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sophieswundergarten · 1 year ago

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Chapter 20 of S.O.S.

I don't even know anymore

@nobodysdaydreams Here ya go

ALRIGHT LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I AM BOTH EXCITED AND TERRIFIED

WHOOOO!!!!!!!!!

First off, love the title, and it’s making me a little nervous because now I’m thinking about Chapter 1 being titled “The Price of Admission”

Oh dear. The way you describe the feeling and emotions and just overall sensations of what Constance is experiencing is already punching me in the heart

(Though the intro bit with Jeffer was quite funny)

THEY BOTH THINK IT’S LIKE WHEN THEY WERE KIDS. BUT THE ONLY THING STOPPING THAT FROM BEING REAL IS THAT NEITHER OF THEM LIKE THEMSELVES ENOUGH TO BE HONEST AND VULNERABLE. UNBELIEVABLE. I AM ALREADY CHEWING DRYWALL. MASTICATING.

Oooooooohhhhhhhhhh

You added to it. He hasn’t forgotten that Nathaniel is hurting people, he just thinks that he finally got through to him. Oooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh :(

“The whole world felt so sunny. So vibrant. So full of humor and amusement. Had it always been this whimsically delightful? It must have been, but Nicholas felt as if he was seeing it for the first time. There was beauty everywhere. There was happiness everywhere. Nothing was too loud, nothing was too overwhelming, nothing was too anxiety provoking. For the first time in Nicholas’ life, everything in the world felt “just right”, and it was completely effortless.”

THIS IS A REALLY WELL-WRITTEN PARAGRAPH. BUT IT’S HORRIBLY JARRING BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT I ALSO FEEL AS “JUST RIGHT”, AND I ALREADY KNOW IT’S BAD. I WOULD FALL FOR THIS SO EASILY OH MY WORD ASFJDSJKFDKJ

“His friends might have left him, but he finally had his brother back. Perhaps they really could work together like they used to. It had been so long.”

BODS CAN YOU HOLD BACK FOR LIKE TWO SECONDS???? I AM WRITING OMINOUS STICKY NOTES AND PLACING THEM ON EVERY MIRROR YOU HAVE

OH. THAT’S WHY THERE’S A HYPHEN IN THE TITLE. ADSKJFDSHKJDSKJF

CONSIDER ANY STRING YOU OWN CONFISCATED

And you’re still calling him “Curtain”. He’s still calling himself “Curtain”. He doesn’t think he (deserves) is that name anymore. And yet he calls himself “Nathaniel” in Chapter 1. Hmmmmm

Also. Calling the fact that he “allows” Nicholas to call him his given name as a “luxury” is hysterical and very on-point. You are so, so good at writing Curtain :)

AHHHHHHH. THE CONFLICT IN POOR NICHOLAS’ BRAIN ABOUT HIS VARIOUS FAMILY MEMBERS

And then also Curtain continuing to not get it. Good gravy, man. PLEASE remember how to be a human being soon. You are hurting yourself so much :(

(And. Also. Like. Several thousand people, not least your own brother. But, still.)

NUMBER TWO!!!!!

Oh heavens. I feel very bad for her. But she did escape! (Kinda)

And then Milligan. I want to give him a hug.

YEAH

I LOVE THIS PART. BECAUSE JUST WHEN YOU THINK CHAOS AND STRIFE HAS BEFALLEN THE TEAM THEY GET IT BACK TOGETHER AND IT’S GREAT

“for some reason Milligan took personal offense at the implication that educators were incapable, though he could not explain why”

I LOVE HOW INSTEAD OF DENYING THAT SHE STOLE IT SHE’S JUST LIKE “I paid for it. And I left a beautifully hand-crafted thank you note.” IT DOESN’T MATTER THAT IT WASN’T FOR SALE IN THE FIRST PLACE JASHJJDKJHFD

She really is ready to be part of the team

(Why is one of the bars you have to pass, like, Neutral Good committing of crimes??? Ajsdkjds)

Marlon /derogatory

OH NO

OH NOW IT’S THAT BIT

“I don’t see the problem” And Marlon just decides that it’s fine. I Do Not Like Him

AND HE’S SO MEAN TO JACKSON AND JILLSON

OH BOY. AND YOU’VE BROUGHT BACK THE MARTINA BETRAYAL. I’M SO WORRIED ABOUT THAT. GIVE THESE KIDS A HUG

“Someone’s finally at the wheel and all you can do is naysay,” the officer observed, “You sound like a person who, frankly, would benefit from time in Dr. Curtain’s program. Compulsory or not.”

Oh yikes. There’s the wheel motif again, and also that sounds incredibly threatening. YOU WOULD THINK THIS WOULD TIP HER OFF TO GET OUT OF THERE

There’s something so sad about Rhonda being terrified when Number Two missed the check in and now she’s trying to call Rhonda and no one’s there :(

Adjfsdjfjdsjk

Miss Perumal trying to corral the children on the farm is a really entertaining mental image

OH. SHE’S TRYING TO CALL HER SISTER.

“You have reached the Two residence. We’re busy and aren’t available now or ever. Don’t expect an answer to your messages and don’t come to our house. We don’t want to buy anything, and we don’t want to meet any new people. Heaven knows you’d only abandon us just like everybody else and would probably try to steal from us too no doubt.”

“This answering machine is full. Please call back later.”

Yikes. Ajkdfjdsfjkdsf The Two family has some issues

(But very nice job on writing that. It’s incredible)

“Milligan heroically threw his helmet and jacket into the motorbike.”

…“heroically”?

Akjfhjkdfkjds Very good choice of word! It just makes me think of how overdramatic the cinematography got whenever it was focussed on Milligan

FOUND CRIME FAMILY. IT’S OKAY AS LONG AS YOU PAY PEOPLE BACK AND LEAVE THEM NICE NOTES. AKJLFDSJKD

Milligan is amazing

JEFFERS

HE COLLECTS RECEIPTS

I love our sad little guy

Oh no. Oh no. Nicholas’ thoughts are fascinating and you write them really really well but also it always makes me legitimately want to cry

OH YEAH. THEY HAVE THE SAME VOICE. THAT’S PROBABLY SUPER CREEPY

Oh. And Number Two’s all alone now. I know she isn’t really his daughter in the Show, but, still. To be abandoned in such a scary situation…

“He was using addict speech. Saying “I need to stay in my brother’s evil cult, not because of the addictive happiness he gave me, but because it’s crucial to our mission” was just another form of “I need to drink, not because I’m addicted, but because it helps my anxiety and is really better for me if you think about it.” There’s always a justification for anything, so long as your brain is smart enough to think of it and clever enough to trick yourself into believing it. And unfortunately, Number Two knew from experience that Mr. Benedict was very smart and very clever indeed.”

Yeah!! And we get to see another bit of Bods’ psychology brain! I’ve been waiting to see what you had to say about this. So, so many thoughts

And the little snips of what’s going on with Jackson and Jillson. It keeps building in increments, and I really have no idea what it’s going to build to with your writing but I have no doubt it’ll be spectacular

Poor Jeffers adsfjsdjk

He’s trying his best

AND THE WAY THAT THEY ALL CROSS PATHS IN SUCH A WAY THAT THEY JUST MISS ONE ANOTHER

MARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINA

I’m glad that the coaches appreciate her, but also understand that she’s working through a whole lot

(If only they knew how much…)

Ah, yes. Stealing, bribery, breaking and entering, fraud, all of those things are totally fine. Underage driving, however? Unacceptable

Garrison is trying her very best. (Unfortunately for her, that’s not good enough for Constance adjsd)

IS SHE REALLY FEELING BAD ABOUT THIS?????

Somehow that’s really sweet because she does care enough to notice things, but also SHE’S A TINY CHILD. IT’S NOT HER FAULT

Oh. Even without her snark, she wouldn’t be comforted by a lot of toys because of the bad memories she has attached to them. She doesn’t trust them :(

(I bet her family gives her a lot of unusual toys and puzzles, so she can view it as a challenge instead of being uncomfortable)

YOU DID THE THING AGAIN!!!!! YOU DID THE THING AND BROUGHT BACK THE SCENE WHERE THEY WERE ALL TALKING AND PLANNING!!!! I LOVE IT AND IT’S ALSO HEARTBREAKING. OH MY WORD THIS IS AWFUL AND I LOVE YOU

Oh good gravy. MILLIGAN.

The lot of them need to stop taking all the guilt in the world onto themselves. They are all so ridiculous

GARRISON NEEDS SOME HELP. IT’S NOT HER FAULT SHE’S VIOLENTLY UNCOMFORTABLY WITH CHILDREN

(Although I’d hazard a guess that her discomfort was seriously exacerbated after SQ’s parents died…)

“You need to choose better friends,” Constance suggested.”

YOU HAVE FORFEITED ALL RIGHTS TO YOUR CURTAIN RODS. I AM TAKING A SEAM RIPPER TO ALL OF YOUR PANT HEMS. YOUR WINDOWS HAVE BEEN HAPHAZARDLY COVERED IN BUTCHER’S PAPER AND SLOPPILY APPLIED DUCT TAPE

“Garrison frowned again. Kidnapping aside, there was no need for this child to be so rude.”

Garrison. You really would benefit from talking to another human being now and again (Or not have wiped your best years of social interactions from your brain)

““The ghost in the windmill. The dancer in the dark. You found a flaw,” said Garrison, spitting out the word “flaw” like it was filled with poison. “One that has kept me up every single night since and one that I can’t seem to replicate.””

HOW DO YOU WRITE SO PRETTY

AND ON TOP OF BEING REALLY FUNNY TOO

UM. DID GARRISON ACCIDENTALLY FORGET HER MORALS WHEN SHE STARTED LIVING IN A ROOT CELLAR? IS THIS BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T HAVE CURTAIN ANYMORE? KIND OF LIKE A “He’s so obviously insane that I must be the sane one to keep us on track” ONLY NOW SHE’S ON HER OWN????

Someone give her a hug

Oh, oh PLEASE let Number Two get in a fight with Marlon. She’d beat him so hard. And he’d deserve it

“Everyone barged into his office sooner or later to demand an explanation for things, and even if Curtain had not gotten better and better at correctly estimating one’s breaking point, the security cameras he installed around the compound certainly helped.”

SDFKJDjkdsfkjdj BODS

Also, Curtain, buddy, if you’re the common denominator in all these instances of people bursting into your office then maybe you might be the problem

“By “thing” you mean relieving him of the constant grip of existential angst?” Oh yeah, I would fall for this whole cult thing so very fast. I’m already a goner

YEAH. YEAH, CURTAIN, IT’S KIND OF WEIRD THAT YOU GUYS SEEK OUT SIMILAR FRIENDS. IT’S ALMOST LIKE YOU’RE SIBLINGS. AND YOU MISS EACH OTHER.

She’s so incredibly angry and scared and hurting and just a tornado of emotions

And then Curtain’s just kinda. Sitting there. Placidly. (I would have snapped and punched him by now)

YOU BROUGHT BACK HER BOOK NAME!!!!!! I love you

SCREAMING SCREAMING CRYING

CAN YOU STOP TREATING HER LIKE A SUB-PAR GARRISON???? PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD REMEMBER THAT’S SHE’S A REAL HUMAN, YOU BUFFOON!!!!!!

Good job. Steal his plates. He deserves it. (Maybe go after his floorboards next…)

Is… Is Auguste okay? He didn’t ever freeze on-screen, but I am quite concerned about him…

OH MY WORD CURTAIN CAN YOU STOP USING CHILDREN AS CONDUITS I AM GOING TO SCREAM

Oh no….

The panic and turmoil and poor Nicholas is caught in the middle. He’d feel bad even normally, but now everything’s all confused too

“Here, Nicholas wasn’t a burden to his friends”

SCREAMING

I AM TEARING INTO YOUR PILLOWS WITH MY BARE TEETH

LOSING MY MIND

(I’ll sanitise the remains after, I promise)

MARLON IS SO TERRIBLE

And poor Jackson and Jillson are getting a lot more scared…

“He was also very agitated at the idea that Dr. Curtain’s happiness was the cause of this, not only because it put his position in jeopardy, but also because Marlon himself had taken the happiness. Obviously, he wasn’t in danger of succumbing to anything like this (he wasn’t nearly as mentally weak as Sebastian or Paula), but the implication that something like this even could happen to him was a prospect that Marlon found insulting.”

He just keeps getting worse and worse. I am so upset with him. I can’t even like that he’s an intriguing antagonist, he’s just awful. (Although I will concede that you write him incredibly well and I am quite appreciative of how much you make me hate him)

AND GARRISON

I KNOW SHE’S TECHNICALLY A VILLAIN/ANTAGONIST BUT SOMEONE PLEASE SAVE HER

“I hope y'all are ready”???

“I hope y'all are ready”????????

YOU HOPE WE’RE READY?????????

READY FOR WHAT??????? Oh my goodness. I— I just— I have no words. I am screeching. Bods, there are so, so many things that happened in this chapter. I am so shaken up. I feel like my insides were in a blender. It’s so exciting to see all of these plot points and hints and through lines and motifs that you’ve been laying out and I am just over the moon about everything. You have created a n o v e l, and it’s gorgeous. I am disintegrating. I can feel my molecules breaking up. I read a book once where a lady cried acidic material and when she started sobbing she just sunk into a hole in the floor and that’s what I’m feeling right now.

I think I need a nap. I don’t have any idea how to articulate this. Just know that you’ve done amazingly. Just. You are absolutely incredible, my friend. I can feel these characters living and breathing in the letterings and you somehow make it new and fresh material every time, no matter the fact that I’ve seen the show or how often I’ve reread your work. Each of the characters takes on such a vibrancy of life and independence under your guidance, and I adore getting to “meet” them and learn how they work in your narrative. Just stupendous

#Whooo #No clue what is even happening anymore #But I am so incredibly happy that I got on this in the beginning #Because I think I would have been overwhelmed if I had come across it now #And that would have taken me much much longer #s.o.s.

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popcornbutterflymedia · 4 years ago

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the teen show genre is back. that it had announced it’s grand return at such a time of deep uncertainty and unimaginable loss, especially for an entire generation of teenagers, is relief, respite, and a necessary and urgent gain. there is nothing but gratitude for this...for its intended audience and for those of us who will live vicariously through the lives of the kids, for those of us who will watch, and walk with the kids. for someone like me who longs to feel strongly about a story enough to write again.

despite my ‘desperate begging’ for the return of the youth oriented show. i did not picture this. in my defense, i did not know about this story at all. now, when i did learn the gist of the story, i did not expect much. it is, after all, a trope we’ve repeatedly seen in practically every language. in my defense, again, i would have found this show, and watched it anyway, in support of the network, probably be mildly entertained, slightly amused, and successfully distracted. and that would have been enough. i was bound to find this show, though during a deep dive into the youtube rabbit hole, chancing upon a japanese doll and an american cutie, realizing the creative team for this show is that creative team. my favorite creative team. i was sold.

i knew i was going to love this show enough to write. the question is, how? do i live tweet, take notes, and write a post for every episode, or do i live tweet take notes, listen, take notes and write one big post at the end of the series? judging by how much detail i know this team puts into a story in the form of metaphors, seeds, pay offs, connection and clues, clearly obvious in this first episode alone, this calls for an episodic post, for the peace of my own nerdy, detailed obsessed mind.

it is worth repeating that i haven’t read the book. this focuses on the series alone. no references, no comparison to its source material.

and it begins. oddly so.

first, a note on the casting: my attachment to a show is dependent on my attachment to the cast of the show. i spent the weeks and months leading up the pilot episode learning as much as i can about this refreshing cast of newbies. i’d been watching rise since it began, and so it wasn’t difficult to develop a soft spot for the five rise kids who are part of the show. as for the rest of the cast, their interviews and streams are all surprisingly impressive. i always like to say ‘walang patapon sa mga batang ito.’ none at all. they are all so special that i am in awe of how many gifted children are in one batch at one time, in time for a show like this. the teen show slot was vacant because it was waiting for these specific kids.

everyone who was given moments on this episode made the most of their moments. episode one’s surprises were criza, who is a natural. i am just grateful naih was able to use all of criza’s kulit energy. gelo, i’ve known is funny, but it wasn’t until i saw him in character that i realized just how hysterical he is. i enjoyed his interaction with ysay, i am wondering if there is more of that. v no longer surprises. i find that she is incredibly underrated still. i love that girl. fictional life sometimes clouds my judgement, ever so slightly, but these mean girls, are the mean girls i would cheer for. i’ve just been enjoying the girls’ junket interviews so much that it is also a joy to watch them in character. aimee is spunky, sophie is incredibly poised. khloe is a joy to watch, and ash just fits in, dalia...i have never seen a girl with such strong presence and beauty since hopie. i have never enjoyed watching a local queen bee as much as i feel i would enjoy, and hate to watch kim. dalia is amusing to watch too, so there’s that. joao, you know i have always found reliable and competent. limer, i am just happy an actor like him is in a show as big as this. kaorys is my in on this show. they are favorites. i adore them. she registers well on camera, and rhys is music to my ears, and has such an animated, expressive face. i cannot wait to watch their subplot and write about them in detail. i am attached to these kids. i know they are going to be a joy to watch.

melizza, melizza deserves her own paragraph. i first paid attention to when she was answering those miss universe questions on rise, and my jaw literally dripped at how intelligent she is. that intelligence shines through in her portrayal of elle. she is self-aware, and aware of her co-stars in a scene. she is conscious of where she is in a scene. she does she is a realiable actress in that there is no fear that she will break character it doesn’t have to be her scene, but i cannot help but watch her. she isn’t a scene stealer, but she is always acting, always reacting. she gets the assignment: from speaking french to playing a nuanced mean girl whose meanness, is as she understands and plays elle, stems from fear, from being threatened. i actually love that. there is no real villain in this story, just kids navigating unfamiliar, ugly, strange feelings, with limited ways to express these feelings. melizza gets it. i said i am a melizza fan now. i mean it.

donny and belle individually: i had known of donny, watched him long enough to know him, and who his family is. since he started mostly on social media, this ate didn’t quite get the appeal. no offense, it’s just a generational thing. haha! when he started acting, he was like most greenhorns to me, appeal understandable, charming to an extent, but with still so much to learn. i missed his last acting stint before this show. i did not watch jpd.

belle is a going bulilit alum. that’s all i really need to know to trust the casting. i wasn’t a fan yet. i had no clue about the story so i did not know just how much weight the character carried, but by virtue of the fact that she’s been acting the longest out of the ensemble, i knew she knew what she would be doing. i knew the management knew what they were doing when they casted her. belle as the focal point of the story lends such an air of confidence that the story will be told well and that the necessary intimacies will be handled with care. belle’s ability to transform would make max’s arc effective. i did not watch jpd. i had heard about it.i had heard it was surprise. ‘the ending part...’ it was all too familiar: lizquen, circa 2012, must be love: ‘the ending...’

