#ts eliot is mentioned

[jesuisgourde]

A list of all the books mentioned in Peter Doherty's journals (and in some interviews/lyrics, too)

Because I just made this list in answer to someone's question on a facebook group, I thought I may as well post it here.

-The Picture of Dorian Gray/The Ballad Of Reading Gaol/Salome/The Happy Prince/The Duchess of Padua, all by Oscar Wilde -The Thief's Journal/Our Lady Of The Flowers/Miracle Of The Rose, all by Jean Genet -A Diamond Guitar by Truman Capote -Mixed Essays by Matthew Arnold -Venus In Furs by Leopold Sacher-Masoch -The Ministry Of Fear by Graham Greene -Brighton Rock by Graham Green -A Season in Hell by Arthur Rimbaud -The Street Of Crocodiles (aka Cinnamon Shops) by Bruno Schulz -Opium: The Diary Of His Cure by Jean Cocteau -The Lost Weekend by Charles Jackson -Howl by Allen Ginsberg -Women In Love by DH Lawrence -The Tempest by William Shakespeare -Trilby by George du Maurier -The Vision Of Jean Genet by Richard Coe -"Literature And The Crisis" by Isaiah Berlin -Le Cid by Pierre Corneille -The Paris Peasant by Louis Aragon -Junky by William S Burroughs -Absolute Beginners by Colin MacInnes -Futz by Rochelle Owens -They Shoot Horses Don't They? by Horace McCoy -"An Inquiry On Love" by La revolution surrealiste magazine -Idea by Michael Drayton -"The Nymph's Reply to The Shepherd" by Sir Walter Raleigh -Hamlet by William Shakespeare -The Silver Shilling/The Old Church Bell/The Snail And The Rose Tree all by Hans Christian Andersen -120 Days Of Sodom by Marquis de Sade -Letters To A Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke -Poetics Of Space by Gaston Bachelard -In Favor Of The Sensitive Man and Other Essays by Anais Nin -La Batarde by Violette LeDuc -Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov -Intimate Journals by Charles Baudelaire -Juno And The Paycock by Sean O'Casey -England Is Mine by Michael Bracewell -"The Prelude" by William Wordsworth -Noise: The Political Economy of Music by Jacques Atalli -"Elm" by Sylvia Plath -"I am pleased with my sight..." by Rumi -She Stoops To Conquer by Oliver Goldsmith -Amphitryon by John Dryden -Oscar Wilde by Richard Ellman -The Song Of The South by James Rennell Rodd -In Her Praise by Robert Graves -"For That He Looked Not Upon Her" by George Gascoigne -"Order And Disorder" by Lucy Hutchinson -Man Crazy by Joyce Carol Oates -A Pictorial History Of Sex In The Movies by Jeremy Pascall and Clyde Jeavons -Anarchy State & Utopia by Robert Nozick -"Limbo" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge -Men In Love: Masculinity and Sexuality in the Eighteenth Century by George Haggerty

[arbitrary line break because tumble hates lists apparently]

-Crime And Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky -Innocent When You Dream: the Tom Waits Reader -"Identity Card" by Mahmoud Darwish -Ulysses by James Joyce -The Four Quartets poems by TS Eliot -Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare -A'Rebours/Against The Grain by Joris-Karl Huysmans -Prisoner Of Love by Jean Genet -Down And Out In Paris And London by George Orwell -The Man With The Golden Arm by Nelson Algren -Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates -"Epitaph To A Dog" by Lord Byron -Cocaine Nights by JG Ballard -"Not By Bread Alone" by James Terry White -Anecdotes Of The Late Samuel Johnson by Hester Thrale -"The Owl And The Pussycat" by Edward Lear -"Chevaux de bois" by Paul Verlaine -A Strong Song Tows Us: The Life of Basil Bunting by Richard Burton -Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes -The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri -The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling -The Man Who Would Be King by Rudyard Kipling -Ask The Dust by John Frante -On The Trans-Siberian Railways by Blaise Cendrars -The 39 Steps by John Buchan -The Overcoat by Nikolai Gogol -The Government Inspector by Nikolai Gogol -The Iliad by Homer -Heart Of Darkness by Joseph Conrad -The Volunteer by Shane O'Doherty -Twenty Love Poems and A Song Of Despair by Pablo Neruda -"May Banners" by Arthur Rimbaud -Literary Outlaw: The life and times of William S Burroughs by Ted Morgan -The Penguin Dorothy Parker -Smoke by William Faulkner -Hero And Leander by Christopher Marlowe -My Lady Nicotine by JM Barrie -All I Ever Wrote by Ronnie Barker -The Libertine by Stephen Jeffreys -On Murder Considered As One Of The Fine Arts by Thomas de Quincey -The Void Ratio by Shane Levene and Karolina Urbaniak -The Remains Of The Day by Kazuo Ishiguro -Dead Fingers Talk by William S Burroughs -The England's Dreaming Tapes by Jon Savage -London Underworld by Henry Mayhew

[bcacstuff]

Exploring the Hunku - By Jake Norton (part 2)

When you find a field of sunpati, enjoy it!

Peak 41 rises sharply above Kongme Dingma.

Winds abated, and we spent a stunning day alternating between rest and relaxation, fueling up with copious water and calories, handwashing clothes in icy streams and ourselves as well if we could stand it. Sam, Tshering, and I also spent a couple hours playing on a nearby ice flow, fixing a rope and practicing Sam’s technique with crampons and ice ax, ascending a line and rappelling the same. As expected, he was a natural, making it all seem like old hat, cruising up and down with a smile and confidence seasoned precisely with the right amount of fear and respect for the terrain waiting days ahead on the Amphu Laptsa.

And with that, Part 1 of our trek - the new trail from Chheskam to Kongme Dingma, the Mahakulung Muddhi-Kongmedingma Trail - was finished. The next day we’d enter the alpine, trekking along an established, but seldom used, trail through alpine lakes under serrated behemoths, then up and over the high Amphu Laptsa pass and into the Khumbu. The days before were, as I’d hoped, spectacular, replete with everything a trek in the Himalaya can deliver (but often does not): scenery, solitude, adventure, great company, and memories galore. And, of course, some exploration.

Moonrise over Chamlang from Kongme Dingma.

As mentioned above, we didn’t chart new territory, make a daring first ascent, or add new data to the geographic lexicon. But, we did explore, all of us. We explored areas that were new to us, new to most. We explored new ways to help the villages of Mahalulung - and the thousands of souls who live there - develop and establish sustainable trekking and the income that goes with it. And, perhaps most saliently, we explored ourselves, pushing our own boundaries even just a little, probing the possible, exiting comfort zones and finding joy through hardship, toil, laughter, and camaraderie. Like TS Eliot wrote in Little Gidding back in the last century, an ode less to Magellanic exploration and more to that of the personal:

We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, remembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning… - TS Eliot, Little Gidding excerpt from "Four Quartets"

Stay tuned for Part 3 of this story - the Hunku alpine zone, Amphu Laptsa, and Khumbu - coming soon.

