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aliceslantern · 4 years ago

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Give/Take, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 5

Ienzo has been too busy since the war to be overwhelmed by the past. But with little progress to be made in his work with Kairi, old nightmares start to invade.

Riku is a glorified housesitter. Lonely and faced with no choice but to wait for a way to find his friends, he eagerly accepts when Ienzo asks him to help do repairs around the castle. Before long, the two strike up an unlikely friendship, united by their dark pasts and their attempts to be better people.

But just as they begin to consider something more... Kairi wakes up.

Ienzoku (Ienzo/Riku), post-Melody of Memory, slow burn. Updates Thursdays until it's done.

Chapter summary: Ienzo and Riku's friendship begins to deepen, raising questions about what they might feel about what another. Time passes.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo was exhausted.

The walk back from town felt longer than it ever had. Cid had tried his best to offer advice, but as it were, he couldn’t do much. Ienzo’s limbs felt heavy, the soles of his shoes worn thin from so many hours on his feet. I really should get new boots, he thought.

At least he was able to identify this feeling now, unlike the first time it had happened. He needed to try and sleep, if so for an hour or two. He didn’t want to collapse again. It was not a very flattering look. The first time it had happened, Aeleus had panicked and contacted Even, and the lecture Ienzo had received afterwards was not pleasant.

He knew better now. Rest first; at least a little. He forced himself to lay down and was so burnt out he slept dreamlessly, almost breathlessly, waking up just after dawn with an unpleasant crick in his neck. The notion of waking up for once not in a nightmare-induced panic was a bit disorienting; he blinked.

Ahead of Ienzo was another long day of no progress being made. He knew in his bones that was what would happen, but couldn’t justify doing much else. He took a shower, put on some clean clothes, and went to the communal kitchen to go get a cup of coffee, hoping that someone had filled the pot already.

Someone had, but not the someone he’d thought.

“Oh… sorry,” Riku said. “I figured I’d just… make some for all of us.”

Ienzo shook his head a little. “So you got in.”

“Yesterday. I helped Aeleus with some painting.” There was something jittery, almost nervous in Riku’s expression. Ienzo thought back to their last encounter and bit his lip.

“Oh. That’s good. Oatmeal? I was going to make some for myself.”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

It was still a bit uncomfortable, admittedly, to have his back towards him. Ienzo’s face was burning, and his heart was beating hard again, but not quite with the same panic as before. “I know Aeleus isn’t exactly the chattiest if one doesn’t know him well.”

“...Actually… he and I kinda had a good conversation. About…”

“Castle Oblivion.”

“What else?” he chuckled.

Ienzo dumped in the oats and turned to look at him.

“It’s just hard for me to pretend that never happened. Not since I’m here.”

“And since you quite literally live there now,” Ienzo added.

He shrugged. “Well. Staying there, anyway.”

He stirred their breakfast. “Is it very strange?”

“It’s eerie,” Riku admitted. “I’m the only one there.”

“...No wonder you’re looking for any reason not to be there.”

After a moment, Riku added, “it wouldn’t be so bad if I actually had things to do.”

Ienzo added some honey and sugar. “You don’t like being bored, do you?”

“I already think too much,” Riku said. “With nothing to work towards… I feel useless.”

“I know that feeling well.” He smiled a little despite himself. At least these were instant oats, so there wasn’t much awkward faffing around while he waited and waited for it to cook. He spooned some out for each of them and sat.

It felt a little odd, sharing a meal. Something too mundane and too human. “Thanks for cooking,” Riku said.

“Thank you for the coffee,” Ienzo said back. “Really. You don’t need to be so stiff or so polite around me.”

“Sometimes I’m not sure what else to say.”

“You don’t always have to say anything.”

“What if I want to sound smart like you guys?”

He laughed. “We’re not smart. We’re educated. There’s a difference.”

“I don’t know about that. Hearing you guys talk about--data, and principles, and heartlines, and all this other stuff… sometimes it just sounds like gibberish to me.” He chuckled. His grin was a bit lopsided, Ienzo noted. He liked the character it brought to Riku’s face, different than the obvious mask he’d been wearing. And I’m probably doing the same.

“Sometimes it is gibberish,” Ienzo said. “I swear Even likes hearing himself talk.”

“...I think you do too.”

His eyebrows shot up; it took a moment to realize he was teasing him, and even longer to come up with a response. “...Perhaps theatricality is part of my nature,” he said lamely. He wished he could stop blushing. “What of it?”

“But yet I also so don’t get you.”

He blinked. “How so?”

Riku cocked his head. “I dunno. There’s just something… I can’t put my finger on. Some people are just such open books. Like Sora. But you… I thought I understood Zexion. And when we met, I thought I got Ienzo . But now I’m not so sure.”

“May have something to do with the fact that I don’t get myself ,” Ienzo said dryly. Then, “Do you like that sort of intrigue?”

It was a rather bold statement, and it slipped out mostly by accident. He wasn’t sure why he said it, just that it felt natural in the moment. He realized this was less bantering, more… something else.

“Jury’s still out on that one, I’m afraid,” Riku replied equally.

“Then maybe I should try harder.” It was like a game, different than their earlier enmity. He almost wanted to know how far he could go, how hard he could push it. If Riku would snap at him for his impertinence. Or maybe Riku was so bored he wanted that impertinence.

Maybe Ienzo did too.

Riku flicked his eyebrows once. “Maybe you should,” he said. He stood to put his dishes in the sink. “As much fun as I’m having… I should do what I’m actually here for. Apparently I’m helping Dilan today.”

“Good luck to you.”

“Though--” He looked back. “Do you happen to have… any bobby pins I could borrow?”

---

It was odd, and confounding, to have him around more often. Running into him during or after meals. Seeing him around Dilan or Aeleus or even working on his own, his brows furrowed in concentration. Dilan reported--with something like confusion--that he was very good with his hands after all.

“I think it’s nice he’s being so helpful,” Ienzo said. “I was hoping I’d get to stop hearing you complain about having to do this work.”

“There’s so much to make habitable that it’s going to take far more than adding one to a staff of two,” Dilan said. “Perhaps if you got off your butt and did some work too.”

