#was it a revolutionary acceptance that all women can do whatever they want forever? no.

[butchviking]

if someone said some shit like "i love being butch i love that i dont have to shave or wear makeup or conform to femininity" and someone was like "um. you don't have to be butch to do any of that" and they were like "yeah but you will be punished for nonconformity as a woman so its freeing to me to have an identity that reminds me i dont have to be what im expected to be and i can have a community that accepts me for that" i think radblr would be like yeah fair enough.

so explain why i always see this with some snarky comments attached

[0lshadyl0]

Hi! Can I request Yandere! Headcanons for Sabo and Benn from One Piece? I loved the ones you did for Shanks🙈. Tysm in advance 😙💙

I am glad that you like pumpkin 

since you didn’t specify the gender it will be female pronouns

Yandere Sabo headcanons

• It is a bit scary to think of this guy as a Yandere and I will explain why

• Of the three of the ASL brothers, he is the most deceptive, because of his chivalrous and kind appearance, he also tends to be a bit sadistic

• By sadistic I don't mean that he hurt his darling, he would never do that, after all, he is a Yandere protector... unless you try to escape, in that case, say goodbye to your legs for a while because he'll be going to break them and it's going to hurt like hell

• For you to learn the lesson, remember, he did not want to do it, but you forced him, because yes, he is a manipulator, he has a great talent for mental games • But when I speak of sadistic I mean it because everyone around you is in danger of being attacked by Sabo • As soon as he fixes his eyes on you, all men (except Luffy and in a perfect world where he is not dead Ace) are a threat and if they are too affectionate with you he will make sure they never come near you again

• Don't worry, he won't kill them the first time, but I'm sure none of them would want to push their luck a second time • Oh yes, I did not mention you before, but he is from the group of yanderes who kills threats or what he considers competition, but at least he is one of the few who gives a second chance, and if you happen to like are women then ... • Suddenly he has just forgotten that he is a gentleman who drinks the respecting women juice 

• In front of you, he is an elegant gentleman with a kind smile, always looking out for you, in case you need help or are in danger, as I said before, he is a protective Yandere, your safety comes first • Sabo will always be looking for a way to help you and make your life easier, he will accompany you everywhere, he will buy you things that attract your attention and he will even share his food, do you know how much that means? I am not exaggerating when I say you are the only one with whom he has shared his food • He is also a Stalker, that training to become a revolutionary is coming out very convenient now.

• I honestly do not believe that he will kidnap you because he values freedom very much, yes, Sabo wants you to always be by his side and to know where you are always but not if it is due to the fact that you are locked in a room and chained to a bed or wall • If not, and because of bad luck you end up in danger, the first one will rescue you, the second will scold you a little and the third will not allow you to get out of their sight. • breach that or try to leave and see how we will go to the part where he breaks your legs • Although it is scary, you may lose most, if not all, your friends or you have no privacy, Sabo is one of the most bearable yanderes if you are intelligent as well as knowing how to play your cards, you may have a normal relationship with him, just do not keep any secrets and for the  love of whatever you believe, DO NOT show interest in another person

• because even though it may not seem like it, Sabo is a very jealous person

Yandere Benn Beckman headcanons

I'll be honest with you, I know very little about Beckman, after all, I have the understanding that he is not that he has appeared much in the series, but I will see what I can do with the little information I have, so this may come out a bit oc with him, but hey, don't let it be said that we didn't try

• Benn gives me the feeling that, despite looking like a laid-back man who takes things easy, he's not really like that. • We could say that he goes by the specter of the paranoid Yandere • I mean, his outward appearance is a vile lie compared to what is inside his mind, he is always worried about what might happen to you. • It's not that he mistrusted you, on the contrary, he trusts you a lot, in fact, that is why you have never seen the dark side of him to the point that you think that he is an ordinary person

• In fact, on the yandere scale of my One Piece universe, he is on the side of the least dangerous for his Darling, since he would not hurt you even to punish you • He would use the old guilt trip technique and although he hates to make you feel bad, it is for your good, you are too innocent and this world is so cruel... • Who Benn doesn't trust is everyone else except his captain • He has the thought that everyone tries to hurt you and take advantage of you to a lesser or greater extent, that is something that the pirate could not accept • That is why he keeps you by his side and tries to teach you as much as possible so that you can defend yourself. • Because he is the type of Yandere with enough sanity to know that he will not last you forever, he is already a man over fifty years old and the pirate job is not very safe to say despite being under the command of a Yonkou • So he wants you to learn as much as possible, for when he lacks you, no one can abuse you • He is quite soft and the way he talks is so attractive, full of wisdom, with affectionate words, that sooner or later you will be willing to have a closer relationship with him

• Oh yes, he knows how to talk to women, surely in his youth, he was a real casanova • He does not like you to be with other men, not because he is jealous and will hurt them (which he would only do if they try to overstep with you), but because he is afraid that they will do something bad to you, in addition to that he is also insecure of himself, after all, as I told you, he is a man and youth has abandoned him a long time ago (still looks hot to me but whatever you think Benn) 

• I can say that he is a Yandere that you cannot manipulate because of how supremely intelligent he is, but he hardly restricts anything since his only goal is for you to be very happy and with him as much as possible. • If you decide to have a relationship with him and get married, that would make him very happy, but if you don't want to, that's fine, just don't take him away from your life or you'll see how the dark side of him starts to come out • definitely this man is suitable for both romantic and platonic Yandere (I speak for you readers with daddy issues, this is your yandere, he won't abandon you to go for cigarettes)

[creative-type]

wake from death (and return to life) iv

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564141/chapters/53920291

Previous: https://creative-type.tumblr.com/post/621667466339385344/wake-from-death-and-return-to-life-chapter-iii

.

Kuina spent the next three days learning her way around Belo Betty’s ship. As promised, Dragon soon departed, disappearing like a mirage on a hot day, gone as if he’d never existed. He had been the one person who seemed to actually wanted Kuina on board, and with him gone Kuina felt quite alone. She spent her days doing what Lyudmila told her to do, when she told her to do them, fulfilling the obligation she had to the Revolution for getting her out of Loguetown and hoping it was enough to keep them from throwing her headfirst into the sea.

Practically speaking, that meant doing dozens of chores while Revolutionaries showed her the ropes. Literally. Kuina spent much of her time cleaning what needed to be cleaned, hauling what needed to be hauled, and mending what needed to be mended while learning the basics of sailcraft. Darareaksmey in particular seemed to take great delight in mocking Kuina’s ignorance, which according to the other crew meant she liked her.

The work was a welcome distraction, reminding Kuina of the menial chores she used to do around the dojo before she was old enough to learn the sword. And more importantly, the people around her liked to talk. The Revolution never openly discussed their plans when she was around, but Kuina was such a silent fixture that they seemed to forget when she was in the background swabbing the deck, or washing dishes, or whatever other odd job she’d been assigned at that moment.

What she learned was illuminating. Belo Betty wasn’t just some Revolutionary nobody—she was in command of the entire East Blue. The ship Kuina was currently on was hers, Dragon somehow able to manage travel by himself from the Grand Line for a mission of strategic importance.

Aria de Gris was another leader, but of only a single ship that had been damaged in the previous battle. She and a portion of her crew had joined with Betty to see Dragon back to the Grand Line and talk strategy. Dragon had never planned to return with them to the battlefield, his departure interrupted by Kuina’s sudden appearance.

It was childish, but Kuina bitterly wished he would have just taken her with her. She could feel Zoro’s lead stretching by the second, and the thought of falling even further behind made her want to pull her hair out.

The Army wasn’t even going to let her fight.

“Better,” Dara said as she inspected the rope she’d given for Kuina to practice her sailor’s knots. “This one almost looks like it’d hold together during an East Blue squall.”

If she was nervous about their nearing destination, she didn’t show it. With quick, nimble fingers she undid Kuina’s handiwork and returned the rope. “Now do it faster.”

Kuina grudgingly did as she was told. The noonday sun beat down overhead, cooled by a delicious sea breeze. After three days Kuina was almost used to the sway of the ship, but didn’t think she could ever feel comfortable surrounded by so many people crammed in such a small space. “I don’t know why you bother. I’ll be gone in a few days.” Kuina said.

“Pfft, you wouldn’t last a week on the Grand Line in your state,” Dara said. “You’re lucky you’re a quick study—it took Lizard three times as long to get half as good as you are now.”

“I can hear you,” Elizabeth said irritably as she passed out rations to Kuina and the women minding her. The galley had been made into a makeshift war room debating last-minute preparations for landing later that day, with Lyudmila given strict instructions to shoot Kuina if she went within twenty feet of its doors.

“I know,” Dara said breezily. “That’s why I said it.”

Elizabeth made a rude gesture that only made Dara laugh. Scowling, Elizabeth asked, “What are you even doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in the meeting? It sounded important.”

“Boss knows I don’t have the patience for that kind of stuff,” Dara said. “She’ll let me know what I need to know. This is much more amusing.” She turned her attention to Kuina. “Watch out, you’re tying it backwards again.”

Kuina gave it another attempt. “Where are we even going?”

Elizabeth and Dara exchanged looks before turning to Lyudmila, awaiting her judgement. Kuina held her breath, giving up on even the pretext of industry. Of everything she’d overheard, no one had breathed a word of their ultimate destination, let alone any details about the supposed war that was being waged there. The veritable brick wall only whetted Kuina’s curiosity.

Sometimes she regretted not reading the paper.

“You can’t keep it from me forever,” Kuina pointed out. “Is it Tolouse?”

Elizabeth let out a huff and turned away, giving a sarcastic wave as she walked back to the galley. “I’m not getting into trouble for this.”

“Coward!” Dara called before grinning at Kuina. “How’d you figure it out?”

“Been headed dead east for three days. There aren’t that many islands it could be,” Kuina said. She shrugged, picking at the ropes. “Besides, you hear a lot of interesting things from the pirates who come from that way. The king doesn’t seem all that popular—easy to stir up trouble there.”

“You’re half-right,” Dara said.

“Dara…” Lyudmila said in a warning tone.

“Fine, fine,” she said, flopping dramatically on her back, hands tucked behind her head. “The big fight’s over anyway. This is just a pitstop.”

“To switch ships?” Kuina said, glancing at Lyudmila. As always, it was difficult to guess what she was thinking, but she made no further effort to censure their conversation.

“And gather the rest of our crew, yeah,” Dara said. “Then we’re getting the hell out of this backwater and going back to where we belong. East Blue is bor-ing. Don’t know why Boss was so interested in coming, to be honest.”