(see part 1 of this article here)

[tree3friend]

friends, enemies & the random internet strangers: i salute you all!

welcome to this little corner of the world wide web - my name is dersu (not my real name but sounds cool as hell) and im gonna be your host while youre here, so you may want to know a little bit about me

i love listening to music, reading books, and watching movies (like many of you! what a coincidence, am i right?) i enjoy a wide variety of stuff (don't we all?) but here's a selection of some of my favourites:

music: savages, elliott smith, manic street preachers, anything with elizabeth fraser on it, lorde, mitski, anna calvi, bob dylan, st. vincent, patti smith, david bowie, metric, tom waits, suzanne vega, sigur ros, suede, garbage, bjork, talking heads, sharon van etten books: alice oseman & james baldwin are my favourite authors - id read the user guide for the coffee machine if it was written by one of these two all kinds of poetry - sharon olds, wh auden, mary oliver, frank ohara, emily dickinson, ts eliot, nikki giovanni to name a few of my favourite poets scifi/fantasy/magical realism - anything, really, that brings some change to the reality that we live in, however little it may be movies: ok im getting a bit tired so ill just put my letterboxd top 4 in here, hope you dont mind --- perfect days (2023) lady bird (2017) eternal sunshine of a spotless mind (2004) portrait of a lady on fire (2019)

i like finding unexpected funny and unlikely connections between people and/or things - one of the things i want to use this blog for is to get to share some of these with you so that all of it may feel less insane to me

also forgot to mention, my favourite series is twin peaks & oh. how. i. just. adore. that. show.

again, im getting a bit tired and also running out of things to say, so guess this will be it for this time. i dont really have any plans for this blog - i think ill just post random things whenever i feel like it - may it be fun for us all!

[solomonara]

The Cross Purposes Job - Chapter 1 - Leverage - Batman (All Media Types) [Archive of Our Own]

A con on the verge of success gets sniped by an unknown third party. The Leverage crew traces the interference back to Gotham. Now the con has a new target: shady billionaire Bruce Wayne and the highly suspicious Wayne Enterprises.

Chapters: 1/7 Fandom: Leverage, Leverage: Redemption, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Breanna Casey, Tim Drake, Eliot Spencer (Leverage), Sophie Devereaux (Leverage), Parker (Leverage), Barbara Gordon, various other bats and thieves Additional Tags: comic book hacking, comic book lawyering, Influencers, Social Media, Misunderstandings, Mention of grooming, POV Outsider, (aka the Leverage crew looking at the bats and the bats looking at the Leverage crew), Don't copy to another site

Preview:

"Well, Mr. Jeffries," Sophie (or rather, Ludmila Popova, official representative of a wealthy overseas tech consortium that was definitely not a thinly veiled front for any shady Eastern European government, no matter how much they were funded like one, wink nudge) said with a charming smile. "I must say you write a very clean code. My supervisors are pleased to accept this contract."

Her voice was lightly accented, just enough to pique Marc Jeffries' carefully cultivated interest in appearing worldly without triggering his American distrust of the foreign. They were in his little Silicon Valley startup, one of those ones with no walls and no comfortable furniture but lots of snacks. And a ping pong table.

"Pleased to hear it, very pleased," Jeffries said, beaming. "Let's just dot those Ts and cross those Is." He winked and pulled out a chair for her to sit in at the minimalist glass and steel conference table. Harry was left to pull out his own chair.

Jeffries circled round to the other side to sit and flipped open the cover on his tablet to sign the 'paperwork' that would whisk away every last bracket and comment of the MBGZ platform code and deposit it on Breanna's hard drive which, she had informed the team, she then planned to drop into the ocean.

Read it on AO3

[ksfoxwald]

Fire and Hemlock: Part 4 Chapter 6

In which we return to Fairyland

Polly's first attempt at saving Tom is following the ballad and holding on to him, literally. But Laurel has made the quartet forget her, and they are all very embarrassed about it, but Polly now knows how to work through embarrassment. "Laurel works by admissions," Polly observes; most of the complications have come from saying or not saying important things, like the bleached with pride feeling that led to her abandonment in Bristol, or the embarrassment that led to her agreeing to forget Tom.

So Polly leans into the embarrassment, using Laurel's own methods to chatter away to Tom about Nowhere until he is so flustered he says "Come off it, Polly!" - at which point he can no longer pretend he doesn't know her. This seems to have broken the curse on the rest of the quartet as well.

I am not sure what the quartet is doing here. Did Laurel invite them as a joke? Did Tom ask them to come for support? Did Ann insist on them coming? How much do they know, anyway? Ann has her memory, and says her mother was a Leroy and therefore she allowed three guests. Ann's mother is an intriguing element that I kind of want to know more about. Since the implication is that all the Leroys are fairies, does that make Ann part fae? Same with Seb. Was Ann's mother allowed to leave with Ann's father, or did something tragic befall him? Maybe Laurel is only possessive of her own lover.

The scene of the Faerie Court is described as a "charming picnic," and thus the last of Tom's stolen pictures comes true. Seb tries to chase Polly off with "If they don't take him, they'll take me!" Polly has little sympathy, noting that "he had always loved her the way most people bear a grudge," which is such a raw line. Seb also seems to be a lesser life, with Laurel remarking several times that Tom's life is "strong." I suppose a lawyer is less desirable to the fae than a musician. Perhaps Seb made himself boring on purpose to fend off Laurel.

Seb also mentions that Tom is ten years older than he, putting Tom at 24 at the funeral and 33 now.

We also get some closure on Thomas Piper, who is actually Charles Lynn, Tom's brother who has never been mentioned before. He has come for Leslie, because Charles was also one of Laurel's conquests, only he made a bargain with her sixteen years ago - shortly after Morton's last life - to let him go in exchange for Tom, in a way that seems linked to the Fire and Hemlock photo, because the photo was Tom's... I'm going to have to look at that part again.

The whole first part of this chapter is a whirlwind of tiny explanations that is a lot to process.

But we do eventually get to the final confrontation. Polly steps forward, accusing Morton of forfeiting his right to Tom's life because he put him in danger when he attempted to harm Polly. This is against the Rules, and fae are very strict about Rules, after all.

We see a return of the concrete pool, that Polly had a glimpse of filled with not-water at the funeral. This is another TS Eliot reference as well:

To look down into the drained pool. Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged, And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight

Laurel tells Morton "Tom can use anything which is truly his. You can use the exact equivalent. The one who enters the pool first is the one who goes."

We have been seeing a recurring theme of ownership throughout; applied to objects, ideas, and people - though another major theme is that you can't actually own people. And that things that are truly one's own - such as Nowhere - cannot actually be taken away.

But the pool is a trap, and anything Tom tries to use pushes him further down. After all, Laurel never said that anything of Tom's would help him get free, only that he was allowed to use it.

The way out, Polly realizes, is to let him go. Tom said it himself earlier - that Polly had held onto him for five years before she stopped. So she lets him go now, properly, of her own power, telling him off for using her and ending with "I never want to see you again!"

And Mr. Leroy goes into the pool.

Diana's explanation in "The Heroic Ideal":

Now here I found I had to leave the tradition represented by Janet in Tam Lin, because it was precisely by hanging on to Tom and being over-curious that Polly had lost him. Anyway, she has already done her hanging-on as a child. It was clear to me that the only redress she could make was the reverse of possessiveness - complete generosity - generosity so complete that it amounts to rejection. She has to love Tom enough to let him go - hurtfully. This is the only way she can harness Tom's innate strength of character, and only when hurting can he summon the full force of the fire - which is to some extent physical passion and to an even greater extent the true strength of the heroic world of the imagination Polly and Tom have built together. But Tom has to do it himself. He has depended on Polly too much.

