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homespork-review · 5 years

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Homespork Act 2: The Racism of the Conductor’s Baton (Part 1)

Years in the future, but not many…

TIER: Now what in the heck is this I wonder?

BRIGHT: ...the reader wonders what’s going on now, as we jump to a sun-bleached desert with a Wayward Vagabond wandering across it.

CHEL: Here, we introduce another count:

WHAT IS HAPPENING??: 1

Should the baffling developments to which this count is applied be explained satisfactorily later, we’ll take the points off, but we use the counts in the present to express how one feels on seeing them for the first time. Even if it does get explained later, I feel like this is oddly placed, especially since it doesn’t get explored in any detail here. Mileage may vary, though.

FAILURE ARTIST: I think when I first encountered this upd8 I didn’t click on the link.

BRIGHT: Thankfully - and unexpectedly - this state of affairs only lasts a page, and then we return to something associated with the storyline so far: Rose Lalonde has started a game walkthrough of SBurb. After spending quite a few words to say that she will be brief, she explains that installing the game is bringing about the end of the world.

Then she takes a couple more paragraphs to express her condolences and reassure everyone that it was all inevitable anyway.

CHEL: Not a case of HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING, as I considered briefly - writing the FAQ is about the only thing she can do in the circumstances. Warning people not to play the game won’t help now, since enough people have already started that the resulting meteors are going to destroy the Earth anyway. All anyone can do now is set up their own session and hope to escape through it, and all Rose can do to help is advise them in the hopes some succeed. Sucks for all the people in the world who don’t have a computer, though, but the apocalypse isn’t exactly supposed to be fair.

FAILURE ARTIST: Amidst her purple prose she uses the r-slur. It’s one thing reading John or TG say it, it’s another thing with her.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 5

BRIGHT: Over on the next page, John has survived! As has his house, and his father, although there are eyes peering out from under the bed...and through the kitchen door...oh, yeah, and the house is now perched atop a rocky crag in a dark sky.

FAILURE ARTIST: That’s a good atmospheric animation. The next animation doesn’t have the [S] for sound but it’s longer than a couple seconds. I probably accidentally clicked next when I first saw it.

Next, we get a new voice: some mysterious insistent prompter who calls John “BOY”. We’ll find out later who this person is.

CHEL: I’d say this doesn’t earn a WHAT IS HAPPENING point because we’re used to John obeying prompts. It’s curious that the style has changed, but not completely confusing.

FAILURE ARTIST: Next comes the first walkaround game! The reader moves John via the mouse, arrow keys, or the WASD keys. When you click on certain objects, a little yellow box comes up with messages clearly from the mysterious prompter. If you click that box, John’s opinions come in a green-lined box. You can walk around the whole house and backyard - except for John’s father’s room.

Since this is an interactive game, you can go in whatever order you want, but for the sake of summarizing, let’s go by the order in the printed edition.

John surveys the balcony. The prompter wants you to “do something with” what it calls the “ghost clown” and John explains that ghost clown is the kernelsprite and the Sburb server player is supposed to be the one to prototype it. Meanwhile, the kernelsprite spouts wingding.

John goes down the hallway. Dad’s room is locked so John goes to the bathroom. He notes that Rose did a “piss-poor” job of fixing the bathroom. He wonders if he could just pee over the cliff. Thankfully, this never happens.

John goes into his bedroom. It’s a mess. The door has been ripped off the hinge and there’s black goo everywhere. John is annoyed at the mess but begrudgingly admits Rose saved his life. John (or the reader) takes the time to look at the posters.

The prompter doesn’t like Little Monsters anymore than TG but John wishes he could hang out with Fred Savage. John’s wish to hang out with candy-corn-horn monsters could be considered foreshadowing and Hussie jokes about it being that but Hussie probably didn’t have trolls in mind at that point. Clicking the Con Air poster elicits the question “IS THAT JOHN CUSACK?” from the prompter. When we find out who the prompter is, it will make little sense they would recognize John Cusack, but the actor is a universal constant. Clicking the Ghostbusters 2 poster, we find out TG calls the film “nasty manbro bukkake theater” and poor innocent John doesn’t know what that means. It’s rather disturbing that TG does know. (CALL CPA PLEASE?)

CHEL: Not sure. At that age with access to the internet I picked up a bunch of obscene words without actually seeing the material they applied to. Then again, this is TG, and considering his later-seen home life it’s quite possible he didn’t just get curious on Urban Dictionary, so…

CALL CPA PLEASE: 1

FAILURE ARTIST: He examines the totem lathe, which the prompter calls a “sewing machine”, and wonders if other punch cards will make other shapes.

If you click on the computer, you see Rose is trying to get in touch with John. He ignores her for now.

John leaves the bedroom and makes his way down the stairs. Both he and the prompter hate all the harlequin art, but John does like the crude bust sitting on the floor.

The Cruxtruder is still in the middle of the room with its lid open. When you click on the lid, the prompter commands John to reseal the opening and John says “Pandora’s tube” has been opened, which is awfully literary for him. When you click on the Cruxtruder itself, the prompter demands John push it and exit the house. John says he can’t without grist and comes close to dropping the comic’s name.

When you click on the urn, the prompter commands John to topple it. John refuses, saying he’d never do that… at least intentionally. If you click on the portrait above the urn of Nanna, John wishes for her wisdom.

The prompter calls the doors to the kitchen “like you see in a cowboy saloon”, a turn-of-phrase that will be weird when we find out who the prompter is.

So John goes into the kitchen. There’s lots of black goo around and an orphaned bowl of cake batter, but no Dad. The black goo is apparently oil. John wishes for his father back. If you click on Colonel Sassacre’s book, John declares that both it and WISE GUY are his “favoritest book”. The prompter wants John to eat some of the Betty Crocker cake mix but John calls Betty Crocker a “wench”. This is the start of John’s feud with Betty Crocker. On the fridge is a primitive drawing of Slimer that John drew at the tender age of almost thirteen. This won’t be the only picture on a fridge we see. There’s board games in the kitchen cabinet, a callback to Death’s games in Problem Sleuth and also a weird place to put board games. If you click on the kitchen phone, you find out the prompter does know what a telephone is, but this phone doesn’t work.

Through the door is a laundry room, but both John and the prompter agree there’s no time for that. Note that the prompter knows what washer and dryer machines are.

Next, John goes into the backyard. The prompter wants John to fiddle with the live wires and John wisely refuses. John checks what the prompter calls a “wall-mounted gadget” (electric meter) and discovers the house is still powered. How come the prompter is familiar with so many electrical devices but doesn’t know about live wires and electric meters? In his commentary, Hussie does note that this is strange.

CHEL: To be fair, “magic” is a legitimate power source in this world.

FAILURE ARTIST: From the tree hangs a pair of trick handcuffs over the void and the prompter wants John to claim them. The prompter seems to be out to get John killed.

John goes back into the house (via what the prompter calls the “luncheon parlor”) and goes to the piano room. If you click on the huge mural, John says Cirque du Soleil filed a restraining order on Dad. I think Hussie once said it was because Dad tried to shave a performer. The prompter wants John to “consume nut” (again with the death!)...

CHEL: “Consume nut”? *immature snickering*

FAILURE ARTIST: ...but John says there’s probably no hospitals in this dark realm. If you click on the piano, the sheet music for Showtime pops up and that songs plays instead of the constant wind noise. Maybe you should visit this room first. There’s a safe in this room but John doesn’t know the combination.

Though Dad seems obsessed with clowns, we’ll later find out something that turns that on its head. However, Hussie does have his own interest in clowns, having once created a comic about a hapless circus clown named Whistles.

According to the book commentary, the entire walkaround game took less than twenty-four hours to draw, write, and program. Still looks good. That wind noise does get awfully annoying.

CHEL: The walkaround game is also the original source of “Trickster Mode”, an Easter egg in the Flash in which Hussie’s face floats on the screen and John looks like this:

Speculation ran rampant in fanfic and art for years, usually involving the “Tricksters” being the Superpowered Evil Sides of the kids. This isn’t quite how it turned out when Trickster Mode appeared again (much to my disappointment, I admit, I liked those), but that’s for much, much later in the comic.

John and Rose chat again. John can’t find his dad. Rose explains that John and his house have been transported to a mysterious somewhere which saved him from the meteor impact that destroyed his neighbourhood. Her research has turned up many similar collisions across the world, getting bigger with time, and the two conclude that the objective of the game must be to stop the meteors and save the world. There’s a rather cute bit of dialogue where Rose wishes John happy birthday and mentions her gift to him is in progress, and she helps him retrieve his father’s PDA from the precipice for portable internet.

FAILURE ARTIST: In Andrew Hussie’s annotation, he says this conversation made fans see the two as a “shippable commodity” (Hussie’s exact phrase) but compares them to shipping Colonel Sassacre/Pogo Ride.

CHEL: I’m pretty sure he was being facetious there, especially given that equally weird ships are actually canon, but the worse parts of the fandom latched onto it and John/Rose shippers get a lot of shit, mostly from people who ship Rose with girls. People who ship John with boys seem a lot more mellow about it. That’s Tumblr for you.

FAILURE ARTIST: On Dad’s PDA, you can see a chatroom called SERIOUS BUSINESS where a FedoraFreak is updating everyone on his rescue of his wardrobe from a house fire. FedoraFreak’s story doesn’t end here. While he doesn’t ever appear on screen his conversation can be seen on the PDA a few times later and at the end a character exposits important backstory to him before he passes away. Andrew Hussie brought up FedoraFreak a lot on his defunct Formspring with facts that like many of his answers on that site might be just taking the piss.

CHEL: John is now starting to notice the mysterious commands in his head, and attempts to refuse to follow them further; the cut back to the Wayward Vagabond immediately afterwards shows that he’s the one giving the commands by way of a strange-looking console. The console has four screens, three dark, one showing John. Now he’s starting to seem a lot less random, though we still don’t know much about him. If it was up to me I might have used this as his introduction instead of the first page with him that we got. He’s wrapped in rags but we can see enough of him to know that he doesn’t look human - his fingers are sharply pointed, his eyes are tiny and beady, he has no hair, and his flesh is stark black. Admittedly he doesn’t look a lot less like a real human than the stylised sprites of the human characters do, but you see what I mean, he doesn’t fit the appearance they have.

FAILURE ARTIST: I like this reveal of Wayward Vagabond, though I think again my first read I didn’t click the link. I don’t know why it’s a link and not a panel.

CHEL: Rose’s FAQ further explains what was demonstrated earlier, warning users not to activate the Cruxtruder until they’re ready to start the countdown. Once it is activated, it produces “cruxite dowels”, cylinders of mysterious material, which can be used in conjunction with the “Totem Lathe”, the “Alchemiter”, and special punchcards to produce objects from nothing, which will prove useful, though honestly I don’t know why they need to put the punchcard through the Totem Lathe and then the totem in the Alchemiter. I feel a step could be eliminated there in the design of these machines.

Unfortunately the FAQ also contains this line, and I don’t mean it’s unfortunate because Rose making typos is OOC:

Removing the lid signals the moment your life becomes a great whirling batshit pandemonium, somewhat resembling the chaos of an especially ethnic wedding. Somewhere, a soused uncle deliberately shatters china on the floor. Muddy livestock is decorated, and then lost track of. The question “Who’s mule is this?” at times can be heard over the din. CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 6 WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 3

FAILURE ARTIST: Oh wow. Guess there’s a lot hidden in these easy-to-skip parts.

CHEL: Rose herself is still in the observatory, watching the storm outside and the flaming collisions of meteors in the distance. Her laptop battery is running low, the house’s electricity is out, and the fire is getting closer, but there’s a backup generator behind the backyard mausoleum. While she has time, she tries to help John by prototyping the sprite for a second time, but it dodges the various items she tries to put in it, until Nanna’s ashes are knocked over a second time, directly onto it.

FAILURE ARTIST: I think it is said later that the prototyping is drawn to dead things. While the Betty Crocker box would be very interesting considering the mythology that later develops around that marketing icon, obviously the sprite would chose Nanna’s ashes.

CHEL: The Colonel Sassacre book has some importance in the lore, too. We’ll see that when more backstory is revealed.

The sprite disappears, but as John searches for an escape route from the house to retrieve the second CD-ROM, we see it again, slightly changed…

TG messages John and still seems pretty calm about John’s reports of weird happenings, coming out with a pretty entertaining rap about the situation. I still always giggle at “afflecks saclifice, i mean -crifice, would have to sufflice. aw fluck it”.

TG: ill have to make a rap about TG: i dont know TG: morgan freeman or something TG: being the president TG: itll be called TG: "obama made it so that no one gives a shit about black presidents in movies anymore" WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 4

FAILURE ARTIST: Fanon makes TG a great rapper but he really sucks and the only time he doesn’t (and in fact is the best in paradox space) we don’t actually get to read it.

CHEL: Probably that’s because the fans saying he’s great can’t rap any better. I know his rapping is a lot better than any I could do - for one thing he’s able to come up with one at all that quickly. I mean, yes, he does use words like “derangerous” in it, but I listen to a band who tried to rhyme “plane” with “California”.

FAILURE ARTIST: Good point. I can’t rap either.

CHEL: Is this a Problematykks point? I don’t think black people are the butt of the joke exactly, but…

Anyway. John stands on the balcony and Rose lifts the car from its precarious position on a spike of ground over the abyss, with the intention that John can break the window to retrieve the second part of the game, but just as he almost reaches it, her connection is lost, and the car plummets out of view below the clouds beneath the house.

FAILURE ARTIST: “The loss of any Dodge Dart is a terrible thing.”

CHEL: While checking his PDA, John is messaged by GG again! She’s surprised when he knows the explosion near her house was a meteor. Fortunately she’s unharmed, and mildly surprised but encouraging when John explains. Since he can’t reach Rose, John decides he has to get TG involved; TG is still rap-typing, and John’s reaction of “aaaaaarrrgh!” is pretty appropriate. John tells TG he has to use the game to save Rose, but TG’s lost his copy, and his brother apparently won’t be happy about TG borrowing his.

Rose gathers up her stuff to head out to the backup generator. Attempting to use her Grimoire for Summoning the Zoologically Dubious in her strife specibus results in this creepiness, so instead she uses her knitting needles. Some pages are spent consulting the Grimoire anyway, introducing the reader to the NOBLE CIRCLE OF HORRORTERRORS and some diagrams of what appear to be windows.

FAILURE ARTIST: Problem Sleuth had weird teleporting window shenanigans so this is a callback to that.

Rose goes outside briefly and thinks of a T.S. Eliot quote (“April is the cruellest month..”) that she attributes to Charles Barkley. Misattributed quotes are a running gag in this comic but for all we know in this verse maybe Charles Barkley did say that.

CHEL: She re-enters the house and prepares to risk confrontation with her mother…

And suddenly we jump to TG.

FAILURE ARTIST: Insufferable Prick Dave, unlike John and Rose, doesn’t simply shake his head disapprovingly at the joke name but takes out his sword and slices the box. He has a strong sense of self. Strider was probably a Lord of the Rings reference but Andrew Hussie didn’t come up with the names. He only chose them.

Like I said earlier, Dave Strider is sort of an author avatar for Andrew Hussie. Dave and Andrew have a similar sense of humor, similar bodies of work, and perhaps similar neuroses.

Dave’s introduction lists a few interests that never really come up again. He is said to like BANDS NO ONE’S HEARD OF BUT [HIM] but we never hear of these bands either. Andrew Hussie in the printed book bemoans that he never got around to talking about that interest. He collects WEIRD DEAD THINGS IN JARS but besides creating one abomination this collection never amounts to anything. He even lampshades his forgotten interests much later.

CHEL: The other kids at least get something made of their interests; John’s bad movies come up a lot and are the starting topic of a later important conversation, and Rose and GG’s interests are relevant to their game powers. Dave’s, well… The swords are his favoured weapon, but swordplay is much more of his brother’s interest than his, which is thematically appropriate, but leaves Dave’s own interests rather out of the spotlight.

Dave has a very cramped-looking room with furniture made of boards and cinderblocks and a bed which appears to merely be two mattresses stacked together. When the prompts bring up the game, he has the game in his possession and claims to have no intention of playing it, showing this is a flashback.

FAILURE ARTIST: Dave looks in his closet and finds the box his 13th birthday present from John came in plus a jar full of a yellow substance. John had given him shades worn by Ben Stiller in a movie and while the movie isn’t named it is the 2004 remake of Starsky & Hutch featuring the comedic duo Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson. That movie appears in Problem Sleuth and much much later Stiller and Wilson become part of Homestuck’s mythology.

Meanwhile, the jar full of a yellow substance is not what you think.

CHEL: He browses the internet for a while, showing his satirical reviews of GameBro magazine, and introducing one of the comic’s favourite running gags, Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff.

SBaHJ is something of a legend even outside the Stuckosphere. Hussie originally drew it as a parody of bad two-gamers-on-a-couch webcomics, intentionally using terrible art, terrible dialogue, confusing layouts, and non-sequitur “jokes”. It proved popular, so he turned it into an entire comic strip, getting steadily worse with each entry. It… well, go check it out, words can’t really do it justice. Be warned that there is some graphic and disturbing content including incest, scat, gore, and bestiality, albeit all drawn so poorly it’s kind of hard to tell what one is looking at.

FAILURE ARTIST: Not just a general parody, it was in response to this guy on the Penny Arcade forum who wanted to learn just enough art to make a two-gamers-on-a-couch webcomic and refused to listen to people who told him he’d have to learn the basics.

CHEL: In-universe, the comic is drawn by Dave, who has “legions of devoted fans, most of whom are totally convinced of your creative persona's sincerity. Which is just how you like it.” Dave’s devotion to the concept of “irony” is a major part of his character; he hides behind “irony” as his reason for doing almost everything, up to and including liking his birthday present.

We then see a few pages from the fictional webcomic John also liked, depicting the Midnight Crew. While this could be interesting and relevant (you’ll see why soon), it would be more so at a point when we weren’t waiting for one of the main characters to be rescued from a meteor strike and/or massive fire.

GET ON WITH IT!: 4

FAILURE ARTIST: That is a lot of panels just to spend watching a character read a webcomic, even considering the importance of the webcomic.

CHEL: And while we’re at it, I’m assigning another point for posting Dave’s first conversation with John again. The reader might need a reminder of what was said, yes, but the magic of the internet means it would be possible to provide a link back to that page rather than making archive bingers read the same thing twice.

GET ON WITH IT!: 5

The new conversation he has with Rose is entertaining and establishes their relationship of mutual friendly snark very well, though.

TG: if you ever find yourself in the position where your life depends on me playing that piece of shit game, then ill play

Unwise words, Dave.

We briefly cut back to John, who finds another mysterious trail of oil in his house, and whiplash back to Dave. This might be an issue of the webcomic format again; in a webcomic, it’s reasonable to occasionally remind the readers that yes, this character’s still there and still doing things. In a book or in an archive binge, it’s a little jarring, but if the former applies that’s not really the writer’s fault.

