#self destructive because what is being asked of a woman (the ideal behaviors) are all already oppressive

[horizon-verizon]

No, not really "on the surface".

LINK to @rhaenyragendereuphoria's post about feminism and Rhaenyra's story

LINK TO @brideoffires 's post about the effect of Rhaenyra's loss on Westerosi women at large, since I do not intend to make this a long reblog.

House of the Dragon is skeetering on the edge of a really fascinating conversation in its portrayal of Alicent and Rhaenyra — the promises of feudalism to women.

On the surface, Rhaenyra looks a bit like a feminist hero. She is a woman, demanding and asserting power in a patriarchal world that would deny her the crown on account of her gender. But if you look any deeper, it quickly becomes apparent Rhaenyra is not advocating for any real change. She is not reflecting any further on the oppressive nature of feudalism beyond how it affects her. She does not argue that succession changes should be widespread or shows no concern with the general treatment of women in the Seven Kingdoms, even the women directly before her, such as Rhaenys and Alicent.

The very nature of Rhaenyra’s “birthright” cannot be disentangled from the patriarchal system she supposedly is challenging. It assumes that the men who used force and subjugation were legitimate in claiming power. For Rhaenyra to be queen, it necessitates the belief that the passing over of Rhaenys was valid, and Viserys had the absolute authority to name his own heir, expanding the power imbalance between the king and his subjects.

And then we have Alicent Hightower, the embodiment of what a feudal noblewoman should be. Feudalism denies women direct access to power and, in exchange, promises them that if they are loyal and obedient, they will be given respect, dignity, and security. Their husbands will be their protectors. They are promised a safe, predictable transfer of power from their husband to their eldest son, ensuring them a place with the new generation.

Alicent does everything her society tells her she must, but she is denied the benefits. Her husband largely ignores her and her children. He is meant to be their protector, but when her son suffers a horrific injury, Viserys shows no concern, no interest in accountability. She is not even assured the one promise of security any other queen would be granted—namely, that her eldest son become king.

For Rhaenyra to gain direct access to the patriarchal, oppressive power held by feudalism, she has to rip away the security feudalism promises to Alicent. It’s a horrible, awful system, and goes to show how difficult changing things truly is in any meaningful sense.

[acloudofsparklingdust]

This just makes me think of all the accusations towards so called "TERFs" and "misandrists".

The truth is that 99% of ""men haters"" who do say "yes all men are part of the problem", still never talk about any sort of violence being imposed on men.

It's mostly "I wish men would drop dead", or "I wish men's victims would get their revenge". Nothing of that compares to the level of graphic violence and disgusting behavior idealized by even the "chillest" incel. And on that note, nothing like the fantasies of violence trans identified males often discuss. The "most tame" incel presented here still buys prostitutes without any shame about it.

It really infuriates me to think that men continue to hurt women and abuse children and then turn around and say that feminists are just as bad.

This is such a fucking tired condition. When will we wake up as a fucking society? I wish people would at least be honest in their constant prioritizing of male feelings.

All this talk of poor men who live in the edges, poor trans identified males, all these men who don't fit in, who are weird, who are autistic, who are not "playing the society game"... As if women don't present as weird? As if all women fit in? As if all women and girls are seen as normal, or correct. As if we are not lonely and isolated and sad.

The different is that men take their hurt and use it as an excuse to hurt others or to want to hurt others. And women too often take their hurt and turn it against themselves. Destroy themselves, with self harm and eating disorders, and worse.

The tired statistic about how males commit the most suicide keeps shadowing the statistic that females attempt suicide two to four times more often than men, but fail.

The now apparently widely accepted talk about the epidemic of male loneliness completely disregards female loneliness because we are silenced in our isolation. Because we ourselves don't frame our isolation in this way.

If a tree falls in the forest and no one's around to listen, does it make a sound?

If a woman suffers in silence, does her suffering still matter?

Is what it takes for one's suffering to be taken seriously to be violent and dangerous like incels are?

Why is men's loneliness a problem, but femicide and rape still widely disregarded?

My theory is that it's because men are active in destroying people and things around them when they self destruct.

Women too often implode, taking out only themselves in the wake. And sometimes even surviving self destruction, going on as a zombie.

When asked how we can reach the general incel community who hasn't questioned their violent and hateful ways, a former/recovering incel answers "treat them as human, that's all they really want".

When will we women be treated as human? Women and girls are raped and abused and murdered and groomed and tortured. We are seen and treated as subhuman.

But beware the hurt male's broken ego. It has shards that will pierce you through your heart.

[poppyandzena]

I have BPD and am in treatment. I have undergone some strategies to stop having a FP or idealizing this concept in my life. Having a favorite person can be destructive for the person with BPD and the FP. It can be better for your overall health in finding ways to cope and distance yourself from normalizing the feeling of limerence and obssession.

It's not fair for anyone in your life to be treated like this without warning, they did not ask to be a FP either, and dang, I think NF did her best given the situation. It's so unfair of Poppy to demand to be enabled in her possessive behavior; people with BPD can be manipulative too. Not because of the illness, but ill people can be shitheads too. And guess what, you need to apologize for being a shithead, even if you have a condition.

"For those with BPD, the FP is the person they rely on for their comfort, happiness, and validation. This means they are over-involved with every aspect of their life; they will find any excuse to spend time with their FP, and their entire future is contingent on the presence of this one individual. 

But since there aren’t healthy boundaries, the BPD person’s clinginess and constant need for attention becomes smothering. 

A BPD person’s relationship with their FP will affect their mood, confidence, self-worth, and sense of security. To summarize, the FP unknowingly carries all the responsibility for the BPD person’s happiness and well-being with them."

https://www.soberish.co/how-to-stop-having-a-bpd-favorite-person/

Thank you for the information 🧡 I am an FP and it is a much different relationship than having a best friend. No one is entitled to have an FP. And FPs aren't required to enjoy or put up with the dynamic. I am very lucky to be the FP of a kind, understanding individual who works hard to improve their circumstances. It takes a lot of communication.

Being an FP of Poppy is provably exhausting, smothering, and emotionally unhealthy. This is because Poppy puts the responsibility of her health onto people she barely knows and makes unrealistic demands. Poppy is STILL pissed that NF didn't cut her partners off for Poppy's sake, a woman NF only knew for a few months. There's a refusal to engage in self-awareness and humility that will make Poppy suffer for as long as she keeps it up.

[testudoaubrei-blog]

“I’m loyal, that’s my whole thing.” - Scorpia, Season 4 Episode 6, Princess Scorpia

“Everything they taught us in the Horde about loyalty is meaningless” - Lonnie, Season 4 Episode 5, Protocol

Rewatching Season 4, I just finished Princess Scorpia. This is an episode that has always stuck with me, especially the A plot of Scorpia realizing how badly Catra has treated her and everyone else and deciding to leave. One thing I’ve been thinking about since I finished the series, though, is what this episode is telling us on a larger level. Looking beyond the character arcs and more at this show’s larger themes and message. Because this show is very much a show that says things, made by people who believe them. That earnestness and depth is one reason I keep coming back to it.

In the pull-quote above, and throughout the episode and before it, Scorpia defines herself in terms of loyalty. It is her identity - as she says, that’s what Scorpions do, they’re loyal. Her actions for three and a half seasons bear this out. When she first shows up, she tries to position herself as Catra’s new best friend, the one who won’t leave her and will stick by her no matter what. And that’s what she does, until this episode. She sticks by Catra through Catra’s increasingly villainous plots and erratic behavior. But she doesn’t just stick around. Until the portal, she barely contradicts Catra, and even afterwards, does so only furtively and immediately backs away as soon as Catra pushes back. For more than a year of show time, Scorpia has not just stood by Catra, or supported her, she’s actively assisted her in her most villainous and destructive acts. Scorpia is fighting by Catra’s side, eagerly carrying out her orders, and doing her utmost to see that Catra succeeds. But her loyalty goes beyond this practical help. Because for all that Catra loudly declares that she doesn’t need a new best friend, she consistently seeks out connection throughout the show, even when she’s at her most isolated in season 4. She needs moral support, and connection, and to know that she isn’t alone. Scorpia provides that, and keeps Catra going. Though Scropia isn’t initiating Catra’s various misdeeds, she’s assisting and supporting Catra throughout. On a personal, psychological level, the only word that seems adequate for this is ‘ennabling’ - Scorpia, sweet as she is, is Catra’s enabler. We see in the next few episodes what happens when Catra doesn’t have Scorpia’s support - she breaks down, and realizes that her actions really do have consequences, and that the affection she took for granted for so many years is something she can’t live without. But as long as Scorpia’s still around, Catra can’t make that realization.

Now I’m not going to say that Scorpia is morally culpable for Catra’s own actions. She’s not. Catra is solely responsible for her various betrayals, manipulations, violent outbursts and assorted murder attempts against...most of the rest of the cast (though being raised by Shadow Weaver sure as shit is a mitigating factor). But while Catra is obviously being a bad friend to Scorpia throughout, Scorpia isn’t actually being as supportive or helpful to Catra as she thinks, because Catra doesn’t actually need unconditional support, she needs people to be honest with her and express to her how she’s hurting them. She needs people who will stand up for themselves just as she needs to take responsibility for her own actions. This is part of why she and Adora have such a healthy dynamic in season 5 - Adora doesn’t take her crap, and Catra takes responsibility for her crap.

However, Scorpia -is- responsible for her own actions. And as I said above, she’s been with Catra every step of the way as Catra has attacked just about everyone and made war on Etheria. On a larger, political level, Scorpia is a willing participant in upholding the Horde’s oppressive system, and executing a war of aggression and colonization against innocent people. Speaking of colonization, perversely, she’s loyal to the very organization that dispossessed her and literally stole her birthright, then discarded it like a useless trinket when it was no longer useful to them. No one ever suggests ‘why don’t we let Scorpia connect with ~her runestone~’ until Glimmer does (and Glimmer’s motivations and arguments aren’t exactly forthright). Scorpia’s loyalty makes her an accomplice in her own oppression (like a bunch of the themes in this show there’s some interesting post-colonial stuff that the show doesn’t fully explore, probably because Noelle and the crew felt self-conscious about telling a post colonial story, or just didn’t know where to go with it). Interestingly, Scorpia’s loyalty to the Horde here parallels her loyalty to Catra, which has made her completely disregard her own wellbeing, which is the most obvious take away from the episode.

But I would argue that everything above shows that for Scorpia loyalty has been a way of avoiding developing her own moral compass. Scorpia repeatedly shoves aside questions of right or wrong in favor of being loyal to her friends and to the Horde. Loyalty has made Scorpia not only willing to accept her own mistreatment, but to willingly mistreat others, and to keep herself from asking any hard questions about what she’s doing or why. This is despite the fact that Scorpia is, by inclination, an incredibly gentle, kind and compassionate person. She’s willing to silence the best parts of her nature out of loyalty to Catra and the Horde. In the end, she also commits acts of violence and perpetuates the oppression of Etheria. And this is so insightful, because we see this sort of thing in our world all the time. So many oppressive institutions depend upon the loyalty of their members to keep them ‘just following orders’; so many abusive systems depend upon loyalty to stifle dissent and silence potential whistleblowers before they even speak. We see this in some of the most oppressive institutions and the worst scandals in our own society, and looking back through human history we see it in some of our nation’s and our species' most infamous crimes.

And when we look at the Horde as a system that Hordak has built in imitation of his elder brother’s empire, we see just how central loyalty is an ethos. Hordak himself is motivated entirely by loyalty to Prime - being a former clone, he spends the entire series not fully capable of accepting himself as an autonomous being (even when he acts like one and enjoys it, there’s some fucked up religious shit there that I won’t get into). He seems to have instilled this in his followers. The Horde Trio, Catra and Scorpia all hold loyalty as one of their highest values. Catra clings to it as her biggest accusation against Adora - that she was disloyal, as expressed in Catra’s perception that Adora broke her promise and abandoned her. Loyalty keeps the Horde Trio together and fighting for the Horde, and Scorpia with Catra. I think we can read between the lines and say the Horde runs on loyalty (as well as fear) and this is a very insightful portrayal of oppressive military and paramilitary institutions like armies of conquest and occupation and other instruments of state violence.

There’s another, related way of looking at how a sole reliance on loyalty as a moral framework has stunted Scorpia’s moral growth, and I think that brings together both the ways that it makes Scorpia willing to accept her mistreatment and participate in the mistreatment of others. Namely, loyalty in the Horde style isn’t just sticking with someone or something, but subsuming your own will into theirs. Following orders. Supporting your friend in what they do no matter what. Whatever you call it, it’s about turning off your own self - your self preservation, your self respect, your conscience, whatever other things you value - and just going along with what the person or institution you are loyal to wants you to do. And this is where Horde loyalty goes full circle, back to its origin - Horde Prime, the narcissistic self-made god who wishes to control or destroy everything that is not himself. Loyalty as Hordak conceived of it and as the Horde believes in it is a reflection of Prime's absolute control over all his domain.

In a way, self-determination is one of this show’s highest values (together with love). It’s at the heart of Adora’s 5-season, 3 year struggle to become her own woman and her own hero as she shrugs off one imposed destiny and then another and finally embraces what she wants. In a more negative form, it’s at the heart of Catra’s arc, as she finally accepts responsibility for her own actions and their consequences and starts working to make a world that she actually wants to live in, as well as admit to herself that what she really wants is love. And I could go on. This self-determination is existentially, obviously threatened by Prime chipping people, but it is also stunted by horde-style loyalty that demands unquestioning support and obedience.

Both the Horde Trio and Scorpia reject the Horde’s ideal of loyalty and walk away, but I think it’s interesting how they do it. Neither rejects loyalty entirely (not on the way Adora does) - the Trio, realistically, remain loyal to each other and simply walk away and walk out of the war (this might save their lives), joining the other disillusioned cynics in the Crimson Wastes. They reject loyalty to the horde and embrace a more supportive and respectful form of loyalty to each other. Scorpia leaves, but she actually comes to her crisis and makes her decision out of loyalty, and because it’s clear that her loyalty isn’t returned. The immediate situation - loyalty to Emily and Entrapta’s memory on one hand and Catra’s orders on the others - creates the conflict between loyalties that forces Scorpia to actually make her own choice rather than deferring to Catra. But she also reflects how Catra betrayed her loyalty to Entrapta, and thus how all of her friends’ loyalty to Catra is not returned.This is another point about horde-style loyalty - it’s one way - Hordak or Catra will demand your loyalty, but they feel no obligation to return it, which reflects Prime’s view of every other being in the universe as disposable. It’s only when she’s with the Princesses that Scorpia starts to find a new moral center, though sticking up for and protecting her friends remains important to her. In neither case, though, are these kinds of loyalty coming at the cost of either the Trio or Scorpia’s autonomy or ability to make moral choices of their own. In the very next episode, she says she wants to 'be A good friend' which is how the Princesses typically describe sticking together, which is a much more active and holistic concept than 'loyalty'. Scorpia confesses that she doesn't even know how, but she wants to learn and thinks the princesses can teach her.

