#which were not explicity discussed

[paganimagevault]

Four images of Thor 'The Wind Raiser' 8th-11th C. CE.

"Perkins provides numerous written examples of Norse sailors attempting to conjure up wind magic, often through the invocation of the God Thor, who is charged with special responsibility for the weather. Perkins relies on a detailed explication of a passage from the little known Icelandic þáttr (tale) to argue that, as with his better-known hammer-wielding influence over thunder, the God's control of the wind is instrumental. Perkins interprets the terms skeggrödd and skeggraust (each meaning 'beard-voice') as the act of Thor blowing out the wind. The central argument of this work is that the Eyrarland image is a plastic representation of Thor carrying out this process, using his beard in the manner of a wind instrument. Perkins is an accomplished philologist and his reading of the passage is convincing. However it is a limitation that the text is provided only in Old Norse, though passages in Latin and Russian are translated. Old Norse texts will continue to be marginalized in medieval studies if they are not made accessible to those outside the rather narrow discipline of Norse studies. An engaging and technical discussion of Scandinavian artefacts and texts will always find an audience there but other scholars are prevented from fully appreciating this argument if they cannot understand the critical texts. The argument that Thor was visualized as blowing out the wind, and that he was invoked to influence the wind leads to the conclusion that the Eyrarland image and other similar artefacts can be identified as amulets carried by those, presumably sailors, who most wanted to control the wind. Perkins briefly mentions a strikingly similar image to the Eyrarland image, the bronze Rällinge image. As this small figure is in rather an excited condition, he is usually identified with the fertility God Freyr, an identification with which Perkins concurs. However the Rällinge image too is stroking his beard, in the gesture which Perkins repeatedly characterizes as Thor's wind-raising ritual. Frustratingly, this parallel is not explored. The remaining sections of the book follow this conclusion into archaeological territory. Perkins focuses specifically on four small figures, including the Eyrarland image. The figurines were found as far apart as Iceland and the Ukraine, and made from media ranging from carved amber to cast bronze but Perkins identifies in them distinctive characteristics which, he argues, type them all as representative of Thor in his wind-raising capacity. These symbolic qualities range from the general observation that they tend to have the glaring eyes and muscular physique appropriate for textual accounts of the 'bruiser' God (p. 70), to the very specific feature that each of them appears to be holding his beard like a wind instrument and blowing into it."

-Thor the Wind-Raiser and the Eyrarland Image (review) by Katrina Burge, University of Melbourne 2005. The 3 bottom images are from the GermanicMythology website.

[c0eu4]

OP81 | Babies ♡

Summary: Oscar is looking for y/n around the paddock but can't find her until he saw her with Lando's niece.

Warning: smut, oral (f m receiving)

A/N: It was a need for me to start this little 'story'.

MASTERLIST requests are open

He walks around the McLaren premises, looking for y/n. But it seems that she is wanted and that she is nowhere to be found. Even though he sends her messages, she doesn't seem to want to answer it.

He continues to look for her, even going to Lando's driver's room. But she is still nowhere to be found. As he begins to despair but above all to worry, he hears the sound of her voice, laughing.

He walks towards the noises he hears and finally finds y/n, in the break room of the premises, Lando's niece on her lap.

Lando and his sister are not far away, talking. Oscar doesn't dare approach y/n, afraid of disturbing her. He looked at her, his arms crossed but a smile on his lips.

Oscar has a secret. Deep down, for several months he has wanted to see her with a round belly, carrying his child inside her. He never dared to tell her about it. Because he didn't think it was urgent at the moment. But seeing her with the little one was like a click. He needed to talk to her about it. He needed to know if she were okay and ready for this.

Lando notices Oscar's smile. And of course he understands right away. He calls him to join him, which Oscar does. Y/n looks up at him, taking the little one in her arms and joining in on the discussion.

The four of them talk while the little one plays with her hair. Cisca looks at her daughter, then at y/n how seems to enjoy her. She looks at Oscar, who is looking at the little one that plays with y/n's hair, probably imagining that it's his own daughter in her arms.

Quickly, the boys have to get in their car for fp2. Cisca and y/n find themselves in the McLaren garages, watching the cars passing in front of their eyes.

''Have you ever thought of having a baby?'' Y/n look at Cisca, a bit surprised.

''Why are you asking me that?'' She answers, the little one who's now playing with her fingers.

''C'mon, don't tell me you don't want a baby.'' She giggles as her daughter bites y/n's fingers.

''Uhm well, we never talked about it with Osc.'' Cisca looks at her, a big smile on her face.

''You should talk about it. You didn't see his gaze on you? It's obvious that he wants a baby with you.''

Y/n found herself blushing just at the thought of having a baby with Oscar.

''Maybe we should..'' Cisca feels proud of herself for being able to give her some ideas...

🏎️_ _ _ _ _

Once Oscar and y/n are in the car to go back to their hotel room, Oscar starts the discussion directly.

''We should make a baby.'' He simply said, without any emotion or explication.

''I was thinking the same.'' Oscar giggles.

''We've lived together for too long, our minds are connected now.'' He drives a little faster than usual, probably in a hurry for the night that awaits them.

''More seriously, do you think you're ready for it?'' He looks at her for a few seconds but quickly goes back to look at the road.

''I think so. And you ?'' He didn't waste any second to answer her.

''I'm more than ready.'' He finds himself blushing at the question he wants to ask.

''Uhm but, how do we do ?'' She chuckles at his asking.

''You really want me to explain how we can make a baby ?'' He chuckles too.

''Of course no. But you're using a birth control pill, no?'' He parked the car in the underground parking lot.

''Yeah, I just have to stop taking it and we can try.'' She smiles at him. He kissed her soft lips and got out of the car. Once she's too, he takes her hand.

''So if we try tonight, we can have a baby?''

He called the elevator and entered it with her.

''No I don't think so. Plus, I'm not in my fertility period.'' He looks a bit disappointed by her revelation.

''So when are you going to be pregnant?'' She chuckles at his impatience.

''I don't know Osc. For the moment, I'll stop my pill and we'll see. Ok?'' The elevator opens and they walk in the corridor, looking for their hotel room.

She opens the door with her card and enters the little room. Oscar quickly follows her and closes the door behind him. She takes off her shoes and her jacket, puts her bag on the ground while Oscar does the same thing.

He quickly ran his hand to her hips moving her to the bed.

''But I want a baby now..'' He whispered to her ear in a childish voice. His whisper sends shiver down her spine.

She turns around to face him and kisses him passionately. He bites her lower lips and she whines softly, giving him the opportunity to enter his tongue in her mouth. He explores her inner cheeks, until he can't catch his breath.

He separated from her, running his lips to her neck, kissing it with his warm and soft lips. He continues to move her backwards until her legs meet the bed and she falls onto the mattress gently.

He goes on her top, tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear.

''Is it a green one ?'' She doesn't answer right away. She looks up, as if she was thinking.

She makes herself desired.

''mhh... it's a green one.'' He wastes no more time kissing her neck and leaving a few reddish marks there.

She tilts her head to the side to give him more space, her hands wandering under his t-shirt.

Before she does, he removes his t-shirt as his kisses trail down her collarbone. He takes off her t-shirt and nibbles on the skin of her stomach.

The caresses of his hands move down her hips, removing the button of her jeans. He takes off her jeans, leaving her in underwear in front of him. This is of course not the first time he has seen her like this. But he will never tire of this view.

He kisses her thighs as her body already begins to respond a little more, wriggling and moaning.

She strokes his hair as he spreads her legs, kissing her inner thighs.

''Mhh Oscar..Please..'' She begged him to go further, to touch her bundle of nerves. One of his hands that was on her thigh leaves it to tickle her clit through her panties.

''Be patient pretty girl..'' She responds with a slightly louder moan and a sudden movement of her hips.

Oscar himself can't wait any longer. He takes off her panties and places her leg on his shoulder, already teasing her clit a little more with his tongue. She squirms with pleasure, unable to hold back all her moans. He looks at her, with his hungry eyes and mouth.

He plays with her bundle of nerves, making small circles and sucking it hard. His tongue go a little lower, teasing her entrance by sliding it in and out quickly. Her hand quickly finds his hair, lightly pulling on it to show him her pleasure.

He removes one hand from her thigh, using his fingers to continue the circles as he fucks her with his tongue. She quickly finds herself grinding against his face, his nose perfectly aligned with her clit.

Oscar knows that she was going to cum, he knows her better than anyone. He made her cum hundreds of times. And usually, he would have made her wait, he would have tortured her by forbidding her to cum.

But today, he only wants his own good. He only wants to please her.

''Cum for me baby.'' He moans against her cunt. The vibrations of his voice are felt throughout her body, her back arching as she drowns him in her liquid.

She moaned his name loudly and for a long time in pleasure, reaching ecstasy.

Oscar, proud of himself as always, does not lose a single drop of her precious liquid. He moves his kisses towards her breasts which he does not fail to tease too. He licks one and gropes another, pinching and biting her nipples.

But she suddenly takes control by turning him onto his back, riding him. She removes the last pieces of clothing that separates her from his already hard cock. She gets between his legs, her gaze full of lust and hunger.

Oscar doesn't say no and groans when she takes it in her hand, jerking him off quickly.

''Uhg.. y/n.. keep..'' She uses her thumb to play with his tip, making him moan louder. He moves his hips around her hands, showing her his impatience.

She doesn't wait any longer and shoves him into her mouth, already making him hit the back of her throat, making herself gagging.

He grabs her hair and puts it in a ponytail as she bobbed her head up and down around his shaft, taking him to heaven.

As he is about to cum, she removes him from her mouth and runs her tongue over his lips.

''Y/n!'' He groaned in frustration, making her giggle.

''You want to take full control?'' She barely has time to finish her sentence as he nods his head quickly.

She takes him back in her mouth and opens her mouth as wide as possible, letting him hit the back of her throat again and again, gagging.

His hips move frantically as he begins to see the stars.

''Oh yes! Fuck y/n! Yes baby! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!'' His head falls back as he cums roughly into his beloved's mouth.

His head is on fire, his vision is blurry and he is having trouble catching his breath.

She gets back on top of him, resting her pussy on his already soft-hard cock, moving her hips to tease him again.

He growls and turns her around, getting back on top of her.

''You better be ready pretty y/n..'' He whispered to her ear, entering her gently.

She moans loudly the whole time he enters, him hiding his head in the cushion next to her. He grabs one of her hands, puts it above her head and intertwines his fingers with hers. Her other hand is already clutched behind his back, ready for what's next.

He starts to move slowly and they feel that they are already going to cum soon. Her because of her sensitivity and the treats she made to him, him because just seeing her underneath him, her moans filling the room, turns him on so much.

His movements quicken, the groans in the room quicken, the sound of the flesh crashing together quicken.

The room is filled with 'uh uh' sometimes smothered by sensual kisses.

Oscar can't take it anymore. He loves her so much. He wanted her just for himself. He wanted her forever. And his mind is so dirty now. He wants to forever engrave in his memory his beloved beneath him, begging him to go faster.

After just a few minutes that seemed like seconds, Oscar filled his pretty girl with his precious liquid, her who quickly joined him.

Oscar's arms tremble and he falls on his princess, exhausted by all the efforts he has made.

She kissed his hair, wet from the sweat.

''We should try to make babies every day.'' She giggles as he kisses her neck.

[mercutio-the-velaryon]

Okay, the Twitter takes are pissing me awfff, so let's get this straight and then never talk about it again.

The conversation between Mel and Jayce in the council room definitely should have taken place at some point. I think it was better suited to have happened at an earlier point, like episode one. However, the conversation itself fell very flat, and its contents failed to properly reflect the issue with Mel and Jayce's relationship dynamic.

In the confrontation Jay asks, with a very fragmented mind, whether she only protected her and Jayce on purpose, she says no, he says I can't believe that because of you using victor and me for hextech and calling us investments.

This accusation doesn't really make any sense, because although her actions and methods were unethical making a business investment out of hextech does not align with the extremities of purposefully not protecting the other in the council room.

Let me be clear, it is blatantly obvious that Jayce only makes this accusation because he has been through the mental and physical ringer. That is part of the reason why I think this conversation should've happened earlier so the real issues could've been addressed. Because now within context, his almost valid criticism is treated as lashing out, and it has to be swept under the rug because we got war the next episode.

