#we had entire social media accounts devoted to us

[peachdues]

now is as good a time as any to share that while in college I was part of an illicit pumpkin-placing ring that involved putting pumpkins atop landmarks around campus to the ire and great confusion of campus security. We were among the most wanted by public safety.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Andrew Doyle

Published: Apr 18, 2024

“Why do you think the giraffe has a long neck?” says the naturalist Philip Henry Gosse to his son Edmund while he tucks him up into bed. “Does it have a long neck so that it can eat the leaves at the top of the tree? Or does it eat the leaves at the top of the tree because it has a long neck?”

“Does it matter?” says Edmund.

“A great deal, my son.”

This exchange is taken from Dennis Potter’s wonderful television play Where Adam Stood (1976), a loose adaptation of Edmund Gosse’s Father and Son (1907). Gosse’s book must rank among the very best of autobiographies. It is his account of being raised by his father Philip, one of Darwin’s close contemporaries, a man whose faith in the Bible was so fervent that the revelations of natural selection almost destroyed him.

The question about the giraffes is Potter’s invention, but it adroitly captures the profound inner struggle of this scientist who had devoted his life to a belief-system that was suddenly falling apart. It wasn’t just a matter of changing his mind as new evidence emerged, because the proposition that the earth’s age could be numbered in the billions rather than the thousands was not something that his faith could accommodate. The stumbling block was the Bible, a point that Edmund is quick to acknowledge in his book:

“My Father’s attitude towards the theory of natural selection was critical in his career, and oddly enough, it exercised an immense influence on my own experience as a child. Let it be admitted at once, mournful as the admission is, that every instinct in his intelligence went out at first to greet the new light. It had hardly done so, when a recollection of the opening chapter of Genesis checked it at the outset. He consulted with Carpenter, a great investigator, but one who was fully as incapable as himself of remodelling his ideas with regard to the old, accepted hypotheses. They both determined, on various grounds, to have nothing to do with the terrible theory, but to hold steadily to the law of the fixity of species.”

Philip Gosse had an instinct for scientific enquiry, but the new discoveries simply could not be reconciled with his holy text. His whole being was invested in the Biblical truth, and to cast that in doubt would be to undermine the crux of his being. To admit that he might have been wrong, in this particular instance, would be a form of spiritual death.

Both Gosse’s memoir and Potter’s dramatisation grapple with what Peter Boghossian and James Lindsay (in their book How to Have Impossible Conversations) call an “identity quake”, the “emotional reaction that follows from having one’s core values disrupted”. Their point is that when arguing with those who see the world in an entirely different way, we must be sensitive to the ways in which certain ideas constitute an aspect of our sense of self. In such circumstances, to dispense with a cherished viewpoint can be as traumatic as losing a limb.

The concept of identity quakes helps us to understand the extreme political tribalism of our times. It isn’t simply that the left disagrees with the right, but that to be “left-wing” has become integral to self-conceptualisation. How often have we seen “#FBPE” or “anti-Tory” in social media bios? These aren’t simply political affiliations; they are defining aspects of these people’s lives. This is also why so many online disputes seem to be untethered from reason; many are following a set of rules established by their “side”, not thinking for themselves. When it comes to fealty to the cause, truth becomes irrelevant. We are no longer dealing with disputants in an argument, but individuals who occupy entirely different epistemological frameworks.

Since the publication of the Cass Review, we have seen countless examples of this kind of phenomena. Even faced with the evidence that “gender-affirming” care is unsafe for children, those whose identity has been cultivated in the gender wars will find it almost impossible to accept the truth. Trans rights activists have insisted that “gender identity” is a reality, and their “allies” have been the most strident of all on this point. As an essentially supernatural belief, it should come as no surprise that it has been insisted on with such vigour, and that those who have attempted to challenge this view have been bullied and demonised as heretics.

Consider the reaction from Novara Media, a left-wing independent media company, which once published some tips on how to deceive a doctor into prescribing cross-sex hormones. Novara has claimed that “within hours of publication” the Cass Review had been “torn to shreds”. Like all ideologues, they are invested in a creed, and it just so happens that the conviction that “gender identity” is innate and fixed (and simultaneously infinitely fluid) has become a firm dogma of the identity-obsessed intersectional cult.

Identity quakes will be all the more seismic within a movement whose members have elevated “identity” itself to hallowed status. When tax expert Maya Forstater sued her former employers for discrimination due to her gender-critical beliefs in 2019, one of the company’s representatives, Luke Easley, made a revealing declaration during the hearing. “Identity is reality,” he said, “without identity there’s just a corpse”.

This sentiment encapsulates the kind of magical thinking that lies at the core of the creed. So while it becomes increasingly obvious that gender identity ideology is a reactionary force that represents a direct threat to the rights of women and gay people, there will be many who simply will not be able to admit it. In Easley’s terms, if their entire identity is based on a lie, only “a corpse” remains. From this perspective, to abandon one’s worldview is tantamount to suicide.

This determination to hold fast to one’s views, even when the evidence mounts up against them, is known as “belief perseverance”. It is a natural form of psychological self-defence. After all, there is a lot at stake for those who have supported and enabled the Tavistock Clinic and groups like Mermaids and Stonewall. Many of the cheerleaders have encouraged the transitioning of children, sometimes their own. What we have known for years has now been confirmed: many of these young people will have been autistic, or will have simply grown up to be gay. For people to admit that they supported the sterilisation of some of the most vulnerable in society would be to face a terrible reality.

This idea was summarised in parliament on Monday by Victoria Atkins, Secretary of State for Health and Social Care. Addressing Labour MP Wes Streeting, she said:

“I welcome all those who have changed their minds about this critical issue. In order to move forward and get on with the vital work that Dr Cass recommends, we need more people to face up to the truth, no matter how uncomfortable that makes them feel. I hope the honourable gentleman has the humility to understand that the ideology that he and his colleagues espoused was part of the problem. He talked about the culture and the toxicity of the debate. Does he understand the hurt that he caused to people when he told them to ‘just get over it’? Does he know that when he and his friends on the left spent the last decade crying ‘culture wars’ when legitimate concerns were raised created an atmosphere of intimidation, with the impact on the workforce that he rightly described?”

It remains to be seen whether those politicians who failed to grapple with the implications of gender identity ideology, and who mindlessly accepted the misleading rhetoric of Stonewall and its allies, will have the humility to admit that they were wrong. Many culpable celebrities have been choosing to remain silent in recent days, while others have opted for outright denial. On the question of puberty blockers and their harm to children, television presenter Kirstie Allsop has made the remarkable claim that “it is, and always has been possible to debate these things and those saying there was no debate are wrong”. The concept of “no debate” was official Stonewall policy for many years, and has been a mantra for many within the trans activist movement. To suggest that there have been no attempts to stifle discussion on this subject can only be ignorance, mendacity or a remarkably acute form of amnesia.

Of course, the stakes could hardly be higher. We are dealing with complacency and ideological capture that had resulted in the sterilisation and castration of healthy young people. It is, without a doubt, one of the biggest medical scandals of our time. It is entirely understandable that those who have supported such terrible actions would enter a state of denial. And so we must also be sensitive to those who are now strong enough to admit that they were mistaken.

But we also need to prepare ourselves for the inevitable doubling down. There are those whose psyche cannot withstand the kind of identity quake that Philip Henry Gosse once suffered. His solution was to write a book explaining why God had left evidence of natural selection. It was called Omphalos (1857) – the Greek word for “navel” – and his thesis was that since Adam had no mother, his navel was merely an addition to generate the illusion of past that did not exist. The fossils that were being discovered in the ground were therefore no different than the rings in the first trees in the Garden of Eden. They weren’t evidence of age, but rather part of God’s poetical vision.

Some of the revisionism and excuses from gender ideologues are likely to be even more elaborate. They have invested too much in their fantasies to give up without a fight.

==

As gender identity ideology falls apart, we need to pay attention to who is working to fix the mistakes they made, who is doubling down, and who is remaining silent.

[dankusner]

Is it ever okay to film strangers in public? panopticontent

The experience of realizing you are being surreptitiously filmed by a stranger is now a relatively common one, but this is how it happened for Mitchell Clark: The 25-year-old was working a shift at his Atlanta Target when someone propped up a phone nearby.

“I thought it was for some dumb prank channel,” he says.

It wasn’t until a young woman bent over directly in front of him, her dress short enough to expose her entire bare bottom, that he realized what was going on.

The resulting video captures his shock — his eyes widen and his hands grasp his chest, agog — and later ended up on the OnlyFans model’s Instagram account.

“It made me look like a creep,” he tells me.

The video was an extreme example of a trend where women secretly film men’s reactions to them, often in the gym or in public spaces, either to shame the men for being inappropriate or to highlight the power of their own beauty — in Clark’s case, arguably both.

But this time it caused an uproar:

After Clark made a video about how uncomfortable he felt, other accounts reposted and responded to it, highlighting the ways in which public filming culture had gotten out of control.

(Vox was unable to reach the model for comment.)

It’s been a decade and a half since social media made it possible for anyone’s camera phone video to go viral.

But it’s TikTok, a platform where overnight fame is more achievable than ever, that has turned filming strangers in public into a controversial cottage industry.

While influencers on Vine, YouTube, and Instagram have long used passersby as unwilling background actors to gain clout, TikTok has also allowed those people to offer their sides of the story and actually get heard.

This is, in part, because of editing tools like stitching or dueting, and also because you don’t necessarily need to have a large account in order to go viral on the app.

Viewers are invested in watching all sides of the drama unfold.

Thanks to these responses and a handful of watchdog accounts, a major backlash against public filming has been brewing: Outlets from the Guardian to The Verge to Vice have issued pleas to quit filming strangers, while BuzzFeed christened the unsettling genre with an equally unsettling name: “panopticontent.”

Ask pretty much anyone in the world if they’d like to have someone film them without their permission and post it on the internet, and it’s difficult to imagine a normal person saying yes.

And yet, these videos continue to rack up millions of views, forcing us to reckon with the fact that in 2024, some of the most-viewed content on social media is essentially nonconsensual voyeurism.

There’s clearly an appetite to watch as strangers are shamed, ridiculed, gawked, or generally caught off-guard, even when we know it isn’t exactly morally sound.

A precursor to the form came in 2009: The blog People of Walmart was devoted to making fun of customers wearing embarrassing clothing (unsurprisingly, much of the humor relied on classist, fatphobic, and transphobic stereotypes).

Instagram wrought the rise of many more of these types of accounts, like Subway Creatures, with nearly 3 million followers, which collects images of bizarre-seeming people and circumstances on the New York City subway; Passenger Shaming, for videos of plane freakouts and other bad airport behavior; or Influencers in the Wild, which has more than 5 million followers and invites people to laugh at those who dare film themselves in public. Its website encourages viewers to submit videos by promising “Your clip could be seen by millions!”

The irony that it’s objectively worse to sneakily take a photo of someone else taking a photo of themselves comes secondary to the main goal: driving engagement by laughing at people who don’t know they’re being filmed.

Even supposedly wholesome content has fallen into the same trap.

In 2018, an influencer posted an Instagram Story saga about a potential romance budding between two people on a plane seated in front of her, then later had to apologize when the woman felt that her privacy had been violated.

The “Plane Bae” story went massively viral before anyone questioned whether what they were watching was exactly ethical.

It would be easier if we all collectively decided that it was never acceptable to film random strangers in public, under any circumstances.

But rarely are social questions, especially ones that collide squarely with the ever-evolving norms of our online lives, this uncomplicated.

You do, in fact, have the right to film in public places; as the ACLU points out, the ability to do so “creates an independent record of what took place in a particular incident, one that is free from accusations of bias, lying, or faulty memory.”

This is especially important when filming the police or recording an encounter that could become violent:

The video of George Floyd being murdered, for instance, was crucial in sparking the wave of protests against police brutality in the summer of 2020.

Camera phone videos depicting racism and harassment, particularly during and after the lockdown period, have also opened important conversations about acceptable behavior in a uniquely distressing time.

Do arguments about First Amendment rights and social justice really apply to people who make strangers uncomfortable for engagement on TikTok?

That depends on who you ask.

Most will say they’re simply trying to “spread love” or that they never expected the content to go viral, while refusing to ask themselves tougher questions.

It’s not difficult to imagine, for instance, someone being concerned about their digital privacy for more serious reasons, such as avoiding a stalker.

One woman who was filmed being approached for a high-five by a dancer in Times Square and then began crying was both mocked for her reaction and accused of being racist because the dancer was Black.

Her sister then made a video explaining that she was autistic and has contamination OCD, and therefore doesn’t like being touched.

Another woman was falsely maligned for riding the subway with monkeypox after someone made a TikTok of her, but the reason for the bumps on her skin was actually due to a genetic condition.

There’s little legal recourse for people who find themselves unknowingly caught on camera.

As Derigan Silver, chair of the University of Denver’s media, film, and journalism department, explains, a successful defamation case requires proving that the material contains a “false statement of fact” — but a video tends to show events as they happened, even if divorced from crucial context.

Clark is hoping to get the help of a lawyer to get the original video taken down, but he’s aware that that’s likely as far as it will go.

“It sucks that we’re so far behind with our legal system that not more can be done about this right now. But it’s real, and it’s getting worse,” he says of the scourge of content creators who use strangers as background props.

The idea that privacy laws should evolve to incorporate situations like Clark’s, however, could be a dangerous one.

“We want the ability to record things in public and to document them because it supports very important First Amendment ideals,” says Silver. “The flip side of that is not everybody is doing this with good motives.”

Silver notes that where the law could catch up is by differentiating between newsworthy and non-newsworthy events — say, an encounter with police versus recording an anonymous Target employee — and making it harder to prosecute people who film matters of public consequence.

In a paper on what she coined “forced faming,” British intellectual property law scholar Hayleigh Bosher also points out how the legal system must contend with the rise in deepfake content, which creates real-seeming content out of unwilling people’s likenesses.