There's another interesting counterexample to Horde Loyalty. Adora repeatedly breaks with the people around her to do what is right. First she leaves the Horde, then walks away from Catra by stages when it is clear that Catra is going to continue to harm other people and Etheria. Then she walks away from Glimmer, defies Light Hope and breaks loyalty with her supposed destiny and purposes as well as loyalty to the homelans she has never known. By season 5, Adora is loyal only to herself and the people she cares about, but she isn't constraining her will to anyone else's. For all that she seems like a rule follower Adora has a rebellious streak a mile wide, and she will do what is right, no matter what. This is what allows her to save the universe 3 times.

So the show’s argument is that loyalty is not a good moral framework to base all of our actions around. I don’t think it goes so far as saying that loyalty has no place in our ethics (being a good friend, which is such a huge part of the show, certainly includes loyalty, especially sticking with people when the going gets tough), but the show stresses time and again that being loyal to something or someone shouldn’t make you disregard yourself and what you think is right. Because it’s only by living out our own values and taking responsibility for our own actions that we can come into our own as moral beings. Moreover, if we insist on maintaining loyalty to institutions that oppress us and others, we can’t dismantle the systems of oppression that are holding us and other people down. (Yes, this is a pretty radical message, but I suspect that Noelle is some kind of anarchist? Anyway, it’s a thing.)

Okay, so that’s what I, a 35 year old, get from this kids show. I think it’s also worth pointing out that this lesson applies to younger viewers too, in their most immediate lives. Younger viewers will have had friends who didn’t treat them well, or might not have treated other people well, and who might have pressured them into participating in the mistreatment of others (this is kind of how bullying works a lot of the time). I think it’s important that younger viewers see how being a good friend never means disrespecting yourself or other people and it means a lot to me that She-Ra shows this in such a nuanced and realistic way.

[waystobuild-blog]

Willow Schnee is Going to Burn Down the Schnee Mansion

So, I think a lot of people have talked about someone burning down the Schnee Mansion going up to Volume 7.

Most people before have talked about it being Weiss for obvious reasons or Ruby so that she finally gets the chance to burn something to the ground like the rest of her team and feed her thirst for destruction. Honestly, both are pretty viable choices for the destruction of the Schnee Manor considering well... Weiss and the fact that it was Ruby herself that said the team wouldn’t leave her side and that they should go to great lengths like Jacques.

But after yesterday’s episode, I just can’t see it being anyone other than Willow Schnee.

Willow, has been through a lot at the hands of Jacques and that’s something that they’ve made incredibly clear to us in just this one scene that she has already given up hope of getting out of this life. It’s honestly really sad and a little too real, if you ask me. I feel for Willow.

While I think that she has given up any hope for herself, it’s also made clear that she hasn’t given up on her children. So much so, that I believe that she believes that they’ll be able to prosper and that they’ll be able to do it together, despite everything.

It’s that ideal alone, why I believe that she’s going to set the mansion ablaze with both herself and Jacques inside.

I mean, it’s clear that she doesn’t give a damn about herself both with what’s been mentioned before and the way in which she drinks. She has some serious self destructive behavior. But despite that, she still cares about her kids and she thinks that Jacques is a terrible person.

When watching her scene, I read a few pieces of her dialogue a certain way.

“I put cameras in every room in this house, for our safety! In case I ever needed to-” Okay, so this one most people are reading as the potential for her to go to the police in case Jacques ever did something particularly rash. You know... However, I feel like this kinda goes against what we know about her. This is a woman who has gone through so much and at this point has kind of given up on herself. I imagine that the cameras are a relatively new development, so I doubt it was for when the kids would suffer from their father’s anger. So... I can see them being used for either one of two things. 1. Escape. If the kids need to book it out of the mansion and something is coming after them, she knows who’s coming and where. 2. To know exactly where he is at all times so that if she does ever do something. It’s a bit far fetched, but I just don’t feel like it’s for the reason most people think because of Willow’s nature, piled on top of the fact that Jacques is pretty untouchable himself. 

“That’s right... You left...” “You haven’t come back to stay have you?” “No.” “Good.” She doesn’t want them to come back. This is obviously because of the fact that well, Jacques has been a terror on their home and their family. But again, I also think that it’s because of the fact that she plans to do something. But whatever that something is is likely to be self destructive and she doesn’t want her to see or be caught in that. 

“Whatever happens, Weiss... Please don’t forget about your brother.”

“Whitley wants nothing to do with me.” “Of course not. You left him alone... with us...” Okay, this is the big one that made me believe that she’s going to set the place ablaze. So first off, let’s talk about the fact that Whitley is just as much a victim of Jacques toxic upbringing as the rest of them. I mean, he turned out the way he did because of all of this and that’s kinda tragic. He’s now left alone with all of this and nothing else to do but fall in line. He’s still a kid at the end of the day who’s just in a terrible situation. That’s not to say he’s not responsible for some of the stuff he’s pulled, but he absolutely is a victim of his father. It’s because of all of that, that she wants Weiss to free him too. She wants him to get away from it all and so that Weiss, Winter and Whitley her children can be a family. But most importantly, if I’m right then it’s so that they can live on after what will happen. 

Now, if I’m right about her setting the house on fire then those last two quotes especially foreshadowing. Picture this, whether it be out of rage, or just giving up or drunkenness or whatever, Willow sets parts of the mansion on fire. And for whatever reason, Team RWBY and others are in there. Everybody has to escape or they’re all gonna die. But as they’re leaving, Whitley is still somewhere in the house and for whatever reason, he cannot escape.  Wiess wouldn’t forget about him this time though.  She wouldn’t leave him alone with her parents to die. She will absolutely go back for him and maybe he might start to get some redemption because of that. 

[fortunatelylori]

People are not what they seem – Thoughts on episode 7

This episode was a bit of a mixed bag for me. There were moments I loved but overall it left me more than a little frustrated.

Sparks joy

Arthur Parker

Arthur has always sparked joy for me. His pineapple takedown was one of the most iconic moments of this show and he does not disappoint in episode 7. A lot of people were surprised to see him make the salient points to both Sidney and Georgiana. But I would argue that’s because they haven’t paid attention to Mr. Heywood’s warning back in episode 1.

People are not what they seem in Sanditon and you shouldn’t let what other characters think about one person or another influence your opinion of them. Arthur might be a hypochondriac but, by and large, he has been considerably less trouble to anyone than the likes of Georgiana or Tom. He has also always been, in his own way, incredibly wise and brave. He asked Georgiana to dance when everyone was staring at her in a state of shock and he taught Lady Denham a lesson when even Sidney remained silent.

So it’s no small wonder that the task of reminding Sidney that Eliza Champion might not be the most trustworthy person in the world falls onto him.

It could hardly fall onto Tom … Listen I’ve tried my best to be as understanding with Tom Parker as I could be, making excuses for him left and right. But no more! In this episode alone, he tries to pass off his passive aggressive bullshit onto Mary when she rightly makes him see that hanging around Lady Denham’s drawing room like a carrion crow makes him no better than the likes of Edward Denham. He fallows that up by trying to push his younger brother into a quickie wedding to a woman that abandoned him in favor of a richer husband and sent him on a self-destructive path that almost killed him. What a bozo!!!

At the very least, as his older brother, it was up to Tom to advise Sidney to be a little careful in restarting his relationship with Eliza. But no, that task falls unto Arthur because Tom can’t be trusted with anything more challenging than miniature house building.

Esther and Lord Babington

Speaking of people not being what they seem, these two are by far the biggest surprises Sanditon has to offer. Esther started off as a combination of Mary Crawford and Caroline Bingley and she’s turned into freaking Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight over here!

Don’t ever let anyone tell you Sanditon is just a shallow bodice ripper because the way it went about effortlessly depicting a woman struggling through an emotionally abusive relationship with a narcissist is masterful! And her setting herself free of Edward in this episode was glorious!

As was Lord Babington proving to be a better Darcy than Darcy himself. His deep empathy for her, his complete rejection of Edward’s bitter gossip mongering and his unconditional support was truly moving. Bless him and his orange handkerchief!

PS: Give this man a first name, Davies! He’s earned it!

The Heraclitus of it all

Again, I firmly believe that the people who are dismissing this show as just a spot of shallow entertainment, aren’t really paying attention because the whole scene of Charlotte’s assumed humiliation is so carefully and masterfully built it’s delightful to watch

Charlotte takes Sidney’s “I’m certain Charlotte would prefer to be reading Heraclitus” line as an insult that depicts her a country bumpkin who is not fit for the fashionable London crowd.

But should she? We already know that Sidney reads Heraclituss himself. They were just bonding over that on their little boat ride. And look where his line comes into play:

Eliza: There must be a boy in your village that’s caught your eye.

Lady Susan: Why should Charlotte be limited to her village?

Eliza: I always think it helps to share a common background, that’s all. Miss Heywood is hardly likely to find a kindred spirit in this company.

Lady Susan: Why not?

Eliza: I just imagine she must find our London talk unspeakably tedious. Wouldn’t you agree, Sidney?

Sidney: I have no doubt Charlotte would rather be sat somewhere, quietly reading Heraclitus.

What Sidney is actually saying is that there is someone there who is a kindred spirit to Charlotte: HIM! He isn’t insulting her or laughing at her. He’s making a call back to their London ball scene where they both felt out of place but found solace in each other. What he’s telling her is that he doesn’t belong amongst Eliza’s crowd either.

This kind of subtle, clever writing is actually a lot rarer than you might think and, for me, drives to the core of why Andrew Davies is such a fantastic writer. He not only understands how to present a period drama to a modern audience in a way that is fresh and interesting but also how to create these moments of brilliant writing complexity almost effortlessly.

Georgiana Lambe

Georgiana, the character, isn’t really sparking joy for me as she’s behaving like an utter brat but the writing for her character is. She’s been terribly hurt for the first time in her life so she’s lashing out anyway she can. Also this line is brilliant:

Sidney: I am all too aware that I have fallen short as your guardian. But please believe that I am sincere in my desire to make amends.

Georgiana: Men like you cannot change.

Why is that brilliant? Well because Georgiana is engaging in one of the oldest and most popular forms of toxic anger: transference. What she’s really saying is that Otis will never change enough for them to be together. But Otis isn’t there, Sidney is so he gets to be the punching bag du jour.

The reason why depicting her grief in this way is so compelling is because it’s so natural to her story. She was already feeling like an outcast in England, not loved or wanted by anyone. Otis let her concentrate all of her self-worth entirely on him (one of the worst things he did and not the only one but that’s a subject for another meta) and then failed to live up to his inherent promises. Georgiana feels that no one cares for her and so she pushes the people who are trying to help her away so she can have her very own self-fulfilling prophecy.

And while her interaction with Sidney might be somewhat understandable considering his cold attitude towards her in the beginning and also the fact that whether or not Georgiana likes it, he’s the closest she has to an actual parental figure, her attitude towards Arthur absolutely is not.

Her insults, thankfully, fall on deaf ears because Arthur knows he is a precious lily of the field and we are all very happy he’s here!

Does not spark joy

Sidney and Eliza

From what I see in the tags, no one is really all that fond of Eliza … I wonder why … lol …

But protectiveness over my ship isn’t really why this storyline didn’t spark joy for me. It’s actually because it failed to live up to its potential. The writers chose to make Sidney and Eliza’s reunion all about how that affects Charlotte and dedicated very little time to the Sidney/Eliza dynamic.

And it started so well too. I had high hopes when Sidney said this:

Sidney: A man cannot step into the same river twice.

What Sidney is talking about in very poetic terms if what in my country we call “reheated soup”. That’s what Eliza is … a chance to reheat the soup. Except that the saying goes: reheated soup never tastes the same which is absolutely true when it comes to relationships. Tempting as it might be to rekindle something, it very rarely works out because the reasons why you broke up in the first place will eventually rear their ugly heads again. Which they do in their case as well, when Eliza needlessly attacks Charlotte, proving herself petty and superficial.

But because we never stay with Sidney enough to figure out what his attraction to her might have been once upon a time, because we don’t get to see how reuniting with her is stirring not only his feelings of long lost longing but also of the trauma she caused and because we don’t even get to watch their last conversation together, it all fails to make the impact that it could have made. Which is a shame …

IMDB has Ruth Kearney listed for episode 8 as well and a part of me hopes Eliza will be back next week and we can have a bit of a do over.

Lady Susan

I know everyone likes her and the actress is delightful. However as much as I might enjoy her in isolation, within the context of the story she remains a poorly introduced character who is only on screen to push Charlotte and Sidney together (we never find out why she’s so invested in this) and to act as a deus ex machine for the regatta.

The “half agony, half hope” that is …

Charlotte

I really hate to do this because I love her but most of my frustration this episode came down to Charlotte.

Her behavior was confusing, dissatisfying and at times quite thoughtlessly cruel. Most of that was directed at poor James Stringer.

As you know, I am a Charlotte/Sidney shipper so I don’t have a problem with Charlotte not returning James’ affection. In fact I’ve made the point in the past that the whole Tem Stringer vs. Team Sidney promotion was silly because it was clear there was no rivalry there.

However, Charlotte behaves very poorly to him in this episode. It’s the second time now (the first was in episode 4) where she’s used James as a stand-in for Sidney. Every time she’s talking to this boy, her mind is miles away and she ends up missing all the signs that she’s stringing him along (no pun intended but the clue is in the name, I suppose).

What Charlotte really wants is for Sidney to give her the same undivided adoring validation Stringer gives her and because he isn’t, she ends up engaging with James in a way that is less than ideal. That’s not so say she necessarily realizes she’s doing this but her thoughtlessness is starting to be frustrating.

Which brings me to … her behavior towards Sidney. The way unrequited love seems to work for Charlotte is that it makes her less than generous and she looks for any opportunity to cut Sidney loose, so to speak.

She doesn’t attempt to put up a fight for him at any level, despite this being the girl that fights for everything that matters to her. And it all comes crushing down during the conversation with Eliza, when she takes the smallest opportunity to completely shut him out.

It’s also kind of hypocritical of her to still be angry at this comment at the end of the episode, when she did far worse. I mean if you want to talk about someone being someone else’s “source of amusement” look no further than:

Charlotte (imitating Sidney): You see, Georgiana, this is exactly why I locked you away in Mrs. Griffths’ dungeon. To keep you out of mischief, while I, Sidney Parker, gallivant around London with my high society, dandy friends.