Now for a breakdown:

Mel and Jayce's relationship was imbalanced from its inception. He had piqued her political interest from the moment he stood before the council for his unlawful science experiments. She was interested in Hextech from the jump but didn't make it known until she knew it was a beneficial venture. But that wasn't a problem that was the fall of the first domino.

Throughout their relationship, Mel is always one or two steps ahead of Jayce. She leads and guides him to make decisions that she deems necessary to attain the power and influence required to improve Piltover. I believe that she wants Jayce to fully realise his dream of helping the masses, due to her being an empath, she takes on his wants and desires which results in his success mattering more and more to her as the story progresses.

So, she is well intentioned but inconsiderate of the fact that Jayce rarely wants to be where she encourages him to go he just has an unshakeable sense of responsibility. She orchestrates behind the scenes for his benefit, springs investors on him, and advocates for his place on the council, all without any discussion or proper dialogue with he who it does concern. It's kind of funny that she's very considerate of him, but she doesn't consult him on anything. She's already made up her mind when they speak; she goes to convince not to discuss.

Let me very quickly assert that I don't think what Mel does obstructs his autonomy or his own free will, she offers and he accepts and he always has the option not to but he rarely does mainly because I think he's a people pleaser and he also holds Mel in high regard.

Let us also remember that he is an educated man from a House in Piltover with a sponser from the council he is a man of privilege his social status is his largest obstacle to realising his dream because he isn't even versed in the complex issues of the people he's trying to help.

Considering all of this, the conversation in the council room followed by Jayce's non-apology and their subsequent break-up scene that was more a viscerally implied break up than explicity stated (which I think was an odd choice because they'd known each other for years and they just kind of fizzle out) are an ill match to what actually transpired between them.

There was such an amazing opportunity for them to have a compelling dialogue about their relationship imbalance. If it had been more two-sided, we could have had Jayce bring up being used as a political pawn but also bearing the weight of his own choices, and Mel being emotionally closed off and unreachable.

It should have played out like a tennis match until both of them lost. Then, for the break up, if thats what it was, they were still characters who meant a lot to each other and deserved a just goodbye, featuring a little hand holding and Mel pulls away first and then they walk away from each other.

In general, Mel, as a character, endured a lot with little to no triumph or compensation. For example, the next time we see Mel after that she's trying to talk her mother down speaks "out of turn" and ends up getting bitch slapped by her I mean...

And you can argue that becoming the wolf was triumphant. I would say that it was a very bittersweet moment with an emphasis on bitter because that felt like the passing on of a generational curse.

You could also argue that Jayce had endured a lot by that point. Well... yes! He did, and he didn't seek comfort in her. He couldn't. He wasn't asking for it like she was. He also got to die in the arms of the person he loved, man got glorious closure, no notes.

I think the scene with Jayce also revealed how isolated Mel is as a character. In the sense that she feels so separated from the main narrative, like if you culled her entire storyline, it wouldn't change much. She also has no other established relationships of depth among the protagonists, no dynamic with anyone, her final battle is her and Cait teaming up, and they don't really mean anything to each other. Which sounds irrelevant until you consider how inextricably linked everyone else is.

And yes, they were both somewhat Ambessa's heirs in some capacity more figuratively for Cait, but it fell just fell short emotionally especially in contrast to Ekko and Jinx and Jinx and Vi and even Ekko and Jayvik because they're the science buffs and the kid straight out of Zaun with no formal education shattered time. Ugh, now that's a Triumph!

[flythesail]

I think a lot of how the acolyte would end depends on what exactly Qimir's motive is. Because the way I see it: Osha and Mae's relationship is still in many ways the heart of the show. But, from a plot perspective, it also is called the acolyte, and s1 is, of course, Osha's journey to becoming the very thing Qimir explicity said he wants. Then you also end on the image of them side by side. It's not up for debate that Osha and Qimir's relationship also becomes central to the show.

Then in s2, you introduce Darth Plagueis, so that allows Qimir to fully move out of the antagonist role and into one that's more mentor/love interest. That's not to say there can't be any antagonism within Osha and Qimir's relationship. In fact, they should clash as they work out how to be partners and balance a budding romance with the inherent power imbalance that exists if you view Qimir as the master as Osha begins her training.

But point being - Qimir doesn't need to add major conflict when there's already so much going on. You have Plagueis trying to use Osha for his own goals, as well as Mae and Vernestra's hunt for Qimir (and Osha by extension). Qimir's backstory is another mystery to answer, yet that's something that could put Osha and Qimir on equal footing as it's a chance for him to share more of himself with her.

Just to play advocate: What if Qimir's backstory does put him fully in the wrong? As of this point, Osha was already witness to him killing seven Jedi. If that didn't deter her from standing side by side with him, anything else bad that happened between him and the Jedi probably wouldn't either. Plus, the show has a tendency to bring a level of nuance where no one is solely one thing or the other.

Still, there could be more to Qimir than simply wanting the power of two. Is he looking to be stronger against the Jedi and gain companionship, or is there an end goal?

Let's say Osha disagrees with his end goal. No matter what, she and Mae have to reunite at some point. And we also know s1 was setting up Qimir to be a love interest. So one possible route is you have Osha and Qimir fall in love, there's some sort of *conflict* between them where Osha decides she can't go further with him, and she chooses Mae. Then from there, you can have Osha and Qimir in a weird place where there's still love but they're enemies.

Because I do think there's a lot of setup to imply Osha and Qimir would eventually have a child. There was discussion within the coven about Osha and Mae continuing their legacy (which, doesn't necessarily have to be a child - yet the theme exists beyond here). S1 has Mother Aniseya creating life via the Force, and s2 would in theory, dive into Sith legacy and how Plagueis wants to extend his own life. Basically, creation of life is a theme and there's also a lot of emphasis on the skura family on the unknown planet, which can't be for nothing after it's shown so many times.

(And, we also don't know who Qimir is. If he's a Ren - that's another legacy they could all start as the Knights of Ren.)

At some point, Osha should have to make it clear she chooses Mae. The finale both does and doesn't do that. Mae asks what she wants, and Osha looks right at Qimir. So, she wants to train. But, she also frames it as if she trains with Qimir, he will allow Mae to go. That doesn't seem totally necessary because Qimir doesn't seem intent on killing Mae anymore for betraying him. (And if he did really want to, he already had plenty of opportunity.)

So the logic is a little shaky. Maybe an attempt to put Osha less in the wrong if she's also protecting Mae. There's also the question of why Mae couldn't just come with them. But tbh I don't mind suspending my disbelief when the setup you get for s2 is interesting - putting Mae with the Jedi and Osha with Qimir. There were other ways to get there, but for time purposes, this does what it needs to.

Osha eventually making it clear she chooses Mae is what can tie the show all together. From when they were kids through everything with the Jedi to now, and in many ways they are destined for each other too - being the same in the Force and all.

So your question becomes whether the story ends with Mae and Osha or with Mae and Osha, plus Qimir by their side. As attached as I've become to oshamir, the potential is still there for a tragic ending between them. If you bring things to a certain point, what if Osha has to be the one to kill him? Or, he could be killed, but it would hit if she's the one to do it.

[demi-shoggoth]

2024 Reading Log, pt 2

006. Gardening Can Be Murder by Marta McDowell. I honestly thought that this book was going to be about something else. With the subtitle “how poisonous plants, sinister shovels and grim gardens have inspired mystery writers”, I thought it was going to be about, you know, that. True crime themed to gardens, discussions of poisonous plants, that sort of thing. The book is actually about the mystery books that have gardening as a theme. And while the author’s dedication to not spoiling anything (seriously, anything, even 150 year old stories like The Moonstone or “Rappacini’s Daughter”) is admirable in its own way, this leaves the book feeling like endless buildup without any payoff. Big fans of murder mysteries might enjoy this—especially the last chapter, which interviews writers about their gardens—but I found it more boring than anything else, and finished it only because it was very short.

007. Antimony, Gold and Jupiter’s Wolf by Peter Wothers. This book is about how the elements got their names, and most of it deals with the early modern period, as alchemy transitioned to chemistry and then into the 19th century, when chemistry was a real science, but things like atomic theory were not yet understood. The book goes into fascinating detail, and has a lot of quotes from primary sources, as scientists then were just like scientists now, that is, opinionated and bickering with each other over their preferred explanations. And names! Many of the splits between elements and their symbols (like Na for sodium) are due to compromise attempts to appease two different factions with their preferred names. A book covering arcane minutia of history always has the risk of feeling like a slog, but this is a fast and fun read.

008. Doctor Dhrolin’s Dictionary of Dinosaurs by Nathan T Barling and Michael O’Sullivan, illustrations by Mark P Witton. This book is an odd concept, but one that I was immediately on board with—a D&D book written by paleontologists with the intention of bringing accurate and interesting stats for prehistoric reptiles to the game. The fact that it’s mostly illustrated by Mark Witton definitely clinched my backing that Kickstarter. And this book is a lot of fun. So much so, that I read it all in a single sitting. I don’t know how accurate the stats are (like, a Hatzegopteryx has a higher CR than titanosaurs or T. rexes), but they seem like they’d be fun in play, and the writing does a good job of combining fantasy fun with actual education. Even for someone not running a 5e game, the stuff on how to run animals as not killing machines, and the mutation tables, could be useful. There are multiple types of playable dinosaurs, all of which seem like they’d work well at the table and avoid typical stereotypes, and a lot of in-jokes and pop culture references (like the cursed staff of unspared expense, which looks like Hammond’s cane in the Jurassic Park movie).

009. Romaine Wasn’t Built in a Day by Judith Tschann. I’m a sucker for books about etymology. And this one, on food etymology, is a pretty breezy read. I had fun with it, and it even busted some misconceptions that I had, etymologically speaking. Like, there’s no evidence that “bloody” as an explicative originated from “God’s blood”? Wild. Etymology books tend to be written in a sort of stream-of-consciousness style, where talking about one word may lead down a garden path to the next one. The book also has a couple of little matching quizzes, which is something I haven’t seen in a book since like the 90s.

010. The Lives of Octopuses and their Relatives by Danna Staaf. I was previously a little disappointed in The Lives of Beetles, another book in this series, but I knew I liked Staaf, who wrote the excellent book Squid Empire about cephalopod evolution and paleontology. I’m pleased to report that this book is also excellent. Staaf takes the “lives” part seriously, and the book is arranged by ecology, looking at different marine habitats, the challenges that they pose to living things, and the cephalopods that live there. Cuttlefish get slightly short shrift in this book compared to squids and octopuses, but that’s about the biggest complaint I had. I like how the species profiles cover more obscure taxa, and information about the best studied (like Pacific giant octopus and Humboldt squid) is kept to the chapters.

[apenitentialprayer]

I know you’re a busy guy and idk if you have an answer to this but I was wondering if you have a favorite nouvelle theologie work or even just theologian in general. Seems like you would be the one to ask around here especially since you and I briefly discussed that one book from de Lubac

Okay, this might be considered cheating because I only have really read the stuff he has written after his election to the papacy, but Benedict XVI is probably my favorite author from the movement. Spe salvi was an incredibly heartening work, and the way he combined patristic interpretations of the gospels with modern (well, modern-ish) scholarship in his Jesus of Nazareth is one of the reasons that I want to go through that trilogy at least once a year.

But if we're going to discount Benedict, Henri de Lubac is definitely the one I have read most. His The Christian Faith: An Exposition of the Apostles' Creed was a phenomenal work, as was his The Motherhood of the Church. (I read them as translated by Richard Arnandez, F.S.C. and Sergia Englund, O.C.D., respectively). In addition to those works, I have his book on Origen that we discussed on my list of to-reads, as well as A Brief Catechesis on Nature and Grace. One of the cool things about de Lubac's works is that they are very much in conversation with books written by other members of the nouvelle théologie movement; he often quotes and explicates upon the ideas of Hans Urs von Balthasar, Karl Rahner, and Joseph Ratzinger.

After him, Jean Daniélou is probably the one I am most familiar with. He wrote The Angels and Their Mission According The Fathers of the Church; which I thought was a really interesting work, and helped me get into a more mystical understanding of the Mass. He also wrote Holy Pagans of the Old Testament, which I haven't read yet but is on my list. This book is about those individuals in the Hebrew Scriptures who were not a part of Israel, yet nonetheless were venerated by the early Church as saints (think Noah, Enoch, Lot, the Queen of Sheba, etc). And, interestingly enough, he also wrote a book about Origen.