Ienzo rolled his eyes. “I am working. Quite hard.” On a mostly fruitless project, true. Every morning he walked into that lab and Kairi was still asleep, he felt a stab of guilt. They were wasting days of her life. But everything was coming out so-- ordinarily. Ansem insisted they had to trust that she was working with the process. But it had been nearly four months. And seeing Riku’s concern and disappointment whenever he found out no major strides had been made didn’t help.

Ienzo felt… useless. He found himself thinking more often of his days as a Nobody, when he felt like he was doing something, getting somewhere. Making discoveries.

Committing atrocities. Causing worlds to fall. Et cetera.

But this didn’t feel much like atonement either. He pulled his eyes away from the computer and looked at his hands, which to this day still looked rather naked without those black gloves. All I’ve done and I’m still here. Is there a reason for that? Or is this another of the universe’s jokes? Much like Xehanort had ascended rather than simply dying. Maybe he wanted karma, he wanted consequence, and vilification--

He looked back at the sleeping girl. He wanted to do good so badly . But he didn’t seem very “good” at that. “Excuse me,” he said to Ansem. “I need to walk for a minute. Clear my head.”

“By all means,” Ansem said, with a smile.

Ansem’s kindness made him feel guilty, too. Maybe Ienzo hadn’t been the one to usurp him, but after all, he had been the one to persuade Ansem into building that lab. Everything that happened after that was his fault. Staying busy… helped him keep on top of the memory. If he didn’t try to make up for what he did, why even have this life at all? It didn’t make sense.

But he couldn’t try to work like this.

Ienzo started walking. His eyes were hurting from all the time spent in front of screens. There had to be something he could do, something major all of them were missing--maybe he should go to the library, pull a few texts, something older than their research, a bit more mythic--

His head was starting to ache. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You--ah--okay?”

Riku startled him; he felt that jolt of accompanying panic and had to take a breath to settle himself. “Riku. I thought you were away.”

“...I just came back a few minutes ago. It turns out a self-cleaning castle doesn’t need a whole lot of babysitting.”

“I-I’m glad you’re motivated.”

“Idle hands make the devil’s work,” he said, with a trace of sarcasm. “Really, you okay?”

“I’m a bit frustrated,” he admitted. “When it comes to our work.”

“With Kairi,” he said, his face falling.

“Yes. It’s been… months, and we have… very little to show.”

“Ansem said this would be a long shot,” Riku reminded him.

“But I’d hoped for more than quite literally nothing. It makes me feel…” Why was he telling him all this?

“Let me guess. Useless?” he offered.

“Wholly and completely. I left to try and clear my head. If you’d like to talk to Even--”

“That’s alright.”

Ienzo smiled a little. “I think I just need to get out of here for a few minutes. Get coffee… or something. That is, if the weather isn’t awful.”

“It kinda always is lately, isn’t it?” Riku said, with a sigh.

“You must miss the warmth.”

He seemed to go far away for a moment. “I guess so.”

“Do you want to come with me?”

He jerked. “What?”

“On my walk? For coffee? Or…” Checking his watch. “I should probably eat…” He scowled.

Riku chuckled. “What’s that mean?”

“Right… you wouldn’t know, would you?” He shook his head. “Nobodies don’t have to eat. Or sleep, for that matter. That is to say… I’m not quite used to it. Which I’m sure sounds very strange.”

“Huh,” he said. “You know, I think I sort of get it. When I was… possessed by the seeker of darkness, I kinda felt the same.”

“Isn’t it bizarre?” Ienzo asked. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted to talk about this.

“...I guess darkness is hungry in other ways,” he said. “Though… I never fully lost my heart the way you did.”

He hummed. “Well. I’ll get my coat and boots, and then we’ll go?”

“Alright.”

---

True to form, it was snowing, fat white flakes falling from the sky. At least it wasn't so painfully cold, and Ienzo's wool coat kept him warm enough. "I guess there aren't seasons on Destiny Islands," he began, feeling the need to chat.

"I thought you'd been," Riku began cautiously.

"...No," Ienzo said.

"But your… illusion of it was so spot-on."

His heart was beating hard and fast. "That's partially due to your and Sora's memories, and partially due to the nature of Castle Oblivion," he said. "Usually I can't-- couldn't, " he corrected, "make something so intense without experience. I think that's the only reason Xemnas let me onto the field, in the end." He cleared his throat. "No, I've never been. How do noodles sound?"

"Um, fine."

They got some from a stand and sat at a table under a covered courtyard. Despite outdoor space heaters, it was still rather cold. They ate in silence for a moment.

"It does have seasons," Riku said, in a low voice. "Not like here, not the four. But… yeah. The dry season, the wet rainy season, hot, and… slightly less hot."

Ienzo chuckled. "Do you miss it?"

Riku didn't speak for a moment, and he wondered if he'd hit a nerve. "More than I thought I would," he said. "I guess… part of it is the simplicity of life, that I had. I hated it, though. The thought that I would spend my whole life confined to a handful of islands."

"...It must've felt suffocating."

"It did," he admitted. "Though now I want to go back to the way things were. ...At least until I get sick of it again."

"You have options now," Ienzo said.

"I guess so."

He picked at his food with his chopsticks. "Did you have a happy childhood there?" He asked

Riku smirked. "Why do you ask? I thought we didn't always have to say anything."

Ienzo's heart stuttered again. This game was getting deliberate, he realized. "How dare I seek to get to know you better."

"I'm just honestly surprised you're asking me that. "

"Why? Considering I spend my waking days examining old memory… I think I deserve a conversation about it."

He leaned back in his chair. His jacket pulled a bit tighter across his chest, revealing a bit of definition Ienzo definitely noticed, and he found his mouth dry and his head a bit empty. It took a moment to recover. He realized, coldly, he was ogling him with interest , and his breathing picked up a bit.

Oh no.

Riky raised an eyebrow. "Ienzo? You okay?"

He'd never felt this way. Was this supposed to be how it felt? He didn't deserve this sort of thing, he wasn't even sure he deserved friends--

He leaned back over the table. "You're breathing kind of hard. Why are you anxious?"

Ienzo felt so beautifully and so awfully seen. He wasn't used to feeling and he wasn't used to anyone recognizing what he was feeling--how could he ever be good enough--

"Ienzo. Look at me. It's okay."