it was completely blind, complete trust.

their casting made me momentarily forget that there were multiple rounds of auditions, from which the each of the cast were carefully picked. it just seemed so random, that is, in context of say, kaori and rhys that could count kuya’s house as part of their shared history. so much of my acceptance of this new pairing depended on how much i trusted the team, and how i knew they worked. i then consumed any and all donbelle content i could find, which, at that time was painfully lacking. imagine the excitement when that first general assembly officially kicked off the hih junket, from then on, they started to grow on me.

these are two calm, cool, collected kids, with a kulit side for sure, but they both take their sweet time. there is a formality and wide open space that was begging to be bridged with these two. there were times i would will myself to see it. theirs isn’t an instant explosion of chemistry, but a sustained afterglow. once that was clear, the goal of sustaining this partnership for however long, how many other stories they can tell together, also became clearer.

it was the tv patrol interview by the lockers that had me sold. it was him joking that they were already married with three kids. it was the way he looked at her in that interview, the way he still does, with donbelle, it’s all the little, quiet things. i don’t know how to explain it, but if they were to jump into the emotional deep end together, i have no fear.

now, back to the beginning which i thought was strange. a recap of what i imagine is the entire first season, artistic as it may be, is one huge spoiler. i realized, this is based on a book. those who’ve read it obviously know what’s going to happen. such opening is meant to set the mood. it’s an invitation to emotionally invest. it’s safe to say, it accomplished those two goals, but i feel as though there is more to that opening. as someone who is clueless about the source material, it reassures that it doesn’t matter what we know, or don’t know, because this is less a story of ‘what?’ and more a story of ‘whys?’ and ‘hows?’this takes me back to the first general assembly when comparisons to the meteor garden, boys over flowers were brought up. i understand the comparisons, but now that the first episode has aired, i feel so strongly against it.

this introductory montage is proof that it is not about the pieces of the story, but how the pieces are moved around to tell a story, to give us a fresh new perspective of a trope, starring stereotypical characters. the story is told in retrospect, with our lead looking back, taking all the pieces of the whole apart, rather than building the story as she goes along (which is incidentally how i like to take in stories).

the introductory montage is a device that allows a more expanded storytelling. the story is told from max’s point of view. it’s a story of how she sees things, this makes her an unreliable narrator due to her blind spots and clouded judgement. as the story goes along, the audience sees that it is not only max’s story, it is deib’s as well, and the rest of the characters’ stories, max only sees the bigger picture in retrospect. because i am such a nerd, imagine my kilig when i realize why that choice for an opening was made? i may have screamed.

notes, questions, favorite moments.

belle’s ‘sigurado,’ the first 4-5 notes of the hooked sprinkled throughout the episode.

on the road: the transition from max on the trike and deib, in his car rushing through a countryside road, if that was clean editing, i’d celebrate it...that the two people were on the same road at the same time travelling different directions is the most clever storytelling moment thus far. i love when seeds are planted and pay offs are grand. it was hardly a meet cute, but it was some intense head on collision. okay, i got it just then, the accident was a literal representation of their metaphorical colliding. it was a lot of things for her: irritation, wonder, disturbance, fascination, disruption. it was a complicated mix for him too, except clouded by the rush of having to be somewhere else other than that moment. charged. electric. spark. lightning that escaped him. (yup. more on that later).

this encounter begs the question: what was deib doing there? why was he in a rush?

the airport scene: ‘hinihintay ka na ng kapalaran mo.’ a beautiful verbal sign of things to come.

meeting daddy: it’s what uncertainty does to max that i find so disarming her fidgeting the heart shaped pendant close to her chest, summoning said heart for strength, and grace, counting on the assurance of its familiarity.

the car conversation with dad: still disarming. charming. curious. that the necklace from which hangs her heart shaped confidante was actually her dad’s gift to her mom. how heartwarming is the thought that the one thing that makes her feel close to her mom is actually from her dad who she is meeting for what i assume is the first time? i think it’s a beautiful irony.

the dinner table scene. the family dynamic it established. elle’s french, max wrestling with the chopsticks on the side.

sleepless max. her hidden vulnerability, and with whom that vulnerability finds comfort. who is babu?

max’s fist at the school entrance, and elle calling her out on it.

the cafeteria scene, and how that whole moment is the selling point of the story - brave max who does not care for the social rules of her new school standing up to the bully who happens to look the way he does. i won’t say she’s unaffected, but at that point her view is clouded with the injustice she just witnessed, that is until they recognize each other. as a side note: ysay and lorde’s interaction made me smile.

the aftermath. max has now caught the attention of the whole school, she has caught the attention of the mean girls so much so that walking down the halls is social suicide. when aimee confronted her, (sophie did so well!) my eyes looked for elle’s eyes. there were layers upon layers of emotion there: shame, hesitation, confusion, fear, maybe anger, there was a flash of her wanting to connect too, or did i just imagine it?

the gym scene with all the boys. it’s probably my favorite...not really, but it’s the scene that gave me so much, the scene that proved to me that this is more than just a simple, one dimensional teen show. this one moment spawned so many fan theories online that i have yet to read. it’s interesting when we cross that bridge, but to me for now, it is from this point up to the debate that kind of turned the tables, and gave the story a sudden depth that’s unexpected. it made the audience pay attention to deib as well, that this is as much his story too. and on the aspect of change, in one interview (i can’t remember which one), i remember belle describing max as someone who wants to change the people around her, and through that, she is changed as well. i did not understand what she meant at that time, until this. and the debate.

the debate: i just love the debate, simply because i love words, but long-winded dialogue like that is risky especially on a show like this. i loved it. i loved the rhythm, poetry, and point of it. i love how layered it is. i loved how comfortable was delivering his lines. i did not cringe, which just means he has gotten better at this whole acting thing, and it’s always a joy to watch someone breakthrough. this moment was necessary as a springboard to the next scene, to show that the rivalry isn’t just a physical one, but a rivalry of the minds too. (i enjoyed that that was pointed out in one of the kumu lives) this is also one of the scenes that proved what the introductory montage was trying to establish: that max is an unreliable narrator, that there are things she doesn’t see. i would say the tables have turned, and it has, but we also discovered that deib has always been the romantic, and max the realist. at that moment we know that max will be changed irrevocably. that ending took the wind out of me. that hurt, but it was thrilling too, made me excited for things to come.

‘love is like lightning.’ poor deib doesn’t know he has been struck by lightning, and is prone to the electricity of one. he doesn’t know it yet because of the gray sky gloom of his shattered heart.

the kiss is everything, it was shocking, kilig and all that, but in context of the story, it is more appealing more kilig to think of all the interactions that lead up to that accidental kiss, all the pent up tension in those interactions that is channeled into that meeting of lips. oh gosh! it just occurred to me, this kiss was predicated by such a verbose exchange just to prove a point, to win. it only took this kiss to shut both max and deib up. i would say there are no winners here. they are both losers to love. except. it’s still to early to call it, right?

in terms of the team up: implied as it is, this is what i mean when i say, i am unafraid for these two to go there, when necessary. there is such a safety i sense between donny and belle, in the way they care for each other. it’s beautiful.

to say that this show only promotes bullying to its young, impressionable target demographic, could not be more wrong. this show matters because it gives its characters (who are representative of today’s teen generation), complete arcs, and safe spaces for feelings no matter how ugly they are. it’s a show that allows teens to be teens, allows them to figure things out for themselves, a show that allows them to relate with one another, as they should. and the usual byproduct of emotional teens relating with one another is bullying. it’s not the best thing ever, but it is what it is. see, we can only pray and hope that the kids turn out to be good ones, but to expect kids to be perfect is out of the question. this is a work of fiction, of course there is a tinge of exaggeration. now, if you all are that bothered by the bullying, i hope there are adults watching with you. be kilig. have fun with the show, but always look deeper.

why do you think i needed three re-watches and few days for a post this long?

i am excited for the next episodes.

(if i think to add more, this will be edited).

#tv #tv: he's into her

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ergomaria · 5 years ago

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The Past is Gone (but something might be found) Preview Pt. III

Somehow, the text from the original post was deleted when I tried to edit the tags to make this easier to sort. I’ve restored it. Once again, I’m just posting this as a reminder that I’m alive and still trying to write!

PLOT: Vann, Meetra, and Carth touch the wrong thing at the wrong shrine and are turned into themselves at 18. Alek finds himself paying his penance to the Force when he has to simultaneously watch over the trio while trying to figure out how to restore them to their proper ages.

Now saddled with three teenagers and very few clues, Alek nodded in acquiescence as he trudged back towards the Hawk. Luckily, they were all fairly well behaved during the walk. Once they reached the ship the real fun began.

“So, do any of you know the codes to get back on the ship?”

There was a long bout of uncomfortable silence during which it became clear that no adult knowledge about the freighter had stuck with the teens. The worst part was that Alek did know the codes but couldn’t admit that fact without seeming suspicious. The next best option was to rewire the door panel and go from there.

“Alright, here’s a better question. Do any of you know how to rewire a hatch?”

Predictably, it was Deran who raised his hand. “Obviously I can, at least if I have the correct tools. Unfortunately, I don’t have my normal gear…”

The amount of places that Vann had broken into or out of during his search for the Star Forge still grated on Alek’s nerves. He knew for a fact there was a multitool tucked somewhere in that worn black jacket, but it was yet another fact he couldn’t openly share. “This might sound absurd, but everyone check your pockets. If your clothing originally belonged to spacers, and it looks like it did, the original owners may have left something useful behind.”

It was a risky gamble since there was always a chance that one of them had identifying documents on their person. But Alek was hoping they’d left those behind to perform a mission as covert as hiding a highly dangerous Sith holocron. Onasi’s civilian clothing was the best indicator that this might be the case. For once the Force was on his side and the search produced nothing but various odds and ends. An extra reload for the blasters, a few credits, a ration bar, a medpac, and finally a multitool that Vann had definitely purchased illegally.

Deran was predictably pleased to find the item and immediately set to work rewiring the door to his own ship. Meanwhile, Alek quietly filed that irony away for later. When the exit ramp slid open with a smooth hiss, Onasi practically cracked a tooth in his desperate attempt to not look impressed.

The inside of the Hawk was in partial disarray, though it was hard to tell if this was from whatever had transpired to turn three adults into teenagers or the mere fact that it was Vann’s ship and thus naturally full of clutter. Either way, the mess made it easier for Alek to order the teens to remain in the main hold where it was neater and theoretically ‘safer’ while he ‘checked’ the rest of the freighter. As soon as he was sure they would stay put, he moved into the cockpit to look for further clues.

Despite his tendency towards random piles of mechanical parts, Vann was absolutely fastidious when it came to researching locations and making notes about what he discovered. Before the original trip to Dromund Kaas he’d compiled an entire datapad full of files on the history of Sith purebloods, their laws, and their customs. While Nirauan had significantly less information recorded, there was still a pad with multiple paragraphs discussing the planet’s connection to both the Rakata Infinite Empire and the Force itself. It seemed that the crew was aiming to land near a series of suspected Rakata ruins that had a notable presence.

Datapad in hand, Alek peeked into the main hold to inform his charges of his next step. “Just so you’re aware, I think I found a series notes mentioning that this planet has a strange connection to the Force. I don’t know if it has anything to do with your current situation, but we can’t rule it out. I have a friend who might be able to untangle the few clues we currently have, so I’m going to comm her using the ship’s unit. Just wait here until I’m done.”

“Is she a Jedi?” Meetra was sprawled across two seats looking dangerously bored.

“She was at one time, but she’s since left the Order. However, she’s very knowledge about certain subjects and I feel that her input will be extremely helpful.” One of the subjects she had a great deal of experience with was being a Force prodigy and another was ancient artifacts from the Infinite Empire, currently making her the galaxy’s only authority on the situation. When there were no further questions, Alek hurried away to contact Rakata Base in the hope of begging Bastila for assistance.

“Vann?” The young woman’s face immediately darkened when she saw who was on the other end of the call. “Why are you there and where is Vann?”

“I’m here because Meetra contacted me when there was a complication with their current mission,” Alek hissed as quietly as possible. Noting the concern that immediately overtook Bastila’s face he assured her, “Everyone is healthy. I hesitate to say ‘fine’ because, well… Somehow, through a combination of some Rakta ruins and a Sith holocron, all three members of this crew are currently teenagers with no memories of their adult selves. I’d estimate them between seventeen and nineteen, if I had to guess.”

The incredulous glare was absolutely scathing. “You’ve picked a poor time to develop a sense of humor.”

“Why in Sith hells would I joke about this? I currently have three teenagers in the hold of this damn ship who are convinced that I’m a Jedi Sentinel named Naver who happened to sense a disturbance in the Force. Since it’s blatantly clear that my creativity it lacking, you can be sure that I couldn’t make this bantha fodder up if I tried!”

“Dustil, can you please come here? Our former ‘master’ is on the comm and he believes that he’s being hilarious. Perhaps you can convince him to tell me what’s really going on.”

“What the hells is going on now, Malak?” The younger Onai looked supremely irritated, which actually mirrored how Alek was currently feeling.

“That’s not my name.”

Appearing unbothered by the correction, Dustil sneered for a moment before snapping, “What kinrath nest did Vann get my dad into this time?”

“Oh, did he not tell you? Supposedly through the will of the Force, Vann, Meetra, and your father are now teenagers with no memory of their adult lives.” Bastila looked equally unamused. “Funny, yes?”

“Hi-kriffing-larious.”

Alek was about two second from hanging up and hoping that Rand would be more helpful, if only to get Meetra back into her proper body, when a slender figure crept into the room just within view of the comm unit.

“Um, Knight Naver, I apologize for bothering you but…”

There was a loud pop of static from the other end of the comm, which turned out to be Bastila covering the microphone with her hand so that she could curse for about thirty seconds straight.

“Yes, Deran? I was actually just telling me friend Bastila a bit about you and the others in the hope that she’d be willing to assist us in figuring out what happened. Perhaps you’d like to speak with her about your current situation? It could be useful.”

It was hard to tell who was more bewildered by the entire scenario. Luckily, Deran’s natural curiosity quickly took hold and he slipped over to the console and situated himself before the camera. “Hello, Bastila was it? What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh stars…” The young woman was doing a poor job of disguising her surprise, though she still managed to stutter, “I apologize for my lack of manners. You just… remind me of someone I know. No matter. Actually, Deran, I was just wondering how, ah, how old you are.”

“You really aren’t a Jedi, are you? Sorry, that was rude. It’s just… everyone in the Order always seems to know everything about me. But uh, I turned eighteen a few months ago.”

“Two years before Knighthood…”

“Bastila, be careful. You don’t want to scare the boy!” While it was technically true that Deran became the youngest Knight in the order at age twenty, that wasn’t information his eighteen-year old self knew. It wasn’t until nineteen that his trials actually began.

Plastering on a false smile, the young woman quickly stammered, “That’s just a guess on my part. Though, of course, I could be wrong. It’s not like I can see the future and you’re so very… young.”

Unfortunately, just the mention of Knighthood had made Deran’s back go stiff, his jaw ticking in the corner even as his expression remained stoic and proper. “Well, that’s for the Council to decide. They know best.” Even at this age he sounded thoroughly unconvinced. “What else do you want to ask me?”

“That’s… that’s it.” Turning to Alek, Bastila stated, “I believe you and I’ll do whatever I can to help. Just tell me what you need.”

“I’ll send you all of the data I have in a minute. Let me just find out what brought Deran in here in the first place.”

“I came in to let you know that Carth and Meetra left the ship. They said that they got tired of waiting for you and decided to explore on their own.” The teen winced slightly. “Also, they may have been flirting? I’m not always great at telling that type of stuff, but it’s possible they just went to go and… you know.”

The snort of hysterics from Dustil was all the confirmation that Alek needed to know that this entire situation was his punishment from the Force. Part of him considered letting Meetra and Onasi do whatever they wanted. Someone else could deal with the fallout. But he also needed to get Deran out of the room to prevent him from snooping. “I’m concerned that they’re going to get themselves into trouble. There are some very powerful ruins on this planet and I’d hate for them to make the current situation even more complicated. Can I trust you to find them and bring them back safely?”

It was an underhanded ploy. Alek was fully aware that Deran’s facade of teenage bravado combined with his crippling fear of failure would make him agree to almost any task without question. But the former Sith didn’t have time to chase two teenagers down, all while trying to keep a third from learning that he was currently speaking with his own kriffing Padawan.

As expected, Deran immediately nodded. “Of course. I’ll bring them back as quickly as possible.”

It wasn’t until the teen’s footfalls disappeared off the ship that Alek sat down with a sigh, his head pounding from the sheer mental acrobatics required to keep this situation moving forward. As he uploaded the information from Vann’s datapad he grumbled, “For Force sake, Dustil. I thought your father would be the responsible one!”

The damned kid was still laughing. “Just checking, but is Meetra the teenager as pretty as Meetra the adult? Big blue eyes and wavy blonde hair?”

Attempting to be objective about the attractiveness of someone who was like a sister to him, Alek shrugged. “I suppose? She was more petite at this age, almost willowy. I honestly think she looks better with some muscle. Less delicate.”

“I don’t care either way, it’s just… My dad kinda has a type. Or, at least he did at that point in his life. My mom was petite with wavy, honey-brown hair. They met when he was twenty.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope, you can look up the files for Morgana Onasi if you want. I um, I have. Just to see her, you know? It helps me to remember her face…” Shaking away his melancholy, Dustil cleared his throat. “Ah, anyway, at eighteen my Dad was really responsible when it came to official things. Training and studying? He was incredibly dedicated. But when he had time to himself he kind of… let loose. Nothing really bad, just a lot of drinking and fooling around with his fellow cadets. Put a bunch of bored, horny teenagers in the same dorm and stuff happens.”

Alek had lived in the Jedi dormitories during puberty and was well aware of what could happen. He winced.

“The good news is that my dad definitely liked men at that age as well… Please don’t ask how I know this. It was a really awkward conversation that only happened because I got mad at him and… ugh. But the good news is that he might rediscover how amazing Vann is. He is really great at this age, right?”

“He’s actually an anxious mess who likes to pretend he’s confident, which just comes off as arrogance. It doesn’t help that he’s actually good at whatever he does. Honestly, I think your father currently wants to throttle him.”

“Ouch. Well, maybe they’ll lose all memory of this once they get restored to their actual ages!”

“We can only hope the Force is that kind.” Rubbing his forehead, Alek asked, “Bastila, have you looked over those files I sent?”

