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in-the-red-notebook · 8 months ago

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"Ray's a Laugh" - Richard Billingham

What should a photo book be? A container for work? A physical reproduction of a bunch successful images? Or a work unto itself, in the tradition of the artist’s book, where book is the final formal goal ? To me, Ray’s a Laugh offers a high-water-mark affirmation of the latter. The body of work in this book is greater than any one image, the edit and sequence is brilliant, and the book speaks and lives for itself in an astounding way, a self-contained parable in its own humble world.

The work in this book was made in Billingham’s parents’ apartment in a small town in England, and centers on his father’s shut-in alcoholic lifestyle and his relationship with Billingham’s doting, caring mother. It’s a complex portrait of the whole family, posing playfully as a document but in reality functioning much more as impressionistic drama.

This work joins the likes of Larry Clark’s "Tulsa" and Nan Goldin’s “Ballad of Sexual Dependency” in the discussion of ethical/exploitative photography—is it right for Billingham to publish work that shows his family in extremely personal, vulnerable, and sometimes graphic situations? Is it right for him to characterize them as he does—deeply flawed, but charming and loving? Is it exploitative to aestheticize their poverty? These questions are complicated, but I think that given the personal nature of the work—Billingham’s own family being the subject—it’s hard for me to really condone or criticize the work either way. I don’t think of this book as benevolent or as evil, but as existing in the gray area of exchanging the privacy of loved ones for artistic honesty. I truly hope that this exchange was made in good faith.

As to the aesthetization, if we give Billingham the benefit of the doubt about the work being “authentic” (even if it’s such a flimsy adjective), it can be argued that the real, cynical commercial exploitation of poverty and addiction aesthetics is done downstream, when work like this starts popping up on moodboards for advertising and editorial photography, in commercial contexts, etc. On this topic, there’s a really fascinating publication called “Opioid Crisis Lookbook” that interrogates the culture of addiction and recovery from within the current North American opioid crisis, and I think it’s really good reading for anyone interested in this discussion. PDF here: https://theopioidcrisislookbook.com/issue-1/

Aside from the moral quandaries, I don’t mean to be grandiose when I say that to me, this book is a testament to the power of photography; a reminder to pick up the camera and observe, because something photographed is so different from something remembered. The work rides a fine line between earnestness and what could be considered callousness: gritty, dynamic photographs ostensibly about the reality of an alcoholic family member that are somehow stubbornly light-hearted and whimsical. Billingham engages in something like anti-humanist humanism, breaking up somber, revealing portraits with funny, detached snapshots of almost baroque scenes unfolding in the apartment day to day. This complexity makes me think about a consistent, obsessive photography practice, close observation of the intangible, and the simple, revealing power of a photograph.

In Ray’s a Laugh, Billingham is able to approach and re-approach the same people, the same spaces, and the same ideas, over and over, over the course of several months. The result is this magical, complex book that really satisfyingly blurs the lines of truth and fiction, and tragedy and comedy. What I think most draws me to this book is Billingham’s extremely present voice. He seems to function half as a family photographer and half as a photojournalist, moving jarringly back and forth between tenderness and a distant ambivalence. This is what endures for me, the ever-looming fiction of the work, which seems to almost allow the pictures to be more truthful and honest, at least about Billingham’s feelings. I think he offers us a way to see his family in the way that he does, focusing on silver lining and humble moments of joy while acknowledging pain and imperfection. This, to me, is the “magic of photography” Billingham reveals: the camera’s capacity, after a long while, to show who is behind the lens almost as clearly as who is in front of it.

I’ve come to the conclusion (sadly a bit late in the year) that what I would like to do is find some kind of concrete subject or container within which to make a project. I picture this as a body of work about a group of people, or a specific place, or maybe a subculture. I think I’ve had a tendency in the last few years of photographing to kind of reject the idea of any concrete focus, instead approaching my practice as “carry a camera everywhere, and let photographs come to me.” I’m reaching a point now where I’m frustrated with my “pile,” hundreds of one-off photographs tied together maybe only by my own experiences. When I first started photographing, Wolfgang Tillmans and Daniel Arnold were front and center in my mind. Their work, at least as I’d seen it presented, was less about concrete things and more about espousing a “way of seeing” (hence the MoMA show name “To Look Without Fear”). And while I think finding a primal, almost subconscious visual language is invaluable to a photographer (being able to look at a photo and regardless of subject having a feeling that this is ”a Noor photo”), my thinking on it as a conceptual framework has shifted. I think I was originally aiming for a body of work that was chaotic, all over the place, and vastly dynamic in subject matter. I now find this kind of framework to be a crutch for an under-edited project. In terms of Arnold, and in terms of books, I much, much prefer Matt Leifheit and Eve Lyon’s edit of Arnold’s work to that of his monograph, Pickpocket, because the former edit is tighter, more vulnerable, and “says” so much more than the latter collection of already-instagram-famous street photographs. I’m now much more interested in honing in on something, both through re-editing my old pile (over and over) and through changing what I’m photographing, so that I have some specific guiding light.

For final critique this year, I want to focus on an edit that is more intentional and revelatory, and most importantly, more vulnerable. What photographs have I been omitting that have more of myself in them? What can I do to narrow the perspective and get at something deeper? Thinking forward to this summer, I have set the goal to find some kind of “container” for what I shoot. I haven’t yet decided on one, but I’m thinking of things along the lines of “5th avenue, between 14th and 42nd,” or “Little League Baseball in Prospect Park.” Something I can go back to, week after week, something I can slow down and observe. I’m also including in this goal the qualification that I may break out of the container as I see fit. Through this container, I hope to apply my photographic intuition --which until now has been the whole story--to a more self-contained world.

PS. Mack recently reprinted Ray’s a Laugh with a new, expanded edit in a larger size than the original. It kind of feels like a deluxe edition album; I like the new plates that were added but only because I liked the original work so much. I feel like the expanded edit and coffee-table size (which kind of gives it what I call the “Phaidon vibe” :/) detract from the magic of the original’s concise edit and humbler physical size.

-Noor

#noor

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tinyshe · 4 years ago

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This is dedicated to all you Americans that are whining about “living in a communist country” and what a dictator Trump was; I offer the following for you to think about.

I Grew Up in a Communist System. Here’s What Americans Don’t Understand About Freedom Only in a free-market system can we truly achieve individual liberty and human flourishing.

“Individual freedom can only exist in the context of free-market capitalism. Personal freedom thrives in capitalism, declines in government-regulated economies, and vanishes in communism. Aside from better economic and legislative policies, what America needs is a more intense appreciation for individual freedom and capitalism.

“I was born and raised in communist Romania during the Cold War, a country in which the government owned all the resources and means of production. The state controlled almost every aspect of our lives: our education, our job placement, the time of day we could have hot water, and what we were allowed to say.

“Like the rest of the Eastern European countries, Romania was often referred to as a communist country. In school, we were taught it was a socialist country. Its name prior to the 1989 Revolution to overthrow the Ceausescu regime was the Socialist Republic of Romania.

“From an economic standpoint, a petty fraction of property was still privately owned. In a communist system, all property is owned by the state. So if it wasn't a true communist economy, its heavy central planning and the application of a totalitarian control over the Romanian citizenry made this nation rightfully gain its title of a communist country.

Socialism Creates Shortages

“Despite the fact that Romania was a country rich in resources, there were shortages everywhere. Food, electricity, water, and just about every one of life's necessities were in short supply. The apartment building in which we lived provided hot water for showers two hours in the morning and two hours at night. We had to be quick and on time so we didn't miss the opportunity.

“I get it, maybe we didn't need to be fashionable. But we needed to eat.

“Wrigley's chewing gum and Swiss chocolate were a rare delight for us. I remember how happy I was when I'd have a pack of foreign bubblegum or a bar of delicious milk chocolate. I'd usually save them for special occasions.

“Fruity lip gloss, French perfume, and jeans were but a few of the popular items available only on the black market and with the right connections. God bless our black-market entrepreneurs! They made our lives better. They gave us the opportunity to buy things we very much desired, things we couldn't get from the government-owned retail stores which were either half-empty or full of products that were ugly and of poor quality.

“The grocery stores were not any better. I get it, maybe we didn't need to be fashionable. But we needed to eat. So, the old Romanian adage "Conscience goes through the stomach" made a lot of sense.

“During the late 1970s, life in Romania started to deteriorate even more. Meat was hardly a consumer staple for the average Romanian. Instead, our parents learned to become good at preparing the liver, the brain, the tongue, and other giblets that most people in the West would not even consider trying.

“For a family of four like us, our rationed quota was 1 kilogram of flour and 1 kilogram of sugar per month.

“When milk, butter, eggs, and yogurt were temporarily available, my mom��like so many others of our neighbors—would wake up at 2:00 a.m. to go stand in line so she'd have the chance to get us these goodies. The store would open at 6:00 a.m., so if she wasn't early enough in line she'd miss the opportunity.

“In 1982, the state sent their disciples to people's homes to do the census. Along with that, food rationing was implemented. For a family of four like us, our rationed quota was 1 kilogram of flour and 1 kilogram of sugar per month. That is, if they were available and if we were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time when they were being distributed.

“The one television channel our government provided for us often focused on programs related to crime and poverty in the western world. After all, people were poor and suffering because of capitalism, so we were told, so we needed socialism and communism to solve the inequalities of humanity.

Capitalism Advances Private Property

“Considering the shortages created by the government-controlled economy of my birth country, I came to understand and appreciate capitalism, the one system that had the most dramatic effect in elevating human civilization.

“Private property and private property rights are at the core of capitalism.

“The layman definition of capitalism is the economic system in which people and businesses engage in manufacturing, trading, and exchanging products and services without government interference. A free-market capitalist system works in a more efficient manner when not tampered with by government or central bank intervention in the credit markets, monetary policy, and interest rate fixing.

“Private property and private property rights are at the core of capitalism. When in school, we learned that private property makes people greedy and is considered detrimental to society. Private property was associated with capitalism, the system that our textbooks claimed failed.

Allocation of Resources

“Romania was rich in natural resources, yet the difference between our standard of living and those from the West was quite dramatic. It was indicative of a flawed economic system that most countries in Eastern Europe adhered to during the Soviet Era. But one may ask why was there so much poverty when natural resources are so abundant?

“The free market, however, directs the allocation of resources via the amazing process of supply and demand.

Economics is the study of the allocation of scarce resources which have alternative uses. Efficiency is thus of primary concern when the goal is economic progress.

“In a centrally-planned environment, the various government individuals who are assigned the task of planning the economy could not possibly know how to properly allocate the scarce resources of an entire nation, no matter how smart or educated they are. Shortages are one of the consequences of improper allocation of the scarce resources.

“The free market, however, through the multiple spontaneous interactions of businesses and consumers, directs the allocation of resources via the amazing process of supply and demand. It is precisely due to the profit and loss events that economic efficiency is stimulated.

Free Markets Attract Capital

“Due to its profit incentives, capitalism encourages innovation. Innovation leads to progress and an increase in the standard of living. But progress and the climate which offers humans a high standard of living cannot be created without the capital to transform and turn resources into the final products that give us the—relatively—cheap energy and food, smartphones, fitness gyms, and overall the life we currently afford. Capital moves in the direction of less regulation, less government intervention, and less taxation. In short, capital moves to where there's more economic freedom.

“Capital is chased away due to the high risk associated with governments who engage in high levels of controlling their economies.

“In contrast, communism, socialism, fascism, or just about any government-controlled system lacks the profit incentive. The people, who are the human resources, have no desire to engage in a business where the reward is not attainable (unless it's done in the black markets). They accept the state and its bureaucratic cronies to dictate their faith.

“Capital is chased away due to the high risk associated with governments who engage in high levels of controlling their economies and, often, corruption. The overall standard of living is dramatically lower than in most capitalist places, and the poverty is higher. Consequently, the collectivist country falls into an economic and social trap from which it is hard to escape. Only capitalism can save a nation from the failure of its central economic planning.

Capitalism Helps Us Be Better Individuals

“Similar to the old Soviet lifestyle, let's remember what the typical Venezuelan family of our times worries about on a daily basis. Food to put on the table and the safety of their children. They wake up in the morning wondering how many meals they can afford that day, where to get them from, and how to pay for them.

“Capitalism makes it possible for us to challenge ourselves, to have goals, and to put forth the sweat in order to achieve them.

“We, the lucky ones to live in a relatively free-market system, don't have these kinds of worries. We go to work, get leisure time to be on Facebook, watch TV, be with our families, read books, and enjoy a hobby or two. In short, we have the personal freedom to engage in and enjoy a variety of life events because of capitalism.

“But there's another important motive to desire to live in a capitalist society. We are free to create and come up with all kinds of business ideas, no matter how crazy some might be. Because we don't have to worry about tomorrow, we have—or make—the time to read, explore, and innovate.

“Capitalism makes it possible for us to challenge ourselves, to have goals, and to put forth the sweat to achieve them. It gives us the freedom to try new things and explore new opportunities. It gives us the chance to create more opportunities. It helps us build strong character because when we try, we also fail, and without failure, how do we know we've made mistakes? Without failure, how do we know we must make changes?

Individual Freedom Can Only Exist in the Context of Free Markets

“Before immigrating to the U.S., I had to go through a rigorous process. One of the events was the immigration interview with the American counselor who, among many other questions, asked why I escaped Romania and why I wanted to come to America. My short answer was freedom. Then he posed the interesting question: "If America was to go through a period of economic devastation with shortages similar to Romania, would you still feel the same way?" I didn't think too much about it, and I said, "Yes, of course, as long as I have freedom."

“Capitalism is the path to the individual rights and liberty that build the solid foundation of a free society.

“In retrospect, that was a dumb answer on my part. After several decades, I came to believe that the human condition of individual freedom can only exist in the context of free markets. Shortages are created by the intrusion of the state into the complex activity of the markets, whether it's price controls or poor allocation of resources.

“When shortages are powerful and long enough to dramatically affect lives, people resort to revolt. Large revolts call for serious governmental actions including, but not limited to, eroding or completely eliminating individual rights (the right to free speech and to bear arms), the institution of a police state, and the enacting of a powerful state propaganda system. Capitalism is the path to the individual rights and liberty that build the solid foundation of a free society.

Is America a True Capitalist Economy?

“The short answer is no. Most of the world refers to the American system as being a capitalist one. Based on my short definition of capitalism, it is obvious that it is not quite a pure one, and I wish to clarify that the U.S. is not a truly free-market capitalist system.

“We still maintain stronger capitalist traits than most, however a few other nations who lead the way in economic freedom have surpassed us.

“The economic policy of the 19th Century with limited regulations and minimal taxation attracted the needed capital to our country. The Industrial Revolution made spectacular advancements in human conditions due to the capital concentrated in the region. America lost its number one place due to legislating higher regulations, taxation, and protectionist policies.

“But we are still enjoying some of the fruits today. Compared to many countries in the world, we still maintain stronger capitalist traits than most, however Hong Kong, Singapore, Switzerland, New Zealand, and a few other nations who lead the way in economic freedom have surpassed us (see the latest statistics).

What America Needs

[besides a swift kick up the arse, my note]

“It starts in our own backyard, in our home, in our small group, in our community.

“Aside from better economic and legislative policies, what America needs is a more intense appreciation of individual freedom and capitalism. Such a crazy idea is not acquired through public schools or becoming a public servant. Young people don't need more years of schooling with more worthless college degrees and student loans in default. America needs more entrepreneurs and businessmen. It needs more people with drive and ambition, more self-starters, more innovators, more people who are willing to take chances.

“It starts in our own backyard, in our home, in our small group, in our community. It starts with loving, involved, and dedicated parents who'd instill the values of personal responsibility and delayed gratification in their children. It continues with an education that entails both theory and hands-on practice in environments conducive to learning how to think independently and how to acquire life- and work-skills. It evolves into a purpose-driven life rich in learning and experiences. And this may be just the beginning of attaining the intellectual maturity to perceive the value that free markets and individual freedom afford most of us.”

#socialism #communism #communist #evils of communism #wake up america or your stupid citizens will drag you into this hell called communism

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thebluelemontree · 4 years ago

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Is it wrong to say that Sansa uses an out of sight out of mind coping mechanism? I noticed it because it's what I do a lot. I know some ppl say she rewrites traumatic memories to make the memories bearable but it doesn't make sense. If that was how she coped, wouldn't she have been telling herself lies about Joffrey still in acok? Or found a way to erase/rewrite Marillion's attempt to rape her?

Yes and no. She does that except all the times she doesn’t. ;) I think that characterization is extremely reductionist (and ignores character complexity and growth) when it’s applied that broadly to every situation Sansa has been in. You have to take these things instance by instance because they aren’t all the same. Sometimes that labeling doesn’t fit at all. In many cases, it feels more like the fandom pathologizing the act of romanticizing or trying to push aside or reframe something unpleasant or even traumatic when that’s just something most human beings do now and then. Some do it more than others, but its all within the realm of typical coping behavior and being older or more educated or more “logical” doesn’t make one immune to it. So I hope you don’t let those interpretations make you feel abnormal or more fallible for identifying with Sansa in that way. Romanticizing doesn’t even have to be about coping at all, but simply expressing desire through daydreams. People imagine being in idealized scenarios with crushes all the time.

