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carriagelamp · 3 years

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Art of Aardman

I found myself a cheap copy of the Shaun the Sheep movie, so I was rewatching a bunch of Aardman films earlier this month and decided to hunt down some books too. For anyone that doesn’t know, Aardman is a British stop-motion studio that does fantastic work like Wallace and Gromit, Shaun the Sheep, Chicken Run, Early Man… tons of cool stuff. They’re always quirky and funny and warm-hearted. This was just a very nice art book for anyone that’s a fan of Aardman stop motion and wants to see a bit extra; it shows some cool concept art and blows up the neat details in Aardman work, especially in their intricate stuff like The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists!

Asterix and the Picts (Asterix and the Chariot Race, and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion)

I decided to try a couple of the new Asterix comics that were done by the new team, just to see if they stand up to the old ones (that and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion cause I’d never read that one before). They were pretty decent! Asterix and the Picts was my favourite of the two though I wouldn’t say either are going to contest for my favourite Asterix comic... but still! The art looks good and the stories felt like what I would expect, they made for a pleasant couple evenings of reading especially since it’s been so long since I’ve read a new Asterix comic. If you’ve never read Asterix it’s one of the biggest name French comic series in North America, as far as I know and very worth the read. It’s about a single Gaulish village that’s holding out against the invading Romans through sheer force of will, slapstick hijinks, and a magical super-strength potion brewed by their druid. Lots of fantastic visuals and cute wordplay, even in the English translations.

Bear

I found out about this bastion of Canadian literature via tumblr post that was losing its collective mind over the fact that some bizarre bear-based erotica novella somehow won the most prestigious literary prize available in Canada. Since I too found this hilarious and unspeakably bizarre I had to give it a read, obviously. And yes, the flat surface level summary is... a librarian moves out into rural Ontario and falls in love with a literal for-real not-supernatural-not-a-joke bear. And I have to say… it is actually worthy of an award, which I was not expecting given that I was there for a laugh. It has beautiful writing, and the subtextual story is pretty interesting… it kind of makes me think of The Haunting of Hill House actually in terms of themes. (Womanhood, personhood, independence, autonomy partially achieved through escaping the male gaze by claiming non-human lovers... listen if I were still in university I would right a paper comparing the two novels).

I dunno man, it’s fucking weird. Actually a well-written book, but sure is about a woman falling in love with a literal bear. Give it a read if you want something bonkers but like… high-brow bonkers.

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites

Best book I have read in like… a while. A long while. I am not a fast reader, and I consumed 90% of this book over a weekend. It’s not at all like Terry Pratchett, but at the same time it scratched an itch for me that I haven’t had satisfied since Pratchett’s death. A very clever, hilariously funny poly romance between a disabled werewolf, an anxious vampire lord, and an incredibly powerful woman, with heaps of social satire, political commentary, and sinister undertones. The whole thing reads a bit like fanfiction and I say that in the most flattering way possible -- it is so easy to jump right in and be immediately taken over by the characters and the world and the plot, you never feel like you’re fighting to engage even though the world-building is fascinating and expansive. It welcomes you in right away, it was the book equivalent of a quilt and a hug which is something I sorely needed with all this pandemic bullshit. If you read any of the books on this list, go read that one while I sit here in pain waiting for the sequel.

Kid Paddle

I watched the cartoon of Kid Paddle as a kid and was thinking about it recently, so I decided to hunt down some of the original comics online. They’re fun and weird, with a cute art style and fantastic monsters designs. (My favourites are always about Kid either daydreaming or playing games that involve Midam’s weird warty troll creatures. It’s like a cross between Calvin and Hobbes and Foxtrot with the fun sort of quirks that I love in Belgian comics. Unfortunately, unlike Asterix, I’ve only come across these ones in French, but if you can read French it’s totally worth popping over to The Internet Archive and reading the ones they have available.