“I’m reading them now and I’ll run them through the Rakata archives when I’m done. But you should be aware that, while we have a significant amount of information on the Infinite Empire, we don’t have much else. Vann tries to update what he can, but it’s still nothing compared to what the Jedi possess.”

“Do your best, it’s still more than I have access to on this ship.”

“I do have an idea, but you’re not going to like it one bit.” Upon noting Alek’s hopeful expression, Bastila sighed...

#kotor 2 #kotor 2 fanfic #wip excerpt #revan #male Revan #vann chis #The Jedi Exile #Female exile #Alek Squinquargesimus #Malak #bastila shan #dustil onasi #my writing #not perfection but completeness

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deputy-sarah-sux · 5 years ago

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can i be a psycho and your worst nightmare by asking ALL the writers asks?

You are a demon omg. I love it though this was so much fun to do.Since you didn’t specify fic specifically for some of these questions I’m just gonna write about The Devil Has Come for all of the “in xxx fic” asks.

Answers are below since this is such a long ask :):):)

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction? 12/13 it was between 7th and 8th grade and it was all anime fanfiction

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?Far Cry 5, RDR2, Assassin’s Creed, DC, Marvel, Fallout, Skyrim, Preacher. Far Cry 5 is definitely my favorite to write for though

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.Personally, I prefer OC’s, with OC’s I can build their character, give them a personality and growth. I like shaping the character as the world changes based on their actions

4) What is your favourite genre to write for?Action or romance unless I totally misread that question

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi-chaptered stories, which would it be and why?The Devil Has Come!!! It was my first in the Far Cry fandom and it’s my baby. I love all the characters and the world that I’m building. It’s got action, romance, some twists, it’s exciting

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?If we’re talking things that I’m currently writing and enjoy writing then I guess Bridges only because it’s the same characters as TDHC just in an AU form so I’d survive without it.

7) When is your preferred time to write?Night, 10pm on basically.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?Everywhere really? TV shows, movies, video games, other fics

9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote?So far my favorite scene that I wrote in TDHC that has been published was either the confrontation with Rook in Chapter 11 or Jacob finding Sarah in the hotel in Chapter 8. They were both really fun to write.

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternate ending in mind?Well it hasn’t been ended yet, but there were two possible endings that I was originally considering. I’m not saying much more other than the ending that I went with is gonna hurt me when I eventually get to it.

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?Not after posting but I have amended stories due to criticisms. If I’m a bit worried about a particular scene I’ll share the doc with my best lady @farcryfuckmeup and get her opinion. She usually points out things that aren’t great and I go from there. She’s the closet thing to a beta reader that I have.

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?Sarah!!! She’s my best girl and I love her personality and attitude. In terms of canon characters though I’ve been writing some stuff from Arthur Morgan’s pov and that’s been really fun too. I really love playing around with his sense of self and morality.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?I don’t have one yet? We’ll see how the future plays out there. It might be Ethan Seed but I’ve never written stuff for him so I’m not 100% sure.

14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx? - You can ask about multiple stories.Almost every fic name is from a song. The Devil Has Come is from Blues Saraceno’s “The River”, Icarus is from Bastille’s “Icarus”, and I’m not sure where Bridges is from but I’m 90% sure it was a song. The series that TDHC and it’s connected stories are a part of is called Bottom of the River from Delta Rae’s “Bottom of the River”.

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names?I use name generators for modern characters or look up names with a specific meaning. If the character is from the past (ie cowboy times or pirate times) I look up names popular in that century. Sarah’s name I got by looking up popular names with religious meanings and Sarah was on the list.

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx?I came up with the idea for TDHC by playing co-op with @farcryfuckmeup. It was originally supposed to be a crackfic based on the dumbshit we did in-game. Then in my desperation to pretend that the game didn’t end the way it ends I started coming up with ways it could have gone differently and thus my fic was born.

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.I have so many wips! I’ll do a few because I’m in a sharing mood.Fallout 4 WIP: “‘You don’t even use power armor, why did you steal so many?’”RDR2 WIP: “Valentine was a crap town with crap people and even crappier whiskey. It was tiny and smelled like mud and horse shit and something else that she was pretty sure was vomit.”Another RDR2 WIP: “Trouble was the bastard was clingy apparently as he was hot on Arthur’s heel.”

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?Yes, a few. I got bored or I decided to focus on other things. I do intend to one day finish them but who knows

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?The Devil Has Come!!! I can’t wait to write a sequel and I haven’t even finished the current fic.

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?Sometimes I wish I’d written a follow up to my judge fic Joseph and his Judge. I’m not totally sure if I like how it ended.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?@farcryfuckmeup first and foremost, she’s amazing. I also love gwennolmarie and OutlandishWhalesharks on Archive of Our Own.

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?My anime fics from middle school. It’s still posted and I won’t tell you what it’s called but every time I remember it a little part of me dies.

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?Music mostly but it sometimes depends on the scene. For certain scenes I need silence but for the most part it’s music music music. I have playlists for all sorts of scene types.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?I love it, idk if I’m any good at it but I do like writing them.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?Yes, I’ve been writing some future parts of TDHC and I have cried a bit writing some of it.

26) Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write?The smut scene in Chapter 10 of TDHC, it was the first smut scene I’d ever published so I was really worried about that and kept rewriting it.

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?Bit of both I guess. There is a vague outline in my head but only for like the big events, everything in between is go with the flow shit.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?It’s not going to be an instant hit. When I first started posting works back in the day I was always so upset when I’d check the next day and see only like 12 people had read it.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?Icarus :( It’s only a baby fic and it’s in a mostly dead fandom but I love it.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?No, I love all the attention my fics get.

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec not the answerer)I’m gonna recommend one myself. Since this is a Far Cry blog I’ll recommend a Far Cry fic: come a little closer by lowtides on AO3Also here’s a Fallout 4 fic that isn’t finished but I absolutely love: RAIDERHEAD by TaraTargaryen

32) Are any of your characters based on real people?No real people no. Thomas is a combination of a few fictional characters though.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?I’ve gotten a few comments of analysis on chapters I’ve posted and honestly I love that so much. Nothing warms my heart more than seeing that someone not only read my fic but sat there and actually thought a lot about it.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?Like I said before I haven’t gotten a lot of criticism, but I guess the harshest for me was when I was discussing a character that I had really started to like and my friend (who I was ranting at about him) asked me to honestly think about what he brings to the table. Like is he actually necessary or just a throwaway character that won’t bring much to the story? I ended up scrapping him and putting a nameless character in his place to fill a few of his scenes.

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?I share them with one (1) person and that person is my irl best friend @farcryfuckmeup. Everyone else has to wait until I post stuff I don’t want to spoil any big surprises.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?It’s a chapter very far in the future for a fic I’m sure you can guess but I won’t outright say.“Against his better judgment, he reached out and grabbed the hysteric woman, tightening his grip against her struggling and pulling her into his lap. He wrapped her in a tight hug until she finally began to calm down, humming softly and running his fingers through blood-soaked hair.“

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written?I haven’t written a lot of funny stuff. I mostly do angsty. But when I was in middle school a wrote a novel where I spent two paragraphs talking about my MC’s hair color and current outfit and I cackle every time I read it. 70 pages or pure cringe, it’s hilarious.

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.@farcryfuckmeup hmu bitch!also you @onl-you

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person?Third, every now and then I write in first but idk I just don’t like it much.

40) Do people know you write fanfiction?My close friends do

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written?Thomas Moore, he’s a lot of fun to write for.

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song xxx for xxx.I don’t actually have any song fics in the traditional sense. I do however have some fics inspired by songs. I listen to music almost constantly, sometimes a song comes on that gives my fic vibes and I add it to my prompt playlist.

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it?@/farcryfuckmeup has but I don’t try too hard to keep secrets when she’s around

44) What is the last line you wrote?“John rolled his eyes and finished unbuttoning his shirt.”

45) What spurs you on during the writing process?This is cliche probably but the readers. I don’t want to leave someone waiting around for the next update forever. I also want to see how things play out myself so my own desire to see the finished product also helps.

46) I really loved your xxx fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it?Again, going with TDHC for this. I am writing a sequel currently (I know it’s not done). It’s going to focus on a different character but Sarah will make appearances. I’m also working on a standalone sequel for her but that won’t be posted until the first sequel fic is complete.

47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made-up title. What would this story be about?I used a title generator: Hidden Midnight. It’s about a pair of idiots in love, one is a vampire so they can only meet at night and it’s very secretive. The human dies at the end.

48) What’s your favourite trope to write?Forced partnerships. I love it when two characters are forced into a partnership. One of them can’t fucking stand the other but slowly grows to like/love them in secret. If the chill one is in danger the annoyed one freaks the fuck out and does everything they can to get to their partner and afterwards claims they couldn’t care less what happened.

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?I don’t remember the name of it but I’m pretty sure it was a Supernatural fic. I think it was Destiel (don’t just middle school me) and a high school AU. I’m not 100% sure. It was either that or a Fairy Tail fic and I like to forget my anime days.

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?Angst. I love fluff and smut but in the end, I always go back to angst. It’s so much fun and there are so many ways to do it.

#ask

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the-manor-7 · 6 years ago

Text

Soulmate au - Namjoon pt.1

[au: Whatever you write on your skin, also appears on your soulmate's. This ability does not fade once you meet.]

I stared down at my arm and waited for the usual response from my mystery-soulmate.

I sipped my tea as I waited and looked around the small café I was sitting in.

It was cute, with the theme being more nature oriented than other eateries. Vines grew in terraces that reached the ceiling, flowers grew in pots that were scattered about the room, and a few domesticated birds flew around, occasionally taking notice of what people were eating and getting curious.

Despite the circumstantial susceptibility, the area was kept clean, with you rarely finding dirt or anything of the sort on the table or in the corners of the room.

It really was a nice place.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement, and I looked down at my arm, seeing a smiley face.

I was a senior, getting my doctorate degree in the English language and writing.

The first time this exchange of ideas occurred was when I had a burst of spontaneous creativity and had no paper near me. Not wanting to lose the idea, I took a pen out of my purse and started writing an expansive paragraph on my arm.

Now, normally, I do not write on my skin. I had the (in my opinion) bad habit trained out of me when I was a small child, so I never did indulge myself in the past.

So, this was a new occurrence for me, but I still expected nothing of it.

But, about an hour later, after I had finished writing and was getting on with my day, I happened to look down at my arm and saw something out of the ordinary.

There was a new sentence on my arm, but not in my own handwriting. It read: "You must be my soulmate! Wow, this is good! What is this for?"

Now, to tell you the truth, I did not reply until a few days later.

Growing up, my mother had always been wary of someone stealing her personal information, and I had inherited that trait. Due to this, I was very reluctant to write anything else on my arm.

But, curiosity got the best of me, and I replied: "Thank you for the compliment, and this is for my thesis that I need to write for school."

I know, not something many would find as an appropriate response to a new-found soulmate. But, at least I replied (that's what I like to think).

This pattern had been repeating for a few months now.

I write down a new idea, or something of the sort, and my soulmate replied.

The messages just started out as a vague question or praise, but they soon morphed into spelling/grammar corrections or new ideas.

Despite myself, I started to realize many of these new ideas I found intriguing and rather fitting, and I began to use them.

Somewhere along the way, they began to write lyrics on their arm, and I gave them pointers and praise on those.

This went on for a few months, and here I am today.

Today I had written another paragraph for a school paper, and the awaited reply came, as usual, but something new was written on my skin (or that of my soulmate, however you like to think of it). It read: "This is very good! Where do you go to school?"

This immediately made my hackles stand up and I glared down at the message, wishing it would disappear.

But, it didn't, it stayed on my arm the rest of the day, all through my classes and until I reached my apartment.

After I had cleaned myself up and gotten something to eat, I sat down on my couch and rolled my sleeve up.

I looked down at the most recent message and sighed.

Realizing what I was doing was ridiculous, I picked up a pen and decided to reply truthfully: "Thank you! And I go to school at the University of Idaho."

There was a quick response: "That is in America, right?"

I placed the pen down on my skin again: "Yes, it is. Why are you asking?"

"I am traveling to America next week, and I wondered if you wanted to meet up and go to a concert or something."

"Where would the concert be?"

"New York"

I sighed: "Sorry, but as you know, I am a college student trying to get my doctorate. I'm broke."

They took a few minutes to reply: "I can pay for your ticket. But, I need to know your name and address so I can send it to you."

Before I lost my nerve, I haphazardly scribbled down my personal information on my arm.

"Oh, your name is (y/f/n)? That name is very pretty!"

I grumbled: "Thanks, now I think I deserve to know your name too."

"Sorry," the answer was written down slowly, "But, you're going to have to wait until we meet. You'll understand then."

I glared at the familiar handwriting before replying: "Fine. Who are we going to see?"

"The group is called BTS."

Being the information-freak that I am, I pulled out my laptop and looked up the group.

They seemed to be a popular K-Pop group by the looks of it. Their members were: Jin, Suga, J-Hope, RM, Jimin, V, and Jungkook.

"I'm assuming you're looking them up?"

I paused to write back: "Of course."

"Lol, you nerd."

"You're one to talk." I paused: "By the way, how come you can pay for my ticket, but I can't? How old are you?"

It took them a few minutes to reply: "I'm twenty-four. What about you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"That makes sense, and the age difference isn't too big. That's good right?"

"It's fine. I'm comfortable with it."

"Can I ask you some more personal questions?"

"Why are you asking all of this now? We've been communicating for a few months, now."

"I figured one of us had to start the conversation. Do you mind if I ask?"

I glared down at the question: "I'm sorry, but I actually do mind. I would rather not give any more personal information before I learn yours."

"That's fine! I was just asking in case you agreed. And I can understand that, I'm hiding mine right now."

"Exactly. Besides, I already gave you my address. I think that's enough for now."

I looked at my arm that was now covered in ink.

"You're making a mess of my arm, I'm going to go wash it off."

"Wait!"

I stared down at the word as I froze on my way down the hallway.

"Ok, you can do it now. I'll clean mine off too."

I began to walk again.

Once it was done, I sat back down on the couch and watched as the ink on my soulmate's arm quickly faded away.

"So, when is the concert?"

"April 28th."

***

I looked up at the arena as the people around me murmured in excitement.

Today was the day, April 28th.

True to their word, my soulmate had sent me a ticket for my flight and the concert.

Despite my better judgment, I had actually stepped onto the plane, and now here I am. Granted, the entire time I was on the plane, I was berating myself for my stupidity.

Couldn't I have just waited a little longer?! I only have two more months of school left! And I still have exams to study for and a thesis to finish!!

Halfway through the flight, I felt like punching through the window and jumping out, going back to school and everything I had worked so long and hard for.

But, later, I managed to calm myself down to a more stable state of mind.

Though, I'm sure the process had been amusing to watch. I've been told many times I'm as easy to read as an open book.

Back to the present, I am now entering the arena, drifting among the almost hysterical fans.

I took out a pen and wrote on my arm: "Where are you?"

The reply came back a few minutes later: "Are you in the arena?"

"Yes, now answer my question."

It took them a couple more minutes: "Sorry, I just contracted a fever and a headache this morning, and I don't think I'm going to be able to make it to the concert. Can I meet up with you afterwards?"

I stared at the message in disbelief.

I just traveled across the country to see them, and they're backing out the last minute?!

I calmed myself down (but only slightly) and thought about their health: "Fine."

"I'm really sorry. I hope you enjoy the concert, though!"

I decided not to reply.

Steeling my nerves, I walked into the crowd of screaming people.

***

I sighed as I waited in line to meet BTS's members.

'Why are you here?' Some people might wonder.

Well, halfway through the concert, my soulmate wrote down another message on their arm: "Make sure to go to the fan-sign. I payed for that too."

And that's why I find myself standing here, in front of Jin.

"Hello! What is your name?" He asked as he smiled at me.

Politely, I smiled back, "It's nice to meet you, my name is Crystal."

"Oh, really?" He grabbed my album that I had bought not fifteen minutes before and signed it, "There you go, have a nice day!"

I smiled and bid him farewell as I moved on to Suga.

I found Suga amusing. He was pleasant and easy to talk to, but also very sarcastic (since he had a better understanding of the English language).

The next person was J-Hope, who reminded me of one of my closest friends. Full of energy and can talk a mile a minute.

When I took my seat in front of Namjoon, he smiled at me, and held out his hand to shake, "It's nice to meet you, what is your name?"

I took his hand, "It's nice to meet you as well, my name is (y/f/n)."

His eyes widened, "Does your name happen to be '(y/f/n) (y/l/n)'?" He said, hesitantly.

I quirked an eyebrow, "How do you know my name?"

"Well..." he pulled up his sleeve and displayed his arm, "l just might be your soulmate."

I looked at the messages scribbled across his arm and looked back up at him.

"You," I pointed a finger at him, "Better have a good explanation. Do you know how much stress you put me through? I still have a thesis to finish, and you know that!"

He had the audacity to laugh as he pulled his sleeve back down, "Yep, you definitely have the same personality."

"And you kept your personal information hidden, what is the point of that?"

"I'm a famous K-Pop idol, I can't just give my identity out to anyone, can I? Besides, I wanted it to be a surprise. Is that not a good enough reason?"

"No!" I flicked him in the forehead, "That's for tricking me into coming here and then abandoning me."

He rubbed his face and chuckled, "I had to get you here somehow. And I'm in the concert, it's not like I can be two places at once. But," he leaned forward and looked me in the eye, "I'm sorry I lied. Do you forgive me?"

I huffed before a smile began to grow on my face, "Fine. But, you owe me dinner."

"Deal. Wait..." it was his turn to get frustrated (if you could even call it that, he wasn't even angry), "Didn't I buy you the tickets to get here?"

"Yes" My smile was sickly-sweet, "But that's your duty, since we're soulmates, you know?"

He stared at me before shaking his head and laughing, "You really are something. And fine, I'll take you out to dinner."

I smiled, "Thanks."

Just then, a fan yelled at me to get out of the way.

He looked at me, guilty, "I'll meet up with you later, then?"

"Sure, that's fine. Right after everything is over?"

He nodded before signing my album and winking at me before moving onto the next person.

Well then, looks like I've found my soulmate. And it turns out, they just happen to be famous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments and requests!