He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the table.

"Was it a memory? Did you remember something?"

He shook his head again.

"Look at me," he repeated. "Look up. You're alright. It's only anxiety."

"Only," he spat. His chest was tight and he was nauseous.

"I know. Believe me, I know. It sucks. It's the worst. But it's not forever."

"This is humiliating."

"Why? It's just me. No one else is around. The weather is too shitty." He offered a smile.

"I don't want to--I'm not used to--" He couldn't think clearly.

"Breathe. Nice and deep."

He tried; it hurt. His eyes were watering. "You… you feel like this?"

"...A lot, actually."

"So many things I don't understand." He'd studied mental illness for years and he couldn't even recognize an anxiety attack that wasn't triggered by memory.

"It's okay. It doesn't usually make sense." He felt pressure and realized Riku had taken his hand and, moreover, he was squeezing it hard. Ienzo jerked his own back.

"What were you thinking about? Can you tell me?" He asked.

Ienzo swallowed. "Do you ever feel…" He shouldn't say this, he should say it was too personal, and Riku wouldn't pry. "Undeserving?"

"Of?"

"Everything, the people around you, your friends, just--having a body--"

Unflinchingly, he said, "yes. Always. But you know… I'm starting to learn that just because I did bad stuff in the past doesn't mean I have to make myself pay for it forever."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How do you realize that?" He needed the answer.

"Look, you want to be better, right? And you're working hard on that? Why punish yourself? I…" He exhaled. "That's hard for me to grasp most of the time too. But for whatever reason we're here. That has to mean something. We were given second chances. Chances to make choices."

"What kind of choice?"

"Who we'll be."

It felt like a weight was leaving him, though how or why he wasn't sure.

"No Organization. No… Ansem, or Xemnas. Just us."

"I guess so," he said wearily. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Just… forgive yourself. Move on.”

Riku laughed a little. “Well I’m not done, exactly. Not even close. I just… I don’t know. At some point suffering gets… pointless. It doesn’t help anyone. It just… wastes time.”

Ienzo blinked back the tears. “That actually makes sense.”

“I’m not going to pretend to understand everything that happened with you. But I think…” He exhaled. “Dunno. If you ever feel like you need to talk about it, you can start with me. Cause I know how much it sucks to try and do this all alone.”

Ienzo looked him in the eye at long last. He seemed to mean it, really and genuinely. “Right,” he said softly. “Right. Okay.”

“Why don’t we walk for a little while? That might help.”

“Alright.” Ienzo cleared his throat. They went to give back their empty bowls. Finally he made himself say it. “Thank you, Riku.’

He shook his head. “It’s the least I can do.”

---

Riku found himself looking forward to his time in Radiant Garden, even though the winters there were wet, cold, and generally miserable. The castle didn’t have adequate heating; this was part of his repair job, actually. They’d been using mostly fireplaces and space heaters, but it would be more effective--especially seeing the literal ice rain down from the sky--to have the central heating up and running.

Riku was used to working with Aeleus now, his quiet calm demeanor. They didn’t talk much, but this suited Riku. Sometimes, depending on how hands-on the work was, his left wrist would ache for hours. Dilan wasn’t as pleasant of a partner. And sometimes, Riku worked totally alone.

But at least if he were working here he was close to Kairi, and it was something constructive to do . It made him feel just the slightest bit less lonely, even though the ache of missing them never went away.

He dreamt of Sora often, usually nightmares of Sora lost, injured, or worse. At least with Kairi here he knew she was physically okay. (Though there were, admittedly, dreams of her turning up braindead from being asleep so long.) Sora must feel so alone, wherever he was. He was so dependent on his friends. Riku just wanted him back home, safe and sound.

Though at least he had someone to talk to, now.

Over the days and weeks that followed, through the worst of winter, he and Ienzo actually spent a good amount of time together, even if they just sat down for a cup of coffee or went for a walk. Riku guessed they were both lonely, but as their conversations evolved, he realized… he and Ienzo were actually a lot alike. Their relationships to darkness and their pasts. Their general reservedness. The dark humor.

Riku… liked spending time with Ienzo.

Every now and again he saw the other boy staring at him, his head slightly cocked, his eyes running so lightly against Riku’s arms, or his jaw. He’d first noticed the day Ienzo had that anxiety attack. And on some level, Riku knew he himself was attractive, if the behavior of the girls and some of the guys at his high school had meant anything. Even if that “attractiveness” came from unusually colored hair and symmetrical features and simply taking care of himself. At first, the notion that Ienzo might find him attractive too was terrifying.

But ever since he’d felt that first jump in his pulse, he… started to feel it, too. Ienzo’s delicate face, the gracefulness of his hands. The glint in his eye. Would it be so harmful to flirt with him? They already had several times.

Yes, said the voice in his head that sounded like Kairi. For one, it’s a huge conflict of interest. You need him to do his best work to help me , right? Which he can’t do if he’s distracted by you.

Riku felt a stab of guilt. But they weren’t getting much done anyway, he thought. Ienzo had explained the process to him a few times (it had sort of become white noise every time, even though he had tried to listen and understand, instead watching the way his lips moved and trying to keep his expression neutral), and the data they were receiving wasn’t conclusive. She might still be digging through her deeper memory. Considering she had sixteen years’ of it, this might take… a long time.

And the three of them worked more or less around the clock, too. There had been a few times when Riku went down in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, hoping to sit with Kairi for a little while, alone. Someone was usually down there--usually, in fact, it was Ienzo, or a bit more rarely Even. He saw the bags under their eyes, their pale skin, the yawns and the endless cups of coffee. It wasn’t for lack of trying.

Winter coasted to an end, and spring seemed to pass quickly, too. His hair was finally long enough to pull back without the use of pins, and he was grateful because they always fell out or slid around. As the tepid heat that passed for Radiant Garden’s summer began to bleed in, Riku realized it had been nearly nine months since Kairi was asleep.

And it hurt. Here he was, awake, alive , alone , and almost a full year had passed. Sora’s birthday in March had been agony to get through, almost like he was dead and not missing. Now he was faced with the prospect of Kairi’s.

“...Are you alright?” Ienzo asked him during their customary walk. Even though it was summer, he still wore a button-up, done all the way up to the top. At least this one had short sleeves, the muscles in his arms more pronounced than Riku might’ve thought. Books were heavy, he decided.