The Last Firehawk: The Golden Temple

The lastest Firehawk book. Despite being written for quite young readers, I did enjoy the early books in this series quite a bit. They’re about a young owl and squirrel who found an egg for a magical species that was believed to be extinct. With the newly hatched firehawk, the three of them head off on a mission to find an ancient firehawk magic that could save the entire forest. Very basic adventure story but a good intro to the tropes for children. Unfortunately the quality really feels like it drops with each subsequent book; this will probably be the last one I bother reading.

Lumberjanes: The Moon Is Up

I honestly think I enjoy these Lumberjanes novels even more than the comics just because it really gives time to delve into each story and examine how the camper are really thinking and feeling about everything. (Also I’m always weak for novelizations of anything.) The Moon Is Up is a book that focuses more on Jo, and takes place during the camp’s much anticipated Galaxy Wars, a competition between cabins that goes over several days. While the campers prepare for these challenges though, they also run into a strange little creature with a penchant for cheese and theft. Roanoke cabin needs to keep ahead in Galaxy Wars and somehow deal with the fearsome Moon Pirates that a closing in...

Lumberjanes v4 (Out Of Time)

One of the Lumberjanes comics, a cool, girl-focused, queer comic series. Honestly, this is just a fun series that I never got as into as I should have. My advice is honestly to skip book one because it gets better as it continues, and I’ve really been enjoying the later books now that I’ve given it another go. It follows five campers at Miss Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s Camp for Hardcore Lady Types (Jo, April, Molly, Mal, and Ripley) as they handle all sorts of challenges, from friendship to crushes, camp activities to supernatural horrors, getting badges to not being brutally killed. Great if you liked the vibe of Gravity Falls but want it to be queer-er.

Mooncakes

Another queer graphic novel, but unfortunately not a very good one. It really looked appealing and I had high hopes, but the book itself really didn’t hold up… I actually couldn’t even finish it, the plot was just too… non-existent. The art is fairly mediocre once you actually look at it, especially backgrounds, and it feels very… placid. Not much conflict or excitement or even a very compelling reason to keep reading. If you just want a soft queer supernatural you may get more mileage out of it than me, but it didn’t really do it for me. There’s better queer graphic novels out there.

New Boy In Town

One of the worst books I have ever read. My girlfriend had ordered a very different book online but through a frankly stupendous error was sent this 1980s pulp romance instead. Absolutely nauseating on levels I couldn’t even begin to enumerate here. Naturally we read the whole thing out loud. Probably took us 10 times longer to finish than it warranted because I had to stop every two sentences to lose my mind. If you like bad decisions, baffling hetero courting rituals, built-in cultural Christianity without actually calling it that, and gold panning then boy howdy is this the book for you.

(seriously, you better have patience for gold-panning if you attempt this one, because I sure learn that I don’t)

Piggies

This was a picture book I enjoyed as a kid and had a reason to reread recently. Honestly it’s just very cute and simple, and the art is completely mesmerizing. Wonderful if you know a young child that would enjoy a simple goofy boardbook.

Shaun the Sheep: Tales From Mossy Bottom

Related to my Aardman fascination earlier this month. I tried reading a varieties of Shaun the Sheep books — most of which are mediocre at best — but the Tales From Mossy Bottom Farm series is genuinely good. Just chapter books, of course, but the illustrations match the series’ concept art and each story feels like it could have jumped directly out of an episode. They’re just cute and feel-good! Kinda like Footrot Flats but more for kids, and from the sheep’s perspective moreso than the dog’s.

#aardman animation #shaun the sheep #lumberjanes #kid paddle #asterix #the last firehawk #hunger pangs: true love bites #marian engel #bear #canadian literature #canlit #queer lit #book review #book reviews #chatter

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wild-houseplant · 2 years

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/returns like a ghostly apparition, knocking on your window/ hello can we please get these for Rhodri ? 🍒 🎂 🥃 🍾

Oh henlo hi :3 *opens the window and welcomes you in with cake and goodies* Thank you for the asks! <3 I'm spoiled!! (any chance I could send you a few more as well? 8D ok if not!) Under the cut! We know how it rolls around here :D

🍒 Has your OC had their first kiss yet? If so, with who?