And another TS Eliot:

In order to possess what you do not possess You must go by the way of dispossession In order to arrive at where you are not You must go through the way in which you are not And what you do not know is the only thing you know And what you own is what you do not own And where you are is where you are not

This part has always made my head spin but I think... since I have been talking about Tom as a metaphor for Polly's heroic self... I think what she needs to let go here is her idealized version of him. The sentimental drivel. To recognize that she herself is the Hero, not just the trainee-assistant, and to finally stand with Tom on equal footing. To let go of the ways they've been using each other and to simply see each other as people, which is the only way they can possibly have a relationship. At least, that's how it looks in the Coda.

[aetherograph]

And just because all those things may be present to educated eyes, art is still about perception of the viewer. Not everyone who reads work from a bigoted author is going to 'learn' whatever that bigotry is. All that stuff is still incredibly dependent on the perception of the person reading it. Symbolism is incredibly dependent on who is noticing what. So is metaphor, so is allusion, and the rest of it.

For example, as a kid who was actively being taught the folklore of great britain at the time of reading the harry potter books, I knew immediately the house elves were meant to be what are called boggans or hobgoblins, a form of house fae or spirit. And yeah, they get incredibly offended if you pay them money! However, you also can't treat them badly, or they will stop helping you and start actively being destructive. As a kid, I got mad that "she was writing brownies wrong, when she was an English lady and ought to know her own Lore!" (I said something to this effect to my mom very angrily while reading the books). I'm not wrong and neither is OP, but it's important to understand that not everyone is going to pick up on something, even if its negative, is my point.

Let's use another incredibly bigoted author: Rudyard Kipling. I read all the Just So Stories, and the Jungle Books, as a kid. I loved Rikki Tikki Tavi. I had not an earthly idea that Kipling may have been writing a racist metaphor or allegorical story about "Good Indian" vs "Bad Indian" until @moniquill told me. Was it not there? Well it WAS there, but obviously not everyone will notice it. So it's inaccurate to say that bigoted details or views are going to always be doing active harm. They require you to recognise them, first. It's important to do that, but it's not automatic.

HP was an international phenomenon, so you can't just sit there claiming it was bad and nobody should like it--clearly billions of people did like it, all over the world (it's been translated into 80+ languages) and that means there were things in there that resonated with people. People also made entire careers out of analysing it and talking about it, it was all over school curriculums and taught a lot of kids to enjoy reading in a way nothing had before. That's not nothing good ever came of this series, and it's a massive disservice to us all to have that discussion halted because the author is about as bigoted as any of the many many 'classic literature' authors were. She's just alive and a billionaire, which talking about her books, not talking about her books, and bullying other random fans of the books does not affect. The only thing that affects her is whether you buy official merch or pay attention to her, that's the beginning and end of it.

Like Moniquill said, banning all discussion or mention of a book is just going to prevent people learning. But I also want to add: 'discussion' cannot begin and end with listing a work's perceived flaws and apologising for even mentioning the book or having read the book, like you're in a confessional or something. Discussion means you take your perception and discuss it--and it doesn't have to always be 'well obviously the author was bigoted let's fully expand on exactly where and why and how' because that's just... one type of theory you can use!

The books can be analysed more than one way. That's why we talk about '[type] Theory' in media analysis! Analysis isn't just listing the sins of the author or work, either, it's making connections between the book and other things--you could analyse a book for artworks that it was influenced by, for example, in the style of TS Eliot's assertion that all art is in conversation with the art that came before it. You could analyse a movie for how it connects with queerness in the cinematic tradition of Hollywood specifically. You could analyse a tv show for how it reflects public anxieties about the Cold War. You can also, and this is a type of theory that was originally only known in Sherlock Holmes fandom really, analyse a work from the perspective of someone in the universe, trying to explain continuity errors in-universe. This is called Watsonian perspective, and is especially good for when you want to look at and figure out the world a story is set in.

hey do you think you could expand a bit on separating the art from the artist? clearly you’ve done it with jk rowling but what are your thoughts on it as a general idea?

okay, but you’re not going to like the answer.

here’s the truth: you can’t separate the art from the artist. not entirely. HP Lovecraft was an incredibly talented, but much more incredibly racist man. It would nice to say you don’t agree with his views but you can enjoy his works without that leaking in but…. well, I’m afraid that would be misunderstanding his books entirely.

Consider, for a second, that Lovecraft’s works were horror stories about extradimensional alien monsters having mutant children with humans, they were about invasions from distant monsters, they were about the purity of quaint European towns being tainted. Consider how this may have all been inflicted by the fact that he just simply despised anybody who wasn’t white. Consider how is opinions on “mixing the races” might fight into this; consider why being unable to maintain the “purity” of white Europe was the scariest thing of all to him.

This extends to Rowling too.

I would love to say we can just acknowledge that she is an awful, racist, antisemitic, transphobic person and then say “but at least her books are good,” because, well, they are, aren’t they? I would say so, for sure. But to suggest that one can separate her from them is…. ridiculous.

Consider why an antisemitic woman wrote about a species of goblins who live among us, but who for the most part keep to themselvesand are maybe a little bit oppressed by the institution, but also hold all the cards, all the money, run the banks.

Consider why a racist woman would write about a species of slaves who loved being enslaved, who enjoyed working for no pay, and cleaning up after humans, with the only small caveat of that they didn’t want to be beaten. Imagine that only the most radical of their species wanted to be free, and he still spent the rest of his life working for no pay and helping out a little white boy and his friends wherever he could. Consider why the only person in the story who thought they should be free, that they should have rights, was treated as an overzealous joke, who was acting against the wishes of those slaves who really LOVE being enslaved. Consider that Rowling went on to say that she kind of considers that girl to be black, now.

Consider why JK Rowling, an open and proud transphobe, wrote Rita Skeeter as having a large square jaw, thick “manly” hands, and dressing incredibly gaudily with the most obvious fake nails and fake teeth and fake hair and fake everything. Consider why a woman who tweets about how trans women are “foxes pretending to be hens to get in the hen house” might write this Rita Skeeter to then illegally transform her body in order to spy on children.

Harry Potter is full of Rowling’s bigotry, start to finish. Not even tangentially, like, “oh the goblins are bad, Rita Skeeter is bad, the house elves are bad, but most of it’s good!” because the deeper you dig and the longer you think the more you realise the entire story is based on her prejudices.

Harry Potter pretends to be an aracial story about found family, but if that were true, why are Harry’s distant ancestors important to who he is today even in the seventh book? Why does Harry have to live with his cousin and aunt and uncle? Because magic inherently prefers blood ties. Whilst Rowling was writing a story that seemed to say, “your heritage is not that important and doesn’t make you better than others” she was still writing a story about a boy who got all of his money through his bloodline, who was protected by living with his bloodline, no matter how evil, who was uniquely able to stop Voldemort because his bloodline passed down the invisibility cloak for generations and generations. Any step Harry takes he is compared to his perfect parents who were exactly like him — he looks just like his father, but he has his mother’s eyes, you know! — consider WHY a woman who is racist might’ve written a story like this. A story that on its surface, condemns a blood caste, but still in every step it takes, validates the idea that blood is thicker than water, and your geneological origin is what makes you special.

You can enjoy Harry Pottwr, of course you can. There are fantastic parts. I love a small group of teenagers deciding to become anarchies rebels and train to fight against fascism in secret. I love the murder mystery plots, I love how the series tells kids that it’s a good thing to be brave, and a good thing to fight injustice, and a good thing to challenge the government. But I cannot separate it from its author because it is such a product of its author. All of the structures of the world, the way things work in the universe, and drenched in Rowling’s beliefs, her bigotries. Of course they are: she made them.