Back at Dave’s, there’s a Flash DJ game on Dave’s fancy mixing equipment (much nicer than anything else in the room, as we’ll discuss further later), on which Dave accidentally spills his bottle of what despite John’s comments is definitely apple juice. He emerges from his room to fetch a towel, and now we see some clearer hints of the weirdness of his home. In the short trip to the bathroom we see two marionettes, created out of photo collages in jarring contrast to Dave’s sprite self, one overlooking the hallway and one hanging in the shower. Dave, meanwhile, cleans up the juice and hangs the soaked CD-ROM envelopes up at his window to dry. Despite his remembering to turn off the electric fan so they don’t get blown out, the game discs naturally end up going out the window anyway in somewhat more unusual fashion; specifically, a crow flies in and randomly steals them. Dave’s attempts to stop the bird result in sylladex shenanigans, causing his katana to fly out, impale the bird, and send it and the game discs crashing through the window.

#homespork #homestuck #homestuck meta #homestuck reread #homestuck review #let's read homestuck #literary critique #sporking

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go-diane-winchester · 6 years

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How Misha ruined slash fiction

THIS IS AN EDITED REPOST.

I first got into fandom slash fiction because of Lord of the Rings. Before that I had no idea there were others like me. The Ringers, as I prefer to call them, were the nicest slash fans and gave me the erroneous impression that slashers are really lovely girls. How wrong I was. But almost twenty years ago, I [and my generational demographic] had the semblance of mind to differentiate between fact and fantasy. I came across the definition of slash fiction, way back then. Its was generically defined as fanwork done by women for women. Of course one would argue that men like slash fiction too. Correction. Straight and Bi women like slash fiction. Gay or bisexual men like Bara. That is something that they indulge in because it is attractive to them. How trans people fit into this dynamic, would be an interesting study for the future and I have already done a post on that subject.

Straight women are completely different. How straight women show their attraction and what they are attracted to, is completely different to what gay or bi men like. Even bisexual women are still women and still writing from a female perspective. For decades, and I am counting the pre-star trek era, that was how things were. Women, for decades, had no other platform for sexual expression except slash fiction. The phenomenon started in the East, and spread all over the world. But Eastern and Western slash are completely different from one another. Why don't women just write something with a man and a woman? This is where we notice that slashers and other women are completely different. Slashers don't like to watch another woman’s love story. Its not satisfying for us. We can write ourselves as the other half of a pairing, like a Mary Sue scenario, but to be honest, its not the most popular genre because the only woman truly satisfied with the story is the writer herself. Women, very seldom, bond over Mary Sues. But slash stories are discussed as a way of bonding over a common interest.

Classic slash was hidden. It was underground, which was good because the uncultured riff raff stayed away. It was the ultimate girl talk. It surprised us, how similar our desires were and what we found attractive. Remember the faulty character Becky Rosen? Even though she is problematic, the moment Sam licked his thumb and wiped the ink stain off her nose, many of us turned into embarrassing swoony puddles. Why? He was cleaning her nose, for goodness sake. What’s so cute about that? I don’t know. We all just gushed at him. Remember Dean spinning the Impala in the episode “Baby”. I played that bit again and again. It had nothing to with sex. Dean was handling a car but I remember having a flushed face over it.

I read somewhere that foreplay starts in the kitchen. This applies to women anyway. So warming your girl up starts way before you even get her to the bedroom. So you start with a candle lit dinner and soft music and slow dancing. While he may be ready when he walks in through the door, she will need wining, dining, dancing and lovey dovey talk to get interested. Usually. Sometimes, she will appear suddenly turned on, but no, she just saw her husband helping an old man cross the street, and she thought ’‘why is he so stinking cute? Wait till I get my hands on him’’. But that is once in a while. We don’t switch on and off like men. We are, by nature, cautious creatures. Getting us in the mood is as important as the act of lovemaking itself. That is why art that is geared to women, generally, is over-the-top and melodramatic, indulging the foreplay more than the sex.

Ryan Gosling with a boom box [or whatever you call that thing] standing on top a car, confessing his undying love = foreplay. Jack Dawson making Rose stand at the head of the ship [or whatever you call it], making her imagine she’s flying = foreplay. Is it necessary to the story? Nope. Will the Titanic stay buoyant because Jack didn’t make Rose fly? Nah, its will still sink. Do we like it, nonetheless? Oooh, yeah.

For the past 80 or so years, we have kept slash fiction solely to ourselves because:

men wont appreciate it because its not their “thing”

men will misunderstand it [case in point: Misha Collins]

because it was sexual fantasy and some of us would prefer not to share that openly.

Did male actors speak about it when they did find out? Yes, in passing, especially if they were the subject of the story. A reporter or crew member would always tell them. In the case of J2, Kim Manners apparently told them what he had found on the internet. The Lord of the Rings cast found out because of Peter Jackson. What was their reaction? The same as all the other actor’s reactions: They would smirk/laugh about it, make a joke and move on. Then Misha Collins came along. The first time he had spoken about slash fiction, I had winced. Apparently, judging from the audience reaction, so had they. We really didn’t want this spoken about, openly, for two reason.

1] He was speaking to a general audience during his panel. Some of them don’t care for slash fiction and no, homophobia has nothing to do with it. If it doesn’t float your boat, it just doesn’t. Keep throwing the word homophobia around, unnecessarily, and its going to eventually lose its effectiveness because it is frequently being used to bully people into doing what you want, rather than for equality. So no, Jensen Ackles is not a homophobe because he doesn’t want to be up close and personal with Misha Collins. Grow up.

2] The sane slashers of those days, [and it was a decade ago] didn’t want their personal naughty little secrets spoken about so candidly in a public setting. Why? Let me illustrate. If you tell your friends, in a personal setting, how you like when a man runs his hands all over your body, it will illicit some “oohs” and giggles followed by their own contributions to the discussion. If you are sitting with that same gaggle of friends at a crowded restaurant and you say the same thing loudly for the whole room to hear, what will they think of you, especially if they have children with them.

Slash used to be one of those things a lady never spoke about in public, no matter how empowered she thought she was. Personally, I don’t think a lady has to relinquish her femininity and decency in order to feel empowered. That’s why I don’t like women, like Kim and Briana, who call themselves bitches to show how tough they are. Sure, I will break a man's face, if he puts his hands on me, but that doesn’t mean that I have no feminine qualities, and I won't exhibit this aggressive side of myself with a loving and caring man. I guess things have changed since the early days, and women are different now. But this is just my opinion and not relevant to the subject at hand.

If Misha knew how to gauge the audience, he would have understood there and then, that this is not a suitable topic to indulge in, where the audience was mixed and included some younger people, i.e., teens and children. What he did, was to keep running his mouth off about something he didn’t know. And its shows in the way he refers to Destiel as pseudo-porn. His fans were very angry about it, because it lessened their artistic efforts to pornography and nothing else. He said he went on Wikipedia to learn more about slash fiction. For a man who went to university, he is not very smart. If you have ever done any academic research report at university level, you will know that any report that includes citations from Wikipedia are immediately rejected.

Wikipedia is an unreliable source of convoluted, opinionated information that is sometimes not quantifiable and therefore cannot act as an academic resource. Plus anyone can edit those pages, no matter what agenda they have or how stupid they are. This fool didn’t know that. So he started to “educate” the still fixated younger batch [who have now grown into the hellers we loathe with gusto] in the audience and on YouTube as to what slash fiction was and that is why they like him so much. While other actors speak a line about it and move onto another topic, Professor Knowitall esq. will give his rather young audience a lecture on a subject he knows nothing about, thereby conditioning them to think that slash fiction is something that it isn’t. Is he that stupid or that arrogant?

If you look through Wikipedia, it will give you the impression that slash is homosexual in nature, and that it is an expression of gay love. The fact that those stories and artwork originated with straight women and are powered by the artistic efforts of straight women, is ignored. There are topics about queer recognition and LGBT relevance on that page. The page isn’t telling you what slash fiction is. It is telling you what other groups feel about it. I can tell you, almost a century ago, slash fans were not indulging this art form for those reasons. They were doing it for their own satisfaction. If other people like it too, that’s fine and dandy, but it is not about them. And what Misha has done with this fandom, which is bleeding into other fandoms via intrusive destiel fans, is to make slash about the LGBT.

That is why gay men are now getting angry because young impressionable girls are listening to him and turning a straight/bi female art form into an inaccurate gay platform. They are using things like closetedness, gay bashings, bigotry and even AIDS as a gay “trope” or theme for their stories. Gay men fought to change the name ''Gay Cancer'' to AIDS, because it was erroneously being considered a homosexual disease, and yet years later, we have a ''fake'' inclusive generation celebrating a story like ''Twist and Shout". No wonder gay men hate teen slash girls. If you write about a subject you know nothing of, you will write it wrong. These children [because they behave like that] are writing about some very sensitive and serious topics and they are romanticizing them. What person wont get angry?

In the old days, the two people who made up a pairing, were differentiated, by using two words: Seme and Uke. While slash was a straight female art form, gay men didn’t give two hoots about these words. They didn’t read the stuff. They didn’t care. They had bara. When “woke and non-bigoted, inclusive” slash fans started speaking for gay men through their stories despite the fact that these men have a voice of their own, the guys got angry because they don’t have a seme and uke role type in their relationships. Well, of course they don’t. Slash is not about gay men. Its about straight women and their sexual expression. And in their fantasies, there are seme’s and uke’s.

That is another problem with the Wikipedia page. When you look at the history, it starts with Kirk and Spock. The dunderhead who wrote that page, didn’t know that slash started in the east, probably Japan, although Hong Kong might dispute that. When it became animated in the 1970’s, the anime version was called Yaoi. The Japanese were actually making money from slash fiction way back when, by making comic type books, essentially novels with pictures. And it was those translated stories, which were almost always set in another world, that gave birth to Kirk/Spock slash fiction. Star Trek is also set in another world so to speak. The westerners got hold of these books when the Asians immigrated. The first slash stories were actually distributed in conventions, because the internet didn't exist back then.

There is only one other person who over-indulged his slash fan base. Harry Styles. He regretted it, because it ruined his friendship. So he stopped. But he had a good excuse. He was between the ages of 15 and 19 whilst in 1 Direction. He was a baby and didn’t know any better. Harry learned his lesson within five years and stopped. Misha has been on the show for ten years. He was in his mid thirties when he started on Supernatural. He was already a grown man who has no excuse, because he is not stupid. With the amount of damage the militant destiel fans have done, you would think that he would stop. He doesn’t. Because it gives him staying power.

The one thing I have noticed is, overindulging a slash fan [not necessary a heller - any slash fan] is like feeding a Mogwai after midnight. It turns into an uncontrollable gremlin. That is exactly what Misha’s militant fanbase is: a hideous collection of gremlins that he overfed and now they are attacking any mogwai that doesn’t show gremlin traits, even if they are mild-mannered destiel fans who don't like the leads beings threatened. What Misha’s dumb section have now done, is that they have taken slash fiction itself, and turned it into an increasingly hateful and problematic concept. Because, the general public, which includes J2 [because they have nothing to do with slash fiction], now have the impression that slash is a means of bullying and putting your indulgences before other peoples’ opinions and dignity, in the name of representation.

It also give the impression, to unknowing people, that homosexuals are boisterous and demanding people and you have to please them or else. The general public don’t know that predominantly female, heterosexual, entitled princesses are writing this crap. They think that gays are pushing slash fiction because words like gay, queer and LGBT keep popping up in a pro-destiel argument. Any gay man reading this, take heed, because these children are damaging your collective reputations. And if you don’t deal with it now, the PR headache you are going to have to deal with, in the future, as a group, is going to be immense. And it won’t even be your fault, but you will be blamed for it. How do you go about doing that? Speak directly to Misha. Shut up the master Gremlin-Troll himself. Tell him he is doing you a great disservice. After all, the mostly straight heller girls are speaking for you and he is pushing the microphones into their hands.

I always liked slash because not only was it a means of female sexual expression, but it was also a means of female creativity. Sure, we all like Cinderella, but it was lukewarm for some of us because, she was difficult to emulate. And growing up, we didn’t know she was a character to enjoy, not to emulate. Children always emulate what they see on screen. She was thin, pretty, a good singer with nice hair and small feet. I am club footed, bipolar and fat, with a lion’s mane that brushes broke on. I felt sorry for her because she was abused. I felt sorry for her because she was crying at one point. Then I remembered what I look like when I cry. Soft tears don't roll gently down my pink cheeks. Snot rolls down my nose, careening to the inside of my mouth. Not pretty. Not delicate. The story was nice but it left me feeling inadequate. Some women love it. Others, like myself, are “meh” about it.

When I read a bemusing slash version with actors in place of the fictional cast, I read the whole story smirking. I didn’t begrudge the beautiful lead [I think it might have been Jensen] because I was as besotted with him as Prince Charming was [presumably Jared]. I didn’t want to be him. I wanted him. I wanted the prince too, just FYI. I could be a fly on the wall in the story, without actually picturing how my insignificant self would fit into the story. That is what slash fiction meant to me. It was an escapist art form into a fantasy 'verse, that is custom made to put a smile on my face.

Now, Prince Charming is fighting for gay rights against his bigoted father, the king, and Cinderella is beaten by his ugly step siblings because he is a homo. And I look at it and blink. I am not the audience for this story. Empathy is one thing, but replacing your sexuality with someone else’s, is something else all together. Especially since every slash story now, seems to be about gay characters and gay rights and homophobia. Slash has turned into a one trick pony. How much could you write about gay rights? Slash’s creativity is running on autopilot. Take your ship, make them gay, make one closeted and unhappy, make the other out and happy, throw in a gay oriented trope, even AIDS [no decency threshold] and boom! You've got a story.

They’ve been writing in this way for the last ten years and they’ve ruined the whole genre. So much so, that destiel and cockles stories aren’t enjoyed by anyone except destiel fans, because Misha and Cas are in those stories. And he is always written as a precious smol bean. At this juncture, I have to point out that, to be fair, other ships on Supernatural and other fandoms are doing the same thing, because destiel fans bend the will of others to their own. I heard they are actually tagging destiel into posts about other shows. Other bloggers noticed that destiel and Misha are in Mother Nature tag. They don't even leave Mother Nature alone. Why? Because Misha has turned a harmless indulgence into an addiction. He is their only dealer and pursuing canon gives them their fix. They are gremlins on crack with stunted creativity.

Of course, the children argue that they can't read an unrealistic story which is why slash characters have to instead be gay. Oh yeah, then how come in Cockles stories, Misha is something pregnant. Sometimes, he is a pregnant wolf. So you can take your “realism” and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. When you write a totes realistic story, with gay characters rather than slash characters, you are disrespecting three groups of people:

the actors, who are your, sometimes, unwilling muses

the homosexual community, that you have absolutely no right to speak for

the earlier slash fans who nurtured this art form, before you ''woke'' idiots came barreling in, with your inclusiveness, and flushed their efforts down the toilet, all at the behest on one selfish man.

Decent slashers say: This is a work of fiction and has no bearings on reality. Then they go out of their way to not include themes that are synonymous with the gay community. The characters in a properly written story are never explicitly gay. They just like some guy, even though last week they were with a girl. And no, that doesn’t make them bisexual either. Remember, slash is a platform with a large percentage of straight females and bisexuals don’t want you speaking for them, either. Otherwise, nobody will dispute the hellers for saying that Dean is bi because he wore a purple shirt, once. The fed up bisexuals reading insulting meta on how Dean is bisexual, because of his food and clothing choices, are a case in point. So the character are fantasy slash characters. If I were to coin a word, then they are slashsexual.

They are just muses for the woman’s sexual expression. We don’t need to tell them what we are doing, thereby putting them in an uncomfortable position to amend or dispute our opinion about the subject. That is plain rude and borderline sexual harassment. Even if we are women and they are men. Treat them with the same dignity that you demand for yourself. Its got nothing to do with them. Don’t ask them. Misha, on the other hand, has no shame and will therefore never turn down a question. He will answer the question in a way that his gullible fangirls like, inflating his ego and giving him permanence in the show. Has Misha caused irreparable damage? I am afraid so. Older women, in the SPN fandoms, get caught up in life so they don’t indulge in slash as much. And so the brats are running this art form to the ground, teaching nonsense to those that are younger than them, parroting whatever crap Misha spews about slash fiction, in the name of sexual equality, representation and the LGBT. I am not even counting their online behaviour, just pointing out their horrible handling of slash fiction at the behest of Misha Collins. They still listen to him and its going to get worse and worse, until slash fiction becomes THE most hateful thing about fan culture.

Please note:

The analysis of slash fiction does not include tinhatting. Tinhats do not believe that the people they are writing about are mere muses. Cockles fans and J2 Tinhats believe that they people they are writing about, really are gay, but closeted due to public shame and ostracization. Tinhats, at least the ones that I came across, do not like to be seen as shippers. They are a separate entity altogether. That would be a fascinating topic for the future. Thank you to the tinhat who reminded me of this, because I completely forgot.

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blueangelsq · 6 years

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Is this what giving up feels like? (stream of thought)

***Edit 10/10/19***

I wanted to leave a little update on this to remind myself that I don't feel this way ALL the time. It's just that some days are bad. But some days are good, too. Today, for example, was an alright day. I also have a bit of direction now, which I did not have at the time of this original writing. Just try to remember that, though it feels like it may never end, bad things don't last forever. You WILL be okay, and you WILL be happy again.

***End Edit***

I am unsure why I've decided to start posting here.

I live alone. I've recently moved to a new state where I know no one. I have generalized anxiety disorder and have a hard time talking to people in normal social situations. Everything makes me nervous. I avoid meeting new people and tend to get irritated when unexpected things disrupt my routines. But at the same time I crave a certain amount of adventure and spontaneity.

I'm 33 years old. A geek. I am not overweight and am physically active. My main hobbies are anime and gaming, but I also love hiking and urban walks and have a bench and weights at home that I like using. I have a hard time eating healthy though, mostly because I hate cooking and find it entirely tedious. I mostly eat frozen veggies and rice. I... don't eat the veggies frozen. I do cook them. I just buy frozen because they're already cut and it's less to deal with.

I still don't know why I've started this. I guess I'll just write words until I've got nothing left to write.

I have trouble saving money. I pay my bills and am responsible in that way, but frivolous with any excess and can never seem to save anything. I was good at it when I was saving cash though rather than using a savings account, oddly.

I feel like I've reached a point where there's really no reason to continue forward. Striving for things, trying to learn, trying to be somehow productive or useful with my time... I have lost the purpose of it. There a certainly things I'm good at, things I could master if I did the work. I just can't seem to muster the discipline or motivation to do it any more.

*Why?* is the question I ask myself a lot these days. Why continue? What good is it any more? I'm in my mid thirties and have nothing to show for it, but it feels like it's too late now. There's no point in starting anything new, is there? I'll never have enough time to master any of it now.

Maybe this is a yell into the void and there really isn't a purpose to it. You know how sometimes you just want to say something 'aloud' but don't really know who to say it to? It's like that. Or maybe that you don't really need to say it to anyone in particular, but it's weird to talk to yourself in public. Kind of like that? The internet is great for yelling into the void. No one out there listens, but you can yell as loud as you want and no one really complains either.

I do feel like I'm beginning to give up. Powering through alone is very hard. You tire easily. But there's no one here, so nothing to be done. You try to keep going it alone, but really being alone all the time is quite hard. You can lose reasons for things. Like I am now. If you don't have good friends around you to encourage you, especially when it's hard to see the merit in what you're doing, it's easy to start believing there isn't actually a point to any of it. I could be the greatest line artist in the world, but it doesn't matter because what's the point of creating stuff when no one is there to appreciate it?

So I'm telling you, The Void, that I feel like giving up. Though I promised I would never be that person, it was a promise I made when I was very young, to no one in particular, and feels like a rather pointless promise now. Nothing feels likes it's got purpose behind it any more.

I have used the word pointless quite a lot here. And that's how it feels. Why continue to draw, or improve? I gain nothing from it and neither does anyone else. There is no GOOD in it, if that makes sense.

Yet.

You know what sucks? There are a shit ton of IDEAS just floating around up here. Right in the space around my head, at eye level. Images I can see SO CLEARLY that would be beautiful on paper. If I had the skill and the patience and the motivation and the... But I just don't care enough any more. I have forgotten how.

I have forgotten how to care enough to actually start something. Or, on the rare occasion I manage it, I can't care enough to finish. I can't count the number or drawings or stories that are laying around here only half finished or barely begun. The story of that little girl who befriends a forest spirit or the picture of the woman with galaxies in her hair.

I don't know.

I just don't know. And I've run out of steam. There's not much left here but a tired, groggy mind and a body that's harder to move by the day.

#yelling into the void #maybe someday #it will matter

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tracyloveswork · 7 years

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Rise of the Poor Image

Interview with Zack Rosenberg, Trust﹠Safety/Community Representative, Tumblr and Amanda Brennan “Meme librarian”, Content﹠Community Associate, Tumblr

In Hito Steyerl’s essay, “Defense of the Poor Image,” she suggests that the worth of a digital image could be judged on its speed and penetration rather than resolution. In this case, we would give the greatest worth to the poorest image of all, the GIF.

An early file format for the internet, the GIF could provide a simple animation without requiring a plug-in at a small file size. With the onset of Flash and greater bandwidth, the use of the GIF fell out of favor but endured on message boards and forums. It’s ability to portray small loops of visual data found a new life embedded in online conversations. Its resurgence is due to its ability to translate information into a distilled and often entertaining format. It stands in the place of words.

Vintage Dancing Baby GIF

In Wim Crouwel’s “Type Design of the Computer Age” he felt that the computers will bring the development of new characters and communication symbols. This has come to be, but not through reinventing fonts, but through the creation of memes, emoticons and reactionary GIFs. This could be the universal pictorial language that Charles Bliss was seeking with his Blissymbolics.

The speed and penetration images can obtain on the internet, also has concerns for the creator. Steyerl speaks to how piracy is a threat to mainstream channels but can also provide exposure to works that are considered less commercial. How does a creator balance the threat and the benefit?

The Falcon goes into hyperdrive.

Many digital copies are also cut, edited and transformed into new works. This could be considered transformative but it could be appropriating. In the age of social networks and fandoms, how does someone protect their work?

Tumblr is a social network built around the idea of microblogging. Small digestible bits of media, a quote or a link are shared amongst followers. It invites discourse through posts versus the long diatribes you see on other blog platforms. It is also known for its audience’s embrace of the GIF.

Hope you like cats…

Tumblr is known for posting quick little things, microblogging and lots of sharing of media. Is that how you guys see yourselves?

Zack: I always like how it was explained to me, and how I explain it when I am on panels. Whether you are a creator or someone who is passionate about something, you are a curator of content that you believe in.

It’s almost like creating a museum of my personal passions. When you go to my blog it’s about my dog, really tasty food or comics and animation. It encompasses process… And what I mean by process is how to make an illustration or something move. The platform really goes into that well... as that backend look at how things are made.

To really boil it down, it’s my own museum of what I like.

Amanda: The way we frame it from the marketing side, is that Tumblr is a place to share your passion. And you can be passionate about a TV show, about food, about dogs… But this is where you go to meet the people who share your interests. And really dive into the community of people who love the thing as much as you do.

Original Longcat

And to compare it to something like Pinterest… When I think of someone who is using Pinterest, it’s usually a mom looking for a recipe or someone looking for a workout, or someone looking for wedding stuff. Here on Tumblr, it is more like that fandom activity where people are looking for TV show gifs or the latest Honey post. You might find that on meme site, or FB, but Tumblr is where people get a little weird and shout out their deepest weird feelings about the thing that they love.

Zack: To add to that… I think it is about creating content to have a conversation. Which adds another layer and what I find fascinating (and we talk about this in our metrics panels) is that people are sharing feelings and posting entire conversations in tags or gifs. And driving this sense of unity... because “I feel that too”… I feel that same thing via this fandom or this thing happening in the world. Let’s connect and join together and have a community of friends strictly on the platform.

It’s almost like it’s own visual language with emoticons and the memes. You can really have a whole conversation.

Zack: I can pull conversations, and they are just all GIFs. We are just responding to each other based on reactions from our favorite types of media. It’s such a fascinating cultural thing that we have gotten ourselves into.

Gleeful Wonder Woman

Apple just installed a feature where can pull GIFs directly into your responses and making that more accessible. Seeing that trend being baked into other products and how Tumblr contributed to that, is a cool accomplishment.

Amanda: If you are thinking about a GIF as language, there is a really good talk by Kenyatta Cheese on how they have come to define language. And how it evolved both with the internet and as a file format.

Zack: He dressed as an internet meme… that blew my mind.

Amanda: The culture has involved so much. I just got back from a cat convention. While I was there I presented a talk on the history of cats on the internet.

We started 1998 with the first use of emoticon cats in Japan, then we go through Long Cat, Nyan Cat, LOL Cat and Pusheen. And in the back row of this event, there were these women with gray hair and they all had they all had their flat Instagram cats.

Nyan Cat

At the end, I asked everyone who had participated in this sort of thing to send their URL and posted them on screen. Most people had 10-20k followers on Instagram, including these older women who you wouldn’t think of as someone who is very active on social media, but here they are… Coming to a convention to meet people their “cat crew”… with the flat cats. They are really owning their identity on social media. And this very heavy image focused community of cats. It was a weird time.

Zack: I am so jealous…

I understand because I am crazy dog owner. My fiance runs a Groot, my dog, Instagram blog. It’s as if it’s him talking and enjoying the world.

She has created a persona of him where he is writing the blog and his followers have been increasing by 10-15 each week. That is pretty good because it is just a back-burner project. One post a day kind of thing. It’s just funny to see how it is contributing to that dog community. Other dog blogs follow him… which is like surreal to me. People doing the same exact thing with their dogs. And I find that awesome.

Pusheen!

What I find interesting about what you just said, Amanda, is that there is a history to the cats on the internet. It seems you are trying to give credit to people who created these images. There are so many floating around without regard for ownership... People taking things and appropriating ideas.

Zack: And that’s my department. I am a trust and safety agent and a community representative in terms of trust and safety. Part of the job is moderating anything that infringes on copyright, DCMA, and that inlcudes GIFs. Technically there has been no legal precedence over how a sense of ownership goes over a GIF.

Because they are almost transformative…

Zack:They are transformative enough to be your own content, so we are actually going to honor people’s ownership. We have certain policies and procedures that can prove that you created the GIF first. We all have that metadata, that is not user-facing. People often come back with “that is from a movie, how can they have ownership over a GIF.” One, there is no legal precedence and two, it is transformative enough by law to be considered fair use and their property.

It’s like sampling in music.

Zack: Yeah… It’s a very interesting case. For one, most people do not understand copyright law… like just the general public… Which is a challenge in itself. We can’t educate users because that will put us in a gray area if they misinterpret what we say. We can only point them in the right direction. So often we will be like “now is a good time to read about copyright law, here’s a link.” We give them more of an informed direction.

Need a Nap

There’s a lot of interesting things going on with people who are creating their own content on Tumblr in how we define that sense of ownership and who owns what. There was a famous court case where (and we love to tell this story at our panels at Comic-Con) a guy was traveling overseas and a monkey took his camera. The monkey took a bunch of pictures with his camera. Eventually, he got his camera back and posted the photos online. A bunch of outlets took the photo and posted it. He felt it was copyright infringement, but a judge ruled that because he didn’t take the pictures, it wasn’t. The monkey took the pictures and the monkey owned the copyright. And that’s it. You have to be the one to create the visual aspect. And that’s an interesting aspect to how we distribute content. Especially when it comes to photos.

And then there are certain parameters when it comes to the more dark web stuff… like privacy infringement. California specifically has changed privacy laws in response to the internet. We are generally heavy-handed when addressing privacy because we don’t want to be in the position of potentially breaking any laws. And that isn’t just photos. It’s phone numbers and other information that would not be public.

I could chew your ear off on policy all day…

How does a privacy policy work with memes?

Amanda: It’s so hard. I have been doing meme work now since 2011. We have shifted from “Oh, these are random images floating around the internet”, like Nyan Cat and Long cat. All of the old cat memes… No one knows the names of those cats or who owns those cats. It’s very hard to track down the information because someone just put it online on Funny Junk or some other site. People think that it can’t be traced back to me, because no one should know who I am on the internet.

Then as Facebook rolled out and the internet became more prevalent in our daily lives, things shifted. That’s when people became like “Oh, I have ownership of my internet content.” And that shift into “I own this and this is my copyright, and you can’t steal it.” has started happening. And we saw that as YouTube rose and the appearances of “Grumpy Cat”. That’s when the owners were like “This is my cat, this is my content I am making about my cat.” They got this micro-fame where they were able to turn it into money. You saw this with YouTubers like Tyler Oakley, who was able to build a brand on his internet content.

This was about the time when Fuck Jerry started to become popular. Fuck Jerry started on Tumblr as a meme repost site and Instagram account that steals everything from everywhere, and isn’t concerned with copyright. "It’s out there and now it’s mine". He has built a whole empire and made tons of money. His empire is built on stealing.

Haters Gonna Hate

There was also copyright issues around the dress. The dress that broke the internet. The girl who posted the photo did not take the picture and did not own the photo.

Zack: I remember that day because I was called down and asked: “Do you see this?” And I thought I was going crazy. I saw “blue/black”.

Amanda: I saw both… my eyes kept flipping back and forth… I really thought I was dying.

And the trend now is private facebook groups where people are making and sharing content. Then if it gets out and becomes a really big thing, do you want to admit that you made this thing in a secret FB group? The copyright thing gets blurry. Some people want to say “I own this thing and I am going to shout to the ends of the earth” and some are like “hmmm… I guess I made that. I am just going to step away from it and let the internet have it.”

Zack: There really are those two polar opposites. Working directly with it, there are people who understand the copyright laws and procedures. You swear an oath when you file a DMCA claim so we (Tumblr) are not liable. It’s a dispute between the two parties. But doing that scares a lot of people and that’s legitimate. There are people who say “I made this content” but I am not comfortable swearing an oath. Or I don’t have any proof of where it came from. There’s nothing we can do and it’s at the offending parties digression to remove the content.

Brain Freeze

The trend that I’ve been seeing, and you will see this in a lot of GIFs, people have their specific kind of signature. You’ll have these translucent tags to their blog or a copyright watermark symbol.

That trend has become more and more apparent because creators want that sense of ownership. It’s really a part of meme and GIF culture. We ask “How did you create this or make it look that way?” so we can confirm it is transformative. And then they can add a signature to it.

When we speak with artists, such as comic artists at our Comic-Con panels, we tell them “That’s the biggest thing you should do.” To prevent people from reposting or taking credit for your content, just add your name so it can’t be easily removed from the images or cropped out. It’s evolved to the point where people feel they need to protect what they create. Which is fair.

Protecting your ideas is important but there’s great benefit to people getting their stuff out there as well.

Zack: Certainly. Exposure is nice. If you are a creator and you want your content to be seen, you should put up as much as you can. If it ever comes to protecting your work, you do have that right.

I hear people say, “I don’t use Tumblr because my content is always reposted.” My response is that there is a team working around the clock to protect your content. You don’t have to file any type of government papers, as long as you are 100% sure that it’s your content, it’s safe. If that is someone’s reservation, what’s stopping you?

Every company legally has to have a team to protect from infringement and misattribution. Regardless.

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References/Links

Bad Monday

Steyerl, Hito. “In Defense of the Poor Image,” in The Wretched of the Screen. Eflux.com. Eflux, n.d. Web.

Kenyatta Cheese. “How Visual Media Affect Culture and Identity Globally”. You Tube: www.youtube.com/watch?v=PhN2Be4SPoE

Tumbler’s Fandometrics

Okrent, Arika. “In the Land of Invented Languages: A Celebration of Linguistic Creativity, Madness, and Genius”, Chapter 15, “Those Queer and Mysterious Chinese Characters”, pages 160-172. Spiegel﹠Grau Trade Paperbacks, 2010

Tumblr’s Meme Librarian Has the Best Job on the Internet. Washington Post.

How much is too much? Considering infringement

Further Exploration

Contents of Maggie Stiefvater’s Brain: Post on Piracy

Fandom | Funyuns | Onion Flavored Rings

Totino’s - Live Free. Couch Hard.

Gushers

FIAT USA: Archive

adamjk serious blog

drawing megan lynn

Check, Please!

Obama Transformative Piece

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tessatechaitea · 5 years

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Aquaman #1

In 1994, Aquaman was reduced to playing at State Fairs with only 1/3 of his original band.

It's as if the cover artist was only told that Aquaman would have long hair in this series three minutes before the cover was due. Or maybe Aquaman's insane hair is simply there to distract from whatever the fuck is going on with his legs. I know he loses a hand in this series but I didn't know he started off missing his left leg below the terribly misshapen thigh. Don't look so shocked that I own an Aquaman comic book! Think of it more as owning a Peter David comic book. And even Peter David couldn't keep me reading Aquaman because I only have two issues of this series. Cue King Beauregard linking to Ookla the Mok's song, "Arthur Curry," in the Disqus comment section. It's seems crazy to me that Aquaman has the worst costume of any major DC hero and yet he doesn't wear his underwear on the outside. Think about how unappealing the 1986 camouflage Aquaman suit must have been if editorial decided to go back to this orange and green eyesore? If I had been editing this comic book in 1994, I would have put this copy on the cover: "This isn't your father's Aquaman! This Aquaman is your father!" How did "long hair on an old guy with a full beard" translate into "Aquaman is super cool now, kids!"? I probably should just put this comic book back in its protective casing rather than read it since it's one of the few comic books I own that might be worth something. It's definitely in mint condition (or near mint since, you know, I breathed on it), probably because I never actually read it. I don't know for sure that I read it but it is an Aquaman comic book so Vegas is giving pretty shitty odds on my having read it. Unless I mean good odds? Which odds are good and which odds are bad? I would say shitty odds are things like winning one dollar for every five dollars bet. But that just means the odds of winning are good so that probably means they're good odds, right? So maybe read the opposite of what I wrote in that Vegas odds sentence.

"They" have never had a wet dream, apparently.

That previous caption might sound like I've eaten my own semen while having a wet dream but I totally didn't. That previous sentence might sound like I'm protesting too much but I don't know what that means and, anyway, you tasted your semen during your wet dream! Aquaman hopes he's dreaming but he can feel and taste and smell and remember and read, so he's pretty sure he's about to die. The way I know I'm dreaming is that when a dream becomes increasingly uncomfortable or horrific, I often think, "You know what? I bet this is just a dream!" And then I wake up. Which is totally a mistake! I need to train my brain to stop waking up once I realize I'm dreaming and start taking control of the dream. Although I'm not sure how enjoyable a dream would be if I were consciously in control of it. Then it's not a realy dream anymore and it just becomes an IMAX daydream. The great thing about dreams is that they're surprising. It's the only way a person can truly surprise themselves. Hallucinogenics help a bit but you're still in some kind of control. I once thought I invented comic books and that Jupiter was following me around a strip club parking lot while on mushrooms but I've never fucked a vampire as the sun rose and turned her to dust while I orgasmed like I've done in my dreams! Hey, some of my dreams might be problematic or completely gross but I didn't approve them! Like the one where I murdered the old lady so I could live in her house but I didn't want things to seem too suspicious by covering it up so I just propped her corpse up in the corner of the living room. Or the time a friend made me a personalized flavor of Moon Pie called "Murdered Baby's Soul." Dreams are like presidential campaign ads that don't have the candidate saying, "I approve this ad!", at the end of it.

Aquaman was dreaming. Also, he sleeps in a regular bed with sheets and blankets in a cave under the ocean. I would have had him sleeping in a giant clam shell with a manta ray comforter.

Garth visits Aquaman in his cave which isn't full of water so I guess the bed is forgivable. But it doesn't explain why Aquaman was floating over the bed tangled in his sheets. Maybe that will be explained in the post-Zero Hour continuity. Aquaman hasn't been seen in weeks and hasn't been answering his JL pager (Ha ha! Old technology! So funny!) so Aqualad has gone looking for him. He finds Aquaman sitting in his own filth and coral. He probably heard one too many jokes about speaking with fish and he's had it with topsiders.

Aquacave?! Guess who has Bat-Penis envy!

Garth was worried about Arthur and has come to help him which is why he begins screaming at him and pushing him around. I know being berated and treated like shit is the only way I've ever gotten any kind of breakthroughs in therapy. Garth and Arthur get in a fight and the art confirms that the cave is definitely filled with water. So that bed really doesn't make any fucking sense at all. At least it confirms that Aquaman isn't possessed by the devil. After Garth gets his ass kicked, Aquaman begins to feel better and is ready to go on an adventure with Aqualad. Oh, so that was Aqualad's plan! Smart kid whose willing to take a severe beating from a friend just to put a smile on their face. I never would have thought of that. I would have thought, "My friend is really feeling down! I should be empathetic and compassionate while listening to them vent their problems!" But now Peter David has taught me another way. Punch my depressed friends in the face so that they can have a good time fighting back! This is a game changer! Aqualad is on a military mission for the United States Government. A nuclear submarine has been sunk and it's lying too low on the ocean's bottom for the military to deal with it. For some reason, they think Aquaman, being the water guy, can handle a submarine leaking radioactive material. I'm just going to assume Superman was still dead at this point and Batman's back was still broken. I don't know why Wonder Woman wouldn't have been tasked for this mission unless it's just because the U.S. military is full of sexist jerks. Aquaman and Aqualad begin to investigate the ship when they're attacked by Lupo the Butcher.

Does Garth die?! That would make this Aquaman series cool!

Murder Chef was the one who requested Aquaman be sent on this mission. If the military didn't acquiesce, he was going to blow the nuclear submarine apart. I knew it was fucking suspicious that the military asked Aquaman for help! Even Aquaman should have known better! Aquaman is captured by Murder Chef who introduces himself as Charybdis. He wants Aquaman for his life force or something. Previous to capturing Aquaman, he's been draining Dolphin of her life force. I don't know anything about Dolphin except that she had nice nipples in her Who's Who entry. Let me dig it out and show you.

That diver just came in his scuba suit.

Don't be surprised or creeped out that this fact was lurking in my memory. I grew up in the pre-Internet era! You had to find sexually stimulating material wherever you could! And you were fucking grateful for it! This was as great a find as the succubus or the Type V demon in the D&D Monster Manual. Hell, I even jerked off to the Caryatid Columns in Fiend Folio! Aquaman #1 Rating: B. I might have given this issue an A+ but Dolphin lacked the visible nipples I'm used to her character exhibiting. But this issue still gets a worthy B because Garth was left bleeding in the ocean while the sharks circled. He's totally going to die, right? Although I never purchased Issue #3 so I'm guessing I was disappointed that Garth didn't die. Still, you'd think Aquaman losing his hand (spoiler for next issue!) would have kept me intrigued. I bet in 1994, I read this series and was all, "Fucking Aquaman! Like anybody actually cares about the environment! Fucking virtue signaler! [Sorry I Coined the Term "Manic Pixie Dream Virtue Signaler" in 1994 by Me] His excess of caring makes me love oil and corporations now! It's his fault I'm such a selfish asshole!" Man, I was pretty cool in 1994. Now I'm almost 100% pure virtue signaler! Oh, Aquaman! I judged thee by my youth alone and could not see past your idiotic power to speak with fish to lay my sight upon the wisdom of your passionate defense of our only world!

#Aquaman #Peter David #DC Comics #DC #Martin Egeland #Brad Vancata

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cryptoriawebb · 7 years

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My extensive, expansive Wonder Woman review

So I’ve been working on this for about a week now, and I’m pleased to say I’ve finally finished.

I didn’t expect this movie to resonate so deeply, so please, bare with me. I’ve got a lot to say.

Wow.

Just wow.

I am beyond blown away by Wonder Woman. I wanted so badly for it to be a good movie, beyond the reasons floating around on the internet. Yes, she is a female super hero, yes, she’s the first one in this modern era to receive a solo film and yes, and yes, in many ways, and yes, she’s the most well-known female hero, dating back to the Second World War. Those are all impressive and important things to recognize…but Wonder Woman, Diana, is so much more than simply an icon with impressive credentials. Going into this movie, I wanted to get to know her as a character, follow her along her journey; experience what she did and feel what she felt as she evolved from Amazonian princess into the wise and worldly hero protecting our modern world. I wanted to like her, vouch for her, the way I never did beyond my own cultural nostalgia. She was one of the few highlights in the train wreck that was Batman v Superman; I wanted more of that.

Needless to say, this movie delivered and more. Diana not only stood on her own, offering in my opinion a protagonist everyone could root for and relate to in some way, but she also existed harmoniously with her co-stars, forming real, heartwarming (and heartbreaking) relationships that evolved in what I believe was a natural way as she did as a character. There were so so many ways this movie could have gone wrong because of the socio-political environment in which it came to fruition; instead, we received a beautiful awe-inspiring piece of art. Perhaps it is my Greek blood speaking here, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a super-hero film delivered with such elegance. I’m not sure if it was the director, the script, Gadot herself or perhaps a combination…everything just worked…and for this new DC Universe, that’s really, almost impossibly impressive.

Don’t get me wrong, I actually enjoyed Suicide Squad and parts of Batman v Superman; it goes without saying, however, neither were enough to survive for long in this age of Super Hero cinema. For Suicide Squad, there just wasn’t enough even or original momentum, and B v S…well, that should’ve stayed a little longer on the editing table. Even Man of Steel, one exhausting fight sequence aside, isn’t praised or remembered like Marvel Studios and even some of the X-men films are. I think Wonder Woman is different. I think it will stand the test of time. Not just because she’s the first female with a solo film…but because there really is a film here. A fluid finished picture with an even pace, balanced tone and as much heart as there is action.

I thought opening the film with narration worked very well. It’s such an iffy tactic in any genre, and so far I’ve only really seen it in the X-men films. Sometimes it’s worked (X1, Days of Future Past) and sometimes, not quite as efficiently (X-men Apocalypse.) Overall though, they’ve done a decent example; some movies, like Disney’s more recent Cinderella film I felt relied far too heavily on narration, ‘telling’ where ‘showing’ would have done the job just fine. One could argue perhaps this was done intentionally, adhering to the ‘fairy tale’ technique; I disagree. I found it distracting. I thought Wonder Woman’s use enhanced the film. It presented us with tone of voice, foreboding the pending tone of the film as well as who she was to become. In contrast to the X-men films, which use the technique to warn of heartbreak and disaster, Diana’s voice contained a hint of pain grounded in an almost maternal knowledge, a teacher from antiquity’s time preparing a lesson for her student viewers. This was all done without stating too much or sounding cliché. My attention held and I looked forward to the next scene.

I’d also like to point out I thought the visual choices to accompany this audio worked as well. We see a glimpse of present-day Diana in BvS, and we know she’s lived a very long time (I still maintain that revelation should have remained a post-credits scene, and Wonder Woman herself, however cool she was, should not have appeared beyond the photograph.) It almost adds to the excitement, at least in my case, knowing her origins would take us back not only to 20th century wartime, but to the ancient world as well. Not only because, again, I am Greek, but because I love the idea of heroes existing before the modern era, seeing how they affect an older world and their importance. World War I is something of an area of fascination for me, although I admit I’d thought at first they’d have set the film during the 1940s. I wonder if that was to separate from Captain America. I’m only familiar with her basic information and backstory; recent comic history and adjustments are beyond me.

I loved the architectural choices for Themyscira. Very clearly Greek-inspired but with an exotic flair all its own. I will say, as someone who has studied Greek art over the years, technically, the synonymous white should have historically been painted…but this is fiction, and as fiction, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited by how very in line with antiquity it was as it was. I’m not sure what I was expecting; Diana’s armor contains notable Greek accents…perhaps it’s simply how I’ve seen her and her Island portrayed before, drawing from Mythology by name and character without doing so historically. We all want to see our roots up there on the screen, and this was the first time in a long time I really felt like I was outside of a loose adaption or certain romantic comedies. As someone with a strong affinity for Super heroes, well, this means a lot to me. But moving on.

I’m also impressed by how well the Amazons blended the lines of beauty and ferocity (or is it sex-appeal and practicality?) They were sexy, unmistakably, but to me it did not appear as though they were designed with that as the primary thought. They were sexy because they were fierce, beautiful because of the natural, historical sense in their design—or what I imagine as much history one can put into a mythological race. They weren’t super-model skinny or movie-star-glamorous, and yet these women carried about them a fearsome power I personally felt unworthy of. This of course extends to Diana and her iconic armor. None of her accessories felt corny or outdated to me, even the lasso, which I was a tad wary about. My association with it comes from dated comics and cartoons; I wasn’t sure it would translate seriously into this modern era. I think the director handled its inclusion perfectly, adding humor whenever as Pine’s character struggled to resist (or prove himself honest) and demonstrating its later use as a weapon against Ares. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’m so relieved Diana’s true purpose remained a secret until the end. I know some more learned fans than I have complains about the chosen direction, but I’ll get into that later. I’ve seen a lot of movies reveal far too much before needed and it really hurts the film. X-men Apocalypse, for example. However it pains me to talk down about my beloved X-men films, so many scenes talked through too much too early on, harming the pace and suspense of the film. If they had been removed I know for certain the movie would have done much better. Wonder Woman did none of this…which is actually very embarrassing for both Singer and Kinberg in comparison. In hindsight, it’s very, very impressive for both a lesser-known director and a character who hasn’t been given a fair (or successful, if we count that one pilot) solo screen-time venture since the 1970s.

To go along with her purpose, I loved that the Mythology/ancestry/storytime sequence resembled Renaissance art. I’m sure at this point it goes without saying but so many Greek Myths were illustrated and interpreted during the Renaissance period; in this particular case, I thought of Michaelangelo’s work on the Sistine Chapel, specifically the Creation of Adam and the Last Judgment. I know neither of them feature Greek mythology, but the style and articulation in the film really felt reminisce of Michelangelo. I like this artistic choice in direction; shooting a live action sequence would have felt grittier and clunky while none at all might have dragged and failed to grip the viewer’s attention in the same way. Plus, Diana is a child, and one from antiquity; choosing to illustrate the story like a story, as well as in a style reminisce of a time period that heavily featured antiquity as its subject fit perfectly.

Before I move ahead to the second half of Diana’s journey, I’d like to say I’m glad Hippolyta and her sister were close. They did not agree with everything, but there were no signs of dangerous tension (a la Thor and Loki, Charles and Raven, or taking it back to the 90s with Scar and Mufasa.) I’ve seen enough sibling drama in the movies; it was nice to see their conflict presented in a mature way that did not push their relationship past a breaking point. I loved that Antiope genuinely loved Diana and did not train her for personal or selfish gain. I will say her death didn’t resonate as deeply with me as it might have if she’d played a larger role in the movie but returning to Themyscira would have bogged down the pace. This is an origin film and if someone isn’t betrayed, they’ve got to lose a loved one; I wasn’t happy of course, but I guess if I had to pick I would rather Diana’s mentor go because a) it illustrates the importance of different bonds and b) I am tired of the whole ‘death of a parent kickstarts a hero on their journey.’ I know Antiope was Diana’s aunt but it wasn’t quite the same thing. I also like how this tragic ‘passing of the torch’ didn’t hang over Diana’s head the way it could have; she wasn’t a hardened, brooding heroine. Antiope died for love, and was in many ways the first step (unless you count the tale of Zeus protecting the Amazons) to her eventual drive to protect and fight for love. I know saying it like that sounds like a magical girl but I in no way think anything about this movie falls within that realm. There’s nothing pop culture or cliché in Diana’s character and I’ll get to that in a minute.

I thought Diana was the right amount of naïve, if that makes any sense. She wasn’t ditzy and the mistakes and little embarrassments she caused Steve and Etta were cute and quirky as opposed to cringe-worthy. I didn’t expect her to know of men, being the only Amazon born on Themyscira; I’m really glad she and the others weren’t treated like archaic idiots by the director or Chris Pine. I guess I was expecting something a little more similar to Thor’s treatment in his first film, which, while funny, earned him this ‘dopey puppy’ stereotype that’s really overshadowed any depth he’s gained in the MCU. I was also pleased to see Hippolyta was able to see Diana’s side of things, or rather, place her bond with her daughter over fear for her safety. I’ve seen so many films and TV shows where the rigid, overprotective parent becomes unlikeable.

On the flipside, I’m also glad her intellectual and physical abilities did not corrupt her view of man. She never once held herself in a pretentious, superior manner. This is something I’ve unfortunately seen in a lot of media of late…I adore this influx of female protagonists beyond the realm of…well, I guess Diana is a princess but she’s also a warrior and superhero. That said, it’s a personal turn-off when they’re treated above their male co-stars and see themselves as such. I want a good female protagonist as I said, but not if they’re going to act like they’re better than everyone else. There’s nothing, at least not to me, relatable or likeable in that. I’m not stupid; don’t pander to me like I am.

Diana, fortunately, breaks the mold yet again. There was only one moment I can recall that might be taken as intended superiority; when she was discussing her knowledge of men with Steve, how they were necessary for procreation but not so much for pleasure. While she seemed to know he probably wouldn’t like the consensus it came more from a courteous (if not somewhat humorous) place, rather than haughty superiority. That and much of what Diana said in that regard she likely took from not only her reading but her elders, growing up. Which in itself might be a form of naïveté but I’ll take it over a high-and-mighty attitude. I will say I found the ‘slave’ comment a bit out of place and (going out on a limb here) deliberately for the audience. It was like ‘and now we’re going to step away from ‘Diana-vision’ and insert ‘21st century activism. Please stand-by.’ I know why they threw it in, and I’m sure Diana said it with the same honesty she did everything else, but that one thing specifically didn’t work for me.

Another example superiority could have infiltrated her character: reading Doctor Poison’s stolen book. Diana seemed genuinely surprised no one else could read it, and given her origins, it wasn’t surprising. This evolved into a more amusing scene later on, using her language to elude the flirtatious Sammy. By then (kudos, character development) she’s gotten some idea not everyone has this skill, so it makes sense, as she grows more familiar in her surroundings, that she’d want to stop him in his tracks by literally making him eat his words. Yet again, there’s no malice or pretentiousness. Instead, a playful challenge ensues, with Diana emerging the victor. I admit, when Diana started speaking ancient Greek (provided that was, of course, ancient Greek) I squealed a little bit. It really is a personal thing but I just love how much this version of Wonder Woman and Themyscira embody their mythological/historical roots. Even though she wasn’t at the top of my superheroine list before (but damn, that’s definitely changing) I’ve always had an affinity for Wonder Woman because of her origins. She’s the beautiful, powerful and empathic Greek heroine I’d love to be, if only in essence.

But I digress.

I was a little worried about Chris Pine’s character, going into this. As noted above, I was afraid both Diana and the director would use this movie as an opportunity to belittle his importance, as well as the role of the ‘standard male protagonist.’ Thank Hera that wasn’t the case. Steve Trevor had his faults and humorous quirks but he was equally important and well-rounded. I admit, I take the first World War very seriously (well, all wars, but the First was such an unnecessary, heartbreaking mess I’m a little defensive in its regard.) So with that said, I was so, so impressed by him. He reminded me a lot of Steve Rogers, except of course, without the excessive stubbornness. He was stubborn, but it didn’t transcend into the comic book realm which is an odd thing to say, I know for a comic book movie. I guess I mean that I could have seen him star in a period piece without Amazons and Greek gods and still felt the same about his performance. He was a man, a man of the times, but a good, honest man who’d seen a lot and would do anything to stop even some of the senseless killing. He saw mankind for what it was, the good and bad—his speech about wanting one individual to blame really resonated. I think a lot of us in life believe we could blame the bad things on one particular individual…and I’m sure so many people during the Great War thought that as well. I’ve been trying to articulate just how Steve helped Diana become who she is; it’s so simple but complicated at the same time, so unlike any relationship I’ve seen in a superhero film. He didn’t transcend time to speak with an elder version of himself, didn’t banish her to Earth and shatter any familial bond…he just loved her. Believed in her. And in the end, sacrificed himself for both. I may not be one for the love interest sub-plot but my gosh, it played out so beautifully here.

When I first jotted down my initial thoughts about the movie, I kept drawing comparisons to Tarzan, only in reverse, with Time separating Diana from the rest of the world, as well as remote location. I can see now that was a very, very trimmed down comparison and almost…not insulting but simplified their characters and the bond they shared. Steve and Diana might be from different worlds, and Diana, as I said, was a little naïve, but Steve, too, underestimated her; they grew together as the film progressed, as equals. Only instead of Jane returning to the jungle with Tarzan, Diana remains in Steve’s world, fighting for the people he found so important, and who she believes are worth protecting, too.

I really liked the supporting cast as well. As I said, I’m a little sensitive about World War I and I think having such a diverse cast of characters really helped emphasize how encompassing it was, and how many different people suffered, because. Sammy was probably my favorite, but Charlie especially pulled at my heartstrings. I don’t know anything about these characters, if they exist outside the DC Expanded Universe or if they were specifically crafted for the film; correct me if I’m wrong but it seemed implied that Charlie’s character was once a soldier, perhaps earlier in the war, but trauma, like it did to so many at the time, shook his core. I’ve read and researched a lot about this war; it was the first ‘modern’ war with ‘modern’ weapons…and the first where Shell shock/PTSD really gained professional attention. I wish we’d learned more about Charlie, it isn’t often you see the staple ‘comic relief’ character backed by such tragedy. All of them, I’d have liked to spend more time with. For that reason I almost wish in some way the franchise in itself could stay in this time period. Alas, it’s not to be.

Oh, there is something else I’d like to point out, although I’m not sure where to fit it, exactly: the scene Diana reads from Doctor Poison’s journal illustrates, at least I think, the divide between the soldiers at the time and those from whom they took orders. Disregarding Ares for a second, I was really happy, although that’s not quite the right word, to see this included. So many people died precisely because those in higher power rarely set foot on the battle field. They remained in large part oblivious to trench conditions; to them, soldiers were expendable pawns in a political game.

Now then.

Diana’s run through No Man’s Land has to be my favorite scene. Not only is it the first time we really see ‘Wonder Woman’ in action but there’s so much power behind it because of the history I actually cried. I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened out there, a hundred year ago in the trenches, if a brave Amazonian warrior had stormed No Man’s Land and ceased the gunfire so expertly. It does pain me a little to say that; I don’t believe any soldier on either side should take the blame for what happened a hundred years ago. Nonetheless, the Germans were painted as the enemy for most of the film (until you consider Ares trying to stall their armistice from the opposing side) so in lieu of that, I did cry when the soldiers rallied behind Diana.

My personal feelings about this period aside, she looked amazing. And by amazing, I mean badass. Deflecting bullets, braving fire with her shield, the way she just maneuvered on the field…I know she’s named after Artemis but she reminded me strongly of Athena, at least, how I envision her. It was just so…cool, to see her out there, see how far her character has come in media. While I am not an activist, nor do I seek political refuge in my movies I couldn’t help but like, feel a sense of pride, watching this female super hero take charge, watching everyone follow her lead and depend on her. It was like…I was seeing everything I wanted in a heroine. With the exception of X-men’s Rogue, who has always been my favorite female hero (disregarding the movie interpretation.) Not only that, but in that moment I really felt like I finally connected to Wonder Woman herself. I know I’ve emphasized my heritage and her redesign before, so I won’t go into that. There’s more to it, personal things I’m not comfortable discussing…but this incarnation is a big deal to me for so, so many reasons. I can’t thank Gal Gadot and Patty Jenkins enough for bringing her to life.

Okay…let’s get back into this.

There is one little thing I wasn’t super thrilled with, but for this movie and in this context, it worked wonderfully. I’ve said my piece about the love interest and why I don’t mind Steve and Diana falling in love, I just…have issues with implied sex scenes. And it isn’t a political thing or a religious thing, it’s more...at least I think it’s along the lines of things I’d, at least for now, prefer not to discuss. So I’ll say in general I don’t care for it but it does work and I can’t fault the film because I know it worked. Just a personal thing.

I’m going to talk about Ares now.

I did not see that revelation coming. Maybe I should have, but I expected something along the lines of ‘Ares has been watching silently the entire time and suddenly booming laughter erupts and the ground parts and glows like lava; suddenly the god of war appears, sinister approval hanging from his lips.’

I much prefer how things actually played out. I’ve seen and read a lot of media featuring the Greek Gods and not once was Ares ever portrayed as a ‘posh British man.’ I think there’s a lot of symbolism in that; both in regards to the war itself and, if you want to go there, perhaps in this modern era itself. I’m going to talk about this in context of WWI because again, I want no part of modern political activism. In the war, as I said, the Elites controlled the strings. They gave orders their army had little choice but to carry out and rarely did they involve themselves directly. Some of them, upon realizing what was actually going on, were struck with horror. Others didn’t understand or care. Ares falls under the latter. I mentioned it before but the history fan in me would have liked to see more of this interpretation of the war itself, the people—civilians, soldiers and even the elites—and seen the struggle inflicted by Ares’ influence, how the armistice stalled and all. The super hero fan in me is more than okay with how the film played out. This is Diana’s movie, after all.

It was a teeny bit difficult to see this prim and proper man in full battle gear, only because, apart from maybe Ian McKellen’s Magneto (and even then, it’s not the same) I’ve never seen a live-action comic book villain portrayed that way. It’s jarring, but fascinating, too. It also fits into the overall elegance of the film. I wouldn’t expect someone like Loki or Apocalypse to show up in Wonder Woman’s world. Not to say she couldn’t handle them, because let’s be honest, that would be one badass fight. It’s more like…I don’t know. Historical context. Perhaps their ancient, otherworldly blood. Anything else would have hampered the tone and created a clunky feeling. Besides, we got to see his indirect brutality in the form of Doctor Poison’s gas. This Ares, until the end it seemed, was the puppeteer who kept his hands behind his back, free of blood. I loved it. Alternative interpretations rock the boat and keep things fresh. Even the final battle felt different, as odd as it was to see this Englishmen throwing punches in his blocky armor. Their representation also served to illustrate that ‘ancient elder figure’ trying to teach or tame the ‘reckless younger.’ That I have seen a lot in this genre, saw it recently in Guardians of the Galaxy 2. Diana, however, is such a different character from Peter Quill, and Ares, while on similar lines to his father whose name escapes me right now, is his own kind of destructive, with his own brand of motive that, like his half-sister, distinguish him from Marvel’s Celestial Kurt Russell.

There are two small qualms I have with the climax. The first is Ares’ revelation: Diana is the god-killer, not the sword. I don’t know why, but the impact failed to stick the way I wanted it to. Maybe because I’m unfamiliar with her New 52 origins, and I actually expected her to be Ares’ daughter (fun Mythological fact, the Amazons were actually Ares’ children, but I know that’s not the case in DC.) I thought perhaps Hippolyta kept the truth from her because she knew if Ares discovered he had a child he would try to corrupt her. Which I guess played out in some form anyway, even if she wound up being Zeus’ daughter instead. I’m okay with that; as I said before, Diana reminds me of Athena, also a child of Zeus, and came to be through unconventional means. I guess it’s just strange to me, to see so compassionate a character without the same tragedy circling Bruce and Clark…then again, I do primarily watch Marvel (and X-men) films and they practically wrote the book on character heartache. I mean, discovering the horrors of the mortal world and losing Steve are tragic, I guess I just expected something more? Perhaps more emphasis on the god-killer itself, or for greater impact when Diana found out. Did she know Zeus was her father? Or did she take her mother’s story in a more figurative sense? I know (the nurse?) was surprised to see her injuries so quickly healed, so I’m going to guess Diana herself wasn’t aware. That may be why I didn’t feel the same punch I was supposed to; I got a bit confused. Either way, I love Diana the way she is; we don’t need another jaded DC hero.

Before I forget, I want to give a shout-out to the human villains, too. Perhaps it was the era or the tone of the film but I personally felt that Doctor Poison and Ludendorff belonged in a German Expressionist film from the 1920s and 1930s—in a good way. I’ve seen a lot of old ‘mad science experiments gone awry’ films, some American, some British and some, of course, German. Doctor Poison especially, with her mask, and characterization felt very reminisce of Doctor Mabusa or Caligari. Again, it could have been the setting of the film, but I don’t know…their motives mixed with the overall elegance of the film felt very close to that old school horror I so love. I really wanted to know more about Poison’s mask, what happened to her face (although I’m assuming we’re to imply her work damaged her, physically, at some point.) Ludendorff was more the standard villain, something you might find out of SHIELD, but that they worked together, that he sort of…not spoke for her, but seemed to run the operation coincided with that same horror; two sides of the brain; the mad and the meticulous. Together, a fluid recipe for chaos.

I thought the final fight was awesome. Diana goes all out and we really get to see just how this twenty-first century Wonder Woman stands apart from her previous interpretations (movie and TV specifically.) As I stated earlier, I used to think Diana’s accessories and costume were, admittedly, a little cheesy and gimmicky. I don’t have the same nostalgic fondness for Diana that a lot of people do, I’m sure. I was too young to watch the live-action series and as I also said I never really connected with her animated version. This film for me rewrote my previous opinions. Her bracelets, and especially her lasso are awesome and the perfect aid for her. Of course BvS helped, but she was hardly in that movie and shoe-horned additions aren’t the same as a solo journey. On Ares’ end, there was also an appropriate amount of lightning. BvS completely overdid the lightning, to such a point it gave me a headache. Here, such effects felt appropriate for each character. With one tiny little exception: Diana’s grief.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved the direction they took Steve’s final moments, and his death hit so many poignant marks. Even though I kind of expected him to die, because he was so prevalent throughout the film part of me almost thought he might survive at the last moment, spared by Zeus or something. I’m glad he didn’t. A hundred years have passed, and I just don’t see her living with Steve until he died of old age. I do, however, feel like I missed something when it came to Diana’s grief. It felt almost too sudden, too explosive and while it didn’t go over my head, it was like preparing for an undertow that failed to carry me all the way under. I’d like to see this movie again, see if I can figure out why that failed to strike. The DCEU is known for their flimsy editing choices; to find it in an otherwise well-done film is surprising. So perhaps it isn’t a creative choice, but something I personally missed. I’ll have to go back and watch it.

The only other gripe I have, and it is a small one, is the CGI. At least 95% of it translated successfully, from the lighting to the slow-motion (which isn’t really CGI but an effect nonetheless.) Kudos to the slow-motion, by the way. While used more than it probably ought to be, Diana looked so damn cool I don’t care. I was, however, bothered a bit by how evident the computer generated effects came into play whenever she was thrown or jumped into the air. It’s a small thing, but bothered me no less. I love watching these super beings call upon their powers. It’s something I’ve always wished I could do, so the noticeable imagery took me out of the moment. To go along with that, the last shot of the film lingered for far too long. I’m not sure what alternative might have fixed it, I just know it lingered because it felt long, and when some portion of a film feels long to the audience it’s generally a sign something’s got to be reworked or cut. Maybe fading to black and then having Diana’s voice linger instead…I’m not sure.

There is one last thing I’d like to talk about: Diana’s declaration she believed in love. I didn’t intend to leave it until the end, things just sort of unfolded that way. It is important though, so perhaps discussing it now is a good note to end on. I have seen so, so many movies, read so many books and watched enough TV I know how overused that concept is for a character’s turning point. Whether it be someone like Chris Eccleston’s Doctor, who may not believe in love necessarily but learned how to embraced it enough to die for it, or Kiara’s understanding of ‘we are one,’ or even the overall presiding theme of classic films like the Princess Bride. It’s everywhere, it’s been everywhere for a long, long time. So how this movie managed to use it, say it point blank, and avoid the expectant groan is beyond me. It’s so fitting, right? Female heroine falls in love and becomes a stronger individual for it. I hate that concept (I’m sorry, I do) but it works so well here. So well in fact that a small part of me cheered and a part of my heart hurt. It’s been nearly a week and I’m still baffled by my reaction. Maybe it’s this new connection I have with Diana, or something about her character and the little details in her journey that stand her apart from other heroes. Maybe I’ve become so embittered by my own life that finding someone like her (someone, again, I’ve learned to connect with) understanding at last these flawed humans through her lost love and his sacrifice instead of seeing this world strictly as good vs bad…or perhaps it is the world I live in now. A world so stirred by blind, rigid hatred with no room for that deeper understanding. Whatever it is, again I say, kudos to Patty Jenkins and kudos to Gal Gadot. You’ve successfully recruited me aboard the Wonder Woman fanboat. Never in a million years did I see that coming.

I’m sorry everyone, I didn’t expect this to be so long: this movie just hit so many buttons for me, both nerdy and emotional…which I guess sums up Wonder Woman’s overall appeal. She’s ancient and brazen, feminine and empathic: she’s a woman in every sense of the word and that is her greatest strength.

#wonder woman #wonder woman 2017 #diana prince #wonder woman review #steve trevor #doctor poison #returnedtothecrypt

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jordanwinslow-blog1 · 8 years

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There are hundreds of tools out there for sequencing drum samples, editing existing drum loops, and mapping samples together to create original sounds made from layers but how many of these tools are actually necessary to create a quality drum loop for your production? The answer is not as many as one might think. A mistake many new producers make is being (rightfully) overwhelmed with all the possibilities during beat creation and overusing plugins, unnecessarily increasing the complexity of their production, demanding more from their system resources and slowing down their creative flow. There are about 10,000 different ways to make a drum loop with today’s technology but you really only need a few core tools to get the job done within your DAW (Digital Audio Workstation) of choice. Avoid loops unless you are on a time constraint. Though it may be tempting to open up a drum loop in your editor and splice it into individual samples (a technique often used in hip-hop) this generally degrades the quality of the individual samples and limits the scope of what you are able to do. Instead, start with a quality set of samples that don’t need much editing to begin with. I like the vengeance kits floating around on the internet, and there are many free sample kits out there which have well-mixed drum samples to start with. From there, decide which genre your drums will be, and lay out a framework of where you want your kicks, snares, hats, etc. to be placed as a general guideline (knowing full-well you will be moving these samples around, and will be replacing your original choices with better-suited samples later.) After creating a very simple loop with only 1 sample per type of drum (1 kick, 1 snare, 1 closed hihat, 1 open hihat, etc.) this sets you up to create a quality sequence of how you want the drums to play out without worrying about the actual SOUND of the drums as they currently are (it will no doubt sound a bit silly, and perhaps low quality, when you grab some random kicks, snares, etc. just to begin with) After you have a decent sequence you can start replacing the samples with ones that fit the genre you are going for. Replace all the samples with sounds that match your song, one at a time. Layer your snares and claps. One sample will almost always not be enough to achieve the sound you are looking for, don’t be afraid to double, triple, or even quadruple up on your snares and claps, just be sure to lower the volume of each sample so they do not make your volume exceed the red-zone on your output (this is called clipping and aside from potentially damaging your speakers, it causes undesirable distortion to your drums and makes them sound less dynamic.) There are tools that link your drums together for you such as Native Instrument’s Battery, many native tools built into your DAW, and a plethora of others. Though these tools can be useful for managing your sequence (and you will undoubtably need at least one tool to help you manage your drums all in one place rather than editing them on the linear DAW editor screen) it is often unnecessary and limiting to begin linking your samples together in complex ways to trigger together in sequence unless you are planning on taking this live and performing your drums on a piece of hardware. All I use for my drum sequencing is Native Instruments Maschine, I create the loops, add very basic EQ and effects, control their envelopes such as release, attack, sustain, etc. (more on that later) and then I export them directly into Ableton or Cubse where I decide when they will trigger in my song, and manually cut them up when I want silence rather than relying on fancy tricks built into Maschine’s software. While you are choosing your samples, use the R or Release knob to determine how long the drum sample will play AFTER the “note” ends. This can be used to cut off unnecessary reverb, effects, or simply shorten a sample to be more punchy (often used in Electro and House music, or hip-hop to create tight and controlled beats). Use the S or Sustain knob to determine how long a drum sample will play while the “note” is being held. If you lower the sustain, even if the note continues on forever, the sample will end quicker the lower your sustain value is. Use the A or Attack knob to determine how fast a sample will rise in volume after the “note” is hit. This is useful for cymbols to create that rising sound before a climax or to take some of the edge off a kick that is coming in too strongly. View Attack as an upward ramp / gradually rising in volume and view Release as a downward ramp lowering in volume. These effects are called Envelope effects and they are how you control any sample in a DAW. After you have a solid set of samples you are decided upon, and you have edited their envelopes to create a tight mix, you are ready to add effects to bring out their sound to make them sound more dynamic, punchy and have the tonal qualities your genre uses. Compression – This is how you will control the tightness of your drums, preventing them from exceeding a certain volume (threshold) while raising their overall perceived loudness (gain). Use this sparingly, and if in doubt, just throw it on the “BUS” or “Group” your drums are assigned to, and very lightly lower the threshold, and increase the gain so you start to see just a little bit of reduction taking place. Compressors are very complex and deserve a course all to themselves so if you are not familiar with how they work, simply throw a limiter on your mix and LEAVE IT ALONE, don’t go knob crazy until you understand how everything works. Limiting – Limiting is how modern dance producers flatten and destroy the dynamics of their tracks so their song looks like a solid rectangle on soundcloud when viewing the waveform. It is also how professionals raise the perceived “loudness” of a track without increasing the actual volume. Using a limiter is only for cutting off the very loud parts of a mix that would otherwise exceed your red zone (0dB) and cause clipping. If you are seeing a lot of reduction going on when you turn on your limiter than you need to lower the volume of your individual tracks until very little reduction is taking place with your limiter. Reverb – Reverb is how you will make your snares and hats sound like they are in an actual room instead of sounding flat and lifeless. Keep your “wet” value around 20-30% as a general rule of thumb, not exceeding 30% except to create unique effects or for stylistic usage in tracks such as dubstep snares. A little reverb goes a long way to making your drums sound more realistic. But for god’s sake, leave the reverb off your kick unless you raise the cutoff so you aren’t muddying up your mix with unnecessary bass reverb. Next week we will talk more in depth about what each of these effects do, how to control them in-detail and techniques you can use to make your drums pop out of the mix without completely overpowering all your other sounds. Thanks for reading! This article was written by Jordan Winslow, an Electronic Music Producer & Composer based in Los Angeles, California. Jordan has been producing electronic music for over 12 years and currently works as a freelance artist, producing music for vocalists, bands, and composing music for film, TV and video games. To hear music by Jordan look him up on Youtube, Soundcloud, or visit his personal website where you can hear his entire portfolio @ http://JordanWinslow.me #101

#edm #producer #tutorial #ableton #maschine #nativeinstruments #beatmapping #beats #dj #electronica #hiphop #electronicmusic #dance #trap #drums #jordanwinslow

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theoryofthefalls · 8 years

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TOTF Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: The Author

Author: @moonbeamjean Wordcount: 9.8K Summary: Jessica finds herself face to face with a page in The Journal that paints Bill in an unflattering light. Much like the unflattering light and dust that’s clogging up the newly discovered spare room in the Mystery Shack.

A/N: This chapter is a nice exploration of some of the friendships that Jess has in Gravity Falls and the kind of roads they will take. Bill of course is a downhill spiral of deception and manipulation, but there’s also Dipper, McGucket, Kiara, Grunkle Stan, and yes, even early clues to ‘The Author’ that she’s only going to realise months down the line. Thank you so much for waiting on the update, and I hope you enjoy!

A whole month was gone now. Weeks worth of Summer were vanishing faster and faster, and Jessica Jean felt like she was becoming bigger than her bones. There was still fun in the ordinary life and sun of Gravity Falls, for sure. Dipper and Mabel seemed to have adventures every day of the week. What was the latest one? Oh yeah. Time Travel. That was possible now. Just casually thrown in there, along with a new pig, while Jess was running a Kissing Booth for Stanford Pines’ silly carnival games. But at least her ache of jealousy was dying. The power Bill gave her was being practiced more and more, and her little secret was spilling out beyond just the twins and Kiara.

Soos was the fourth person to find out about the little taste of witchcraft. Jess needed his help for a particular dance video and, well, she kind of had to explain how she could just summon a J-Pop cosplay out of thin air. Wendy was next - sneaking out onto the rooftop at sunset to find the blonde floating above the roof-tiles talking to ‘herself’. And then Mabel made those two new friends, Candy and Grenda, and suddenly every second day was being spent playing fairy dress-ups, re-enacting romance movies, and summoning glitter out of nowhere. But that was it. No more people had to know about this. It was supposed to be a secret, and she shouldn’t have been putting it on as a performance at their command (apparently, by Bill’s morals at least.) Still, she could float in front of more people now, which was relaxing. It was so easy to just slip out of focus and relax mid-air, drinking some Pit Cola in the warm glow of Summer, not having to worry about somebody finding her.

Now that the ‘Mystery Twins’ had their own channel and she was actually spending time with them, the videos kept coming and coming and coming. She could upload now on a nearly bi-weekly schedule. And the views were getting good! The small amount of money being made from the ads and watches was turning from a couple of cents into a couple of dollars. If Jessica didn’t have the power to infinitely spawn bills out of her hand, she probably would have celebrated this a little more. In fact, one of her most popular videos was just her slapping her hands together like at a strip club and spawning an infinite amount of green notes. She would have kept them, too, if Stanford hadn’t been heard around the corner at the sound of free money and she had to make it all disappear in a blink.

The only one who seemed to be both skeptical and awed was Dipper. That was no surprise. Originally, the friendship between them was a quiet, awkward, and scarce thing. He would ask the blonde for the video-camera, once even asking about her film degree and what her classes were like. That was a nice afternoon on the back porch. But now that Jess was out of the super-powered closet, there seemed to be a new kind of awkward interaction that the boy took joy in.

“This is Dipper Pines’ Guide to the Unexplained!” he announced into the silver cam-corder. It was the hottest day of Summer, and the babysitters were talking outside on the front porch. The boy scrambled around the nest of prepared notes and evidence - Journal 3, Mabel’s scrapbook of Summer adventures and romances, small piles of glitter and confetti from previous videos. Finally he found a page in Mabel’s book, a polaroid collection of Jess and Kiara Phoenix at the fair, sharing popcorn and the blonde making vulgar smooch-faces to the girl’s disposable camera. “Anomaly Number 38: Jessica Jean.

“She came along with our old babysitter, KP, to look out for us this Summer, and sometime between arriving here and four weeks ago, managed to obtain amazing, nearly limitless magical abilities! Like some kind of over-powered fairy godmother, she’s used this (as you’ve probably seen) for makeovers, saving us from crazy fake psychics, and cleaning around the house!” Dipper remembered the footage he’d sneakily caught of Jess around the Shack, her feet off the ground and reaching up to the tall cabinets of the kitchen. He’d have to splice it in somehow. Or hell, he’d have to edit this whole video together without the babysitter noticing.

Maybe he could borrow Soos’ computer? That would be a challenge for later. Dipper picked up the camera, and with a determined expression he approached the bedroom window. His voice lowered to a whisper. “I have various theories, none of which add up to the stories that she’s given us. It seems to change every time I ask!” He lifted the cam-corder to the windowpane and focused on the two girls standing below by the yellow car. “First it was mystic runes, then she said it was a fairy, and then she said she was a teen witch all along! And then one time—! One time Jess was just like, ‘Oh powers? What powers? I don’t have any!’, which was so frustrating, and—“

Dipper froze. KP was there, looking up at the window into the attic bedroom he and Mabel shared. In fact, it looked for a minute that she was staring right at him. Dressed in her oversized board shorts and tight but covering rashie, she had her had covered the sun from her eyes and staring at something just above the boy’s head. But the real creepy part was the fact that Jessica Jean, subject of the video, was no longer standing there.

