#we've reached the 10 minute mark of the movie

[janice-christ]

Some Answers To Your Questions (Transcribed by Janice's Daughter Naomi)

May 7, 2024

Hi all,

This is Janice's daughter Naomi again. We've been getting a lot of questions from some curious new followers and thought we'd just compile them all here in one post. Mom tends to veer off topic when she gets going so I'm here to transcribe the important bits and leave out the rest.

Q&A

Q: Can you tell us more about your alien abduction?

A: 1997 - October 14th. Matthew Mark Luke John and I were in a brief period of separation and I was home alone with Naomi. I'd just put her to bed around 7 o'clock and walked outside to have a cigarette (Camel blues - and while we're on the subject, why don't they allow smoking indoors anymore? We used to be able to light up an honest to god Pall Mall in the middle of Catholic Mass back in the 70s) [note from Naomi: this rant went on for 13 solid minutes before I got her back on track]. Anyway, I walked out to stand on the front porch and I passed out. Next thing I know, I'm getting strapped up and suspended from the ceiling, high in the air with my belly down and gooch out. I couldn't see anything but the floor at least 10 feet beneath me. There were probably nine or ten little guys looking up at me from below like town perverts waiting for an upskirt shot. Ugly little fuckers. You could see through their skin to their organs. I'm pretty sure the one who strapped me up was the leader because he had a hat. Then suddenly the lights went dark and I screamed - and that's when I heard three other screams. Definitely human. I have no idea who they were or where they are now and it tortures me twenty four hours out the goddamned day. Then I felt a big ol' gust of pressure and I was transported to some sort of void. Black all around me. A few seconds later the Hat Guy wheeled a TV in front of me and turned it on. For the next 3 hours and 15 minutes, the screen played James Cameron's "Titanic", which I found very odd as the movie wasn't due to release on Earth until December. As soon as the credits rolled I woke up in my bed as if nothing happened. I almost thought it was a dream until I dug into my morning bowl of cottage cheese and tasted sulfur as if my entire mouth was painted with the stuff. Now anything I orally consume tastes like that. I have to get my nutrients through a DIY feeding tube I engineered in '98. Patent still pending but I hold on to hope.

Q: You don't seem too worried about your missing husband, but your daughter Naomi does. Why?

A: I don't know - you'll have to ask Naomi why she cares so goddamned much [note from Naomi: he's my dad]

Q: Your bit isn't funny

A: Is this some type of internet explorer slang?

Q: Why do you hate your 4 year old grandson so much? Do you hate kids?

A: I love children! Zachary is not a child. He is a government drone. [note from Naomi: We're working on this relationship]

Q: If you could find the other victims from the night of your abduction, what would you ask them?

A: Oh, too many questions to name! But to start I'd ask if they also watched Titanic or if they got a different film like Boogie Nights or Good Will Hunting.

Q: You say you're single and looking - what kind of partner are you looking for?

A: Anyone who can slap my ass and ride a hog, honey (MUST be willing to assist in twice-daily tadpole experiments)

[note from Naomi: please do not indulge her in this, I am begging you]

---

That's all for now, folks.

Once again, my father is still missing. Last seen wearing a tweed suit in Atlanta, Georgia six months ago, black toupee, 5'3", ~230lbs, walks with a slight limp, favoring his left side. His full name is Matthew Mark Luke John Christ.

Please, PLEASE reach out if you have any information whatsoever on his whereabouts. As Mom said before, there are no known photographs of him as he is staunchly against photography as a concept and industry. If it helps, he looks a little bit like John Goodman if John Goodman was 5'3" with a black toupee and a limp.

Maybe we'll do another one of these if we get some more questions in bulk - Zachary and I are moving in with Mom to help her out until Dad comes back so things are a little chaotic here as you can imagine. Until then, please spread the word about my father if you can.

-Naomi

AND janice xx

[air--so--sweet]

How to Speedrun Bury Your Gays aka That Time Legion Killed All Its Queer Characters In 20 Minutes

Well, 20 minutes 30 seconds to be exact...

First up at the episode's beginning, we have Daniel, who doesn't actually die, but I'd argue having your memory erased with no possibility of regaining it is comparable to death.

But hey he was a two dimensional character who existed solely to have effects on his husband, Clark's, storylines, firstly to humanise him when Daniel was introduced in Chapter 8 and then to add weight to Clark and David's exchange in this episode, Chapter 24. Oh and he also appeared in chapter 20 to remind us he existed since he hadn't been seen or spoken about once since he first appeared. So, not a great loss, right? I didn't even know his name, I had to google it for this post. Not a big deal when he was practically created to die...wait...

