#why would you undo all of that to create a genuinely worse animal

[fertbutt]

I wish for all people who intentionally buy and breed wolfdogs to be torn to shreds eternally by a pack of wolves when they die and go to hell

[popculturebuffet]

House of Mouse Review: Not So Goofy or The Ungoofy Is Upon Us!

GG

Welcome back to the RIDE OF THE THREE CABLLEROS. And i’m hitting the ground running to continue the trek after some lessened activity over the holiday weekend. Especially with Christmas season already there.. and.. things to take care of. 

Your time will come, you blighted hell of an episode. But no today we’re talking about something actually good! It’s Not So Goofy! It’s back on in to the house of mouse as this was only one year after the previous episode. We’re on to season 2 though frankly i’d have to re-watch more of the show to spot a difference. The show really didn’t change all that much between seasons. The only difference i’ve heard of is Pete is ENTIRELY absent this season, so my long spiel on him being on the show continues to be worthless and I continue to not regret it. But since I covered most of the stuff I knew about the series and how much I liked it last time we can dive straight into the episode> And this one was a treat for me as Goofy was my faviorite watching this show back in the day and is tied with donald now as my faviorite of the classic characters.. not that it’s hard competition but still I love both. Goofy is kind, clumsy, and a loving father, he’s who we are and who we want to be all in one. As with last time, which you can find on the disney tab on my blog, i’ll be reviewing the host segment seperate from the short’s for coherency’s sake. So with that in mind...

NOT SO GOOFY: Hot Goofy on Beast Action We open with Mickey intorducing the show and everyone chanting house of mouse, house of mouse, which makes me want a version of the show that’s a disney fight club, with over the top smash bros or scott pilgrim style battles. God that’s a project I never completed.. reviewing that series... maybe some day i’ll just start from scratch and do that.. HINT. Point is instead  of Disney Fight Club, we get goofy breaking a bunch of shit, because this episode he’s extra clumsy. Though thanks tot his I am reminded the HOM’s jaintoral staff is the brooms from fantasia, which is a nice touch and we get a nice bit of Minnie sending all of them after Goofy keeps breaking stuff. So despite Mickey being the one interrupted constantly, everyone else is hte one to point it out, Minnie politley everyone else just sorta barging in. I was going to give out about them giving out when none of them were effected but.. really bad wait service really dose impact them all: Donald is co owner so if goofy injures someone he has to help pay the setlement, Minnie runs the staff and has had to have her brooms work double to clean up, Hoarace has to clean up structural damage, Daisy is guest services so she has to hear about it, Clarabelle only heard a rumor and Gus is chef so he has to remake the food. So i’m sympathetic to all of them.. except Gus. Gus your only gimmicks are your lazy, you eat things, and in animations case you only communicate by honking obnoxiously. You don’t get to insult a comedic genuis for doing his bit. 

But Goofy overhears this and is upset, saying they want him to be the oppsitie of goofy, ungoofy. I mean technically your right, but an ungoofy would be something more like this. 

“I WAIT INSIDE YOUR HOUSE UNTIL THE CRESENT DAWN THEN ONE BY ONE YOU’LL ALL BE GONE. “

See nothing like goofy. But no ungoofy in this episode’s case is just goofy acting refined and posh. And to help with that after the first cartoon, aka half the episode as i’m now realizing is standard, is...

I will never get tired of doing that. Rob Paulsen is back as Jose, and does a MUCH BETTER job this time. Though really that’s also because he has more to actually work with this time, so he can actually play the character. Him being a white guy playing a Brazilian is still unfortunate, still not his fault, and was covered more last time. We’ll get into how Jose helps goofy after the cut. 

So Jose helps goofy try to ungoofy himself.. which as established isn’t how that works but hey. So we get a funny montage of Goofy learning the ropes of being significant, getting a turkey on his head, and backslapping jose so hard he flies into the next room and goofy wonders where he is. I don’t have much to add, it’s just funny. It’s why reviewing comedy is hard. Besides being subjective sometimes that’s the most you can say. 

So it works, and Goofy helps everyone in a dignified manner.. and this is where the plot starts to slip up slightly, as for starters Goofy’s apperance is the same, he’s just closing his eyes a lot. He’s also not really doing anything wrong... the closest he gets is massaging bugs out of the beasts hair when he has an itch. 

And that’s because he didn’t ask if they have an open marraige.. I mean they probably do, Belle’s open minded and beast has needs, but still, he should’ve asked. Otherwise it’s going great.  As for where it goes wrong.. it’s because he dosen’t really DO anything bad. He isn’t an uptight jerkass about it or anything, he isn’t mean or tyranical to the customers or dosen’t transition to that he’s just.. not himself. Which isn’t good, btu the most he does in that regard is just not give the goofy laugh. Mickey and Minnie just suddenly kind of decided “Whelp this is bad let’s fix that”. And Disney would do this better, one of the Mickey Mouse shorts had Minnie, swooning over a sophisicated gentelman type on tv, give Mickey finishing lessons which turned him into a snobbish monster who broke up with her for daring to serve Bologna and not having a waiter. That WORKED.. and not just because we got Donald and Goofy kidnapping Mickey. But because we were shown there was nothing wrong with him in the first place, and there was something bad with the change. 

Here Goofy’s just.. compitent at his job. he’s not cruel to say max or clarabelle, he’s just refined. He should be himself, i’m entirely on board with that, but he’s not shown being worse off. I’m not saying he should stay posh, just give him a clear reason why his life is worse off this way is all. It’s basic storytelling.  But since Jose can’t just.. undo his training because he dosen’t know how they bring in Panchito! And we get another delightful song as Panchito tries to give a good lesson on being yourself with the help of his fellow cabs by explaning his long ass middle name... with Rob Paulsen’s voice. Yeah while Rob dosen’t play Panchito outside of song, he does end up voicing him for the number, likely because of his signature rapid fire delivery in music, but still does a GREAT job at that too. Serously I wasn’t just trying to placate people calling him a legend last time, he REALLY is fantastic, he was just given nothing to work with and here the diffrence shows as the song is really catchy, really beautifully animated and really fun and really plays to Rob’s strengths. Again casting a white man as a Latino is .. pretty sketchy, but it’s not Rob’s fault and i’m sure if Carlos was even offered the song, or even if he wansn’t, Rob apologized for it and made sure it was okay> Wether it actually was I don’t know but I can’t genuinely see Rob Paulson as the kind of guy to be racisit or steal rolls or any of that stuff. It’s likely they just knew he could sing fast and wanted to do that and dind’t think through implications. 

The song dosen’t quite work so they play a short, and when that fails Mickey closes the show sincerly thanking everyone and apologizing to Goofy. Goofy is restored.. horay? What do you think ungoofy?

“SOON THE APOTHEOSIS WILL BE APON THEE AND ALL WILL BE GOOF. ALL WILL BE GOOF. “ Oh you always say that Final Thoughts on Not So Goofy Wraparound: Not terrible, but it’s really thin plot wise. but joke and song wise it’s REALLY good, so overall i’d say i’ts just okay> Not a great or memorable plot, or an original one really, btu the use of the cabs is FAR better this time around, the song is really damn good, and there are some good jokes, so overall it works. Like the last one the wraparound is nothing specail, but it’s still deeply entertaining. Speaking of entertaining, let’s talk shorts. 

Roller Coaster Painters:  It’s one of those old “Mickey, Donald and Goofy” have a buisness deals, where all are hired to paint a rollercoaster with the person who does the most getting a free pass for life and Donald naturally being the only one who cares. A paint war insues between Donald and Mickey... mostly because Donald wants the prize real bad and Mickey wants to “give him a run for his money” instead of just helping him because he’s a dick I guess? I dunno, but it escalates to them paiting each other and, in my favorite part, Donald stealing shit from the park to create a paint arsenal for himself, forging the prize to get his revenge. Fun paint base fighting ensues, and Goofy inevitably wins and rips the thing. SImple, but really charming with really fluid and wonderful animation helping accenutate the hyjinks. Really good slaptstick stuff and a VAST improvment over the last episode’s longer short. 

Goofy’s Extreme Sports Wakeboarding:  Just a fun, silly skit of Goofy wakeboarding, my faviorite bit being him doing the tantrum, which his him doing a child’s tantrum in mid-air. What was your faviorite bit UnGoofy?

“BEHOLD MY SEED, THE SEED OF YOUR DOOM, THE SEED OF ALL WORLDS AND THE SEED OF ALL BLOOMS!” 

Awwwwww.... he has a kid now. 

How to Wash Dishes: Another How to Bit. Not as strong as the last one but still fun and throughly relatable as Goofy’s a dishwasher, which having been one twice now, I can relate to his surly disposition at the narrator guy talking it up. The Narrator then.. has goofy run up credit card debt because he’s a terrible person, hijinks ensue, and Goofy ends up.. washing dishes. Overall a fun short, and again relatable as Washing Dishes is not great. Not quite as good as the other two, but still enjoyable because well. it’s goofy after all. 

OveralL Thoughts: This was more like it. While the plot of the main segment was kind of thin and nonsensical in places... it worked because this is more of a comedy show and the wraparounds are more focused on jokes and crossover gags than a real plot, and worked SLIGHTLY better. The shorts were also really great, making this a hell of a lot more fun to watch. Highly recommend it to any cabs or house of mouse fan or if your intrested in house of mouse, this is a good one to try out.  If you liked this review, reblog it, like it, comment etc etc, and if you have an episode of house of mouse, another disney show, or just another show in general you’d like me to cover you can comission episodes by sending me a direct message on here or an ask to get my discord to hash things out there. Right now comissions are ONLY 3 bucks through monday, so get em now while their hot! And until next time there’s always another rainbow.  NEXT TIME: It’s Don Rosa again! Horary!. 

[writerice]

Honestly, South Park is a really good show. Anyone who calls it racist today, fundamentally misunderstood why it makes of fun of busybodies, as well as why remaining chilled, calm and cool is actually a good thing. People complain a lot that South Park is a show where uncaring is cool, and where people who care too much are the butts of jokes. Now, I never want to do this- I don’t want to deny someone else their perspective- But these opinions are built on shaky premises, and misses the mark.   First lets start with Eric Cartman, who is recognized as the source of a lot of the bigotted comedy in the show. Eric Cartman, ever since the first season, had almost always been put in the role of an antagonist/ that one drama queen who no one wants to get involved with. He finds ways to manipulate situations if it’ll mean he’ll receive something out of it, and is a self-centered person to the extreme. When he says bigotted things, we’re supposed to find him disagreeable and hateful, and his being funny will never make what he says to be okay. We’re also supposed to feel refreshened whenever Stan and Kyle immediately admonish him for being a dick, which is also funny, because holy shit, not only do we have a child spouting antisemitic bullshit, but we have children who will actively tell their peer to fuck off! Its wonderous. This is WHY South Park was so fascinating to begin with; Before South Park, there was never a seriously funny depiction of kids using realistic adult profanity while having childlike discussions on topics that were considered political.  Now lets move onto Stan and Kyle: These two are clearly shown to be awesome and cool kids who just want to have fun and enjoy their lives. They don’t want to be roped into things that adults tell them that they’re supposed to be worried about. They’re kids, they live in the present. They live uncomplicated lives, as any 8-year old should, unless its something they’re interested in, like an adventure involving other kids from their class (anyone remember them capturing a paper fortune teller from the girls?). They don’t force themselves to care about things. They understand from a young age that ungenuine about causes can be harmful, and a waste of time and energy. 

When they DO genuinely care about things, we have cool and rich plots emerge that are related to our understanding of them as characters- Stan has successfully helped save the lives of veal up for slaughter, as well as whales. Kyle navigates his Jewish faith and identity while being one of the most compassionate human beings on television. Even better than that, these boys arent’ even particularily strongly identified. Stan isn’t that “animal rights activist”, and Kyle isn’t that “humanitarian child”, they’re flexible and dimensional characters. They have their moments where they’re just being kids and are relaxing and having fun like normal, as opposed to brooding over shit that they can’t control. It seemed like South Park had an accurate depiction of what a healthy attachment to identity/cause actually looked like, WAY beyond this era of neuroticism where people are encouraged box themselves.