“BOO!!!”

He screamed, nearly dropping the camera. Jess didn’t seem to mind, watching him scramble back and bumping his elbow into the frame of his bed. “Hahahaha!!! Oh, man…!!” Gently, gently, she floated down from the rooftop and right-side up once more, nudging the ajar window open and squeezing inside. Hips like hers had a hard time fitting through small spaces, but it was manageable. The blonde floating in the middle of his room, arms hung low and knees curled up. Limp and relaxed, dressed in shorts and a tied-up t-shirt. Peaking over her sunglasses, the camera flew into her hand gently and her thumb hit the record button ‘off’. “Dipper, seriously, if you’re going to film me at least ask!”

This was about the third time she’d caught him now. Always a scolding. Dipper groaned, hopping up on the mattress and watching the magic carefully. “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he repeated. The usual apology, recited and well-practiced. “I'll ask to use your camera rather than sneak it out of your bag while you and KP are talking about…” Another groan. “Boys.”

Jess snickered. ‘Boy’ talk was not the right age bracket for talking about her friend’s obvious crush on their boss. It was more like ‘Grand-daddy’ talk. Ew. She tried to stay mad, but the kid had rare gem of sarcasm that made her smile. “No, ask before you film a girl without her knowledge! There’s stuff I don’t want the Internet to see!” She frowned on a more serious note then. “Wait… don’t tell me you film Wendy, do you?”

He blushed. Oh God, how many people knew about this awful crush. “No!! No, I would never!!”

A sigh of relief. “Good, then I don’t have to give you a stern talking-to…” Jessica brightened. “Anyway, while I have you here…” She shrugged off the purple back-pack from her shoulders, and proceeded to look through the levitating sack. KP had packed so much bloody sunscreen that it was like they were watching a group of penguins touring Australia. But there, at the bottom of the bag, was a nice cardboard box with an even nicer present inside. Jess shrugged it out, and chucked the box into his hands. “Got you something!”

“W-Woah!” Dipper caught it in an awkward bundle, holding it close. It had a lot of instructions and careful warnings on the side, but he recognised the image. It was a video-camera. Frighteningly similar to her own, that he had used for this whole third of the Summer together. He felt his jaw drop. “I… Wow, this is so cool!” He immediately looked at her. “Did you make this?”

Jess snorted with laughter. Her powers were good but not that good. “Dipper, if I could, I would have done this weeks ago.” She certainly wouldn’t have been able to make all the little foam nuggets that lived inside the box, anyway. Sometimes buying things came with more certainty than just making it out of thin air. Hoisting her legs into the air, the backpack dropped to the ground as she flew up in a casual sitting position. “I bought it yesterday. Figured you might finally stop borrowing my camera if you and Mabel had your own!”

Sharing it between two was going to be way easier than sharing it with three. Dipper grinned. All his footage of the Hide-Behind (or lack of) and the bizarre tooth (more like horrifying, cryptic, island-head-monster, but okay) was going to have some new company. He reeled with ideas of what to film. But he had to ask. After all, he was aware of their quiet but distant friendship, too. “Why are you doing this?”

A shrug. Like most of the things she answered him with. “Well, I’ve been using you guys for my channel as much as you use me for yours.” They called it ‘cameos’, but the truth was the truth. Views spiked with the Mystery Twins, and she was making cents from it. “I’d feel bad if I didn’t get something as a ‘thank you’, so I splurged into my Kissing Booth money and… Well, thank you.”

Dipper smiled. Small, embarrassed, just-as-bad-with-emotions smile, in the dimple of his cheek. He gripped the box tight. “No problem! Uhh… thanks for letting us borrow it for so long, I guess.”

“Anytime, Pine Tree!”

He headed for the others downstairs, the new video-camera in his hands and that familiar trucker-cap on his head. She trusted his anxiety and paranoia not to bring it with them to the public pool today and save it for mystery-solving. The items he had ready for his little ‘study’ of Jess were all around the floor in a mess that looked vaguely like a map of her life. The scrapbook, covered with glitter and macaroni, seemed to be getting thicker and thicker by the day. With the smallest shred of effort, the book raised into her hands and she turned through the open pages. So many pictures of Mabel and Waddles from the fair, scraps of crystals from their shrinking-torch, but there were drawings, too. Crayon and coloured pencil pieces of various caticatures, portraits of Jess and KP holding hands next to a blurry polaroid of them smooching at the fairgrounds.

Jessica grinned, closed the book, and waved it over to Mabel’s bedside. And she would have left it at that, but there was something else in the room that caught her eye. The Journal - equally messy, but in the way that an exploding lab or abused library was, rather than the 5AM dance-party aesthetic of the twin sister’s work. Dipper always kept it close and safe, and frankly she hadn’t seen enough of it for her liking. He didn’t like anyone over the age of 12 getting their hands on it, just in case. She could understand that. It was his secret, as her powers were hers, and she could respect that.

It still didn’t stop her from reading it though.

Perched on Dipper’s unmade bed, legs crossed, the book rested in her lap comfortably. Her fingertips traced the six-fingered hand of the cover fondly, inspected the paper’s slight shine, before she opened it up. Most of the dust between the pages were blown out from finally being read and loved again, but there was still a thin layer baked right into the spine. The pages were so thin and yellowed that she didn’t even use her fingers to turn it, using magic instead to avoid thumb-prints and tears. It seemed like the twins were making their own notes on top of the decades-old originals. ‘Gnomes: Weakness, lawnmowers’. ‘Ghosts, seen at convenience store’! And she should have been a little mad, considering that this book was practically a historical document and should be treated with respect, but then she thought about all the notes she used to write and doodle on her science books in college. This was no different.

… Man, there was a lot here, though. The Hide-Behind, a Gremoblin, the floating eyeballs from the cave, and pages full of sketches of the landscape and forests of Gravity Falls. So many creatures, so little time. The kids were getting better at finding them in the wild, though. Even if it often led to disastrous consequences. Another page turned slowly, expecting more bug-eyed weirdos and mountain dwelling spooks, when she came across—

Bill.

Jess paused. Bill Cipher was in the Journal. And it wasn’t in a good light.

He was illustrated as a silhouette of black ink, staring from the page with his singular eye. No lashes, no replicant of the shaky drawings and symbols from the cave. It was him. That eerie posture of his low-hanging arms and relaxed, slightly kicked legs was caught perfectly. Various codes and patterns surrounded him, written down in rushes only to be crossed out again. CAESER. ATBASH. Some codes weren’t even letters or recognisable sigils, but some kind of bizarre alien text of lines and dots - part hieroglyphics, part morse-code, all of it impossible to read.

But there were splatters of red in the corners, and it wasn’t ink. And a paragraph of notes and praise, beautifully written in cursive. Bill has proven himself to be one of the friendliest and most trustworthy individuals that I’ve ever encountered in my life. On and on, thankful and adoring, and not unlike Jessica’s own thought process. But it was all crossed out, stubborn and hurt, and there was a bold, terrifying series of four-words amongst the stains.

BILL CAN’T BE TRUSTED!

She swallowed thickly. Kiara would have loved this guy. Beware Bill. The most powerful and dangerous creature I’ve ever encountered.

It was wrong. The Author was wrong. He had to be. Her fingers pressed into the ruby bindings of the book, and she read the following page. An illustration of the small triangle, in more detail and accuracy, hopping into a barely detailed human brain. It was labelled with several, scientifically accurate parts. REFLECTIVES, said one third. DOMESTIC, said another. THE LADIES, marked the last.

… Maybe the guy was just a lonely kook. Jess looked up from the Journal with a deadpan expression. So the Author was a deranged horn-dog. Fine. The book closed, a little harder than necessary, and she tucked it just underneath Dipper’s pillow for safe-keeping. No wonder the boy seemed to enjoy his writing. But so what? There was plenty here that was incorrect. He was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

Bill was fine. She had magic powers. And they talked all the time. They were fine, they were great, they were friends. The corn-chip would have told her of any further intentions. She was smarter than this deranged lunatic and his coded notes. Jess asked questions. Jess read details. Or, alternatively, she asked questions and he would shut her down and talk about a vague, larger plan, and she didn’t have the guts to ask him what that plan was so she just kept her mouth zipped and enjoy what she had. Enjoy the feeling of life in her veins and magic in her bones and becoming something larger, grander, better than just a failed little girl.

She gripped the sheets, and didn’t move until she was called back downstairs by KP. Jessica played along the whole week by the poolside, flirtatious and funny and blonde and sweet, laughing everything off. She continued to tease Kiara about her obvious feelings for Stanford Pines, as old as he was, and waved at Mabel and her sweet, hispanic (??) mermaid (?!?!?) boyfriend. She had nothing to worry about. Nothing.

Is he watching me? asked the book under Dipper’s pillow.

- - - - -

“So who else have you made deals with?” Jean asked some time ago, turning over in the air to see him.

Bill was sitting back, hands behind him as one would put them behind their head. He watched the sky roll lazily by. “OH, YOU KNOW. DA VINCI, THE KENNEDY’S, A COUPLE OF RUBES,” he listed casually. “I HAD FUN FILMING THE MOON-LANDING WITH NASA. THAT WAS PRETTY GREAT.”

Jess wasn’t sure if she wanted to ask about that yet. Whole new bag of worms to deal with. But she did ask this: “Have you ever given anybody your powers before?”

Bill paused. Interesting of her to ask. “NO,” he answered eventually. “HAVEN’T NEEDED TO! AND WHEN I FIGURED OUT I NEEDED TO, THERE WEREN’T PEOPLE IN TOWN WHO WERE WORTH SHARING THEM WITH!”

It had flattered her at the time. She used to spend a whole day of mischief with her favourite triangle. The minute she was out of earshot, sometimes sooner, Bill would appear in a crack of light by her side. The space around him shifting between this world and the Mindscape, as vibrant a yellow as ever. They’d exchange a knowing grin, and Jess would pick up her feet and turn her walk into a float. Both to show off her control over his magic, and because flying was the best thing in the world.

Jessica was getting good at learning his magic. Understanding where it came from. Bill didn’t delve too much into how he learned them - nobody wants to give away their backstory all at once and take away the fun. But she got it. Learn an equation, think of a grander universal concept, and either conjure it or remove it from existence entirely. All he’d given her that afternoon nap by the cave was just a spark for her body and brain to withstand it. Something to make her physically grander than the average twenty-five year-old cheerleader. She was a science-interested mind with an artist’s imagination. It was a good combo that worked in his favour, and appealing to boot. He needed that for the long-term plans. And for the short-term, she was damn fine fun.

They still spend nights together. It was harder to see her during the day, and she needed him less and less to talk through her abilities. Between fun-fairs, pig adoption, swimming pools, and sunsets on the porch chopping firewood, Bill Cipher wasn’t bothering to visit as often as he used to. They had dreams and the Mindscape to talk, to unwind, to catch up and explore the valleys and peaks of her imagination’s hillsides. And he didn’t want to sit in on those long hours of playing make-up and detective and helping the kids making videos for their stupid little channels. So he stuck right out of that, folded his arms, and waited for his friend to fall asleep and finally give him some time.

It was irritating. He was irritated, and she was aware of that, and now there were blood-splattered pages in a very old book with his name written between warning signs.

Technically speaking, spending time with the kids and making dumb videos was still practicing her powers. Bill couldn’t get too mad at Jean for spending more and more time with them. Right? Right. Even so, the girl had to make it up to him. So she picked a night and used the building blocks of her mind and imagination to create something just for them. No twins, no Kiara, nothing. Just her and Bill. She owed him that, at least.

Jessica was about half an hour into her sleep when he appeared. Deep blue night skies, slender purple and indigo trees. The usual level of whimsy, and those same white silhouettes of faceless starlight walking past them. But those eager silhouettes seemed to be vanished, or gather somewhere else. Bill Cipher was a contrast of yellow - not a soft gold but rather the ink in your printer that always seemed to vanish at inconvenient times - and appeared in a burst of white light. On the cliffside, outside the memory of ‘his’ cave, looking over towards the lake. A haze of pink and peach lights, made from only the kind of old-fashioned bulbs around movie-star frames and… carnivals.

He squinted, flying down closer to the sight. The closer he flew, the louder it became. Happy giggles, old music from the 50’s, and rickety wooden structures. Part of it resembled what Stan Pines created in his backyard in the name of self-promotion, the other parts looked like the seaside carnivals over in San Francisco or Coney Island. There was a large ferris wheel that nearly eclipsed the milky moon, with rose-coloured seats and plush cushions. There were games to play that won ugly, llama-looking plush toys with soft pink cheeks and bowties. The Kissing Booth was not occupied by Crescent, but rather a silhouette of white who had curves in the right places and a vaguely androgynous face. He ignored it. Nothing was rigged, everyone was a winner, and there was a distinct perfume in the air of fairy-floss and caramel. It was charming in a very mortal, young-love kind of way.

The girl had worked incredibly hard on it. Even down to the harlequin-styled clown, juggling on a small stage and dropping all his rainbow-coloured balls into his face. Bill cackled with nasal laughter amongst the imagined figures, and turned at the sound of ukulele. Jessica was performing as a busker, something she did to pass time and make money in college, and was dressed in a summer frock of white lace that sat like an attractive potato sack. It was pretty, as were the flowers in her hair. She was playing an old song that Cipher recalled her parents used to play on the kitchen radio, and when his eye found her she immediately stopped. Put the instrument down, float above the crowd, just make him the center of her world again.

She tucked a hair behind her ear, relaxing her legs and standing on the ground once more. “Sooo… you found the place!”

Bill chuckled. “HARD TO MISS IT,” he said/exclaimed. He always spoke so loudly. One of his hands reached for his top-hat, and he lifted it in respect. “NOT BAD, CRESCENT. NOT BAD AT ALL. CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU MAKE SOMETHING LIKE THIS WHEN YOU’RE AWAKE!”

Jess wandered along, the bystanders of white parting from their way. It was hard to tell how much control she had over them sometimes, but the girl didn’t mind a crowded room. It was exciting. Especially in the dusk-coloured party lights and atmosphere of this little fairytale. She wanted to make him happy, show off how much she could do, and it was certainly fun to expand things further and further. “Well, y’know, I feel bad that I spent so much time with the kids lately… Running around with them is fun and all, but I would have liked to spend some of the day with my other friend.”

He heard the good intentions in her voice. She really meant it. The triangle chuckled, flattered and floating, and they made their way to the ferris wheel. She clicked her fingers and a pair of champagne glasses appeared just within their reach, taking gentle sips in unison as the sparkling attendant set them inside the comfortable, cozy ride. Bill’s eye shut, and he drank through the lids as one would a mouth, only to open them again as that frightening slit pupil. It made Jess giggle.

“SO WHAT’S THE OCCASION?” he asked, sitting down with a little wriggle of comedic effect. Jess ignored him, leaning back into the cozy pink pillows. She could make her ferris wheel as pretty and unsafe as she’d like. But Bill wasn’t giving up. “CHAMPAGNE? WEARING SOMETHING OTHER THAN THOSE FILTHY PYJAMAS? AN ENTIRE CARNIVAL BY THE SEA? YOU’RE INDULGING ME HERE, KID!”

Jessica nibbled her lip when she spoke. Her knees crossed over, she watched the bubbles in the gold drink. “Well… I guess I wanted to say thanks, too. I mean, you’ve taught me so much. I wanted to show you I—“

“CRESCENT.”

His voice was sharp. Bill’s eye was on her, and her only. “I KNOW WHAT YOU READ.”

The wheel began to turn, and they rotated up, gently, into the deep blue sky of night. Despite the light pollution of the sideshow, the stars remained ever-bright. Logic was second-thought in the Mindscape. The world could be as beautiful or as ugly as Jessica’s dreams and emotions dictated. And right now, it was beautiful. For him. And she was making herself dainty and small and sweet. She was nervous. And she was overcompensating with big gifts, gestures of affection, exploring her powers as much as possible to push back the fact that, finally, she had found something that shook her faith in the inter-dimensional being.

The blonde watched the view of deep blue sea and endless horizon. The pink and yellow lights of the fair glowed beneath their feet. “… KP’s always said I should be careful around you,” she began. “But she says that about all my friends and relationships.” Bless that sweet, honest girl. A small smile tugged briefly. “… We both know I have shit in my life that I don’t want to deal with. And I figured… that you were the same. You never asked me about my history, so I never pried too deep into yours. But…”

Jessica swallowed. “You knew the Author. And something happened between you guys that turned a good friendship bad.” Those blue eyes kept dancing, taking nervous glances at the triangle as she considered her words. “And the cave paintings, and the cipher wheel, and… You’ve told me so much about the world, Bill, and I am amazed. But I know nothing about you…! I barely know what you gave me these powers for in the first place!!”

“YOU KNOW WHY!” he said, a laugh to his voice. He set the champagne glass on an imaginary table, and it floated perfectly in the air beside him. “YOU’RE A BRIGHT KID, WITH A LOT OF IMAGINATION, AND IT—“

“Bill, no, I…” She bit her lip. The interruption made her blink. Jean gave a sigh, gentle but clearly pent-up, like the steam from a kettle. “Give me something… real. You gave me these for a reason. And you still haven’t told me what that reason is. I’m too polite to ask what your intentions are, but if you don’t want me using them for fun with my friends, and you don’t want me performing onstage, then you have to tell me what this whole thing is about.”

She didn’t even sound angry anymore. Just a bit stressed, a bit desperate, and finally snapping a little. Jess was a straight-shooter when she was serious. It was rare, but she could be. He was wondering whenabouts she’d finally pop the question. And her nerves were turning from quiet and unspoken to loud, and straight-forward, and determined. Enough games. Enough mindless flattery. She was asking for some truth. Bill sighed in a defeated manner. He couldn’t avoid this topic. “SO YOU WANNA HEAR IT? THE TRAGIC TALE OF BILL THE TRIANGLE GUY?”

Jessica Jean nodded. She leaned back in the seat as the ferris-wheel took them higher. A vision of white among the blue and pink of her little universe. His stiff three sides relaxed a little, almost wilting or melting, and Cipher’s eyelid grew heavy. “I’M FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION. NOT THE MINDSCAPE, NOT YOURS, ANOTHER PLACE. IT WAS A BORING LITTLE BLACK AND WHITE SPACE WITH SIMPLE-MINDED PEOPLE. OTHER SHAPES. OTHER TRIANGLES. BUT I KNEW I WAS ALWAYS ONE OF A KIND! SMARTER THAN THE AVERAGE SQUARE! GOOD OL’ BILL CIPHER! A CUT ABOVE THE REST!

“I KNEW I WAS TOO GOOD FOR THE WORLD. I HAD TO FIND A WAY OUT. I STARTED LOOKING UP THINGS I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO, AND IT MADE ME A SMARTER EQUILATERAL. SOON, I WAS ABLE TO LEAVE MY WORLD ENTIRELY. I CAME TO YOUR THIRD DIMENSION AND TRIED TO SHOW THE PEOPLE WHAT I WAS CAPABLE OF, BUT THEY DIDN’T LIKE ME AT ALL! ALL THEY WANTED TO DO WAS BANISH ME.“

“I saw,” she said. Jess curled up her knees, moving closer to his side. “The murals on cave… The red lightning?”

“THAT’S THE ONE,” said Bill. He couldn’t look at her. How could he? Why should he? He was so lowly and she was so sweet. He sighed. The half-humoured tone to his story began to fade. Even when his voice was so loud, so nasal, Cipher just sounded so sad. He practically lost his glow. “I’VE BEEN TRAPPED FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS. I WATCHED SO MUCH OF THE WORLD COME AND GO, AND I WANTED TO BE PART OF IT SO BADLY! I MANAGED TO HELP A FEW PEOPLE CHANGE HISTORY. MAKE AN IMPACT. GIVE MY LIFE A LITTLE MEANING. BUT IT’S NEVER BEEN ENOUGH. I’VE… I’VE NEVER BEEN ENOUGH.”

Jessica swallowed. She knew that feeling. Not to his cosmic extent. But she knew it. The triangle continued to explain himself and his slit pupil met her blue eyes. “THE AUTHOR OF THE JOURNALS FOUND ME, AND DEMANDED I TELL HIM ALL THE SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE. I SHARED WHAT I COULD, BUT IT DROVE HIM MAD WITH POWER. THE POOR GUY LOST HIS SANITY COMPLETELY.” He looked at her with what was the equivalent of a hopeful smile. An air of warmth resonated between them in the starry sky. “BUT YOU? … YOU’RE THE FIRST PERSON I’VE EVER GIVEN MY POWERS TO. YOU’RE A GOOD EGG. A SMART KID. SMART ENOUGH TO LEARN HOW IT WORKS, BUT FUN ENOUGH TO TAKE IT TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL! YOU ARE EXACTLY WHAT I NEED.”

She was quiet the whole while, taking in his story and hanging onto every word. But Jess had to ask, directly, “And what do you need? What do you need me to be?”

Cipher looked at her with his big, adoring eye. It was shiny against the starlight. He was yellow against the purple and blue of her mind. It crinkled in the corners, in his version of a mouthless smile. “I NEED YOU TO BE MY ACE IN THE HOLE IF SOMETHING GOES WRONG. I’VE GOT A PLAN TO COME OUT THERE, IN YOUR WORLD. IT’S READY FOR ME. BUT IF SOMETHING GOES HAYWIRE, YOU’RE MY BACK-UP. I NEED YOU TO KEEP PRACTICING WHAT I TEACH YA, AND I NEED YOU AT BECK AND CALL WHEN THOSE BIG PLANS PAY OFF.” He sounded a little nervous. A glance up and down at her. “CAN YOU DO THAT FOR ME, CRESCENT?”

By contract, she couldn’t say no. But he pretended that she could. And Jess believed it. She believed it all, as he expected her to do. She smiled, warm and tender, and edged a little closer to him. And before Bill knew it, she did something pretty unexpected. She hugged him. Arms wrapped around his pointy frame. Altogether, he was about as tall as her torso - a perfect size to get wrapped up in as she lay back in their booth.

“I can do that,” she answered quietly. “… you weird asshole.”

She heard a chuckle. It was limp, compared to his louder natural laugh. Heck, Cipher was kind of surprised that she was holding him in the first place. Aside from sex with near strangers and grabbing KP whenever possible, Jessica Jean didn’t have a track record of physical attention. It made her squeamish. If she hugged him, it meant she really liked him.

Good.

“WHAT WAS THAT CUTE LITTLE NUMBER YOU WERE SINGING EARLIER?” he asked, finishing the champagne. He still flashed gold light with each syllable he spoke.

Jess shrugged. “It’s something my Mom sang to me before the divorce.”

And she’d hold her like this, too. The same way she held Bill now. He felt her clutch him a little tighter, a little closer, just subconsciously. He reclined in her arms as best as he could. “I’VE HEARD IT SOMEWHERE BEFORE. WANNA SING IT AGAIN FOR ME?”

Crescent smiled. “Sure!”

They stared into the blue, quiet and still, and talked about the endlessness yet contained beauty of the universe. Eager questions about the past and future, venting about her previous relationships and friends, and drinking champagne. The wheel stopped with them right at the top, looking over the world they shared together. Her eyelids grew heavy even within the dream, relaxed into a complete state of bliss. Her fingertips traced the flat, two-dimensional edge of his body, and he didn’t protest to it.

J.F. Kennedy didn’t cuddle. Neither did Lovecraft. Bill didn’t really have many female humans as contracts or friends. Still getting used to some aspects of it. And hugging seemed to be one of them. It was sweet. Not his preferred thing, but it was new. And new things were always intriguing. Jessica Jean, lying back amongst pillows and pointing out constellations in her mind’s sky, held him in her arms. It was difficult to, given he was a being of pure energy and weightlessness, but she tried. And the effort was enough.

The song ended slowly, gently. “You know what?” she said, looking out onto the wide blue ocean. It went for miles. The edge of her mind. They looked at the limitless blue and she squeezed him tighter. It was hard to, but the effort was enough. “I can’t wait for you to come out of this place… I’ll actually be able to hug you for real!”

Bill groaned dramatically. “YEAH, YEAH, I CAN HARDLY WAIT.” And the sarcasm made her laugh enough to spill some champagne.

- - - - -

KP and Jessica were usually the ones in charge of grocery runs. Stanford’s parenting skills were getting better, but it seemed like his cooking always relied on beans and war rations. Not that they were culinary experts or anything, but college life and learning to live on your own meant you picked up a couple things like easy-bake pasta recipes, steaks, eggs, anything that required minimal ingredients and as many healthy things as they could fit. Plus, being a young(er) adult meant they could respect the kids’ needs for brightly coloured cereal, sugar, and fruit juice spelt with numbers for letters.

“Honestly, this one is just an exclamation mark!” said KP, pulling it off the shelf. The bottle was about as big as Manly Dan’s arm, and coloured like a neon pink sign at a video arcade. She grinned. “Is Mabel gonna make her juice again?”

Jess nodded. “Yup. Prepare your liver.”

The car ride back from the store was music, good times, big smiles, and a backseat full of groceries. Loud rock music from the 50’s mixed with trap from last week. It was an eclectic mess of music tastes, which is what the blonde seemed to enjoy most. Every speed-bump made the beetle shake, but the stops and sights on the way to Gopher Road were becoming more and more familiar. Kiara smiled out the window, even at the sight of the massive white and blue tent of the Gleeful family. This strange little town felt more like home every day. Sunshine on her skin when she leaned on the window. Her shirt’s long black sleeves felt toasty warm in the light.

She smiled at the driver. “Could you live here?”

It had certainly come out of nowhere. As did the smile from Tad Strange, crossing past them at the intersection and holding hands with his boyfriend. Jess waved back, awkward but flattered smirk on her face, and turned to her not-girlfriend. “Why’d you ask?”

“I dunno…!” replied KP. In fact, it had surprised herself a little. But just being lost in thought in the golden taste of sunlight had sent her off to somewhere dream-like and strange. She imagined the clouds parting and the shining light against her right cheek like a little kiss. “Lately I’ve just been thinking, y’know… settling down, finding somewhere nice and quiet to work on my comics…” She turned to Jessica with a nervous but hopeful expression. “Once the Summer’s up and the kids are on the bus to California, I might even look into real estate here!”

“Aww…!” Jess was quiet but proud. “That’s great!” Planning the future was never her forte. She survived as much as she could in the present. Anything like a career or a marriage was far, far away from her priorities. “What are you thinking, an apartment…? Or a cute little cottage house somewhere like Wendy’s place or the Shack…?

KP smiled. “Yeah, the Shack is perfect!”

“Yeah… Rustic, charming, full of weird taxidermy…!” “Ha-ha, yeah! Perfect woodland get-away—“

“Hotter older gentleman waiting for you every night…” purred Jess.

Kiara Lee Phoenix frowned at the blonde. This was not a road she wished to bring up. Again. “Not a day goes by where y’don’t remind me of this stupid crush, do you?”

“IT’S ADORABLE!” squealed Jess behind the wheel. Also, talking about the feelings between Stanford Pines and her best friend was a nice distraction from thinking about the inevitable death of her childhood and having to become an independent person. Taking a left turn and finding the familiar path for Gopher Road, she tried to talk while paying full attention. It was difficult. “Honestly, sweetheart, it had been years since I last saw you get a crush this bad!!”

The brunette made a loud, ugly groan of embarrassing noise and hardship. Easy for her friend to say, but it was hard to carry the feeling. “Please stop!! It’s… it’s weird. He’s so much older but he’s so handsome and he really cares about the kids!!” Her experience with boys was awful. With men? Even worse. KP didn’t know how to handle the emotional need in her body. She itched for the comforting headphones around her neck. She sighed, defeated, and hugged herself instead. “Look, what do you reckon?”

“I’ve told you what I reckon!” laughed Jess. “It’s adorable. You’re adorable.”

“Be serious,” said KP, in a rather miserable tone. “Just tell me, is this weird or not? I’m trying to shut off my feelings for the guy but… I can’t. And I know he’s kinda rough, and not the most aware, but he really does the best he can, and…” She was so tired from feeling it. Why did they have to talk about it? Why did she have to feel it?! Kiara looked to Jess for guidance. “Just give it to me straight.”

“… KP, you know I’m bi, I can’t give things straight—“

“Shut your beautiful mouth and be serious, darn it!”

It started off with giggles, but Jess would get to the point in a minute. She made the proper turn and headed up the long, dirt lane of Gopher Road. With a little bit of magic she turned down the radio as a sign of ‘serious conversation ahead’. “Okay, okay…” She racked her brain for good points. Good points about the law-avoiding ex-boxer who somehow managed to make his own business in dealing lies to suckers. “… He’s funny. And yeah, he’s getting better around the kids… Personally, I like my guys a little fitter, and a little nerdier, but y’know, that’s just me!

“The age… isn’t that much of an issue these days. Big gaps are gross when you’re like, in high school and some creepy 30-year-old man asks you about your cup size when you’re sixteen. That’s fucked up. But as you start getting older and a little wiser, people start to blur across generations…! Love is just a concept of hormones and biological urges, anyway, so who cares about how old, or fat, or queer, or how different each of the people involved are as long as they’re consenting and honest to each other!” Jessica’s serious talks always seemed to delve into social or scientific issues. She tried to make it more personal and not just a vent. “You always talk about finding a guy who wants a family, who’s gonna treat you like a real classy lady, and boys our age usually don’t give a shit about that…”

KP nodded with a bitter sigh. Too true. It was why Jess had so much care-free luck in sex and why she’d had so little. The blonde was fleeting and lived on the physical drive that was easier to come by - Kiara wanted something more… mature. They both watched the trees go by as she drove onward. “So… It’s fine that I have the hots for a sixty-three year-old man?”

Jessica snorted. “Sweetie, if you don’t judge me for being a sexually active queer girl, I will not judge you for having a crush on a nice older gentleman who, according to you, is trying really hard to be a good guy.”

She smiled, cheeks flushed with a tint of pink. And it wasn’t the sunshine on her skin. Kiara adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Thanks, sweetheart…” she mumbled, quiet and thinking things over. They drove in the silence for a little while, looking at the road ahead and the slowly-appearing rooftop of their favourite tourist trap. Finally, she came to a lightbulb moment. “Hey, I just realised! You haven't got any action this whole trip!”

“I know, right?!” “How are you handling being single and constantly horny in a town full of nice family folk?” Jessica’s face lit up in a big, movie-star grin. “It’s killing me inside like you wouldn’t believe!”

She was about to rant about her last sexual encounter being a disappointing boy at a nightclub a year and a half ago, but a cop car was speeding right past them and heading towards the Mystery Shack. Blubs and Durland were on the case. The case of something. The two girls exchanged a look of concern, silently prayed the Stan wasn’t in trouble with the law again, and hit the gas a little harder. Something was wrong.

The ‘wrong’ was more mumbo-jumbo weirdness in Mabel and Dipper’s lives. They had left that morning with the twins fighting over having to share a room (which disheartened KP, but honestly it was bound to happen at some point) and now seemed to escalate to secret rooms (which excited Jess, but honestly it was bound to happen at some point.) Somehow the kids had gotten mixed up with a turquoise-coloured, incredibly fuzzy throw-rug with bizarre scientific abilities. The experiment gone wrong had just been lying dormant in the dusty ruins hidden in the Shack, and now was leading to absolute chaos. The house had about five people too many and a screaming, terrified pig. Candy, Grenda, the two-person squad, and—

McGucket. Jess cringed. Not that weirdo. This madness was coming to a gentle end, bit by bit, and whatever was a mess seemed to be sorting itself out. The carpet of mind-switching atomic power was putting everybody back into their own bodies. The girls had caught the tail of it, with Dipper and Mabel trying to organise everybody back into their own bodies. Apparently these lunatics had been jumping and out of each other all day via electric shocks. Sorting one at a time was a lot harder than it sounds, especially when Deputy Derland was crying and shaking in the body of a small Vietnamese girl.

“Pffftt,” muttered Candy’s sweet voice inside of pig’s body. “It’s not that bad.”

But eventually, it was done. Required a lot of organisation and KP demanding everybody split into two groups, those comfy in their own skin and those trapped in somebody else’s, and trying to convince Jess not to be an asshole and shock her ‘for fun’. Everybody became adjusted, the carpet was avoided as much as possible, and even Soos managed to stay out of Waddles. More or less.

The boy looked himself over, trying to get the taste of wooden door-chips out of his mouth. “Oh, no, I changed back!” he assured the Pines twins. He gave a glance down at his belly and the dirt on his hands. “At least I think I did.”

“I’ll still eat ya…!” muttered a starved, shivering hillbilly behind him.

The knife and fork in McGucket’s hands were terrifying. As was the threat of cannibalism. Jessica squirmed. ‘Old Man’ McGucket always made her squeemish. Like some awful mess between a tragic story of homelessness and a genuinely off-putting, unappealing ease in his awkward, clumsy behaviour. That, and he built giant robots to take out his enemies. Shady. Dipper and Mabel pushed him out as far as they could, trying to get rid of him as respectfully as possible, but it was the blonde who ended up taking him by the shoulders with gingerly fingers and leading him through the house. Of course. Just her luck.

The blue plaid wallpaper and old, rickety floors were becoming far too familiar at this point. Honestly, they spent more time in the Mystery Shack that at the hostel. She took a glance down at the old man. Long, dirty white beard. Big pickle nose, blushed and pimpled. Poor guy smelt like rotten beans. With the rest of the confused victims of ‘carpet diem’ following behind them, she tried to make polite conversation. “Don’t you have, like, a son you could bother or something?”

She caught a glimpse of that young man at the lake, anyway, but he seemed to be embarrassed of the inventor. “Maybe!” he laughed back. “Don’t rightly know, these days!!” What a kook. Jessica found herself a little lost, slowing down bit by bit as she tried to find her way in the labyrinth of rooms. Sometimes the house was more of a maze than a home. But McGucket pointed at a particular hallway. “Door’s that way, little lady!”

Jess frowned. A particularly correct hallway. “I know, I know…”

McGucket wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Has that pig always lived here?!”

“Mabel got him at a fun-fair, not that it’s any of your business.”

“You can win pigs at the fun-fair?!”

“Yeah, I…” Jess glanced at the living-room as they walked by. McGucket seemed to have his eyes set on the square-jawed, overweight uncle sitting in front of the TV. She snickered. “Were you talking about Grunkle Stan?”

“That’s a nice name for a pig!!”

Okay, she had to laugh at that. The hard push against his slack shoulders eased up just a bit. She was expecting her boss to yell at the two of them for poking fun, but he seemed pretty focused on cleaning a pair of glasses. Or maybe the episode of Baby Fights was particularly interesting. Whatever. She opened up the front door and shooed everybody out, a gentle hand waving away the two girls and the charming officers. Blubs began to give Grenda a proper talking to about ‘excessive giggling’. The sky was peach with the setting sun. Pink seemed to be the colour of Jessica’s summer nights these days. It was a nice view.

She looked down to her left. McGucket was watching the sky, too. Even through his cross-eyed pupils and hundred-yard stare. She would have thought it was sweet if not for the overwhelming stench of raccoons, rusty tin, and unwashed clothing.

Oh, to hell with it. The guy hadn’t eaten and was clearly homeless. Apparently McGucket slept in the Gravity Falls junkyard - he couldn’t help that he was as unstable as a rowboat in a storm, and was probably too crazy to remember this, anyway. Jess pulled a crisp fifty-dollar note from the inside of her bare palm, and held it out to the old man. He blinked at it.

She winced. “Please just take it.”

“What for?” he asked. His voice was still as twangy as banjo string.

She grimaced. “You haven’t eaten in a week and you smell like crap and I don’t want you in this house again, okay? Just take the money.”

It all came out a lot quicker and awkward than she’d anticipated. But the old guy didn’t seem to mind. Then again McGucket also had a bandaid on his beard and a cast for a wrist injury that had probably healed five years ago. He played with the note in his hands, stretching and twisting it about. He stood there, a little stunned, and Jess closed the door on him. Weirdo. The four kids were talking outside, trying to avoid the questions of the officers, and the house was finally quiet. Thank God. All that pig-screaming and running around in literal circles was getting to her. So much for a calm day getting groceries.

Jessica risked having a float, lifting up her feet and pocketing her hands in her overalls. Down the quiet hallways of old wood, save for the sound of crying children muffled in the lounge-room down the hallway. The static sound of the channels being flicked through one by one gave the house some white noise to it. It was nice. Cozy. Along with the gentle sounds of soft voices, understanding and anxious tones, that she only recognised as that of her best friend. She ducked in her head to find Kiara and Stanford there, changing channels. The eye-wear in his hand was practically squeaky clean, but the guy wouldn’t stop polishing it. KP had the remote and seemed to be finding something on the telly.

They were shaped kind of different from the ones he usually wore. She nodded towards them, and got to her feet pronto before their boss could recognise them. “Cool glasses.” He pocketed them in the striped boxer shorts, and grumbled something incoherent. She tried more conversation. “… They new?”

“Old,” answered the man gruffly. He reclined back in his vomit-coloured chair. This house had furniture from so many decades it was getting ridiculous. But nothing beat the old chair and the stone walls of the living room. He ignored her for a moment, and looked up at the better babysitter. “You gonna join in on this rerun or leave the mystery to me?”