“I…” He trailed off.

Ienzo smiled. “Riku, we’ve talked about this,” he said in a slightly scolding tone (Riku tried to ignore the way his heart beat faster). “Lying and saying we’re fine gets us nowhere.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” he said instantly. “Look, I’m just thinking… it’s August, right? It’s… almost Kairi’s birthday.”

“Oh,” Ienzo said softly. “I didn’t know.”

“It just… makes me realize how much time has passed.” He looked away from Ienzo, back out at the cobble roads in front of them. “And I know you guys are working as hard as you can--”

“It’s been endlessly frustrating and disheartening for me to have to tell you time and again there’s no progress.”

“I know. I know. I just…” He swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat.

“You miss them.”

“They’re my best friends. And working around here helps , but I’m just so… I don’t know how much more waiting around I can do.”

Ienzo frowned. “I think of it this way, and this may help you,” he said. “Naminé was able to restore Sora’s memories in a year. He was only fifteen, and she was only one person. But there are the three of us, and Kairi, working hard on this memory dive to see if we can find any connection to Sora. I think… I just have a feeling that something might happen around that year mark. Try not to lose hope just yet.” He gave Riku’s hand one small squeeze, enough to make him nearly stumble over his words.

“I’m trying. It’s just… not easy. It feels like… it’s been so long since I was able to just be friends with them, like there hasn’t ever not been a time we were all separated looking for each other. Sometimes I wonder if it’s ever going to end.”

“I’m sure it must feel that way,” he said, a bit more gently. “But… knowing what I know about the three of you, the bonds are too strong for that separation to be final.”

“You really believe that,” Riku said dryly.

“I really do.” He lifted his chin a bit defiantly. “And seeing as I’m your source for all things scientific… you have no choice but to believe me.”

Riku chuckled.

“...Besides, if enough time passes, we can attempt to release her from her sleep,” Ienzo said. “Actually talk to her. That might be helpful.”

They’d brought this up before, briefly. “But it’s her heart that’s asleep, right? We can’t just wake it up until it’s ready.”

“A good friend of mine has a power that has something to do with that,” Ienzo said, raising an eyebrow.

He pressed a hand to his forehead.

“Did you forget?” Ienzo asked.

“I didn’t… forget . I just didn’t think it would work.”

“Well, to be fair I’m not completely sure it will,” he said. “But it’s worth trying, I think.”

Riku nodded. “Some expert you are,” he said, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Ienzo rolled his eyes.

#give/take #ienzo #riku #ienzo/riku #ienzoku

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shirtysleeves · 8 years ago

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Constellation No. 25

Few things separate more profoundly the mode of life befitting an intellectual from that of the bourgeois than the fact that the former acknowledges no alternative between work and recreation. Work that need not, to satisfy reality, first inflict on the subject all the evil that it is afterwards to inflict on others, is pleasure even in its despairing effort. Its freedom is the same as that which bourgeois society reserves exclusively for relaxation and, by this regimentation, at once revokes. Conversely, anyone who knows freedom finds all the amusements tolerated by this society unbearable, and apart from his work, which admittedly includes what the bourgeois relegate to non-working hours as ‘culture,’ has no taste for substitute pleasures. Work while you work, play while you play [in English in the original (DR)]--this is a basic rule of repressive self-discipline. The parents for whom it was a matter of prestige that their children should bring home good reports, were the least disposed to let them read too long in the evening, or make what they took to be any kind of intellectual over-exertion. Through their folly spoke the genius of their class. The doctrine inculcated since Aristotle that moderation is the virtue appropriate to reasonable people, is among other things an attempt to found so securely the socially necessary division of man into functions independent of each other, that it occurs to none of these functions to cross over to the others and remind each other of man. But one could no more imagine Nietzsche in an office, with a secretary minding the telephone in an anteroom, at his desk until five o’clock, than playing golf after the day’s work was done. Only a cunning intertwining of pleasure and work leaves real experience still open, under the pressure of society. Such experience is less and less tolerated. Even the so-called intellectual professions are being deprived, through their growing resemblance to business, of all joy. Atomization is advancing not only between men, but within each individual, between the spheres of his life. No fulfilment may be attached to work, which would otherwise leap across to the workaday world and set it on fire. While in their structure work and amusement are becoming increasingly alike, they are at the same time being divided ever more rigorously by invisible demarcation lines. Joy and mind have been expelled equally from both. In each, blank-faced seriousness and pseudo-activity hold sway.

Theodor W. Adorno, Minima Moralia. Reflections on a Damaged Life (1951), translated by E.F.N. Jephcott (1974) (London: Verso, 2005), pp. 130-131.

I cannot leave this discussion of the social aspects of American egalitarianism without mentioning the question of domestic service.

Of particular importance here, it seems to me, is the preservation of some degree of domestic service, as an institution. In the Scandinavian countries, it has virtually disappeared; and the same situation is being approached in this country. Here, again, it is a question of the golden mean. Certainly, domestic service was overdone, and the servant class was often exploited and treated in unworthy ways, in the affluent Victorian household of a century ago. And then, too, it has not been a bad thing, in our own age, that many persons of reasonable affluence have found themselves obliged to perform daily certain of the chores once consigned to the domestic servant. Some of this has proved to be usefully distracting and not unbeneficial to health, to humility, and, ultimately, to the soul.

But this, too, can be carried too far. A society wholly devoid of the very institution of domestic service is surely in some ways a deprived society, if only because this situation represents a very poor division of labor. There are people for whom service in or around the home pretty well exhausts their capabilities for contributing to the successful functioning of a society. There are others who have different and rarer capabilities; and it is simply not a rational use of their abilities that they should spend an inordinate amount of time and energy doing things that certain others could no doubt do better, and particularly where these are just about the only things the latter are capable of doing.

There is, in my opinion, no function in human society, which, if truly necessary and useful, is demeaning for anyone. There is none that does not have its dignity, particularly if performed as well as the respective worker can perform it. There is none, for this reason, the performance of which should be looked down on. This goes for domestic service as well as for anything else.

