#to advocate for less pay for his own writers

[harryforguccy]

James Corden’s show finishing right before WGA announced TV and Film writers are on strike......he is one lucky bastard 

[amaiguri]

Wanna see the business side of story-based games?

Me! I want to! 👋 Hi, I'm Amaiguri. I'm a full time gamedev and I've released two games before and correctly predicted how much money I would make each time! Wow!

I've been considering converting the webfic I write into a story game of some kind -- a visual novel or a RPGmaker game or maybe even a walking sim? But I didn't know what I wanted to make!

This story has been THE STORY of my early adult life here -- it is SO important to me. So, while I'm a huge advocate of making whatever you want, I wanted to ensure whatever I put my effort into would be VAGUELY marketable. (Because, lemme tell you, webnovels are not marketable XD)

Before I dive in too deeply, **BIG DISCLAIMER**:

I am not a business person. I am using big, wide guestimates to make non-essential business decisions with myself. BUT I want to share my learnings with you. So, take everything I say with a grain of salt and JOIN ME on this journey:

Earlier this month, I made a post about wanting to make a visual novel. Specifically, a kinetic visual novel where you don't make choices and you just read basically. SO I've now done research into how well they sold. I used THIS website to determine how much money each of these games made (VERY loosely):

Juniper's Knot: ~$4k USD

Higurashi (The Whole Series): ~$300k USD (Averaging like 400 reviews per game and $50 for the whole bundle)

House in Fata Morgana: ~$1 million USD

I picked these out mostly because these are the small handful of kinetic novels I have actually heard about. I'm not saying there aren't other, more successful ones I haven't heard about but I figure, if I'm supposed to be representative of my target audience, I'm as good of a sample as any for this wild estimation.

Besides, Higurashi has a whole anime -- it is definitely fair to use that as an upper end -- and Juniper's Knot -- a tiny game no one has heard of -- as the lower end. (I mean, $0 is the lower end, but... you know...)

This paints a pretty stark picture, honestly. Like, this is looking at 6 to 8 years of work for... maybe a couple thousand for me? Realistically? Maybe up to $300k if I'm super lucky and go viral? And I'm not saying that isn't LIFE CHANGING money but like in the MOST MIRACULOUS scenario here, I am compensated less than my current salary for my current magnum opus. But realistically, I'm looking at maybe $1-4k if I get lucky. I'm not a horror-writer and I'm not a romance writer -- I will not have THAT feral of a fanbase XD And on top of all of that, I don't even play that many kinetic visual novels. I'm barely in my own target demo here!

Now, compare that to the numbers I ran on RPGmaker games where you just do narrative and there is very minimal gameplay:

Rakuen: 4000+ Reviews, over $100k in profits estimated

To the Moon: $8 Million in profit

A Bird Story: Definitely sold worse than To the Moon, was cheaper to make and cheaper to buy -- estimated at $397k

Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea: Dunno cuz it's free BUT its manga adaptation has 267 reviews on Amazon -- so the creator COULD have made bank on the actual game

See how much higher those are? Even when they're not as well known? And sure, the bottom is still $0 ultimately but the upper limit, with the most successful of these titles (and incidentally, the video game that convinced me to get into Game Design) is much much higher.

"BUT BELLE! Laura Shigihara did the music on a lot of those! You don't have Laura Shigihara!"

Ok BET! I'll hire her! The base industry rate for music per minute is $100/min. Let's suppose now she charge 10x that, cuz she's famous -- $1k/minute of music. I get her to compose a 3 minute song for $3k BUT she also brings over... say... 5% of her audience to check out my game.

That's admittedly, a high conversion rate so we'll just take 5% of Rakuen. Now, I'm imagining I'd charge like $25/copy of my game because it's gonna be like 300k words -- people pay $25 for a book of that length, so if I have art and programming also, I can do that. With just her 5% of Rakuen reviewers (21 reviewers of her 4.3k), that's like $7k USD. So, she'd probably just pay for herself and then some.

And to top all this off: I'm back in the target demo. I am ABSOLUTELY the kind of person who will play a solodev's RPGmaker game and forgive all jank and flaws and lack of gameplay if the story, art, and music are good.

That is, of course, making the assumption that I'll make good music and art 🥺🥺🥺

Now obviously, all this is WILD guestimates so like. You shouldn't make business decisions off this. I'm barely making "business" decisions -- I'm making hobby decisions. I have a full time job and I intend to keep it. BUT I think it's pretty clear where the potential money might be for me -- RPGmaker games.

Eris (Blinking): Thank you for reading!

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

@brucewaynehater101 ‘s tags, kindred spirit on this topic

I so want these stories.

I want those comic runs of Clark working on a story with his wife, lovingly crafting a story that helps the people of his city. Bantering with his coworkers in the break room, trying to coach his son on English assignments and essays he doesn’t like writing because he inherited his moms horrible spelling but neither of his parents love for the craft, calling his ma to see how she’s faring on the farm without pa after his heart attack.

Bruce in a board meeting with the directors of Arkham Asylum threatening to pull his funding (that is desperately needed bc no one thinks they run things well and he’s their only big supporter) if they don’t modernize and get up to code on treatments, because he does what he does as Batman and Bruce Wayne to help the people of his city. Especially if Arkham is the only mental health facility and normal people who just typical mood disorders or depression are betting herded into rooms that have the Joker and Zassaz as occupants and the guards aren’t stepping in to stop attacks on them in time, maybe asking J’onn to go in as a surprise investigator or patient to report on the treatment so Bruce can make sure they’re doing what he asked. Bruce being there as a fellow friend to Oswald in his attempt to run his Lounge legitimately, paying for the procedures and help Harvey needs to help with his DID and help fix his scarring like in BtAS because he cares so deeply for his friend. Bruce civilly co-parenting with Talia and having a nice time as what feels like a proper family with his son and ex-wife+love of his life, feeling normal and happy and content for the day they spend as a family before they both go back to their lives separated. Bruce just making sure his home and family gets better and the people he cares for are taken care of in every way he can manage.

Diana spending hours at night piecing together fragments of old stone scripts and pottery, finding sources more substantial than her own understanding of a nearly dead language to share the knowledge she understood in passing to everyone else. Spending the rest of the nights hours reviewing diplomatic related paperwork and taking notes to focus on in later meetings with other officials. Maybe taking more energized days to help with tour groups and happily answering visitors questions about the windows into the ancient world she’s helped open up, having nice conversations with her coworkers about their own findings and research avenues. Obviously being a strong advocate for peoples rights of all sexes, genders, races and creeds and hearing nothing against the belief that everyone deserved to be treated as a person, being both to big a name and too strong a voice too ignore and also too indestructible to do away with and ask to be replaced by a more lenient diplomat by Themiscyra. Diana in both forms just being a shining beacon of support for the people beside her that encourages their passions for discovery and a speaker for those put down as Princess Diana, being everything she and her people stand for in both forms.

And there’s just so many characters where I wish we saw more of the face behind the mask without it being completely tied to the cape or cowl they wear.

There’s so many teenage heroes that could do with the drama typical of their age group, like Firestorm with both people (student and teacher) who make him up with the stress of an upcoming exam or test where they work together to get the younger of the two caught up. Heroes trying to find themselves and get an idea of what they want to do with their lives once high school is over or as they’re dealing with the pressure of applying for college, trying to find and separate their shared identities and dealing with that rolling personal crisis with more focus on the mask-less side of it all.

There is a lot to explore on the other side of the double lives these characters live, but writers seem intent on keeping us in their work hours and only leaving to prop up the later scenarios

It would be nice to read a Superman comic that’s more Clark than Kal.

It would be nice to read a Batman comic where Bruce does more good as himself for the issues than as Batman.

It would be nice to see Diana in one of her many jobs like a museum curator bringing beautiful pieces of history to light for people to marvel at or as a diplomat.

It would be nice to see Barry solving crimes with his forensic science without bolting off between every discovery to handle things as Flash.

It would be wonderful to read a story about these awesome heroes that was focused on what good their other identities do, with their heroic personas as background instead of the other way around. I hardly hear of stories that last more than a few issues or an arch that gives us a nice long look into their civilian lives, if anyone knows any longer arcs like this I’d love to read them.

[brotheralyosha]

Every Republican national leader since 9/11 had backed the harshest possible prosecution of the War on Terror. Even Mitt Romney pledged to double Guantanamo. Those relatively few prominent Republicans who did object to the war, like senators Rand Paul and Mike Lee, did so on the respectable grounds that it was costing America freedom and wealth. They were openly disdained by the ascendant McCains of the party. Rand Paul’s father, Ron, sought the presidency on an antiwar platform, but he was even more marginal, despite an enthusiastic following on the far right.

Handling the party’s nativists was a more delicate proposition for GOP leaders. Romney and McCain, uncomfortable fits in nativist circles, compensated by advocating “self-deportation” for undocumented immigrants or releasing “complete the danged fence” ads, to say nothing of proposing that the nativist Sarah Palin should be a heartbeat from the presidency. No Republican since 9/11 had been able to combine nativism with antipathy to the futility of the War on Terror and seize control of the party. It occurred to few to try. Then, in June 2015, Donald Trump descended his escalator at Trump Tower.

In his infamous announcement speech, the one claiming Mexicans were rapists and criminals invading a supine America, Trump demonstrated just how effortlessly 9/11 politics amplified nativism. His great insight was that the jingoistic politics of the War on Terror did not have to be tied to the War on Terror itself. That enabled him to tell a tale of lost greatness: “We don’t win anymore.” Trump was able to safely voice the reality of the war by articulating what about it most offended right-wing exceptionalists: humiliation.

It was a heretical sentiment to hear from someone seeking the GOP nomination. Every major Republican figure had spent the past 15 years explaining away the failures of the war or insisting that it was a noble endeavor. Trump called it dumb. His America was suffering unacceptable civilizational insults. “We have nothing” to show for the war, he said, and certainly not the spoils of war that Trump believed were due America. “Islamic terrorism” had seized “the oil that, when we left Iraq, I said we should have taken.” The war was a glitch in the matrix of American exceptionalism, and Trump offered a reboot.

But except for the Afghanistan war, which he considered particularly stupid, Trump was no abolitionist. “I want to have the strongest military we’ve ever had, and we need it now more than ever,” he stated. He threatened to sink Iranian boat swarms, even as Iran was aligned with the United States against ISIS in Iraq, engaged in the ground combat Obama desperately sought to avoid. Then there was ISIS, at home as well as abroad. Trump pointed specifically to ISIS’s spoils: the 2,300 Humvees they drove out of Mosul. “The enemy took them,” he complained, pledging that “nobody would be tougher on ISIS than Donald Trump.” His latest position on Iraq was that it was dumb to get in, dumb to get out, and now the United States had to win, whatever that ultimately meant.

Trump’s incoherence was less important than what it revealed: a disgust at waging the war on its familiar terms, along with an enthusiasm for voicing its civilizational subtext. The same weakness that made the War on Terror a no-win situation had also yielded the current wave of Central American migration. Trump promised to crash the wave against a giant wall on the southern border for which he would make Mexico pay. The socialist writer and critic Daniel Denvir observed that Trump’s pledge to extort Mexico’s wealth for the wall was effectively a demand for imperial tribute. The analysis applies equally to his claim on Iraq’s oil.

. . .

Fifteen years of brutality as background noise made it easy for many to misinterpret Trump’s position on the War on Terror. Journalists listened to his invective against it and called him antiwar, as if he had not been promising to “bomb the shit” out of millions of people. “Donald the Dove,” Maureen Dowd of The New York Times wrote, “in most cases . . . would rather do the art of the deal than shock and awe.” Such attitudes revealed what elites chose to believe about Trump and what they opted to consider merely an act for the rubes. What they overlooked by focusing on Trump’s criticisms of the ground wars was that he wanted to expand the War on Terror to frontiers it had yet to reach. Most important, they heard Trump describe the enemy as Radical Islamic Terror. For 15 years, nativists, stoked by Fox News, had considered such a definition a prerequisite for winning the war. Elites had never understood why the right was so spun up about the phrase. Trump knew that “Radical Islamic Terror” extracted the precious nativist metal from the husk of the Forever War.

None of this was tolerable to the Security State and its allies. Sean MacFarland, a David Petraeus-favored officer during the Iraq occupation who now commanded the war against ISIS, rejected indiscriminate bombing as “what the Russians have been accused of doing in parts of northwest Syria.” Dozens of Republican-aligned security luminaries signed open letters refusing to serve in a Trump administration, birthing the Never Trump Beltway movement. But the architects, contractors, and validators of the War on Terror were placed in awkward positions. One of the letters decried Trump’s “expansive” embrace of torture, since their own embrace of “enhanced interrogation” foreclosed on a more categorical rejection. Former NSA and CIA Director Mike Hayden, who had lied so extensively about torture that the Senate compiled his falsehoods into a separate annex of the torture report, who secretly constructed a surveillance dragnet around the United States while imploring Congress to set the balance between liberty and security, characterized Trump as “unwilling or unable to separate truth from falsehood.” Nor was there any self-reflection from signatories like Iraq occupation chief Bob Blackwill, who took over as Bush’s personal envoy after Paul Bremer, and who had asserted against “the professional pessimists within parts of the U.S. intelligence community” that “2005 will be a good year in Iraq for President Bush.” None of them seemed to understand that they had created the context for Trump. He was about to show them.

[theseventhoffrostfall]

OK listen Zaeed was great and I won't defend ME that much but come on Mordin was pretty fucking good and the idea of forced sterilization of a hostile race vs letting them breed with the risk that in the future they might get even WORSE is at least an interesting sort of ethical dilemma. Although now that I think about it they simply could have kept a 100% genophage virus in a lab with a big sign that said "IN CASE THE KROGANS GO INSANE AGAIN USE THIS"

But also Wrex had a pretty good arc of basically being this hotheaded savage who now had to rise above that and become an advocate for his people.

Granted, so there were three, maybe another floating in there somewhere, genuinely big-scale sci-fi stories mixed in among the cliche personal drama. you can stretch to include Garrus’. It’s vaguely funny but not at all surprising that the best/highest-effort writing is concentrated in all the characters that weren’t designed to be conventionally fuckable.

The Genophage thing does lead me to another rant, though, in how that game handles its morality system. In a story that’s actually focused on moral quandaries (like Star Trek at its best, though Star Trek itself would come down hard on the ‘genophage bad’ side of things if for no other reason than the writers would probably be aware that the Krogans aren’t a threat if they don’t magically have tons of ships to spread and colonize with. Why sabotaging their ports and shipyards wasn’t option A and the genophage option like Q I’m still not sure, but yeah, let’s roll with genophage dichotomy for the sake of discussion) you’d have much less judgement on the part of the narrative itself. It would be Shepard speaking from his perspective, knowing that Mordin has his own (especially considering his initial stance, one of deep regret but wholeheartedly believing his actions were necessary) and the game ultimately wouldn’t tell you what’s right or wrong. 

