#that hurt people hurt people

[autism-alley]

now that the show is over, i’m slowly revisiting things that are less fundamentally dysfunctional and more symptoms of the overall problems. one of those is hephaestus. the way his disability is so… reduced is. almost incredible. like, they started off on the right foot casting a disabled man, i appreciate that, but the way they utilize hephaestus’ disability, or rather don’t, leaves a lot of room to be desired.

first off, allow me to be annoying by saying he is not there in the book—but i don’t think the decision to add him is inherently a poor choice. it could work.

in the lightning thief, the way the kids get out of his trap is through annabeth’s intelligence in an action-packed scene. in the show, i was alright with the fact they changed the trap—foolishly assuming they were going to actually make something different of equal craftsmanship—but the end result is one of many instances of sacrifice way too early in the series, and an utterly underwhelming solution to that sacrifice—annabeth literally just asks hephaestus to free percy and. he does? i thought she was going to figure out how to reverse the throne’s trap; while she’s not a child of hephaestus, you’d think a child of athena with a passion for architecture would have some understanding of mechanics. it would have been different from the book, maybe not the best approach, but still emotionally satisfying. but alright, we’re… making an emotional appeal to hephaestus. putting aside my feelings about her rant of what exactly it is that makes percy different and worth freeing, why is the show’s hephaestus… so generally underwhelming?

my man was tossed from the fucking heavens by a parent—in pjo it’s hera—they could have visually used that to show hephaestus, like annabeth, does not want to repeat his mother’s cold and selfish ways. but he’s just. alright, first just look at these two guys.

before we get to the meat and potatoes, tell me which of these two guys look like they’ve spent a millennia in a workshop? the guy covered in grease and sweat, dressed in a stain-littered apron, tool belt at his side, muscle built for lifting heavy parts and swinging a hammer century after century? or the man with a neatly brushed, trimmed, washed beard and head of hair, clean hands, remarkably unstained sweater and flannel, crisp, new overalls, and academic-looking glasses? which looks to you like the embodiment of blacksmiths and the flame of the forge? yeah. but that can all be lumped in with my other wardrobe complains of the show, now we get to the section of this post where i would like to tread lightly.

i want to start by saying not all disability is visual, or even overtly visual, but hephaestus’ is and that visual is important to his character and the story. as a disabled person, i love that they cast a disabled actor, but based on how it was handled in the show, i had no idea this man was disabled. i thought he was an able bodied actor, and i am so sorry i came to that conclusion, but i really see no other one i could have come to based purely on what was in the show itself. i had to google who timothy omundson is to know he’s disabled and with what disability (he suffered a stroke that left him paralyzed on his left side in 2017 and has been in recovery ever since—godspeed my man, i hope it helps where it can). i am so glad it was a disabled actor and not an able bodied one, but he’s still not hephaestus. while obviously no mortal has fallen from the heavens, i think they could have made it work, but a man who’s had a stroke and a man who’s had his body crushed are not the same. i am not here to belittle this man’s experiences or say one is more severe, i am saying they are different, and not interchangeable.

regardless, a disability that is visual is no less than one that is invisible and timothy omundson’s paralysis is visual, but it was hidden. it was NOT clear to the audience timothy omundson is paralyzed, or that he is disabled at all. the gods can appear however they choose, but it’s a point that hephaestus generally does not, or his disability is implied to be such a hindrance on him, no matter how he chooses to appear, he cannot escape his disability, how glaringly visible it is. his body itself is a story of how the gods betray each other, how they literally eat each other alive and are so hypocritical about it. think of how impactful the visual of hephaestus is—has a parent ever rejected your existence so violently, your divine body is broken and disfigured for all eternity? it is a brutal establishment of the godly norm as ruthless, cruel, and petty abuse. and the show, for all its talk of how the gods are awful, just did not highlight his disability and its origins it at all.

again, i think including hephaestus in this scene could have worked, but not how the show went about it. imagine. annabeth, desperately fiddling with the throne’s inner workings, makes her emotional appeal to hephaestus. he’s partly obscured by shadow as he stands, watching from afar on the balcony, but we see a gnarled hand grasp the railing. annabeth, still pulling back the machine’s inner workings, tearfully describes how her mother punished her for embarrassing her. as she does, we receive a few close up shots of hephaestus, still leaving him mostly in the dark, but providing peeks at his disfigurements, and a hesitant but pained look in his eyes tells us he is reliving painful memories—a conflicted bead of sweat runs down the side of his face. it wouldn’t cost any more run time to use these shots while annabeth makes her plea to him, and the disability is in the spotlight, the parallel between athena/hera and annabeth/hephaestus is clear as a younger, more hopeful version of this emotionally broken man begs him to help her be different than both their mothers.

free my friend, she says. and for a moment, he just shakes. he opens his mouth, and annabeth—and the audience—lean forward to hear his reply. but then his face crumples with regret and resentment. he is still apart of the same wheel that crushes everyone in their path—if he, a god, could not escape, why would a demigod? why should a demigod?

no, the god of the hammer tells annabeth, you cannot escape.

annabeth, in her hubris, replies, maybe you can’t—and we cut to her hands, tearing away a gear to reveal a switch—realization flashes across her face, and she grasps the trap’s mechanical release. percy is free, and hephaestus, in his misplaced anger, unleashes more of his creations (mechanical spiders!!) after them, mirroring the book as the kids use quick-thinking to escape waterland.

