanna do so I can maybe get a job? Completing something at a community college would at least make it easier for me to get enrolled at a university.

My husband and I picked Seattle (or close to Seattle) for its climate. It's (usually) not blistering hot every goddamn year, and it's not horribly cold thanks to the mountain range (I'm quite cold-intolerant). We both enjoy overcast weather and rain. We'd rather take our chances with volcanoes than earthquakes or hurricanes in areas where these things are guaranteed to happen yet nobody ruling these areas wants to invest in infrastructure that helps stand a chance against them. Seattle also has a nice combination of city and wilderness side-by-side. Not much of that with Pittsburgh.

If I was forced to only move to Pittsburgh and no other city, I wouldn't mind, especially since I'm more familiar with Pittsburgh than I am with anything in my current local area (because I had to travel on foot instead of relying on a car to get to places!). Fuck, my mom wouldn't even let me do anything by myself out of the yard when we lived in the village I grew up in because she was a paranoid fuck and by the time I JUST STARTED gaining independence for having a bike and bicycling to the post office everyday, we moved to this farm.

Oh, this isn't a roof over my head I should be thankful for. My parents got screwed. Our water is full of iron and calcium that no filter can fix, so we constantly have plumbing problems, the post and internet connections are questionable at best, we get ant infestations from 2 species EVERY YEAR, all for a farm my mom wanted for horses she always wanted and eventually got but has little next to no energy to spend the time she wants with them and she refuses to admit her age has a lot to do with it on top of her working so she sits in the living room on THREE DIFFERENT DEVICES sucking up bandwidth to religiously watch every fucking livestream of a country singer she likes (and complains if she's missing it for any reason!), scroll through Facebook, and play a fucking shitty app game!

Our internet out here? The physical equipment is outdated (copper wires instead of fiber-optic cables) because the fucking company doesn't wanna spend the money to upgrade it.

So instead, we're stuck here, with my husband losing his sanity bit by bit by the day at his shitty retail job (every other available job offering would be worse in this area) and I sit here and hope that maybe, JUST MAYBE, I could start gardening soon.

I miss Pittsburgh. I really do. But despite all of its benefits it would give me and my husband if we moved back, I don't think it will happen.

In the off-chance that we don't move north, that my dad's assholery intensifies and he decides to remain here (he has to legally agree to sell this house in order for my mom to move north; dad's reasons keep fucking changing), Pittsburgh is a nice back-up plan. Pitt University actually has the major I'd want to go back to school for, as well as what my husband wants to go back to school for, and we'd already be familiar with the city and what to expect of it. However, we're aiming higher, and hoping to move to the pacific northwest, instead.

But I think to avoid losing my sanity, I should stop daydreaming about a future that may never be.

Fingers crossed!