No law can solve the problem of people being assholes on social media, but there are other ways to influence people’s behavior online.

“There’s the law, there’s technology, there are cultural norms, and there’s the market,” explains Silver. “We can exert pressure on platforms and say, ‘Stop monetizing these accounts.’ Or they could write technology that makes it more difficult to upload material that violates someone’s privacy. Or we could have people online saying, ‘I’m going to stop watching this stuff.’”

Right now, it’s the cultural norms that are shifting most quickly: This moment has given rise to a number of accounts that call out public filming, like Joey Swoll, with his 7.7 million TikTok followers (his was one of the accounts that drew attention to Clark’s case).

YouTubers like Kurtis Conner, meanwhile, have made videos calling for the end of filming strangers.

But there’s hypocrisy at play here too.

Swoll’s account ostensibly exists to maintain a certain ideal of gym culture, but the majority of his content is dedicated to shaming (usually) women’s behavior — even influencers who are innocuously filming themselves without involving anyone else.

Some of the instances he calls out are indeed objectively horrible, like the woman who pretended to take a video of herself in order to mock the man exercising behind her, but others are more cringeworthy than anything else, like the girl who did a TikTok dance in front of someone using a bench press.

Swoll also seems to have a special interest in objecting to women who claim that certain men at gyms make them feel uncomfortable, and then film the alleged “creep.”

These examples aren’t always black-and-white: The evidence of the alleged harassment or creepy behavior isn’t always clear from the videos, but never does Swoll allow for any interrogation or curiosity about what might have occurred off-camera.

Instead, he’s positioned himself as the head vigilante of the digital Wild West, shaming surreptitious gym recorders by bringing greater attention to them — ironically, the very same thing the women appear to be doing with the “creeps” they film.

The fact that both Swoll and Influencers in the Wild tend to have millions more followers than the people they’re criticizing also adds another layer: When is calling out those who film strangers creating a barrage of attention on bystanders who never wished to be dragged into the public eye in the first place? (Swoll did not respond to a request for comment.)

The thirst for voyeurism content — whether you’re watching a stranger unknowingly get filmed or watching someone scold a stranger for doing the filming — means that accounts who engage in it have a higher likelihood of going viral and scoring lucrative brand deals. Influencers in the Wild, for instance, has its own merch and board game, while Joey Swoll regularly promotes his brand of low-calorie sauces.

Knowing that the demand for “panopticontent” is so high leads creators to produce more of it — often by using TikTok’s stitch or duet feature, which allows them to milk as much clout as they can from a single trending topic or video — whether or not they realize it’s ethically murky.

Faced with questions like, “Is it worth it to pull my phone out right now?” or “Am I a shitty person if I film someone without their knowledge?”

Silver recommends resorting to the golden rule.

We’re already being recorded all the time — by security cameras, by our phones, which track not only our location but every keystroke we make online, and by other people’s cameras — but we’re the ones who decide whether or not to post our own videos online.

Platforms like TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram could theoretically step in to demonetize accounts that make money from non-consensual voyeurism, but this is almost an unimaginable scenario, in part because it feels impossible to enforce.

Until then, it’s up to audiences to shift cultural norms around what’s acceptable behavior online and what isn’t, but given the astonishing popularity of these videos, that doesn’t seem all that likely.

After the incident at Target, Clark’s first thought was that he wanted to make sure it wouldn’t happen to anyone else.

“Working in retail, you get used to people harassing you. I’m not seen as a person anymore, I’m seen as an object,” he tells me.

Increasingly, this is how people on social media view each other: as NPCs, disposable, as background actors with no desires or interests of their own.

While TikTok has allowed Clark to respond publicly and have thousands of people rallying behind him, it’s also responsible for helping to create the problem in the first place.

“There’s a lack of decency, and I think it may be the allure of getting famous and going viral. People think that justifies the means, but it definitely does not.”

[couldyouspeakmyname]

Could you please do some headcannons for yandere shishigumi kidnapping a kind and cute lioness in her own apartment? (You can choose if this is gonna be individual for each lion or if the entire team is going at the same time).

You know I love me some yandere content

Yandere is a portmanteau of two Japanese words. The first is yanderu, which means “to be sick,” and the second is deredere, used here for “lovestruck.” A yandere is often sweet, caring, and innocent before switching into someone who displays an extreme, often violent or psychotic, level of devotion to a love interest.

Bonus Chief Lion

-Maeve

Ibuki

Ibuki isn't the kind to kidnap without provocation. Either you were moving to far for him to see daily, or you were in some sort of danger.

Ibuki has no problem kidnapping you. He plans in advance and has the inner Shishigumi help him.

He feels terrible about it honestly he does, but he cant being himself to let you leave him

He uses chloroform to keep you asleep, as he kidnaps you in the middle of the night.

It was one of the smoothest operations the Shishigumi have managed to pull off.

When you wake up your in a comfortable room, and it's already decorated to your tastes. The only thing is the door locks from the outside and there's bars on the window.

Ibuki walks through the door, looking sheepish.

"I'm so sorry for this, but I couldn't let you leave"

Free

It doesn't take much for Free to jump to kidnapping you.

It could be anything as minor as him having a suspicion you could be moving even a few blocks away. Any distance further from him is a distance he can't allow.

It could also be something as small as someone seeming a bit to friendly, and you looked like you didn't dislike it.

For Free, sometimes you just have to take what's yours. Well, you're his, so he has to get you

He does it on a whim, and breaks in during the middle of the night. He does it with limited help of the other Shishigumi. They mostly just are there for back up

Free wakes you up, throwing a bag at you. "Back what you need, we're going home"

If you try to protest, he'll use force. He wont hurt you, but he's stronger than he looks. Sure, you're a lion too, but few can match Free in a fight. He'll hold you at gunpoint if he has to.

Once you're in the Shishigumi's mansion, you're not leaving until Free know you'll come back

Dolph

Dolph doesn't jump the gun. He's willing to allow you to live your life as easily as possible.

He'd much rather have an organic meeting and grow to be your lover naturally

Dolph wouldn't kidnap you unless he perceived danger to you, or your 'relationship'

Dolph asks you to come with him, and only if you refuse does he actually kidnap you.

It's not scary, so to speak. While you're sleeping, he drugs and kidnaps you. You don't even realize that you've been kidnapped until you've woken up

"Welcome to the Shishigumi."

Agata

Agata hates the idea of uprooting your life, just for him.

He really wants it to be your own choice, but when he's between a rock and a hard place he'll act

Like the rest, you'd have to be moving further than him than he's comfortable with. As a young lion active on social media, you'd have to move more than a days trip away. Perhaps he even saw another male on your social media and that could have also triggered him

Agata doesn't plan as well as the others, and simply unlocks your door (he had a copy of your key) and asks you to pack up and come with him. If you refuse? He's going to apologize the whole time but he will drag you kicking and screaming.

The cops wont be there in time, and Dolph is his back up. You really didn't have a chance.

"I'm so, so, sorry...but I couldn't let you leave"

Chances is they paid off your neighbors, so no one calls the authorities to look for you.

We all know the major would turn a blind eye anyway.

Dope

Dope is the kind to move you before he actually moves you. Your bank account? He has the info and has transferred funds.

Your job? He put together voice clips and had "you" quit.

So by the time you find yourself passing out at home after drinking juice/milk/coffee (beverage of choice) he's already made it look like you were planning on leaving for weeks

No one really says anything when you vanish

You just wake up in the mansion.

"Your move wasn't needed. I can support you just fine"

Miguel

Has some serious reservations about kidnapping you. Someone so sweet doesn't deserve something so traumatic to happen to them

Like many of the Shishigumi, he'd have to be seriously pushed in order to kidnap you.

The likelihood is that he perceived a threat to yourself, or to your future romantic relationship

He snatches you in your apartment in the middle of the night. He really didn't want to have to do this, but it's for your own good.

He's the sort that will grab you himself, but he does apologize more than once

"I'm sorry, but I promise that this will be a good thing."

Jinma

Jinma is another one who doesn't jump to kidnap you.

He does it when he's finally pushed after finding out through the grape vine that you may be moving, and he can't have that

It's already hard to to he can't just talk to you, and the idea of you moving both terrifies and enrages him

Jinma has the more burly members of the Shishigumi do the kidnapping, while he waits for you in the car.

He tries to sooth your anxiety, don't worry, he's not going to hurt you

"Don't worry, I have everything under control"

Hino

Hino, surprisingly, jumps to kidnapping pretty quickly.

He introduces himself early on, so you'll know who he is, just not why he broke into your place in the middle of the night or why he's kidnapping you.

Hino has no qualms about it either, you're really better off with him. He'll treat you like a queen. It's only fitting, given he's the king of beasts.

The reason he kidnapped you is probably trivial, it could have been something like a store owner getting to friendly.

Hino doesn't share very well.

"Don't worry Darling, you'll be well taken care of"

Sabu

Sabu is a yandere that knows he's a yandere and that his feelings aren't normal. Unlike the rest of the Shishigumi, the only thing that would push him to kidnap you is if your life was actually in danger

Perhaps his enemies found you, and now there's no other choice.

He plans ahead, and has movers scheduled to come collect your things the morning after he kidnaps you.

He probably finds some way to drug you, to make you easier to manage and snatch.

When you come to, most of your favorite things are in your room. A candle is burning with your favorite scent. Sabu is waiting for you to awaken.

"Your life was in danger, I couldn't allow you to die"

Chief Lion

Doesn't kidnap you himself, but he is in the car waiting once they drag you in.

Chief has no qualms about kidnapping, and after you kept his interest for more than a few months, he just has the Shishigumi do it for him.

They wait until it's dark, and grab you while no one else is around or awake.

No one will dare come after you, not once word gets out who took you.

You're hands are ties and you can't struggle very much.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance officially. We're taking you to your new home"

Most likely to jump to kidnapping

Free > Hino > Chief Lion > Agata > Ibuki > Dope > Jinma > Miguel > Dolph > Sabu

[buddiebeginz]

I don’t know why this fandom gets so angry about anyone using the term queerbaiting. Look call it whatever you want but the fact is Buck and Eddie are written as more than friends. The writers know it. The show runners know it. We the audience know it. Yet everytime anyone involved with the show (minus Oliver because he’s a  👑)  is asked they act like it’s all in our heads. I’m sorry but that’s an issue especially because the show benefits from having such a devoted vocal fanbase. They get to have us always watching (helping to keep the ratings up), always talking about the show on social media (helping to keep it relevant and bring in new viewers), always getting excited for new promos and spoilers and engaging with the official 911 accounts. Yet they still say stuff like in that article. As if we’re just some weird little fraction of fans coming up with these crazy theories and pushing for Buddie to happen when it’s so outer limits from what’s actually on screen.

Take a second to think about any other friendship on the show and then compare it to Buck and Eddie. Now tell me that these are just two good friends and we’re simply seeing more than what’s intended?

Like when you compare Buck and Eddie to Chim and Hen you can tell there is a significant difference in the way they write for each pair. Or if you want to look at m|m friendships compare them to Michael and Bobby. Or if you watch Lone Star Judd and Billy. There is a vast difference in the kinds of scenes and the way they’re written for Buddie than for other friendships on both shows.

Because Buck and Eddie don’t feel like just friends they feel like two men raising a kid together. Two men who know each other better than anyone else knows them. Who love and support each other better than anyone else. Chim and Hen love and care about each other but the kind of intimacy that exists between two people in love isn’t there with them not the way it is with Buck and Eddie. The way that Buck and Eddie can speak to each other with just a look. The way they have all these inside jokes and stories about their time together. The way they touch each other. The way they trust each other. The way Eddie trusts Buck with what is most important to him in the entire world, Christopher. It’s all different.

The thing is if Buddie was never meant to be a couple and never will be why not keep Eddie with Ana and Buck with Taylor and actually develop those relationships? They still could have done a mental health storyline for Eddie and had Ana supporting him. And I don’t know what they’ve been doing with Buck because he’s clearly not happy with Taylor. So now they’re on season 5 and it seems like neither Buck nor Eddie is going to have a long term love interest at this point. Because the longest and most meaningful (none familial) relationship they’ve had on the show is with each other. Yet the show seems dead set on not putting them together simply because they’re two guys.

Someone in fandom pointed this out before (can’t remember who) but the fact is if Buck and Eddie were a straight couple then they’d already be in a will they/ won’t they saga probably for multiple seasons and we’d just be waiting to see them get together. We’d already know how they felt we’d just have to wait for it happen. But because it’s two guys we have to wait years to get any kind of direct canon confirmation of their feelings and them getting together officially may not happen at all.

In all honesty I get really tired of seeing people praise 911 for the representation it gives to lgbtq people. Sure there’s been some good stuff that’s happened on Lone Star (though that show isn’t perfect either) but the OG sorry to say is sorely lacking on lgbtq stories. 911 has been content to just have a handful of canon background lgbtq characters ones they haven’t really done much at all with. Even Hen’s relationship with Karen has had little focus since season 1. So people praise the show even within our own fandom and yet they don’t do anything to earn that praise. Some of that praise even comes from our love of Buddie. Like we praise them for doing these beautiful scenes with them but then they get away with saying well we never intended it to mean anything more than that.

I just feel like the show runners don’t get that there are ways to write meaningful platonic relationships between same sex characters without making it seem like those characters are in love with each other, if that’s not the intention.

Like why have scenes like the elf, and TK’s comment to Buck assuming he wasn’t straight? Why have Eddie’s shooting be filmed like someone watching their lover dying? Not to mention Buck’s traumatic reaction especially afterward with Christopher.

Why include the will scene at all when they knew especially by the end of season 4 how much people were shipping them?

Also the whole explanation Kristen gave about the will just irritated the hell out of me. I get that she was just pulling from her own life experience but the way the scene played out on screen did not feel like a friend saying hey if something happens to me can you make sure to be there for my kid?