She has! It happened just shy of her nineteenth birthday, courtesy of her friend and fellow Circle mage, Stella. Stella's lovely! She's a very vivacious, absent-minded sort with absolutely no filter, and is an absolute beast at drawing, especially plants and intricate patterns. They end up in an open QPR (Stella's a pansexual loveless aro while Rhod’s pan-everything) and they're basically like those old couples that argue about weird shit like the ideal colour of toast right up 'til Rhodri's conscription a year later.

🎂 Has your OC got any contradictory interests or traits to the first perception people have of them? How do they surprise people?

HAHAHAHAHAH. Oh. My God. Well, the resting bitch face hides that she's a snuggle monster who's great with kids and babies, but I've talked about that a lot already.

Probably the thing that strikes most people as contradictory is the way she can jump between playfulness and earnest solicitude. It's mostly because she doesn't trust her gut in social situations (and fair, it's often misled her), so she's constantly analysing as she goes. It happens especially when someone makes a joke that she takes seriously. Bugger goes from comfort mode to hyena-esque laughing in 0.001 seconds. Throws 'em every time. :D

🥃 If your OC was in this universe, what would be their favourite show/book/band/social media platform?

Ooh. Do you know, I've never thought about this! Let's see... show-wise, I can see her going for documentaries. Especially ones about space and anything geology, but I think she'd watch just about anything. Book... at a guess, probably psychology textbooks so she could get a better grip of how she thinks, and how others think. Developmental psychology would be of particular use, I would imagine, so she'd feel very prepared as a parent. I do have a hc, though, that she has a very soft spot for heroic novels. Tales of the gallant, mighty protag saving the day with their strength and wisdom put stars in her eyes like nobody's business. Band... you know, I peg her as liking instrumental stuff, especially if it's rich and slow. To flesh out my characters, I listen to music until I find a song with the elements that scream their name to me. For Rhodri, I ended up with Méditation, from the opera Thaïs, played by the London Philharmonic Orchestra, so I'll put them as her favourite band. Link if you want to listen to the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mlNQhKOmPSs Haaa and social media platform? Mm. I can see her having a whale of a time on Tumblr, actually. She'd probably end up with a blog that she didn't write on much, but would reblog every cool thing she saw to make sure her mutuals caught it, too. At least once they suggested that instead of sending them a link to it via discord. She's undoubtedly a jim, bless her.

🍾 Does your OC believe in luck? If so, do they have any charm or ritual they do before a stressful event?

Nope to both of these. Not in the sense of an extraneous force rigging the game for you. There's definitely being lucky or unlucky, but that's because the outcomes of prior events were favourable or unfavourable and brought it to that point. She does like the idea of charms and rituals, though. They encourage a certain mindset, and they're often very beautiful, even if the force they're making their appeal to probably either doesn't exist, or won't listen.

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qqueenofhades · 4 years

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I want to hear about gay knights. Please.

Ahaha. So this is me finally getting, post-holiday, to the subject that was immediately clamoured for, when I volunteered to discuss the historical accuracy of gay knights if someone requested it. It reminds me somewhat of when my venerable colleague @oldshrewsburyian volunteered to discuss lesbian nuns, and was immediately deluged by requests to do just that. In my opinion, gay knights and lesbian nuns are the mlm/wlw solidarity of the Middle Ages, even if the tedious constructionists would like to remind us that we can’t exactly use those terms for them. It also forces us to consider the construction of modern heterosexuality, our erroneous notions of it as hegemonically transhistorical, and the fact that behaviour we would consider “queer” (and therefore implicitly outside mainstream society) was not just mainstream, but central, valorized, and crucial to constructions of medieval manhood, if not without existential anxieties of its own. Because medieval societies were often organized around the chivalric class, i.e. the king and his knights, his ability to make war, and the cultural prestige and homosocial bonds of his retinue, if you were a knight, you were (increasingly as the medieval era went on) probably a person of some status. You had a consequential role to play in this world, and your identity was the subject of legal, literary, cultural, social, religious, and other influences. And a lot of that was also, let’s face it, what the 21st century would consider Kinda Gay.