It says a lot of sad things about children nowadays, too. Children in the current generation are pushed harder than in prior generations in being perfect students, with mandatory volunteer work pushed onto them and being told that they need to develop their life’s passion in time for college plans. Some of them get pushed into becoming esports stars or child Youtubers by their parents. When do they even have the chance to be children anymore? 

Now, onto the adults of the show: The adults are always screwing things up. They want to ride on causes that they aren’t truly aware of. 

They are their own society’s disruptors; They often neglect to critically examine whether their call for action and change are justified. They don’t check to see whether their actions are necessary, or if their methods are reasonable. Sometimes, their actions create more damage than if they didn’t do anything at all! And this is why we mock them- Not “for caring”, but because they’re busy bodies; Their motivation to act or call for change comes less from wanting to affect meaningful change within their society, and comes more out of a vague desire to want to “better themselves”. 

Its the type of selfishness that we don’t really speak enough about in our current society as we should be- How people get intertwined into causes they aren’t truly thoughtful enough about, because they’re just encouraged to get passionate about “anything” that moves them, or “anything that seems worthwhile”.

And this is both stupid, as well as dangerous, because you want people to be mindful about what the real affect of their “help” is. Some things that people do in the name of “help” either don’t help the people it’s intended to help (the only poor family in South Park, the Mc Cormicks, get a single can of vegetables on Thanksgiving via a gameshow-like contraption, and they don’t even get a can-opener for it), or make matters worse for those it claims to help (Like Bono claiming that Timmy playing in a band was akin to mocking his disability).  People can, and should be encouraged to help make a difference, but you don’t want a culture where you keep pushing people to change things for the vague reasoning of “being a good person”. You want people who are informed, aware, are capable of critical thinking, and who can tell when and where their efforts are actually needed. 

Also, this is extremely important: But South Park is, like literally everything ever, a product of it’s time. This show was made during the 1990′s to early or late 2000′s, when things like media activist groups existed to police and censor stuff for people because of those things being deemed “insensitive”. This was before the internet was fully used on the scale it is today, so people were being limited from being able to watch/read/play or otherwise access media based purely on stupid, petty shitty reasons.

Like not allowing children to enjoy Canadian television because farting or using cusswords is “too offensive”, where you were dealing with Karens who had way too much power and time to spend. It meant telling Karens/Boomers relax and not to deprive other people of their ability to express themselves just because they didn’t think their interests were “appropriate”. Totally a different thing than when we talk about the generalized concept of sensitivity today, when we’re refering to how human beings are made to feel as based on their identity. 

Kyle’s lectures at the end of an episode are meaningful- It doesn’t exist to “undo” any offensiveness in an episode. He’s a voice of reason who brings together the social commentary. I don’t see why anyone would ever have a problem with it. Is it obvious and easy? Yes. Does it put a nice cap on the end of an episode to return everything to status quo in time for the next one? Yes. I loved it. I thought it made for a comfortable, easy viewing experience. It may be considered formulaic, but thats how they made the end of an otherwise edgy episode feel wholesome, or depart a message of value.

Its easy to see this as an “attack on caring”, if you’re applying it directly to today’s movements and stuff, but that requires a lot of willful ignorance, and an even greater lack of understanding the context the show was made in. We all have access to wikipedia, no one has an excuse. 

TL;DR, it didn’t “age badly”. It was extremely relevant for its time. Context matters, and this show was perfect for the context of it’s time. The creators are doing their best to address current modern day topics with new story-telling, so maybe look to the present and be amazed by how much they’ve decided to change in those regards instead of repeatedly making everyone who grew up with the show feel old. Sincerely, a nonbinary pansexual liberal woman of color who just wants to enjoy South Park as the greatest still-running animated satire ever, thank you

[whatisthisnonsense]

Okay you know what I am gonna talk shit in a proper well-thought-out manner because I’m salty and stressed and I may as well channel it into something fun like yelling about anime in an over the top display of angery as befitting this cesspool of a social media platform. This being said I’m gonna do it under a read-more ‘cause most of ya’ll ain’t got time for no negative nonsense and some of you genuinely enjoy Tri, and you know what, I respect you, you’re valid.

Okay so to explain how much I want to throw Bandai into a dumpster, we first need to go back and explain Adventure and the fiasco that was 02.

Digimon Adventure came out in 1999 (March 6th in japan and August 14th in the states, which coincidentally means this show came out exactly on my sixth birthday!) and lasted for about a year, with 54 episodes. The plot was simple; seven punkass grade schoolers turned out to have been chosen by fate to defend the Digital World, an alternate plane of reality created by various forms of digital information (the wee baby internet of the era, for example), mostly to kind of justify Bandai’s V-Pet (Tamogatchis but they’re gross and can FIGHT) and sell toys. So like, Transformers but with more human characters and kickass monsters and sometimes a lesson about the Power Of Friendship. Later, they find out they were chosen because they saw their neighborhood get wrecked by two monsters and Inexplicably Forgot This, as well as the fact there’s actually a missing member of their group (which less than surprisingly turned out to be the leader character’s little sister, who had already been seen in a prior episode and had also been involved in that early monster attack). It was hokey, the english dub generally bordered on that of a proto-abridged series if not aggressively sanitizing things (turning sake into green chili sauce, for example) and it was just good dumb fun and in the end everyone was crying anyway because dammit, while it was dumb fun you still cared about these characters and loved how they grew up. And then came 02.

Hoo boy. Digimon 02 came out in 2000 (April 2nd in japan and August 19th in the states) and lasted for another year or so. While sometimes listed as a second season, in truth it was a sequel series and it had...some interesting ideas, lets say. And I mean that sincerely! They did have some good ideas! But it was pretty clear from the lack of direction and the constant roller coaster of serious and stupid that it was being a sequel for the sake of being a sequel. For example, a whole new super secret crest turned up out of nowhere, which brings up a lot of questions in the lore but is mostly used to prove Ken isn’t irredeemable because he’s a Chosen Child ,as well as the questions about how this Crest is still present and useable and then literally gets no use. No Ultimate Form Wormmon for you, folks, NORMAL digivolution is out! I think I and @yunisverse have made our opinion on how to use that crest better clear while we’re being salty over Wizardmon, ha People have said that it’s big draw was that it had a heavier focus on character development and...yes and no? On the one hand, Ken and Cody’s arcs were genuinely enjoyable, Kindness shenanigans aside, as was occasionally exploring TK and Kari’s trauma, something often brushed over in the original series. On the other hand, more or less the whole of Adventure centered AROUND character growth where in 02 it’s...sporadic. Sometimes even random. However the main two reasons everyone was mad at 02 were these;

The original digidestined that were not Kari or TK got shunted onto the backburner, usually using excuses as they had given up their crest powers sometime between Our War Game and the present (despite that A) this is otherwise disregarding the fact they were supposedly not able to enter the digital world again until 02 and B) the power is literally inside them as part of their core, not something the digiworld actually gave to them, and while it could be diminished it could never actually be removed) or that it was the New Kids turn, often with wildly out of character personality developments. (Looking at you, Sora’s new docileness and Mimi’s lack of involvement in most of the plot period.)

The epilogue, which not only gave everyone really weird future jobs (why is Matt an astronaut?!) but also seemed pretty much out to be as aggressively Happily Ever After without actually stopping to think about any implications or actual lead-ups.

02 usually gets a pass from riding on the Adventure coattails, but everyone still tended to be at least disappointed in what had occurred. Also, more serious takes on Digimon, such as Tamers and some of the games, had been growing in popularity.

Thus Bandai, in it’s infinite wisdom, decided to cash back in on Nostalgia by focusing on the Adventure kids, making them closer to 02 so they’re older and they can therefore do more serious mature takes like Tamers, while also trying to rectify how they would even begin to come around to their epilogue jobs. They do this by killing the 02 cast in the first two minutes.

Welcome to Tri folks! Okay, so the 02 cast isn’t actually dead, but we don’t know where they are for six movies. Six movies!! The most we know for a few years is Ken, for some reason, has reverted to evil! And he has Imperialdramon, which implies Davis is brainwashed too!

He is basically doing this most of the series (which was initially going to be a mini-series before becoming a series of movies which then proceed to often be cut up into episodes, which that alone should tell you the problems BEHIND the scenes much less on screen) and we find out what he is (not actually Ken but an evil Gennai clone which is also out of nowhere) and what he’s doing (apparently bringing Yggdrasil, long time lore big bad of various digimon continuities and also god, into the Adventure storyline) not by efforts of the kids. Oh no. They’re too busy playing with their new friend Mei!

God I wish I was joking. The original squad literally shows no concern for where the 02 gang is until halfway through, and it’s a handwave at best and quickly moved on from. Hell, they barely react to “Ken” and CHEER on defeating Imperialdramon! More gravitas was given to having to kill the plot coupon of the day, Meicoonmon, than someone they actually know and should be upset about. Also making Tai NOT want to rush into a fight (what?), Turns Out Homeostatis Is Also Evil Or At Least Amoral (why), a reveal one of the backstory five original digidestined went mad with grief (no), and also I guess for some reason the kids and digimon were separated again given their reactions despite 02′s ending? That’s. That’s not even keeping your own continuity. Why are you like this. Also connecting to the epilogue just seem to be on a whim (not metaphor, Matt decides to be an astronaut on a whim), the general lack of gravitas in most moments followed by moments of SEVERE gravitas (which is the 02 problem but Worse), and bad jokes. I don’t mean Good Bad Jokes like Adventure, just really not funny jokes. And the real bitch of the matter? It had a few things that should’ve made it AWESOME! Like listen, I miss these idiot kids a lot, and the concept of a virus forcing a reboot on the digiworld and thus having to explore, finally, the digimon as characters and what they would be like without the kids? That’s cool! The idea of undoing all the Perma Digideaths (like WIZARDMON goddammit, and in this own show friggin’ Leomon again) with said reboot and thus having a pretty legitimate reason to allow it? Also cool! Worldbuilding about the previous five digidestined? Neat! And lets be real, you all cried at the cast version of Butter-Fly. You know you did. But the thing is they didn’t DO anything with most of this, or did it in a sloppy way. Example; the virus was basically a means to an end for waking up Yggdrasil (I’m not calling him King Drasil, that’s stupid), right? Why? When the Adventure-verse, often to it’s own detriment, is actively tied to the Milleniumon mythos, you could just pull in that eldritch horror and finally have Ryo make sense everywhere not japan. Or heck, the Dark Ocean! Remember the Dark Ocean? Where literally cthulu is and also Daemon now? Apparently neither do the script writers since that would’ve been a golden opportunity.  Of course, this would be asking for continuity, which Tri has issues with within its own narrative. Remember when I said the reboot should’ve undone all permadeaths? Yeah, Wizardmon still shows up as a ghost later to lead Kari out of trouble. No lines or anything, just pops up facing away from the audience and leads her out, and then vanishes, despite the fact that according to the rules they made up for the reboot, he should be a cute little Mokumon in Primary Village at the moment who remembers nothing. Also it kind of low-key has the vibe that growing up is terrible and results in having to make awful decisions? Which I’m not sure is what they meant to do, but it does pretty much have that end result. And that sucks! Even Tamers didn’t do that! Growing up is HARD, sure, but there are GOOD things about it too, and being Adventure one would think that would be the main focus! Nope. I just. This should have been good and when it was announced I was super excited and now I’m pretty much exasperated by its mere existence. And now we’re getting a sequel after ANOTHER timeskip.