There was a pause, and Dara turned over to her stomach, propping her head up on her hands. Her eyes flickered to Lyudmila, who shook her head slightly. She sighed. “Haven’t had a decent fight in weeks.”

“You just came from a war,” Kuina said, nonplussed.

“An East Blue war,” Dara corrected. “And thus one that was very boring. Everyone knows East Blue isn’t worth anything in a fight.”

Kuina smirked. “Maybe you haven’t been fighting the right people.”

The glint in Dara’s eyes turned wicked. “Sweetheart, I like you. In fact, I think you’re hilarious. But you underestimate the strength of the Grand Line, and it’s going to get you killed if you’re not careful.”

“Maybe, but all I’ve heard is a lot of talk without anything to back it up,” Kuina said.

“That’s bait,” Dara said, grinning, “and I’ll not bite—Oh hello there, Boss. How’s tricks?”

Kuina didn’t jump, but her hand did move instinctively to her katana as de Gris exited the galley, breaking away from a cluster of Revolutionaries exiting the war room to approach them. She acknowledged Dara’s greeting with a nod. “The situation’s changed.”

Lyudmila went very still, while Dara and Kuina exchanged confused looks. “How do you mean, Boss?” Dara asked.

“Reinforcements arrived before the Revolution could completely secure their defenses. They punched a hole through our line and recaptured the armory, jammed communications, the works. We’re lucky Trini was able to get a message through at all. It sounds like the situation’s hot and not in our favor.”

“What?!” Dara exclaimed. “We had the city completely taken! Their king was in chains.”

“Not anymore,” de Gris said.

Dara jumped to her feet. “What about the rest of the crew?”

“As far as I know they’re fine, but we’re going to need all hands on deck if we’re going to scrape out a win.” She looked down at Kuina, the scar running down her cheek pulling her mouth into an unhappy grimace. “Alright, Swordsman. Time for you to put your money where your mouth is.”

Far above them, the Revolutionary flag snapped proudly in the wind. Eyes narrowed with suspicion, Kuina tried to discern the older woman’s intentions. “You’re going to let me fight?”

“I need to make sure you’re good enough to not die. Big difference.” With a whisper of steel, de Gris unsheathed her sword. “Prove to me there’s some bite behind all that bark.”

Beside her, Dara paled. “Boss, you can’t be serious…”

“It’s just a skill check. I need to know what level she’s at, and this is the easiest way to do it.”

They didn’t think she could win. Kuina threw the rope she’d been working on aside and climbed to her feet. Bowing slightly to de Gris, she said, “I’m honored to accept your challenge.”

“What are you, some kind of samurai?” de Gris paused to fish out a cigarette, putting it to her lips and lighting it one-handed. “You have till I finish this to show—”

In a flash her blade was up to meet Kuina’s. Even holding it one-handed, de Gris was able to effortlessly stop the full weight of Kuina’s blow. Dara and Lyudmila scattered as a cat’s grin stretched across de Gris’ face, smoke curling from the end of her cigarette. “Not bad, not bad at all. And here I thought you were nothing but dojo trash.”

She pushed Kuina back, and for a moment the two circled one another, each trying to get a measure of their opponent. Kuina was vaguely aware that they had attracted the attention of the rest of the Revolution, and saw Lyudmila whispering fiercely in the ear of Belo Betty.

“Eyes on me, kid!” de Gris shouted before exploding in a flurry of strikes. Her movements were unlike anything Kuina had ever seen. With impossible quickness she closed the distance between them. Her footwork, the angles she used to attack, were all new and unfamiliar. Kuina, used to fighting against sabers and katanas, was quickly driven to the defensive, each reaction a heartbeat too slow to do anything else as she tried to process the foreign fighting style.

De Gris moved with liquid grace, reminding Kuina more of a dancer than a swordsman as she fought. Each step was economical and precise, her blade flashing from every angle, seemingly simultaneously. Kuina was forced to take a step back, then another, but was quickly running out of room to retreat.

But even as she was being driven back, Kuina began to sense the pattern in her steps, the method to her mad dance. The rapier a piercing weapon. It depended on thrusts and parries over slashing attacks. The blade didn’t have the mass to manage a single, crushing blow, relying instead on speed and precision.

Well then. It was time to disrupt de Gris’ timing.

Kuina feinted a forward thrust, and in the half-second it took de Gris to defend jumped backward onto the ship’s railing. A ripple of surprise rose through the crowd as she ran across the iron rails until she reached the middle of the ship, leaping toward the boom of the foremast.

“Very impressive, if you’re a monkey,” de Gris called. “But I thought you were going to fight—”

But Kuina didn’t stop. She caught an unsecured line and used her momentum to swing behind de Gris, aiming an attack at her exposed back. As expected, de Gris was able to evade with ease, and the bones in Kuina’s arms jolted with the force of her blade cutting through the deck before somersaulting back to her feet.

“You don’t like giving people time to talk, do you,” de Gris said. “And you do realize we have to actually sail on this ship, right?”

“Send me a bill,” Kuina said, grinning wildly. She pulled her sword from the wood in time to deflect de Gris’ rapier, melting from defense to offense as she tried to use their reversed positions to force de Gris into the same limited space she had just escaped from.

It was damnably difficult. De Gris wasn’t the strongest opponent Kuina had faced, but she was the most technically proficient. It had been years since Kuina had needed this level of focus in a fight, and she could feel the rust in her movements.

Without even realizing it, she’d let herself grow complacent, and de Gris was exposing that weakness now.

All the more reason to get to the Grand Line as soon as possible. The East Blue had nothing more to offer her. On the world stage it was nothing, which meant she was nothing...

Blood roared in Kuina’s ears as she failed to get anywhere near de Gris. Kuina took greater risks, forced her body to move all the faster to match her opponent’s feline grace. De Gris’s thin, weightless blade was no match to Shimotsuki steel, and Kuina put the full weight of her rage behind each attack.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered a flicker of surprise in de Gris’s eyes a moment before Kuina’s blade clashed against her own. With a quick flick of the wrist Kuina batted it aside, just as de Gris had done at the start of her fight, using her own momentum against her to gain inside position.

Kuina attacked without thinking, and she was lucky de Gris was as fast as she was. Her blade passed by the tip of her nose by a hairbreadth, slicing what was left of her cigarette down to the pale orange filter.

The silence couldn’t have lasted for more than a moment, but it felt like it captured an eternity. De Gris’s eyes followed the path of the still-burning cigarette now rolling down at their feet. She sighed, sheathing her sword and said, almost to herself, “Is that all?”

“What do you mean?” Kuina demanded. “Clearly I—”

“You had until the cigarette was gone to show what you were made of. Well, time’s up. This fight is over.”

“You’re just scared because I was winning,” Kuina said.

The words struck a nerve. A muscle in de Gris’s jaw twitched and her nostrils flared slightly as the air around her shifted, circling like the winds of a hurricane with de Gris as its malevolent eye. Kuina shifted back into a defensive stance, keeping half an eye on Belo Betty. The Revolutionary commander had her arms crossed over her chest, flag nowhere in sight.

“You really thought you had a chance,’ de Gris said. “You couldn’t feel the distance between us.” She shook her head in disgust. “And you call yourself a swordsman.”

She reached for another cigarette, paused to take a deep drag. When she finally looked at Kuina, she saw nothing but contempt.

“Hit me with your best shot, kid,” Aria de Gris said, raising her sword in languid challenge. “I’ll show you how much you have yet to learn.”

Kuina’s grip on her sword tightened. The blood boiling in her veins had calmed enough for her to realize she’d said a very stupid thing when surrounded by a ship full of enemies who likely wanted to kill her, but she wasn’t afraid of de Gris or her sword, and her pride refused to back down from such a grievous insult.

This was her chance to prove herself to these people.

Kuina took a deep breath, steadied her racing heart. She could feel the power around de Gris. The older woman was settled, like a table with a low center of gravity. She wouldn’t be easily overturned, but Kuina was confident. She was ready. She had trained her whole life for this moment, for the chance to be acknowledged as a skilled swordsman and not just a little girl playing with a blade

Her father once said that a true warrior wielded the blade of ten thousand men. Maybe she wasn’t there yet, but she was worth more than this one.

Kuina lifted her katana above her head, ready to end this in one strike. “Thousand man—”

De Gris was inside her guard before she could finish speaking.

Kuina moved on instinct, but de Gris batted her sword aside as if it were an inconvenient fly. With her free hand she reached inside the long coat hanging from her shoulders. In one fluid moment she pulled out a gun, cocked it, and pushed the cold metal barrel under Kuina’s chin.

It was horror in slow motion. Kuina flung herself back just as de Gris shouted, “Dara, now!”

An unseen force plowed into the back of Kuina’s knees. She crumpled face-first into the deck, white light flashing across her vision as her forehead cracked against the wood. Attempts to roll away were stopped by a pressure against the wrist of her sword hand and a vice-like grip around her ankles.

Kuina looked up to see Aria de Gris’s foot on her wrist and her gun between her eyes. Twisting frantically, Kuina couldn’t help but let out a yelp of alarm that Darareaksmey’s arms, head, and torso had her legs pinned firmly to the ground, the rest of her body seemingly melded with the deck.

“What the hell?!” Kuina exclaimed. “This was a duel! You...you cheated!”

“It was a skill check,” de Gris said flatly. “Do you think people in a war are going to line up for you all nice and neat, one at a time? Do you think they’re going to play by some arbitrary rules?”

She lowered her gun and sheathed her sword. “I’ve no use for a soldier with more ego than common sense. I don’t care how big a hot-shot you were in your little backwater dojo. In the real world, you aren’t worth shit.”

Xxx

“You know, you don’t have anything to be ashamed of. I’ve not seen anyone do that well against the boss in, well, a long time.”

“Please stop talking, I am begging you.”

Kuina ground the heels of her palms against her forehead, hoping to counterbalance the terrible pounding currently beating against the inside of her skull. She’d suffered from headaches on and off since being pushed down the stairs of her father’s dojo, and falling face-first into the deck had triggered a monster between her temples.

Dara was undeterred. “I wondered why Dragon wanted you so bad, but I can definitely see it.”

The island of Toulouse was a tiny speck on the horizon. With a favorable wind at their back, they’d soon arrive at the near-hopeless battle. Kuina didn’t know what was going to happen to her once they did, and worse, she didn’t care.