There are those, of course, who do not need domestic service, and there are others who, if they had it, would not know how to use it well. But the only person who should be deprived on principle of the very use of it is the one who would not know how to respect the dignity of the person who performs it, and who would see in the performance of it by someone else a proof of his own superiority. I repeat: the true glory of any useful occupation lies not in the seeming elevation or glamorousness of the position in question but in the integrity and conscientiousness of the effort made to meet the demands of the job. No honest and useful work, however humble, should ever be looked down upon.

I find it hard to picture a great deal of Western culture without the institutions of domestic service that supported it. I can think of none of the great writers of the past, including those who were often strapped for money, who did not have some forms of such assistance. Even the great painters of the Paris bohème of the late nineteenth century seem always to have had some sort of a helper who looked after what one French poet called “les details bas et repugnants de l’existence” for them. I cannot, somehow, picture Tocqueville combining his serene meditations with the washing of the pots and pans and the removal of trash from the kitchen premises. That this form of service sometimes involved injustice and exploitation, I admit and regret. That it needed to involve this, I deny. So I regret the passage of the institution.

George F. Kennan, Around the Cragged Hill. A Personal and Political Philosophy (New York: Norton, 1993), pp.125-126.

#Constellations #George F. Kennan #Theodor W. Adorno #Alexis de Tocqueville #Friederich Nietzsche #Domestic Service #Golf

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nettvnow-blog · 8 years ago

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All For One Has Something For Everyone

All For One is yet another Canadian web series. I’m mostly very sick of them, and most of them are bad. Luckily, this one is not. Produced by Cherrydale Productions, distributed by KindaTV, and written by Sarah Shelson and RJ Lackie (Inhuman Condition), All For One invites inevitable comparison to Kinda’s most famous property by manifesting as a queer-tinted modern-day remake of a classic literary work captured entirely by webcam. I originally planned to write this review without acknowledging that comparison, partly because doing so would be a pain in the ass, but moreso because A4O does not have the same problem with being compared to Carmilla most other web series might: it doesn’t pale in comparison. It’s not really fair to either show to say one is better than the other (A4O has one season, Carmilla has three), but for those of you who keep fandom power rankings, I’d take A4O’s first season over Carm’s, which is the only apples-to-apples comparison to be made. Inevitable comparison over with, let’s talk about the actual show now. It’s The Three Musketeers, but about sororities and super queer. You wanna know more about the plot than that, go watch the damn thing; this is a review, not a summary. Structurally, the show revolves around nominal main character Dorothy’s webcam, with her never-seen-except-as-IMs crew of internet besties (“the Inseparables”) serving as a modern day Greek chorus, chirping away in the margins. This is a very smart creative decision for a few reasons*. First, it allows the writers to manipulate tone and pace on the fly by injecting comic relief, self-awareness, and/or cheap pathos whenever the fuck they feel like it without eating up that most precious of web series resources: screentime. Second, it allows them to multi-task; one plot line may be advancing on-screen while a second plays out quietly among the Inseparables (occasionally joined by whichever lead characters aren’t appearing in a given episode). Third, it gives the writing team (Lackie/Shelson) an easy counter to one of Lackie’s writerly crutches; almost all of Lackie’s characters are prone to bouts of plot-centric myopia, and in the past his shows have allowed, if not downright enabled, them to get away it, but with an ever-present jury firing off incisive running commentary, characters are generally (and effectively) called out when they start to go down that road. Not all of them course correct, but once the issue’s been dragged into the narrative, that becomes a feature, not a bug. Speaking of writing…

*Worth noting is that many, maybe even all, of the Inseparables are characters from other shows. I only caught two of them myself, but I’m assured that there are others. One is from Carmilla, making me feel better about giving in to the cheap comparison above, and the best of the bunch is from Lackie’s older web series, Santiago. It’s likewise worth noting that neither Lackie nor Shelson has (to my knowledge) ever admitted to either of those, but I’m not an idiot and hopefully neither are you, dear reader, so let’s call a cameo a cameo and move on with the review.

A4O is an excellently written show, and not just by the admittedly low bar set by web series. I haven’t seen any of Shelson’s other work, so I can’t speak to how the partnership affects her, but what I can say is that she seems to have a knack for allowing Lackie to be Lackie (which, my own pot shots at his previous monomaniacal characters non-withstanding, is a very good thing) while subtly steering him away from his bad habits and injecting her own high-energy voice and full-auto black market machine-gun pacing. A4O does an exceptional job of serving a way over-sized cast (five main characters, at least three major supporting roles, a few off-screen-but-still-developed side characters, plus the Inseparables) in a relatively brisk three hours or so; not only does every major player in the show have an arc (or several, in some cases), even the off-screen ghosts and most of the text-only Inseparables are gifted with pathos, progression, and payoff. It’s an absolute masterclass in using every available bit of narrative real-estate to build your characters and tell your story*. *Bringing up the vampiric elephant in the room one (hopefully) last time, this is something that even Carmilla never totally figured out in its three seasons, largely punting on giving its supporting players any real meat in exchange for more time with its leads. That was probably the right play for that specific show (they were really great leads), but it’s refreshing to see a web series have its cakes and eat it too in a kitchen where most of its peers, far from either having or eating cake, accidentally added salt instead of sugar to the batter and have long-since retreated to the vomitorium. For that matter, even most twenty-minute TV sitcoms with more than five or six characters generally can’t serve them all nearly as consistently/artfully as A4O**, either. ** Footnote to a footnote! Brooklyn Nine-Nine is probably the current show that comes the closest, with seven principles, two consistently present supporting players, and a large tertiary library who usually get strong, character-driven notes to play, though of course Brooklyn has roughly quadruple the screentime to work with that A4O does.

Beyond that big-picture high-concept goodness, Lackie/Shelson also have a strong ear for banter (though both clearly watched way too much Buffy in highschool); A4O has a comedic batting average that hangs with all but the strongest of its TV brethren. They may be shorter on A+ knock-you-off-the-couch laugh grenades, but they’re firing off laugh bullets near-constantly and score at least a glancing blow with most of them. Their dramatic beats also mostly land, and they generally obey one the most oft-broken cardinal rules of good writing: thou shalt not sell-out thy characters* for either plot convenience or lazy comic beats. The writing isn’t perfect—as great as the overall pacing is, there are a couple conversations that overstay their welcome long past the point of narrative utility (occasionally to the point of undercutting what had up till then been a home-run scene), and Shelson/Lackie have never written a conversation they felt couldn’t be improved by an awkward pause or seven—but I can count on my thumbs the number of web series pilot seasons that get closer. *There’s one major exception to this, and I’ll bitch about it later when I get to the part of the review where I’m hateful jerk who ruins things I like.