Bandai if this is how you give us a nostalgia feels trip, do us a favor and let Adventure die. You’re just making the sugary memories of childhood have a bitter aftertaste. Or, if you must, just do a proper reboot. Tie up things that actually WERE wrong with the original series and do some clean ups but otherwise leave it untouched. We all know you’re trying to capture the magic twice, guys, you’re not even trying to hide it now. TL;DR, The only parts I like about Tri are Butter-Fly (cast version) and the fact Tai and Matt are gayer than ever

[its-a-lark-blog]

(Art by Carlos Amaral.)

Otherkin; As in, Not Your Kin

Cor, look at that sexy beast! Anyway, I wanted to write this as a message to non-otherkin to explain both why we're here, why there'll always be more of us, and why we aren't going anywhere. This is aimed at trans folk especially who wrongly believe that we exist to torment them.

Buckle up, it'll be a ride.

An emotional one, probably.

This is a tricky topic to talk about. I think the problem is is how does one talk about deep-seated, emotional pain without foolishly inviting the melon collies?

It's a pickle.

The thing is is that I absolutely do have to touch on something that I know will make most people uncomfortable in order to move forward. You see, as a disabled person who's both physically scarred and deformed, I've known nothing but the hatred of humanity for the apparently grotesque sin of my birth.

Your privilege, in this case, is that you'll never know what it feels like to live day to day with a crushing burden of guilt over actually having been born, and choosing to stay alive. As I covered in my prior tirade about vaccines and cures, humans don't really like that which isn't like them -- they respond unreasonably with fear or hatred.

Therefore, if I am the target of this, then surely I'm not human?

I believe that imprinting is a thing humans do. However, if the only home you've known is broken and your parents have only one of two modes -- absent, or abusive -- then you're unlikely to imprint upon them. I imprinted upon dogs. You see, my youngest self found that dogs were patient, kind, and loving. I didn't feel all this rampant hatred that wracked the minds of others, so am I a dog?

I don't have any illusions about my otherkin status. I don't think I have a special soul, I don't believe there's anything to it beyond my disocnnect with humanity.

Just as a trans person identifies with a different gender, I identify with a different species. I know -- for a fact -- that for some trans people, the reason they're the way they are is due to self-loathing of their own gender for one reason or another. It's not that different, really. It's just that I loathe my species. Humanity isn't particularly special.

This might sound like misanthropy, but that's an incorrect appellation. That would require that I hate people. I don't. In fact, I bear people no ill will. I'm an emotional baby who'd never want anyone to suffer, I'd cry. The difference is that I'm not sold on the laughably overestimated illusion of our greatness.

In fact, I look at humanity and I don't see greatness. I see people behaving in tribal ways. There's greed and supremacy to be seen wherever one looks. We're systematically destroying our world because humans only relate to humans, so if an animal's habitat is crushed underfoot, what does it matter? I have mused, in the past, that if you could put a smiling human face and skin on a tree, without making it some kind of body horror, then people would care about trees being felled.

Humans are so, so self-obsessed. Our species has its head so far up its own arse it can't see anything else. It has its head so, so far up its own arse that it actively hates anything that isn't like it or doesn't worship it. There's a hierarchy to humanity, and that hierarchy always reads 'how similar to the ones in charge are you?'

For black people, it's that they weren't white enough so they had to endure slavery; For women, it's that they don't 'man up' enough, so they're met with institutionalised sexism. The thing is is tha tthere's supremacy in every facet of humanity. Every part of it. Everywhere.

A white person hates a black person for being black; A straight person hates a gay person for being gay; A gay person hates a trans person for being trans; A straight man hates a feminist for being feminist; A feminist hates a trans person for being trans; A trans person hates an otherkin for being otherkin; And so on, and so on, ad nauseum.

It's fucking ridiculous and terrible.

In order to achieve happiness you have to destroy someone else's life? I know trans people hate otherkin most of all, so it's they who're most invested in destroying our lives to benefit themselves. And that's how it goes, isn't it? It's all about supremacy and greed, look at for your own herd, and just fuck everyone else. They can go to hell. Right?

I don't like humanity. I don't buy the spiel we're selling. I'm really not impressed, humanity. I'm really, truly not impressed.

This is why if I were handed a box with a button on it that I knew where if I pressed it it would exterminate human life without causing any suffering whatsoever? My mind would be flooded, overloaded to breaking point with very sound, logical, well reasoned arguments as to why I should push it. There would be very, very few dissenting voices. One of the few questions would be whether it'd also include the rejects forced to endure human form as well, as they don't deserve it. Only actual humans possess enough hatred to deserve that.

Why would I sanction that? Humans are awful. Let's be honest, if they ever made it to space there'd be campaigns of genocide against any species that wasn't advanced enough to fight them off, and they'd be stupid enough to pick fights with those more powerful than them as well just because they don't look, act, and/or sound like they do.

Humanity is awful. I've known that since day one.

I was born into this world forced to feel guilt for my very existence, from day one. I wasn't the perfect child, I wasn't what they wanted, I wasn't 'them' enough for my parents. I was too deformed and ugly to fit into society. I was a 'monster' just because of how I was born and the hardships I'd endured. It's worse because some of the welts on my hide are from the hatreds I've known.

And I'm just not impressed. I don't see the vaunted kindness, I'm not seeing the open-mindedness, I don't very often witness the awareness. Now, don't get me wrong, I think that humans are very clever creatures. They're certainly architects and builders, they can imagine and create things and that's worthy of praise, to be sure. There are, however, factors which are much more important for a sapient species to be truly considered advanced.

And humanity doesn't yet possess them.

It's an astounding feat of narcissism that we believe that just because no one has bothered to reveal themselves to us, that we must therefore be alone in the Universe. Only a human could come up with an idea so solipsistic. It could just be that aliens aren't impressed with this world of self-obsessed narcissists. Just perhaps, maybe.

I mean, if I were an alien, I wouldn't bother. And I do feel like an outsider. I think humanity can be, for the most part, untenably terrible and monstrous.

So, consider the child who's imprinted on dogs, reviled by humanity for his disability. A story any truly disabled child can attest to. Some more than others. You grow through this sea of hatred, it's all you've known, humans never saw fit to welcome you as one of their own. So you're an outsider, you don't belong to the herd. You're othered.

Throughout my youth, I looked upon horror and 'monsters' with very different eyes. I knew monsters to be peach skinned, human shaped things. So if I saw a hairy beast with claws, I knew it had to be like me -- it was a creature that these awful things had hurt so terribly, and it was just trying to survive.

I felt a kinship with it.

Whenever I saw a dragon beset by a group of four of these peach-skinned creatures? I didn't see four 'heroes' who'd set out to lay low some fell beast. No, no no no. What reason would I have to believe that? It's not like there's any form of fantasy forensics to try to ascertain guilt, is there? No, it's nothing more than home invasion.

You have these four evil, greedy bandits who'd lie through their teeth to justify breaking into someone's house and stealing all their shit. I felt more and more for the dragon. Anything that humans would respond to with fear and hatred? I, in turn, would feel an increasingly strong bond with and connection to. As time marched on, that feeling of becoming more distant from any human identity had grew.

And here I am. Humans are monsters. They disgust me. I feel self-loathing over being stuck in a human body. Why? Isn't that obvious? All of my life other, 'normal' humans have made it clear that I'm not like them. I've been made to feel unwelcome and othered.

They've told me I'm not like them, rather vehemently. I've felt that I'm not like them. I don't identify as human. I identify as that which humanity hates. That's what I am.

I am the creature you made me.

If I am that which humans hate, I will call myself werewolf. I find the aesthetic attractive, both beautifully and in a physical sense. I'm sexually aroused by werewolves, not by humans. It's the way my mind is now wired. This is who I am. This IS who I am. I'm sorry that only stokes the fires of your hatred more, though considering that that's all I've ever known... You'll forgive me if I don't care much, eh?

The thought of being a werewolf and being with a werewolf provides me with comfort. I feel safe. They scare away the disgusting monsters called 'human.' Moreover, these undeniably wondrous creatures can undo the curse called 'human' and unlock the truth within. This, of course, humans call a curse. I call it freedom.

I don't know if werewolves actually exist, mind you. Speaking probablistically they likely don't. The narrative is there, though, and by any means I had I would choose to become like them over the evil homunculi who call themselves 'human.'

You see, I don't hate like a human. I don't hate feminists, gay people, trans people, or anyone. I don't have a hierarchy of that which is more similar to me or not. I don't want to be superior and actively avoid that entitlement in any way I can.

The end result of all this is that I feel genuinely detached from humanity. To them, I am a monster. To me, they are the monsters.

The difference? I've never beaten, tortured, broken, or scarred anyone. I wouldn't. I couldn't. Like I said, I'd cry. All I know from humans is that they're these bipedal creatures who're in an unending war of supremacy, they always want to strive to be so superior to one another, so much better, no matter whom they've crushed to get there.

I'll just be over here, being a werewolf, identifying as a werewolf, and not having any truck with that.

And here's the thing? I'm hated for embracing this, too! It's truly remarkable. I'm told that I'm a joke, a troll, that none of my feelings are relevant. I'm told that I'm a construct invented to torture trans people despite probably being older and thus having suffered longer than any of the trans people I was supposedly invented to torment.

This is the thing with humanity. You'll even weaponise myself and other otherkin to hurt your own. It's incredible. You're so fucked up. You're so completely fucked up.

And you wonder why aliens haven't taken notice of us.

It's because of all of the HATE.

Like I said, I'll just be over here, not hating. All your hatred does, really, is just convince me of how utterly correct I am to not identify with humanity in the first place. It serves to illustrate how correct I am about how you're fuelled by hatred first and foremost before anything else. And that I -- and any sane person -- would have every reason to not identify as human.

No one who's free of hate should identify as human.

And that's all otherkin is. It's being hated so much, by so many people, you come out the other side as something else entirely. Not something better, not something worse, just something that's different. Something other.

And that's why the world has otherkin. Because you're so narcissistically self-obsesed. Becasue you hate.

And as long as you hate, there'll be people who'll end up so detached from humanity they'll have no choice but to be otherkin. That's just how that works.

And detached as I am. I choose werewolf. It's a construct I identify with. A creature that doesn't hate, that's immeasurably compassionate and kind to their own, and is feared by humans. Speaking of? It always amused me so much that folks believed that otherkin werewolves picked werewolves because of the 'beauty and nobility of wolves' or whatever else. In my case, I picked them solely because I like dogs and you hate 'em, and there's kinship in that which is hated by you. Today, you hate them now more than ever due to the furry-/otherkin-connections they might have, which means my kinship with them is stronger with them than it's ever been.

And no, I don't hate you. I just wish you'd stop hating. Until you do? I'll just be over here in my non-human club for non-humans where we can be free of the hate. Because that's what we are, right? Non-human. You told us so. At length.

What else were we supposed to think? We're your most despised rejects. We were never a part of your glorious species to begin with. So we might as well be werewolves, dragons, or elves. And that... that really opens your mind to all of the possibilities. Once you're outside of the human bubble, you learn you can love anything. Anything. There's something special about that that you'll never understand.

I love werewolves. I'm a werewolf otherkin. I'd be a werewolf any day over a human. I'm aesthetically attracted to their feral beauty. I'm sexually attracted to these hairy were beasts with mottled skin, bulging veins, and giant claws and fangs. I'm emotionally attracted to them as protectors who'd keep me safe from hateful humans. They're great!

It's a laugh, really, because I guess werewolves sort of an expression of my disabilities. Of my autism, the shakes, my PTSD, my physical deformity and scarring. I guess it's just me coming to terms with how it's okay to be me, even if I'm despised for that. It allows me to be comfortable with myself and to find strength in that. That you'd hate me for that or you'd want to take that away for petty reasons? That you wouldn't want me or any other person to identify this way in order to find happiness, stability, and peace?

Well, that's kind of sad.

And honestly? The hatred you'd feel for my love of werewolves (aesthetically, emotionally, and especially sexually) just serves to make me stronger. It only serves to strengthen the bond I feel with non-human creatures. So... Bring it, I s'pose!