it’s not perfect, but that would work. instead, they finally show a god rather than just talking about them and it’s so underwhelming. and yes, this hephaestus carries a cane, clearly the potential to show front his disability was there, but you cannot throw me table scraps and tell me my frustration at not receiving the feast i was promised is unfounded. it’s laughable. most of the time it’s on screen it’s not in use and there isn’t even reference in the show as to why he carries a cane. casual viewers unfamiliar with the books or greek mythology might mistakenly assume this is just how this god chose to present himself and he doesn’t need this cane, and not that disability is at the core of who this divine figure is. it is NOT clear to the audience this is a disabled character played by a disabled actor. it is, indefensibly, a watered down depiction. what in the book needed to be ‘fixed’ with hephaestus—? this is a disabled god, you dare not give him to me in all his disabled complexity? you dare not show him as he is?

one of the most insulting things you can do to a disabled person is reduce our disability and the show has done it to the greek god of disability, with such a cheap payoff. if they did not want to be true to hephaestus, to his actor, they should not have shown him at all, and maybe—i don’t know, stuck to the book whose narrative makes sense in this scene?

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[silverspleen]

Every time I see that G--gle phone photoshop commercial my heart is filled with infinite sadness, like, yeah it's cool you can have a good family photo, it's cool you can do that, but god, there is something to be said for the honesty of a family photo where you're blinking, or crying, or have ugly wrinkles.

What is too unsightly for you? Would you swipe-click-replace out the image of my cousin crying on our Florida trip family reunion photo? Would you remove the plastic snake I have clenched in my grip, which I still have to this day? Would you scoff at the wrinkles around our eyes and the strands of hair on our faces as we squint into the wind, the day before the massive storm? Would I remember it if I didn't have these reminders, if the picture was perfect and clean, all children in a row with perfect gleaming white tombstone tooth smiles? No tears. No plastic snake.

Everyone is beautiful and no one looks genuine.

[greykolla-art]

My blog has become infested with angst goblins, and they must be fed with some hypothetical scenarios!🙏💚

[zanmor]

We are well beyond canary in the coalmine warning levels with the way trans people and particularly trans women are treated on this site.

Maybe you've heard the metaphor of allowing wolves and sheep to share the same space, welcoming everyone. You end up with just wolves because allowing them in that space makes it unsafe for any sheep. Or the story about how a nazi goes into a dive bar and is refused service. The bartender then explains to someone else at the bar that if you serve them once they tell their friends and before you know it you're the nazi bar they all go to and normal customers don't feel safe.

Terfs and other bigots are seeing these targeted harassment campaigns succeed against trans women and rejoicing. They see Tumblr ban them and officially stand by those decisions as endorsement for their harassment. It's a sign to bigots across the internet that Tumblr is a good place for them.

And what's more is that a lot of us probably don't realize just how much trans women contribute to Tumblr. The women banned recently were sources of site-wide memes and posts I wasn't even aware originated from them.any years old memes and references can be traced back to trans women on this site.

How many of these folks have to be removed before this is no longer a site you want to be a part of it? Sure you cultivate your own experience, but you can't follow or interact with people who aren't here. And if I wanted to interact with the nazis and terfs I'd go to reddit.

I encourage everyone to reblog this. Trans women shouldn't have to be the only ones speaking out against the bigotry they're experiencing. They shouldn't be the only ones risking their blogs being nuked by staff. We have to stand with them.

[midnight-coffee94]

No single line has ever wrecked me as hard as this one from the Good Place and I think about it constantly

[cronchy-baguette]

When all this is over, will you stay with me? For good?

[voice-o-fallacy]

Heart, lungs, liver, nerves, heart, lungs, liver, nerves….

Time to combine two of my favorite games into one animation gif, at the cost of my poor neck…

[akanemnon]

I don't like this place. It's turning everyone edgy and sad.

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[greelin]

six packs are soo scary and unnatural to me. Put that beast AWAY

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

imagine getting twenty four hours of a fraction of a taste of what marginalized bloggers on this fucking site have been told "doesn't break TOS" for the past 15 years and deciding to openly threaten to just nuke the entire website lmfao

[chittychittyyangyang]

Listen, you should never film strangers in public without their consent, but I swear there need to be fines or something for people who do that shit in some spaces. For example: I had to go to the ER last night, and some jerk filmed a woman who just came in and was clearly having an asthma attack. She immediately got to go back, and he was unhappy about that. Believe me, I get that it sucks having to wait when you're in pain, but you don't get to pick who deserves care when. The medical system in the US is a nightmare, and the ER could be the worst moment of someone's life. No one deserves to be recorded because some jack ass believes someone doesn't look like they need care.

This is fine to reblog. People who film strangers should be shamed if nothing else.

[druid-for-hire]

[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]

a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury

[ruporas]

your love returns in tragedy (ID in alt)

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

Plain-text version:

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

P.S. Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[contact-guy]

CHRISTMAS EVE, 1890 - part 2 - part 1 here! One more part to come. I am not liable for any injuries that may occur if you choose to play this Victorian Christmas parlor game at home (but please let me know how it goes if you do)

(this is the Watson's Sketchbook series!)