Given the size of the cast, I don’t have the ink to spill to cover everybody individually, either as a character or an actor, but top-to-bottom the cast is stellar, and every single one of them should be proud of the work they did. The worst performance in the show is probably still in the B+ to A- range. Gun to my head, I’d shout out Alejandra Simmons (Alex) as the MVP of the leads and Denise Yuen (Treville) as the top dog among the supporting players, but sincerely, I’ve got nothing bad to say about the cast as a whole in twenty-nine out of thirty episodes*. *We’re almost there, pessimists. I have nothing terribly interesting to say about the direction. The cast act in front of a stationary webcam. The blocking is functional. They mostly use the setup to their advantage, cutting off scenes that work just fine implied (except as noted above). Solid, functional work that does the job, but doesn’t exactly leave you racing to the director’s IMDB. Alright, before I get into the higher-concept thematic stuff, let’s get the part where I piss all over something I really like out of the way (we all knew this was coming and when I do alone we’ll all understand why).

The show does have two major warts, and one begets the other. The first is the live episode, coming in right around the 2/3s mark of the season. It’s by far the show’s longest episode, and neither the writers nor the actors are up to the sudden formula shift, the unscripted environment, or the awkward necessity of combining what probably should have been three or four separate major sequences into one clunky stationary set-piece. One conceit of this…look, I like the cast and crew a lot here, but calling this episode anything kinder than a tire fire is being a disingenuous reviewer so… one conceit of this tire fire is that, as it aired, fans were able to masquerade as Inseparables and ask the cast live questions in-character. I’m sure it was great fun for the fans involved, but the fans involved had nothing interesting to say, and the actresses were stuck and-yessing responses without either the help of the writing staff or the freedom to really riff (as I assume the rest of the season was already pretty thoroughly structured or maybe even filmed and they couldn’t risk contradicting or redirecting anything with a careless opinion or anecdote). Oh, also, the single-set-for-twenty-minutes-and-also-they-all-need-to-get-their-turn-talking-to-the-fans setup necessitates a whole lot of contrived entering, exiting, and maneuvering that does nothing for the story and everything to remind you that you’re watching a manufactured production, and could only feel less authentic if accompanied by flashing text to the effect of “fuck your suspension of disbelief, loser.”

The episode is an amazing technical achievement in that they did it at all, but to paraphrase one of the least annoying iterations of Jeff Goldblum, they were so excited to see if they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should. While I’m sure the episode was effective as a gimmick to goose the fanbase, removed from the context of the twenty minutes where it was accomplishing that goal, it mostly just saps the narrative momentum of the show right as it was cresting, takes its actresses away from doing what they do best, and introduces the single biggest creative misstep (in this not-so-humble reviewers estimation, anyhow) of the season in Alex’s sudden, dramatic, and inorganic character shift.

…which brings us to wart number two, wherein the show’s strongest character, fed up with being the responsible one, suddenly morphs from nuanced character into a party-girl pastiche that seems more at home on MadTV than KindaTV. While the idea behind the change is a decent one (Alex lashes out against her role as “Mom”) it scans totally false for the character we’ve been given, doesn’t fit the tone of the show, and doesn’t serve much narrative purpose beyond forcing one of the other leads into the leadership role (there were better ways to get there), and letting actress Simmons show off her comic chops (which, granted, are sharp). It’s also completely devoid of the nuance and verisimilitude that otherwise permeates not only Simmons’ work but the show’s character-writing in general. In a world where every other character is consistently, painfully, beautifully themselves at their own expense, turning the best of the bunch into a cartoonish punchline for three episodes or so fucks up the emotional feng shui something fierce. I suspect the writers might even agree with me, as the gimmick is quietly dropped a few episodes later with no lasting consequences.

Now, that was a negative couple paragraphs, but let’s put it all in perspective: ultimately, A4O has one bad episode out of thirty. Show me another show with a better batting average and I’ll show you Banshee, which I’ve previously described as “the best show on television*”. *And as “The Ballad of Sheriff Punch,” though that’s neither here nor there. Beyond that, the show’s only real creative misfire happens to its best character and isn’t bad enough to keep her from staying its best character. I’m picking nits here, and I’m using some very precise tweezers and a microscope to pick them. I’m also done doing it. Onto the abstraction! One of the most incredible things about A4O is how many hats it manages to wear. It’s a comedy and a drama, sure, but it’s also a character study… scratch that, six or seven character studies. It’s also The Three Musketeers and sometimes it’s Animal House. It’s a virtuoso performance of an increasingly well-traveled formula, but thanks to its Inseparable gimmickry, it’s also the only show of its kind. It’s about persistence, and friendship, and admitting when you’re wrong, but it’s also about ambition, and narrative, and perspective, and bikini fund-raisers that end when one of the show’s stronger supporting players marches in cheerfully proclaiming “Hi. I’m here to ruin everything.” This is a show that tries to do about three-hundred* more things than any other web series out there**, and somehow feels less rushed, crowded, or inept than any of its competitors. * Estimated. I’m not a math person, I swear on my thirteenth finger. ** Well, beside Next Time On Lonny, I guess, but the whole point of that show was that it did everything. All that narrative ambition and versatility feeds back into the show’s characters, allowing them to exist in more dimensions than their screentime ought to allow. Pay attention to Yuen’s Treville, and note how much we learn about her simply from the things she owns or the way her eyes react to a certain name or an unexpected offer. I doubt she’s on-screen more than seven or eight minutes in the whole show, but she’s got more depth and nuance than anyone outside of the two leads on that apparently inescapable point of comparison*. This is something Lackie’s shown before in flashes (the bodyguard from Inhuman Condition is arguably its most interesting character and might not have ten lines), but here its displayed consistently. Almost all of the Inseparables have at least two or three layers to them, and that’s without the benefit of an performer to embody them or any capacity to meaningfully interact with the A-plot. *Last time, I swear. For the record, I do *really* like Carmilla, and it’s because I like it so much (and because it’s so much better than web series have any right to be**) that it’s such a useful measuring stick to show exactly how impressive A4O is at its best. ** I’ve previously compared its second season favorably and mostly sincerely to Shakespeare.