So while deciding that Sidney was an ass to her is tempting, I’d like to point out that, as I’ve shown earlier, there is nothing mean spirited or negative in his comment at all. So is it fair to say that Sidney hurt her when the most obvious explanation is that Charlotte is insecure? She has been since the moment she met Sidney and Eliza instinctively preyed on that insecurity. And Charlotte not only let’s Eliza hurt her but she also transfers her insecurity firmly onto Sidney’s shoulders, instead of owning it or resolving it.

The reason why this is in the half agony, half hope category is because I’m not sure if the above is the writers’ intention or if I’m trying to make this more interesting than it actually is. If their intention is to paint Charlotte as completely right about everything, while Sidney is the fool who needs to repent and Stringer is the guy who got ahead of himself, I’m going to be pretty disappointed.

For the moment, we’ll have to wait and see, I guess.

[no-identification-required]

I wanted to say...

I had a very important realization today, and I felt the need to share it. I feel it’s something that applies to you, as well as to me. So please, think about what I have to say as thoroughly as you can, learn what you will from it, and derive your own opinion about it. I will not comment on this, beyond the initial post, and as such will not argue with or attempt to refute any comments made here, and I ask that the same respect be given to any who do choose to share their views as well. I want everyone to feel free and comfortable to share their own views and associated experiences.

All that being said, id like to start by saying this is an issue I’ve been struggling with for a long time. Nearly a decade.

You see, I had a grandfather who I loved to death, he was awesome and super funny, and he was my favorite. We were really close. He was a war vet, and he taught me a lot about things like courage and honor. If he ever saw a man or woman in uniform he would go out of his way to do something kind for them, thank them for their service, pay for their meal, etc. He was a good man.

He was not without his flaws though. He was a bit perverted, and nearly all his choice films and shows had sex and nudity. So, even though he was pretty good about not indulging when I was around. When I was 11, I started to notice what movies and things he had around the house, and I got curious. So I got on google on his computer in the basement.

That’s how it started. An addiction that I have been struggling to overcome for the last decade of my life. I know some would argue that porn and masturbation aren’t bad things necessarily. They even would argue that such behavior is normal and healthy. So I’d like to explain why it’s a bad thing, in my experience.

You see, it’s not just that it’s offensive to women or contrary to the will of God or whatever you’re used to hearing, even though those things may be true. The reality of the matter, in my experience, is that it is destroying me.

What started as simple curiosity became an obsession. I kept going back, looking for more, and back then, being 11, I wasn't very sneaky, I didn't know how to delete search history etc. So I got caught fairly easily and quickly. As a consequence, my behavior stopped for a time.

Fast forward a couple years, and curiosity gets the better of me again, only this time, I'm smarter about it. Sneakier. I had heard about kids at school who knew how to delete browser histories, so I figured it out for myself. Once I knew how to get away with it, it was too much of a temptation to see if I actually could. To test it out.

It did work. For years no one knew what I was doing. I knew it was bad, based off of my parents reaction when they found out the first time, but I didn't realize it was a destructive and addictive behavior. I started to struggle more at school, as I was dedicating less and less time to school work and more and more time to self gratifying behaviors. That's the thing, it such a powerful stimulus that it trains the brain to seek out any forum of gratification it can find, and that drive begins to take priority. Over school, over friends, over family.

I was becoming a worse person, and around the age of 15- 16 I realized that. I decided I wanted to stop. I realized my behavior was disgusting. That what I was doing was not something I wanted to be doing anymore, and who I was be coming was not in line with my goals. So that was the decision I made. No more porn, no more masturbation. I was gonna quit cold turkey.

But my resolve lasted a couple of days, maybe, and I feel back into the same habits and behavior. I struggled to overcome for weeks, which would turn into months, with little victories measured in streaks of a few days at most.

That's when I got scared. I realized it was something I couldn't beat on my own, but there was so much shame and guilt in that. So much shame in what I was doing, so much shame in the inability to stop. I was ashamed of my weakness. Other boys could control themselves, why couldn't I? I couldn't imagine what my mom would think, or how she would react if she found out. Or any of my fríliends and family for that matter. I felt so hopeless and helpless. That despair... It was dark. My self-confidence took a massive hit. I stopped looking at myself as a normal fun loving guy, and started seeing a failure, a weakling, a pathetic and disgusting excuse for a person.

Finally, I broke. I needed to talk, I needed help. So I told my mom, and bless her soul she was there for me. She didn't disown me or think any less of me, she was ready and willing to help, and after many tears I knew I would never, ever, do it again. I asked her to change the passwords on the computer, and to take away my phone. Until I felt I could be trusted again..

And it worked...

For a whole 3 and a half weeks.

Turns out, after years of exposure to explicit videos and images, you don't need access to any materials. They're imprinted on your mind, and you can't get rid of them.

You can't escape them.

And, in my case, they were far more powerful than I was.

That's another thing. No one ever warns you how addictive this stuff is. I remember as a child in elementary school they had this program where they taught us about drugs and alcohol and how bad they were and how the best thing to do was to never take or try those things In the first place because it was destructive and could kill us. I made a promise in my little, innocent heart that I would never touch those things, because I knew I would become addicted and it would hurt me and those I love. To date I have been faithful to that promise made by that little guy.

But no one said anything about porn. I didn't even know what that was, let alone that it is so addictive, yet accessible. More acceptable to some, then drugs and alcohol, because, at least you can't O.D. On porn right? It can't kill you, right? So by that logic, it's harmless, and it's ok.

What no one ever says though, what no one ever mentions is the self loathing that comes with it. That crippling self hate and doubt, that leads to anxiety and depression. No one mentions how it feels when you realize one day you'll have to look in your wives' eyes and tell her. No one ever tells you to think about what that pain I her eyes will look like, or how that will affect your relationship. No one ever taught me that it may not stop my heart, but it would kill who I was and who I wanted to be.

I used to be outgoing and charismatic. A natural leader of sorts. Now, I struggle to forum friendships, and when I walk into a room I hide in a corner, trying not to be noticed. Now when I'm walking down the street and I see a cute girl, instead of smiling and waving I look away in shame, feeling like a pervert and a creep for just thinking she looks nice. I fear she'll see me for what I am.

Heck, I can't even trust myself on a date. I haven't had my first kiss because I'm afraid that if I let myself do anything actually physical that I won't be able to stop myself. If I can't stop myself with a phone how could I stop myself with a real person?

Yeah, no one tells you that. At least, not til it's far far too late.

When I was 17 I was back I to the full swing of things, my mom had given me the password to the computer again, and a brand new smartphone, and I was worse than I had ever been. Thats when I read an article about how porn kills love. Apparently, with all the dopamine and hormones and chemicals involved, it creates more receptors for such things, creating an insatiable appetite. One that is unsatisfied by the real deal. So, a person who uses porn is chemically unable to experience real sex and love the same way a non porn user does. It's because we become accustomed to similar sensations, and so we seek harder and harder stuff to continue getting the same essential "high."

When I read that, a little part of me died. I could no longer even love my future wife and family as I ought to be able to do. As they deserve. Because I'm too weak. Too undisciplined. Too irresponsible. Too...

The list goes on, and the hate goes deeper.

I lost all hope.

I lost all semblance of hope of becoming the kind of person I had always dreamed to be.

When I was 18 going on 19, things changed. I gripped more firmly to my religion, and dedicated myself to studying and teaching for a couple of years, and the process wasn't immediate, but after the 1st year or so, I finally did it. I got clean. I was free!

I felt more happy than I had in a long time, more confident. I felt strong. I felt like a real man. I started stepping up again and doing more leader-like things. I was disciplined, smart, and capable. I had a real hope for my future again for the first time in nearly half my short life span.

It was glorious.

And it ended, hard, and suddenly.

When I finally came back to the real world, in preparation for college and things, all that self control and strength and confidence crumbled apart like a dry cake within a couple of weeks.

Because I started using again.

For the life of me I couldn't understand it. How could I be so weak? So stupid? So utterly incapable? God had given me freedom, had forgiven me, had given me strength, and I threw it away like it was trash.

How can my actions, to date, be so contrary to my ideals? To my wishes and desires?

I pray and beg for freedom. To be changed. To be better. To be who God wants me to be. Surely he has all power, and he wants me to stop as much as I do, if not more so, so why doesn't he intervene and do something? Anything?

I feel like I've done all I can do in my power, so isn't this the point he's supposed to step in and save the day???

My prayers, my questions, went unanswered.

Until today.

I went to my first day of college religious institute. I missed the actual first day. I was struggling to find the class and as the time for the class approached, and I still wasn't finding it, I got really, really, scared. Some form of anxiety, but I was worried about where I would sit. If I came in late all the seats would be taken and I couldn't sit somewhere where I wouldn't be noticed. Instead, if I went in late, everyone would look at me, and I'd be forced to sit next to people I don't know. So I chickened out 5 minutes before the class, figured I'd be far too late once I actually found it, and left.

I felt defeated, cowardly, weak, and angry at myself. Not that any of that is new.

But then today I tried again, I figured through process of elimination where the room more or less ought to be, and I got in early and got a good seat in the back corner.

When the teacher started class he started talking about God as the great Creator and designer of all things, stuff very familiar to me. He talked about God's attention to detail and his love of variety etc. Then he flipped it on us, talked about how God created us and how we are each masterpieces in progress. But then he said something, something that caused the entire world for me to pause. Something that clicked. Something that filled me with a little spark of hope.

What he said is the following quote from a former religious world leader, Thomas S. Monson

"God left us the world unfinished for man to work his skill upon. He left the electricity in the cloud, the oil in the earth. He left the rivers unbridged and the forests unfelled and the cities unbuilt. God gives to man the challenge of raw materials, not the ease of unfinished things. He leaves the pictures unpainted and the music unsung and the problems unsolved, that man might know the joys and glories of creation."

And something whispered to me. God sometimes leaves me unfinished, especially in this case. Sure, he could finish this work, but what would that do? Make a righteous little minion? No, he has a better plan than that. He wants me to feel the joy of this victory, of figuring out how to use the tools he's provided to shape myself. He'll help me and guide me, I'm sure, but he's also excited and anxious to see how and what I'll do to win this fight of mine.

He hasn't abandoned me, he doesn't hate me for what I have become or what I have done.

Rather, he has trusted me with a job. A challenge. A problem to be solved. So once I'm done, I'll be someone who was strong enough to actually win this fight. Smart enough to solve the problem. Brave enough to do what it takes.

So, I'm still unfinished. I've still got a problem. But there's a little spark of hope, heck, even a little excitement as I think, how will I do it? Maybe it will take therapy, maybe I'll meet someone who will teach me a thing or two, who knows? God does apparently, and that's comforting, because yes, I've got a monster of a problem, but I've got God's assistance and trust to make something of myself.

I felt compelled to share this. I feel someone might need to hear this. I'm still in the thick of things, but I've found a hope. So maybe there's someone out there who's in the same situation, looking for that same hope.

I pray this finds them because maybe, just maybe, this might be the whole purpose behind all of this.

Thank you for reading, I know it was long, but I do feel it is important. All of the views here are of course, from my own limited experience, and many may disagree with a number of things I have said. That is ok. This is simply my story, which is not yet over. I certainly have much left to learn.

But I do hope that something in what I have written will be of benefit to you, as a lesson, or a warning, or at least an example of some kind.

God bless you my friends.

[fishmech]

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[qqueenofhades]

The Punisher as Medieval Romance: Tropes, Themes, and Characters

So a few days ago, an anon asked about more mythologies/inspirations for Kastle, apart from Hades/Persephone, and I mentioned that Frank’s character and his overall story arc have substantial (and fascinating) parallels with medieval romances. I was just answering quickly, but I then started to think about it in more depth, and realized that in fact, damn near all of The Punisher can be read as a modern-day medieval romance, sometimes subverting long-established tropes and sometimes playing them almost straight. This extends into Daredevil canon as well, as the characters around Frank also fit into recognizable mythic-medieval roles, and… yes. I resisted writing a long and research-heavy meta, clearly what I needed to do on the last week of term, for oh, forty-eight hours. Then, well, we know how that goes.

A note that I work specifically on medieval history, rather than medieval literature, so if I say anything clangingly bad, I hope my brethren and sistren medievalists can forgive me for it. Also, I don’t know if any of this is intentional on the part of the writers, so it’s not like I am identifying anything they’re specifically doing (or if they are, I don’t know about it), but this is just me, as a nerd, wandering into the candy store and being like “OH HEY GUYS LOOK AT THIS.” Of course, not all the examples fit in every aspect between medieval romance and modern Marvel canon, but there are still enough of them in a number of ways to make this interpretation plausible. And indeed, considering how Marvel stories have become ubiquitously embedded in our popular lexicon almost exactly in the way Arthurian legends and stories did for their medieval equivalent, it’s a noteworthy comparison.

(As you may be able to guess, this will be long.)

Let’s start with the source material. The medieval Arthurian romances are part of what is known as the Matter of Britain: the vast corpus of texts, written and rewritten across several centuries and by countless authors (usually French or English) that deals with some aspect of this mythology. Arthur, Guinevere, Lancelot, Merlin, the Knights of the Round Table, and other characters appear in various guises and playing different roles in each of these texts. They are still “themselves” on each appearance, but the interpretation and the storyline is largely up to each individual author. One may remark that this bears some similarities with the Marvel comic universe. The characters have been written and re-written in a vast array of formats from their first creation to their present modern iteration (and likewise, Hollywood is still making a King Arthur movie every other year). They have been interpreted by many authors and given different plots and re-imaginings, and are part of our collective pop-culture reference in the way that Arthurian romance and chivalric literature was in the medieval era. If Twitter had existed back then, we would have fans begging for Arthur Pendragon to be saved from Camlann the way we now have fans begging NASA to save Tony Stark. It’s a kind of cultural entertainment that you’re probably at least aware of, even if you’ve never participated in, and thus has reached similar levels of saturation. The Arthurian romances inspired endless knock-offs. We likewise have an omnipresent superhero genre. It reinvents and redefines the hero’s journey for its particular day and age on a massive scale. In some sense, we don’t even need to explain these characters or tropes, because everyone already knows who and what they are.