Again. This doesn’t mean you cannot enjoy it. But I think we are past the day where we can pretend that disavowing a bigoted author is enough, and that that somehow separates the text from its bigotry. I think we are past the day where we can pretend that Harry Potter isn’t a deeply, inherently bigoted piece of media. Even the bits we love. I think we are beyond the day where we can truthfully pretend to separate it from her, because she is present through all of it. We MUST recognise its flaws. We MUST admit that she is in every part of it.

[courier-nix]

2/3/7/11/52 for fallout oc asks?? 👀

Coming right up!!!

Super excited someone asked for some!!! Some Dead Money spoilers ahead but not much. Okay so here they are:

2. Which faction(s) did they join and which did they destroy? Why?

So far Nix has joined the Kings and the Followers of the Apocalypse. She loves everything they stand for and wants more people to receive the aid and safety they offer. She also has a growing soft spot for the King that helps. Although she's the NCR's favorite task girl, she was originally going to support Mr. House until she got pulled to the Sierra Madre. Now, she's an independent New Vegas believer, after seeing what rich "well intentioned" men who only care about what they want can do to the world. (She also would not be able to bring herself to kill the BOS despite the fact she doesn't really like them.) She refuses to join the BOS after what happened to Veronica. Nix loves the Boomers and is untrusting of the Strip families and the Great Khans, but can play them like the fiddle when she wants. She hates the Legion and plans to wipe them out with Boone.

3. What is their S.P.E.C.I.A.L.?

S 5

P 6

E 5

C 7

I 7

A 6

L 5

She got the strength implant from Usanagi so she had an easier time holding heavy guns.

7. Do they have any mental illnesses? How do they cope?

The two main things is PTSD and anxiety. For PTSD, it can vary from hearing an alarm go off and she thinks it's her bomb collar, to she gets flash backs to the terrible things she's done that she feels guilty about. Nix's anxiety mostly manifests through abandonment issues and being alone. She doesn't quite understand why she's that way since the shots to the head made her lose a good chunk of memory, but she does know her grandma had to raise her because her parents couldn't. She is an anxious attachment person who MUST be friends with everyone and MUST be liked by everyone otherwise she feels like shit. She's strongly affected by guilt and anxiety.

So this ties in strongly with The Hollow Men by TS Eliot, whose line I stole for the title of my fanfic featuring Nix (Not with a Bang). The poem discusses people affected by war who know that they are broken and lost souls but are unable to do actions to better themselves or the world. Nix is constantly trying not to be a hollow man and is trying to make sure her companions don't end up like one too (especially Boone). But that hollow feeling is persistent and a battle on its own she has to deal with.

The last thing I'll mention is she does get violent outbursts but they're few and far between and they cause her immense guilt and shame after. She doesn't know if she's always been that way or if the shot to the head caused it, which makes her more upset.

11. Their biggest flaw? Do they recognize it as a flaw?

Nix's biggest flaw is self-doubt and indecisiveness. When there is a clear right and wrong answer in Nix's mind, she knows what to pick. Morally grey areas tend to make her indecisive because "what if so-and-so no longer likes me because of this? What if I can't lead like I'm supposed to? Will this cause more harm than good?" Etc. She knows that it's a flaw, but as of now, she doesn't know what to do about it.

The Sierra Madre changes that!!!

She becomes a bit more hardened and decisive after she sees herself doing everything right, but still ending up with Dean dead. (She honestly thought everything went great with him and didn't realize how fragile his ego was.) She learns who she wants to back in the next Battle of the Hoover Dam. At this point, I haven't planned the next arch of her story much, but she does end up more violent and those violent outbursts more common.

52. Are they good at disarming traps or do they constantly miss them?

Oh, she sucked with traps at first. She wouldn't even see them. She'd hear beeping, look for the source, and then get launched. Bear traps were the only ones she could normally notice. Trip wires and landmines she would tend to overlook. Once she got to the Sierra Madre, she started to slow down and pay attention, especially since so many other people needed her to survive. By the time she got into the casino, Nix was a pro at disarming or stepping around traps (some may say she had a light step now lol).

Here's a quick doodle of Nix getting launched and Lily rushing to catch her since you made it all the way through!!!

[big-als-talk-time]

I met a few people on the road recently.

First was a French guy near den haag central. After I jumped between the cubes for sitting he approached me. He spoke french and only a little english so there was a language barrier. Luckily I kept a downloaded translator which worked well. I helped him charge his phone using my external battery. He said I was his hero, like spiderman. I mentioned that this was said to me as I was doing a wall climb. When I showed him he said that this was not spiderman it was assassins creed. He invited me to his city and we exchanged information.

At the hostel the owner was very high energy. Even so at midnight. I figure he was on some substance but it worked out for me as the keys were reset and he was able to help me immediately.

There was a local man by the name of Jamiraqua I think is how it is spelled. We talked about spanish and italian grammar (in english).

I later was able to practice some spanish with a woman from california baja in the same kitchen area.

Then I met another local guy talking to an american traveller. They disagreed about the hummus. Aside from hummus she was fond of poetry, specifically wasteland by ts eliot. I talked about Ursula le Guin.

The local guy was kind fond of every single woman who walked in the door. Eventually I showed him how to emulate games on the telephone. He loved bubble bobble, mentioning it specifically. We got it working on his device quickly. Then he asked me for help designing an app for generating sales leads. I said he would probably have to use information from a data broker for that but he dismissed the idea. oh well.

A woman held the door open for me at the basement. She had mistaken me for her friend. I said well maybe we can be friends in the future! She chuckled nervously at the prospect and I took this as my cue to leave.

I also met one of the developers of Palestine skate game. He showed me the demo. Apparently they plan on giving 70% of proceeds to charity. They have a call out for animators and anyone who has access to motion capture technology. Seems like a good project. If you are interested i can link you. We exchanged information on the off chance that the vtubers might be able to help. So far no luck.

I ran into the poetry lady again. It turns out she is a climber. I mentioned i liked buildering and she asked me about what equipment i use. I told her i don't know anything about that I just free climb. She didn't seem very much into the prospect. I said that it does kill people so I get it. Then I told her explicitly goodbye forever.

At the bus stop I met a russian guy. He was reserved and wasn't upfront about where he was from. I failed to speak russian to him. But we did talk about chess. Turns out he is a intracellular biochemist guy. So we talked about electrogenic bacteria. We exchanged information as he is a learner of italian. Probably can do a language exchange.

On the way home I met a pugliese lady who was in town for a giornalism conference. She was lost. I showed her organic maps as it can be downloaded. When we got to talking I found out she needed help with finding her stay. I offered to show her the way and she accepted. We took the minimetro. I got almost all the way but took one wrong turn. I offered to carry her luggage up the steps as an apology but she understandably refused. Still we arrived to her nondescript alleyway i guess she got an airbnb for. She was very thankful for the help, going so far as to say she wouldn't have found the place without me.

[carmeloffie]

TS ELIOT MENTION……‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[toruro]

WELL okay if u don’t know anything abt vega

it’s the brightest star in the constellation lyra, which is visible in the northern hemisphere at the very least during the summer? it’s also part of an asterism called the summer triangle that involves the brightest stars in the constellations aquila, cygnus, and lyra (the stars are altair, deneb, and vega respectively). it’s the second brightest star in the northern *celestial* hemisphere (following arcturus) and the fifth brightest overall (following canopus, the alpha centauri star system, and canopus) by absolute magnitude !!

it’s been the pole star in the past and will do so again in the future (not anytime soon tho), and it (might ?? i think confirmed ??) has at least a singular planet orbiting it c: it’s also so well known that there are names for it in a handful of different cultures, from the assyrians and babylonians to the chinese (where it’s part of an asterism known as the weaving girl, iirc?) and it’s mentioned in a w h auden poem (he wrote one of my favorite poems !).