Being an otherkin is rad. So... Fuck your hatred, I'm a werewolf!

Let me leave you with one, closing thought: If I woke up tomorrow and I was a giant insect, I'd shrug it off. No worse off, right? Just another form of life. Besides, compound eyes are quite lovely, I think, and I'd be able to fly! Whereas most humans would likely commit suicide as an act of final, narcissistic defiance.

"Oh no, I'm not beautiful any more! Goodbye, cruel world!"

Humans. Sigh. I don't identify with you any more. Your self-obsessed narcissism leading to the exclusion of any and all that don't share a certain prerequisite verisimilitude with you has made you an insufferably insouciant, unempathetic, and belligerent species.

There's nothing to like. At least, not from the outside. From the inside it must seem lovely, where everyone who meets that prerequisite quota is looking out for one another. Still, mine is an outside perspective. Humanity's repugnant self-obsession has made it an ugly species.

Let's be honest, the only 'care' you have for those unlike you is a selfish expression of your desire to 'cure' them to make them more like you. That's not a kindness, that's a hatred.

Good to be otherkin.

Addendum

I guess this is why I feel so strongly about six-limbed dragons as well. I secondarily identify there but it's more, I think, that I'd want dragon friends. I think the world would be a more amazing place if giant shadows were cast from large wings on high, knowing that there are these giant, truly magnificent creatures watching out for you.

Except we're not allowed to have that, are we? To make a dragon four-limbed? It takes away their hands (which are on their forelegs) and their minds. They're now feral, slavering monsters fit for glorious humans to slaughter. We're not allowed to have them as our friends.

I don't know. It's like humans are so uncomfortable that we relate to non-human sapience that they want to take that away however they can. Dragons had been on this constant track of progression toward being the gentle protector that we know and love, you can see that with instances like Draco in Dragonheart.

Can't have that, though, can we?

If it's not a human it has to be a monster, a true evil. This narcissism where we're not allowed to have our non-human friends just because it makes self-obsessed people a little bit uncomfortable is unsettling to me and just drives home how unwelcome humanity makes the 'rejects' like myself feel.

So what happens to our six-limbed friends? They're amputated, we get to watch them writhe around on their bellies like dogs who've had their forelegs removed. I know people say it's for realism, that they look like bats, et cetera. I also believe we all know how that's completely untrue. I've worked at a bat sanctuary, I've seen bats walk and run.

If you don't believe me, look up 'bat walking' and 'bat running' on Google. I'll belabour this until I'm blue in the face becasue as someone who's lived with this bizarre prejudice for a long time, I know what it's really about. It's about people being generally uncomfortable with non-human sapience, as it might 'upstage' them and show them up by being kinder, more patient, and sweeter than they are.

You don't have to worry about that with amputated body horror dragons though, right? Yeah, you get to be comfortable now, at the expense of those of us who miss our dragon friends.

Is it any wonder I don't identify with humans, for the most part?

[myvoicenottheoneyougiveme]

Preach.

It's my fault I'm being stalked. It's my fault there is a psycho trying to undo every aspect of my life. It's my fault.

It's my fault. It's my fault that these games are being played. It's my fault that socially someone is destroying my life. It's my fault that on a whim, this psycho...

It's my fault. It's somethign I'm failing to do or be. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault "this" is happening to me.

It's my fault. Preach.

It's my fault that the right to discretion, that the very fabric of social bonding is being rended, that the concept of trust, that the act of a door that opens outward not one that's kicked inward.... it's my fault. What's happening to me is my fault.

It's my fault. It's my fault.

It's my fault.

I just need to be more this or be more that or be less this. It's my fault. What's happening to me, the consequences of it, but regardless of the consequences....

I said don't touch me. I said, here no further. I said hands off. I said what makes human bonds is choice. I said that what makes trust, makes connection, is choice.

But you kick the door down.

Like an animal on a leash thrown naked onto a stage...

it's my fault.

It's my fault.

Tell me it's my fault. Tell me that what's happening to me is my fault.

I just need to be raped so I can get used to it. "Get used to it" "Get over it"

It's my fault. It's my fault.

Tell me again

I said “no”. But the trauma of it all, my reaction to it, it’s my fault.

SHHH SHHHH SHHHHH, just let it happen... Don’t be a baby. Just need “exposure”. Just need to build “immunity”.

It’s not traumatic. It’s not traumatic. How it makes me feel, what it does to me, that’s my problem, it’s my problem. It’s my fault.

It’s my fault “this” is happening.

Tell me again, it’s my fault.

Preach at me. Tell me again

Edit:

In the face of yesterday’s attempt at induced conversation, mother/whoever, I checked your argument with the reality of narcissistic abuse.

So long as a person’s relationships with others, so long as a person’s life is being held hostage, swallowed up and consumed by, so long as you are using your target’s support network against them, to collapse on them, to be the antithesis of solid ground, to gaslight... but simply, so long as you are holding his relationships with others, with everyone ever, hostage, then good luck on your little sonny boy [Seth in this induced conversation] extricating himself from his “toxic” relationship with high probabilities of success.

Speaking for myself- reputation, regard of others, friendships, just the whole of a life, those people’s opinions are only part of the equation. Pleasing, pleasing the world on whole, not being hated, not being an object of wrath, that’s only part of the equation for the codependent. Only part. The codependent and the narcissist have the same wound after all, it’s just that the narcissist has it so much worse. That’s why in cold empathy (in other words understanding but not feeling the effects) the narcissistic person is so damned good at punching their target’s/love object’s buttons.

The regard of anyone else, the desire to not be hated or rejected, that’s only one part of the equation for the codependent.

The poorly named “codependent” or in other cases “empath” is responding to the suffering (real or false suffering) of their narcissistic partner. The “poor me”s and anger and frustration but especially her perceived pain, --the idea of abandoning her is more than he can stand.

Even with “better sense” to override everything his heart is telling him, if he can’t shut the door on--can’t immunize himself to--what she herself is feeling and thinking about all of this and about him, -if he can’t shut the door on her pain, and he won’t likely be able to, because he’s already self-deprecating to a fault, already taking the world on his shoulders, already feeling responsible for thigns that are not his to own, already such a damned good beast of burden, -if he can’t shut the door on “the suffering girl” which he sees through the lens of the faith he has in her, of what he projects onto her, of what may or may not really be there but has so much to do with what’s already inside of him,

--if he can’t shut the door on that inner voice of guilt, true genuine guilt, true genuine bleeding for the person he believes in this part of himself, this feeling illogical irrational part of himself, true bleeding for this person he’s letting fall, letting down... he’s causing the pain as far as he’s concerned. He’s everything wrong with the world as far as he’s concerned. Even if everyone else is making him feel that way, he already feels that way.

Between the inside and the out, CRUSHED. Flattened. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t, desperation increasing, desperation, hopelessness, a double-bind. Melting heart and mind. A blurring between the real and the perceived--the felt. “Heart cooks brain”.

In the face of narcissistic abuse, this person will fail and fail and fail and fail and fail... to get away. If we’re talking about the same person here, cause I don’t regard Seth in this way, obviously. But this was your induced conversation. If he’s a stand-in for me and my “crimes” of not being able to walk away all those years ago, then I check your argument with the realities of narcissistic abuse.

Now, I’ve elaborated on just why such a person would be so susceptible. Not everyone can be trapped by, can be controlled by, can be manipulated by this person. It takes a special kind of someone, lacking certain resources of self, to fall prey to “this” kind of thing.

...But the present, “this” here right now is something else, something for which no amount of guidance or me altering myself or my course can fix. At the point of criminality, at the point that it’s come “this” far, the last thing the victim or target needs to be telling themselves is how if only they were more this or less that or did this or did that. The last thing the victim of harassment and stalking is supposed to be doing is blaming themselves for it happening to them.

It’s not on me to make “this” stop.

It isn’t my fault that it’s happening, and its perpetuation happens with or without me. 

The real story ended 7+ years ago ...but you had other plans. And here we are. Tell me again, that I just need to do or be more this and less that and it will go away. Tell me again, that being stalked beyond stalking, beyond harassment, beyond abuse, is my fault or my responsibility to own.

Tell me again that what’s happening to me rests on me. The part I played in “this” thing’s perpetuation was resolved 7+ years ago. “This” escalation in response to my ability to shut the door on you and keep it shut, isn’t my responsibility and I’ve done more than enough to end it however fruitlessly for the last several years.

This next step for me is my last... if this doesn’t work, then I don’t know what. If I fail this time to create space, to create separation, if after everything I’ve done to extricate myself from your reach has failed, and even after choosing a life totally devoid of all means of access to me, you still break in... I thought “air-gapped” and lacking all wireless components would be enough to shut the door on you. This next step, internal power source, not tied to any grid, removed from everything out and away in the wilderness, if this doesn’t shut the door on you, then I don’t know what will. I know it’s physically impossible at this point, unless you’re using some frequency beyond the range of my scanner to move data in and out. I know it’s physically impossible now. You’d have to follow me out there, and you’d have to do it without a hardline. They make jammers. That could be a next step, but my point is, I’m running out of things to try, psycho stalker.

I can’t live “this” way.

If I succeed, and this lifestyle becomes sustainable for me, you know I’m never coming back, mother. The greatest harm lies with you for the part you’ve played in “this”. You should have been the last person on earth, to ever do these things to me. But, if you haven’t shown me what you’re really made of through all of “this”.

I can’t live “this” way.

Edit: What’s more, as though I even needed to spell it out, gaslighting and it’s associated denial of reality is said to be the most destructive form of emotional abuse. But you’re not just denying reality and having your way with me, you’re stalking, you’re stalking and manipulating and toying with, and you’re using others to help you. Gaslighting and flying monkeys the primary weapons of narcissistic abuse--of the narcissist. By your actions I name you, by your actions. Not by your “reasons” as you bend and twist and distort and manipulate and masterfully manage your image in the eyes of those you conscript/absorb, but by your actions and your dismissal of the consequences to me and the trampling of my boundaries.

By your actions I name you. You name yourself by your actions. It’s that simple.

Edit: Even if you are possibly delusional over your reflection (the grandiose version is quite blind, has blinded themselves) you’re not stupid.

You’re simply doing what nets you the biggest reaction. If that means playing saint and forcing your “grace” onto me seemingly deaf to everything I couldn’t spell out any clearer if I tried, then that’s what you’ll do. It also affords you an opportunity to reframe yourself in contrast to me. If I get pushy or aggravated by your assaults, you will take any of what you can to the bank as though I had no right to be angry with you or any of “this”. You will take that to the bank as some kind of proof of what’s wrong with me, cause you are after all, such a saint. Who could deny you? I mean you’re just “helping” after all, what the hell is wrong with this guy?

And on and on it goes.

[phanarchy-blog]

The Flame That Burns Me - Ch. 4

Genre/Rating: Angst, Drama, Rated T.

Words: 2.2k

Fic Teaser: Dan and Phil are not together. Really, they aren’t, despite what Dan wants. So then why is everything put at risk when Dan gets together with a fan? Everything is about to change for them, in a way they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Dan has learned that Bethany, long time fan and his one-night-stand, is pregnant. He knows where he stands with her, but where does this leave him and Phil?

Whole Fic Warnings (all may not apply to this chapter): Swearing, aggression, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, sensual scenes (no smut)

Start from the beginning!

Dan wandered into the flat at half past ten at night. The lounge was dim, lit by a single scented candle, moonlight, and the screen off Phil’s laptop shining back at his somber face. Dan shut the door behind him, turning the handle to check its security.

He nearly tip-toed into the room, unsure where to begin with Phil.

Phil had been so odd lately, Dan realized. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but there had been a growing distance between him and his best friend that tore him up inside.

With significant effort to seem casual, Dan plopped onto the sofa next to Phil. He could see the conflict flash behind his eyes, whether to look at him or maintain glued to his screen. The latter won out.