This is how the scene went in 4x14:

Buck comes into the hospital goes and talks to the nurses about Eddie and getting him released ( you know something a spouse without do).

Then Buck and Eddie sit alone in the hospital room on Eddie’s bed. Where Eddie proceeds to call Buck Evan (something almost no one else does). Then tells him about how he put down in his will that Buck would be Chris’ legal guardian if something happened. Also that he did it a while ago but didn’t tell Buck and only decides to tell him now because he wanted to make sure Buck knew that he wasn’t expendable. Eddie also says that his attorney said Buck could refuse and Buck says you know I wouldn’t and Eddie says I know you wouldn’t. Because they just know each other. And it all feels intense and emotional and like Eddie is telling Buck how important he is to him.

Then they leave the hospital and go to Eddie’s where we see Buck standing in the doorway smiling watching Eddie and Chris hug.

Like what about any of that felt like it was platonic?

Another scene that immediately springs to mind too is in 5x02. When Ana came to see Eddie with Chris. It was written and filmed in such a deliberate way to include Buck. They could have had it be Eddie, Bobby, and Ravi instead of Buck. Maybe have Bobby notice something seemed off about Eddie and talk to him (as he’s done before)  but nope it was Buck because it’s always Eddie with Buck and vice versa. They also filmed that whole scene to show Eddie totally checked out from Ana and connected to Buck. The two of them communicating with just a look. Plus they showed Christopher running to Buck like he’s the other parent. They didn’t even have Buck talk to Ana at all. It all felt very much like Buck was “the other woman”. There are ways to write and film a scene to get points across to the audience without having to say it explicitly and a lot felt like it was being communicated through subtext. How else was I supposed to interpret Eddie not even remembering his own girlfriend’s name and ignoring her but staring at Buck?

I know this got super long and I’m not trying to be all negative here but I needed to rant because that article pissed me off. I am thankful we have Buddie and thankful we’ve gotten the scenes we have but I wish the show runners would stop making it seem like more was going to happen if it’s not. Even more I wish they’d stop acting like a deer in the headlights when asked about Buddie. This is not the first season of the show it’s the 5th and they’ve been putting Buck and Eddie in these incredibly intimate scenes for four seasons now. They know what they’re doing. There’s also a lot of different choices they could have made with Buck and Eddie ones that would have made it a lot clearer to the audience where things are headed but it feels like they’re playing this middle of the road nonsense so as not lose Buddie fans and not to alienate their more conservative straight fans.

I’ve been dealing with shows being like this (and worse) for years and years I think I’m just tired of the bs. I want to see shows embrace lgbtq characters and storylines more. I want to see lgbtq characters and relationships treated like straight ones where it’s about the relationships and the chemistry and less about someone’s gender. I feel like a lot of media just gets away with doing the bare minimum now for lgbtq representation and that really needs to change. I love 911 and the work that’s done on there but they really need to do better. A storyline like Buck and Eddie where two men who had previously only dated women fell in love and raised a family together would be pretty ground breaking and I don’t think we’ve seen it on mainstream media before. 911 could break down a lot of stigmas and stereotypes with Buddie if they’re not too chickenshit to actually make it happen that is. 

[perfectlytinyworkspace]

Mitchell: The World as Exhibition

"The four Egyptians spent several days in the French capital, climbing twice the height (they were told) of the Great Pyramid in Alexandre Eiffel's new tower..."

"The Egyptian exhibit had been built by the French to represent a street of medieval Cairo...'It was intended,' one of the Egyptians wrote, 'to resemble the old aspect of Cairo.' So carefully was this done, he noted, that 'even the paint on the buildings was made dirty.'"

To the West, the rest of the world is archaic, antiquated spectacle – a curious view of the past, an antithesis to Western progress "in the right direction"

"The Egyptian visitors were disgusted by all this...Their final embarrassment had been to enter the door of the mosque and discover that...it had been erected as what the Europeans called a façade."

"Together with other non-European delegates, the Egyptians were received with hospitality–and a great curiosity...they found themselves something of an exhibit."

"What [can] this process of exhibiting tell us about the modern West[?]"

modernity as defined by the West positions its own culture as the norm and the mundane, from which "the ordering up of the world itself as an endless exhibition" can be procured as entertainment, curiosity, and an object of "interested study, intellectual analysis"

how can Islam's relationship with modernity be a positive one, defined as it is by this sort of cheapened commodification of its premises as entertainment for the "civilized West"?

Yuval Noah Harari in Sapiens posits that one of the key reasons for Western/European dominance is 'curiosity' and 'the cultural backing to question tradition/history.' Does the "curiosity of the European [encountered] in almost every subsequent Middle Eastern account" following the first Arabic description of 1800s Europe then become a defining factor/formidable strong suit of Western modernity?

Does the "[demonstration of] the history of human labor by means of 'objects and things themselves'" espoused by the European exhibitions of the latter 1800s speak to the beginnings of an increased focus on the "hardware" and "observable, empirical data" of any one subject of study?

Marr's 1982 argument in computational social science: any informational system can be analyzed via 1) problem/computation 2) algorithm 3) physical system hardware; science and especially neuroscience today emphasizes (3) and thus comes away, as argued by some, as an incomplete understanding of the way the brain works

i.e., a bird's mechanisms and purposes for flight cannot be deduced from the study of its physical hardware components alone (feather)

in the same way, an "object lesson" is not the definitive experience of another culture/lifestyle as imagined by the "Histoire du Travail" display of the 1889 Exhibition but rather an overemphasis on the "physical hardware" and material of that culture and European imaginations and (mis)interpretations of its computational/algorithmic functions and purposes

One major Arabic response to Western creations of spectacle is heavy documentation, "[devoting] hundreds of pages to describing the peculiar order and technique of these events–the curious crowds of spectators, the scholarly exhibit and the model...the systems of classifications...the lectures, the plans and the guide books–in short the entire machinery of what we think of as representation."

"They were taken to the theater, a place where Europeans represented their history to themselves..." – non-Western cultures are represented in the same fashion, as spectacle, as traditions and culture from the West's own history. In unifying their systems of representation the West has relegated the rest of the world, including the Arab world and Islam, to the same status as its own history

Is a society's/culture's own history also a form of subjugated knowledge? i.e., when history is remembered as tragic and painted as a negative, primitive state rather than a series of traditions and stories to be revered, does that indicate the modern knowledge vanquishing/subjugating the past knowledge?

"The Europe in Arabic accounts was a place of spectacle and visual arrangement, of the organization of everything, and everything organized to represent...some larger meaning."

"intizam al-manzar, the organization of the view" – is this...the panopticon? Western visual organization of spaces, spectacles, and symbols to convey their interpretations of non-Western cultures feels very much akin to a disciplinary technique to exercise power subtly over the bodies and <souls> of non-Western individuals/populations.

the spectator role holds no power – the spectator can only witness and be complicit to his own objectification

'objectification' in the sense that the individual becomes a material representation of 'the Orient' or 'the East' and all of his actions, thoughts, speech, mannerisms are subsequently first filtered through the lens of this representation to fit to the Western idea of 'his culture and people' before they are attributed to him, and the resulting communication of his identity and actions is so garbled and perverted that it really only serves to reinforce the West's perception of them.

"First, there was the apparent realism of the representation. The model or display always seemed to stand in perfect correspondence to the external world...Second, the model, however realistic, always remained distinguishable from the reality it claimed to represent...the medieval Egyptian street at the Paris Exhibition remained only a Parisian copy of the Oriental original."

Is this an example of Baudrillard's hyperreality? And if it is, does that mean that, as he states, 'neither the representation nor the real remains, just the hyperreal'?

furthermore, if only the hyperreal remains, what is the hyperreal? we know that the representation is the Parisian perception of the non-Western world, and that the real is the non-Western world itself (but is that world in the past or the present?)

so in this instance I suppose neither of them remain and the strangely perfect-but-not "Parisian copy of the Oriental original" is the only thing present – the "effect called the real world"

"...the world of representation is being admired for its dazzling order, yet the suspicion remains that all this reality is only an effect."

Is the "search for a pictorial certainty of representation" unique to the West?

was the creation of hyperreality uniquely borne of Western society? The argument is that the East is "...a world where, unlike the West, such 'objectivity' was not yet build in"

does Western hyperreality alone fall between Islam and an understanding reached with Western Judeo-Christian societies?

can the obstacle of exhibition/spectacle be overcome? Who needs to make the first step to overcome it, the West or the East? What does this first step look like, and it is actually possible to achieve given the nature of media coverage and social media in the modern era that creates a new hyperreality with regards to our understanding of the outside world?

The only objects and locations of value to Western modernity are those whose "pictorial certainties of representation" can inspire awe, wonder, marvel – or fit in with the overall Western representation of non-Western cultures as an exhibition of interest.

"The ability to see without being seen confirmed one's separation from the world, and constituted, at the same time, a position of power." – the panopticon guard!!

"To establish the objectness of the Orient, as a picture-reality containing no sign of the increasingly pervasive European presence required that the presence itself, ideally, become invisible." – this harkens to covert US support of Middle Eastern regimes that benefitted its own oil interests in the area while at the same time performing espousal of the area's "democratic rule" and "self-governance," "autonomy"

in pursuing an "authentic experience" as an outsider, the European spectator necessarily creates his flawed, hyperrealistic representation of the non-Western individual by appropriating "the dress and [feigning] the religious belief of the local Muslim inhabitants" as his disguise of invisibility and non-perception, despite "...being a person who had no right to intrude among them."

"Unaware that the Orient has not been arranged as an exhibition, the visitor nevertheless attempts to carry out the characteristic cognitive maneuver of the modern subject, separating himself from an object-world and observing it from a position that is invisible and set apart."

Western modernity is the European pursuit and implementation of a hyperreal representation of Islam with the underlying desire to both observe the true nature of the spectacle within and remain unobserved (thus holding onto a position of power)

"This, then, was the contradiction of Orientalism. Europeans brought to the Middle East the cognitive habits of the world-as-exhibition, and tried to grasp the Orient as a picture."

I'm not sure if this is still the prevalent world-view, or if it is one example of the Western tendency to impose its own perspective of the Middle East onto the reality of issues in Arab and non-Western countries

i.e., the viewpoint that democratization is the best and inevitable system of governance and steps away from it are 'regression' towards 'the archaic past'

when the Orient that is not created as an exhibition fails to meet the European spectator's expectations, that reality is 1) dismissed as inferior or 2) painted as corrupted by non-Western modernity, which is always 'straying away from the true form of the Orient,' which can now only be found in European definitions of the non-Western world in the eyes of the European tourist/scholar

very similar to Christian scholars stating that they 'saved Buddhism' by 'rediscovering the pure, original form of the religion' beneath 'idolatry and other corruptions of the core Buddhism'

[kuraiandroger]

Diasomnia Relationship Headcanons

Basically what the title says, they’re my favorite dorm and I’ve projected on them a lot so I hope I’m not alone in how I see these dynamics </3 Enjoy!

 Lilia and Malleus

I see them as parent and child, even though Malleus seems to want to hide that sometimes. It’s probably because of his title and his age gap with the other children in the “family”  that maybe he feels embarrassed about Lilia doting on him, but oh well. I still see him as a child compared to Lilia (despite the fact that he literally is lol) because he seems to be a lot less present in the kids’ lives, and we’ve gotten several glimpses of his apparent emotional immaturity (Avoiding his problems, throwing “lightning tantrums”, sulking, etc). Paired with the fact that Lilia covers for him a LOT while still acknowledging these issues he has... I just can’t see them as equals lol. I only see a father and his very mildly unruly lol son. U_U It’s okay Malmal I know you’re trying your best.

Lilia and Silver

A rather similar relationship to Lilia and Malleus, to be honest. It’s just a lot more open, and I suspect that’s because Silver is sort of young and he doesn’t really have anyone else he’d rather run off with. His temperament is different than Malleus to an extent; Silver doesn’t strike me as a child with a single rebellious bone in his body, so he has no problems hanging out with and admiring his old man. I like to think Lilia had a very tender bond with both of his sons when they were infants, and some of that shows still in his relationship with Silver. They are just good ol dad and son (but really, dad, I’m fine with doing the cooking for tonight).

Lilia and Sebek

Sebek himself has called Lilia his mentor, and I really think that’s the basis of what they are, but I also think Lilia takes some of the liberty of acting like a dad to Sebek too sometimes. I believe Sebek was very present in Silver’s childhood so he is comfortable with Lilia’s authority. A good example of this was when Lilia told Sebek to use a quieter voice in Sam’s shop, much like the way a parent would scold their child lol. Sebek, too, while admittedly gullible, seems to heed Lilia’s advice with great respect, such as when he showed the other first years his secret natto ingredient that he’d heard was good from Lilia.

Malleus and Silver

Contrary to what most people think (due to Malleus’ status as Silver’s guardian), I don’t entirely see him as “Silver’s other dad.” Here’s where I start projecting lmao because I had a sibling who was many years older than me myself, so I sort of get the “older sibling who I respect because they are that much older than me but I also barely know them” vibe from these two. I am sure that Malleus took responsibility for Silver when needed, but it’s just really obvious to me that Lilia is the primary parent and Mal almost certainly looked to him for advice. I dunno, I could be completely wrong about this one, but I am just rather hung up on Lilia still viewing Malleus as his child despite the fact that he is long grown and therefore Malleus doesn’t seem to place the same priority on parenting Silver that Lilia does (which, yeah, I realize could very well be because of Malleus’ title and all). 

Some people have said it could’ve been out of respect, but I’ve also taken into account how little Silver seems to acknowledge Malleus as anything more than his liege (he didn’t even know very much about Malleus’ interest in gargoyles which....blows my mind a little lol) and really calls Lilia his father instead. There is a peculiar blend of comfort and distance between Malleus and Silver that I personally don’t entirely see as a parent-child dynamic </3. For the most part, I just see these two as distant age-gap siblings wherein the older one might’ve helped raise the younger one but was too much older than the younger sibling to really connect with them  (This could change during the Diasomnia chapter, but yeah). TL;DR: Distant older sibling Mal, as evidenced by Lilia’s much higher influence as the true “father” figure.