So… onto Frank. At first glance, he is a considerably unlikely medieval romantic hero, right? He’s rough around the edges, has (to say the least) grey morality, and is generally regarded as an outcast and a loner in his community, rather than some idealized, flawless Sir Galahad type who has never done anything wrong in his life and nobly avoids all temptation. But he’s actually a hero in the middle of his trials and tribulations and the corresponding loss (and eventual reaffirmation) of heroic identity. The broad strokes of Frank’s character arc, as seen in Daredevil season 2 and Punisher season 1, are these:

Separation from home and family;

Exile from society and the implied loss of chivalric (military) virtue;

Test of honor/contests against other knights, good and bad (Matt Murdock, Wilson Fisk, Lewis Wilson, etc);

Search for the Grail (life, restoration to honor, vengeance for his family, completion of the chivalric quest);

Partnership with worthy knights on the search (David Lieberman, Curtis Hoyle);

Resisting temptation from a knight’s wife (Sarah Lieberman);

Saving a fair maiden and having to be worthy of her love, while bound by a code of secrecy (Karen Page);

Confrontation of betrayal by an intimate/revelation of the dark side of chivalric honor (Billy Russo);

Menaced by a quasi-mythical and possibly demonic figure who must be defeated, who fights him in a parallel battle at the beginning/end of the story (Agent Orange/Rawlins);

Attempt to re-enter society and re-establish identity (end of s1, though that will be once more disrupted and complicated by s2);

All of this is, basically, the overall character arc for a medieval hero. Pretty much beat by beat. Also, while we’ve gotten used to think of ‘chivalry’ as implying a certain kind of idealized and virtuous behavior around ladies (holding doors, gentlemanly actions, whatever) that was only a small part of the overall code of chivalry – which, at its core, was an ethos about fighting, military prowess, and the display of valor through acts of war. Frank says that he loves being a soldier, and this would be a sentiment familiar to a medieval knight. Chrétien de Troyes has a line about how, essentially, only morally suspect half-men prefer peace. The soldier’s proper right, duty, and true joy in life is the practice of war, and he earns chivalry – martial renown – by doing it. It is not merely a pretty or romantic veneer on courtly behavior (though that is often how it is presented), but about war, the military, the destruction of opponents, and the very nature of being a constant soldier. To say the least, this fits Frank’s character extremely well. He is the consummate soldier who in fact needs a constant war to fight, and who has built an honorable legacy for himself (decorated Marine, Navy Cross, etc) prior to his forcible separation from society. This darker, grittier underside of chivalry, when the violence, bloodshed, and distortion of self was a constant concern, also fits very well with the tone of The Punisher.

That separation is often the keystone for a medieval hero’s journey, and functions to drive him out from the context in which he has until now been respected and earned his living. Sometimes we have an outright reason for that action, sometimes the hero just leaves Camelot and sets out on a quest, but Frank’s separation from society bears some similarity to Bisclavret, a twelfth-century werewolf romance written by a woman (Marie de France), and interesting for various reasons. (Some literature is available via Google Books.) In this case, the hero (the eponymous Bisclavret) is driven from society by the treachery of his wife, who hides his clothes so he can’t turn back from a wolf into a human and is forced to spend seven years in the forest as a beast. Of course Frank loses his wife, rather than being betrayed by her, but there’s still the connection between loss of wife – loss of home – loss of self, resulting in exile to the margins of society and transformation into a “monster.” Bisclavret never gives up his principles and identity even while forced to remain a wolf, and Frank gains a reputation as the “Punisher,” but likewise adheres to his own code of honor. He remains a knight, even if a knight-errant.

Bisclavret is rescued and brought back from the woods by an unnamed king, who sees his humanity and treats him well even as a monster (and yes, there are some definite homoerotic undertones in the fact that it’s the king’s love that restores him to himself, after his wife rejects him for his monsterhood or arguably, queerness). However, you could credibly parallel this to Frank and David Lieberman, who believes that he can help Frank and they can restore him to his former self/his good name. David of course physically helps Curtis care for Frank after his injuries in TP 1x05, and in general performs the humanizing role for the “monster.” He serves as Frank’s companion in the wilderness and believes that he is not the way the rest of society sees him (just as everyone else in Bisclavret sees him as a werewolf and has to be convinced by his good behavior that he’s really a man). Likewise, Karen recognizes early in Daredevil season 2, and never gives up in believing, that Frank still has honor. He’s (literally) not a monster to her. He has been expelled from the chivalric society in which he operated before, but he has not completely abandoned his morality.

Next, as noted, the motif of contests against other knights is essentially a central theme in all quest narratives. Frank must match his wits and skills against challengers, and be paralleled and anti-paralleled to them. One of his most obvious foils is against Matt, as they are explicitly set up as reflections and reverse images of each other. In some sense, Matt is the perfect chivalric knight, at least in DD s1/s2. His morality tends to the black and white, he always has some sense of how his faith informs or restricts his actions, and he constantly incorporates the church’s teaching into his sense of self. As Richard Kaeuper discusses in Holy Warriors: The Religious Ideology of Chivalry, this is basically exactly what the medieval church would want for a knight. Some degree of coexistence (sometimes a great deal) exists between chivalry and Christianity, but the underlying question of violence and sin always underlies it – can a man who makes his living by killing people really claim to be acting in a holy cause? Matt avoids this paradox (or tries to) by not killing anyone, but Frank almost exactly embodies the tension between these two ideologies that was ever-present in the medieval era. Clerical moralists always worried that knights were too comfortable with killing, violence, and general unethical behavior (even as they needed and co-opted that violence for their own purposes, such as the preaching and popularization of the crusades). For their part, the knights often selectively used the parts of Christianity that they liked, and fashioned it into their own ethos, just like Frank does to justify his campaign of vengeance.

In other words, Matt and Frank are perfect symbols of the struggle between church and chivalry, with Matt embodying one side (reconciliation) and Frank embodying the other (estrangement), but neither of them are completely excluded from knighthood despite their differences. They’re in fact the central tension of its existence – how violent can a knight be, and how much consideration, superficial or otherwise, does he have to pay to the church’s restriction of his ethics and behavior? There is some argument that chivalric literature was written as an attempted correction or moral instruction for real-life knights, who were supposed to take it as guidance on their own behavior and be more merciful. This isn’t always the case, since as noted, the literature exalts the very kind of violent behavior that built a chivalric reputation, but there was always that inherent wariness about how much was too much. Matt and Frank push and pull each other on this very question, end up working together at points because they are both within the system, but can’t fully reconcile.

(Also I’d like to point out: Stick, Matt, and Elektra as Merlin, Arthur, and Morgana. Stick is the mysterious, possibly immortal mentor, who teaches and mentors both of them, but also misleads and manipulates them for his own purposes. Matt becomes the ‘hero,’ son of the dead/fallen king (Uther Pendragon/Battlin’ Jack Murdock), while Elektra becomes the villainess/feared sorceress, marginalized by a society frightened of her agency and unwillingness to play nice. Also, one of Arthur’s two half-sisters, usually Morgause but sometimes Morgana, is the mother of his illegitimate son, Mordred, who is prophesied to be his destruction. So there is a dark/forbidden/taboo sexual aspect to their relationship, and just as Mordred causes the ultimate fall of Camelot, Matt and Elektra are literally caught in a falling building at the end of Defenders, which destroys their current identities. Matt enters Once and Future King stage after that and at the beginning of DDS3, where he is ‘gone’ or sleeping or suffering a crisis of faith and must summon up the wherewithal to return, and the character of Benjamin Poindexter becomes one of the many Arthur imposters. There are also some parallels for Elektra with Nimue, the ambitious young student of Merlin’s who overthrows him, ends his reign, and imprisons him in a tree.)

Anyway, back to Frank. So what are knights actually doing with all this questing? Well, various things, but they’re most often searching for the Holy Grail: symbolic of eternal life, forgiveness and atonement of sins, return to self. For this reason, few of them actually find it or are able to encounter it without being changed. It too has a deeply underlying Christian context, and Frank, the ex-Catholic, has been estranged from his belief but not separated entirely. (Likewise, if you were not worthy to look on it, you could be blinded, so… the fact that Matt himself is blind is arguably a commentary on who he actually is vs. how he imagines himself.) The Grail is also, interestingly, in the custody of a figure known as the Fisher King. He is the keeper of the castle where the Grail is hidden, and in the context of the Punisher, he’s basically Curtis.

The Fisher King, for a start, is always wounded in the legs or the thigh, and unable to stand. Some scholars have interpreted this as a metaphor for castration (since “thigh” is often a euphemism for the genitals), and that the Fisher King is passive and impotent because he is physically unable to perform warfare and thus to acquire chivalry. Either way, the Fisher King is the keeper of eternal life, but is physically disabled and needs the help of a knight to activate that power. Curtis is to some degree a subversion of this trope, because he is explicitly not helpless and functions to enable other questing knights (veterans with PTSD) to search for the Grail (health and reconciliation to society)… but in TP 1x09, he still needs Frank to save him. Frank has to encounter the Fisher King and make the correct choice/ask the right question (which wire to cut) to save him and continue his own path toward the Grail. Curtis, by running the veterans’ group, is symbolically the keeper of eternal life, where questers have to literally ask questions/talk to each other to restore themselves, and Frank, by going at the end of s1, is still trying to reach it. But true to form, with the beginning of s2, he’s not going to be able to entirely get there. There is still another obstacle/quest to overcome.

So what about Karen? Visually and to some degree topically, she is set up as the lady whose love Frank needs to obtain and maintain, even in the wilderness of his exile. Karen is blonde-haired and blue-eyed, which was often viewed in the medieval era as the ideal/most beautiful kind of woman (because white supremacy in Europe has always existed to some degree, even if in differently constructed ways. However, the thirteenth-century Dutch romance Morien, and some other ones, feature black and mixed-race protagonists, who are just as able to achieve the predicates of the heroic quest as others). She is also, as discussed above, one of the only people to believe in Frank’s honor and to reach out to help him. However, this relationship has to be kept secret, and has the potential to destroy them both if revealed. This is a fairly close parallel to another of Marie de France’s romances: Lanval (adopted in fourteenth-century English form, by Thomas Chestre, as Sir Launfal).

In brief, Sir Lanval, after being cast out from Camelot, meets a fairy woman and they become lovers, and she promises him that he will have everything he needs, as long as he keeps her secret and never mentions her to anyone. (Marie’s original version of this is much less misogynist than Chestre’s, which adds Guinevere making sexual advances to Launfal and her jealousy being the cause of him being thrown out, so yes, Dudes Ruining Stuff has a long history.) This is not an exact analogue to Frank and Karen, but keeping the code of secrecy (Karen obviously can’t tell anyone about Frank, Frank receives what he needs from her in terms of information, emotional support, etc, but likewise can’t tell anyone about it) is paramount in both relationships. Speaking about the relationship or revealing it to the outside world will result in its destruction, and the fairy lady has to vouch for Lanval’s goodness to the court in Camelot, just as Karen stoutly defends Frank to the court of public opinion/literally everyone. In some sense, while the knight has to rescue the fair maiden, the fair maiden is also the arbitrator of his fate and his overall reputation. (Also, all of TP 1x10 is  basically Lancelot, the Knight of the Cart, in which Lancelot must rescue the abducted Guinevere from Meleagant, and having to struggle with the revelation of this relationship and the fact they can’t be together and the dictates of public/proper behavior. Anyway.)

Lastly, Frank’s initial and final conflicts, and the overall shape of his quest, are dictated by his encounters with two archvillains: Billy Russo and William Rawlins, or “Agent Orange.” These are made especially painful for him by the fact that they are or were both close to him. Billy was his best friend, essentially part of his family, and as noted, there is a major theme in chivalric literature revolving around a betrayal (and subsequent murder) by those closest to you. We already discussed King Arthur being overthrown and killed by his incestuous illegitimate son, Mordred; the best-known version of that tale is of course Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur, though only the seventh book, as linked above, actually tells the story of Arthur’s death. There is also Arthur’s half-sister and Mordred’s usual mother Queen Morgause; in the Morte, she is killed by her son Gaheris for committing adultery with Sir Lamorak and dishonoring her husband, King Lot. So in one sense, the knight is always doomed to face a betrayal from within his family, or from a close friend.

However, Billy Russo is also straight-up one of the demon knights of Perlesvaus, or, The High History of the Holy Grail. In Perlesvaus, Lancelot is haunted by the specter of these demon knights, who engage in a dark mockery of chivalric behavior, excesses of violence, and satanic imagery, and are otherwise the “dark side of the force” of honorable knighthood, as Richard Kaeuper puts it in Chivalry and Violence in Medieval Europe. Honor and chivalry are not permanent or unchangeable qualities, and in fact are very fragile. The perfect knight can and should have both of these, but he can also lose them very quickly by impious, dishonorable, murderous, or otherwise wrong actions. The demon knights are a metaphor and a commentary on the same tension we discussed in regard to Frank and Matt: when does a knight-errant become a bad knight? When does his behavior permanently transgress him and cast him beyond the reach of repentance? Billy outwardly embodies the same qualities as Frank, has been through the same wars, is part of the same order, but he isn’t a hero on a quest whose chivalric identity can eventually be reconciled to him. He has crossed too far to the wrong side of the line; now he is the embodiment of evil, a shadow parallel and a cautionary tale. He is not a knight-errant, he is merely a monster.

Then, of course, there’s Rawlins/Agent Orange. Noting the fact that his nickname is also color-coded, we can see some parallels to Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. In short, in this tale, a mysterious “Green Knight” challenges any man to strike him, with the condition that he will get to return the blow in a year and a day. Sir Gawain accepts and beheads him, after which the Green Knight stands up, picks up his head, and remains Gawain of his promise. Gawain has to struggle to both honorably keep his bargain and avoid dying, and is eventually struck at in return by the Green Knight, wounded, but not killed. In some interpretations, this has just been a test all along for Gawain to prove his honor, or an attempt by Morgana to deceive him and cause him to betray his chivalric ideals, and the Green Knight is just a pawn to achieve this. In others, the Green Knight is a potential embodiment of the Devil. (He also has a dual identity, as the Green Knight/Sir Bertilak, as Rawlins does.) Frank strikes at/beheads/blinds Rawlins, as seen in the flashbacks of TP 1x03, so Rawlins literally wants to do the same to him (an eye for an eye) in TP 1x12. In the story, Gawain and the Green Knight part on cordial terms, but in this case, Frank has to actually complete the death/destruction of his opponent. Like Gawain, however, he is wounded but not killed, and must find some way to survive his encounter with a possibly demonic entity determined to pay back in exact measure the physical wound/symbolic beheading inflicted earlier.

So. . . yes. Overall, both in the broad parameters of his character arc, in the obstacles he confronts, and the other people he meets and the encounters he plays out with them, Frank is actually an excellent hero for a modern-medieval romance. The essential core of the medieval romance was not about love, though that was often present, but about identity, adventure, and the challenge to self, and while in some places these tropes have been updated or nuanced or subverted, in others they’re played as recognizably or directly descended from their medieval counterparts, and the way in which we have thought about stories and enjoyed them for a very long time.