Dan sighed deeply. Yes, Phil was royally pissing him off, but Dan was sick of the fighting. He just wanted this to be over with. He loved Phil. In every possible way, and despite everything they’ve been through as of late, he loved Phil. And he just wanted to make everything okay again.

“So,” he began. “Do you want to know how it went?”

He waited for a response. Phil stopped scrolling, but didn’t look up to meet his gaze.

“I suppose you have to learn sooner or later. In the interest of getting, whatever this is,” he gestured between them, “over with as soon as possible, I’ll just tell you. Bethany is pregnant. It’s mine. She’s keeping the baby. I’m going to be as involved as I can be.”

Dan spoke with a tone of finality, as he figured that is what set Phil off.

“I bet she’s playing you,” Phil said, monotoned.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He tried to keep his voice in check, despite his use of language.

“It means I think she’s lying. You said she recognized you, yeah?” Phil looked up at him for the first time all night. “She probably knows this is the only way to get you to stick around.”

“Phil, what the hell? Since when have you been the type of guy to accuse women of lying about this stuff?” By now, the edge of Dan’s voice was beginning to crack, the overwhelm of the day weighing down on him. Home should be where that weight lifts, and Phil has always been the one to help him lift it. It isn’t like that anymore.

“I’m just looking out for you, mate. And I don’t trust her,” Phil said.

“Trust her?” Dan scoffed. “You don’t know her like I do.”

“You mean I didn’t chat with her for five minutes, have sex, then not speak to her for weeks? You’re right, I don’t know her like you do.”

Dan stood up off the sofa now, the tension in his body rising, and he found himself in need of shifting the dynamic of power between them. He had to be above Phil.

“Watch what you say, Phil!” He shouted. “This could be the mother of my child!”

Phil kept himself planted right where he was, two fingers falling back on his track pad and continuing to scroll. He laughed under his breath.

“Could be,” he said. A reminder of the uncertainty even in Dan’s choice of phrasing.

Dan had enough. He paced the room one more time, and put his hands on his hips. He looked over at Phil, who kept his eyes trained to Twitter in front of him. He refused to even look at Dan now.

“What’s your problem anyway, man? This isn’t you,” Dan said, shaking his head.

“My problem? Right now, I think you’re my problem! Going around and sleeping with random girls and screwing up everything!”

In all his life, Dan had never felt more alone. Not when he left for college, not before when all his friends liked other people more than him. It was now. He was scared, confused, and unsure of himself. He needed Phil now more than ever, but it seemed that every word out of his mouth only pushed him further away.

Dan could feel his anger simmering into something else. Tears threatened the corners of his eyes and he blinked them back. He sniffed hard to keep his nose from dripping.

All at once, Dan realized he hadn’t cried yet. Not since he came home after his first fight with Phil, after how desperately he hoped to keep it all a secret from him. Now there was no turning back. He could never undo this fault he created between them. 

The room was spinning. Dan realized how his breath was coming in jagged and pained. It burned at the back of his throat. Around the sides of his vision, a haze of blue circled and began closing in. He fell to his knees.

Phil only looked up from his lap top when he heard kneecaps crack against the hardwood. “Dan?”

No amount of blinking could keep Dan from crying now. He regret it already, letting it all go in front of Phil. He wished he could have made it to his own room, held on to the anger a little longer. Now that it had begun, much like opening floodgates, he couldn’t control himself.

Phil brushed the laptop off his legs swiftly. He could see the red of Dan’s face, regardless of how he tried to hide it behind his hands. He raced across the room to meet Dan there on the floor. Phil pulled him in close to his chest.

He couldn’t bear to see Dan cry.

“I didn’t mean it,” he said. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry.” Phil was damn near petting Dan’s head, flattening the curls into a lumpy mess.

“I’m so fucked, Phil.” Dan wiped his sleeve across his upper lip. “And you, I couldn’t. You just,” he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I’ve been selfish, I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Phil felt a tear stain down his cheek as well. He watched as it fell into Dan’s curls, dripping through like a meandering river until it soaked in.

“It’s just that,” he started. “I know it’s worse for you. I do. But I’ve been so worried for me too. What am I gonna do without you?” Phil cried.

“What do you mean?” Dan asked, gaining his composure. “I’m right here.”

“Yeah, but for how long? You’re gonna have a family, Dan. And you’re gonna leave me. I can’t stand that!”

Phil hadn’t considered it until that moment. He could feel the wall he had been building tumble and crash around the two of them on the floor.

Dan chuckled dimly, his breath had slowed enough to see the humor in what had crossed his mind.

“We’re not lovers,” he said, repeating Phil’s words from a few weeks prior. “So let’s not fight like we are.”

He waited for Phil to laugh. He hoped that it would be a classic Dan thing to say, and it would brighten the mood just a bit. Time passed and Phil had yet to say a word. Dan turned his head to see Phil’s face, twisted up with nerves.

“Maybe we should be,” he said finally. Phil traced his hand down Dan’s arm, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Phil?”

Dan looked up into his eyes, reflecting his genuine intent. But he was wavering, his pupils flicking back and forth quickly to avoid Dan’s gaze. He could see the fear run across his eyes, the inability to step back off the ledge. It was the moment in cartoons between when the animal realizes they’ve walked off a cliff and just before they begin to fall.

Dan’s chest tightened once again, not in anguish but an anxious excitement that comes right before doing something bold.

He sat upright and turned to face Phil, lifting his hand to fit over the slope of his jaw tenderly. Phil looked him in the eye then, and when Dan leaned in close to him, he met his kiss.

It was slow, and uncertain. Dan brushed his lips gently over Phil’s, testing the water, unable to dive. He pulled back almost imperceptibly, just enough that their lips were no longer pressed together and Phil could feel his breath, warm and heavy.

Phil closed the distance and their noses bumped together. He was insistent, needy.

Phil realized how his heart was beating faster and he raised his hand to graze against the prickly hair on the back of Dan’s head. He opened his mouth and ran his fingers down to curl at the back of Dan’s neck as Dan took the opportunity to slip past his lips.

Dan grabbed Phil by the shoulder, twisting around and pushing him down to the floor, hovering above him as they made out.

“Is this okay?” Phil whispered as he broke the kiss off. “Are you sure about this?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” Dan responded urgently. He slid his hand from Phil’s shoulder, down his chest and across his abdomen. He worked his hand underneath his shirt and gripped him on the hip, keeping him where he wanted him as Phil lifted his head to meet Dan’s mouth once again.

Phil woke first, his bleary eyes blinking in the dim light of the early morning. His arm tingled, numb. He followed his awareness from the tips of his fingers, to the weight of Dan’s head on his bicep, and the warmth of his skin against his bare chest. He shifted slightly and the luxurious faux fur blanket skimmed against his body from his shoulder to his knees, leaving his feet frozen.

He shimmied as best he could, trying to escape the sofa without waking Dan. He stumbled as his leg got caught in the blanket and ripped completely off Dan’s naked body. He stirred at the heavy thump of Phil’s heel on the hardwood floor.

“Phil?” he asked, rubbing his eye with the pad of his hand. Phil turned back to him and leaned down.

“I’m just going to make some coffee and get some clothes for us,” he whispered. “I’ll be right back.” He leaned in closer to peck Dan gently on the forehead, his lips getting caught by the curls falling across his face.

Dan smiled softly. He reached for the blanket, but Phil grabbed it away from him and laid it across Dan’s body before he turned and walked away.

Dan took a moment to remember the night before. All the details of the night. In his absence, Dan thought of the cool expanse of Phil’s skin against his. He could still feel the tickle of Phil’s lashes against his cheek, and the way their hands knotted together when they needed something to hold onto. What he remembered most was the overwhelming sense of security he felt in Phil’s arms the night prior, which he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

Phil returned in emoji pajama bottoms and a grey pocket tee. He carried Dan’s joggers and a hoodie folded over one forearm, and carefully set a flooded mug one the side table. He sipped from his own before sitting next to Dan, offering the clothes, and fixating his gaze on the swirling liquid.

Dan giggled underneath his breath. Even before they had sex, being naked around each other wasn’t the end of the world. Somehow, the fact that Phil tried to protect whatever modesty Dan may keep only endeared him more in Dan’s eyes. He slid the joggers on and fought until the hoodie cooperated with him. He grabbed his coffee off the table and blew on it gently, taking a slow drink, perfect.

“I’ll go first if you don’t want to,” Phil said, causing Dan to snort a bit of his coffee. Phil cracked a smile despite the atmosphere.

“Go for it,” Dan said, setting his mug aside and turning to his friend.

Phil hesitated. He hadn’t expected this to be so easy, which made the rest difficult.

“I guess, I’ll start by apologizing, because from the start of this I know I played a role, and I’ve been putting all the blame on you, and,” he was beginning to ramble. He glanced up to Dan’s eyes. “And I said some really crappy things when you had enough of a burden already. I wasn’t helpful, and I was a bad friend.”

“Phil you already apologized for that,” Dan started.

“And-” Phil continued, despite Dan’s interruption, “it’s all been because I like you. I didn’t know that then, but I know that now. I can’t walk away from this without telling you that-” he stopped.

Phil sighed and looked for the answers in the bottom of his coffee. It was the first time it ever betrayed him.

“Without telling me what, Phil?” Dan asked. He waited. He tried to give him the time to find the words. He tried to be patient. Dan was not a patient person.

“Tell me what? Come on, it can’t be that bad,” he encouraged.

“I want to be with you, Dan.”

“I want that too.” He leaned to the side until his head rested on Phil’s shoulder. Phil dropped his head until he felt Dan’s tangled mop of hair against his cheek. They sat like this, soaking in each other’s presence, until the sun rose above the horizon and the golden light washed over their faces.

Thank you to everyone reading this! I appreciate everyone’s support for the previous chapters The end here is a bit cheesy to me, what do you think? Criticism strongly welcomed! Continue onto Ch. 5!

[spam-monster]

An Awkward Ride - Helsa Week.

4 Horsin’ Around: or an Awkward Ride

(Inspired by a few other fics from different fandoms with similar premises. Sorry about this Sitron, but it was too funny to pass up. Warning: a bit nsfw.)

 It should have just been a simple trip up into the mountains.

Kristoph’s troll family had invited him to come witness some sort of mystical ceremony or other; Hans wasn’t really sure on the details. The royal sisters were invited as well, along with Olaf.

Hans hadn’t technically been invited (the trolls still didn’t like him very much after all, even if they had softened up to him a bit after he had semi-jokingly told them that he was only a jerk because his family never loved him) but the group had insisted he come along anyway; whether it was because they were trying to get him to open up to them more by including him in their activities or because they didn’t trust him enough to leave him alone in the castle yet he wasn’t sure. (Anna and the rational part of him claimed it was the latter. His heart insisted it was the former.)

Either way, Hans had ended up accompanying them, riding alongside the sleigh on Sitron since there apparently wasn’t enough room in there for four people plus a snowman plus most of the supplies they needed for an overnight trip. He suspected the ice harvester and the princess just didn’t want to flat out admit they didn’t feel comfortable enough with him yet to have him squished up next to them for half a day. He didn’t mind though. It had been a while since he had been able to take Sitron out for a long ride like this.

Sitron had seemed excited as well.

(He would end up regretting that.)

***

They might have been able to handle wolves.

They might have been able to handle an oncoming blizzard.

The combination of both was a bit too much.

In the ensuing chaos, Elsa had jumped off the sleigh to try and fight back. Hans had gone after her on Sitron. And now they were on the other side of a ravine.

“Elsa!” Anna yelled from the other side as she pulled Olaf away from another hungry wolf.

“I’ll be okay! You and Kristoph get to the trolls! We’ll meet up with you tomorrow!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, now go!”

The storm was getting worse and there wasn’t time to argue, so they had gone on and Hans had pulled Elsa up onto the horse in front of him and they raced off in the other direction until they had lost the last of the wolves.