Malleus and Sebek

A pretty obvious lord-and-knight dynamic here lol. Malleus seems pretty indifferent to Sebek’s devotion, but Sebek still wants to impress him anyways. I’m sure Malleus just lets him do whatever because Sebek’s a little kid to him lmao

Silver and Sebek

This one! My favorite one! Their sibling-like dynamic really stands out to me because again, I have lived it lmao. I like to see them as a sibling rivalry because it’s very refreshing to see within a piece of media that also focuses on sibling characters that do get along (the Leeches, etc). These two tend to bicker, and they only hang out when they have to (such as when the whole family is together, or when they’re at their school club), and seem to have their own separate social lives despite knowing a lot about each other. I’ve noticed they also pick on each other for things the other cannot control (such as Sebek’s “annoying” voice, or Silver’s sleep disorder). As someone who has a sibling I really don’t get along with sometimes, it just hits home lol.

I’ve noticed that something else us bratty siblings will do, is tend to ignore any traits we have in common in favor of shaming the things we don’t share... Which is very much something that Sebek and Silver do to one another. In reality, I really do think they have rather similar personalities, but the fact that each one expresses it so differently causes them to fight (for example, Silver and Sebek are both very blunt but careful individuals, yet their level of enthusiasm for what they do is a source of conflict). Despite this, sibling rivalry-dynamic characters will still have moments where they get along, such as when they share an activity, like swordfighting.

I like to think that while Sebek is quite literally just Silver’s childhood friend, they have reached a level of comfort (and annoyance) with one another after years of growing up together that their dynamic manifests the way argumentative siblings do, and I love that for them.

---

SOOO uh, thank you for reading if you did! This is my first text post in a really long time, please be nice to me if you happen to disagree with any of this, it’s just headcanons! Sorry if it’s a bit wordy at times too, I like to shove as much in as I can. </3 Anywho, we’ll get a better scope when Diasomnia’s chapter releases someday, haha. 

[thisdancingheart]

Remember YFIP?

My Year of Grief and Cancellation

What was I trying to accomplish with my anonymous Tumblr?

By Liat Kaplan Feb. 25, 2021, 5:00 a.m. ET https://www.nytimes.com/2021/02/25/style/your-fave-is-problematic-tumblr.html

If you were on Tumblr in the early 2010s, you may remember a blog called Your Fave Is Problematic. If not, its content should still sound familiar to you. The posts contained long lists of celebrities’ regrettable (racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, ethnophobic, ableist and so on) statements and actions — the stuff that gets people canceled these days.

That blog was my blog. I spent hours researching each post; as you can probably imagine, my search history was pretty ugly.

Your Fave Is Problematic had around 50,000 followers at its peak, in 2014, when I was a high school senior, but its influence was outsized. I got in a feud with a prominent young adult fiction author over his inclusion. One actor submitted himself, perhaps as a dare (or a plea) to dig up his worst. “Problematic fave” became a well-worn meme; even after I stopped posting, my blog was cited in books, articles, podcasts and think pieces. Through it all, my identity stayed private.

The blog started, as so many anonymous online projects do, as vengeful public shaming masquerading as social criticism. I was fine-tuning my moral compass and coming into my own as a feminist. So when I noticed classmates making sexist jokes on Facebook, including some about me, I started taking screenshots to post on a Tumblr called Calling Out Sexists. My policy was that I would take down a post only if its author publicly apologized.

A group of students brought the blog to the attention of our school’s administrators, who threatened to take legal action if I continued to write about them. Meanwhile, other Tumblr users had begun submitting screenshots featuring statements from minor celebrities. With graduation hanging in the balance, I shifted my focus away from my peers and toward public figures. I rebranded. Money and fame had protected them since time immemorial. What harm could my little blog do?

So I posted photos of Lady Gaga in V magazine with her skin bronzed to an unnatural brown. I pulled out troubling quotes from an essay Lena Dunham had written about a trip to Japan. I noted Taylor Swift’s since-changed homophobic lyric in “Picture to Burn.” My most popular posts tended to be about women — which makes sense, because the celebrity press tends to be more critical of them.

As it turned out, I had bigger things to worry about than dissecting the careers of celebrities I’d never met. On a winter morning, I woke up to the news that my older sister, Tamar, who was studying in Bolivia, had been in a bus crash, and the outlook was not good. I pored over research to escape from what felt like an impossible situation: my sister slowly dying of treatable injuries in a rural area thousands of miles away.

We held a public memorial service for Tamar in our hometown. Some of my classmates showed up, including a few who had written nasty things about me online. I found their shows of kindness insulting now, during what was quickly becoming the worst year of my life.

I tried going back to school after a few weeks, but I found myself picking frequent arguments with classmates and teachers. The school made an arrangement with my parents: I would be placed on “medical leave” for the remainder of the semester. I would graduate on time, but I wouldn’t return to campus.

Stuck at home, I devoted myself to Tumblr. What was I trying to accomplish? Mostly, I was interested in knocking people off their pedestals. I also enjoyed being popular, controversial, discussed. When a comedian I had posted about name-checked my blog on Twitter, I was giddy.

Then I started receiving threats. Someone sent me a screenshot of a house from Google Maps, claiming to have found my IP address. It wasn’t my house, but still. I realized that for every person on Tumblr who looked up to my blog, there were many more, online and offline, who hated it — and me. I started posting less and, eventually, stopped posting at all.

In the years since, I’ve looked back on my blog with shame and regret — about my pettiness, my motivating rage, my hard-and-fast assumptions that people were either good or bad. Who was I to lump together known misogynists with people who got tattoos in languages they didn’t speak? I just wanted to see someone face consequences; no one who’d hurt me ever had.

There’s something almost quaint about it all now: teenage me, teaching myself about social justice on Tumblr while also posturing as an authority on that very subject, thinking I was making a difference while engaging in a bit of schadenfreude. Meanwhile, other movements — local, global, unified in their purposes and rooted in progressive philosophies — were organizing for actual justice. Looking back, I was more of a cop than a social justice warrior, as people on Tumblr had come to think of me.

These days, there’s no shortage of online accountability efforts, the large part of them anonymously run. Some accounts post typically anodyne but occasionally explosive celebrity gossip. Others are explicitly aimed at naming, shaming and punishing people for all kinds of actions and missteps. My own work fell somewhere in the middle, I think; the information I posted was out in the open, but I was cataloging it to make a case against the veneration of the rich and famous.

As many have noted, the coronavirus pandemic has pronounced the distance between celebrities and the rest of us. And their actions have been subject to greater scrutiny — the vacations they’ve gone on, the parties they’ve held, the access they’ve had to testing and care during a health crisis that has taken millions of lives.

But celebrity culture began to crumble long before Covid-19. Mounting accusations of many kinds, whispered between industry professionals, had become too loud to ignore. Social media, which gave celebrities more control over their images and influence over their fans, also opened them up to new kinds of criticism. People have lost jobs and entire careers because of the kinds of errors my blog cited. Others have apologized for work and behavior that, re-examined in a contemporary context, just doesn’t hold up.

For years, I’ve regretted the spotlight I put on other people’s mistakes, as if one day I wouldn’t make plenty of my own. There can be an unsparing purity to growing into one’s social conscience that is often overbroad.

My brain wasn’t ready for nuance. I was angered by hypocrisy and cruelty; what I did about it was apply a level of scrutiny that left no room for error. I’m not saying that I should be canceled for my teenage blog. (Please don't!) I just know what we all should know by now: that no one who has lived publicly, online or off, has a spotless record.