[brotherfaithsisterdoubt]

Extended Scene – Ch. 19, Gay and Christian

This is bonus content for the Supernatural fanfic Polish Prayers by DestielHisEyesOpened

Word count: 1,319

Notes:

The theologian mentioned in this scene is Rev. Dr. James H. Cone

More on queer theology and gay Christians: • UnClobber YouTube playlist • Romans 1:26-27: A Clobber Passage That Should Lose Its Wallop • Clobbering "Biblical" Gay Bashing • Two odd little words: the LGBT issue

Content Warnings: • Brief but explicit reference to sex • Brief mention of suicide and other consequences of homophobia • Brief references, in a historical context, to sexual abuse of children and enslaved people

Dean took a sip of his iced tea. “So, uh, I was wondering,” he said. He wasn't sure this was the best idea, but the question had been nagging at his mind all week. “How is it that you can be gay and Christian? Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with it!” he rushed to add. “I'm just curious, cause, you know. So many religious folks do.”

Boy did they, Dean added silently. He'd never forget that one hookup who, after spending half the night balls-deep in Dean's ass, left a tract about the evils of homosexuality on the motel nightstand.

Alfie put the half-carved bench down on his lap. “Well for me, there's really one Bible verse that settles it. Matthew 7:16, from the Sermon on the Mount. 'You will know them by their fruits.' A good tree bears good fruit, a bad tree bears bad fruit, I'm sure you're heard the passage. It's from the Sermon on the Mount.”

Dean hesitated, then nodded slowly. That rang a vague bell? Maybe?

“Well, what are the fruits of homophobia? Self-loathing, broken families, kids thrown out onto the street, violence, suicide, murder… And the fruits of accepting queer people as we are? Loving relationships, healthy self-esteem, intact families… So yeah, by Jesus’s own words, it’s pretty clear which one is good and which one is bad!”

“I guess,” said Dean. “But aren't there other verses that, uh, aren't so friendly?”

Alfie nodded. “Yeah, the 'clobber passages.'” he sighed. “Thing is, you can't just take a verse out of context and say, 'this is what the Bible says.' You've got –” he clenched his fist “– to consider the larger context of the chapter, the book, and the Bible as a whole. And a major theme that runs through the entire Bible is liberation for the oppressed. Hell, one of the theologians I read in seminary outright said that if a theologian doesn't emphasize that point, they're not even doing Christian theology anymore! So using the Bible to oppress, instead of to liberate, is automatically an abuse of the text.”

Dean saw some motion out of the corner of his eye, and heard some rustling. He looked down into the garden and saw Cas crouched there, pulling up weeds. He stiffened a little – he wouldn't have brought this subject up if he'd known they'd have an audience. Well, fingers crossed that Cas was too far away to actually hear anything.

“Plus,” Alfie continued, “nearly all of us read translations, not the original texts. So words like 'homosexuality,' which was coined in the late 19th century? Never appears in the Bible. Not once. Our present-day concept of 'sexual orientation' didn't even exist back then.Their whole understanding of sexuality was super different from ours. So how could the writers condemn something they had no concept of? It's like asking if they condemned, I dunno, the internet!”

“So what exactly were they condemning, then?” asked Dean.

“Well if you look at their cultural context,” Alfie answered, “they're responding to stuff like pagan sex rituals, wild orgies, sex slaves, men having sex with boys… There isn't a single reference, negative or positive, to loving, respectful, consensual same-sex relationships between equals.

“Hell, back in first century Rome, they didn't even think of straight relationships in those terms. You know what Paul thought of straight sex?”

“Uh, only in marriage?” Dean guessed.

“Well yeah, but also, he wished everyone was celibate like him. Marriage was a second-best option for the weak. And even then, the point wasn't to have an acceptable outlet for sexual passion – it was to guard against it. That goes back to the idea in Stoic philosophy that all passions are bad and should be overcome,” said Alfie.”

“Wait, so if people weren't supposed to have sex, where did they expect babies to come from?”

“Oh, people could have sex,” answered Alfie. “They were just supposed to do it dispassionately. Passion destabilized society, and brought on destruction. The ideal man had perfect control over himself, his family, his household. So sex? Yes. But love? Desire? Nope.”

Dean blinked at Alfie. “That's… not how sex works,” he said.

Alfie smiled. “Now you're starting to see how different their understanding of sexuality was from ours.”

“Yeah, no kidding!” replied Dean. “That's just… not natural!”

“Not according to the Stoics,” said Alfie. “And it's pretty ironic, cause people say being gay is 'unnatural,' but you know what was considered completely natural and unremarkable in Paul's day?”

Dean shook his head.

“A man sleeping with his slaves. Male or female, with or without their assent. He was higher on the social ladder, slaves were lower, so he could fuck 'em. That's why they could molest boys, too. But two freeborn men? That was 'unnatural' because they were the same rank, and disgraceful because it treated one of them like a slave. Or, you know, a woman. Cause they weren't big on gender equality back then, either.”

“So if we don't think marriage is for chumps anymore, or women are inferior to men, or slavery should even be a thing, then it doesn't make sense to pretend the man-on-man stuff is still relevant, either,” said Dean.

“Exactly!” said Alfie. “And there's more. I'm not gonna bore you with a take-down of all six clobber passages, but just one example – the passage in Romans, chapter one? Yeah, that's completely out of context. Some scholars looked closely at the grammatical structure of chapters one and two, and concluded that chapter one's rant against sinful gentiles isn't Paul's own thoughts. He was actually quoting the kind of stuff that his audience would have heard before, and probably agreed with, just so he could turn around and say, 'Hey, cut the crap! This angry finger-pointing isn't good, Christian behavior!'”

“Wait,” said Dean, “so you're saying people are getting that passage exactly backwards?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” said Alfie.

“Sounds like you've put a lot of research into this,” Dean said.

Alfie shrugged. “I guess. Some, I learned in seminary. And the clobber passages are a big hurdle for a lot of folks, so it's good to have a grasp on them. For me personally though, they've never been that big a deal. Cause Jesus made me about a thousand times more gay. How could that happen, if he had a problem with it?”

“Wait, what? You're gonna have to run that by me one more time,” said Dean.

Alfie chuckled. “Before, I was pretty gay. I was out, I was proud, all that. But then Jesus happened, and I went from 'pretty gay' to ' rainbows literally shooting out my ass.'”

Dean nearly choked on his chocolate pudding

Alfie, chuckled at Dean's reaction, then clarified what he meant. “He made me understand other marginalized people's humanity better, which helped me understand my own better, too. I had no clue how much internalized homophobia I was carrying around until that burden was lifted.”

Dean was a little confused. “Didn't you say you grew up Christian, though?”

“Yeah, but honestly, I thought it was full of shit,” said Alfie. “I left the church for fifteen years before learning how Christianity could actually make sense. But that's a whole 'nother conversation. Point is, loving someone when society says it's wrong, that takes a lot of heart. And I just can't imagine that God would call it a flaw to have too much heart. Hell, I'll go even further. If love is from God – and it is – then homophobia is blasphemy.”

Dean gave a low whistle. Strong words. “Maybe you should give the Pope a crash course on this stuff when he comes,” Dean joked.

Alfie gave him the side-eye. “Yeah, cause that would go over so well, I'm sure!”

[rainbowannabeth]

A Theory for Answer

Hey so I don’t normally ever write about the theories surrounding BTS’ MVs, because let’s be real, I would be here all day.

I have found something I have noticed that has started to become more apparent within the MVs, notes, etc.

So for those who remember the Wings Short Films, each film ended with a circle becoming something to represent one of them, and in the case of three of them, combine with another member.

Now the MVs and short films have shown us the same three pairs: Yoongi/Jungkook, RM/V, and Jimin/JHope.

Each of these pairs seemingly have something significant for each other.

However, we see after short films #4-6 that Jungkook and RM’s circle combine, as well as V and Hoseok, and Jimin and Yoongi.

But why?

We see the OG pairs have their own troubles that happened because of them being in each other’s presence.

Yoongi and JK’s fight (as seen in the Run MV)

RM and V grafetting things and getting in trouble with the law, and later RM unable to answer V’s phone call (Wings Short films # 3 and 5).

JM accidentally bumping into Hoseok’s girl-friend and Hoseok leaving Jimin behind to take the girl to the hospital. (Highlight Reel)

LY Tear was all about the bad parts of love and things that happen that can make us heartbroken, or whatever. While these pairs struggle before the tear era, what if these struggles the pairs go through indirectly reference Tear’s concept. It may not be the bad parts of romantic love, but friendships as well.

Jin’s role is being strongly supported as a time-traveler and trying to save each of the boys from suffering from their consequences. However, he keeps failing in one way or another.

Which leads me back to the pairs that are given in the short films.

What if these pairs (JK/RM, V/JH, JM/S) are the ANSWER to Jin’s dilemma? The answer to the boys’ sufferings is love themselves, and the way of doing this is leave behind the cause of the sufferings. Even if that includes leave behind some of the boys.

These pairs hinted in the Wings short films will help each other love themselves and save them from their sufferings.

In the recent notes:

Jimin wants to go back to the arboretum and asks Yoongi to go with him:

“In the end, I had to go to the Flowering Arboretum...Yoongi hyung came and sat next to me after I’d already let three buses go by...From far off, the shuttle bus for the arboretum was coming. The bus stopped and the door opened. The driver looked at me. On impulse I spoke, ‘Hyung, do you want to come with me?’” (Jimin 19 May Year 22)

JK is with RM at his container:

“...Due to someone shaking my shoulder, I opened my eyes. It was Namjoon. Strangely enough, a feeling of security fell upon me...I nodded my head. And then I spoke. ‘Will I be able to become an adult like you?’ Namjoon hyung turned to look at me. (Jungkook 2 May Year 22)

Hoseok stops V from killing his father and being there for him afterwards (V and Hoseok 20 May Year 22)

Before this, each of the boys were on paths of self-destruction or destruction of others. Suddenly, these pairs together are seeming to heal one another. It is clearly these pairs are connected.

JK and RM both came from families that were not ideal. JK had an abusive step-brother and mother didn’t care. RM’s father was sick, and he ran away from home. Both the boys wanted to be free from their burdened lives. This is why we see the same raven imagery in their short films.

V and Hoseok grew up without a mother, a mother who abandoned them. V’s father was abusive and Hoseok grew up in an orphanage for ~10 years. There’s a popular theory that the two are separated brothers, supported by the fact they both see the same imagery of the woman holding a child, titled with EVA, in their respective short films.

Jimin and Yoongi’s relationship isn’t exactly clear but they have opposing themes (fire and water). We still do not know what happened to Jimin at the Arboretum, but let’s assume he witnessed a death there, which would certainly cause PTSD and the seizures. If this is indeed the case, both the boys are connected by witnessing the death of someone they knew. Jimin is afraid of the Arboretum and Yoongi is afraid, or at least refuses, to play the piano ever again.

Perhaps their connections can help them heal and to eventually love themselves, and thus avoid their destructive behaviors.

Sorry if this theory is kind of scattered, but this is the first one I’ve written. I hope my points make any sense haha.

[hopelesschromantic]

2017 Songs of My Year

2017 was traumatic for everyone, wasn’t it? And I was no exception. I learned a lot about myself in 2017, formed new relationships and suffered some collateral damage along the way.

In a way, this list is more personal than the years since I started this tradition in 2010, maybe in part because 2017 cut me deeper than a lot of years I’ve had. The highs were high, the lows were real low, and the learning curve was steep indeed.

January 

Frankie Knuckles, I’ll Take You There (ft. Jamie Principle)

The night of January 1, 2017, I sat in a loose state of undress on my living room floor, high and over-warm, in a state of mounting, spiraling dread. We listened to a Frankie Knuckles Boiler Room on Youtube and I struggled to find to words to explain that, eleven days after tying the knot, I knew something was very wrong and I didn’t know how to put it right. I missed my family at the ceremony. I missed the ocean. I missed feeling healthy and vital; the disease in my gut and the medication for it was already starting to exact a brutal toll on me. I missed not feeling afraid. Trump was about to be inaugurated. Christmas vacation was already over and the post-holiday and party slump was hitting me hard. The only thing that soothed me in those late hours were the synesthetic sunshine yellow chords from Frankie Knuckles promising that maybe it wasn’t as bad as I feared.

February

Just Us, Cloudbusting

February was a slight upturn with only patches of stomach churning horror and my mind turned to future training and projects as I took on new challenges at work and tried to ignore the continued dread that seeped into the edges of my life. The best thing about February was undoubtedly taking a trip to Edmonton to see one of my best friends, Eric. A dark mood hung over me that I couldn’t disguise but this old and faithful cover of one of my favorite Kate Bush songs buoyed me during the schlep from Saskatoon to Edmonton. Like the sun coming out, I just know that something good is going to happen echoes the audacious, sparkling optimism of the Frankie Knuckles track above. Despite the reality that it wasn’t *just us* I sang along to this song like a mantra. Just us, just us. Bust those clouds open and let in the sun.

March 

Goldfrapp, Ocean

I opened the month by drunkenly having sex with someone I shouldn’t while I was blacked out and the self-sabotage only continued. I learned I was capable of twisting myself in knots to belong, just like I’d done as a little girl and later a teenager. Don’t leave me behind. Take me with you. Once a passenger, always a passenger. As I fell for someone who never cared for me, I found myself unable to sleep, in a constant state of panic and dread, waiting for a confrontation I knew would never come, all the while terrified I would be quietly edged out of my own life, replaced by someone who didn’t even want my life. The intensity I felt was misdirected at the woman who became the object of my fascination, not because of anything about her but because of the lengths I’d go to participate in my own life as it went further off the rails. No boundaries. Let your love consume you and burn you to the wick. 

Goldfrapp’s “Ocean” reminds me of both the woman and myself; I’m the titular ocean, vast and mercurial and she’s the narrator of the song, the people collector, the one who wouldn’t lie. But of course she would.

April

Yaeji, Passionfruit

April was more tranquil, for me at least. I’ve learned I overcome pain and humiliation quickly, and that’s a blessing at least. This tranquil remix of Drake’s Passionfruit played a lot during the month of April, with it’s cold lyrical indictments, muted vocals, deep, ebbing beats, all delivered in distant, minimal space. It echoed my emotions well. Numb, healing, detached. I still hadn’t felt the return of my sense of safety, the seismic sense that my love life and my health could change at any moment would stay with me for months to come.