That’s not to say the leads are underdeveloped, either; in contrast to, say, Parks and Rec, where every character seems to exist solely to populate the Parks Department, all of A4Os feel lived in, with rich personal histories and plenty of implicit relationships and interests we don’t need to see or even hear about to take as read. Shelson & Lackie do an excellent job of letting the things they do reveal or spend time on imply a thousand more they don’t, and it’s the sort of expansive and elegant world-building you never get from web series* and rarely get from anything. *Credit where its due, Inhuman Condition was similarly economical at building its world, but not nearly as adept at bread-crumbing the personal histories of its principles. More than all that, though, at the end of the day, A4O is just fucking fun. The heroes have Sepinwall’s oft-discussed but rarely attained “I don’t even care if they’re not being funny right now, I like them and I just wanna hang out with them,” vibe, the villains are enthusiastic and memorable without succumbing to camp, and even the damn theme music is smiley. The emotional moments (mostly) feel earned and make you feel feelings, and they’re paced properly to do it without burning you out or risking diminishing returns.

Since it’s nominally a KindaTV show and I didn’t spend any time on the gender politics, I’ll awkwardly pause here to quickly note that A4O is pleasantly open-minded and inclusive. These people care about telling these stories respectfully and for as many people as possible, and it shows.

End of day, A4O is television in microcosm. It’s funny and cute and sad and angry and it’s still got time for both nerf gun duels and planted meth. It’s got close friends and bitter rivals, will-they-won’t-they’s and wish-they-wouldn’ts. It’s a pleasant place to escape to when you’re feeling shitty, and it’s a great neighborhood to show your friends around when you’re feeling good. It’s inventive and ambitious and yet familiar and comfortable. It’s great actresses (and actors) giving strong performances of sharp lines equally charged with uniquely subtle character biases and peppy Lackie-banter, all done at Shelson’s bullet-train pace that somehow never feels rushed and always gets you to exactly where you need to be. It’s fearless but rarely reckless, smart but never condescending, and sweet without ever veering into twee-town. It’s got all your favorite things from classic literature and modern television, and yet it’s something you’ve never quite seen before. It’s one of a kind, for now, and that’s a shame. Incidentally, it’s also currently fundraising to make another season. How’s that old Musketeer mantra go again? All for one and whatever amount you feel comfortable donating for All For One…

Written by Nick Feldman.

#Nick Feldman #RJ Lackie #Sarah Shelson #KindaTV #Carmilla #The Three Musketeers #The Soliloquies of Santiago #Cherrydale Productions #Denise Yuen #A4O #All For One #Gwenlyn Cumyn #AJ Simmons #Shannon Litt #Claire Gagnon-King #Angie Lopez #Linnea Currie-Roberts #Dan Mousseau #Damien Doepping

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therightnewsnetwork · 8 years ago

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The True Cost of Israel

The American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) concluded its annual conference late last month, triggering the usual debate in various alternative media outlets. Why does so much U.S. taxpayer money go to a small and not particularly useful client state that has a vibrant European-level economy and is already a regional military colossus?

Those who support the cash flow argue that Israel is threatened, most notably by Iran; they claim the assistance, which has been largely but not completely used to buy American-made weapons, is required to maintain a qualitative edge over the country’s potential enemies. Those who oppose the aid would counter that the Iranian threat is largely an Israeli and Saudi Arabian invention, used to justify continued American support for the national-security policies of both countries. And they would add that Tel Aviv is more than able to defend itself and pay for its own military establishment.

In truth, American aid to Israel is something like a pot of gold that keeps on giving. Both sides in the discussion would probably agree that the domestic Israel Lobby has been instrumental in sustaining the high level of aid, though they would undoubtedly disagree over whether that is a good or bad thing. The operation of “The Lobby,” generally regarded as the most powerful voice on foreign policy in Washington, led Professors Stephen Walt and John Mearsheimer to ask, “Why has the U.S. been willing to set aside its own security … in order to advance the interests of another state? [No] explanation can account for the remarkable level of material and diplomatic support that the U.S. provides.” They observed that “Other special interest groups have managed to skew foreign policy, but no lobby has managed to divert it as far from what the national interest would suggest, while simultaneously convincing Americans that U.S. interests and those of the other country—in this case, Israel—are essentially identical.”

Since the foundation of the state of Israel in 1948, it has been “the largest cumulative recipient of U.S. foreign assistance since World War II,” according to the Congressional Research Service. The United States has provided Israel with $233.7 billion in adjusted for inflation aid between 1948 through the end of 2012, reports Haaretz. Current discussions center on the Obama administration’s memo of understanding with Israel that promised it $38 billion in military assistance over the next 10 years, a considerable sum but nevertheless a total that is far less than what is actually received annually from the United States Treasury and from other American sources.

Senator Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.), speaking in the most recent legislative discussion over Israeli aid, stated that the $38 billion should be regarded as a floor, and that Congress should approve additional funds for Israeli defense as needed. It has, in fact, done so. At its most recent meeting, AIPAC announced the latest windfall from America, applauding “the U.S. House of Representatives for significantly bolstering its support of U.S.-Israel missile defense cooperation in the FY 2017 defense appropriations bill. The House appropriated $600.7 million for U.S.-Israel missile defense programs.” And there is a long history of such special funding for Israeli-connected projects. The Iron Dome missile-defense system was largely funded by the United States, to the tune of more than $1 billion. In the 1980s, the Israeli Lavi jet-fighter development program was funded by Washington, costing $2 billion to the U.S. taxpayer before it was terminated over technical and other problems, part of $5.45 billion in Pentagon funding of various Israeli weapons projects through 2002.

