#Donnie is similar in that he’s just VERY SELECTIVE about what he thinks is too gross | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marvelite624 · 2 years

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It took some talking, but I convinced 'Tidbits' to step aside and let me at least try the keyhole. She warned me that opening the door might be dangerous, for Donny especially. She hinted that I may actually be pleased with the turn of events...that Donny and others too, might somehow benefit from what was happening down those stairs. So I knelt and attempted to peer into the blackness beyond the door.

Just as I'd expected. Nothing, absolutely nothing, a classic exercise in futility. No light, no sounds...it was as dark and silent as the grave. That thought sent an involuntary shudder down my spine. I thought maybe, just maybe...and, closing my eyes, I placed my palms against the door and tried with everything I had, to concentrate on my boyfriend. Still nada. I felt as though something was blocking me somehow.

One thing did return though, something once like fleeting smoke to me. I recalled my own attempt to traverse those stairs, how I was halted and sent away. Like distant horns through a morning fog, I heard once more, the voice telling me to be patient, "all in due time" was the gist of the message then. The voice on the radio, though electronically altered, was very similar to the first. How could I simply forget such a thing.

Sarah broke the tension, "Becka, honey? Why don't you come sit with Momma while we wait for Donny? Gil won't open the door. Will you, Gil?...Gil?" Becka lay her hand briefly on my shoulder as I squatted there in desperation. "No...I won't. Something tells me, it wouldn't open even if I tried." 'Tidbits' grinned mischievously and joined her mother at the table.

"How about those pancakes, Sar?", Frankie asked. "Oh, yeah! I bet Donny's gonna be really hungry when he comes back up! You want to help me, baby?" Becka nodded. My brother, like the rest of us, was starved but, I believe he was really trying to occupy some idle hands...and minds. I wished I could think of something else. This crazy wait was making me nuts. "Don't sweat it, Gil." Frankie was trying hard to sound nonchalant as he reassured me. "Our resident authority thinks this is a good thing. She hasn't been wrong yet, has she?"

He was right, of course; some part of me was sure of it. But, what if it were Sarah, alone in that dark cellar? Would he still be so patient? What if it were Rebecca? What then? He was trying to help ease my mind, as worried for me as he was for Donny, I think. Appreciated yes, working?... not much. The clock continued to tick and no matter how crazy it made me, I could only wait, wait and hope. Like the child I'd grown out of long ago, I actually crossed my fingers. Like the loving brother he'd always been, Frankie crossed his too, smiling and patting my busy, fidgeting leg. "He's okay, Gil, you'll see."

What the hell? "Can I help with anything, Sarah?", I needed a distraction and she knew it. "Sure you can, hon. Wash your hands and grab that pack of bacon from the second drawer down. Lay the strips in this skillet for me, okay?" The batter was mixed and she'd already begun to pour out cakes on the griddle. Normally, the bacon would have been underway already. I guess we're all a little 'off our games' tonight.

After a few minutes, the smell of the bacon began to fill the air. Our stomachs, already on strike, started a protest march airing a long list of grievances. The strips were thin and Sarah was already selecting some for serving. She made 'Tidbits' a plate and got her seated. Frankie poured the syrup for her. After only a few bites, Becka lay down her fork saying, "They're coming!" As she spoke, she pointed a finger at the cellar door.

I grew more impressed with that four year old every time she opened her mouth. I stood, wringing my hands, already clammy despite the recent washing. Wait a minute..."they"? Who's "they"? The door swung open slowly. Donny was there...and in his arms, Peskers, purring away. Okay, "they". None of us had even noticed the cat was missing, concerned for Donny as we were. "Are you alright, babe?"

Donny smiled the biggest smile I'd ever seen on that face. It was a beautiful sight! He was a beautiful sight! "Never better, Gilbert! Dyin' from hunger but otherwise, I feel great! Super even!" I hurried to him, arms out, as he released Peskers, leaping to floor and scampering away. I grabbed him and squeezed, he wrapped his powerful arms around me and squeezed back. I'm pretty sure I heard some bones cracking but, no matter...he was with me again, he was there, he was...oh...my...God...he was hot as hell, burning up!

I took a step back and put my palm to his forehead. "Jeez, Donny! How can you feel great? You've got to be at least 104!" "Oh, it's nothin', Gilly...we're made from stars, ya know. Is that bacon I smell? Man, I'm hungry!" Sarah joined the conversation, "Sit down, big guy. One plate of pancakes and bacon comin' up! You want coffee with that?" Donny, still a little strange, just said, "Uh-huh.", and seated himself. He and Becka exchanged a high-five across the table, she followed with a thumbs up, lifted her fork, and began to eat once more. Curiouser and curiouser.

Sarah was frying up the last of the bacon as she served both Frankie and Donny. She told me to pull up a chair, "You and I will be joining these boys in just a minute." "Okay.", I said, "Just gonna take care of this first." I got the brilliant idea to close the cellar door and put my back to the table as I about-faced, Donny addressed me without even turning to see what I'd meant. "No need for that, Gilbert m'love. Bizjaxnif... Bidganxips...oh, crap...whats'is name will be along directly. Not to worry but, you're about to get some company." I spun around yet again, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sarah, looking past me, gasped...as did Frankie, who rose from the table, "What the...? Brother walk this way, don't ask questions, just do it...now!" I took several steps and the smell hit me! "Sarah... the bacon!" The skillet was smoking and the smell was quickly filling the room. Without turning, she backed to the counter and made her way across to the stove. The skillet was very hot to the touch and burned her hand as she slid it off the eye. "Ow...dammit!"

Frankie got weird then. He slapped wildly at his right arm and the lights began to flicker. His eyes rolled back in his head as he began frantically repeating the same thing, over and over, "Sarah, burning my bacon! Sarah, burning my bacon! My bacon!" Two bulbs popped before Becka reached him. "Daddy, no! You're home now! Here wiff us! Jus bacon, Daddy... nothin' else, jus bacon!" She'd latched onto his right arm...the glow returned to her eyes, brighter than before. My brother sank to his knees and sat back on his haunches. His daughter, now at his back, stretched both arms around him and just held on. Finally, I turned to see what they'd been gawking at.

Standing there, still framed in darkness at the doorway...was one of 'them'! One of the things that took my mother away from me. I wanted so badly to strike out! To take justice for her... revenge for myself! But, as quickly as it came, the urge subsided. I made comparisons to previous flashes and images culled from my dreams and noticed some differences in this one. A nose? A...a mouth? The skin was changed too and the 'cowbell' now hung around its' neck...so he might continue to speak through it, I assumed. At my first thought of it, the radio came to life yet again.

🎶🎵 "Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet... B-b-baby, you just ain't seen n-nothin' yet! Here's somethin', here's somethin', here's a number you're never gonna forget...🎵🎶

With Sarah's help, Frankie was rising shakily to his feet. Sarah tried to stay in front of her daughter, protectively. Becka, clapping now exclaimed, "Oh, I wuv this song!" and then began to sing along. Donny, who'd sat eating his pancakes this entire time, answered her, "Me too, Baby-girl...a classic!"

The scenario playing out before me was so perfectly insane, I wondered if I'd lost my damn mind. I pondered the possibility that I might have gone over the edge and was actually still on my knees peering through that keyhole into black nothingness. The music stopped suddenly. 'Tidbits' and Donny almost in unison, "Aw-ww!" expressing their disappointment. And now, that warbly voice returned.

"This one hoped to avoid causing a stir upon greeting you. Did my attempt at levity help at all to calm you? The seed...no, your Rebecca, assured me it would." Peskers was at the creature's feet doing figure eights, rubbing his little face up and down as he went.

My brother and his wife stood embraced, facing eachother. Sarah's head rested on his chest as she softly sobbed. She herself had used 'levity' all evening, trying to lessen tensions in all this craziness. But, finally, it became more than she could bear. Becka tugged at her mother's shirt tail saying, "It's okay, Momma...this is my fren. I thought he was a ghos-es at first, but he's not. He wants to help us! All of us!"

Frankie was the first to address our new houseguest. "So, what's your name? What do we call you?" Donny interjected, "Oh, hell! You're gonna love this!"

"My designation is unpronouncable in your tongue and far too tedious for use here. Your speech is so quaint and beautiful in its' simplicity. Address this one as your offspring has from the start. Call me simply, 'Fren'. Yes, that shall be my name."

Was that a smile gracing the creature's face? It dawned on me that he may have just smiled for the very first time in his entire existence. Wow, we humans have a way of rubbing off on everyone, I guess. My stomach growled...loudly. "You want to split the meatloaf with me, Sarah?" She had just delivered a quick kiss to Frankie and was wiping her eyes, "There's mac-n-cheese too, Gil. I'll get it." "No, you won't! I'll get it. The only thing I want you to 'get' is, off your feet! Sit, lady!

Fren spoke up, "It is this one's understanding that you still possess 'lots of apples'. May I please, have 'lots of apples'?"

We all paused, exchanging looks. If we all weren't so emotionally spent, we might have laughed at Fren's awkwardness. And then, there was Donny, who'd seemed almost well, intoxicated since his return. The delayed reaction showed excellent, if unintentional timing. He let go with a deep, loud belly laugh, smacking the tabletop giddily! "Now that's funny! Somebody get Fren some apples!" He continued to laugh, "Lots'a apples!" Proving again how contagious we can be, all of us joined the laughter. All but Fren, that is...I don't think he knew how...not yet.

(continued in Part 17)

•This is an original work of fiction and labor of love, written by me, Terry G. Nunley.

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elladescent449-artspace · 3 years

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It Started with the Milk: Chapter 4 - Out of

Leo screamed into his pillow. It was noon and he hadn’t gotten a minute of rest. He had zoned out once or twice, but nothing worthy of the name ‘sleep’ occurred in the 8 hours he had laid there. He had tried everything. Turning, tossing, blanket, no blanket, a trip to the bathroom, sit ups, boring reading, warm milk (he didn’t need anymore tea). Nothing had worked.

He flipped back over onto his shell and stared at the bottom of the shelves above his bed. Then sighed and pulled his pillow over his face, maybe if he suffocated himself he could catch an hour or two. Maybe he could suffocate himself, and listen to music at the same time, that way he could blink out of consciousness to the sound of Enya. With one hand he started patting around for his phone, when he couldn’t find it blindly he sat up and scanned the room. He checked under his blanket and pillow, and then checked the shelving above his bed. Nothing. Forget music, how was he supposed to get his social media fix if he didn’t have his phone? He considered just leaving his room for a moment but bypassed the thought by selecting a random magazine from his book shelf. With a quick flip he opened it to a random page and started reading an article about the physics associated with throwing ‘the perfect basket’. He was bored within two sentences.

Leo opened the curtain to his room, “Hey! Has anyone seen my phone?” The common space was dim, only the christmas lights above the vert ramp provided any sort of lighting. Leo stepped into the center of the room. He scanned briefly, listening for any indication that his brothers were home. “Raph, Mikey? Dad?” No response. He yawned and stretched, trying to rub some of the irritation out of his eyes.

