#so basically I can refer to things in Hacks that really highlight my trauma as seen thru Deb’s pov | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snifflesthemouse · 4 years ago

Text

Harry’s the Problem. His wife is the symptom. He is the real Diana 2.0 Wannabe...

Since the Oprah interview aired, my whole perspective regarding the spare and his spouse has shifted. It would seem that I’m not alone in my thought process as more and more media outlets start reporting similar stances. Just recently, there was an article suggesting Harry didn’t change; but rather, he is only finally revealing his true self. The more I think about it all, the more I’ve come to the realization #6 is the real culprit behind everything.

I’m not saying that his wife doesn’t have her own agenda or shares responsibility for her part in all this. Her hands are far from clean. What I am saying is it’s finally time for all of us to consider the cold, hard truth. Harry is his mother’s child. Harry is the bad egg, and his wife is only a side effect of the real problem here.

Had it not been for the Oprah interview, I would have never put it all together. The problem with oversharing is too much information gets put out in the public. Most assume PR firms would worry about oversaturation in the press, but the real problem comes from personal interviews they cannot control in real-time. Puff pieces can be edited before publishing so facts and statements align; live interviews cannot. Over time, one of two patterns form from this oversaturation. Consistencies, repetitions, and similarities can be found in oversaturated truth-telling. Inconsistencies, changes, and huge differences result from those like Harry who prefer their trousers scorching hot from bursting into flames from deception. When you consistently lie, the only constant is the inconsistencies.

Now, those of us who have been following these two already know by now inconsistencies and changing stories should be expected. But the Oprah interview really highlighted some interesting things I had previously missed. The interview with Dax Shephard only solidifies my theories. Up until lately, those two have been together through most everything. Very seldom have we seen Harry alone in an interview or speech. There’s never a time where the missus isn’t popping up. James Corden proved that. Then we have the Oprah interview where she was supposed to be the star of the show. But, that was the moment it all changed. That interview was the moment she became the understudy.

Think about it. Who is the one being used in the media lately? Most people would suggest that the impending delivery of child number dos is why the missus is absent. One would then argue the Apple + special with Oprah started production well before the second child was a topic for discussion. The missus is being used less and less on camera or in the media. Everything is all about Harry. Forget about when Harry met Sally; Harry Met Hollywood!

Harry is the one doing the interviews, dropping projects, and talking with big Hollywood names. Even their announced Netflix projects are focused on one of Harry’s pre-married concepts. All the wife has going for her is a book that’s only number one in the “Books written by ex-Royals who couldn’t hack it” category. Seriously though, as of this posting the Bench is #2130 on the Amazon Books list, #12 in Children’s Black and African American Story Books, #73 in Children’s Emotions Books, and #167 in Children’s Family Life Books. Being pregnant isn’t a disqualifier for being interviewed. But, apparently being just the wife is.

So, if it was his wife’s plan from the beginning to marry Harry, get him to abandon his family, move to California, and become a big star with a Prince for a husband, her plans have been ruined. And if you think about what she said in the interview with Oprah, you can actually see the moments she told us all exactly that. She clearly tells Oprah Harry was her direct link and source to the Royal Family and everything she needed to know. She didn’t misspeak or misunderstand a thing; she was telling us that Harry’s next to be markled. In every weird answer or revelation where she gave her versions for why their child(ren) were without title, saying they wed three days before the chapel, or having to cry out to HR since Harry failed to help her while she was so depressed she wanted to kill herself and her unborn child... all of it. It was all just the beginning. It may seem like she is attacking her husband’s family, but Harry’s the real target now.

In just a couple sentences, she managed to reveal who Harry really was. Harry, of all people, should (and does) know how to navigate the press. Clearly, he failed to not only help her acclimate to Royal life, but it could also even be argued he set her up for failure for the get go. Let me give you an example. When my husband introduced me to his family for the first time, he told me little tidbits of information he found important for me to know. He essentially prepped me for the meeting so things went well. He wanted his family to like me because he loved me. I wanted them to like me because I loved him, too. So, I took to heart everything he told me. Yet, Harry’s wife shared with the world how little Harry cared about that. She credits Fergie with teaching her to curtsey, google for teaching her the National Anthem, and even said Her Majesty made her feel especially welcomed. So how did Harry not do more? If they started seeing one another in the early Summer of 2016, how is it Harry failed to teach or explain anything to her prior to meeting his grandmother, the Queen, when he had months and months of time to do so? How is it he failed his wife so miserably, she didn’t even understand basic UK custom, laws, or protocols? Why might you ask?