Unfortunately, Hans had gotten lost as well.

He wasn’t yet familiar enough with the mountains to be able to get his bearings here, and the snow certainly didn’t help. “Can’t you do something about this?” he asked the snow queen. “I can’t tell where anything is in this storm.”

“Just because I can create snowstorms doesn’t mean I can control natural ones.” Elsa replied, scanning the area. “I can try to hold it back for a bit, but trying to stop it altogether will just make it worse when I let go.” She pointed. “There. The North Mountain is that way. We can go to my ice castle and wait out the blizzard there.”

Hans obeyed, steering Sitron in the direction she had pointed. But the snow had made the path nearly impossible to follow for someone who didn’t know where they were going, and Elsa got fed up with him.

“Stop.” She sighed. “Hand me the reins. I can get us there faster.”

“What?” Hans asked, but she was already readjusting herself. She had been riding side-saddle, but before Hans could protest she had swung her leg over and mounted Sitron properly, motioning for him to hand off the reins.

The problem was, she was still wearing her favorite form-fitting ice dress, and to get her legs on either side of the horse she had had to magically extend the slit up her leg until she had enough room to maneuver. And Hans was suddenly very aware that his arms were around her, that her back was almost pressed up against his front, and that the adrenaline rush he had gotten from outrunning wolves hadn’t quite worn off yet and his body had started translating that energy into something else.

Thank god he was wearing a thick coat.

“Reins, Hans.” Elsa snapped at him. He handed them over dumbly.

And they were off.

***

He had tried not to touch her at first, to calm himself down, but Elsa had spurred Sitron into a quick trot in an attempt to outrun the blizzard and after the third time he almost fell off she was fed up.

“Just hold on to me.” She said. “It’s fine. We need to get going.”

“Don’t tell your sister.” He joked as he put his arms around her and tried desperately to will his heart to stop racing and his…other body parts to stop being so interested in the proceedings.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. While he knew some people got a strange…thrill out of riding horses, he had never had such feelings about the way the saddle rubbed him or the movement of the animal underneath him before.

Elsa leaned back a bit, her body pressed up against his.

Okay, scratch that. He knew exactly what was wrong with him.

He was aware of his growing attraction to the queen, but he had always brushed it off as simple appreciation of physical beauty, or his “lust” for power, or because she had been the most willing to put up with him out of everyone in the kingdom so far. There was no use dwelling on it anyway, since even if he did end up genuinely attracted to her somehow, any attempts at courting on his part would be taken as another bid for Arendelle’s throne.

But now, with no one else around and her so willingly close to him, his traitorous body refused to listen to his excuses any longer.

He could no longer deny it. He was aroused by her, by her body and her scent and her intellegence and her kindness; and with every passing moment his body grew hotter.

No, he thought firmly, I am not going to lose control of myself like this.

They rode over a bump. His body jostled in the seat. His hand brushed her uncovered thigh, and if he hadn’t been wearing his usual gloves he would have felt her skin.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

“Are you alright?”

He startled. She was glancing at him strangly.

“Your breathing is heavy, and your face is still flushed. Are you hurt?”

“I’mfine!” he blurted out embarassedly. “Just,” he tried to smile and shrug it off.”Just still kinda worked up…over the wolves and all…are we almost there yet?”

Sitron was looking at him strangly too now, before turning his attention back to the path. Damn it. He felt even more guilty now.

“It’s probably about another twenty minutes or so. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be fine, your highness. I can…deal with this when we get there.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she turned back around and kept going.

He could hold out for that long, right? He just had to make sure she didn’t…feel anything strange behind her and that he got some alone time as soon as they were safely inside the ice palace.

He gritted his teeth as he was jostled against the saddle again. He could do this.

Minutes passed. He tried to keep his breathing even. His body still refused to calm itself.

And then as Sitron jumped up the uneven path, his coat was thrown open just enough that it couldn’t protect him anymore and before he could reajust himself Elsa’s bottom slid against the front of his too-tight breeches.

She froze.

Damn it.

“…Hans?” she asked thickly. “…is that a knife in your pocket?”

And wasn’t it strange that she would have probably been more relieved if it was.

“…It’s nothing.”

“Hans.”

“It’s nothing.” He repeated firmly. “It’s nothing, and we are not going to talk about it, and the storm is getting worse and we need to go. Now.”

Sitron had stopped entirely, worried by the tone in their voices. The storm raged on. They didn’t have time for this.

“Just go. Please.”

She urged Sitron on. Hans’ breathing grew harder.

“…Why are you…?”

He made a noncommital noise. “Adrenaline. From the fight.”

“That was almost an hour ago.”

He shrugged. Adjusted his coat again.

They kept on.

“…I…erm…I thought…”

“What.” He snapped, tense. Hearing her voice wasn’t helping his condition any. In fact, his body had become even more heated at the thought that she knew what was going on behind her now and hadn’t freaked out enough to throw him off the horse and leave him to freeze to death or anything.

Stop mistaking politeness for interest he told it.

“I thought…I’ve heard that the cold normally…you know…discourages…that type of…” She seemed at a loss for words.

It was very cold out now. Years ago he would have been “discouraged” by that. But that was before a certain ice queen had began creeping into his most private fantasies, and now the icy wind whipping past his body felt too much like what her hands might feel like on his skin.

“The cold didn’t use to bother me like this, you know.” He grumbled, too frustrated to censor himself at this point. “Who’s fault is that?”

He was shaking now. Losing control. Minutes away from just grinding himself into the saddle, dignity be damned. He was so goddamn close.

“What!” she yelped in shock. She had figured out his dirty secrets. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Just…I’d rather not…” Another bump in the road threw him. “I’m trying not t-to…” She had pulled away from him a bit, but there was only so far she could go, and he was trying to respect that and not make this any more awkward for any of them…

She turned to look at him again. He closed his eyes and tried to control himself, his breathing even more harsh. The thought that she was perilously close to watching him reach climax should have filled him with shame, not excite him even more.

Sitron sped up, not entirely understanding what was going on with his master and his mistress but figuring out that they really needed to get to the palace now.

“Oh! We’re almost there!”

Hans relaxed for a second upon hearing those words. Unfortunately, at that moment the combination of her voice plus Sitron’s galloping plus the wind swirling past them in just the right way proved to be his undoing.

He gasped, for a moment all he knew was hot and white and her and yes.

And then he came to and found them both staring at him again in shock.

Fuck.

Sitron made an offended noise.

“You...you try riding a long way with a really attractive mare rubbing up against you the whole time and see how well you do!” he yelled at him, annoyed.

Elsa made a face at that.

“Just…” he sighed and gestured at the palace looming above them. “Just go.”

***

They make it the rest of the way just before the storm fully hits, Elsa using her powers to bring Sitron up the stairs with them so he isn’t left out in the cold.

Hans dismounts awkwardly. He helps Elsa down without thinking about it. The fact that she hasn’t thrown him over the side of the mountain after he came in his goddamned pants right behind her probably means something, but he’s too exhausted to analyze it right now.

Inside Elsa busies herself with greeting Marshmallow (he still can’t believe the giant beast that almost killed him and his men is named Marshmallow of all things) and the snowgies, and setting up camp for the night. Hans grabs towels and a change of clothing.

“I’m going upstairs.” He announces hurriedly, running up the steps two at a time in his haste to get to the bedroom.

As he’s cleaning up and changing and wondering where he went wrong with his life, there’s a knock on the door. Of course she wants to talk about this. Making sure he’s decent, he calls through the door. “I don’t suppose we can just pretend this never happened?”

He hears her sign and lean against the door. “I…It’s not something I’m going to forget anytime soon.”

“Was it good for you too?” he mutters before he can stop himself.

She laughs at that. “I, uh…not really? I mean you were the only one that ended up satisfied with…that…” she says in a half-teasing, half-completely awkward kind of way.

“I’ll…try to be more generous next time.” Oh god he has no idea what he’s saying or if she’s actually seriously flirting with him right now, but he’s smiling like an idiot anyway. “And maybe…not on a horse. Next time. Either. I think I’ve traumatized poor Sitron enough for one night.”

They’re both giggling helplessly now, the absurdity of the whole thing sinking in.

“Right.” She laughs. (She has a really cute laugh.) “I can’t believe you actually…”

“Yeah…me neither…”

“Did you mean it? About the…cold…”

“I…” he sighs. No point in hiding it anymore. “…Yeah. I do.”

They both fall silent.

“…I should go…check on the…”

“Yeah. I’ll be down in a minute.”

He hears her walk away. I guess we’re done talking about it for tonight. That’s…not bad though. I think we both need time to process this.

He gathers his things and comes back down. Elsa has laid some blankets on the floor for him and Sitron, and is tending a small fire. Hans almost goes to offer her a blanket before he reminds himself for the thousandth time that she doesn’t get cold and is perfectly fine wearing a thin dress in the middle of an ice castle.

Sitron grunts at him.

“Yes yes, alright, I’m sorry buddy.” He walks over to his old friend, who glares at him again before relenting and headbutting him affectionately in a way that means “I’m still annoyed, but I will forgive you because you are my dumb human and I still love you, but I demand lots of treats for putting up with this.”

He may not give Sitron a voice like the ice harvester does with his steed, but that doesn’t mean he can’t understand what he’s saying.

He digs out a few apples from his bags and offers them to the horse, who snaps them up greedily before settling on the floor. Hans leans against him and throws a blanket on, making himself comfortable for the night.

“Hans?”

He peeks up at her. “Yes?”

“You do realize we’re going to have to ride back down together in the morning, right?”

…oh no.

***

(This bs was inspired by this Cable/Deadpool fic from a Marvel kink meme and this Phoenix/Edgeworth fic from AO3, both of which feature sexy horseback shenanigans. I have no idea how I managed to find two fics like this, let alone write another, but there you go.

Again, I’m sorry Sitron.)  

[casualarsonist]

Disenchantment: Season 1

Matt Groening is an Ideas Man. Life in Hell, The Simpsons, Futurama, it’s not often that a single creative becomes the voice of more than one generation. And yet, his TV shows, at the height of their respective successes, were not identifiable by Groening’s direct influence so much as they were their fantastic team of writers. At their apex, Groening’s greatest successes were far bigger than Groening himself, and while he was adept at dreaming up the conceit and the characters of the worlds he created, it was on the back of the efforts of a fantastic writing team that his shows flourished. So while Groening’s typically warped and cynical worldview held his comic strip in good stead, his short-form, frame-by-frame method of joke-telling lacks the subtlety and nuance that a good story-writer can use to build to a punchline, or to thread its characters into the weave of its plot rather than just having them stick their heads through a door and utter a joke because it’s been five minutes and the egg-timer sitting by his computer has gone off. In saying that, his contribution here is in co-operation with one of The Simpson’s most acclaimed writers - Josh Weinstein - so I don’t really know where to start in trying to figure out exactly what happened in the production of Disenchantment to start it off on such a bad footing.

Disenchantment is a ‘Netflix Original’ - a brand I can’t help but instinctively flinch at the mere mention of. To be fair to Netflix, not all its releases under that title are trash - some are even straight-up excellent - but there are literally hundreds of Netflix Originals released all over the world, and when you have the money and ambition that Netflix has (or had) there’s going to be an inevitable temptation to throw shit at the wall and see what sticks. After all, Netflix is the bastion of those willing to settle for cheap thrills, rom coms, and anything that will drown out the deafening sound of existential dread reverberating around the inside of their skulls. Not the most discerning audience, is what I’m saying. And to be fair to Disenchantment, Groening’s writing only appears credited in the first episode (even though the symptoms of that writing appear throughout to various degrees throughout the series). But when you’ve only got ten episodes to make your mark, and your appeal is in part trading on the pedigree of a back-catalogue of seminal shows such as The Simpsons and Futurama, the bar you’ve got to leap is going to be higher than usual. Which is why it’s so baffling that the opening episodes of Disenchantment are just. so. bad.