I could probably come up with others, but these are the three that I wouldn't hesitate to recommend. I doubt you need samples concerning Pope Benedict, but if you check out my Henri de Lubac and Fr. Jean Danielou tags, you'll find some passages from both their works.

[classicrocknlove]

~Jimmy Page Fanfiction~

Spread Your Wings

“I’m just looking for an angel with a broken wing…. But somehow, they always seem to fly, fly away…”

-

Chapter Seven

July 27th, 1973, Continued.

10pm, Concert #1.

-

Cynthia’s P.O.V.

I watched in awe of the thousands upon thousands of fans that had rushed into the venue.

Bonzo had come over to discuss a few more questions with me before the concert started, for which I was grateful.

He was very loud and boisterous socially, but was actually kind of soft-spoken when addressing others in small, quieter setting.

He was charming and so kind, much like Robert. He was a great person to be around, a bit rough around the edges, but ultimately entertaining and a joy to converse with.

Now, really, all there was left is to try and entice Jimmy to an interview with me.

I have had no dice with this yet, and I was running out of time- and energy.

These were long days just walking around backstage, doing as much writing as I could. I really wish I had brought my type writer so I could start typing some of the story, for which I already had the beginning of the article planned out.

My notes were beginning to stagger and scattered my notebook papers in unorganized hues. I decided to start structuring how I will complete the story and spent quite a bit of time on that right before the concert started.

I stood on the side of the stage alongside Peter and a few roadies who were readily available for any inconvenience or need the band may have as they perform.

To say the least, I was awestruck by their performance. I thought their rehearsals were fantastic, but watching them live, so confident and effective with their audience was another animal entirely.

I was besotted watching them… especially Jimmy. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Robert, Jones, and Bonzo certainly explicate their talents amazingly, but Jimmy’s playing, his moves, his little looks to me from time to time mesmerized me. I was hot and tingly all over and wasn’t sure if that was because the arena had become feeling like a furnace, or if it was Jimmy’s evocative form of toying with his instrument. Either way, I was a shivery mess by the time the band had gotten to Dazed and Confused.

The beginning chords of Jonesy’s bass for the song led the band to a long jam, intercepting different songs and melodies through the rendition. Jimmy’s unearthly bow guitar solo was enigmatic, and had everyone in the building quaking in their hulls. Soon he discarded of the wand and got back to using his talented fingers, moving all sorts of ways around the stage. I watched him as he stood slightly in front of Bonzo’s kit, harping away at his guitar with his eyes closed, body moving. I watched as he captivated the crowd, especially the lucky girls front row, all watching him bend down to snag a few notes from the fret board as he moved across the stage smoothly.

I had seen many guitarists play- from Tony Iommi, to Eric Clapton, to Hendrix, but none held a candle in my eyes to Jimmy. God, he was magnificent.

I snapped a few Polaroid photos of the group while they performed and wrote a few notes, mainly describing my reaction to each song, my experience heightening with every riff.

As the band got through a couple of more songs, it was soon Bonzo’s turn to steal the show with “Moby Dick”.

I had already walked away from the stage a few minutes prior, needing to use the restroom and get a refreshment. I was parched and my feet were killing me!

Curse these Keds.

I was walking back to the stage to watch John wail away at his drum kit, until Robert stopped me in my tracks.

“Darling! Enjoying the show so far?” He inquires and I sigh contently and nod.

“You guys sound spectacular. I don’t know how you do it, in front of all those people!” I exclaim, pointing to the dim stage some feet away.

“Comes with the territory. I’ve gotten quite used to it myself, but always have the butterflies before it, you know.” He says, patting his toned stomach that was exposed by a frilly unbuttoned blouse of some sort. He had an interesting taste in style and I admired him for it.

As Robert talked, my eyes veered to the left of his blonde mane, and I watched behind him as Jimmy strolled out of the restroom door. A crew member caught him, handing him a cup with his usual dark choice of liquor and he sipped on it as he walked with the roadie. He caught my eyes and winked, picking up his pace and trotting over to where we stood, handing off his plastic cup to another working member of the Zeppelin crew. His outfit tonight was gorgeous, though I had seen it hung in his dressing room beforehand. The flowers on his jacket sparkled in the bright light of the backstage area, and even more so under the hazy purple, red, and yellow lights while they performed on stage. His pants hugged his long legs before flaring out at the bottom, making his long legs look even longer. The planet of Saturn hugged his bottom as he walked over to us.

He was such a sight for sore eyes and he knew it.

He reaches us and grabs my butterfly-clad travel water bottle (that I decorated when I was in the eighth grade- Dear God) out of my hands and takes a swig of the ice cold water that I had just retrieved from the ice machine.

“It’s not Jack, but it’ll do.” He tells me with a wild grin before taking more sips. I don’t think he needed to drink anymore alcohol. The faint smell of whiskey was wafting off of him, along with the smell of his fresh sweat and mint.

“Five minutes, boys!” One of the roadies exclaims as he rushed passed the three of us to tend to more equipment managing.

Robert raised his eyebrows at Jimmy and I and imitated the poor crew member. They chuckled as Robert repeated “Boys! Boys!” to Jimmy.

“Bloke is going to have a heart attack by the time these shows are over.” Robert tells us as he shakes his head and watches the same roadie fast-walk back and forth from the stage to the backstage area, then back to the stage again.

“Stressful job, I’d imagine. The rest of us just get to stand and watch!” I tell them and Robert shrugs and nods, understandingly. A young woman calls to Robert and he gives Jimmy a pat on the back and a quick goodbye to me before dashing off to the restroom with the girl. Oh my.

“You do enough watching for the lot of us, Cynthia.” Jimmy informs me and I turn my head towards him with quickness.

“How do you mean?” I ask him, really not understanding his pronouncement.

“Your eyes have been bonded to me since we began. Not that I mind, we both know you like to watch me.” He tells me, getting closer.

“I’ve caught you, your gaze, more times than I can count in the last days. I don’t think you are as virtuous as you portray, my love…” he whispers seductively in my ear, his damp hair brushing my cheek.

“Jimmy.” I whisper, barely audible but I can tell it affected him all the same.

“How will I ever go on without knowing?” He finished and places his hand on my hip and his words send a jolt through my body. I drop my water bottle, the obnoxious sound ricocheting around the area.

Suddenly, another crew member comes hurriedly to us, Jimmy’s Les Paul in hand.

“You’re back on, Jim!” He hands over the beloved instrument and Jimmy throws the strap over his shoulder effortlessly, one hand holding the neck up so as the guitar wasn’t hanging loosely on him in the moment.

“To be continued.” He kisses the tips of his right fingers and places them on my forehead for what feels like a tenth of a second, before pulling away. I couldn’t hold back my smile if I tried.

He trudges off to the stage behind Robert and Jonesy and soon enough, the final rhythm of “Moby Dick” sounds through the arena.

I stood by the amps again, planted in my spot for the next couple of songs before my stomach started to rumble with hunger.

I knew they were going to be finished soon, the last couple of rehearsals had the set list imprinted into my brain, and I knew I hadn’t much time before the concert was over. But, I was happy to see that their first gig had went smoothly.

I walked over to the table where fruits were scatted in a basket and leftover scones and finger sandwiches sat. I picked myself a few berries and pieces of watermelon, lackadaisically popping them into my mouth.

Soon, the cluster of the crew came barreling backstage, with Jimmy, Jones, Robert, and Bonzo following behind.

There was a few minutes to spare before we had to head to the cars and make our way out of the back tunnel of the venue.

I went to go retrieve my things and wondered what the rest of the night held for myself and the band. I was curious if they were going out or heading to their hotel.

I found myself yearning to be by Jimmy, wanting that feeling inside me brought back, that only he seems to bring about.

My eyes scanned the backstage area, shamelessly looking for a certain dark, tousled head, until Richard appeared at my side, interrupting my search.

“We need to head out. Follow me.” He instructs and before I can process his statement, he’s tugging me along the backstage area, muttering to himself about finding the guys too.

I didn’t see them anywhere. I was beginning to think they had already left and Richard was just slow on the uptake, until I saw the band huddled in a circular area at the end of the corridor.

This area was merely a resting place. It was away from the entire backstage area and was clad with a few chairs and a couch. It had been acting as a storage area for the band at the moment, cases and boxes cluttering the floor by the furniture.

I spot Robert and Bonzo standing with Peter. Catching my eyes, Robert waved and I returned the greeting.

My eyes danced around the room, seeing Jonesy sitting with a couple of fellows while holding his bass.

I trailed my gaze to the ratty couch that sat against the wall and my eyes landed on Jimmy.

He was perched on the couch with his legs unfolded and knees wide. He was still clad in his embroidered Saturn-based suit, and his hair had returned to its soaking wet appearance.

What I further recognized made me sick to my stomach. A slender girl with pale skin and big black curls sat with him, or rather on him, with her hand rubbing at his inner thighs as she whispered something to him in his ear.

Fucking slut.

I am shocked by my abrupt and insolent thoughts about the girl. She had done nothing to me. These thoughts, these negative feelings, should be toward Jimmy and Jimmy only.

He was still sitting there, after all, wasn’t he? Letting her touch him? He didn’t seem to be fighting her off or retreating from her.

A pang of hurt and jealousy warped through my body and I fought back angry tears.

This is why I don’t get involved. I am so stupid.

‘Stupid, naive, Cynthia. You’ve made another mess, haven’t you?

You couldn’t even hold onto Jack, you think you could “hold on” to a man like Jimmy Page? You are a mad woman.’

My thoughts became overbearing and I needed to leave. Get away from all this. I needed a good night’s sleep. That’s all I needed.

My cozy bed in my apartment sounded really enticing all of sudden. That, a box of tissues and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.

That’ll do the trick. It always aided my scorned heart before.

I didn’t realize Jimmy had caught my stare and I looked away quickly, tugging away from Richard’s grip. I said my quick goodbyes to the band, minus Jimmy, and promises to see each other tomorrow muttered from our mouths.

Robert gave me a knowing look after seeing my apparent avoidance of Jimmy. I could tell he was fully aware of my dilemma and understood my reasoning of a quick exit.

I rushed through the two sets of back doors into the dark, cool night air.

I saw the cars waiting and decided to avoid them all together. I couldn’t risk being stuck in a car with Jimmy, especially along with whatever girl he decided to bring with him. ‘What an asshole.’ I thought to myself as I breathed in the fresh air.

I walked through the large back parking lot, on my way to the pavement along the road, hoping there was an available cab around.

There wasn’t any fans scattered back here, surprisingly. I was alone with my thoughts until I heard a voice boom behind me.

“Cynthia!” He yelled. Him. I knew it was him. What could he possibly want from me now? What, does he need a punching bag to hurl insults at again? Had the girl on his lap not sufficed him?

“Cynthia, goddamit!” Jimmy yelled again, his voice sounding much farther away. I had already started running. I needed to get as far from him as possible.

I was out of breath by the time I paused my mission. I leaned my back against a tree and looked toward the back doors of the venue, having to squint as I had ran a great deal. I moved slightly, the bark of the tree lightly scraping against my shoulders.

I squinted back towards the back of the arena. Thankfully, Jimmy had not pursued me further than his few shouts to me.

I knew what had to be done, now. I either had to have Peter or Richard approach Jimmy and ask him my questions, or I had to just tell Paul that I wasn’t able to get my interview with him.

I wanted to stay away from him as much as I could. He clearly was a master manipulator and seducer, and he had me going. He really did.

I could not bare to be around him much longer and prayed silently that the next couple of days would be void of Jimmy and his perplexing behavior toward me. I hoped now, that he would stay away from me. Take the hint.

I began to think about how I could word my expressions to Peter and Richard, how I could possibly ask them to do MY job for ME. They would probably laugh in my face.

I was horribly vexed on what to do in this situation and I just trudged my body toward the busy sidewalk, trying to distract my brain with thoughts other than Jimmy.

After around ten minutes of prodding my hand out to bustling cab drivers, one of the yellow vehicles finally took a fast halt to the curb and allowed me to get in.

It took a while for the car to arrive at my apartment complex. I had almost passed out from my fatigue in the backseat of the Checker Cab, until the driver grumbled what I owed to him.

I stumbled out of the vehicle and up to the awaiting door to the small lobby area of my apartment.

I climbed the three sets of stairs and sloppily placed my key into the door handle of my apartment.

I turned on my pink Tiffany floor lamp and ripped off all of my clothes hastily.

I just about jumped into my tub and took a quick, boiling shower. I stepped out of the tub, wiping the steam from the mirror and staring at my reflection.

‘Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Jimmy Page could have anyone he wanted! He’s probably off having sex right now! Why in the hell would you get yourself all worked up over someone like him?’

My thoughts tortured me while I threw on a powder-blue sleeveless nightgown. I did the inevitable walk to my freezer of my small studio apartment and grabbed the cookie dough ice cream out of it.

I took a few huge gulps of it, then decided that it would taste much better in my bed. I took the pint and the silver spoon into my right hand and lifted my covers with my left.

I ate while being deep in thought about what I would do if I saw Jimmy again. Would I slap his gorgeous face? Would I cower into a corner? Would I kiss his perfect lips? Would I give him a great, big piece of my mind?

I wanted to do all of these things, not necessarily in that order.

He had put some kind of spell on me. I wasn’t sure how or why, but he had me completely shuddering at the mere mention of his name. I was convinced that I was going mad and it was just the loneliness kicking in from my breakup with Jack. That had to be it. I was never one to be “boy-crazy”. Jack had been the only man I have ever dated! My thoughts of Jack disgusted me, even more than my thoughts of Jimmy and the girl just an hour prior.

I realized that since meeting Jimmy, Jack has been off my mind. Completely out of site and out of mind. I was glad about this, but wished this would have been the effect of my meeting another man, not Jimmy, whom is clearly not interested in going steady with any girl, much less a junior, ordinary girl like me.

I had to just stick it out the next couple of days. That’s all. There was nothing else that could be done and I was definitely not complaining to Peter or Richard and especially not Paul.

I threw the empty pint of ice cream onto my nightstand before getting up and switching off my lamp.

I threw myself back onto my bed, sleep overtaking me and before long, I was out like a light.

~ 2:17am ~

I awoke to a commotion outside of my apartment door. Voices and banging boomed from behind my old, rickety wooden door.

I rubbed at my eyes, wiping away the dried sleep in the corners and padded over to my door.

I pryed the peephole cover open, nosily looking into the hallway to see what all of the racket was about.

As my left eye peered into the small circle of vision, it just about fell out of its socket.

I could see Richard and Jimmy standing, well actually Richard was practically holding Jimmy up, one arm strapped firmly around his upper back, and one arm pointing a finger in Roger’s face.

I was stunned and my hands worked faster than my brain and I hurriedly unlocked the door and swung it open.

The rumpus in front of me much clearer now and Richard and Roger stopped their bickering to turn toward me.

“Cynthia! For fucks sake, there you are!” Richard exclaims with a hand in the air. “What kind of fucking neighbors have you here, eh? No fucking manners, I tell you!” Richard yells and drags Jimmy along with him as he comes toward me.

“Cyn…” Jimmy mutters as he tries to straighten up his back and stand up straight, stumbling a bit with Richard’s grip still around him. He reaches out for me and I place a hand out to stop him.

“Cynthia! Do you know these people?” Roger asked, looking horrified and shocked at the scene before him.

“Roger, please,” I beg him not to say another word, “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow. I’m so sorry.” I tell him apologetically and he gives me one last dismayed look before he traipsed back into his apartment and slammed the door shut.

“Oh no, Rich, you’ve upset ol’ Prince Charming.” Jimmy hiccups and giggles while trying to escape Richard’s grip once again.

“Enough of that!” Richard declares to him before turning back to me.

“He wouldn’t let me take him back to the hotel. He demanded I take him here to see you. But we had no idea which apartment you lived in. We’ve been knocking on doors for twenty minutes until we came abound that fucking sod across the way.” Richard informs me, gesturing to Roger’s door and I shake my head in astonishment.

“Richard, what the hell is this about?” I ask him, my voice raised slightly, but still remained in a hushed tone.

“Jimmy, here, has been fucking sulking since you left.” He confesses and Jimmy scoffs, ready to retort.

“Here, take him. The car will be here tomorrow morning at ten. Do not keep my driver waiting. I will see you both tomorrow.” Richard demands, practically tossing Jimmy at me. Richard rubs my shoulder lightly and gives it a light pat, while silently scolding Jimmy with a few hard pats to his back.

“Sober up, Page!” Richard yells as he jolts down the stairs. I cringe at his loud voice at this hour, but it appears they’ve already disturbed everyone anyway. Dear Lord, what would Roger think of me now?

“Richard, where are you going? You can’t just-“ I try to put up a fight, running to the edge of the stairwell as Jimmy leans his body against my doorframe. Richard’s heavy footsteps continue down the endless flights of stairs and hurries out of the front door, ignoring me. I sigh loudly to myself, gripping the wooden staircase ledges before turning back toward Jimmy. I am suddenly self conscious of my sleep attire and bare feet. I fold my arms over my chest, hoping to gain a bit of power back.

Once my narrowed eyes are upon him, I see Jimmy is still leaning against my door frame, the large oak door now slightly ajar. His face is plastered with a large grin, his curls tousled ever so slightly around his face, his clothes wrinkled. His shirt is slightly unbuttoned, as usual, and is sloppily half untucked. He looks beautifully disheveled and I am taken aback by the sight of him. He gives me a once over and a smirk before opening his mouth to speak.

“Give us a hand, will you, love? I am falling asleep on me feet, here.” He tells me, his mouth forming an even larger Cheshire grin and he reaches his arms out toward me, rather dramatically.

I shake my head, rolling my eyes and saunter towards him, unknowing of my fate for the rest of the night.

Somewhere inside me, deep down, though I could feel and express it if I wanted, was vast exhilaration and contentment that Jimmy was here, right now. With me.

��

A/N

Here is chapter seven!

I have really been enjoying writing this story and have much planned for the future of it. I am trying to work out all the kinks and things as I go.

Please, please, please send me your responses and thoughts. I love to hear your feedback and see your support!

Thank you for reading, thank you for the follows and support thus far! ❤️

Link to Chapter Eight: https://www.tumblr.com/classicrocknlove/781644063898222592/spread-your-wings

[anthonymire]

I said I was going to start writing book reviews again so here we go.

Today I finished It Came From The Closet: Queer Reflections On Horror. This is a collection of personal essays explicating each authors' relationship to the horror genre. As with any essay collection there were some brilliant and insightful pieces in here and some that didn't resonate with me.

The standout essays from this collection are "On Beauty and Necrosis" by Sachiko Ragosta and "Indescribable" by Carrow Narby.

In "On Beauty and Necrosis", Ragosta discusses their queer experience through the lens of the film Eyes Without A Face, in which a doctor holds his disfigured daughter captive in their family home while searching for a beautiful woman whose face he can transplant onto hers. Ragosta is interested in the metaphor of the mask as it related to transness, specifically the nonbinary experience.

[Her father] reduces her to her ability to fit into hegemonic standards of beauty, disinterested in the other parts of her that remain unmarred. In this way, Eyes Without a Face can be read as a subversion of the stories that paint trans people as masked murders (see: Dressed to Kill, Psycho, The Silence of the Lambs, Sleepaway Camp, etc.) - tricksters hiding some imagined biological truth. Trans people are reduced to our ability to fit some imagined but collectively reinforced standards of gender.

Transness to Rogosta is unmasking. In order to move through a binary gendered society we are expected to adopt one of the binary genders and constantly maintain a performance of it, just as Christaine of the film is expected to wear her mask around the house to get used to wearing it in public. "It is violent to ask trans people to mask ourselves so it is easier for others to "understand" us, and this is not understanding at all."

In "Indescribable", Narby discusses their experiences as agender and why they are compelled by the amorphous creatures of The Blob and Society.

We know what woman is because, in any given context where man and woman are conceptualized, we can define the boundary of what is and is not man. We can name homosexuality because we can contrast it with heterosexuality. We develop a sense of self because we can recognize that which is outside of or apart from ourselves. But what if those distinctions were permeable? What if they collapsed entirely?…An all-consuming blob is about the most literal representation of the collapse of meaning that I can imagine.

The blob represents perfect permeability and, to Narby, tantalizes with an idea of perfect understanding and unity. This wish for perfect unity emerges from Narby's absence of gender: "Gender, among its other applications, is the primary framework through which desire and romantic intimacy are understood." To understand desire and intimacy without the gender binary it is necessary to first understand that we absorb our ideas about what love is through a binary framework. Narby wonders if love is even legible to the dominant culture as love without this framework, which is something I had never considered in quite this way. I myself have often been preoccupied with the idea of intimacy that transcends the physical body through permeability and I found this essay revelatory.

Other worthwhile essays in this collection are

"The Girl, The Well, The Ring" by Zephyr Lisowski about The Ring and Pet Sematary, which discusses her view of the interplay between disability and transfemininity

"Twin/Skin" by Addie Tsai about Dead Ringers, which details her connection to the movie as an estranged twin, and

"Bad Hombre" by Sarah Fonseca about Eres tu, papa?, a Cuban horror film about the relationship between fathers and daughters under racialized patriarchy, and how that is influenced by rural poverty brought on by colonial oppression.

I'd recommend this book to anyone who like personal essays, or to horror fans who have ever found themselves grappling with what it means to see ourselves in a genre that oftentimes hates us.

[kenzietensei]

Thoughts on sweet pool

So, I installed this game on my laptop a couple years ago, and only played about an hour into it at the time. This past week I was dogsitting and my laptop was with me, so I thought to play through the various endings of sweet pool.

I'd gotten the game because I read a tumblr post about the history of omegaverse, and I thought it would be interesting to see the origin of some of those tropes. I'm not into omegaverse, though I've read one or two fics using that setup. I'm not really into BL either, and most visual novels I've played have been otome or mystery stories. Also not a fan of gore or horror! So, uh, really not the audience for this title XD

Even so, I found the game compelling and it's been rotating in my brain the last few days since I got through the whole thing. There are a couple points in which I think my perspective might be unique so I figured I'd share. Spoilers below. If you're familiar with the plot, you'd also know what content warnings might apply here, so keep that in mind too >.>

First, I wanna go over some points I haven't really seen discussed/explicated anywhere that stuck out to me!

About the parasites:

The infodump that Kitani reads mentions markmeat, which I've seen reviews refer to as the stuff Youji passes. I'm pretty certain the fleshy bits are actually the fleshseeds and the markmeat is the 'bloodlike' pheromone which seeps out of Youji's neck.

The only people who can see this stuff is supposedly hosts. If you're a host, you'll become either Osu or Mesu. But it's unclear when that transition happens. Is it like a secondary puberty? Zenya's issues have been with him a long time, but he's also an unusual case. Tetsuo has had regenerative talent from childhood. Youji's accident was several years ago, but only very recently has he begun emitting pheromones.

There are at least two other people who can see these signs of the parasite who are unaffiliated with the cult as far as we know! There are rumors going around the school of blood and guts in the chem lab, and a separate rumor about blood and guts in the boys bathroom. Both incidents come about through a male student becoming alarmed and upset upon seeing something no one else can confirm is there. If it had been the same kid, I think the rumors would go a little differently (aka such and such has gone mad, that sort of thing) so I think its fair to say that more than one boy is effected. This indicates these boys are hosts, and also that they don't know about the biological aspects, at the absolute least.

Who are these kids? Are they children who were exposed like Zenya was? If they knew about the cult, they probably wouldn't have freaked out in public, so they're uninitiated and possibly not experiencing any symptoms (IE the way Youji was?). Receiving purebreed flesh is the only way we really see discussed for becoming a host, but then how did Tetsuo develop? Do some people just inherit this from their parents?

Speaking of inheritance, Youji's situation introduces some questions too. He seems to have been physically passed along his father's parasite during the accident... like it entered his wound and this ultimately revived/remade him. Whether Youji was going to eventually develop into a host through inheriting that in a different way, had the accident never occurred, isn't discussed. In the pool, Youji can will himself to do the same for Tetsuo - so did his parasite enter Tetsuo? Taken with the state Youji is in during that epilogue, it's pretty vague what happened. But should we take that to mean that a new parasite melding into the body of a host can revive them?

We are given a decent idea of what Osu and Mesu are. But there seem to be others involved with the cult who aren't dealing with these same symptoms. Kamiya is around high school boys every day and not driving any of them mad. Kunihito couldn't see the Sodomites until after he was shot - even though his family were long time participants in the cult. Furthermore, had either of them been Osu, wouldn't they have been interested to learn of Youji the Mesu? So, are they hosts? Interestingly, there's a moment in the school with Kunihito that makes me really wonder. Kitani interacts with his boss, who is alive (even though narration from Youji earlier seemed to indicate Kunihito had died) for the moment. Then Kitani sees a wriggler entering a wound, and it seems to be attached firmly. He rips it away and shoots it, and then next thing you know, Kunihito is dead. Was that his parasite, keeping him alive, or a new Sodomite trying to enter as a parasite and then reform Kunihito's body? Did Kitani's actions here actually doom his boss?

Can you have a host and then lose it? Might Zenya's state have been fixed by removing the inner being? As a fierce believer, it's obvious why Kunihito wouldn't have opted to do that, though. But I feel like the grand ending suggests that Tetsuo has lost this aspect of himself in the epilogue. He takes a long time to heal, after all. Perhaps in wishing they could live together as humans, Youji caused their parasites to detach?

The whole situation with Youji is so bizarre. He's perpetually weak with a lung disorder, lives barely nourishing himself, and experiences numerous intense injuries over the course of like 2 weeks while undergoing debilitating physical changes. I get why, bereft of regenerative abilities, he would die at the end of the plot.

I think the violins version of Miracles May suggests Youji succeeds in saving Tetsuo at the cost of himself. And the grand ending seems to say that in rejecting the Sodomites, in not sacrificing himself for Tetsuo, Youji does not get his wish in full - he wants to live on with Tetsuo as humans, which I think only half works (Tetsuo managed to pull through after being wounded), and Tetsuo speaks his name one last time, but I don't think Youji is truly around anymore. But I feel like Tetsuo is a human at this point. And perhaps Youji died as a human, too. I just don't get why there was an attempt to cover up his passing? Like the scandal at the academy is already pretty bad, wouldn't it make enough sense to say two students stopped into the school that day and both were accosted by the yakuza and one of them perished? It seems like it's vague just to confuse the audience.

About the characters:

Was Makoto sensitive to the pheromones just cause he happened to be? Or like was it because he was attracted to men that the pheromone could harm him like that? Because I feel like either reading is supported by the text. At what point, removed from the impact of the pheromones, would Makoto regain his sanity? He seems himself when we see him in the hospital. But in his ending, a week has passed since Youji disappeared. We can't know how long it's been since only bones remain - like at what point will the Mesu pheromones no longer be present in Makoto's system? He seems to be still outside his own control at the close of his story.

On endings, it's pointed out that purebreeds can use pheromones to control even normal people. But the degree of *control* is something I wonder about. Like, Youji's pheromones elicited control over others, chaining them to a desire beyond their own sanity. But Youji isn't the one holding the leash, so to speak. Tetsuo's scent also caused this to happen to Youji. And like, the ending where they breed & the prominence of instinct in that route suggests that this final choice is something they submit to rather than a choice they make under their own rational control. So I wonder about the purebreeds ability to control others... is it an active ability, or does it elicit an instinctual response in others?

We see the lump of flesh that Kunihito worships, and from his uncle's journal we know he was once a captivating young man. But he "gave too much of himself to his followers" and now is a weakened flesh slab... Honestly this whole bit of the journal is super suspect. It's phrased like that was a thing the purebreed did of it's own volition, but I don't think we're supposed to accept that at face value. As more of it's flesh was taken, it became weaker - so weak, that members of the organization were sufficiently outside of it's "control" to act on a revolt. Up to that point, was the cult compelled to consume the purebreed's flesh, regardless of it's wishes, due to it's outrageous pheromones? Or did the purebreed willingly give of itself but go to far and tipped the balance of control outside it's own favor? Could the cult have failed at this moment, and prevented the events of the story from ever coming to pass? It seems like there are other purebreeds elsewhere in the world, though, or have been throughout history, so I don't know that the japanese branch falling would end the Sodomites' bid to live on.

Uncle Okinaga can't explain why he tried to protect the purebreed, only that he was compelled to do so in remembering the boy's smile. In one route, Kitani encounters the newborn purebreed. Is he a slave from this point on? Will Kitani end up feeding on the purebreed? It's an uncomfortable question I was left with.

Speaking of Kitani, I feel really mixed about him. On the one hand, he is sympathetic. His shit childhood leads to him forming a traumatic bond with Kunihito. This is actually one of the most upsetting moments of the game, for me! Lol moreso than the gore, tbh. He's at his lowest moment, his body is failing, and this powerful man comes and exerts that power over him through assault. Kitani's instincts take over (he struggles to live). Kunihito says, work for me, you might as well die for a purpose... It really mirrors what happens to Youji so strongly! Like, Youji's connection to Tetsuo is in many ways just the same as this - he is overpowered by Tetsuo, and in the horror of his changing biology, Youji finds that being accepted as he is to be worth the discomforting aspects of the bond. Kitani likewise accepts the worst aspects of the Okinaga family as the price for having a place and a people to belong to. It isn't a loyalty earned through goodness or affection. In the Diving Deep ending, Kitani is said to feel aimless and purposeless without his family, and it seems like he might not care about living any longer. We see in different endings Youji submit his own life to the cost of a 'higher purpose,' whether that be procreation or saving Tetsuo. Ultimately, I don't think either of these men really formed healthy attachments to others and it is worthy of sympathy.

On the other hand! Kitani has committed himself to the Okinaga family, to the point that his support of them is more instinctual than rational choice. He knows it's abnormal, but he still goes ahead and does the eyeball thing, supports Kunihito's religious fervor, never intervenes in anything they've got going on (until the point comes where outside forces - Kamiya - threaten his family). He feels horrible about hurting women and children, but he beats a high schooler on orders from Zenya, and helps Zenya kidnap Tetsuo and Youji. Like, I think he'd already looked into Youji's background at this point, so once Zenya's done with Youji for the time being, Kitani knowingly dumps this frail, frequently hospitalized boy who has just undergone a brutal beating in the trash disposal area of the house where he lives alone with no one to care for him. That is abhorrent. Then, he helps Zenya kidnap this same boy a second time, at which point the boy is kept as a sex slave. Kitani is not in the dark about this - he is an adult and knows both Kunihito and Zenya are mentally unstable, and that these actions are not only harmful or illegal, but seriously jeopardize Youji's life. And then, the real kicker? Zenya really loved it when Kitani sewed Kristi a lil yukata to match Zenya's outfit. So, Kitani dutifully makes his new pet, Youji, an outfit as well! I'm sure seeing Zenya so happy really made it all worth it, huh Kitani?

About my feelings:

So, I played this game at a point in time where I was actively on my period lol I still am right now as a matter of fact. And although I initially started it earlier before this was part of my life, in the interim time I had bariatric surgery and have developed a different relationship to food, hunger, my biology, and the often uncomfortable bowel changes that came with it.

It's horrible, but my partner didn't flinch away from the hard truths that came with major surgery. We've had to discuss diarrhea and incontinence and foul gas. Early on, there were days I thought I would die of embarrassment, but he loved me regardless. Thankfully, the biggest problems of the early days are mostly a thing of the past, but it's not something I'm liable to ever forget. I felt so bad for Youji, going through something that altered him intrinsically like that, with no one to support him. When he takes Tetsuo's actions to be unconditional acceptance of his mortifying biology, this leads Youji to bond with the man at the expense of his own being. He becomes subsumed into this bond. Had Erika's situation been different at the time, I don't think Youji would have clung to Tetsuo's lack of repulsion as if it were love.

Further, I felt a kinship to Youji's difficulty feeding himself that was absolutely absent the first time I played any of the game. Having been through a great deal of nausea, food repulsion, and experiencing my body at it's weakest, I was just as worried about his health as before but more sympathetic to the forces at play than last time.

As for the menstrual aspect, I can totally vibe with the idea that this bodily change is a repulsive, dirty, shame-inducing experience which alienates a person from their peers and from their own body. When I'm on my period, I do feel like my body is outside of my control, and knowing it's for a function (childbirth) isn't some welcome news. Like I have to put aside myself as an individual person (mind) to deal with the realities of my form (woman) for the time being, and it's jarring and uncomfortable. In this regard, I feel the reason vs instinct system is so well supported by the story's themes!

Also, uh, as someone who has experienced painful sex, anal sex, and painful anal sex in my life, the sex scenes were pretty intense to play through. Like the agony is well written and Youji's lack of consent is ever present. When he becomes aroused, it is not treated as if that is equivalent to consent, which I especially appreciated as this is something of a problem when it comes to discussing the rape of men in particular. Even when Youji is participating in sexual interaction, the way the biological aspect has been laid out, with the pheromones and everything, makes consent not really possible. While Youji comes to feel a bond with Tetsuo, it is due to their biology moreso than a romantic connection, and this seems like something borne from the need to mate rather than driven by who they are as *people.*

I do think it's interesting that this game is so focused on biological functions. The drive to breed, which in some species does indeed come at the expense of the parents' lives, is only one thread of this theme. The need to nourish oneself is definitely very present. And then digestion and expelling waste comes into play in a highly unusual way, lol. I found the mention of the myrmecoleon to be thematically resonant and perplexing at the same time. From Kamiya's comments, each half is biologically at odds with the other. I wondered how this was meant to be taken in conjunction with the story. Like, Youji doesn't eat, but he produces this new flesh and passes it - the flesh seeds are not a product of what he takes in. And it doesn't seem like not eating is enough to kill Youji based on what we see. But Kamiya's statement that maybe one end could survive if it would reject the other is kind of weird. You can read it as saying one part can survive - either the reasonable part of the being (the human) or the instinctual aspect (the parasite). There is no fusion of the two possible, no coexistence. It makes enough sense in regards to Youji, but it's a little confusing if you try to apply it to the Osu-Mesu pairing (two halves of a whole). I kind of felt that it was saying only one of the two could have their wishes fulfilled/their needs respected. Since Youji is getting raped all the time, I thought that's what Kamiya was getting at, at first. And if you take it to the breeding stuff, it is also confusing, Kamiya! What we see of their copulation, producing a purebreed is very much a matter of fusion, so it reads at odds with the myrmecoleon bit. If you see the lion and the ant as humans and Sodomites in their separate species, that's also kinda weird. I think its meant to represent that the hosts are these third kinds of beings - both ant and lion - and that their existence is at odds with both parts of their biology. It really leaves me wondering how the hosts and purebreeds thing is supposed to accomplish anything for the Sodomites. It's not clear what they're gaining from this, though it also isn't clear that any alternative is available to them. The drive to exist is strong enough that they must attempt to continue the species, no matter what indignities it requires, I guess?

Overall, I left the game feeling very unsettled (the music is SO effective, omfg) and on edge. Hopefully having written out my thoughts will help me to move on from sweet pool!! Can't really say I'm glad I played it - I was curious about how it related to omegaverse and it was indeed fascinating to see the root of those tropes being developed - but it didn't do anything for me in that doki-doki kind of way and left me more agitated than moved by its emotional stuff. I do think it was very well written, and well conceived, and well produced. I'd love to talk about it with other people, though I doubt I'd ever play it again or be likely to recommend it.

Thanks for reading this crazy long post :3

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

I have a question for you that is tangentially related to some of your recent posts. I remember reading a while ago that the term "fish" is somewhat controversial for taxonomists because of how many animals are fish and (I think) that what are generally considered fish don't fit in a single clade without including all other tetrapods (and maybe also vertebrates) (on a related note, I'm pretty sure the same is true for trees but without the controversy). Do you know if I my memory is correct and, if so, where do you stand on the controversy. I'm assuming you'd be pro-"fish" as a term. Also very sorry if this doesn't make sense. I tried my best but I feel that it may still be confusing. Also have a great day! (And happy late/early birthday to your spouse! (you have one of those I think))

Hello! (Spouse's bday is Feb 12 :) so veeeery early and he's scared of turning 32 so)

so we have to do a little history of science here

"fish" is a term that existed before science, or at least, modern science. it basically meant "aquatic organism". it wasn't a relational term, so we didn't treat it like one

then Linnaeus, annoying taxonomist from whom we will never escape, decided that "fish" meant, specifically, certain types of aquatic vertebrates: Chondrichthyes, Actinopterygii, and Sarcopterygii without tetrapods

so, for most biologists for the past three hundred years, "fish" has meant Aquatic Non-Tetrapod Vertebrate

so the whole thing with "jellyfish" and "starfish" isn't really relevant to the discussion because they were already thrown out of the fish group to begin with

now, we are trying to use cladistics instead of Linnaeus bc linnaeus' system doesn't work for fossil organisms

which means we group organisms based on descent, not traits

which means tetrapods, which descended specifically from lobe-finned fish

are lobe-finned fish

so, we have the situation where whales were fish (pre linnaeus, aquatic organism) and then weren't (mammals aren't fish) and then are again (mammals are fish)

the people who say "fish aren't real" are ignoring that important middle step where scientists decided that fish was just a vertebrate term; they're acting like "jellyfish" and "starfish" are still considered fish when they haven't been for 300 years

so, yeah. I'm pro fish. much of tetrapod anatomy is only explicable when you remember we are fish. but, ultimately, I'm not going to correct people on that one

alternatively, we just start calling everything actinopterygiian or sarcopterygiian or chondrichthyan or whatever. I doubt people will get behind that though

yeah I wish the history of science was taught better bc a lot of these discussions would become sooooo much more streamlined

[mr-aftons-rotting-pussy]

GRAH!! okay what kind of bothers me with SL discussions is that ppl talk abt Curcus Baby's dual personality thing as if its completely unique to her/elizabeth which it is in a sense if were talking purely about presentation. but i feel like ppl also forget like.......... fnaf1 and so on, like yeah its not explicity implied until the puppets lines in UCN but the way the animatronics behave and whatever..... and also coughs in the general direction of fazbear frights****

anyways like its COOL its very cool and interesting and Elizabeths case rlly brings this to light but its not necessarily NEW or even specific to the funtimes i feel,,,,

[mangocheesecakeicecream]

On the "masculine" side of the diagram, Lacan wrote a formula generally read as "All men are subjected to the phallic function." On the "feminine" side, he wrote a formula generally read as: "Not all of a woman is subject to the phallic function." The difference is that whereas men can be discussed as a class, there is no set of "all women." Lacan believed that while women were a part of the phallic or symbolic order, they were not in it "all together." Thus, he would describe woman as pas tout [not all]. We know that women historically have been kept out of the symbolic order. We could also say that there is something about woman that resists it. The lower half of the sexuation diagram shows the "feminine" side having access to two libidinal positions, while the "masculine" side has access to one only. Thus any given "woman" can choose to associate with the phallic function, or with the "signifier of the barred Other"- a way of describing the jouissance that is beyond the phallus. Again, if these distinctions appear outrageously subtle and abstract, they at least have the virtue of not trapping us into neo- Confucian paradigms according to which man is rational; woman, emotional- paradigms surface endlessly in popular psychology. Lacan also made it clear in explicating the diagram of sexuation that he was not simply placing biological males on one side and biological females on the other. As he explained, referring to the "feminine" side: "Any speaking being whatsoever, as is expressly formulated in Freudian theory, whether provided with the attributes of masculinity -attributes that remain to be determined- or not, is allowed to inscribe itself in this part" (S XX, p.80). How do the two sides relate to each other? How does desire move within and across the divide of sexuation? Ellie Ragland has suggested beautifully: "Heterosexual or homosexual, we are drawn to each other sexually because we are not whole and because we are not the same."

Deborah Luepnitz

[opheliaintherushes]

I told myself I was done tormenting my kind and non-Riverdale-watching mutuals, and besides, I am too old and weathered for this fandom anyway, but really, the final, final thoughts on this finale and season as a whole:

First, and separately, does anything that happened after the characters got their memories back make sense? What was the point of it? They seemed completely unaffected by anything and happy to roleplay 50s teens. Were they even teens? Were they twenty-somethings sticking around high school like the vampires from Twilight for no explicable reason? Also, I'm sorry if you want to play the sentimental card, but if I was one of a handful of people who had traveled back in time and was stuck living in the past for 60 years or what have you, I would not lose contact with the others who also had. You would go insane! What did Archie tell his Modesto wife and child? Was Veronica picking up options on scripts she already knew would win Oscars? Did Jughead and Betty rewrite old issues of Mad and Ms. they might have read in the past? And is Gloria Steinem okay??? Also Betty and Jughead should remember they kind of hated each other in the future after the cheating and the voicemail, and Veronica should be so jealous of Betty for getting Archie, and Jughead should be so jealous of Archie for getting Betty, and my brain is hurting -

Almost more irritating were a) this idea that Archies are fundamentally stuck in the 50s (I owned the decade collections as a kid and the 60s and 70s were by far my favorites - very groovy), and b) the presumption that they did anything to address, expose, and or/fix actual problems of the 50s. Let us recap:

The school is already desegregated and this is never, ever discussed. The Black students are allowed to compete in beauty pageants, form their own literary club, dance on an integrated TV show, and join cheerleader squads, and this all happens with zero fight from the villains of the season. Fake Ray Bradbury and Fake Ray Bradbury's sweet but stupid wife think they could have settled in the south as a married couple in the forties. But? This is Riverdale, you say? They fixed everything? Sorry, you don't get to use Emmett Till to open the season and then eat your cake too.

Homophobia seemed to be the writers focus this season - except that every other episode someone would threaten Cheryl or Kevin, and then the next episode it would be an open secret at school with zero repercussions. Also, of course only the bad guys are homophobic (sorry Evelyn); our heroes are as forward thinking as they come. Hell, even Buffy had a moment to be wigged out by Willow and this was 1999! Anyway, look up what Lou Reed's parents did to him ('don't you know they're gonna kill your sons')

Let us not even discuss Reggie, who conquers racism through the power of athletics. Look up Richie Allen. Heck, watch the actual School Ties. It doesn't work out so well for David Greene in the end.

And then there's Fangs and Midge: first, rock and roll was seen as a huge menace, Fangs should've been on the school's hit list. Second, the writers obviously never read up on rock and rollers (who were generally older) and teen girls if they thought that was a good storyline. Third, they definitely never read any memoirs written by women in the 1950s, which all feature back alley abortions, slimy lovers, and shady doctors. (We don't even have time to get into Betty's idea of feminism being about sex all the time, everywhere, and becoming a burlesque dancer rather than, like, equal pay. Who knows, maybe she could have been the one harping on non-stop about the Beats and seen the cold face of her future there).

They didn't change anything. EC (sorry, Pep Comics) shut down. The Comics Code Authority won. So apparently all those artists who never worked again were just fine, right Tabitha?

[theculturedmarxist]

U.S. foreign policy has set the country on a course destined to lead to a world of rivalry, strife and conflict into the foreseeable future. Washington has declared “war” on China, on Russia, on whomever partners with them.

That “war” is comprehensive — diplomatic, financial, commercial, technological, cultural, ideological. It implicitly fuses a presumed great power rivalry for dominance with a clash of civilizations: the U.S.-led West against the civilizational states of China, Russia and potentially India.

Direct military action is not explicitly included but armed clashes are not absolutely precluded. They can occur via proxies as in Ukraine. They can be sparked by Washington’s dedication to bolster Taiwan as an independent country.

A series of formal defense reviews confirm statements by the most senior U.S. officials and military commanders that such a conflict is likely within the decade. Plans for warfighting are well advanced. This feckless approach implicitly casts the Chinese foe as a modern-day Imperial Japan despite the catastrophic risks intrinsic to a war between nuclear powers.

The extremity of Washington’s overreaching, militarized strategy intended to solidify and extend its global dominance is evinced by the latest pronouncement of required war-fighting capabilities.

Recommendations just promulgated by the congressional bipartisan Strategic Posture Commission include developing and fielding “homeland integrated air and missile defenses that can deter and defeat coercive attacks by Russia and China, and determine the capabilities needed to stay ahead of the North Korean threat.”

They were endorsed by former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Gen. Mark Milley in his post-retirement interview where he proposed adding up to $1 trillion to the current defense budget in order to create the requisite capabilities.

President Joe Biden, in his weekend interview on 60 Minutes, reiterated the dominating outlook with buoyant optimism:

“We’re the United States of America, for God’s sake!; the most powerful nation in the history of the world.”

This is the same country whose war-fighting record since 1975 is one win, two draws and four losses — or five losses if we include Ukraine. (That tabulation excludes Granada which was a sort of scrimmage). Moreover, the U.S. stock of 155mm artillery ammunition is totally exhausted – as is that of its allies.

No Discussion

This historic strategic judgment is heavily freighted with the gravest implications for the security and well-being of the United States — and will shape global affairs in the 21st century.

Yet, it has been made in the total absence of serious debate in the country-at-large, in Congress, within the foreign policy community, in the media and — most astonishing — at the highest levels of the government as well.

The last lapse is evinced by the superficiality of the statements issued by Biden, Secretary of State Antony Blinken, National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan, Vice President Kamala Harris, Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin, Milley and their associates.

We have heard nothing in the way of a sober, rigorous explication of why and how China or Russian poses so manifest a threat as to dictate committing ourselves to an all-out confrontation.

Nor do we hear mention of alternative strategies, their pluses and minuses, nor are there candid expositions of the costs that will be incurred in their implementation. Most certainly, silence reigns as to what happens if this audacious, all-or-nothing strategy fails — in whole or in part.

The stunning rise of China along with the reemergence of Russia as a formidable power are developments apparent to attentive observers for quite some time.

For Russia, the landmark dates can be identified.

Russian Milestones

The first was Russian President Vladimir Putin’s speech to the Munich Security Conference in 2007. There, he made clear his rejection of the Western script that relegated Russia to a subordinate position in a world system organized according to principles and interests defined largely by the United States.

Whether fashioned as neo-liberal globalization or, practically speaking, American hegemony, it was unacceptable. Instead, Putin set forth the twin concepts of multipolarity and multilateralism. While emphasizing the sovereign status and legitimate interest of all states, his vision did not foresee conflict or implacable rivalry. Rather, it was envisaged demarcating international dealings as a collective enterprise that aimed at mutual gain based on mutual respect for each other’s identity and core interests.

Washington, though, interpreted it otherwise. In their minds, Putin had thrown a monkey wrench into the project of fashioning a globalized world overseen by the United States and its partners.

President George W. Bush’s administration made the judgment that an irksome Russia should be fenced-in and its influence curbed. That objective animated the campaign to bring Ukraine and Georgia into NATO, the sponsorship of the doomed Georgian attack on disputed South Ossetia, on the attempt to block the building of a new gas pipeline from Russia to Germany and on setting strict terms for commercial exchanges.

It culminated in the 2014 Maidan coup in Kiev and the bolstering of Ukraine as a power that could keep Russia in its place. The rest of that story we know.

Then, the image of Putin as a diabolical Machiavellian who works relentlessly to cripple the U.S. was given a thick layer of varnish by the Russiagate charade — a scheme concocted by presidential aspirant Hillary Clinton and her allies in order to explain how she could lose an election against somebody who started the fall campaign with a personal unfavorable poll rating of 67 percent.

The Chinese Challenge

The confrontation with China is not marked by equally clear events or decision points. Designation of China as the challenger to the U.S. position as global supremo crystallized more gradually.

It was the Middle Kingdom’s growing strength in every dimension of national power and capacity that stirred first anxiety and then fear. This challenging rival had become a threat to the foundational belief in U.S. exceptionalism and superiority. Hence, an existential threat in the truest sense.

(“This town ain’t big enough for both of us!” is a familiar line to Americans for the way it punctuates showdowns in hundreds of Westerns. Now it has spilled into foreign policy as a neat summation of Washington’s attitude toward Beijing. Instead, how about inviting the other guy for a drink at the Long Branch and a long talk? Dutch treat.)

The string of disputes over this or that issue were symptoms rather than the cause of the antagonism mixed with dread that has led the U.S. to treat China as a mortal foe. When we look at the chronology of events, it becomes evident that the U.S. bill of indictment does not come close to justifying that conclusion.

The fashionable — now official — view is that it’s all China’s fault.

President Xi Jinping & Co supposedly spurned the opportunity to join the outward-looking community of liberal nations; they have grown increasingly repressive at home — thereby, disqualifying themselves from partnership with the democracies; they have been aggressive in pushing their territorial claims in the South China Sea; they have not composed their differences with neighbors, most importantly Japan; and they have deviated from the Western (i.e. American line) toward Iran while mediating a modus vivendi with Saudi Arabia.

Closer to home, China is accused of operating extensive spying networks in the United States designed to purloin valuable high technology; of systematically manipulating commercial dealings to their advantage; and they are extending their cultural influence in a porous American society.

In this bill of indictment no reference is made to dubious actions by the United States. Washington’s record as a global citizen is less than impeccable. Specifically in reference to China, it is Washington that made what are by far the most provocative moves.