So at the 3 minutes 48 seconds mark our first gay has been buried. Record time and we've barely broken a sweat.

Next up we have Lenny and this one is trickier. She's a more developed character with her own agency and who has purpose beyond being a glorified prop. That purpose has been a bit harder to nail down this season but she had some growth in the last episode, choosing to feel the loss of her daughter rather than let David take the pain away or suppressing it with drugs (which feels like it would have been her MO pre David). It also seems she's reached her limit and is no longer willing to blindly follow David and allow him to- oh no, never mind, she's stabbed herself in the neck. I guess it kind of fits with her motivations, since she states to David that he can't have her, prior to stabbing herself. Would it have been more interesting and satisfying narratively if she chose to work with Division 3 to take David down instead? Or decided to try get revenge on Farouk for what he did to her on her own terms, which would also have the benefit of at someone finally trying to hold Farouk accountable for the monstrous things he did? Or even just have Lenny decide she doesn't have a horse in this race since she was drafted against her will and she's going to ride of into the sunset to do her own thing? (this is one hell of a mixed metaphor, I impress myself) Sure...but here she gets to have her last words be a call back to a memory she shared with David...except actually that was a false memory altered by Farouk to hide his presence in David's mind and he and Lenny never had a 'Why is it blue?' exchange in real life nor did she witness said false memory. Love the writer's cared enough about her arc to remember this accurately. And so dies maybe the best role Aubrey Plaza has ever had.

We've now hit the 10:42 mark so slowing down but still keeping a decent pace (sidenote: I remembered Lenny's girlfriend Salmon when writing this, a character who was maybe even less developed than Daniel, and wondered what happened her. We saw her giving birth in the previous episode and then she wasn't present for the rest of her daughter's abridged life courtesy of the time eaters which...actually implies she died in childbirth which is incredibly grim...I don't think it was an intentional implication but it's there nonetheless).

And last, but certainly not least we have Mr Clark DeBussy. Did I know his surname without googling it? Absolutely not. Have the writers ever figured out how to use his character post season one? Absolutely not. Though I did enjoy his one girl talk scene over tea with Syd.

To be fair, I do quite enjoy the scene leading up to his death. While a manufactured scenario, the home movies he's watching of his husband and son do add a melancholy to this scene and I love the visual when he turns to face David that leads to those images being projected onto his face. Teamed with his resigned yet angry delivery of 'I should have killed you the first time we met', David's sad smile as he agrees and Jeff Russo's always beautiful score it is just perfect. And then Clark is grabbed by one of David's cult members and thrown out the air lock and, as we hit 20 minutes and 30 seconds, our final gay is buried...well floating in the depths of space but same thing. There's excellent use of the family video projections again as they briefly overlay the scene of his expulsion from the airship and...it's just occurred to me since going to space in no way impeded David's attack, and Farouk could have gotten pissy with Division 3 for being cowards even if they hadn't started orbiting the earth....did we go to space just for this visual The style over substance of Legion is an ongoing issue but this time I might just accept it, it's a lovely shot.

And thus ends Legion's queer cast's run. There is a further 21 minutes and 40 seconds in this episode in which Syd loses her mind and Kerry looked like she was about to lose a fight and I thought 'Okay actually this is just an episode where characters are going to die, it's coincidence the first three were gay' but then Kerry actually survived and, after a brief second childhood in the astral plane with Melanie and Oliver, Syd gets her mind back...so actually the only people who stayed dead/memory wiped were queer.

I don't know how to to end this. Maybe with the advise to write decent queer representation and don't bury them or at least not all in one fell swoop only taking up half an episode? I wrote a joke about Clark's son not having a name but googled it to doublecheck and he does...it's Buster...Buster DeBussy...Clark was underdeveloped but I refuse to believe he would give his child a name tha sounds like a side character in a video game. He was better than that

[lostinmirkwood]

Iambic Pentameter

Catch up from the beginning. Read Chapter 2.

She’s Got The Look

Arya glared down at her notebook, blank except for the pen doodles in the margins. She would love her final period Literature class if only Mr. Dondarrion would let them read something written by someone other than old, dead, white men. Who decided that Steffon Fossoway had more literary value than Nymeria Ny Sar? Nymeria was a Rhoynish rebel during the Valyrian uprisings and her writings reflected the plight of her people as they fled across the Sunset Sea to Dorne. Fossoway just wanted to relive his “glory days” of war through stilted sentence structure and pretentious metaphors about sunlight. This wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she’d petitioned Mr. Dondarrion to allow her to take the senior level class as a junior.

