#star wars the phantom martyr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mourningmoon2 · 3 years ago

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MARVEL OC!!!

okay okay OKAY. Listen, I'm primarily part of the Star Wars fandom (and random shitposts, but we don't talk bout that) BUT, I've recently gotten back into marvel by watching daredevil AND LET ME TELL YOU I've had this OC idea for MONTHS and I've finally had the time to write it out.

[Image description: A picture depicting a young girl in a kn95 mask and hood coving her hair is shown. They are angled away from the viewer, but her eyes are looking towards the viewer. They have a bandage on their right eyebrow, and a strand of hair falling in front of her left eye. The second picture shows a front profile of the same person without the mask and hood, but their eyes are glancing to the right. She has short dark hair with a small streak of white, a bandage on her right eyebrow, a black eye with a tiny scar above the eye, and a scar across their nose. They have a very faint smirk. Above the pictures have the words "Phantom/Daisy Dixon, She/They" in the right corner and "MCU/NMCU" in the left. Underneath the pictures are lines of writing depicting a backstory and powers. End Image Description.]

Don't worry Ima give you the backstory >:) (though I might change the backstory a bit, this is just the outline technically)

TW: Death, Abuse, religious trauma (don't know if this counts but ima be safe), Suicide, sexual assault (not to any of the characters, just mentioned as a crime) tell me if I missed any!

Text: Phantom is a 15-year-old Vigilante, whose real name is Daisy Dixon. Daisy was raised in a very sheltered home with her father (Donald), mother (Sylvia), and 18-year-old brother (Martin). Daisy grew up in a strict Christian household with her father being passionate about Christian ideals and being a saint/martyr. Daisy was closer with her mother as she got older, as her father's ideas scared her and made her uncomfortable. Martin and Daisy were close when they were younger, but Daisy started to avoid him when his ideas became more like their fathers, and he started participating in illegal activities.

The family grew up in a small town in Oregan, before moving to NYC when Daisy was 12 for better economic opportunities. Daisy and her father went on a hiking trip to North Carolina a year after moving to NYC. On the third day of the trip, Daisy's and her father got into an argument that escalated quickly, and in a fit of rage, Daisy's father pushed her off the cliff the two were staying on. Daisy fell into a creek polluted by chemicals and died. Donald was known to be short-tempered and scary, but he had never physically hurt anyone. When he realized what he had done, he committed suicide by hanging.

Daisy's body was found the next day by a couple hiking, and she was taken to a hospital morgue. Hours later, she woke up, shocking everyone. She was questioned by the police, and she told them what happened (which is how they found her father's body later that day), and once she was deemed physically and (semi) mentally fit to travel, she was taken back to NYC and her family was filled in on the situation. Since then, Daisy and her mother had a strained relationship. Sylvia blamed Daisy because she started the argument.

Days later, Daisy discovered her powers on a walk at night when she went to help an injured woman in an alleyway and realized she had the ability to heal. Situations like these continued to happen, and Daisy discovered all of her powers. Eventually, Daisy became a vigilante/medic for the people and deemed herself Phantom. A month later, Daisy started to fight petty crimes (car robbers, pickpocketers, bullies) alongside healing people. When she turned 14, she started to fight bigger criminals (drug dealers, sexual assaulters, child abusers), and this is when she became more known to the public, and eventually, after she took down her first gang (admittedly it was small), she was recognized as one of NYC's beloved (by the people, we all know what news reporters think) vigilantes.

Second Text:

Powers: —Invisibility —Phase through non-living objects —Healing —Enhanced Agility, Flexibility, Speed, Stamina, and Strength

Side effects: —low energy levels after using powers —Sensitivity to the sun —increased metabolism

(yes I know some of the text on this post and the paper doesn't match up, that is on purpose. I changed some stuff.)

#marvel mcu #mcu #nmcu #the avengers #the defenders #ocs #daredevil #spiderman #original character #vigilante #marvel

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vilegroove · 3 years ago

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Lyrics from 'Dark Tales From The Insulation Booth' (03/31/21)

For all those hip-hop purists and anyone wanting to get down with that Hank Solo lingo.

STEM CELL RESEARCH

It goes counterintelligence, Berenstein psy-op Schwarzschild radius, holographic mind job I’m a ticking time bomb stuck inside this nightmare It’s warfare for the welfare of the poor From tenement to parliament the charlatans of artifice In shadows stocking armaments or ornaments with arguments Coordinates are carpeted while Harlequins are marketed Unfortunate subordinates are targeted by Artemis I sit solo, spit a mental freestyle No polo, UH I spent it on these re-fries Meanwhile I filleth up the syllabus In real time and if I spill enough to pick it up I just might reach minds Smash atoms, push phantoms into chasms Is it a random happenstance Or a predetermined anthem? Step inside a web this some spider vs fly shit Step into a world this some Illuminati eye shit What would you do if you had no shoes? And you had no rules and you had no school? What would you choose? If the choice ain’t yours Ain’t your chore, Ain’t your war, Ain’t your battle, Ain’t your fight You’re just standing in line man waiting to die They pulling strings with grizzled fingers While the stem cell research helps them linger Tempers up, fear the farming In a cave under threat of a terror bombing Nails clawing, the cause of flesh wounds Supply and demand panoramic cesspools Inhale jet fuel on the way to school man Chemtrails forming the new pollutant Confusing the students and keeping them stupid Obtuse attitudes, man, these dudes be ruthless On point to the point I barricade the joint Inhale, exhale man this tasters choice Blue bloods eschew mud, chew cud like us cattle We battered and bruised up but we still fucking battle Never let em get to you - Ask me bout the subterfuge War and peace entwining in an ever whirling centrifuge Veteran rookie: Dichotomy so sue me Used to Hank Solo now I roar like Wookie

SHARK TANK (feat. CHIEFFY)

[VERSE 1 - HANK]

Christ I get wicked when I'm alone and I'm lit Smoke clones and then spit till I foam at the lips My ego cast a shadow that could cause an eclipse And I can't get through doors cause my head won't fit I'm starvin' like Marvin, lookin' for a target I'm barkin' dark jargon like I'm stalkin' park joggers My though pattern is laced with dark matter Fight alien races is space an spark blaster I spit lines for like minds who smoke kind I write rhymes with weight that warp space time Ante-up I'm about to erupt Krakatoa flow all over Like I'm bustin' a nut, spray paint Jackson Pollock All over her gut - Dirty Harry on the mic But you ain't sweeping me up I'm a sad sap but I can rhyme not half bad Cause I been mixing words since I was sperm Inside my dads sack Yakkity-Yak Don't talk back, as a matter of fact Rewind the track back so you can practice your rap I'm high gloss your skills are not polished You're whack and lack knowledge Go back to clown college - Fuck taxes, pay homage I'm glad you acknowledged Hank is just flawless I'm bank your just wallet

[MAIN HOOK × 2]

I'm cold like deep space I master this pace Knock you flat face In fact my sharp skates Cut circles round you lark fakes Question what marks make Shave you to carp flakes For use in my shark tank

[BRIDGE - CHIEFFY]

Let’s jump in it, I’m with it I’m finna kill it and stay I've been the realest Since dealers was Shitting diapers away Blank face I don’t keep it at bay

[VERSE 2 - CHIEFFY]

No whale watching, I’m hopping But no landing, I’m offing to each planet I’m locked in, nigga said I’m a Martian You niggas fandom, I’m popping But got plans to just pop him I’m a man no ones stopping Fire plans imma watch them gain Burn away just like Mary Jane I put away, she too nice for days, make way Cause I’m burning all the mainframes No place to lay I ain’t keeping all you plain janes Just some grams and Violas In my denim jeans, we keep it real Chef Chief serving up them fiends. Mother Fucker.

[MAIN HOOK × 2]

Hank: Alright, let's go home

Jay: One more take

LET ME TELL YOU (feat. AQUAKULTRE)

[VERSE 1 - HANK SOLO]

Calling all cars, calling all cars check No red on neck no death stars left Cloud nine? Found my rye moldy Back bent over like a lawn chair folding Cats maw scolding, guts on fire Eyes why at the sky as the pyre grows higher Seems unwind from his old grey coat, Whether freestyle rhyme or line from a note Spine unaligned all in a twist, Time on a line s'all in the wrist Hood up, man-boobs, thyroid leaking, Ballpoint sketch like a fanboy geeking I'm open in the middle I'm closed at both ends I'm a villain to my family I'm a hero to my friends Grasp at the last straw sinner to his kin, Juxtapose foes who just oppose this.

[HOOK - ARETHA FRANKLIN]

People let me tell you, I work hard every day I get up out of bed, and put on my clothes 'Cuz I got bills to pay

[VERSE 2 - AQUAKULTRE]

(Don't fall a-haha) When we drive, we feeling all the trees get the breezin The Cuts is Vile, I like the way he mistreat em I can give 'em bars a plenty that’s critical but I'd rather heal with words, that’s medicinal It's time to give a good vibration Break bread and conversate over good libations The frustration no hesitation, will arise Higher then a peregrine falcon in the sky Peace to the nieces and nephews I raise And the son I don't got, father figure I stay You know we got it, I figured I be The Martyr For working class guppies Just tryna make it to supper And we keep it very clever, Uh HUH, yo Whatever the case I waste no time Serving em with a taste But foist let me put on on my woirk boots and grab a dairy milk before I make it to curfew We Breezing

Juxtapose foes who just oppose this.

DOWNLOAD FOR FREE AT VILEGROOVE.BANDCAMP.COM

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warsmith-wolf · 6 years ago

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Phantoms in the Snow

“I’m telling you, Captain, what we saw weren’t no trick! Came at us with a pistol, cut half of us down in seconds - a bloody pistol! Had this bloody huge knife that he never even used, just held it there, like he knew it’d threaten us. Leerin’ like a skull. Black and white and walked like murder.

‘Gas grenades’, my arse! That thing was real! That weren’t no phantom!”

