#turq8

[turq8]

ATTN Javid Denkins-ers

If you’ve only been following along with the “not a game” ARG on @javiddenkins‘ page on Tumblr, you might not have realized that this thing has gone totally multi-platform (Twitter, AO3, maybe even Wattpad?)!  A ton of accounts, all talking about the fictional show (”Blow The Man Down”) from the fic that the audio Morse code sent us to!

If you’re wondering what I’m even talking about, @eefaevie has been keeping an excellent thread over on Twitter explaining everything that’s been worked out.  Unfortunately, Tumblr nerfs posts with external links from showing up in searches, and I want as many people to see this as possible, so I’ve made a separate post with the link to Evie’s thread here: 

https://www.tumblr.com/turq8/713250871316824064/a-summary-of-javids-arg?source=share

Now that you’re all caught up, you can see there’s obviously a lot to keep track of.  There are currently about 11 Twitter accounts, 8 AO3 accounts (with 7 legitimate fics written), and 2 additional Tumblr accounts, all interacting with each other and giving out clues to the BTMD canon.  I’ve made a spreadsheet to keep all of it straight, which you can find in this post: 

https://www.tumblr.com/turq8/713251454279974912/the-javiddenkinsbtmd-arg-spreadsheet?source=share

I think it’s going to take all of us working together to keep track of things and figure this out!

[triflesandparsnips]

When something is definitely not a game, but most definitely a gift

or, after sufficient thought and also some really very clever meta coming out of Good Omens fandom: What Javid Denkins means to me (and what I probably don't mean to "Javid Denkins")

Recap time!

In December of 2022-- wait, no, I already wrote that post, go read that. To summarize, though:

The (real) show Our Flag Means Death has a showrunner named David Jenkins. He started posting on tumblr in mid-July 2023.

The (fictional) show Blow the Man Down has a showrunner named Javid Denkins. He started posting on tumblr in early December 2022.

There was a period of time where OFMD fandom was uncertain whether these two people were one and the same, which led to a great deal of interest in the "season 2" puzzles, hints, breadcrumbs, and other fascinating bits of interactive, cross-media engagement coming out of the Javid Denkins account.

I was one of those people having A Good Time with the interaction -- I constructed puzzles for whoever was on the other end of the line, with no real belief that they would be engaged with. It was fun to do, though, and-- what if? (Bookmark this, I'm going to come back to it.)

Eventually it shook out that BTMD was a fictional show in an OFMD alternate universe fic, and from there the interactive multimedia elements expanded beyond just tumblr-- and beyond the edges of my first linked essay above.

And then, in June 2023, with the end of the story and a final post to the Javid account, it came to an end.

A brief rundown of the areas of play

There are multiple elements to the Javid Experience (tm) -- so far as I can tell and/or has been recorded by better fans than me (i.e., @eefaevie) [EDIT 9/27/23: twitter has shat the bed entirely, so here's a link to the threadreader collection]:

1. The Javid Denkins tumblr account: starts the experience, introduces the concept of games/puzzles, slowly introduces the show Blow the Man Down

2. The AU fic Blow the Man Down: makes clear the connection between the real Our Flag Means Death with the fictional BTMD, makes clear the use of games/puzzles, introduces the use of social media as an important driver of the plot and the characterization, and introduces the inciting incident for the story: Javid Denkins, showrunner of BTMD, saying that he would start a Twitter account (thus making him not the same as tumblr-Javid -- and also, unlike the other characters in the AU, not a one-to-one alt of the real David Jenkins -- which will become important later)

3. The BTMD fic collection: an open, unmoderated collection of fic that references only BTMD, treating it as a fandom in its own right while providing elements (and themes) for the main AU fic to reference

4. Several twitter accounts and group chats: these comprise, I would say, four groups/entities acting in real time and in concurrence with or directly affecting the plot of the AU. @turq8 put together a spreadsheet with the handles (as well as the assumed BTMD canon), but in short, these groups were:

the main characters of the AU (Ed and Stede, from OFMD, who in this story are fans of BTMD);

"fan" accounts for BTMD, some of whom are tied to fic authorship within the BTMD collection, and who served here as a mirror of fandom dynamics;

real accounts of fans of OFMD who were following the AU and were engaged in the Javid Experience;

Javid Denkins-- not the same Javid as tumblr-Javid or the fic-Javid, but rather one who was sockpuppeted by the Ed character

(For those keeping track, we are now up to... three different Javids: tumblr-Javid, fic-Javid, and Ed-Javid. Bookmark that.)