Thank you,

The_Manor

Masterlist

#soulmate au #au #soulmate #namjoon #x reader

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loneberry · 7 years ago

Text

THE LOST GIRL’S HOME IS IN BOOKS: spring leisure reading

Girl Reading (1850), oil on canvas, Andre Fontaine

Writing on my phone. On the train. Woke with a sore throat. Snow outside the Manhattan window turning to sludge and then puddles. In the morning Alex and I made our way to Tisch to pick up books from Wendy and sit in on Fred Moten’s class. He spoke for three hours about a paragraph in Zalamea’s Synthetic Philosophy of Contemporary Mathematics, constellating the Isley Brothers with quantum physics with the history of slavery with Solange with financialization with the spatio-temporal dimensions of Judaism with critiques of the individuated liberal subject. In Fred’s presence I’m always in awe. When he says the stream of thought will go where it goes, I know what he means, what it feels like, to want to read everything. To have no filters. To be a being who is…interested. “You know, it’s like a river that winds through all these different terrains, and part of it winds through the history of science, and part of it winds through category theory and general topology, and part of it winds through Russian cinema—I’m just interested.” (Moten) Would like to linger more on the things I read and not just mark passages to return to…later. Has grad school de-skilled me? Has the process of becoming a “historian”—of having to read thousands of pages per class in grad seminars destroyed my ability to read slowly? Poetry is becoming harder to read. It demands a kind of attention other than the kind of attention I have become accustomed to—the temporality forced into me by the academic grind. Last semester I did my comprehensive exams. For two hours I was quizzed by 4 professors on the contents of ~400 books. My fields were: Prisons and Police; History and Political Economy of Race in America; Social and Political Theory (Marxism, psychoanalysis, critical theory, Frankfurt School, feminist/queer theory, post-structuralism); and Black Literature, Theory and Cultural Studies. “Studying” for my exams hardly felt like studying at all—I was just doing what I’ve always done: read. But the thing about being in academia is…you can’t just read what you want to read (unless you’re Fred!), you’re supposed to specialize. Your supposed to read within your discipline, to be monogamous with your dissertation topic. But sometimes…my mind needs ventilation. I need to let my mind wander. So this spring break I went on a kind of “retreat”—I rented a little eco-bungalow on a mountain overlooking the ocean in Deshaies, Guadalupe, with the intention to do nothing except read, journal & spend time in nature. It’s weird to now have a life where I have to schedule in these compressed snatches of leisure. Between my academic life and artist/public intellectual life all life is becoming work work work. Constant travel, mountains of assignments to grade, grant applications, bureaucracy, student emails, assigned readings, lesson planning, talks—in psychoanalysis I am sometimes too fatigued to finish my sentences. What was it? “The disquieting feeling that we don’t own ourselves.” My poor journal, neglected since last semester. Turned inside-out and called into presence by the Pavlovian PING of the push notification. Life becomes the work of feeding the avatar. It’s nothing new. It’s the same ole subject formation, in overdrive. The you of I (alienated Lacanian subject) — identification with an image of self that circulates as…I-am-that. When the avatar takes over your life, when you become what the public makes you…how can you find a way to re-inhabit your life as you? Quiet. Unplug. Has busyness evacuated my inner life? I’m still me. But look at how much my situation has changed…

Here are my notes on the books I read over spring break (some finished the week after I returned…)

Tolstoy - Anna Karenina

My skin takes it in. Ghosts enter and leave this vessel, Sunship Earth. Body, too, will become a ruined beach house covered in pale violet morning glory vines, its shutters still hinged shut. Now Nabokov is analyzing the varied march of time in Tolstoy—there is something like a moral in Kitty and Levin’s slow dance, against the locomotive thrust of Anna and Vronsky. A road—to where? The bull in the clearing, the smell of the tiny yellow flowers and the fade, the gloaming, the wall of water, peach-haloed in the sunset. The dimming, the peep of the first cicada, the crushed cicada that lost its way, the dream that wrote her destiny, the dirty peasant rooting around in the sack—the man split by the wheels of the locomotive. A force that nothing, no one escapes. [Holy shit. As I type these notes from my journal my train has been stopped in Providence because the train ahead of us hit someone]. Yes, I have had the dream of the man with his hand in my sack [“It was crowded in the market. I was trying to photograph the flowers but the image was distorted because a man had his hand in my backpack”]. Can a sudden silence wake a sleeping body? I think, as I wake, that I have caught the day in the precise moment of transition. What crossed over then, the wind swept the island clean. Like Anna Karenina I have been under the spell of the dream: what I now no longer know if I can trust. Nothing could have saved Anna the terrible omen flashing above her life…

Nabokov - Lectures on Russian Literature

Freud and Baldwin love Dostoyevsky. Nabokov loathes him. What does that tell you about the kinds of people who love and hate Dostoyevsky? Lovers of Dostoyevsky: hysterics, neurotics, fringe-dwellers, madmen. Dostoyevsky is to literature what Zulawski is to cinema (emotional excess–which is why teens also love Dostoyevsky). This whole book is an argument for Tolstoy and against Dostoyevsky. Lovers of Tolstoy: the good, the moral, the erudite, Oprah. Nabokov is a snob à la Adorno, but his lectures on Tolstoy are damn good (skip the ones on Dostoyevsky), especially the ones on dreams and time in Anna K.

Nabokov and Barabtarlo - Insomnia Dreams

This book is pretty fucking cool. It is an inventory of Nabokov’s proleptic dreams, which he wrote down on notecards after reading J. W. Dunne’s An Experiment with Time. Dunne was an aeronautical engineer and crackpot philosopher who developed what I sometimes call stoner dream theory. He believed that past-present-future exist simultaneously and that the experience of time as an arrow moving forward is an effect of waking consciousness. In dreams we are unhitched from normative time and can access the future–are touched by future events.

Notebook notes: Dunne and Nabokov dream to know time in every direction. So future events loop back to pierce our sleeping heads. Did I believe—the future is making contact with me. What did the dream corrupt? I could not outrun it. Nabokov dreaming of South Station [strange, that’s where I’m headed as I type up these notes…]. Dreams of the lepidopterist: chasing the butterflies with a giant spoon instead of a net. Sometimes he’s an insufferable pedant. But even pedants can have a compelling dream life…

Lemov - Database of Dreams: The Lost Quest to Catalog Humanity

Professor Lemov teaches in the History of Science department at Harvard. She is currently a faculty fellow in a year-long Crime and Punishment seminar at Harvard that I am also a part of. I first got interested in her work after she presented an excellent paper on the history of Cold War behaviorist experiments (many of which were conducted on prisoners, including the practice of “psychosurgery”) and early efforts to use data to construct psychological theories of deviance. When I found out she wrote a history of a dream database, I knew I had to read it.

This book is a history of Bert Kaplan’s ambitious mid-20th century quest to create a database of dreams and psychological data (called the Primary Records in Culture and Personality), which consists of a collection of the raw notes of the thoughts, feelings, and dreams of people from around the world, stored on the now-obsolete technology of the Microcard. It is at once a history of: microfilm technologies, data science, the information storage ambitions of postwar social scientists and anthropologists, and psychologists’ obsession with the dreams and unconscious thoughts of ethnic “others.” The story of the database is fascinating in itself…but I wanted to know more about what was in the repository. Sometimes the unconscious speaks:

“A man named Birch Tree told of a dying young man of his acquaintance who had dreamed too ambitiously: one night, he was able to see ‘every leaf in the whole world’ and perished soon after, like the leaves that fall from the trees each year.”

“dream #19, in which he was shooting birds, surrounded by sunflowers as big as evergreen trees”

“Dreams were “palimpsests for understanding what could be called ‘not-self,’ the place at which the self begins to shade away into nothingness or something else.”

“If you sat in a library looking at someone’s dreams, what were you seeing?”

The database of dreams was dead on arrival.

But there’s another living database of dreams assembled by oneirologist Kelly Bulkeley: http://sleepanddreamdatabase.org/ – have read and enjoyed several of Bulkeley’s books too. The convocation of the oneirologists…

Sliwinski - Mandela’s Dark Years

How strange, I read this two days before the death of Winnie Mandela. Did Nelson dream of Winnie while in prison? There is a lot to chew on in this little book. I keep returning to the dream that is circled in the text, Nelson Mandela’s dream from prison:

I had one recurring nightmare. In the dream, I had just been released from prison—only it was not Robben Island, but a jail in Johannesburg. I walked outside the gates into the city and found no one there to meet me. In fact, there was no one there at all, no people, no cars, no taxis. I would then set out on foot toward Soweto. I walked for many hours before arriving in Orlando West, and then turned the corner toward 8115. Finally, I would see my home, but it turned out to be empty, a ghost house, with all the doors and windows open, but no one at all there.

The subject in absentia dreams their erasure while in prison, the experience of becoming-ghost. (Mandela’s recurring nightmare. How apartheid structures the geography of the unconscious…)

Szabó - The Door

“If there was [an] article about what to read once you’ve finished Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels, The Door—though it lacks the scope of those books—might top the list.” I read no such list but did finish the Neapolitan novels last year. I read The Door after it was recommended by 3 of my feminist friends.

To say what this book is about would fail to get at the experience of reading this book. It’s deeply disturbing and all the more so because Emerence, the narrator’s housekeeper, is the exact likeness of my aunt Helen. They are women for whom every emotional door has been sealed shut. They both had dogs that were passionately attached to them. Under what conditions does the wound grow into an impenetrable shell? Grow into the pride of self-sufficiency…

Notes: The book is bookended by a recurring nightmare of a door that won’t open. An ambulance outside, and the silhouettes of paramedics seen through glass. Most of my dreams are about the absence of shelter, porous structures, rooms that are always open to invaders. But here is a nightmare about being trapped inside with someone in need of help. Ferrante’s Days of Abandonment resonates too.

Resonances. Lightning strikes the two babes Emerence was fleeing with. In Anna Karenina, lightning missed Kitty and child. The plots of two novels are crossed. What characters evade in one novel befalls characters in another. It’s like the books are talking to each other through the body of me.

Schmitt - Political Theology

We should discuss this book in person. My thoughts are too sprawling to give shape to them here. People on the left read Schmitt for his critique of liberalism and though there are parts of it I find compelling (I’ve elaborated the concept of a “financial state of exception” in my book Carceral Capitalism), the part about liberal democracy lacking decisionism because it’s weighed down by a Weberian bureaucracy is, I think, wrong. Well, that’s what I felt while reading McCoy’s In the Shadows of the American Century immediately following Political Theology.

McCoy - In the Shadows of the American Century

This book is part of an ever-growing body of literature on the decline of US hegemony and the rise of China as a global superpower. But what this book adds to the analysis is a thought-provoking discussion of the changing nature of geopolitical struggles–from a navel-based strategy to a land-based strategy. McCoy unpacks the influence of Halford Mackinder’s theory of the Geographical Pivot of History, which posits that the future belongs to whoever controls the Eurasian landmass (the World-Island). During the Cold War the US has maintained its hegemony by controlling key axial points–through NATO in western Europe (on the west side of the World-Island), and the strategic positioning of military/naval bases around the Pacific, and the forging of political and economic alliances with South Korea, Japan, the Philippines, etc. This book is a good overview of how the US built and maintained its empire, and offers possible blueprints for its decline (McCoy’s analysis of Obama’s attempts to salvage US hegemony through his “pivot toward Asia” and Trump’s acceleration of the decline of US hegemony was interesting…). After reading about the CIA’s covert operations in Latin America I felt that liberal democracy is not at all lacking decisionism, as Schmitt says, but like all states it maintains its power through brute force (militarism/war), international diplomacy, strategic alliances, soft power, proxy warfare and covert operations, international trade agreements, technological prowess, surveillance, etc.

Saterstrom - Ideal Suggestions

What is the relationship between what is seen and unseen?

Saterstrom’s poetics can be summed up by her line: “dust mote footing the invisible”–the “thing” itself is often absent, even as it mutates everything present, but there are ways to access ghosts, traces, invisible forces, and the disappeared. Like a projection that flashes when it catches smoke in the phantasmagoria–you can catch it in the transition.

The form of the book is satisfying. I enjoy the way it alternates between ars poetica and the enactment of the poetics it is trying to sketch.

Notes:

“In the other world everything also exists. But in versions complicated by the softness that dissolution makes.”

“what happens between women when the center of female triangulation is scarcity and lack?”

Simone Weil: “When a contradiction is impossible to resolve except by a lie, then we know that it is really a door.”

divinatory poetics as a way to bear “the absurdity and enchantment of human experience”

to write from “within the membranous precincts between our multiple bodies in the larger rhizomatic field of resonances, where much is sounding and is also unsounded.”

Christian Hawkey: “the holes in our bodies and skulls are voice chambers, sound chambers, wherein our own voiced selves and the voiced selves of others constantly enter and exit, and are changed by our bodies upon entrance, exit. Consciousness…is less a vehicle for “self-presence” than a void, a blank space at the site of intersection.”

“the friendship of our ghosts”

“A raw garnet dug up from earth appears as a piece of burned glass and smells of warm dirt. How did this garnet come to rest here, pinned between sky and sea, a mineral between the here and hereafter? Lines made through the absenting of lines, they suggest their phantom shapes into calligraphy. And someone arrives, a dead poet, she writes in an elegant script a poem about geese. It is a melancholic poem featuring geese, a landscape, and reflections about death. How do the deceased live within the blurred calligraphic strokes dependent upon whatever it was we erased? Who was here first? The process of being read, truly read. One day our lines appear in some other’s erasure.”

Where Freedom Starts (an anthology of essays on #MeToo)

This is an excellent collection of essays on #MeToo that captures the spectrum of feminist responses to the nascent movement. It includes black feminist critiques of carceral feminism, a discussion of black and Latinx vulnerability to sexual violence in the sphere of domestic labor, queer critiques of moral sex panics, feminist analyses of social reproduction, analyses of how undocumented women are hyper-vulnerable to sexual assault in the workplace (and at risk of deportation if they report sexual abuse), and more. I appreciate that many of these essays attempt to grapple with the emotionally and politically messy aspects of sexual violence–How do we determine the category or degree of the harm done? What you do when you feel ambivalence toward your rapist and internalize blame? How is victimhood constructed? I plan to return to these topics and questions in an essay I hope to write in May.

**This ebook is free from Verso.** Get it here.

Marina Van Zuylen - The Plentitude of Distraction

If I ever teach my Lost Girls class on the poetics of wandering, I would definitely include this book!! So, so good. Yes, the poet needs to give herself over to her reveries. To luxuriate in the waywardness of experience–the soul cut loose.

Notes: Darwin’s great regret: “Up to the age of thirty, or beyond it, poetry of many kinds … gave me great pleasure, and even as a schoolboy I took intense delight in Shakespeare, especially in the historical plays. I have also said that formerly pictures gave me considerable, and music very great delight. But now for many years I cannot endure to read a line of poetry: I have tried lately to read Shakespeare, and found it so intolerably dull that it nauseated me. I have also almost lost my taste for pictures or music…. My mind seems to have become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large collections of facts, but why this should have caused the atrophy of that part of the brain alone, on which the higher tastes depend, I cannot conceive…. If I had to live my life again, I would have made a rule to read some poetry and listen to some music at least once every week; for perhaps the parts of my brain now atrophied would thus have been kept active through use. The loss of these tastes is a loss of happiness, and may possibly be injurious to the intellect, and more probably to the moral character, by enfeebling the emotional part of our nature.”

Discussed this Darwin passage with my analyst for some time. I don’t want to become a work machine! Give me “delicious idleness”!

“stop measuring your days by what you can report to your boss or to your conscience”

waywardness: “reveries unfasten him from his constructed social persona, eventually converting dispersal into a gathering of self-hood”

Blaise Pascal, Pensées: “The only thing that consoles us for our miseries is diversion. And yet it is the greatest of our miseries. For it is that above all which prevents us thinking about ourselves and leads is imperceptibly to destruction. But for that we should be bored, and boredom would drive us to seek some more solid means of escape, but diversion passes our time and brings us imperceptibly to our death.”

“the pure pleasure of a contemplative experience”

“It is not too late to side with some of the great propagandists of wasted time, with the practitioners of reverie, and cultivate the pleasures and pains of mental mayhem.”

Marx - Capital Vol 1

It’s always a good time to re-read Marx. In December I started a Capital reading group with my comrades LaKeyma and Joohyun. Marx is best read with your women of color crew!

Sithole - Steve Biko: Decolonial Meditations of Black Consciousness

Did an event with the incredible Tendayi Sithole at NYU (moderated by Fred Moten and Wendy Lotterman), so I wanted to read Tendayi’s work on Biko before the event. Many parts of the book draw on Afropessimism to analyze Biko’s liberatory political philosophy. We had a long discussion (privately and during the panel) about Afropessimism’s reception in South Africa (”it’s given us a language to understand our predicament,” says Tendayi). Such good work, and such a wonderful person and poet too!! During the reading Fred said Tendayi and I “became a band.”

McGuckian - The Flower Master

Re-read this at the Deshaies botanical gardens in Guadalupe. Unfuckwithable. McGuckian is one of my favorite poets of all time. Also read the parts about McGuckian in Northern Irish Poetry and the Russian Turn. Had no idea McGuckian draws so heavily from Russian literature, and that she feels there is a natural kinship between Russians and the Irish due to their historical predicaments…

Harford - Fifty Inventions that Shaped the Modern Economy

Pop economic/business and tech history. Replete with compelling stories and fun facts about underappreciated inventions. The chapters I was most interested in were the ones about inventions that fundamentally transformed gendered labor (TV dinners, infant formula, the birth control pill). After a while this books started to annoy me because the novelty wore off and I can only handle so much praise of the so-called wonders of capitalism.