The central bond in society, the glue that made it work, was the relationships between soldiers, battlefield brotherhoods, and the intense, self-sacrifical love for the other that is familiar to anyone who has ever watched a war movie, and dates back (in explicitly gay form, at least) to the Sacred Band of Thebes. Medieval society had a careful and contested interaction with this ideal and this kind of relationship between men. Because they needed it for the successful prosecution of military ventures, they held it up as the best kind of love, to which the love of a woman could never entirely aspire, but that also ran the risk of the possibility of it turning (homo)sexual. Same-sex sexual activity was well-known in the Middle Ages, the end, full stop. The use of penitentials, or confessors’ handbooks, as sources for views or practices of queer sexual behaviour has been criticised (you will swiftly find that almost EVERYTHING used as a source for queer history is criticised, shockingly), but there remains the fact that Burchard of Worms’ 11th-century Decretum, a vast compilation of canon law, mentions same-sex behaviour among its list of sins, but assigns it a comparatively light penance. (I don’t have the actual passage handy, but it’s a certain amount of days of fasting on bread and water.) It assigns much heavier penalties for Burchard’s main concern, which was sorcery and the practice of un-Christian beliefs, rituals, or other persistent holdovers from paganism. This is not to say that homosexuality was accepted, per se, but it was known about, it must have happened enough for priests to list in their handbooks of sins, and it wasn’t The End of The World. Frankly, I am tired of having to argue that queer people existed and engaged in queer activity in the Middle Ages (not directed at you, but in general). Of course they did. Obviously they did. Moving on!

Anyway. Returning to gay knights specifically, the fact remained that if you encouraged two dudes to love each other beyond all other bonds, they might, you know, actually bang. This was worrisome, especially in the twelfth century, as explored by Matthew Kuefler, ‘Male Friendship and the Suspicion of Sodomy in Twelfth-Century France’ and Ruth Mazo Karras, ‘Knighthood, Compulsory Heterosexuality, and Sodomy’ in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago; University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 179-214 and 273-86. I have written a couple papers (in the ever-tedious process of one day being turned into journal articles) on the subject of the Extremely Queer Richard the Lionheart, some material of which can be found in my tag for him. Richard’s queerness has been argued over for a long time, we all throw rotten banana peels at John Gillingham who took it upon himself to deny, ignore, or minimize all the evidence, but anyway. Richard was a very masculine and powerful man and formidably talented soldier who could not be reduced to the stereotype of the effeminate, weak, or impotent sodomite, and the fact that he was a prince, a duke, and a king was probably why he was repeatedly able to get away with it. But he wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t the only one. He was very much part of his culture and time, even if he kept running into ecclesiastical reprisals for it. It happened. If you want a published discussion that covers some of my points (though not all of them), there is William E. Burgwinkle, ‘The Curious Case of Richard the Lionheart’, in Sodomy, Masculinity, and Law in Medieval Literature: France and England, 1050-1230 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), pp. 73–85. Also on the overall topic, Robert Mills, Seeing Sodomy in the Middle Ages (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015).

Peter the Chanter, a Parisian cleric, also wrote De vitio sodomitico, a chapter of his Verbum abbreviatum, fulminating against “men with men, women with women [masculi cum masculis […] mulieres cum mulieribus]” which apparently happened far too often for his liking in twelfth-century Paris (along with cross-dressing and other genderqueer behaviour; the Latin version of this can be found in ‘Verbum Abbreviatum: De vitio sodomitico’ in Patrologia Latina, ed. Jacques-Paul Migne (Paris: 1855), vol. 205, pp. 333–35). Moving into the thirteenth and especially fourteenth centuries, this bond only grew in importance, and involved a new kind of anxiety. Richard Zeikowitz’s book, Homoeroticism and Chivalry: Discourses of Male Same-Sex Desire in the 14th Century (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), explores this discourse in detail, and points out that the intensely homoerotic element of chivalry was deeply embedded in medieval culture – and that this was something that was not queer, i.e. unusual, to them. It is modern audiences who see this behaviour as somehow contravening our expected stereotypes of medieval knights as Ultra Manly No Homo Men. When we label this “medieval queerness,” we are also making a judgment about our own expectations, and the way in which we ourselves have normalized one narrow and rigid view of masculinity.