Simply put, Harry is so much like his mother, all he knows is how to play the victim narrative while using the link to the Royal family as a nonstop ATM machine. Many people aren’t honest with themselves when it comes to Diana. She wasn’t the Mother Theresa everyone makes her out to be. Mother Theresa wasn’t a Mother Theresa either, though. Did Diana do some great things? Absolutely. Did she do them only because they were nice or great? Absolutely… not. Diana’s PR team would even have her switch up her charity causes whenever they felt it was getting to martyrdom level. They’d refer to her PR stunts as flavors. Does that sound like an innocent woman?

Not to me. This whole time we all have seen his wife as the root of all issues, but she’s the side effect. It’s becoming more clear by the day that Harry searched out her. He wanted someone with the basic Hollywood connections that he could capitalize. Someone that seemed so controlling and ambitious it would be easy to believe they were controlling him, too. Of course he knew she would invite all the celebs she did. He probably inspired that guest list. Instead of guiding her in the press and in British society, he leads her to slaughter. He hides behind her repeated gaffes and wokeness to keep on his own mission.

You see, Harry is obsessed with his brother eventually becoming king, being the “Second Son of Diana” and being the misfit. He is obsessed with his brother and father. They are all he talks about. When you obsess on something like that, it is more revealing than anything you say. Harry’s true motives aren’t protecting his wife and children. His real motive is making a name for himself like his mother did. If he can manage to get some revenge by making the Firm feel some backlash, hey that’s a bonus.

While his wife may think in her mind she will be the next Diana 2.0, the truth is we all missed who really will be. Harry is the one wanting to be Diana 2.0. If that’s the case, then that means the much older spouse for whom there are two children with, aka the wife, would be his Charles. Remember, Diana lost her HRH and titles. And we have Harry being very aggressive and pushy, to the point it seems he is trying to get ahead of a Palace announcement of them losing their titles. But it makes sense now.

They aren’t trying to lose anything, but instead Harry keeps opening his mouth to create pressure in the media. He knows his wife does not want to give those titles back. But if he himself keeps saying outrageous things, then it would put everyone in ultimatum mode. Either Harry will push hard enough that Parliament and the Queen will have enough, or the press will get so critical of the two, Harry will push his wife to agree to returning the titles.

Harry is following the Diana business model. While in the Royal Family, they both were seen as rock stars who had more star power the the Sovereign, which was an issue. Then, they couldn’t take all the abuse, coldness, and inhumanity, so they bolted for freedom. Instead of putting the past behind them, they use the past to monetize grief and trauma in such a way, they become their own brand. Right now, the trauma being monetized comes from the past, but the problem will soon come when that trauma is tapped out. He will need a source of new pain or victimhood. Enters the wife stage left.

The wife is a tool. She of course has her own plans and thinks she is the one in control or the genius. She thinks she is the one everyone wants to work with. But it’s becoming clear to her that isn’t the case and she’s been played by her elite buddies. They all want him, not her. They all duped her for him. If I can see it, and I can see her already finger pointing that Harry is the failure here, then she can see it. And that means paradise will soon be lost in those Montecito hills. His wife won’t go down without a serious fight here. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she eventually causes him to lose his special visa.

Overall, Harry hides behind his wife like a beard or shield protecting him from the press’s glaring lens. He lets her do and say whatever she thinks is great so he can keep plotting his own plans. He allows her to take the fall, look stupid, pull stunts people can see through, etc. for a reason. He isn’t completely sure he can make it in his new California life. He knows he can’t if he keeps her for too long, but he also knows he needs an exit strategy in case it blows up. So, he pins the press to attack her as the true culprit. If they split and he has to, he can return home and play the victim of her. If they split and he is doing okay in Hollywood, she can be the reason he plays victim to big named people like Oprah and Gayle.

I can see it now. An Oprah Special with Harry tonight on Apple +. Something cheesy or corny that is almost plagiarism. Like Narcissus and the Prince or something. Watch. Mark my words. Oprah talking to Harry about surviving the marriage while trying to rescue two small kids, being in the spotlight as a Royal while being gaslit by a narcissistic wife… yes I can see the green screen set up now.

I know this is difficult to digest, but I do ask you to try. While his wife is not innocent, she clearly is guilty for her own part indeed, his wife isn’t the true problem. The true problem here is a man who has a serious issue with living in the shadow of his future-King father and future-King brother, and his future-King nephew, that he has chosen to use the same exact attack model his own mother used to merch and marginally disrupt the institution that made her a star. Harry and his mother both wanted the entire spotlight, but both knew they could never have it the way they wanted it. So, they wrote their own victimhood narrative.

And here we are now. Mark my words. Harry will keep pushing until those remaining titles are removed by them forcing the hands of Parliament and the Queen. Or, they’ll push and push in the press so much the outrage and hypocrisy will leave them no other option but to renounce and re-gift those titles and rights to the line of succession. That is what he wants, even if his missus doesn’t. Also make no mistake about it. Harry is the real Diana 2.0 wannabe, not his wife. Keep an eye out. I have this gnawing feeling that soon enough, there will be plenty leaks from the wife about the husband. She won’t go quietly into the Beverly Hills… but neither will he.

#megxit #6 #harryswife #yankeewally #murky meg #diana2.0

483 notes · View notes

experimentsinsimultaneoustime · 6 years ago

Text

[the essay] A rose is not a rose is not a rose is not a rose is a rose

Online, everything (every thought, action, object) is abstracted into language in order for it to exist.

The gap between a rose online and a rose IRL is big. At a basic level, the online rose is no longer in a garden, cared for, watered, subjected to the wind and the sun, rooted, dying. It no longer represents the blight of colonised land under the guise of exquisite beauty. This online rose, which we still call a rose, exists differently. This rose is floating in an absurdist multidimension. There is no residual association of smell or touch. Its context endlessly warps, its meaning endlessly shifts as people scroll past it. It multiplies to become stitched between photos of dogs, drunken nights out, holiday snaps, promotional selfies, sports highlights, amateur food photography, photos of art, individualised political outcries, inspirational encouragements, life achievements, a beer can in a gutter. Its value becomes contingent upon a heat map of relational engagement: views, likes, comments, shares. But even though the online rose loses heat – is quickly forgotten – it doesn’t die. It doesn’t decompose and get turned into some other energy-matter. It simply becomes lost, or archived, in an algorithmic soup of infinity, floating in the liminal space between existence and non-existence.

In this way, the IRL rose and the online rose have become completely different things. The meaning of the word ‘rose’ has been stretched to encompass a whole new set of relations, contingent on the inherent political structure of a global network (the internet) where information (language) defines currency (value). Eventually, the online rose has nothing to do with the original meaning of the word rose. In fact, the constant shapeshifting of the online rose’s relational environment means its own meaning is constantly deferred, until it doesn’t even have anything to do with itself anymore. It just refers to other things, which in turn just refer to other things, until we are nowhere.

And because the internet is an ideological triumph of planetary capitalism, the meaning of everything online is at the mercy of (mostly) straight, white, male coders. They are the invisible power brokers of the abstraction of language into flows of information, where value is perpetually postponed in order to keep you wanting, and beauty is a mirage you hope you can click yourself towards. The rose is now unattainable.

On 3 July, 2016 @britneyspears regrammed a photo of a white-pink rose from @drewbarrymore’s Instagram. Britney’s post, uncaptioned, received 74,921 likes and 539 comments. Perfect. Perfection. Britney… That was amazing. Thank you so much. Wooww. Lovee. Love it. I hate flowers. Wonderful! I love you. Omg. Any news on the new single? Pretty rose. That’s gorgeous. Wow. Lmao but wow. Pretty just like you Britney. Remember when u shaved your head? A beautiful rose for a beautiful woman.

@drewbarrymore’s original photo of the rose, posted over a year earlier on 2 May 2015, was captioned #tgif and garnered 49,462 likes and 265 comments. Pretty flower!! Beautiful! :) That’s pretty. Ty for the very nice photos. Have a blessed weekend. O M G. I love flowers, thxs for sharing @drewbarrymore. Stay happy, healthy and blessed. Looks like it smells soooo good. Beautiful! Lovely. Love. Amazing!! So purty. I love you. I love u. Wow how beautiful that rose is!

The rose has become a stand-in, a proxy, a conduit for understanding a series of personal histories, relational maps, unexpressed emotional states and ultimately, obsessive longing. This photograph has left its garden original to die in the dirt. It has travelled globally, transmuting to represent Drew Barrymore’s position in the market as a real person who “gets it”, as well as a symbol to express thanks to God that the working week has ended, as well as setting a relational connection between Drew Barrymore and Britney Spears, where siloed fanworlds have momentarily crossed wires as Britney’s identity transcends crazed LA celebrity to arrive at wholesome mother via the image of the rose.

This essay itself is not about roses. It’s about the deferral of meaning, it’s about the alienating experience of objects being out of place. How can we bypass the capitalist architecture of the endless scroll, the trauma of language distancing meaning from lived experience?

The reason deferral happens is not so much because language is inherently abstract, as because we’re experiencing this process through a dominant paradigm that prescribes lived experience as a linear timescale. How can we sit in a simultaneous multiplicity of meanings that produce value in the present moment? How can we arrange ourselves for eternal gratification?

It’s not ordinarily possible to know about, or have the capacity to feel things, that have happened or are going to happen, outside of the present moment in which they are actually happening.

But there are fissures in this world, that allow us to bypass the laws of our own brains, to hack logic and enter into feeling, or rather, to turn feeling into logic so that they are the same.

Memory, belief, imagination, acid, ghosts, dreams, dancing, de ja vou and sex are just some states that invoke simultaneous time.

I could feel us fucking for days before it happened, and for days after. The actual lived moment of physical impact was so intense, as if it were all of the echoes of before and after combined, I cried and hid my tears. Even though now, I’m walking down the street, I’m eating ramen, I’m sitting at my computer, I’m talking to a friend, it still feels like part of me is fucking you / being fucked by you. In a queer mind all love is happening simultaneously.

Simultaneous time makes the rose attainable again, without denying its mutability. It validates the way we love each other beyond the impossibility of our present set of circumstances, and how that experience is not deferred but embodied. Simultaneous time doesn’t erase the past and the future, or the potential and unlived versions of it, but rather suggests that everything is in a constant state of happening. You can tap in and feel / know any part of it at any time. It can be intensely happy and it can be intensely sad and it can be both / all at once.

I’m in a state of exhaustion but I can’t sleep. In my pre-dream mind, I’m kissing you outside that Italian restaurant where we both ordered lasagnes and watermelon granitas at the bar before I gave you a deck of tarot cards that I ordered online, even though I don’t believe in tarot cards, which I wrapped so neatly in paper from my notebook, and watched you unwrap so carefully, and felt kind of self-conscious as you unwrapped it, because I didn’t know how you felt about anything, because you hadn’t told me, though I would find out later via text message that your ex-boyfriend wants you back. In my pre-dream mind, I’m imagining the kiss that I pre-meditated and then didn’t act on when you actually arrived. I feel both the absence and presence of that kiss as I run my phone battery flat listening to rain sounds on YouTube, eyes closed, simulating the conditions for sleep.

It’s impossible to describe this relationship because it exists almost entirely in a state of deferral, of ambiguous instant messages and deep longing and overlapping timescales we can’t extricate ourselves from to just be together, even though we share an intense reality of the possibility. And because it’s impossible to describe, it’s impossible to locate, and so it tends to exist wherever it can, in moments where it shouldn’t. Simultaneous time recognises that love is non-linear.

I can feel your hips trembling around me that night my flight was cancelled, and it makes my heart cramp with hurt.

If Britney Spears is the ultimate embodiment of the split between object and meaning in a linear capitalist framework of pleasure deferral, simultaneous time returns her to herself, and to her fans. It validates her incoherence, and it validates the fanatics’ fantasy as an embodied reality that manifests as feeling and identity.

We’re back out on the street after the sweat catharsis of a 25-and-a-half-hour rave that we experienced for four hours, not touching. You’re wearing a pink bucket hat and the air is cold and you’re tired and we talk seriously about Big Life Decisions and whether he should be the one to love you. It’s really bad timing, you apologise.

At the tram stop, back in singular time, where I have to wait for 9 linear, non-cosmic minutes, a seagull eats the crumbs of my chilli flavoured chips and I wonder if that’s bad.

0 notes