Leo checked the living room first, Dad’s projector was off, and his seat was empty (both of these being very rare occurrences.) The only remnants of someone being in the kitchen was the stack of dirty dishes in the sink, the turtle tank was still in the garage, but nobody was in it, and the gaming room was untouched. Leo even mustered up the courage to check the bedrooms. All empty. Leo reentered the common room and dragged his hand across the vert-ramp as he passed it, placing himself back into the center of the room as the disturbing feeling of anxiety crept in. He spoke quietly to himself, “where is everybody?”

“They went to the store.” Leo jumped and whipped around. Donnie was sitting on the ledge of the second floor idly swinging his legs as he watched Leo from above. “They won’t be back for a while.”

Leo’s throat was dry, making his reply sound choked. “Oh.” He looked towards his bedroom, wondering why he even left it in the first place. “They left in the middle of the day?”

“Yeah,” Donnie leaned back in his seat, stretching his back until there was a pop. “Dad said something about this being the best time of the day to shop.”

Leo grimaced at the thought, Dad probably shaved himself again and now Mikey and Raph were stuck with him and his “cool-kid” outfit. There was an awkward beat of silence and Leo looked back to his room. The thought of being alone in the house with Donnie was making him feel a sense of dread in his guts, maybe he could slip out for the day and go skating again, just until Dad and his other two brothers got home, or maybe he could meet up with them? Leo could also just be on the topside long enough for this feeling to go away, ‘nothing like some fresh air,’ he thought. He could always visit Albearto land. They were pretty crowd-free during the mid-day, especially considering the dreary weather, and they didn’t mind the “costumes”. Leo took a deep breath in and clapped his hands together. “Well… good to know,” he took a side step back in the direction of his room, he’d just grab his hoodie and his board, he’d forget about the phone for now (god forgive him), and he’d be back before in an hour or two when everybody else was home, “catch ya’ later!”

“Now, hold on,” Donnie jumped down from the second floor, “what particular activities do you have scheduled for today, oh, brother of mine?”

“Ha ha, well…” come on, think of something, “I was gonna hit up Albearto Land for a couple of hours, y’know... just hang out, grab some funnel cake-”

Donnie interjected with an arm around Leo’s shoulder. “I absolutely love funnel cake! Let’s go together. We can take the tank.”

“Aw, you don’t have to do that…” Donnie’s face was too close and not cheery enough to ease the ball that formed in Leo’s intestines, “I know you're super busy, with the surprise and everything.”

“For you, and funnel cake?” Donnie looked away thoughtfully, “it can wait.”

A shudder ripped through him, Leo tried slipping out from under Donnie’s arm, there was a moment where Donnie tightened his grip before letting him go. Leo pushed off and looked back towards his room, he didn’t mean for his eyes to fall on his sword, but they did. Why did he want it in his hands so badly right now? He tore away his gaze and focussed back on Donnie. “No thanks.”

Donnie gave a confused chuckle. “No thanks to what?”

Leo was blunt now, “I don’t really feel like hanging out with you today,” he turned away as he began walking again.

“Why not?” Donnie gave an aggravated huff, “we haven’t hung out enough, just us two.” He put his hands up defensively and circled Leo to get closer. “How did you put it? The “Cool Colors?””

Leo twitched at that. He tried closing the curtain behind him but Donnie ripped it back open,he was in his space now and the discomfort was making Leo’s skin crawl.

“C’mon Leo,” he whined, “we could hit up ‘Run of the Mill’ on our way there, I know you love their pizza.”

Leonardo ignored the quiet grumble in his stomach at the mention of Hueso’s, “I’m not hungry right now,” he pulled his board from the wall and looked back at his sword. Should he take it with him? “Plus, I love all pizza… Donnie.” The name didn’t feel right on his tongue. Leo clipped his belt on and attached his sword, he immediately felt a wash of relief ease his senses when he felt the pressure of it against his shell. Now he just needed to get out of here.

“You’re passing up Run of the Mill?” Donnie chuckled again, “you must really not be feeling good.” Donnie leaned against the door of Leo’s room and tilted his head with concern. “Been getting enough sleep?” There was something smug in his voice and Leonardo fought a scowl.

Leo only grumbled as he finished slipping on his hoodie. “Bye.”

“Wait, what was that about your phone earlier? I could help you find it.”

“I don’t need it.” He bumped shoulders with Donnie on his way out of his room.

“No, no, here,” Donatello whipped out his own phone and quickly typed, “I’ll just call it right now.”

“It’s on vibrate,” Leo growled, “and I said I don’t need it!” It wasn’t about the phone, he just didn’t want to be in the house with Donnie any longer.

Purple grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. “It’s ringing, just hang out for a minute,” he cooed.

Leo wanted to growl, to push him off, or just shout, but then he heard the loud vibration of his cell coming from inside his room.

“Well, whaddya know!” Donnie smiled and let go of Leo. “It’s right there in your room!”

Donnie looked to Leo expectantly. Leo felt the tension rise as neither of them said anything. The sound of Leo’s phone repeated itself and Leonardo glanced towards his room, and then back to Donnie who stood behind him looking coy. ‘Just leave, now.’ The small voice inside of him chastised him for still being here, at home, with Donnie. But… If it was right there… why not just grab it and go? The vibrations stopped and Donnie’s expression faltered for a moment.

“Here.” Donnie stretched his phone out to Leo, “find your phone and we’ll head to Albearto’s together, I bet I can beat more of their games than you.” Donatello’s teasing sounded softly sincere, but Blue still frowned. Leo wanted to argue. He did not want to go anywhere with him. He didn’t want to go to Albearto’s with him, he didn’t want to go to Hueso’s with him, he didn’t want to be in the tank with him, and he didn’t want to be home with him! Leo’s whole body was screaming for him to leave, just ditch the phone, leave it, you don’t need it, just leave it! He took the phone from Donnie’s hand and quickly typed in his own number.

The vibrations started again and Leo tentatively re-entered his room. Leo paused in the doorway. The noise was coming from under his bed. That’s right! He suddenly remembered last night, he remembered tossing his phone across the sheets and hearing it hit the floor. He looked towards Donnie again, who turned away when Leo looked at him, before getting down on his hands and knees. Leo could see that it was near the foot of the bed, vibrating with Donnie’s picture illuminating on the screen. Leo hung up Donnie’s phone and reached, quickly feeling the cool case of his own phone under his finger pads. Leo grasped it and pulled it out, sighing with relief as he slipped it in his hoodie pocket.

Leo jolted when Donnie’s phone went off. A quick check of the screen told him it was April.

He slid the green phone button to the left, “Why hello-”

“Donnie!” April shouted from across the speaker, causing Leo to flinch and pull the receiver away from his ear. “Where are you?”

“Uh, sorry April,” he hesitated as he stumbled up to his feet. “This is Leo.”

“Where. Is. Donnie!” She was obviously furious. Behind her Leo could hear something animal. “I told him about this a week ago!”

Leo stood up in confusion. “What do you mean, April… where are you?”

“I’m in the mystic city,” the sound of something similar to a crowing rooster sounded behind the call, “Mayhem needed to go to the vet and Donnie was supposed to pick me up an hour ago!”

“What?” Leo was confused, “What’s wrong with Mayhem?”

April continued, “Donnie shouldn’t have taken my bike if he was gonna take two weeks to “improve” it! I get it, a simple bike is a little old fashioned but two weeks?!”

“Where are you in the city?” He heard April muffle the call as she asked someone the exact address, Leo turned to see Donnie standing on the threshold of his room. The center room was dim, but Leo’s room was dimmer. The light behind Donatello painted him into a hauntingly solemn figure as he stood motionless in Leo’s doorway. Leo heard April on the other end but didn’t look away from Donnie. “Sorry, what was that?

She sighed into the receiver, “I said, I’m under Central Park zoo.”

That was a good six miles away from where Leo was now, he suppressed a yawn as he spoke softly into the receiver, “is Sunita available, she’s closer.”

“No!” April shouted across the phone again, “Sunita is the one that got me here and she can’t pick me up because she’s at an event with her Dad, Donnie was supposed to be here! He promised!”

‘Well, that settles it then,’ Leo thought. He replied quickly as he moved to exit his room, “I’ll come get you.” Donnie’s fists clenched tightly and he stared at the phone in Leo’s hand as he passed. Leo ignored it but quickened his pace.

April sighed audibly. “Fine, but please get here quickly. For a city that’s underground they sure do get a lot of rainfall.”

“K, I’ll be there in a ‘sec.” He heard the line cut and the phone was pulled out of his hand. Leo turned to see Donnie smiling again, motioning towards the garage.

“Ready to go?”

Leo paused, confused. “Go…?”

“Albearto Land, remember?” Donnie laughed and grabbed Leo by the wrist. Leo felt a shiver crawl up his arm as Donnie bagan to pull him.

“Didn’t you hear me on the phone?” Leo shrugged Donnie’s hand off and backed up a step, rubbing the skin where Donnie had touched him trying to get rid of the feeling.“That was April.”

“So?”

So. So? “So… she said that you were supposed to pick her up today?”

Donnie hummed as he positioned his hands on his hips, “y’know… now that you mention it, she did say something about, um…” He hummed again with a smile, “sorry, I don’t remember.”

Leo stood stupefied before turning around. “I’ll see you later Donnie, I’m going to go get April.” “Wait,” he heard Donnie walk after him, “she’ll be fine, let’s just head out and she can just get a cab or something.” Purple’s voice was getting more impatient the more Leo walked.

“She’ll be fine, Leo, come on.”

Leo’s fists clenched and he felt a heat in his stomach as he walked faster. Flipping his hood on, he growled, “Donnie… shut up.”

Donatello paused and stopped, but only for a moment before he caught back up with Blue to put a hand on his shoulder, “What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Leo scoffed under his breath before he raised into a roar, “what’s wrong with you?!”

“What-”

“You all of a sudden want to spend time with me?” Leo spun around, facing Donnie and quickly closing the distance to point a finger in his chest. “And you ditched April?! That’s not the Donnie I know! So what’s your game?” He kept going, the weight in his tummy was fuel for the aggression that started pouring out of him, “i’ll admit it, the coffee was no big deal, but the back-wash, the staring, Shelldon? So what is it Donnie!” He screamed, flattening his hand against Purples chest but resisted pushing him. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Excuse me?” Donnie’s face darkened and Leo shivered under the icy stare. Leo moved to take a step back but Donnie grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie, pulling him back in close. “We’re brothers, right?”

Leo clasped onto Donnie’s wrist but it was set to an iron grip. Leo’s heart rate began to elevate and he could feel his own pulse through his throat. Donnie smiled.

“Brothers spend time together, right?”

“Donnie-” Leo’s hoodie squeezed around his throat as Donnie’s grip tightened.