The admittedly unreliable former Congressman James Traficant once claimed that “Israel gets $15 billion per year from the American taxpayers.” Indeed, how Israel gets money from the United States is actually quite complex and not very transparent to the American public, going well beyond the check for $3.8 billion handed over at the beginning of the fiscal year on October 1. Even that check, uniquely given to aid recipient Israel as one lump sum on the first day of the year, is manipulated to produce extra revenue. It is normally immediately redeposited with the U.S. Treasury, which then, because it operates on a deficit, borrows the money to pay interest on it as the Israelis draw it down. That interest payment costs the American taxpayer an estimated $100 million more per year. Israel has also been adept at using “loan guarantees,” an issue that may have contributed to the downfall of President George H.W. Bush. The reality is that the loans, totaling $42 billion, are never repaid by Israel, meaning that the United States Treasury picks up the tab on principle and interest, a form of additional assistance. The Bush-era loan amounted to $10 billion.

Department of Defense co-production projects, preferential contracting, “scrapping” or “surplusing” of usable equipment that is then turned over to the Israel Defense Forces (IDF), as well as the forward deployment of military hardware to an Israeli-run base in Israel (used to support local military operations), are considerable benefits to Tel Aviv’s bottom line. Much of this assistance is hidden from view.

In 1992, AIPAC President James Steiner bragged how he “got almost a billion dollars in other goodies [in negotiations with Secretary of State Jim Baker] that people don’t even know about.” In September 2012, Israel’s former commander-in-chief, Gen. Gabi Ashkenazi, admitted at a conference that between 2009 and 2012 American taxpayers had paid for more of his country’s defense budget than had Israeli taxpayers. Those numbers have been disputed, but the fact remains that a considerable portion of the Israeli military spending comes from the United States. It currently is more than 20 percent of the total $16 billion budget, not counting special appropriations.

Through tax exemptions, the U.S. government also subsidizes the coordinated effort to provide additional assistance to Israel. No other lobbying effort to promote the interests of a foreign country benefits in like fashion, and, indeed, most similar groups are required to register under the Foreign Agents Registration Act of 1938, as former National Security Advisor Michael Flynn has learned to his chagrin regarding Turkey.

Most organizations and foundations that might reasonably be considered active parts of the Israel Lobby are generally registered with the Department of the Treasury as 501(c)3 tax-exempt educational foundations. Grant Smith, speaking at a conference on the U.S. and Israel on March 24, explained how the broader Israel Lobby uses this legal framework:

Key U.S. organizations include the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC), the American Jewish Committee (AJC), the Zionist Organization of America (ZOA) and the Anti-Defamation League (ADL). Hundreds more, including a small number of evangelical Christian organizations, play a role within a vast ecosystem that demands unconditional U.S. support for Israel. In the year 2012 the nonprofit wing of the Israel lobby raised $3.7 billion in revenue. They are on track to reach $6.3 billion by 2020. Collectively they employed 14,000 and claimed 350,000 volunteers.

The $3.7 billion raised in 2012 was largely tax exempt and it does not include the billions in private donations that go directly to Israel, as well as the billions in contributions that are regarded as covered by “religious exemptions” for groups that don’t file at all. There are also contributions sent straight to various Israeli-based foundations that are themselves often registered as charities. The Forward magazine investigated 3,600 Jewish tax-exempt charitable foundations in 2014 and determined that they had net assets of $26 billion, $12–14 billion in annual revenue, and “focuse[d] the largest share of [their] donor dollars on Israel.” That share amounted to 38 percent of total income. The Forward adds that it is “an apparatus that benefits massively from the U.S. federal government and many state and local governments, in the form of hundreds of millions of dollars in government grants, billions in tax-deductible donations and billions more in program fees paid for with government funds.”

Some pro-Israel foundations are in-your-face about their goals. The Friends of the Israel Defense Forces, which “Support[s] the wellbeing and education needs of Israel’s brave soldiers,” is a registered tax-exempt charity that conducts fundraisers throughout the United States. Money being fungible, some American Jews have been surprised to learn that the donations that they had presumed were going to what they regard as charitable causes in Israel have instead wound up in expanding the illegal settlements on the West Bank, an objective that they might not support. It was recently reported that Donald Trump’s son-in-law and advisor Jared Kushner has a family foundation that has made donations to Israel, including funding of West Bank settlements, which is illegal under U.S. law.

Israel also benefits in other ways, frequently due to legislative action by Congress. It enjoys free and even preferential trade status with the United States and runs a $9 billion trade surplus per annum. Its companies and parastatal organizations can, without any restrictions, bid on U.S. defense and homeland-security projects—a privilege normally only granted to NATO partners—which has given it dominance in some U.S. law-enforcement, telecommunications, and travel-security sectors. Its involvement in the development and use of classified military technologies developed by U.S. arms producers has sometimes led to claims that Israel has adopted and adapted—or even stolen—proprietary information and then used it to develop its own arms industry, which is now ranked sixth in the world by volume of sales. Ironically, U.S. taxpayers have subsidized an Israeli industry that then competes directly with American companies, producing a loss of jobs in the United States.

There has also been considerable collateral damage derived from the relationship with Israel, including the Arab Oil embargo and possibly even some blame for the ruinous cost of Iraq, which many believe to have been fought in part for Israel. But even without that war, the U.S.-Israeli bilateral relationship has been an expensive proposition for Americans. Whether Israel is a strategic liability or not, or whether its complicated geostrategic situation merits virtually unquestioning support from the United States, the reality is that it has a lopsided relationship with Washington. This has long been and continues to be largely paid for by the United States taxpayer, who is not as well off as he once was.

The U.S.-Israel relationship is yet another instance where the perceived needs of an American “ally” take precedence over genuine national interests. Tens of billions of dollars need not necessarily be spent to placate a wealthy foreign country and its powerful domestic lobby. Indeed, other options to employ the money closer to home—in the form of schools, highways, and hospitals—may become increasingly attractive to American voters.

Philip Giraldi, a former CIA officer, is executive director of the Council for the National Interest.

from http://www.therightnewsnetwork.com/the-true-cost-of-israel/

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patriotnewsblogger-blog · 8 years ago

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The True Cost of Israel

New Post has been published on http://www.therightnewsnetwork.com/the-true-cost-of-israel/

The True Cost of Israel

Philip Giraldi, a former CIA officer, is executive director of the Council for the National Interest.

http://www.therightnewsnetwork.com/the-true-cost-of-israel/ %cats%

#conservative #republican

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