May 

Joe Goddard, Music is the Answer

By May I had enough distance from the misery of March and April that I could catch my breath. My world had shrunk over the past few years and I felt a powerful need to expand it, to connect with people outside my small circle, with the hopes of establishes more people in my life who wouldn’t take my energy and warmth for granted, people who wouldn’t be compelled to compare me unfavorably to my partner. I was missing the kind of intimacy that comes from having someone in your life beyond your partner, people who care deeply about you and is warm and caring and intimate. May was a month of burgeoning connections and false starts, like a false spring, but a spring nonetheless. Joe Goddard’s video heightens the track, the lost war satellite in search of its target, not unlike my nascent forays into finding a connection to someone far, far away.

June 

Kaityn Aurelia Smith, An Intention

In June we went to Calgary to visit one of my best friends, Alan, and managed to see Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith at Studio Bell, a cavernous and breathtaking cathedral of music in Calgary’s East Village. KAS stood in front of us with her analogue synth and her trippy light show and for the length of her show I was suspended in this psychedelic pastoral wetland, all shimmering tadpoles and dividing cells. I came away from the experience euphoric, feeling like I’d transcended something immense, learned important secrets of creation.

July 

Brandon Flowers, Never Get You Right

I revisited this song when I was feel particularly alone as my attempts to connect to different people around me crumbled before me and I heard some bad reviews of my behavior through the grapevine. Was it worth it, trying to be known and understood? Is that all I wanted? Or was I asking for too much? Was there anyone I could connect with enough that I trusted their review or was I really at sea? They’ll turn you into something whether you are it or not. Yes of course, a worthwhile reminder that this misunderstanding, this feeling of being unknowable and isolated isn’t particular to me but instead a universal.

August 

Carly Rae Jepson, Cut to the Feeling

August long weekend started with one of my best friends Chris coming to Saskatoon. We had an amazing time, the highlight of which was Brock’s DJ set at Pink. CRJ reminds me of Chris and when Brock played this song, the room lit up and I had the rare and glorious feeling that I was in exactly the right place at exactly the right time.

September

Galantic - Hey Alligator

It’s sugary and gay and over the top as all Galantis is want to be but this song soundtracked the last of lonely Saturday nights at home, flitting about the kitchen cooking or chatting up veritable strangers on the internet, which was not ultimately a particularly gay activity but this track makes me feel like the last word in gay. Some of the relationships I’d formed online at that time had started to go septic and I started wondering what it was about me that lead me to seek out such unsatisfying and ultimately destructive connections. My introspection started with this song and continued over the coming months.

October

Shura, White Light

If I had a single song that spoke to my personal process and internal conflict this year, it was this one. Morgan put me on to it, indeed put it on me, and I became addicted to it, playing it literally dozens of times and in every mood. Shura’s sweet, breathy voice purrs intimately on the track while electropop burbles around her. Her lyrics speak to a blinding intensity, a seductive and almost alien nature or for my purposes a fictive personality manufactured to elicit validation but ultimately flimsy. But at the same time I felt like a part of me that had never been properly seen was given space to flourish. Intense and intimate, this aspect of myself could give with abandon because the people I was giving to were many miles away, sometimes on different continents, a safe distance for my heart and body and real life, practically in space. You're from another planet/And I'd like you to take me there/You can fly your alien spaceship

November 

Miguel, Told You So 

November swam by so quickly. In the first couple weeks Eric came to visit completely by surprise and we had the most ideal, chill time and I’ve been craving it ever since.

Miguel’s War and Leisure is without a doubt one of my favorite albums of the year and Told You So was my favorite track. The song is pure romance, sunlight, promises of fantasy and romance and escape and yet we from Miguel that the video for this track is a protest video, shot in the desert, missiles falling in the sky just as others launch. There’s an air of dread and voyeurism to the video, meant to refer to the political world in the Trump era but it felt true of my life too. Did I really understand all the changes I’d undergone in 2017? For good and for ill? The practice I’d had setting boundaries but also the increasing social anxiety? The strain that living more truthfully had put on my closest relationships? 

December

Sasha ft. Poliça, Out of Time

I don’t usually have much to say to trance as a musical genre but this track is a common thread throughout my 2017. Brock played this track to great appreciation at the rainy and isolated little Solstice Festival back in June and reprised it, mostly for me, at a miserable, failing Saskatoon club called Eclipse in the first week of December. 

This track is airy, cavernous, with juicy, acidy beats throughout and Channy Leaneagh’s throaty, disembodied voice haunting the track. Yes, we are out of time. Out of time for Christmas. Out of time to change, to do better in 2017. Time moves so much faster than I handle and it scares me.

Song of the Year: 

The 1975, Somebody Else

I’ve listened to this song with all my friends, Brock and Morgan most of all. Definitely most played in 2017. 

Ignore if you want the three minute Lynchian introduction that carries on from where Change of Heart leaves off, but I can’t. Twin Peaks was a part of my year and the Lynch references with the doppelgangers and rabbits on the wall were impossible to ignore. Matty Healy splits himself into twos, threes, fours, and more as he mourns what he’s lost and revels in self-pity, excess and self-destruction. It all seems terribly familiar.

In the video for this track, Matty Healy wanders through the ugly concrete cityscape that I think is Manchester, surrounded by green-blue twilight, neon lights, reflective surfaces and gathering storms. He undersings all but the bridges, were his gently screwed and chopped voice hits registers beyond his range, translating on the track to keen and visceral pining interspersed with chilly ambivalence--my entire process of untangling my mind, my desires from someone else’s. 

Over the course of the song I lose track of Matty Healy’s gender and orientation, mostly because he invites it, but in that moment it’s easy for me to assume his perspective--something I usually find impossible in bands with guitars fronted by men. In that moment I’m thinking about who I am with and without love in my life, how I choose to define myself in and outside of relationships and my role in shaping them. This year has seen huge growth and painful realizations for my heart and head but the way forward is through.

[frederickwiddowson]

Exodus 36:1-7 comments: the concept of "enough" rather than "more"

Exodus 36:1 ¶  Then wrought Bezaleel and Aholiab, and every wise hearted man, in whom the LORD put wisdom and understanding to know how to work all manner of work for the service of the sanctuary, according to all that the LORD had commanded. 2  And Moses called Bezaleel and Aholiab, and every wise hearted man, in whose heart the LORD had put wisdom, even every one whose heart stirred him up to come unto the work to do it: 3  And they received of Moses all the offering, which the children of Israel had brought for the work of the service of the sanctuary, to make it withal. And they brought yet unto him free offerings every morning. 4  And all the wise men, that wrought all the work of the sanctuary, came every man from his work which they made; 5  And they spake unto Moses, saying, The people bring much more than enough for the service of the work, which the LORD commanded to make. 6 And Moses gave commandment, and they caused it to be proclaimed throughout the camp, saying, Let neither man nor woman make any more work for the offering of the sanctuary. So the people were restrained from bringing. 7  For the stuff they had was sufficient for all the work to make it, and too much.

 This passage is very interesting for a number of reasons. First, Moses writes about the wise-hearted being willing. God put wisdom in their hearts and they had a desire to work for Him. He gave the willing the skills they needed to serve Him. Bezaleel and Aholiab will also teach the willing, verse 34. Having a willing heart, being taught in a skill, and God imparting wisdom is important as all part of the same process. In modern society we often view reality through the too many movies and TV shows we’ve watched expecting some magic moment of sudden insight to come upon someone who may have shown no previous interest in a subject but are suddenly drawn to it and find they have great innate talent and skill. But, in the Bible we see cases of people who first have a desire, prepare themselves or are prepared by others, and then given wisdom by God. If we get back to the idea that all understanding comes from God on a willing heart prepared for the work then so much more would be opened to us of use. But, the current paradigm is that some men and women are so brilliant that they create within themselves by themselves some great skill. This is rubbish thinking.

Proverbs 2:6  For the LORD giveth wisdom: out of his mouth cometh knowledge and understanding.

 Ecclesiastes 2:26  For God giveth to a man that is good in his sight wisdom, and knowledge, and joy: but to the sinner he giveth travail, to gather and to heap up, that he may give to him that is good before God. This also is vanity and vexation of spirit.

 1Kings 4:29  And God gave Solomon wisdom and understanding exceeding much, and largeness of heart, even as the sand that is on the sea shore.

 Daniel 2:21  And he changeth the times and the seasons: he removeth kings, and setteth up kings: he giveth wisdom unto the wise, and knowledge to them that know understanding:

 James 1:5  If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.

 Wisdom and understanding is given for a purpose. Why do you think that mankind has been propelled “forward” in the last century? Is it because we are so much smarter than our ancestors? Is it because of some kind of fluctuation in the magnetic field of the earth or some other explanation? In the last century we’ve made more technological strides than in the previous three thousand years. And the modern person just thinks that we are just that much smarter than people were in the past. If you believe the Bible, though, you can see God’s hand in history.

This passage has some interesting applications to working in the church family. A person who is willing to do something even outside of their comfort zone and is willing to be taught by others with more experience and understanding will be given, the understanding they need to do something successfully.

Finally, there is enough. The stuff is not stored for later use. What is needed is all that God wants to collect. This brings to mind a principle that God stresses repeatedly in the Bible for us personally that although not related directly to the service given in Exodus by the Israelites has some import for us to consider. We are to pray for what we need today.

Matthew 6:11  Give us this day our daily bread.

 Luke 11:3  Give us day by day our daily bread.

 We are to ask for what we need today, not a huge surplus to grow fat and contemptuous of our need for God from. In reference to the events of chapter 16 in regard to the collection of Manna, Paul wrote to the Christians of his day.

 2Corinthians 8:7 ¶ Therefore, as ye abound in every thing, in faith, and utterance, and knowledge, and in all diligence, and in your love to us, see that ye abound in this grace also. 8  I speak not by commandment, but by occasion of the forwardness of others, and to prove the sincerity of your love. 9  For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich. 10  And herein I give my advice: for this is expedient for you, who have begun before, not only to do, but also to be forward a year ago. 11  Now therefore perform the doing of it; that as there was a readiness to will, so there may be a performance also out of that which ye have. 12  For if there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according to that a man hath, and not according to that he

hath not. 13  For I mean not that other men be eased, and ye burdened: 14  But by an equality, that now at this time your abundance may be a supply for their want, that their abundance also may be a supply for your want: that there may be equality: 15 As it is written, He that had gathered much had nothing over; and he that had gathered little had no lack.

 The Bible clearly is in opposition to the American ideal of dreaming of being rich, buying a yacht, never having to work again.

Proverbs 23:4  Labour not to be rich: cease from thine own wisdom.

 Paul lays out the ideal for Christians.

 1Thessalonians 4:11  And that ye study to be quiet, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you; 12  That ye may walk honestly toward them that are without, and that ye may have lack of nothing.

 We need to learn to trust God for what we need today.

 Matthew 6:25 ¶  Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment? 26 Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? 27  Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature? 28  And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: 29  And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30  Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? 31 ��Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? 32  (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. 33  But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. 34  Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

 Philippians 4:19  But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

 We must always remember the dangers of putting the pursuit of money ahead of obedience to God.

1Timothy 6:6 ¶  But godliness with contentment is great gain. 7 For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. 8  And having food and raiment let us be therewith content. 9 But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition. 10  For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.

 Capitalism and its mirror image, Socialism, along with its offshoot, Materialism, have one abiding principle that keeps them all going. It can be summed up in one word. That word is “more.” But the Biblical principle is, “enough.” This isn’t to say that savings or insurance are wrong, sinful, or show a lack of faith. God honors prudent behavior, responsible behavior, in our personal dealings. It is the attitude that desiring to be wealthy fosters in the Christian heart that God does not like. When we have plenty, more than enough, even a great surplus, we tend not to depend upon God for our daily lives but depend on the money or the possessions, which is idolatry.

Luke 16:13  No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

 Saying that you should be rich because if you have a lot of money you can do a lot of good is akin to saying that it’s okay for you to be a card-dealer in a casino because you’ll have access to a lot of people to witness to for Christ. It’s a worthless dodge, a pathetic excuse, and a meaningless self-justification of one’s own lack of faith in God and one’s bloated sense of self-worship. In the 1800s in America the most popular sermon, judged by how many thousands of times it was supposedly preached, was called Acres of Diamonds, written by the founder of Temple University, a Baptist preacher. It extolls the virtues of being rich and claims that the richest people are the best people and they do the most good. This celebration of the wealthy is evidence of the spiritual state of the typical postmillennialist American evangelical of the nineteenth century. It is never good to have enough, never good to be satisfied or content, and trusting the Lord is fine, in their book, as long as you satisfy your insatiable lust for more and are never happy with having enough. Based on the Bible’s clear statements would you say this the attitude that God wants from Christians?

[anettrolikova]

Elities - groups that have some sort of rules. They can be black, white, woman, man... Those are examples of elites.

They are differing themselves usually by their political views.

- Elites are a constant and arguably necessary presence in history. Political revolutions that try to do away with elites invariably seem to either fail quickly, or install new elites without meaning to.

- the concept of an elite is not dependent on a particular structure of society. Elites might be kings, nobles, elected leaders, bureaucrats, scholars, scientists, priests, cult leaders, media leaders, business executives, or subcultural inner circles. The prevailing idea of masses is induced by the prevailing idea of elites as a complement.

- The nobility might have a privileged code of law, but they are still governed by a rule of law, even if it’s not the same one as applies to non-elites. 

- A big part of the stability of this condition is personal social capital: knowing the right people, with the right level of trust, to get rules bent or interpreted in your favor. Or being treated as an exception. Or in the extreme case, laws simply made to your specifications to benefit you and disadvantage others. In the most extreme case, they simply don’t apply to you.

- if you look back at history, it looks like a series of experiments in elitism rather than a series of experiments in governance. Some of them end well, some end badly. But all of them end. The conceptualization of an elite class is not stable.

- the economy of elitism is sort of system independent, and is based on personal trust and social-capital based computing within a calculus of privileges — exemptions from the law.

- Think of them as blue pills. How you feel about these noble lies, or blue pills, is a big part of your philosophy of elitism.

- There is what is sometimes called Straussian elitism, which is generally conservative, but not always, and is based on the paternalistic belief that elites lying to the masses for their own good is a good thing. So you get a distinction between esoteric elite red-pill knowledge and exoteric, non-elite blue-pill knowledge meant for the general public.

- To the extent the elites are agents of the will of society at large, there is just so much detail involved in the exercise of actual power that there is no possible way all of it could be made transparent to everybody. At best you can be slightly less opaque and unaccountable than the last crowd.

- One reason is of course that elites have power and they use that power to keep themselves in power even as structural definitions and models of elitism change, become more or less informal, and ideologically different and so on. 