- ts eliot anon (sry for the info dump. but i felt like u needed context behind my decision.)

OMG THIS IS SO COOL ... u seem 2 know a lot abt like constellations and stars and all that stuff it's super cool 2 me LIKE ... u think /i'm/ the 2nd brightest star in the northern hemisphere!?!? i'm flattered honestly. floored. in the best wsay possible ofc bUT THIS IS SO CUTE feel free 2 info dump in my dms whenever

(also i like how it has one planet. i'd love some1's world 2 revolve around me. idk i think'm self obsessed like that but then again why wouldn't i lvoe myself)

[ksfoxwald]

Fire and Hemlock Readalong: Part 3 Chapter 1

We now begin Part 3 - Where Now?

Polly goes to live with her dad, packing the stolen photograph and the toy soldiers. That may be what saves her, allowing her to call on the heroes by means of sympathetic magic.

She finally starts reading The Golden Bough on the train, and we get a lot more clues in the chapter titles - "Sympathetic Magic," "The Sacred Marriage," "Kings Killed at the End of a Fixed Term" stand out in particular.

With Dad and Joanna we see another example of adults who are so locked in their way of being they have forgotten to use their imaginations. Everything in the flat is perfectly, unsettlingly neat and tidy. Later Dad takes Polly out to the Zoo, and curiously, she describes the bird house as "magical," even though birds aren't really a major motif in this story. But they are flying around loose and free, unlike Polly right now. "It's like when I dream inside my own brain!" she says. The freedom of imagination in a mind that is otherwise trapped, perhaps.

It soon becomes apparent that Dad has not told Joanna that Polly is staying for good, and when Joanna asks straight out how long Polly is staying, Polly panics and says that she is leaving tomorrow. Here, once again, the adults fail Polly, leaving her on the doorstep without making sure she has a ticket or gets on the train. With nothing else to do, Polly starts wandering around the city alone, in a very mythic way - this part is referenced in Diana's Heroic Ideal essay, comparing her to Snow White lost in the forest. And the scene where she stands looking over the river evokes TS Eliot's Four Quartets, which is another framing device in the story.

Jones:

Polly walked to the middle and stopped. The wind took her hair there and hurled it about. She leaned both arms on the chubby metal fence at the edge and looked down, dizzyingly far, to the sinewy brown water of the Bristol Avon racing between thick mud banks below. The wind hurled seagulls about in the air like wastepaper.

Eliot:

I think the river Is a strong brown god Trying to unweave, unwind, unravel And piece together the past and the future, Between midnight and dawn, when the past is all deception The future futureless, before the morning watch When time stops and time is never ending

So Polly stands in-between things, both literally on a bridge, and figuratively between the past and future, between her mother and father, another Nowhere place.

As she leaves the bridge she spots Morton Leroy, and understands that this is all his doing, though I'm not sure what part he played because we don't get real rules for how they work. Did he engineer the misunderstanding between Dad and Joanna? Or did he get into Polly's head, with that whole "bleached with pride" feeling where she insisted she could find her own way home? Perhaps he was using the connection through the opal pendant for that, too. We know they are able to get at other people, but I think they are only able to do that through Polly. The whole "panics and starts saying things to get out of the Situation" is such a normal response that you wouldn't assume it was magic at all without everything else going on, but that's the nature of the Leroys, isn't it? To use ordinary things to control people.

As Polly walks, we see more mentions of the wind, hurling trash about in a foreshadowing of what is to come.

Then, as Polly continues to move in-between places, thinking that the shift from office blocks to old houses is like stepping from Here to Nowhere, she manages to call on Nowhere again in the sight of a familiar car...

I was trying to work out how to put that last sentence, and after writing it I realized she is calling on her power here, and in fact is doing so throughout, in a way that leads us directly into the final challenge where Laurel says "Tom can use anything which is truly his [to escape]." Polly is able to use Nowhere to escape because it is truly hers in a way that Laurel and the Perry Leroys can't control. They can use it and twist it for their own ends sometimes, but they don't own it.

[enigmaticexplorer]

Forgot to mention this in chapter one, but the TS Eliot quotes are fucking amazing.

What makes this so interesting is being inside Echo’s head as he observes everything around him. Overhearing Rex and Cerra talking, thinking they’re talking about him (I feel bad that that was his first thought 🥲), and then realizing it’s Gregor. And then Cerra with her nightmare and Gregor comforting her? It’s brilliant writing—I am a pigeon and you are giving me breadcrumbs and I just want more.

Gregor helping Cerra with her injury 😩 their mutual care for one another—Cerra concerned about Gregor’s head injury and Gregor concerned with Cerra’s injury—is so good. Their soft moments in this chapter really had me smiling. And their dynamic makes me super interested to see what comes of Echo and Riyo.

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 2

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, non-specific injury, angst, nightmares (not described)

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Echo runs his first mission for Rex's resistance cell and learns more about his new companions.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings and "Do It Again," but all three fics can be read as stand-alones.

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This is the dead land

This is cactus land

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

“I’m scanning at least four Venators in various stages of decommissioning,” Cerra said. “This one, near the equator, is still mostly intact. Probably our best bet for a functional pod.”

“Planetary security looks tight,” Echo said. “And there’s an Imperial outpost under construction. Looks like the Empire wants to oversee the Scrapper Guild in person here. If they spot us, it will complicate the mission.”

“Got a better option?” Cerra asked.

“No,” he conceded. “I don’t suppose I do.”

“Then let’s hope they don’t spot us.”

Entering atmosphere was bumpy as hell, and the sub-light drive was still making that disconcerting racket, but despite Echo’s pessimism, their shuttle went undetected. He flew low over the Venator, scouting for a landing zone that was at least somewhat secure.

“Any chance you can put us down on the flight deck?” Cerra asked.

“Negative,” Echo replied. “It’s blocked by debris.”

“Figures,” she sighed.

“There,” Echo said after a few moments of searching. “Plenty of cover, not too far from the Venator.”

He landed the shuttle as Cerra readied the cargo floater. Echo exited first, scanning for hostiles before motioning her forward.

“On the plus side, the shuttle blends in with the rest of the junk,” Cerra muttered.

They moved as quickly as possible with the unwieldy cargo floater, keeping a wary eye for Scrapper Guild members. The path was rough and littered with sharp, twisted durasteel fragments and shards of broken transparisteel. Cerra wore sturdy work boots and durable clothing, and she had a blaster strapped to her thigh, but Echo hated how vulnerable she appeared without armor or a helmet. If she slipped and fell, she could easily sever an artery in this scrapheap. He resolved to help her get her gear in order before the next time she went offworld. 

They picked their way stealthily to the massive ship, and once aboard, made their way through the shadowy corridors. Cerra seemed to know exactly where she was going, and Echo realized she must have spent a significant amount of time on a Venator. The ships were confusing to navigate even when they were powered up and illuminated, and based on the amount of dust and refuse that littered the passageways, this one hadn’t been operational in a long time.

When they finally reached the med bay, Cerra dropped her satchel and got to work while Echo stood guard.

“Better make sure this thing actually works before I tear it out,” Cerra said.