Brogaard and Marlow - The Superhuman Mind

I don’t think I’m any smarter after having read this book. It’s somewhere between pop science (in the style of Oliver Sacks) and self-improvement literature. The book tries to give you mental “hacks”–mnemonics and algorithmic mental shortcuts. Most of the the book describes case studies of people who have accidentally unlocked superhuman mental capacities as a result of a brain injury, stroke, etc…or they were just born neurologically atypical. Synesthetes have good memories. If you’ve ready any of the pop sci books on memory you already know these tricks… the Greeks have known about the Memory Room for a while too…

Still reading:

Moten’s Black and Blur

Anne Boyer’s A Handbook of Disappointed Fate

Doudna and Sternberg’s A Crack in Creation: Gene Editing and the Unthinkable Power to Control Evolution

Frank Stanford - The Battlefield Where the Moon Says I Love You

#books #leisure reading #reading

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clumsyclifford · 3 years ago

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hello!! i am back and on desktop this time. the blog is just as pretty. alex + yellow = v v attractive jfc. this is a long one so buckle in.

to begin: i hope you have the most fun on your day road trip and sing your heart out to atl and taylor swift. i love driving long distances and idk just driving in general is fun. have the absolute best time MWAH

my birthday is in november!! november 23 to be specific. i share it with miley cyrus which is something i always found to be very cool when i was growing up and watching hannah montana. it also means i am a sagittarius and funny little fact i realized is that my best friend is a gemini. alex and jack are also a sagittarius and a gemini. from being 13 i know that tyler and josh from twenty one pilots are also a sagittarius and a gemini. something about sagittarius and gemini besties idk.

also yeah!! ao3 year in review!! it's a bit complicated to figure out at first and if you read a lot the finding pages thing can be pretty tedious, but it's def worth it once you figure it out. it gives you a lot of different stats about everything you read and it's pretty cool. now i am going to go look at your fics to remember my favs. you deserve the praise so i am willing to offer it. jeez you write a lot i respect the motivation sm. you write quite a bit of angst and i won't lie i try to stay away from angst so i haven't read your fics that seem super angst-y based on the tags. BUT there are still so many i recall reading and loving nonetheless. on a quick scroll-through: i usually don't read high school AUs but "paint me in trust (i'll be your best friend)" was super adorable and lovely. "thank god i'm yours" is one of my favs iirc. also i love love love "it's not always easy (but i'm here forever)" like yes please romanticize alex gaskarth i love it sm. "i won't be silent (and i won't let go)" and "i fell asleep in a city that doesn't" are both super fluffy and romantic and are favs of mine. in case you haven't picked up on it i adore very fluffy and romantic fics lmao. alright i am continuing to scroll and there are so many more i could list that i love but this section is getting quite long. just know if it's about a kitchen or hotel rooms being for lovers i probably read it and adored it and that pov is so valid.

waterparks!! will not lie i only really started listening to them about 6 months ago having been distantly aware of their existence for several years by being a fan of bands in the same genre. listen as long as you let yourself be vaguely annoyed by awsten is prevents you from being in love with him. follow him on any social media platform for like a day and you'll be sick of him typing in nothing but all caps within hours. simply do not romanticize him and you can keep yourself from falling!! so this is coming from a slightly fake parx fan, but some of my favs by them have been peach (lobotomy), crave, numb, fuzzy, violet!, you'd be paranoid too, and lowkey as hell. that is a very songs-from-their-most-recent-album-heavy rec, but whatever. i did give the disclaimer about being a fake parx fan.

yeah hayley does have 2 solo albums now!! petals for armor and flowers for vases / descansos. pfa is the one i didn't really like upon first listen but has grown on me. i haven't even listened to the second one in its entirety oops but we won't mention it. dead horse is good but simmer (pretty sure that was the other single??) just ain't it for me. the album has some lovely songs but it's just a hit or miss album all the way through. some favs of mine on it include pure love, taken, crystal clear, watch me while i bloom, and why we ever. it's sorta a storyline album about healing if that adds anything to it?? but anyways. i started listening to paramore around the time after laughter dropped and it grew to be one of my fav albums in existence. idle worship is probably one of my fav songs like ever. i def understand being slightly put off by bands with songs that make religious references (me with twenty one pilots' earlier music that makes a lot more religious references considering i'm not religious whatsoever) but i think i am blinded by being in love with hayley williams and just ignore it. idk that she's like super religious?? she's addressed believing in god and stuff a few times but she's def not the "rub it in your face" type and if she's making refs in music more recently then they're subtle enough i'm not noticing them. ik albums like brand new eyes had a lot more because it was shortly after that the band split and the songwriting process was essentially her and ex-bandmate co-songwriter arguing about their religious beliefs (turns out he ended up being super homophobic and transphobic all based on his religion so do with that what u will and thank the clown for leaving). i feel u on the "i meant to start listening to them" because that's essentially how i started listening to them. i told myself i was going to and then finally forced myself to do it. fuck falling for awsten knight what's more risky is falling in love with hayley </3

also yeah!! you've articulated my feelings towards tde. every song is so vastly different that it's hard to like it all. #1 fan is pretty decent though, and that's not just my bias about finding both ross and his gf hot and a cute couple and getting to see them together and ross half naked in a mirror in the video nope not at all. he's my fav himbo!! he has no personality!! no thoughts head empty!! i still love him and his strawberry-growing saga on twitter tho <3 the hazard of being in love with ross lynch since i was 12. girlfriend better be a fucking banger and there's quite a few already released singles in the tracklist so i have hope. i believe my show is in chicago on november 19 which is a thursday. kinda sucks since i intentionally bought the chicago tix nearly two years ago (the show was originally supposed to be april 25 2020. lol.) because the show was on a saturday and i have to drive 3 hours to get there. obviously i can't speak for them as tde but r5 shows always fucking slapped and i can vouch for them (realized i haven't seem them live since 2016?? 5 YEARS?? wtf) so if u genuinely like them. would recommend going to see them.

anyways. i have not listened to luke's solo album yet. i plan on it. this has gotten so long but i tried to respond in all areas and even organized it in different paragraphs this time (thanks being on desktop!!). hope you are well. hope you have a lovely day. hmm what's a little "going on in my life" fact. i got new glasses a few days ago and my eyes essentially said fuck off because adjusting to the new prescription has left me with eyes that hurt and occasionally slightly nauseous. here is to hoping my eyes get their shit together. mwah LOVE YOU TOO - the other bella/cubs anon/idk

okay hi hello. i have put this off because holy hell it's long but let's do it. i am putting a cut because this whole thing is long even without my answer

first: the road trip was super fun thank you!!! i am intrigued by this information regarding sags and geminis, we should do some scientific inquiry. enquiry. i don't know if there's a difference between those words.

aha! well i tried the ao3 year in review thing and i would say it had about 55% accuracy but still i agree it's fun to look back at that kind of stuff. and i feel you on the angst thing i go through phases of writing angst-heavy stuff and then writing very fluffy stuff and it is entirely based on my mental state buuuut i have lots of fluff and i'm glad you found it all and that you liked it yay <333 KITCHENS ARE FOR LOVERS i will die on that fuckin hill. hotel rooms as well but primarily kitchens.

dfgjhgdlfkhgdfmj honestly i dont use twitter enough that i would see his tweets enough that that would bother me also the fact that he tweets in all caps means that i just picture him yelling everything he tweets which i find absolutely hysterical so i don't think that would help. i have added these parx songs to my listen asap playlist and will get to them when i get a chance thank you i am excited also i already know lowkey as hell and it slaps super hard so im very much lookin forward to the rest of these. merci merci

YEAH simmer was the one i didnt vibe with. and honestly i feel zero compulsion to get into hayley williams as a solo artist. i just don't vibe enough to want to do that so i doubt i'll be listening to her anytime soon but maybe if i hear the songs in passing or get super bored one night, idk who can really say. but yeah christianity typically puts me off of music (speaking as a very jewish bitch) although there are notable exceptions in the cases of thomas rhett and the driver era. i'm just not attached to hayley enough to be like ehhh this doesnt matter. does that make sense

FAVORITE HIMBO PLEASE HGSDFGDFGKLFGJ i dont follow him on twitter but i have seen some interviews of ross and rocky and tbh they're great i love the way ross speaks like i like his speech mannerisms and i like his FACE and HAIR and. yeah. i think hes pretty. and i think he and 5sos SHOULD collab i think that would be sexy as hell. can you imagine that. oh my god can you imagine a ross lynch/luke hemmings collab. i'm not even really talking to you anymore bella because i know you haven't listened to luke yet and don't have a stake in it but if anyone else is reading this long ass answer. ross & luke collab. okay im going to move on and not think about that now. but i probably won't see tde unless i get a job this semester because i'm trying to stop spending so much money on big indulgent things like concerts likeee i was in a really good habit of not spending that much and then suddenly i got paid for one summer and i was just goin Crazy and i need to dial it back. plus i wanna see ajr and noah kahan equally bad so like. i have to make some calls about priorities here. it's Much to think about

good luck to your eyes i'm sure your new glasses are hella cute tho!!! LOVE YOUUUUUUU

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megacircuit9universe · 5 years ago

Text

The Last Touchstone

FRI FEB 14 2020

So, since my last entry, it’s been... I would call it, a, “noisy,” news week.

What I mean by that is... there was one big story... and then there were a string of other stories, with a different narrative, which, I sense were being pushed to drown out the one big story.

The one big story was... Bernie Sanders decisively became the front runner for the Democratic nomination. He won New Hampshire... with Joe Biden placing 5th... and Polls afterward had him not only taking California and Texas in the near future, but also the easy winner of the nomination.

And though this got a bit of coverage in the media, and made newspaper headlines... it was split screened, at the very least, or totally drowned out later in the week, by obsessive coverage of Trump doing exactly what we expected him to be doing, after being acquitted by the Senate... which also was exactly what we expected the Senate to do.

He started by firing Vindman and Sondland, who testified against him to the House. Who thought they were going to keep their jobs after that? I didn’t. Did they?

Then Barr of course, pressured the DOJ team who’d been prosecuting Roger Stone, to recommend a sentence half what they were planning on (7 to 9 years) after an angry tweet from Trump... a move which caused every member of that prosecution team to resign from the case, or quit the DOJ altogether.

That’s clearly an abuse of power on Trump’s part, but it’s exactly the same kind of shit he was doing before the impeachment... and Barr obeyed him exactly as he always does. This was not new or surprising... except for the fact that the prosecution all resigned immediately.

That’s the headline, and if anything, it thwarts Trump and Barr, because it halts the sentence recommendation, and give the Judge (as well as the House) time and cause to look into possible wrongdoing from the AG... and Barr could soon face his own impeachment trial, or be forced to resign.

At any rate, in my book it seems Trump’s impeachment did nothing but hurt him here, as it put a spotlight on this nefarious behavior which would otherwise have happened in the shadows... and punctuated how wrong his acquittal was, thus hurting his loyals in the Senate.

Okay, but the mainstream media focused on Trumps retaliatory actions as if they were unprecedented, and took the fear mongering angle that he was becoming an autocrat... and what the hell are we gonna do now?..

...to the exclusion of any meaningful coverage on the contest to decide Trump’s 2020 opponent... for which there is now a clear front runner, as well as a couple more strong candidates.

They don’t want to look at that contest, because the candidates they wanted to oppose Trump... Biden, or if not Biden, then Warren... are both doing miserably in these early primaries, and will both probably drop out before March is over.

So instead of talking about the candidates who are doing well, with Sanders leading the pack... they’d rather fear monger about Dictator Trump, and hope that voters will pick up, from their silence about the primaries... that all hope is lost, unless Biden and/or Warren can be raised from the dead.

What exactly do I mean by fear mongering?

I’ll give Rachel Maddow as an example here... but bear in mind that I’ve been watching her regularly since 2017 and in all that time, have been a biggggg fan of hers. Loved her! Praised her!

But this week she did a segment about Trump’s post acquittal retaliations in which she was uncharacteristically hysterical.

She said that the resignations of the DOJ prosecutors for Stone, after Barr pulled rank on them because of a Trump tweet, were meaningless... because all resignations in protest are meaningless now... because everybody in the Executive Branch who have stood up to Trump, from them, to Vindman and Sondland, to Bolton, to everybody... she listed everybody...

...have had their lives, “destroyed,” by Trump.

This... made me physically gag to hear her assert it, in such an animated, alarmist tone... for two big reasons;

1) No their lives were not destroyed.

2) No matter what they suffer, it’s part and parcel of taking the oath.

On the first point... he fired them. They lost nice jobs paying good money. Oh no! Every single one of them will land on their feet... if not by retiring on the piles of money they already have, then by just getting other jobs, or by writing books, doing the lecture circuit, being political pundits on MSNBC... the opportunities for these people are endless.

To say that their lives have been destroyed is a gigantic insult to people’s who’s lives have been destroyed, either by unjust presidential policies of the past, by putting them in jail (war on drugs), putting them out on the street (economic policies), deporting them, etc... OR... their lives have been literally ended by going off to war to fight for our constitution with actual guns in actual battles against armed combatants.

Which leads to the second point... they took the same oath as any member of the military.

We say that Vindman and Sondland were brave... but they were doing their fucking jobs, according to the oath everybody takes when they take a job with the Executive Branch. Same for these prosecutors who resigned.

It’s not bravery to stand by an oath you took when entering public service. It’s cowardice to do anything but.

I’ve said this before, and I need to say it again, there is nothing in the oath to defend our constitution that says, “unless it’s really inconvenient, or could cause you undo public embarrassment on social media, or could force you to retire and live off your fortune before you were ready.”

And for Rachel Maddow, of all people, to imply that the relative inconvenience these people have suffered standing up to a real constitutional menace... is too high a price to pay, and that therefore, such stands in the future are meaningless now... is truly galling... given the powerful megaphone she used to say it.

Nowhere in that segment did she say, “But don’t worry, because we have some good Democratic candidates to vote for to put an end to this nightmare just a few months from now.”

It was unmitigated fear mongering... coming from a state of deep denial about where the American public is actually going in 2020... and done in a desperate attempt to raise centrism from its grave.

Because 20th Century style centrism... and the status quo capitalism that goes along with it... is the bread and butter of Rachel Maddow, as well as her mainstream journalist colleagues.

This same week, Chris Matthews stated fears that if Bernie were president, there would be public lynchings of the elite in Times Square, and Chuck Todd likened Bernie supporters to, “brown shirts,” a statement that got him a slap in the face by the Anti Defamation League... likening Bernie, a Jew, who grew up with holocaust survivors, to Hitler.

In short, Centrists are terrified of Trump, on the one hand, because they are fantastically over blowing the significance of his Senate acquittal (which I’ve already covered is par for the course in a Presidential impeachment, but never saves the impeached party from immediate retirement) and fearing he will throw them all in Guantanamo next week... now that he has no checks at all on his awesome power (his approval ratings are always shit, nearly 80% of the public wants him removed, the courts hate his guts, one half of congress hates him, and the other half is up for reelection).

On the other hand Bernie Sanders, if elected, will command his brown shirts to hang them all in Times Square, because they have comfortable livelihoods.

These are mostly boomers, by the way, and boomers are the generation who invented centrism... this philosophy of being sympathetic to social justice issues, but also sympathetic to conservative financial concerns... give me my huge paycheck, and McMansion in my gated community, and keep my taxes low... but also... hey, racism is bad and gays are people too!

For boomer centrists, it’s about... staying true to your teenage rebellious phase, when you protested the man, because it was cool... but also enjoying the life of the man... and the system the man made for you... it’s a balance.

There are a lot of conservative folks to the right of center, so... it’s easy to go a bit left and just... balance that out. But keep the see-saw level! Center! Level! Balance!

In the closing paragraph of my last entry, In so many words, I argued that Trump has concentrated so much weight... so far right of center... that the only way to counter it now... is to get further left.

But, when you’re a centrist... any change is inconvenience, and any inconvenience is equivalent to having your life destroyed!

We’re not supposed to live in history... we’re only supposed to use history as a way to impose our centrist views on everybody, to keep it from changing!

They obsess over two periods of time... WW2, and the 1960s. In the former era, some generation of sad souls gave their lives to put down totalitarianism around the globe and keep the world free.

In the latter... another unfortunate generation... (the Silent Generation for the most part), endured all kinds of horrors (including high profile assassinations to JFK, RFK, and MLK) to secure the civil rights we all enjoy today.

All of this was selflessly done to settle all the major problems in life... for us!.. the people who don’t have to be inconvenienced by history anymore :D

And if any candidate, or social issue has ever threatened to upset that... well... they just analyze WW2 at everybody... and analyze the 1960s at everybody... until the problem slinks away into the shadows of shame.

This is why Bernie will be hanging the elites in Times Square, and why Trump is already an all powerful Hitler... and also why the only person who can save us is the former VP of Obama... because without Hillary Clinton in the race... Biden is the last touchstone of the world they knew.

It wasn’t always a world they liked... with Reagan and Bush pulling their naughty conservative shenanigans during their allotted terms on the Presidential see saw... but it was a world where the corrupt ones... the Nixons, stepped down.

Despite the political cold snaps and heat waves, over the long run, life always remained stable.

Just like the climate!

And, just as climate change is the result of boomer centrism constantly ignoring the warning signs, because to acknowledge them would result in inconvenience...

...so too, we can see pretty clearly in February of 2020... Trump’s Presidency itself was the result of these same people gate-keeping Bernie Sanders out of the nomination process in 2016.

I’ll state that again for emphasis;

Trumps Presidency was the result of centrists gate-keeping Bernie Sanders out of the 2016 nomination process.

This was done by the DNC putting their thumb on the scales in a few key primaries to favor Clinton... and in the General election it was done by overwhelming press coverage, assuring everybody that Clinton was going to win the Presidency by a landslide.

The former action had the result of alienating an organic grassroots movement of progressive voters across the nation. The latter, convinced them to stay home, because they were not needed, while simultaneously daring Trump supporters to come out and vote, because they would not matter.

And having learned nothing, they meant to go right back to that same script this time around, with Biden.

But it’s not an option this time around... and they’re having nervous breakdowns about it. Huge, panic ridden nervous breakdowns, calling for everybody to just give up hope.

All of this said... and with the hour growing late...

Bernie was right, in his victory speech in New Hampshire, to point out that he’s put together a grass roots coalition which is multiracial, and multigenerational. It doesn’t depend on any one demographic, because it has significant voting power coming from all of them... and it’s not gonna be easily swept aside, either by billionaires, or mainstream neglect, or Trump power stunts... because it does have roots... it has real weight... and he’s in the lead... and gaining momentum.

Okay, that’s enough for one entry.

I’ve got work in the morning.

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thepineapplejuicer · 8 years ago

Text

Nothing Special

-Alesha Salgado

They were best friends, attached at the hip, detached at the heart.

What was her name?

The one I watched, the one who pats my head, limp and tragically. She has black hair, white face; pure at the fingertips and chalky at the palms. I purr when I see her.

She comes here often.

Yet less and less as the year goes on. She was here when my owner lost brotherly respect, when the hospital was on line 2 and depression never called a suicide hotline. She was here when I came to this home and every time my owner wanted to leave.

She was always here, but what was her name?

My owner sleeps facing the wall, her back to her best friend. Possibly dreaming of her newest relationship, committed to a boy with crispy hair and razor jawline.

Anytime his name came up the room buzzed with complements and undying acceptance, but my owners best friend would choke.

I always thought it was strange when her smile disappeared the moment he arrived and how she would leave immediately.

Why I wonder?

Why did her eyes snap open with conceded rage?

I was the only one who noticed as I stare from a far.

Tonight was different.

My eyes doze off as I lay at the top of the scratching post, one of my claws hooked onto a string. The lights are off, but a bright screen shatters the darkness.

She is writing again.

She does that when she can't sleep.

I jump onto the bed and step on her back, creeping up to discover what she is typing.

She is too concentrated to notice my small paws walking on her.

I squint my tired eyes passed the blatant speed she typed. I follow her every word, wanting desperately to tell my owner what letters fall from her best friends eyes. She must be able to see in color because what she wrote could torment the blind.