“I just wanted to spend some time with you, Leo.” Donnie took a step back and Leo stumbled after him, trapped in this oddly strong grip that his twin held him in. “I’m always just shoving you off, and I’m sorry about that. I’m just trying to make it up to you.” He sounded sympathetic but his face was jeered into something menacing and mischievous.

“Let go, Don,” Leo gripped tighter on Donnie’s wrist, desperately trying to back up and pull away. The fire that was in his stomach was just petrified nausea now, screaming at him for not leaving when he had the chance.

Donatello continued, “is that so much to ask for?” Donnie tilted his head as he observed Leo. Leo was panting now, feeling a shake in his whole body as he desperately wanted to get away. Donnie’s expression flatlined, switching over to an expression of exhausted irritation and he sighed. “Ah, who am I kidding... you are the skeptical one of the family.” Donnie reached behind himself with his free hand and Leo’s vision shook as the hand on his Hoodie switched to his neck. “Let’s get this over with.”

Leo’s fist slammed into Donnie’s throat.

Donnie’s grip immediately released and he doubled over, clutching his airway as he backed away. Two black beads clattered to the floor but Leo ignored them for now.

Despite the chills, Leo immediately regretted his action, taking Donie by the shoulders as he began a coughing fit. “Donnie, I’m so sorry-” Donnie began retching. Leo moved behind Donnie, grasping him by the waist as he attempted to drag him to the edge of the common room so he could puke in the exposed water behind the vert ramp. Donnie grasped Leo by the sleeves, digging his heels into the concrete as he puked up liquid the color of tar.

Donnie slowly looked over his shoulder at Leo, and a long black mass slivered from his mouth over his shoulder.

Leo wasn’t able to process the elbow in his face until after he had staggered backwards. He brought his hands up to his face but didn’t cover his eyes, watching Donnie as he stood up straight. It was like a snake, or a tentacle, black and dripping with whatever was pooled on the floor. It slowly retracted itself, tracing over Donnie’s cheek as it slid through his teeth. Donatello shut his mouth with an audible ‘click’ and cracked his neck as he turned towards Leo. Donnie hummed, no, It hummed, and Leo finally remembered to breathe. Donnie’s bo expanded in Its hand and It took a step forward, spinning the tool theatrically as It took balanced steps around Leo.

Leo’s hands shook as he unsheathed his sword from under his hoodie, gripping the handle so tight his knuckles cramped. He took a step back for every step that It took towards him. Leo’s voice was shaky, almost as shaky as the pulse that he felt in his head and his heart, “what are you?”

It wasn't painting faces anymore. It’s expression was fixed into something both dark and dreamy as it stared Leo down. With a click of it’s tongue, It gave it’s answer with a wicked smile. “I’m Donnie.” Then It lunged.

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cannibal-wings · 5 years

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As per usual I have failed to stick to one question lmfao! In regards to the ask thing the numbers I have chosen are 1,3,5,6 and 19. Fandoms are Venom and Outlast.

Venom:1: What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?This one is hard right off the bat because I ship most everything in Venom RIP. I guess for movie verse Venom/Riot. I suppose it has the whole leader/subordinate thing going on, which could be appealing to some. And obviously there’s a power imbalance which some people like. I’d much prefer Drake/Riot. I guess in a similar vein, Eddie/Drake? Again, I can see the appeal but it’s not my appeal, at least not with these two.3.Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? Not for Venom, mostly because I only follow a handful of people and we all have similar tastes. HOWEVER I’ve def not followed someone because of posts I see in the tags. Usually people who bash Flash Thompson too much, or go on huge tangents about how Venom was “ruined” by being made an anti hero, or people who praise the current writer Donny Cates writing as amazing. I will also unfollow or refuse to follow anyone who gate keeps, especially in comics. 5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you? Not yet! Not Venom at least. Fandom has ruined ships for me in the past in other fandoms. But Venom seems to be mostly ship drama free. 6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?Because I came into Venom so late and speed read everything so quickly I never got a chance to formally create ships before joining a fandom. I suppose I was never huge on like Eddie/Peter or Venom/Peter until I joined a Venom server and people were talking about it. 19. What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?I’d say Cates but he’s not in the fandom so he doesn’t count. I think with Venom the thing I hate the most is when people are unable to see the context of shipping Eddie/Venom through the years. When people label all of us “crazy shipping fangirls” (wow as a queer man that sure does feel great lmao) for speaking up for a ship that was canon and has had years and years queer coding and subtext. There is a small subset of people in the fandom, mostly on Twitter, who will disregard any opinion you have on the story if you ship Symbrock. As if a ship somehow makes it so you can’t formulate opinions or have reading comprehension. There are a few vocal people who claim that the shippers ruined Venom, ha, we’ve heard that before right? Or the people who claim we only ship it because of the movie. That it was somehow our fault retroactively that they made Eddie and Venom anti-heroes and that he was better off a one note character villain for Spider-Man to beat up. Outlast1: What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?I want to say Eddie/Way soooo bad but I get why people ship that. Silky variant ships always amused me. Usually it’s Silky/Pyro. Both of the characters have so little to go on that it’s hard to imagine any shipping that doesn’t involve 95% headcanon. WAIT NO I JUST CHANGED MY MIND. I saw Blaire/Lisa once and BOY I DO NOT GET THAT ONE. hahaha. 3.Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? Again, nope. Not really. I’ve avoided following people when I see their opinions in the tags. I’m very selective with who I follow to begin with. I will rarely follow multiple people in a fandom, and instead prefer to just tag dive and select content from there to like or reblog. 5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you? I used to be ok with Eddie/Waylon but after the fandom ran it into the ground for a few years as the only pair being written about I developed an aversion to it. It also doesn’t help that much of the fic and fanart were on the same themes, same plots, and most of those plots were things I just didn’t care for. 6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?Most of the ships I hate in Outlast I continue to hate and I’m not sure fandom will ever make me swing in the other direction for them. You’d have to have give me some damn good evidence or like, a really nice fic.19. What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom? The Outlast game series tackles a lot of tough topics. It touches on a lot of really terrible shit. And I think if I had to pick a thing I hate the most about the fandom, besides all the people who used to or still say “yaoi” all the time... I guess I’d say the amount of people who don’t treat the subject matter of the games and their fic with the kind of respect they deserve. I could elaborate more on this later if anyone wants, but I feel very strongly that when you write taboos in fiction you have to give them the respect that they deserve. When you write darkfic you have to really understand the underlying messages in what your fiction is saying. So much thought should be put into some of the issues this game has. And I think as a fandom it’s out duty to do better than Red Barrels did at conveying and depicting these attributes. This is one reason I really, really, REALLY, hated when the fandom JUMPED to assign Val as a transwomen, because I don’t think many of the people thought through what that implies. And whenever you try to start discussion on it, or at least when you did, the fandom is dead now so I’d be hard pressed to find anyone actually starting “discourse” anymore, but people would jump in with a bunch of opinions that didn’t really relate back to how that headcanon could be bad in today’s current society.

#I'm not tagging these with the fandoms because no one likes to see salt in the tags #lady-of-lazulis-island

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lifeonashelf · 5 years

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CHURCH, THE

I feel kind of bad for The Church. Here you have this outfit who perfected a strain of moody indie rock with lush psychedelic flourishes, except they did so a few zeitgeists too early and peaked about twenty years before the sound they were instrumental in shaping started being deemed stylish by hipster tastemakers (actually, they did it about twenty years before hipsters were even a thing, back when cassettes were fashionable the first time). If their most enduring record—1988’s Starfish—was released today, Pitchfork writers would be tripping over themselves while racing for their laptops to vigorously espouse its merits (then after everyone else caught on to how good The Church is, these same writers would inevitably turn against them and start including them in articles with titles like: “20 Crappy Bands That Hipsters Love”). The group would likely be enjoying the same level of chic esteem as squads like Interpol and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club—bands that are regarded as cool both because they actually are cool, and because people who regard themselves as cool also regard those bands as cool. It naturally follows, then, that The Church would be the third or fourth-billed name in the Saturday line-up for next year’s Coachella, after which assorted dudes with excessively-manicured facial hair would pause between gusts of mango-papaya vape to expound on how “ah-may-zing” their set was (though they would go on to insist the true highlight of the festival was Sia’s performance, which they would—also—designate as “ah-may-zing”).

The Church also arrived a bit too early to benefit from the 1990’s alternative explosion, an epoch during which they would have surely gotten along famously, probably sold at least as many records as the Gin Blossoms, and ostensibly been written in as a favorite band of the character played by Claire Danes on My So-Called Life (Angela Chase never specifically mentioned The Church on that show, but I still sincerely think she probably did like them and I’m reasonably certain “Reptile” was her go-to cut; I doubt Jordan Catalano enjoyed their stuff very much, though—Angela would have been all, like, “hey, let’s listen to this Church CD,” and he would have fluttered his eyelashes and been all, like, “nah”).

Unfortunately, even in their own era, the band’s timing was inopportune. An effective LP like Starfish had all the potential in the world to set up The Church as a benchmark of the thriving college radio circuit, which reasonably could have segued them to continued success in the decidedly guitar-friendly age to come. However, they had to settle for relegation to the middle-ground because they happened to release that record in 1988, a year during which numerous sonic purveyors who would ultimately define the impending alt-rock movement in The Church’s stead released seminal works that were so trailblazing they inevitably made Starfish’s more discreetly-admirable fare sound underwhelming by comparison. While the album boasts four stellar tunes and six solid others, I don’t think anyone could successfully argue that Starfish is anywhere near as exhilarating as Jane’s Addiction’s Nothing Shocking, Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation, My Bloody Valentine’s Isn’t Anything, The Pixies’ Surfer Rosa, Soundgarden’s Ultramega OK, or Dinosaur Jr.’s Bug—to name just a few of the 1988-alumni discs which effectively set the tone for much of the decade following their release. Even if The Church wrote ten songs as fabulously hypnotic as “Destination”, they couldn’t have possibly competed against a roster of that caliber.

As things stand today, the group’s legacy rests in the realm of far more humble peers such as Soup Dragons and Aztec Camera—which is to say The Church is fondly remembered by dudes in their late-40’s who still wear Happy Mondays t-shirts and scour vinyl bins looking for elusive Charlatans UK singles, yet they rarely earn more than a passing mention in broader critical symposiums about the fertile ambit of 1980’s indie rock. Most people under the age of thirty-five only know The Church even existed because their song “Under the Milky Way” appeared in the most slavishly overrated cinematic offering released so far this century, Donnie Darko (granted, Donnie Darko is far from terrible—in fact, it very well may be one of the best movies ever made about a disturbed teenager who hangs out with a demonic ghost-bunny and travels back in time to masturbate in front of Drew Barrymore—but for all its meandering allegories and figurative virtuosity, the film is nowhere near as mind-bending as its Cult Classic status suggests). And here’s the kicker there: even with their best song prominently featured on a popular soundtrack during an era when popular soundtracks were still a thing—a circumstance which would seem ideal to trigger a contemporary reappraisal of The Church’s prowess—the band was outshined yet again. And this time it wasn’t a cadre of future legends who shoved them into the backseat, it was a now-forgotten singer-songwriter named Gary Jules, whose admittedly first-rate cover of “Mad World” usurped “Milky Way” as Donnie Darko: The Album’s breakout anthem and sparked a contemporary reappraisal of Tears For Fears instead. Even though Tears For Fears was objectively a better band than The Church, it still kind of sucks that Gary Jules dropped a fucking jet engine on the latter’s shining moment.