For these reasons, I’ve thought about deleting my Tumblr. But doing that would mean erasing my own errors of judgment. I almost feel like I need to leave it up to punish myself for having made it in the first place. That, and I know someone could (and probably would) just pull it up on Wayback Machine. The internet, after all, never forgets.

~~~~~~~

[flapperdame16]

The Queen by Matthew Dennison Book Review!

(image: Head of Zeus Publishing)

Anyone who knows even a little inkling about me will know how much of a supporter I am of The Queen and the British Royal family. Since my childhood, I've been fascinated with Queen Elizabeth, even telling my Mom as young as age three (in the late 90s) I wanted to, "visit a place with a Queen".

At that age I didn't know the Queen by name, but the image I had inside my head was definitely of Elizabeth. A woman with short white hair wearing a crown was what the image of a, "Queen" , was to me. Fast forward to late 2010, just before William and Kate's engagement, and I became a full blown Royal watcher. Since I have been 14, I collect magazines, make an effort to watch video appearances, see documentaries, and follow many Monarchy devoted blogs and social media accounts to keep up with what is happening within "the fold". I watch The Crown every season on its release date (or close to its release date), and know all the latest buzz, but bizarrely, I never have sat down to read a full life biography of Queen Elizabeth. I have magazines, and coffee table books about her, but never chose out a biography. It's so difficult to choose a good one in a sea full of books, and for that, I am so thrilled I got the opportunity to read distinguished royal author Matthew Dennison's (he has written three other royal biographies) newest book simply and elegantly titled: The Queen. What makes Dennison's book stand out against the rest is firstly it's one of the first books to be published about the Queen after the death of Prince Philip, The Duke of Edinburgh. It looks at their relationship throughout its entirety, giving a fresh examination on the longest royal marriage in history. It was comforting to be reassured how strong the bond between Philip and Elizabeth was. Sure they had their rough patches in their relationship, and nasty rumors along the way, (particularly in the late 50s), but I'd venture to say any marriage, and relationship that was established for 73 years does. It's not so much the bumps in the road they had, it was how they were able to navigate and work through them that counts. It's important to remember Philip and Elizabeth fought for their love, at the time of their marriage with anti-German sentiment, and they endured right up to Philip's death. Its inspiring, especially in the time we live in now. Secondly, I will mention this book does not deviate on tangents about others, its focus is always centered on Elizabeth. Throughout  her long reign, many players both personally and professionally have crossed paths with HM; prime ministers, daughters-in-law, members of staff, and a whole bunch of others. Rather than devoting entire paragraphs to other players such as Prime Minister Winston Churchill, Princess Diana, HM The Queen Mother, or Private Secretary Martin Charteris, Dennsion gives us info about them on a need to know basis in relation to their relation to Queen Elizabeth. This keeps the writing focused with a strong flow in regards to the star subject. At the same time, it allows you to have basis of facts of certain players you may not know much about. During my own reading, to have a background context of the Prime Ministers was certainly a highlight for me, as I personally don't know much about the British Parliament and the people in it! Moreover, I want to point out how fascinating it was to read an in depth analysis of HM's childhood and young adult life before becoming Queen, as it's really the "least" documented part of her life. As with Queen Victoria many people only see Elizabeth as, "The old lady Queen", and it's sad many  forget at one point she was a vibrant young women who reveled in being a 1950s military wife, and someone who grew up in a close knit household in a family unit of consisting of "we four" (herself, her parents, and sister, Margaret).

When she was born in 1926, Elizabeth was not in immediate line for the throne as her father Bertie (later George VI) was the second son of George V. David (later the abdicated, Edward VIII) was the oldest son and therefore, first in line. Elizabeth's childhood until the 1936 abdication (and the following Second World War) was spent as minor royalty, that only serious royal watchers in the 1920s/1930s would read about. Yet at the same time, she was the only "princess" at the time of her birth, and she was the only titled royal grandchild. Elizabeth had cousins who were daughter of her aunt, Princess Mary, Countess of Harewood, but those two sons were not HRHs. I learned just how fascinated people were with HM in her childhood, and it really drew parallels to how today people are fascinated with Princess Charlotte. From sparking name trends, to clothing trends, to making popular toys come en vogue, princess inspiration has always been in the public interest! Finally, I'd like to bring the to attention the fair criticism this book brings to Elizabeth's reign: it's no secret that no one is perfect. Elizabeth has had her fair share of political clashes, family problems and even scandals within her long reign. Its balanced in saying the longer one lives, the more events- both good and bad- you witness. The book is pretty nuanced when bringing up touchy topics such as the Princess Margaret and Group Captain Peter Townsend's romance, HM's parenting skills/ relationships with her children, the Aberfan disaster of 1966, and Princess Diana' death to name a few.

As in within the book, it's all about points of view and the facts. I'm delighted to say the book doesn't take sides when viewing these topics, rather gives enough info for the reader to form their own opinion. I must say, however, I particularly didn't care for the slightly snide remarks given towards Princess Diana- always calling her every move "revenge" towards the family. That rubbed me the wrong way, but as I said, it's all about perception.

Overall, this book was a really informative read that is not just a rehash of the same ol', same ol' you would read in any random biography of Queen Elizabeth. With the last chapter clocking in at page 506, it may seem like a long dung out read, but it goes by quickly once you start digging in. (Personally I spotted one error on page 403, it's William Arthur Philip Louis, not William Philip Arthur!)

What I personally took away from the read was The Queen is an enduring woman. She's witnessed hardships of war, family crisis, premature deaths, scandals, and even the covid-19 pandemic, yet she's always been there for her people, her family and her country. She's been able to navigate changing times and as The Crown actress Claire Foy has said in her 2017 Golden Globes acceptance speech, Elizabeth has been at "the center of the world" since 1953 when she ascended to the throne. I don't think I myself could do better if I were in her shoes, and all that's left to do now, I believe,  is to appreciate her hard work and dedication. God save the Queen!

Above: My Copy of The Queen with (some of!) my other Royal books! :)

I'd like thank Hailey and the whole team at Kaye Publicity for sending me a copy of the book to read and review. The Queen by Matthew Dennison will be available to own on September 1, 2021 in the USA and is available worldwide online and in participating stores. Links are as follows, and check out my YouTube Review video HERE)

AMAZON USA (Hardcover)

Barnes and Noble

AMAZON UK (Hardcover)

The Queen Goodreads' page

Matthew Dennison Author page

The Queen (Head of Zeus Publishing page)

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep6: Joey Wheeler is on Fire, Yet Again

Came down with a little sickness-not the biggie, just a little sly guy. But I took some meds, I’m a little floaty, I’ve only been listening to baroque music all morning for some reason? And I hate baroque music usually? But I’ll leave it to bro to tell me if this is fluid enough.

Just so you know, these caps were kind of a hot mess for a while and some of them read like that Garfield in of hot eat the food comic until...today. So pls don’t judge me, Judge my damn DMV where no one was following Covid regulations because I’m pretty sure that’s where I got this damn cold.

We start off with Roland getting more attention than he ever has in his entire life. Like honestly, I don’t know what Roland’s job really is...but he’s got a very diverse set of very useless skills. One of which, is knowing how to announce sports games that aren’t really a sport, while those games he’s announcing slowly fall into chaos.

Anyway, Roland’s taking so long cherishing his sweet time before everything goes to hell, that he’s boring Joey, who’s kinda turned into a ball of stress in the waiting room.

A lot of this episode is us watching them watching Joey having a break down moment by moment, TBH.

(read more under the cut)

Yugi telling Joey to study his cards and straight up--what?

Like at this point they know what’s on the cards, right? Like there comes a point where even Yugioh cards have a finite amount of words and I’m just going to assume that like...Joey probably knows them all in his own deck, right?

(bro note: they have no limit on what they will put on a card)

Then again, maybe Yugi doesn’t know what “study” means?

Also, appreciate how some artist crosshatched the hell on Joey’s nose there and I zoomed out and ruined it.

Now for some reason every duelist is hanging out in the duel lodge, including our current arch-villain guy who’s brought a book. I want to know what book this guy even reads so no one could suspect he’s actually a hacker who uses computers. He’s reading romance, right? And I don’t think he’d even be into Twilight, I think he’s straight up into hard core Mom romance like a lame ass Nicholas Sparks over there reading “Dear John” for the millionth time because he is completely un-phased by anything else happening in this room.

Joey, our hero, just out there being an asshole for no reason.

After Tea is pushed into a locker or something screaming about her need for female friends (which she screamed in earshot of Rebecca again, who I figured was on friends terms with her after last episode...but I guess not) Leon hops up to remind us that we should be caring about the fact that his character exists.

And like, I love Leon’s hair color--that’s a good choice, and legit that is the color I tried to dye my hair at the beginning of the epidemic (it didn’t work PS, my hair cannot take dye for the life of it) but also like...he just kinda feels like a weak Rebecca as far as characters go. He’s young, he’s good at cards...I think he goes to a private school? That’s all I can think of about Leon.

He mostly just reminds us that the big prize of this tourney is to duel Yugi, who anyone could have dueled at any point even without the tournament.

On the way out of the...duel room? lounge? Area? Joey decides to like...make peace with Zigfried, and I gotta tell you, I kinda have to side with Zigfried, because Joey spent the last ten minutes being a freak in the dressing room/lounge/bathroom and at one point looked like he was going to hold the entire locker room in a stranglehold.

I would also want some space from Joey Wheeler, is what I’m saying.

After insulting Joey’s style (which honestly, Joey...has a style? He pops his collar, that’s his entire style.) Zigfried assures us that Joey’s gonna lose and like...

...probably, right? Just looking at the plausible direction this season will go.

Anyway, Joey is such a mess (which is the theme of the episode, that Joey needs to learn to chill in order to win at card games) that Rebecca is like “I understand if all of you leave me to go help our poor baby Joey.” And no one felt bad for her.

Mokuba comes over to tell everyone all of the Kaiba family secrets because Mokuba has no filter.

Seto has devoted himself to staring at a computer screen for the rest of this episode. I guess he’ll put their names into Google, realize that social media hasn’t been invented yet, and then just lie his head down on the desk and take a power nap until the tournament is over. Much like I did after taking Dayquil this afternoon.

I like how Seto dressed for success and then locked himself in the server room for most of this arc so far. Maybe he’s just...really tired, I dunno. I don’t really blame the guy, he’s had a hard time.

And then Yugi was like “DAMN IT MOKUBA, JUST ONCE CAN YOU NOT INVITE THE ILLUMINATI???”

And we had a weird scene where Yugi just started talking to the ghost and it was while he was talking to everyone else, and the show didn’t treat it like that’s a weird thing to do...but it was a weird thing to do.

This show does that sometimes, where I guess they imply that Yugi’s Pharaoh conversations are split second conversations but...they’re not, right?

Also this chick ain’t gone yet, and Mokuba is just failing at his entire job for not zeroing in on vibes coming off this chick like stinky cheeseman.

So listen.

Did the Kaibas make like 3 types of Blue Eyes Caboose to one up Noah? Because Noah made one choo choo dragon, and then Mokuba and Seto were like “how dare” and then made sure that everyone ride every single version of the blue eyes caboose just to see how proud of them they were.

How many months of troubleshooting was the train? Like how long in development did Seto and Mokuba spend on these? A lot right? Like most of the time?

I did not check the subs to see if Roland said Jumping or Champion but I like to believe that Roland thought it was a cool new name he gave him.

Then these guys all showed up.

Hey so...can we talk seating arrangements?

Tea decided not to sit next to Yugi after complaining about not spending time with him for like how many episodes? Or was it too awkward to sit on top of what was probably Pharaoh?

Or did Mokuba go like “please, Tea, I cannot sit next to the others because I’m pretty sure one is a mole that is about to go cray” and was Tea like “Good, I need female friends, these ones are driving me crazy!” and then was Mokuba like peering desperately over the edge of his self made dragon train prison realizing he has to listen to Tea complain about boys for the rest of his ride across molten lava?

Headcanons abound about this weird seating arrangement that the animators drew for the reasons they did...but reasons I cannot fully understand. That and the Dayquil is making me overfixate on random stuff.

And also, Tea is kind of the Kaiba’s security’s understudy. Just there to always protect Mokuba with her ass because she’s the strongest woman alive.

PS I missed the tumblr wars because at the time I was trying to like...run a proper business on blogger. When Blogger died and I jumped over here it was like a weird ruin where everyone was like “tumblr is the most toxic place alive” and...I’ve had a really nice time here, actually. Completely missed that civil war period and I have no regrets.

Now I was there for the Petz wars (warz, I guess) where people were very militant about Petz abuse (abuze?) where apparently people were using the spray bottle on their catz too much and people were very, very upset about it to the point that they were like campaigning about it on their angelfire websites with the most bizarre grassroots campaigns that I still recall, to this day because they were like...well they looked like this:

PLAPA. Not only am I 100% positive that only this one guy ever called this movement PLAPA, but I’m 100% positive that not only are Catz not real people, but also this wasn’t actually happening and we never had any proof that it was. Either way, if people knew or suspected that you hadn’t deleted the spray bottle from your game (which at the time I had no idea how to do because I was a wee child) they would basically assume you were on a one way road to being a mass murderer in real life.

In real life we were 7 years old so like...thanks?

But that’s the closest I got to toxicity and at the time I was too young to make an email account and actually converse with these people. I was just there to download their Petz hexes, and I already made a post about how wonderful and incredible Petz Hexing was.

And y’all, I heard, just now after a little deep dive into the Petz Abuse debacle (which yes, is on the wiki), that apparently, like gardening, Petz Hexing came back in a big way during the epidemic--and I have found an active Petz forum in this the year 2021. The only problem is that I no longer remember how to use old timey forums...and I think I’m locked out of seeing most of these threads (and like this forum is so old I think I have to send them a letter in the physical mail to apply). But, I’m pretty sure they’re hosting a picture contest for who’s dogz poses the best. And I’m pretty sure someone created a hexxed Pickle Rick. Or it’s a photoshop that was made to look like a hexxed Pickle Rick.

Dammit why did it have to be Pickle Rick? That’s not worth re-installing Petz and getting it to run on Windows 10...

Guys is this the Dayquil? Is this really happening? I feel like I’m losing my mind for so many reasons...

Anyway, speaking about useless hexing it’s about time that our villain did something that was actually dangerous, so Zigfried decided to install a new virus that does more than turn off the lights. (it still turns off lights)

the Spreadsheet Virus!

Confounded by the spreadsheet software, it...um...it does this:

Straight up how does Excel make a volcano erupt? Is that why I have to pay for Microsoft office now?

All this because Joey made fun of Zigfried’s naturally pink hair? Which is the most normal hair on this series outside of like...Tristan?

Hey guys...Joey’s fine, right? Like how many times has Joey been on fire? And once in an iron cage next to like...a Fire Golem?

Joey’s fine.

MAN I miss Fire Golem. He had a good mug.

And then we just kinda watch chaos go across the park, chaos that includes: Too many ghosts in the haunted mansion (which honestly--you’ll get your money’s worth, sounds great!), the Ferris wheel goes kinda fast and thus might accidentally be fun, the lights turn off at some concert stage that only had 2 people on it (so it might just be motion detector lights and not even a virus), and um...literal fire and magma are going to set Joey Wheeler on fire.

Just...one of these events does not seem like the others. In fact most of these things sound like good improvements to the park and they should just hire Zigfried at this point.

Roland puts down his microphone and jogs across the stage, about a mile through the audience bleachers, and into the staff lounge, to go and bother Seto Kaiba, who is in a room that has a hi-def classical painting copy-pasted on the wall and I can’t look away from it.