In typed up letters I read a gorgeous confession vomited in a cesspool of desire,

Control and weakness is hysterical, especially when it contaminates the stone statues. Unaware of the Power I could fall to, you besieged me with forces of confusion and Irregular dreams. He may have stained your resilient eyes and polluted your unconditionally pure heart, he may have torn you down but I can envision a monument of seraphic beauty I could reconstruct. I am not asking for you to return my love, but I must confess in order to extenuate the swelling of my heart. It is excruciating every time I see you and I try countless times to push my feelings aside, when you were present I lose focus. I am in turmoil; I am a sea with no current or frothy bubbles, I am weak to my feelings for you and I can no longer contain this. I am not asking for you to care for me in return, if you have come to terms that you never wish to see me that way I understand completely. Yet if you feel as I do, I am confident that our friendship will endure indefinitely through any crucible life cements around us. I confess I've had these feelings for sometime yet I was afraid you would push me away; be disgusted. I am writing this as a girl who rejects to be fearful of the unknown and as you read this I hope that this letter of confession is embraced as a best friend or as more.

With heavy heart,

ACS

I never knew.

I could never tell.

She was a best friend who missed her chance and condemned herself to drown in her own secret.

She's suffocating.

She's gullible.

She will die if she holds her nose and clasps her mouth as she bites on her tongue.

She does it anyway.

Why?

My owners newest boyfriend was lucky to snatch an ounce of happiness her best friend yearned for.

And the one in the middle of it all, my owner, never knew how beautiful her best friend cried.

I witnessed it.

All of it.

She finishes this letter and sighs deeply. I glance at her for a hint on her next move.

Then it happened.

She made a sacrifice and by a firm hold on the paragraph that could make the sun hide and it's clouds tremble, she deleted every word.

The bright light disappears and in the mist of broken-hearted betrayal I see a glimmer of something strange.

New and terrifying, yet warm and potent. It reminds me of a bee sting; burning my chest and numbing my eyes. It pours out of this girl like a river of screams. A heart reveals a stitched pattern, glued and taped. Soft words send a shock threw my tale, "the risk will tear me apart."

"What?" My owner asks sleepily.

There is a long pause from her best friend.

"Nothing Special." She smiles, knowing her tears are inaudible and invisible.

And so she kept it hidden.

Time passed and chips of her heart fell. I just watched, trying to catch the strange mist that surrounded her heart with my claws. The nights and days passed and she stayed, exhausted and alone, by my owners side. She watched the boy come over and hold her true love while I watched her be miserable. I sat from far away when I see her choking on her tears, transforming them into a shameless smile.

She said nothing.

She did nothing.

But when her heart erupted and cracked she smiled.

Why?

Why does she smile when her chest tightens with damnation?

One night I hear the best friend whisper as my owner snores.

It is soft.

It is innocent.

It was something called Love. It rolled off her tongue with poise and sugar. "I love you." She says again, choking on her own tears.

Love.

That is what I name the first color I see grow in her chest everyday.

Love.

If you’re interested in anymore of my work check out my WattPad page at https://www.wattpad.com/user/leesh54_C

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brokebecauseconcerts-blog · 8 years ago

Photo

Father

John

Misty

Where oh where do I begin? I try not to pick favorites, in anything I do. I think picking favorites sets people up for failure. I figure there will be one day another candidate outshines the favorite, resulting in disappointment. But fuck it, Father John Misty is my favorite. And I trust it because there is virtually nothing he can do wrong that would take that title away- and he does a lot of textbook things “wrong”.

Josh Tillman stole my heart when I heard “I’m Writing a Novel” on WFUV Radio when I was in college (around 2012) Not knowing much about him personally, I started listening to “Fear Fun” and fell in love with his music. “Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings” and “Everyman Needs a Companion” landed every mixed CD (yep, still made CDS in 2012) and I decided to dig a little deeper and actually check the dude out. WOAH he’s hot! WAIT he was in Fleet Foxes? OMG he has the exact the type of humor that I adore, equal parts witty, snarky and dark. Fuck, he has a girlfriend. I’m absolutely done, they’re getting married. I can’t remember a time I fell so hard for an artist post-emo/punk/highschool days (Think Gerard Way and Travis Barker).

However, I’m really fucking glad he was and is in such a beautiful relationship because thats how his sophomore album came to be. i wasn't sure If I’d ever love an album as much as “Fear Fun” but lo & behold: “I Love You, Honeybear” took & continues to take the damn cake. Has there ever been an album (albeit, Rumours) that has described love so honestly? It talks about the honeymoon phase in depth, the ga-ga feelings and pedestals that we put our partners on in the beginning. The way new love helps us start to feel creative again, or creative in a new, fresh way. And then after time, how love can start to get a little paranoid and jealous. It’s messy, it’s raw and it sort of made me hate his beloved Emma (who eats bread & butter like like a queen would have ostrich and cobra wine. Listen if you don't get the reference but also stop talking to me: https://open.spotify.com/track/2eg2gvPXuwZ9FyrPaLgrXi) Could you I-M-A-G-I-N-E having someone write you a love song such as that? Fun fact, I heard this song for the first time freshly after ending a 4 year relationship. Bad timing? Nah, it actually was so beautiful and uplifting that the song gave me hope and made me feel secure that I haven't found the right person yet and that I didn't just lose that person (burn). It gave me hope that I’d eventually meet someone that I could picture having a satanic christmas eve with or dance around to a mariachi band with. Spoiler Alert: FJM did help me find love. I will get to that at the end. Any who, this album ruled and continue to rules my world. The title track “I Love You, Honeybear” is about taking on the shitastic world we live in with someone you love. “Bored in the USA” is about the absurdities within our pop culture and the bullshit promise of the American Dream gone wrong. The album as a whole is romantic and existentialist and I am 100%AboutThat.com

And then we were gifted “Pure Comedy”. I write that with a sigh. Not because I am disappointed but because It’s heavy. It highlights our current political and social climate and it does so in a very dark, darker than usual way. When he realeased the video for title track, “Pure Comedy” a few short months after the election I wept at my desk. The song itself is so eerie and fantastical with the baritone sax wailing the fuck off as Donald Trump’s face slyly pops up. I Think FJM is making the point that everything happening right now is so fucking ugly and wrong that it’s absurdly funny. Not haha-funny, just...funny. As in “something smells funny”, as in our country. He attacks religion, pop-stars (gotcha, Taylor Swift), environmental issues, the delusional lifestyle of LA inhabitants, you name it. But, in true Josh Tillman fashion, and we know theres a big beating heart in there, he ends the album in a hopeful way with “In Twenty Years or So”. In the song, Tillman addresses the cosmic indifference of the universe and the existential fear that comes with it. In the first two verses he sets up the great comedy: That despite all our grand gesturing and philosophizing (with the character of Father John Misty as the embodiment of this behavior), we ultimately don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Then in the second verse he starts to assign a little more meaning to the chaos.

That in twenty years More or less This human experiment will reach its violent end But I look at you As our second drinks arrive The piano player's playing "This Must Be the Place" And it's a miracle to be alive

I *think* he’s saying, “Look, the world is fucked, we’re only getting worse, it’s too much to handle, but thank god I have you to navigate it with. And we have music, and it really all is amazing, isn't it”. I’m sorry it sounds like a basic Audrey Hepburn wannabe annotation of his beautifully written song, but It comforts me. It’s like a really elongated and philosophic way of saying “All you Need is Love”, but The Beatles beat him to it.

All in all, “Pure Comedy” takes us through a (trippy) walk of life thats starts out as that scene in Willy Wonka where they’re all taking a boat ride through the tunnel of hellish images, to a calm setting where all you want to do is hug the people you love and be left with the simple yet complex thought, “it’s all going to be okay”. Bravo FJM for creating such a mature and powerful album. I think melodically it is not for everyone, as it is much slower that what he’s done. But give it a good listen through and really listen to what he’s saying. If 2017 had to sound like anything (besides screams and tears) it would sound like “Pure Comedy”.

Kk thanks for reading.

OH WAIT, yeah I forgot this is a concert blog. Well! I saw him last night at the Kings Theatre in Flatbush, Brooklyn. A tremendously stunning place to see live music, in my opinion. He played most of “Pure Comedy” straight through, without any speeches or commentary. Nerd moment- I fuuucking love when artists do this with newly released albums. it shows they care about it, it shows they're not just trying to appease the crowd with favorites. It’s saying here is the art i just created and worked on for mad amount of time. Sit the fuck down and experience it. He did every song except the 13 minute “Leaving LA” (good call IMO) and the last two songs, yanno, the uplifiting ones. Then halfway through he broke out the oldies, a couple from “Fear Fun” and a bunch from “I Love You, Honeybear”. The whole theater was standing and dancing and watching HIM dance and holy shit I love when tall lanky men swivel their hips. Probably one of the best parts about seeing Father John Misty live is watching him break it down. He was even slow dancing with himself at one point during “Strange Encounter” and i was both turned on and hysterically laughing. One interesting point to make was that he was oddly quiet. He’s known for long on-stage rants, whether they're actually anger driven or just a comedy bit- they usually always show up on Pitchfork the next day. This was my third time seeing him and i’ve had the pleasure of hearing some of those rants and raves. This time he was quiet, appreciative and...mature? IDK I really liked it. I think it mimicked the seriousness of his newest album and demanded that you pay attention to the music and what it’s trying to say. I noticed a bunch of Brooklyn bros at the end of the show making comments like “he wasn't that funny!” “I thought he was going to talk more” and thats fine, but maybe consider why that is. After he came back on for his encore he played the last two songs on “Pure Comedy” and ended on a very special and postive note with a v sweet sun and moon setting in the background. Father John Misty is giving us hope.

Also I felt this deserved it’s own paragraph but his band absolutely blew me away. I would 100% go see them live without vocals. He had an entire orchestra + five piece band. Another additive to the experience compared to past Father John Misty concerts, as he’s always played with just a 5 piece band. It made the album come alive in the most spectacular way.

All in all, he is still my favorite. I hope to see much more from him in the future because I think he has a really really good thing going on on all levels. So back on the topic on Father John Misty and hoping to find love. JOSH, BABE. if you ever see this, I owe you some thanks. If it weren't for you and if it weren't for Tinder syncing my Facebook page likes, I never would have matched with my current partner whom we both share a massive and almost grotesque love for you & we wouldn't have anything to talk about on our first date, or a an album to makeout to for the first time. so really, thanks. At the risk of sounding like a cheese dick, It’s amazing to me that your song, the one that gave me hope and an idea of an ideal partner, led me to so much happiness. Awwwww.

Steam “Pure Comedy” & go through an existential crisis, today! https://open.spotify.com/album/3CoFoDt6zt5EKxmTpOX32b

#father john misty #pure comedy

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hellagaypokemon · 8 years ago

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there’s something I really need to get off my chest, regarding someone I once considered my fave youtuber and the way he seems to view gay people..

I’ve been watching Mark’s videos for about 3 years now. I first found his videos through finding Yomimash while looking for good Slender Man LPs to watch, and found Mark when they played that gory cat multiplayer game together. I decided to watch his videos more regularly after watching his unfair Mario and cat Mario videos which were absolutely hysterical, and have been watching his content regularly ever since.

but there’s a pattern I’ve noticed that’s really made me uncomfortable lately.

I’m really starting to think that Mark is homophobic.

now, not the kind that’s obvious, where someone actually has hate in their heart (think: mike pence, the westburrow baptist church, ext) but the kind that doesn’t bother to check all the tiny biases that one accumulates in a bigoted society (the kind of thing that causes people to think there’s nothing wrong with things like this, or not seeing what’s wrong with things like constantly calling video game enemies b*tches/sons of b*tches/wh*res/ext and talking about how a player or enemy that got swiftly/dramatically killed “got raped”) because both are harmful, but I’d argue the smaller things even more-so, as no one takes the WBC seriously, but the microaggressions are so ingrained in our society, no one but those harmed actually notice, and when we attempt to call them out, we’re told we’re just being overly sensitive and to lighten up/not take things so seriously, or even that we have a victim complex.

in all the years I’ve watched him, the only time he refers to us, it’s as a joke. he and his friends love joking about “suckin’ dick” and each other’s and just general constant dick jokes (makes you wonder why he was so shocked he got a 7 for his mental maturity test) and specifically joking about gay people, which in and of itself is homophobic when you realize that type of humor is what’s called a “punch down” which in and of itself is harmful, but on top of that, specifically straight people thinking of gay people/same-sex affection as a punchline is in itself a microaggression (and if you want sources, look at the latest Golden Globes, or one of many of Stephen Colbert’s skits, just to start)

but, dick jokes in and of themselves aren’t that bad. I mean, I don’t find them funny, and the amount with which he uses them seems more like a crutch than anything, but w/e. I don’t have to find everything he says funny, but it just gets worse from there.

like for instance that pirate prop hunt video where Bob ignorantly comments about how “the whole gay thing is not real cool with pirates”, because pirates are cool and the only way he could view a pirate being gay was if he was like Smee from Peter Pan, even though most pirates were gay, to the point that the word “mate”/”matey” (the word that first comes to mind when one thinks of pirates) actually comes from a French word that more or less translated to ‘significant other’. (also, to top all that off, he’s just also not comfortable being alone with a gay man when there’s only men around, and the idea of being checked out by another man, aka treated by a gay man how straight men treat women, which he made very clear makes him very uncomfortable)

which, in and of itself is absolutely awful, and I really wish more people would have called him out on how absolutely overwhelmingly homophobic that is, but as it stands, even Mark thought it was ok enough to post.

because while Mark did say that he’s “ok” with gay people/pirates, he never really truly called Bob out or pointed out how hurtful such comments are. instead he turned it into yet another dick joke, and decided he’d put a generic “trigger warning” in the front of the video (without actually telling us what the trigger was for, making it completely useless, only succeeding on making me feel on edge the entire video because I had no idea what to expect)

he never called out Bob on his comments outside of personal minor disagreement, which clearly did not phase him since he kept going. I understand wanting to keep things lighthearted for the video, which could explain the very minor disagreeing and turning it into a joke, but there was no reason he couldn’t cut that bit out (as the prop hunt videos are always full of cuts so we the viewer only see the parts they deem funny enough to show us) and just leave it out of the video entirely, which tells me he found the homophobia from Bob and the subsequent dick jokes and everything else around it entertaining enough to leave in, even though he KNEW it would be upsetting enough to need a warning.

this hurt, but I chucked it up to not wanting to ruin the fun mood they had going, since they seemed to be playing for a few hours, and simply decided to not watch any more videos including Bob and hope that Mark talked to him after the fact. it still sat in the back of my mind though, and I was never able to fully forgive ether of them.

I’ve also yet to hear of any of his charity live streams focusing on LGBT charities ether general or focusing on a specific subset, nor has he really made any effort to actually acknowledge us (unless to joke about us).

when same-sex marriage was legalized I looked damn near daily on all the social media accounts of his that I was aware of, but I never managed to find anything. I’ve since been told he simply posted on facebook an image of the rainbow flag and “today’s a good day”, but...I still feel like my original feelings stand, as I never found it myself (and have yet to actually see it, so for all I know that post could have been completely made up in an attempt to shut me down) and for something so important, for someone who will go on a tearful 30 minute monologue about the importance of love and being kind to each other and so-on at the drop of a hat, it really feels strange that when #lovewon, after all these years of fighting and hate and death, all he had to say was “today is a good day”.

and then when Orlando happened, I was sure he’d say something. I mean, with that much loss of life and so much hate surrounding it, I thought surely he’d have something to say. I mean, he talks about death and suicide and great losses of life and how important it is that we all stick together and love and protect one another all the time. there’s no way he could just gloss over this one, right?

and yet, he still managed to. he did make a statement, but it was what, almost a week later? and just a generic “love each other” sort of post that never actually referenced anything. I’m not even sure he mentioned the shooting specifically, just saying “with everything going on right now” or something and we all knew what he meant, because there really wasn’t anything else he could be talking about. but he never once mentioned anything specifically. it was a racial and homophobic hate crime, the worst mass shooting of our time, and all he could offer to his fans was a general “be good to each other”, which he says all the time, only this time much shorter than normal.

just a little two paragraph post, a general statement, for the worst mass killing of modern time on US soil.

and if I recall, within a week of it he had another charity livestream, and it wasn’t for Orlando. nor was the next one, or the next one. he “doesn’t feel it’s his place” to say anything, and apparently he doesn’t feel it’s “his place” to send help for people literally dying ether. well, unless they’re children dying of cancer, or people trying to kill themselves. they’re the only people dying that he seems worthy enough and “his place” to send money to and bring awareness about.

but the thing that hurt me the most personally, was his comment just a few days ago in his blooper video, not two minuets in (all of which had been literally nothing but dick jokes btw) he tells two of his buddies to act like they’d just realized they’re lesbians, and they immediately recreated a porn scene, and then they all laughed at just how funny that was.

I couldn’t finish the video.

I was too hurt. never before had his homophobia been so obvious, and directed at my community specifically. nothing had hurt me quite like this does.

I’m still floored to be completely honest. I had been giving him the benefit of the doubt for so long, thinking he just really likes making dick jokes and he’s secure enough in his sexuality to be able to make jokes like that (which is a privilege in and of itself btw) but I thought surely, surely someone who’s so passionate about doing the right thing and being good to people and who actively talks about being ok with us and not uncomfortable around us at all (unlike Bob) and who actively jokes about the fanfiction and art he knows about that depict him and his male friends as lovers, surely he himself would never partake in dehumanizing anyone, surely he couldn’t be homophobic.

but when you look at him and how he treats us compared to say, HarshyCritical, you can see the difference. (especially since after making this post it was brought to my attention that just a minute into the latest video he made with Bob, the one posted the same day I write this, they laugh at the use of a violently homophobic slur)

especially since the person whom John seems closest to and colabs the most with is himself a gay man. they even share a channel together where all they post is multiplayer colabs.

I don’t know if John’s done any LGBT-centric charity streams, but the fact that his good or possibly even best friend is a gay man and how he treats the narrative and characters in a game where the story is all about dealing with homophobia and being yourself says a lot more in his favor that anything Mark has done. (which is also very ironic since John lives in the very homophobic state of Texas and Mark now lives in the very liberal state of California)

I honestly can’t find a single thing he’s said about us specifically that wasn’t a joke, and he’s made it painfully clear that in the end that’s all he sees us as.

inherently sexual, a porn category, something to laugh at, something other.

and the thing that hurts the most, is no one cares. he just got 16 million subscribers. most of his fans are homophobic fangirls who treat homosexuality as a fetish for them to enjoy, and everyone else is too much of a stan to think critically of his actions. no one will want to call him out. he’s too much of a “good person”, since everyone’s expectations of men and male gamers is so low, with the bar being fuckin buried in the dirt, that someone like Mark who cares about sick kids and depression and preventing suicide and all of his talking about caring about each and every one of us as individuals, he looks like a damn angel just by walking over that bar, so anyone wanting to call him out will be blown off as someone who just wants to bring him down because of jealousy or some bullshit like that.

so at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. he could be as openly homophobic as he wants, and every non-straight fan could up and drop him on the spot, and I doubt it would really affect him much.

and I think that’s what hurts more than anything he’s actually said or done.