I hope The Church at least takes solace in knowing they are responsible for one of the most killer tunes ever recorded. “Under the Milky Way” remains an utterly magnificent creation, a five-minute slice of brilliance which is nigh impossible to dislike. Though only a modest hit when it was released—the single didn’t crack the Top-20 anywhere, not even in the collective’s home country of Australia—“Milky Way” nevertheless demonstrates the sort of definitive song-craft most bands could only dream they were capable of summoning. Its hooks are melodic and mesmerizing enough to immediately satisfy the ears of the most jaded pop purists, yet the multifarious arrangement is layered with supple intricacies which invite, and richly reward, a more duteous immersion (to put it in more articulate terms: the song sounds really simple, but there’s actually a whole lot of shit going on there). The brilliantly ambiguous lyrical stanzas are ripe for personal interpretation, unfurling the sort of stream-of-consciousness reverie that any listener searching for revelations can self-apply as they see fit (“Something shimmering and white leads you here, despite your destination / Under the milky way tonight”… ah-may-zing). As for me, I’ve listened to the track well over a hundred times in my life, and I still have no idea what it’s about—although I assume it’s either about fucking or dying, since just about every song ever written is inevitably about one of those two things. “Milky Way” is so entrancing, not even the presence of a densely-processed solo which sounds like braying bagpipes can shatter its dark spell (an old joke comes to mind here: Why do Scotsmen always walk while they’re playing their bagpipes? They’re trying to get away from the noise…). The sole other tune I can think of that accomplishes a similar feat is Korn’s “Shoots and Ladders”, which would still be extraordinary even with ten sets of bagpipes pealing through it, since it holds the distinction of being the only song in the history of recorded sound which inspires moshing alpha-males to savagely pummel each other while growling the words, “Knick knack paddywack, give the dog a bone, this old man came rolling home” (these lyrics naturally lead me to assume “Shoots and Ladders” is about both fucking and dying, concurrently).

I need to back up for a second here, because the more I listen to The Church, I’m starting to think their interment in the crowded mausoleum of ‘80s one-hit-wonders is probably more fitting than not (this concession sort of negates my original thesis for this piece, but fuck it). I do dig several of the tunes on Starfish a whole lot (I have yet to mention “North, South, East And West”, which supplies five more of the finest moments on the record), yet none of them are remotely as transcendent as “Under the Milky Way”. And my appreciation for the band’s dexterity, while potent in single-serving dosages, has not inspired me to seek out the rest of their surprisingly voluminous discography. Until I started writing this, I wasn’t even aware they are still active, nor that they have issued a full dozen records since Starfish (I just now checked out a couple clips from their most recent offering—2017’s Man Woman Life Death Infinity—and they were about what I expected: competent, but not remarkable). I am much fonder of The Church than I am of Soup Dragons or Aztec Camera, I would definitely select one of their shirts over a Happy Mondays tee if it came down to it, and I would be far more excited to stumble across the 12” for “Destination” in a record store bin than a whole stack of Charlatans UK singles. Nonetheless, I can’t think of any persuasive criteria under which I could possibly contend that Starfish is as essential a record as Daydream Nation (although, it is a way better record than Sonic Youth’s 2000 release NYC Ghosts & Flowers).

Ultimately, I guess all I can really say about The Church with conviction is that they made at least one really great album that I own and enjoy. Which is good enough for me, even if that rote conclusion makes all of the needlessly flowery paragraphs leading up to this one rather pointless. But I already wrote all that other shit, so I’m not going to go back and excise it now; there were a few decent jokes in there, and at my age, I can’t really afford to delete pages that I squandered several nights working on. It was a dumb premise, though—who the fuck am I to insinuate that the dudes who wrote a timeless classic like “Under the Milky Way” somehow didn’t realize their full potential? Especially when they’re still touring on the strength of that creation 30 years later, and all I’ve really managed to do in the last 30 years is get myself savagely pummeled by alpha-males at a few Korn shows while Jonathan Davis scatted nursery rhymes at me from the stage.

I suppose if I ever write about The Church in the future, I’ll give my notions a bit more thought before I type myself into a corner. For now, I think I’m just going to close this piece and allow it to simmer in its averageness. If I start tweaking these entries just because they aren’t any good, I’ll never finish a single one. And then who’s going to author middling essays about the hundreds of bands in my collection I haven’t gotten around to yet?

Like a bagpipe-wheezing Scotsman, I’ve got to keep moving. It’s time for this old man to come rolling home.

June 28, 2018

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pjstafford · 7 years

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David Duchovny's HOHW Tour Fan Girl Experience: Seattle