You also hit the nail on the head. Sansa just doesn’t go around making up false narratives about every objectively awful thing that happens to her. In fact, her actual responses to those moments can be a useful basis for comparison when we’re analyzing the unkiss, for example. Misunderstanding the unkiss is usually where a lot of these assumptions stem from. That’s a whole other can of worms in itself. The unkiss is just too long of a discussion to put here, so I just recommend this post as to the reasons why it isn’t about trauma and take a browse through my unkiss tag. It does bear repeating that Sansa factually remembers every scary thing that happened during the Blackwater and why it happened, indicating she has processed it honestly and critically, before any incarnation of the unkiss happens. The unkiss is a mismemory added on to the facts, which began as her being the actor that kissed him first. It’s not a lie to deny the facts or to excuse his behavior. It’s regrettable to her that Sandor was not able to be the person she could rely on to get her out of KL at that time. Nonetheless, this repressed desire is just so strong in her that it manifested in a kiss so real she could remember how it felt after the reality of his leaving KL for good sank in.

Early AGOT Sansa tended to want to move past unpleasantness rather quickly. Just sweep those red flags under the rug so everything can go back to blissful harmony. Sansa is naturally averse to conflict and just wants her present with the royal family to be smooth sailing into a bright future. Ned had a very similar tendency when it came to concerns over Robert’s true character. He saw things that disturbed him, but he hoped and clung to his idea of Robert anyway. For Sansa, this resulted in some misplaced blame and rewriting events so she could deal with the aftermath. This is mostly seen in her processing the Mycah incident after Lady’s death and how her perception of all the characters involved shifted in varying ways. This is after she knew perfectly well what really happened, because Ned says Sansa had already told him the truth of what Joffrey did while Arya was still missing. However, it would also be unfair to completely chalk this up to Sansa’s idiosyncrasies. We have to put her flip-flopping in the context of the situation as well. She’s also experienced a gutting loss with Lady’s death and the fact that the first blow to her innocence was her father volunteering to put Lady down. She doesn’t have Catelyn to go to with her confusion and hurt, and Ned has largely been silent. She’s also still engaged to Joffrey through all this, this is still a patriarchy, there are political ramifications to speaking against a crown prince, and she doesn’t know how to deal with seeing such cruelty and vindictiveness in her future husband. Especially when he responded to her tender concern and wanting to help him with venom and hate.

I mean, jeez, she’s 11. I don’t expect an 11 year old to understand how to identify the signs of emotional manipulation or see how this situation can escalate into domestic violence. Just because Sansa can’t articulate what is happening within her relationship with Joffrey, doesn’t mean she has blocked out any notion that Joffrey can turn his anger on her. Part of the reason she misplaces blame on Arya (and rewrites what happened) is because Joffrey turns scornful of Sansa for being a witness to his emasculating shame. He punishes her with the cold shoulder because she didn’t immediately take his side and pretended not to see instead. He regains power through making Sansa feel small and fearful of his moods.

“He had not spoken a word to her since the awful thing had happened, and she had not dared to speak to him.” -- Sansa II, AGOT.

Sansa looked at him and trembled, afraid that he might ignore her or, worse, turn hateful again and send her weeping from the table. -- Sansa II, AGOT.

This is coming from someone who is supposed to love her and someone she will spend the rest of her life with. To fix things, she must be unequivocally on Joffrey’s side going forward or suffer the consequences, which we can see happening as her story completely flips over breakfast sometime later. This is not saying Sansa is fully exonerated from not supporting her sister when she needed her, but that it’s understandable how she arrived at this point. Even when things start to get really bad after Ned’s arrest, Sansa still holds out some hope that she can appeal to Joffrey’s (and Cersei’s) love for her to get him to be merciful. Is it really her fault she believed a part of Joffrey really loved her (and thus was reachable by her pleas) if he also heavily love bombed her and treated her like she was the most special girl in the world? Love bombing is a classic feature of the seduction phase leading up to abuse.

So we can see Sansa does ignore truths and rewrite events sometimes and her personality is a factor; however, the context surrounding it matters a lot. Post Ned’s execution, Sansa does a full 180 regarding Joffrey and Cersei.

Sansa stared at him, seeing him for the first time. He was wearing a padded crimson doublet patterned with lions and a cloth-of-gold cape with a high collar that framed his face. She wondered how she could ever have thought him handsome. His lips were as soft and red as the worms you found after a rain, and his eyes were vain and cruel. "I hate you," she whispered. -- Sansa VI, AGOT.

Once she had loved Prince Joffrey with all her heart, and admired and trusted his mother, the queen. They had repaid that love and trust with her father's head. Sansa would never make that mistake again. -- Sansa I, ACOK.

"A monster," she whispered, so tremulously she could scarcely hear her own voice. "Joffrey is a monster. He lied about the butcher's boy and made Father kill my wolf. When I displease him, he has the Kingsguard beat me. He's evil and cruel, my lady, it's so. And the queen as well." -- Sansa I, ASOS.

There’s also her conscious efforts to push away thoughts of her dead family and Jeyne Poole, but she states why she does that. It’s traumatic, the tears start flowing uncontrollably, and she is desperately trying to avoid falling into another suicidal depression. Her survival in KL depends on her holding it together and appearing loyal and obedient to Joffrey. Mourning her loved ones would imply to Joffrey she is plotting treason. Besides, she knows that even if she did ask Cersei or LF about Jeyne, she has no reason to believe they’d do anything but lie to her face in a patronizing way. There’s no point being plagued with wondering what the truth might be when she can’t do anything about it. Still, she prayed for Jeyne wherever she might be. She genuinely thought Arya had made it to WF on the ship and was safe at least until she got word of her brothers’ deaths and her home being sacked by the Iron Born, though there was initially a touch of projection and fantasizing about Arya being free while she remains captured. As of Feast, she believes she is the last Stark left alive and she has no one but Littlefinger to help her. So while she is suppressing her grief, it’s done with good reason, and it’s not being replaced with any false narratives to cope.

We also cannot ignore that her relationship to Sandor Clegane has instilled in her an appreciation for the un-sugarcoated truth now that she has experienced betrayal and injustice first hand. In his own way, he’s encouraged her to listen to her own inner bullshit detector. The rose-tinted glasses have become a lot more clear compared to where she started. This is a newly learned skill though, and her self-confidence has been wrecked by internalized verbal abuse. She’s also been left on her own to figure out people’s intentions by herself, which runs parallel to her mounting desperation to get out of KL as Joffrey’s violence escalates. Developing a touch more of a jaded, skeptical side does sometimes clash with her enduring idealism and faith in other people (like with the Tyrells). This struggle is not a bad thing. The goal isn’t to become as cynical as the Hound, but to arrive at an earned optimism that has been tempered by wisdom and practical experience.

Her situation with Littlefinger is much more challenging than anything she faced in KL. He moves her where he wants her to go with complex web of lies, manipulation, grooming, isolation, coercion, dependence, guilt and shame. Her safety and desire to go home are tightly bound to being complicit in his lies and criminal activities. She feels indebted to him for getting her out of KL, even though his methods push her past her boundaries and force her to compromise her moral integrity. The thing is, there are things Sansa does know about LF, but she doesn’t seem to be ready to try and put the puzzle pieces together. She’s not daring to ask probing questions about Lysa’s reference to the “tears” and Jon Arryn or about the possible dangers of Maester Colemon prescribing sweetsleep for Robert’s convulsions. While the subject of Jeyne’s fate is still one she doesn’t want to revisit, somewhere in her mind she does know LF took custody of her friend. If it feels like this is somewhat of a regression back to her early AGOT self, there’s probably some truth to that; however, it’s perfectly okay for positive character arcs to be an imperfect progress. There can be relapses, regressions, setbacks, missteps, and misguided actions. All that growth isn’t lost. Everything she knows is just stored in the back of her mind, not forgotten completely. The general trend line moves her toward successfully confronting Littlefinger with the truth when GRRM is ready to pull the trigger. She’s definitely aware of Littlefinger lying to her more than she lets on and she knows his help is not out of the kindness of his heart, but motivated by what he wants her to be to him. But it’s not like she has the option to go anywhere else, does she? She’s a wanted criminal with a bounty on her head and has no other friend or ally in the Vale she can trust with the truth of her identity. Confronting LF without any means of neutralizing his power over her isn’t the smartest thing to do when he’s shown her he can literally get away with multiple murders. Again, it’s not just her personality that makes her hesitant to pull back the veil and face the horrible truth head on. The outside forces pressuring her perceptions and behavior cannot be discounted either.

#valyrianscrolls #sansa stark meta #sansa stark #joffrey baratheon #sandor clegane #littlefinger #cersei #asoiaf characterization #the unkiss #character arcs #my meta #anonymous

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architectuul · 4 years ago

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Curating an Exhibition in 2020: Handle with Care

Architecture exhibition Handle with Care: Tales of the Invisible opens at the Lisbon Architecture Triennale on October 15, as part of this year’s program of the Future Architecture Platform. To mark the occasion, here’s the interview with Sonja Lakić, architect, researcher and curator of the exhibition.

Preparing the exhibition at Lisbon Architecture Triennale headquarters, August 2020. | Photo © Sara Battesti

As we’re approaching the winter season of the pandemic which has pushed the entire world into various forms and intensities of isolation, it seems like there could hardly be a better time to reflect upon the practice of care and its relationship to architecture. Our rooms are becoming our worlds. When you began dreaming up this exhibition, did you anticipate it opening in this context of increased awareness of the spaces we inhabit? Absolutely not. The only spaces that curating this exhibition was supposed to unfold in, apart from Lisbon Architecture Triennale headquarters, were, obviously, interiors of Future Architecture platform partners institutions that I was, as it was originally planned, about to visit last spring. I would also add interiors of airports and airplanes to the list. Hotels included. I am still curious about all the breakfasts I missed due to pandemic. I, obviously, ended up making my dreams happen in front of my screen, meeting people sitting in front of their own laptops and/or computer screens, mostly inside their homes around Europe. I vividly remember the variety of blankets, cozy sofas and afternoon naps that violently came to an end due to numerous online meetings across Europe, as well as scaffolding outside an apartment in Turin that reminded me on L’Aquila, where I completed my PhD, planting a garden on a rooftop terrace in Lisbon, dilemmas from Berlin, and, finally, being taken next to a window in Barcelona to clap and support all the caretakers. I dreamt inside all of these homes without stepping inside any of them, appreciating them as the new landscapes of care, and, finally, landed in Lisbon: we are all, obviously, still in the mode of the increased awareness by all means, yet, the exhibition will get you covered from A to Z. It is, after all, handled with care.

Space Which Meditates: Future Architecture Accessories | Photo © Sonja Lakić

How did your background in architectural research and your lasting interest in lived forms of buildings inform your work on curating this exhibition?

I am somewhat a dissident from the discipline: I work visually, yet, I operate at the scale of the everyday, chasing after the non-evident and doing the storytelling by often using the language of urban anthropology and urban ethnography. I do not believe that architecture is only a physical matter: there is more to the story than meets the eye. That being said, there was only one way to curate the “Tales of the Invisible”: zero concrete. Zero final solutions. Hardly any material architecture. From the very beginning, I knew there would be no space for the permanently built structures: instead, I, again, chose to focus on the human clay and bring different people and thinking experiments to light. I searched for different concepts and ideas, digging deep for passion and determination, attempts and failures, individuals and groups that once made the architecture world turn around, traveling back and forth in time, myself unlearning what architecture may (not) be. There is never a wrong moment to celebrate humankind and this exhibition is, to a certain extent, an excuse to do so: a gentle reminder of what still surrounds us and what we are made of, or, at least, once were.

The creative process: keeping it as analogue as possible. | Drawings and photos © Sonja Lakić

vimeo

Curator's Log. An excerpt. Preparing "Handle with Care: Tales of the Invisible" exhibition for Lisbon Architecture Triennale under the Lisbon sun. | Video © Sonja Lakić

In your curatorial statement, you refer to this exhibition as to “homage to the quirks of the human mind”, “a call to re-think where we stand” and “a gentle reminder that life comes before buildings”. Can this be interpreted as an invitation to (re)consider the political role of architecture? I, most of all, envisioned the exhibition as a conversation, or, more precisely, a call for heart-to-heart exchange of this kind: my intention and desire is that people experience it and understand it in a variety of ways, yet, in full accordance with who they genuinely are. I never aimed to reach a consensus of any kind since that would mark an end of any debate. I, therefore, thank you for this question: I am more than happy to see that, days prior to the opening, the exhibition already lives its purpose by being interpreted. Thus, to a certain extent, the answer to your question is: yes, this is also an invitation to (re)consider the political role of architecture. What, for example, influenced my curatorial approach is “the awareness to the wonders” that Alberto Pérez-Gómez believes and, moreover, propagates in the book “Built upon Love: Architectural Longing after Ethics and Aesthetics”: we, whoever we may (not) be, should develop and nurture this skill that I interpret as “to stop and smell the roses”. This exhibition does this as well. Referring to your question, I have to say that I, obviously, find architecture political and this is, with no doubt, where consensus is inevitable.

Creating models from a discarded box of chocolate cookies | Photo © Sonja Lakić

Can architecture amplify the human potential for care-giving and care-receiving, and if so, how?

I believe that architecture itself stands for the noble discipline of care. This is why I, once upon a time, decided to study it: I recognised it as an opportunity to care about people while never letting go of mathematics, arts and drawing. For a nerd like me, to be engaged in this wide spectrum of disciplines is even nowadays of crucial importance, and was, therefore, as equally important during the early university days of mine, when I managed to detect traces of psychology and sociology in very few courses I was enrolled in.

Architecture, most of all, is all about a very particular responsibility that first comes with the vision of an architect and next translates to “a program” of how to use a building: this is where one needs to be very careful, while, simultaneously, to care a lot. The program is, say, often a recipe for how to live one’s life, as prescribed by an architect: of course, this rarely happens, for the life itself is not to be tamed. Architecture already amplifies the human potential for care-giving and care-receiving. Or, should I say that there are architects who do so? Maybe that would be more ethical. There are beautiful individual minds and collectives who stand for care by their mere existence, embracing their ethics in their texts and variety of programs. To paraphrase Esra Akcan, one of my favorite minds of all times: architecture can heal. And I believe it should. The process of healing may happen through the process of (un)learning, collaboration with other disciplines, seeing the world through the eyes of the other, while, simultaneously, never ever considering anyone as the other. Same goes for care.

Taking a break in the summer of the 2020: the Sun, the ocean, the drinks, and the disinfectant gel. | Photo © Sonja Lakić

What, however, instantly comes to my mind when thinking about architecture and care, especially the healing process, is whether it is possible for the healing of post-conflict societies, including the country of my origin, that is, the region of former Yugoslavia, to happen via architectural programs that, to put it simply, celebrate life. What if, instead of constantly exposing one to memorabilia that recalls past events and somewhat advocates for the culture of mourning, we take care of people by gently reminding them of all the reasons why it is good to be alive? I am aware that this is somewhat calling for a revolution, yet, this is how “the awareness to the wonders” I previously mentioned may be attempted to achieve, without any actual construction happening: this is where temporary structures, installations and performances and engaging in performative planning and tactical urbanism, could play an important role. We owe it to ourselves, as well as to each of our individual human potentials, regardless of who we as individuals are, to, at least, try, having a little faith in architecture as an event rather than the final say.

Sonja Lakić at Lisbon Architecture Triennale headquarters, August 2020. | Photo © Sara Battesti

The exhibition draws from the collections of the Museum of Architecture and Design in Ljubljana, MAXXI National Museum of 21st Century Arts and the Estonian Museum of Architecture. What does curatorial collaboration with museums scattered across Europe look like in a time of Covid-19?

On the one hand, it resembled any other “new normal” kind of experience and, in that sense, it was not any different from any of the pandemic-imposed daily routine since it evolved around the absence of movement and the impossibility of touch. Simultaneously, it was quite a challenge: can you imagine curating an exhibition without stepping into an institution and getting to see a collection? I did dig deep within myself, looking for answers, and have to admit that, occasionally, it seemed to be a bit of a challenge. However, I have to say that I am immensely grateful to all the people that I crossed paths with and whom I collaborated with on this project: words are not enough to describe how easy and smooth the overall process was and how helpful, patient and caring were partners from Ljubljana, Rome and Tallinn. I learned a lot and indeed grew, yet, not only in professional terms: rather, collaboration with Museum of Architecture and Design in Ljubljana, MAXXI National Museum of 21st Century Arts and the Estonian Museum of Architecture had a profound impact on me personally as well and was, in this sense, a game changer. They were all extremely devoted and committed, helping me connect with architects and scientists that I, prior to this exhibition, have only read about. Oh, I went places I never dreamed of, and I will come back for more, however, in person. Hopefully no more screens.

Lisbon people and their balconies. | Photo © Sonja Lakić

A while ago, you stayed in Lisbon as a visiting researcher at ISCTE-IUL; now you’re back to curate an exhibition commissioned by Lisbon Architecture Triennale. What about the city preoccupies you these days? If Lisbon, as a living archive, could preserve one message from this exhibition, what would you like that message to be?

People. People always preoccupy me regardless of my geographical location. I am currently collaborating with ISCTE-IUL again and am also affiliated with ETNO.URB, so there are many big fishes to fry, and I am extremely happy and beyond excited for this. Of course, I could not help it: again, I observed the Lisbon edition of glazed balconies, and I found that one of them is especially dear to my heart, as it conceals the story about the most notorious apartment in the 1980s neighborhood where I found my home.