- Militiaman Wyatt, slated for execution for dereliction of duty. All life signs in recidivist holdout registered [MARTYRED] approximately fifteen minutes (Terran Standard) before scheduled execution by unregistered Adeptus Astartes strike team, presumed Phantasmagoras Astra.

Ill-trusted by any luckless enough to serve alongside them, the Star Phantoms are a Chapter whose reverence for the honoured dead takes precedence over any value they hold for life - matched only by their devotion to precise and overwhelming firepower. Deemed totally unsuited to direct allied support operations as a result, the formerly orphaned sons of Haakoneth - newly refounded on Jahga after the Badab War - subsequently fight far from allied lines. With the coming of the Primaris gene-stock after the emergence of the Great Rift, the Phantoms have seen a subsequent influx of new unit types, and the lightning-strike tactics of Reiver Squads have meshed rather successfully with prevalent Chapter doctrine.

What better way to round off the apparent death of Tumblr than with everyone’s least favourite goth gun nuts? Six attempts were made to get that white armour to work, and this Reiver was the only success.

@a-40k-author Heard you liked them Badab Boys, hope I did ‘em good.

#reiver squad #primaris space marines #adeptus astartes #space marines #space marine reivers #phantasmagorias astra #star phantoms #badab war #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #wh40k #wh40000 #wh 40k #40k #sfw

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jughead-is-canonically-aroace · 3 years ago

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[transcript:

A stranger is

an answer to the question "What am I like?".

The Image of God

"looking-glass self", which describes how we see yourselves reflected in other peoples' eyes.

1. We imagine how we appear in the eyes of another person.

A mask

known as the mirror test.

the uncanny valley

seen as writing on the "tablet" of the body. Wounds acquired in war, for example, told the story of a soldier in a form which all could see and understand, and the wounds of a martyr told the story of their faith.

From that perspective, Lévinas described the nature of the Other as "insomnia and wakefulness"; an

Injury

Wound

Mortal wound

Loss of human identity

until statues, often still nominally representing humans, had lost all but the most rudimentary relationship to the human form.

questions: "do you experience difficulty sleeping?" and "do you have difficulty falling or staying asleep?"

The Venus de Milo

The Winged Victory of Samothrace,

experience the phenomenon of phantom limbs; they feel body parts that are no longer there.

"body as an extension of the soul".

The figures are of superhuman dimension and, in the case of Adam, of such beauty that according to the biographer Vasari, it really looks as if God himself had designed the figure, rather than Michelangelo.

A somatic symptom disorder, formerly known as a somatoform disorder, is any mental disorder that manifests as physical symptoms that suggest illness or injury, but cannot be explained fully by a general medical condition or by the direct effect of a substance, and are not attributable to another mental disorder (e.g., panic disorder).

as acknowledgement of being real

pain persists despite removal of the stimulus and apparent healing of the body; and sometimes pain

explores the hypridity of the human condition through the metaphor of the cyborg.

See also

Preservation

In early abstract paintings, the body could be fragmented or dismembered, as in

physical sources of distress. Many, who overcome near-death experiences with no explanation, have described the will to live as a direct component of

such a work. The human figure has been one of the constant subjects of art since the first stone age cave paintings, and has been reinterpreted in

Body deformations, mutilations and other variations such as amputations, scars, burns and wounds.

Blushing, crying, fainting, hiccup, yawning, laughing, stuttering, sexual arousal, sweating, shivering, nose bleeding, skin color changes due to sunshine or frost.

Indeed, many sculptures previously considered cultural masterpieces are now

iconoclasts,

"finding oneself".

Where the Wild Things Are

strangers on earth, alienated from others and ourselves even in our own country".

A stranger is

the state of being different from and alien to

Fullest Feeling of Sublime - Immensity of Universe's extent or duration. (Pleasure from knowledge of observer's nothingness and oneness with Nature

whose Otherness is infinite;

a, or possibly the, fundamental fear".

confronted with when we experience the trauma of seeing a human corpse

or star lifespans.

see More Than This (disambiguation)

A stranger is

strangely familiar, rather than simply

Extinction -

despite the Image of God being partially lost

(also called

Prosopagnosia (from Greek prósōpon, meaning "face", and agnōsía, meaning "non-knowledge"),

A name is

being made or becoming holy.

Occasionally people simply want to reduce any uncertainty. They may want to know for the sheer intrinsic pleasure of knowing what they are truly like.

A well-executed portrait is expected to show the inner essence of the subject (from the artist's point of view) or a flattering representation, not just a literal likeness. As Aristotle stated, "The aim of Art is to present not the outward appearance of things, but their inner significance; for this, not the external manner and detail, constitutes true reality."

A stranger is

2. Experience of the mysterious. Art provides a way to experience one's self in relation to the universe. This experience may often come

limned with the abject fear of loss:

While some scholars consider this a result of the painting's unfinished state,

The wound healing process is not only complex but also fragile, and it is

Sacred

growth, survival, change, and fury.

end transcript]

“Stranger,” poem assembled from quotations from Wikipedia

#art #poetry #collections #collage #image description

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terriblelifechoices · 6 years ago

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For the fic writers ask how about 1, 11, and 13?

From the fanfic ask game here.

1. What made you start writing fanfic?

Oh man. This is embarrassing.

Okay. The year is 1999, and after a sixteen year hiatus, George Lucas has unleashed a new Star Wars movie on the world.

I really wish that I could say that I found the Phantom Menace so terrible that I started writing fanfic because canon was broken, but the reality was, I had no freaking idea the Star Wars fandom existed as something other than “those weirdos who liked those old sci fi movies.” I did, however, have a Very Obsessively Fannish friend, who not only made me watch the original trilogy (on VHS, because I am a fandom old) but convinced me to watch the latest movie.

My Very Obsessively Fannish friend invented a Self-Insert character who was Obi-Wan’s love interest/rival. Another friend invented a Self-Insert character who was the first friend’s twin sister. I invented a character from farther back in the timeline, and stole shamelessly from a book I was reading at the time. I started writing fanfic about those characters because it amused my friend. We’d swap the notebooks back and forth in between class periods, and I’d get them back with comments in the margins. It was fandom in a very small microcosm. (And, you know, writing fanfic in class kept me from being terribly bored. So there was that.)

I didn’t really participate in fandom as anything other than a lurker until the first Fantastic Beasts movie came out. With new fandoms, I usually hit up the kinkmeme once I’m done consuming the available media on AO3. I like reading what stories other people want to see, as well as the various and sundry fills.

And then I hit the prompt for Impossible, and it chewed on my brain until I started writing it.

11. What kind of relationships are you most interested in writing?

Romantic or sexual relationship-wise, I am such a sucker for the Badass Protector (now with bonus martyr complex) and the unexpectedly powerful Cinnamon Roll.

This post sums it up better than I can. But I really do enjoy relationships where “the first step is be attracted to a powerful man, the second step is completely fucking annihilate him.”

That said, if we’re not talking about romance, I fucking LOVE Found Family and Families of Choice relationships. They are absolutely my favorites.

13. Name three favorite characters to write.

Percival Graves. (Speaking of Badass Protectors with bonus martyr complexes…) We never actually get the canon version of him, which means all canons are valid and my preferred brand of ‘honor with martyr complex’ is just as valid as anyone else’s headcanon/preferences.

Gellert Grindelwald. I like writing Grindelwald for the same reason I like writing Percival Graves. There’s a lot of room to play, even though there is (arguably) more canon regarding the character. I think I find the idea of Grindelwald more interesting than what we’ve seen in either of the movies – not just a villain, but a leader: charismatic and silver-tongued as the serpent in the Garden of Eden.

Jacob Kowalski. I love Jacob. I really do. Jacob in canon is wonderful. Jacob in fanon is equally wonderful. There’s no alpha male posturing, just cheerful acceptance. Also, as someone who enjoys baking, how can you not love a character who bakes?

#fanfic ask game #ask me anything #tora42

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earthboundjedi · 7 years ago

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Written for @superherotiger for the Rebels May the Fourth exchange! I absolutely loved working on this and might have gotten a little carried away. Spacedad and spaceson (Kanan and Jacen) feels ahead.

Jacen leaned on the railing of the communication tower as he watched the twin moons of Lothal rise on the horizon. The capital city glowed in the distance, a glimmering, bustling symbol of hope and perseverance nestled in the heart of the planet’s expansive plains and mountains. It was a pleasant enough place to visit; he remembered coming here many, many times with his mom when he was younger. Back then, Lothal and the rest of the Galaxy had just wrested its freedom back from the Galactic Empire; as such, General Syndulla and her son were always welcome visitors.

This visit, Jacen wasn’t here with his mother. He found it was much easier to move about the city, slipping down side streets and lurking in all manners of pubs and hole-in-the-wall diners, without his extremely recognizable mom at his side. It was weird, actually, not having her here - for as long as he could remember, the two of them (and their grumpy C1 droid) had practically been inseparable. But during their last trip here, something had started nagging at the back of his mind while they wandered up and down the city’s streets; once they left the planet’s surface, it was as if something was immediately trying to call him back.

After many rotations, when the soft whispering at the corners of his awareness didn’t fade away, he broached the topic with his mom. He asked her what it was and what it could mean, and he had watched while she regarded him with a thoughtful, misty-eyed look. He’d never forget her response: “You have questions, Jacen. I can’t answer them, but the Force can.” She let him take the Phantom II (how the ancient Clone Wars-era shuttle was still in flying condition, he had no clue), making him promise to bring both the shuttle and himself back in one piece.

That had been maybe four rotations ago. Since then, he’d been relentlessly searching the town, eavesdropping on all manners of conversations, hoping to find the shred of a sliver of a hope of what the kriff he was even supposed to be looking for. He was tired, frustrated, and alone.

Maybe I should leave and meet up with Mom on Ryloth.