- The psychological function of elites appears to be to model how life can and ought to be lived. But this is a pretty loose specification.

- Anti-elite philosophy and philosophers are also necessarily elite simply by virtue of how their influence operates.

- There’s many theories of this psychological function. There is a basic ethics theory of people just wanting guidance on how to have a good life, and looking for teachers. There is the theory of elites as surrogate parental figures. There is the Girardian theory of mimetic envy. Each theory explains some aspects and some situations well, and others poorly, but the point is, that psychological function exists. Elites are models of how to live life.

- Once an elite class has turned into this kind of inward-focused blackhole unmoored from the larger universe, it’s only a matter of time before it self-destructs. With or without help from the revolting masses. It doesn’t really matter how much power they have. Their hold on that power is a function of the strength of their connection to the world.

- Already you see weird kinds of new elites, like online personalities, offline protest coordinators, skilled hackers, and people who are good at crafting spectacles like videos of bad “Karen” behavior. Much of this gets labeled populism, but it’s important to note that each of these manifestations of so-called populism comes with its own breed of new elites, mostly descended from old elites.

- The elite wars have really gotten going now, because everybody senses old institutions are dying, and emerging ones are at the point in their evolution where they are ripe for capture by one faction of wannabe elites or another.

- If you want to define this function more precisely, I think it has to do with the idea that humans are ideally the measure of the world, not the other way around, and privilege is about being among those who get to measure the world rather than being measured by it, and in doing so, create ways to measure non-elites. 

- The price of your privilege — which, remember, is special, personalized treatment under private law via access to social capital — is that you are expected to be at the forefront of relating to the wider world, and taking its measure on behalf of all humans. Which means facing uncertainty, and taking on risks, physical, intellectual, and psychological. This is why there is a natural relationship between being a member of the elite, and being expected to lead in the fullest sense of the word.

- To be non-elite in 2020, on the other hand, is to be measured in a hundred different industrial-bureaucratic ways. The world measures you. Height, weight, gender, wealth, skin color, zip code, credit score, criminal record, degrees, job titles, parentage, and so on. This is what makes you part of the industrial-age masses. 

- If you think you aren’t elite now, or won’t be elite in the future, your part of the equation is to ask, first, whether you think elites are necessary, and if so what kind you want. A way to restate that question is to ask: how do you want to measure yourself against the world? The elites you want are the ones measuring the world itself in a complementary way.

- Your main challenge is spotting real courage facing the world, which does not lie in facing competing elites. If your chosen elites are elites primarily by virtue of battling or beefing with the elites you don’t choose, they are not good elites, and you are not choosing particularly good elites to define who you are. Both of you are going to be miserable.

- may the best elites win, and may the best measure of the masses prevail.

[myfuckingpoetrt]

Trying to leave driveway

Found shortcut

Fake Halloween decor Gravestone covering path had to move it

Trees grass dirt

Graveyard at apartment corner of driveway real

Fake halloween gravestones stored there by lazy neighbors not taking them down

Fixing all of it to make it look good

Add my own

Concrete statue of Asian woman in chunky sandals capris and take too

Statue kept falling

Fell to pieces

Halloween Pooh Bear statue I owned and left there

Took back to my own porch

Decided to do more organizing and decorating

Going through storage box

Halloween masks Jon and I made

Jons witch mask ripped in half mine was fine

Pooh Bear in pumpkin concrete

Alien decorations

Moving from table to table to find best rearrangment

Rearranging furniture

Fish tank

Plugged in too hot

Water too low

Add a little tap water

Overflows

Afraid killed fish by shock

Afraid fish flopped out

Tank wouldn’t fit on any tables

Would slide off or tip over

Had to catch it

Asked Jon for help because of it getting hot

He accidentally splashed water onto the floor and it (like acid) exposed the apartment beneath us

Too dark in there to see

Saw a large pipe with water spitting out

She was home said she’d let josh know so he could help

She was average/thinner weight

Brown hair past shoulders

Woke up

Driveway

To see or drive up to a driveway in your dream symbolizes an end to your journey. It also represents security and rest. Alternatively, it denotes your path toward achieving inner peace and finding your spirituality.

To see rocks on the driveway refers to a rocky end to some journey.

Driving

To dream that you are driving a vehicle signifies your life's journey and your path in life. The dream is telling of how you are moving and navigating through life.

If your view is blocked or obstructed while you are driving, then it symbolizes your lacking awareness of something in your life. You are overlooking certain aspects in your life. Alternatively, the dream indicates dangers or problems that are not yet made known to you.

Obstacle

To see or experience obstacles in your dream represent things in your life that you need to overcome. The dream is offering you a solution on how to approach and tackle a problem in your waking life. You may have some self-doubt in your abilities and in coming to a decision.

Statue

To see people you know as statues in your dream symbolize a lack of communication with that person You feel that the relationship is inflexible, unyielding or going nowhere. Alternatively, it may represent someone you idealize and admire. You are putting someone on a pedestal. Perhaps the dream is analogous to their statuesque and nice figure.

Grave

To dream that you are at a grave indicates that you need to delve into your own subconscious in search of an issue that you thought had been put to rest. You need to stand up for yourself for no one else can do it for you. Alternatively, it represents something is about to be completed in your life. You are leaving behind the old and making a new start. The dream may also be a pun on feeling grave or concerns about a serious or sad situation.

Headstone

To see a headstone in your dream represents a forgotten or buried aspect of yourself which you need to acknowledge. Consider also the message on the headstone. It may indicate a statement about your life and its condition.

Cemetery

To dream that you are in a cemetery indicates an end to a habit or behavior. You are experiencing a rebirth. More directly, the dream may symbolize sadness, unresolved grief or your fears about death.

To dream that you are cleaning the cemetery suggests that you are coming clean about your past. In some Asian cultures, a special holiday revolves around surviving members of the family visiting and cleaning the gravesites of the deceased as a way to pay their respects. Thus in this regard, your dream may mean to respect your past and where you came from.

Halloween

To dream of Halloween signifies death and the underworld. Halloween also represents the temporary adoption of a new persona where you feel less inhibited and more comfortable to freely express yourself. You may also be trying to hide your true self. Alternatively, dreaming of Halloween reflects your childhood and the corresponding feelings that you associated with the holiday.

Mask

To see someone wearing a mask in your dream denotes that you are struggling against deceit, falsehood, and jealousy. If someone removes their mask, then it symbolizes failure in gaining the admiration and/or respect of someone sought for.

Witch

To see a witch in your dream represents evil and destruction. It may point to your negative ideas of anything feminine and your experiences with dangerous or heartless women. Alternatively, a witch may be a symbol of goodness, power and enchantment depending on your feeling toward your dream witch.

Porch

To dream of a porch represents your personality, your social self, your facade and how you portray yourself to others. Consider the condition and size of the porch. In particular to dream of an enclosed porch suggests of your tendency to distance yourself from others and your desires for privacy. If the porch is open, then it signifies your outgoing nature and welcoming attitude.

Furniture

To dream that you are moving furniture indicates that you are going out of your way to please others. Also, you may be changing your ways and trying to reevaluate your relationships/attitudes. Consider how easy or how difficult it is to move the furniture as they may indicate the level of burden or responsibility you are feeling.

Dresser

To see a dresser in your dream represents aspects of yourself that you are hiding. It may refer to your intimate self or childhood self. You need to reevaluate these emotions and either discard or incorporate them into your daily life.

Table

To see a table in your dream represents social unity and family connections. If the table is broken, wobbly or not functional, then it suggests some dissension in a group. It may also refer to a sense of insecurity. Perhaps there is something you cannot hold inside any longer and need to bring it out in the open.

Organize

To dream that you are organizing means that you need to sort out some issue in your life. You need order and stability. Consider what you are organizing and how it parallels an issue in your waking life. Alternatively, the dream signifies that you are in a rut. Life has become mundane and monotonous.

Cleaning

To dream that you are cleaning implies that you are removing some negativity in your life and overcoming major obstacles. You are moving ahead toward a new stage in your life. In particular, if you are cleaning your house, then it means that you need to clear out your thoughts and get rid of your old ways and habits. You are seeking self-improvement. Alternatively, the dream may be a metaphor that you need to "come clean" or tell the whole truth about some situation or matter.

To dream that you are cleaning an object represents an aspect of yourself that is not working or functioning as well as it should.

Fish Tank

To see or clean a fish tank in your dream indicates how you have full control of your emotions. You keep your feelings in check. If you are watching the fish in the fish tank, then you may feel that your life is going nowhere or that you are going in circles with your life.

Boiling

To dream that something is boiling represents transformation and/or sacrifice. There is something that you need to get down to the heart of. In particular to dream that water is boiling suggests that you are expressing some emotional turmoil. It also may mean that feelings from your subconscious are surfacing and ready to be acknowledged.

Help

To dream that you are calling or signaling for help suggests that you are feeling lost, overwhelmed, and/or inadequate.

Fiancé

To see your fiancé in your dream symbolizes your waking relationship with him or her. Often dreams focus on suppressed feelings that you have yet to express to your fiancé.

Hole

To see a hole in the ground denotes hidden aspects of your activities. On the other hand, it may mean that you are feeling hollow or empty inside. This dream may be an awakening for you to get out and expose yourself to new interests and activities. Alternatively, the dream may be a pun on "wholeness" or completeness.

Water

To see water in your dream symbolizes your subconscious and your emotional state of mind. Water is the living essence of the psyche and the flow of life energy. It is also symbolic of spirituality, knowledge, healing and refreshment. To dream that water is boiling suggests that you are expressing some emotional turmoil. Feelings from your subconscious are surfacing and ready to be acknowledged. You need to let out some steam.

To see muddy or dirty water in your dream indicates that you are wallowing in your negative emotions. You may need to take some time to cleanse your mind and find internal peace. Alternatively, the dream suggests that your thinking/judgment is unclear and clouded. If you are immersed in muddy water, then it indicates that you are in over your head in a situation and are overwhelmed by your emotions.

To dream that water is rising up in your house suggests that you are becoming overwhelmed by your emotions.

To hear running water in your dream denotes meditation and reflection. You are reflecting on your thoughts and emotions.

To dream that you are walking on water indicates that you have total control over your emotions. It also suggests that you need to "stay on top" of your emotions and not let them explode out of hand. Alternatively, the dream is symbolic of faith in yourself.

Floor

To see the floor in your dream represents your support system and sense of security. You have a firm foundation that you can depend on. The floor in your dream may also symbolize the division between the subconscious and conscious. Alternatively, the dream may be a pun on being "floored" or being completely surprised. Perhaps you have been caught off guard about something.

To see a polished or waxed floor in your dream indicates that you are keeping your subconscious suppressed. Consider the condition of the floor for further analysis.

Neighbor

To dream of having a good neighbor signifies enjoyment and tranquility at home.

[ais-n]

Julian Files chapter 7

Julian Files master list + what is it?

There’s a lot I was going to say about the 2 month gap between posting the last update in this book, and why, and how this book is super draft mode. It takes too long to explain, though, so I may post it separately. For now I will just say:

I MAY NEED JULIAN FILES BETA READERS!

If you are interested, let me know--especially if you are a Boyd and/or Vivienne fan because you may have paid attention to details I might have forgotten in our many reworkings of ICoS.

As for this chapter, it’s one that some of you may have been waiting for, and others maybe never wanted to read.

Julian Files Chapter 7

Sunday July 17, 2005 Cedar Hills neighborhood Lexington, PA

Vivienne knelt in the dusty attic, the only place she felt safe from prying eyes. Her gaze, as always, strayed to the box that held her deepest treasure. And, as always, she made her gaze move away.

She had chosen her path and she did not regret it. She did not make choices lightly, and refused to question actions she had made to the best of her ability at any given time. Doubt was the path toward self destruction, as far as she was concerned; the path that only the weak and insecure took.

Still, there were days that drew her up here again, away from her husband, away the child that haunted this house. Up, up to where she could breathe freely with the trapdoor shut and the darkness surrounding her in comfort.

Cedrick was asleep, as was their son. Although Cedrick had difficulty falling asleep, once he achieved it he could sleep through anything. Their son never strayed from bed once he had settled in--whether it was because he slept through noises or was intelligent enough to not bother anyone, she did not know. It was a small thing she could be grateful for on nights like this. A small thing she wished could be part of a greater whole, but no matter how hard she tried it didn’t seem to happen.

When he had first come screaming into her arms, she had felt a detachment she had never expected. Exhaustion and a need to get away. From when he had been growing inside her to even now, years later, there were days on end where she barely wished to eat. Days where she found solace at her work because it was easier to concentrate on her expectations as a professional than it was to confront her inability to be the perfect mother, or even a proper mother at all. She was used to excelling at what she put her mind toward, yet her inability to meet even the most basic of expectations of motherhood felt like a betrayal; whether of her own mind and body, or of society, or of her son, or anything else, she could not always decide.

Perhaps it had been that or something else that had made his red, crying face bring to mind the image of the Nain Rouge. Vivienne had once met a woman from Detroit who, upon learning Vivienne was French, had talked at length about the Nain Rouge and how she viewed it.

Harbinger of doom, she called it. And Vivienne’s first sight of her only child had brought that swiftly to mind.

Vivienne had tried to ignore the thought, but perhaps her addled mind had known best. Only days later, the war had taken Vivienne’s family, and everything had twisted in Vivienne’s life from then on.

It was in memory of that family that she was here now.

As had been the case since she had birthed that child, she had been unable to sleep; caught forever in the shroud between dreams and the waking world. That restlessness had drawn her from the warmth of Cedrick’s side, down the quiet hallway, up the stairs, up the ladder, to sit with her knees pulled to her chest, where her gaze was drawn again, again to that box.

It was Amy’s birthday.

Did Cedrick remember this and pointedly not speak of it each year? Or had he forgotten, now that the date no longer held significance?

It would always be meaningful to Vivienne.

Today, Amy would have turned fifty. Today, Vivienne would have insisted on bringing her somewhere special; buying her something beautiful. She would have made Amy breakfast if Braeden or Cedrick had not. She would have sat by her side and felt the comfort of her presence.

.In a world that had not seemed ready to accept Vivienne since the sudden death of her parents when she was eight years old, Vivienne had grown accustomed to keeping everyone at a distance. She had come to expect negativity sent her way. It no longer bothered her, because her grandmother’s lessons had worked. Mireille had taught Vivienne how to live in a world like this and how to rise above it. To not care what others thought, so she could be free to do what she believed was best

Life is war, her grandmother had told her since she was brought, orphaned, to Mireille’s Parisian home. Do not lose yourself in the battles. Think always of the long strategy. If you plan ahead, you will always win.