As far as the message, I would say it is rather evident: life comes before buildings. People first. Always and forever.

Sonja Lakić (1983) is an internationally trained architect and researcher with a PhD in Urban Studies. Her work evolves around open architecture and dialectical urbanism, with a keen interest in lived forms of buildings hence anthropological and sociological aspects of architectural design and the built environment. Topics of her curiosity that she nurtured in Gran Sasso Science Institute and while briefly appointed as visiting researcher at ISCTE-IUL in Lisbon, include the everydayness of architecture, home(making), housing and informality, buildings as living archives, post-conflict societies. Sonja operates across different disciplines and scales, works visually, and collects oral histories, practicing unconventional ethnography and storytelling mainly through photography. --- By Sonja Dragović

#architecture #exhibition #future architecture

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meanwhileinthebroomcloset · 5 years ago

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Mhm... This post was meant to be much shorter, honestly. Not to mention it got super personal, which was not my intention. It actually made me a bit teary-eyed and I’m usually an emotional constipated dumbass.

Am I ready for the potential backlash this is going to cause? Eh, probably not. Am I going to engage in the discourse this can cause? Ah, you wished. I have more to waste my energy on. I didn’t write this post to argument with anyone, anyway.

Gonna risk it, still.

-----------------------------------------

Isn’t it kind of ironic that it was witchcraft that made me fully return to Catholicism?

I mean, I kind of never left, hence the ‘’fully’’ in that sentence. But now I really know who I am. Although I don’t think Catholicism is the most accurate label (Christo-pagan, perhaps?) it’s the one I grew up with, and the one that comes more naturally to me.

Studying the beginning of it all, the commentaries of Pagans and Jewish writers at the time are just so fascinating and honestly beautiful.

Then everybody started chasing and killing each order, and it sure wasn’t fascinating anymore.... ‘’Stop being murderous revenge-driven assholes’’ I angrily mutter into my book, while frying my brains for High Middle Ages exams.

And then it split into Catholicism and Arianism (not that Arianism! The no-holy-trinity-on-my-watch one), and that was a totally different can of worms. Then Rome got pissy and the Orthodox Church officially became a thing that existed.

Man, why is religion so messy?

Faith is such a strange thing. So much power, so much potential for good and evil and everything in between. I started losing mine some years ago.

Contrary to some horror stories you may hear, especially from people who are now no longer Christian, I was raised in a pretty open environment.

‘’Don’t be mean, have faith, give second chances... Here are the commandments. They’re perfectly acceptable, see?’’

‘’Yes, there are different religions, but you should always respect them and the people that believe in them. Remember, Jesus was Jewish. Here’s some historical context... ‘’

‘’What the hell kid, nobody here is going to hell. Also, you’re five, there are no children in hell. No, the cops also won’t... Lord give me patience... Are you sorry? Did you apologize? Are you going to try to not repeat it? Great! Then it’s all fine and dandy!’’

‘‘Man, we are definitely all going to hell... At least since we’re all gonna be there, we could form a basketball team. The devil can be the referee. He will be an awful one, but hey, we’re in hell’‘

‘’I know the bible says the earth was created in seven days, but when that story was written, people didn’t know dinosaurs were a thing. Science is cool, and we are not in the middle ages. ‘’

‘’Blind faith is dangerous, kid.’’

‘’Thinking thoughts and acting upon them are two very different things.’’

‘’Yes, the second mom in that Solomon story was willing to see another kid die for the sake of an argument... sometimes people are that bad.’’

‘’God is perfect. People aren’t. That’s the world we live in and it’s okay.’’

‘’There are people who do terrible things in name of religion or say they’re doing it because the bible says so. Don’t believe them. There’s no excuse for murder and abuse.’’

‘’Yeah, Portugal is very enthusiastic when it comes to Catholicism... ’’

Pretty good summary of religion in my childhood.

Still, I found my faith waning. I didn’t really know why and I’m still a bit iffy talking about that.

‘’What did witchcraft do, then?’’

Well for once, it reinforced my ideas on how faith worked, and how strangely powerful it can be. Being skeptical is healthy but completely closing yourself off because something isn’t completely clear is too radical and you're just doing the equivalent of closing your eyes to the less brighter lights.

My god, I can hear the hardcore atheists coming...

Can I remind you there are more things in life that will not provide the proof you want, but that won’t mean they aren’t there? Relationships. Relationships are too complicated to have straight answers, a lot of the times. People hide their feelings, they fake them, express them and react to them differently. There are so many things we don’t understand or know about yet, like space and organisms that live on this Earth.

Sometimes what you need is a different approach to see they exist! It’s one of the things I learned with witchcraft.

There was also the religion itself. As I worked on my magic, I started seeing magic around me again. Not just with gods I had never considered and the one I was leaving behind, but with the faith I had always known.

The affection when someone says ‘’Our Lady’’ when talking about the Virgin Mary, my family calling upon Saint Barbara when thunder comes, children screeching excitedly because the Compasso has arrived to give us the news that Jesus has come to life again in Easter, the marble cemeteries, the comforting prayers, the masses I couldn’t ear because the local church’s echo is terrible, those boring long-ass weddings (oh my god, how many blessings do two people need?!), the loving dedication I see in every saint carved, my church's priest’s good humor... I never owned a rosary, but I always like the ones my aunts and grandparents keep.

I found Christian and Catholic witches on this site and I finally got to my conclusion. It’s really there. I just needed a different approach to it!

These things made me believe again, but also in new things.

‘‘But you can’t do that! You can’t combine magic and christianity’‘

Oh, watch me. And also watch the centuries of cunning women and witches in European history and those still alive today. The women that make ‘’mezinhas’’ and other types of favors in Portugal sure as hell are doing witchcraft, but you can bet your ass they don’t think they’re any less Catholic than anyone else. They don’t care about your opinions and I will hopefully do the same.

Relationships with deities are personal, and my relationship with God, Jesus and all of them is no different in that regard. I am a witch, I am human, I am catholic. I’m a follower, not a fucking mindless sheep.

You know what? I always compared God to Aslan. The lion wasn’t always there for Narnia, he wanted his people to solve their problems on their own. Get their independence, as a good parent does. They both don’t come up all mighty, that’s a posture reserved for evil and people who need a good slap in the face. They come to your level. God may come through one of the less eldritch abomination looking angels, though...

‘‘Well, if you have god, you shouldn’t need anything more. He's everthing. Why are you also a witch?’‘

Excuse me, do I look like a goddamned saint to you?! What part of human did you not understand?

And before you bitterly start quoting the Old Testament, let me remind you that it’s Old for a reason. Christ came to this earth to give us new rules since he technically saved us and things became different. That’s why Jewish people follow the Old Testament, for them, the messiah hasn’t arrived yet. Not to mention that to them that testament is not Old, it’s just the Torah.

You can keep quoting the bible to me all you want. But in my short twenty years of life, I was thankfully able to learn a few things. One of them is that the world isn’t black and white. Yes, I know this sounds obvious but there are some really dumb people out there. Also, this is the hellscape that we call tumblr.

Anyway, as I have mentioned several times before, I’m a never-ending knowledge seeker I found the world beneath my feet is not pure myth and I want to explore it. Look at me go.

I keep a critical mind with everything. Faith and religion are not an exception. I’m not overly skeptic about faith itself, but I am of its writings, interpretations, translations and etc... I study history, it’s a skill you naturally develop.

And there’s quite a few plot-holes, characterization differences and much more. It was written by humans that couldn’t do a cohesive collaboration even if their lives depended on it. Godphones sometimes don’t get a good reception. There’s a ton of cultural context to unpack. I hear people saying all the time that taking the bible’s words literally is one of the most stupid things you can do.

And when I say people, I mean priests, clergy, theology students, etc... I didn’t hear this from my drug dealer in the street corner..

...... I don’t have a drug dealer.....

Anyway...

There are many problems with the catholic church. There are many problems with a ton of catholic and christians out there. I will never deny that. Shit needs to get fixed and maybe even chucked into the trash.

But I still believe in God, I still believe in the saints but I also still believe there are more gods and spirits out there. And those things are separate.

I have no interest in converting you. I’m just yelling into the void.

If you are one of those that no longer is a christian, or catholic because some dipshits banged self-hate onto your head, I’m really sorry. I hope you heal well and get the help you need in your new faith or lack of it. Banging the ten commandments back onto their heads repetiedly and tell them to actually read the damn book is optional, though.

In the end, if you are (or are trying) to be good, you deserve respect and freedom to worship whoever or whatever you want. You don’t need to be perfect, you can just strive to be the best you can be in your situation.

--------------------------------------------

And now back to our schedueled programing.

#well #that was a thing #rant #christian witch #catholic witch

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saltoftheplanet · 5 years ago

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Why I’m skeptical about the Final Fantasy VII Remake

I’m skeptical that the remake will be good because there will be a lot of changes that will impact the direction, tone and narrative of the game, and Square Enix’s track record suggests to me that those inevitable changes will destroy and undercut what was special about the original game.

An essay breaking that down piece by piece is under the cut.

There will be a lot of changes

The remake will represent a huge and doubtlessly beautiful graphical update. With these updates, however, comes the need for a variety of new directorial decisions. For example, how should the camera behave during cutscenes? Who should they frame, and how? What will their body language and facial expressions show? Now that all the cutscenes will be voice acted, what tone will characters speak familiar lines with?

Likewise, the game is switching to a third-person, over-the-shoulder view. The original FFVII used a fixed camera and prerendered backgrounds to create a world that felt rich, full, and often cluttered. Every level will require redesign to account for the new way of moving about the world, and the amount of assets required to create the same feeling and to direct your attention in a same way will be exponentially higher. Likewise, there will need to be changes to account for the new combat system, as stages will need to be designed for both exploration and combat in many cases.

The episodic format of the game will necessitate changes to the pacing. Successful episodic games excel at creating self-contained rising and falling action and narrative arcs within each episode. Conversely, Final Fantasy VII was plotted and paced as a single complete narrative. Either the pace and order of events will need to be changed to make each episode stand strongly on its own, or the episodes on their own will be gawky and suffer pacing issues as they are pulled out of context from the greater whole.

Finally, the narrative itself will change. We have yet to see a verbatim line in each of the trailers, so the script itself is being rewritten, and with it many nuances will change. Square has stated point-blank that story changes are on the table. Finally, the compilation of Final Fantasy VII and the various Ultimanias released over the years have added a variety of changes to the narrative and to the lore. The teaser trailers we’ve seen so far have been in-line with the Midgar we see in Advent Children, itself a massive change to the famously ambiguous ending of the original game.

Direction and tone will be affected

All of these changes will not be neutral. In just about every decision of how this story is retold, some things are necessarily going to be emphasized and de-emphasized. Each of these decisions will carry and shift meaning in subtle ways. In that sense, the remake should more truly be considered an adaptation.

Examine the opening of FFVII; a meandering view of the stars fades into Aeris’ face. A single long shot pulls back to the city of Midgar. The tone here is mysterious, and the amount of time dedicated to the environment equals or surpasses the time spent on a character. This direction in cinematography echoes the game’s focus, as it is very much a story about the interplay between the characters as they exist inside of larger, overwhelming forces and environments.

The remake does have the opportunity to give us more meaningful cinematography in its cutscenes, but it may also make directorial decisions that change the meaning or impact of scenes. Especially likely is an increased focus on the characters and the action, and implicitly, the “cool” factor of both of those things, seeing as how the Remake and Square Enix as a company largely foreground great visuals and cool sequences. There’s absolutely room for that, of course, considering the bike scene in the original - but the broader point here is that no intervention can be neutral, and the Remake will inevitably have a different focus from the original.

One influential decision the writers have made is in their audience. All promotional material thus far has been aimed squarely at “returning” players, with no explanations offered for newcomers. What we’ve seen so far is in line with the marketing material - they are not simply trying to recreate FFVII as it was, but also tap into our collective sense of familiarity about it. The direct engagement with an expected audience means they will likely try to recreate the feeling of the experience rather than the experience itself, which would then necessitate certain story changes to keep things surprising or mysterious. This approach will inevitably widen the gulf between the remake and the original game.

SquareEnix’s Track Record

SquareEnix has been behind many beloved games, but they are not the company they were when they released FFVII. Their track record over the past decade, maybe even closer to the past 15 years, has been one of spotty quality, half-baked ideas, poor execution, and a narrative flexibility that suggests a lack of commitment to telling a story with singular vision and protecting the integrity of that story. Whatever your opinion or personal enjoyment of more recent Final Fantasy entries, they objectively lack the clarity and direction that made older entries of this series so beloved. To be completely clear, it is not that I believe these stories could never get there; it is that I’m keenly aware of the fact that they came short.

But more relevant than Square’s entries in the mainline Final Fantasy franchise are the entries to the Compilation of FFVII. These, two, have come with a variety of directorial changes that the new format and technology demanded. They’ve built their own lexicon that will likely be drawn upon in the creation of the remake, and that bring subtle changes along with them. For instance - Advent Children’s visually spectacular fight scenes introduced us to the idea that the characters were all able to leap vast distances and perform acrobatics mid-fight, and we’ve seen this idea carried forward into all subsequent entries of the series, even though it’s somewhat at odds with the more grounded, cyberpunk tone of the original game that earmarked these kinds of superhuman abilities as specifically unusual.

That may seem like a minor quibble, but I would argue that it’s a series of minor changes that have led to the difference in tone and focus between the compilation and the original game, and it comes down to a variety of directorial decisions that continue to be pertinent. For example, in Advent Children, the writing team made a decision to base Cloud’s character around what people would most remember from the game, and decided that would probably be the Cloud that we see at the beginning of the game. This decision was in play as early as his cameo in Kingdom Hearts, and for as inconsequential as it may have seemed then, it’s carried a rippling effect with it. By choosing to write the character in a way that they felt most fans would recognize, they also chose to downplay the growth and the specific quirks that wound up making that character interesting - a repeated issue with many of the characters.

Likewise, because the compilation prioritizes its returning Final Fantasy VII fans, it also tends to prioritize fanservice and recognizable, digestable moments over the overarching narrative of the world of Final Fantasy VII. One memorable example would be a cute Yuffie cameo in the midst of the Wutai War in Crisis Core, a war we are told repeatedly was extremely brutal and which actually destroyed Yuffie’s home and embittered her for years thereafter. The result is a story that’s at odds with itself due to tonal and character inconsistency. The prioritization of a quick moment of familiar joy robs the character of her impact in the long term, and this pattern is repeated for many other characters throughout.

Of course, the compilation has changed more than tone and framing of characters, and has also contributed several ideas to the world of Final Fantasy VII that are now in play. For example, the idea that upon death, people return to the Lifestream, whereby their spiritual energy is used by the planet to create new life. This is a distinctly animist idea that the Compilation has leaned away from, as they cannot cameo dead characters if those characters have since been reincarnate as trees. The compilation has since introduced the notion that a person’s soul and consciousness not only stays intact, but that they can come into contact with the living - an idea that’s fundamentally at odds with the themes of life, loss, death, existentialism and uncertainty that are extant in the original game.

Finally, though not least significantly, Polygon’s An Oral History of Final Fantasy 7 reveals that the reason Advent Children and subsequently the compilation was created was to save Square Enix from financial ruin, not to continue the story for its own sake. It is important to acknowledge the reality that Final Fantasy VII is bankable, and the reason for the remake to begin with may very well be that bankability rather than a good faith intention to retell a story that touched many. The episodic nature of the release does nothing to help that faith, nor does the fact that initial development was outsourced to a third party.

What was so special about FFVII

“So what?” you might ask. Even if there are a ton of changes, and those change the direction and tone of the game, does that really mean it won’t or can’t be good? To that - the jury is out. But I don’t particularly care if the FFVII remake is a good video game - I care if it’s a good representation of FFVII.

I admit without reservation that FFVII is, to use a technical term, anime trash. It has lots of rule of cool sequences that keep the game light, bits of spotty translation, and narrative stumbles. It is not a perfect work. But there is a reason why it was enduring; there was meaning to it, and that meaning was what made it special and unique.

FFVII was a ponderous game. It seldom presented an idea without later exploring and unpacking it. Its characters are seldom what they appear, the mission they undergo is hardly as noble as it seems, and what you expected to happen simply didn’t. It’s rife with deliberate ambiguity and doesn’t work overly hard to explain itself. Its story is shot through with uncertainty, about identity, faith, morality, justice, and every other waymark we use to navigate our life. Its most memorable moments rest in the loss of that certainty, and its most triumphant in the character’s perseverance regardless.

Though FFVII is primarily remembered and beloved for how it made people feel, it wasn’t written to be deliberately provocative or emotionally manipulative. The story was deeply impacted by a real-world loss, and the mandate of the team at the time was to convey that loss for how it truly felt, without the celluloid gloss and tropes like a dying speech that have since proliferated through the compilation. There was an honesty, an integrity and a complexity to this story that caused people to argue in earnest that it was the first video game that could truly be considered a piece of art.

I think the ephemeral nature of these qualities often leads people to conclude that FFVII is mainly loved due to “nostalgia,” but that’s a dismissive take that fails to acknowledge the deliberateness and consistency of its themes and ideas. The same care has very obviously not been given to any of the subsequent FFVII games.