Except the game consistently tells you what’s meant to be right or wrong. There’s a “good” button and a “bad” button at every decision, and the “good” option not only quite consistently leads to better outcomes for the stories, but by the time of ME3 having been the good guy leaves you with a ton of resources at your disposal and better/easier resolutions to the new quests (sometimes it makes sense, sometimes it’s contrived because you dared to press the red button at one point and now your friend has no influence and factions fight and die at the whims of megalomaniac assholes) because this is a universe where platitudinous emotions rule everything and the One Great Man theory of history is objective fact. They pay lip service in 3 to the “brutal calculus of war” but it’s never borne out--being the blue man good guy is never not simply the smarter option

Which brings me to my final ramble, that good-bad/blue-red choices in dialogue to convince people are only ever emotional. It’s either an appeal to happy hand-holding-and-hugging better nature or a cringy intimidate-everyone-into-getting-your-way style of argument. A very basic thing they teach you in high school is “ethos, pathos, logos”, where you can argue from emotion, argue from your own credibility/credentials/trustworthiness, or argue from logic (how sound this logic is is irrelevant, it’s about the approach of convincing someone to fall in line because they’re convinced it’s the smart choice). This doesn’t scratch the surface of actual rhetorical techniques, but it’s a very basic starting point. I mention this because ME doesn’t even reach that high

Mass Effect is about 98% emotion, with a weird mix of ethos introduced mechanically in that you can only make certain appeals at all if you have a certain reputation, except those appeals are still generally emotional. Again, it’s basically all pleas to better angels or brute intimidation. At basically no point do you ever sit down and try to reason with people or reach a rational conclusion. In fact, the few times it does come up, the game equates it with being the red/bad/mr. evil guy-- you’re being a “cold, merciless, results-at-any-cost” bastard and there’s no way you could actually want to logically reach a solution that works best for everyone. 

This extends all the way down to your crew in ME2--every time you’re meeting a crewmember and are given the choice of either being casual and personable and telling them to ignore ranks, or to be standoffish and encourage professionalism, the former is the good-guy option and is presented almost like you’re an adult who’s squatting down to talk with a child on his level, and the latter is presented like you’re a sneering jerk rubbing your rank in everyone’s face

[gofancyninjaworld]

watching ONE write women

One of the joys of following a writer for a while is that you get to follow how their ideas develop.   One of the things that ONE brought up in an interview (annoyingly I’ve lost the link) was that he didn’t think that he wrote women particularly well. 

I was thinking about that.  When ONE says that, what comes across to me is that he has no problem writing a female character as an individual rather than a role.  All the girls and women he’s written so far have their own voices, own their problems, and have something to do within the story that would be noticeable if they weren’t there.  Quite frankly, that alone is over and above what various tests of representation (such as the Bechdel test) ask for.  

What he’s not so good at is appreciating what being female brings to a character’s experiences and outlook.  But he’s not just left it at that.  More on what he’s been doing in a bit (and under the cut).

“...the law forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges...” -- Anatole France

With his sharp eye and talent for exploring the implications of whatever he posits, ONE has brought up some issues are not inherently gendered, but usually are. 

A: Childcare

Metal Bat appears to be the main, if not sole, carer for Zenko.  How it affects him is fascinating.  He’s one of the longest-serving heroes in the Hero Association, being there before Class S was formed, literally within the first six months of its establishment.  He’s been extremely loyal and is highly trusted by the HA -- they put Narinki’s life into his hands without fear.  His battle strength is literally praised to the heavens.

Metal Bat makes Zenko a priority, structuring his availability around her school schedule and being present in her life. He gets very angry if these times are threatened without overwhelmingly good cause.  His reward is to be perceived by the Hero Association as less committed and so they under-recognise him in terms of ranking, and since rank and pay are linked, under-pay him as well.  It’s a story all too many women can relate to.  But that’s not all.

Because ONE writes so simply yet conscientiously, something else comes up and has a peek: intersectionality. It’s the concept that we often have multiple social disadvantages that interact and compound our problems.  The first is sexism.  Regardless of whatever childcare policy the HA has, the sexist assumption that only women care (for the record: this is bullshit) makes it unlikely for them to ask Metal Bat.  Second, social capital. The fact that he’s Zenko’s sole carer means that he has low social capital, that informal network of people around you who can help out -- or tell you where to find help and what things to say in order to get that help. [Aside: this is why programmes to help people, unless they reach out aggressively, tend to disproportionately attract those who need it least.]  Metal Bat doesn’t have the knowledge.  The third is the challenge brought by his being a 17-year old boy.  He’s quick to perceive challenge as threat, and threat as something to be met by anger.  Witness him threatening to smash the HA headquarters if it turns out that he’s missed Zenko’s piano recital for nothing -- completely not useful to anything. [Another aside: the importance of learning to disambiguate emotions and do useful things with them even if it means being vulnerable as a part of growing up as a man is the whole point of Mob Psycho 100.]

What do the Neo Heroes do?  They ask Metal Bat if he wants help with childcare AND HE JUMPS SHIP PRONTO.  If that’s not an indictment of the Hero Association, I don’t know what is.

B: Emotional Labour

Saitama has been delegating more and more of the day-to-day work to Genos.  What started as an act of service to express his gratitude, respect and love for Saitama is increasingly turning into a second job for Genos.  It’s not just the cooking and cleaning and the shopping and the bailing Saitama out if he’s forgotten his wallet again, it’s also the worrying about Saitama, sometimes at inappropriate times.  Has he drunk enough water?  Has he clean clothes in good repair? What sales is he looking forward to? Have they been marked on the calendar?  It’s honestly not doing Genos any good, and it’s one of those things all too many frustrated wives and girlfriends can relate to.  This doing the practical and emotional work for another is not intrinsically gendered, but funny how often it breaks that way.

It’s not doing Saitama any good either.  He’s using this freed up time to fritter his life ever more aggressively away, playing games with King and finding pointless competitions to enter, all while complaining about feeling less and less connected to anything (if you don’t address the problem, it doesn’t get better, duh!).  Worse, he’s started to take that gift of service for granted, witness him airily telling King how he’ll just have Genos go clear up the mess of monsters he’s left outside the flat.  I was heartened to see what happened when Saitama went a little too far and asked Genos to go cook and instead of jumping up, Genos gave him the the evil eye and let the awkwardness hang there.  That was good -- there’s hope for this guy yet.

Speaking of Genos, he also over-functions for something else Saitama struggles with: advocating for himself.  He tends to have Genos be the ugly one so he doesn’t have to be.   You can see just how bad he is at self-advocacy when Forte and friends could invite themselves into Saitama’s house at will despite his protests -- and it stopped the instant Genos showed up.

In a sense, it’s not surprising that Genos can do that. When you’re differently-abled (and for once, this is not a euphemism) as he is, being able to clearly ask for what you want and need is life-and-death necessary. If Genos was shy about it, he’s long since had to discard that.  But!  Let me point to a nuance the story touches on.  How pushy you can be without being punished for it depends a lot on who you are, intersecting strongly with race, gender, social status, etc (remember my mentioning intersectionality before). What’s called assertive in a man is called bitchy or sharp-elbowed in a woman.  Even taking gender and race out of the equation, there’s still a noticeable difference in the way the world treats Saitama and Genos.  You don’t need to be Sigmund Freud to understand the way the short, ugly Dr. Kuseno sweats making sure that Genos positively radiates youth, beauty, wealth and power. That’s part of his right to ask and be taken seriously.  You can see how drastically different it is for Saitama, even from his middle school days.  Genos notices, and makes sure to leverage his social power for Saitama. 

What I love about these examples are that by not automatically heaving a woman into these characters’ roles, ONE’s brought a less frequently seen angle that illustrates the problems they deal with are not ‘womens’ issues per se but are rather inequities that disproportionately affect women -- which is at the heart of what feminists keep saying.  When you read Makai no Ossan, you can appreciate that ONE could have gone with female characters and done a great job, but his choosing not to has brought a very welcome dimension to the story.

Women proper

“I’m not like other girls”

Still, bit by bit, ONE has been working more women into his stories.  After his interview, the next thing he worked on was the single-volume sequel to Mob Psycho 100,  Reigen.  He took his challenge head-on by making the POV character Tome and putting her in an all-girls’ high school.

Throughout the story, we see Tome thinking of herself as special, better than her fellow classmates, whom she sees as vapid and shallow.  The denouement comes with Tome being humbled as she gets to know her classmates better and realises that  they pursue interests just as varied and weird as hers -- only they’re also practicing being socially adept on top of that.

It’s a gentle story, but it’s still a great side-swipe at self-internalised misogyny, the idea that it’s shameful to be like a ‘girl’ and it’s something to distance oneself from.   Fortunately, Tome can laugh at herself and grow up.

“Ha ha ha”

For a long time, the only (named) women we had in OPM were Tatsumaki and her younger sister Fubuki.   We’ve gotten more women both good and bad: in particular, it’s been very gratifying to find that one of the most dangerous, story-shaping villains in the story is Psykos.

In the webcomic, ONE’s pushed even further.  A recent Tweet featured him talking about how hard he finds it to draw women. And he’s added several.   No same-face for him!    I’ll talk about the new heroines he’s added, but first, let me draw your attentions to something most artists don’t realize they do: massively skew the gender distribution of crowds, even when it is incredibly illogical to do so.   With ONE, even drawing the crowds at the fair who gaggle at Amai Mask, he’s got a far more even balance of women and they’re not all young and pretty -- which is much more true-to-life.  He’s in the business of drawing people.

ONE has featured microaggressions before, particularly in the way Fubuki can have perfectly sound things to say and be totally ignored,  but he brings it properly to the fore with Suiko.  No one calls her incompetent, but the little put downs she gets when she puts herself forward for the hero test in lieu of her brother, oh they’re well-observed The look on her face just makes it.  I love the way she shut the recruiters up subsequently. 

  Let’s conclude this tour with a look at Webigaza’s lonely figure.  We have another mono-manically focused cyborg in the story.  Genos has been called a lot of things -- determined, obsessive even, but crazy? Never. Notice who it’s been reserved for instead.  It’s no slip of the tongue.

Wrapping Up

I’m of the impression that ONE really wants to try to capture as much of the human experience as he can in his stories, however whimsical or fantastical the stories themselves are.  I’m disarmed by his humility in accepting that he’ll never have the lived experience of half the world’s population but he sure as hell can put some effort into learning how to to writing well-realised, believable, female characters.  

I watch ONE’s continued development as a writer with interest.    

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

whumptober

12 October: grief

Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent

"Could you tell me what happened?" Bruce asked.

Clark paused to consider the question, or, rather, the shape of it. In the kitchen at the lake house, steel and black marble surfaces dimly glittered from the glow of a single lamp on the windowsill. He didn't need light to see by, but he found himself almost desperately curious to parse Bruce's inquiry and, in the effort, to watch Bruce for some further clue. 'Could' had been proffered. The chosen form wasn't an order. Bruce's posture spoke of ease, as though he asked nothing tasking from the barstool opposite the one Clark sat in. What did Bruce assume he'd say; what would be the subsequent result for any given response?

Clark was rarely bothered by inclement weather. The hollow feeling in his chest was not caused by the extant temperature of the room.

“I understand Diana's the one who's concerned," he said, "and it's on me to reassure her--"

"We're all concerned." Bruce held up a hand before Clark could protest. "We know Circe didn't hurt you physically, other than throwing you into animated suspension for a few minutes to keep you busy. We don't think your ability to do your job has been compromised. We're not." He stopped and looked at Clark. "We are not worried about that." 

It seemed to Clark that Bruce struggled, just a little, on the word 'we'.  

"Circe showed me something," Clark said, feeling some part of himself begin to slip out of kilter, as if he were sinking beneath a sheet of ice, paralyzed. "Not a dream, nor a hallucination." He cleared his throat. "Or I don't think it was." 

Two heartbeats silenced, blackened agony gaping in him wide and infinite. 

Bruce had gone motionless, watching Clark with dismay plain in his expression. Bruce hated missing things, Clark knew; he would hold himself personally responsible if something had harmed Clark and he hadn't even known to try to prevent it.

Clark didn't have the energy to bear the way Bruce was looking at him, not with having slept at most no more than an hour or two at a stretch for going on two weeks. Easily remedied. He closed his eyes. 

"What she showed me, I." The words stuck. He pried and a few more came loose. "There's another universe, or timeline -- another Earth with another us." Clark took a shallow breath; an echo of pain cracked against his sternum. "And in it, I'm everything you've ever feared I could become."

He squeezed his eyes shut more tightly. His fingertips dug into his palms. 

"Whatever you think you were shown, you're not him." Bruce spoke at a pace so steady it had to be deliberate. "Clark," he said, his voice just a little sharper on the name. "You must know that." 

"It doesn't make the people he's killed less dead." Clark wanted to spit the words out like blood, but instead he'd barely raised his voice. He knew Bruce would hear anyway.

"And that's what you've been grieving," Bruce said. "That other world." 

Clark shook his head. He finally opened his eyes, to Bruce waiting with as much patience as Clark had ever witnessed from him. 

"It should be, I guess. Those victims deserve to be mourned." Clark uncurled his fingers, kept his stare on the furrows in his palms. His lungs were filled to drowning. Saltwater stung the back of his throat, his eyes. "The other me. He loses his family. It… Everything he does afterwards is because they die at his hands, or that's his excuse, anyway." 

He could feel, at the furthest edge of his senses, the way Bruce was counting his own breaths to keep from interrupting, how intensely he was listening. Clark knew it should have been a comfort, but there were all these words left, a chain of them winding around his chest in a vise as crushing as Circe's magic had ever hoped to be. 

Because Bruce was being kind and because he was his best friend, Clark managed to say, "I keeping thinking about how when I was a kid, I was scared of everything. Of being found out, of what people might do to me. Of hurting someone accidentally." Words like ropes, like rusted nails, like knives that would flay humans with the lightest pressure. "Maybe most of all, I was scared I would never have a family of my own." 

He was almost out of air. He inhaled shakily. Too late to quit. 

"I knew my parents loved me; I knew Lana and Pete loved me. The idea that I'd never find anybody to share my life with -- it was sorta more terrible than I could even let myself think about." He gave a small laugh. His cheeks were wet, and Bruce's eyes were too dark to look into. "But for all that, I never thought. I never thought it might be better if I didn't find...if it really was dangerous for people to be with me…"

As a writer, Clark weighed words constantly and therefore understood their limitations. Sometimes, however, they were all that was left of the truth. "I'm a weapon," he said, the words tumbling out like flat stones he wouldn't be able to budge once they landed. He'd closed his eyes again. "I'm not supposed to be someone's home." 

There was a noise only Clark's abilities would've caught, as though a thin blade had been cleanly slid into the most vulnerable point beneath a ribcage. He didn't catch up quickly enough to realize he himself wasn't the one who'd made the sound before Bruce said, "You haven't eaten much recently."