David Duchovny HOHW Tour Fan Girl Experience: Seattle: This is the first of five blogs on select topics related to my trip to Seattle to see David Duchovny. This one is about the over-all experience. Others will speak about the information provided at a book discussion, a review of the concert and music, the question to video or not to video, and the movie New Year’s Day. The last is a stretch but doing a separate blog will keep me from digressing on it in this blog. Brief recap. I wrote a blog related to the treatment of dark subject matter in David Duchovny’s written works across television, movies, novels and music lyrics. He quoted the tweet related to the blog and said the appreciation moved him. Many within the fan community of Duchovny including the Duchovniacs liked what I had written and wanted to be sure I made it to a concert this tour which I could not afford. Fans from around the world arranged for airfare. Cathy, a friend who I had connected with in Duchovny chat groups, offered concert and book discussion tickets, a place to stay, and incredible hospitality. Suddenly I was going to Seattle. I arrived Saturday late afternoon. What a delight to meet Cathy in person after six months of almost daily contact on Twitter! It was both of our first time seeing and meeting Mr. Duchovny. For the rest of this blog I will refer to him as David so I don’t sound like Darin Morgan. If you don’t catch the reference, then that's a great example of how nice it is to be with a person that speaks the language of the specific fandom. Neither Cathy nor I have that in our daily life away from social media. I see the Duchovny fandom and X-Files fandom as distinct but intersecting. The Darin Morgan reference is an X-Files reference. Cathy is an X-file enthusiast. I will never know as much as she does on the topic of the X-Files. I have seen more of David’s movies and read and listened to more interviews and articles than she has. It's a nice compliment to each other when you have a week-end of Duchovny planned. Both of us have similar experiences of being a fan in the 90’s of the X-Files without any fandom obsession, watching seasons 1-9 again to prepare for season 10, falling in love with X-files on a new level, but falling truly and completely in love with David’s music and novels. Neither of us have a history of fan girling since the Bobby Sherman/ Donny Osmond's days. Our first time meeting in person there was hardly any awkwardness at all- we were already friends. Now our friendship has deepened. It was great to meet her husband as well. We share an interest in science fiction, but I have sadly fallen decades behind. Definitely have things to read and stream on his advice. Sunday morning we took the ferry to Seattle, parked close to the Croc, went to find a marquee or poster on the Croc but didn’t. Found only his name on a calendar. It was a 25 minute walk to the book discussion. I wore my Lick My Face Shirt from Target Zero since I never am brave enough to wear it in public in Albuquerque anymore. The first couple of times it elicited some rude comments. I thought David Duchovny fans would know the reference. No…not a single one seemed to know the reference which makes me sad for Target Zero. I do have suggestions that Target Zero send little cards out with the shirt that can be passed out to explain to people the reason for the shirt. I would wear it more if I could easily deliver a card and it would increase awareness. I found in Seattle a complete different attitude towards this shirt from people who did not know the reference. I never felt uncomfortable. I received a lot of comments which started a lot of conversations. A very young man just stopping me telling me he loved it and a member of Keaton Simon band saying it was the best shirt ever when I was waiting in line are stand outs. I’m curious why they liked it so much without knowing the reference, but neither compliment was suggestive just sincere about their appreciation of the sentiment. I digress. It was a light rain overcast day which was perfect for the Seattle experience. Cathy and I kept saying “Let it Rain.” When we got to the book discussion an hour before the doors were opening there were four persons already there. Cathy and I went to get a cup of coffee and granola bar and then came back. By a half hour before the doors open the lines were forming down the street. They would end up with 600 people in attendance. The center section was reserved for members. Cathy and I found front row seats off to the side and felt so excited about how close we would be to David. It was nothing compared to how close we would be as the day progressed, but- not knowing that at the time- we were excited. Jess Walter, a writer from Washington, facilitated the discussion. Cathy was familiar with his writings and excited to see him as well. It turns out that David and Jess are longtime friends and so the discussion had this beautiful relaxed bantering and good questions from one writer to another. At one point Jess said, “I am the world’s foremost Duchovny scholar.” Cathy said she immediately thought “no you are not, Pam is.” I thought that was grand! Cathy took pictures and a couple of brief videos. I took a total of 10 minutes of video not in order but with different question and answers through-out the session. I took a lot of notes trying mostly to write all the quips David was saying. I am writing another blog on that so will just say the discussion piece was delightful. Then, came audience questions. Some personal history here is that six months ago while reading a passage of Bucky Fucking Dent related to the nature of America in 1978 and loving the way David had written about Carter losing the nation and a good-looking monster in California was waiting to take his place, I had told Cathy I would love to drink a glass of red wine with the man and discussed the American Protestant Work Ethic. Over the months we have referred to this as “my dinner with David” which is all in my head, of course, but I have developed a list of questions which I feel strongly I need to ask him – no, none on the X-Files. I say that because when Jess asked David about the most common question he is asked on his novel he said, “What’s your favorite episode of the X-files?” Cathy had always said she would never be able to ask him a question because she would be too shy. She had a good one she wanted to ask though. We were sitting in front of the microphone and she jumped up to ask a question. She asked the second question of the session. No hesitation. I was so proud of her. Her question was since the previous two books had been scripts turned into novels was his next novel, expected in 2018, “Miss Subways” first a script. The short answer was yes but the longer answer was in depth. Another highlight for me personally was a fan asking about one of David’s original poems. During the answer, Jess mentioned Eliot and David said “April is the Cruelest Month.” People who know me well know I love Eliot’s poetry and Mulder had once quoted this exact line while looking at a playboy. If it makes me a little geeky to remember that …well. There is one more element of questioning in this event important to a later piece of the blog. I don’t remember if it was in the discussion or the audience questions David was asked about why he toured. He feels it is a different way of expression and celebrating music which allows for audience interaction in a way he has never experienced before. As I described the audience participation later, you will see how important that piece is to him. He said it is unique for that audience and for just that time. He then said but everyone has a fucking phone and then it’s on you tube and then it is forever. Later in the QA before the concert he made a remark that showed his disdain for phone videos. I was going to ask a question at the book discussion, but didn’t have a chance. My question would have been about a difference in BFD between the main novel and the epilogue. They both have an omnipotent narrator but in the main novel you are in the action and in the moment. In the epilogue there is a distance that is controlled by come close, come closer still, come closer yet again. I’m curious why he wanted the distance in the epilogue portion of the novel. Alas, a question for another time. Once the questions was over, I looked at Cathy and said “we’re moving.” Great job of keeping up with me. I wanted to be sure we were through the book signing in time to not be too far behind in the line for the VIP concert experience. As you will see we did great with that, but it could have been a hard decision – stand in line for the book signing or get to the concert venue. We got from front of the theater to the lobby for the signing quickly to be within the first 100 in line (remember there were over 600) for the signing. We did well moving to get to that position. Fan Girl clapping all around. They had announced rules for the signing. He would sign only his books or CDs. No memorabilia. No personalization in the signature. I have both books in Kindle and Audible. I do not need a hard edition. Also, given how my adventure to get to Seattle had started with the blog and his retweet and people donating for me to attend, I really wanted him to sign a printed version of his tweet response to me. I know he had already responded in the tweet, but just because of the trip experience I wanted a signature on that tweet to frame. I didn’t think of it along the lines of memorabilia from X-Files. It was about his writing. So I braved the line to see what I would get with my breaking the rules approach. While waiting in line we had an opportunity to thank Jess Walter. I would certainly read his books. He is very funny. I was really appreciative for such a relaxed interview to see that side of David. First gate keeper was primarily responsible to make sure people were all set on the right page ready to hand it over in order to speed up the process, but was also checking what was being signed. She told me he would not sign the tweet, period, end of sentence. It was not happening. She was doing her job, but I persisted and she agreed that I could go up and try if I wanted, but he was not signing. The next gate keeper was right before David and Cathy was before me so I could not witness her experience, but she indicated that when he saw her he immediately said “Good Question.” He recognized her and her question. She was happy with her interaction and then turned to watch mine. I was struggling a little to get through the second gate keeper but she said “will you can show him.” This made me somewhat flustered and nervous when I met the man. I was asking him to break the rules for me which was selfish. I handed him the printed tweet and said I had written you a “fan letter.” He immediately remembered. “Yeah, that was you?” Picked up a pen to sign the tweet. I should have taken this intensely close up opportunity to look at his face, interact, but I became very shy and could only look down. When I realized he was taking the time to write and was stopping to think about what to write (breaking another rule) I was really touched. He handed it to me and I put my hand on my chest, looked in his eyes and said “thank you so much” and started to walk away. I heard him say “Yeah” and realized he was still talking to me. I turned back around and he was looking at me smiling. His eyes smile with his face and he said in a deep, sincere voice “It was nice to meet you.” I said “You too.” Turned and walked on realizing that I had rushed the moment- not him- and that he clearly remembered the blog I had written and was still appreciative. I was glad I had been persistent. OK- novelist experience over get ready for some hard old lady fan girl rock and rolling experience. Cathy and I were both elated with our experience and the walk from the venue for the book discussion back to the Croc was much faster. We checked and there was no one in line at the Croc yet so we went to get Pizza. We got the pizza to go and went back to the Croc. The doors were confusing to us because what looked like the main door to us said go to main entrance on the other street and that door said Back door bar. Where should we stand? Out what seemed to be the front door a man came out who said he was the photographer. He didn’t know where we should stand. He was nice and we chatted briefly. I said I know we must seemed crazy. He said he was sure we were not the only ones that were going to get crazy that night. He was right. e went to the back door and ate our pizza. It was three. Cathy had gotten an email saying to be there no later than 5:15 p.m. It might have been a bit much to get there so early. By this time it was raining a little harder. We ate our pizza in the rain and I am happy because it is part of the experience, but in retrospect, we could have sat in a restaurant ,not stood in the rain, and had been fine with being first in line. I noticed a man was in the box office and rang the bell. He was obviously annoyed with us and came out told us not to block the door. He hit a spot on the wall and said this is where the line starts and went back inside. That gave us some amusement as one of us made sure to always stand in that exact spot. Here, here is where the line starts. Several people walked by and we interacted with them. Many asking who was playing there tonight and then saying “the x-files guy?” A couple of highlights is that the opening band Keaton Simon and his band members came and stood, blocking the door, for a while because they were confused about the side door/ main door dilemma as well. While they were texting and finding out we had some slight interactions (such as the comment about my shirt and them laughing that we were there so early). In one interaction with one of the people during the first hour we were there someone had a spliff. Cathy is ignorant of drugs and drug terminology so I was able to point it out to her and tell her that in BFD when Ted has a fantastic free streaming sequence in his brain which starts out something like I was crossing the Hudson with Walt Whitman in a spliff the size of a canoe, that is what a spliff looks like. Street education to better enjoy literary masterpieces. It began to rain harder. We stopped saying “Let it Rain” and came up with the idea that the DavidDuchovnymusic.com web site should market Let it Raingear. It was a full hour before anybody else came to stand in line. A full hour. About 4:30 there were ten of us in line and they opened the bar and told us to come into the bar- we could buy food and drink- and they would make an announcement when the VIP experience would start. We had lost our front line place and more people would come and crowd into the bar before 5:30. The best part about being in the bar was the opportunity to meet the Dutch Duchnovniacs. They compared the Amsterdam concert with the Portland show which they had been to two nights before. They said it was clear David had worked on his voice since the Europe tour. Later in the QA they gave David a pair of wooden Dutch shoes slippers. It wasn’t long before people started lurking near the opening between the bar and lobby which would lead to the theater. Cathy said she was willing to lurk so we did. Finally the bouncer sent everyone back into the bar and wouldn’t let people lurk. I went to the bouncer and said that we had been there at 3 and had waited in the rain to be first in line. He said yes, but they would just make an announcement and we should go back to the bar. I touched him on the arm, gave him my best puppy dog eyes, and said “and you will remember that we’ve been here since 3 in the rain waiting to see him and make sure we are not at the end of the VIP line.” He said, “oh just chill and stay here.” For the remainder of the wait he would not let anyone else lurk near the door and we were able to wait with him. As he let us in first I was so thankful to him. Here is for me the funniest part of this story about waiting in line. We walked in and there were some areas toward the side of the bar where there was a bar so you could lean and be comfortable. Cathy said “oh, let’s go to the side.” Cathy doesn’t like to be in the front of a crowd or the middle of a crowd or in a crowd. She would have stayed in the back. I just thought – we’ve been here in line since 3 in the rain and I just practically offered to blow the bouncer and you don’t want to be up front. So funny! Imagine if after all of that we had stayed in the back. She must have seen my look and said – wherever you want. We went up front. She enjoyed the experience and I don’t think neither of us would have as good of a time without being in front. I decided not to be center stage. I wanted to see the guitar player and the drummer. I had told myself that before the concert. David has world class musicians. I was going to watch a little of them. I also wanted to be on the side because – full fan girl confession here – he has a scar on one of his eyes and I wanted to be able to see that scar. I love that scar. I know it makes no sense. It is a flaw on an otherwise perfect face. I loved that scar on Mulder when you seldom saw it except in certain camera angles and when he grimaced and suddenly smiled. It’s like a perfect profile as he stares directly at a clue and then the moment of clarity comes for him and the scar pops out. A sudden flaw that made it clear he wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t every episodes, but those episodes it does! As an older man, it has deepened and is usually visible but still pops out more in certain expressions when he sings. Those of you who are not a fan can laugh at me. I love that scar. Managed in the 90’s to miss the red speedo (yellow pajama bottom, grey sweat pants), but I noticed the scar. Go figure. The sound check began with the guys in the band coming out first. Then David came out. He made a general acknowledgement of crowd and immediately walked and looked at the stage. He found a spot on the stage and moved his hands measuring stage to ground. He had already decided he was going to dance in the crowd that night and was finding his spot to do that. He waved slightly at a young woman standing near us who was insistently waving. We will be talking about her some in this blog. He stood then in front of where Cathy and I were with his side turned. Head bowed as if waiting for someone to speak in his ear set. Soon as the voice sounded in his ear he jumped to it and went to the mic. It was fun to be part of the sound check. There was a horrendous noise at one point and David said is that feedback. Pat