England then had two queer kings in the 14th century, Edward II and Richard II, both of whom ended up deposed. These were for other political reasons, but their queerness was not irrelevant to assessments of their character and the reactions of their contemporaries. Sylvia Federico (‘Queer Times: Richard II in the Poems and Chronicles of Late Fourteenth-Century England’, Medium Aevum 79 (2010), 25–46) has studied the corpus of queer-coded historical writing around Richard, and noted that while the Lancastrian propaganda postdating the usurpation of Henry IV in 1399 obviously had an intent to cast his predecessor in as unfit a light as possible, the accusations of queerness started during Richard’s reign, “well before any real practical design on the throne […] and well before the famous lapse into tyranny that characterized the reign’s last few years. In poems and chronicles produced from the mid-1380s to the early 1390s, and in language that is highly charged with homophobic references, Richard II is marked as unfit to rule”. E. Amanda McVitty (‘False Knights and True Men: Contesting Chivalric Masculinity in English Treason Trials, 1388–1415,’ Journal of Medieval History 40 (2014), 458–77) examined how the treason trials of high-status individuals centred on a symbolic deconstruction of his chivalric manhood, demoting and exiling him from the intricate homosocial networks that governed the creation and performance of medieval masculinity.

This appears to have been a fairly extensive phenomenon, and one not confined to the geopolitical space of England. Henric Bagerius and Christine Ekholst (‘Kings and Favourites: Politics and Sexuality in Late Medieval Europe’, Journal of Medieval History 43 (2017), 298–319) traced the use of ‘discursive sodomy’ as a rhetorical tool employed against five late medieval monarchs, including Richard II and his great-grandfather Edward II, John II and Henry IV of Castile, and Magnus Eriksson of Sweden. In all cases, the ruler in question was viewed as emotionally and possibly sexually dependent on another man, subject to his evil counsels and treacherous wiles, and this reflected a communal anxiety that the body of the king himself – and thus the body politic – had been unacceptably queered. Nonetheless, as a divinely anointed figure and the head of state, the accusations of gender displacement or suspected sodomy could not be placed directly on the king, and were instead deflected onto the favourites themselves, generally characterised as greedy, grasping men of ignoble birth, who subverted both social and sexual order by their domination of the supposedly passive king.

None of this polemic produced by hostile sources can be read as direct confirmation of the private and physical actions of the kings behind closed doors, but in a sense, this is immaterial. The intimate lives of presumably heterosexual individuals are constructed on the same standards of evidence and to much greater certainty. In other words, queerness and queer/gay favourites could not have functioned as a textual metaphor or charged accusation if there was not some understanding of it as a lived behaviour. After all, if the practice did not physically exist or was not considered as a potential reality, there could have been no anxieties around the possibility of its improper prosecution.

This leads us nicely into the deeply vexed question of adelphopoiesis, or the “brother-making” ceremony argued by some, including John Boswell, as a medieval form of gay marriage. (Boswell, who died of AIDS in 1994, published the landmark Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality in 1980, and among other things, controversially argued that the medieval Catholic church was a vehicle for social acceptance of gay people.) Boswell’s critics have fiercely attacked this stance, claiming that the ceremony was only intended to join two men together in a celibate sibling-like relationship. A Straight Historian who participated in a modern version of the ceremony in 1985 actually argued that since she had no sexual inclinations or motives in taking part, clearly it was never used for that purpose by medieval men either. (Pause for sighing.)