Clark blinked. "What?"

Bruce's expression had changed to open, neutral, downright placid. "Food, Clark."

"Ah. No. I haven't been hungry." Clark shifted on the barstool. He blinked again, wiped his face, clasped his hands together. Some strange veiled heaviness had been lifted from his peripheral vision, from his shoulders and hips. 

Bruce was stretching his legs and standing up, headed a few feet to the large refrigerator. "I should call your fretful mother and tell her you're wasting away."

"Don't. Guilt tripping me by invoking my mom is dirty pool." Was this what whiplash felt like? Clark wondered. He couldn't remember. "You don't have patrol tonight?"

"It's raining," Bruce said, like something as common in Gotham as rain was a well-known Batman deterrent.

Clark hadn't noticed the water sheeting down the windows, nor the insistent drum of a downpour on the roof; probably not the best sign of mental stability. "Pizza'd be all right, if ChowWagon will deliver out this far."

"They would. I'm Bruce Wayne," Bruce said with the flair he usually reserved for taking the piss with reporters who weren't Clark. He tugged open the bottom freezer drawer and removed a large disc. "But we already have pizza."

"Convenient. Alfred?"

"Hn. I can forage for sustenance all on my own." Bruce poked at the oven display. "I can even toss a crust and slow-simmer a red sauce." He picked at an edge of plastic wrap until he figured out how to unwrap the pizza and made a cagey face at Clark for a second. "Don't suppose you'd care to share who other-you was married to."

Clark suppressed a groan. He sighed and said, "Lois. You absolutely cannot mention it to her, ever."

Bruce quirked up an eyebrow. "Noted."

"It's not-- She's great." Clark winced. Well, she was. She was one of his smartest, scariest friends. He hadn't been anguished specifically about her counterpart's death in another reality, or even the thought of her and a child they might have together dying because of him. His grief, he'd discovered, was less bound to them, there, and more rooted in his own terror in this world. "I'm keeping this info in my arsenal, for future occasions where she's so mad at me she's about to kill me."

Bruce's other eyebrow appeared to have an opinion on the matter.

"I'm counting on being able to make her laugh hard enough to forget why she's about to kill me," Clark said.

"Good plan." As Bruce placed the twelve inch pie on the middle rack, he said, all mildness, "You know why your conclusion that 'Being alone forever is best' is bullshit."

It didn't seem like the kind of not-question he needed Clark to answer. 

"First," Bruce said, "to merely temporarily remove you from action, a powerful sorceress tortured you for one hundred and eighty-nine seconds with visions of another universe the existence of which you cannot possibly be expected to either confirm or ameliorate. Second, whoever you saw in those visions who looked like you isn't you. Worth repeating. Third, you are not responsible for him." 

Clark didn't quite believe him, and didn't quite trust Bruce believed such logic either. But Clark could let him finish his lecture. Bruce had opened the long fridge door and taken out two beers in bottles. He gave one to Clark, pausing for a second as if making sure Clark was paying attention. He sat back on his barstool, and Clark clutched at the cold glass with both hands.

"Fourth. There aren't any guarantees about what may or may not happen to anyone who becomes part of your family," Bruce said, like it wasn't the biggest understatement he could utter. "You meet people every day who've suffered the worst, most unimaginable tragedies, sometimes of their own doing, and they take that pain and loss and accomplish astonishing things with it. They found non-profits and fund scholarships, serve their sentences, advocate for victims' rights or new legislation. They get better. They live to honor their loved ones. Most people, in mourning or otherwise, don't become homicidal despots. You're not as strong as them?" He took a drink of beer in a manner that Clark would describe as almost smug.

Clark thought about both pinching and hugging him. The heaviness in his shoulders had come back. He was hunched forward, trying to breathe against it. He wasn't sure he was even strong enough to keep having this one conversation.

When Bruce spoke again, there was no trace of arrogance in his tone. "What are we up to, fifth? Fifth, not to be mean about who you were as a kid, but." He tapped his fingernail against his bottle. His thoughts on Kansas farm life and Clark's once-upon-a-time place therein had been the source of delicate ribbing as long as they'd known each other's real identities. 

Bruce gave a rueful head tilt. "You missed a key element of the bigger picture when you were younger and you're doing it now, and not just because of course you, you specifically, are supposed to have a family." His voice sounded a little odd. But then he went on, turning so that he was looking out the window. "One person isn't really a family." More softly, he said, "If you decide to keep everyone away, it also means you're keeping out someone who might want to be your home."

Clark's hands seemed too stiff. He put the beer on the counter to keep from shattering the bottle and opened his hands, feeling the cold lift away from them. When he looked at Bruce's profile, he saw him exhale very, very slowly, as though he were lowering to the ground something immense but easily fractured. Clark heard the rain on the metal roof of a barn seventeen miles away and the ticking the oven made as it came up to full temperature. He waited until Bruce looked over at him again. He sat perfectly still and held his gaze as gently as he could. The minutes passed between them, quiet, shadowed, and warm, until Clark was able to find a place to start whatever was to come next.

"What's on the pizza?" he asked eventually, not bothering to be embarrassed at the roughness in his voice.

Bruce smiled small at the corner of his mouth. "Mushrooms, tomatoes, green olives. Asiago with extra mozzarella." 

An order in a greasy pizzeria years ago, the two of them battle-wearied and starving at three a.m. One of the first times, perhaps, Clark had sat across from Bruce and thought of him as anything more than a teammate. 

"My favorite," Clark said, reaching for Bruce's wrist.

"I know," Bruce said, letting him.

[magicofthepen]

For the character thingy, romana and leela?? ❤

ROMANA - I’m going to answer for Romana I, since I already did Romana II!

favorite thing about them: so I fell in love with Romana I instantly when I watched The Ribos Operation. I was like “wait no one told me that Romana’s basically a recent graduate who always thrived in school but has now suddenly been thrust into the Real World and is a bit of a mess” and oh my god why is she so relatable, also I love that about her. I love that she doesn’t quite know what she’s doing, and her academic brilliance doesn’t necessarily help in the situations she’s finding herself in, but she keeps trying and learning, so by the end of season 16 she’s much more confident and capable on her own than she was when she started. I just absolutely adore the premise of her character and how she develops during the key to time quest. also her banter skills are so excellent. (….this wasn’t one thing whoops. 😄)

least favorite thing about them: I feel like it’s something about how she’s portrayed in the Gallifrey audios, but I can’t quite articulate what? but I feel like somehow, some of the things I really liked about her on TV (her witty fun banter, her determination even when she’s out of her depth) aren’t represented as much when we get glimpses of Actual Romana I (not Pandora or an alternate universe version). idk if this is even fully true, it’s just….she doesn’t quite have the same vibe as the character I remember from the TV show (but this is also tricky because the Lies scene, the Matrix projection in Lies (which *isn’t* really her technically) and the remains of her consciousness in the body that Pandora’s using are the only times we get Actual Romana I - which isn’t that much time to express all the nuances of her character.)

(continuing to skip the favorite line question because it’s too hard)

brOTP: her and the Doctor!! (like I said in the Romana II ask, I used to ship them more, but lately I’ve been more into a platonic interpretation.) I just as instantly fell for their dynamic in the Ribos Operation - two people with very different personalities who don’t get along but are forced to work together and gradually become friends?? this is exactly the kind of relationship arc that I adore. Their banter and snark is So Good (I was so entertained by their interactions in Ribos Operation that my brain refused to pay attention to anything but their scenes, and I ended up having issues following the plot later oops). And I love their growing respect and care for each other - how they go from being mutually dismissive of each other to valuing each other and being a solid Team and just really genuinely liking each other! their friendship is just Very Good (…..and now I really want to rewatch season 16….I’ve only seen it like one and a half times but I loved it very much….)

OTP: I don’t think I have any ships with Romana I that I would consider an ‘otp’? (the closest would be her and the Doctor since I have sometimes shipped them and I adore their relationship in general)

nOTP: Brax/Romana again….and tbh with Romana I it’s more of an actual nOTP (rather than ‘kinda nOTP, kinda ‘it’s complicated’’) because this is the time frame when she’s actually his student and so my discomfort with student/teacher relationships really rears its head (although there’s still one fic out there that I just think is so well-written.....but it does show the relationship as very unhealthy). 

random headcanon: .....so sorry to continue Sartia posting, but oops the first thing that popped into my head is my new maybe-unrealistic headcanon that Sartia was Romana’s first kiss. in a teenage “I’m curious and want to try this thing and you’re the only person I hang out with, but it doesn’t mean anything....or does it??” way. (.....this is so self-indulgent in such a terrible way rip.)

unpopular opinion: Armageddon Factor is my favorite Key to Time story! (I gather this is an unpopular opinion in Doctor Who Fandom At Large, it doesn’t seem to be liked as much as some of the earlier stories in the season.) technically I’ve only seen it once and it was a couple years ago, but I remember loving it as a Romana story, there were a lot of really interesting character bits for her!

song i associate with them: hmm I don’t really have one? my Romana playlist is specifically for Romana II in Big Finish so....yeah.

favorite picture of them: anything with her Ribos Operation outfit (with the full cloak), it’s iconic and beautiful! on a similar note, I love this Romana I art by @volucris-liga, it’s the first Romana fanart I ever reblogged and it’s so pretty!

more under the cut!

LEELA

favorite thing about them: her resilience and her kindness. Leela goes through so much grief and pain, she has her world upended again and again, she never really finds a place where she belongs. and yet she still keeps choosing to love, choosing to keep fighting for what she believes in, choosing to rebuild again and again. and sometimes it’s really hard and she doesn’t want to go on….but she does, and she finds moments of happiness again. and that strength is really powerful. and no matter how cruel the universe (and other people) are to her, she is still relentlessly kind - she listens, she protects, she wants to help, she cares. 

least favorite thing about them: I mean, the “savage” stereotype that her character references is a racist/anti-indigenous trope (especially the whole dynamic of the Doctor trying to “civilize” her ugh). and I hate that characters keep calling her “savage” (even when they’re the Bad Guys, it’s still bringing up this trope again and again, and it’s even worse when it’s the Good Guys). why are they still doing this.

brOTP: see all characters listed under otp, every relationship that I ship is also an incredibly important friendship in Leela’s life and I love all of them <33 as far as relationships that I see as entirely non-romantic….I really love the version of Leela and Ace’s relationship that exists in my head (and in fandom) - they didn’t get to interact enough in the audios, but I absolutely think they were really close, because of their shared experiences and the ways their personalities mesh. (I feel like I should also say the Doctor here, but tbh I don’t remember her TV stories that well, so I don’t really have a solid memory of what their relationship was like.) and of course, Leela’s parental relationship with Rayo is very important to me!

OTP: once again, ot3 my beloved <33 and Leela/Romana first and foremost (I already rambled about them here, so I’m just going to second everything I said earlier). 

and I also ship Leela/Narvin, although I’m not quite as invested in that pairing? (due to a combination of ‘Romana is my favorite character and so I’m just more interested in her relationships with other characters,’ ‘I joined the fandom when things were pretty much all Leela/Narvin all the time (I say with great respect and affection for the artists and writers putting out amazing content for that ship) so I was motivated to write fic primarily for R/L and N/R to balance out the ot3 content,’ ‘apparently I have a contrary streak with Gallifrey and the more the writers push a romantic interpretation of a relationship, the less interested I am in actually shipping it,’ and ‘I’m not really into Leela/Narvin as a pairing on its own - although I do love a lot of fic that portrays them that way bc it’s just very well-written.’) But just. how they form a grudging alliance for Romana’s sake and then develop genuine respect for each other and then build this really solid foundation of teamwork and fondness and care and really relax and feel comfortable around each other….the way they become ride-or-die for each other and just trust and love each other so much….it’s Very Good!! (And I did love writing scenes with the two of them in Call It Home - I might not focus on them, but I do genuinely love their relationship.) 

And of course Leela/Veega <33….I debated if they even interacted enough in the actual audios for me to consider it an otp, but I love the idea of their relationship and the story of them in my head so much?? going to link to this post because it really captures my feelings about them - they’ve both been through so much grief and pain by the time they meet, they’ve both lost people they love before, so the idea of them choosing to love each other and build something together against the odds is just. very powerful. plus I have a whole playlist for the family they’ve built together, which is a strong indication that I really love this ship. 😊

nOTP: Leela/Andred. last time I answered an ask meme about Leela, I had this complicated response about how I hated Leela/Andred when I watched Invasion of Time (bc it’s so abrupt and arbitrary), and then Louise Jameson’s voice acting Convinced Me To Care because oh she really did love him....alas i am a Leela/Andred detractor at heart, and I have been nudged back to my default state by re-listening….I simply hate how he treats Leela in Gallifrey.

random headcanon: I really like the idea of Leela being more politically involved in her own right after they all return from the Axis. She’s just spent a lot of time leading a group of people who don’t have a voice in the government, fighting for their rights against the established injustices of Gallifreyan society. I don’t think she’d easily slip back into only being Romana’s bodyguard after experiencing more political autonomy on the other Gallifrey. What exactly this looks like in practice I’m not sure about - in my one fic ‘verse, I wrote about her being more directly involved with the Academy as a political liaison and guest tutor, and also advocating to Romana for policies that would benefit those who live outside the city on their home Gallifrey. but there’s probably a lot of options to explore here!

unpopular opinion: hmm I don’t think this is necessarily unpopular but idk and I want to talk about it: even though Leela identifies so strongly as a warrior, a “happy ending” for her would, I think, need to involve getting away from fighting. too often she throws herself into a fight to try to avoid thinking about how much she’s hurting, and it doesn’t work, it doesn’t stop the pain. and in the Time War, she’s tied her identity so strongly to war (it’s inevitable, inescapable, and she will Fight and Defend because that’s all she has left). there’s a difference between “I am a warrior” and “all I am is a warrior,” and Leela’s slid too far into the second one, and she needs to untangle her own identity from war to heal. 

song i associate with them: Freedom by Karmina (it’s a song about going on defiantly in the face of heartbreak -  “Tearing my room apart, I’m starting over” / “Take my pride I can still survive I’ve got my freedom” / “Hunt me down you’ll never find me now that I’ve got my freedom”)

favorite picture of them: the first one that came to mind is this gorgeous art by @laurelhach (which I didn’t realize was based on a picture until I stumbled across the original picture and was like oh my god!! it looks exactly like the art!!)

[gins-potter]

Chicago PD sneak peek thoughts dump

Putting it under the cut because I know not everyone likes to watch the sneak peeks...

So the sneak peeks for PD dropped earlier (honestly I'm surprised they didn't wait until next week to really torture us but hey I'm not complaining), if you haven't seen them they're on SpoilerTV's youtube channel, and they're also just floating around tumblr and twitter.

