#slavery apologism

[rjalker]

the only Black character in Alien: Romulus is the expendable Happy Slave android whose autism (and he is also the only autistic character) is magically cured by a brain override that turns him evil, proving all of the bigoted humans who didn't trust him right for not trusting him. Sarcasm: because bigotry is when someone poses a real threat to everyone around them, and they are distrusted for that. end sarcasm.

we're supposed to clap and think it's cute when his "sister" (owner) tells him that his new primary mandate (orwhatever they call it) is to "do what's best for us". when that's explicitly still keeping her his number #1 priority instead of giving him the ability to protect himself.

and apparently she could have just done this at literally any time. I thought at the start of the movie that her dad had had to do a whole lot of complicated techincal things to override his mandate(?? whatever), but no, it's apparently as simple as saying "your new prioritty is X) and that's it. so she was purposefully keeping him as her slave the whole time but the movie doesn't really actually want you to care about or be upset by that. and it's supposed to be cute when she still keeps him as her slave at the end.

[firedragon1321]

Getting obsessed with Kazana +Anima again but not sure what to do with him.

[rjalker]

yeah the anti-revolution propaganda worked like a charm.

It's not a good thing that they took the story of a rich asshole righting against oppressed people and made him into one of those oppressed people so that he can still do the exact same thing and argue that oppressed minorities fighting for their freedom is bad.

No one should be praising the fact that this movie wants you to think literally defending dictators with your life by literally saving them from a bullet is a good thing that heroes do.

The movie literally has the moral that wanting to kill literal actual dictators makes you a bad person, and the only way to be a good person is be literally willing to jump in front to shield the dictator with your own body.

While they also have a running gag of B running around terrorizing and gleefully slaughtering people without mercy or hesitation. And we're supposed to laugh at that, because he's framed as a funny good guy.

"Optimus Prime is for the people. Megatron is not."

Optimus Prime literally singlehandedly declared himself the new dictator of the entire planet less than ten minutes after Megatron actually killed the previous dictator. Who they would all have to still be dealing with if Optimus Prime had gotten his way.

All of the supporters of that now dead dictator are literally still in their positions of power and have faced no consequences for their gleeful support of fascism. Because Optimus Prime says that trying fascists for their crimes is "going too far".

The moral of the movie is that dictators are only bad if they don't have the divine right of kings backing them up, and that you shouldn't take fascists to trial for their crimes against life, and that actually being willing to fight for your freedom and the freedom of the people around you makes you a bad person.

You have fallen for the propaganda hook line and sinker.

It is in fact even worse that they kept the same "Megaton is evil for fighting for the rights of oppressed people" backstory, but turned Orion Pax into a class traitor instead of the original where he's just another rich fucker who was helping to oppress Megatron and all the others.

One of the best things about transformers one in my opinion is that Optimus prime and megatron come from the same place. In every other continuity there is a power imbalance between them Orion pax always has better social standing then d-16/megatron. And I love that in tfone they show that you don’t have to come from differing social standings to have different ideals.its not the fact that Orion pax came from the higher castes then megatron it’s the fact that he’s just a good person who is hurt by sentinels betrayal but that doesn’t make him compromise his moral standing. D-16 is letting the anger rule him and is making him blind to anyone but himself. He’s constantly referring to his hurt and how sentinel betrayed him. Where Orion is worried about the people not just himself. he whanted the people to be-able to have their own choice. And in the movie he is just some guy he’s not alpha trions student he’s not an enforcer he’s not a free dock worker. He is there in the mines with d-16 he doesn’t just here about or help deal with the problems of the lower castes he’s living it he’s right there in the thick of it and still him and megatron go septet ways because Optimus prime is for the people. Megatron is not.

[hold-him-down]

Belleview Chapter Two (Part D): Day One

Notes: This is the final part of chapter 2. Now, pretend all 4 of those parts were posted in one thing because that is really how it was meant to be but things got away from me :)

Belleview: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (Part A), Chapter 2 (Part B), Chapter 2 (Part C)

TW: Institutionalized slavery, Med Whump, Dubcon Medical Care, References to Human Experimentation

✥ ✥ ✥

Day one, Lincoln thinks, goes by in a sort of semi-organized frenzy that makes up for a lack of rhythm with the undiluted tenacity of every person who has been assigned to this site. It is a flurry of organizing volunteers, scheduling with local hospitals, reviewing the notes of the medical team and pausing, occasionally, to ask how his two patients are faring. River remains isolated, but no one pushes him, and Felix remains alive and that, for what it’s worth, counts as a win.

Beds are built inside of the tiny rooms with impressive efficiency, while volunteers sort through the floods of donations, things from clothing to food to entertainment. At some point, an entire truck full of televisions, courtesy of the mayor, pulls up, and at another, a florist brings a van-full of indoor plants to help make the place feel more ‘homey.’ Three restaurants deliver catered lunch, and seven bring dinner. The residents, by and large, refuse the food, and it is not until the prepackaged meaty substance that has been their daily meal for their entire time at the site is found, heated, and delivered, that most of them eat anything at all.

The phone rings non-stop with offers for food or ‘any other support needed’ over the next week. News vans come and go, with volunteers offering cursory updates on where things stand at Belleview, but never on the residents themselves. Their identities are protected, and no one seems to mind regardless. 

The community, much to Lincoln’s surprise, rallies behind the residents, and he is left to admit, reluctantly, that even here, in this somewhat small community in southern Florida, where so many vocal supporters of the system fought tooth and nail to keep contracted labor intact, there are countless pockets of good. He doesn’t have the time to rearrange his opinion on the town, but he recognizes the necessity to reassess where he stands.

For now, he throws all of his energy toward the task at hand.

Three of the residents, Felix, Gabriel, and Ari, require hospital visits for diagnostics. Lincoln makes a note to check on them before leaving for the night. Seven more have been hooked up to IV fluids and are being monitored while they sleep, but will be treated at the site once the med rooms are set up. Three (River, chiefly among them) refused any care, and seven allowed themselves to be examined without fighting. Notably, the team suspects that many did not understand, or believe, that things have changed, and so the pretenses under which they cooperated were dubious at best.

It’s eight o’clock, and with one full twelve-hour shift under his belt, Lincoln accepts that it’s nearly time to call it a day. The first group of volunteers has begun packing up and leaving for the evening, with the new group filing in and orienting themselves to their tasks. Lincoln sits in the empty office, twenty-one folders strewn haphazardly across the large metal desk. 

He reaches for the newest folder, marked ‘Felix,’ and opens it. He reads through the notes– his notes– and stands, placing the lone file into his bag. He picks up his keys, and he turns off the light to the office, and he starts making his way through the bowels of the building that, just yesterday, housed horrors that he has not yet begun to wrap his head around.

Lincoln passes several volunteers setting up a common area out of what was once a waiting room, which includes putting together sofas, hooking up the donated TVs, stocking shelves full of books, and hanging art. There are half-broken down boxes strewn everywhere. He greets the volunteers with an exhausted smile and half-wave as he passes. Once he reaches the tip of the main corridor, he pauses. It’s quiet now, with an almost eerie quality to it. A couple of the fluorescents are dull, with one outright flickering. It gives the wing a sort of post-apocalyptic ambiance befitting its history. If not for the doors, each cracked open in a bid to encourage the residents to explore their temporary home, it would look exactly the same as it had this morning, save for one of the plants that made its way to a corner.

“How did it go today?” Dr. Anthony Schiller, the assistant director of the site, who will oversee it during the overnight shifts, asks as he pulls up beside him. 

“It could have gone worse,” Lincoln responds. They are silent for seconds, maybe minutes, staring down the long hallway. And then, “I’m worried about them,” Lincoln says softly. At the doctor’s expectant look, he continues, “About where things go from here.”

Schiller nods in agreement, and Lincoln hands him the key to the office with a half-hearted smile that is meant to be encouraging, but might read closer to reluctant. 

“Files are on the desk, notes are in the files,” Lincoln says. He gives a rundown of where they’re at, what they’ve done, who to keep an eye on overnight.

Once Anthony has retreated, Lincoln makes his way through the corridor toward the exit. He listens for any signs of distress as he does. In one room, the light from the TV flashes through the crack in the door. From another, he can hear crying. He pauses, knocking on the door. “Do you need anything?” he asks, and the boy’s– Ethan’s– eyes snap up to meet his.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan whispers. 

“It’s okay,” Lincoln replies. He takes a step into the room, where there is a barely-eaten dinner and an untouched pile of blankets. “I’m sure this is overwhelming,” he says. He picks up the top blanket and unfolds it, then sets it on the untouched bed. “Have you had a chance to eat?” he asks. 

Ethan nods, visibly holding back as much emotion as he can. 

“Okay,” Lincoln replies. He sits at the edge of the bed, and pats the space next to him. “Will you come sit with me for a minute?” he asks then. Ethan, predictably, does as he is asked, and Lincoln hands him the blanket. “I’m going to head out for the night,” Lincoln explains. “Is there anything you want me to grab you for tomorrow?”

Ethan shakes his head quickly. “Okay,” Lincoln replies. “Try to get some sleep. If you’d like to turn on the TV, you can. Anything you need, please let the volunteers know, okay? I know this is confusing,” he continues, “but things will get easier.” 

Ethan smiles, his eyes downcast, and Lincoln squeezes his hand. “I’ll see you in the morning?” 

As he continues down the hall, he wonders, idly, how many of these beds will be untouched tonight. How many of these men will go hungry tonight. How many will sleep at all. River's room is quiet and dark, and Lincoln resists the urge to check in on him. He is okay. He refused lunch and dinner, but has a bed, has clothes, and has access to food and water. No progress has been made throughout the day, but, Lincoln hopes, they will try again tomorrow.

He reluctantly continues walking.

He pauses, finally, at Felix’s door. As one of the three critical patients, the volunteers have been on top of him all day, reporting back at least hourly on his status. With the medicine and with the fluids and with the constant care, he’s been stable, which is something.

Lincoln pushes the door open as quietly as he can, and buried under a weighted blanket, curled up on his side, lies Felix. An oxygen mask covers his mouth and nose, and, under the covers, Lincoln knows a slew of monitors cover his body, feeding them data on his condition. After a thorough review of that data, Lincoln turns his attention back to Felix.

Even in the darkness, it is obvious that he has been bathed, he has been given clothes, and his wounds have been tended. He looks… peaceful, Lincoln thinks. He looks comfortable. 

As he takes a step back toward the hall, Felix’s eyes crack open, instantly seeking him out. His fingers lift, just slightly, in something that vaguely resembles a wave, and Lincoln makes his way to his bedside.

He kneels next to him, squeezing his fingers gently. 

“Hey,” he whispers. With his free hand, Lincoln brushes the hair off of Felix’s forehead, then runs his fingers across the bruising on his neck. “I was just on my way out,” he continues, “I wanted to check and make sure you have everything you need?” 

Felix doesn’t respond, but he keeps his eyes on Lincoln. Lincoln smiles and stands, with a soft, “I’ll see you in the morning,” as he moves away from Felix’s bed.

The panicked look, the same from earlier, ghosts across Felix’s features, and he reaches for the mask. It doesn’t take more than a split second for Lincoln’s mind to be made up. At home, his boyfriend will struggle to understand what happened here today. He’ll be chastised for taking his work too seriously, for not setting boundaries, for giving too much of himself to his job.

But, he thinks, as he pulls out his phone to send the text message: I’m going to stay here for the night. I’ll check in in the morning. Will explain tomorrow, he knows it’s right. By the time he drags the small armchair over to Felix’s bed and settles into it, Felix’s body has lost the fight for consciousness. Still, when Lincoln puts his hand on top of Felix’s, and the tension in his shoulders immediately lifts, Lincoln knows that this is where he’s meant to be.

Belleview Taglist:

@pigeonwhumps @peachy-panic @whump-cravings @pirefyrelight @i-eat-worlds

@taterswhump @squishablesunbeam @inpainandsuffering @distinctlywhumpthing @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@handsinmotion @whumps-and-bumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @alexmundaythrufriday @itsawhumpsideblog

@hellodecisionparalysis

[kushamisaru]

Hey did you guys know that the very first time Congress apologized to black people for anything ever was in 2005. That's crazy, right. I was 11. I'm old enough to have vivid memories from that time.

[kshaar]

i did not make the post complaining about datv plot that i wanted to when i finished the game but one of the bullet points on it was 'where is the reckoning to shake the heavens that flemeth promised? we lost kate mulgrew for this?' which is a bullet point that might make one realize that one's complaints are very niche and specific and thats not what people look for in 10-year-later sequels and you nix the whole post

and then almost two weeks later d*vid g*ider makes a post about flemeth & morrigan & how they were always so fundamental to dragon age [which he begins by calling himself out for older women being his type- i dont want to talk about it] and another about how the scene between morrigan & kieran & flemythal was written and shot for here lies the abyss, morrigan saying she would never be the mother [to kieran] that flemeth was to her 🥺which is STILL the most impactful thing from inquisition

then you see the messy cowardly bullshit fucking story we got in veilguard, the way that mythal's fragment is in there ultimately to absolve this man for killing her, and morrigan is only there as her mouthpiece and the only way to convince this man that he needs to stop is if people tell him 'its okay man' because thats our priority right. making him feel better. fuck the dwarves dreams and the blight and the-

i don't know, i don't really have a point

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Maybe the truth at the heart of Shadowstruck is the importance of family. Because the most compelling stories in this universe are about what happens when you tell parents that some of their children have no right to their love, care, and protection. It destroys what should be the strongest and most natural bonds of love, and that simple horrible thing leads to all the complicated problems in their oppressive society.

[demonwebs]

im gonna be real sometimes i get too lazy to tag things bc like....... its so "yeah what did u expect from a lolth-sworn drow blog" jshdbjdsh

[lentendays]

Something something Jacob and Esau parallels.

In biblical times Jacob, Abraham's grandson, became known as "Israel" through Years Of Redemption but was for the first part of his life kind of a tool. He was born clinging to his twin brother Esau's heel, much like baby AFO is grabbing onto Yoichi here. (Not sure who's older since AFO is called "older brother" but Yoichi literally means "First son". If we take the First Son interpretation, the parallels with Esau continue.) For that reason he was named Jacob, which means "Heel" or "may God protect" OR "ASSAILANT".

Like AFO sucking the life out of Yoichi and his mother, Jacob grew up jealous of Esau and wanted to take all that he had - and he did. Through tricking Esau, he got Esau's birthright. And by tricking his aging, blind dad, he got his dad's blessing for the firstborn, which his dad was not able to regive to Esau when he asked. Both the most important things a firstborn child could have in those times.

Idk where this is going but it's a cool parallel.

[rjalker]

"but we can't free these slaves, what if they want to get revenge on us?" Will always be a racist argument, no matter what. It doesn't matter that you have robots as the slaves or orcs or literally any other allegory at all.

[banji-effect]

I was just reading an article yesterday about the UK government's attempts to block any formal apology for the slave trade and proposals of reparations discussions at the Commonwealth meeting (which is going on right now). Just saying that these kinds of things are very much not a given. Thank you again to Deb Haaland for being legit one of the greatest to ever do it.

[vicontheinternet]

Elijah still give me the ick from when he kept call marcel boy and refused to use his name. What is this the 1960’s.

[0ystercatcher]

so many of the i/p posts are genuinely just made by westerners who think making themselves feel guilty is righteous and may absolve them of whatever role their countries played in the conflict, as little as it may be. very religious. very ritualistic. very tiresome to watch. very blind and stupid and disrespectful.

[silverfox66]

Today, 1 July, is Keti Koti, Broken Chains.

It's 150 years after the abolition of slavery. Today, we commemorate and reflect on the role of the Dutch in slave trade and slavery. 160 years ago, slavery was abolished by law, but the enslaved people were still forced to continue working for 10 years.

[gepski]

Dutch King makes apology for slavery 'with heart and soul' and asks forgiveness.

At the Keti Koti (Broken Chains) celebration: the ending of slavery 150 years ago, the king asks forgiveness: 'There was a moral duty to act'. He concluded the heartfelt speech in Sranan Tongo (Surinam)

Ten kon drai /Times have changed Den keti koti, brada, sisa / The chains are broken, brother, sister Ten kon drai / Times have changed Den keti koti, fu tru! / The chains are broken, for real!

[sugdenlovesdingle]

He actually did it!

And apologised for his family's part in the slave trade too!

here is a video of his speech (in Dutch) and here is the full text (also in Dutch but a little google translate goes a long way)