She had taught Vivienne all of that, and yet a part of Vivienne had never stopped aching for the loving warmth she remembered of her mother’s arms. A part of her could not stop being that eight year old child, with the last memory of parents who smiled at her and held her close and sang soft, sweet French lullabies when she was tired or scared. She could not forget her mother, who had taught her how to ride her first horse, or her father who had given her a colt and had stayed by her side that first time she climbed astride, his hands spread to catch her if she should fall. A colt she had childishly named Venteux, for the feeling of the wind rushing past her when she rode.

No matter how hard Vivienne had tried, she could not make those memories disappear. No matter how much Mireille had helped her, that piece of Vivienne would not leave.

Still, Vivienne had thought she had successfully buried those memories, that past weak and vulnerable self, until she had walked into Cedrick’s childhood home for the first time.

Until she had met his mother Amy.

The bright smile that had filled Amy’s features; the open arms that had been there immediately, engulfing Vivienne before she had a chance to speak. That warm voice in her ear welcoming her with the Québécois accent Vivienne had teased Cedrick about in Paris. Amy’s accent was even a bit different than that, retaining a touch of her American Northeastern drawl pulling the vowels and consonants into a new shape.

She remembered the way Amy had anticipated Vivienne’s needs: the cup of tea or coffee she made before Vivienne even thought to ask; the presence of a woman at her side who understood, who didn’t judge, on the nights Vivienne had cried endlessly about her pregnancy and had been too scared to let Cedrick see.

The mother Vivienne had yearned for since her own had died, her birth mother denigrated by her grandmother again and again until Vivienne had thought love could only be a weakness, and idealism the greatest of crimes.

But then Cedrick had come into her life and he had brought his family with, and Vivienne had known the warmth of belonging again. She had known she wasn’t alone in this world, in this war known as life.

She had been wrong, perhaps, to believe in that future.

She had been foolish, it seemed, to forget her grandmother’s warnings.

It had all started with that Nain Rouge.

Child of misfortune; soulless it seemed at times, with eyes that burned their way through everything. Staring endlessly as a demon might at a city to learn and mimic human behavior.

She didn’t believe in demons; not really. She didn’t truly think him of the devil. There was nothing supernatural at work, in all likelihood.

And yet.

And yet, every hatred that had been visited upon her externally or internally, every loss she held gathered in empty arms, she felt could be tied back to the moment that child was conceived in thought. And most especially after he had been birthed into this world.

It was true that the hatred had started far earlier; true the loss had gone back to her childhood, long before he existed. But those small and large sufferings had happened in another country, what felt like another world and another life now far removed from her own.

Here was where she was supposed to have a new chance. Here, in North America.

And here was where he had made Amy die.

Cedrick’s family would have been safely in Canada if not for Boyd. They would not have been in Lexington, in that neighborhood where the bombs destroyed everything, if he had not been born the day he was born.

His birth was the dawn of the death of everyone Vivienne had left to love.

The bare light bulb moved subtly in a breeze she could never feel. The silence of this span of the house was refreshing and complete. The pressure she felt every waking moment, the suffocation of breathing, of existing, of moving through the everyday battle of life, felt at home here in this claustrophobic corner of their home.

She could see the war of life play out here, again and again, and here she could pause between the battles for fugitive, ephemeral rest.

And so this war had led her here, alone in a dusty attic, perched against a wall with her long hair catching and holding onto the rough wood. And she squeezed her tired, burning eyes shut to keep them from drifting again, again, to that box.

She had arrived in Paris with so little to her name; with only one item from her dead parents. She had left France, disowned, with so little in her possession.

But there was one thing she had been certain to bring. One trinket; the only gift she had left from her mother Alette.

She had wanted something from her grandmother who had been kind and loving, Alette’s mother Éliane who had joyfully shouted encouragement when Vivienne had rushed by on Venteux’s back. But Éliane had not wanted her, Mireille had told Vivienne; not after Alette was gone. And then Éliane had died. Like she deserved, Mireille had said, for birthing that demon Alette into the world.

Vivienne had not been permitted to bring any memories of Éliane or her mother to her new home. The only reason Mireille had let her keep her last and, now, only gift from her mother was because Vivienne had told Mireille it came from her father Jacques; from Mireille’s beloved son.

Everything else was gone; pared down to that singular souvenir now turned, unerringly, into a legacy.

Everything that mattered to that eight year old girl who had been told her parents were dead and now she had to move across the country to an estranged grandmother—everything for her was in that box.

Vivienne had thought she would show Amy, one day, this gift from her mother. She had believed, one day, she could see what her new mother thought of it.

That would never happen now.

Both of Vivienne’s mothers were dead.

Vivienne opened her eyes and watched the dust dance and gather in the yellow swatch of light.

“Joyeux anniversaire,” she whispered, a dry and catching voice in the night. “Je t’aime, maman.”

She pulled her legs closer to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She fell quiet, contemplative, and then continued the tradition she had secretly created from the time Amy had died.

There was no body for them to mourn; no true grave she could visit. Cedrick observed the anniversary of his family’s death, but Vivienne thought it was important, too, to remember the anniversary of his mother’s life.

And so, even though she was well aware Amy was dead and disintegrated and decomposed back into the earth, every year on July 17 she murmured about her day, about the past year of her life since she had last updated Amy.

Today, she told Amy about Boyd’s lessons, because she knew Amy would have loved to know. After all, Amy had once promised a shaking and frightened nineteen-year-old Vivienne, who had whispered her deepest fear that the dark and twisted feeling she felt during her pregnancy would never leave and she would never be capable of loving that child the way a mother was supposed to—Amy had promised that terrified and ashamed Vivienne that it would get better, and if it didn’t then Amy would be there for her. She had promised that vulnerable Vivienne that she would help.

She had promised that anxious Vivienne that she would not navigate this frightening path alone. No matter what. Because Vivienne would always have a friend and mother in Amy.

That promise had burned to ash alongside Amy’s body. But Vivienne still spoke to a ghost she didn’t believe in, because she did believe in the kindness of that woman’s soul when she had lived.

“He excels at French,” she told that sightless soul now in French. “I hardly need teach him a word before he integrates it and understands its nuances.” She turned her head so her cheek caught against the thin fabric of her night dress. Her eyes strayed, again, to the box. “He’s very intelligent. Cedrick is proud. He’s certain he’s ahead of his age, and I agree. I believe it is likely he will…”

Her words faded, lost in the comforting compression of the night. The sentence she had planned to form was gone as if it had never existed, and her mind undulated with the change.

She could not lie to Amy, whether she was ghost or human; whether she lived or was lost. It had always been that way. Such had been the unending comfort of Amy, knowing she had that support.

Cedrick loved Vivienne. He saw someone human, when everyone else had only ever seen a beast. When her own grandmother had treated her as if she were inhuman. Cedrick always took all of her words, no matter how cutting or short they may be, and he transformed them into things of beauty that made her believe even in her own humanity. He reflected back to her a woman worth loving, not worth leaving.

And it was for that reason there were some truths she was too terrified to ever tell him. I do not want a child. I never want to be a mother. I cannot be a mother. I have always loathed the idea. I have always found it demeaning and frightening. I have never wanted to be burdened by that responsibility. It was always the life I said I absolutely did not want. I told my grandmother again and again, no, no, when she said it was inevitable and she would form my future around it-- when she tried to take away my control and wished to force it on me, I said no, no, never, no.

Words she had never been able to say to him, caught and caustic in her throat; corrosive in her heart.

Words she had let leave, quaking, from her lips only ever in the protective presence of Amy, far from the ears of anyone else.

Amy had listened. Amy had not condemned her. Amy had not said all the words everyone else had ever said for why a woman could not dare say that; why it was not allowed to want her own life, or a life with a husband, without the requirement of a child in that future.

Why a woman was only as good as her womb.

Her entire meaning and life and personality and dreams, siphoned down to be judged by the usage of one organ.

Amy had listened.

Amy had hoped the love would come, and had promised to aid even if it didn’t.

Amy had let her be truthful, raw and vulnerable and revealing of all her undesirable parts, in a way even Cedrick could not fulfill because Vivienne was too frightened of the idea of losing his love. The love she had left everything in her life to pursue.

And so here, this night, the night of Amy’s birth fifty years ago, Vivienne could not continue with that superficial update when so many other words crowded her lungs.

“Amy,” she said quietly, and should have been horrified to hear her voice crack. Would have been, if not for that shroud descending again so heavily on her throat; her heart; her mind.

It was a welcome distance; a wall that separated her from the wild depth of emotions. Something she had once viewed with freedom, that independence of feeling, that capability of extreme emotions, but now in her maturity she knew to be folly.

Mireille had taught her that feelings, that love and emotions, were weaknesses. Unprotected joins in the armor that kept her safe in the war of life. The quickest path to failure.

And yet…

“I wanted to feel that love.”

She hadn’t wanted to say it aloud, hadn’t meant to, but for as quiet as the sounds were, it ripped her apart inside. She pressed cold palms into the heat of her closed eyes, her back curved gently against the dark.

“I never wanted him but when I knew I had to have him, I wanted it to change. I wanted—I wanted to understand. I wanted one piece of my life to not be a struggle, looking from the outside in. I wanted to hold him and hold no grudges, I wanted to feel the joy Cedrick did, I wanted…”

She sucked in a breath, thin and sharp and cutting.

“But I don’t know how, Amy. I don’t.” She felt her dry eyes grow heavy. Maybe another person would have cried but she couldn’t. “I don’t. My grandmother taught me to be strong, not weak. She taught me to deny all this. I don’t know what it is to be a mother. I only know how to be a warrior. I love Cedrick, I could leave everything for him, but I don’t know how to feel love that isn’t there. I don’t know how to force myself to not—”

—be a monster.

The words were unbidden in her mind, held close by the clawed fingers of her memories. Her grandmother’s voice, soothing in her ears.

Monster, Vivienne, you are nothing but a—

She stopped herself, pulsed her fingers to feel the dig of her fingernails into her palms, and dropped her arms to her side. Felt the catch of the floor against her skin. She stayed there, a still statue, every muscle taut as she fought to regain the control she briefly let herself lose.

It took time.

A deep breath in and another out.

Again.

Again.

With the surge of emotion leaving, she felt emptied out and exhausted. It was a feeling as corrosively comforting as it was familiar, and yet...

She didn’t say the words she was thinking:

You were supposed to save me from this. You were supposed to be here to guide me. I thought you could be his mother if I could not. I thought, with you, we could all find relief. I hoped we could all be happy. I need you but you aren’t here.

Instead, she said another truth; one just as deep but not as painful. Something else to tell Amy, a calmer truth to forget what she almost had said aloud.

“Lately, I struggle.”

She watched the light move with more life along the worn wooden floor than she felt lately in her own heart.

“I can’t sleep at night. I wake, again and again, and in the morning it’s difficult to rise. For more than this reason, during the day I am so tired. I spend all my energy at my work, and when I return I don’t want to think, or move. When I see Cedrick and Boyd so easily able to interact, when I watch them share smiles I cannot join, I feel lost in my own family. I feel peripheral. I begin to fear losing Cedrick’s love; his strength. Without you here to support me, I fear it will happen. I feel so tired all the time, and yet I still cannot sleep.”

The dust settled slowly, gracefully, to the floor.

“It’s a cycle I have felt many times since you left. I felt it, too, when Boyd was growing inside me. There are days I have no troubles, and everything feels right. And there are days I wonder how long this will stay until I can be free of it.” She closed her eyes, and let the disquiet take hold of her words.

“Will I be free of it, maman? Or is this another war I must fight as long as I live?”

There was no answer, and she did not expect one. She voiced the doubts to the confessional of death, and knew no advice would ever break that hold.

Maybe Amy would have known the answer. Maybe she would have told Vivienne what to do. But she was gone and only Vivienne and Mireille remained.

But Vivienne could not ask Mireille, either. Vivienne’s grandmother had made it incredibly clear when Vivienne had left that she was disgusted with her; that Vivienne was truly orphaned, now, with no family anywhere in France. No name and no money, no ancestry to call her own. Mireille had told her that choosing Cedrick would only see her burned, and had warned that she didn’t want to hear Vivienne come crying to her when everything inevitably fell apart.

You walk out that door, Vivienne, Mireille had said, and you are stricken from this family tree. My only granddaughter died with her father, I will tell everyone. Died at the hands of her worthless mother.

Vivienne pulled in a breath, let it flood her dusty lungs, and let it out as a fraying sigh. She wished she had a candle with her but it had been too much to remember, this night, when the restlessness of insomnia had dragged her too close, too often, to the surface.

Tomorrow, she told herself, she would don the armor fully again. Tomorrow, she would keep close the lessons her grandmother had given her. Tomorrow, she would rely on that distance to return her to her rightful self. Tomorrow, she would be the person she was meant to be; the person who did not fear or question the troubled edges of her mind.

Tomorrow, she would be ready once more for war.

But tonight—tonight, even in waking, she would let herself dream.

She closed her eyes and pushed her head harder against the unfinished attic wall. Felt the stinging nettling of her hair catching in splinters and gaps.

She imagined a cake on a table, and Amy and Braeden and Cedrick standing around it. She left Riley out because she liked to forget he existed, but Aiden could be there instead. She imagined a candle, flickering and bright, casting shadows away from Amy’s smile, lending warmth back into rigor mortis; life back into death.

She waited until they were firm in her mind, and then into that clustered dusk she sang a song of birthday wishes.

“Bon anniversaire, nos voeux les plus sincères. Que ces quelques fleurs, vous apportent le bonheur… Que l'année entière, vous soit douce et légère. Et que l'an fini, nous soyons tous réunis. Pour chanter en choeur… Bon anniversaire…”

The words drifted into the dark; a distant, low-breath melody that could hold no truth against reality; no buoyancy in the shadowy depths.

There would be no other years; no happiness waiting, nor flowers to come. There was no one to sing along with her, because she did not want to hurt the only person who would have remembered.

So she stayed alone in the attic, wishing she could be surrounded by the ghosts of the family who had believed in her.

But they were gone forever.

Fading memories of a time she would give anything to regain, yet her ‘anything’ would never be anywhere near enough.

Let go.

As always, she had to let go.

“Adieu, maman,” she whispered.

When she stood, already she felt the armor pulling back into place.

When she opened the trapdoor that led back down to the house, she felt reality flooding back, bringing with it a sense of certainty she felt for most of her life but allowed herself to lose, just a little, when she was up here alone in the dark.

When she reached up and pulled the switch on the light, she imagined Amy blowing out that candle and fading, like everything else, back into the black.

It would be another year until Vivienne would let herself feel that vulnerability again.

Another year until she breathed doubt into the dark; whispering confessions and questions to a mother long dead.