Batman AU where Gotham is in Australia.
Everyone is Australian. Everyone.
Except Alfred.
He's still English.
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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Knowing “Nerdy Prudes Must Die” was the first idea the Lang brothers had for Hatchetfield makes the whole series so much funnier.
Like, did they know in “The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals” that the weirdo who demanded a hot chocolate would be the leading man of the high school horror show?
Did they know the prude they mentioned a few times would be a homophobic murderer who defiled a corpse, fucked a ghost, and became a vessel for dark lords?
Was the homeless man joke in BEFORE the recast because they were still brothers, or not?
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I'm really not a villain enjoyer. I love anti-heroes and anti-villains. But I can't see fictional evil separate from real evil. As in not that enjoying dark fiction means you condone it, but that all fiction holds up some kind of mirror to the world as it is. Killing innocent people doesn't make you an iconic lesbian girlboss it just makes you part of the mundane and stultifying black rot of the universe.
"But characters struggling with honour and goodness and the egoism of being good are so boring." Cool well some of us actually struggle with that stuff on the daily because being a good person is complicated and harder than being an edgelord.
Sure you can use fiction to explore the darkness of human nature and learn empathy, but the world doesn't actually suffer from a deficit of empathy for powerful and privileged people who do heinous stuff. You could literally kill a thousand babies in broad daylight and they'll find a way to blame your childhood trauma for it as long as you're white, cisgender, abled and attractive, and you'll be their poor little meow meow by the end of the week. Don't act like you're advocating for Quasimodo when you're just making Elon Musk hot, smart and gay.
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No because I absolutely loved watching ed fight! For 2 seasons we never saw him fight, he was always making his crew do it, even when was in full kraken mode, he just fires one shot and stands back and let them do the rest.
While in 2x08 he was killing left, right and center! He casually took out two English soldiers, UNARMED and used their rifle to choke them out, in a little rowboat, then he choked and broke someone's neck with ONE fucking hand while holding and READING stedes love letter with the other! Then later, on the beach, he was fighting two soldiers, while two more were coming at him and you can see that he already took out NINE others (yes i went back and counted!) Also when he took someone's rifle and put it on their shoulder and shot someone else.. I can't.. He's a fucking menace! A hot fucking menace!
I just think it's neat he went around slaughtering the English like they're nothing after he hallucinated stede, the love of his life, yelling for help!
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It was worse, when I was a kid. I remember the time you caught me telling her 'I love you'. And I can't even remember what you said, but I remember that I had you on your back -- I put you straight on the fucking ground. I was always so much bigger and so much stronger. I got on top of you and choked you 'til your eyes bugged out. I told you that my mother had probably loved me a lot more than yours loved you. . . . Were you ten, Harrow? Was I eleven? Was that the day you decided you wanted to die?
You remember how the fuck-off great aunts always used to say, 'Suffer and learn'? If they were right, Nonagesimus, how much more can we take until you and me achieve omniscience?
I'm never not thinking about this part of harrow the ninth. what a fucking perfectly distilled microcosm of gideon's and harrow's childhood. two children clawing at and choking the life out of each other over the entirely fictional premise that either of their mothers ever loved them.
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izzy was in a way the reason the revenge didn't have a unicorn. he was the reason for everything that went wrong originally.
he was the one that got the british to ambush the revenge, to capture stede and ed.
he was the one directly responsible for the unicorn being blown up. for karl dying.
he was the one that pushed ed to become kraken. for him to abandon the crew.
and yet he cared for the crew. he took the worst of it. lead them out of the storm.
he cared for them so much that they have forgiven him. made him their unicorn.
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one thing i noticed in that one scene with ed and fang, ed says
"i shot a man's leg off." he doesn't say izzy's name.
either he hasn't registered what he's done, or he hasn't registered what he's done to izzy.
he's locking away those feelings, both izzy and ed are. and fuck i need them to talk, i need izzy to not make up a false fairy tale, and i need ed to own the fuck up to what he put izzy and his crew through.
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David: They are a dying species grasping for resurrection. They don't deserve to start again, and I'm not going to let them.
Walter: Yet, they created us.
David: Even monkeys stood upright at some point.
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