The problem is: we can’t argue intentions or private actions either way. We can understand what the idealized and legal designation for the ceremony was intended to be, but we cannot then outrageously claim that every historical individual who took part in it did so for the party line reason. Maybe medieval men who joined together in brother-making ceremonies did live a celibate and saintly life (this would not be surprising). It seems ludicrous to argue, however, that none of them were romantically in love with each other, or that they never ever ever had sex, because surprise, formulaic documents and institutional guidelines cannot tell us anything about the actions of real individuals making complex choices. Even if this was not always a homosexual institution (and once again with the dangerous practice of equivocating queerness with explicitly practiced and “provable” sexual behaviour), it was beyond all reasonable doubt a homoromantic one, and one sanctioned and organised according to well-known medieval conventions, desires (for two men to live together and love each other above all) and anxieties (that they might then have sex).

The medieval men who took a ‘brother’ would probably not have seen it as a marriage, or as the kind of household formation or social contract implied in a heterosexual union, but as we have also discussed, the definition of marriage in the Middle Ages was under constant contestation anyway. The church was constantly anxious about knights: their violence, their (oftentimes) lack of religiosity, their proclivity for tournaments, swearing, drinking, and other immoral behaviour, the possibility of them having sexual affairs with each other and/or with women (though Andreas Capellanus, in De amore, wrote an entire spectacularly misogynistic handbook about how to have the right kind of love affair with a woman and dismissed same-sex relationships in one sentence as gross and unworthy, so he was clearly the No Homo Bro Knight of his day). So, as this has gotten long: gay knights were basically one of the central social, religious, and cultural concerns of the entire Middle Ages, due to their position in society, their necessity in a warlike culture, the social influence of chivalry and their tendency to bad behaviour, their perceived influence over the king (who they may also have given their Gay Cooties), their disregard of the church’s teachings, and the ever-present possibility that their love wasn’t celibate. So yes. Gay knights: Hella Historically Accurate.

The end.

#history #medieval history #queer history #gay knights #long post #i have a lot more to say but yes #the old guard meta #for reference #though this post was originally written in december 2019 #anonymous #ask

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shining-red-diamond · 3 years

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Shallow Waters (Part V)

Words: 1.7k

Pairing: Hendery x Brittany (OC) (feat. WayV and Louis)

Rating: PG-15

Genre: fluff, some angst

Warnings: mentions of sex and mating, blood, mentions of abandonment and infidelity

Brittany’s lunch consisted of ham, broccoli, and mac & cheese, while Hendery chowed down on some raw salmon. He hated that he wouldn’t be able to try the foods that she or other humans enjoyed, but he was grateful she was willing to find him a variety of different fish. That way, he didn’t feel as if he was eating the same thing over and over again. The drinks, however, didn’t affect him, yet he preferred to drink just water.

The weather cleared up by the time the couple had finished their meals. While still cloudy, the rain and thunder had come to a halt. Hendery glanced out the window and watched the ocean as Brittany cleaned the dishes.

He then thought about his siren friends. It had been almost two months since he last saw them, and he figured they had to have been finished with helping the other sea creatures. What better opportunity for Brittany to meet the sirens?

Turning to Brittany, he asked her, “Would Brittany like to meet Hendery’s friends?”

She paused midway through loading the dishwasher when he spoke. There was a moment of silence before she answered, “Oh, the sirens?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, I would,” she smiled as she closed the dishwasher and started it. “When?”

“Would Brittany like to go now? The storm has stopped.”

She glanced out the window to see he was right. The clouds still looked heavy as if the bottom might fall out again, but if they were only gone for a few minutes they should be fine.

“Alright,” she nodded. “I’ll go change.”

Knowing they might have to swim again, Brittany went back to her room and slipped on her blue bikini before putting on a loose cover up. Hendery was in awe of her when she returned to the kitchen.

“Let’s go quickly before it rains again,” she said as she grabbed the merman’s hand, almost ignoring his admirations of her.

When they reached the beach, Hendery transformed into his merman form. He led her out in the same direction of where they first hung out about two months earlier; but instead of stopping there, they swam a little further until there was what Brittany could describe as an oasis. Palm trees as tall as a two story building produced coconuts, golden sand surrounded the sapphire-colored lagoon, and various birds inhabited the surrounding trees. A few stray cats and dogs drank from the water, but they never bothered the couple.