said no I was playing really bad. David said it was really loud we should turn it down and Pat said in case I play bad again. Quite amusing. The lights were blinding on stage and David said they’re not going to be that way all night are they. It was fun. Next the QA. I enthusiastically raised my hand and Brad said with a laugh the woman right in front. Yeah, they might have been talking about the crazy old ladies so determined to be up front. My question was about the song Lately December. It’s the least played song on tour from the first album and is so beautiful. David repeated the question – I am soft spoken so no one else really heard me and said you like it, so do I, but we do a rock concert and it’s a contemplative song. Then he thought a little and said we do slower songs but that one is more complicated and difficult to play or maybe I don’t sing it very well on tour. He then called the band lead Colin on stage and asked him who said “Oh, that’s a hard song.” So that’s the reason. The young girl next to me asked who he had written “the rain song” about. He said a person. Later in introducing the song he said a friend. He had said previously in concerts his ex-wife loved rain so we should assume that’s the person and friend. They weren’t doing that one either but agreed to change the set list since they were in Seattle. Someone else yelled out “Let it Rain “and he said we always do “Let it Rain.” A good question was from a high school literature teacher who wanted to know what he would teach in class if he was still teaching. David said he is a big fan of teaching the classics and justified why. A bad question was “You’re in my top five (people I would have sex with). Who are your top five?” He said I’m not answering with a man recording that. He answered a question did he prefer playing Moody or Mulder thoughtfully and well, similar to answers he had given before. Someone asked about Aquarius. Cathy and I have been part of a #SaveAquarius group and even though he does not think it will come back we were happy to hear him speak about Hodiak with affection. In answer to another question he told a story about babysitting Keaton, the opening act, and that it was Keaton who had suggested he could record the songs that David had originally written just for himself. I got to ask the final question. Two questions – almost a dinner with David! I said I wanted to ask about “Stars”. He said “Stars? We’re not doing that one either. We’re killing you not doing your favorite songs.” Not especially happy with myself that at that moment I gushed. “Anything you do tonight I will love.” That remark got the response it deserved- an eye roll from David. Could I have said something like – ok I’m out of here. That might have been amusing. Or something after I love anything you do like –really even “Baby Snatcher”-(but no, not really, not “Baby Snatcher.”) Baby Snatcher was one of his early and excessively bad movies. Instead I gushed. Then I asked the question which started with I recently watched “New Year’s Day.” David interrupted with “Wow” and made a surprised face with his eyes wide. Eye roll and face in one question- I was distinguishing myself here. See, I could really digress now if I was not writing a distinct blog about “New Year’s Day”. It is an early Duchovny movie. My question pertained to the monologue at the end of the movie by the main character played by the brilliant director, Henry Jaglom. The monologue is related to how stars we see now died years ago and David asked if I was accusing him of plagiarism. I was on a roll boy in my extended conversation with David. I said no I was wondering how much that early movie had influenced him. He said he thought he knew about the dying stars before he was in the movie. I nodded and then he said was it Henry in the monologue? I said yes it’s Henry and refrained from telling him how it summarizes the whole movie in such a poignant manner, how my favorite scene is the unscripted one between him and Henry, and asking what it was like to work with this brilliant director. I refrained. He looked like he was thinking about something and said thank you for reminding me that was in there. So as it ended I didn’t get the impression that he was really annoyed by a Stars question that was really a New Year’s Day question. I wonder if he realizes there is also a significant mythology piece in X-files about Stars where Mulder delivers a similar speech to Scully as Henry had said at the end of New Year’s Day. I get the feeling that David had some influence on New Year’s Day and X-files in this regard and that the concept of dying stars has been with him through-out most of his adult life as meaningful imagery. However, I did not get that response from David. I love the song Stars. Then it was time for group pictures which I don’t really get. Like a picture with a bunch of people you don’t know with a celebrity in the middle. It felt a little rushed, unpleasant, uncomfortable. Cathy, however, had the opportunity to tell him thank you again and to have him say thank you back so I was glad for her. Pictures are on DavidDuchovnymusic.com if anyone is interested in seeing them. I’m wearing the Lick my face shirt. We had to struggle a little again for our space when we got back from the shoot. A woman who had snuck in with the VIP despite having a general admission ticket had kept our space but wanted to be between Cathy and I and I kind of got stuck in back. That was not going to work for me and I told Cathy I was moving down stage a little further but still in front. The young women there were so accommodating to that and pleasant to me. Then the venue was open for all concert ticket holders. The concert had been the first one on the toured sold out and it was packed. It was an intimate venue. I estimate maybe 500 there- really packed in like sardines. Cathy and I talked about the fact that we couldn’t really drink because if we had to go to the bathroom we would never get back. We decided to go to the bathroom one last time before it wasn’t possible. I was going to keep my spot though so I announced loudly (yes, I did) I am leaving for a few minutes but am coming back to this exact spot (pointing to the floor). I then pointed one by one at all the eager fan girls around me, pointed to me and the spot, and did the watching you gesture. (In my defense I am really short and kind of need a front spot to see anything.) A man about five rows back was laughing at me and when I walked by he said “Hey she’s coming back to that spot.” He did the watching you gesture to all the people around him. It was hard to come back and he did the same thing as I came back – laughing the whole time. I brought back a glass of water for Cathy and myself and that was the only liquid we drank for the next several hours. We had a great conversation with several young girls around us – all of who were very familiar with David’s music. The young girl who had asked the question about “the rain song” said that she was thinking of getting a tattoo of lyrics either from the “rain song” or “Let it Rain.” She asked me if when those songs play if I would let her get in my place since she was behind me and I said of course. Who wouldn’t? I spent some time looking at the stage and thinking what songs I would watch the guitar player and drummer on. I was excited to see the bongo’s. I pointed them out to Cathy and we knew we would be hearing “When the time comes.” Keaton and his band came out and certainly warmed us up. High energy, rap style including a little rendition of “Staying Alive”. It was very fun. As Keaton was gathering stuff he up, Cathy and I had an opportunity to tell him how great he was. Anticipation for David got a little much. The girl behind me kicked me and hit me several times. She was annoying everyone. I turned around and just hugged her. She is there to see a man 35 years older than her whose music she loved. I thought it was beautiful, but I also wanted to settle her down a little with some tactile touch. They came out and put down the set lists which the front row could read. We were excited to see the encore Sweet Jane and the Weight as the only covers but had heard the reports from earlier concerts about how good the covers were. We were really impressed that they had not put down any set list for David. Did he memorize them every night? Then they came out with three sheets of large print set list to tape down for him. It had to be bigger and on three pages so he could see it. We found that endearing. David started with the high energy and fast “3000.” Since I am writing another blog specifically about the concert I will only tell in this blog those highlighted moments specific to the experience. One of the first thing during that song is he how much he was sweating. At one point he moved his head and I watched a bead of sweat fall from his face to the floor. Among the other many talents which David has, add the ability to work a room of 500 so every individual believe they had personal interaction with David. Possible every person did. That experience of the communication and audience interaction which David said is the reason he does the tour is something he delivers for the fans very well. I had decided that I was going to watch some of Pat McCusker’s guitar and Sebastian’s drum despite the fact that it meant not watching David. Obviously I was going to watch Sebastion on the bongos during “When The Time Comes.” At one point he looked up and we made eye contact and I nodded and he nodded back. Obviously the best time to watch McCusker would have been “Unsaid, Undone” but no I felt strongly about watching David. Luckily there were many times through-out the night when he moved directly in front of me. Whenever I clapped, I tried to clapped “around.” Pointing my hands to each band member. I hope the band knows that David’s fans are aware that David’s expression of music is only possible because of their incredible playing and that we love them because of it. The point came for the young woman who loved the songs about rain to go to the front. Think of how hard I had fought for the spot. Do you think I would have given it up if I knew she was going to take off her bra, threw it on the stage and then keep her shirt off exposing her breasts to David? No I would not have. Cathy said her immediate reaction was just concern that David would avoid our side of the stage because of her. He made at one point a slightly stern face and shook his head at her and she covered up. Cathy was upset about it at first but now says that it was part of the experience and is the only time in her life she will ever have that experience. My concern was with David eyesight and knowing that he knew where I had been standing he would not realize it was not me flashing her, but Cathy assured me that he would be able to tell the difference between a 21 year old breasts and mine…yeah, probably. This young woman did tweet to David the next day with a picture of a bra on stage. I found that impressive. She is owning the moment as well without embarrassment. While I was annoyed so much at first, since then I have mellowed about it. But ladies keep your clothes on. There is no indication that David likes panties or bras being thrown at him. “Unsaid, Undone” is my favorite song off the album (any song that can reference Dylan’s Idiot Wind and quote obscure Latin text cannot fail to make me happy) and it is loud and rocking. This was his best song of the night by far. At the end of the song he was by my section of the audience, he bent down so it seemed like he was inches from our face when he sang/ yelled “I said I’m done.” Then he did something I have not seen in any videos. Still bent near our faces, his face went cold (he is a great actor after all, isn’t he?), he put his hands up so they were just below his eyes – kind of walling himself off except for the eyes, and then while maintaining eye contact and still bent he walked backwards. It was chilling. The most spectacular concert moment I have ever experienced. I don’t know how he could maintain eye contact with everyone in that area, but it felt as if he was staring directly at me and Cathy said the same (staring directly at her). OMG. I have a love hate relationship with “Positively Madison Avenue” which I will get into more in another blog. But the love is stronger than the hate. He stood right by me and again and was bending down when he sang the lyric “a beleaguered Pete Seeger got to hitch his way to heaven.” So cool. I will say that there were moments when I realize my fan girl love might be a little different than others. He was introducing a song early in the set and nonchalantly took off his jacket and everyone screamed. I was like “what did he say” and Cathy was like he took off his jacket. Then after he stood up by the beleaguered Pete Seeger line to run across stage singing “you can sell panties and still remain a genius “women yelled because he said the word panties. That’s not me- but did you see that scar? I also noticed the nice hair on his arms. We each have our fan girl kicks I guess. Oh yeah, and he had the perfect amount of scruff. He left and came back for encore. I was excited to see the Pink Pussy hat in his pocket. The band puts them on for “The Weight.” Keaton came on to sing with him. This was a moment. David had told a story about babysitting Keaton. It was Keaton last night on the tour and they had not sang together. I will rave about this performance in a later blog about the concert. They went off stage and we screamed for the next encore – which we were obviously going to get –it was already on the set list. The band did an extended opener on “Sweet Jane” and then David ran out, to the spot he had scoped out way back in sound check and jumped off stage for a dance with the audience. There was a sudden rush to him. I was so close that I could feel the physical displacement of air as women rushed him. I did not and why it would have been great to have felt his back muscles or touch the hair on his arms, I was glad to be that close and take in the scene. I have a framed picture in my head of David with his butt stuck out wiggling, his hands up dancing, his eyes closed, women around him touching all around his back wiggling too and this delightful look of joy of his face. Going back to the discussion of audience participation and David’s motivation to perform. I will never think of that statement and not see this picture in my mind. How insulated must David have become in his fandom with all the crazy fan girls like me out there. This is his chance to give some loving and receive some loving from his fans. It is beautiful, but scary and I hope he never gets hurt. He seems kind of a pro though at positioning his body to make sure no vital areas are touched. Then he was back on to finish the song and then he was gone. People immediately grabbed for his set list. I just wanted a set list. Note to DavidDuchovnymusicc.com –post set lists, look at Bob Dylan.com set list posting. I like to know what songs were played in the order for the concerts I’ve been to. I’ve never wanted a set list before, but there no one else this set list will be stored. I saw a set list far back on stage and asked someone if I could have it. He shook his head. A bouncer came and told us to move on because the concert was over. I took my stuff over to one of the benches I had mentioned earlier and started to layer up. I watched until the bouncer was gone and then went to someone else and asked if I could have the set list. He gladly gave it to me. Cathy and I started back to the vehicle in rock and roll and Duchovny heaven, but with aching old lady legs. Back at her place we went to bed about three a.m. The next morning at 7 we realized we were both awake and posting on twitter. A friend sent us a tremendous screen cap from the concert taken of the back of David on stage with Cathy and I in front gazing at him. It had never occurred to us that we would be videotaped in the audience, but we were delighted. Cathy found another picture of him looking away from us up at the upper level of the bar, but our face are lighted in the same way as he is lighted. These pictures mean more to us than the VIP group pictures. We found vids of “the Weight” with Keaton Simon and David. I screen capped one and posted it and Keaton liked it. Then we found video from the other side of that song to see the interaction we had missed. Beautiful. We must have watched the video of “the Weight” like a hundred times. Cathy and I are in several chat groups together. We sat with each other as we twittered, tumblred and instagramed asking what chat group should get what pictures and stories and which of us were going to post it. #SaveAquarius has a fan girl for another of the show’s stars so we didn’t want to overload them but there were Duchovny fans in that group not in any other. Of course, our concert group needed pictures and stories. Then there is our Moody group. Finally there is a small intimate group of five who had to get our most intimate details and stories. At some point Cathy put on her HOHW shirt. I stayed in pajamas most of the day. We had a late brunch with champagne. It is what you do the day after. About 6 p.m. we were pretty done and had to take a break. What could we possibly do to distract us? It turns out Cathy had the X-files Season 10 special features which I had not seen. Ok – does that sound silly? But we both agreed we had not seen Mulder, Moody or Hodiak – not at one moment did we think – oh, that’s …we saw Duchovny- or we saw the Duchovny persona he puts on as novelist and the persona he puts on as rock star, but we did not see Mulder. A girl can only go so long without Mulder. We went to bed about 10 p.m. exhausted. By the next morning the pictures and vids of the girl who had flashed her breasts were making the round so we started watching video’s all over again. At one point I said to Cathy “I have to say. I just, I know I shouldn’t, but I just have to say, I just have to say” and then I said something I am not going to put here. Cathy is a real concerned voice said “exactly who are going to say that to?” I said, “Just you. You are the only one here.” We both then laughed hysterically at how into the social media we were that even in our private conversation she was concerned I would post something inappropriate. Cathy’s husband was tremendous during this period. Letting us fan girl away as much as we wanted. Then Cathy took me to the airport and my fan girl experience was over, but the next day the pictures from the Boston concert started popping up everywhere. What’s a fan girl to do?