But as soon as he had the thought, the whispering started a new chorus of nagging at the back of his mind. It spoke no words to him, only gifting him with a confusing, nebulous feeling that he couldn’t put any sort of name to.

Jacen tugged the hood of his cloak over his head, hiding his wolf tail of dark green hair and the smattering of green freckles that dotted his cheekbones. His mom had mentioned the Force, that somehow it was the thing that could help with the whispers in his head. But as far as the Force was concerned, he was skeptical at best. Sure, he’d met the great Luke Skywalker, the last of the Jedi who had ‘brought balance to the Force’, whatever that meant. But upon meeting one of the people who’d fought alongside his mom in the Rebellion, Jacen’s impression of the man hadn’t been very… impressive. Luke was a cool guy and all, but the whole ‘mystical Force-wielding warrior’ thing? Jacen didn’t buy it. In his opinion, the man was just an extremely lucky farmboy-turned-rebellion-hero, who now had some sort of school to teach others his lucky Force-wielding ways.

His mom insisted that his dad had been a Jedi, too. She’d told Jacen many stories of how the two of them went around the Galaxy and helped people, formed their rag-tag found family, and fought with the Rebellion since its infancy. Of course he believed her - she was his mom, after all. And he’d talked with Uncle Zeb and Aunt Sabine frequently enough to know the stories were true, all of them.

Which meant the story of how his dad had sacrificed himself to save the others during one of their last missions as a group was, tragically, true as well. His father, Kanan Jarrus - the Jedi, the hero, and the martyr who never lived to see the birth of his son. By all accounts, a legend. A man with a legacy so storied and noble that Jacen could never hope to hold a candle to that blazing bright flame. And he definitely couldn’t ever dream of relating to that half of his parentage, other than the predominantly human features he saw every time he looked in a mirror.

Pilot or mechanic? Relatable. War hero? An occupation he would never aspire to, but a tangible thing nonetheless. But… Jedi Knight ?

Jacen groaned and covered his face with one of his hands, trying to ignore the sound of his insecurities and uncertainties mingling with the incessant whispering.

I need a drink.

Quickly descending the tower and making his way to his rented speeder, he started zipping down the main highway into town. He couldn’t outrace the whispers and doubts, but the sensation of the wind whipping in his face as he skimmed over the surface helped ground him. He still wanted that drink, though.

The grungy, welcoming sign of Old Jho’s was barely in sight when, out of nowhere, a white blur streaked across Jacen’s field of view.

“Whoah!”

He slammed on the brakes, causing the speeder to swing at an angle as it ground to a halt. As he caught his breath, Jacen spotted the source of the blur perched on top of some crates next to the road. It was one of the planet’s many Lothcats, sitting cool, collected, and completely oblivious to the danger it had narrowly avoided. But it wasn't like any of the Lothcats he'd seen before; this one had fur as white as a blizzard on Hoth and piercing blue eyes. Eyes that were staring directly at Jacen.

“Well, aren't you a strange little guy?” he mused.

The white Lothcat meowed and licked its front paw.

“I've got someplace to be, but you should be more careful when you're crossing the street.” Why am I talking to a tooka? It's not like it understands me.

Jacen repositioned his foot onto the gas pedal, intending to traverse the last couple of blocks between him and Old Jho’s. But at his movement, the Lothcat immediately raised its hackles and hissed at him.

“What? Why are you mad at me? I didn't hit you! Now scram!”

It lowered its hackles and resumed staring at him, watching him expectantly.

Jacen sighed and dismounted the speeder. “Fine. What do you want?”

The Lothcat looked him directly in the eyes, then turned to look at the horizon. Some of the whispers in Jacen’s head coalesced to form a thought of intuition.

“Do… do you want to show me something?”

The Lothcat chirped as it brought its gaze back to Jacen. As if it were trying to say: Obviously, Meiloorun-head.

“Okay then,” he sighed, “lead the way.”

The white Lothcat leapt from the stack of crates, landing nimbly on the other side of the fence Jacen had just passed that separated the concrete of the city from the expansive, grassy fields. It poked its head through a patch of grass, giving Jacen an impatient stare.

“Hold on, let me get turned around!” Jacen carefully maneuvered the speeder so he could execute a three-point turn in the empty passageway, bringing himself about to face the direction of the Lothcat. His speeder properly oriented, the small creature dove further into the grass and reappeared in a small opening a few feet ahead. Again it looked back at Jacen expectantly, twitching its tail as if to wave him forward. Jacen's gaze flicked between the Lothcat and the plains stretching out before him, the swaying grass tickling the twin moons where they hung low in the sky.

Speeding off into the unknown, following a white Lothcat? Sounds weird and reckless.

Let's get started.

Lightly revving the engine, the speeder moved forward off the road. The Lothcat immediately started racing ahead of Jacen, bounding through the sea of yellows and light browns. He strained to keep his sights on the bobbing blur of white as he chased after it, quickly losing sight of the city through the tall grass surrounding him. The flashes of white in the growing darkness were now the only thing guiding his way.

Well, that, and the chorus of whispers from the grass as it brushed by him, holding a cryptic conversation with the murmurs in the back of his mind. He couldn’t make any intelligible sense of it, but somehow Jacen knew he was heading in the right direction. He could feel it.

Heading towards what , though, he had no idea.

Eventually their chase through the seemingly endless plains led to a wide open clearing, where large circles of fine dirt and gravel prevented the tall grass from growing. The largest of the circles gently sloped inwards towards its center, like a crater or excavation site. The Lothcat stopped at the edge of this circle, causing Jacen to once again slam on the brakes to avoid hitting his animal guide. It meowed at him and hissed at the speeder, clearly trying to communicate that the machine should be left at the edge of the clearing. He dismounted, and instantly the Lothcat began trotting forward, down into the mysterious pit.

“What is this place?” Jacen mused as he walked behind the white Lothcat. As they moved further into the clearing, wisps of fog started accumulating at the edges of the grass, obscuring the rest of Lothal’s landscape so that only the empty clearing was visible.

Scratch that - not empty. In the very center of the pit, still a long ways away from where he stood, sat some sort of grey rock.

Maybe it’s a magic Force rock? Or maybe… didn’t Mom mention that Lothal once had a Jedi temple? Maybe this is the last remaining piece of it?

Trying to keep his hopes from soaring too high, he continued towards what was possibly the last object on Lothal that might actually help him answer the questions stirring inside him. When the pair got close enough to the center, the Lothcat scampered up to the top of the rock, its white coat contrasting with the soft grey surrounding it. Turning in a little circle, it contently nestled itself into the long, furry moss covering the stone.

Hold up.

… Long, furry moss?

That’s no stone.

Jacen stumbled backwards, falling onto his backside in the dirt, when the not-stone started shifting. The large, grey mass rose onto four large, grey legs; a bushy tail unfurled and swept past Jacen’s feet as the not-rock started turning. Soon, he was face-to-snout with by far the most beautifully terrifying creature he had ever seen.

Holy kriff, I’m about to get eaten by a Lothwolf. Mom’s gonna kill me.

The wolf towered over him, its warm breath beating against Jacen’s wind-stung cheeks. A low growl escaped through its teeth, though somehow the sound didn’t bring the impending sense of doom Jacen thought it would. Possibly because the white Lothcat, still cutely perched atop the Lothwolf’s head, flanked by the beast’s pointed ears where the Lothcat had nestled into the mass of grey fur.

When the Lothcat mewled from its perch, Jacen's gaze briefly drifted upwards. A dark grey pattern marked the wolf’s forehead, the shape of which was achingly familiar. He didn't examine it for long, though, feeling the urgent need to make eye contact with the Lothwolf.

“Uh,” he stammered, “What… what do you want from me?”

Despite asking the question aloud, the last thing Jacen expected was a verbal response.

“You. Must. Learn,” the wolf slowly articulated. The words were like a cross between a growl and a howl, and it was entirely possible Jacen was simply imagining the whole exchange. Then again, if the Force was somehow involved in whatever this unusual encounter was, anything was possible.

“Learn what?”

The wolf narrowed its eyes, irritated at the interruption. “Who. You. Are.”

Jacen barely restrained himself from letting a series of questions and comments burst from his mouth.

But I know who I am! I'm Jacen Syndulla. Son and copilot of the best pilot in the Galaxy. Why would I be anything else?

The wordless whispers in the back of his mind hadn’t ceased yet; rather, they seemed to be getting louder, escalating to an annoying buzzing sensation that simultaneously made him agitated and empty.

Somehow, through all the noise, he heard the Lothwolf speak again:

“Your… Legacy.”

Before Jacen could wonder what the newest addition to the cryptic message could mean, the Lothwolf lowered its snout so that its nose was touching the center of his forehead.

There was a flash of white light.

And then… nothing.

Jacen looked around at his surroundings, worry rising in his chest when he couldn’t see the grey Lothwolf or the white Lothcat. The worry morphed into a full-on panic when he realized he couldn’t even see the dirt or the grass or the moons of Lothal anymore. He was surrounded by darkness as far as the eye could see. Though not total darkness - the black sky he saw stretching in every direction was dotted with tiny white pinpricks of light. It was as if he was floating in some sort of Galactic void and standing among the stars.

The incessant whispers in his head ceased, magnifying the silence of the strange place.

“Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing in his ears despite the clear lack of any walls or other smooth surfaces for the sound to bounce off of. “Is anybody there? Somebody? ...Anybody?”

But nothing returned his call.

Slumping to his knees, Jacen buried his face in his hands.

What am I doing here?

Why did I come here in the first place?

I’m not cut out for all this weird stuff. I’m practically useless on my own. I should never have left Mom.

“I just want to go home…” he sobbed aloud.

“Already? But you just got here!”

“I know, but - eeAAAGGHH!” Jacen shrieked, his heart pounding as he searched, wide-eyed, for the source of the new voice. But he still couldn’t see anything. “Who are you? Where am I? What do you want?”