The first one is of Adam and Kevin:

They're hiding out at some kind of factory/warehouse/industrial complex with the guy who was involved in the officer-involved-shooting

As far as I can tell Adam and Kev were going to bring the other officer in to the district (either for arrest or questioning would be my guess) when they were attacked (probably in retaliation for the shooting) and they decided to hide out until they could get the officer to the district with no one else getting hurt.

The officer's running off his mouth about how he's a good cop, and how he protects the city, and he's getting judged for one incident, and Adam and Kev really couldn't give a fuck about what he has to say.

Adam's just trying to ignore him and tells Kevin to do the same, but it's obvious that Kev is getting more and more annoyed and that's when they get into the argument we saw a bit of in the promo.

Honestly I might just transcribe the whole convo because A Lot is happening

Adam: Please, I just- please, let's just ignore him. Stay calm.

Kev: Why? Why am I keeping calm? Why are you so calm? How can you just sit there with me, listening to this man defend himself, acting like we didn't just see the same tape.

Adam: Bro- I- we- it was a bad shoot. What do you want from me? I'm just trying to get through this, okay? I just want to go home. I don't want to get involved in things that are above us-

Kev: Let me tell you what we ain't gonna do. We ain't gonna say this is above our pay grade, we're not gonna dismiss this man as one bad apple, because we are in this. Alright, we have got to stop hiding behind-

Adam: Hiding behind what?

Kev: Being white!

Adam: Being white? Really?

Kev: You don't gotta be black to know wrong from right.

Adam: I never said that anything that that man did was right. Did you hear me say that?

Kev: Think about what this white man did, and how the next black kid is gonna look at you the next time you go out there.

Adam: I know. I know. But I'm not doing this with you, right now.

Kev: Why not? Why not? We're here, we might as well, we've been shot at, chased down, all while protecting the white cop that killed the black kid, and I've gotta live with that, why not you? I've gotta be angry, why not you? 'Cause you're the good white cop? That can't understand? Who has nothing to do with any of this? That what you're trying to tell me?

Adam: Because I don't! That's not me. What's inside of him, is not inside of me. And you should be the one to know that. How dare you, man? I'm sick of you questioning me all the time. Why is it me? Why is it me who has to answer for this guy, huh? Ask yourself that question.

So a really tense discussion, pretty much, and I just want to comment on a couple of things that get said, particularly about the lines that I bolded.

First off I'm really curious about when in the episode this all happens, because the way Adam says he just wants to go home makes it sound like they've really been through it and he's just tired and frustrated and really doesn't want to be dealing with this. Which makes me wonder if that's partly what leads to this blowup.

But that line also betrays Adam's inherent privilege in the situation. Like I was saying in my post about the promo, as a white cop Adam has the luxury of going home and taking off his badge and thereby taking away that problem to deal with another day. He can sit back and not think about it for a while. Kevin doesn't have that luxury, he can't remove his blackness the same way, he doesn't get to go home where it won't be a problem any more. Which is what I think leads to the rest of the argument.

So Kev goes onto say it's not good enough to dismiss this as something above their paygrade. Because again that's a luxury he doesn't have. This is something he has to carry with him every day, on the job and off it. It's not fair that the others, because they're white, get to shrug and say well it's not really our problem. I think what Kevin wants here is for them to step up and start holding each other accountable.

Because as he says right after, this isn't just one bad apple. And he knows it's not just one bad apple. Look back at the first few episodes of the season, and the way almost the entire district turned against him for not standing with the blue wall. The only people who didn't was the Intelligence Unit and they're his friends. So he knows more than anyone else that this isn't just one bad apple.

The end of the conversation kind of circles back to what I've been saying about Kevin not having the luxury of not being angry. This is something that affects him, his family, and his community. He shouldn't have to calm down. And you can see how frustrating it is for him that Adam can be so calm about it.

That is until the end anyway, when Adam kind of loses it. And honestly his last few lines might be the most telling I think. Because, look, I love Adam, I do, with my whole heart, but when he said "what's inside of him, is not inside of me" I was kind of like, are you sure? We've seen Adam draw his weapon on unarmed black men, we've seen the entire unit be more aggressive than necessary towards black men. And even beyond that, we all have inherent internal biases that won't go away unless we actively work on them. It goes back to this misunderstanding that a lot of white liberals have where they think that because they don't say slurs or agree with slavery that that automatically makes them incapable of racism. Racism comes in a lot of different forms, and it's inherently learnt because so many of the institutions that we grew up with are built on racism. And facing that is hard and it's uncomfortable and the way Adam reacts here, makes me think he hasn't had that uncomfortable conversation with himself yet. And I think he's reacting the way he is because what Kevin's saying is making him realise that maybe he's not as innocent as he thought.

And just to wrap up, I just find it lowkey hilarious when Adam says that he's sick of Kevin questioning him, because it absolutely wasn't the writers intention but it was exactly what I was saying about these type of storylines. They've been coming up for a couple of seasons now and it's consistently Adam vs Kevin in these situations, with the rest of the team rarely, if ever, weighing in, or being forced to confront their own biases and racism. Which I why I still want there to be some type of scene or arc where it's not just Kevin vs Adam, but where the entire unit is held accountable.

Anyway so that's sort of my thoughts about that sneak peek. Less theorising and just dumping what I was thinking as I watched and my take on it. Which is why I've tried to space the dot points out a bit because they ended up long af lmao.

So, the second sneak peek is between Voight and the new deputy superintendent, Sam Miller? I think her name is:

There isn't much that happens in this sneak peek, it's really just context for the other one.

Basically Voight and Miller are at a crime scene, from context I'm guessing this is where Adam and Kev were picking this officer up from when they got shot at which lead them to hide out until they can get back to the district.

Voight mentions that he's heard from Adam and Kev and that they aren't injured, that they're transporting the officer "off-book", and that their priority is keeping everyone safe.

Voight and Miller agree to work together to do whatever needs to be done to get everyone through this alive.

Miller mentions a potential leak at CPD, presumably that's how people found out where the officer and Adam and Kev would be.

Like I said, not much happens.

My only thoughts are that I really don't understand the point of Miller's character at this point.

She was described as like this tough, fierce advocator of police reform and how she was going to come in and shake things up, and I thought she was going to come in and put Voight in his place. And we really just haven't gotten any of that. Feels like she comes in, says a few pretty words, and then Voight ends up going about business as usual. Le shrug.

[teacherintransition]

The Ugly American...who? Me?

My wife an I have become avid travelers and the closing of countries due to Covid-19 has hit us in the heart...

The time at home has given me chance to read about travel and given me pause to re-evaluate my behavior while abroad in the past and for the future...

The Ugly American, a novel written in the late 1950’s and which was a The New York Times Best Seller, was written by political scientist Eugene Burdick and writer and former U.S. Navy captain William Lederer. The book took a much needed look at the behavior of Americans traveling abroad; from the rugged backpacker hiking India to the field State Department personnel actually presenting the “official face” of our country in the international community. Prior to World War 1, most international travel by Americans was done by the wealthy elite among society. The “common” man through the tribulations of war, was given the opportunity to experience European culture and a yearning for seeing the world was fostered. If fact, there was a saying after WWI, “how you gonna keep Johnny on the farm after he’s seen Paree (Paris)?” The travel bug... wanderlust was born in the hearts of the middle class and gave rise to this phenomenon in film and in books written by Jack Kerouac, Cheryl Strayed, Ernest Hemingway up to contemporary writers like Anthony Bourdain, Andrew Sean Greer and Elizabeth Gilbert. Even Rick Steves who has become a knowledgeable source of traveling information with his travel guide series, has presented an informative open minded view of travel abroad.

All of these written treasures of traveling the world unveils to readers the magic that is to be found by stepping out your front door. The Ugly American presents a scathing look at how the “American” while overseas, displays an arrogant , intolerant, dismissive view of cultures far older and in many cases, more refined than ours. Burdick and Lederer’s book is set within the intrigues of international diplomacy and how that uniquely American view creates failure in the establishment of effective foreign policy. The authors listed and many more besides, instruct their readers to varying degrees to take more note of the intricate nuances a traveler should pay attention to and to show respect and admiration for the centuries of history and culture that exists all around us and that is not American. There is a common thread throughout all their works about what is missed when we stand outside and dismiss the uniqueness of every nation we might visit, instead of immersing oneself and appreciating it in a culture not our own. The “ugly American” has become a mythos of how Americans respond critically to anything that is not “MURICAN!”

Several other factors besides short sighted American foreign policy have contributed to the yoke placed on Americans traveling: cutthroat business practices while dealing with European, Asian and African countries; missionaries whose demonstrate a dismissive view of spiritual practices that have existed for millennia and, quite honestly, the behavior of tourists while abroad. Many experienced travelers draw a clear distinction between the tourist and the traveler. Kathryn Walsh differentiates the two in the following way:

Tourists

It's usually easy for locals to spot a tourist among them. A tourist may carry a camera, guidebook and map at all times and wear the same clothing he'd wear at home. Tourists tend to stay in their comfort zones a bit; they may speak only English instead of trying to learn phrases in the local language; stick to major cities instead of venturing to smaller towns or off-the-beaten-path locales; and stay in areas where the amenities are similar to what they have at home.

Travelers

Generally speaking, someone who considers himself a traveler will try to immerse himself in the local culture rather than standing out. If you're a traveler, you may try to explore the less-traveled areas and explore locations where tourism doesn't drive the economy. You'll interact with locals. Your goals for a trip will be to learn and experience new things, rather than to take a relaxing break from everyday life. A traveler may consider a trip a journey rather than a vacation.

The traveler presents a deferential, respectful and admiring view of the nations they are visiting and adopt the wise phrase from antiquity: “when in Rome do as the Romans.”

There is nothing wrong with being a tourist, often it is the less expensive approach to travel, unless you become the arrogant American tourist then perhaps you need to reassess. Travel is a big part of my retirement plans and goals, but you know what they say about the best laid plans. Two highly anticipated trips with two years involved in planning were rescheduled due to the Covid-19 pandemic, a disappointment we shared with thousands of tourists and travelers alike; and further postponements may continue to confront us. Perspective is needed in such a situation as being denied travel is far below other struggles this event has presented all of us. That being said, it has been a terrible disappointment down to my bones. We’ve missed much needed fellowship time with great friends, the excitement of seeing new places, the immersion in the culture and history of the locales, and, for me personally, our yearly travels have been my muse and inspiration for so much of my art. It’s akin to being very thirsty and having only a few drops to suffice. Introspection is the course of action when hopefully contemplating the possibility of the trips occurring.

To satiate the urge, we’ve read and watched travel programs in the interim and have evaluated our connection to the Ugly American concept? Are we ...them? In our past travels, have we appeared at all dismissive of the people and practices of the places we’ve visited? My wife and I have always been in awe of our travel destinations, so I feel fairly confident that we have not displayed the aforementioned arrogance of many American travelers. The thought that then arises is how much we have not allowed ourselves to be immersed in the culture; which, in the long run, is a detriment to us more than anyone. Our minds are open and willing to become part of the places we visit, but if we eliminate the brusque nature of so many Americans while overseas, what is the stumbling block that draws such distinctions when traveling? I fully concede that most Americans feel they have little to learn from many places on this planet, more is the pity, and there is much flawed thinking that goes into this mindset; but what fundamental differences exist between the cultures? I came across a very enlightening blog article written by Alain Veilell that was spot on in identifying the differences. Veilell simply observed that we run on different clocks. Not literal clocks but a “clock” obsessed with structure and deadline.... hello Americans! Veilell notes that Europeans start late and end late, while American and many Asian cultures start early and end early. Americans tend to view the un-regimented approach as being akin to laziness. I coached soccer and baseball for many years and many of my Latino players would not be as punctual as my other players. They were as talented and competitive, but their homes weren’t ruled by the seconds on a clock. Dinner started later, lasted longer, the dishes could wait... the priority was the quality of interaction with the people your with... ah, there it is ... sort of.

The average American meal last twenty minutes, while the average meal in Spain, for example, lasts two hours. They certainly don’t eat as much as Americans so why all the extra time? Why should time even be a factor so often? It’s the conversation and fellowship that is the priority not timing. While without question, the structured regimentation is a contributing factor to the American commitment to financial success, it also contributes to hypertension, stress, anxiety, depression and conflict that might be avoided with having an extra glass of wine and talking and not worrying if dinner is on schedule. Taking a little more time, enjoying the moment, letting serendipity reign may not be part and parcel of the Puritan work ethic; but it plays a helluva big part in realizing “La Dolce Vita.” This perception of time throws the rhythm off for many American tourists and makes us the ones to call the front desk complaining that the folks in room 210 are just too loud at 9:30 pm. The local population may just be getting ready to start dinner at that time. Remember, “when in Rome do as the Romans?”

While traveling, often American tourists view differences as a personal affront. “ I have to ask for ice?’ “What, no air conditioner?’ “They call the restroom the toilet?’ “Ugh how vulgar ... and a bidet? You must be kidding?” Truth to tell, Americans also suffer from mischaracterization from travelers from abroad as well. If I had a nickel for ever foreign exchange student who thought that all of Texas was a giant ranch with everyone riding horses and wearing cowboy hats. I think though that visitors to our country more often than not allow themselves to be pleasantly surprised than to have their feathers ruffled. It seems that we allow the “ours is better than yours” mentality to outweigh the magic of the unknown and the different. Every spiritual guiding ethos advocates living in the moment, treasure what is happening right now, greet the unknown with hope not hostility. The ugly American leaves no room for such an upbeat approach. Superiority mentality leave very little to treasure in this magnificent world other than what is yours and that limits learning, excitement, growth and just the pure joy that comes from trekking this world.

Is this assessment of mine a blanket judgement? No, not at all but there is some truth to it and there is something to be learned. As I self analyze, I found that I may harbor some of these traits and it’s good that I have time to stand back and look ...to learn. The worthy goal of being an affirming member of this global community is a purpose that I seek; and the rewards are far beyond just being intrinsic but rewards the cultures you visit with an admiration and respect they deserve. As these thoughts have been put down, it reignites the hopes that the planned journeys come to realization with the anticipation of more to follow. No more ugly Americans, British, Japanese or what have you, just eager travelers wanting to see and experience all that this world has to offer. Happy travels my friends.

Burdick, Eugene Lederer, William; The Ugly American ; Norton Publications; 1958

Veilel, Alain; “Why don’t Europeans Travel to Cancun?;” Quora; October 8, 2020

Walsh, Kathryn. "Differences Between a Tourist and a Traveller" traveltips.usatoday.com, https://traveltips.usatoday.com/differences-between-tourist-traveller-103756.html. 5 April 2021.