She would also love this class even more if there was a seating arrangement that didn’t have Joffrey Baratheon sitting directly behind her. He kept knocking his foot against her chair leg and she was going to lose it on the little snot-nosed southern princeling if he didn’t knock it off soon. She didn’t care that their fathers were best friends, that his grandfather was on the Small Council, and his mother was THE King’s Landing socialite, he was a prick. One who seemed to know just how to push her buttons. If she could keep a lid on her frustration that would be a small victory for her.

Arya tuned back in to the lecture just as one of her classmates was lavishing praise on Fossoway, “His prose is so romantic,” Marella Rosby was gushing.

Arya scoffed audibly, “Romantic? Fossoway? He was a misogynistic alcoholic who spent most of his life trying to shag Aerion Targaryen’s leftovers.”

From behind her Joffrey cut in, “As opposed to a bitter, self-righteous twit who has no friends?”

Arya rolled her eyes. She could see Mr. Dondarrion sigh when she carried on as though she hadn’t heard Joffrey, “I guess in our society being a male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time, Baratheon ,” she could hear his snicker. “What about Argella Durrandon, or Elissa Farman, or Nymeria Ny Sar? Why can’t we read something from-”

The classroom door swung open, cutting her off. The half of the class that wasn’t already facing Arya, and unintentionally the door, to watch her soapbox turned as one to see who was there. Standing in the doorway was Gendry Waters, his unruly black hair falling over his high forehead into his bright blue eyes, scruff decorating his sharp jawline, and the other reason Arya couldn’t enjoy her Literature class. When he even bothered to show up to class he always sat brooding in the back corner smelling faintly of cigarette smoke. He never participated in discussions, she never saw him turn in work, and when it was time for partnered essay editing she always seemed to get stuck with him. He’d flip through the first few pages of her draft before sliding it back to her with a wink and nary a word or a pen mark before slipping out of the classroom as soon as Mr. Dondarrion’s back was turned. It was infuriating.

“What did I miss?” His school bag was hanging haphazardly over his shoulder as he leaned against the door frame, everyone’s attention now firmly on him.

Arya rolled her eyes, and turned back towards the front of the classroom, “Just the oppressive, patriarchal values that dictate our education.”

“Cool,” with a crash the door swung shut behind him as her annoyance returned to whatever it was he did when he wasn’t sitting in Junior Literature, ignoring her essays and winking those blue eyes at her.

Mr. Dondarrion sighed again, his head in his hands. “Miss Stark, thank you for sharing your opinion on Steffon Fossoway and our curriculum. You’re dismissed.”

Arya’s jaw dropped, she hadn’t done anything today to warrant this, “But, Mr. Dondarrion!”

“Dismissed, Miss Stark.”

With a huff, Arya slapped her notebook closed and stood. She made sure to clip Joffrey’s shoulder with her elbow as she stepped past him, fuming, into the hall.

---

Miss Tarth raised a pale eyebrow as Arya swept into the Main Office. “Mr. Dondarrion, again?” she asked, knowingly. Arya nodded before pointing at Ms. Smallwood’s open door with a cocked eyebrow of her own. Miss Tarth sighed and gestured for Arya to enter the guidance counselor’s office. Ms. Smallwood was typing away at her computer talking under her breath as Arya stood in the doorway. Suddenly her head shot up and she shouted, “Brienne! What’s another word for ‘engorged’?”

Arya turned back to look at the secretary. Miss Tarth was staring at the ceiling with a long suffering expression and a slight blush before she replied, “I’ll look it up.”

Arya stepped all the way into the counselor’s office, closing the door behind her, “Turgid?”

Ms. Smallwood cocked her head to the side and thought for a moment. “Perfect!” she chirped before making a few keystrokes and waving Arya into the plain wooden chair in front of her desk. “So, I hear you were terrorizing Mr. Dondarrion’s Literature class again.”

Arya frowned as she sat, “Expressing my opinion is not a terrorist action.”

Ms. Smallwood looked up from her computer and adjusted her spectacles, “The way you expressed your opinion to Elmar Frey? By the way, his testicle retrieval operation went well, if you’re interested.”

Arya faked a concerned smile, “Good for him. I still maintain that he kicked himself in the balls.”

Ms. Smallwood sighed, “The point is Arya, people find you a bit…”

“Tempestuous?” Arya supplied.

“Bitch from the Seventh Hell is the term used most often. You might want to work on that.” With that the older woman gave a firm nod and turned back to her computer screen.

Arya stared at Ms. Smallwood for a moment before standing to leave, obviously dismissed, “As always, thank you for your excellent guidance. I’ll let you get back to Aegon’s quivering member.”