“I guess you wouldn’t recognize my voice, huh? Hold on, give me a second…” slowly, about five feet in front of Jacen, some of the balls of light started coalescing to form the outline of a figure. “It takes a surprisingly long time to form a body after floating around in the living Force for… what, twenty years?”

“Who… who are you?” Jacen repeated. “ What are you?” He watched as the figure of light gradually took the shape of a human, complete with a lightweight set of green armor and striking blue eyes. On the shoulder of the figure’s - well, man’s - armor was that odd symbol again, the same one he’d seen on the forehead of the Lothwolf. The familiarity of it tickled a thought in the back of Jacen's mind.

I know I've seen that symbol somewhere before...

“Jacen,” the fully-materialized man said calmly, settling on his knees in a meditative position, his eyes brimming with pride and love, “I am your -”

The puzzle finally clicked into place. “ Dad?” Jacen’s voice shook, staring incredulously at the vision before him.

“Well, I was going to say 'father’ - seemed a little more dramatic, you know? But -”

“But how?” Jacen interrupted again, “Mom said you were dead! That you died before I was even born!”

I'm dreaming. I had one too many drinks at Old Jho's again, and now I'm hallucinating. That's the only way any of this makes sense.

“Hera…” the man claiming to be his father muttered, staring wistfully off into the distance before turning his attention back to Jacen. “You know, you have your mother's eyes.”

“Funny, she always said I had your eyes. But you still haven't answered the question,” he pouted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Which was…?”

“How is it I can see you? Talk to you? After all this time…”

“You don't need me to answer that question,” Kanan smiled softly, raising one of his eyebrows. “I think you already know.”

“I don't! I don't know anything! I came here because I have questions, not answers!” Tears started collecting at the corner of Jacen's eyes as he became overwhelmed by frustration and a sea of other nameless emotions.

“And what was it that led you here?”

“A white Lothcat. And a wolf. I think.”

Kanan chuckled, “Go figure. But that's not what I meant. Why bother coming here to Lothal in the first place?”

“I told you, because I have questions!”

“Breathe, Jacen. Focus your thoughts. Why is it you are here, talking with me, instead of asking Hera these burning questions of yours?”

“I tried asking Mom! But I couldn't really explain it, and… and then she…” At last, the lightbulb turned on. “She told me the Force would answer me,” he sighed.

“Well, there you have it.”

“So, what, you mean to tell me you're the Force?”

“Part of it, yes. Just as you are, and your mother, and every other living thing in our Galaxy. It's… a lot to take in, I know.” Kanan gestured for Jacen to come closer.

“Wait, so…” Jacen started as he settled on his knees in front of his father, mimicking his meditative pose, “Does that mean you're not dead? Why didn't you come back sooner?”

Kanan’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Oh, I'm afraid I'm very much dead. But just because someone dies, that doesn't mean they're gone.”

Jacen pondered his words for a few moments before speaking again. “Alright. So the Force is helping me speak to you, so I'm assuming this is some sort of Force-void thing we're in?”

“It doesn't really have a name, but sure, let's go with that.”

“So… why now? I've come to Lothal a bunch with Mom, why didn't I ever stumble on this place before?”

“Because now you're finally ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“To continue the family tradition.”

Jacen narrowed his eyes. “You're going to have to be more specific.”

The corners of Kanan's mouth twitched in amusement. “Think about it for a second. Would the Force really call you here for flying lessons?”

Jacen tried to keep his thoughts from running in a million different directions.

He can't possibly mean… becoming a Jedi? Me?

“But I've never really felt… Force-y,” Jacen commented.

“The Force is strong with you, Jacen,” Kanan smiled warmly. “It has been since the day you were born. You just haven't been attuned to it until now.”

“But why now ?”

“Because the balance of the Force is at risk of collapsing. You have already learned a great deal from your mom - now that you have grown into a young man, it is time for you to learn a new path.”

“... Jedi training?” Jacen asked softly.

Kanan nodded.

“But… how will you teach me if you're dead? Or… a Force ghost, or whatever. Do I have to stay here?”

“As much as I would love to share in that part of your life, I cannot teach you. I'm…” Kanan gave him a mischievous look, “dead serious.”

Jacen groaned.

“But in all seriousness,” Kanan continued, “someone else will guide you in the ways of the Force. Someone still living.”

“... Like Luke Skywalker? Do you want me to join his Jedi academy?”

“Oh, hell no. He's got enough on his hands - er, hand - with that lot he's got now. No... there's someone else I want you to seek out.”

“There's someone else besides Luke? Who?” Jacen could feel his excitement rising. Everyone always said that Luke was the last of the Jedi, but if there was someone else…

“He'll be difficult to find.”

“Who?”

“My former padawan.”

“ Who?! ”

“Ezra Bridger.”

Jacen gasped. “Really? He's out there? Aunt Sabine and Ahsoka went searching for him ages ago, but they still haven't come back!”

“Then I guess you’ll have to find them, too.” The edges of his father's form started glowing a soft white; the reunion of father and son was almost at its end.

“Wait, but how will I find them?” Desperation was creeping into the undertones of Jacen's voice.

“You’ll find your way. I have faith in you.” Kanan reached out and placed a hand on Jacen's shoulder. Though his body was rapidly dematerializing, the touch was surprisingly solid.

“But I don't even know where to start! Please, don't go !” Jacen cried out as he felt the void around him shift, causing his stomach to flip and the shape of Kanan Jarrus to further dematerialize.

“Do not be afraid. Trust in yourself. Trust in the Force. For I will always be with you…”

Vertigo overtook Jacen and he found himself lying flat on his back, staring up at the twin moons of Lothal.

“... my son ,” the words hung on the wind, whispering before it left to dance in the tall grass.

Jacen slowly sat up, wiping dirt from his tear-stained face. He was alone in the clearing, his speeder still parked at the edge of the field right where he'd left it. Getting up and brushing off his pants, he made his way over to the bike. Jacen's hand trembled when he held on to one of the handlebars.

What… what just happened?

Am I seriously going to become a Jedi? Just like my father?

He heard a rustling off to the side. Whirling around, he laid eyes on the white Lothcat, sitting innocently in front of the tall grass and watching him expectantly.

Jacen nervously chuckled as he tried to calm his racing heart. “Hey there, little guy. You wouldn't happen to know where I can find Ezra, do you?”

The white Lothcat simply gave him a knowing look and meowed.

#rebelsfourthexchange #superherotiger #jacen syndulla #kanan jarrus #rebelsgiftexchange #star wars rebels #swr fanfic #the jedi writes

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kasunex · 5 years ago

Text

MBTI Tag Meme Revisted

Alright so a long time ago I was tagged in this MBTI post that had people post characters of their type. At the time, I believed I was either an ISTJ or INTJ and responded accordingly. Since then, I’ve researched quite a bit more about Myers-Briggs and even taken the cognitive function test (introverted intuition dominant, extroverted feeling secondary), and can be relatively certain that I am actually an INFJ.

So, with that said, I thought it would be interesting to redo this post and see what characters I jive with. I’ll be using Personality Database for this, as it’s based upon debate and voting as opposed to just someone typing characters randomly.

Elsa (Frozen)

Ironically a character that I initially saw typed as an ISTJ. I’m a guy so naturally I’ve never been much into Disney Princesses, but Elsa is one of my favorite Disney characters. I can relate to her struggle to hide her true feelings and identity from others, and her relief when her carefully constructed persona falls apart. There was a time I went through a similar experience myself.

Remus Lupin (Harry Potter)

He’s always been my favorite character in that series, though it’s been a while since I last read the books or watched any of the movies. Admittedly though, a big part of why I liked him was less his character per se and more his lycanthropy and the way this was handled from a world building perspective. Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars)

I can definitely relate to his blind faith leading to a complete inability to see what a prick Anakin is becoming in Revenge of the Sith, as well as his infamous “So what I told you was true... from a certain point of view” line. There have been quite a few moments that I’ve found myself repeating that quote in my mind. He was also my favorite character in the novelization.

Qui-Gon Jinn (Star Wars)

My top highlight of the Phantom Menace, though I do have a bias towards Liam Neeson (who is also typed, on this site at least, as INFJ). It’s been a while since I’ve seen the movie, so I can’t say whether or not I agree with the typing.

Kaworu Nagisa (Neon Genesis Evangelion)

Yeah, I can definitely see this one. He’s rather absorbed in his own thoughts, but very gentle and accepting towards Shinji, ultimately sacrificing himself for mankind’s future. He gave me massive creeps the first time I watched NGE (probably because he seemed too pure for such a fucked up cast) but I’ve grown to like him a bit more over time.

Kiritsugu Emiya (Fate/Zero)

My favorite Fate character and one of my all-time favorite fictional characters. He’s such a cynical and tragic figure, but at the same time, he feels very complex and sympathetic. I can see a darker side of myself in him, where I might have ended up had I been more traumatized, or succeeded in my once goal to emotionally detach myself and become the persona I wanted to. He’d kill his own wife and daughter for the sake of saving humanity, to say nothing of what he’d do to bystanders. It’s remarkable how I can find myself so horrified by his actions yet in such admiration of his determination and goals nonetheless.

Makoto Yuki (Persona 3)

What’s weird about this one is that I can see why people would type him this way despite his character being vague and interpretive. He’s quiet and somewhat aloof, but knows how to mirror others, does what he can to help them, and his sacrifice against Nyx suggests a belief in the greater good. Even his asshole dialogue is very stereotypical of INFJs when they’re in an edgy sort of place, as I was when I first played the game. Some have interpreted his arc as being about an INFJ in an Ni-Ti loop learning to reconnect with their lost Fe, which is exactly what playing Persona 3 helped me to do.

Hiro (Darling in the Franxx)

Ah yes, my boy. The fictional character I relate to most strongly. It was actually seeing him typed as an INFJ that got me thinking about Myers-Briggs and looking into it more seriously. His total absorption in his goals, his rose-tinted view of others, and his reluctance to seek outside help even when he clearly needs it, that’s all just like me. It was so beautiful to watch his faith in Zero Two come to fruition.