With the change in situation, Lyudmila had been relieved of babysitting duty in favor of joining the rest of the ship’s leadership in their makeshift war room. The mood of the Revolution had shifted, men and women moving with increased urgency as they sharpened weapons, prepared guns, and tried to coax every bit of speed from the brigantine, their faces drawn in grim, serious lines. Every once in a while a bark of nervous laughter would punctuate the air like cannonshot, but it was quickly hushed. Everyone knew that the situation was dire.

Dara, whose disregard for meetings extended even when the Revolution was on the verge of defeat, had taken over Kuina-watching duty. But even her enthusiasm had its limits, and every few minutes she would look out at the approaching island, squint as if she were trying to suss out the enemy position on that tiny black speck, her knee bouncing with nervous energy.

“Wonder what Boss will have you do,” she said absentmindedly.

“Probably nothing,” Kuina said. “You heard her: She’s got no use for me.”

Dara snorted. “Oh, please. Compared to the trouble I got myself into when I first joined, that was nothing. It’s an, ah...learning process. Being part of a group, I mean.”

That wasn’t very reassuring, but Kuina had no desire to argue. “What the hell was that trick you did, anyway? I never saw you coming.”

“Oh, my devil fruit?” Dara said, eyes brightening. She raised an arm, and in the time it took Kuina to blink, the space from her hand to her elbow went paper thin. The change was so sudden, so utterly bizarre, that Kuina couldn’t help but recoil away from it. Dara laughed, and just as quickly put her arm back to rights again.

“Flat Flat Fruit,” she explained. “Not much good for fighting, but sneaking around? Easy-breezy.”

“Just how many devil fruit users are on this ship?” Kuina asked.

“Right now? I don’t know everyone on Betty’s crew, but I think it’s just three. Once we hook up the rest of the crew there’ll be a couple more to show you.” Another squinting look at the horizon, more bouncing of her knee.

There was a comfortable lull in the conversation while Kuina massaged her aching head. A gull screeched overhead, making at least one Revolutionary jump. The moment quickly passed, and Dara slapped her palms against her thighs. “Well, I need to get ready. You just brought that backpack with you, right? You don’t have any armor or anything to put on, just in case?”

Just her mask. Kuina lugged herself to her feet and followed Dara belowdecks. For the first time, no one was paying attention to her, the Revolutionaries too busy with their own preparations. Kuina was glad to be invisible once more. Despite Dara’s reassurances, shame coiled around her belly, constricting like a snake squeezing the life out of its latest meal. It was impossible to walk with her head held high after her disgraceful performance. De Gris’s voice echoed in her mind, conflating with the voice of countless others she’d heard since childhood. The scar that drug across her chest pulsed with her head, bringing to the forefront the weakness she thought she’d long ago left behind.

You aren’t worth shit.

The words were short, concise, and painfully blunt, but they were also the truth. And for that, she had no one to blame but herself.

They passed by Elizabeth’s little workshop on the way to their quarters. When she saw the door was open, Dara paused to poke her head inside. The assistant cook was deep at work dividing what appeared to be dozens of firecrackers into different piles.

“Hey Lizard, got any goodies for me?” Dara asked.

Elizabeth didn’t look up from the task in front of her. “On the back shelf.”

Dara clasped her hands in front of her gave Elizabeth a tiny, mocking bow that was returned with a raised middle finger.

“Gracious as always,” Dara said once she returned to Kuina’s side. “C’mon, we’re wasting daylight.”

“Is she…?”

“Our munitions expert?” Dara said. “Yes. Yes she is.” She hugged a little baggie close to her chest like it was a lover. “Her food might be garbage, but I’m pretty sure that’s because she’s testing some new long-acting poison without telling anyone.”

“I can still hear you!”

“Seems like an odd mix of jobs,” Kuina said.

Dara shrugged. “Cooking, catastrophic explosions...it’s all chemistry, really. Lizard here just happens to be better at one form more than the other. Isn’t that right, Lizard?”

Elizabeth had stormed to the doorway while she was speaking. She hardly came up to Dara’s shoulder, but she carried herself with the same energy of a lady’s lap dog that thought itself a wolf. “Go. Away. And stop blabbing to the stowaway. She’s not on our side.”

Dara’s grin showed entirely too many teeth. “Wanna bet?”

“I’m not a stowaway,” Kuina said at the same time. There was a pause as what Dara said sunk in, and both she and Elizabeth looked up at her with disbelief.

“You’re crazy,” Elizabeth said. “A hundred berries says she bails at the first opportunity.”

“I’ll put down five that she stays.”

“Your loss,” Elizabeth said, and she slammed the door in their face.

Dara looked for a moment like she wanted to shout something through the door but thought better of it. She put her little baggie into her pocket and said, “You better not run on me. I don’t actually have five hundred berries.”

“It was a stupid bet,” Kuina said. “I’m not joining the Revolution.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I saw how pissed you were when the boss pulled that gun on you. You’re not going to be happy till you beat her in a fair fight, no matter how long it takes.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and Kuina wondered if, just maybe, she was right.

[kinetic-elaboration]

January 27: Thoughts on The 100 2x09, Remember Me

...For some reason I was really angry at the beginning of this? Also there’s a lot of Lxa bashing. Sorry. And some Clarke criticism but in the latter case, I mean it well.

Also this is really long whoops.

*

So...I miss when killing off main characters was a big deal and people actually reacted to it.

I truly cannot take Lxa seriously I’m sorry. I don’t find her... intimidating at all.

I’ve already complained repeatedly about her complete bad faith deal making at every turn so I won’t go into it again but nevertheless, here she is, again, moving the goal posts of the negotiation. ‘I’ll withdraw my army if you cure the Reapers. No, if you give up your friend. No, if you give me his body.’ Clarke should have double crossed her immediately.

Also I know that I ultimately did think it was reasonable for Finn to face Grounder justice (except insofar as that justice was itself morally untenable--that is, the Torture Porn) but now that he’s dead, I think there’s no real moral argument to be made that the Grounders deserve his body. I understand their traditions, which in fact I found quite moving when I first watched this ep, but surely his people have, or could make up, some traditions for his burial also. He is still their friend. This seems like little more than an excuse to be cruel. And Clarke’s so fucking broken she just goes with it. It’s truly awful. I mean she’s doing the only thing she can do I guess but it’s laughable that she sounds as if she has any sort of upper hand, you’re getting played bitch.

(Yeah I know, Lxa is being ‘groundbreaking’ and ‘revolutionary’ by even semi-accepting capital punishment without torture and taking his body is a way of appeasing her harder line advisers but like cry me a river--she’s either the all powerful commander or she’s fucking not.)

“We want the same things.” Lol if you wanted the same things you would have stuck to the original deal. No I’m not over this at all I guess.

I also still can’t get over how Clarke has literally never earned true leadership in the eyes of her own people and yet she continues to be randomly viewed as a leader by the Grounders and thus retains pretty much full de facto control over her own people’s power structure.

Also Kane shut the fuck up. I completely forgot about this but they really did put him through an off-screen 180 where all of a sudden Lxa is a God to him and can literally do nothing wrong and to this day we have never been given an explanation how that came to be. Guess it’s easier to tell not show huh?!?

ALSO I get we’re suppose to see a sort of racism-corollary to lines like “I don’t think they know what peace is” like obviously this rubs one the wrong way automatically. But Abby’s not really wrong. And despite what Kane thinks, Lxa has given, again, NO indication at all that she is interested in peace. She has given a lot of indications that she wants to do whatever she can to wring as much from the Sky People as she can without giving anything in return and hey we’re only halfway through the season and she’s already psychologically broken Clarke (also the only person she acknowledges as the leader even though she is not, cannot emphasize this enough, the leader of anything... and thus the only person L really has to break) and sunk-cost-fallacy-ed her into submission. Now that Finn is dead Clarke would cut off her own tit to make Lxa happy because anything else is “letting him die in vain.”

...Why am I so angry lol?

I understand the positions of both Clarke and Raven in this scene, which is fucking brutal, but I sympathize more with Raven. Clarke’s basically just a messenger, but what the Grounders are demanding is (I know I already said it) cruel, and cruel to Raven above all. And Clarke is almost all business. I think that’s what she needs to be for herself but it’s not helpful to the situation.

Anyway here are my faves in Mount Weather. It’s almost hard to watch these scenes because I want to, like, memorize them. Partially for the C/M story and partially just because. Today’s adventure is getting to a radio to send a message to the Ark-wide channel, which is a term for a thing that exists. Also I forgot how snarky everyone / Miller was to Maya. Which, I get. But--are they not thinking about how her own people have experimented on her? Like she is expendable to them, this is just a known fact at this time. So yes, there is a real risk to her, Nathan.

“Oh, is that all?” / “No--there’s more.” Monty’s so one-track he didn’t even hear the sarcasm. I love him.

“Their army has been getting their ass kicked by Mount Weather forever.” Bellamy speaking the truth. Do they need the alliance, or do they just need the Grounders to back the fuck off from attacking them? (Spoiler: they do not need the alliance.)

Ah Bellarke, always quick to reassure each other. Blindly, even.

“Since I don’t take orders from you, I’m going to need a better reason” is one of my favorite lines, and underrated. Finally someone reminding Clarke she’s not actually in charge of everyone and everything all the time. (I realize this sounds like I dislike Clarke. I don’t. I just find certain traits of hers frustrating. But this just makes her a good character.) Also you can see that, rather like her moment with Raven, she falls back on being business like and direct and issuing orders to avoid talking about feelings or breaking apart.

The United States War Room survives the apocalypse.

I’m sorry but it’s ridiculous to think that Lxa invented the concept of an alliance lol.

I guess Clarke needs to go all in on the alliance because of Finn, but... I also think this is part of who she is. Her sense of practicality outweighs any human desire to hold a grudge, and I think she assumes a level of practicality in others too, automatically, such that she underestimates wariness in others. Like Bellamy and Gustus and everyone is right to be uncertain about this literally hours-old alliance--not even an official alliance, since L’s latest demand hasn’t technically been met!--and Clarke’s like ‘yeah I’ll sleep next to people who would have killed me six hours ago np!’ because now that she’s in, she’s in. She’s neither angry nor afraid.

Linctavia like “Google Earth, always taking pictures.”

Is Lincoln wearing Ark clothes?

I know Raven is made to look kind of wan and sunken and sad but yet this scene where she’s being disarmed is honestly like peak hotness for me and I don’t know why. I like my women sullen and covered in knives?

Interesting how allegedly only the warriors knew English and yet Lxa’s big announcement re: get in line with me or die is made in English. Just going to point out yet again what a big mistake that throwaway S1 line is.