“I hope you don’t need me to restore power to the ship,” Echo said, remembering Bracca. “I’m not making that mistake again.”

“Rex warned me,” Cerra said. “I brought an auxiliary power unit. It doesn’t have enough juice to actually run the pod, but I can at least make sure it’ll turn on.”

She connected a cable to her small power unit, and pumped her fist in victory when the screen flickered to life. 

“Wizard,” she mumbled, disconnecting the cable and immediately beginning the complicated process of uninstalling the pod. She worked in efficient silence, stopping occasionally to consult a datapad, and within an hour, they loaded the surgical pod onto the cargo floater and began their return journey to the shuttle. 

“I need to make a detour,” Echo said as they approached the armory. 

Cerra nodded and moved to guard the entrance, blaster ready. Echo quickly found what he was searching for, extracted it, and returned to the cargo loader. Cerra didn’t question him once he was back, merely resumed her rapid progress. With the cargo floater fully loaded, it was trickier to get out of the Venator than it had been to get in, and Cerra lost her footing, tumbling down the hull and slamming to the ground.

Echo cursed and ran to help her. “You good?”

“Yeah, all good,” she said. “Gloves are toast, though.”

She stripped off the mangled gauntlets. They had, fortunately, protected her hands from being cut when she scrambled for purchase on the jagged piles of scrap, but in their present state, they would only serve to hamper her dexterity.

“Better not fall again,” she said with a shrug.

As the shuttle came into view, Echo spotted movement and froze.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said grimly. “Scrappers have found the shuttle.”

“I guess the camouflage wasn’t as good as I thought,” Cerra said. “How many?”

“Three at least. We need to get rid of them before they call for backup.”

Cerra craned her neck to see around the pile of rubbish where they were hiding. “Damn. It’d be nice to have a sniper right about now.”

Echo chuckled drily. “Yeah. Ready?”

“Say the word, boss.”

“Go.”

They got as close as they could before they broke cover and fired on the scrappers. They stunned the three they could see, and Echo ran to secure the ship while Cerra retrieved the cargo floater. As he powered up the shuttle, he could see her running full tilt toward him, pushing the cumbersome lift ahead of her. Just when he began to think they’d managed to make a clean break, he saw a flash in his peripheral vision, and a shot blasted into the floater as a scrapper opened fire on Cerra from their vantage point inside the hulk of a derelict freighter. Cerra ducked behind the surgical pod and returned fire, and Echo ran to back her up, cursing. He laid down cover fire as she wrangled the floater up the shuttle ramp, and as soon as she slapped the control to close the ramp, he leapt back into the pilot’s seat and took off.

The shuttle jostled from the impact of blaster bolts as the scrapper continued firing, but within seconds, they were out of range. Cerra secured the cargo as Echo piloted them out of atmosphere, and as soon as they were clear of the planet’s gravity well, they jumped to hyperspace.

It was the middle of the night when they arrived at the repair shop, but Gregor was waiting on the landing platform outside the garage. As they disembarked, he sent Echo a casual salute and handed Cerra a cup of caf.

“Did I ever tell you you’re my favorite commando?” she asked, gulping the hot liquid as though it were life itself.

“I think I’m the only commando you know,” Gregor chuckled.

“Still my favorite,” she said. “Ugh, I can’t wait to shower. That planet was disgusting.”

“I’m afraid it’ll have to wait,” Rex said. “The timeline for Fireball’s extraction just got a lot tighter. We need to finalize our plan tonight and move out in the morning.”

Cerra shrugged. “Your call, Cap. You’re the one who has to smell me.”

As Cerra walked into the garage, Gregor narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re injured.”

“It’s nothing,” she said.

Echo glanced at her and realized she was hunching slightly to the side as though to protect her ribs, and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. There was no blaster wound, so she must have hurt herself when she slid off the hull of the Venator. Gregor arched a disbelieving eyebrow and strode directly to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets until he found a small medkit.

“Let me see,” he ordered.

“Bossy,” Cerra grumbled, but she shed her jacket and sat obediently on the sofa. 

Gregor peeled her shirt up her torso, and Echo turned away to give her privacy. Still, he heard Gregor’s hiss.

“Karking hell, Cerra.”

“It looks worse than it is,” she said.

“Really? Because it looks like you got drop-kicked all the way to Karthon and back. What happened?”

“I fell off a spaceship like a kriffing idiot,” she said. “Are we going to get this mission briefing started, or are we all just going to stand around yammering about nothing?”

Rex frowned. “Don’t you want to wait until Gregor finishes with the bacta?”

“I want to take a farking shower,” she snapped, and despite himself, Echo glanced at her, surprised by the sharpness in her tone.

Gregor worked quickly, but it was obvious that Cerra was in a considerable amount of pain. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her clenched fists shook as they rested on her knees.

“Almost finished,” Gregor murmured quietly.

“Good,” she said as her voice broke. 

“Does it hurt when you breathe?” She merely shrugged in response, and Gregor gave her an impatient look. “I need to know if you cracked any ribs.”

“Why? Nothing you can do for that anyway,” she said.

“I can put you on light duty,” Rex said.

Cerra shot him an irate glare. “Nope, doesn’t hurt to breathe. In fact, I feel great. Never been better. Can we please, please get started?”

“Fine,” Rex sighed as he began to outline the plan of attack.

Gregor finished with the bacta as Rex spoke, then put away the medkit and quickly returned to the sofa. As he sat, he gave Cerra’s hand a little squeeze, and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as she closed her eyes. Echo would have thought she had fallen asleep, except she occasionally asked a clarifying question or commented on the plan.

As Rex wrapped up the briefing, he said, “It’s vital that we remove Fireball’s chip as soon as possible, so Cerra will remain here and get the surgical pod operational. Any questions?”

Gregor and Echo shook their heads. Cerra watched Rex with an unreadable expression. When nobody spoke up, Rex dismissed them all with orders to get some sleep. Gregor went to the barracks, while Echo headed for the refresher, just as desperate for a shower as Cerra. As he left, he overheard her speak to Rex in a low voice.

“Can I have a word?” she asked.

The two disappeared into the small office at the back of the garage, and Echo took the longest shower of his life, reveling in the luxury of hot water. As much of his life as he’d spent on starships, he was accustomed to the efficiency of sonic showers, but there was no way in hells that he would opt for the sonic when a real shower was available. By the time he finished, he was relaxed and bone-weary, and he headed straight for the barracks.

A low, strained conversation emanated from behind the office’s closed door. Echo didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but his cranial implant amplified Cerra and Rex’s voices as they argued.

“—can handle himself. He has more training than any of us,” Rex said.

“It’s not about his ability,” Cerra said. “It’s about keeping him alive. He’s been through enough.”

Echo slowed to a halt. Were they arguing about him? Did Cerra not think he was capable? He frowned. She hadn’t said anything during their mission to Karthon, and she’d seen him in action. He could take care of himself, and he didn’t need her interfering with Rex’s plans.

“We need his infiltration skills,” Rex said.

“Dank farrik, Rex, you saw the extent of his brain damage when AZI removed his chip. Another hit could kill him.” Cerra kept her voice down, but her distress was evident.

Gregor, Echo understood suddenly. Cerra was worried about Rex’s plan to use him on the extraction team. Echo hadn’t realized how severe the injuries hiding beneath the commando’s irreverent disposition were.

“He knows it’s dangerous,” Rex argued.