My being the history nerd that I am, let’s also see if there are any historical figures typed as INFJ that I’ve got some thoughts on.

Jesus of Nazareth

Well, definitely starting off high here aren’t we? With quite a few INFJs being martyr/messianic archetypes, it makes sense that list would include the original.

Adolf Hitler

Aaaand, we’re falling to the opposite extreme with this one. Truly ironic that the people viewed as the archetype of good and evil in Western culture are both typed as INFJ. But indeed, Hitler is the epitome of the dark side of INFJs; their ability to motivate others to commit absolute atrocities in the name of a callously twisted vision for society.

Chiang Kai-Shek

Well, if he is an INFJ, it would explain why I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for him. He was a brutal dictator in many ways, but he always justified his actions as being in pursuit of a stable, unified, democratic China. Much like with Kiritsugu, while I can’t approve of his methods, I can very much support and admire his goals, and I do believe that both China and the world would be better off had he succeeded.

Thomas Jefferson

The closest person to being my namesake. He’s gotten a notable decline in popularity in recent decades because of his hypocrisy in his values, preaching equality of men while owning slaves and treating them rather barbarically. But that said, I’d consider him to be a “do as I say, not as I do” type. For as flawed as he was as a person, he was the one to found the American ideals of Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness, ideals that I certainly hold dear, and ideals with value far beyond his flawed implementation.

#Kasu.txt #Myers-Briggs #INFJ Personality

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lamelinam · 7 years ago

Text

Padme’s role in RoTS : Faith is an active choice.

“For years fans have wondered who was the mysterious, unnamed mother of Luke and Leia. The only hint of who she had been was Leia's vague impressions expressed in Return of the Jedi: kind, very beautiful, but sad.

Finally with the release of The Phantom Menace, we were introduced to her: Queen Amidala of the Naboo, otherwise known as Padmé Amidala Naberrie. The young girl-woman in The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones was in many ways in the mold of her future daughter: smart, wise, resourceful, brave, and if need be, good in a fight. But with Revenge of the Sith, she joins a sisterhood of memorable women who suffer tragedy.

Padmé shares common traits with many traditional tragic heroines but in some ways she is unique. Traditionally, a tragic heroine suffers because of her own tragic flaw and/or the flaws of someone else, even her society or culture. Aristotle referred to this flaw as "harmatia," the accurate definition of which is closer to "mistake," "error," or "failing" than an innate flaw. Aristotle believed the flaw must result from something that is a central part of one's virtue, which goes wrong due to a misunderstanding or lack of knowledge.1 Antigone suffers because of her devotion to divine law, which demands she bury her brother, bringing her into conflict with the inhumane decree of King Creon, who forbade burial.2 Ophelia suffers because of Hamlet's inner conflict. Juliet's death is brought about not only because of her love for Romeo but also because of the feud between the Montagues and the Capulets.

If Padmé had personal flaws according to Aristotle's definition, some may argue they would be her naivete, her innocence, her trust in the Republic as it was rotting away from within, her trust in Palpatine, and even her love for Anakin. Padmé tends to put a lot of faith in the innate good of others; Obi-Wan notes in the young readers' version of the Revenge of the Sith novelization that Padmé "always believes the best of everyone, until she's forced to see the worst. Such faith should be a strength, not a weakness." She suffers because of that faith in her leaders, the Republic, and in Anakin, because they all fail her. In fact, Padmé embodies the Republic's ideals and virtues: democracy, restraint over tyranny, and working for the good of others. Padmé is also associated with youth and beauty as well as wisdom. She comes from a world teeming with life and as the female lead of the prequel trilogy, as well as the mother of the heroes of the classic trilogy, she embodies the feminine, the anima.

At the beginning of the saga, the Republic was in its golden age. Padmé´'s homeworld of Naboo was an opulent and verdant world with stunning architecture and natural wonders. Its people were dressed nearly as elaborately as its ruler. Even the sleek spacecraft reflected a great appreciation for beauty. Women are seen everywhere in the prequels, in all stations of life; pilots, Jedi, Senators, handmaidens, bodyguards, and mothers. But the galaxy was changing and the young queen was caught in the middle of that change. She is brought in as a pawn in a political game that she understands too late. She is also introduced to the boy destined to change her life forever.

For most of the prequel trilogy, Padmé has been in constant danger and in need of protection. The Phantom Menace and Attack Of The Clones have a pattern. 1. Padmé is rescued, 2. Padmé is placed under protection, and 3. Padmé willingly leaves that protection to take action herself. She spends a great deal of time courting her fate despite the efforts of others to protect her. In The Phantom Menace, she is rescued from the Trade Federation and is able to remain on Coruscant where she is safe. Yet she chooses to return to Naboo to engage the Trade Federation in battle and re-take her planet. In Attack of the Clones, she is rescued after two attempts on her life and is put into Anakin's protection. Yet she chooses to first go to Tatooine with Anakin then she convinces him to go with her to Geonosis to save Obi-Wan, where once again she is forced to fight for her life. She narrowly avoids being killed by beasts, survives a battle that kills several Jedi, and then avoids serious injury after falling out of a ship. She gives several references to dying in the films. In The Phantom Menace, she mentions twice that her people on Naboo were dying. In Attack of the Clones, she mentions death four times during her love pledge to Anakin: "I'm not afraid to die...I've been dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life...our lives are about to be destroyed anyway...before we die I want you to know."

At the same time, the feminine energy, the anima, is slowly being destroyed. In Attack of the Clones, Zam Wessel, Cordé the handmaiden, and most importantly, Anakin's mother Shmi, die violently. In Revenge of the Sith, the final phase of destruction takes place. We see the betrayal and murder of two female Jedi: Stass Allie and Aayla Secura. Aayla in particular is murdered in an especially gruesome way, shot repeatedly in close range by several clonetroopers. Ironically she was on Felucia, a world teeming with life and giant blooming flowers. It climaxes with Padmé's death after performing the ultimate feminine act, giving birth. She dies far from her fertile living world where she'd planned to have her child(ren), in a cold environment deep in space, and attended to by droids that cannot understand what is wrong with her.

Unlike the pattern with previous two prequels, Padmé does not need rescuing from external threats in Revenge of the Sith. Dooku is dead and the Trade Federation seems to have forgotten about her. The irony is the external dangers from which Anakin seeks to protect her from throughout the prequel trilogy do not bring about her end. It's not the Trade Federation or hired assassins but her own shattered soul. However, like the other films, she chooses to leave her haven, this time on Coruscant, to take charge when things are dire. When Captain Typho volunteers to go with her, she refuses, saying the matter is personal and that she is no longer in danger. Finally, she could no longer avoid her destiny.

Some fans complained that Padmé was marginalized in Revenge of the Sith, but her isolation makes sense in the context of the story. Here she was at the height of her feminine power, pregnant and able to share a form of subconscious bond on occasion with Anakin.

Yet the Empire-to-be has no place for her. She is trapped and alone.

Padmé's death recalls traditional tragic heroines such as Isolde, who dies of a broken heart after her love Tristan dies. In Arthurian legend, Elaine The Lady of Shallot dies of love for Lancelot.4 In fact, dying of a broken heart is part of many legends, folk tales, and ghost stories. Others see parallels with Othello's Desdemona, who like Padmé is strangled by a husband who believes she has betrayed by him. Others view Padmé as being similar to Ophelia, who commits suicide after Hamlet rejects her. Because Ophelia and Desdemona are commonly viewed as passive victims, and Padmé had been a proactive character, some felt her death did not befit her character.

There is a literal way of looking at Padmé's death and a symbolic way. Padmé was as much a symbiont with her time and place as she was with Anakin. When the Republic era passes, she passes. In a cut scene from Attack of the Clones, the lesson in Padmé's story about the refugees she tried to help as a child was that those who cannot adapt die. She cannot adapt to this new galaxy. Moreover, she refuses to adapt. She tells Anakin he is going down a path she cannot follow. She bitterly utters, "So this is how liberty dies, with thunderous applause," after Palpatine crowns himself Emperor before a cheering Senate. When Vader in a rage cuts off her breathing, it symbolizes that the Empire, as personified by Anakin, is killing her.

She suffers not only the death throes of the Republic and its ideals, she also suffers with the physical and spiritual pain Anakin endures in his transformation into the Darth Vader we know from the classic trilogy. The film intercuts between Vader's agony on the operating table and Padmé's dying moments as she gives birth. When Vader's transformation is complete, she dies.

With Padmé gone, the aesthetics of the Star Wars universe changes: we see the utilitarian set of the Star Destroyer, the beauty of the earlier ships gone. The beautiful, colorful, and elegant costumes have been replaced by simpler and more drab garments in shades of gray. Even the last time we see Naboo in the prequels, all of the citizens are dressed in funereal black. We see of glimpse of the Empire's new order, a Star Destroyer crew made up entirely of men. Instead of the natural beauty of a planet, we witness the skeletal beginnings of the Death Star.

Yet in the end, unlike most other tragic heroines, Padmé wins. Those who dismiss Padmé as weak should consider this alternative view of Desdemona: "Desdemona's goodness furthermore is not simply passive or weak but an act of will...her refusal to blame Othello for his terrible treatment of her...must not be viewed as simply subservience but as a self-willed refusal to accept a bad opinion of the husband she has chosen...she stands by her love for him as something sacred, with a martyr-like determination: she tells Emilia, 'his unkindness may defeat my life/But never taint my love.'" Padmé, through her own will, refuses to believe Anakin is unredeemable. Ultimately Padmé is right about Anakin; there was still good in him and he could be turned back to the light. Her children bring down the Empire and restore the old values of the Republic. Padmé's life may have been short but she was never truly a victim. “

by lazypadawan

#Padme Amidala #character analysis #star wars #lazypadawan #feminine anima #jedi #siths #death of the republic #rise of the empire

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weirdpaul · 7 years ago

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Every Band I’ve Ever Seen Live!