5. Several ancillary sites and social media accounts to add to the reality/unreality of the alternate universe, including but not limited to:

tumblr-Javid's site and its sub-pages, providing more clues/games than could necessarily be supported in tumblr's interface;

Stede's Pinterest board, providing real-time meta-narrative to support the story and the interactions the Stede twitter account was having with the OFMD fan accounts;

the instagram account and website for an in-universe animal rescue (with an event advertisement that became Relevant);

a fanzine and accompanying Mad Magazine-style fold-in (which led to a mirrored fanzine by the OFMD fans playing along);

a photograph of the alternate-universe's TV Guide with synopses of all 10 episodes of the first season of BTMD

a fake interview with the actors of BTMD ("fake interview" you say, BOOKMARK THAT);

and a youtube account ostensibly owned by one of the Javids that concluded the twitter aspects of the narrative by posting the "trailer" for season 2 of BTMD

These five areas are, I would say, the publicly accessible and still (to a degree) trackable elements of the experience, though their ephemerality is being tested with the changes to twitter and the general nature of digital-heavy works.

Now, with all that... I want to talk about two elements that aren't particularly public, and the one that finishes off the whole thing.

Three is a magic number (to triangulate a Theme)

1. The Letter

In the penultimate chapter of the AU, the author, Javid Denkins (which one?) describes a real life location, with a fictional hidden treasure, but with a real life pair of photos attached at the end.

What isn't clear, and what won't be clear to outside readers, is that there was, in fact, a real life treasure in that real life place.

I know this, because I went there. And I found it.

I describe the whole thing here, along with my Feelings about it, but in short, there was a letter that read:

In looking for the story, you became a part of it. Thank you for playing. Thank you for letting me believe it can be real. Javid

(Which Javid?)

2. The (First) Interview

The next thing that I imagine few outside readers would know about is the results of that Fic Club discord server interview I couldn't attend from the beginning-- but, thank all the little fishes, I was able to crash partway through and back-read.

Here's what you need to know:

There were not one, not two, but three Javids answering questions, demarcated by different colored icons.

Over the course of the hour, it became clear that one of the Javids was Ed-as-Javid (unaware that he exists in an AU, assumes he's dreaming up this interview); another was tumblr-Javid (aware of the AU, aware of the puzzles and games on tumblr, but unaware of The Letter); and then there was a third unknown Javid (who asked questions, cut off questions, and, in the end, was revealed to definitely know about The Letter).

The Javids answered a limited number of pre-defined questions, though there seemed to be some cross-talk and allowances for fan interaction -- thus making this, if it wasn't already obvious, a performance piece. A piece of the whole story.

The questions chosen can be found on the previously linked spreadsheet, under the "Q's for J.A.V.I.D." tab-- they mostly matched up with A3, A2, A4, A7/B2, B7, A7, C2, D4, F8, and C6, for those who want to dive in. (@clairegregoryau, who moderated, is working on releasing the transcript for public consumption, so you could also wait for that ETA: nope, just a summary/analysis -- though with the scripted nature of the Q&A, maybe someday Javid'll release that end of it? Whatever comes, I'll update here when it goes live).