Photo from https://www.myheritage.com/

Photo from https://openlibrary.org/authors/OL13640A/Ernest_Hemingway

[path-of-my-childhood]

Taylor Swift Bent the Music Industry to Her Will

By: Lindsay Zoladz for Vulture Date: December 30th 2019

In the 2010s, she became its savviest power player.

n late November 2019, Taylor Swift gave a career-spanning performance at the American Music Awards before accepting the statue for Artist of the Decade. (Swift was perhaps the perfect cross between the award’s two previous recipients, Britney Spears and Garth Brooks.) Clad in a cascading rose-colored cape and holding court among the younger female artists in attendance - 17-year-old Billie Eilish, 22-year-old Camila Cabello, 25-year-old Halsey - Swift had the queenly air of an elder stateswoman. After picking up five additional awards, including Artist of the Year, she became the show’s most decorated artist in history. “This is such a great year in music. The new artists are insane,” she declared in her acceptance speech, with big-sister gravitas. That night, she finally outgrew that “Who, me?” face of perpetual awards-show surprise; she accepted the honors she won like an artist who believed she had worked hard enough to deserve them.

Swift cut an imposing adult figure up there, because somewhere along the line she’d become one. The 2010s have coincided almost exactly with Swift’s 20s, with the subtle image changes and maturations across her last five album cycles coming to look like an Animorphs cover of a savvy and talented young woman gradually growing into her power. And so to reflect on the Decade in Taylor Swift is to assess not just her sonic evolutions but her many industry chess moves: She took Spotify to task in a Wall Street Journal op-ed and got Apple to reverse its policy of not paying artists royalties during a three-month free trial of its music-streaming service. She sued a former radio DJ for allegedly groping her during a photo op and demanded just a symbolic victory of $1, as if to say the money wasn’t the point. Critics wondered whether she was leaning too heavily on her co-writers, so she wrote her entire 2010 album, Speak Now, herself, without any collaborators. In 2018, she severed ties with her longtime label, Big Machine Records, and negotiated a new contract with Universal Music Group that gave her ownership of her masters and assurance that she (and any other artist on the label) would be paid out if UMG ever sold its Spotify shares. Yes, she stoked the flames of her celebrity feuds with Kanye West, Kim Kardashian West, and Katy Perry plenty over the past ten years, but she’s also focused some of her combative energy on tackling systemic problems and fashioning herself into something like the music industry’s most high-profile vigilante. Few artists have made royalty payments and the minutiae of entertainment-law front-page news as often as Swift has.

Within the industry, Swift has always had the reputation of being something of a songwriting savant (in 2007, when “Our Song” was released, then-17-year-old Swift became the youngest person ever to write and perform a No. 1 song on the Billboard Country chart), but she has long desired to be considered an industry power player, too. A 2011 New Yorker profile of Swift circa her blockbuster Speak Now World Tour noted that she initially intended to follow her parents’ footsteps and pursue a career in business, quoting her saying, “I didn’t know what a stockbroker was when I was 8, but I would just tell everybody that’s what I was going to be.” In an even earlier interview, she fondly recalled the times in elementary school when she stayed up late with her mother, practicing for school presentations. “I’m sick of women not being able to say that they have strategic business minds - because male artists are allowed to,” she said this year in an unusually candid Rolling Stone interview. “And I’m so sick and tired of having to pretend like I don’t mastermind my own business.” Of course, she still spent plenty of time sitting at her piano or strumming her guitar, but in that conversation she painted herself as someone who is also “sit[ting] in a conference room several times a week,” coming up with ideas about how best to market her music and her career.

And so over the past decade, Swift’s face has appeared not just on magazine covers and television screens, but on UPS trucks and Amazon packages. Her songs have been featured in Target commercials and NFL spots, to name just two of her many lucrative partnerships. That New Yorker profile also found her to be uncommonly enthused about the fact that her CDs were being sold in Starbucks: “I was so stoked about it, because it’s been one of my goals - I always go into Starbucks, and I wished that they would sell my album.”

“Taylor Swift is something like the Sheryl Sandberg of pop music,” Hazel Cills wrote recently in Jezebel. “She has propelled her career from tiny country artist into pop machine over the past few years with little shame when it comes to corporate collaborators.” Such brazen femme-capitalism will always be a turnoff to some people (“the Sheryl Sandberg of pop music” is even less of a compliment in 2019 than it was when Lean In was first published), but it’s undeniable that it has helped Swift maintain and leverage her status as a commercial juggernaut more consistently than any other pop star over the past ten years.

In the 2010s, with the clockwork certainty of a midterm election, there was a Taylor Swift album every other autumn. (Yes, there was a three-year gap between 1989 and Reputation, but she all but made up for it with the quick timing of August’s Lover.) The kinds of pop superstars considered her peers did not stick to such rigid schedules: Adele released two studio albums this decade, Beyoncé released three, and even Rihanna - who for the first three years of the decade was averaging an album a year - eventually slowed her roll and will have released just four when the 2010s are all said and done. The only A-plus-list musician who saturated the market as steadily as Swift did this decade was Drake.

Still, Drake’s commercial dominance was more of a newfangled phenomenon, capitalizing on the industry’s sudden reliance on streaming and his massive popularity on platforms like Spotify and Apple Music. Drake might be the artist who rode the streaming wave most successfully this decade, but - with her strategic withholding of her albums from certain platforms until they better compensated artists - Swift was often the one bending it to her will. And she could do that because she didn’t need to rely on it solely: Somehow, against all odds, Taylor Swift still sold records. Like, gazillions of them. When Swift’s 2017 record, Reputation (some critics thought it was a critical misstep, but it certainly wasn’t a commercial one), moved 1.216 million units in its first seven days, Swift became the only artist in history to achieve four different million-selling weeks. And, of course, all four of these weeks came during a decade when traditional album sales were on a precipitous decline. At least for those mere mortals who were not an all-powerful being named Taylor Alison Swift.

“Female empowerment” has been such an ambient, unquestioned virtue of the pop culture of this decade that we have too often failed to take a step back and ask ourselves what sort of power is being advocated for, and if its attainment should always be a cause for celebration. Is “female empowerment” any different from the hollow, materialistic promises of the late ’90s “girl power”? Is “female power” inherently different or more benevolent than its default male counterpart? Maybe this feels like such a distinctly American hang-up because we have not yet experienced that mythic, oft-imagined figure of the First Female President, and have thus not had to contend with the cold reality that, whoever she is, she will, like all of us, be inevitably flawed, imperfect, and at least occasionally disappointing.

As she’s grown into her own brand of 21st-century American pop feminism - sometimes elegantly, sometimes gawkily - Swift seems to have come to a firm conviction that female power is essentially more virtuous than the male variety. This was a side of herself she celebrated in her AMA performance. Swift opened her medley with a few fiery bars of “The Man,” her own personalized daydream of what gender equality would look like: “I’m so sick of running as fast as I can,” she sings, “wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man.” She wore an oversize white button-down onto which the titles of her old albums were stamped in a correctional-facility font: SPEAK NOW, RED, 1989, REPUTATION. Plenty of the millions of people who scrutinize Swift’s every move interpreted her choice of outfit and song as not-so-subtle jabs at Big Machine’s Scott Borchetta and the manager-to-the-stars Scooter Braun, with whom Swift is still in a messy, uncommonly public battle over the fate of her master recordings. (The only album title missing from her outfit was “LOVER,” which happens to be the only one of which she has full ownership.) She has framed the terms of her battle with Borchetta and Braun in strikingly gendered language: “These are two very rich, very powerful men, using $300 million of other people’s money to purchase, like, the most feminine body of work,” she told Rolling Stone. “And then they’re standing in a wood-panel bar doing a tacky photo shoot, raising a glass of Scotch to themselves.” Though she is herself a very rich, very powerful woman, she reads their message to be unquestionably condescending: Be a good little girl and shut up.

It is true that many record contracts are designed to take advantage of young artists, and that young women and people of color are probably perceived by music executives to be the marks most vulnerable to exploitation. But it is also true that Swift signed a legally binding contract, the kind that a businesswoman like herself would have to respect if it were signed by somebody else. Braun, who has been asking to have these negotiations in private rather than on Twitter, claims to have received death threats from her fans.

Even as she’s grown into one of the most dominant pop-culture figures in the world, Swift sometimes still seems to be clinging to her old underdog identity, to the extent that she can fail to grasp the magnitude of her own power or account for the blind spots of her privilege. “Someday I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,” she sang on Speak Now’s Grammy-winning 2010 single “Mean,” seemingly oblivious to the fact that, compared to 99.99 percent of the population, she already was. The mid-decade backlash to Swift’s thin-white-celebrity-and-model-studded “girl squad” - none of which was more incisive than Lara Marie Schoenhals’s hilarious parody video - took her by surprise. “I never would have imagined that people would have thought, This is a clique that wouldn’t have accepted me if I wanted to be in it... I thought it was going to be we can still stick together, just like men are allowed to.”

“Female power” is not automatically faultless, and can of course be tainted by all other sorts of biases and assumptions about class, race, and sexual orientation, to name just a few more common pitfalls. Swift’s face-palm-inducing 2015 misunderstanding with Nicki Minaj revealed this, of course, and plenty of people felt that her sudden embrace of the LGBTQ community in the “You Need to Calm Down” was a clumsy overcorrection for her past silence. Maybe she would have gotten where she was quicker if she were a man. But it would take a more complicated, and perhaps less catchy, song to acknowledge she might not have gotten there at all had she not also enjoyed other privileges.

Art has its own kind of power - sneakier and harder to measure than the economic kind. The reason Taylor Swift has been worth talking about incessantly for an entire decade is that she continues to wield this kind, too. “I don’t think her commercial responsibilities detract from her genuine passion for her craft,” a then-17-year-old Tavi Gevinson wrote in a memorable 2013 essay for The Believer. “Have you ever watched her in interviews when she gets asked about her actual songwriting? She becomes that kid who’s really into the science fair.”

After so much industry drama, much of the lived-in, self-reflective Lover is a simple reminder that Swift was and still is a singular songwriter. Yes, this was the decade of such loud, flashy missteps as “Look What You Made Me Do,” “Welcome to New York,” and “Me!,” but it was also a decade of so many quieter triumphs: the pulsing synesthesia of “Red,” the nervous heart flutter of “Delicate,” the sleek sophistication of “Style,” the concise lyricism of “Mean,” the cathartic fun of “22,” the slow-dance swoon of “Lover.” But like so many of her fans, and even Swift herself, I still find the most enduringly powerful song she’s ever written to be “All Too Well,” the smoldering breakup scrapbook released on her great 2012 album Red. “Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well,” she sings, an innocent enough lyric that, by the end of the song, comes to glint like a switchblade. In a decade of DGAF, ghosting, and performative chill, remembering it all too well might be Swift’s stealthiest superpower. She felt it deeply, can still access that feeling whenever she needs to, and that means she can size you up in a line as concisely cutting as “so casually cruel in the name of being honest.” Forget Jake Gyllenhaal or John Mayer. That’s the sort of observation that would bring Goliath to his knees.

“It is still the case that when listeners hear a female voice, they do not hear a voice that connotes authority,” the historian Mary Beard writes in her manifesto Women & Power, “or rather they have not learned how to hear authority in it.” At least in the realm of pop music, Swift has spent the better part of her decade chipping away at that double standard, and teaching people how to think about cultural power a little bit differently. She sprinkled artful emblems of teen-girl-speak through her smash hits (“Uhhh he calls me and he’s like, ‘I still love you,’ and I’m like, ‘This is exhausting, we are never getting back together, like, ever”) and did not abandon her effusive love of kittens and butterflies in order to be taken seriously. As an artist and a businesswoman, she made the power of teen girls - and the women who used to be them - that much more perilous to ignore. Because they’ve been there all along, and they remember all too well.

[twocubes]

Wow, that apple pi is great. Who is John Galt?

A Spectre is haunting multinational capitalism--the spectre of free information. All the powers of ``globalism'' have entered into an unholy alliance to exorcize this spectre: Microsoft and Disney, the World Trade Organization, the United States Congress and the European Commission.

Where are the advocates of freedom in the new digital society who have not been decried as pirates, anarchists, communists? Have we not seen that many of those hurling the epithets were merely thieves in power, whose talk of ``intellectual property'' was nothing more than an attempt to retain unjustifiable privileges in a society irrevocably changing? But it is acknowledged by all the Powers of Globalism that the movement for freedom is itself a Power, and it is high time that we should publish our views in the face of the whole world, to meet this nursery tale of the Spectre of Free Information with a Manifesto of our own.

Owners and Creators

Throughout the world the movement for free information announces the arrival of a new social structure, born of the transformation of bourgeois industrial society by the digital technology of its own invention.

The history of all hitherto existing societies reveals a history of class struggles.

Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-master and journeyman, bourgeois and proletarian, imperialist and subaltern, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constant opposition to one another, carried on an uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight that has often ended, either in a revolutionary re-constitution of society at large, or in the common ruin of the contending classes.

The industrial society that sprouted from the worldwide expansion of European power ushering in modernity did not do away with class antagonisms. It but established new classes, new conditions of oppression, new forms of struggle in place of the old ones. But the epoch of the bourgeoisie simplified the class antagonisms. Society as a whole seemed divided into two great hostile camps, into two great classes, directly facing each other: Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.

But revolution did not by and large occur, and the ``dictatorship of the proletariat,'' where it arose or claimed to arise, proved incapable of instituting freedom. Instead, capitalism was enabled by technology to secure for itself a measure of consent. The modern laborer in the advanced societies rose with the progress of industry, rather than sinking deeper and deeper below the conditions of existence of his own class. Pauperism did not develop more rapidly than population and wealth. Rationalized industry in the Fordist style turned industrial workers not into a pauperized proletariat, but rather into mass consumers of mass production. Civilizing the proletariat became part of the self-protective program of the bourgeoisie.

In this way, universal education and an end to the industrial exploitation of children became no longer the despised program of the proletarian revolutionary, but the standard of bourgeois social morality. With universal education, workers became literate in the media that could stimulate them to additional consumption. The development of sound recording, telephony, moving pictures, and radio and television broadcasting changed the workers' relationship to bourgeois culture, even as it profoundly altered the culture itself.

Music, for example, throughout previous human history was an acutely perishable non-commodity, a social process, occurring in a place and at a time, consumed where it was made, by people who were indistinctly differentiated as consumers and as makers. After the adoption of recording, music was a non-persishable commodity that could be moved long distances and was necessarily alienated from those who made it. Music became, as an article of consumption, an opportunity for its new ``owners'' to direct additional consumption, to create wants on the part of the new mass consuming class, and to drive its demand in directions profitable to ownership. So too with the entirely new medium of the moving picture, which within decades reoriented the nature of human cognition, capturing a substantial fraction of every worker's day for the reception of messages ordering additional consumption. Tens of thousands of such advertisements passed before the eyes of each child every year, reducing to a new form of serfdom the children liberated from tending a productive machine: they were now compulsorily enlisted in tending the machinery of consumption.

Thus the conditions of bourgeois society were made less narrow, better able to comprise the wealth created by them. Thus was cured the absurd epidemic of recurrent over-production. No longer was there too much civilisation, too much means of subsistence, too much industry, too much commerce.

But the bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionising the instruments of production, and thereby the relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society. Constant revolutionising of production, uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty and agitation distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones. All fixed, fast-frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away, all new-formed ones become antiquated before they can ossify. All that is solid melts into air.

With the adoption of digital technology, the system of mass consumer production supported by mass consumer culture gave birth to new social conditions out of which a new structure of class antagonism precipitates.

The bourgeoisie, by the rapid improvement of all instruments of production, by the immensely facilitated means of communication, draws all, even the most barbarian, nations into civilisation. The cheap prices of its commodities are the heavy artillery with which it batters down all Chinese walls, with which it forces the barbarians' intensely obstinate hatred of foreigners to capitulate. It compels all nations, on pain of extinction, to adopt its culture and its principles of intellectual ownership; it compels them to introduce what it calls civilisation into their midst, i.e., to become bourgeois themselves. In one word, it creates a world after its own image. But the very instruments of its communication and acculturation establish the modes of resistance which are turned against itself.

Digital technology transforms the bourgeois economy. The dominant goods in the system of production--the articles of cultural consumption that are both commodities sold and instructions to the worker on what and how to buy--along with all other forms of culture and knowledge now have zero marginal cost. Anyone and everyone may have the benefit of all works of culture: music, art, literature, technical information, science, and every other form of knowledge. Barriers of social inequality and geographic isolation dissolve. In place of the old local and national seclusion and self-sufficiency, we have intercourse in every direction, universal inter-dependence of people. And as in material, so also in intellectual production. The intellectual creations of individual people become common property. Modern bourgeois society with its relations of production, of exchange and of property, a society that has conjured up such gigantic means of production and of exchange, is like the sorcerer's apprentice, who is no longer able to control the powers of the nether world whom he has called up by his spells.

With this change, man is at last compelled to face with sober senses his real conditions of life, and his relations with his kind. Society confronts the simple fact that when everyone can possess every intellectual work of beauty and utility--reaping all the human value of every increase of knowledge--at the same cost that any one person can possess them, it is no longer moral to exclude. If Rome possessed the power to feed everyone amply at no greater cost than that of Caesar's own table, the people would sweep Caesar violently away if anyone were left to starve. But the bourgeois system of ownership demands that knowledge and culture be rationed by the ability to pay. Alternative traditional forms, made newly viable by the technology of interconnection, comprising voluntary associations of those who create and those who support, must be forced into unequal competition with ownership's overwhelmingly powerful systems of mass communication. Those systems of mass communication are in turn based on the appropriation of the people's common rights in the electromagnetic spectrum. Throughout the digital society the classes of knowledge workers--artists, musicians, writers, students, technologists and others trying to gain in their conditions of life by copying and modifying information--are radicalized by the conflict between what they know is possible and what the ideology of the bourgeois compels them to accept. Out of that discordance arises the consciousness of a new class, and with its rise to self-consciousness the fall of ownership begins.

The advance of digital society, whose involuntary promoter is the bourgeoisie, replaces the isolation of the creators, due to competition, by their revolutionary combination, due to association. Creators of knowledge, technology, and culture discover that they no longer require the structure of production based on ownership and the structure of distribution based on coercion of payment. Association, and its anarchist model of propertyless production, makes possible the creation of free software, through which creators gain control of the technology of further production.[1] The network itself, freed of the control of broadcasters and other bandwidth owners, becomes the locus of a new system of distribution, based on association among peers without hierarchical control, which replaces the coercive system of distribution for all music, video, and other soft goods. Universities, libraries, and related institutions become allies of the new class, interpreting their historic role as distributors of knowledge to require them to offer increasingly complete access to the knowledge in their stewardship to all people, freely. The liberation of information from the control of ownership liberates the worker from his imposed role as custodian of the machine. Free information allows the worker to invest her time not in the consumption of bourgeois culture, with its increasingly urgent invitations to sterile consumption, but in the cultivation of her mind and her skills. Increasingly aware of her powers of creation, she ceases to be a passive participant in the systems of production and consumption in which bourgeois society entrapped her.

But the bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations. It has pitilessly torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his ``natural superiors,'' and has left remaining no other nexus between man and man than naked self-interest, than callous ``cash payment.'' It has drowned the most heavenly ecstasies of religious fervour, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value. And in place of the numberless and feasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom--Free Trade. In one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation.

Against the forthcoming profound liberation of the working classes, whose access to knowledge and information power now transcends their previous narrow role as consumers of mass culture, the system of bourgeois ownership therefore necessarily contends to its very last. With its preferred instrument of Free Trade, ownership attempts to bring about the very crisis of over-production it once feared. Desperate to entrap the creators in their role as waged consumers, bourgeois ownership attempts to turn material deprivation in some parts of the globe into a source of cheap goods with which to bribe back into cultural passivity not the barbarians, but its own most prized possession--the educated technological laborers of the most advanced societies.

At this stage the workers and creators still form an incoherent mass scattered over the whole globe, and remain broken up by their mutual competition. Now and then the creators are victorious, but only for a time. The real fruit of their battles lies, not in the immediate result, but in the ever-expanding union. This union is helped on by the improved means of communication that are created by modern industry and that place the workers and creators of different localities in contact with one another. It was just this contact that was needed to centralise the numerous local struggles, all of the same character, into one national struggle between classes. But every class struggle is a political struggle. And that union, to attain which the burghers of the Middle Ages, with their miserable highways, required centuries, the modern knowledge workers, thanks to the network, achieve in a few years.

Freedom and Creation

Not only has the bourgeoisie forged the weapons that bring death to itself; it has also called into existence the men who are to wield those weapons--the digital working class--the creators. Possessed of skills and knowledges that create both social and exchange value, resisting reduction to the status of commodity, capable collectively of producing all the technologies of freedom, such workmen cannot be reduced to appendages of the machine. Where once bonds of ignorance and geographical isolation tied the proletarian to the industrial army in which he formed an indistinguishable and disposable component, creators collectively wielding control over the network of human communications retain their individuality, and offer the value of their intellectual labor through a variety of arrangements more favorable to their welfare, and to their freedom, than the system of bourgeois ownership ever conceded them.

But in precise proportion to the success of the creators in establishing the genuinely free economy, the bourgeoisie must reinforce the structure of coercive production and distribution concealed within its supposed preference for ``free markets'' and ``free trade.'' Though ultimately prepared to defend by force arrangements that depend on force, however masked, the bourgeoisie at first attempts the reimposition of coercion through its preferred instrument of compulsion, the institutions of its law. Like the ancien régime in France, which believed that feudal property could be maintained by conservative force of law despite the modernization of society, the owners of bourgeois culture expect their law of property to provide a magic bulwark against the forces they have themselves released.

At a certain stage in the development of the means of production and of exchange, the conditions under which feudal society produced and exchanged, the feudal organisation of agriculture and manufacturing industry, in one word, the feudal relations of property became no longer compatible with the already developed productive forces; they became so many fetters. They had to be burst asunder; they were burst asunder.

Into their place stepped free competition, accompanied by a social and political constitution adapted to it, and by the economic and political sway of the bourgeois class. But ``free competition'' was never more than an aspiration of bourgeois society, which constantly experienced the capitalists' intrinsic preference for monopoly. Bourgeois property exemplified the concept of monopoly, denying at the level of practical arrangements the dogma of freedom bourgeois law inconsistently proclaimed. As, in the new digital society, creators establish genuinely free forms of economic activity, the dogma of bourgeois property comes into active conflict with the dogma of bourgeois freedom. Protecting the ownership of ideas requires the suppression of free technology, which means the suppression of free speech. The power of the State is employed to prohibit free creation. Scientists, artists, engineers and students are prevented from creating or sharing knowledge, on the ground that their ideas imperil the owners' property in the system of cultural production and distribution. It is in the courts of the owners that the creators find their class identity most clearly, and it is there, accordingly, that the conflict begins.

But the law of bourgeois property is not a magic amulet against the consequences of bourgeois technology: the broom of the sorcerer's apprentice will keep sweeping, and the water continues to rise. It is in the domain of technology that the defeat of ownership finally occurs, as the new modes of production and distribution burst the fetters of the outmoded law.

All the preceding classes that got the upper hand, sought to fortify their already acquired status by subjecting society at large to their conditions of appropriation. Knowledge workers cannot become masters of the productive forces of society, except by abolishing their own previous mode of appropriation, and thereby also every other previous mode of appropriation. Theirs is the revolutionary dedication to freedom: to the abolition of the ownership of ideas, to the free circulation of knowledge, and the restoration of culture as the symbolic commons that all human beings share.

To the owners of culture, we say: You are horrified at our intending to do away with private property in ideas. But in your existing society, private property is already done away with for nine-tenths of the population. What they create is immediately appropriated by their employers, who claim the fruit of their intellect through the law of patent, copyright, trade secret and other forms of ``intellectual property.'' Their birthright in the electromagnetic spectrum, which can allow all people to communicate with and learn from one another, freely, at almost inexhaustible capacity for nominal cost, has been taken from them by the bourgeoisie, and is returned to them as articles of consumption--broadcast culture, and telecommunications services--for which they pay dearly. Their creativity finds no outlet: their music, their art, their storytelling is drowned out by the commodities of capitalist culture, amplified by all the power of the oligopoly of ``broadcasting,'' before which they are supposed to remain passive, consuming rather than creating. In short, the property you lament is the proceeds of theft: its existence for the few is solely due to its non-existence in the hands of everyone else. You reproach us, therefore, with intending to do away with a form of property, the necessary condition for whose existence is the non-existence of any such property for the immense majority of society.

It has been objected that upon the abolition of private property in ideas and culture all creative work will cease, for lack of ``incentive,'' and universal laziness will overtake us.

According to this, there ought to have been no music, art, technology, or learning before the advent of the bourgeoisie, which alone conceived of subjecting the entirety of knowledge and culture to the cash nexus. Faced with the advent of free production and free technology, with free software, and with the resulting development of free distribution technology, this argument simply denies the visible and unanswerable facts. Fact is subordinated to dogma, in which the arrangements that briefly characterized intellectual production and cultural distribution during the short heyday of the bourgeoisie are said, despite the evidence of both past and present, to be the only structures possible.

Thus we say to the owners: The misconception that induces you to transform into eternal laws of nature and of reason, the social forms springing from your present mode of production and form of property--historical relations that rise and disappear in the progress of production--this misconception you share with every ruling class that has preceded you. What you see clearly in the case of ancient property, what you admit in the case of feudal property, you are of course forbidden to admit in the case of your own bourgeois form of property.

Our theoretical conclusions are in no way based on ideas or principles that have been invented, or discovered, by this or that would-be universal reformer. They merely express, in general terms, actual relations springing from an existing class struggle, from a historical movement going on under our very eyes.

When people speak of ideas that revolutionise society, they do but express the fact, that within the old society, the elements of a new one have been created, and that the dissolution of the old ideas keeps even pace with the dissolution of the old conditions of existence.

We, the creators of the free information society, mean to wrest from the bourgeoisie, by degrees, the shared patrimony of humankind. We intend the resumption of the cultural inheritance stolen from us under the guise of ``intellectual property,'' as well as the medium of electromagnetic transportation. We are committed to the struggle for free speech, free knowledge, and free technology. The measures by which we advance that struggle will of course be different in different countries, but the following will be pretty generally applicable:

Abolition of all forms of private property in ideas.

Withdrawal of all exclusive licenses, privileges and rights to use of electromagnetic spectrum. Nullification of all conveyances of permanent title to electromagnetic frequencies.

Development of electromagnetic spectrum infrastructure that implements every person's equal right to communicate.

Common social development of computer programs and all other forms of software, including genetic information, as public goods.

Full respect for freedom of speech, including all forms of technical speech.

Protection for the integrity of creative works.

Free and equal access to all publicly-produced information and all educational material used in all branches of the public education system.

By these and other means, we commit ourselves to the revolution that liberates the human mind. In overthrowing the system of private property in ideas, we bring into existence a truly just society, in which the free development of each is the condition for the free development of all.

 — Eben Moglen, January 2003, The dotCommunist Manifesto

[littlemisssquiggles]

Ruby could get kidnapped in V8 but with everything going on V9 will need to be something less stressful. Still I would be down for Oscar and Ruby reuniting and THEN talking about the trauma together. V8 though I do want self-reflection since Oscar is basically back in V4 status(all alone with Ozpin). Along with Ruby wondering what more she has to sacrifice whether it be Oscar or her life like her mom.

On the contrary Ghost; with the way things are going now with the events of the Atlas Trilogy, I feel like the showrunners are just going to keep upping the stakes. So perhaps Ruby being kidnapped for the next volume wouldn't be too bad of an occurrence.

I mean I've been an advocate for Ruby becoming a prisoner of Salem along with Oscar since V5. Salem has been interested in capturing Ruby since V4 and it wouldn't surprise me if she'll have her eyes set on capturing Oscar too; especially since she knows that Oz has been reincarnated.

As I was telling @crystalandbrass, what if…in V8, as a reverse parallel to V4, Tyrian Callows is once again sent to retrieve Ruby. In my interpretation of this hunch, I imagined Tyrian leading his own faction of Winged Beringels to ambush and overpower an unsuspecting Ruby who just happened to be out alone in Mantle with only Qrow as her company.

In the Wizard of Oz story, it was said that the Scarecrow was almost destroyed by the flying monkeys when they came to capture Dorothy Gale. So what if…we got a RWBY equivalent to that moment in which Qrow is overpowered by Winged Beringels and forced to look on helplessly as Tyrian relinquishes an unconscious Ruby Rose over to a Winged Beringel which takes her away to Salem.

Meanwhile, Tyrian stays behind to finish off Qrow only for the Branwen man to be saved in the nick of time by Jaune, Nora and Ren arriving to aid him; much like how he had come to their aid back in Anima in V4.

I quite like the concept of Ruby becoming Salem’s prisoner by the conclusion of V8. Perhaps this could lead into what some of Rosegardening Pineheads and Rosegardeners have been itching to see---a scene in which Oscar comes to Ruby’s rescue to parallel all the times she has protected and looked out for him over the past few seasons. I think it could be a neat moment for Oscar if he ended up challenging Salem to save Ruby.

Perhaps…we could even see my ole Oscar the Golden Cap Pinehead headcanon coming to fruition too with Oscar becoming so great and powerful in his magical abilities that he’s able to use his power to take control of Salem’s Winged Beringels (see my Oscar’s Luxx Pinehead headcanon right here)

In the Wizard of Oz story, the Wicked Witch was only able to control the flying monkeys through the power of the Golden Cap---a cursed magical artifact that allowed its wielder to control the flying monkeys at least three times.

Although Salem is the creator of the Winged Beringels on the RWBY universe, she did so via the power of the Grimm Pools and her own magic.

Therefore, this squiggle meister thinks it would be a really neatorrific magic trick to see Oscar use the power he inherited from Ozma that he has come to make his own during his time with Ozpin to take control of the Winged Beringels; making him the RWBY version of the Golden Cap.

Gold is in his name after all and much like the Golden Cap from Oz, Oscar is a vessel of magic. Just saying.

I mean, I doubt we’d actually see anything like that for V8 but it would’ve been something cool. As a Rosegardening Pinehead, I really love the thought of Oscar immediately daring to challenge Salem on his own upon learning that she has Ruby.

I can definitely see this being a possibility, particularly in the event that part of Oscar’s story and development for V8 would be the young huntsman coming to terms with the importance of Ruby to him; mimicking how his fairy tale counterpart---the little prince---came to revere his beloved true rose.

Perhaps it’s even a case where Salem uses Ruby to lure out Oscar. Imagine if… Salem ends up capturing Oscar by forcing him to surrender himself over to her as a means of protecting Ruby.

Or…as an alternative to that, imagine if…Oscar sacrifices himself for Ruby’s sake. Like it’s a case in which Oscar gives Salem an ultimatum in which he trades his life and freedom to become Salem’s willing prisoner in exchange for Ruby’s salvation. Basically picture a moment in which Oscar boldly proposes for Salem to imprison him and do whatever she desires to him--- torture him for the rest of his days, even kill him---in that moment, the little prince was willing to lay his life at the mercy of the wicked witch so long as no harm came to his rose as part of their deal or exchange.

Equivalent exchange, am I right?

Kind of like how Azlan surrendered himself to be “killed” by the Ice Queen in place of Edmund Pevensie in the Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,

Bruh, imagine if…we got a scenario where Ruby is left unconscious for most of the finale after being poisoned by Tyrian and by the time the Silver Eyed Rose regains consciousness, she awakens to her allies begrudgingly informing her of Oscar’s sacrifice for her. Imagine a scenario in which for the majority of V8, Ruby and Oscar never truly reunite. Even though we spent more of the story with Oscar fighting to get back to his friends and Ruby; in the end it’s a case where they still don’t get to see each other or rather; Ruby never gets to see Oscar again since he gave himself to Salem for her sake. Thus, Ruby has to live with Oscar making that sacrifice for her and her mistakes this time.

Y’know what I realized---much like Ozpin (and by extension Ozma and all the Wizards in his cycle), Oscar has become the proverbial martyr to constantly pay the price for others actions even when he attempts to rectify them.

Between V5-V7, Oscar was mainly chastised because of Ozpin’s actions and past mistakes. He became an immediate foe to Hazel Rainart who he was forced to combat due to his beef with Ozpin concerning his sister. He was punched by Qrow (technically while Oz was in control but Oscar still felt the aftermath of that) out of the bird man’s anger and frustration towards Oz for the lies he told him and others. And just last season, Oscar literally got shot and sent to his presumed death by Ironwood for trying to correct mistakes made by both his predecessor and his allies.

And what’s worse about that is that Oscar had no say in any of that. He more or less just has to accept punishment for the actions of others whether he liked it or not. 

So imagine if…for another time---presumably the last time--- Oscar makes himself a martyr; paying the price for Ruby---only this time, it’s his choice to give himself up for the girl he loves. 

Doesn’t that sound like an interesting plot point to see? Perhaps this could be another way for Ruby to see the weight of her own actions and mistakes in a way.

In the Lost Princess of Oz story, I recall Princess Ozma being captured with her best friend (and closest confidant) Dorothy Gale being the one to lead a rescue party to save her. This is why I’ve been more inclined towards Oscar becoming Salem’s prisoner with Ruby the one to ultimately save him as his closest companion and potential love interest. I still like this possibility very much. 

Then again, this could also easily go the the opposite direction in which both Ruby and Oscar become unwilling prisoners of Salem. While in captivity, Salem makes sure to keep both smaller, more honest souls apart in order to play off of their bond and devotion to one another and sort of maliciously manipulate and torment them into submitting to her will. That’s another possibility that I like.

The way how I see it, V9 could potentially be a standalone Dark Domain season where either Oscar is captured by Salem after sacrificing himself for Ruby leading to her leading their allies into the Land of Darkness in order to rescue the imprisoned little prince or….it could be about Ruby and Oscar dealing with being prisoners of Salem.

For me, my money will always more be on Oscar becoming Salem’s prisoner especially if he does it in Ruby’s place because I still love my headcanon of Oscar becoming the Boy in the Lonely Tower with Salem imprisoning him in a castle of solitude like how she was first locked away before Ozma found her. I still love that theory.

But who knows. Neither of this ideas could become a thing, as far as I know. Even if the CRWBY Writers mentioned something along the lines of reading fan’s comments for certain things to happen for certain characters, I highly doubt any of em would lend to any of this squiggly Pinehead’s million and one headcanons. As always, these are only my theories, thoughts and ideas for things for RWBY.

Either way, I will say that I do think that something big could potentially go down for both Ruby and Oscar respectively next volume.

I do think we could get that self-reflection on Oscar’s part like you want Ghost---I’m just unsure how it will work given the whole 1-2 days’ timeline. Given the fact that Oz has been gone for probably a month or some weeks since the heroes got to Atlas, it would’ve been better to see more time pass in the story in order to make Oscar and Oz’s bond growing within that time more believable, y’know what I mean? At least for me. This is just my opinion here.

I mean I guess I can look at it from the perspective for their bond being forced to grow faster due to the emergency of Salem’s arrival OR….perhaps V8 could only be the start of Oscar and Oz finally learning to coexist with one another and in the event that Oscar does indeed become Salem’s prisoner---if he’s captured, that will prove the PLOT more time to have Oscar bond with Oz since for a second time, the young boy will be all alone with only Oz as his companion. That could be something. 

But who knows, y;know? I guess we’ll only know once more news of the next season drops, I suppose. In the meantime, I hope I was able to answer you, Ghost. Let me know if I did, please. 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)  

[dashoftime]

Star Trek Disco Prologue

CBS will air Season 1 of Star Trek: Discovery starting this Thursday at 10/9c.

Before the season begins, a Tribble Triple Feature! Each of these episodes are available on Netflix, Hulu, or CBS All Access. Probably Amazon too, but I didn’t check ‘cause truly is there anything less utopian than Amazon?

TOS 2x15 “The Trouble with Tribbles” TAS 1x05 “More Tribbles, More Troubles” DS9 5x06 “Trials and Tribble-ations”

Star Trek launched in September 1966. Writer Gene Roddenberry had pitched the series as a western set in outer space. But he also wanted to comment upon current events, like war and sex and religion, without attracting the ire of network censors. Season 2′s “The Trouble with Tribbles” lays out a lot of the core ideals of Star Trek that carry over the decades.

The characters hail from different backgrounds, collaborating to solve big problems — in this case, an ecological crisis. Despite their varied perspectives, they share camaraderie, respect, and a surprising amount of snark. They’re also very competent, but that doesn’t prevent disasters from happening, or the crew from simply making mistakes. This isn’t a show about space. This is a show about people who work in space.

And the people out there aren’t all friendly. We meet some adversarial aliens, namely the Klingons. We’re told they’re ferocious, brutal warriors — but Koloth actually seems quite cordial and crafty, less like a warrior and more like a spy. Rather than wage open war, they genetically modify one of their own to appear human. Which is pretty silly, ‘cause the budget constraints of the ’60s mean that Klingons already look human! These aliens seem remarkably familiar and accessible. The far more frustrating adversaries are self-important administrators like Nils Barris, or destructive capitalists like Cyrano Jones.

Star Trek features flawed heroes, frustrating villains... and a lot of moralizing. Uhura advocates on behalf of the tribbles, saying they’re “the only love money can buy.” Kirk retorts, “Too much of anything, even love, isn’t necessarily a good thing.” The bold colors and witty quips can make the morals feel reductive, even cartoonish. But for me, that’s kind of the point. Star Trek presents ethics and philosophy in a simple, accessible way. I won’t claim they’re right 100% of the time, and some of its attitudes shift over the decades — but even this early on, Star Trek stands for harmony, cooperation, and inclusion. And those are perspectives that should be cartoonishly simple.

Speaking of cartoons, I took a swing with “More Tribbles, More Troubles.” I’m curious how people feel about the pacing and the primitive animation. This is one of the funnier and more action-packed episodes of The Animated Series. If folks tell me they struggled with it, I’ll cut the remaining handful of cartoons from the schedule.

I’m tickled that they bring Cyrano Jones and Koloth back; and that writer David Gerrold returns, building upon the tribbles’ previous ecological threat by introducing an ineffective predator, the glommer. I also just really enjoy the gag of Kirk repeatedly shoving an ever-growing tribble out of his chair.

Once again, the Klingons are up to crafty business, slowing down the Enterprise with an immobilizing ray and targeting some drone ships. We see more space combat than we did in live action, but it’s still more strategic than open warfare. And again, I suspect it’s a budget issue — the recycled shots of photon torpedoes suggest more action would’ve been too expensive. The result is that the Klingons just don’t seem that ferocious yet. Ultimately Koloth doesn’t even want to punish Cyrano Jones, he just wants his useless science experiment back.

So let’s see how the Klingons change over the decades! Thirty years after the original series, Deep Space Nine uses time travel to explore Star Trek’s history. “Trials and Tribble-ations” was a 30th anniversary celebration for Star Trek, utilizing the same technology that inserted Tom Hanks into historical footage for Forrest Gump.

Integrating two versions of Star Trek across time poses some aesthetic and continuity challenges.

The Klingons of ’90s Star Trek have a much more elaborate make-up design — forehead ridges, wigs, sharpened teeth, etc. They also act more ferocious than the old Klingons. So when 24th-century Klingon Worf shares the screen with the budget-constrained 23rd-century Klingons, fan culture almost demands an explanation. This anniversary episode obliges with a throwaway joke: “It is a long story, and we do not discuss it with outsiders.”

Not every aspect of style needs an onscreen explanation. “Trials and Tribble-ations” was lucky that its visual style adapted so well to the classic series. TOS (The Original Series) and DS9 both used a square 1:33:1 aspect ratio, ’cause that was the shape of everyone’s TV. The DS9 production crew built retro sets, mimicked the same lighting, and were able to insert their actors into the original shots.

This technique is no longer possible, because the technology we use to make TV has changed so much. Even the shape of the frame is different -- we’ve all got widescreen TVs now. If 21st century Trek wants to revisit its past, it must fundamentally re-conceive how those spaces are constructed, lit, and framed.

In 1996, Star Trek was free to engage with nostalgia, caressing its old tricorders and uniforms, admiring it old performances and sets, even reliving the same story points. There’s a certain degree of pleasure and comfort to this, but it makes me a little nervous.

Roddenberry intended for Star Trek to comment upon the world we live in. While “The Trouble with Tribbles” is a comedy about ecological dangers, “Trials and Tribble-ations” is simply a comedy about old Star Trek. It’s a much more limited perspective. And it’s a limited perspective that’s broadly affected pop culture for the past twenty years.

Since 2000, we’ve seen a huge rise in reboots and origin stories. (eg. Batman Begins, Casino Royale, Battlestar Galactica, Man of Steel, etc.) We usually hear that studios only trust audiences to pay for something familiar. I’d like to frame it more charitably and say, in the wake of 9/11, we’re collectively reviewing the stories that defined our culture and deciding which values and lessons are still relevant to us. Star Trek did this too.

In 2001, we got the prequel series Enterprise. 100 years before Kirk and Spock, it follows a pioneer crew on an experimental ship called Enterprise. Season 2 invokes 9/11 when an alien attack destroys Florida, and the grieving crew embark on a mission of vengeance. It was a way to comment on the invasion of Afghanistan. By season 4, the current events commentary was replaced by stories to revisit Star Trek’s lore, including a two-parter to explain Worf’s throwaway joke in “Trials and Tribble-ations” about Klingon appearances.

After Enterprise ended, we got the J.J. Abrams reboot movies, which tell an alternate origin story for Kirk and his classic crew. In the 2009 movie, an alien attack destroys the planet Vulcan, and a grieving Spock seeks vengeance.  He’s still grieving in Into Darkness, but gets distracted by a character from Star Trek’s past...

If all Star Trek can do is comment upon itself, it’s no longer serving its purpose. Star Trek must be aware of the cultural, economic, and political challenges we face, and it needs to offer a vision for how we could overcome them.

We’re about to begin Star Trek: Discovery, a show drenched with contemporary awareness and semiotic significance. It takes place 90 years after Enterprise, 10 years before Kirk, and therefore has a peculiar relationship with time — both within its story, and within our world beyond the show. Discovery is Star Trek finally breaking free of its origins and serving the purpose Trek should: envisioning a way forward into a utopian future where there’s space and freedom for us all.

[sweetsmellosuccess]

Sundance 2021: Day 3

Films: 4 Best Film of the Day(s): Cryptozoo

Playing With Sharks: Valerie Taylor and her late husband Ron were pioneering shark conservationists for the last four decades, paving the way for protected marine parks in Australia and helping to create a different perception of sharks. As Sally Aitken’s doc on Valerie’s life and times suggests, however, the Taylors were also paying something of a penance: First, for all the spearfishing they had done in their teens and 20s (Ron was a world champion); later, for playing a significant role in helping Jaws achieve some of its underwater shark scenes. As a result of that film’s supernova success, sharks became one of the most egregiously hunted species in the world for decades (one conservationist in the film explains that after 100 million sharks were killed for twenty years  —  a result of macho big game hunting, yes, but far much more for their lucrative fins, which go on to make the soup considered a delicacy in China  —  only 10% of the world shark population still exists), leaving the Taylor’s favorite filming subject in dire peril. Aitken’s film, loaded with wondrous footage  —  a benefit of Valerie’s being in the public eye, and working as marine oceanographers for most of their lives  —  charts the evolution of Valerie’s relationship with the animals in the sea, and displays her fearless brand of adventuring along the way (Ron dubbed her “Give it a Go Valerie” for her willingness to put her life on the line). Now 85, we also watch her travel to Fiji for a dive amongst a newly replenished population of bull sharks, aided greatly by her, and other conservationist organizations, working to end the shark genocide. For this Jaws aficionado  —  an animal advocate myself, like the Taylors, I have to acknowledge the harm the film did to marine ecology in my devotion  —  watching the couple film their notable live shark scenes in Spielberg’s monster movie opus was a thrill, but watching the couple’s dedication to their cause in subsequent years is far more significant.

On the Count of Three: It seems like a great idea to start a film with a pair of best friends holding up guns to each other’s heads in a suicide pact, only to go into extended flashback and retrace what led to this moment right before they pull the trigger, but that’s precisely where things begin to go awry for screenwriters Ryan Welch and Ari Katcher. In comedian Jerrod Carmichael’s feature debut, the two friends, Kevin (Christopher Abbott), and Val (Carmichael) have a long history of helping each other through their respective childhood traumas  —  Kevin was abused by one of his therapists; Val had a physically abusive father  —  so they mean to come to this moment in a sort of full-circle act of final friendship, but then various sillinesses intervene to extend the day into a series of escalating incidents until finally things go too far to simply go back as they were. A cross between an unrealized dark comedy (much humor is derived from Kevin’s “horrible” taste in music, including a far too on-the-nose track from Papa Roach concerning actual suicide), and unbelievable drama (driving around in a bright yellow jeep, with Kevin wearing practically a technicolor dreamcoat, it’s impossible that the pair wouldn’t have been arrested almost immediately), the film gets decent mileage out of its pair of leads, who share a solid rapport, but never seems to find its footing enough to make much of an impact otherwise.

Cryptozoo: In his zoom video intro to the film, writer/director Dash Shaw appears through a kaleidoscope filter, a fitting visual enhancement for the trippy animated film he’s created. Painstakingly hand-drawing the cells, which gives the film a much less fluid but appreciably personalized appearance, he’s crafted an engaging story about cryptids  —  mythical creatures, from gorgons, manticores, and chimeras, to unicorns, pegasuses, and a baku  —  being kept by a kindly woman (voice of Grace Zabriske) in a secret park in order to keep them safe from outside forces. Tracking down the creatures from opposing sides are Lauren (Lake Bell), a fiercely determined woman, whose childhood was saved by a nightmare-eating baku when she was a child; and an evil-minded capitalist (voice of Jason Schwartzman), who has a mind to sell the creatures to the military. Trippy it most certainly is, but the story remains solidly coherent  —  imagine a kind of Jurassic Park but with a kraken, and a lot more peculiar nudity  —  which keeps it beguilingly grounded, despite its fantastical imagery and thematics. As an analogy for how it is mankind has lost all instinct and contact with the magical realm  —  well, beyond the MCU, and LOTR, and all the movie series that have made billions of dollars on the idea  —  but, also, a treatise on what happens when even our best intentions turn out to be misguided.

Eight For Silver: Sean Ellis’ werewolf movie tarts itself up a bit with 19th century gothic imagery and a steady atmospheric gloom, but the script, which Ellis also wrote, can’t escape most of the worst cliches of the genre, and its earnestness alone can’t keep it from being pretty insipid. Alistair Petrie plays a wealthy landowner named Seamus Laurent. When a group of Roma come to settle on his land, which they (rightfully, it turns out) claim as their own, he and the other nearby landowners pay a posse of mercenaries to eviscerate them as cruelly as possible. As a result, Seamus and his family, wife, Isabelle (Kelly Reilly), daughter, Charlotte (Amelia Crouch), and son, Edward (Max Mackintosh) are put under an ancient curse. Many predictable things happen from there involving a pair of silver, canine-like teeth, innocent people being gored by some mysterious creature, and lots of arterial sprays of blood (Ellis seems to have a penchant for them, as well as for severed limbs  —  I lost count of how many hands and feet were forcibly removed from their trunks). When a pathologist (Boyd Holbrook) comes to investigate, he puts all the pieces together, but not enough of the landed gentry listen to him in time to save themselves from their appointed maulings. Shot in the French countryside, the film has a grand palette with which to work, but too much time is spent establishing things that seem perfectly obvious, and the script is riddled with peculiar anachronisms (“Me, neither,” one character says in response to someone being unable to sleep) that keep throwing off its calculations. It’s trying hard, but simply isn’t made carefully enough, or with enough originality, to have it rise above its B-movie sort of station.

Sundance goes mostly virtual for this year’s edition, sparing filmgoers the altitude, long waits, standing lines, and panicked eating binges  —  but also, these things and more that make the festival so damn endearing. In any event, Sundance via living room is still a hell of a lot better than no Sundance. A daily report.

[yandere-society]

Please do a yandere! Sugar daddy au where the OC does not need them anymore. Thanks 💜💜💜

Admin/Writer- Chinkbihh

Trigger warnings- yandere, manipulating, invasion of privacy

Words- 2.3k

Postponing a Farewell

You had to hurry.  

The alarm and frenzy that rushed through your body in reckless waves was reminiscent of a prey trying to outrun a predator.  

You supposed this situation wasn’t that much different either.  

God only knows what would happen if you slowed down enough for him to catch you.  

Clothes?  Check. Money?  Check. 

You bit your lip and went over the mental checklist once more, pacing wildly in the master bedroom and keeping one paranoid eye on the time.  

If your escape plan went well, then you should be able to leave about an hour before he got back home from work.  That should be plenty of time to cover enough ground between the two of you. Or at least keep him away from you until he would eventually give up given your head start.

If he would ever give up.

You pushed that doomful thought to the back of your mind and tried your best to focus on the task at hand.

You just needed to grab some hygiene products and the little possessions` you would be able to shove into your mini suitcase.  

You ran into the marble granite bathroom, shaky hands grasping for your toothbrush and other necessities.  

However a sound caused you to halt your frantic scavenging.

The familiar ring of the front door to the luxury condo being opened caused your heart to drop.  

He was here.  

There was a time when you would have been thrilled to hear of Namjoon’s arrival.  

But there was no joy to feel this time.

You were frozen in place as you heard his weighted footsteps beckon closer and closer, the terrorising sound echoed within the expensive dwelling that was empty besides the two of you.  

Despite the walls that separated you and muffled the noise...you could still hear him loud and clear.  

You couldn’t bring yourself to move.  

Namjoon’s presence alone was paralyzing.  And it was closing in on you at rapid speed.

So you stayed still, awaiting the domineering man with the pathetic will power of a cornered animal.  

“Y/n?”  his baritone voice called out, the closeness of the sound hinted that he was now in the bedroom the was connected to the bathroom you were in currently in.

Your mouth wouldn’t move to respond.  

A few seconds later he materialized in the doorway, sculpted face showcasing confusion and some relief for having found you.  

That relief was quickly melted off his face when he quite literally caught you red-handed.  

It was obvious what was happening, the panic was in your eyes and the items in your hand only confirmed his suspicions that without a doubt formed when he saw your suitcase on the bed.

You were trying to leave him.  

Namjoon’s face was a beauty within itself.  It’s oval shape was the canvas for his dusky and gold tinted pores, sat upon it were his features; strong and prominent from his plush lips to his downturned yet long and regal nose.  His eyes were always somewhat hooded, confident and smoldering as his raven orbs bored intensely into whatever he set his brilliant mind to focus upon. Above those two eyes, were darkly arched eyebrows that naturally took on a shapely nature.  

He was wearing a suit, as was his custom, and glasses that he often relied on after staring too long at the pixelated screen of the computer in his office.  His black tie was loose and untucked around his neck, revealing his frustration as he must’ve pulled at it in response to aggravation.

But...Namjoon didn’t get aggravated.  

It was one of his traits.

He got clever.

His expression was indifferent as he took one step closer to you, eyes never leaving your hands and the objects they held.  

He was a very intelligent man, very little got past him.  Of course, this too wouldn’t be any different.

He arched a brow.  

“....and just what do you think you’re doing?”  

You opened your mouth to answer the alpha-like man, but the words got jumbled in your throat causing you to release stupid splutters.  

How could you be expected to explain that you were just going to flee him without explanation?  That was a sure deathwish. Yet, lying was also out of the question….

The silence suffocated the room for another moment, neither of you willing to make a sound or move too hastily.  

Then he spoke,  “I sure hope you weren’t trying to leave me baby.  Because that’s what it looks like.”

You shook your head crazily out of instinct, although the dread in your eyes told another story.

Namjoon grinned, although this sentiment didn’t reach the inky seriousness of his eyes.  

“Well….I want to believe you but the suitcase on our bed sure is damning.”  He purred, stepping closer with a mock thoughtfulness as if he was a parent lecturing a child.  

You licked your lips as cold sweat gathered on your forehead, shaky orbs glancing at the doorway that he was blocking with his much larger frame.  You hadn’t planned for this to happen, you had planned leaving a letter or a text for him to read after you had left. But suddenly your throat was coated with sticky tar given you couldn’t form the words you needed to say now that he was staring at you, eyes almost begging you to give him a reason to snap.  

But, you couldn’t let him get to you.

You had to advocate for yourself.  Because if you didn’t, no one else would and you’d be left with Namjoon for as long as he’d like (forever).  

Despite it being the farthest emotion you felt, you slapped on a brave face.

“N-Namjoon, I think this arrangement needs to end.”  

He chuckled at this and casually leaned against the doorway, as if he was preparing to be there for a while.  “And why is that? That’s kind of a big decision for a small babe like you to make all by herself.”

Your brow ticked in annoyance at him calling you too young and stupid for you to make choices on your own.  

“That’s why Namjoon!  You always degrade me and treat me like a child!  I know I call you ‘daddy’ sometimes but it’s not okay for you to literally treat me like a 5 year old.  I’m a grown woman-”

“A grown woman that is dependent on me because you cannot take care of yourself.”  Namjoon interrupted, voice smug.

You scoffed and glared at him.  “That’s low.”

“How so?  I didn’t say there’s anything wrong with that.  I enjoy being your sugar daddy and it’s a mutually beneficial relationship.  It would be idiotic to end it all over nothing.”

“Namjoon I think you have serious issues.  It’s not healthy how you treat me.” You weakly confessed.  He just quirked a brow in signal for you to elaborate. “You have me under constant surveillance and won’t let me talk to anyone you deem ‘untrustworthy’.  You freaked out when I had a study date with someone because you’re so obsessed with me only relying on you for everything! I live in fear that you’ll snap at me just for looking at someone too long.  It’s borderline insane.”

He stood there for a moment, staring at you with a odd gleam in his eyes as your words and heavy breathing penetrated the walls of the bathroom.  

Then he chuckled in that deep voice of his.  

“You take one psychology class in college and think you’re a qualified enough to call people insane.  Trust me, you haven’t seen crazy.”

Your jaw dropped at the sheer disrespect.  He literally just downplayed your entire argument as if your thoughts were too immature for him to even bother considering for a second.  He was past the point of reasoning and it terrified you just as much as it angered you.

You didn’t care that he was blocking your way to the door, you briskly pushed him aside as you ran into the conjucting bedroom while tears blurred your vision.  You had to get out of here….he was not only crazy….he was a narcissist.

“Where are you going to go Y/n?”  He called out from behind you. “Who is going to take care of you while paying for your classes at the same time?”   

You were rushing and shoving the last of your belongings into the suitcase.  “My parents reached out and said I can stay with them.”

You didn’t know why you answered him, it’s not like he deserved a response.  But you didn’t want prove him right by letting him think you were just a child who was storming out and ‘running away’ without a plan.  

You heard footsteps sound behind you as he approached the side of the bed, watching your accelerated packing with a look of confusion.  “Your parents? Y/n….they can barely take care of themselves, much less you.”

Your breath hitched as the subject of your parents was brought up.  Your mother and father were not rich in any means, and when you left for college; it was completely up to you to support yourself.  But a shitty part time job wasn’t helping much, especially since you were a full time student so your availability for work hours was very limited.  That’s how you met Namjoon. You had a friend who said she would hang out with this guy she met through a sugar daddy website and get a weekly allowance in return.  You were envious of this and thought it was worth a shot, so you signed up for the same site and met Namjoon through it. He was by far the most handsome and wealthy man on the platform, so of course you responded to his messages.  But slowly you became more and more dependent on him and he became a weird hybrid between a boyfriend and a sugar daddy to you.

You told Namjoon about your parent’s lack of wealth, and he spoiled you in an effort to make up for what your parents were never able to give to you.  (Also he just loved doing it anyway.) But it didn’t take long until you began to notice his odd compulsion of needing you to only depend on him and no one else.  And whenever you tried to bring it up to him, he would always condescend you and your thoughts before shutting the whole observation down all together.

“I rather stay with them than you right now Namjoon.  I’ll pick up a job if I have to but nothing is worth staying.”  You told him while zipping up your suitcase

You felt Namjoon wrap his arms around you and rest his head upon your shoulder, brushing his nose against your neckline.  “Y/n, I don’t know how I feel about you staying with them. Remember when you visited for Christmas and their power went out because they couldn’t pay the bill?  That’s no place for you baby. At least with me you wouldn’t have to worry about trivial stuff like that.”

You huffed.  “It’s not like that anymore, Joon.  Mom said she got a new job and they’re doing better.”  

“They could be doing better just because it’s only two of them right now.  But if you move in and they have another mouth to feed….are you sure they could support you?”  

You froze because Namjoon did have a good point, he was a lawyer after all and he argued like one.  You knew your mother got a better job but it still didn’t pay that well given they were barely over the poverty line.  

Namjoon tightened his hold on you and nuzzled you before whispering into your ear;

“Listen, I know I can be a bit….possessive but I promise that’s an issue I can work on.  But just because you’re mad at me right now doesn’t mean you should up and leave to abandon all the stability I have given you so far.  If you really need to be on your own for a bit, let me get you a hotel room where I’ll at least know you’re getting the shelter, food and comfort you need.”

You sighed as you began to feel his distinctive lips nibble on your neck with precision towards your weak spots.  You were melting like butter on toast as this man manipulated you like it was the only thing he knew how to do.

“I-I….you promise me you’ll work on your attitude?”  You asked, voice foreign sounding given the distraction of the pleasure you were receiving.  

“Of course.  Now, text your parents and let them know that you will stay at a hotel instead.”  He purred.

Well…..technically it wasn’t that bad of deal.  

You would get the space you needed while you and Namjoon would work through your relationship problems.  Plus he could continue to fund you so you could focus on your studies, a luxury you probably wouldn’t get if you went to live with your parents.  

You nodded your head and reached for your phone to send the text.  

When all was said and done, Namjoon suggested going out for lunch before taking you to whatever 5-star hotel he deemed fit for your stay.  You agreed due to your hunger and went to exit the room to head to the garage. Namjoon reached into his pockets and handed you the keys before telling you to start up the car because he had to use the bathroom.  

Only when he heard your footsteps descend down the hallway did he allow himself to smirk.  

So you really thought that you were a grown woman?  

How laughable.  

Namjoon still found it hilarious how you didn’t question why he left early from work coincidentally at the same time you were preparing to leave.  

Namjoon crossed the bedroom and approached the bookshelf pushed to the corner, he bent down and quietly tapped the hidden camera between the books ‘Lolita’ and ‘The Beautiful and the Damned.’  

It was perhaps the smartest purchase he ever made, given it allowed him to keep tabs on you at all times and you still haven’t suspected anything.  Namjoon quickly repositioned the camera to ensure it’s secrecy before standing up and exiting the room to follow you.

He would always have the head start.  

(So this was kinda….idk lemme know what you thought.  Namjoon is daddy to me and I think he would be very manipulative instead of being a very loud yandere. Comment below and thanks for reading - chinkbihh)