#markiplier #harshlycritical #homophobia #lesbophobia #not pokemon #personal #posting it to this sideblog cause it's at least about gaming #and when the shit hits the fan I don't really want that all over my dashboard

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thesnhuup · 6 years ago

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Pop Picks – January 3, 2019

January 3, 2019

What I’m listening to:

My listening choices usually refer to music, but this time I’m going with Malcolm Gladwell’s Revisionist History podcast on genius and the song Hallelujah. It tells the story of Leonard Cohen’s much-covered song Hallelujah and uses it as a lens on kinds of genius and creativity. Along the way, he brings in Picasso and Cézanne, Elvis Costello, and more. Gladwell is a good storyteller and if you love pop music, as I do, and Hallelujah, as I do (and you should), you’ll enjoy this podcast. We tend to celebrate the genius who seems inspired in the moment, creating new work like lightning strikes, but this podcast has me appreciating incremental creativity in a new way. It’s compelling and fun at the same time.

What I’m reading:

Just read Clay Christensen’s new book, The Prosperity Paradox: How Innovation Can Lift Nations Out of Poverty. This was an advance copy, so soon available. Clay is an old friend and a huge influence on how we have grown SNHU and our approach to innovation. This book is so compelling, because we know attempts at development have so often been a failure and it is often puzzling to understand why some countries with desperate poverty and huge challenges somehow come to thrive (think S. Korea, Singapore, 19th C. America), while others languish. Clay offers a fresh way of thinking about development through the lens of his research on innovation and it is compelling. I bet this book gets a lot of attention, as most of his work does. I also suspect that many in the development community will hate it, as it calls into question the approach and enormous investments we have made in an attempt to lift countries out of poverty. A provocative read and, as always, Clay is a good storyteller.

What I’m watching:

Just watched Leave No Trace and should have guessed that it was directed by Debra Granik. She did Winter’s Bone, the extraordinary movie that launched Jennifer Lawrence’s career. Similarly, this movie features an amazing young actor, Thomasin McKenzie, and visits lives lived on the margins. In this case, a veteran suffering PTSD, and his 13-year-old daughter. The movie is patient, is visually lush, and justly earned 100% on Rotten Tomatoes (I have a rule to never watch anything under 82%). Everything in this film is under control and beautifully understated (aside from the visuals) – confident acting, confident directing, and so humane. I love the lack of flashbacks, the lack of sensationalism – the movie trusts the viewer, rare in this age of bombast. A lovely film.

Archive

December 4, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Spending a week in New Zealand, we had endless laughs listening to the Kiwi band, Flight of the Conchords. Lots of comedic bands are funny, but the music is only okay or worse. These guys are funny – hysterical really – and the music is great. They have an uncanny ability to parody almost any style. In both New Zealand and Australia, we found a wry sense of humor that was just delightful and no better captured than with this duo. You don’t have to be in New Zealand to enjoy them.

What I’m reading:

I don’t often reread. For two reasons: A) I have so many books on my “still to be read” pile that it seems daunting to also reread books I loved before, and B) it’s because I loved them once that I’m a little afraid to read them again. That said, I was recently asked to list my favorite book of all time and I answered Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. But I don’t really know if that’s still true (and it’s an impossible question anyway – favorite book? On what day? In what mood?), so I’m rereading it and it feels like being with an old friend. It has one of my very favorite scenes ever: the card game between Levin and Kitty that leads to the proposal and his joyous walking the streets all night.

What I’m watching:

Blindspotting is billed as a buddy-comedy. Wow does that undersell it and the drama is often gripping. I loved Daveed Diggs in Hamilton, didn’t like his character in Black-ish, and think he is transcendent in this film he co-wrote with Rafael Casal, his co-star. The film is a love song to Oakland in many ways, but also a gut-wrenching indictment of police brutality, systemic racism and bias, and gentrification. The film has the freshness and raw visceral impact of Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing. A great soundtrack, genre mixing, and energy make it one of my favorite movies of 2018.

October 15, 2018

What I’m listening to:

We had the opportunity to see our favorite band, The National, live in Dallas two weeks ago. Just after watching Mistaken for Strangers, the documentary sort of about the band. So we’ve spent a lot of time going back into their earlier work, listening to songs we don’t know well, and reaffirming that their musicality, smarts, and sound are both original and astoundingly good. They did not disappoint in concert and it is a good thing their tour ended, as we might just spend all of our time and money following them around. Matt Berninger is a genius and his lead vocals kill me (and because they are in my range, I can actually sing along!). Their arrangements are profoundly good and go right to whatever brain/heart wiring that pulls one in and doesn’t let them go.

What I’m reading:

Who is Richard Powers and why have I only discovered him now, with his 12th book? Overstory is profoundly good, a book that is essential and powerful and makes me look at my everyday world in new ways. In short, a dizzying example of how powerful can be narrative in the hands of a master storyteller. I hesitate to say it’s the best environmental novel I’ve ever read (it is), because that would put this book in a category. It is surely about the natural world, but it is as much about we humans. It’s monumental and elegiac and wondrous at all once. Cancel your day’s schedule and read it now. Then plant a tree. A lot of them.

What I’m watching:

Bo Burnham wrote and directed Eighth Grade and Elsie Fisher is nothing less than amazing as its star (what’s with these new child actors; see Florida Project). It’s funny and painful and touching. It’s also the single best film treatment that I have seen of what it means to grow up in a social media shaped world. It’s a reminder that growing up is hard. Maybe harder now in a world of relentless, layered digital pressure to curate perfect lives that are far removed from the natural messy worlds and selves we actually inhabit. It’s a well-deserved 98% on Rotten Tomatoes and I wonder who dinged it for the missing 2%.

September 7, 2018

What I’m listening to:

With a cover pointing back to the Beastie Boys’ 1986 Licensed to Ill, Eminem’s quietly released Kamikaze is not my usual taste, but I’ve always admired him for his “all out there” willingness to be personal, to call people out, and his sheer genius with language. I thought Daveed Diggs could rap fast, but Eminem is supersonic at moments, and still finds room for melody. Love that he includes Joyner Lucas, whose “I’m Not Racist” gets added to the growing list of simply amazing music videos commenting on race in America. There are endless reasons why I am the least likely Eminem fan, but when no one is around to make fun of me, I’ll put it on again.

What I’m reading:

Lesley Blume’s Everyone Behaves Badly, which is the story behind Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises and his time in 1920s Paris (oh, what a time – see Midnight in Paris if you haven’t already). Of course, Blume disabuses my romantic ideas of that time and place and everyone is sort of (or profoundly so) a jerk, especially…no spoiler here…Hemingway. That said, it is a compelling read and coming off the Henry James inspired prose of Mrs. Osmond, it made me appreciate more how groundbreaking was Hemingway’s modern prose style. Like his contemporary Picasso, he reinvented the art and it can be easy to forget, these decades later, how profound was the change and its impact. And it has bullfights.

What I’m watching:

Chloé Zhao’s The Rider is just exceptional. It’s filmed on the Pine Ridge Reservation, which provides a stunning landscape, and it feels like a classic western reinvented for our times. The main characters are played by the real-life people who inspired this narrative (but feels like a documentary) film. Brady Jandreau, playing himself really, owns the screen. It’s about manhood, honor codes, loss, and resilience – rendered in sensitive, nuanced, and heartfelt ways. It feels like it could be about large swaths of America today. Really powerful.

August 16, 2018

What I’m listening to:

In my Spotify Daily Mix was Percy Sledge’s When A Man Loves A Woman, one of the world’s greatest love songs. Go online and read the story of how the song was discovered and recorded. There are competing accounts, but Sledge said he improvised it after a bad breakup. It has that kind of aching spontaneity. It is another hit from Muscle Shoals, Alabama, one of the GREAT music hotbeds, along with Detroit, Nashville, and Memphis. Our February Board meeting is in Alabama and I may finally have to do the pilgrimage road trip to Muscle Shoals and then Memphis, dropping in for Sunday services at the church where Rev. Al Green still preaches and sings. If the music is all like this, I will be saved.

What I’m reading:

John Banville’s Mrs. Osmond, his homage to literary idol Henry James and an imagined sequel to James’ 1881 masterpiece Portrait of a Lady. Go online and read the first paragraph of Chapter 25. He is…profoundly good. Makes me want to never write again, since anything I attempt will feel like some other, lowly activity in comparison to his mastery of language, image, syntax. This is slow reading, every sentence to be savored.

What I’m watching:

I’ve always respected Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, but we just watched the documentary RGB. It is over-the-top great and she is now one of my heroes. A superwoman in many ways and the documentary is really well done. There are lots of scenes of her speaking to crowds and the way young women, especially law students, look at her is touching. And you can’t help but fall in love with her now late husband Marty. See this movie and be reminded of how important is the Law.

July 23, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Spotify’s Summer Acoustic playlist has been on repeat quite a lot. What a fun way to listen to artists new to me, including The Paper Kites, Hollow Coves, and Fleet Foxes, as well as old favorites like Leon Bridges and Jose Gonzalez. Pretty chill when dialing back to a summer pace, dining on the screen porch or reading a book.

What I’m reading:

Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy. Founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, Stevenson tells of the racial injustice (and the war on the poor our judicial system perpetuates as well) that he discovered as a young graduate from Harvard Law School and his fight to address it. It is in turn heartbreaking, enraging, and inspiring. It is also about mercy and empathy and justice that reads like a novel. Brilliant.

What I’m watching:

Fauda. We watched season one of this Israeli thriller. It was much discussed in Israel because while it focuses on an ex-special agent who comes out of retirement to track down a Palestinian terrorist, it was willing to reveal the complexity, richness, and emotions of Palestinian lives. And the occasional brutality of the Israelis. Pretty controversial stuff in Israel. Lior Raz plays Doron, the main character, and is compelling and tough and often hard to like. He’s a mess. As is the world in which he has to operate. We really liked it, and also felt guilty because while it may have been brave in its treatment of Palestinians within the Israeli context, it falls back into some tired tropes and ultimately falls short on this front.

June 11, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Like everyone else, I’m listening to Pusha T drop the mic on Drake. Okay, not really, but do I get some points for even knowing that? We all walk around with songs that immediately bring us back to a time or a place. Songs are time machines. We are coming up on Father’s Day. My own dad passed away on Father’s Day back in 1994 and I remembering dutifully getting through the wake and funeral and being strong throughout. Then, sitting alone in our kitchen, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence came on and I lost it. When you lose a parent for the first time (most of us have two after all) we lose our innocence and in that passage, we suddenly feel adult in a new way (no matter how old we are), a longing for our own childhood, and a need to forgive and be forgiven. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand. As Wordsworth reminds us in In Memoriam, there are seasons to our grief and, all these years later, this song no longer hits me in the gut, but does transport me back with loving memories of my father. I’ll play it Father’s Day.

What I’m reading:

The Fifth Season, by N. K. Jemisin. I am not a reader of fantasy or sci-fi, though I understand they can be powerful vehicles for addressing the very real challenges of the world in which we actually live. I’m not sure I know of a more vivid and gripping illustration of that fact than N. K. Jemisin’s Hugo Award winning novel The Fifth Season, first in her Broken Earth trilogy. It is astounding. It is the fantasy parallel to The Underground Railroad, my favorite recent read, a depiction of subjugation, power, casual violence, and a broken world in which our hero(s) struggle, suffer mightily, and still, somehow, give us hope. It is a tour de force book. How can someone be this good a writer? The first 30 pages pained me (always with this genre, one must learn a new, constructed world, and all of its operating physics and systems of order), and then I could not put it down. I panicked as I neared the end, not wanting to finish the book, and quickly ordered the Obelisk Gate, the second novel in the trilogy, and I can tell you now that I’ll be spending some goodly portion of my weekend in Jemisin’s other world.

What I’m watching:

The NBA Finals and perhaps the best basketball player of this generation. I’ve come to deeply respect LeBron James as a person, a force for social good, and now as an extraordinary player at the peak of his powers. His superhuman play during the NBA playoffs now ranks with the all-time greats, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, MJ, Kobe, and the demi-god that was Bill Russell. That his Cavs lost in a 4-game sweep is no surprise. It was a mediocre team being carried on the wide shoulders of James (and matched against one of the greatest teams ever, the Warriors, and the Harry Potter of basketball, Steph Curry) and, in some strange way, his greatness is amplified by the contrast with the rest of his team. It was a great run.

May 24, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I’ve always liked Alicia Keys and admired her social activism, but I am hooked on her last album Here. This feels like an album finally commensurate with her anger, activism, hope, and grit. More R&B and Hip Hop than is typical for her, I think this album moves into an echelon inhabited by a Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On or Beyonce’s Formation. Social activism and outrage rarely make great novels, but they often fuel great popular music. Here is a terrific example.

What I’m reading:

Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad may be close to a flawless novel. Winner of the 2017 Pulitzer, it chronicles the lives of two runaway slaves, Cora and Caeser, as they try to escape the hell of plantation life in Georgia. It is an often searing novel and Cora is one of the great heroes of American literature. I would make this mandatory reading in every high school in America, especially in light of the absurd revisionist narratives of “happy and well cared for” slaves. This is a genuinely great novel, one of the best I’ve read, the magical realism and conflating of time periods lifts it to another realm of social commentary, relevance, and a blazing indictment of America’s Original Sin, for which we remain unabsolved.

What I’m watching:

I thought I knew about The Pentagon Papers, but The Post, a real-life political thriller from Steven Spielberg taught me a lot, features some of our greatest actors, and is so timely given the assault on our democratic institutions and with a presidency out of control. It is a reminder that a free and fearless press is a powerful part of our democracy, always among the first targets of despots everywhere. The story revolves around the legendary Post owner and D.C. doyenne, Katharine Graham. I had the opportunity to see her son, Don Graham, right after he saw the film, and he raved about Meryl Streep’s portrayal of his mother. Liked it a lot more than I expected.

April 27, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I mentioned John Prine in a recent post and then on the heels of that mention, he has released a new album, The Tree of Forgiveness, his first new album in ten years. Prine is beloved by other singer songwriters and often praised by the inscrutable God that is Bob Dylan. Indeed, Prine was frequently said to be the “next Bob Dylan” in the early part of his career, though he instead carved out his own respectable career and voice, if never with the dizzying success of Dylan. The new album reflects a man in his 70s, a cancer survivor, who reflects on life and its end, but with the good humor and empathy that are hallmarks of Prine’s music. “When I Get To Heaven” is a rollicking, fun vision of what comes next and a pure delight. A charming, warm, and often terrific album.

What I’m reading:

I recently read Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, on many people’s Top Ten lists for last year and for good reason. It is sprawling, multi-generational, and based in the world of Japanese occupied Korea and then in the Korean immigrant’s world of Oaska, so our key characters become “tweeners,” accepted in neither world. It’s often unspeakably sad, and yet there is resiliency and love. There is also intimacy, despite the time and geographic span of the novel. It’s breathtakingly good and like all good novels, transporting.

What I’m watching:

I adore Guillermo del Toro’s 2006 film, Pan’s Labyrinth, and while I’m not sure his Shape of Water is better, it is a worthy follow up to the earlier masterpiece (and more of a commercial success). Lots of critics dislike the film, but I’m okay with a simple retelling of a Beauty and the Beast love story, as predictable as it might be. The acting is terrific, it is visually stunning, and there are layers of pain as well as social and political commentary (the setting is the US during the Cold War) and, no real spoiler here, the real monsters are humans, the military officer who sees over the captured aquatic creature. It is hauntingly beautiful and its depiction of hatred to those who are different or “other” is painfully resonant with the time in which we live. Put this on your “must see” list.

March 18, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Sitting on a plane for hours (and many more to go; geez, Australia is far away) is a great opportunity to listen to new music and to revisit old favorites. This time, it is Lucy Dacus and her album Historians, the new sophomore release from a 22-year old indie artist that writes with relatable, real-life lyrics. Just on a second listen and while she insists this isn’t a break up record (as we know, 50% of all great songs are break up songs), it is full of loss and pain. Worth the listen so far. For the way back machine, it’s John Prine and In Spite of Ourselves (that title track is one of the great love songs of all time), a collection of duets with some of his “favorite girl singers” as he once described them. I have a crush on Iris Dement (for a really righteously angry song try her Wasteland of the Free), but there is also EmmyLou Harris, the incomparable Dolores Keane, and Lucinda Williams. Very different albums, both wonderful.

What I’m reading:

Jane Mayer’s New Yorker piece on Christopher Steele presents little that is new, but she pulls it together in a terrific and coherent whole that is illuminating and troubling at the same time. Not only for what is happening, but for the complicity of the far right in trying to discredit that which should be setting off alarm bells everywhere. Bob Mueller may be the most important defender of the democracy at this time. A must read.

What I’m watching:

Homeland is killing it this season and is prescient, hauntingly so. Russian election interference, a Bannon-style hate radio demagogue, alienated and gun toting militia types, and a president out of control. It’s fabulous, even if it feels awfully close to the evening news.

March 8, 2018

What I’m listening to:

We have a family challenge to compile our Top 100 songs. It is painful. Only 100? No more than three songs by one artist? Wait, why is M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” on my list? Should it just be The Clash from whom she samples? Can I admit to guilty pleasure songs? Hey, it’s my list and I can put anything I want on it. So I’m listening to the list while I work and the song playing right now is Tom Petty’s “The Wild One, Forever,” a B-side single that was never a hit and that remains my favorite Petty song. Also, “Evangeline” by Los Lobos. It evokes a night many years ago, with friends at Pearl Street in Northampton, MA, when everyone danced well past 1AM in a hot, sweaty, packed club and the band was a revelation. Maybe the best music night of our lives and a reminder that one’s 100 Favorite Songs list is as much about what you were doing and where you were in your life when those songs were playing as it is about the music. It’s not a list. It’s a soundtrack for this journey.

What I’m reading:

Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy was in the NY Times top ten books of 2017 list and it is easy to see why. Lockwood brings remarkable and often surprising imagery, metaphor, and language to her prose memoir and it actually threw me off at first. It then all became clear when someone told me she is a poet. The book is laugh aloud funny, which masks (or makes safer anyway) some pretty dark territory. Anyone who grew up Catholic, whether lapsed or not, will resonate with her story. She can’t resist a bawdy anecdote and her family provides some of the most memorable characters possible, especially her father, her sister, and her mother, who I came to adore. Best thing I’ve read in ages.