But in the shortest possible sum up: the questions chosen/answered were about audience participation, unreality, and the nature of "Javid(s)" anonymity.

tumblr-Javid gave the most concrete answers to things; Ed-Javid provided a sort of meta-narrative similar to Stede's Pinterest in terms of inner-thoughts and whatnot, providing a "real person's" perspective to the fictional drama of the AU; and mystery-Javid... was a sharp-edged mystery. Until--

3. The (Second) Interview

On June 25th (the date listed on the pet rescue instagram), at 9:30 AM (the time listed within the post itself, making this a "real time" event), the tumblr account made its last post: an interview with Javid Denkins.

It's not the transcript of the first Fic Club interview. Rather, it's more of an essay, written in the style of a GQ or Esquire piece, with a first-person interviewer describing their sit-down with the showrunner of BTMD. It starts with the sentence:

Javid Denkins is not interested in answering questions. 

From there, it's slowly revealed that the second interview is, in itself, just a figment of Javid Denkins's imagination. And so is tumblr-Javid. And so is Ed-Javid. And more than that: This Javid imagined our entire universe -- OFMD, David Jenkins, the creation of the Javid tumblr and character, the BTMD augmented reality game, everything...

...as a thought experiment.

To see if, in some reality, somewhere, it was possible for him to be authentic and open as an artist-- and not be punished for it by an ouroborosing fandom.

It's an astonishing (and complicated to work out, because hooboy, did I need to sit down and diagram some stuff) piece. I have the barest edges of Feelings about it in this reblog, but as I say there: this second interview is about art, and celebrity, and fear, and humanity.

...but it is also about audience participation, unreality, and the nature of anonymity, as in the first interview. Because that's who this ultimate-Javid is -- he's the third Javid from Fic Club, still testing. He's the Javid from the AU (the one that doesn't match up with our universe's David Jenkins), self-inserting to try and explain again and again, to an audience that can't seem to hear him, why he's so angry.

Why he's so afraid.

(Anger, they say, is a secondary emotion.)

This second interview explains why this entire Javid Experience exists-- but even then, it's not entirely truthful, because it's still a story. It's a story that tells the truth through fiction. It tells the truth without revealing the magic behind it.

And it also makes me... look into the mirror, perhaps. Look deeper than I have until now, and question what I see.

Who am I (to Javid Denkins)

Here's the thing: Javid has never, ever spoken to me.

There was, for a long time, a pleasant fuzzy feeling when there appeared to be coincidences (such as the use of book codes, when I had referenced them earlier, etc). In my heart, though, and in my Very Reasonable brain, I knew that that's what they were: coincidences.

And then, when the chapters for the AU started to drop, I started noticing... more coincidences. More things that seemed to line up with someone, on the other side of the enclosure, talking back to me. I talk about this a little (a lot) in my original summary post. But it still wasn't anything direct, not really. I could play with the idea of being referenced, of being connected to, but that's all it could really be unless I was contacted directly: just a playful notion, a fun idea. Positive parasociality, I suppose.

Then, The Letter happened. And I was the one to find it. Things I knew to be coincidence -- because it literally could have been anyone! I didn't really have the time that day to go, but got swept up in the adventure! -- took on the weight of Significance. It felt real, in ways I can't even describe without going into personal details beyond the reach of a silly tumblr post.

Who was I to Javid Denkins? What did he want from me? It was exciting. It was thrilling. It was frightening, in a way, but to be perceived-- to be known by someone I admired-- felt like a kind of vindication.

Every good intention I had ever had regarding keeping a cool head and a distant interest: gone. I was all-in. I reveled in what I felt was attention.

...and then I read the first interview. I read the second interview.

I looked in the mirror. And what I saw:

1. There was someone on the other side of it. (There always had been.)

2. And that person was so angry (so afraid) of people finding meaning where none existed. Of people tearing down the walls of the enclosure, fists raised, to get that meaning whether it was freely given or not.

Here's the thing (again): There were things said in the essay that could apply to me. There are things that could apply to @eefaevie, and @turq8, and @clairegregoryau, and every other fan who participated in Javid's experiment.

But.