In other words: this was never going to be an easy game to remake. A remake worthy of standing on the same pedestal as the original would require the same careful dedication to thematic consistency and integrity, to tone and feeling as the original. It would require careful thought to the impact and presentation of each of the monumental changes demanded by the new technology and platform.

Square-Enix has yet to do anything to suggest that it is up to this task. I have tremendous empathy for the development team that is taking on this task, but that doesn’t mean I have faith in their ability to really, truly, pull it off.

#final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii remake #ffvii #e3 #ff7 remake

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holinessanddesire · 4 years ago

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Excerpt: ‘What’s Wrong with a World Run by Desire?’

In his 2016 album Darkness and Light John Legend wondered aloud how his baby daughter would fare growing up into the world he knows, a world ‘run by desire’.

The vitality of desire is not humankind’s main problem. Quite the reverse, actually. I don’t think that our spiritual energies should be engaged upon the lifelong, doomed task of evading, banishing, neutralising or – failing all else – finding ways to slip out temporarily from under its power. We, good stoics, would lose in our achieved indifference…all this: longing, wanting, lacking, yearning, wishing, hoping, burning, hungering, thirsting, calling, praying, reaching, remembering, mourning. Without these the only thing left to want is death.

‘Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp’, wrote Robert Browning, ‘Or what’s a heaven for?’ The question acknowledges that the idea of heaven may be powerful, even necessary, but might not be true. It could be a fantasy, constructed only to keep longing alive. In the context of the poem, it sounds almost like a counsel of despair.

But Browning’s lines escaped their context and became an inspirational aphorism. Taken on their own, the lines keep God at a controllable distance, allowing for a human-centred vision into which optional homeopathic doses of the divine can be dripped as a brightener. They fit quite neatly into the family of inspirational tropes and vaguely spiritualised mission statements.

Modern culture is in the business of narrowing the distance between ‘reach’ and ‘grasp’, to make heaven unnecessary. (Or at least to make it so that heaven really is a place on earth, as in the Belinda Carlisle song from the 1980s.) Rhetoric about the ambition of the human spirit is built into commerce, into civic rhetoric, into education. When ‘reach’ and ‘grasp’ are treated as synonyms, possibility and fulfilment can be made to melt improbably into each other. The promise of fulfilment is everywhere, from the can-do HSBC adverts which line the walls of airport jet bridges to the words of the secular primary school song ‘Believe’, which carelessly loads onto every child the burden of compulsory success:

I can do anything at all,

I can climb the highest mountain,

I can feel the ocean calling wild and free.

I can be anything I want,

with this hope to drive me onward,

if I can just believe in me.

This is great positioning for advertising. Adverts exploit the gap between hope and fulfilment by implying that the one will become the other. Adverts also need them not to, because fulfilment doesn’t sell things. In watching an advert we are watching a fantasy from which our sophisticated distance is assumed. They are constructed to exert influence rather than to command assent, though the less sophisticated rollover which assent delivers is always welcome.

Yet the gap between hope and fulfilment which adverts pretend to bridge is a gap we need.

Fulfilment that extinguishes hope renders its own benefits invisible. The gap is where we live, the place of desire. And when the gap is only acknowledged with success as a pre-condition (‘with this hope to drive me onward’) desire is dangerously harnessed. For those many - those most; those all - who discover that the mountains are, after all, too high, the ocean too dangerously wild and wet and deep, failure and shame attend an astonished disappointment. Nothing to wish for except the thing we failed at, nothing to hope for except the thing we thought was already our due. Nothing acknowledged to be beyond the human grasp. Success might even be worse - no bounds, no checks, no perspective. If the whole universe is imagined to be smaller than a single human will, then that single human will is a giant adrift in a wilderness of nowhere. But we are not giants. We are small people tricking ourselves. We are confined in ways that the songs and the adverts simply will not admit.

You can only sing ‘imagine there’s no heaven’ with real enthusiasm if you truly believe that there’s an easily closable gap between reach and grasp. The lyrics of John Lennon’s song are millenarian, eschatological. The perfect time when humankind sings in harmony and lives in peace is here - or just around the corner, anyway. But it wasn’t. It isn’t. In the end, the longing of a song like ‘Imagine’ is exactly the same as the longing for heaven in Browning’s poem - it points to a wonderful elsewhere that cannot be touched. As I was growing up, across the 1970s and 80s, people seemed uncertain about whether it couldn’t be touched because it had already happened (the 1960s being so decisively over, so enviable) or whether it was on its way somehow and still unfolding.

The headmaster of my primary school preached to us almost weekly about the imminent coming of the end-times, newspaper in hand to match current events up to the relevant passages from Revelation. We would all sing ‘God is working his purpose out’ accompanied by wailing recorders. And the earth shall be filled with the glory of God as the waters cover the sea. I became wary of apocalyptic sunsets. I prayed that Christ would not come in my lifetime, or my children’s, or my children’s children’s, on and on as far as I could imagine my intercessory intervention running. I wasn’t sure it was going to work.

Once John Lennon was shot, in 1980, it became clear that heaven was not round the corner at all: it had been and gone. The world was back to its sordid business-as-usual. The boyfriends I went out with (some of them) yelled along to Crass’s anti-nuclear blast: ‘They’ve got a bomb’. Personally, I was bored and alienated by punk, so loud, local and masculine. (Hersham was four stops away, its boys a nuisance at parties.) I took refuge in the last gasps of romantic, space-age eschatology, buying my stairways to heaven with (Tim) Blake’s New Jerusalem, King Crimson’s Islands with its astonishing cover of stars, Led Zeppelin’s ‘Battle of Evermore’ or even the more terrestrial wistfulness of ‘Going to California’. I tried not to notice the ways they were absurd or downright repulsive, or the boredom of long improvisations, or how necessary it was to be a man to enter prog rock paradise. I tried to play the piano like Keith Emerson, but only managed to be nicknamed after the piano-playing dog on The Muppet Show. I didn’t want to think heaven could never arrive, though I had my fair share of four-minute-warning dreams. I asked my mother, in 1979, whether she was afraid. ‘Not after Cuba’, she said.

So what’s a heaven for? It is the place of desire; and we reach towards it through the passions of experience.

Our delight in the present and tangible is not confined inside a point called now. It spreads out from it, backwards and forwards through time. It connects the immediate (now) to the unattainable (then). It does this in the associations of memory, which is the form for longing after what once was. And it does this also in the way that we look, in a strangely similar longing, towards what has not yet come to be, the sight just at the edge of our vision. The experience of becoming, of being someone who has an unfolding meaning in the world, is absolutely dependent upon experience we can’t possess, experience lent to us through imagination and in memory. Somewhere over the rainbow waits the living fulfilment of all our longing. My Christian faith trusts desire to contain all meaning; in desire my eyeline lifts up beyond what is available, pressing forward towards something I am too small to possess. Whilst we are creatures who value yearning, who know that our reach exceeds our grasp, we are able also to be creatures looking beyond the visible towards what we cannot yet see or touch, towards the mystery of things. Desire keeps the future open and the past breathing; it invests the present with potential, a charge of power it cannot retain by itself.

The immediate is important. But alone it is vulnerable to despair. Desire invests the immediate and the tangible with potential, so that every experience becomes bigger than its own moment. Desire is our bridge out of the rule of time; and even if the bridge is barred presently by the toll-gates of marketing campaigns it is still possible to find ways to look into a priceless distance. ‘Buy wine and milk without money and without price’, invites God through the poetry of the third writer to be called Isaiah. ‘Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which does not satisfy?” Without hope - without its freight of desire - everything we already possess loses weight and value. When we behave as if the New Jerusalem is already here, we are bound for disappointment.

The heart-changing stories of humanity’s desire are not about careless delight or tearless potency. Ours is not a Captain Marvel story. We do not have to imagine what it is like to possess bodies impervious to violence or age, or minds indifferent to the passing of time. Our narratives of seeking and finding end not in strangeness but in recognition. For Christians like me, God manifests in the known human face, in the weakness of a baby, the rare vulnerability of an unarmed man, the defencelessness of offered love, the keeping company with a dying body, the unlooked-for meeting seen through passionate tears. For us, God inhabits the everyday truths of weakness, finitude and loss. For us, God’s presence is strong in the places where the human imagination quails or retreats - with the degraded, the despairing, the imprisoned, the raped, the assimilated or devoured, those of damaged or vanished memory, the dying, those in pain, the tortured and humiliated, those in social exile. All the places which bring human sympathy to a standstill, which darken human comprehension, unreeling the heart towards meaninglessness - those are the places God inhabits with special care. There are no locked doors in the divine imagination. This is a very great mercy of its own, because the burdens of human suffering and human cruelty are sometimes too heavy to bear. Live in the place of death for long enough and death can be what you will long for. But to us another heart helps bear that burden and another eye looks when we cannot, opening a door out of the dark confines of earth and dust. To us, paradise is a place of mercy and restoration, where tears are wiped away rather than where they were never shed.

So, then, what’s wrong with a world ‘run by desire’? If it is the ultimate good thing, the bridge to eternity, the raw material of meaning, the life-motor? What’s not to like? But turn the thought around. This isn’t about a world unexpectedly illuminated by wild desire, but one with its wildness trapped into serving short-term, deliberately short-lived pleasures. And our world, the world of the modern West, though it cannot trap all the wild desire there is, has managed to enslave desire on a truly industrial, global scale.

I do not know exactly what John Legend means as he sings to his baby. But the potential of a new baby is one of the very few places where our vision is long; where we clearly understand desire to be about a relationship between the immediate present and a possibly wonderful future. Babies require patience. They don’t always oblige with smiles and cute moments. You can’t rely on what you’ll get looking after a baby – though it will be unexpectedly wonderful at odd moments. Caring for babies means a grinding and monotonous set of vital, continual mini-tasks, is as different as it possibly can be from the harnessing of desire for swift gratification.

There is little space for the needs of babies - or wildlife, or insects, or trees or oceans or glaciers - in a world run by desire. Desire as a motor for immediate reward drives towards possession rather than care, possessions rather than relationships. It is harnessed in order to direct and distract us only towards objects we can completely encompass. It encourages us to think about non-human stuff - whether we mean by that the 27,000 miles of submerged mountain ranges at the bottom of the sea or our distance from the indifferent stars - as items which at least metaphorically can be ‘handled’, owned in the hand. What does it say about the human relationship with the wilds of space that a businessman might send up a Tesla into the orbit of Mars? (And even that has its own joie de vivre – unlike the many car adverts which fetishise the solitary landscapes the car economy continues to endanger and across which, on our crowded roads, no car driver may travel alone.) Yet to have and to hold means nothing without the stuff which we can’t just have, can’t quite grasp; the associations of the lost past; the potential of what might come; the wildness of what can’t be understood. The wickedness of many car adverts is that (like certain kinds of global tourism) they pretend we can buy wildness.

In a world run, rather than filled, by desire, our grasp is so continual and so driven that we forget that we have any reach at all. We are under compulsion - a word meaning enslavement - flogging the moment to beat a residual grain of longing or memory out of its blankness, or killing the time watching a procession of the wonderfully alien artfully domesticated into small-screen cliche. ‘It was no great mistake’, remarks the seventeenth century mystic Thomas Traherne, ‘to say, that to have blessings and not to prize them is to be in Hell. For it maketh them ineffectual, as if they were absent. Yea, in some respects it is worse than to be in Hell. It is more vicious, and more irrational’. Living becomes a crowded list of short-term goals and greeds. When we forget our reach we also forget our own small size; we forget that we shall die; we forget that we do not make ourselves, or live to ourselves, or die to ourselves. We forget that there is anything bigger than the self. We spend our entire lives in the act of distracted forgetting to avert our own mortality. It is not being very good for us.

#holinessanddesire

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thoughtlessghost · 4 years ago

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Salem ou alekoum fellow disbelievers,

I decided to write this story down because one of my friends is currently questioning Islam. She said it might be a good idea for me to share my journey to help her and others find inner peace once you have walk out of something you grew up thinking was correct. I think I will make this a 2-3 parts series depending on interest and how she deals with just part 1. There's a lot to go through, and I will try to be brief, but I do not mind elaborating on any section in the comments or private. I am very open and confident about who and what I am. Finally, I want to have at least one part dedicated to my current worldview with the hopes of helping you guys create your moral landscape.

Finally, I would like to complete this preface by saying that I know that we all have personal reasons for leaving a Religion. Some of you have left the faith because you felt as though it was too controlling; others may have felt that God was simply too cruel. I will say that in the end, those were not the deciding factors for me. In my view, only Truth matters. Therefore, for me to stop believing in a concept, it merely has to be proven untrue, whether scientifically or logically. So my journey of leaving Islam did not originate because I had problems with its takes on the world. They occurred in large part because I feel as though Islam is inconsistent with our understanding of the natural world. Given the purpose of writing this is to help people, and that most people don't make decisions based on logic, I will try and emphasize how events and not thoughts affected my worldview to help illustrate how and when the transition occurred.

1. Humble beginnings: I know everybody has a different upbringing, so I would like to give you guys some context of how familiar I was with Islam growing up as a child (4-12). For starters, I am the eldest son of first-generation Algerian immigrants to Canada. This is just to tell you I'm brown, and I went to a school surrounded by non-muslims. In school, I was a troublemaker. I was basically this brainy kid who cared so little of rules and norms that I was almost transferred to this school for a learning disability. In response, my dad would beat the shit out of me every day for not being an obedient student despite my grades being decent (during that period B to B+). Despite his sincerest efforts, I never learned or changed. I'm only saying this because it made Arabic school impossible for my parents to manage since I simply refused to do my regular homework from school. My thinking was something like this: "What's the point of going to ANOTHER school on the weekend and spend all of my time off doing pointless alphabetical exercises in a language no one other than my parents spoke?" This, in turn, limited my exposure to Islam since I didn't interact with other Muslim kids. Finally, my parents bestowed upon me few Islamic teachings or practices. For instance, I fasted, I didn't eat pepperoni pizza, I was a relatively good kid, and I knew of prayer. Still, it wasn't something we did in our household. So I basically ended up with the same amount of knowledge of Islam and Arabic as Mohammed did when he was visited by Gabriel.

2. The quest begins: By the time I reached 14, I began to change mentally (One would only hope). I had stopped being this rebellious kid and became a book worm. I read encyclopedias, watched documentaries, binged read Wikipedia and genuinely wanted to learn everything the world had to offer. Therefore, religion seemed like the next logical step. Another reason that pushed me to that position is my first adolescent trip to Algeria. It was the first time I had truly been exposed to Islam, and I felt like I got a good whiff of what it meant to be a Muslim. And so, I decided I had now come of age and was of sufficient maturity to read the Quran and become a proper Muslim. I purchased a translated version of the Holy Book and waited until nightfall to open it. I vividly remember the mindset I put myself in before opening the book. I told myself the following things:

1. Bismillah. (YAH BOY) 2. I am about to read a book written by a being that is not human. (how fucking cool is that?!) 3. It is a book of ultimate and limitless knowledge and is the literal word of God. 4. It will guide me now and forever, for it is a timeless work meant to guide all of humanity.

By the time I made it halfway through Al-Baqarah, the second chapter of the book, I was mortified. For whatever reason, God presented himself as a terrifying merciless being. So many verses spoke about how powerful God was, and for some reason, it felt weird to me. It's almost like Bill Gates flaunting billions at a homeless person or a fisherman trying to shame a fish on how it cant breathe once it's out of water. I also felt as though too many verses spoke about eternal damnation instead of collective upbringing. In essence, it wasn't the book I expected. I was hoping for the key to save my soul and help humanity. All that ran through my head was that I was unworthy and had to dedicate myself or else face the consequences. But I persevered. Over the next few days, I kept reading while trying to keep an open mind, but I was definitely feeling perplexed. What I could not wrap my head around was the following: If God can indeed do anything, why can't he have a son? Like all this talk about how Powerful he is, but he can't have a son?

It was around this time I started to explore other religions. However, there were so many religions that existed that it would take an eternity to study and contemplate every single one. So I elaborated the following shortcuts:

1. I skipped Judaism because a "true" faith can't have fewer subscribers than the city of New York. That also threw a bunch of other religions out the window. In my view, a Divine being should do a good job of spreading his work even if he has to do it remotely. 2. I skipped polytheistic religions like Hinduism because multiple Gods seemed odd to me. 3. Buddhism didn't have a deity, can we, therefore, call it a religion?

By that flawless logic (lol), I thought that Christianity was likely to be the One True Faith. But there were inconsistencies. For starters, the faith had multiple subdivisions and multiple versions given the Bible was written after the life of Jesus. Suffice to say, I agreed with most Muslim criticisms towards Christianity's essence manipulated by men. If Christianity is the real deal, then God would have cared a little more. As a side note to my thinking, the book of Narnia really helped me appreciate Christianity. It portrayed a more merciful caring version of God that wanted what was best for his disciples and all that existed. Yet the feeling of a merciful and just God was simply not sufficient to make me convert.

And so I started to think about atheism. However, I could still feel the presence of God. In the end, I just felt discouraged. I wrapped my head around the whole thing when I realized there was a possibility I was simply too immature to understand Islam or the Quran. So, in the end, I decided to postpone my immersion in the faith until later.