Full disclosure - I barely got half way through the first episode before I gave up with a groan and a roll of the eyes and turned it off. I even called it ‘Disenchanted’ seven times in this review before I realised I was getting the title wrong. Perhaps I was projecting. The only reason I watched the rest of the series was so I could write this review in good faith. Characters bounce from scenario to scenario in a chaotic, everything-but-the-kitchen-sink fantasy world. The narrative almost invariably plays out in a ‘this happened, and then this happened, and then THIS happened’ format. Mediocre visual gags and one-liners are shoehorned into scenes with no care at to how relevant they are, or how they affect the pacing. Everything is overstated, lacking the finesse that the best episodes of The Simpsons or Futurama used to let their humour and emotion sneak up on the viewer and take them by surprise. It lacks the endearing characters, the contained and engaging storylines, and the genuine social commentary that both of its predecessors had.  And on top of all this the animation is really, really cheap, meaning that my first impression was that it was as amateurish in its visuals as it was in its script.

Growing pains can be a passing thing. The first season of the American Office was mostly trash, as was that of Parks and Rec, as were the first few seasons of The Simpsons, and while the entry point into Disenchantment reeks like a teenager’s bedroom, with time and distance from the first episode it does open up in two something more engaging. But that doesn’t absolve it of its sins, as the budgetary and temporal constraints of the ‘Netflix Original’ title have clearly failed to let this series grow large enough to support the wide creative team it needs to even entertain thoughts of approaching its predecessor’s quality. Everything about Disenchantment feels impermanent compared to its predecessors - from the meandering and indefinable conceit, to the clutch of thinly-written characters, to the cheap, badly-written, throwaway jokes…it all feels like it wasn’t made to last beyond the initial ten episodes. It feels like a draft copy.

Which is a real shame, because Disenchantment is a vehicle for an excellent cadre of modern comedians and performers who simply haven’t got much to work with. Abbi Jacobson and Eric Andre both came from better, more ground-breaking shows to play far-less interesting characters. ‘He’s a demon, BUT HE’S KINDA CUTE!’; ‘she’s a princess, BUT SHE’S ALSO A ROUGH-AND-TUMBLE REBEL!’ The best a character can hope to be in this series is a thing that is also another thing, otherwise, they’re Kissy, the promiscuous elf. Or Weirdo, the sex pest elf. Or Shocko, the elf that expresses shock, and is legitimately the only joke I laughed at in the first episode by virtue of the fact that it was just so dumb. Below even that rung lay the characters that exist only as vessels for shitty end-of-scene one-liners, like the guy who walks through the door after the King has threatened to decapitate anyone who looks at his daughter, saying ‘oh boy, did I look at HER!’ Ugh.

And when the jokes aren’t content to simply be bad, they straight-up don’t make sense - a perfect example of this being when the princess’ betrothed accidentally impales his head on a sword.

Let’s break it down:

- A prince drops the ring during his wedding ceremony, and when bending to pick it up accidentally impales his head on a sword. The joke being that a character is suddenly killed in an unexpected way. This is mildly amusing.

- A member of the court declares him dead. To which the prince replies with the garbled mess of a line: 'Ah, I think I’m alive. No, wait, never mind.’ He then slumps down dead. Aside from not being as funny as the first joke, in showing the price to be alive it undoes the punchline of the first joke. ‘Prince has an accident and lives’ is not funny. ‘Prince has an accident, seems to live, but doesn’t’ is also not funny.

- Finally, after two increasingly poor gags that both rely on the prince’s death to even be considered jokes at all, the scene moves on for around a minute before the prince opines the fact that no-one is helping him. Not only does this YET AGAIN render the two previous jokes moot (’Visibly alive man turns out to be alive’), it just plain doesn’t make any sense. The joke was that he died. Twice. Why would anyone be expected to help him? Did they forget to take this out of the script? Or did they just forsake consistency and the internal logic of their show so they could cram as many shit gags in as possible?

In two minutes we have three crappy bits that are all essentially the same joke, each one simultaneously worse than the last AND retroactively rendering the jokes before it less funny. To be honest, I’m kind of impressed. It’s almost the perfect, literal, anti-comedy. And it’s the norm, rather than the exception, for the first few episodes at least. Any time the show starts to get any steam up and you allow yourself to be invested, some kind of desperate, tone-deaf non sequitur swings in and ruins your mood. The best jokes in the series are either less-painful versions of this, or the occasional rare gem that is both unexpected AND YET makes sense for the scene. When the king laments that he can’t possibly lose anything else, and then his crown slips off his head and plunges over the railing of his tower, THAT’S funny. In the moment, I laughed out loud. And it’s not even that spectacular a joke. But it’s sadly among the best that Disenchantment can offer.  

I’ve got a real bone to pick with Netflix’s ‘Originals’. If you ever held hope that one day down the track the channel’s trashheap would be thinned out, or somehow transformed by the platform’s success, then one five-minute wade through the collection will convince you that this is a pipe-dream. It’s an endless sea of low-budget, thrown-together mediocrity that seriously suggests the person greenlighting these things needs to have their rubber stamp confiscated. Disenchantment grows on you, and by episode ten you might even find yourself a little bit invested. But big picture, the series is just another idea flung at a wall and failing to stick. The potential is there, I suppose, and I can only hope that the upwards momentum carries over to the newly-commissioned second season, but the low quality animation and poor execution just pulls the rug out from under it. Groening’s style is best suited to self-contained episodes that allow the writers to condense the humour; a ten-episode arc with a flimsy plot is not fertile ground for a style of show that needs time to find its feet and settle into the premise and the characters. And while it might amuse you if you hang around long enough, I don’t really feel like awarding points to a show for being kind of worth it eventually. Disenchantment simply doesn’t hold a candle to the best of Groening’s works.

5/10

[shepgeek]

Infinity Chore

Warning- FULL SPOILERS

 “And when Alexander saw the breadth of his domain,

he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer."

 I really should know more about Alexander the Great, given his name is both my middle name and also my Son’s first name. I know he was a warrior, who, in certainty of his own righteousness, killed lots of people and I wonder if the film makers held him in mind for their main character here? That quotation seemed an apt place to begin reflecting on Infinity War, since the main takeaway from a first viewing will surely be that final unexpected revelation that Thanos is, in fact, the hero of this piece. Indeed the very final promise that “Thanos will return” was probably my favourite moment in the film, staying true to its convictions right till the death. I saw this film on its opening weekend at a sold out IMAX screening where hundreds of residents of Britain’s second biggest city gathered to create a pre-screening atmosphere of almost tangible excitement. Upon leaving, however, I experienced a genuinely remarkable mood that was unlike any other I have ever felt before. One boy in his early teens was incredulous when talking to his Mother, sounding confused by his assumption prior to the film that this was meant to be the “last one”. Another lad (aged about 6, so why he was there was anybody’s guess) responded to his Father stating that the story “clearly wasn’t finished” replied simply with: “yes it was, Thanos won.” The Dad then went on to say “well obviously there will be another” before moving beyond my hearing, but I think this boy understood the film perfectly and just as Kevin Feige intended. Indeed when I look again at the Alexander quotation, it puts me more in mind of Feige- Marvel have stood at the summit of blockbuster cinema for a decade now and have crafted hit after monster hit from material that, when it was famously put up for sale, was not deemed worthy of any interest from the major studios. Their triumph was stupendous, their legacy assured and now, when faced with the problem of having exhausted their own source material, they have hit on this film as their remarkable solution and yet, although such a genuine surprise feels it should be rewarded, the more that time passes since I saw the film, the less I like it.

 Legacy

Why would anyone rewatch this film 10 years from now?

I wonder what its legacy will be, apart from on how spoilers are managed. Upon leaving the cinema I was mightily impressed by the artistic courage to suddenly punch an audience in the balls, but found that hard to reconcile with the feeling of having just been punched in the balls.  This film feels less of a story than an animated flowchart, with a screenplay not unlike a lego manual, sequentially assembling (natch) the characters via increasingly desperate battles but, unlike the first Avengers film (with its witty lightness of foot and themes of family, power and righteousness) there is little broader storytelling afoot. It feels like Marvel knew that the audience demanded of them to make this colossal unification film and, in so losing their ability to control the story, have opted for a conveyor belt of CGI and one liners to culminate in the final mega meta twist. This would work pretty well as a comic, but the lack of both thematic and character development (I struggle to recall anything approaching an arc in anyone except, at a push Gamorrah & Nebula) undermines the emotional impact.

Who would revisit this film then? I’ve always been a fan of Thor, especially in Branagh’s wittily pompous opera which, for my money, was cheaply discarded for goofiness in the flippant and messily indulgent Ragnarok. Here, however, the God of Thunder is used to glue franchises together, veering within minutes from devastated holocaust survivor to pompous wisecracker, and manages only a faded caricature. After having his entire social circle casually terminated earlier in the year, Thor then swiftly loses his best friend (who, bafflingly, chooses to save the Hulk instead) and brother in order to add dramatic weight that is almost immediately squandered when another hero immediately enters stage left. Any Thor fan, therefore, who is looking for a nostalgic blast 10 years from now is not going to seek it here, but would rather turn to any of his other films and, this argument can readily be applied to the entire roster. I also really enjoyed the cinematic debut of Dr Strange, but here he treads water throughout to ultimately act so stupidly and stupendously out or character in order to allow the villain to win, he is either a complete moron or, more likely, is playing a Dumbledoresque long game that, ultimately, will render this entire film moot so, either way, there is no point in coming back to it. Each other character has their finest hour elsewhere in the MCU, so this film, with its dusting of story and character, must stand on its visuals which, whilst stunning, are not significantly more stunning those of other Marvel films. If you’re an Iron Man fan then his better work is in any of his standalones, and Cap gets to have a beard but almost literally nothing else- the stage is so crammed that nobody has space to actually do anything. I loved the sad and strange Banner/Romanov relationship in Age of Ultron but, worse than ignoring it, that core relationship is reduced to a camp “Awkward!” gag, and it even looks like Johansson and Ruffalo never even managed to share a set, never mind a scene. The film simply has no space for the sad, strange or interesting: “Ladies and Genelmen, next up to the plate, put your hands together for Rocket Racoon!” Infinity War does spark when it wrestles two great actors into the same shot, which it only really manages twice. Vision and Scarlet Witch’s vignette in a gorgeously shot (although curiously sparse) Edinburgh comes closest to giving the film a heart, but even actors of this quality need space and the CGI carnage is never far away. There is also joy in Strange & Stark’s bickering (entirely understandable since the film makers know that they are the same bloody character) but then it leads only to that baffling denouement. The film offers us a picnic of dozens upon dozens of insubstantial slices of fun, but there is always are more nourishment to be found in any of their previous works. As I run through the metaphors, this film is thus reduced a queue: 150 minutes you have to sit through in order to get onto the next ride, an infinity chore.

 Trolling

When our myriad of heroes is reduced to a parade, the villain is then given considerable focus and, whilst the performance is terrific, his master-plan seems to be based on eliminating the perils of overpopulation which, considering space is infinite (and in it there exists a time travel stone which would solve this issue!) the nonsensical choice to kill half the universe completely undermines the pathos that Josh Brolin works so hard to sell. Maybe Thanos’ nihilism is borne of those at Marvel longing to rein in uncharted growth of the MCU which has stretched beyond their own control- perhaps Feige isn’t Alexander the Great but Thanos himself! Regardless, the film adds fuel for a long-held blockbuster bugbear of mine- can we not get some plain evil instead of conjuring increasingly daft motivations for villainy? DC certainly now have a great opportunity now to steal a march and simply portray Darkseid as a gleefully sadistic arsehole. On DC, it is saddening to read stories about “fans” who troll Marvel, howling about conspiracies and I am worried about adding fuel to so paranoid a fire, but I simply cannot get past the fact that I much preferred Justice League to Infinity War. In that flawed film, the clear failures can at least be (mostly) compartmentalised into a weak villain and a wobbly upper lip, but it knew to allow its characters to breathe, to be who they should be and even grow a little. Infinity War allows each of its heroes to simply process across the stage for their mandatory 5 mins of plot-serving quippage to then get hooked from the wings.