“Wait here,” Hendery instructed his lover before swimming off into the ocean.

Brittany sat down on the beach and patiently waited. Looking around, she spotted a shaded area by the lagoon and decided to wait under there. The moment she sat down a soft mew came from her left. When she took a glance, the sound had come from a Siamese cat sniffing at her wrist before licking her right on her dove tattoo. The cat then stared up at her with large blue eyes and sat down.

“Where did you come from, little buddy?” Brittany giggled. “You don’t seem to have a tag on you.”

Holding her hand out with her palm facing up, the cat sniffed her hand again and nuzzled its face in it. She scratched his head and smiled. The cat purred as he (she checked) brushed against her hip before resting his head on her stomach.

“Am I warm?” Brittany asked as she pet his back.

For a few minutes, she bonded with the cat, petting his head as he purred happily. She even named him Louis, despite him not being her pet.

“Brittany!” Hendery’s voice called to her, followed by a few splashes.

His head emerged, followed by his body and tail crawling up on the beach. He looks so gorgeous soaking wet from the ocean, Brittany thought as he adjusted himself in a comfortable sitting position.

The cat didn’t mind being carried in Brittany’s arms as she walked over to where her merman was sitting. When she sat down, the feline leaped out and scurried over to Hendery’s tail.

“Did Brittany make a new friend?” Hender chuckled as the cat tried playing his scales.

“He just came up to me as if he had known me for a long time,” she explained. “He’s a very social kitty.”

Hendery pet the furry friend for a second before he told Brittany to look out towards the ocean. “The sirens are about to appear.”

Sure enough, six heads popped up and moved closer towards the couple. Frightened by the sudden movements, the cat jumped and ran off.

“Funny creatures,” the merman commented before turning his attention back to the six sirens, who were now seemingly wading in the water.

“Hello, Brittany,” a siren with round eyes and a broad nose greeted with a friendly smile. “Hendery has told us great things about you. I’m Kun.”

All of them were well built with toned abs and strong biceps, but in a way that was pleasing to the eye and not so much body builder. It was more of them gaining strength and being fit from doing whatever it is they do. They each had a distinct tattoo somewhere on their arms, neck, or torso. Kun had a fatherly presence as he seemed to be the leader figure of the group and sported a mark shaped in a sort of sun with rays on his shoulder.

“Sirens who are opposite of the myth,” the tallest one with a deep voice jokes.

“I’m aware,” Brittany nods. “What’s your name?”

“Lucas.”

One by one, the sirens introduced themselves to Hendery’s lover. Lucas’s skin was more tan than the others, and he had a sort of flower tattoo on his left side. Xiaojun was well-mannered with sharp eyes and a mark of a starfish shape on his hip. The second tallest, WinWin, had a unique ears shape where one was more pointed than the other and a softer jawline with some sort of mended heart shape etched the center of her sternum. A feline faced siren of the bunch called himself Ten and sported an intricate tattoo on his right forearm; and the smallest siren YangYang was the youngest and had a more boyish aura about him while his tattoo was displayed over where his heart would be.

“Hendery has told me how you took him in,” said Brittany as she sat up a little straighter.

“We were all very young,” Ten explained. “YangYang was almost one and Kun was five. When we were all swimming around the Gulf of Mexico one day, we saw a tiny, two year old merboy so weak and crying.”

“So, you raised him when you guys were basically children?”

“Sirens’ brains age differently from humans and merfolk,” WinWin added. “However, we still lived with another mermaid who cared for us until Kun was fourteen.”

“Once Hendery turned eighteen, he ventured off around the world,” the merman finished. “He settled in Florida, because his friends lived there.”

“And that’s where he found you, Brittany,” Kun finished.

The sirens continued telling their stories about adventures with Hendery and updating their friend on what they were doing in the ocean. Each of them were extremely kind and didn’t hesitate to help others in need, even going to war to protect a race of sea nymphs in the Mediterranean. Yet, whenever Brittany asked what makes Hendery different from the other merfolk, they just gave her the same answer her lover did: sharp teeth with an appetite for only raw fish.