What a sad life to lead, where random declarations followed by “or death” have to form the entirety of your belief system “Don’t be upset that your wife and child are dead...or I’ll beat you to a pulp.” I truly don’t understand how we were ever supposed to get in line with this society as sympathetic or interesting. So much so that they get a whole prequel I guess???

I’d rather have a Mount Weather prequel except not really, don’t ruin it for me.

I love Miller’s canonical insane superhuman strength. This is a trait often overlooked in fics.

The usual comment on Mount Weather scenes: I love all of it.

The thing is that if everyone were on board with the funeral ceremony, it is touching. Murderer and murdered together, and the people who’ve been hurt, on both sides, saying goodbye as a group. It’s just that Clarke’s people were coerced into this--they weren’t convinced it would be a fitting ceremony, just told ‘well this is how it is and if you don’t like it, we could perhaps... KILL YOU?”

Is this a new revelation that Mount Weather crashed the Exodus ship (still a really satisfying belated explanation imo)? Or did we know that because, unlike Monty et al, we knew about the jamming signals already? Can’t remember.

You can see how L came to believe what she believes but nevertheless this is bad advice lol. “Don’t care about other people.” Okay, I’ll just stop doing that then.

Mmmm, a feast in a subway station. Delicious. Fucking full pig head as the centerpiece. Very DC.

Kane (handing over pure space moonshine probably): Just don’t drink too much of it. Clarke (five minutes later): Guzzles whole bottle at once. #partygriff is officially canon.

Waiting until tomorrow to start the war? Procrastinators. Clarke didn’t kill Finn for this.

I love Certified Dramatic Ho Bellamy knocking the cup out of Clarke’s hand even though she had made no move whatsoever to drink it.

“When you plunged your knife into the heart of the boy you loved, did you not wish that it was mine.” Lxa, also a certified Dramatic Ho.

Clarke kinda deserved to be punched in the face given that it wouldn’t actually make sense for Raven to try to poison Lxa--and make Finn’s death mean nothing? And put them all in danger in enemy territory? Nonsense. Nevertheless it’s hard not to feel bad for her when she follows this accusation up with a psychotic break.

Hmmm, do I think Abby turning in Jake was the same as Clarke killing Finn? Not really. She didn’t directly kill Jake, that was Jaha, and Jaha is who Clarke should really be mad at. That said, I don’t think she was really saving anyone in the direct way Clarke was. So, apples and oranges. Crazy awkward moment to bring it up, though lol. “Oh Clarke, you’ll feel better eventually--remember that time I killed your Dad? I got over that! Wait--does talking about your dead father upset you? That’s a surprise!” Nevertheless I appreciate major actions having consequences as that’s a semi-rarity on this show.

Monty Green: hero.

“Lxa needs this alliance as much as we do.” - True, if she intends to get her people out of MW. “She’s shown herself to be flexible.” - Not true. She’s given the bare minimum of concessions. Kane, please crawl back out of her colon for like 5 seconds, get some air.

Interesting that Raven and Bellamy are chilling near each other. I wonder what they were discussing. Tbh Bellamy’s feelings on everything in this episode are rather opaque. Other than understanding why Clarke mercy-killed Finn and being skeptical of the alliance.

“Kill one person and destroy the alliance” is literally only merciful because the default in this society is “kill everyone all the time for any reason.” Like, I guess??? That’s mercy by comparison?? But forgive me if I am not moved to admiration.

“This time justice will be done” says the woman who used the barest sliver of evidence to decide that a random person was guilty so she could have a public execution. A public execution to replace the other public execution, in fact, not to avenge a death because Gustus isn’t dead. (Yet.)

Kane’s really okay with letting Raven be tortured to death, huh? Gah he’s fucking annoying.

Bellarke: Crime Solving Duo. That’s some satisfying teamwork. Clarke figures out how the scheme worked. Bellamy figures out who’s behind the scheme. With all the evidence put together, the motive becomes clear. (Honesty, they should have been suspicious that the poison not only didn’t kill Gustus, it barely harmed him lol.)

Check out all the Department of Homeland Security stuff on Monty’s computer. This is perhaps Dante’s log in? There’s a set of “personal” files too. And a set of President’s Office files, which one would assume not everyone would have.

Anyway, I have a Thing for tense sequences of hackers...hacking.

When I first watched this season I was often so tense my whole body hurt and it’s mostly because of MW scenes like this one where Monty is caught. Like aaaaah it still gets me. He almost makes it... and then almost makes it again, with his silly little salute... (Never forget that he is A Dork.)

On the one hand, Raven being tortured and then seeing Gustus tortured to death allows her to see why Clarke killing Finn was an act of mercy, to forgive her, and to move on, so the narrative can continue with them as allies and nominal friends. And it works, basically. But I also think there’s something to the theory that they were never the same, that the wound never really healed.

I’m sorry but Octavia’s face when Clarke’s like “Yeah B, you’re expendable, go get yourself killed, have a map!!” is hilarious. Like, he’s just said that Gustus doing anything for Lxa made sense, and Octavia responded with “Look at the thanks he got” which seems to me like She Knows and then 5 seconds later Bellamy is basically thrown away by the person we all know he’d do anything for... I mean the face is fair. Also this is Bellamy’s idea and it’s a good idea and so he was right before and Clarke is also right now, but it’s still so... annoying.... like “okay, I’m done caring about you lol bye.”

And Raven’s just totally confused. It’s been a damn long day I guess.

Why are they all such fucking hotties? It’s hard to pay attention to “the plot.”

So the ashes Abby tries to give to Clarke are the same ashes, perhaps, that Jasper scatters in S3? This vial looks smaller. Why did she not immediately give them to Raven? That would seem to be the obvious thing to do.

And here we see Clarke, under L’s direct influence, becoming Increasingly Insufferable. I love her but this is obviously supposed to be her descent into the abyss: she treats her friends like little expendable minions, she turns her back on Finn’s memory, and then she ends the episode by dramatically walking into a dark room in slow motion to creepy chamber music. I mean this is the hero’s fall guys!! That’s what it always was!!!

If only they’d handled Bellamy’s hero’s fall in 3A, and Clarke’s rise again in 3B, as well.

That ending is a straight up horror movie thanks that’s why this is my favorite season.

[aporeticelenchus]

Gilbert and Sullivan three-sentence plot summaries

I’ve been promising @oceannocturne a brief Gilbert and Sullivan guide for a while, but it turns out that the “brief” part is tricky. I wanted to make a post with short summaries – no more that three sentences each – and a few song recs for each opera, but that quickly grew way too long for one post. So, here’s a post that’s just three sentence summaries for all the extant operas, for anyone who wants a quick idea of what’s going on in each of them. I’ll try to do a series of follow-ups with some specific songs linked and put in context.

The Sorcerer (aka The Love Potion AU) Alexis is marrying his beloved Aline, and he only wishes everyone else could be as happy and as in love as he. In fact, he wishes it so much that he hires the sorcerer John W. Wells to drug the entire town with a love potion! Chaos, predictably, ensues.

HMS Pinafore (aka Class Hierarchy and Boats) Captain Corcoran is the well-bred and well-mannered captain of the Pinafore, and he’s delighted when Lord Admiral Sir Joseph offers to marry his daughter Josephine and elevate the family station. But Josephine loves a member of her father’s crew, the simple sailor Ralph. Fortunately, love can level all rank (but not that much), and a British tar is any man’s equal – or so Sir Joseph always says!

The Pirates of Penzance (aka Look You All Probably Know This One Already) Frederic is the slave of duty, and in duty’s name he has served out an apprenticeship with a band of pirates, despite passionately longing to lead an honest life. When his term is up, he seeks out new love and plots to destroy his old piratical associates (in the name of duty). But the pirates still have a claim on Frederic, and he’s torn between his duty as pirate apprentice and his loyalty to his fiancée Mabel and her family.

Patience (aka ~*~Aesthetic~*~) The ladies of town all love the tragical aesthetic poet Bunthorne, who has in turn sworn his love to the milkmaid Patience, the only maiden in town who dislikes him. When Patience’s childhood friend (also turned poet) Archibald returns and confesses his love for her, Patience falls in love for the first time – but as she’s been told that love is completely selfless, she believes that she must love the odious Bunthorne rather than the too-wonderful Archibald. Meanwhile, a regiment of dragoons, who were all betrothed to the local ladies a year ago, are stationed in town and can’t figure out why the ladies are chasing a pair of poets instead of them.

Iolanthe (aka Parliament Fairies) The Arcadian shepherd Strephon has a secret – he’s half-fairy (from the waist up), and his mother Iolanthe was banished from the fairy court for daring to marry a human. Strephon loves Phyllis, but her guardian the Lord Chancellor is determined that she marry a peer (and secretly wishes to marry her himself!). A misunderstanding between Strephon and Phyllis leads to clash between the fairy court and the House of Peers, and the angry fairies makes Strephon a member of parliament and head of both parties, able to pass whatever legislation he chooses!

Princess Ida (aka #misandry) Twenty years ago, the infants Princess Ida and Prince Hilarion were betrothed, and Hilarion’s father Hildebrand is threatening war if Hilarion’s bride doesn’t appear. But when Ida’s father Gama arrives, he brings word that Ida has foresworn the company of men and converted Castle Adamant into a women’s college where no man is allowed. Hildebrand plans to march on Ida’s castle college with an army, but Hilarion hopes to infiltrate Castle Adamant himself and win Ida’s love first.

The Mikado (aka William S. Gilbert Discovers That Japan Is a Country That Exists) Runaway prince Nanki-Poo disguises himself as a wandering minstrel to escape an unwanted fiancée and search for his true beloved, Yum-Yum, only to find that she’s engaged to marry the village executioner Ko-Ko. Ko-Ko’s never performed an actual execution, and he’s been given notice that he’d better find a victim soon – and Nanki-Poo’s considering volunteering if it means he can marry Yum-Yum before he dies. And that’s all before his father, the Mikado, shows up in town with his “daughter-in-law-elect” in tow!

Ruddigore (aka SpooooOOOOOoooooky) The Baronet of Ruddigore suffers a terrible witch’s curse; the bearer of the title must commit a crime every day or else die in horrible agony. Lord Ruthven Murgatroyd should have inherited the title, but he faked his own death and lives as simple Robin, a timid and conscientious young man who (timidly) loves the beautiful Rose Maybud. But when Robin’s foster brother Richard becomes his rival for Rose, Robin’s true identity is revealed and he must live as the Bad Baronet he was born to be – or die a terrible death!