The door swung shut behind her and Arya heard Ms. Smallwood mumble, “‘Quivering member’, I like that. I’m going to use that,” as the frantic typing resumed.

---

The day finally ended and Pod found himself back in the main courtyard with Hot Pie again. Hot Pie was going on about some hostile take-over in the KLP Baking Club that had his croissants branded “store-bought” much to his offense and dismay. Pod nodded along vaguely as he scanned the courtyard for shining copper hair, straightening slightly when Sansa Stark finally made her appearance. He wasn’t the only one who noticed her arrival though, sprawled on a low wall near them was a small group of guys ringed around a smug-looking blond who was clearly their leader. One of the boys nudged the blond as Sansa approached with the same friend from that morning. Both Sansa and the blond made eye contact as the girls walked by, Sansa smiling shyly and tossing her hair as they went. Just as they passed the blond called out, “Looking good ladies.”

Both girls glanced back briefly as he gave them an appreciative once over before they continued on through the courtyard, giggling as they made their way towards the parking lot. Pod felt nearly invisible as Sansa and her friend passed by him and Hot Pie without so much as a glance in their direction. He sighed quietly and turned back towards Hot Pie who was shaking his head slightly at Pod’s reaction.

Before either of them could speak they heard one of the boys in the circle around the blond say, “She’s out of reach even for you, Joff.”

The blond scoffed, “No one’s out of reach for me.”

“Want to put money on that?” the other boy replied.

“Money I’ve got. This I’ll do for fun.” Joff sneered.

Pod huffed in disgust and it was Hot Pie’s turn to sigh. Slinging an arm around Pod’s shoulders he turned them away from the other boys, “That, my friend, is Joffrey Lannister. Richest asshole at KLP, don’t mess with him. Rumor has it he once had a kid expelled for taking the last energy drink out of the vending machine right before he got there. He’s a model too.”

“Wait, he’s a model?” Pod laughed.

“Mostly regional stuff, but word on campus is he’s got a big tube sock ad coming up.”

“Really?” both boys snickered before Pod looked back towards Sansa who had paused with her friend at the edge of the courtyard, “Man, look at her. Is she always so-”

“Vapid?” Hot Pie commented.

“How can you say that! She’s-”

“Totally conceited,” Hot Pie deadpanned.

“No! There’s more to her than you think. Just look at her. There’s something in her eyes. She’s totally pure. You’re missing what’s there!” Pod exclaimed quietly, aware that his voice could carry through the crowd if he wasn’t careful. He wanted to woo Sansa, not have her start off thinking he was a creep.

“No Pod,” Hot Pie sighed, “What’s there is a haughty little princess wearing a strategic sundress that makes guys like us realize we can never touch her. And guys like Joffrey realize they want to. Put her in your spank bank and move on, man.”

“No, no. You’re wrong about her. Well,” he paused for a moment, “maybe not about the last bit but the rest, you’re wrong.”

“Oh I’m wrong?” Pie smirked slightly, “You know, she’s actually looking for a Volanti tutor.”

“That’s perfect!”

“You speak Volanti?” Hot Pie questioned, looking surprised that Pod had jumped on his suggestion so quickly.

“Uh, no. But I will!” Surely it couldn’t be that hard. They could learn it together if he could just stay a lesson or two ahead. He’d just moved here, no one needed to know he’d taken two, broken up, years of Braavosi. The root language was the same, he could fake it, right?

[taboo-truths]

Yummy: Justin Bieber VS Julian Assange.

Not gonna lie... I'm pissed-off. Justin Bieber's Seasons trailer has raked-in 1.9 million views in roughly 10 hours. That's 1.9 million people who's immediately clicked to hear the woes of what it is to be a multi-millionaire Pop Star that'd become a "shell of himself" and how "no-one's ever grown-up, in the history of humanity, like Justin Bieber."

Now, before the self-described "beliebers" defensively jump down my throat-- the very same people that drove Bieber crazy by turning a 13-year-old boy into a God in the first place--realize I'm not picking on Justin Bieber. In many ways, I'm an ally of Bieber's in realizing the cultural retardation we exhibit in diefying a fellow human being who's greatest contribution to humanity has been a list of R&B hits with titles like "Yummy".

We're citizen sovereigns begging for Kings and Queens, even if they're just Pop Stars. Think about that.

Nah. I'm not pissed-off at Justin Bieber. I am pissed-off at the fact that 1.9 million people will tune-in to a COMMERCIAL, when not even a scrap of that amount will tune-in to hear about the systematic torture and false imprisonment of a journalist that has revealed war crimes.

