A Frozen Allegory - 1001 Cars Long.
Rooted in socio economic division, modern classes are no longer able to see past their own polarized calcified ideologies as we stand seemingly worlds apart while around us unprecedented changes in our environment threaten our once thriving existence. Within a frozen microcosm Graeme Mansion’s multi-seasonal series Snowpiercer seeks to comment the greater consequences of weaponized inequality, privilege-induced ignorance, congestive dissonance and collective trauma. This chilling allegory illustrates the complexity of revolution and challenges the viewer through visceral storytelling to strive for empathy. Stories like this one are vital to remind us that we are not alone, that change is possible and that we stand stronger together against the titans we face.
The Stage:
Plunged into an ice age by their efforts to cool the planet’s temperature, the earth can no longer sustain life. Billionaire entrepreneur Joseph Wilford seizes this opportunity by creating Noah’s Ark. Snowpiercer - an engineering miracle, 1001 cars long. Wilford’s perpetual engine will circle the globe providing a perfect ecosystem for food, recreation and life … giving him dominion as God. Seeing the tyrannical future ahead, his lead engineer Melanie abandons him track-side and seizes control of the engine unbeknownst to those on board. While in the pandemonium 400 un-ticketed souls fought their way into the cargo hold to escape certain death.
Like many leaders, while Melanie aims to create a better future for those aboard, but the complexity of her role combined with the temptation to assert control through more authoritarian means leads her to warp many of her principles. As her systems break down, Melanie is forced to examine what comfort had wrought and ask herself if the system can be saved without tearing it down. (Starter, 2023)
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you were raised in comparison.
it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.
you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.
you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.
what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.
it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.
you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.
you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?
a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.
you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.
it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.
something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.
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to me, the most fascinating (and utterly unintentional) feature of TAZ Balance's narrative structure is the way that on the first listen, Tres Horny Boys are the audience surrogates because they, much like us, have no idea what the fuck is going on, but on all subsequent relistens, then Lucretia, and sometimes Barry, and arguably especially Lup in the umbrella become the new audience stand-ins, because just like us, they are, in fact, painfully aware of what the fuck is going on :)
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