KP laughed a little too loudly. “U-Uh… yeah! Sure!” And while there was room on the massive arms of the chair, she picked the soft and worn-out lounge to lie back on. A safe distance from Stanford and hopefully enough for him to forget the blush that was spreading to her face. Jess smiled internally. Girl had it bad.

Stan noticed the staring. He glanced at Jess up and down, and hiked a thumb towards the stairwell. He wasn’t going to have her standing around being a millennial nightmare when she could’ve been put to some good work. Especially when the ‘suck up’ contest was at an end and he could no longer abuse the fine line between ‘child labour’ and ‘time with the kids’. “Goldilocks, go clean up the new room for Dipper tonight, will ya?”

Her face caved. “Why me?”

“Because the kids have worked all day, Soos is being weird, and KP and I are watching TV. Get to it.”

The past week, she’d spent plenty of time being nice and doing favours for other people. Buying a video camera for the kids, making a spectacular carnival for herself and Bill to play in, and creating money from thin air to feed a weird old guy who married something that he found in a dumpster. Maybe the good-deeds energy from it was still in effect, or maybe the fact that KP and Stanford could have some time alone together was reason enough to do it. Jessica pretended to whine and get under Stan’s skin. Arms folded, leaning over to try and see the blurred screen, big pomp and fuss with her chest stuck out defensively. Play up and act like the clown. But when she left, Jess gave the slightest wink to KP. Those two could have some fun, even if was at an arm’s distance apart.

Kiara glanced nervously between the television screen and Stanford Pines. It was an ad-break, and she was trying to find something to talk about other than the massive, quiet, ink-blot of tension and romantic interest. “So…” she tried. “Th-the room’s going to Dipper then?”

Stan gave a shrug. “Yeah, let the nerd have it! It suits him.” He cleared his throat a little, reclining back on the couch and putting his hands behind his head. “I was gonna give it to you two girls, but I figured life at the hostel seemed pretty fun. Didn’t wanna, uh… cramp your style or anything.”

KP scoffed. “Yeah, it’s fun if you enjoy unwashed dishes, termites, and listening to people have loud sex at three in the morning…!”

“Ha!” The old man chuckled and turned to the young woman at his side. The re-run of Ducktective seemed to be less important. “Yeah you’re right. A pretty thing like you must be smothered with attention from all the guys there.”

Kiara could have swallowed her tongue as the red blush claimed her face.

The room was found by Soos that very morning. He’d decided, on his own love for the place and because Mr Mystery told him to, to clean up the boxes in the storage area. The towers of cardboard were greying, some soggy, all of them covered in specks of dust and mildew. They were sealed clumsily by Stanford with duct-tape and remained unopened. The guy had done as best as he could to organise them, but being unable to see what was inside it was more about vacuuming and dusting the piles already there. But he’d moved around enough to reveal a door, traditionally carved from redwood and resembling faintly of a Swedish get-away. Painted with green, yellow and blue floral accents amongst the deep rouge tones. This whole house was designed with bits and bobs from different styles, but this room was by far the strangest. When they’d asked Stan what the hell he’d locked it away for, apparently it was just easier to shut off the previous owner’s junk entirely than try to sort through and figure out what to sell. Lazybones.

It was caked in dust, save for where the kids had been running around. The first thing Jess did was roll up that chaotic piece of carpeting, not even touching the weird old thing but rather curling it up with her mind. The heavy piece of blue and gold shag helped prop the door open and let the room breathe a little more. The tag of Experiment 78 stuck out in a faded silver label. The square underneath was that perfect shape of dust-free space, and the greyed wooden floor was nearly white from being beneath the rug all these years. It had a stronger scotch and masculine smell, like Stan’s office, but it was fainter with the sands of time and smelt less of sweaty laundry. The guy really hadn’t touched it for a while.

Flying made things easier. As did summoning a dusting brush and a vacuum cleaner when she needed one. That way she could get rid of all the creepy cobwebs up in the hard-to-reach corners. Way easier to do now than when Jess was just a five-foot rocket without any fuel. She took in the room’s ambience while she was up there - this 70’s-designed hide-away of red asymmetrical furniture, low knee-high cabinets, and a small, stained-glass window with pink and orange squares. It filled the room with roses, the blue throw-pillows and yellow lamps being little spots of contrast to the colour. It was sweet. Very nicely designed. The rest of the Shack seemed to be mismatched with a memory of the original log-cabin, retro vibe. Stanford had renovated the place time and time again to make his home into a Mystery Shack. The Mystery Shack. But this place? It was untouched.

She pulled down the blue sheet that was hung open over a fold-away mirror. Somebody didn’t want to be seen, but it sure as hell wasn’t Jess. With a little turn and pose, twirling the duster between her fingers and checking out her own curves, she spotted little glass pyramids lined up on a shelf behind her. After a brief clean-up came a chance to play, and she lifted them up in the pink light of the room, reflecting rainbows across the walls and mirrors. A laugh escaped into the quiet. This room seemed to have plenty of knick-knacks - the calendar on the wall was stuck on a picture of a very fierce-looking owl (marked with the fourth of July, 1982), a trophy for a valedictorian, and a framed portrait of a short-haired, bushy-browed young lady who looked a lot like Mary Shelly.

Jess squinted. “… Fuck, I think that is Mary Shelly.”

Books, lamps, and retro clock on top of a blocked-up fireplace. She broke her foot roughly through the boards and vacuumed old ash. A lot of notes had been burned there. And there were stacks and stacks of papers all around. The shelves were full of old-school scoff novels and first editions. Some were guilty pleasure pulp types, and others hardback copies of famous theories and nonfiction collections. This room was… kind of awesome. Jessica was more of a 1960’s, psychedelic, free-love and flower-crowns soul to her trashy 90’s aesthetic, but she really did like the touch of modern 70’s here and there. No wonder Dipper and Mabel fought for it. If she had her say, she’d have been knocking them out for the key, too.

She adjusted the round, yellow lampshade until her feminine standards of ‘tidy’ were met. It was a shame this place was about to smell like unwashed jocks, and not the charming shelf of whiskies and scotch. It was a real shame of Stan to keep this place hidden for so long. But it was understandable. After all, this place was nothing like him. Nothing like Stanford Pines at all.

#gravity falls #gravity falls oc #gravity falls ocs #stanley pines #stanford pines #dipper pines #bill cipher #jessica jean #theory of the falls #totf chapters #AND ONCE AGAIN I WROTE A CHAPTER THAT'S LIKE 10K AND I'M REALLY SORRY #thank you again for reading and enjoying!!!!

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Game 316: Caverns of Mordia (1980)

Caverns of Mordia

Australia

Lothlorien Farming (developer and publisher)

Date Started: 4 January 2019

Date Ended: 13 January 2019

Total Hours: 8

Difficulty: Moderate-Hard (3.5/5)

Final Rating: (to come later)

Ranking at Time of Posting: (to come later)

Caverns of Mordia is a recently-rediscovered entry in what we might call the “establishing age” of CRPGs–that brief period between 1975 and 1983 (even briefer, between 1978 and 1983, for the microcomputer), when developers repeatedly asked themselves how best to adapt the qualities of tabletop role-playing to the computer. By 1983, it was clear that the approaches taken by Ultima and Wizardry had answered the question to almost everyone’s satisfaction. But during that establishing age, we saw a lot of variance in approaches, most unsuccessful, and while RPGs may have improved in the following decade, rarely again do we see so much diversity. My summary of the early era has links to a number of titles with fun ideas that went nowhere. In the case of Mordia, its unique contribution is to map every potential action that a player might take–subject, verb, and object–into a single numeric command. Where most games might offer a command for “attack” and then let you specify that you want to target the orc, Mordia puts that all together as command 22: Attack the Orcs. It’s almost like the game was developed by a police officer, used to describing every potential action or situation in a 10-code. Some of the many commands include:

30: Eat Lymphas [a type of bread]

33: Draw the double-handed sword

40: Use the net to trap dragons

50: Climb up one level

63: Remove the gas mask

66: Put on the gas mask

89: Open the chest

90: Attack the balrog

One of three pages of game commands.

As I read and annotated the various commands, I couldn’t help but imagine all kinds of intriguing possibilities with this system. One problem is that all of the commands are manifestly useful in at least one room. It would have been fun if the author had sprinkled patently absurd commands throughout the list

32: Feed Lymphas to the orc

64: Put the gas mask on the dragon

I also imagined such a list extending to the complexity of a modern RPG:

10318: Stab the necromancer in the back, then run away and hide until he forgets about you, then enter sneak mode and stab him in the back again.

15906: Lead the deathclaw to the raider camp and watch the result from behind a nearby rock.

29055: Position the bodies of Ulfric Stormcloak and Galmar Stone-Fist in an obscene manner.

30117: Lasso and hog-tie the Skinner, heave him onto the back of your horse, ride 90 minutes to the swamps of Lemoyne, feed him to an alligator

Of course, such complexity is why the system was doomed to fail in the long run. You can’t have a unique command for drawing each weapon or attacking each monster unless you only have a few potential weapons and monsters. Still, it works for this game better than I thought it would when I first read the description.

At this moment, I can: (-1) descend the “dropoff”; (3-16) flee to any of the listed rooms; (20) use my Charm Ring on the demons; (21) try to take an emergency tunnel to Room 1 of this level; (22) attack the orc; (30) at some Lymphas Bread; (33) draw my double-handed sword in anticipation of attacking the dragon; (37) try to blind the monsters with an elven flare; (40) try to trap the dragon in a net; (44) attack the dragon; (55) try to make a passage upward with my magic wand; (70) go invisible by putting on the One Ring; (80) try to blast all the monsters with the Magic Staff.

Caverns of Mordia was written by Hans Coster, with assistance and manual artwork by Tony D’Assumpcao, and published in 1980 by Sydney-based Lothlorien Farming. It is the earliest known Australian CRPG, pre-dating the next known title (Citadel of Vras) by 9 years. It was marketed via direct magazine sales, and by the author’s account it did well domestically, but Lothlorien soon shifted to educational software rather than game software. Mordia languished in obscurity for decades–not appearing on any of the lists I used to compile my master list–until 2016, when Neville Ridley-Smith of OldComputerStuff.com happened to buy an original disk as part of a lot, then made contact with Dr. Coster, now a professor and department director at the University of Sydney (Neville’s account begins here). Neville’s efforts not only produced a meeting and interview with Dr. Coster, but also a new set of disk and manual images to distribute on the Internet. This disk has some upgrades that were not available in the original version, but it’s hard to tell exactly what’s new because the original versions floating around the Internet are bugged to the point of unplayability. I’ve annotated the things that I think are new, based on changes to the manual and command list. It’s worth nothing that even the “new” stuff isn’t 2016 material; rather, Coster programmed it in the few years after the original 1980 release but simply never released the second version.

The subtitle screen from the revised edition.

The backstory has you play an agent of the wizard Pallandoin. Your mission is to deliver an Orb of Power to Lady Elleda of Locklorien, whose land is besieged by the forces of the evil spirit Sharnoscet. (In case it’s not obvious, almost all proper names in the game are slight alterations of characters and places in the Tolkienverse. “Sharnoscet” is an anagram for “Hans Coster.”) To get to Locklorien, you have decided to travel through the Caverns of Mordia, full of horrid creatures and encounters, because it is the route the enemy will least suspect.

The game suffers from a few originality issues.

Character creation involves answering a few simple but unusual questions. After your name, you’re given the option to start at the surface with a basic kit or jump right into a lower level of the dungeon with a full set of equipment–in effect a shortcut for players who have already been through the opening a bunch of times. The normal exit to the game is on Level 25, but at the outset you can also specify that you’d like a second exit on Level 35, in case you fall down a pit or just want to amass a higher score before winning. I’m not sure that there are any drawbacks to saying “yes” to that question.

A few questions during character creation.

You begin at a dwarven market, where you don’t have enough gold to buy anything, but can later return. Your opening resources are a dagger, a dragon net, a magic staff, a wand, a lamp, the Orb of Power, 400 agility, and 400 strength. Strength serves as both literal strength and a health reserve.

The game begins in an empty room.

Upon entering the caves, gameplay proceeds something like a roguelike with a concept map instead of an actual map. The dungeon consists of at least 35 levels. The manual is unclear, but it’s possible that levels are generated indefinitely (I made it to Level 44 before I died). Each level can consist of up to 16 rooms, with the contents of the room and the connections between them randomly established every time you change levels. They can even be reconfigured while you’re still on a level if you encounter “tremors.”

A text simulation of an earthquake.

Room 1 on each level is a special room in which you can do a couple of useful things. First, you can (Command 0) use the Orb of Power to return to the dwarven market and buy a gas mask (500 gold), a magic two-handed sword (3000 gold) or extra Lymphas Bread. Second, you can (Command 27) exchange your accumulated experience for extra agility or strength. You don’t always want to exchange all of it, however, because your unspent experience is used in some of the formulas for hitting and damaging monsters.

Spending some of my hard-won experience.

Other rooms can contain all kinds of perils depending on the dungeon level, including:

Poisonous gas, which depletes your two characteristics unless you quickly put on a gas mask, and then the gas mask itself causes a 5% attribute loss per turn.

The game warns you about poisonous gas at the beginning, but you won’t be able to afford that gas mask for a while.

Drop-offs, including ones that you can see and hidden ones that dump you unceremoniously to the next level.

Gusts of wind that blow out the lamp and make it impossible to see what’s in the room until you make a movement for a turn and the lamp re-ignites.

Webs spun by the giant spider Araneida, which immobilize you for one or more turns.

Orcs. You can kill them in regular combat.

Dragons. You can also kill them in regular combat or try to trap them with a net first.

A dragon and an orc guard this room with a chest. Because I have a Dragon Occular, I can see the dragon’s health.

Trolls. They always appear to guard the Mithril Armor. I believe they’re new to the second edition.

Balrogs.

Giant vampire bats.

Demons, which can’t be killed through normal combat, only charmed.

Araneida, the giant spider.

Goblins, who can’t be attacked and simply steal one of your potential inventory items (the Dragon Occular) and flee.

Mithril armor is guarded by orcs, demons, vampire bats, and trolls.

The same rooms can also contain useful equipment and assets, including:

Gold. You can’t directly pick it up. Instead, every time you make a move, there’s a chance of grabbing a certain percentage of it.

Chests with gold, elven flares, or Lymphas Bread. Chests can be trapped with serpents that bite you.

The Charm Ring, which stuns demons.

Finding the Charm Ring is a key moment in early gameplay.

The Dragon Occular, which lets you see the relative strength of dragons

Mithril Armor. I believe it is new to the second edition.

The One Ring, which works pretty much as in the book. It renders you invisible while you wear it, but the “evil one” can sense its presence, and every turn you wear it carries an increasing chance of a debilitating spell. I also think this is new to the second edition.

Rooms with various assets and dangers are a staple of games in The Wizard’s Castle variety, but what keeps Caverns of Mordia unique is that any combination of these things can exist together in the same room. You might wander into a room with poison gas, an orc, 500 gold pieces, and 6 vampire bats, and then immediately have your torch blown out. You might descend into a room with an orc, and a dragon, have your Dragon Occular stolen by goblins, and then immediately fall through a hidden hole in the floor. You might be in the middle of a battle against four trolls for some Mithril Armor only to have a tremor reconfigure the dungeon level before you can defeat them.

A fairly simple room with demons, a few room connections, and a way up.

You have a surprising number of options for dealing with these threats, all with potential risks. You can run away to another room, or climb up or down if those passages are open, but running carries a risk of getting swatted by enemies as you leave. You can simply attack with your dagger, or spend an extra round pulling out your two-handed sword (after you’ve bought it), but the sword sucks your strength every turn and only improves your chances against some monsters. You can light an elven flare to blind monsters and improve your chances of hitting them. You can use the staff, which will obliterate orcs, demons, bats, and poison gas and create a tunnel down, but only if it doesn’t backfire and damage you instead. You can try to reach Room 1 in a hurry by taking one of Araneida’s tunnels, but it carries a risk that she’ll bite you on the way. You can point a wand at the ceiling and try to create an escape hole upward.

A more deadly room on Level 6 has an orc, a dragon, and demons.

In short, every room has a lot of tactical possibilities depending on who and what you find there, your current attributes, and what equipment you carry. Upon arrival in a room, you have to decide what takes priority, and whether it makes most sense to fight or flee. You get experience for every successful action, and it adds up fast. Your fortunes wax and wane with astounding swiftness. At times, I’d be down to a few thousand strength, reach Room 1 exhausted, and then find I had 600,000 accumulated experience points to pump into the attribute. Other times, I’d be wandering around confidently with over 100,000 in each attribute, fall through a few holes, meet a balrog, and get the “game over” screen.

Every nine moves, the game has you camp for the night–sometimes, this happens right in the middle of combat. (The manual hand-waves this by saying that you’re magically transported to a pocket dimension for the duration of your rest.) The sleep has a chance of adding 20% to each attribute, and it shows you a currently inventory and mission log when you awaken. You can call this report at any time with a numeric command.

The “cave report” is a simultaneous inventory screen, status report, and rest break.

Overall, the strategy is to build agility and strength slowly on lower levels by killing orcs and charming demons. Rooms get more complex and events more chaotic the further you descend. Once you start killing dragons, and particularly once you start killing balrogs, your experience can increase by hundreds of thousands per level, but your strength and agility can also decrease with equal rapidity, and after Level 15, I was constantly searching for Room 1, often risking Araneida’s tunnel to get there. Such gameplay provided an exciting, nerve-racking experience, mitigated only by the fact that you can save every time you find Room 1 and teleport back to the dwarven market.

Although mostly text-based (and without any sound at all), the game occasionally offers some ASCII animation of your character fleeing battles or descending dungeons.

Running from monsters sends a little ASCII guy scurrying across the screen.

The same guy transitions between levels.

If you die, the game gives you a summary of your character’s actions and an estimation of how close he was to winning the game.

This guy didn’t do so well.

Winning involves exiting the dungeon successfully on Level 25 or 35, which you do as soon as you wander into the room with the exit. You get a satisfying text narrative and a summary screen of your activities. It took me about six total hours and four characters to win. To do so, I did take advantage of occasional saving. Winning without saving, as in a roguelike, would be a hardcore way to do it.

The final text wraps things up nicely.

My final stats for my winning character.

I recorded about 10 minutes of video to include the opening, exploration, combat, and the ending. The character dies a couple of times, and the encounters leading to his death give you some idea of the “oh, #$@*” nature of gameplay, as you careen from room to room trying to get a break from the relentless onslaught of demons and dragons.

youtube

I don’t like to stress the GIMLET rating for early exploratory titles like this. I gave it a 20, scoring it best in “gameplay” (5) for a certain replayability and a difficulty and duration commensurate with its content. It doesn’t check all the RPG boxes, but that’s not quite as important as the spirit of innovation that the game represents. On the cusp of an era where 80% of their titles will receive their DNA from Ultima or Wizardry, it’s nice to see a few games that imagined computer role-playing in different ways.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/game-316-caverns-of-mordia-1980/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

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