Abdominal Snowmen

Abysme

Action Camp

The Afghan Whigs

Alabaster Box

Alan Astor

Alaska

Algebra Suicide

Align Alike

Allegheny Rhythm Rangers

Allies

Alpha Control Group

Alzo Boszormenyi

AM/FM

America Hearts

Amoeba Knievel

Anita Fix

Annie and the Bombers

An Offhand Way

The Anti-Psychotics

The Antiques

The Antiquities

The Aquabats

Assassinate Caesar!

Atom and His Package

Atomic Mosquitos

ATS

Auk Theater

Automatic Matty P

Aydin

Baby Bird

Baby Shakes

Bad Fathers

Bang Bang Lulu

BaggyPantsRich

Bald Mountain Band

The Bassturd

Bastard Bearded Irishmen

The Bastards of Fate

Bastro

Bat Zuppel

The Beagle Brothers

Beard Science

Bearsuit

Beasters

Beat Happening

The Bedspins

Ben Blanchard

Bennett-Blanchard

The Benquick

Big Mouth Strikes Again Billy Castle

Billy Catfish

The Billy Nayer Show

Birdcloud

Birthday Suits

The Blandinas

Blast Off 3.0

The Bloated Sluts

Bloodbaby

Bloodless Cooties

Bloody Incisors

The Bloody Seamen

Blue Chair

Blue Oyster Cult

Blue Skies Collapse

Blunderbuss

Bob Log III

Bobby Conn

James Bogacz

Bomb Banks

Boom River

Bootsy Collins

Bottomless Pit

Bowhunter

Bradford Reed and the Amazing Pencilina

Brain Handle

Brass Chariot

Brass Panda

Braz Cubas

Brewer's Row

Broke Boland & the Dirty Pickles

Brown Angel

BS2000

Buddy Nutt

The Bumps

The Burndowns

Burning Cacti

Burnout War Cry

Butter Kings

Butthole Lipstick

The Buzzcocks

C-Money and Karl Kash

Cactus Wheelhouse

Camp PP

Canasta

Candy Machine Guns

Canned Hamm

Captain Catfeesh

Casino Bulldogs

Casy Stelitano

Catnip Coma

The Causey Way

Caustic Christ

The Ceiling Stares

Celebration

Centipede E'est

Cex

Channel Scorpion News

Charlie Anteater

Charlie Slick

The Cheats

Chestnut Station

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Child Bite

Children of October

Choke City

Chris Leo

Chrome Moses

Churchbuilder

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City Dwelling Nature Seekers

The City Steps

The Claymores

The Clearing

Cloaca

Clownvis Presley

Cobalt Black

The Cocktails

The Code

Colin and the Shots

Colombian Express

Combustible Three

Concrete Elite

CooCoo Rockin' Time

The Copyrights

Corpus Christi

Cougars

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Crunk Witch

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Daily Grind

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Death of Samantha

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Developer

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The Devil is Electric

The Devil's Jukebox

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Devo

Die Kruezen

Dirtbag Diary

The Dirty Charms

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Discuss

Disrobe

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Divorce

Do Crimes

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Dollar Shots

Donora

Doog

Dookie Houser Emcee

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Down By Law

Downside

The Dozal Brothers

DQE

Drink Tax

The Dripp Brothers

Drug Dealer

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Duke of Uke

The Dumplings

Duo!

Dwarf Fortress

Ear to Ear

Earlimart

Earls of Industry

Ec8tor

Echolalia

Edie Sedgewick

Ed's Redeeming Qualities

Eggs

8 Cylinder

Eighty Eight Magnum

'85 Flood

El Boxeo

El Grosso

Electric Grandmother

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Eli “Paperboy” Reed

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Elsinore

Ember Schrag

The Emergency

Emerson Jay

Emily Jo Fabiszewski

Endless Mike and the Beagle Club

Eoley Mullulay

Erectus Monotone

Eric and the Electric MP3 Player

Erika Carey & the Calamities

The Eruptions

Eskimo '88

Estelle

Eugene Chadbourne/Jimmy Carl Black

Euphonic Brew

Everyone Everywhere

Evolution Control Committee

Ezra Lbs

Face Down in Shit

Falon

Fancytramp

Fangs of the Panda Fat White Family

Fate of Icarus

Jerry Fels and the Jerry Fels

Fezzwig

The Fife and Forth

The Fingers

Fire & Sex

The Fireworks

First Into Space

First Jason

First Person Singular

The Fizzies

Flaming Lips

The Fletch-heads

Flotation Device

Flotilla Way

Folk Implosion

The Forbidden Five

Forgotten Nobody

Four Dead Flowers

The Four Roses

Four Seasons Boys

Frank Barone

French Toast

Fry Jones

Gadgits

The Garden

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Gary Musisko

Gary Twoman

Gentleman Auction House

George Willard

German Shepherd Ghost Road

Gil Mantera's Party Dream

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Girl Trouble

Glad Girls

Go Pills

Go Pillx

The Goblins

The Goonies

Goonland

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The Gothees

Grand Buffet

Grand Piano

Granola Explosion

Grant Valdes

Gravel

The Graveyard Rockers

Great Ants

Greg Cislon

Groundwater Mafia

The Grow Ops

Grumpy

Guided By Voices

Guru Guru

Guyliners

Half Japanese

Happy Flowers

Har Mar Superstar

HARM

Hard Money

Harry and the Potters

Heaven & Hell

Heavy Cream

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Height

The Heiz

Helmet

Hell Yeah the Hellcats

The Helper T-Cells

The Heretics

The Hidden Twin

The Hi-Frequencies

The Hillbilly Varmints

The Hips

The Hodag

Hogwind

The Homostupids

The Hope Harveys

Hot Dog Forest

Hot Mess

Hotness

Houdini's Psychic Theater

House of Assassins

Household Stories

Hovland

Howard Jones

HTML

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Terror, Inc.

Testament

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worldonfire-spn · 8 years ago

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PYRE

Beata Maria, you know I am a righteous man then tell me, Maria, why I see her dancing there why her smoldering eyes still scorch my soul Castiel sees the demon Meg and knows he is lost. It is in the soft heat and rolling flames, shadows undulating across the room. He sees the flicker of her true face and feels no horror. He stands at her mercy, but there is no scrape of talons or razor teeth. She watches him with an eerie, patient calm. Only the wall of fire keeps him from impulsively reaching out. Her words as she provokes him hold less venom than either of them expect, and when he finally has the demon in his arms, all either of them can do is stare. I feel her, I see her the sun caught in her raven hair is blazing in me out of all control With each new encounter, Castiel logs away another piece of her in his mind. The clever upturn of plum lips. The shift of dark eyes that drink him in. A tangle of curls cascading down her back. Each part of her curses him with a foul longing, one that burrows down straight to his light. She has ruined him with a touch. It takes almost no time at all for him to fall, and fall far. His wings do nothing to recover his descent. like fire, hellfire this fire in my skin this burning desire is turning me to sin He knows it in the roll of her hips, the crash of her mouth. The bottomless depth of black eyes swallowing him whole. Castiel is willing prey. Their bodies surge together in passion, and they’re back in that ring of holy fire. A son of Heaven and a daughter of Hell. The affair consumes them, imprisons them. Gasping breaths and begging cries drown out all thought. There are death knells warning them, but they are starving. Nails scoring down his back, she draws his blood. She owns him. He worships her. With his body, with his heart. More more more; it’s never enough. it’s not my fault, I’m not to blame if in God’s plan he made the devil so much stronger than a man The tragedy goes on, far longer than it deserves. Longer than either of them intend. It grows and grows until hate turns to love and love turns to something like loyalty. They sacrifice the unspeakable. Castiel no longer has the right to call himself an angel. He is distorted; corrupt. She has polluted him, and he vies to regret it. On the contrary, Meg has witnessed a great light. Something akin to hope begins to fester in the demon’s mutilated heart. Together, they are martyrs. Divergent. They fight, they plunge. The further it goes, the deeper in love they fall, and the more they grieve what they’ve become. protect me, Maria don’t let this siren cast her spell don’t let her fire sear my flesh and bone But Castiel is a deceiver. He has fallen in more ways than one. Souls of Hell infect what goodness lies in him, twisting his mind. One too many spells and he’s defiled. Darkness bows to darkness. He begins to blame her. She has done this to him. Demon. He has lost everything, everything—she dare not leave him too. Castiel seeks her in spite of his sin, pleading absolution until he demands her allegiance. They fight, but it’s different; their programming resets. Wrong. Creation shudders on its axis, and something terrible disrupts the earth beneath their feet. This is wrong. They are falling too far. destroy Esmerelda and let her taste the fires of hell or else let her be mine and mine alone He will consume her. She is his, and his alone. Salvochd. Obey. Does she think she’s alive because she is strong? She is alive because of what he’s done to save her. To save all of them. Ungrateful, godless creature. The loss of her drives him to madness. Meg feels the pulse of his power at the crown of her head, a warning. She feels the phantom lick of fire at her feet, and a living panic cripples her. She doesn’t recognize him anymore. Anger and fear manifest into a fierce defiance. The demon lashes out; she tries to hate him. She calls him Judas, but he hears none of it. He is above their judgment. Castiel will have his war and he will win. She’ll see. She’ll understand. He’ll make sure of it. hellfire, dark fire choose me or your pyre be mine, or you will burn Meg runs, but it isn’t far enough. His hand twists around her throat. Back meets the wall. Blue eyes are dying stars, burning into hers with something new. Something possessive, something violent. This isn’t him, but she feels him there like a shadow ready to swallow her down. He has grown into a beast; a savage mockery of the pure being he once was, and it is because of her. She has destroyed the good in him, but knows she has no right to mourn the loss. His power drowns her, chokes the life from her. A part of her is perversely glad. Take me, punish me. Another part knows the true meaning of fear. Of desperate longing. Don’t do this. Come back. Castiel, come back to me. As she has ruined him, he has rebuilt her. How poignant that it should all end like this. God have mercy on her God have mercy on me but she will be mine or she will burn

#megstiel #megstiel family #becoming chapters #soundtrack #artwork

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queernuck · 8 years ago

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Subway Series: Baudrillard, Deleuze, and the New Century

The way in which Baudrilard describes September 11th, 2001 as an “absolute event” in light of its role within the concept of the West, as well as the manner in which neocolonial violence has been structured against “terror” in the 21st century is present in part in Deleuze’s description of “events” through the mathematical anthropomorphisms of Carroll, as well as the manner in which one can read Deleuze’s concepts of singularity alongside those of Badiou, the way in which singularity is a departure from horizontality, from a different state of affairs, a different state of the situation that must be realized in itself as a sort of relation, a means by which one can arrive at or create singularity.