What I’m watching:

The Florida Project, a profoundly good movie on so many levels. Start with the central character, six-year old (at the time of the filming) Brooklynn Prince, who owns – I mean really owns – the screen. This is pure acting genius and at that age? Astounding. Almost as astounding is Bria Vinaite, who plays her mother. She was discovered on Instagram and had never acted before this role, which she did with just three weeks of acting lessons. She is utterly convincing and the tension between the child’s absolute wonder and joy in the world with her mother’s struggle to provide, to be a mother, is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. Willem Dafoe rightly received an Oscar nomination for his supporting role. This is a terrific movie.

February 12, 2018

What I’m listening to:

So, I have a lot of friends of age (I know you’re thinking 40s, but I just turned 60) who are frozen in whatever era of music they enjoyed in college or maybe even in their thirties. There are lots of times when I reach back into the catalog, since music is one of those really powerful and transporting senses that can take you through time (smell is the other one, though often underappreciated for that power). Hell, I just bought a turntable and now spending time in vintage vinyl shops. But I’m trying to take a lesson from Pat, who revels in new music and can as easily talk about North African rap music and the latest National album as Meet the Beatles, her first ever album. So, I’ve been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy winning Damn. While it may not be the first thing I’ll reach for on a winter night in Maine, by the fire, I was taken with it. It’s layered, political, and weirdly sensitive and misogynist at the same time, and it feels fresh and authentic and smart at the same time, with music that often pulled me from what I was doing. In short, everything music should do. I’m not a bit cooler for listening to Damn, but when I followed it with Steely Dan, I felt like I was listening to Lawrence Welk. A good sign, I think.

What I’m reading:

I am reading Walter Isaacson’s new biography of Leonardo da Vinci. I’m not usually a reader of biographies, but I’ve always been taken with Leonardo. Isaacson does not disappoint (does he ever?), and his subject is at once more human and accessible and more awe-inspiring in Isaacson’s capable hands. Gay, left-handed, vegetarian, incapable of finishing things, a wonderful conversationalist, kind, and perhaps the most relentlessly curious human being who has ever lived. Like his biographies of Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein, Isaacson’s project here is to show that genius lives at the intersection of science and art, of rationality and creativity. Highly recommend it.

What I’m watching:

We watched the This Is Us post-Super Bowl episode, the one where Jack finally buys the farm. I really want to hate this show. It is melodramatic and manipulative, with characters that mostly never change or grow, and it hooks me every damn time we watch it. The episode last Sunday was a tear jerker, a double whammy intended to render into a blubbering, tissue-crumbling pathetic mess anyone who has lost a parent or who is a parent. Sterling K. Brown, Ron Cephas Jones, the surprising Mandy Moore, and Milo Ventimiglia are hard not to love and last season’s episode that had only Brown and Cephas going to Memphis was the show at its best (they are by far the two best actors). Last week was the show at its best worst. In other words, I want to hate it, but I love it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t binge watch it. You’ll need therapy and insulin.

January 15, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Drive-By Truckers. Chris Stapleton has me on an unusual (for me) country theme and I discovered these guys to my great delight. They’ve been around, with some 11 albums, but the newest one is fascinating. It’s a deep dive into Southern alienation and the white working-class world often associated with our current president. I admire the willingness to lay bare, in kick ass rock songs, the complexities and pain at work among people we too quickly place into overly simple categories. These guys are brave, bold, and thoughtful as hell, while producing songs I didn’t expect to like, but that I keep playing. And they are coming to NH.

What I’m reading:

A textual analog to Drive-By Truckers by Chris Stapleton in many ways is Tony Horowitz’s 1998 Pulitzer Prize winning Confederates in the Attic. Ostensibly about the Civil War and the South’s ongoing attachment to it, it is prescient and speaks eloquently to the times in which we live (where every southern state but Virginia voted for President Trump). Often hilarious, it too surfaces complexities and nuance that escape a more recent, and widely acclaimed, book like Hillbilly Elegy. As a Civil War fan, it was also astonishing in many instances, especially when it blows apart long-held “truths” about the war, such as the degree to which Sherman burned down the south (he did not). Like D-B Truckers, Horowitz loves the South and the people he encounters, even as he grapples with its myths of victimhood and exceptionalism (and racism, which may be no more than the racism in the north, but of a different kind). Everyone should read this book and I’m embarrassed I’m so late to it.

What I’m watching:

David Letterman has a new Netflix show called “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” and we watched the first episode, in which Letterman interviewed Barack Obama. It was extraordinary (if you don’t have Netflix, get it just to watch this show); not only because we were reminded of Obama’s smarts, grace, and humanity (and humor), but because we saw a side of Letterman we didn’t know existed. His personal reflections on Selma were raw and powerful, almost painful. He will do five more episodes with “extraordinary individuals” and if they are anything like the first, this might be the very best work of his career and one of the best things on television.

December 22, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished Sunjeev Sahota’s Year of the Runaways, a painful inside look at the plight of illegal Indian immigrant workers in Britain. It was shortlisted for 2015 Man Booker Prize and its transporting, often to a dark and painful universe, and it is impossible not to think about the American version of this story and the terrible way we treat the undocumented in our own country, especially now.

What I’m watching:

Season II of The Crown is even better than Season I. Elizabeth’s character is becoming more three-dimensional, the modern world is catching up with tradition-bound Britain, and Cold War politics offer more context and tension than we saw in Season I. Claire Foy, in her last season, is just terrific – one arched eye brow can send a message.

What I’m listening to:

A lot of Christmas music, but needing a break from the schmaltz, I’ve discovered Over the Rhine and their Christmas album, Snow Angels. God, these guys are good.

November 14, 2017

What I’m watching:

Guiltily, I watch the Patriots play every weekend, often building my schedule and plans around seeing the game. Why the guilt? I don’t know how morally defensible is football anymore, as we now know the severe damage it does to the players. We can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore. Is this our version of late decadent Rome, watching mostly young Black men take a terrible toll on each other for our mere entertainment?

What I’m reading:

Recently finished J.G. Ballard’s 2000 novel Super-Cannes, a powerful depiction of a corporate-tech ex-pat community taken over by a kind of psychopathology, in which all social norms and responsibilities are surrendered to residents of the new world community. Kept thinking about Silicon Valley when reading it. Pretty dark, dystopian view of the modern world and centered around a mass killing, troublingly prescient.

What I’m listening to:

Was never really a Lorde fan, only knowing her catchy (and smarter than you might first guess) pop hit “Royals” from her debut album. But her new album, Melodrama, is terrific and it doesn’t feel quite right to call this “pop.” There is something way more substantial going on with Lorde and I can see why many critics put this album at the top of their Best in 2017 list. Count me in as a huge fan.

November 3, 2017

What I’m reading: Just finished Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, her breathtakingly good second novel. How is someone so young so wise? Her writing is near perfection and I read the book in two days, setting my alarm for 4:30AM so I could finish it before work.

What I’m watching: We just binge watched season two of Stranger Things and it was worth it just to watch Millie Bobbie Brown, the transcendent young actor who plays Eleven. The series is a delightful mash up of every great eighties horror genre you can imagine and while pretty dark, an absolute joy to watch.

What I’m listening to: I’m not a lover of country music (to say the least), but I love Chris Stapleton. His “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” is heartbreakingly good and reminds me of the old school country that played in my house as a kid. He has a new album and I can’t wait, but his From A Room: Volume 1 is on repeat for now.

September 26, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished George Saunder’s Lincoln in the Bardo. It took me a while to accept its cadence and sheer weirdness, but loved it in the end. A painful meditation on loss and grief, and a genuinely beautiful exploration of the intersection of life and death, the difficulty of letting go of what was, good and bad, and what never came to be.

What I’m watching:

HBO’s The Deuce. Times Square and the beginning of the porn industry in the 1970s, the setting made me wonder if this was really something I’d want to see. But David Simon is the writer and I’d read a menu if he wrote it. It does not disappoint so far and there is nothing prurient about it.

What I’m listening to:

The National’s new album Sleep Well Beast. I love this band. The opening piano notes of the first song, “Nobody Else Will Be There,” seize me & I’m reminded that no one else in music today matches their arrangement & musicianship. I’m adding “Born to Beg,” “Slow Show,” “I Need My Girl,” and “Runaway” to my list of favorite love songs.

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#President's Corner #SNHUblogs

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sapphequinox · 8 years ago

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Lunar Violet: Chapter 1

Content Warning and Foreword: Just don’t read this. Seriously. One night instead of venting into a journal nobody would ever read, I decided to channel my turmoil and restlessness into a work of fiction. The result we have here is the first chapter of a hopefully not ongoing series, which if I write another word of it will be an anthology of short stories chronicling the lives of the people that live in a small town with a population of exactly 26 people. I will repeat in clear terms that this is in no way autobiographical in any way. For realsies. Also this is my “After Hours” blog now, which means this is now the destination for everything I decide to put out on this site that I deem not suited for display on my main blog. You have been warned.

Well, I guess it started that one night. Yeah, that was about the time, I’ll start there. I found myself hunched over my desk, passively scribbling away under the soft orange lamplight. Since my chair faced out the attic window, I always had a clear view of my muse at night: the bare neighborhood streets, free from the burden of its residents. Streetlights hummed and cicadas sang, providing the soundtrack to my work.

I’m not sure why, but at approximately 10:33 that night I’d felt an incredibly strong urge to write. Just write. I hadn’t any particular ideas of what exactly I was to write, but I’d decided that I was indeed going to use a pen to create a story upon paper. And so far it was going spectacularly. I’d gotten off to a shaky beginning, testing out different ideas to see if any broad concepts could draw some inspiration out of me. A cyberpunk space romance, historical fiction comedy set in East Asia, so on and so forth. I’d eventually decided on “Effervescent Gamble: Furtive Adventures in Neo Tokyo”. I’ll be honest and tell you that I’d come up with the title before the concept, and at the moment was going through the tasking process of doing the name justice.

Upon realizing that I’d been sitting and thinking about not being able to think about anything for quite awhile now, I decided to quit writing. Again. Defeated, yet still stirring with my lust for creativity and self-expression, my next course of action was to rise out from my slumped position out of my chair, and subsequently fall face first onto my bed. As I rolled over to examine my ceiling as I often do, I was once again prompted by a sheet of paper taped up there asking a question I’d mulled over many a night: “Should I masturbate?”

I thought this through carefully, eventually coming to the logical conclusion that, since I had no desire to sleep or play video games or go find drugs, the best course of action would indeed be to masturbate. Yet the struggles of a young man such as myself are never so short lived, as I had no material with which to aid my impulses. You see, back in the early 2000’s, I did not have the infinite library of smut, filth and gratification that is instantly available to me today. The family computer was downstairs, and my mother was downstairs. You see the dilemma.

Anyways, my first course of action was to sit back up and crouch down at the bottom of my desk, sliding open the black square drawer containing my magazines and graphic novels. I pulled out all the novels that were especially more graphic than the others, and laid them out on my bed.

I picked up the leftmost one I’d put down after sliding the drawer back closed with my foot. Izuremata’s Muffin Appreciation Club. This copy actually had a signature on the inner cover from the author, which upon opening the book I rediscovered alongside the slip of paper that fluttered out of the pages. I examined the paper.

Main chick’s got huge tits, lots of sexy stuff. Got this signed by the legend himself at L.A., enjoy. ~ Dad

What the fuck. I decided to put the note back and pick up the next book. It was one of my old favorites, Danger Squid Girl 32. I flipped to the folded page and sank into the bed, sliding my sweatpants down to my ankles.

My door flung open, the knob kicking up dust and fragments of drywall as it crashed against the wall. My mom, Eliana stood in the doorway, panting.

I set down the book on my stomach. “I’m looking at porn, what do you want?”

“Keith, there’s been an accident, down the street.” She looked out the window nervously. “Your dad went out earlier, and he hasn’t come back, and…”

“If you’re scared that it’s him, just go yourself already. You’ll have more time to pay your respects that way before they drag him to the station and beat him to death.”

This visibly upset her. “Keith, that’s not how it works, and you know I don’t do well with this sort of thi…” As often happened, she wasn’t able to finish her sentence, the last few words painfully choked with pain and fear, frustrated tears building up behind her innocent amber eyes. Giving up all semblance of authority, she slowly walked over and fell onto my bed, exploding into a fit of rattling sobs.

This made me feel awkward with my Pokemon boxers bulging with the power of my raw, unbridled cock, so I stood up and pulled my pants back up to my waist before sitting back down and offering a confused, reluctant arm around her shoulder. “I’m sure dad isn’t dead, Mom.”

This did not seem to stop her incessant crying.

“Would it make you feel better if I went down the street and checked by myself?”

She collected enough of herself to tone the hysterics down to a helpless whimpering, punctuated by the occasional heavy sob, just long enough to give a simple nod and look of thanks. The facade collapsed immediately as I rose to adorn my silk, velvet bathrobe, adorned in gold on the back with the text “If You’re Reading This, Take Me Now”.

“It’s your dad, alright.” The officer took an apathetic glance at the smouldering wreckage before going back to scribbling in his notepad.

“What?!” You stare into the flames, eyes widening with confusion and disbelief. “How?! Look at it! Have you even checked?!”

He put his notepad into his pocket before turning to face me, leaning against the trunk of the police car. “I mean, I’m not about to just go in and check myself kid, fire is hot.”

“Then how can you know?”

“Keith, come on. There’s like twenty people in town, I checked and all of them are accounted for except your pops. And if we had a visitor,” he he said, pointing his pen at his badge, “I’d have noticed them.”

I cursed the abnormal population density. “I can’t believe it…” I slowly sank to the gravelly street, coming to a rest with my arms around my knees. “I knew my dad would die before I moved out of the house, but… I never thought about how I’d have to actually be there for it.”

“Let me tell you, kid, that really sucks.” He took a sip of his Red Bull and wiped his nose with the mittened hand holding it. “You’re an unlucky boy. My dad died from overdosing on tapeworm tablets while I was fucking a sixty year old prostitute in Indonesia during a college trip. I didn’t even have to deal with the guilt I would have had if cell phones had existed back then, as I would have no doubt received a text or call notifying me of my father’s death either while I was fucking her, or while I was sneaking out of the brothel.”

I ignored his words of comfort, staring deeply into the ember-lit tar of the street, blackened by the ash of the man who never taught me how to play baseball, which I used often to lie to myself that he was the sole reason I never got into sports.

The officer slowly eased off the trunk and crushed the can of Red Bull against his flat forehead, wiping the sugary nectar off his pornstache before tossing the can into the enormous fire, which persisted without anyone seemingly giving a shit. “Well, It’s getting late, it’s about time I was off.”

I finally looked up, catching his retreating gaze. “Wait, you’re leaving? You’re not going to call in anybody to put out the fire, or try and search for clues to make sure nothing weird happened?” I pointed to his coat pocket, rising to my feet. “I saw you writing in that notepad earlier, is that just for show?”

“I’m just the guy that makes sure we don’t have to get insurance involved.” With that word, he turned around and hopped into the driver’s seat before silently drifting away, out of my life forever.

I thundered up the porch steps, every essence of my being brimming with bitter, misguided determination. After flinging the heavy oak door open and storming down the entrance hallway, I turned to walk through the kitchen and sat down in the chair in front of the family computer, entering the password all in one swift motion.

Password123

Without a moment’s hesitation, I dramatically drove the cursor over the closest word processing application, double clicking and immediately doubling down over the keyboard as the document opened up, furiously drumming my sweaty fingers against the keys, the covers for some flying off in fragments as I channeled my overwhelming resentment into every word I recklessly strummed out. My hatred and remorse quickly began to weave an immense, artful tapestry of contempt for everything ever conceived or heard of. The computer began to levitate from the clock speeds of the CPU, struggling to keep up with the rapid output of pure, disgusting rage as I indented paragraph after paragraph of my deepest, darkest true emotions.

After I’d hit the 10,000 word mark after about three minutes, I minimized the window and opened up the web browser, navigating to the first hardcore porn site I could think of and smashing my head into the keyboard, and then clicking on the first thing my headbanging conjured up in the site’s search engine.

My senses were blinded by foul darkness and corruption, I channeled the dark lord himself through my numb lust as I ripped my pants off, gripping my member with the strength of a billion suns as I rubbed myself like a piston on steroids and coke to the senseless kaleidoscope of colors and moaning that my distorted state of mind perceived the smut as. Inside my brain towers collapsed, universes imploded, nebulae died. For that brief moment, I was a god. I looked over my vast domain, effortlessly comprehending and calculating every galaxy I cast my all-knowing gaze over. I witnessed civilizations rise, empires fall. I clipped my toenails and hurled them into the ether, my tremendous, ethereal biceps rippling with holy power. Distant solar systems exploded as I rubbed myself under my billowing toga, crying tears of blood and liquid gold, each droplet creating a universe as they fell to the bottom of the void.

At least, that’s what I felt like should have happened.

I solemnly trudged up the cement stairs, limply gripping the door handle as I pushed into the entrance hallway. I was going to go back up to my room to write some more, but my mother encountered me before I even made it to the staircase.

“What happened, Keithy?” She looked down at me with her innocent, hopeful eyes, soon to be weighed down by the weight of my next sentence. I could barely manage.

“Yeah it’s him. His charred corpse is probably still somewhere in the burning wreckage out there. I doubt they’re going to stomp it out anytime tonight.” Unexpectedly, I began to choke on my words as I struggled to get them out, tears welling in my eyes both from the weight of what I was saying, and the realization that I was in fact my mother’s child. Potent, fermented tears began to stream down my hot cheeks, and I backed against the front door, sliding to a sitting position as my arms went limp at my sides, allowing myself to finally dissipate my supply of all the built up tears from years of anguish and depression.

My keen mother Eliana noticed this, and walked down to the front door, crouching down to my position and ruffling my hair. “There there, Keith. It’s okay, I’m still here.”

This didn’t make me feel much better. In fact, I felt worse upon remembering that my father was actually the parent I liked more, or resented less. In a sudden burst of sad, angry and weirdly sexual passion I launched off down the hallway, pushing my mother aside as I ran up the staircase, going off to sulk and be edgy in my room as I often did. Granted, this time I had a really good reason to do so, which I often use to convince myself that I’m not a terrible person, even though deep down I know that I hated my father almost as much as my mother, and really just hated my entire fucking life in general but was too afraid of pain to just end it all and jam a kitchen knife into my fucking throat and die.

#writing #trash #lunar violet

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thesnhuup · 6 years ago

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Pop Picks – December 4, 2018

December 4, 2018

What I’m listening to:

What I’m reading:

What I’m watching: