I don’t even care I would have been posted up in Ari’s bed at that dingy ass resort sucking and fucking that man 24/7/365. I love a misunderstood guy with a hero complex. When he saved that boy in the beginning I literally ovulated. He was so brave and sexy and spontaneously bursted into exercise as if he was asserting his dominance over others around him. He did not play about his cause, and was so blasé about it, too. Like yessss I’m ready and waiting for you when you get home, daddy.🤰🧎♀️☺️💗😛😜😜 I’m licking the sweat off of those washboard abs.
No bc the “spontaneously bursting into exercise as if he was asserting his dominance over others around him” is so true 😭😭😭 that really turned me on too 😭😭 and all the grunts he made while he was doing his push ups???? OKAYY PHEW 😮💨
Although I don’t love canon Ari and I hate the actual movie and what it’s about and how it portrays things LET THAT BE VERY VERY CLEAR.
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i’ve sent u a million of these but letting u know this tuesday that I am still turning over the philosophical implications of the atlas trilogy as I will be for a long time. todays thoughts are centered on Nothazai becoming the new caretaker and selling out and libby rhodes continually fucking over poc (belen, tristan, nico) who she expects unconditional allegiance from and then validating it using her own suffering (which is also sooo ironic considering her issues with ezra over his whole white knight thing, but of course it’s only an issue for her when it’s on the basis of gender) libby rhodes is the queen of white feminism but my problematic truth is that I still kinda love her im soooo sorry. maybe the others were right to bully her in the beginning but for the wrong reasons (not the bangs) ‼️
anyways thanks for the thought fodder and hope that people are being nice to you even after you broke all our hearts.
ah yes my fondness for undressing hypocrisy lol. that old chestnut!
libby, via her corruption arc, is certainly an allegory for conservative "feminism," which I assume you can tell is not something I hold in high regard, but in terms of craft, the spectrum of morality was always very important in this series—she's meant to feel familiar and sympathetic so that when she eventually grows comfortable with atrocity, her rationalization of her actions and choices feels like something you can half believe. the whole series is a thought experiment. what is a villain? what is a hero? what is power and what is exploitation? the tension built into the character of libby rhodes is meant to feel dynamic and conflicting, so that wherever you land on her as a character, I hope her arc is an interesting one to read
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What’s So Wrong With Having Heroes?
When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a doctor or a veterinarian. I wanted to help heal. And even as a small child, it felt like my calling.
Most kids dream of becoming a hero. The firefighters, the builders, the astronauts. The one’s who get medals and standing ovations. There’s many very monetarily successful movies and comics about all the superheroes we dream of. The people we want to save us. At one point, I thought I could be a hero. I wanted to be.
Being a hero wasn’t an issue for me though. People started to notice acts of kindness in me, and when they held that in high regard, I did too. I did everything I could to help others. It came naturally.
I bandaged my siblings and pets and strangers up. I gave advice like a wise old man, my aunt thanked me for helping her to leave her abusive husband when I was 8. I saved two people from drowning when I was 10. I talked friends out of suicide a dozen times. I became a street medic. I have saved dozens of lives, often under extraordinary circumstances. By definition, I fit the one for ‘hero’.
And I have so many issues with it. This isn’t a humble brag.
I genuinely think that we, as a society, put certain people on pedestals that shouldn’t be. I don’t think anyone should be. The hierarchy of heroes is inequitable and unrealistic. I think we should do the right thing because it’s the right thing, not to win an award or a badge of honor.
I see headlines all the time that are just ‘hero firefighter does their job!’. They’re paid to do this, of course they’re going to do it. As an abolitionist, I see cops hailed as heroes, usually for doing the objectively right thing, and it seems to magically erase the realities of what they do, the systemic harm they perpetuate. It’s the entirety of the ‘there’s some good cops’ narrative. And it causes great detriment to our communities because it makes it seem like the police do more good than bad.
Society particularly loves to paint white, cishet, abled, rich, educated, affluent men as heroes. The ones who can save us. Our hero.
And yet we ignore the people who are saving lives left and right, like people who use drugs who Narcan their friends. Or trans youth who stay up all night with their suicidal friends. Or the street medics who set up civilian ambulances for their under-served and neglected communities.
No one’s giving them medals.
Beyond that, people aren’t checking in on heroes. I’ve heard “you’re incredible!” and “thank you” a million times, but rarely do people genuinely check in on me after I’ve rescued someone.
And I usually need it. I’m at my worst mentally and usually physically after a rescue. It often takes months or years to process those events— they are traumatic for the rescuer too. Especially those of us without formal training or those of us who have attempted to rescue someone and lost them. We’re left to drift among all of these confusing and conflicting emotions, sometimes never understanding why.
The worst thing I hear: “I could NEVER do what you did”. It breaks me apart every time.
I don’t want to be doing this alone. I don’t want to have to save people over and over. I can’t save everyone.
I have to repeat that last one like a mantra sometimes.
I can’t save everyone. And so often, I still try to. I jump in without thinking. I throw myself into danger and worry about myself last, or, never. And it usually ends with me being seriously injured.
When I’d bandage up my siblings and pets it was after our parents hit us. I stepped in front of them as often as I could. I swallowed so much water while trying to save someone from drowning because they kept pulling me under that I puked. My 20-something-year-old boyfriend I dated when I was 16 stabbed me with the knife I had just talked him out of cutting himself with. He went on to keep caving my face in and choking me until I was blue. And of course, I’ve been seriously injured dozens of times during rescues. My body physically hurts so much afterwards, let alone the emotional toll.
I have to wonder: What would happen if I didn’t step in? Would it be so bad?
But of course, my brain always answers with a thousand of the worst case scenarios— or, just with what happened anyways. Sometimes people die no matter how much you try to fight to save them. And that has to just be what it is.
I think sometimes people live, and that just has to be what it is too.
But when we ascribe people as heroes, the message we send is that some people are heroes, some people aren’t. And I feel so strongly that this isn’t true. I believe that everyone has the capacity to help others, and so often, they do so in seemingly insignificant ways, and their deeds are not recognized.
Small acts of kindness are never small.
Life saving happens in everyday, ordinary ways. Sometimes what has saved my life has been something the other person will never remember or know. The Christmas cards from the elementary schoolers sent to the homeless shelter I lived at. The partners and friends who sat with me until I was safe on my own. My friends who held my hand as my heart beat dangerously fast, their presence being all I could feel, replacing the tightness in my chest. My cat cuddling me, purring until she snores. Strangers holding doors, strangers carrying my groceries, strangers checking on me. The dozens of items from my Amazon wishlists that have kept me alive.
I wish I could say how thankful I am to the community that’s kept me alive. How every time they’ve called me a hero, it’s because they made me possible. That they’re a hero just as much as I am.
I read ‘Mutual Aid: Building Solidarity During This Crisis (And The Next)’ by Dean Spade recently. In it, Dean describes “leader-less and leader-full” movements. It’s exactly what we need in the world. Hero-less and hero-full communities. We don’t need a select few— we need communities and societies structured around giving care. We need it to be standard, not extraordinary.
Personal responsibility can lead to community responsibility. We could have thriving, beautiful communities where we all care for each other so fully that no one single person is a savior, because we are all uplifted equitably.
I urge everyone I know to be more like the heroes they uplift. To think about what values they hold in high regard in others and to apply them to their own actions. To be what they already are, and acknowledge it.
You’re included.
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