Deleuze points out that mathematics is, in at least some understanding, not merely human nor limited by human understanding, but moreover that it is not without a process of naming that these theoretical maths become clear. In the same manner as theoretical physics, as a physics beyond observation is observable through the quantification of the quantum, a moment where artifice and apparatus-of-capture makes encounter meaningful, one expands the means by which one experiences while creating new levels on which experience can be described while in fact not meaningfully changing the standards of experience. Singularity, as a state of affairs, is structured by a series of points in the same manner as the horizontality of the line, but becomes an event through the process of problematization, through a reverse of collapse. Baudrillard is clear in stating that it was in fact implosion, a radicalization of internality, that was exhibited by the twin towers on 9/11. The internality of the towers, as indicative of a larger sense of internality, internality shared by the one and the Other, only realized through encounter, was destroyed much in the way that supposedly the identity of a Western self was challenged on this day, was martyred through the collapse of the tower and the sacrifice of its own.

The 1990s required a certain formation of the self in response to the collapse of the Soviet Union and the growth of neoliberalism: in order to better facilitate the universality of the neocolonial subject, a sort of radical adherence to recogntion of the Other was needed. The proliferation of radical assertions of a particular self, the self as asserted through postmodernist thought as well as postmodern situationality (the grandiosity of 90s rap comes to mind rather quickly) required a restructuring of the horizontality of life such that it could avoid problematization, it could avoid events entirely, it could become part of a hyperbolic state of affairs where development was the paradigm, where the development of the world was always progressing and moreover where the last great artifices of coloniality had been defeated, and now neocolonialism was being assembled on a global scale. Acts of schizophrenic identity, the identity of the shopping mall as a schizoanalytic means of dressing and feeding and providing for oneself, became the means in which the horizontal was structured. Hot Topic and Taco Bell cross-promoting Star Wars I: The Phantom Menace. A sort of movie itself beginning horizontality, an event made event through the singularity of Anakin Skywalker.

The way in which the 90s required horizontality was, as Baudrillard discusses when discussing 9/11, part of a sort of commodification of identity in order to disguise the neocolonial creation of metaculture, of taking the demarcations of culture instituted by colonialism and opening them to the entries of commodity, such that consumer culture could become the globalizing force of unification, the means by which markers of authenticity were realized. America fostered a sort of turn from socialism, a decade marked by violence and genocide but moreover by the means that American hegemony precluded anything even approaching an event, through problematizing singularities as mere parts of the horizontal, as in fact entirely normal. Oklahoma City and the first attack on the World Trade Center were non-events by this parlance. Gates to Heaven opened and shut, a comet came, and eventually the century, the millennium, ended.

In turn, the new one opened with the Subway Series, New York’s two baseball teams battling in what was understandable as the horizontal discourse of the town, the locating of singularity outside of time such that it could be stabilized within the globalized assemblage, the body without organs of the globe differentiated into a newly comprehensive globe. The globe included New York, it included Miami, it included London and the once-London represented by Hong Kong, it included a preserved Lenin and a dead Mao, a union no longer Soviet and the supposed global character of human rights from the UN. The two teams in the World Series were a subway ride apart, Bronx and Queens, the two most diverse places on earth competing for dominion over America’s Game of the World.

A year later, the implosion of the Twin Towers became a singularity beyond any other. It was followed by a new horizontality, a new means by which the event could be realized, problematization of the event used to separate strikes and covert actions and raids such that each is singular, each action is an action unto itself, every deployment of this or that brigade is separable from the other, so that the global character of globalizing neoliberalism may be rejected. That year, the Mets played the first American sporting event to follow 9/11, a baseball game where players wore NYPD hats and the final score is long forgotten.

The problematization of the event specifically lies in that which surrounds it, in how it is a singularity among points of departure, points that are linked through rhizomatic interaction and only understandable through schizoanalytic departures rather than the imposition of neurotic psychoanalytic frameworks onto them. The event is created, the event requires encounter, the event is part of a horizontality that bears the singular. Baudrillard describes the singularity of 9/11, contrasting it to the non-events of the 90s, the manner in which a lack of events was a manner of avoiding the problematics of singularity, the means by which singularity calls into question the generality of globalization, the individualization of neocolonial subjectivities.

The process by which subjects are able to be recognized is one that is specifically violent, is one that is specifically mired in their pain, in their failure. The 2001 Yankees came within one game of winning the World Series, but the Diamondbacks, lead by Curt Schilling and Randy Johnson, defeated them. Schilling would eventually go on to join the Red Sox and undo the Yankees once more, while Johnson would don the navy pinstripes of New York himself late in his career. The MVP was shared between Schilling and Johnson: their share was a sort of new individual of the two of them, a subjectivity of the Diamondback Pitcher that was contained elsewhere than the pitchers themselves. Merely particular as pitchers, they were a subject as a pair. This is the manner in which colonial subjectivity creates itself: as singularity from a horizontal of colonial resources, an exception to the preclusion from encounter that defines neocolonialism.

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theorthodoxbritreturns · 8 years ago

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On this day, of the year 355 A.D., St. Anthony the Great, the star of the wilderness, and the father of all monks, departed. This righteous man was born in the... year 251 A.D. in the city of Qimn El-Arouse, to rich parents who loved the church and the poor. They raised him up in fear of the Lord. When he was twenty years old, his parents departed, and he had to take care of his sister. Once, he entered the church and heard the words of the Lord Christ in the Gospel, "If you want to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasures in heaven; and come, follow Me." (Matthew 19:21) He returned to his house, decided to fulfill this commandment and considered it directed to him personally. He gave his wealth to the poor and needy, and he took his sister and placed her with some virgins. At that time, monasticism had not yet been established. All those who wanted to live a solitary life went and lived on the outskirts of the city. This was what St. Anthony did as he dwelt alone, worshipping and living an ascetic life. The devil fought him there by afflicting him with boredom, laziness, and the phantoms of women. He overcame the devil's snares by the power of the Lord Christ. After that, he went to one of the tombs, and he resided therein and closed the door on himself. Some of his friends used to bring him food. When the devil perceived his ascetic life and his intense worship, he was envious of him, and he beat him mercilessly, then left him unconscious. When his friends came to visit him and found him in this condition, they carried him to the church. After he somewhat recovered, he went back to the same place. The devil again resumed his war against St. Antonius, only this time the phantoms were in the form of wild beasts, wolves, lions, snakes and scorpions. They appeared as if they were about to attack him or cut him into pieces. But the saint would laugh at them scornfully and say, "If any of you have any authority over me, only one would have been sufficient to fight me." At his saying this, they disappeared as though in smoke, for God gave him the victory over the devils. He was always singing this psalm, "Let God arise, let His enemies be scattered; let those also who hate Him flee before Him." (Psalm 68:1) St. Anthony used to prepare a quantity of bread that would sustain him for six months. He did not allow anyone to enter his cell, and whoever came to him, stood outside and listened to his advice. He continued in this condition of solitary worship for 20 years. Then by God's command, he went to El-Fayyoum and confirmed the brethren there in the faith, then returned to his monastery. During the time of persecution, he longed to become a martyr. He left his monastery and went to Alexandria. He visited those who were imprisoned for the sake of Christ and comforted them. When the Governor saw that he was confessing the Lord Christ publicly, not caring what might happen to him, he ordered him not to show up in the city. However, the saint did not heed his threats. He faced him and argued with him in order that he might arouse his anger so that he might be tortured and martyred. But God preserved him all along, according to His will, for the benefit of many, and so the Governor left him alone. Then the saint went back to his monastery according to God's will, and many came to visit him and to hear his teachings. He saw that these visits kept him away from his worship. As a result, he went far away to the eastern desert. He travelled with some bedouins to the inner wilderness for three days, until he found a spring of water and some palm trees, and then he chose to settle there. On this spot now stands the monastery of St. Anthony the Great. The bedouins came to him with bread, and the Lord drove away all the wild beasts from this place, for his sake. On occasions, he would go to the monastery on the outskirts of the desert by the Nile to visit the brethren, then return to his inner monastery. His fame spread abroad and it reached Emperor Constantine. The Emperor wrote to him, offering him praise and asked him to pray for him. The brethren were pleased with the Emperor's letter, but St. Anthony did not pay any attention to it, and he said to them, "The books of God, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords, commands us everyday, but we do not heed what they tell us, and we turn our backs on them." Under the persistence of the brethren who told him, "Emperor Constantine loves the church," he accepted to write him a letter blessing him, and praying for the peace and safety of the empire and the church. One day, he was bored, and he heard a voice telling him, "Go out and see." He went out and saw an angel who wore a girdle with a cross, one resembling the holy Eskiem, and on his head was a head cover (Kolansowa). He was sitting while braiding palm leaves, then he stood up to pray, and again he sat to weave. A voice came to him saying, "Anthony, do this and you will rest." Henceforth, he started to wear this tunic that he saw, and began to weave palm leaves, and never got bored again. St. Anthony prophesied about the persecution that was about to happen to the church and the control of the heretics over it, the church victory and its return to its formal glory, and the end of the age. When St. Macarius visited St. Anthony, St. Anthony clothed him with the monk's garb, and St. Anthony foretold him what would be of him. When the day of the departure of St. Paul, the first hermit in the desert, drew near, St. Anthony went to him. St. Anthony buried St. Paul the hermit after he had clothed him in a tunic which was a present from St. Athanasius the Apostolic, 20th Pope of Alexandria. When St. Anthony felt that the day of his departure had approached, he commanded his disciple to hide his body and to give his staff to St. Macarius, and to give one sheepskin cloak to St. Athanasius and the other sheepskin cloak to Anba Serapion, his disciple. He stretched himself on the ground and gave up his spirit. The angels and the saints took his spirit and carried it to the place of perpetual rest. This saint lived for 15 years, struggling in the way of holiness and purity. His prayers be with us and Glory be to our God forever. Amen.