There are things that could apply to someone who has never heard of Our Flag Means Death. There are things that could apply to a musician, taking a smoke outside their venue and hoping no one bothers her. There are things that could apply to a puppeteer, glad he can go to the store without being bothered but upset, too, that he will never be known enough to be bothered.

There are things that could apply to a writer on the picket line, striking well after this story was written. There are things that could apply to an actor, decades dead, worried about coming out of the closet. There are things a painter, not yet born, will be scared to let drop from their brush.

Here's the thing (one last time, because three is a magic number): Javid has never, ever, ever spoken to me. Not directly, and not-- I believe now-- even indirectly. Because it's not about me. To assume it is, is... to find false positives in patterns that repeat across all public and private faces; across art, and the painful arithmetic of artist and audience. To take something universal and true, and make it small and mean and about just one thing: believing myself the main character.

What hubris. To make myself the main character of someone else's self-reflection. And to lose the world entire because of it.

Who am I to Javid Denkins? Nobody. Everybody.

The beauty of the Experience in its totality is that it is so deeply, painfully personal, so wrenching in its honesty, that it seems to speak directly to you. To reach out a hand, offering a gift that only exists if you don't demand its existence.

Each of us can accept this gift. None of us can claim it as our own, because it's not our gift to give. We can only hold out our own hands, give our own gifts, and hope that so many people find joy and comfort in it, as we did in our turn.

It's a gift that feels heavy in my hand, and I know now that I will give it over and over. For those who stumble close unseeing, until: a gleam.

[turq8]

Hey everyone, if you’re feeling lost about why Oscar Isaac (dressed as a pirate) is in the eye of the pfp, I made a post explaining what’s going on!

https://www.tumblr.com/turq8/713251556183670784/attn-javid-denkins-ers

[nowhereisnearmyhome]

for the ask game: 18!

18. What’s something you wish you could write an essay on?

oh man!!!! i actually have a very specific thing and @zero-is-natural knows all about afshdjfog

basically ive been sitting on a cat in the hat theory for about 2 years now and all my friends absolutely HATE when i bring it up, so ive definitely thought about writing a full on research paper about it 👀👀

[thetransguard-archive]

Your fic for Nile week day 2 has me CRYING because I'm thinking of the "pale blue dot" passage from Carl Sagan, and the weight those words would have on the team, who have seen "the rivers of blood spilled" and "the endless cruelties... how eager they are to kill one another" (Joe and Nicky in particular) and I just... it's so good

OK omg i have to thank you because that whole passage has kind of lived in my head rent free for like.. ages and i had no clue as to where i’d read it or who it had come from so thank u sm for pointing me in the right direction aha!! and yeah like its so. incredible to me that we all live on what essentially is just. a flicker of time and life in a universe so big as to be unfathomable and even the guard who have lived for SO long are kind of dwarfed by the immensity of space... 

[youhearstatic]

For the micro-prompts: 20, 16, or 47? (I like to give options in case one jumps out more than the others, so don't feel like you should combine them or something!)

20 - You probably thought I forgot, right? I didn’t! (And I haven’t forgotten the other two I have left, either!)

Surprise, surprise, this one went long. Hope you like it!

--------------------------

Alone, Finally

 Barry followed the rest of the crew down the backstage hallway, tugging at the unfamiliar robe they’d been given right before they went on stage. Well, that some of them had been given. Magnus was wearing a jacket he’d instantly pulled the sleeves off of. The captain had a longer version of the same jacket that was tailored immaculately to him with military severity. Merle hadn’t even worn his for the press conference. The twins had worn both jackets and robes, somehow making the IPRE uniform look like couture instead of standard issue. Lucretia was in the robe but she looked like a lost boarding school student, the crimson robe looked stylishly scholastic on her. He tugged at the neck of the robe again, even more self conscious than he’d been on stage. 

Ahead of him, the twins had their heads bowed together, whispering and laughing. For the first of many, many times, the echo of Lup’s comment on stage scraped across his thoughts like nails on a chalkboard. 

Nerd alert!

Just a few more minutes and the others would be heading to that bar they’d mentioned. And then - for one last time for a while - he’d be alone, finally. 

---

 Trailing his hand down the wall, Barry made his way by memory. After eleven years he could have done it with his eyes closed.

Which was essentially what he was doing. 

It was stupid, so fucking stupid. Okay, sure, that first year he hadn’t known to take his glasses off. Why would he? But by the third time they regenned he should have figured out that his glasses were going to be important and he should set them aside before … whatever it was that happened at the end of the cycle. That fourth year he’d died, that could be excused. The eighth year he’d had it ingrained in him not to even think of removing his mask. So that year could be excused, too. 

But that still left six regens. Six opportunities to set aside a pair of glasses in case of emergency. 

Well maybe next year he’d remember. But for the rest of this year he was practically blind. Anything beyond arm’s reach might as well not exist. He could make out colors and if he squinted really hard sometimes he could get a slight hint of shape to the faceless blurs around him. 

It’s fine, he told himself for probably the thousandth time that day.

It wasn’t fine. Sure, he could make his way around the ship, fumbling his way from room to room by memory and feel. But once he was there he didn’t have much to offer. He couldn’t work in the lab. Experiments were off the table - literally if he was trying to do them. Just trying to clean basic equipment in the lab had resulted in two broken beakers before Lup kindly, patiently, but insistently suggested he leave the job to her. He couldn’t help look for the light. He couldn’t take notes on their observations. He couldn’t even help with chores around the ship!

Pushing open the fifth door on the left, he was alone, finally. Dark blur straight ahead was his bed and beige-ish blur to the left was his desk. And then the blurs were watery and the tears of frustration and self pity that he’d held off all week caught up to him. He leaned against the door and let his facade drop.

He was so tired of being a drain on the crew. Not being able to help, having to be looked after, and maybe worst of all, pretending it didn’t kill him by inches, pretending it was all just a silly thing to be joked away. ‘Barold bumping into things for three more months,’ wasn’t it hilarious? ‘Barry fell of the rock jetty, lost his glasses, almost died, and now he’s talking to the coat rack because he thinks it’s Lucretia.’

“Barry?”

Fear shot hot and electric through his body, startling him into embarrassed silence. He swabbed his hand over his face, trying to disguise the fact he’d been leaning against his door crying because he…

“Oh, fuck,” he said. “I went in the fourth door, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Lup answered. That one syllable was so patient and kind and understanding and honestly, it was just salt in his wounds. He didn’t want to be understanding about this whole thing and he really didn’t want Lup to be understanding about him bumbling into her room and having a breakdown.

“Sorry, I, just, um,” 

A blur separated itself from the bed-blur, straightened into a taller blur, and approached him. He could almost see the shape of her hair in her silhouette - it was loose, not braided was all he could make out - when she was close enough to take his hand. “C’mere,” she said, tugging him gently towards the bed-blur. “Hold on,” she said. The Lup-blur bent then straightened again. “Don’t want you tripping over my boots,” she explained. There was a clunk to his right and he assumed she’d tossed the shoes towards the wall to get them out of the way.

It was disconcerting, being pulled into a sitting position on Lup’s bed. Their rooms were arranged identically, looked identical to his unassisted vision, and sitting on her bed was, in theory, no different than sitting on his own.

Except it was. It wasn’t his bed, it wasn’t his room, and worse - oh so much worse - it was Lup’s bed in Lup’s room. His face was burning and his stomach was winding itself into furious little knots and dammit, he hadn’t thought he could feel worse than he did three minutes ago but, look at that!, here he was sunk lower than the freezing point of mercury. 

“I didn’t mean to bug you,” he mumbled, eyes aimed at the floor or where the floor was if he could at least be trusted to get that right.

“Hold still,” she tells him. Then she’s pushing the hair back from his forehead and there’s a weird sensation, like a pinching pull that doesn’t quite hurt but it’s just so odd he can’t figure out what’s going on.

“Stop frowning!” she tells him, her voice colored with laughter. “I’m just clipping your hair back.”

“Why?” he asks before he can stop himself. He feels like he’s three steps behind what is happening.

“Because we’re doing face masks.”

“What?”

“Relax,” she tells him. 

And for some strange reason, he does.

 ---

 They’ve been alone. Over the years, in a dozen planar systems, across doomed worlds, in forgotten ruins, or just in the lab working silently, they’ve been alone.

They’ve been alone. Over the months of study and composition and practice. They’ve been alone, just the two of them and their music filling the empty room, no witness to the way the notes have been building and the music has been building and the way the tempo has somehow gotten slower. Here at the end, right next to each other, a pair of pathways that have wound ever closer over the years, the paths have almost joined and yet.

And yet.

They meander these last months. Dancing closer and closer but not touching, not mingling, not yet. 

Each step forward slower and slower until the momentum is crawling forward, making the distance of a few inches last and last.

They are alone together on stage. 

There are so many around. Instructors and audience and all the people that it takes to keep an infrastructure like this running: janitors and receptionists and the guy that refills the coffee machine in the fourth floor break room. Anyone in hearing distance that day notices. It’s like that sometimes. You can go weeks and months and nothing sticks, even the pieces that get rebroadcast, they run together at some point. It’s beautiful, amazing, but there’s filters to restock and inquiries to respond to. There’s a leaky water heater that needs tending to. But for a minute, you stop, lean on the broom and take notice.

But not Barry and Lup, alone, finally, despite the people surrounding them. Their music is still echoing around them when their hands find one another. 

Lup and Barry, alone on stage. Two paths that have run side by side, so close for so long, join at last.

There’s applause and then the song is sent out anew, reflected from deep within the mountain instead of from her violin and his piano. There’s applause and an empty stage.

Alone, finally.

 ---

 There’s a pillar of bone carved with arcane symbols. There on the hill, two people lean together, forehead to forehead. Further away another watches. But in this instant there’s no one else. Seven on this planet yes. Eight if you count their strange, duck loving new shipmate. 

But for now. On this hill. In this moment.

There are only two. 

Two liches.

Alone, finally, after years of study.

And then like so many times before, they pick up their responsibilities and work and pull it all back on like a costume they only ever drop for a little while.

In those moments they are alone.

 ---

 He’s alone.

This was the final place. It was supposed to be… 

His shoulders sag. It was supposed to be their happy ending, their settled-at-last, their no-more-running. 

But he woke up and she wasn’t there.

It felt different. He didn’t say it, but it did.

And then morning turned to day turned to week turned to months.

He’s alone.

 ---

 Exhaustion wears them down, hang like too-heavy cloaks on backs that can’t stand tall without her. 

He’d been alone.

But feeling the last of her disappear - the her that was only in his memories - he knows what alone really means. He can’t lose her that way, not again, not like this.

“Taako, k- kill me! Right now!”

 He’s falling.

Forgetting.

Forgotten.

Alone.

Final.

y

 ---

 He’s alone. There is so much that makes no sense. Three guys - one of them made of fucking wood if you could believe it - and him naked in a tank full of goo. 

Then he got in the one guy’s pocket? Somehow?

The details are fuzzy.

But dammit, he’s happy. Something feels right. After so long. (How long?)

He’s alone.

Alone, but -

Finally.

 ---

 Who’d have guessed this was a skill? The ultimate hangover and when you got that giant memory dump poured on you every time you did something stupid like fell off a cliff or didn’t bring enough water into the desert… well, you got better at it.

So while the others recovered, he was alone, the only one not under fire from a million contradicting thoughts.

Alone, Finally.

At the end.

And then… and then… his brain comes up empty at the thought. And then?

Alone?

 ---

 The pale green glow throws strange shadows across the cave. There was a ball of brilliant fire but, well, anchoring yourself in a body after a decade out of practice took some concentration. And he didn’t exactly have the concentration himself.

After so long. After everything. After endless nights in this very cave, planning and plotting and hoping.

Alone.

And then.

Finally.

Alone together.

[wearfinethingsalltoowell]

@turq8 “They” forgot him at port it’s okay you can just say Izzy left him out of spite

Characters who I really want a backstory for

-Olu (I love him)

-Izzy (would be a useful data point in my study of him)

-Lucius (something happened to him and I want to know what)

-Pete (was he really on Blackbeard’s crew?)

[desiree-harding-fic]

So where is Edward in the ReJEANcy AU? Lydia has to have shared her evil plans with him, right?

He’s...around. They’re definitely co-conspiring together in the background just recreationally ruining the lives of everyone they meet and not letting any of them realize they were the reason shit went south. I’m just imagining them as they are in taz where people’s suffering sustains them. They live to watch people’s lives fall apart and cause maximum pain in the process. This isn’t the first time they’ve pulled this con.

Maybe he briefly tries to get in with Taako and it doesn’t go anywhere. It’s harder to ruin a young bachelor’s life than it is to ruin a young lady’s.

(The réal answer is I don’t feel clued into him the same way I do to her so I haven’t bothered to actually write him 😂)

[anonsally]

turq8 replied to your post: Fun Day in Baltimore

Oh no shit, i was at inner harbor earlier today that’s wild!!

Oh, how funny! I wonder if we passed each other without realising it!

itsnotliketherearehillshere replied to your post: Fun Day in Baltimore

Those world cup results tho! Looking very scary for Mexico tbh

Yeah, I haven’t checked who they will likely face in the Round of 16, but it’s not like it will be an easy tournament! I just want them to do better than they have the last few times... 

[ifoundaflamingsword]

12,20,33,59,74,100

The answers for you my love:

12: what’s your favorite planet? - Venus! I’ve always had an affinity for symbols of love

20: what’s your favorite eye color? - I’ve been staring into a lot of brown eyes lately…

33: what’s your fave pastry? - croissants!!!

59: what’s your favorite myth? - a man watching Artemis bathe gets whats coming to him by being hunted. #mood

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. - Astronomy and podcast obsessed bi always wearing red lipstick.

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? - the future obviously. My past is sad, miserable, my future is looking bright and hopeful

[warrenkoles]

When have they proven those things? The campaign is a fast paced one, certainly. Everyone is trying to make the most of the time that we have and the momentum of the movement as we hope for it to be picked up by another company. Sometimes mistakes are made, and we can't learn from them if no one tells us.

SOFMD was created as a democratic campaign in direct result of the issues that we saw happen with Renew as a Crew, but there are moderators that are guiding the campaign and particularly this fundraiser. They are listed on the billboard FAQ which has been promoted with the other posts about the initiative on their socials: https://www.projects.saveofmd.com/ in this FAQ and on their ko-fi too is a complete breakdown of each goal, & the selected charities that will receive any excess.

They also have a general financial transparency statement as well: https://ofmd-renewal-repo.knowledgeowl.com/help/sofmdc-transparency-policy (which again has been promoted along with this initiative for people to view if they have concerns). If there are still concerns that haven't been addressed let us know.

& yes...your entire argument about "return on investment" is that people aren't actually going to see the billboard. Both turq8 and I have made responses to those claims (as Americans) and why we feel that the original pictures shown from Google maps are misleading. You also make the statement that there isn't a tube station near it, when you can literally see in the left hand corner of the Google maps screenshot of your post that shows there is a tube station across from the venue.