Let’s recall the jailing of Huawei’s CFO in Vancouver at the Trump White House’s insistence on specious grounds (violation of Washington’s own illegal sanctions campaign against Iran) in order to thwart the company’s success in becoming a dominant player in the IT field. Former President Donald Trump himself admitted as much in stating that the United States might refrain from pursuing her prosecution were China ready to concede to his demands in the bilateral trade negotiations.

The ultimate provocation has been the series of steps in regard to Taiwan that signaled clearly Washington’s intention to prevent its integration into the PRC. Thereby, it crossed the most indelible of red lines — one that the United States itself had helped draw and had observed for half a century. It is tantamount to an Old Europe aristocrat slapping another in the face with his gloves in public. An unmistakable invitation to a duel that precludes negotiation, mediation or compromise.

Not Just a Rival

The United States finds it far easier to deal with manifest enemies, e.g. the U.S.S.R., than sharing the international stage with countries that match it in strength whatever degree of threat it poses to American national security.

The latter is far harder for Americans to handle — emotionally, intellectually, diplomatically.

Hence, the growing tendency to characterize China as not just a rival for global influence but as a menace. That results in a caricature of China’s ambitions and a downplaying of prospects for fostering a working relationship among rough equals.

An enormous amount of energy is being put into this delusional enterprise. The target is America itself. The project is a bizarre form of conversion therapy designed to substitute a confected version of reality for the irksome real thing.

Stunning evidence of this self-administered treatment is available on a routine basis in the pages of The New York Times. Every day we are treated to two or three long stories about what’s wrong with China, its trials and tribulations. No occurrence is too recondite or distant to be exempt from being used in an exaggerated diagnosis of social or political illness. The extremes to which the editors go in this re-education program is pathological.

The threat China presents is to an exalted self-image more than to any tangible interests. At its root, the problem is psychological.

By time that the Biden administration arrived in office, the scene had been set for the declaration of war and the taking of concrete steps in that direction. But it’s odd that such a momentous commitment should be made by such a lackluster team of individuals with a diminished, distracted president as its nominal head. That can be attributed to two factors.

First is the dogmatic worldview of the principals. Their outlook represents an absorption of Paul Wolfowitz’s notorious memo of 1992 laying out a manifold strategy for consolidating and extending U.S. world dominance in perpetuity.

Second is the neocon passion to shape other countries in the U.S. image. That blend was laced with a dash of old-fashioned Wilsonian idealism along with a drizzle of humanitarianism from the Responsibility to Protect movement (R2P).

[Related: Chris Hedges: R2P Caused Libya’s Nightmare]

This potent brew had become orthodoxy for nearly all of the U.S. foreign policy community. In addition, a rudimentary version has gained the adherence of the political class and has shaped the thinking of Congress to whatever extent its members do any thinking about external relations beyond habitual resort to convenient hackneyed slogans.

Alternative No. 1

Objectively speaking, alternatives did exist.

The first we might call inertial ad-hocism. Its features would have been the continued segmentation of the country’s external dealings into more-or-less discrete packets — geographical and functional.

The Middle East’s two sub-categories: Israel and the Gulf; the desultory “War On Terror” wherever; the aggressive promotion of neo-liberal globalization featuring the ensconcing of a heteroclite corporate/technocratic/political elite as guides and overseers; bilateral relations with new economic powers like India and Brazil to bring them into the neo-liberal orbit; business-as-usual with the rest of the Global South.

As for China and Russia, one would be treated as a formidable rival and the other as an overreaching nuisance to be stymied in places in Syria and Central Asia. Concrete steps to counteract the Chinese commercial and technological challenge would have been taken either unilaterally or in hard-nosed direct bargaining. Support for Taiwan would have increased but stopped short of ruffling Beijing’s feathers by calling into question the One-China Principle.

The foundational premise of this approach is that an ever-deepening neo-liberal system would pull China into its field as a politico-economic centrifugal magnet. Hence, by an incremental process a potential challenge to American-Western hegemony would be gradually neutralized, avoiding a direct confrontation.

Russia, for its part, could be treated more roughly: the post-2014 sanctions tightened, its approaches in Syria and on other matters rebuffed and the quiet build-up of Ukraine continued. This, in essence, was the tack taken by former President Barack Obama and Trump.

Today’s uniform assumption that a momentous battle with the Chinese is written in the stars, the culmination of a zero-sum rivalry for global dominance, is of relatively recent vintage.

Not so long ago, the consensus was that the most sensible strategy composed two elements.

The first was peaceful engagement emphasizing economic interdependence leading to China’s participation in a more-or-less orderly world system whose rules-of-the-road might have to undergo some modification but where power politics was restrained and contained.

(Regarding the restructuring of existing international organizations, the IMF stands out. Since its post-war founding, the United States has held veto power over any or all of its actions. It adamantly refuses to relinquish it despite the drastic shifts in the constellation of global financial and monetary power. Hence, the IMF serves as a de facto subsidiary of the State Department. This state of affairs soon will prove absolutely unacceptable to China and the BRICs.)

The second was a measure of military balancing to remove any temptation as might exist in Beijing for empire-building while reassuring neighbors. The open question focused on exactly where and how the balance should be struck.

That was the prevailing perspective until roughly the second Obama administration. These days, that approach has lost its place in the mainstream of foreign policy discourse. There is no fixed day or event, though, that marks the abrupt and sharp change of course.

This disjointed incremental line of approach has its advantages despite its leaning toward conflict. Paramount is that it avoids locking the United States into a position of implacable hostility vis a vis China. There is no embedded logic propelling us toward armed conflict. It implicitly leaves open the possibility of U.S. thinking moving in a more positive direction.

Whatever the odds of such an evolution occurring, and on the arrival in the White House of a president with the bold vision of a true statesman, such a development would not be excluded as it is by the current mobilization for generational “war.”

Alternative No. 2

There is another, radical alternative grounded on the belief that it is feasible to fashion a long-term strategy of nurturing ties of cooperation with Russia and China. Taking some form of partnership, it would be grounded on a mutual commitment to the maintenance of political stability and fashioning mechanisms for conflict avoidance. This is by no means as far fetched as first glance might suggest — in concept.

The idea of a great power concert comes to mind. However, we should envisage an arrangement quite different from the historic Concert of Europe that emerged at the Conference of Vienna in the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars.

One, the objective would not be a buttressing of the status quo by the dual strategy of refraining from armed conflict among the underwriting states and suppressing revolutionary movements that could endanger existing monarchies. Its attendant features were the concentration of custodial power in the Big 5 co-managers of the system; the stifling of political reform across Europe; and the disregard of forces appearing outside their purview.

By contrast, a contemporary partnership among the major powers would presume a responsibility for taking the lead in designing a global system based on the mutually reinforcing tenets of openness, sovereign equality and the promotion of policies that deliver plus-sum outcomes.

Rather than rule by a directorate, international affairs would be structured by international institutions modified in terms of philosophy, multilateral decision-making and a measure of devolution that empowers regional bodies.  There would be an established pattern of consultation among those governments whose economic weight and military capacity quite naturally should be expected to play an informal role in performing system maintenance functions and facilitating the involvement of other states. Legitimacy would be established through conduct and performance.

The drastic fall in respect for U.S. world leadership will facilitate that process — as the BRICs’ successes already demonstrate.

The crucial starting point for such a project is a meeting of the minds among Washington, Beijing and Moscow — accompanied by dialogue with New Delhi, Brasilia et al.

There is reason to believe that conditions, objectively speaking, have been conducive to an undertaking of this order for several years. However, it was never recognized in the West, much less seriously considered — an historic opportunity lost.

“The threat China presents is to an exalted self-image more than to any tangible interests. At its root, the problem is psychological.”

The most significant sufficient factor is the temper of Chinese and Russian leadership. Xi and Putin are rare leaders. They are sober, rational, intelligent, very well informed and capable of broad vision.

(China’s traditional goal always has been to exact deference from other countries while bolstering their own strength — not to impose an imperium on them. Much less do they share the American impulse to arrange the affairs of the entire world according to a universalization of their own unique civilization.  Therein lies an opportunity to avoid a “war of transition.”

However, there is no American leader on the horizon who recognizes this overarching reality and who seems prepared to grasp the opportunity to “bend the arc of history.”  Obama briefly toyed with the idea — before relapsing into the stale rhetoric of American exceptionalism: “We’re number One — you better believe it. Nobody else is even close!”)

While dedicated to securing their national interests, above all the well-being of their peoples, neither Xi nor Putin harbor imperial ambitions. And both have long tenures as heads of state. They have the political capital to invest in a project of this magnitude and prospective. Washington, unfortunately, has not had leaders of similar character and talents.

As for U.S. allies, no counsel of restraint can be expected from that quarter. Those loyal vassals have moved from being craven irrelevancies to active, if junior, partners in crime.

An Odious Spectacle

It is stomach-churning to observe the leaders of Europe lining up for slap-on-the-back meetings with Bibi Netanyahu in Tel Aviv while he inflicts atrocities on Gazans. Barely a word of concern for 2 million civilians, just the hurried dispatch of more weapons diverted from the Ukrainian killing fields.  This odious spectacle was eclipsed by Biden’s disgraceful performance this week in Jerusalem.

Summit meetings by Bush, Obama, Trump or Biden always have concentrated on either small-bore issues or instruction on what their opposite number should be doing so as to conform to the U.S. view of the world. Both are wastes of precious time insofar as the imperative to foster a long-term, common global perspective is concerned.

The sensible approach to inaugurate a serious dialogue might be a president with statesmanlike qualities who sits down alone with Putin and Xi for an open-ended session and asks such questions as: “What do you want, President Putin/President XI? How do you see the world 20 years from now and your country’s place in it?”

Would they be prepared to expound an articulate response?  Putin certainly would. That is exactly what he has been proposing since 2007 — on numerous occasions vocally or in his writings.  Instead, he was stonewalled, and — since 2014 — treated as a menacing pariah to be defamed and personally insulted.

Here is Barack Obama’s take:

“The Russian President is a ‘physically unremarkable’ man, likened to ‘the tough, street-smart ward bosses who used to run the Chicago machine.”

This comment from Obama’s first volume of his published memoirs, The Promised Land, says more about his own inflated yet vulnerable ego than Putin’s character.

In fact, it was the Chicago machine along with money and encouragement from the Pritzker network that made Obama what he became.

Contrast: when Bismarck met Disraeli at the 1878 Berlin Conference — going so far as to invite him, a Jew, home twice for meals — he did not nag the British prime minister about trade restrictions on German exports of textiles and metallurgical goods or the systematic British abuse of tea plantation workers in Assam.

Nor did he comment on the man’s physique. Bismarck was a serious statesman, unlike the people in whose custody we place the security and well-being of our nations.

The upshot is that Putin and Xi seem puzzled by feckless Western counterparts who disregard the elementary precepts of diplomacy. That should be a concern as well — except by those who intend to conduct the U.S. “war” in a linear manner that pays little attention to the thinking of other parties.

The vitriol that is thrown at Putin with such vehemence by his Western counterparts is something of a puzzle. It is manifestly disproportionate to anything that he has done or said by any reasonable measure — even if one distorts the underlying story of Ukraine.

Obama’s condescension suggests an answer. At its core, their attitude reflects envy. Envy in the sense that he is subconsciously recognized as clearly superior in attributes of intelligence, knowledge of contemporary issues and history, articulateness, political savvy and – most certainly – diplomatic skill.

Try to imagine any U.S. leader emulating Putin’s performance in holding three-hour open Q & A sessions with citizens of all stripes — responding directly, in detail, coherently and with good grace. Biden? Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau? German Chancellor Olaf Scholz? British Prime Minister Rishi Sunak? French President Emmanual Macron? Ursula von der Leyen, president of the EU Commission? Estonia’s Prime Minister Kaja Kallis?

Even Obama, from whom we’d get canned sermons cast in high-minded language that distills into very little. That’s why the West’s political class assiduously avoids paying attention to Putin’s speeches and press conferences — out of sight, out of mind.

Act in reference to the make-believe cartoon instead of the real man.

The Ukraine Era

These days, in the Ukraine era, the rigid Washington consensus is that Vladimir Putin is the quintessential brutal dictator — power mad, ruthless and with only a tenuous grip on reality.

Indeed, it has become commonplace to equate him with Hitler — as done by such leading lights of the U.S. power elite as Hillary Clinton and former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi along with “opinion makers” galore. Even 203 noble Nobels lend their collective brains and celebrity credentials to an “open letter” whose second sentence pairs Russia’s attack on Ukraine with Hitler’s assault on Poland in September 1939.