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frabjous-fragment · 3 years

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a critique of lesbian discourse from a nonbinary perspective

(saw something that upset me enough to want to get my opinion out there, so here i am, turning to my tum blur dot com poe eh tree blog to engage in lgbt discourse. happy pride)

I am an agender person designated male at birth. I consider myself pansexual with asexual characteristics, but historically, I have mostly been romantically involved with people who could be painted broadly as transfeminine. Because of this, binarism that tries to divide me from the lesbian community has always stuck out to me more. I hope to illustrate to people who will keep an open mind how the dismissal of individuals identifying themselves as bi lesbians is rooted in binarism.

This carrd seems like the most comprehensive and mainstream formulation of the argument I could find, so I'll go down it point by point. Before diving in, though, I want to point out that the author, an asexual and nonbinary dfab lesbian, feels so strongly about this issue that they operate a blocklist of people who identify as bisexual lesbians on Twitter. Bear the fact that people feel strongly enough about the issue to draw lines in the sand through the community in mind, as we dissect the causes, effects, and purposes of this issue's hot button status.

tl;dr: There is no antagonistic conflict of interest between bisexual women and lesbian women.

"Lesbian is not an umbrella term." It's not surprising to me that the carrd opens like this, since the entire argument requires this prior, but the formulation here is actually very weak and even concedes things that weaken it further. "These simplifications of people's sexuality were grown out of as queer people started to create labels and spaces that more accurately described them." Buckle up, because most of the rest of this post rests on this very loaded throwaway sentence. This is a simplification of the truth and overlooks some pretty unfortunate history. The fact of the matter is that bisexual and asexual people were included in the discourse of the gay rights movement from the very beginning. The Asexual Manifesto was written in 1972, and Donny the Punk, founder of the first LGBT student movement, identified as bisexual (recorded in writing earliest in 1972- incidentally, when he discusses his break with elements of the gay liberation movement, due to his treatment after falling in love with a woman in 1970). Therefore, the argument that people simply used weak terminology like "homophile" in the early days because there was not more specific terminology available to people lacks something. The cruder truth is that it was all people needed for compatibility, to go to gay hookup spots, make friends, have sex, and maybe find a long term relationship. Bisexual, transgender, intersex, asexual, and further subcommunities arose with the rise of gay identity politics, and conflicts of interest within it. Who would these conflicts of interest be revised out of our community's history? The answer is simple and unfortunate- sexism. Donny was far from the only individual met with the sentiment that he was a gender traitor- lesbian separatism, an unfortunate reaction to real issues the early gay movement had with representing lesbians, swept through lesbian spaces in the 70s, devastating bisexual and transgender women and bolstering the nascent bisexual and transgender movements. By the end of the decade, TERF queen Janice Raymonds included "testimony" from other bigots against two named trans women existing peacefully in lesbian spaces, in her hate screed The Transsexual Empire, quoting another TERF's writing as saying "I feel raped when Olivia passes off Sandy ... as a real woman." This is an obvious appropriation of the language of personal rights to justify bigotry, judgment, hate, and exclusion. All manner of feminists and lesbians have attempted to whitewash the darker sentiments of this period by dismissing the proponents of radical, genocidal propositions like Valerie Solanas' SCUM Manifesto as "just venting" or "fringe lunatics". (To not get too into it, Solanas went back and forth on whether or not her work was satire, in a manner I find eerily similar to what reactionaries do when they put 'this account is satire' on their Twitters.) This is easy to prove incorrect; non-buzzword, actual, political misandry had reached the highest levels of feminist leadership and academia. Observe what one of the first professors of women's studies in the world, Sally Miller Gearhart, had to say on "the male question": I) Every culture must begin to affirm a female future. "The future is female" is a phrase that has been effectively neutralized and recuperated by less radical elements, which I am all for. It is vague enough to work to better ends than the next two points by itself. II) Species responsibility must be returned to women in every culture. Here it becomes more clear that, in the minds of many prominent feminists of the 1970s, women would have to be supreme over men. There isn't much of another way to interpret the statement that women must bear all responsibility for humanity. III) The proportion of men must be reduced to and maintained at approximately 10% of the human race. How would this be done? The only answer is eugenics through selective abortion imposed by the state, and genocide. Clearly, even from just a perspective of women's rights, this is inadmissible to anyone who is genuinely pro-choice on the

subject of women's bodies, even though this is not a situation we usually think of. The very suggestion of this is fascistic. Make no mistake that the modern sentiment against bi lesbians is not rooted in the same fascist gender essentialism. One denies that "benign" anti-bisexual and anti-transgender sentiments still predominate in lesbian and gay communities at your own risk. Not only are you speaking over the lived experiences of people like me, you are speaking against the statistics. Not only do incredible majorities of 88.5% of gay men and 71% of lesbian women, compared to 48% of bisexual and similar people, still exclude trans people from romantic and sexual considerations due to the subliminal sexism they learn from both mainstream society and their LGBT communities, but surveys show that gay men and lesbian women respectively distrust bisexual men and bisexual women's attraction to them and affiliation with their communities. (Also widely*... couldn't resist pointing out the common eggcorn.) "Lesbian used to be the term that described all sapphics, but isn't anymore, and that's a positive thing. Having more specific labels has allowed for people's bisexuality and pansexuality to not be erased in common language, and was a step towards getting rid of the pressure for people attracted to multiple genders to 'pick a side'. The emergence of terms like 'bi/pan lesbian' and 'bi/pan hetero' reinforces the notion of needing to 'pick a side', and obscures the common definitions of all the sexualities involved" This is that concession that I mentioned earlier. Credit where it's due, it's an elevation of the discourse to actually admit this when other people won't even do that. But it again ignores why these pressures exist, and incorrectly presupposes a demand for terminology that could be argued to be divisive without looking into why such a demand exists in reality. In a world without these terrible and stupid issues of sexism, people would simply say "I am both gay and straight" and everything would be dandy. Nobody has ever called themselves "bi/pan hetero" and I'm almost not even being hyperbolic. It's not an identity community. Proposing this just sets up the writer's argument that the terminology of "bi/pan lesbian" (and its more accurate parallel, "bi/pan mlm", which I have seen- putting aside my qualms with the limitations and binarism of xlx terminology even when the left operator is nb) divides the bi/pan community. This is the same logic battleaxe bisexuals who view the pansexual label as biphobic and attack people they see as bi (and yes, pan people are also bi by definition) use for their argument that the pansexual label divides bi people, when the only people that I see it "dividing" are the same people getting pissy about trifling points of queer theory that nobody else cares about for no proven reason. In real spaces, nobody tries to get bisexual people to line up on one wall and pansexual people to line up on the other. Pan people do not engage in biphobic discourse. The issue is empty; a non-issue. This it shares in common with the bi lesbian discourse, where the issues are not directly with the communities under fire, but instead vague, abstract, unsubstantiated and unfalsifiable notions of "omg you'll make the straights think [blank]!!" It seems like a theme where, even within LGBT, majorities attack their negations and accuse them of being divisive for asserting themselves and asking for some solidarity in return for the solidarity they provide in the community; you see this with asexual and trans people as well, but that's not what this post is about. Since the entire argument is built on this first point, I could honestly stop here, from a logical perspective. But people have strong emotional responses to the subsequent points, and without going through those, people will change "is not" to "ought not to be" and carry on.

"Making Distinct Spaces for Different Sexuality's Unique Experiences is Important." Around here is where the carrd really starts to resort to trying to twist truisms against their opponents, and on the briefest reflection this doesn't work. The idea that the term "bi lesbian" erases the distinction in between bi women and lesbian women seems to me to commit a category error by defining lesbian women as exclusively homosexual women and then pointing out the obvious truth that these women are distinct from bisexual women. The truth is, bisexual women and lesbian women are not categorically different in really any way other than their relationship to heterosexuality, a distinction easily expressed by- you guessed it- the label "bi lesbian". To reiterate and combine into earlier points: There is no antagonistic conflict of interest between bisexual women and lesbian women.

"Woman Aligned Nonbinary People are Included in Lesbian Attraction". Another truism. Let's move on to the single clause of the single sentence that contains the actual argument- "implying otherwise by wanting to separate that attraction into a new label is enbyphobic invalidating lesbian attraction" So, hi! As a woman aligned nonbinary person, I am here to tell you that this is not correct! I think this is a lot easier for dfab nonbinary people and dmab binary trans women to say than is it for dmab nonbinary people like myself to say. When your identity is as arcane as "I am not a woman but I identify with women because I am of a marginalized neutral gender", a lot more people decide not to take you seriously. If you take out the bolded words, this statement becomes correct, so we're going to focus on them. The only people saying anything about non-binary people not being included in lesbianism by default are the antis and the radfems they unwittingly serve, who actually do believe that point and see it as a good thing. But unfortunately, as a dmab nonbinary person who does not get sorted as a woman under binarism, my experience has been that I am already excluded from lesbianism in practice. If you get sorted as a woman under binarism, good for you! But to say that all lesbians do is obviously incorrect, when you consider all the budding trans women who still have beards and face largely similar issues in the lesbian community. To say that this state of affairs is fine is harmful to trans people; to say that this is different from what people like me face is arbitrary, and arguably binarist. Sapphism needs to look deeper than the surface and accept a foundation built on ties of solidarity and identity with no tests of purity.

"Having a Lean or Strong Prefrence Does Not Make You Any Less Bisexual". (Preference*, firstly.) I am not sure what this truism is doing here. Even many bi lesbians would agree that preferring other women is not what makes them lesbians, their membership in the lesbian community is what makes them lesbians. Refer to the above point; each community should be built on nothing more than solidarity and identity.