Yeomen of the Guard (aka The One That’s Almost a Grand Opera) Lord Fairfax, consigned to the Tower of London thanks to scheming relatives after his fortune, contrives to marry a random woman in the hour before his execution so that his wealth will pass to her instead. Poor Elise Maynard, fiancée of the wandering jester Jack Point, accepts the offe and marries Fairfax sight unseen, with a blindfold on. But Phoebe, who loves Fairfax, schemes with her father to free Fairfax and disguise him as her brother and a yeoman of the guard, leaving Elise torn between her old fiancé, her unknown husband, and the handsome new yeoman who’s started courting her…

The Gondoliers (aka Problems With Monarchy) Marco and Giuseppe are brothers and gondoliers, who have just chosen two beautiful ladies to marry. Right after their weddings, they’re informed that one of them (though no one knows which) is in fact the lost heir to the Kingdom of Barateria – and unbeknownst to them, that one was married at birth to Casilda, daughter of the Duke of Plaza Toro. The two agree to rule Barateria together until they can discover which of them is the true king, and as lifelong republicans they struggle to reconcile their ideals and their positions as monarchs.

Utopia, Limited (aka Corporations Are People) King Paramount of the island nation of Utopia is a king of autocratic power and absolute rule – aside from the minor fact that his two Wise Men have the authority to blow him up with a keg of dynamite if he steps a toe out of line. Paramount has decided to reform the entire nation of Utopia to be exactly like England, the country he admires most, and when his daughter Zara returns from her studies in England she brings back several Englishmen known as the Flowers of Progress. The Flowers devise a set of schemes to make Utopia more English than England itself, including turning the entire island and everyone one of its inhabitants into limited liability corporations!

The Grand Duke (aka A Not Very Good Revolution) The actor Ludwig is, along with his entire theatrical company, engaged in a revolutionary plot to assassinate the penny-pinching, hypochondriacal Grand Duke Rudolph and put their manager in his place. When Ludwig misinterprets their secret sign and spills the whole plot to the Grand duke’s detective, he pretends to inform on his fellow conspirators and convinces Rudolph to become legally dead for a day while Ludwig takes his place. But once Ludwig is in power, he changes the law to keep Rudolph “dead” and himself in charge forever, and has to deal with the ensuing tangle of obligations and commitments.

Bonus: Trial By Jury (aka The Short One) Edwin is being sued by his ex-fiancée Angelina for breach of promise of marriage after he threw her over for another woman. A completely impartial jury and wise and learned judge solve the ensuing legal tangle. This one is too short to even merit three sentences!

[jasper-rolls]

i talked about this a bit on twitter but i wanna elucidate on it here so here’s another fucking post about the fucking dream daddy shit because i cant stop myself from being annoyed by the back and forth and misrepresentation and vague posts trying to act like they’re just talking in general when its very obviously about this

strap in cause this is gonna be a long one

there are three points i want to make

1) criticism of media is important and needed, particularly in the realm of discussing representation and creator intent, since its overall purpose is to further discussion and foster overall improvement in future. criticism of a work isn’t always an attack on the people who like it

i mean, we’ve all been there. it sucks to read when someone’s talking down something you like a lot, especially if its something that’s very meaningful to you. it happens to me too - i can’t count the number of times i’ve read an article or essay ripping apart something i love and found it very difficult to disengage my personal feelings from it.

but unless the person making the criticism is specifically going out of their way to say “and all the people who LIKE this thing are fucking gibbering idiots who wouldn’t know good quality if it punched them in the face”, then the criticism isn’t an attack on you personally, and you have to find the place to disengage that emotional attachment and at least tolerate the criticism of the work. you may accept and agree with it or not, but understand that the critic is (probably) not directly attacking you

and raising potential problems on the representation side of the work is important, because it highlights potential problems for people interested in it that they might not have been aware of before, like creator’s personal views influencing development of the work, or unfortunate implications of plot beats within the work

there’s definitely legitimate cause for concern in game grumps involvement with dream daddy. in my personal experience, the grumps aren’t particularly forward thinking in a lot of respects - arin and danny are quick to lapse into bottom of the barrel racist accent humor (particularly with asian characters), or “hey, isn’t being gay kind of weird” straight guy nonsense. the understanding they’ve showcased of lgbt concepts and issues leaves a lot to be desired (last i remember, arin still considered “cisgender” to be a slur despite being told what it actually means)

and every time this is brought up, i see fans saying “oh but they’re better now, they’ve learned!” and i have to say, i still watch them fairly regularly and...they really haven’t! the “progress” is minimal at best, its like watching someone push a boulder up a hill. they haven’t really changed all that much in the last few years to be frank. so the concern with them being involved with, and putting their name on, a game where the focus is on mlm (and has transgender characters) has definite grounding, given how they’ve acted before.

and the cult ending naturally has unfortunate implications - the idea that every character in the game is being tricked into being forever single, their misery being used to fuel some sort of demon...i mean, given how gay people have been treated throughout history and in media, at the very least it’s pretty regressive. you can’t fault someone for reading the transcript and feeling a little sick

the raising and highlighting of these things isn’t a personal attack. it’s overall, to help people make an informed decision, and be aware of the things that aren’t so great - that might be a dealbreaker, on a personal level. criticism is valuable, and useful, and we should recognize it as such

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

2) on the opposite hand, EVERYTHING we read, watch, or play is guaranteed to have a problematic element of some sort, and nothing you ever enjoy is perfect. expecting something to conform to a 100% ideologically pure standard is unreasonable and ultimately a fool’s game

my personal favourite game of all time, ever, is killer7. it’s the game that bought suda51 to prominence in the west. it’s a weird blend of first-person shooter, rail shooter, and rpg. the story is outright bizarre, with disorienting visuals and surreal events like a lucha wrestler headbutting a bullet out of midair, a ghostly man wrapped in bdsm gear popping up to give you advice, and giggling zombies that explode on contact

its also got quite a share of shitty moments - a rape scene, the female characters leave a lot to be desired, its got a frankly weird interpretation of a lot of psychological disorders, and a good chunk of the game is dedicated to character development of a pedophile

suffice to say it probably wouldn’t be a big hit with a lot of people here. but does this stuff mean its completely reprehensible, and not worth spending any time with? i did just tell you it’s my favourite game so you can probably guess how i’m going to respond to that rhetorical question. this post is long enough without me spending several more paragraphs explaining to you why i think killer7 is worth giving a shot, so i’m going to skip to the point that this example is illustrating - the things we love, our favourite things, are probably just as, or maybe even more problematic than the things we don’t.

i’m not going to cite any further examples since i don’t know what you, the reader, personally enjoys or loves, but like...i guarantee you, its probably done something pretty shitty with its running time. i’m fairly confident i’ve never read or enjoyed something that didn’t at some point play into some shitty trope about lgbt people, or people of colour, or women - and if didn’t somehow, chances are it’s because it never showed them in the first place, because its focus is on straight, white, cis men, which is, naturally a problem of its own

if you’re willing to shrug off shitty opinions of creators of things you love, or bad tropes and plot elements in things you love, then why is it so different for the things you dislike? to write off dream daddy entirely, because of the involvement of game grumps, and the existence of one bad ending with shitty implications, and ignoring its more positive elements while praising the things you love that have more than likely done shitty stuff too is...frankly ridiculous

it perhaps may not seem like much to you, but dream daddy getting the kind of coverage and attention it has is...kind of a big deal as far as i’m concerned! games with narrative tend to be pretty hostile towards gay men*, so for a game that presents an overall sincere and positive representation of gay men to see this much attention and get to no. 1 seller on steam a significant step forward, i think. it’s not revolutionary, but personally, as a gay man, it means a lot to me, and i know a few other gay men who would feel the same, and that surely counts for something

and as far as killer7 goes, well...waypoint explains it better than i could, but i would just like to say: that pedophile character i mentioned? that part of the game ends with you beating him in a duel so hard, he falls over and gets eviscerated by a machine designed to cut out organs. so it’s not all bad.

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

3) (this is the big one) this site has a big fucking problem with virtue signalling 

perhaps its bad of me to assume something of people, but i’m going to go out on a limb and say at least one person immediately closed the tab the moment they read that line, and i wouldn’t blame them, because the problem with saying something like “virtue signalling” is that the alt-right and gamergaters have tried their absolute hardest to make that phrase essentially mean nothing by throwing it at anyone who shares a dissenting opinion of any kind. but despite their efforts, virtue signalling is a phrase that does actually have a meaning, and its the meaning i’m using here

i’m going to take a quick excerpt from hbomberguy’s video on the subject (it’s worth watching, it’s only 10 minutes long and pretty funny)  - “The term was originally coined[...]to decry people who say, ‘I don’t like this thing very much’, in order to feel good about themselves, and then just, vote Labour every few years or whatever and take no stake in actually making things better.”

tumblr (or at least, the part of tumblr i engage with) does this, a LOT. it’s in the smug, one line “uhhhh, yikes, lmao 💅” rebuttals to arguments against the thesis of a given post. it’s in the strawman cartoons and chat posts that cast opponents of the OP as self-contradicting fools. it’s in the “so jot that down” responses, the “i’m side-eyeing everyone who isn’t reblogging this”, etc. etc. everyone has done this. you have probably engaged with this. i definitely have - at least one of my popular posts, if not more is, basically me, doing this thing! to be fair i had no intention those posts being popular, but then one never does, do they?