I almost did a Google search on this painting but then thought better about it. There’s like...a billion classical paintings that look exactly like this, and they wouldn’t use like a Monet, they would have to do something that’s harder to catch to avoid copyright issues (because yes, even old ass paintings have copyright issues, but no one tell NFT’s which are going to be so freakin screwed and was such a bad idea, that I can’t even start).

Anyway, I have no idea who it is and it is legitimately driving me up a wall, but I’m on too much meds to do the effort of putting it in a reverse google image search.

Plus, a reverse google image search would only pull up Seto Kaiba.

So Kaiba takes us on a little flashback to his weird ass past, a weird ass past that just...doesn’t follow any of the established timelines, but I assume was shortly after adoption but before Seto got into a phase where he wore his school outfit everywhere and tried to shove his MMO off onto his Dad as a business model.

Seto is like 8 for some reason. I don’t know why, they kinda drew him younger this season anyway, like maybe they got a lot of fan mail and realized “Hey I think we made the 16 yo boy too sexy?” And they just toned Seto the hell down. That, and it’s a different animation team, and maybe they looked at Seto’s character design and were like “we don’t get paid enough to draw this well.” So...since Seto actually looks like a teen again, I guess his 12 year old self has to look like he’s in Elementary school.

Also, I only recognized this, because at some point in S3 as I was roasting Noah Kaiba’s weird fashion:

I remember distinctly roasting that little bow tie. I don’t remember when I wrote it, I think there was a version of this outfit that was in color...but I don’t remember where.

Anyway, it’s not the same jacket...but man that’s kind of awkward, ya? Like the maid who dressed Mokuba deffo got fired?

He um.

Turned the lights off a little bit.

Guys this villain is like...

...why does he think lights are scary? Like look at little Seto here. The boy is already bored. Seto duels on the edges of cliffs...he doesn’t care about the freakin dark.

We had a guy who killed everyone on the planet last season, and this season we have a little fashion gremlin standing in the corner and flicking the light switch going  “wooooo you never catch me!” and it’s like...

...I’m starting to think this guy isn’t a witch.

Like we’re at Episode 6, there’s still time for this guy to be a witch...but I really am starting to think this guy is just...straight up not a witch. It’s everything Seto wanted, a rival who isn’t a freakin magic person...and sets Joey only fake on fire instead literally on fire like last time...

and Seto is just completely unhinged by it.

Anyway, I’m off to go drink a bowl of soup and pass out. If you’re new here, this is a link to read these in chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[georgemackayhey]

hi love, first off I wanted to say how much I love your writing! secondly, and idea for a blurb: breaking up with George and meeting him again after a few months/years and maybe going back together? idk I want something angsty

Much love 🤍

Hi nonny dear!!! You're much too kind! Despite having writen something like this before I'm obsessed with the idea so here, have this!

You were together for a while. Long enough to go on holiday with friends but not long enough to meet the parents or anything. During the while you and George had spent the majority of your time together, the thing that weighed so heavily on your bond that it broke, was the time you spent away from each other. With his job, and all the travel, and the way your life had been working out, neither of you had much time for each other.

When George finally got back home, he arrived to the news that he'd been cast in another role that required his presence in an all new country, far from home as ever. And just when you were all eager to tell him about the new path in life you'd been gifted the chance to take. Suddenly all the good news seemed more bitter than sweet. And during the week you and Geogre devoted to spending entirely together, you both slowly came to the realization that that week would be your last. 

It wasn't easy to decide. George kept approaching the subject, but couldn't say the words. You kept pretending to listen but would cast your gaze to the nearest corner, unable to bear the reality of the truth. And finally, after a shared bottle of wine and a long bout of quiet that settled in after the film you were watching faded to black, you cried and called it quits. 

You stayed together that night still, before you gave each other some encouraging parting words, half-heartedly hoping the best for one another. And then you went on your entirely separate ways.

Life was cruel that way. It tore you from the things you thought you wanted more than air. And after a couple of weeks of wallowing in your pity, right when you'd gotten used to being on your own again, you ran into George. He was home for the holidays, out to dinner with his family where you waited to meet friends at the bar. 

It was an utter delight to see him, and he reached to hug you like no time had passed. Just as quickly George introduced you to his folks. You gave them each pleasant and warm greeting before meeting up with your friends at the bar, while his crew shuffled to find a table. 

Back to feeling sorry yourself it was, especially when your friends shot you knowing looks on your walk to meet them as planned. 

Life moved on though. You worked and lived without fighting the flow, and only saw George if a mutual friend dared sneak a snapshot of the fella to post on social media. Years passed just like that. Months of hard work. The occasional tragedy, or miracle throwing you a bit off rhythm. Parties and funerals and holidays and stormy nights.

And then you saw him again. At a resort, in a city neither of you lived in. He shouted your name from across the lobby of a fancy hotel and you abandoned your date to go rushing to George for a hug, his arms already outstretched, welcoming as ever. 

You laughed hard about how you'd ended up in the same place, at the same time, out of all the places and times in the world. And then you floated your separate ways like always. Somehow, beaming and aching in ways you hadn't been before running into the well built, soft-haired guy.

Your date was a little pissed that you'd failed to introduce them to George in the couple of minutes he'd graced you with his presence. You spent that vacation making it up to the date that ended up ghosting you a week after you arrived home.

Life went on like that. Failed dates. Birthdays. Brunch parties, and deadlines. 

And then you saw George again. You'd actually seen him throughout the past year or so, shopping at the same markets, and going out with the same friends. He was always kind, and cared enough to ask after you. 

"You're both absolute idiots." A friend rang, after you'd run into George at the park, and shared a chat before he reluctantly continued his mid-morning run. 

"I'm sorry?" You choked on a small, fauxly offended laugh as you strolled sleepily at your friends side.

"Why don't you just date?" She exasperated. Like the sight of you and George apart personally disgruntled her.

"You know we tried." You pointed. Trying not to let too big a frown pull at your lips. "Isn't it obvious we're better as friends?"

"No." Your friend called back, shooting you a look. She scolded you a bit longer about not letting Geogre get away the next time your paths crossed. You hadn't ever seen it that way. You thought your run ins with George were small bonuses granted on account of your decision to stay apart. You feared approaching the chance of being with him again would only result much like your last and only effort.

And then you saw him again. At that same mutual friend's wedding. The worst occasion. As if you weren't already worked up by the speech your friend had given you, being in the midst of the most romantic setting wasn't going to help you start any kind of conversation with George. 

It was an intimate affair. A backyard ceremony and an in house reception. Foods and wine spread across the roomy, yet quaint ranch style home.

"Here, for you." George was at your side as one slow song faded into another. In his hand, your drink of choice. 

"You didn't have to-" You started to laugh a little at his greeting, an offer you didn’t have reason to refuse.  

"I did actually. It was the last one on the tray and you don't look like you're having any fun. So here." George gently shoved the glass to your chest and lifted his own chute of champagne to toast. You let out a sigh and gave into his very generous demands. 

"How's it you look better every time I see you? Isn't getting older supposed to turn us all grey and sad?" You joked, taking into account Georges tailored suit, the structure of his face, his smile. It hadn't been too long since last you'd seen him across traffic and lifted a hand to wave. But it had been a year or two since last you'd stood close enough to study the loose fit of his tie, and the wave of his hair. 

George rolled his eyes and let his grin grow, before lifting to sip from the drink in his hand. And for a while you stood there like that, trading small talk about life and where it had taken you. And then your dear friend, the bride, the woman of the hour, marched over to meet you and George.

"If anyone dares upstage my wedding, it'd better be you two." She declared, reaching for your wrist, and then George's. "Now get out there and dance together so none of us have to listen to you idiots complain about how you miss each other and wonder what the other one is up to."

You'd barely accounted for the song playing, or the other people pushed close together on the dance floor, as you were flung to join in. Before you could even find your footing, George was pulling you a little closer, out of the way of a great aunt who was only capable of repeating a drunken version of the charleston. 

He placed either of his hands on your waist, as yours found his shoulders, and then you looked right at George, and you realized your friend was right. 

"You still ask everyone how I'm doing?" You wondered in a whisper, peering into George's ocean eyes. He only kept his gaze fixed, and his lip between his teeth, and nodded his head. You were entirely entranced, and one thousand percent at a loss. Where did you turn now? What did you ask? What if what you wanted wasn't the same...

But you didn't have to ask. Because Geogre leaned in, and kissed you like he used too. Like you hadn't stopped sharing kisses since the short time you used too. He held you near, his fingers pressing ever closer. He still smelled like you remembered, so sweet and warm. He still let out a delighted little hum before you parted for air. And George still smiled at you like he used too, like he always did, when you gazed back up to him, unable to hide your blush. 

Maybe no one noticed the pair of you slip out of the party early. Or maybe your friend had been counting on it. Maybe you and George were always meant to be together. Or maybe that time apart wasn't wasted, between all those run in's and hello's throughout the years. Maybe life together would be just as tricky to navigate together as it used to be. But you weren't going to let George get away this time, and he'd promised the same thing, unprompted and often.

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

NEW FIC!!!

Written for the Carry On Quarantine event organized by @xivz​ for the prompt of food delivery. My thanks to @fight-surrender​ and @basic-banshee​ for the beta reads and support!!

Baz is a teacher quarantined at home and Simon is doing temp work delivering food for The Girl and the Goat, a local pub. A craving for a burger leads to Baz ordering from the pub, followed by weeks of mutual pining, the slow burn of a developing relationship thwarted by the physical constraints of social distancing, and a refrigerator full of pub food. Movie nights, exasperated friends, lots of texts, way too much food, and multiple awkward encounters. 

Let My Love Open the Door

Baz

I close my laptop and drop my head down onto it. I’m knackered. The metal feels cool against my forehead. I roll my face from side to side, relishing the smooth chill of it against my cheeks. And then I remember.

Fuck, now I have to disinfect the damn thing.

I’m done. Done for the day but also so done with this.

How can I be expected to effectively teach students—Sixth Form students at that—from a computer terminal? I’m almost three weeks into this, but their looming A Levels and GSCE’s are still on schedule for May.

That’s less than two months away. Five weeks and three days, to be exact.

Thank fuck it’s Friday. I’ll at least have two days to prepare next week’s frightfully inadequate lesson plan.

I grab a disinfecting wipe from the canister and methodically wipe down my laptop. I’m not sick—not a cough, not a sniffle—but I’ve bought into this not touching my face directive and I shouldn’t be smearing my germs on random surfaces. For all I know I could be carrying this thing. One of the asymptomatic Typhoid Marys, spreading it far and wide.

Not that there’s anyone to spread it to, seeing as I’m on my own here, but I wipe the laptop down anyway, unnerved by the whole idea of it.

I’ve washed my hands more in the past month than I have in my entire life. I spent the first day at home wiping down every surface, laundering the bedding, mopping the floors. My house went from having a pleasant, woodsy scent to the overwhelming stench of bleach instead.

It gave me such a headache that I had to open the windows and damn near froze. Bloody coldest March we’ve had in years. April’s not proving to be much better.

My mobile buzzes. I should have left it in the bedroom but I’ve become painfully attached to it.

If I’m not planning out curriculum, video conferencing with my class, answering frantic emails from parents, students, the other teachers at my school, or compulsively cleaning and reorganizing my house, then I’m moodily scrolling through Twitter and Instagram and ratcheting up my anxiety.

I should delete my social media.

My mobile buzzes again.

I glance at my watch. It’s six o’clock.

Bound to be Wellbelove.

Wellbelove: are you done yet?

Wellbelove: Baz!!

Wellbelove: you can’t still be doing classwork it’s after 5

Wellbelove: BAAAAZZZZ

Me: Give it a rest, Wellbelove. Some of us are actually working from home.

Wellbelove: I am working, you poncy bastard I’m obviously far more efficient than you.

Me: Look, some of us can’t just post our morning exercise routine and somehow have that count as work.

Wellbelove: Why are we friends again? Can you remind me why I put up with this slander from you?

Me: Because of my sparkling wit and undeniable charm.

Wellbelove: more like your fashion sense and propensity to pick up the bill when we eat out. Neither of which are in evidence at the moment so I may have to rethink my devotion to you

Me: Still, I’m indispensable.

Wellbelove: then buy me dinner. what are we watching tonight?

This all started at the end of that first week, when Agatha couldn’t concentrate on the book she was trying to read and I’d reached the pulling-my-hair-out state of lesson planning. She suggested we watch a film together—FaceTiming while our Netflix accounts played in sync.

We’ve done that almost every night since. Dinner and a movie, separately, from a distance.

We spend almost as much time arguing over what to watch as we do watching, but that’s just how we are. I’ve known Agatha Wellbelove since we were toddlers at the same crèche when our parents were at uni. Same primary school, same secondary school.

We drifted apart during our uni years, with Agatha at Brighton for phys Ed and Oxford to read for English Language and Literature for me.  

It was some bizarre twist of fate that we were both hired to teach at the same secondary school in Chilham. She was the last person I expected to see on my orientation day.

We picked up where we left off, latching onto each other as we navigated our first real world experience after uni.

It’s been three years now and I think the past three weeks have been the longest stretch we’ve gone without seeing each other since we moved here.

She’s self-centered, brutally straight-forward, horribly short-tempered, dreadfully impatient, and devastatingly gorgeous.

A perfect match for me if I wasn’t so irrevocably gay.

And if she wasn’t . . . well, categorically uninterested in me in that way is probably the best way to phrase it.

But she’s my best friend and I know it hasn’t been all that long but fuck, I miss her.

Wellbelove: WHAT ARE WE WATCHING BAZ ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION

She’d be kicking me in the shin by now, if she were here. Maybe I don’t miss her quite that much.

Ugh, it’s my night to choose. I don’t know what I want to watch. Something soothing, not one of those action films or plucky sports dramas she likes so much. I actually like Bend it Like Beckham but not those sappy American ones she’s inflicted on me.

I need something familiar. Comforting.

Me: Pride and Prejudice.

Wellbelove: 2005. Kiera Knightley. I will accept no substitutes.

Me: The 1995 version is superior.

Wellbelove: Colin Firth doesn’t look like that anymore Baz. Let it go.

I start to type “Keira Knightley doesn’t either” but fucking hell she does still look the same.

Wellbelove: and you owe me dinner

Me: 2005 AND dinner? You are greedy and demanding, Wellbelove. I’ll agree to Knightley. Make your own dinner.

Wellbelove: I want a burger I’m ordering out since you’re being a berk and won’t send me food

Fuck. I’m craving a burger now too.

I don’t even want to think about cooking anything. I’m so sick of pasta, even though I’ve tried to make it a different way each time, with my dwindling pantry supplies. And much as I love the curry place down the road I can’t eat it every day.

I used to think I could. I used to say I’d be happy eating tikka masala every day for the rest of my life, but I was mistaken.

And no more chippies. I can’t do another chippy.

Me: Who’s delivering burgers? Please tell me you aren’t getting McDonald’s.

Wellbelove: why would I get McDonald’s when I can get a lamb burger from The Girl and The Goat?

Me: they’re not still open?

Wellbelove: of course they’re still open you stupid git.

I don’t know why I hadn’t thought to check. Why I assumed the pubs would close down, when they all have kitchens and food service, just like the chippies and fast food places.

Me: why didn’t you bother telling me, you hag?

Wellbelove: You are a grown man Hunter gatherer type you should be able to forage for your own food

I want one of those burgers. We don’t go there all that often but The Girl and The Goat has some of the best burgers in town. Fucking hell, I’m salivating at the thought of it.