"Lesbians Don't Have Attraction to Men or Men-Aligned Nonbinary People, Even When on the Split Attraction Model". Here it is, the Big Chungus of arguments in the bi lesbian discourse. This is one that is seen often that people feel very strongly about, and probably the most contentious, since the implication that bi lesbians facilitate abuse of lesbians seems to motivate how a lot of people feel on the subject. Who has the power here? The insinuation that bi women have more privilege than lesbians is silly and biphobic. Clearly, it's the abusive men who have all the power in this arrangement. So how is the presence or absence of bi lesbians going to change what abusive men, who don't believe in sexual orientation, let alone care about it, decide to do? It can only change the excuses they use, which are chosen at convenience. This is a trick that patriarchy has played on us to get us to attack each-other instead of the enemy. For such a common and spicy point of rhetoric, I'm surprised I didn't write more against it here, but I really feel that the argument against it is that simple. I'll add a personal note here, and say that the dismissal of the divergent opinions of people sorted as males under binarism, alleging that we're "rapey" and want to appropriate things that aren't ours rather than participate in solidarity, is incredibly harmful to those of us who happen to be lesbians, even by the strictest trans-inclusive definition.

"Trans Women are Women". Truism. This is by far the weakest point. Nobody is advancing "bi lesbian" as a trans-inclusive label, though as I said above, it's a statistical fact that bisexual people are much more trans-positive than homosexual people, and therefore, as a transgender person, I tend to feel more welcomed around them. Of course, that's not a categorical distinction, but an unfortunate tendency.

"A Lesbian isn't Less of a Lesbian for Previously Dating Men". Truism. This is a stronger point, but only because it is closer to real rhetoric supporting the idea that bi lesbians are "real". Bisexual women will answer the question of "would you be open to dating a man again?" in the affirmative, and homosexual women will answer in the negative. Some members of the lesbian community do not completely rule out the prospect of dating men, even though it is not something they currently pursue.

The above are the reasons why the community should not fall into the bi lesbian discourse, and the refutations to its arguments. In order to be in full solidarity with fringe members of our sub-communities against bigotry, we must not fall into needless categorical division of groups when our interests are the same. There is no antagonistic conflict of interest between bisexual women and lesbian women.

#bi lesbian #pan lesbian #bi discourse #lesbian discourse #pan discourse #lgbt discourse #pride discourse #queer theory #agender #bi lesbian discourse

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defectivemecha · 6 years

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TMNC(at)- A TMNT OC insert Part 1.01

Here we go! I’m starting in the 2003 series Season 1 Episode 2: A Better Mouse Trap, you can watch it on YouTube here thanks to YouTube user Ninja Turtles (Quick thanks to them for providing the full series free-of-charge, the description has a patreon link if you want to send them a monetary thank-you. I probably wouldn’t be able to write this without their channel.) In the way of things, going from visual to text-based media is not easy, so each episode will probably be split into two parts.

S01E02- A Better Mousetrap 1/2

‘I guess I should’ve expected that the loss of the lair would hit the turtles pretty hard,’ I mused, carefully searching through the piles of rubble as Leo, Raf, and I collected the few things that had survived the collapse. ‘It’s hard to imagine becoming so attached to a place.’ I thought, dusting off my hands as Leo loaded an odd canister onto Donnie’s even weirder “sewer slider”. I could dimly hear Leo lament the loss of their home, and Raf’s bitter response. ‘Then again, I can’t imagine living somewhere for five years, let alone fifteen.’

“Yo, Tami!” Raf barked, “You find what you were looking for yet?” “Nah,” I sighed. “Looks like I’m gonna have to skip hand-to-hand sparring until I can make another pair of practice gloves.” You would think that retracting claws would be super easy to control, nope. Just flexing my hands can make them extend, and they’ll instinctively extend even in a practice bout. Leo laughed, “Somehow, I don’t think Donnie will be too upset!” I smiled back, glad that they weren’t too put out to laugh. “It was his turn this week, wasn’t it?” I laughed, picking my way past the last of the rubble as Leo climbed onto the top of the pile of miscellaneous stuff. “In which case, you may be right. Unless Master Splinter chooses to personally correct his stubborn habit of leading with his shoulders.” We all gave a sympathetic wince at the prospect. “Eh, he’ll be fine. Donnie’s smart, or learns faster than the rest of us do at least.” Raf stated as he climbed into the sewer slider’s driver’s seat, “Speaking of the brainiac, time to really test this puppy out. Honestly, Leo, you drive slower than Tami does!” I wrinkled my nose at him, but otherwise let the indirect slur on my driving pass.

“Just remember” Leo cautioned, as Raf started up the sewer slider. “Donnie said the accelerator hasn’t been calibrated yet, so take it nice and sLOWWW!” “Yeee-HAWW!” Typical Raf, he had done the equivalent of jumping to hyperspeed without warning anyone, which left me to grab Leo before he fell off his awkward perch aboard Mikey’s surfboard. “I’d call this a successful field test, wouldn’t you guys?!” Raf shouted over the engine whine and rushing sewer sludge. Once Leo was stabilized, I shrugged off the annoyance, instead choosing to join the guys in another exuberant “Yee-HAW!” as Raf whipped around a corner. I’m not ashamed to admit that I almost wished the new lair was farther away, Donnie certainly knows how to make a smooth ride!

When we got back, Leo was able to greet Mikey with what was probably a very welcome sight. “Hey, good news Mikey!” Leo called, digging out a large box from the bottom of the pile. “Your DVD collection survived!” “Awesome!” Enthused Mikey, easily catching what was probably a fifty pound box as he turned to face the impressive wall of mismatched TVs. “Let’s throw in something light on story and heavy on gory! ‘Cause the video monolith is ready to rock and roll!” ‘The least they could is pretend that took some effort!’ I couldn’t help but joke to myself as I took advantage of a Donnie’s interest in a TV interview with a Baxter Stockman, a pretty well known leader in the tech industry, to grab a soda from the fridge. “A wise man once said,” ‘Wait-’ I dashed back into the living room as recognition set my heart pounding. “Build a better mouse trap” ‘There’s no way- he’s too prominent in the media to risk something like that!’ “and the world shall beat a path to your door.” I slid to a stop just behind the turtles as- “Well I say, let the path beating begin!” I felt a chill veil cut me off from the world, and everything seemed to freeze over, as if a ghost had whispered in my ear.

The pain had finally stopped, but trying to move anything triggered waves of nausea and shock. There wasn’t much point to moving anyway, I could still feel the restraints. The light was still on, too, but it seemed to burn through my eyelids with far more power now, discouraging any attempts to see what was going on. All I could do was lay still and try to keep myself from shivering too much. “-And I say that, with a little more time, I can easily recreate the experiment! With, of course, your continued backing.”

“Man, I’d sure hate to be a rat in this town.” Mikey whispered in muted horror, before the connection clicked as he looked back to Splinter. “Oh, sorry, Sensei.” The accidental pun was enough to tickle a small, dry chuckle out of my throat, even with Baxter Stockman continuing to haunt the background. ‘I can’t be sure without hearing him in person. However, I’m still glad we’re not watching that movie just yet.’ I thought apprehensively, massaging my hands to coax my claws back into their beds while the others prepped for practice.

Weapons practice was a welcome excuse to block out that uneasy thread in the back of my brain, so though it kept worrying over what may have been revealed by that interview, it was distinctly secondary to figuring out the best way to avoid getting bruised. As it was, Donnie got knocked out of the ring with an undignified blow to the backside, Leo got the breath knocked out of him by a powerful strike to the solar plexus, Mikey got tripped with an almost lazy flick of Splinter’s walking stick, and Raf was… Well, he was Raf. He was ticked that some pompous surface-world snake could take his home and call it beneficial, and he let that anger show. That was just part of Raf, he was driven by emotion. Unfortunately, it got in his way during a fight, as it did now. He dashed and swung wildly, forcing Splinter back a step or two, then throwing his Sai knives, thus throwing away his best defense and allowing Splinter to pin him to a pillar.

“You are distracted, Rafael. You must learn to focus your attacks.” Splinter stated calmly, releasing Raf as he turned to face me. “Yeah, I’d like to focus my attacks on that Stockman guy.” Raf grumbled. I had to fight my way through another wave of anxiety as Raf attempted to “persuade” Master Splinter to allow another trip surface-side. An attempt that was cut off by a stern “Because I forbid it!” At which point, he turned to face me, “Tamara, I think it is time I teach you some more advanced meditation techniques.” ‘Thank the powers that be for Splinter and his ability to be discrete.’ I stepped into Splinter’s meditation room, a space as austere and painfully neat as Mikey’s was hazardous, with nothing more than a pallet and a few things for making tea. “We shall resume weapons training in the morning.” Splinter told the turtles as he closed the door. A muffled taunt could be heard through the door, “Huh, we shall resume weapons training in the morning.” mimicked Mikey. “I heard that.” Snapped Splinter, a few more moments, and the turtles had settled.

“Another attack?” Splinter asked. I sighed and nodded, sitting down beside the small hot plate as Splinter set the kettle to boil. “Call me a hopeless optimist, but I was hoping I was done with the waking ones.” No this wasn’t the first attack, or even one of the worst. Once, I very nearly clawed Splinter’s eyes out, when the scent of antiseptic threw me back into the past. Splinter shook his head as he selected a particularly calming blend, “Such terrors are not so easily overcome,” he said patiently, “traumas such as this are akin to obstacles in a river, it takes years to wear them down, centuries even. In the end, the river may not be able to completely remove it, but may simply change it’s own path to flow around it.” I bit my lip, the idea of living with these flashbacks for the rest of my life didn’t sound inviting, but then, compared with some war veterans I’ve seen, I’m normal.

“It’s been over a week since the last flashback, was it simply the stress of the past few days?” Splinter asked, pouring the hot water into a teapot and allowing it to brew. I looked down, it was a temptation to go with the easy excuse that Splinter offered, but lying to him here would do no good. “Maybe,” I hesitated, “but- The interview, earlier. Baxter Stockman’s voice, it’s hard to say for sure, but it sounds very similar to a voice I heard after the procedure.” If this shocked Splinter, or even intrigued him, he gave no sign. He simply poured an even cup for each of us as I began a deep breathing exercise to help stave off another wave of anxiety. “I’m…” Splinter paused, “I’m not sure what to suggest other than patience, I understand that it may be hard to convince yourself to wait, but there is no telling what forces Stockman may have under his control. If you are not cautious, you may find yourself facing a far greater threat than you intended.” I laughed, shakily. “Master Splinter, I may be the victim of illegal government experimentation, but I’m still a high school introvert at heart. I doubt I could confront a squirrel on my own right now, let alone a big-time tech entrepreneur with untold security measures and an army of tiny killer robots. I think it’ll be a few more years before I can think about dispensing vigilante justice.” Splinter didn’t reply, merely lifted an eyebrow and sipped his tea as my heartbeat finally stabilized and my rib cage stopped squeezing my lungs. After an hour or so of meditation, I was reasonably sure that the flashback wouldn’t return once I fell asleep. Roughly an hour later, I was curled up in the pile of cushions and blankets that served me as a bed.

To Be Continued...

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