Maybe this is just me, as a 41 year old nerd, finally reaching superhero overload. Or has my affection for the career of Joss Whedon and his original Avengers films, coupled with my fanboy credentials firmly planted on the DC side of the divide allowed me to use a downer ending and as a lighting rod to indulge my Marvel frustrations? I have to acknowledge this possibility but, for me, there is little between this film & X-Men Apocalypse- for different reasons, both are overstuffed puddings with little to emotionally hang on to. Infinity War isn’t a bad film, but it is an empty one which left a sour taste in my mouth.

 The End?

That feeling of frustration is what the departing audience at my screening were exuding- weary irritation that we would all have to return a year from now, cash in hand, to sit through the same procession of CGI only now with an actual ending. We now have to wait for everything here to be undone and, once this undoing has happened, there will be even less of a reason to rewatch this film. I feel for the directors, who can certainly bloody make this stuff visually sparkle, but this barely feels like cinema to me- it’s a comic event issue with a surprise downer ending, so ‘Catch next issue to find out what happens next! With added Brie Larson!’ But it is not 4 weeks at the newsagents where we have to wait, and even if this franchise does get the final chapter and character resolutions we hoped for this time out, my sympathy and patience has been basically spent. Cap, Tony & Thor deserve a hearty send off but I can probably live without it, and the ghastly fear of using the Infinity Gauntlet to start everything all over again with a reboot would close the door completely.

As someone who has long complained about not being surprised by Marvel films it is fairly rich for me to ignore that I certainly got a big one this time out, but this film offered nothing new apart from the requirement to come back for the next instalment, which exiting parents were audibly grumbling about. This risks looking like corporate greed, leaving the customer dangerously close to feeling cheated. Once the dust settles, I am sure that those who have flat out loved this film series are likely to find Infinity War thrilling (certainly other reviews seem to back this up) but even they are unlikely to come back to the film repeatedly in the long term. After dozens of hours I simply I no longer care enough about all these characters to feel invested any more. As Marvel have run out of stories to tell and worlds to conquer, they have played their final joker with astonishing courage and gleeful conceit but, once it hits the table, they are left with an audience that is as best exhausted and at worst annoyed. I like the idea of the audacity of this film, but suspect that the decision to have the villain triumph was not borne of courage and creativity but instead came from an exhaustion of originality.

 Coda

As a teacher and a cinephile I spent a few moments in each of my classes last Friday urging any students who love stories to see this film on the opening weekend, to celebrate it with a huge audience and suck up the atmosphere. In my showing I detected a collective flatness midway through the film- the jokes were not landing as heavily as you’d hope and you could feel that everyone was saving their emotional investment for the denouement. The perplexed incredulity as the lights went up, therefore, makes me regret my promotion of the value of a shared cinematic experience to my students via this film and, at a time when cinema is fighting to lodge inside the inboxes of the next generation, I do not think that this film has helped.

One final memory: as a lad I had some friends round for my birthday party and, as a treat, I asked if we could watch the Beastmaster, which we had rented as a family previously and I had loved. We did this for 2 birthdays running but, on the third year, my Dad came back with a different fantasy film (the name escapes me), as the Beastmaster was already booked out on loan. I and my friends sat down to watch this substitute and I remember only 2 things about it. Firstly, it was rubbish, but we seemed to enjoy laughing at it. Secondly, it finished on a pointless cliffhanger with “to be continued” filling the screen as the hero trudged into the horizon. Bollocks to that, we thought, and went outside for a kickabout.

Avengers: Infinity War

5.5

**

[buzzdixonwriter]

Spoilericious Notes On THE LAST JEDI

That’s good… Luke Skywalker, Kylo Ren, and Yoda (hey, I said this would be spoilericious!) are all in agreement that humanity (because humanity represents about 90% of the Star Wars universe; there’s a whole side issue on human privilege that could be explored but we won’t) has grossly misunderstood what The Force is all about, attributing moral / ethical values it lacks (The Force simply…is), and as such creating a huge mess with the whole Jedi / Sith dichotomy and so should be (literally) burned to the ground and something new built from the ashes.

That’s bad… Based on the amount of training Rey goes through to get to avalanche lifting levels of Force mastery, Rocky Balboa would be an omnipotent god if he could just get into the Star Wars universe.  Y’know how in Hong Kong action films and Japanese anime the characters say, “We need special training,” and they spend thirty seconds to a minute in a montage and come out ready to kick Bruce Lee’s ass?  Not as much training as that.

That’s good… For the first time the Star Wars universe acknowledges the dreadful compromise and complexity of any large scale society, in particular how the wealth of the Star Wars universe is generated through arms sales and as such there is absolutely no reason for anyone to stop fighting.

That’s bad… In his climactic showdown with Kylo Ren, Luke Skywalker (dammit, read the title of this post; I said there would be spoilers) promises him and the fans that ”the war is just beginning”.  Question: Are Disney and the filmmakers even aware that they are criticizing their own business model?  I mean, in a certain sense they’re trapped; by the very name Star WARS they are compelled to tell stories about a grandiose interstellar conflict, unlike Star Trek which is just about a long trip that visits distant planets (or at least used to be…).  But this means that despite the title of Episode IV, there is no hope! and the Star Wars universe is condemned to an eternity of horrific conflict and violent death.

That’s good… Everybody has agreed to forget all about that silly midi-chlorian nonsense.

That’s bad… After presenting a consistently godless universe in ten theatrical features, two TV movies, six TV series, and lord knows how many books / comics / games, the concept of God has been dropped into Star Wars (hell as a concept was introduced back in Empire Strikes Back).  I’m absolutely not saying that God has no place in popular entertainment, just that the universe of Star Wars -- both in concept and execution -- consistently portrayed a culture where the very idea of God had never been introduced (but this may be attributable to bad scripting; see below…).

That’s good… Snoke’s throne room is like something out of a 1950s MGM musical, and I mean that in a good sense:  It looks genuinely futuristic and other worldly.  There are some small edits and cutaway shots in the film that look like nothing else in the Star Wars universe (and not big special effects scenes but rather subtle little moments).  Now and then there are specific call outs to earlier films, in particular Luke Skywalker dying (Fnck you!  I told you there would be spoilers!) under twin suns echoing the moment in the original Star Wars when he stared off into the twin sunset of Tatooine and realized destiny was calling him elsewhere.  And the salt-encrusted mineral world of Crait is the closest thing to a genuinely alien world that we’ve ever seen in Star Wars.

That’s bad… As my son-in-law Bobby Dragulescu observed, the Star Wars universe is only visually consistent:  In no shape / fashion / form does it portray a uniform worldview (or rather, galactic-view) of a society that could actually function.  The political systems are a hot mess, and for all the endless talk about trade alliances in the prequels, there’s virtually no signs of actual large scale interstellar trade or commerce (with the possible exception of the bio-factory on Kamino cranking out endless copies of Temuera Morrison in Attack Of The Clones).  Mind you, virtually all space operas suffer from this flaw (Star Trek The Original Series hid it better than most by taking place so waaay far out there that commerce had not yet completely caught up with the Enterprise).  Star Wars looks pretty but makes no damn sense, and this problem only gets worse with each additional installment, building towers of cards on foundations of sand.

That’s good… Poe’s brief exchange with General Hux was Monty Python / Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy level hilarity, shockingly unexpected in a funny (not offensive) manner, and an absolute delight harkening back to the cheekiest lines in the original Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back.

That’s bad… The rest of the film has the worst dialog heard in a Star Wars movie written by anybody other than George Lucas.

That’s good… More (human) diversity in the roles, with females and non-whites / non-Europeans filling in a lot of supporting roles.

That’s bad… As much as I hate agreeing on anything with the fragile alt-right critics who decry said diversity, to this specifically limited degree they have a point:  The appearance of such characters was often shot / staged / edited in a way that instead of appearing naturalistic called undo attention to the casting.  “Hey, look!  We’ve got an Asian female doing stuff!”

That’s good… Gimme a moment…

That’s bad… I almost typed “There isn’t a single good performance in this film” but realized that isn’t true; there are several good performances but the bad ones are so bad they suck all memory of the good into a black hole of mediocrity.  Daisy Ridley as Rey does a good job, Domhnall Gleeson as General Hux and Benicio del Toro as DJ both chew scenery with great gusto, Kelly Marie Tran as Rose Tico struggles mightily to make a silk purse out of her sow’s ear and ends up with a nice imitation leather wallet, Andy Serkis draws ahead of Doug Jones as the best-actor-you-never-actually-see-onscreen race, but much to my delight Adam Driver as Kylo Ren goes so far over the emo top that I am capable of forgiving the film of all its grievous flaws.  That being said, The Last Jedi does Carrie Fisher no favors in her final portrayal of Leia Organa (flying through space like a Marvel superhero doesn’t help, either), Laura Dern is woefully miscast and seems to think she’s just doing a table read, and although serviceable as Luke Skywalker, Mark Hamil proves himself to be the least compelling performer to play a Jedi or Sith.  (He does shine as the voice of Dobbu Scay, a trollish alien who insists on shoving coins up BB-8’s nether regions.)

That’s good… ...lemme think…

That’s bad… When it’s good (see themes up above) the script is very good, but when it’s bad (50%+ of the remaining film) it sucks wet farts out of dead porgs.  Finn, Rose, and DJ have an incredibly convoluted / overly complicated hour long sub-plot that contributes absolutely nothing to the story’s final resolution.  They visit a gambling casino world that looks like a crappy swipe from a James Bond movie (tho the Gerry Anderson Supermarionation-looking alien was a nice touch), feature an alien critter race that’s a lift from Syd Mead, and chat incessantly via com-links while traveling through hyperspace despite the fact that tracking ships through hyperspace is repeatedly presented as a radical leap in technology!  And while it’s revealed the First Order has planted a homing device on Leia’s ship (something Darth Vader did in the original Star Wars with the Millennium Falcon) and has an agent on board, nothing is ever done with these ideas.

That’s good… Oh!  Snoke tells Kylo Ren to “get rid of that silly mask”.  That’s nice.

That’s bad… The Last Jedi drops the ball on several plot points in addition to the hyperspace tracking mentioned above.  Luke promises to teach Rey three lessons about the force, but only gets through two and the third one is never alluded to again.  They make a big deal about Rey’s parents being despicable drug addicts who sold her as an infant, completely lacking in Force pedigree which means (a) they are belaboring a non-crucial story point or (b) -- and we’ll give ‘em a benefit of a doubt here -- they’re planting a red herring in order to set up a big reveal for the next movie.  Snoke is demonstrated to be omniscient and capable of planning so far ahead and in so much detail that he can create a fake future in Kylo Ren’s mind for Rey to read, but conveniently leaves a live / fully charged light saber on the arm of his throne to get sliced in half by (and if he’s such a hot snot re Force abilities, why would getting whacked in half ala Darth Maul even slow him down?). 

That’s good… ...I got nuthin’…

That’s bad… Using a starship as a kamikaze by revving up to hyperjump speed and ramming it into the baddies’ ship is a cool idea but makes one wonder why didn’t anybody use it before in the Star Wars universe (c’mon, space torpedoes) and why did they wait to the very last minute to do so -- losing most of the supporting cast in the process -- instead of turning one of the other, smaller ships against Snoke’s flagship?  And nobody in the Star Wars universe has figured out that putting a sharp hairpin turn and/or baffles in an exhaust vent will keep people from dropping bombs / flying spaceships through it.

That’s good… Hey, no Death Star.  Finally.

 © Buzz Dixon