in the case of dream daddy, it’s “me: y’all:” image edits snarkily demonstrating how they’re SWERVING “that dad dating shit”, chat posts casting defenders points as “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST NEVER CRITICIZE ANYTHING EVER”, posts smugly announcing they’re going to pirate the game just to take money from arin hanson, as if that’s how game development works, and i think it’s what’s led to a huge amount of misrepresentation about this game in particular

i’ve seen people acting like the game grumps are like, directing and writing the game, when, as far as i’m aware, all they did was provide funding and voice acting. and the big thing that really got my goat, was someone describing the cult ending, and listing the implications i’ve already gone over myself, and then saying that this was the game’s true ending

this...literally could not be further from the truth. for starters, no-one has actually gotten this ending from playing through the game naturally. the reason? because you CAN’T. it was found through data-mining - it isn’t accessible through regular play. it’s either content that was cut from the game late in development, or, as the theory goes, intended to be a non-canonical or fake ending added in as halloween DLC come october (given the tone of the whole thing it sounds reasonable to me) which has, unfortunately, now been ruined due to this whole debacle

to do this kind of thing, to describe this as “the true ending” borders on being an out and out lie for the purpose of making dream daddy look way, way worse than it actually is. there’s no justice here, there’s no attempt to inform accurately. it’s “hey, check out how shitty this thing is! i’m good for disliking it, aren’t i? ignore the context, or the fact that i’m literally lying about what this is”

look, okay, i’m getting a little vitriolic - people can make mistakes, misunderstand things, it happens. everyone does it. me too. but this posing, this “look how good and cool i am, for not liking this thing”, it helps nothing at best and actively harms at worse. misrepresenting positions, context, and events for the purpose of satisfying the ego of whoever is making the statement - it helps no-one, except that person, in the most minor and meaningless of ways

i want to be clear - this final bit is just as much a memo for myself as it is for everyone reading this

be critical. don’t take things at face value. read into issues, understand context. get as close to the source of the issue at hand as you can, and determine the truth from there. resist the urge to be smug, detached, and dismiss those who disagree with your position - resist the urge to laugh at them, they may just not know. try and engage them in honest debate. if they resist that, if they don’t want to meet you on an equal footing you are within your rights to disengage.

be strong. support the things you love, and remember where the line is

we can all be better

*i’m not saying that other groups aren’t treated with hostility in games and gaming - trans women certainly get it really, really bad. just personally saying, in my experience as a gay man, the gaming community, and subsequently games with a focus on narrative themselves, have a sort of...special hatred of mlm. not necessarily worse, just...uniquely hostile

[stilljumpingback]

(via Black Sails Episode 305 - XXIII)

FRAGMENTED THOUGHTS

Our last hallucination.    Anyone have thoughts on why this time, Flint’s lips don’t move but we hear his voice?

Flint is still preoccupied with death, but Miranda attempts to dissuade him with two tactics:  1) he is close to achieving something great, and 2) he is not alone.

Miranda:  James, you resented me because we were so close, and I threw it all away.  If you join me now, what if I resented you for the same reason? James:  What would I be throwing away? Miranda:  You can’t see it yet, can you?  You are not alone.

It is so rewarding to hear Mr. Scott say, “Give us the room.”  Finally the man is given the deference that his power has always deserved.  SUPER kudos to Flint for recognizing that Mr. Scott is even more impressive than he’d realized, and he’d already given Mr. Scott a lot of praise.

“I wonder if ever a war so loudly anticipated ended so quietly” is such a beautiful line.

Despite saying he was all out of lies in the last episode, Flint steals a tiny knife and reveals his backup plan should his conversation with the Queen go badly – he’ll hold her hostage so that his crew can escape, despite knowing he cannot survive that scenario.  When Silver points out that the plan is suicidal, Flint’s look is all, “I know, that’s why I chose it.”

Eleanor is back in Nassau!!  And I adore her forcing Hornigold to report to her.

“I suppose I should have seen this, that somehow your grip on this place would be too strong to be denied by a king, his laws, or even your death.”

When told the governor’s mansion is “home to a smuggler, den to opium fiends, salon to a pirate king,” Woodes Rogers jokes, “Suppose I’ll fit right in.”  #jokes, or is Rogers hinting at something darker?

Max and Eleanor reunite, and I am so thrilled to be watching a show in which two powerful women arguing about their influence and legitimacy!  I love even more that their posturing fades away as they question how deeply they’ve betrayed each other and the answer turns out to be NOT AT ALL.  Forever crying!!

Eleanor appeals to Max’s desire for safety, but when she doesn’t bite, Eleanor says, “He can make life very difficult for you.”  Hmmm, civilization doesn’t seem so healthy if it only exists thanks to threats of punishment.  Not to mention that Rogers knows Max is important enough that he needs her blessing of the governing council, but she cannot be a part of it (because she’s a woman/not white).  Not making a great case for the preferability of English rule!

But Max knows her worth, even if no one else does.  I LOVE HER.

“I own title to more of the street than you ever did.  I earn as much legitimate income as you ever did.  I have no enemies and strong friends.  I am the one they all come to here to make peace between them when no one else can.”

Mr. and Mrs. Scott are so cute!!  “Do you trust me to make this decision?”  “Of course I do.”  He knows she’s the one with all the power, and I’m forever dying from strong men admiring stronger women.

Billy’s “uh DUH” expression when Silver points out that he’s awfully eager to be rid of Flint, lol.  These two constantly circling Flint and missing each other in the process is super fascinating.  I would love someone else to parse their relationships with the captain and each other throughout the entirety of the series.

Max bribes Woodes Rogers with her share of the Urca gold, hidden from Spain because of its new form as black pearls etc.  Only it turns out Mrs. Hudson is a spy for Spain and they know about the double dealing!!  (How great is it that this show refuses to let women be anything other than complex and amazing??)

Eleanor didn’t tell Woodes Rogers about her relationship with Max, huh?  Sex with a pirate is one thing, but sex with another woman?  Civilization couldn’t stomach that.

Silver doesn’t want Flint to die!!  I realize that this is an incredibly low bar to clear, but, um.  It’s so sweet??

“I understand the allure of ensuring that no one will ever think you the villain you fear you are.  What a waste, it seems to me, knowing it doesn’t have to be this way, knowing the man who talked me into giving a shit about this crew, why, he could talk those people out there into anything.  If he wanted to.”

I know that Silver is calling back to his 205 realization that Flint doesn’t want to be a villain, but I think he also now understands this from his own experience.  Based on how ashamed he was to tell Flint of his betrayal re: the Urca gold, I think he’s afraid he’d be a villain to the crew if they found out.  Extra sad, knowing his eventual role in Treasure Island.

Silver knows Flint, and this is EXACTLY what he needs to hear to leave the knife (Plan B) behind and trust fully in his ability to sell a dream to someone by giving SUCH A GOOD SPEECH.

“Let us assume that I can offer you something better.  You have hidden in this place for a lifetime, hidden from the harsh realities that lie beyond this veil that you have constructed here, but the moment that that shot entered his belly, that veil began to unravel.  Sooner or later, you are going to have to confront these realities, chief among them being that England takes whatever, whenever, however it wants:  lives, loves, labor, spirits, homes.  It has taken them from me. I imagine that it has taken it from you.  And when that veil drops altogether, they will come for more.”

Revolutionary Flint is SUCH A GOOD FLINT.

This is just, FULL FLINT.  A culmination of his pursuit of freedom from oppression (now extended to more people), his rage (now turned into righteous fervor), and his military prowess (now turned against an empire).  He wants to bring it all down, and I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.

Woodes Rogers and Eleanor kiss for half a second before being interrupted.  Even though Rogers realizes he can’t accept Max’s bribe, problems are complicated because Spain knows there’s another portion missing!

Cut to:  Jack, Anne, and an enormous treasure chest.  Jack goes back to Nassau because he won’t give up his name.  He knows it’s dumb, but he cares.  She knows it’s dumb, but she loves him.  He kisses her on the hat, and it’s so cute, but SERIOUSLY.  People should listen to Anne!!  “We did it.  We beat the fucking game.  Walk another half mile, we get in that boat, and we win.”

The Walrus crew is let out of their cages, and we see Flint putting on his captain’s coat because symbolism is delicious.

Silver:  I’m going to admit something to you.  Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that was actually going to work. Flint:  Me neither.  Thank you…for opening that door.

They are SO CUTE, and it’s clear that Miranda’s words about James not being alone refer to Silver, but Flint is all, “Now we go find Charles Vane,” because that is his City Sacking Buddy.

[hexiewrites]

we will never be satisfied

pairing: narcissa black / lily evans setting: georgian era / ~1790s. a winter’s ball. word count: 1837 written for: the femslash february trope bingo and my free space, which I have decided is a “regency era” au, except it’s more like georgian era (#historymajorproblems) so I dunno anymore whatever. It’s also a hamilton au - is that a thing yet? and hp femslash february in general! a/n: yes okay things I am aware of: I shamelessly ripped a bunch of dialogue and other things from Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton’s “Satisfied” (preemptive warning, this ends just about how you expect it’s going to). I split both Eliza and Hamilton into two people, basically. (a formal apology to Peggy, who unfortunately here is portrayed by Bellatrix Lestrange neé Black). I also completely and utterly without shame stole, butchered, and modernized the brilliant Mary Wollstonecraft’s work (and, a bit of herself as well) A Vindication on the Rights of Men and its sequel A Vindication on the Rights of Women. I fucked with timeline and historical accuracy, and more importantly I made some characters pretty damn gay. welcome to hell, babes. as always, a big thanks to my beta/inspiration @nymphadoraholtzmann! this was her idea and she has been very patiently waiting for me to write it for like… probably at least a month so. you can also see the beautiful graphic she made for this concept right here!

(my bingo card) (my other writing)

Narcissa Black was bored. It didn't usually happen, especially not at such a lovely ball. Soldier's red coats brightened the ballroom and their brass buttons glimmered in the flickering candlelight. Narcissa brushed a hand down over the green and silver brocade of her dress and sighed, rather despondently. Her eyes flickered the room and spotted her oldest sister Bella dancing with her husband, Rodolphus, and her middle sister Andromeda giggling next to a soldier.

Once again, she was reminder of her father's stern words, before the ball. There would be no grinning soldiers or pretty peasants in her future, no following her heart or joining the swiftly growing revolution. No matter that she was educated, intelligent, and ambitious. There would only be a marriage to a wealthy man, a continuation of his family line, and the reminder - again and again and again - that she was supposed to be a boy and since she hadn't managed that, the least she could do was uphold her family’s honour by marrying a Lord.

Scanning her eyes across the room again, she couldn't help but notice a redhead woman who happened to be walking in her direction. The woman's dark auburn hair probably should have clashed with her red dress, but instead the two seemed to compliment each other, offsetting the woman's pale creamy skin. Narcissa forced herself to look away, glancing back at the ball.

"You strike me as a woman who’s never been satisfied," said a voice from her left. It was musical and magical and Narcissa had to swallow at the way it sent tingles down her spine. She turned and there was the redhead, more beautiful up close with large intelligent green eyes that Narcissa knew would be burned into her brain forever. Narcissa had never seen anything like them and it took her a moment to remember herself, her place.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she managed, in her best aristocrat voice. "You forget yourself."

The woman smirked, stepped closer. She radiated a confidence that was striking and terrifying, bold and courageous and something about it burned so brightly it nearly hurt.

"You're like me," the woman continued, lifting a hand to brush a strand of long red hair away from her face.

"Oh?" Narcissa asked, lost in green eyes and soft words and some underlying promise of more.

"I've never been satisfied." The woman continued, a grin tugging at her lips.

Narcissa couldn't help herself. She tipped her head back and laughed, her own lips quirking up in a matching smile, before she leaned in a little closer. "Is that right?"

The beautiful green eyes darkened just a bit, and the grin tugging at the woman’s pink lips shifted into something that should have been terrifying. “I will never be satisfied.” Something about the way she said it, the way her voice dipped lower and that look in her eyes tugged at something low in Narcissa’s abdomen and she shifted her legs slightly and fought the urge to bite her lips.

Deciding she couldn’t go another minute without learning the woman’s name, she extended her hand. “My name is Narcissa Black.”

A pale hand extended and caught hers, and Narcissa noticed almost immediately that the woman’s skin wasn’t quite as soft as hers. The woman lifted Narcissa’s hand and brushed her lips over the skin carefully, then looked up and smiled again. “Lily Evans.” She introduced herself, and Narcissa ran back through her mind of the hundreds of other wealthy families she knew. Clearly not Royalty, or nobility – Narcissa had had the family tree of every other family deemed acceptable burned into her brain since she was old enough to listen.

“Where’s your family from?” She asked, almost disappointed when Lily dropped her hand. The woman paused at the question, flicked her eyes to the side, and something in Narcissa’s stomach crashed.

“Unimportant,” Lily hedged, waving a hand as if dismissing it quickly. “There’s a million things I haven’t done.”

Narcissa swallowed, closed her eyes quickly. When she reopened them, Lily was still standing there, looking at her, tracing her eyes over Narcissa’s face and lips and Narcissa knew she had to drop this, to turn and run right now before she got stuck but she couldn’t seem to.

Instead, she kept her eyes on Lily, tried to determine why the woman was there. “Are you one of the soldier’s wives?” She asked, tipping her nose up in slight disdain, unable to help herself.

It was Lily’s turn to laugh, and Narcissa couldn’t help that her eyes were drawn down to watch as the woman’s chest bubbled up and nearly spilled over her corset as she did so. Narcissa’s mouth went dry and she swallowed, and forced herself to look up.

“Goodness no.” Lily shook her head now, and then she shrugged simply. “I’m an author.”

Narcissa raised a delicate brow. “And what, pray tell, do you write?” She had never met an author before, she didn’t think. But she was interested to know if Lily wrote more about cooking or housekeeping – not that she’d ever personally had to do either.

“My current piece is titled A Vindication on the Rights of Women.” Lily stated, something akin to a twinkle in her eye.

“Hmm. And what, exactly, are the rights of women, in your opinion?” Narcissa asked, trying to figure out what exactly a text with such a long name would be about.

Lily smirked and a self-satisfied air settled around her. “Nothing too radical,” she promised, though the lilting tone in her voice seemed to suggest otherwise. “In my previous work, I wrote against the aristocracy – instead, I believe that the people should have control over the state. I believe that the arrangement of our society, in which some individuals benefit by climbing over the backs of others, is horrendous.”

Narcissa choked. She was standing here speaking to a revolutionary. What on earth would her father say, to know that she was speaking to someone who, in all likelihood, supported the war that was going on! That supported this nonsense of revolution, of killing the monarchs. Who wanted to destroy the very lifestyle her ancestors had worked so hard for. Unfortunately, Lily’s emerald eyes were drawing her in and she couldn’t help but ask another question. “But what does all of that have to do with women? We’re not the ones fighting.”

Lily seemed to almost take this as a challenge and she rested a small hand on Narcissa’s arm, and Narcissa’s skin nearly burned under her touch. “I believe that, if a woman were to wish to, she should be able to be involved in whatever she so wishes. We, as women, are essential to our nation. We are more than just… just property to be sold to the highest bidder.” Narcissa was already thinking of her older sister’s engagement, a flurry of paperwork and a lack of meetings. Of her sister, in line next with similar arrangements already being set, and herself – the discussions of Lucius Malfoy that filtered up the stairs and into her bedroom. Lily was still speaking. “As long as we, as women, think rationally – there is so much more that we could all achieve.”

Lily had clearly gotten worked up speaking, her hand had tightened around Narcissa’s arm and her cheeks and chest were starting to flush. Narcissa wanted to catch the woman’s hand and run, take her away from this awful party full of people who would destroy her ideas, who would crush her enthusiasm and try to teach her her proper place. She had the brief idea that perhaps they could run, that she could spend the rest of her life watching the redhead’s skin flush and drawing laughter from her lips.

And then reality caught up to her, crashed into her like a pile of bricks and she remembered who she was. She was Narcissa Black. The third daughter and third disappointment for her family. To make up for her unfortunate gender, her primary goal in life was a good marriage to a rich man – not to spend her days with a woman who was likely penniless. None of this could ever work and she tore her eyes away from the green ones staring back at her and then scanned them across the room.

When they landed, what she had to do suddenly became clear to her and she turned back to Lily to scan her eyes over her beautiful face one last time. “Come with me.” She insisted, and slid her hand down into Lily’s, relishing in the feeling of small fingers and slightly rough skin.

“Where are you taking me?” Lily asked, laughter clear in her voice as Narcissa led her across the dance floor.

Narcissa paused, looked back at her destination. “I’m about to change your life.” She insisted.

“By all means.” Lily replied, and they crossed the last few steps of the dance floor in silence.    

When they arrived, she flashed a smile to the men that now stood in front of them

"My cousin Sirius Black," she introduced, gesturing to a man in a soldier's uniform and long shaggy hair. "And his friend, James Potter." She didn’t know James well, but she did know Sirius and she knew that despite his redcoat, he believed in the revolution and their actions. That he had joined the war effort here in hopes that he could pull it apart brick by brick. His parents were disgraced, and he looked more pleased than she had ever seen him. She only assumed that James was the same.

James scanned his eyes across Lily's form and Narcissa held the sneer back from her face. He looked like a lovesick puppy. He looked helpless. She wanted to send him away, to catch Lily in her arms and do… something. Something that she was sure she was not supposed to want to do with anyone other than her husband – let alone another woman. Especially one with such dangerous ideas.

"Lily Evans," the redhead said, extending a hand and offering a small smile. "Pleasure to meet you."

James grinned and caught the hand, pressing his lips to Lily's smooth skin. Lily flushed and then flicked her eyes back to Narcissa, who was still looking steadily at James. She had known it would work – not that she was sure why, but she had known it all the same.

"James Potter. The pleasure is all mine." He assured her, stepping closer. Narcissa closed her hand into a fist, dug her nails into her palms, inhaled.

"Thank you for your service." Lily said, polite interest in her voice, nothing like the confident undertone from when she's spoken to Narcissa.

"If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it." James purred, and Sirius snickered beside him.

Lily giggled, and Narcissa's heart shattered.

"I'll leave you to it." Narcissa nearly whispered, and she never looked back.

[elsbethvanparidon-blog]

His photos may prove controversial to some, but this sticky ‘n stingy problem lies not with MATE, visual artist, per/in se. The photos and prints are an observant reflection of this snapper’s daily reality; an overall Panglossian and promising reality which at times is sadly affected by a political decision touching upon people’s social environments, e.g. homosexuality being banned from television and (subsequently) microblogging platforms. One visible question remains… How will today’s human footprint affect tomorrow’s humanity? 

Print art by MATE

Print Art: Humble Beginnings

As MATE produces both pictures and print art, we must take one step back to take three steps forward. And gain some sprightly insight in the process. Ergo, for a little more intel on that Chinese print panache… We turn to New York City’s revered MET Museum and cite:

“According to current scholarship, printing on paper was invented in China about 700 A.D., making China the country with the longest history of printing in the world. The capacity for multiple duplications and the affordable price of the printed image have long made it an effective medium for mass communication in various cultural contexts.

A vehicle for disseminating the Buddhist faith and shaping its evolving canon in China, pictorial prints assumed a major role in folk rituals and festivals as their subject matter expanded to include auspicious or protective imagery. Printing grew into a significant art form in the early seventeenth century, when an affluent urban populace became avid consumers of culturally sophisticated commodities, including elegant prints. Woodblock-printed images have remained a vibrant medium for articulating nationalistic sentiments and sociopolitical commentary through post-dynastic China’s periods of revolution and reform. They also reflect the intelligentsia’s ambivalence toward Western-dominated modernization in art and society. The twentieth century witnessed the rise of Shanghai as a production center, where a vibrant poster industry developed.

The term ‘popular print’ refers to mass-produced single-sheet color prints on auspicious or protective subjects that range from seasonal celebrations to figures from folk religion and popular literature. Due to their extraordinary popularity, prints made for the New Year’s Festival constitute a special category: nianhua (New Year’s pictures). Most common are images of door guardians thought to ward off evil spirits and bring good fortune to the family in the coming year.”

Live it. Learn it. Love it.

During the notoriously dark days of the Cultural Revolution (1967–1976) bereft of all creative existence, poster-sized prints featuring heroic laborers set against that “revolutionary” red backdrop predominated the “art” scene of the decade. 

Print: The Golden Generation. Image courtesy of MATE, fine art

Print Art: Reaping Revolutionary Benefits

After Mao Zedong had called into being the People’s Republic (of China) on 21 September 1949, all artistic activity across the Mainland was institutionalized and a number of major art academies — particularly those based in Beijing, Hangzhou, and Chongqing — witnessed the establishment of “print departments”. The quest for a singular unified national visual style in the politically more “liberal” (for lack of a better word) years of the early 1950s, and after the break with the Soviet Union in the early 1960s, brought about a revival of traditional multi-colori woodcuts created with water-soluble ink. The high-quality 1952 reprints of famous 17th Century decorated stationery literally displayed Beijing’s backing and promotion of traditional arts and crafts. Product placement at its finest.

During the notoriously dark days of the Cultural Revolution (1967–1976) bereft of all creative existence, poster-sized prints featuring heroic laborers set against that “revolutionary” red backdrop predominated the “art” scene of the decade. Communist symbolism prevailed and ruled the pictorial roost. The posters’ distinct Socialist Realist style (aka the officially sanctioned style of art that dominated Soviet painting for 50 years from the early 1930s) and explicit propagandist message reflected the over-heated political atmosphere of the period.

Then, in December of 1979, Deng Xiaoping (1904–1997) switched the lights back on and rang in a new era of modernization and economic reform. Artists cautiously started to explore new techniques, styles and themes as China reopened itself to the global community in the 1980s and 1990s. The arts entered a renewed period of pluralistic development.

And on that note, we enter the 21st Century. With fine visual art by MATE.

“I don’t think people need to deliberately integrate into any type of environment; their environment is endless. I like to think my photographic omnibus reflects an emotional documentary and I hope people will resonate these emotions. I want to save these feelings before they die and are lost forever.” MATE, fine artist

Print: Army of Lovers — or Qin. Image courtesy of MATE, fine art

Print Art: The MATE Lookbook

In three, two, one. Go!

Temper: BnW is heavily featured across your body of work. Where do you find yourself on the “Color” vs “Black and White” spectrum?

MATE: Contrary to popular belief, black and white are not opposites. Black and white photos are in fact as colorful as actual color photos. When I edit black and white shots, I also need to adjust the contrast of the other colors involved — red, yellow, green and blue. I think black and white simply stand for another translation of color.

Opting for black and white instead of color brings about a framed limitation, if you will. I particularly like working with this restriction given it forces one to pay more attention to shape and structure; in other words, for me, photography is all about limitation. When I gaze out at the world through the camera, I can feel a unique sense of complete calm descending upon me. I can suddenly see only a small-scale fragment of my usual vision or outlook, which in turn helps me concentrate and provides me with sharper focus.

Temper: When you think of artists such as Nut Brother (take a look at the man’s latest “contaminated water” project right here), artist/curator/critic Liang Kegang or political cartoonist Badiucao…  Do you take a political stance with your art?

MATE: As far as I am concerned, I take no political stance and I have no political or socio-economic motivation or agenda. I am only interested in human behavior. My purest motivation in photography and print art is to let people accept their humanity. If I don’t take pictures for three consecutive days, the photos will fill — cloud, even — my mind, literally causing me a headache. I do hold some personal opinions on politics, but I don’t judge; I don’t do “good” or “bad”. I just choose to reflect my feelings in the photos — as the world turns.

Whether or not my work can “make things better”, I hope that under any given circumstance it can force someone to rethink, re-interpret their opinions or reactions to life’s events and, if necessary, find a better way to cope with whatever they may have on their plate(s).

“In 400 years of Peking Opera, it has always been the men who portray and act out the culture of women. As one traces tradition, one will see how the degrees of tolerance and freedom fluctuate over time.” MATE, fine artist

Making a splash. Image courtesy of MATE, fine art

Print Art: Future Musings And Muses

Temper: Does art reflect what’s happening in China on a socio-economic level? If so, what do you think the (near) future of China’s visual arts will bring?

MATE: The inspiration for my creations comes from the people and things I have encountered in my day to day life. I am also very interested in history.

My photos may prove controversial to some, but this problem lies not with me per se. The photos are a reflection of my daily reality; an overall promising reality which at times is sadly affected by a political decision touching upon people’s social environments, e.g. homosexuality being banned from television and (subsequently) microblogging platforms.

I have, for example, done some work starring Peking Opera to show people’s misuse of the word “tradition”.  Glancing back at 400 years of Beijing Opera, it has always been the men who portray and act out the culture of women. As one traces tradition, one will see how the degrees of tolerance and freedom fluctuate over time.

My photos reflect this and at times this kind of concentrated shooting is like telling other people what dreams I will have tonight. The people I shoot generally are younger (twenty-something) girls, i.e. the future mothers of China. They are brave women. For me, their status quo today is the state of tomorrow’s China.

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Image courtesy of MATE, fine art

Image courtesy of MATE, fine art

  The steps we all take today, will shape the definition of “humanity” tomorrow. “For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.” Nelson Mandela.

                                                                        All images come courtesy of MATE, fine art studio

  Copyright@Temper Magazine, 2018. All rights reserved

Deng Xiaoping in 1979 announces a chapter of modernization and artists cautiously start to explore new styles as China reopens itself to the world. A new era filled with pluralistic progress dawns. Fast forward to 2018: MATE fine art. His photos may prove controversial to some, but this sticky 'n stingy problem lies not with…

[kelsusit]

Apple Wants To Beat HP Z Workstation Styles

HP Workstation Xw4550 Specs

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Communism

So I think the reading on the three parts of Marxism was a bit of an easier read than pretty much anything actually written by Marx. In the first part of Marxism the author writes about Marxism being materialism. Which I think I can see that. Marx mostly talks about capital a lot of the time and how everything is capital and ownership of that capital. He also talks a lot a bout labor, but often about how that labor relates to capital and how big business is screwing over the laborer. In a way I see how it all is kind of about materialism. Hmm though as I type it out maybe not. Marxism is not really about being for big businesses exploiting their workers he just wanted to let the workers know what was going on. It really was just the businesses that were being materialistic.

Part 2 talks a lot about economics and how money is everything so yeah I guess it just says what Marx had said  in all of his readings really. The author also states that Marx studied modern economics and how “where bourgeois economists saw relations between things Mars saw relationships between people.” I think I can see that for the most part. Marx’s big thing seemed to be labor really. Or at least that is the most common subject I was able to get out of him. Maybe I found it more interesting than anything else. Anyway, he talked about labor and the ownership of labor and in a way personified capital. He was trying to bring people back into the labor process by making them realize they were having their own human element sucked out of them by the businesses they labored for, and how the businesses did not give a crap other than wanting the laborers to go to work all day.

Part 3 is about socialism and how early socialism was basically utopian which in a way reminds me of utopian anarchy. It criticized capitalism and mentioned that revolutions reveal the struggle of the classes. I really like this statement and see a lot of truth to it. I mean how do revolutions start anyway? One particular group, usually a class of people, again usually the lower class, is exploited and/or treated very unfairly by the upper classes. The upper classes get a lot out of mistreating the lower classes and eventually conditions get so bad for the lower classes that they have to stand up and say something or they all die off. Which in this case brings me right back around to the point of what seems to be the same in every part of radical politics that confuses me… How on earth do higher classes expect to exploit the lower classes to the point of killing them and then still turn around a profit if they no longer have people to squeeze money out of? I suppose in class we talked about this a little where we mentioned that the people who use the laborers pay them just enough to make it to work every day. But when you take a closer look at it like in the Paris Commune, eventually they try to pay them so little that they do NOT have enough money to live and make it to work every day. Then they die off and my question still stands. Or if they do not die off then they revolt, which seems to almost always end well for the upper class. Just kidding.

Molecular Red has an interesting picture of Lenin and Bogdanov where it says other people have been erased. Quick note, I always find old photos so fascinating, and especially old school “photoshop” like how did they do that before photoshop? What was the process? I also wonder about this a lot with old movies, which I will probably talk about later when talking about the film we watched in class. I think that is why I find old film so fascinating. Just all the extra work it takes to make a person disappear from a photo without the ease of a computer. Bah! Super cool. Bogdanov is known for having the wrong philosophy because he brought the utopian philosophy back into Marxism. Though I know utopian societies never work out and are rarely the same based on human nature that not everybody will agree so everybody has a different picture of their utopia, I still find it super interesting. Maybe that is why I find it so interesting. It would be cool if everybody a manifesto on their own utopian society. I think maybe you can learn a lot about a person based on that, like if they are a creep, or way too wishy washy, or best friend material you may want to merge your society with. The tone of the writing also seems like they are saying that the fact that the utopia was set on Mars makes it absolutely crazy. I honestly do not know which year we are in anymore when it comes to these writings, but I do think the whole Mars society thing has been around for a while. Not to mention if one believes in science and that it always advances and grows, I do not see how it is all that far fetched really. But that is me looking at it from a 2017 student who is trying their best to keep up with intense readings as much as she possibly can.

The next chapter of Molecular Red mentions that Marx changed the view of how one writes about economics. Apparently no one has before written about it from the point of view from the laborers. Which I think now would seem obvious. But on the other hand we think about how we are told to write, and teachers always say “write about what you know” so maybe this was as revolutionary as the author is saying. I think it is funny that something so simple would not have been thought up for a long time. But then I look at the government we have rich white straight christian men writing about health care for a nation with less white people than non whites as well at at least the same amount of women as men. This and the fact that I am not surprised the new health care seems to cater the rich white men and the insurance companies they all have stock in, then yes I may not be so surprised economics was only written about by the elites. Was Marx an elite? I don’t think that was mentioned in class, or asked at the very least. So really my question is did he flip the point of view or did he just write from his point of view? I do think he deserves all the credit for this no matter which class he was in, but it would be interesting to know eh?

The writings about The Battleship Potemkin were a bit on the informative side but also oddly opinionated. One mentioned that the film is not an art film and anyone who claims it as such has obviously never seen the film. Okay let me take this on as an art student then. Ahem. In 1917 Duchamp presented a found urinal and turned it on it’s side then signed it therefore claiming it as art. This piece of art was then accepted as art therefore proving that anything is art as long as it is called art. And then BOOM basically all the rest of the contemporary art movements were born. Okay maybe the movie was not made specifically to be a piece of art. There are lots or art films that could fall into the category of being specifically film art. But honestly what is film art anyway? The director of the movie may have wanted it to be a political film, and yes it is obviously a political film, but there is way more to the film than that. The author of the article goes on and on forever about cinematography and montage style and blah blah whatever. That is artistic ya dummy. We have spent the entire semester reading long boring writings that I honestly cannot stand in order for me to wait around for the more visual art we get to later and if a dang manifesto is art, then so is this film.

The director uses so many carefully placed artistic shots to tell his story. For example, I noticed how he always showed the captain of the ship as standing on a platform with just the sky as the background. This shows the camera angle from the sailor's’ point of view. That is a storytelling choice as well as an artistic choice. This shows not only is the captain LITERALLY above them but he sees himself as above them and they see him as above them, but not in a good way. The director also tended to use a lot of intimate face shots to show emotion. This is necessary because there is not a lot of talking in the film to express emotion anyway. Portraits as a general are artsy and these dynamic shots help being the audience into the film more, they care more because they recognize the characters and the pure human aspect of emotions. In order for something to be political it has to relate to the audience, well at least in this case with the message the director seems to be trying to get across. He obviously wants the audience to sympathize with the sailors and the citizens. This only happens with dynamic shots of close ups and wide shots of the vas amounts of people. Tension is constantly built with the rhythmic cuts in the stairway scene between people falling down the stairs, being shot and the faces of horror. He also uses intimate shots of the boy getting his hand stepped on which takes the audience right up in the action creating more tension and anxiety from the audience by pretty much throwing them into the action. There is almost no way that anybody could argue that this film is not artistic. You do not have to like art in order for it to be art. Anything is art, especially this film.