3. I committed: By the time I reached 16, I had started rereading the Quran, which actually flowed better this time around. I was relieved to know that my 14-year-old self was simply too childish. Eventually, I stumbled upon a verse akin to the following: Oh, Believers look into the world, and you shall see evidence of Islam. It felt as though God challenged me to learn science and search for proof of his existence in the natural world. And so, I did.

So one thing that occurred to me growing up is that I wanted to learn everything. By the time I reached 12, I thought to myself that if I knew every word in the dictionary, I would end up knowing everything. But the dictionary was dull. So, I decided that if I know how all things came about by reading history, then I would end up knowing everything. So when I read that verse that said learn science, I was ecstatic. I just doubled down on my readings and started to focus more on scientific theories. I read about physics and the origin of the universe. I read on chemistry and the nature of matter and atomic bonds. By the time I reached biology, Darwinism quickly became very problematic. I thought really long and hard about how to counter it. I started to read into Intelligent Design and watched Islamic Scholars debate atheists. Still, it didn't make sense to me since the evidence for evolution was just overwhelming.

I voiced some of my concerns to a Muslim friend of mine in High School, and we had this long-winded conversation in which he convinced me he was right. I wish I remembered exactly what he said, but I remember him instilling upon me enough doubt to make me not drop the faith. Following that conversation, I decided it was time to commit to Islam finally. Here are a few things I started to do: 1. I started praying 5-7 times per day. 2. I read the Quran. 3. I would watch videos daily on what it meant to be a Muslim and how I can improve on my practice. 4. I would fast every once a while. 5. I went to the mosque whenever I could since it was far from where I lived. 6. I even helped start our prayer group in High School. In that group, we would all sit and eat together. We shared food, laughter and drinks. We were a brotherhood through and through, and for a time, it was good.

Reflecting on this period, I was one standard deviation from being in a CIA hit list. I literally messaged Benjamin Netanyahu on YT, encouraging him to stop his occupation of Palestine and to seak a peaceful approach when engaging with my brothers and sisters. Despite these friendly messages, some darker thoughts flowed through me. So I will say that there definitely is some credence to the idea that the more radical a Muslim is, the more you should worry about him, especially if he is a dude.

So when I say I genuinely believed 100% of what the Quran said, I really did. Some people will say: "Well, yea, I also used to be that way too." Well, I think I took it to another degree. For instance, when I used to walk, I would think to myself there are two people next to me—these immortal, holy beings made of light were sent by God to watch over my every move. I must, therefore, walk and behave in the utmost perfect ways to not only impress them but also uphold my honour. I was 16.

4.The Masturbation/sleep problem:

Now I'm going to say that the period mentioned above lasted about 6 months. During this period, despite my holier than thou behaviour, I was still a man, and I had urges dawg. Every once in awhile, i.e, once a week, I would lament hypothetically at my hypocrisy. Repression creates obsession; truer words have never been spoken. The more I fought my urges not to masturbate, THE MORE I HAD TO. I created this whole inner mathematical system based on the number 19 since its a particular Islamic number. Basically, I would only masturbate around times when I could calculate 19. To me, it meant God approved of my addiction. I ended up using the time since my alarm clock was next to me. Its such warped logic don't look too much into it for when there is a will there is a way and I can get creative. Here are a few noteworthy examples:

1.Its 1:09 AM. Shit that's 19 to me since all you have to do is ignore the 0, and you have 19. 2. Its 1:45 AM. You guessed it 19. 3.7:00 PM. 19. 4. 12:07 PM. Unzip. 5. 12:17. PM shit, that's 19 too. 12+(1 times 7). Guess its Time for round 2. 6. 12:35 PM. FUCK I have to again you see 1+2+35=38, which is 19 times 2. EYYYY

[Insert COOMER MEME.]

To get over this dissonance, the Devil was responsible for these intrusive thoughts. I was a holy man of God, after all. But the voice that told me to unzip my pants and wax my carrot was the EXACT same voice that told me to go bed when I didn't want too. In the end, I knew deep down temptation doesn't come from the Devil. It comes from me. I decide what I do with my life, not some off-world entity. Keep in mind for later its just this thing I noticed. The Mosque event: So the day started like any other Friday prayer. The Imam began to speak about how God has no equal. He went on about how great and awesome of a sky Chad he was. He said that although he had no equal, there was another being that was insanely powerful as well. My eyes lit up, for I loved Islamic lore. He said that among non-God entities, the strongest was Gabriel. Eventually, he went on to say how to associate any other thing to God's power was literally the worst crime a human could commit. Shirk was worse than murder, he said. It literally guarantees you a trip to Hell.

And so given that I was human when I am told not to think about something, I immediately start to think about it. So I began to think well what if Gabriel stood up to God. I do not know what came over me but I got a literal panic attack from this. [Insert meme it was at this moment he knew he fucked up]

As the Imam had so eloquently put it to associate anything to God, you just committed the worst sin ever. I kept trying to tell myself not to think about it. Still, it just kept repeating it over and over again despite my sincerest efforts. I legit left the mosque and went back home and prayed all night, hoping God would forgive me.

The next morning was wild. I was basically schizophrenic since I kept thinking God was going to smite me for I have sinned. Crossing the street was so hard since I felt God would turn a car invisible and run me over or would simply kill me there where I stood. I lived in utter fear since I felt as though I had a bounty on my head. The inner world that I worked so hard to create had fallen apart from stupid, intrusive, thoughts. How the mighty have fallen.

5.Rethinking the Conspiracies:

A few days later, I started to rethink everything inside my head once I started to calm down. I felt as though my fears were way too irrational for the type of person I usually am and that I could not regain my sanity by thinking I was unworthy. I just simply had to work my way back up to the top fam.

During this time, I also began to rethink my understanding of the political world. For starters, as far back as I can remember, I have always been anti-authority. I believed in political realism, and so large corporations or governments always used their powers to oppress others. And so, what began as a soft-hearted liberal who thought 911 was an inside job turned into a cult of devil worshippers who rule the world and are trying to get us into the End Times.

This political worldview of a small elite who use the Devil to gain off-world power was further validated my understanding of Islam. In my view, the END WAS NEAR. Eventually, people took my ideas and thoughts in High School, and it became its own thing. Just to give you context on the time here, but it was when Lady Gaga dropped Bad Romance, and Kanye West and Jay-Z dropped Watch The Throne. We would analyze the videos and look for satanic imagery, but I always felt like that was a tad bit too far. Why are they being so apparent about something that's supposed to be secret? Predictive-Programming can only go so far after all. I began to pushback on this worldview, and I went so far back that Islam was caught in the cross-fire.

This turned into a three-month-long journey. I started by revisiting natural selection, and I realized that I duped myself. I just did not understand natural selection well enough to defend my position 6 months ago. I read The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. I binged watched George Carlin, and he really helped me overcome any anxiety I had towards leaving my faith because, like him, I really did want to believe in a deity, but I started to realize all of the inconsistencies. [I will elaborate more on this in a later part]

5. The social consequences: By the time I left my faith, I was open about it. I have always been vocal about what I believe in, and I simply told all of my prayer brothers why I stopped going to prayer. Needless to say, they weren't pleased about it. Unlike Elementary School and as a result of our immigration policies, High School had more Muslims in it, and many hated or criticized me for questioning the faith. As time went on, they became more toxic and vicious in their opposition, and so I called them out on their shit. I told them that I am on a journey like each and every one of them, and if they don't want to talk to me anymore, I would not care, and if they wanted to fight me, then bring it on. It was the last time any of them said anything to my face that was negative. Some of them never spoke to me again, some spoke to me less. I respected their choice and moved on; whether they respected mine mattered not. All that I cared about was that I felt that I was moving forward in my life. Eventually, the Muslim prayer group fell apart, and everything went back to normal in my High School.

Now, all of what I wrote happened about 10 years ago, and despite standing up to my fellow peers, I still haven't mustered up the courage to tell my parents. Honestly, I'm glad I still haven't. To this day, I have a good relationship with them, and they are far more religious now than they were. It seems like an egregiously unnecessary thing to do that will not only sour my relationship with them but also with their future grandkids. That just seems too selfish for my liking despite my usual vocal tendencies.

End of part 1.

#islam #atheism #lifestory #blog #religion #spirituality #reddit #journey

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jeanjauthor · 4 years ago

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It's not okay to use slurs, even in a historical context.

It’s not okay to use slurs...but we need to think about more than just the moment.

I think that we should follow Looney Tune’s example, regarding their “Golden Collection” cartoons. They now give a statement preceding each of these cartoons, saying in essence:

‘... some of the cartoons contain content that is politically incorrect by today's standards, but will be shown uncut and uncensored for historical reasons, "because removing these inexcusable images and jokes from this collection would be the same as saying [these prejudices] never existed".’

Whitewashing (in the sense of erasing) prejudices found in the past doesn’t help our present at all, in my opinion. We literally ignored racism as a culture (white culture) in this nation after the Civil Rights movement because we deluded ourselves into thinking “everything’s great now, racism is in the past!” Yet flamingly obviously it never was, and never will be so long as we cling to the idea of erasing our problems and denying our pains.

The most important difference between Germany and the rest of the world regarding the aftermath of WWII is that they made sure that each successive generation learned, and learned from, the horrors of the Third Reich, the Nazi regime, the Holocaust, and the callous disregard or willful obliviousness of themselves, their parents, their grandparents and great-grandparents, teaching these lessons from generation to generation.

To erase any bigotry or racism that happened once upon a time is to erase the pain the people in that era felt, the struggles that they survived...or did not survive. Yet to slap it in people’s faces is painful for today’s folks. So the best solution is to preface with the context, and to be willing to engage in good-faith dialogues about which things have changed, which have not, and what can be done to change our current culture for the better.

Ignoring a problem does not make that problem go away. It allows the garbage to rot and the old wounds to fester. To address a problem, you have to admit the problem exists, or existed, or will continue to exist if you don’t, y’know, acknowledge and address it.

The thing with writing historical stories is that we need to remember that it wasn’t a case of stark, blanket racism everywhere. Some people did try to address these problems. Not nearly enough (duh), but there were individuals, families, businesses, and even communities that chose to be welcoming rather than racist or restrictive. It’s not ahistorical to have your characters encountering racism (again, duh), but it’s also not ahistorical to have them combatting it, whether through direct confrontation or kindness.

If you’re quoting actual people in a factual historical account, it is wrong to leave out any racist slurs they might have used. But you do need to remind your readers that this was a previous era, and these days demand better behavior. If you’re writing a fictional story, the protagonists (good guys/gals) should definitely not use the slurs, and get upset when they are being used. Your story doesn’t have to have slurs of course...but the setting will dictate that far more than anything.

If it does contain slurs, then their use should be placed in both an historical context and a modern-day censuring, aka used only by those who are ignorant but correctable, or by villain characters. And if they are used, there does need to be a content warning (#cw) between the title page and the start of the story, a mention of what kind of content it is (just as for any other content warning or trigger warning content), and a variation of the Looney Tunes preface should definitely be used.

It’s easy to make the context clear to modern readers that bigoted behavior was not acceptable back then--no matter what the majority might have thought--and that it’s certainly no longer acceptable now, and to do so without erasing & thus denying all the suffering that the targetted folks in the past endured. If anyone has difficulty in doing so, they’ll simply need to practice, and need to pay sensitivity readers and need to listen to those advisors...or just stick to writing stories set in worlds without our massive widespread racism problems.

(Just be advised that no culture is completely unproblematic. Hell, even Star Trek with its quasi-utopian future of universal basic income, all needs met, etc was, is, and will never be 100% perfect.)

For that matter, no writer is perfect. I’ve written things in my past that stemmed from ignorance & obliviousness that I’m not pleased to admit I wrote. I won’t deny that I wrote them (especially the crap that got published). That would be wrong, and rude, and stupid. But I am (and will continue) trying to be a better person and a more conscientious writer.

I won’t erase the slurs of the past. I’ve been hurt by bigoted slurs (not racist but certainly fatphobic, homophobic, misogynistic, etc), and I don’t want anyone to erase and thus deny the pain I felt when those were inflicted upon me. How could I deny all those in the past who were discriminated against for those things and more? I’d be betraying my own feelings to deny such things happened. I’d be covering over an uncleansed wound, making it fester and sicken...and pretending it didn’t hurt me wouldn’t get others to stop doing it obliviously. (Can’t do anything about those who do it maliciously, but some folks just don’t realize it.)

I will put such things into context, I will quote bigoted assholes factually in non-fiction works...and if I’m writing fiction, I’m going to make it clear contextually to my readers that such behavior is villainous & reprehensible. It always was, and it always will be. Covering it up, ignoring it, pretending it never happened...will never fix the problem.

If we see something that is wrong, if we acknowledge its existence, then we have the chance to fix it.

I’m done burying my head in the sand, and I’m certainly not going to go around sticking my fingers in my ears, yelling “lalalalala, caaan’t hear youuuuu, it never haaappennnned!”

I’d rather fix things and move on...but also stay vigilant against old callous habits returning & resuming their unwanted bad behaviors.

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tespuco · 5 years ago

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PotC Liveblog: Dead Man’s Chest

I’d been looking forward to rewatching DMC for some time. It was the movie that canonized my OTP and inspired so many amazing Sparrabeth fics. I fondly recalled seeing it in theaters with my family, my eyes and shipper heart growing bigger and wider with every subtext-laden appearance of Jack’s compass. I remembered feeling personally betrayed by Elizabeth’s death-kiss, like the writers had deliberately buoyed my hopes only to ruthlessly crush them. Unlike CotBP, I had only seen DMC once before, and I couldn’t wait to appreciate the complicated Jack/Elizabeth dynamic with more mature eyes.

Boy, was I disappointed. Not by the Sparrabeth, thank the gods, but by literally everything else.

Is it just me or was this movie composed of a bunch of standalone scenes and set pieces strung together? Did they bring in Tim Burton just to direct the visuals of the interrupted wedding scene? Why does the Turkish prison sequence look like the opening cutscene to a high fantasy RPG videogame with the brightness setting turned down to zero?

OK I laughed at Jack popping out of the coffin and using a femur as a paddle, but I’m confused about everything else

Oh look, the crew’s on the verge of mutiny again, and this time it is Jack’s fault

Listen, I have Ted Elliott’s compass meta tattooed on my heart, but in retrospect the “Why is all the rum gone?” scene was probably too subtle. The audience doesn’t even know at this point how the compass is supposed to work. Maybe if they had the balls to actually include the deleted Sparrabeth scenes in CotBP, Jack’s emotional turmoil wouldn’t have seemed so opaque!

Still, a character being Vexed about their affections/feelings and doing a poor job of managing that vexation is my idea of high romance

(and both Jack and Elizabeth are quite vexed with each other indeed)

I CANNOT believe I had to sit through an uninterrupted half hour of racist filler that does absolutely fuck-all to advance the plot while ticking at least four boxes on my postcolonial bingo card what the fucking fuck

Let’s tally the cinematic sins: unfunny physical comedy in a style that would’ve been more suited to animation; indigenous cannibals speaking in unrealistic, buffoonish gibberish; said cannibals worshiping our hero (and later a dog) as a deity; and worst of all--

All the brown men that Gibbs hired as extras additional crew for the Black Pearl in DMC were put into a separate cage from the recurring white characters from CotBP (btw Anamaria is absent without even a throwaway line of explanation) because apparently even barbaric islanders know and practice segregation

And so segregated, the crew enters the stupidest, most contrived rat race up a cliffside with each other that ends with the brown people’s cage falling into the ravine THEREBY GETTING RID OF ALL THE CHARACTERS OF COLOR IN ONE FELL SWOOP

Also egregious racism aside, I’m put off by the film’s rather cavalier attitude towards gratuitous loss of life? Idk I feel like in the midst of all the action and adventure CotBP knew how to handle death and violence with the appropriate modicum of gravity and horror

Meanwhile on the island Gibbs is just like “oiya we’re standing in cages built from the bones of our former shipmates ha ha”

As for Jack - Jack has yet to save a cat or anything else besides his own skin, so he’s rapidly losing the goodwill he accumulated in the first film

holy shit yet another Elizabeth Swann-related realization about my sexual awakening: her look as a cross-dressing stowaway - pretty, delicate features in a boyish, flat-chested, slender form - is literally my sexuality

She’s literally pulling the strings of all the men on that ship! What a puppet-master queen

Tia Dalma’s interest in Will and the “touch of destiny” line is an interesting bit of foreshadowing that doesn’t get any payoff in this film. DMC and AWE have been criticized for being impossible to watch as standalone films, but I think there’s something to be said for a universe that strives for internal continuity and demands more than a casual investment in its proceedings (a related but distinct model from the MCU)

If you gave me half a reason to I would ship Jack Sparrow with anybody and everybody. Look at the flirtatious lines and looks he exchanges with Tia Dalma!! Give me that story! (Actually, artaxastra did, twice: once in her standalone Creole!Jack origin story, And All of Them True, and once again in Gods and Heroes, a Jack/Calypso interlude in her Outlaws and Inlaws ‘verse)

Tia Dalma’s acceptance (and release) of Jack’s payment for her services tells me two things about her that I really like: (1) she’s like a magpie that collects interesting miscellany (witty tricksters, cunning pirate lords, undead monkeys). and (2) she’s not interested in caging creatures (the foreshadowing!!)

FINALLY WE GET SOME JACK/ELIZABETH INTERACTION

God bless Keira’s face and acting choices!! The chemistry!! All the little smiles and smirks they share!!

How doth she look at thee? Let me count all the ways: her amused, tentatively credulous smile at Jack’s storytelling and posturing over a magical compass and chest, while Norrington scoffs disbelievingly in the background; her having to bite her lips and walk away before Jack notices her giddiness because she literally cannot handle their flirting; her little laugh as he gently rebuffs the idea that he’s a good man

Also “I have faith in you. Both of you,” were her parting words to Will and here she gets a chance to tell Jack in person yay

Their little dance of “persuasion” is hot and all (Jack literally looks like he has to bite back a groan and whimper), but I’m really here for the banter (“Friendly?” / “Decidedly not.”); they get each other, and, under the right conditions, can communicate so effortlessly

“Why doesn’t your compass work?” - alright so ofc I love the legendary “curiosity” exchange, but I’m so confused by the abrupt transition in their conversation here? Like why didn’t she follow through and tug on that line of inquiry?? The “Because you and I are alike” line that follows makes no logical sense in context (ETA: I guess it could suggest that Elizabeth already knows why the compass doesn't work for him, because he's torn between doing the right thing and the selfish thing... But at this point she doesn't suspect him of lying to her, so...idek)

“You’d never put me in a position that would compromise my honor” - my god what a TEASE my queer heart

Oh, Norrington, what’s happened to you?? What happened to serving others, not just himself?? :(( It kinda confuses me that he goes on about the “dark side of ambition” and the “promise of redemption” when he’s the one who voluntarily resigned from his post...

Norrington carrying both shovels while Jack just poses prettily though lol

JACK’S COMPASS FINALLY WORKS FOR HIM BECAUSE THE TWO THINGS HE WANTS MOST IN THE WORLD--THE CHEST AND ELIZABETH--ARE IN THE SAME PLACE AND HE KNOWS IT

idk I guess some people find the three-way swordfighting scene hilarious but I’m with Elizabeth on this one: men are stupid

ugh this script makes no sense

I’m so fucking confused by the narrative logic here: if Jones is dead, there’s no one to call off the Kraken?? But isn’t Jones the one calling the Kraken in the first place, to settle Jack’s debt? So if they killed Jones, wouldn’t the debt be null and void? NO JONES, NO KRAKEN, DUUUH.

OK but Jack is really unlikable in this film, last-minute “heroic” acts notwithstanding. Give me fix-it fics please

I mean it’s rather telling that by the time Jack returns to the Pearl there are only enough survivors to fill a single longboat. Oh yes he “saved them all” - the few that were left!!

This script has more holes in it than the Pearl does right now: everyone unquestioningly follows Will’s orders like he’s the captain (what happened to the dork who shouted, “Aye! Avast!”?? And there’s no evidence that since his engagement post-CotBP he’s practiced any sailing)

I mean it’s like no one but Elizabeth even noticed Jack was gone; the moment he comes back Gibbs chirps, “Captain, orders?” as if he never left. This coward just abandoned you all!!!

“It’s only a ship, mate.” - This is actually just the saddest line, and I’m glad Elizabeth was there to witness it because if there’s one thing she took away from their fireside conversation in CotBP it’s that the Black Pearl is more than a ship to Jack; what it really is is freedom, and here Jack’s set to lose both

And that’s what Elizabeth--not the Kraken--definitively takes from Jack: his freedom. Not just his ability to run away from his fate, but also the chance to take a stand and face it. (I like to think that, more than the murderous act itself, is what he finds so hard to forgive post-DMC. The darker Jack in salr323′s oneshot, Perfidy, written post-AWE, articulates this eloquently: “You know nothing of my debt, love, nor of my payment. But had you allowed me a nobler death, my account might have been lighter.”) His last act of defiance entails reclaiming what choice he has left: slipping slickly out of his shackles, hat on, “hello beastie,” into the monster’s maw.

Ugh they could have given Jack’s whole arc with Davy Jones such PATHOS instead of waiting until the very end--he struck a deal with the devil in all his youth and despair and hubris; now the bell is tolling and he realizes 13 years is nothing, no time at all, and he’s not ready to die; not today, not ever--yes it’s selfish and dishonorable (Will’s willing to square the debt of a father he hardly ever knew; he wouldn’t have blinked at paying his own) but how human is that? to fight and run even as the flames lick your heels?

omg Jack is the jackrabbit

The irony of that eulogy still gives me feelings tho: “Guess that honest streak finally won out.” Elizabeth wrested away Jack’s control over his own story, so now she has to write it for him. When she toasts, “He was a good man,” it’s in both unearned homage and recompense.

“And the world is a little less bright.” - OK but that’s too much. Moving words from Gibbs, but here it’s like he’s speaking directly to/for the audience, and not in a good way. It’s too obviously meta, and especially out of place in a film where Jack did not shine very bright at all

In-universe, it’s not very believable that two pirates like Pintel and Ragetti--who mutinied against Jack before, without a hint of remorse!--would now risk their lives to save him

Honestly if Disney wanted to include familiar faces/fan favorites in the supporting cast for AWE, they could’ve easily written a more realistic line like, “what the hell do we have to lose?” or some more selfish motive, none of these panegyrics

btw who are the native people standing in the swampwater? holding candles with mournful tears in their eyes?? no seriously who are they??? (I dearly hope such a striking tableau was meant to hint at Jack’s history with Tia Dalma and the residents of this bayou, but the more cynical part of me thinks: “Now hiring: extras of color, to play the part of human candlesticks lit in exaltation of an ambiguously white man” The writers get no benefit of the doubt from me after forcing me to sit through that cannibal island act)

It sounds sadistic of me but seeing how anguished Elizabeth is after claiming she’s not sorry gives me life

She keeps crying, and can’t even bring herself to drink Tia Dalma’s concoction against cold and sorrow! She just fakes a sip, which is such a great little character beat, because it shows she doesn’t think she deserves the remedy! She’ll just have to live with it...

That is, until Will decides he can’t stand the sight of her grief, and opens up Pandora’s box for her despite just catching her passionately kissing another man: “If there was anything to be done to bring him back, Elizabeth...” He really is too good for this world

And Elizabeth MUST know there’s a price, that she’d be staking not just her own life and happiness but her betrothed’s, and yet selfishly, always selfish, she says, “Yes”

BARBOSSA!!! Still the most epic character reveal ever. I still remember the theater bursting into gasps and applause, good times

#i've had this in my drafts folder for too long along with a whole bunch of dmc reblogs #it's time to air them out they're starting to stink #tl;dr i could've watched the youtube videos compiling the 12 minutes of jack/elizabeth interaction instead of the entirety of dmc #and i don't think i would've missed out on much #t-recs #the long and short of the meta #pirates of the caribbean

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polyamorousmisanthrope · 5 years ago

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Does it Work?

This is a paper I wrote in 2009 trying desperately to find the line between healthy, in-group behaviors and cult. It was inconclusive as hell.

In studying the alternative lifestyles and communities of the US in the past 200-odd years, there has been an attempt to judge whether or not these communities are good. That’s fine in the context of a rigid social system or system of morality against which it present a background or framework.

Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on your point of view, the United States of 2009 simply doesn’t have a single, unified code by which to judge the goodness or badness of a lifestyle. Oh, we agree that child molestation is wrong and revile the more excessive behaviors of a Warren Jeffs of the FLDS church, or a David Koresh. But for things less extreme than rape and murder, the line between “good” and “bad” becomes far more fuzzy.

Social traditionalists might bemoan the fuzzy line, cry “declining family values” or even “lack of faith in God”. This is a difficult point of view for a thoughtful student of social history to take seriously. Even as recently as the 1950s, the Leave it to Beaver snapshot of a household wasn’t exactly the real world that people were living. The author’s own grandfather worked three jobs during that time-period to support a family of six, and when the children were in school, his wife also went to work to be able to pay the expanded expenses of a household with four pre-teen and teenagers.

If people can idealize and romanticize times they actually lived through, how much easier it is to romanticize times of more than a century ago. We remember the family solidarity of Little House on the Prairie, but fail to internalize the desperate poverty of a family that could only afford two dresses for each child, that counted on fish from a creek three times a day to get through a summer, and a rearing that caused one of the children to feel she must go to work to pay her parents back for the expense of rearing her.

In the face of this romanticism, it is easy to cry “Traditional Family Values!” when confronted with a new problem of living such as Polyamory. However, that sort of answer, when faced with the realities of our changing society and its mores is worse than useless, as Traditional Family Values hearken back to an age that never actually existed. If it didn’t exist and work then, how could it be possible to make it exist and work now?

Polyamory is defined in the Oxford English Dictionary thus:

The fact of having simultaneous close emotional relationships with two or more other individuals, viewed as an alternative to monogamy, esp. in regard to matters of sexual fidelity; the custom or practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the knowledge and consent of all partners concerned.

This definition isn’t entirely accepted by everyone in the polyamory community, but as a writer in the polyamory community herself, the author personally considers it good enough to be going on with.

Polyamory, then, can just be considered an open alternative to sexual exclusivity. This is practiced in many ways by different people. Many married couples who are polyamorous might have their marriage, household, dog, kids and white picket fence, but also engage in romantic/sexual relationships outside of the marriage relationships. Others take it in a different direction – eschewing pair bonding and forming non-formal relationships. Yet others form group marriage. This relationship is often called a PolyFamily, and is probably the least common form of polyamorous relationship practiced.

So, does it work?

One could answer “yes and no”, but it would hardly be conclusive. Sometimes not. Margaret Hollenbach (Hollenbach) did not find her life in the Family in New Mexico very workable. Hollenbach had to be just about the classical “hippie”. College kid, white, from a relatively well-to-do background though with divorced parents – somewhat less common in the late 1960s and early 1970s than now. She joined the Family in Taos, New Mexico and found that the lifestyle and therapy sessions[1] reminiscent of the brainwashing techniques used by the Chinese government (Hollenbach 166). She also comments that her own experience did not include coercion in the classical sense. One was free to get up and walk away and there were no physical attempts at restraint.

However, one of the serious problems with any long-term live-in relationship that may or may not be workable is the fact that while one might not be physically restrained from leaving if it becomes unpleasant, unworkable or difficult, there are matters of social isolation, inertia, and the simple financial ties anyone has in a household that one must contend with. Historically, some communes, in a deep desire not to be coercive when it came to group membership have had a way to pay out members that wished to leave so that they would not feel financially tied to a group that they did not want to be with. The Shakers would allow a member who left to take any property that he had brought with him upon joining away, or give a monetary allowance to those who joined empty-handed. Few modern communes, poly or otherwise, have had such a forward-thinking view.

There is also the social isolation. If one lives in a group where the internal culture is “different”, there is an increased tendency towards Groupthink. Groupthink is generally characterized by premature concurrence seeking – high conformity pressures, self-censorship of dissenting ideas, mindguards and the maintenance of the image of unanimity (Forsyth 370). The ideals of marriage say that the happy, effective couple presents a united front. However good or bad this idea is, it becomes problematic in a group marriage situation.

At first, it might not seem so. That united front can be useful. Imagine being a car salesman and negotiating a loan among four people who can play off of each other and come together with the precision of watch gears while you have to answer each and every one of them all by yourself[2]. To be a member of such an effective team can be pretty heady.

But there’s a dark side. That groupthink? It’s very real. In the interests of the unified front, one can suppress one’s own dissenting opinions, find oneself weary of discussion and abdicate opinion in the interests of quiet. This is an example of something that doesn’t work for long.

The social isolation is often a problem as well. If one lives in a group marriage or other alternative relationship, one often finds that the internal frame of reference of the group is the one that’s turned to for a “reality check”. Choosing the left-hand path means that one occasional faces outside disapproval. The “us against them” view that one can develop within such a context, while entirely human and natural,[3] can be counter-productive for the individual health of individual members of a group.

In observing group relationships that work out well, a primary characteristic of any of them seems to hinge around personal privacy and, oddly enough, a high value placed on individuality. “The two (or three or four) shall become one” does not wear well in a polyamorous situation. The relationship and personal dynamic must be very different for it to work.

The Oneida Community had an inkling of this when it built its group home. Each adult member had his own small room. While they professed to value the group over anything, and diaries of the time talk of struggles with selfishness (Herrick 62), there was an understanding that a certain level of personal privacy and personal choice are very necessary to the happiness of a person within a group. Within the Oneida Community, there were people with varying interests and these interests were encouraged. Children were sent off to school away from the O.C., people often made trips to visit the “Outside”, as they called it, and there was a tacit understanding that one would choose for oneself how much to participate in the “social life[4]” of the Community. While it ultimately dissolved, keep in mind that the Oneida Community lasted for thirty years – a Methuselah among communes.

Modern marriage counselors now talk about this more and more often. In modern mental health literature, there is a strong theme of taking responsibility for one’s own needs instead of depending on another to meet them. This isn’t to say that we must blow off others’ needs and desires, nor that we have no responsibility to the people with whom we’ve formed relationships.

Each human being has freedom of choice over his or her own actions; all of us are accountable for our choices and their consequences. No other person can be responsible for the feelings that result from our choices, be they happy or sad. (Paul and Paul 212).

Recognition of this individual responsibility seems to be the key to happy interpersonal relationships of all sorts. While it might seem that it means that one could callously assert that if someone else is unhappy in the face of what’s going on that it’s his own problem, that extreme isn’t quite the way accepting personal responsibility for one’s own feelings and actions work. While it’s impossible actually to be responsible for another’s feelings, it’s also impossible to have a good relationship without caring about the other’s feelings as well. It’s an important balance.

Also required for good balance is the “what’s in it for me?” factor. There has to be some incentive for people to devote time/energy/money to almost anything, and they have to feel like they’re getting a good trade out of it. A housewife, putting in long hours to create a beautiful and comfortable home, might be compensated by a spouse with more free time to earn a higher salary. That spouse might be glad to have a well-run home and be relieved of housekeeping responsibilities. While a very “traditional” view, it’s one that works out in practice as well[5]. In communal situations larger than a family, a credit system where work means something tangible tends to work out better than an “from each according to his abilities, to each according to his needs” situation. The founder of Twin Oaks in Louisa, VA commented, “Nowadays, I think you need some personal incentive to put out your best in the work scene.” (Kuhlmann 126)

The poly families that work out the best do seem to be families where there is a high regard for individualism and privacy, as well as a strong vested interest in each member of the group finding the relationship a fulfilling, perhaps even profitable, one.

Works Cited

Forsyth, Donelson R. Group Dynamics. Belmont: Wadsworth, 2005.

Herrick, Tirzah Miller. Desire and Duty at Oneida : Tirzah Miller’s Intimate Memoir. Ed. Robert S. Fogarty. New York: Indiana University Press, 2000.

Hollenbach, Margarget. Lost and Found : My Life in a Group Marriage Commune. New York: University of New Mexico Press, 2004.

Kuhlmann, Hilke. Living Walden Two : B. F. Skinner’s Behaviorist Utopia and Experimental Communities. New York: Univeristy of Illinois Press, 2005.

Paul, Jordan and Margaret Paul. Do I Have to Give up Me to Be Loved by You? Grand Rapids: Hazelden & Educational Services, 2002.

[1] They used a form of Gestalt therapy as a means of social cohesion.

[2] This actually happened in my own quad. One of the former members still owns and drives that car!

[3] There are few things better for group cohesion than a common “enemy”, as history has proven more than once.

[4] The expression “social life” in the Oneida Community was a euphemism for sexual relationships.

[5] When I worked full time, while I did do housework at home, having a housewife there for primary childcare duties was a great boon to my ability to focus on my job!

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lelandrussell-blog · 5 years ago

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How One Courageous Choice Changed the Course of My Life

"You can choose courage, or you can choose comfort, but you cannot choose both." ~ Brené Brown

I’ve had an amazing life with many wonderful moments. I've also experienced challenging Transitions, moments when I had to face the fact that a phase of my life was ending.

One of those Transitions came in the late 1980s when the business that I'd been building for years with a close-knit team was no longer viable. What had been working, no longer worked. An era was ending.

Ready or not, I was now in Transition. William Bridges, the author of The Way of Transition, says there are three phases: Endings, The Neutral Zone, Beginnings.

The Neutral Zone was the most challenging for me. It was difficult living in limbo between a known past and an unknown future. I felt like I was locked in a car stuck in neutral. No matter how hard I tried, I could not engage the gears. I could not move forward.

The best advice I’ve ever heard about how to break free from the Neutral Zone came from Steve Jobs:

“Have the COURAGE to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become.”

Listen to The Whispers

Late one night I was explaining my predicament to my older and wiser mentor. "I'm trying as hard as I can to figure out what to do, but I'm stuck. I'm worried about my future. I'm losing faith."

After a pregnant pause, she leaned over and spoke softly in my ear. "The solution is simple, Leland."

“Stop the noise for a while and listen to the whispers. If you don’t, you will miss many important messages.”

I took her advice. By relaxing physically and mentally, I stopped the noise in my mind. I learned to cultivate calm and listen for the whispers. It took a while but finally, I heard one message very clearly: "Do something totally new. Do something bigger and better than you’ve ever done before.”

Unfortunately, that was all I got ─ a message with three key words: "New, Bigger, Better." It certainly lacked the specificity I was hoping for. It did, however, cause me to focus my thinking on a key question: What would be totally new for me?

I pondered that question for several weeks with no results. Then, another whisper, one word: LEADERSHIP. That was broad, but it was enough for me to shift my mind out of neutral and engage my creative gears.

I moved into learning mode. I read some great leadership books, like On Becoming a Leader by Warren Bennis, and The Female Advantage: Women’s Ways of Leadership by Sally Helgesen. I subscribed to respected periodicals, like the Harvard Business Review. I attended conferences that focused on leadership.

At my first conference, there were compelling presentations and drill-down workshops on a wide range of topics. Hearing diverse perspectives about leadership from some of the smartest people in the field really fired my neurons, but it also left me feeling overwhelmed.

Absorbing so much knowledge in one dose had a definite downside — once my cognitive capacity was surpassed, the additional knowledge was just noise.

After the conference, I reflected on what happened. Was the problem merely too much knowledge in one dose? Maybe that was a part of it, but I sensed there was something else — the way I was "downloading" the knowledge. Everything was flowing into one big file folder in my mind in no particular order. It was a mess.

After doing some research, I concluded that the real problem was between my ears. I had no mental model, no master cognitive framework to help me organize, prioritize, and apply the knowledge I was downloading. This core concept ultimately affected everything that followed.

Something Bigger and Better

By learning relentlessly about leadership, I was following through on the first part of what my heart and intuition had whispered to me: “Do something totally new.” But I had not yet addressed the second part of the message: “Do something bigger and better than you’ve ever done before.” I wondered what that could be.

There were several possibilities and they all aligned around the theme of leadership and the critical importance of mental models.

To put what happened next into context, let's time travel back to 1989. It was the beginning of an era of unprecedented change unleashed by the end of the cold war. The world had become more volatile, uncertain, complex and ambiguous than ever before. What did this mean for leaders?

I remembered feeling overwhelmed by too much knowledge during my first leadership conference. I suspected that leaders might be having a similar problem dealing with the avalanche of new knowledge about how to manage change. That insight triggered the choice that changed the course of my life.

I would design and deliver an innovative leadership forum. It would provide leaders with a mental model for responding to the global change forces unleashed by the end of the cold war.

Looking back, it’s clear that it was a courageous choice because I was a novice in the field of leadership. I had no scholarly credentials or personal contacts who could give me advice. I was on my own sailing into the unknown.

In short, I had no idea HOW I would design and deliver an innovative leadership forum. I did, however, have self-confidence and I believed what W.H. Murray, the Scottish mountaineer, had said:

“Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it!”

The bold idea was to create a macro mental model for responding to global change. I soon came up with one — The GEO Paradigm™.

"GEO" was an acronym for the three global change forces reshaping the world: Globalization, Empowerment, and Orchestration of Technology.

"Paradigm" is a way of perceiving the world. It frames the boundaries of your attention and defines the rules for success within the boundaries.

After that, just as W.H. Murray predicted, magical things began to happen.

My friend, William Shatner, agree to support the idea financially and be the spokesman. His involvement led to major organizations — Motorola, General Electric, Northern Telecom, and several others — becoming sponsors. Then, Fortune magazine agreed to promote it.

With that extraordinary support in place, thought leaders from a variety of fields agreed to contribute their insights. I spent several months conducting video interviews with over 80 of them — CEOs, prominent authors, top executive educators, and even a presidential candidate, Bill Clinton.

The format for the forum was, as intended, truly innovative. A multidisciplinary creative team helped me actualize the vision of a one-day "Knowledge Concert". The key GEO learning points were illuminated with panoramic multimedia sequences, thought leader insights on video, music-image videos, and stage scenes with live actors. All of this was grounded by short, single point presentations, small group dialogues, and an elaborate 100-page "Handbook for the Future" with application knowledge organized under three tabs — The Future Now, Blueprints for Success, Resources for Action.

When we delivered the GEO Paradigm™ Knowledge Concert to over 600 senior leaders, the response was overwhelmingly positive.

Click here to see a 2-minute video overview of the forum.

When we asked participants what most appealed to them about the GEO Paradigm™ Knowledge Concert, the responses fell into three categories:

The ‘stickiness’ of the G-E-O acronym. It accomplished exactly what I had intended — it embedded a macro mental model that helped leaders make sense of the world that was then unfolding.

Actionable Knowledge for Mastering Change. Fortune magazine described the forum as an “advanced corporate education program to prepare senior management for the challenges of change.”

A Synthesis of Emerging Leadership Practices. One of the attendees summed it up this way: “They’ve have taken years of experience, results, and good concepts, and put all into a one-day presentation. It’s an amazing event.”

What A Difference A Day Makes

The ‘word of mouth’ about the one-day forum triggered ripple effects that continued for several years. Here are a few examples:

Over 1000 organizations around the world licensed the leadership development video —Tearing Down the Walls: The GEO Change Forces — that was created from the Knowledge Concert™ content.

General Motors licensed the GEO Change Forces video as the centerpiece of a series of change management workshops that ultimately reached 57,000 GM managers.

AT&T invited me to deliver a keynote address for a national leadership meeting on managing change. They also licensed the GEO Change Forces video to use in a series of large-scale events that the CEO held across the country to ‘rally the troops’ to deal with the challenge of change.

National associations in a variety of fields engaged me to customize GEO Paradigm™ Knowledge Concerts for their annual conferences and produce follow-up video learning packages for their members.

Last, but certainly not least, was the founding of GEO Group Strategic Services. Its initial mission was to help leaders meet change-related challenges and opportunities.

The firm has been the most enduring ripple effect. GEO Group Strategic Services is now celebrating its 30th anniversary.

There are three leadership lessons in this Knowledge Byte:

EXPECT TRANSITIONS - At points in your life, you will experience the challenge of Transition, moments when an era of your life is ending. A Transition has three phases: Endings, The Neutral Zone, Beginnings. The Neutral Zone is the most challenging because for a time you will be living in limbo between a known past and an unknown future.

CHOOSE COURAGEOUSLY - When you are in Transition, you must decide where to go next. Steve Job's advice is to “have the COURAGE to follow your heart and intuition." Brené Brown points out that "You can choose courage, or you can choose comfort, but you cannot choose both."

CHOICES HAVE RIPPLE EFFECTS - A choice you make during a Transition can have ripple effects that go far beyond what you might imagine. In my story, one courageous choice changed the course of my life. But every choice, even small ones, also have ripple effects.

________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading this GEO Knowledge Byte™. I'd appreciate hearing from you.

If you add a comment below, I’ll get back to you.

Leland Russell | Founder & CEO | GEO Group Strategic Service

#leadership #strategic planning #performance #growth solutions

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rennyji · 3 years ago

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July 20th tweets...

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“Aaryan” is another one of those Mohanlal movies from the place of my background. I saw this late in life, and during the phenomena, several times, I would mention to my mother, and especially father, about the parallels. In the movie, Mohanlal’s character is a devout Hindu Brahmin from a respected family. He’s happy with his life and has a girlfriend, in a woman he’s known since childhood. Men not respecting societal roles and in greed for money and power, wrongfully set up the family in a crime of their planning. Mohanlals character loses his family to death and humiliation, as well as his home, and his girl friend also, in the actress, Shobhana. He flees to Mumbai, where he follows a very earthly path centered on money and attaining that money through jobs, where his philosophy is “Ill do anything for money.” He sinks himself in alcohol and the company of gangsters and joins them. Once obtaining enough money, he avenges the wrong doers against his family and seeks to restore his family’s lifestyle and “way of living.”

I guess I remember that movie because he was minding his own business, when people rooted in jealousy and greed, wanted to steal that from him. And me, after more than a decade of “lightly and carefully portrayed to the public” abuse, I can’t help but think, wasn’t I minding my own business?

For my sectionalistic brethrens who identify through the body parts, rather than the overall body that is the country, as you forgot about order, structure, unity, brought about through ancient Hinduism, for a visual example: think the movie, “Koyla.” Shah Rukh Khans character get turned into a mute and a servant by the people who killed his parents, from greed, for stumbling on their fortune of diamonds in this life. To save Madhuri Dhixits character, and to restore his dignity, he takes revenge on those who took decades of his life. I guess what I’m getting at is, from Koyla, you can see just how evil some men truly are. Even in real life, some people will take decades from your life. Before killing you, they’ll turn you into the court jester for their people and they may even shock your brains 20 times to make you more numb and compatible for mind control/mind reading.

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In Mark 4:33-34

33 “With many such parables he spoke ithe word to them, as they were able to hear it. 34 He did not speak to them without a parable, but privately to his own disciples he explained everything.So Christ talked to everyone in parables, and said, let those with ears hear. However he discussed the parables with his disciples, in private, elaborating on their meaning.Here I am, in the present day, a nobody, trying to elaborate on meanings and about living a life with meaning. But my own mother, instead of listening intently, will talk about toilets or do something involving uncleanliness, when I talk to her about things of God. My father prays and prays (though mechanically, without heart, without understanding meaning), and yet he fails to see and respect my seriousness in willful words and actions, based on faith. He’s so busy talking about defending what he as a father does, he fails to see that I’m enduring this, simply because of the hand of God carrying me, when the infidel tries to figuratively break my legs.I can see why Christ elaborated on heavenly things with just his disciples. Other people wouldn’t give it the respect it deserves (through talking about random things like toilets or whatever) or would let it fly over their heads as something nice sounding and tantalizing.

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Orchestrator government group 1 tries to piss me off to say things or write things about them, so that the child like voices rooted in perhaps the party school I attended (for completion of my undergraduate) makes it about them or me randomly addressing people who aren’t direct with me.

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I dunno I think I’m being led to think that I’m not seeing “this situation” in the way it’s projected to others…ok guys, lemme walk with you on this, let’s take a deep breath and digest the fact that this has been going on for more than a decade- I mean that alone, if nothing else, is horrendous…so am I disillusioned?

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So I keep telling you guys to refrain from taking part in this, and to only help me by talking directly to me- especially about the situation. I tell you take a load off and just be natural in your interactions without hiding that this happened/is happening.

Yet, for one thing, some of you may try to assist me on the road under one or more things that you have been led to see me through- that goes back to my talk about mental filters…

If something tells you guys that I’m about to change a lane unnaturally, it results in the following:

The guy in front of me will abruptly slow down, while I’m checking my mirrors to the other lane, leaving me to still drive forward, while the guy in front of me is instructed to slow down. Kinda malicious of the orchestrators, don’t you think? Two cars risk colliding…

But then sometimes, I notice cars in the other lanes, accelerate, as I’m about to change lanes, while others leave significant space.

Please just follow the rules of the road and stop relying on external knowledge when making your decisions on the road.

Some of you may be instructed to smile a particular way (smiling is great if it’s not rooted in an instruction), frown a particular way, nod to me from the corner of my eye…see, think about it from my perspective. I have mind cr*p- to be very very very general- to deal with all day. When you have too many programs open on your computer, doesn’t it freeze or become unresponsive? Whether by design or carelessness, despite my effort to get you to be direct with me, these indirect things to make me think one thing or the other, are meant to overload my brain-the orchestrators just give me stuff to pick up on, where I have no idea what’s it’s about. I may have written something before that frown or whatever. Is that supposed to make me think ur unhappy with me for you allegedly eavesdropping into my life and making things about you, the stranger, when you don’t even follow me on Twitter or Facebook?

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I heard the following: DMX- Party Up- from the lyrics,

So whatever it is you puffin' on that got you think that you Superman (doing this for a decade)

I got the Kryptonite, should I smack him with my dick and the mic?

Y'all niggas is characters, not even good actors (ur a bunch of cocky arrogant losers)

What's gon' be the outcome? Hmm, let's add up all the factors

I keep saying there’s two sides to every coin. But you like to tip that scale. Always remember how much of an a*shole he is, more than any crazy, for starters, to put such statements/sentences out in public- that too when the world is monitoring every aspect of me…I mean I could be giving the police or some legal case against me, a ball for their courts through my recorded words and written statements- so in response, I’m in a rap mood:

Eminem says

Go call you a lawyer, file you a lawsuit

I'll smile in the courtroom and buy you a wardrobe

I'm tired of all you, I don't mean to be mean

But that's all I can be, it's just me

I realize these guys(artists)all deal with stupid people like the orchestrators while the larger audience of the world “say oh that’s mean” without context (what was preceding, what was said and done, and what occurred after)

At the end of this, either the orchestrators or me, will be progressing forward in in peace and happiness. Im making that clear, I’m throwing in all my cards, because no matter how numb you make me, my hate accumulating over a decade will find its nourishment. So Have fun, f*ers…

and to the larger audience, lemme guess “oh no he’s mad…what happened…awww” yeah ummm thanks for never talking to me, but thanks for the sentiment too.

Contrary to how I’ve been living for more than a decade, word of advice to the world: “Show the other cheek, talk out your problems, write 300 pages with variations of the idea of returning to normalcy in one chapter in life in an official police complaint, endure a decade, and hope for a solution- this can only be done for so long, and a decade? F* that sh*t. Orchestrators? F* ur wives, husbands , and Kids..

hey guys, when someone is giving YOU a hard time, please be like me and Let them shock your brain 20 times too, for talking about the hard time, so that you can show that you have no decency and are willing to bend over for them, for the sake of “compliancy.” Next time the F* fake protectors of the law, who don’t protect the rights of an American citizen(wtf does ur Stars and Stripes flag stand for? The red and white ropes they bind you down with in life? Are the 50?!stars on ur flag about ninja stars you throw at ur country’s victims? Maybe the 50 is about, how they’ll screw you 50 times over for minding ur own business i.e always remember: nice guys finish last…maybe the red is about how the country likes to make you bleed/watch you bleed/and entertain others on how you bleed while you try to stand strong)…but where was I? Next time the F* fake protectors of the law, who don’t protect the rights of an American citizen want come in 4 SUVs and make you walk barefoot, for talking about “the situation” ur not supposed to know about daily, be mindful, you will be on the list, when I gain back my authority. Bear in mind the respect enforced, actually needs to be earned through effort and not by a rough voice or tough exterior.

Peepz , when law enforcement engages in a circus, makes remorseful random faces fo you while, get this: simultaneously, engaging in madness, when the FBI engages in silence to make you America’s prostitute of a servant of a hero/icon,

please,

never follow my example.

If any of you get out into a fraction of my problem, don’t waste your health, ur dignity. At times, fists and kicks are the only answer. I went about my life reporting things to authorities, dreaming about best friending a girl in college and marrying her…the works…-if respect can’t be earned or given because some infidel playing or being a false god commands it, “seize respect. “

You can’t waste time on some superficial high ideal high minded losers.

So I keep talking about mental exhaustion…you still actually do the same things, over and over…- so I’m supposed to fall. What’s the matter orchestrators? Could t f*me in the a*s while standing strong? You need me to collapse or be on a stretcher? Would a tempur pedic be ok when you stop most likely molesting ur kids? F*ers…

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So I was listening to “Sam’s Gone” from “I Am Legend,”

And I remembered the powerful end scene from I Am Legend…listen and watch 37 seconds into this clip till the end:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7LsxKkh0zg

Starting from 37 seconds, Will Smiths character says “They’re not gonna stop…they’re not gonna stop…” those coincidentally white horrific mutations of humans, in their mindlessness, their aggression, their lack of heart and compassion, remind me of the police officers who made me walk barefoot, it reminds of some party school professors, it reminds of the orchestrators rooted in the mind cr*p - after a decade, I’ve come to acceptance that “they’re not gonna stop.”

For 10+ years of slavery, further indignified by turning me into a joke,

That moment where Will Smiths character and the mutated man (symbolizing an American orchestrator) race to battle towards each other - man…after a decade plus of provoking me, literally 24/7…when we’re finally face to face, I want to see what he/she has the balls to do. De palabra de espanol: “Ver”, ”, mi gentes, “Ustedes Ven la cara de el Diablo blanco.”

Regarding that moment, when the orchestrators and me race toward each other, win/lose, it’ll be like this from 300:

ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XOLpIkoS0QY

You, orchestrators may have the big guns, may have humanity following ur instructions, but like many before me, it’ll be like these two segments from the below 300 movie clip: 1:02- 1:50, 2:12-2:57

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qubItQjdSHA

In a deep state of mind to what transpired years ago, I said that I will get justice. Am I’m saying it again. You, the American orchestrators, turn mankind into one team in conviction and practice against me, you’ll torment me for a decade plus…maybe even destroy me after humiliating me-as is American military style.

Just know this: I, an Indian man, fated to suffer this “situation” in your country, will come back lifetime after lifetime, to finish what you started with me in this epoch of time, where you seek to conquer the Kingdom of God, that resides in every conscious mind wanting peace.

Orchestrators,ur quite welcome to see me as that cockroach who just won’t die or stay dead.

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howyoutalktostrangers · 4 years ago

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This interview was originally published by the Humber Literary Review

So,

Yasuko Thanh is an acclaimed short story writer and novelist from Victoria, B.C. After winning the Journey Prize for her short story about an island leper colony, “Floating like the Dead”, she went on to gain wide acclaim for her historical Vietnam-based novel The Mysterious Fragrance of the Yellow Mountains. Her work often features spiritual or fantastical elements, as well as brutality and violence, and fixates on those who exist just outside the margins of polite society. Her latest is a memoir called Mistakes to Run With that details her upwards ascent from teenage prostitute to literary icon.

The Humber Literary Review’s Will Johnson caught up with Yasuko to talk about George Orwell, what it’s like to leave Christianity behind, and how it feels to be truly naked in public.

HLR: George Orwell once said “Autobiography is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful. A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying.” I thought about his words while reading your book, where it seems like you’re relentless about unearthing all your past foibles and sins for everyone to see. I admire your dedication to the truth, to introspection, but I wonder what compelled you to complete this public moral inventory.

Why share your darkest secrets and shames with such a huge audience?

YT: When I started writing this memoir, I was still in therapy after a stay in the psych ward. It was Christmas of 2016, and in a six months period I’d won the Roger’s Writers’ Trust Prize and been abandoned by my husband of nine years. Now it was Christmas and my new anti-psychotic meds were addressing the worst of my mental illness symptoms. I no longer spent each day contemplating how to take my life, so I stopped going to therapy, and convinced myself that the writing of the memoir could serve as a replacement for Dialectical Behaviour Therapy. All my life, writing has been a sort of processing mill for experience so this idea, of writing as pseudo-therapy, was nothing new.

I used my experiences to shed light on certain issues. I wanted to examine the stigmatization of street-workers, and its contribution to a social milieu in which violence against sex workers has flourished. The experiences didn’t have to me mine per se but they were the ones I was most intimate with. Stories come from everywhere but the best ones often come from our own lives, what we think and feel, who and what we care about.

At the time of the Pickton murders, the city of Vancouver propelled a harmful myth: that street workers were less valuable than other people. This thinking, this stigmatization of a group, was an obstacle to safer working conditions for them, and created the kind of environment on Vancouver’s downtown eastside from which nearly 60 women went missing.

Various studies have looked at why adolescents start selling sex. At the time I was working the streets, I often felt that Social Services and the legal system had driven me to it. I’d been denied Independent Living – welfare for youth under eighteen – I’d been jailed for shoplifting and could no longer maintain my career as a "booster." I had seen friends arrested and forced by the police to violently choke up whatever acid or hash they had stashed in their mouth. The sex workers I saw wore fur coats and red pig skin boots.

Money was the trade off for the conflicts I would experience with the law and abusive customers and pimps.

I spent much of my career in the sex trade in Vancouver.

From the age of fifteen onward, my life included prostitution, arrests, drugs, an abusive relationship, and struggles with mental health. In 1998, when I realized I was pregnant with my first child, I began to examine my past and consider what I wanted my future to be like. What would I tell my child about the kind of person I was?

The seeds for the memoir were planted back then.

My hope with this book was to begin a dialogue about the continued criminalisation of street-imbedded youth. A new model for understanding is needed, because their criminalisation entrenches them further in street life without addressing the social issues that put them there in the first place. I’d love for this book to spur a dialogue between legislators and the people for whom the skills and attitudes of the streets are logical means of survival. I’d love to contribute in some small way to the struggle for tolerance and open-mindedness.

HLR: In an interview with the Vancouver Sun, you said that you hate the “role of victim into which the sex-traded are often cast — because of all the accompanying pity”. I thought one of the most striking and refreshing elements of your memoir was that you never moralized about sex work, or wrote condescendingly about the people you met during that time. It was simply a choice you made, and a milieu you existed within, before moving on. That being said, the danger and violence associated with that lifestyle clearly took its toll both on you and others you love.

With all the stigma and misunderstanding surrounding the industry, is there something you’d like the average citizen to understand about that world?

YT: During the mid-1980s, right when I was entering the sex trade, working in both Victoria and Vancouver, I remember being chased from sidewalks with a garden hose, and men and women marching with placards. I hid behind dumpsters and waited for the mobs to clear. I was engaged with a profound feeling of puzzlement that people could be so self-assured without even knowing me or my name.

One night, when I was about eighteen-years-old, I was sitting with my friend Frances in a diner called the Korner Kitchen, on the same corner where we caught dates, the corner of Richards and Helmcken. We drank coffee in the vinyl-seated booth; she stirred in her sugar and licked the spoon before laying it on the table. Neither one of us could see ourselves turning tricks forever, and we shared the conviction that we’d be good at a multitude of things, if we only had a chance to try them. She wanted to be a teacher, could see herself in that role.

“But I wonder about a criminal record,” I said.

Both of us had one.

“With the kind of work you want to do,” she said, knowing I wanted to be a writer, “it won’t matter, anyway.”

The British philosopher and writer Iris Murdoch said that the goal of every writer was to cultivate what she called “true sight,” the ability to recognize other people really exist. I’m currently reading The Wisdom of the Body by Sherwin B. Nuland. In his chapter on “Biology, Destiny, and Free Will” he quotes Percy Bysshe Shelley. “Without imagination of another’s mind there can be no understanding of the other and therefore no love, and without love there can be no morality.” To be good, he says, is to imagine intensely and comprehensively the pains and pleasures of others. The great secret is love, or a going out of our own nature, an identification of ourselves with the other.

The intimate tone of a memoir made it the ideal genre to negotiate such intensely personal material, and I hope it gives people the means to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes.

I guess what I’d like people to understand is that we/they have names. We have parents, siblings, spouses, children. To understand that “there but for the grace of God, go I.” That everyone has an identity outside of the roles we play even if, or maybe especially if, that role is dealer, junkie, prostitute, panhandler, street kid, etc.

HLR: You were raised within an evangelical Christian context, but left the church and your faith behind as a teenager. This is a painful and confusing process, one that I went through, that often leaves people without something to replace their beliefs with. Have you ever been successful at filling the God-shaped hole? And is there any sort of spirituality you embrace?

YT: The spirituality I embrace is my personal religion of honouring anything and everything that spurs my writing. I deal with any number of doubts on a regular basis. Will I be good enough? Is what I have to say worth saying? Will anybody care?

It’s enough to stop you in your tracks.

But stopping isn’t the same as quitting.

And what keeps me going, and writing, is, at its core, akin to religious faith.

Writing is what helps me battle the daily truth that people are separated by vast distances. And one of my main motivations, one of the reasons I write, is because it helps me capture something from the inexorable, outward flow of time. It’s nothing less than a fight against my own mortality, and a balm against my sadness at the transience of all things.

“No man writes except to get out of hell,” Antonin Artaud wrote from an insane asylum.

I have to strongly believe in what I’m doing or I can’t do it.

Toni Morrisson, expressing a similar dichotomy, wrote that love “is or it ain’t. Thin love ain’t love at all.” That sums it up nicely.

I write all chips in, plunging ahead confidently, blindly, without real proof that anything will come of it, though maybe being published is a little bit like proof that one is on the right track -- but you can’t wait for signs. My belief or practice is based more on a type of apprehension: that, if I don’t write, something bad may happen.

I’m not sure what.

Maybe I’d stop being me. Or I’d go insane. Or the sky would fall. Not-writing is my version of hell.

I love the Wallace Stevens quote that goes: “After one has abandoned a belief in God, poetry is that which takes its place as life’s redemption.”

Reading can be a spiritual act, in the way it affects the soul. Writing, for me is a way of expressing my hopes and wishes, and in that sense, it is a form of prayer.

HLR: I’m working on a memoir at the moment, and one of the constant concerns is whether or not I’m honestly depicting the people involved—especially if the truth is less than flattering. I know you’ve changed some names, and utilized a composite character, but I’m sure there are people from your past who could potentially read your work and take issue with what you’ve written. How did you navigate these concerns while writing Mistakes to Run With, and how did you decide what to include and what not to?

YT: As you’ve pointed out, the people who share our lives may have very different opinions from us about what is appropriate and what is not to include in a work on nonfiction. I did ask one of my children about a specific episode in their life and whether they would feel comfortable with me sharing the story. They didn’t. So, out of respect for them, I didn’t include it in the book. However, the rest of my family and friends were fair game.

That said, my aim was not to vilify anyone, because that’s bad writing, and I even pulled some punches with the intent of creating well-rounded characters. Good writing portrays character with all its complexity intact. Though, I’m sure there are people out there who are angry about things I wrote about. My answer to them is, Write your own book. I knew well in advance that I wasn’t going to let friends or family read it before it was published. I didn’t want to be swayed by their comments. I didn’t want to censure myself. I think writing by consensus is kind of a terrible idea. Post-publication, I’m happy to talk to anyone who takes issue, but the idea of being vetted beforehand?

I think the prospect of allowing friends and family to sound in with their evaluations and appraisals of the work would make me too nervous to write at all.

HLR: I love how diverse your work is, and how you seem to effortlessly jump genres. Your next novel is about Julia Pastrana, a 19th-century woman born with a genetic condition that resulted in abnormal growths of hair all over her body. I’m curious whether you’re purposefully challenging yourself to try new things, or if inspiration just happened to take you there. How did you land on this particular premise?

YT: That particular idea came about at a time I was reading a lot of books on so-called “freaks.” One book I remember in particular was A Cabinet of Medical Curiosities but Jan Bondeson. I came across Julia Pastrana’s story in there. What intrigues me about her story is the fact that she married her manager and toured across Europe and North America, even meeting royalty according to some versions. The hook (for me) is the way the story can be read one of two ways: her manager was just another kind of pimp who married her and told her he loved her to keep his paycheck close to home, or he was a man who, despite her unlikely appearance, was able to look past her outer shell and see her, love her, for who she was...I like the idea of playing with both versions, and having portions of each stand in for the truth. I like the idea of, perhaps, the truth being unknown even to Pastrana and her manager.

We’re, all of us to varying degrees, mysteries to ourselves, often acting on our feelings whose origins lie in conflicting places. In these apparent dichotomies is where people come most alive for me. These contradictions in ourselves -- that’s when characters come most alive for me.

But here’s where I’m going to burst your bubble. That project has been put on the back-burner. Right now I’m working on two other projects. One is a collection of short stories with the working title, Death Rituals for a Modern Age. The other is a novel set in the present day, tentatively called, The Administration of Elementary Hopes. They share common themes of love and death (what else?) and I’m trying to lighten the load of the material through the use of dark humour, and in the case of the novel, the structure and tropes of the Gothic tale.

HLR: Quill & Quire once quoted you saying “a good scream is worth a whole couple of months of therapy.” You were speaking about your musical projects, including your neo-punk band 12 Gauge Facial. I imagine the artistic impulse involved in creating your music is different than the much slower-paced process of writing a book. How does music fit into your artistic practice?

YT: The artistic impulse involved in creating music is different than the much slower-paced process of writing a book. Music fits into my artistic practice like a really good chocolate bar between meals. It’s one of the things I do between writing different works, or to jog something loose.

It also gives me a chance to express in greater depth things that continue to haunt but that were glossed over in the memoir. You can’t fit everything into the pages of a book. If I had it would have made a better doorstop than a book. The original plan was to release an album at the same time as the memoir. My idea was that it could form a kind of soundtrack for the book -- but, alas, money and time conspired against me. That said, the project hasn’t been abandoned. Only postponed. I have sixteen original tracks that I’m hoping to release at some point in the near future.

HLR: I really appreciated the conclusion of your book, though I won’t share any spoilers here. What I appreciated about your approach was that you didn’t tie things up with a tidy bow, claiming your life issues are resolved, but rather acknowledged that you continue to be a work-in-progress (as we all are) with problems to face. Life doesn’t have endings, really, and neither does your book. Did you have to resist the urge to include a “What I’ve Learned” passage to the end?

YT: Resisting the urge wasn’t hard — in fact, I fought against this type of ending. Initially, the memoir ended many years earlier than the version which iI published. Both my editor and agent urged me to look at the material again, and consider extending the narrative up to the present day. In the end, I agreed to have the ending of the book coincide with the Rogers Writers Trust prize, and I’m happy I did so. But rather than have the book end with a Frank Capra-esque moment, where we know that everything from here on in is going to be rosy, I wanted to convey the sense that, as you said, life doesn’t have endings and we all are continuously working on ourselves by squarely facing our problems. I attempted to do this structurally, in terms of chapter headings, and through repetition of certain key lines or phrases.

I’m glad you think it worked.

The Literary Goon

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musings-from-alexithymia · 4 years ago

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Meta Reflection: Part Two

My freshman year of undergrad I became very close with one of my professors-Len. He witnessed me enter my first semester of college with a fire of certainty about my path personally and professionally. As the semester went on, the flames of certainty began to flutter from the winds of change, new ideas, unexpected realities, and an onset of self-discovery I did not expect.

How could I expect it? I thought I had it all figured out.

That was it. The idea of having it all figured out is what set me of course from my own sense of stability-because, in my head, how could anything ever go awry? By the end of the semester I changed from having a declared major to undecided, and registered for all elective courses for the spring. Dissatisfied and afraid of my own self, I found my mind and soul in conversation with Len, frustrated that all my plans have fallen to pieces.

To give you a better sense of just how challenging that was for me, school was the only thing I ever felt in control of, it was the only thing that brought me joy, it was where I found love and comfort. I found friendship in academics instead of other humans. Learning and academic success was the only thing I was able to connect to - it was the only thing I could trust to connect to and didn’t feel afraid of. Sitting in Len’s office at the end of that first semester, in tears about my path, academically and personally, he said to me, “Joanna, I am more concerned about the people who have it all figured out than those who feel completely lost”.

It’s been nearly a decade since that conversation and I find myself in a headspace that doesn't feel much different than that first semester of college. Despite having succeeded in many parts of my life, having failed desperately in others, and learning from every lesson there was to inhale, I’m sitting here one project away from finishing my degree and uncertain about so much. Perhaps I’ve grown too comfortable believing that things will just “work out” and haven’t been deliberate enough, or maybe I’ve lost faith in trusting the process and am finding myself in emotional limbo.

I started this semester navigating rough emotional and mental waters with an intensity I last experienced several years before that brought me back from my first master’s program in Northern Ireland. I lost touch with everything that helped keep me grounded in thought and rationality and when I wanted to seek the controlled comfort of an academic setting, our shared online world of schooling was far from calming. I eventually settled my bare feet back onto stable ground and built excitement for the semester and the intellectually stimulating conversations that I always so deeply crave.

I had three goals this semester:

Figure out what I want to do with my Phd

Present at the Learning Sciences Graduate Student Conference

Add something new to the foundation on which my research and educational transformation ambitions lay

Let’s talk about those.

The Phd will wait. Am I satisfied with that? Yes and no. I like plans laid out, remember? I am dissatisfied only from the prescribed notions of what “should be” that were defined by arbitrary standards and toxic judgement. I am working on letting that go. I am deeply comfortable and happy with the plan that has been put in place to figure out whether a PhD is actually what I want. I am excited about the questions I will be paying attention to that spark my curiosity, fuel my ambitions and that will guide me further into the ways I want to transform education. I am very much okay and enlightened by this plan. So, for that, I put a green check for what I hoped to accomplish this semester. The conference is a different story, but to continue on a path of listening to my mind and body and doing what I need to do, I will leave it at this: I made a choice that, at the time, was exactly what I needed. My comfort and understanding in that choice will settle, what’s right doesn’t always feel the best.

That last goal, though, I feel good about that one.

There were particular class sessions this semester, especially in the latter half, that opened conversations during which I was eagerly waiting to unmute myself and dig deeper into the topic, my own unraveling thoughts and curiously engage with other perspectives and insights. As is my modus operandi, I used every lecture, discussion and assignment to wrestle with how the content can uplift my ideas, answer or deepen my questions, or play a role in how I develop my research in genocide prevention. As I weaved that thread throughout each session, it was made stronger by the structure of the class wherein each previous lecture was revisited the following week and served as a purposeful transition into new content. This kept me aware of how all the concepts are connected to themselves as well as how I can continue to weave my purpose into these topics. As we discussed transfer, it provided me with an additional foot hold for making sense of the impact of transgenerational trauma and its effect on student experiences and ability to learn. This became apparent again toward the end of the semester when discussing stereotype threat and recognizing that the way individuals internalize ideas, lessons, concepts and ways of being and doing with regard to education, ourselves and our social and physical world can be challenging to overcome once those beliefs and values become deeply embedded and bleed into any new information we try to internalize. This is especially the case when the new information directly challenges those beliefs and values that define how we see the world and ourselves.

Then, even in very small ways, conversations about culture and context always found themselves in every class session-which I think is a critical focal point when discussing education, especially in the context of educational transformation. That was a persistent motivator in recognizing our collective role in the world we are building, in the social realities we generate on a daily basis that can amplify individual worlds in the best way or in the worst.

We can often fall into talking jargon, being too research minded or outcome centered, that we disconnect from the pure humanness of every experience-the impact of small words and phrases, of smiles or rolled eyes, hello’s or scoffs, a welcoming embrace or fear of difference. There is an unwavering beauty to the human experience that is marred by the amplification of each other’s differences that are held to existential competition with grave and long lasting consequences. We have an incredibly powerful platform within our schools that is waiting idly to be engaged with-a platform that reconnects learning to who we are as individuals in all that makes us similar and different. Perhaps that sounds idealistic, but if I didn’t believe that our schools and the way in which we engage with one another in purposefully meaningful conversations about identity, history and empathy could transform our collective experience on this planet, then I would not be writing it here. I’ll leave it at that.

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