“He doesn’t care about the danger because he trusts you so much that he’ll do anything you order,” Cerra said. “Use Echo on the infil team instead. Please, Rex. He’s just as skilled as Gregor, and he’s not at risk in the same way.”

“You know Gregor will never let me ground him,” Rex said.

“I’m not asking you to ground him. I’m asking you to assign him to pilot the ship instead of being part of the extraction team.”

“Cerra, I will protect him,” Rex began.

“Like you protected Fives?” Her voice cut like a vibroblade.

Despite himself, Echo gasped. Rex was silent.

“I’m sorry,” Cerra said after a tense moment. “That was out of line.”

“No,” Rex replied. “You’re right. I’ll put Gregor on pilot duty.”

After a long pause, Cerra finally responded. “Thank you.”

Echo realized he’d been listening much longer than he’d intended to. Shaking himself, he hurried to the barracks and climbed into his bunk. It was some time before Cerra entered, and Echo assumed she must have finally gotten her shower. She moved silently through the shadowed room and climbed into her own bunk. She must have been exhausted, because within a few minutes, he could hear her breath even out as she dropped into slumber.

He was jealous of her ability to fall asleep so easily. He’d never slept well, even before Skako Minor, and his insomnia had only gotten more severe after his experience with the Techno Union’s particular brand of hospitality. Still, he must have dozed off at some point, because quite suddenly, his eyes snapped open at the sound of a distressed whimper.

The sound was barely audible. Echo probably wouldn’t have even heard it if he hadn’t been so restless already. The cry came again, muffled and indistinct, and Cerra thrashed in her bunk. 

Gregor moved with such impressive stealth that Echo didn’t even realize he’d gotten up until he heard the commando quietly murmur words of comfort under his breath.

“Gregor?” Cerra asked in a hushed, broken voice.

“Shh, I’m here,” he whispered.

The bunk creaked, and Echo heard the soft rustle of bedding being rearranged.

“I’ve got you,” Gregor said softly. “You’re safe. I’m not going anywhere.”

Cerra shuddered, and a muffled sob followed by stifled, gasping breaths rang out through the barracks. Echo could tell that she was trying to stay quiet by pressing her hands over her mouth. 

“It’s all right,” Gregor soothed. “All the way out, remember? One, two, three, four, five. You’re all right, sweetheart, I have you. Now breathe in. One, two, three, four, five.”

Echo had an uncomfortable sense of voyeurism, as though he were intruding on an intensely private moment, but there was nothing to be done. Gregor continued to quietly coach Cerra until she brought her breathing under control. Once again, the barracks descended into silence, and at last, Echo fell asleep. When he awoke early the next morning, Gregor and Cerra were still curled up together in Cerra’s bunk, fast asleep. Gregor was lying, fully clothed, on top of the blanket, with Cerra’s body tucked securely against him and his arms wrapped around her.

---

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[roseserpentpress]

Ash Lynx, Seymore Glass and the Fisher King

    To all about to read this; in short this is an analysis dealing with Ash lynx from bananafish (the lovely manga), a perfect day for banana fish (a short story by J. D. Salinger) and on Arthurian lore with some other literature and lore stuffed in there somewhere.

Also, I am profoundly sorry to the ridiculous way I write once I begin an analysis as all my training for how to write an essay kicks in. This also got longer then I expected. Apologies aside, let us begin;

    As BF (the manga) is inspired by the short story by Salinger, some commonalities are found in between the protagonists; Seymore Glass, and Ash Lynx, or Aslan Jade Calanreese. To begin I shall require an analysis on Seymore Glass, and to begin that a short treatise of what the short story is in fact about. 

Ash Lynx and Seymore Glass

       It is mostly agreed upon that the short story, "A Perfect Day for BananaFish" by J. D. Salinger, is a commentary on post WWII consumerist culture; the protagonist in the short story, Seymore Glass, had fought in WWII, and had been recently released from a mental hospital, with other characters in the short story hinting that it was earlier than he should when it begins. Because of his experiences in the war, he is disillusioned with the consumerist society he is in; people live a very superficial self-absorbed lifestyle, their attention focused on material objects and their outward appearance, thus causing miscommunication.

    Seymore glass, as one begins to inspect the details expressed by the author, becomes evident of being a Christ-like character; not necessarily mimicking Christ's actions, in which in part he does do, but in the literary sense as a character who perceives and understands more than the other characters (think Simon from The Lord of the Flies). This is a key attribute of his, which is evident as it forms his name, which a young girl, Sibyl blatantly observes- “see more” glass. Interestingly enough, it is this heightened perception that causes -in my belief, and many others- his suicide (some people argue the reason would be pedophilia, but this does not fit into the structure and overall theme of the story). 

Just as Seymore Glass ‘sees more’ than the individuals around him due to his experiences in negative aspect of humanity, Ash does as well, both of them becoming 'Christ-like characters’, and even are portrayed in holy imagery, with the allusions of the actions of Seymore to the literal actions of Jesus, and Ash being compared multiple times to an angel, somehow each displayed as coming from a different, ‘higher’ plane of existence. However, although they are each drawn in 'holy imagery', they are shown to be both terribly broken people due to their traumatic experiences, and in their stories are attracted to individuals portrayed as innocent and pure, ie. Eiji and Sibyl respectively. Both, due to direct correspondence to those individuals at the end of their stories, choose to die, understanding that they could never return to being innocent, in life style or perception, due to their unwanted ties to their past, and so could never live a happy normal life. 

For Ash lynx this was due to his gang life and the mafia stemming from his forced prostitution, understanding that no matter what he could do he could not escape the life that he had been thrust into and lived; the end result, in eventuality would be a violent death anyways. Also, if he had just postponed, then Eiji would perhaps be involved as well, and so he chose to bleed to death within the library at a point in his life in which he was actually happy. Meanwhile, Seymore's suicide was due to that he perceived he would never be able to leave this self absorbed and superficial society, and that those who are perceived as pure and innocent, in the end only become as self absorbed, in his conversation with Sybil. Both choose to die, due to the understanding that they could not leave this negative or superficial world that their past had created for them -one literally and one perceived- and return to being innocent and thus happy.

An interesting note in all of this, is the oversimplification of Bananafish as explained in the manga, bananafish being purely a fish if seen causes an individual to become harmful and aggressive to others and themselves, which instead doesn't touch the narrative of the self serving consumerism and superficiality of society, twisting the nature of the story. This is interesting as bananafish itself has thematic similarities on society.

On the Waste Land and The Fisher King

This section is a bit farther removed from “A Perfect Day for Bananafish” and it's literary allusions, so one can take this next few paragraphs as a grain of salt; of how much there is coincidence I am unsure. Although the mangaka's expansive knowledge of literature is impressive, so who knows. 

Also found in a “Perfect Day for Bananafish”, is allusions to TS Eliot's poem, “The Waste Land”, a poem about post-war England and Europe, which Seymore directly quotes in the story. The allusions reference not only a specific section of the poem, but also characters found in his poem, Seymore represented as the Fisher King (from Arthurian lore) and Sibyl as her name's sake, Sybil (from Greco-Roman lore). These characters however are not singly expressed by TS Eliot as hinted; in fact, “The Waste Land” was heavily influenced by myths and legends, and so these characters can also be traced back to their respective mythos, which can often have multiple versions. As "The Waste Land" less establishes their own characters, I will cover the basic background of each character from their lore.

The Fisher King is from Arthurian lore, and is the last king in the line of one who was granted and entrusted to the Holy Grail. He is injured in the 'thigh’ area (highly suggestive of euphemism for groin area), and so due to his crippled state he is waiting (and in the meanwhile, fishing as it is one of the only things he can do, ie, this is where he got his name) for an individual to entrust the Grail to, thus allowing the Fisher king to be healed (and to die). 

The possession of certain genitals in the past had very definitive gender roles and sexuality ascertained to them; so the injury of the groin gives the king homosexual context, which is furthered by another detail, which is said in a few versions of the tale that Holy Grail is accompanied by a spear, and that each night the spear must be inserted into his wound for him to survive. Being a peice of queer literature, BF shares the homosexual pinnings of the Fisher king. Even the forced sexual acts of the protagonists are shared, the spear akin to Ash's forced prostitution for survival. Another interesting note on this, when the worthy one comes and receives the grail, it causes the healing of the king which then allows him to die, is mirrored in Ash and Eijis relationship; Ash falls in love with Eiji (one could argue the grail here is his love), and his "wound" (sexual abuse he had received) becomes healed (being enabled to move past it) and then, in direct relation to his love of Eiji, he chooses to die, as the Fisher king is finally allowed to die in the passing of the grail. 

There are also thematic similarities; this is seen in that as the groin wound would cause infertility of the King, this impotency was reflected onto his kingdom, it becoming a barren wasteland. This 'barren wasteland of a kingdom’ is heavily referenced in Eliot's poem in regards to post-war consumerist culture, which further emphasizes Salinger's thematic point. However in each theory both (Salinger and Eliot) are attempting to create are differing response to this acknowledgement of the superficiality of society; although this is differentiation is interesting, it is however not pertinent to my discussion. What is important is that they both agree that this Western modern culture is a superficial barren wasteland; in other words, a facade of culture. This society in large being a facade, and in fact an inhospitable self-serving and corrupt wasteland is a theme also displayed in Bananafish, as politicians and influential individuals are shown to be corrupt and self-serving, and the main face of politics a farce of niceties to appease an unknowing and apathetic public.

 Interestingly, in some versions of the tale, the Fisher King is actually comprised of a father and his son; the father being referred to as the Fisher King while his son called the Lame Prince. Both the Fisher King and his son are wounded in the groin area- the father so badly that he is unable to walk, and the son less so, but still only able to walk short distances. This relationship between the father and son of the Fisher King is rather similar to the relationship between Ash and his older brother, who became a father figure as he cared for Ash when they were younger, and is unable to walk and is rather unresponsive. 

[scrambled-eggsed]

2/3 major tests in 7 days are FINISHED

[fruitpunchjollyrancher]

i checked fayde and this is the only mention of it ever, seems like a reference to the final line of “the waste land” by ts eliot

wait i’ve never seen shantih-shantih referenced in the game before, sounds like it might be an in-universe made up place

[invalid-author]

I wanna write a full length story, really long, beautiful, hurt/comfort / Patton angst where Patton is abused by his boyfriend but he doesn't realize it's abuse until Lo, Ro, or Virge realize smth is going on and they figure out it's abuse and at first Patton denies it but then he realizes that, yeah, this is abuse, he's being abused, and they help him get out of the relationship and safe and maybe there's a chapter or two of a court case where they get Pat's abusive ex arrested and sent to jail or smth idk, and then comes the semi-comfort bc now the others and helping Patton adjust and relearn how to be his own person and dealing with the ways Patton learned to act in order to try and protect himself and there are set-backs and panic attacks and hardships and its rough, it really is, because how do you help your friend stop apologizing for everything even when it's not his fault? And its hard to see your best friend, someone you trust with your life, shy away from you in fear and curl in on himself and hide and apologize and beg you not to hurt him bc he thinks you're mad at when really you're mad at the world for putting him through this bc he is the nicest, kindest, most loving, sunshiny person you've ever met so what the hell did he do to deserve this of all things? And Patton is so confused in the beginning, he keeps expecting his friends to get mad at him for the littlest thing even if he did nothing wrong but they don't and they're kind and gentle and careful and-and he doesn't understand why bc his ex made him believe that he was useless, worthless, stupid, ugly, dumb, asshole, rude, selfish, you're lucky I put up with you, no one else could ever love you, why do I put up with you?

But eventually, Patton starts to think for himself again. He can say no without flinching away and bracing himself for a slap, he can stand up for himself and say what he believes and he can stand his ground and he's more confident and he's smiling again oh God, Ro, look he's smiling again! And Logan, look he's happy again! And Virgil missed his best friend, he missed him and he hadn't realized how much until he saw Patton's shiny-bright-as-the-sun smile light up his face and he realized that Patton hadn't smiled like that is so long, in too long, and Virgil missed that smile, he missed his friend, he missed Patton.

I want it to be either eventual LAMP/CALM or Moxiety w/ familial LAMP/CALM/Royality/Logicality or just familial found family all around everyone's happy and it ends with them all snuggling on the couch, content, falling asleep in the comfort of each others' arms w/ Patton in the middle and he realizes, with a sudden clarity that he just hadn't had before that he's finally safe. And he couldn't be happier.

But I don't have the patience or the commitment/motivation to actually write the world-building and the background and anything but most of the angst.

Like, I have a scene I'd want to include in this long as hell story playing in my head (not all of it, but most of it) where it's after L Ro and V have gotten Patton out of his situation and the ex has been arrested and they're all living in Roman's giant flat/condo/smth fancy idk (bc Ro is rich fight me) and something happens that sets Patton off and he slips back into one of his coping mechanisms and time blends together and he's with his ex but he's also with V but he can't tell them apart and he's scared and he's waiting for the hit, the reprimand, the reminder that he's lucky his ex took him in bc otherwise no one would care about him and he's apologising for making a mess (imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry-) and he can't breathe (he can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't breathe-) and then there are hands in his shoulders and someone's saying something but everything is muffled, like he's underwater, and he can't tell what they're saying or if they're yelling and he's sorry, he's sorry, he's sorry please don't hurt me I'll do better, I promise, I'll do better- but the hands on his shoulders are gentle and he realizes that all the voice is saying is his name and someone else is pressed against his back, hugging him gently, loosely enough that he could pull away if he wanted and they're slowly rocking and someone else took his hand and he can feel a calm, steady thumping that he belatedly realizes is a heartbeat and then he can hear someone counting in time with the movements of the chest his hand must be pressed against and he tries to breathe with them and he thinks it's working, the sounds are becoming clearer again and the haze of black in his vision is fading and he knows where he is now and he recognizes the arms around his waist and the chest against his back as Roman's and the calm, steady voice that matches the calm, steady heartbeat under his hand is Logan and the gentle hands on his shoulders, slowly moving to cradle his face and trailing fingers over his jaw and wiping the tears he didn't realize he was crying off his cheek and that's Virgil and his ex is in jail and he's safe and he's home and he's safe and he's with his friends, his famILY, and all of a sudden he can't breathe again and he's sobbing but it's because he's safe not because he's scared, he's safe, he's safe, he's safe.

And of course, it'd be more eloquent and thought out than that but that's a gist and honestly I really wanna write it but at the same time oh shit that's a lot y'know??????

Anyway, please, feel free to take this idea and run with it (please, someone, I wanna write this bc I want to read it so badly) and I'd you do pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease tag me bc I want to read it please

But hey, let me know if I should give actually writing this monster of a story a shot and if you think I should go for it, I'll definitely try my best to actually finish something for once in my life XD

(If I do end up writing it, any suggestions for titles??)