Me: Text when you’ve got dinner and we’ll start the movie

Wellbelove: you’re ordering from The Goat aren’t you you hypocrite and not even paying for mine

I close the messenger app to look up The Girl and The Goat online. I scan the menu and then ring them up.

The warm, cheerful voice on the line assures me the order will be delivered to my door within a half hour. I give my mobile number so the driver can text when he arrives.

“Just be looking for the text, love,” the woman’s warm voice continues. “Simon will leave everything at your door, no need to open up until he’s gone. I know how wary people are these days so we’re trying to make it easy.”

A little over a half hour later my mobile buzzes with a message from an unknown number.

Unknown number: Food’s here!

Unknown number: I’ll ring when it’s on your doorstep

The doorbell chimes and I peek at the doorway video display only to startle at the huge grinning face looming on the screen. I push the audio button.

“Yes?”

“Hullo! I’m Simon. I’ve got your order from The Goat. Lamb burger and chips.” He holds up a gloved hand carrying a bag. “I’ll just leave it right here for you.” I get a brief glimpse of a broad back clad in a brown leather jacket as he bends down, before he’s back to grinning at the camera again. “Thanks for ordering from The Goat. We appreciate the business. If you text me back you’ll get a discount for next time!”

“Text you back what?”

He leans in closer and shrugs. “Whatever.”

He’s got brilliant blue eyes. A scattering of freckles dotted across his face.

“Um, right, ok then. Thanks.”

He waves and then he’s out of sight again.

I move to the front window and twitch aside the blinds to watch him get in a blue car with “The Girl and The Goat” displayed across the door in white lettering.

I wait until the car is long gone before opening the door, gloves on, carrying the parcel of food as if it’s radioactive until I reach the kitchen, where I can dispose of the bag and transfer the food to my own dishes.

It’s likely overkill, I know, but I find being wary and methodical helps calm me.

I settle down in front of the television with my meal and my mobile, ready to message Agatha, when I see the text from the unknown number again.

I’d not say no to a discount. I click on it to text back. What exactly does one text to an attractive delivery man?

I shake my head. He’s just the delivery man, it’s irrelevant if he’s attractive or not.

My finger is still hovering over my mobile. I’m having an existential crisis over what to text a delivery man so I can get a discount on a pub meal. These are the depths that I have sunk to with this self-quarantine.

It would help if he were ordinary looking. It really would.

Me to unknown number: Whatever

I hit send before I think too hard about how unoriginal and trite a response that was.

My mobile pings back a moment later.

Unknown number: 15% percent off the next order. Just say Simon said when you call it in! :)

Read the rest at ao3!!!!!!!!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590015

[tacittherapist]

On the subject of ‘Moe’

After a somewhat extended meditation, I’ve ventured into previously uncharted territory: media I abstained from in my youth due to associations with unsavory elements of internet fandom. I dare not share this sort of trite media garbage with anyone sane, so please do continue scrolling if this isn’t something you’re particularly interested in.

The first bit of long-denied text for me is a Japanese animated series called “Lucky Star,” featuring this character who seemed to always represent terminally online villains who thought the Holocaust never happened.

The subject matter of this particular cartoon is... bland. The first half of the entire first episode is devoted to a lengthy discussion about food. Featuring such riveting conversational topics such as:

And just as thought-provoking, controversial answers such as:

However, immediately following this is this incredibly whiplash-inducing scene here:

Which is then immediately glossed over for the second half of the episode, which introduces this first introduction to what I disaffectionately refer to as ‘anime cringe’.

It was at this point I just stopped parsing what was going on within the show. It didn’t matter. What I wanted to know is: what was the purpose of this show? Certainly to sell merchandise, of course. But generally there’s a larger message being broadcast through elements of any fiction, whether implicit or explicit. Even general ‘slice-of-life’ anime tend to be interwoven with politics, themes of human social connections, or broader commentary on (generally Japanese) society.

But as I continued seeing the images and translated dialogue, it occurred to me: this show was made simply to be ‘cute’. The characters do not discuss anything of great import, nor are any of their actions questioned meaningfully by the narrative. In fact, the scenes jump around haphazardly, giving just the slightest frame of reference for chronology or span. And this by itself poses no issue. Things can be made simply for aesthetic purposes -- such is not within the purview of any moral questioning. Rather, my questioning is moreso towards just what the impact this kind of show had on the social narrative being held both online and in-person.

Is there a case to be made about how such simplified and arguably childish depictions of young women made worse the perception of women as a whole? Perhaps, but a weak one. Is there a case to be made about how the titular character being portrayed as a rascally cartoons-and-gaming type made inevitable the fantasized notion of ‘gamer girls’ arose within previous Earth’s online gaming scene? Possibly, but it’s hard to tell whether this was part of the cause or merely a symptom. Should the creator of this show have been held accountable for the deluge of toxic rhetoric eschewing basic decency, championed by misanthropes using Konata Izumi’s face as their online avatars? Likely not, but surely he must have been at least somewhat aware of his role in what followed. But these are not the questions I’m primarily concerned with, given their granular scope.

No, my questioning goes beyond these somewhat shallow ventures. My question is this: was Lucky Star an inevitability within the media culture it was born into? Typically in any era of media, we look towards cornerstones demarcated by “inevitable” works; The Tempest, Frankenstein, Dune, East of Eden -- these texts were “inevitable” in the sense that they were demonstrable reflections of the society that their authors meant to criticize or exemplify. Now, it isn’t my place to say what was or wasn’t “important” to the culture in which I grew up in. After all, the small intersection of socioeconomic, racial, and geographical standing of Rainbow Falls, New York was an infinitesimal part of the larger New York culture (which in itself was an arguably larger part of the broader North American culture, but that’s another essay entirely). Regardless, I feel that a work such as this coming to define any era of broadcast media is perhaps an indicator of... some deep-seated issue prevalent within the ‘modern’ era (read: the era in which I lived before Earth was destroyed).

This issue, I feel, is simply... an end to ‘meaning’, even outside the surreal. What is ‘meaning’? What is ‘perspective’? What is ‘truth’? These questions become obliterated within the scope of the ever-mutating cultural landscape of any geographical locale, and even moreso within the enigmatic landscape of The Internet at large. Any semblance to the surreal is shattered as well, given absurdism’s growing popularity among cultures disillusioned with corporate branding and the concentration of media within the hands of those corporations. I mean, there were car commercials that looked like art films, and art films that looked like car commercials. Ironically (or perhaps, unironically?), a text such as Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff is also an exemplar of that era’s culture as much as Lucky Star was. No one tell Dave I said that, please.

Now, what exactly are the consequences to whatever the answer is regarding this show’s inevitability? Largely none now, given the planet (and much of the culture on it) have been forever destroyed. However, if the answer is indeed yes, we have now a perfect case study in how a seemingly innocuous text may warp an otherwise ailing online culture into something devoid of meaning, symptomatic of greater social maladies. For something like this to make the sort of impact it had in its prime on Earth... conditions would have had to have been incredibly bad for a not insignificant portion of the populace that consumed it. And perhaps, in a new world, such conditions can be avoided. Perhaps, in fact, a media such as this might be able to flourish without the festering cocoon of despair and ennui that made many of its fans so desperate for the morphine of something as meaning-empty and aesthetically simple as Lucky Star in the first place. Perhaps something like this may exist... just to be cute. And that’s all it has to be. And if the answer is no, then perhaps we may dodge a bullet not meant for us anyway.

[spokeanthoughts]

Waking up every day is probably the most underrated blessing that people received from God. It is not as grand as buying a new house or a car, getting a job, or opening a business, that often celebrated with warm smiles and words of appreciation. But, waking up means chances - another chance to fulfill the desires in your heart, to tick the checklist that you have planned for months, to be with your loved ones, and to be just simply beautiful you. Spending the entire day may or may not turn out well, but this is how the magic and beauty of living every day falls into - the possibilities of life.

As I entered the portal of adulthood, I have learned to appreciate simple things like hearing the sound of my alarm clock and feeling the sunlight hitting my face. Though I deeply understand that things may not always go according to plans, but I have always try to live my ordinary student life filled with love, positivity, and productivity. Let me tell you how I spent my entire day today, September 1, 2021.

I started my day unusually early because I want to set my mind on the right track of productivity on the first day of the month. Trust me, I also find it hard to battle off my sleepiness, but I need to wash away my laziness because of many tasks on my plate. I always start my mornings by opening windows and staring a couple of minutes outside. Then, I fixed my bed and did some stretching. I went downstairs to gargle, wash my face, and boil my water to drink. Afterward, I silently sat at the corner and prayed. I usually try not to talk whenever I wake up to keep silence in me; it is my way of calming my heart and easing my anxieties.

When my daily devotion ended, I started to prepare myself to attend online classes - take a bath, brush my teeth, and wear my uniform. I sat in my study area, which I never had before; I allocated a small space in my room to set up my computer, which I used to cope with the demands of academics. 

I remembered that during the first months of my online classes, I tend to procrastinate my tasks with the thinking I have more free time. I also got easily frustrated due to a slow internet connection or sudden power interruption. However, when my tasks started compiling, it was a hard slap on my face that I had to be self-regulated and change my routine. I have learned to focus on the things that I can control - like my time. I used my notebook, post-its, and pen in scheduling my daily tasks. I stopped doing mental task listing because it makes me stressed. Scheduling helped me to see clearly and focus on the things that I have to do.

Then as stated in my schedule, today marked the second day of my field study deployment. I observed the MAPEH & CLE class of grade 6 students. I was exposed to a new learning environment, and I know that this would contribute to my professional growth. I was also inspired by how teachers do their job in this current set-up. After my observations, I ate lunch and washed the dishes. I often do household chores during weekdays, but I usually set my cleaning day every weekend. Then, I took a break by watching videos from YouTube, browsing my social media accounts, and chatting with my friends. Remember, taking a break is necessary, but do not drown yourself in instant gratification. Stop subscribing to the idea of “procrastinate now, cram later.” Been there, done that.

Since it is Wednesday, I only have observation classes, and I allocated my afternoon to answering the activities in my field study workbook and listed my observation notes. I normally try to be productive whenever I have asynchronous classes. When in synchronous class, I always take notes during the discussion to avoid being sleepy.

Afterward, I took a rest when I felt that my neck and back were aching. One thing that I learned in this online class is to value rest time. It does not mean delaying tasks; it is about being kinder to yourself.

I have different forms of rest - sometimes I sleep, watch series, play ukulele, write my thoughts, etc. Today, I slept until 6 pm. I helped to prepare dinner and had a "kumustahan" session with my family. I considered this moment as my favorite part of the day because I treat it as my temporary escape from academic burnout. Sharing and honoring thoughts are important to decipher feelings and feel validated.

After dinner, I prepared myself to sleep, closed the window, and fixed my bed. I always prepare my bed to sleep even if I still do tasks so that when I am sleepy, I will just lay down. I ended my day with a prayer and reflection. Self-reflection is a practice that I apply to myself recently to assess my actions and words; this would help me become a better person.

I usually spend my days as a student like these - doing routines and academics only. It seems that I have a boring life, but the little details such as I got to spend time with my family; I chatted with my friends; I watched a series; I finished a task, makes me feel that I had a good day. Living 24/7 is filled with hundreds of possibilities, but as I have read, “we can’t always control what happens to us, but we can always control how we respond.” I hope that we should always celebrate a morning with a warm smile and strong heart to move forward until the next. Let us all live our lives and not merely exist. Remember that, waking up means chances; “babangon para sa bagong simula.”

[raisingsupergirl]

I'm Back! Returning to the "Real World" After Six Weeks Unplugged and Undrugged

If I'm being honest, I don't really want to write this post. I don't want to go back to the way things were. It feels like returning from vacation on a Sunday evening and setting my work alarm for Monday morning. I know my next vacation won't come for a while. I know I'm "back in it" now. And the sensation is completely opposite of what I'd expected from all of the "restrictions" I put on myself six weeks ago. But I'm sure you're just dying to know how I did, so here goes.

I failed. A lot. Just like I said I would. And the number one thing I failed at was reading to my kids. I tried it. Once. I started Harry Potter, but it felt like pulling teeth. I didn't enjoy it. The kids didn't enjoy it (even though I poured all of my energy into the BEST character voices). But even if I didn't read to my children, at least I didn't fail completely at reading. In fact, I stayed pretty true to my goal of replacing my weeknight TV with reading (with a subtle exception… but I'll get to that later), and it was honestly one of the biggest successes of all. Just an hour or two of quiet entertainment and contemplation in the evenings (whether with a Bible devotional or a bloody space adventure) did wonders for my mood and sleep habits. And speaking of sleep habits…

I failed at that, too. Again, not completely, but I definitely didn't live up to the whole bargain. I don't care how comfortable I got with going to bed at 9:45 pm and waking up at 5:45 am, when I would get home from work at 9:15 at night, there was no way I was going to have time to eat, shower, and wind down enough to be asleep within thirty minutes. And so, I bent the rules a little. But never more than an hour. And that's where I found my rhythm. I would never go to bed or wake up more than an hour different than I did the day before. That compromise allowed me to adjust slowly to different schedules without suffering too much.

Interestingly enough, the things I succeeded at completely are the things that sound like the biggest commitments. I worked out every day without fail, I didn't get on social media or YouTube, and I cut out all drugs (aka alcohol, tobacco, caffeine, night time snacking, and weekday fast food) cold turkey, right down to my morning pre-workout drink, which has a little caffeine in it. I'm not sure exactly why these things were easier to stick to. I'm sure a part of it has to do with my particular personality, but I suspect the bigger part is the nature of these things. They're easier to define. Easier to grasp and control. So what's the big deal about sleeping in a few extra minutes on the weekends (half-asleep rationale is always a little bit skewed…)? Why should I fight to read to my kids if they don't even enjoy it? But exercise and diet are very external. They're obvious to myself and to others when I screw them up. There's more accountability, so they're not as easy to make excuses for. The hardest promises to keep are the ones nobody knows about.

And… there's a third factor, and I hinted at it earlier. Remember when I said I didn't TECHINCALLY stick to the "no TV during the week" goal? Well, I didn't "watch" TV during the week, per se. But that's because I was playing a video game. A video game called "The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild." And, well, I was completely unprepared for it. First, Zelda is my jam. Always has been since I was a wee lad. Like most functioning adults, I fell away from video games after high school because I was trying to make all the monies and didn't have time to spend six hours at a time in front of a screen. But when Santa brought us a Nintendo Switch for Christmas, I knew there was a game I "had" to try. And, well, BotW didn't disappoint. Those who have played Skyrim or other open-world games would have known what they were in for, but I didn't. 

The moment I popped open that glider and drifted off of the Great Plateau, the real world faded away. This game had no limits. No boundaries. It's impossible to describe my awe at that slow and continuing realization as I delved into underground temples, climbed distant peaks, and trudged through vast deserts, so I won't try. Those who think video games are "a waste of time" will never get it, and those who embrace the value of story telling already know what I'm talking about. Suffice it to say that I "did the Zelda things." Not all the things, mind you. I didn't find all the koroks, beat all the shrines, or kill all the lynels, but I DID awaken the Divine Beasts, sneak into the castle dungeon to claim the Hylian shield, tame the royal mare, ride all the animals, build Tarry Town from the ground up, and head butt a guardian to death with the Lord of the Mountain. I trudged through every region and stared out at the realm from the highest spire of Hyrule castle. In the end, I defeated Calamity Ganon and brought peace to the land. And in that triumphant moment, I finally realized the truth about the game…

It was just another drug. You see, I never did have a real urge to sit down to a whiskey and a pile of snacks on a Saturday night, even though that had become an engrained habit over the past year. Why? Because I had an entire world to explore and save! And I needed to stay hydrated and healthy to beat the biggest baddies in Hyrule. The game completely overshadowed other primal urges. Any time I was feeling lazy or weak—times when I would look for a quick, mindless reward—I would pick up the Switch controller. And sometimes, that would be during the week. In fact, all told, I played 110 hours over six weeks. That's around two-and-a-half hours a day, EVERY day! So the amount of time I would have generally wasted with social media, TV, or "drugs," I instead committed to Zelda.

In the end, I'm not sure what to think about the whole six-week experience. I do know that I grew closer to God. My thoughts cleared significantly. I experienced deeper and wider peace, seeing previously scary and stressful situations with new clarity and confidence. I loved my family more completely, and I committed harder to my duties (work, family, etc). But I had low moments, too. Not enough to hit rock bottom or consider giving up, but because I knew what it felt like to ride that "high" with my savior and creator, to be present in the moment with a sense of purpose and appreciation, every moment of minor disconnection or apathy hit me harder than it normally would have. So I guess everything is relative. Once we know just how good we can feel, our expectations rise. On the other hand, my perspective has changed regarding rewards and fulfillment. A moment of earned relaxation or celebration doesn't need to include a glass of wine. I don't "need" to stay up late and sleep in on the weekends. And most importantly, my joy comes from God, not from the things I do, but there ARE some things that keep me away from God's joy. Mostly things that become habit—things I fall back on when I want to "check out."

And I guess that's the whole point. When we're present and intentional, life's good. We're happy with our choices and usually with the results. But when we're exhausted, when we've given all we can and think we've earned some reward (or at least a break)… well, that's when we make mistakes. And that's when we should just go to bed. Sure, maybe a little reading to calm us down and get our minds right first, but we're never at our worst than when we're mentally tapped out. And so, I plan to be more aware of this fact through the rest of the year. I'm going to continue to cut out electronics during the week. I'm going to avoid the Facebook scroll (which doesn't appeal to me even a little bit anymore). I'm going to enjoy sunrises and cuddles. And, most importantly, I'm going to create the time and space for quiet thought and divine whispers.

That's my secret to happiness. Do less (especially less "check out" activities like Twitter and television) and think more. Talk less and listen more. Let your "yes" be "yes" and your "no" be "no." In other words, live a life that speaks for itself and don't feel the need to justify your thoughts and actions to everyone. Live lightly, love deeply, and let the rest wash away with the tide. That's all I've got, friends. And you know what? This post was actually a joy to write. I'm excited to be back, to see my friends again, to share what I've learned with you, and to learn FROM you. And most importantly, I’m excited to enjoy all the beauty that the real world has to offer...

[thelastchair]

Powder Magazine

(Written by Sam Cox - December 28, 2020)

Growing up in Montana, my winter free time was consumed by skiing. Big Sky was the destination when I was barely old enough to walk. Eventually we made the move to Bozeman and Bridger Bowl became my second home. During the early years, my family made the trek to a handful of Warren Miller movies when they were on tour in the fall and Snow Country was the magazine subscription that landed on the coffee table. I was vaguely aware of Jackson Hole, Snowbird and Squaw Valley and my father would occasionally regale me with tales of skiing (read Après) in Germany when he was in the Army. At some level, I already understood that there was something special about Bridger, but realistically, my sphere of outside influence was quite small. Christmas of 1989 turned my entire world upside down. My aunt and uncle are longtime Salt Lake City residents and Brighton skiers. Typically they would send a package each year with the customary cookies, toffee and a card. However, this year they sent two VHS tapes and a magazine - Ski Time, Blizzard of Aahhh’s and a copy of Powder. Things would never be the same for me. Scot Schmidt became my hero, Greg Stump was taking skiing into uncharted territory and above it all, Powder created an eloquent voice for our sport and was the fabric that held things together. Even at my young age, everything that I’d intuitively sensed before was distilled into a potent desire to devote myself to the simple pursuit of being a skier.

Johan Jonsson, Engelberg, Switzerland - Photo: Mattias Fredriksson/POWDER

Powder was founded in Sun Valley by the Moe brothers in 1972 as an annual portfolio of The Other Ski Experience. After several years of running the magazine, Jake and David Moe sold Powder to the owner of Surfer Magazine. A repurposed aircraft hangar in San Juan Capistrano became the new home of skiing’s most prestigious publication. Over time, there was an ebb and flow to the size of staff and cast of characters, each person leaving their unique mark. For decades Powder weathered corporate acquisitions, office relocations and the constant metamorphosis of the ski industry - never losing its voice, Powder remained the benchmark. It was a source of creativity, inspiration and a defacto annal of history. For many it was also a shining beacon, a glimpse into a world filled with deep turns and iconic destinations - even if this world could only be inhabited inside the constructs of your imagination.

My story and the impact Powder had on the direction I would take is hardly unique. The magazine left an indelible impression on countless skiers. When the news broke this fall that operations were being suspended indefinitely, a heartbroken community took to social media to pay homage to the magazine and how it changed their lives and in some cases, careers. This is my version of a tribute and it’s definitely not perfect. In order to gain some perspective, I reached out to former staff members - a collective I admire and respect. It’s an attempt to articulate the essence of Powder, capture its influence on the skiing landscape and give credit to the people who made it come to life. 

Bernie Rosow, Mammoth Mountain, CA - Photo: Christian Pondella/POWDER

HANS LUDWIG - The Jaded Local

“Skiing has always been really tribal and one of the last vestiges of having an oral history. Powder was a unique concept, because they weren’t really concerned with the family market. They were just concerned about being really into skiing. Growing up in Colorado and skiing moguls, my coaches Robert and Roger were featured in the early Greg Stump films. Being in their orbit, I knew a little bit about skiing culture and what was going on out there, but didn’t have the whole picture. The Stump films resonated with me, but Ski/Skiing Magazines didn’t really do it for me. Powder was the door that opened things culturally, it was the only entry point before Blizzard of Aahhh’s.”

“Something that nobody gives Powder credit for, is sponsoring the Greg Stump, TGR and MSP movies and giving them full support right from their inception. It legitimized those companies and helped them become one of the catalysts for change and evolution in skiing. Ultimately this change would have happened, but at a much slower pace without the support of Powder. Getting support from Powder meant they’d weeded out the posers and kooks and what they were backing wasn’t something or someone that was “aspiring” they were a cut above.”

“Powder brought a lot of things into the mainstream, raised awareness and helped to legitimize them: Jean-Marc Boivin, Patrick Vallencant, Pierre Tardivel, telemarking, monoskiing, snowboarding, the JHAF, Chamonix, La Grave, Mikaela Shiffrin, fat skis pre McConkey, skiing in South America….the list goes on.”

“I had some rowdy trips with Powder. Writing “Lost In America,” I went Utah-Montana-Fernie-Banff-Revelstoke via pickup truck, only backcountry skiing and camping in the mud. It was a month plus. I did another month plus in Nevada, which was after back to back Jackson and Silverton. Total time was two plus months. That was fucked up, I was super loose after that whole thing. So many sketchy days with total strangers”

“People forget that Powder was around long before the advent of the fucking pro skier. Starting in 1996, the magazine was in the impact zone of the ski industrial complex. There is limited space for content each season. It was a challenge to balance the pressure coming from the athletes and brands to cover something that was going to make them money vs. staying true to the Moe brothers original intent and profiling an eccentric skier, a unique location or even fucking ski racing.”

Full Circle - Photo: MJ Carroll

KEITH CARLSEN - Editor

“When I was young, Ski/Skiing didn’t do anything for my spirit, but Powder lit me up. It ignited a passion in diehard skiers and gave them a voice and community. It was focused on the counter culture - the type of people who rearrange their lives to ski. This was in direct opposition to other magazines that were targeting rich people, trying to explain technique, sell condos or highlight the amenities at a ski area.”

“Skiing has always been my outlet and mechanism to get away from things in life. My two talents are writing and photography, so I enrolled at Western State with the direct goal of landing an internship at Powder. Even at 19, I had complete focus on the direction I wanted to take. If it didn’t work out, my backup plan was to be a ski bum. 48 hours after graduating, I was headed to southern California to live in my van and start my position at Powder. When the decision was made to close the magazine, it was really personal for me. Powder had provided me direction in life for the last 30 years and I needed some time to process it. In a way, it was almost like going to a funeral for a good friend - even though it’s gone, the magazine lives on in all of us and can never be taken away.”

“It was, and will always remain, one of my life’s greatest honors to serve as the editor-in-chief for Powder Magazine. It was literally a dream that came true. I’m so grateful for everyone who came before me and everyone who served after me. That opportunity opened literally hundreds of doors for me and continues to do so today. I owe the magazine a massive debt of gratitude. Every single editor was a warrior and fought for the title with their lives. They were doing double duty - not only from competition with other publications, but the internal struggle of budget cuts, staff reductions and trying to do more with less. Powder never belonged in the hands of a corporation. The magazine spoke to an impassioned community and never made sense to an accountant or on a ledger.”

Trevor Petersen, Mt. Serratus, BC - Photo: Scott Markewitz/POWDER

SIERRA SHAFER - Editor In Chief

“Powder celebrated everything that is good and pure in skiing. It highlighted the old school, the new and the irreverent. The magazine also called bullshit when they saw it. It was a checkpoint, a cultural barometer and an honest reflection on where skiing has been and where it’s going.”

“My involvement with Powder came completely out of left field. I was never an intern or established in the ski industry. My background was strictly in journalism, I was a skier living in Southern California and editing a newspaper. I knew that I wanted to get the fuck out of LA and Powder was that opportunity. It was a huge shift going from my job and life being completely separate to work becoming my life. Literally overnight, Powder became everything - friends, connections and part of my identity. It derailed my trajectory in the best possible way.”

Brad Holmes, Donner Pass, CA - Photo: Dave Norehad/POWDER

MATT HANSEN - Executive Editor

“Keith Carlsen was a man of ideas, he had tremendous vision and influence. He came up with the ideas for Powder Week and the Powder Awards in 2001. In some respects those two events saved the magazine.”

“Powder was the soul of skiing and kept the vibe, it changed people’s lives and inspired them to move to a ski town. As a writer I always wanted to think it was the stories that did that, but in truth it was the photography. Images of skiing truly became an art form, 100% thanks to Powder Magazine and Dave Reddick. Dave cultivated and mentored photographers, he was always searching for the unpredictable image from around the world and pressed the photographers to look at things from a different angle.”

“It sounds cliche, but writing a feature about Chamonix was the highlight for me. Sitting on the plane, things were absolutely unreal. I linked up with Nate Wallace and the whole experience from start to finish was out of my comfort zone. Ducking ropes to ski overhead pow on the Pas De Chèvre, walking out of the ice tunnel on a deserted Aiguille du Midi right as the clouds parted, late nights in town that were too fuzzy to recall. The energy of the place taught me a lot. I didn’t have a smartphone and there was no Instagram - I had time to write, observe, take notes and be present with who I was and with the experience. As a writer it didn’t get any better.”

“The true gift of working for Powder, was the once in a lifetime adventures that I wish I could have shared with my family, I was so lucky to have had those opportunities. It almost brought tears to me eyes.”

Peter Romaine, Jackson Hole, WY - Photo: Wade McKoy/POWDER

DAVE REDDICK - Director of Photography

“Just ski down there and take a photo of something, for cryin’ out loud!”  “I’ve found that channeling McConkey has been keeping it in perspective. Powder’s been shuttered. That sucks. What doesn’t suck is the good times and the people that have shared the ride thus far and I’m just thankful to be one of them. There’s been some really kind sentiments from friends and colleagues, but this must be said - Every editor (especially the editors), every art director (I’ve driven them nuts), every publisher and sales associate, every photographer, writer, and intern, and all the others behind the scenes who’ve ever contributed their talents get equal share of acknowledgment for carrying the torch that is Powder Mag. There’s hundreds of us! No decision has ever been made in a vacuum. Always a collective. At our best, we’ve been a reflection of skiers everywhere and of one of the greatest experiences in the world. It’s that community, and that feeling, that is Powder. I’m not sure what’s next and I’m not afraid of change but”  “There’s something really cool about being scared. I don’t know what!”

Scot Schmidt, Alaska - Photo: Chris Noble/POWDER

DEREK TAYLOR - Editor 

“Powder was the first magazine dedicated to the experience and not trying to teach people how to ski. It was enthusiast media focused on the soul and culture. It’s also important to highlight the impact Powder had outside of skiing - today you have the Surfer’s Journal effect where every sport wants that type of publication. However, prior to their inception, everybody wanted a version of Powder.”

“Neil Stebbins and Steve Casimiro deserve a lot of credit for the magazine retaining its voice and staying true to the core group of skiers it represented.”

“Keith Carlsen is responsible for the idea behind Super Park. This was a time when skiing had just gone through a stale phase. There was a newfound energy in park skiing and younger generations, this event helped to rebrand Powder and solidify its goal of being all inclusive. Racing, powder, park, touring - it’s all just skiing.”

Joe Sagona, Mt. Baldy, CA - Photo: Dave Reddick/POWDER

JOHNNY STIFTER - Editor In Chief

“What did Powder mean to me... Well, everything. As a reader and staffer, it inspired me and made me laugh. I learned about local cultures that felt far away and learned about far away cultures that didn’t feel foreign, if that makes sense.”

“But I cherished those late nights the most, making magazines with the small staff. Despite the deadline stress, I always felt so grateful to be working for this sacred institution and writing and editing for true skiers. We all just had so much damn fun. And it didn’t hurt meeting such passionate locals at hallowed places, like Aspen and Austria, that I once dreamed of visiting and skiing. The Powder culture is so inclusive and so fun, I never felt more alive.”

Doug Coombs, All Hail The King - Photo: Ace Kvale/POWDER

HEATHER HANSMAN - Online Editor

“Powder is a lifestyle and an interconnected circle of people. It’s about getting a job offer at Alta, opening your home to random strangers, locking your keys in your car and getting rescued by a friend you made on a trip years ago. Through the selfish activity of skiing, you can create a community of people you cherish and can depend on through highs and lows.”

Ashley Otte, Mike Wiegele Heli, BC - Photo: Dave Reddick/POWDER

The contributions of so many talented individuals made the magazine possible. I would like to express my sincere gratitude to everyone who shared their experience at Powder with me. Also, I want to thank Porter Fox and David Page for crafting inspiring feature stories that I enjoyed immensely over the years.

After the reality set in that the final issue had arrived, a void was created for generations of skiers. I’ve been focused on being thankful for what we had, rather than sad it’s gone. It’s a challenging time for print media and I wholeheartedly advocate supporting the remaining titles in anyway you can. In a culture driven by a voracious appetite for mass media consumption and instant gratification - I cherish the ritual of waiting for a magazine to arrive, appreciating the effort that went into creating the content and being able to have that physical substance in my hand. Thanks for everything Powder, you are missed, but your spirit lives on.  

Captain Powder - Photo: Gary Bigham/POWDER