You also took those tags from a different post of mine, which was not on any of my responses here, in which I do say that it was inspired by misinformation I am seeing about this campaign (which is not just your post - it is many posts across platforms) because I am thinking about the widespread consequences of misinformation as a whole when it comes to topics with much more consequence than this one, and it's as a whole that we've all become pretty terrible at fact checking. I can understand the confusion and I apologize for the implication, as it was written late at night and I was feeling a bit emotional. But that post has 0 notes & is again being manipulated away from its whole context. It's hard not to feel like your post is written with intent to mislead like this.

so. the save ofmd billboard in london.

stop fucking donating. because you're picturing this

when you're actually getting this

it's not a street with heavy footfall. it's not a significant location. it's not on the way to a tube station or anything else that would make it a highly travelled street.

vue is where you go to pay £5 to see a movie. this isn't going to be djenks taking a selfie in times square. this is going to be a random street in london with a 10 second billboard getting ignored bc everyone walking past has better things to do than look up from their phone

[hydraxx]

turq8 replied to your photo: this is just…. the ultimate encapsulation of my...

i have… many questions about both this status and your tags

please, ask them, and i will do my goddamned best to explain the travesty that is my family

[triflesandparsnips]

Meanwhile: Am I done with the Javid Denkins nonsense? Ahahahaha no.

Specifically, here, have an episode of the podcast I co-host where we collaboratively gonch the second season (and third) of the fake, AU-of-OFMD show Blow the Man Down:

As a note, I reference extensively @turq8's spreadsheet of "known" BTMD canon, for which: THANK YOU.

We dropped this episode now because:

Our Flag Means Death is dropping in LESS THAN TEN DAYS, this is as normal as I can be about it: coercing my siblings into talking for hours about an alternate universe of it

I reference it during the ep, but I'm also coauthoring a presentation and poster for the Fan Studies Network North America conference in October... and it's all about creating fake media to grow real feelings, using the parallel examples of Goncharov (where it happened organically) and, TA DA, Blow the Man Down (where it was purposefully seeded and managed)

...and I am not above using my siblings to think through my nonsense out loud, they are evidently my personal Warhol Factory of absolute bullshit and I wish I felt more shame about it

[sulkybbarnes]

turq8 replied to your post “[[MOR] so I have a “friend” that I’ve known online since I was 16...”

I'm white but like... you don't owe this girl anything. It can be really hard to cut ties with someone who used to be such a good friend, but if she's behaving like this, she's not your friend anymore. Friends should have a net positive effect on you, and it sounds like she's constantly patronizing you and making you upset.

You're absolutely within your rights to say "I can't talk to you anymore, you're really patronizing and you constantly delegitimize my feelings" and then block her so she can't bug you about it on twitter and she can't comment or message you anymore (idk if you talked to her on any other platforms, but block her on those two if you can)

yeah, you’re completely right honestly and I know that’s what I’d advice anyone to do because I realise how toxic she is being. like logically I know that what she’s doing is unfair and rude at best, and she’s said some really racist stuff to me before about my race/religion that I have ignored but also. I met her at a really tough time in my life and she used to be one of my closest friends and that’s the only thing holding me back at the moment. but yeah I think the best option at this point is to block her. thanks buddy <3

[thelaurenshippen]

Is there a sizing chart for the shirts in the TBS merch store? I'm asking specifically about the Stay Strange tank top, but do they tend to run small/large or anything?

There are sizing charts for a couple of the clothes but it looks like not for all of them...I would say they run pretty true to size, but the tank in particular is fairly long?

Hope that helps!

[elftwink]

@turq8 replied to your post “@nayawilliams replied to your post: idk how to...”

Damien was only the "big bad" of the first two seasons (and really the second one mostly) bc Wadsworth & the AM hadn't been properly introduced yet. Now that they have been & we know how much of a threat they pose to the mains, Damien just seems like... an annoyance in comparison. Joan is scared of the AM in a way that she never really was afraid of Damien, & from some of Lauren's comments, it seems like we're moving farther into that world this season

yeah like damien’s still trash as hell and could wreak some havoc before his story totally wraps up and probably will but i def think the AM is going to be the bigger concern this season and i dont see damien having the same spotlight and there’s maybe a couple ways i can think of to keep him around without it being too much of a drain? but i also feel like if he stuck around too long he would feel like a distraction from the main plot if u know what i mean