#Saint #orthodox #church #coptic #christianity #god #jesus #christ

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youbetterworkcovergirl · 7 years ago

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2018 Movies Watched

Mayhem

Creep 2

The Vault

Super Dark Times

Haunters

Lady Gaga Five Foot Two

Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle

Coco

Flatliners (2017)

Madman

Oxygen

Before I Wake

The Lodger

Marshall

Airheads

The Snowman

Rewind This

Big Business

The Crucifixion

Dinner with Friends

Natural Selection

When A Stranger Calls Back

Hairspray (original)

Geostorm

Return of the Living Dead 3

Empire Records

Heathers

Keep Watching

A Bad Moms Christmas

I, Tonya

Suburbicon

Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure

Only The Brave

Mr. Mom

Girls Against Boys

The Cloverfield Paradox

The Open House

Seed of Chucky

Trick or Treats

#Horror

The Blob (1988)

The Stuff

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

American Satan

Insidious 4: The Last Key

My Friend Dahmer

Waco

The Ritual

Black Panther

Nothing But Trouble

Deadly Blessing

Dismissed

Manson

Student Bodies

The Silent Scream

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missuori

The Buttercream Gang

House of Long Shadows

The Babysitters Club

Veronica

The Man Who Invented Christmas

The Shape of Water

So I Married an Axe Murder

Honey We Shrunk Ourselves

The First Wives Club

The Devil’s Arithmetic

Tom and Huck

Backdraft

The Brady Bunch Movie

Problem Child

Pitch Perfect 3

Winchester

Tormented

Prophet of Evil

Vincent

The Bat

The Comedy of Terrors

Witness To Waco

Echoes in the Darkness

To Catch A Killer

The Haunted

Seduced by Madness

True Crime

Night of the Creeps

Return of the Living Dead

Love Potion #9

Tragedy Girls

Fallen Angel

Adam: His Story Continues

The True Story: The Amityville Horror

Fatal Charm

The Zodiac Killer

The Real Amityville Horror

The Calendar Girl Murders

Terrifier

Cocktail

LA 92

Once Bitten

Explorers

Soulman

April Fool’s Day

Chopping Mall

Twins

Spookies

Crawlspace

Twins

Two Night Stand

Mr. Right

Spice World

Vibes

Behind the Curtain: Todrick Hall

The Truth About Cats and Dogs

The Big Green

Happily Ever After

Halloween Documentary

Poison Ivy

Singles

Gia

Forbidden

9/11

The Space Between

Rampage

Never Hike Alone

Who Put the Klan in the Klu Klux Klan

Frontier(s)

Four Rooms

The Strangers: Prey at Night

Poison Ivy II

Goodfellas

Detroit Rock City

Spaceballs

Soul Man

Space Camp

TerrorVision

Sometimes They Come Back

Hell High

Freaked

The Making of Halloween II

Going Postal

Tuff Turf

The Making of Prom Night

Exorcists: The True Story

Halloween: The Inside Story

Return To Crystal Lake

Rock and Roll High School

Rush Week

Maid to Order

Scream: The Inside Story

Iced

The Lightning Incident

Not Our Son

Glory Daze: The Life and Times of Michael Alig

Monster Night

HouseSitter

The OJ Simpson Story

Mister Frost

The Story of Motley Crue

Star Trek:Beyond

In Cold Blood: The Chris Lane Story

More Brains: The Making of Return of the Living Dead

Sidekicks

The Disaster Artist

Embrace the Vampire

Day of the Dead: Bloodline

Wish Upon a Star

Avengers: Infinity War

Stand and Deliver

Sphere

Forever My Girl

Earth Girls Are Easy

Cry Baby Lane

The Karate Kid

The Karate Kid Part 2

Sound of my Voice

A Quiet Place

Trust Fund

A Killing In A Small Town

Kristy

Hush

The Greatest Showman

November 13: Attack on Paris

Maze Runner: The Death Cure

Martyrs

Last Shift

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales

Amityville: Horror or Hoax

Amityville: The Haunting

The Love Witch

The Psycho Legacy

The Great Los Angles Earthquake

Stag Night

Overboard

Hell House LLC

Truth or Dare

Mom and Dad

Event Horizon

Deadpool2

Nobody Gets Out Alive

Love, Simon

No One Lives

Summer of Love

Snowbound

Bones

Hereditary

Justice Leauge

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom

Blockers

Breaking In

House II: The Second Story

Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood

Pacific Rim: Uprising

The Incredibles 2

Jurassic World

Amityville 3-D

Monkey Shines

Regression

L.A . Slasher

Dog Soldiers

The Wave

All Eyez On Me

Notorious

Inside

Killing For Love

Playback

Pacific Heights

Love At First Bite

The Sisterhood

Deceived

A Horrible Place To Die

True Story

The Gift

The Roost

Masterminds

Preservation

Untraceable

The Crow: Wicked City

Never Talk To Strangers

Blow Out

The Decade You Were Born: the 1980s

9/11: Fifteen Years Later

78/52 Hitchcock’s Shower Scene

Copycat

The Blackcoat’s Daughter

The Unspoken

The Ritual

I Am The Pretty Thing That Lives In The House

House of the Witch

The Vanishing

The First Purge

Tales of the Grim Sleeper

Rebirth

Don’t Hang Up

To Die For

Diary of a Serial Killer

Held for Ransom

Don’t Look Behind You

Menace II Society

Aftershock

10x10

The New Daughter

Spooked: The Ghosts of Waverly Hills

The Secret Life of Bees

Ready Player One

The Boston Strangler

Welcome Home Roxy Carmichael

Ricky 6

The Day It Happened: Columbine

Satan in the Suburbs

Deadly Detention

A Cry In The Dark

Girl in the Bunker

Unsane

The Haunted History of Halloween

DC 9/11: Time of Crisis

The Meg

Overboard (2018)

I Feel Pretty

Life Of The Party

In Memoriam: New York City 9-11-2001

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

Virginia Tech documentary

Columbine documentary

Nothing Left to Fear

If...

The 6th Day

Black Circle Boys

Splinter

The Tie That Binds

Bad Samaritan

Salem’s Lot

The Midnight Man

I Spit on Your Grave 2

The Tenant

Birth of the Living Dead

Shadow of the Vampire

Mimic

Halloween H20

The Midnight Man

The Endless

Summer of ‘84

Delirium

A Return to Salem’s Lot

An American Ghost Story

Won’t You Be My Neighbor

Frantic

Nosferatu The Vampyre

Pieces

Peter Rabbit

Ingrid Goes West

Pumpkinhead 2

Fear Inc.

The Nun

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari

Indecent Proposal

Snow White: A Tale of Terror

Killer Klowns from Outer Space

Harry and the Henderson’s

Bride of Frankenstein

Silent Night

Fahrenheit 451

Don’t Look Under The Bed

Devil’s Backbone Texas

American Psycho 2

Solo

the Cabinet of Dr. Calgari (1920)

Howling II

Scary Mary

The Looming Tower

Truth or Dare (2017)

Raising Cain

No Vacancy

Freaks of Nature

Munger Road

The Rocky Horror Picture Show: Let’s Do The Time Warp Again

Malevolent

The Phantom Of the Opera

The Divide

One Day At Horrorland

Casper

Night of the Demons 2

Hayride

I’ve Been Waiting For You

The Haunting of Hill House

The China Syndrome

Ghost Stories

Pyewacket

The Haunting

The Wolfman

Unfriended: The Dark Web

Jason X

Night of the Demons (2009)

Unlikely Angel

Creature from the Black Lagoon

Oujia Origin of Evil

Survival of the Dead

Swamp Thing

Halloween (2018)

A League of their Own

Down A Dark Hall

Milk Money

Blown Away

Freeway

Intruder

Slender Man

Book Club

ShowBusiness: The Road To Broadway

Dick Tracy

My Brother The Serial Killer

Joe Versus the Volcano

Mother’s Boys

Leap of Faith

Escape from L.A

Kid

P.U.N.K.S

Three Identical Strangers

RBG

Something Wild

Overloard

The Grinch

Fantastic Beasts 2

Office Christmas Party

Like Father Like Son

Harry Potter: A History of Magic

Men At Work

The Christmas Chronicles

The Wizard

Son In Law

Crocodile Dundee

Breakdown

Needle

Crazy Rich Asians

Searching

A Diva’s Christmas Carol

The Unauthorized Saved by the Bell Story

Toni Braxton: Unbreak My Heart

A Christmas Carol

Life-Size 2

The Christmas Toy

The Unauthorized Full House Story

After Hours

I’ll Be Home For Christmas

Whitney

Mrs. Santa Claus

Ant-Man and the Wasp

Blood Rage

A Very Claymation Christmas

Claymation Easter

Claymation Comedy of Horrors

The Show

Jingle All The Way

The Road Killers

A Regular Frankie Fan

Betty and Coretta

Blackkklansman

Devil’s Gate

Hamilton

Newsies

Newsies: The Musical

Demon House

Bird Box

The Rosa Parks Story

Patient Zero

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