Sadly, the idea that those who make those decisions should bother to know what they are talking about is widely deemed as radical if not subversive.

In regard to Putin, there is absolutely no excuse for such painful ignorance. He has presented his views on how Russia visualizes its place in the world, relations with the West and the contours/rules of a desired international system more comprehensively, historically informed and coherently than has any national leader I know of.  Shouted declarations “we’re No. 1 and always will be – you better believe it” (Obama) are not his style.

The point is that you may be troubled by his conclusions, question his sincerity, suspect hidden strands of thought, or denounce certain actions. However, doing so has no credibility unless one has engaged the man based on what is available — not on cartoon caricatures. So, too, should we recognize that Russia is not a one-man show, that it behooves us to consider the more complex reality that is Russian governance and politics.

President Xi of China has escaped the personal vilification thrown at Putin — so far.  But Washington has made no greater effort to engage him in the sort of discourse about the future shape of Sino-American relations and the world system for which they are destined to be primary joint custodians.

Xi is more elusive than Putin. He is far less forthright, more guarded and embodies a political culture very different from that of the United States or Europe. Still, he is no dogmatic ideologue or power-mad imperialist. Cultural differences too easily can become an excuse for avoiding the study, the pondering and the exercise in strategic imagination that is called for. 

Shaping the World Structure

The approach outlined above is worth the effort – and low costs that it entails. For it is the understandings among the three leaders (and their senior colleagues) that are of the utmost importance.

That is to say, agreed understandings as to how they view the shape and structure of world affairs, where their interests clash or converge, and how to meet the dual challenge of 1) handling those points of friction that may arise, and 2) working together to perform ‘system maintenance’ functions in both the economic and security realms.

At the moment, there is no chance that American leaders can muster the gumption, or have the vision, to set out on this course. Neither Biden and his team, nor their Republican rivals are up to it.

In truth, American leaders are psychologically and intellectually not capable of thinking seriously about the terms for sharing power with China, with Russia or with anybody else – and developing mechanisms for doing so over different timeframes.

Washington is too preoccupied with parsing the naval balance in East Asia to reflect on broad strategies. Its leaders are too complacent about the deep faults in our economic structures, and too wasteful in dissipating trillions on chimerical ventures aimed at exorcising a mythical enemy to position ourselves for a diplomatic undertaking of the sort that a self-centered America never before has faced.

A drive to revalidate its presumed virtue and singularity now impels what the U.S. does in the world. Hence, the calculated stress placed on slogans like “democracy versus autocracy.” That is a neat metaphor for the uneasy position in which Uncle Sam finds himself these days, proudly pronouncing enduring greatness from every lectern and altar in the land, pledging to uphold a standing as global No. 1 forever and ever.

But the U.S. is also constantly bumping its head against an unaccommodating reality. Instead of downsizing the monumental juggernaut or applying itself to a delicate raising of the arch, it makes repeated attempts to fit through in a vain effort to bend the world to fit its mythology. Invocation of the Concussion Protocol is in order — but nobody wants to admit that sobering truth.

This is close to a condition that approximates what the psychologists call “dissociation.”  It is marked by an inability to see and to accept actualities as they are for deep-seated emotional reasons.  

The tension generated for a nation so constituted when encountering objective reality does not force heightened self-awareness or a change in behavior if the dominant feature of that reality is the attitudes and expressed opinions of others who share the underlying delusions.

Michael Brenner is a professor of international affairs at the University of Pittsburgh. [email protected]

[warpedlegacywrites]

Writing Forum Prompt - Subtext

Second week's prompt from @nirikeehan's forum series.

Write two very short examples of text (250 words or less), in which the true meaning of the action or dialogue is hidden in a subtext. Under each text, write a sentence or two that explicates the subtext. Objective: To learn to use indirection to illustrate the power of hidden meaning. This is something like a double exposure – a photograph that shows two images simultaneously.

First Entry: Bull and Solas

Solas: How you can drink that with a smile is beyond me. Bull: Not a tea drinker, Solas? Solas: No, thank you. It is not to my tastes. Bull: Yeah, I guess it’s not everyone’s cuppa tea. Heh. Get it? Solas: Yes, very clever. Bull: Hard to blame you. I’ll bet you’ve mostly had shitty tavern stuff - brewed in a hurry and not flavoured at all. Drank more out of necessity than real appetite. Have you ever tried the stuff coming out of Orlais? Give ya a whole new perspective on life. Solas: What concern is it of yours whether or not I drink tea? Bull: Just don’t want you missing out because of lackluster past experience is all. Don’t judge a whole flavour on a single cup. You strike me as a jasmine man. I could hook you up. Solas: I… appreciate the thought. I think. But I am really not interested in having this discussion at the moment. And it’s really none of your business what drinks I do or do not imbibe. Bull: Alright, consider it dropped. Bull: (muttered out of earshot) Probably wouldn’t be so grumpy if you’d had a cup of tea by now.

Subtext: Solas thinks Bull is talking about the Qun. Bull is talking about sex.

Second Entry: Varric and Cassandra

Cassandra: You’re back. Varric: You’re… here. Cassandra: You thought I’d be out? Varric: Yeah? I heard you were gonna be at the training grounds all morning. Cassandra: It’s pouring out. Varric: Never stopped you before. Cassandra: Well, someone used to always nag me about getting sick. Varric: …Right. Well, I can’t really stay. I just came back to grab— Cassandra: —Bianca? She’s right where you left her. Varric: So I see. Cassandra: You expected otherwise? Varric: I’ve seen you stab books with abandon. Couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t… I don’t know. Cassandra: Is that what you think of me? Varric: Cass, I didn’t mean— Cassandra: —Stop calling me that. Varric: …Sure. Seeker. I wasn’t trying to… Well. Guess it doesn’t matter. Cassandra: (scoffs) Of course not. Why should anything you do matter? Then you’d have to actually care. Or Maker forbid, face the consequences. Varric: (heavy sigh) Yeah okay. Make me the bad guy. Cassandra: You do that well enough without my help. Varric: This is exactly why I waited until I thought you were out… Cassandra: To avoid facing the consequences? Varric: To avoid a fight. And you’re not— Cassandra: Enough. Just leave. And take your ridiculous infatuation with you. Varric: …Yeah. Alright Seeker. Guess I’ll be seeing ya. Cassandra: (says nothing further)

Subtext: This is how I imagine Varric and Cassandra’s brief romantic entanglement ending - not with a bang but with a whimper. Mostly because of Varric’s inability to truly move past his feelings for Bianca.

[summerfyre]

Trust your death

In staff conferences we often found ourselves saying of such and such a client and her imagery, as we discussed her progress in her experience, that it sounded very much like a culture change that this person was undergoing. A staff member would exclaim, "Yes! That is w at she is saying to us—that she's aware of going through a cultural change and a transition into something new." I am left with the convic¬ tion that changes on this level constitute the keynote of what is transpiring m the visionary process of the acute episode. I will attempt to explicate just how, as I envision it, that shift comes about and what it seems to imply about how such transformation is effected, and about what it is in the psyche that drives the process.

Diabasis was founded on the premise that the psyche knows what it is intendmg. Our staff members were not all particularly Jungian in persuasion and did not belong to any one school of thought. Yet we all agreed on the point that the psyche was up to its own devices and that we would do well to give heed to its expressions and encourage them, respond to them and help them do their work. The best one can do is to follow the lead that the psyche provides. The unconventional aspect of this view is that with cases of extremely disturbed and confused states of mind, it is still true that the psyche's way can be trusted to reveal its own modes of achieving its own ends, that is, by pis myth-making process^

For most psychiatrists the difficulty is that the psyche's way of expressing itself is so unusual that we find ourselves having to speak in an entirely unaccustomed language and frame of thought. In the alternative view, the concept of the acute "psychosis" is that, when we speak of a self-healing process, we do not mean that the faults to be healed are these unusual expressions of the devices the psyche uses to attain its goals. Instead, the problems needing solution are in the limita¬ tions of the personality prevailing before the episode; the psyche is (tiymg to break free from constrictions^ from a markedly negative self- image, a rather impoverished world outlook, and an unsuitable cultural set. The upheaval takes place in those persons whose nature cannot tolerate such limitations. The visionary devices set in motion by the psyche therefore do not constitute the disorder or pathology. In the turmoil the psyche's process is not what needs healing, but rather, the healing is accomplished by the "psychotic" process itself. The way we regard the disturbance, theft determines how it is going to fare, whether toward success or failure.

The ("healing power of nature/7] which used to be called the vis mediatrix naturae, is of the essence when we are considering the ques¬ tion of a self-organizing process. The best medicine in medieval times, deriving from more ancient eras, followed the way of nature to move through a disease process; one did not oppose the disease process but worked with the organism's endowments. In our age of mastery and technology, we tend to forget this philosophy and to take control and authority into medical hands with die techniques of medical science. In the way alternative approaches are advocating now, we are obliged to assume a more humble stance and relate to the remedial ways of nature, not allowing ourselves to feel that they must be overcome or driven out.

[…]

Many persons today have had experiences of various kinds of altered states of consciousness, whether in meditation or at least in dreams, and have emerged from them with a new recognition of the character of the world, whether of nature or the spirit. In the deepest of such states, one spins out an original myth-form, describing the interior dynamics of one's most profound motivations.

[…]

On this account, "interpreting" any such image is not quite to the point; it is more helpful to encourage the expectation that the image will keep unfolding its meaning as it participates in an ongoing process, especially in a very active acute "psychosis." For example, when someone enters upon the episode feeling that she is dying and that she is back at the beginning of time, I see the death image as almost always signifying the death of the limited state of being, of the previous state of the ego, or of the insufficient personality. It is an appalling experience to undergo when it actually is a "death trip." The expression is no mere simile or figure of speech; it is an actual coming to the end of something and not knowing at all what is ahead. One only knows that one is simply losing many familiar ways to which one has become accustomed, having no idea what is going to appear to replace them. Hence the experience really is like death, but it concerns the self-image, and hand in hand with that it becomes also the death of the world-image.

[…]

In reading the history of these cults and the transformations of the culture, one finds that these leaders went through experiences that today we would diagnose clinically as "acute psychosis." Yet such prophets would emerge from their trance with the myth that had been in the process of formation during those weeks (usually six, i.e., forty days) and the process would then be acknowledged as visions demonstrating the giftedness of such persons and their myth-making capacities.

Our clients are, of course, not necessarily potential prophets or reformers, but the underlying process is the same as theirs. The acute episode is an intensely creative myth-making preparation for starting over again with a new way of looking at things,'each time with a different meaning for each individual. The death of the old self accompanied by the death of the old world-image represents the demise of the previously held culture-form. Simultaneously the opposites are constellated and clash with each other. The individual is in conflict, ethically and morally, in her value system, in such fashion that she sees two sides to almost any question that arises. The actual content of such conflicts is usually found to concern the psychic level of one's personal culture-form.

[…]

The most impressive and richest set of ideation is found in the messianic calling and its program. It is all too easy to dismiss these ideas as naive and inflated world-reforming idealism, such as one finds in the enthusiastic imagination of an adolescent. I must confess that for the first ten years of work with acute episodes I tended toward just this dismissal; I found myself bordering on impatience" and diverting my attention. By now, on the contrary, I find that the messianic mission with its program for society represents the very essence of the person's needs for living in society with any satisfaction. The images picture the kind of culture tire particular individual requires, thus offering a glimpse of the direction the psyche is attempting to move in its value system, and in its way of reading its experience and life in a social setting. "Interpretation" is in that case somewhat beside the point, but filling out the outlines, placing the clay on the armature or flesh on the bones, reaching the life hinted by these images, all become ways to [foster the healing process.

What, then, is healing in the manner of therapy presented here? When someone enters an altered state of consciousness, particular kinds of phenomena occur as the energy drops down into the unconscious. One finds oneself in touch with cosmic concerns, mystical experiences hover nearby, and many manifestations of transpersonal phenomena occur, such as synchronicities and parapsychological perceptions; most of all, one is ready to see the world as one. This vision of oneness is expressed in the messianic ideation, along with the recognition that the world is going to be marked by a style of living emphasizing equality and tolerance, harmony and love. This hope is almost universally seen in persons in the acute episode.

--John Weir Perry en "Trials of the visionary mind"