As I write these words, there's a widespread and full-scale assault on journalism and journalists. Julian Assange is literally rotting in a maximum security prison on NO charge in a so-called "free" and "democratic" country, yet so many of us are so far up Justin Bieber's "Yummy" ass that we do not see the not-so-dreamy reality that free press and free speech are being attacked.

So, Yeah. I got a bit of a problem with that.

This corrupt and tyrannical system USES people, like Justin Bieber, to draw focused attention away from things that truly matter and impact our lives. Meanwhile, to not stand-up for Julian Assange is to not stand-up for oneself in a battle for free press and free speech that many don't even realize has began.

The late and great John Lennon would've had a concert for Julian Assange, much like Pink Floyd's Roger Waters has done, in front of Britain's Belmarsh prison. There was a time when great artists used their power wisely, because they knew how they could be used as a distraction from things that really mattered.

There was a time when Pop and Rock Stars refused to allow themselves to be used in that way, and instead brought attention to important issues. Now, Pop Stars just wear the "War is Over" t-shirt, rub their crotch in some freedom anthem (Miley Cyrus), and totally ignore a journalist being tortured in a maximum security prison.

Latest reports have indicated Assange is being drugged as a once articulate man now struggles to find his words. He's barely allowed visitors and/or phone calls and remains locked-down in solitairy confinement while his largely harrassed family BEGS for help.

From September, 2010 to this very day, on the eve of 2020, Assange's entire case has been a total rape of justice. It's 7 minutes till midnight on New Year's Eve, and I'm choosing to write about this while I still have a freedom that's dying. This is my New Year's resolution... fight for what's right before what's right totally disappears in an Orwellian fog created by Big Brother lovers.

We wonder why we've been in 18 years of wars on lies? Could it possibly be because WE, the people, have lost our minds in what's "Yummy" vs what actually matters?

Here's the deal... I'm really not picking on Justin Bieber as my heart does go out to the guy. We live in a society of navigated focus which, through no fault of his, constant focus is directed upon him and stars like him. This mechanism robs the music from the artist and makes the artist the focus. That could drive the best of us insane and become extremely depressing. No-one wants to live in a fish bowl... not even fish.

How does a 13-year-old boy even begin to comprehend a world driven to idolize him so much so that whatever potato chips he chose to eat was more significant to millions of people than far more newsworthy and disastrous events that we have the power to change if we would just come into our own power?

It's not Justin Bieber that's fucked-up. It's us. We are! We throw all our energy and power into what shoes, what clothes, what hairstyle, and what love does Justin Bieber (or the like) have? It's marketing on top of marketing on top of marketing, and young guys, like Bieber, who don't know any better and just want to build a life doing something they love become the tool of this system to sell the people and distract us from our power. Bieber doesn't know that. I think he's learning and growing and slowly figuring that out.

Like John Lennon, who reached the height of success as Beatle, Bieber realized it's all hollow. You got the money. You got the fame and the fans. You got the beautiful girlfriend (wife in John Lennon's case), you've done everything this system says you need to do to be successful and it says, "Success is happiness!" But ya get there, and ya realize it's superficial...it's nothing.

And then, ya think there's something wrong with you for not being happy when ya have it all. After all, you've done it! You've checked all the marks this system gives us to be successful. So something has to be wrong with you cause you're not happy when you should be.

I get that, ya know? So, I don't blame Bieber so much as I'm using him as an example of how we've all gone astray from what matters. Millions of innocent people are dying and have died in wars on lies, and the American people are supposed to be the government.

But we govern nothing for reasons of getting lost in Justin Bieber as if he's our favorite character in a movie. He's a human being with a real life just trying to figure it out. And we need to be focused on our lives and our responsibilities as the governing body of these United States.

We can't govern anything, if we don't have a free press and free speech. We can't govern what we don't even know is happening. This is what makes what's happening to Julian Assange so critical. He told us about war crimes that we were meant to hold our elected representation to account for committing in our names, with the lives of our sons and daughters, and our money.

But this system diverts our attention away from that. It makes it boring. It drowns it out and censors it, then props up flashy drama of no-drama on Instagram between Hailey Bieber and Selena Gomez. Ultimately, that shit is none of our business, and maybe that was the problem with Justin and Selena in the first place... we all knew a little too much in a "story" that wasn't ours to write in our team "Jelena" sport made of real lives.

We have to stop allowing this system to distract us from what's important. Lives are being lost. Journalism is dying in a maximum security prison while we all anxiously await some "Yummy" seasons. I'm not telling ya to tune-out Justin Bieber. I'm pleading with you to tune-in to Julian Assange and your own rights to know, lead, and govern. I'm begging you to come into your personal empowerment to affect positive change.