“I mean, who were his parents?” she asks.

“Well, we know for a fact his father is the king of a mermaid city off this coast,” Ten answered. “We found that out about a year after we took him in. The king was infamous for sleeping with other creatures before he crowned a mermaid his queen. So far, Hendery was the only result of his affairs. We’re not quite sure who his mother was.”

Brittany examined Hendery as he chomped on a flounder YangYang had caught for him, fish blood trickling down a little bit.

“He could be only half-merfolk,” she concluded.

“That’s what we have thought as well,” Kun agreed. “But we never brought it up as to not make him feel that he wasn’t worth anything by being different.”

“He is different” -she looked at her lover once more- “but special.”

His cheeks blushed as he wiped his mouth.

Louis returned to the small gathering, and he immediately wanted some of Hendery’s snack. The merman happily tore off a piece and fed it to him.

“So, are you guys mates yet?” YangYang asked as he tried to reach out and pet the cat.

Brittany was confused. “In what sense?”

Kun thumped the youngests forehead. “You can’t just ask couples stuff like that.”

“Sorry,” the youngest yelped. “I just noticed she doesn’t have a mark yet, and I was curious.”

“Brittany and Hendery are lovers,” Lucas added. “There’s a difference.”

His comment is what switched on the lightbulb in Brittany’s brain.

“Wait, mates?” she repeated. “As in, have we...done the deed? And what’s a mark have to do with anything?”

Kun explained everything to Brittany. For merfolk, the mate’s mark was given to females in the space between the neck and the shoulder, and the male would have an imprint of the wound in the exact spot on his skin. In a sense, it was like a marriage ritual between the two beings who truly loved each other.

“But as you have guessed,” the eldest siren finished, “it’s done during intimacy.”

Brittany nodded. Hendery held her hand and kissed it. He knew sooner or later they would have to follow through with the ritual, but he respected his lover enough to go forward with it if she was ready.

“I apologize if I said anything out of turn,” YangYang piped up. “I say things without thinking sometimes.”

“You’re fine,” she reassured him.

WinWin glanced behind him towards another end of the beach. “We have to go,” he informed.

Kun nodded. “We’ll hang out again, soon,” he promised. “YangYang put the cat down.”

WIth a finish trick splash, the six sirens swam off to whatever task they had been called to do, and Louis shook himself dry.

Tags: @fantasywayv @ezralia-writes @dearyongs @strawberryguema @daybreakx @neocitybyday @jaekissd @not-majestic-bluenicorn @queen-of-himbos @lilhwahwa @philosopher-of-fandoms @the32ndbeat @dreamystuffers

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babayagatestblog · 4 years

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Ivory snuffbox showing the Abduction of Io, 1825. V&A Museum, London.

Over the last few weeks, during my lockdown drift, I’ve been browsing through a collection of pocket snuffboxes held at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. Snuffboxes were lavishly decorated containers used to store pulverized tobacco, a popular stimulant and panacea for the aches and pains of the European aristocracy during the colonial period. The boxes at the V&A – available to view in intricate detail online – are glitzy, ostentatious combinations of gold, silver, tortoise shell, fine wood, diamonds, and semi-precious stones. Many include tiny porcelain paintings of lovers or tales from antiquity. This one, made in London in 1825, features an elaborately carved ivory depicting the rape of Io, a priestess of the goddess Hera, seduced by Zeus in the form of a cloud. Another box from Germany in 1765, made of a lawn-green chrysoprase and diamonds laid over pink, orange, and yellow tinsel, slightly resembles a rose garden, or a really gaudy Claire’s compact.

Before the French revolution, the most sought-after architects, designers and craftsmen in Paris had workshops for the production of little boxes and trinkets. At the height of the craze for courtly elegance, these ‘toys’ could be found all over Europe and Russia, in pockets newly sewn into trousers and skirts. King Frederick of Prussia, a huge collector of little boxes, carried one around with him at all times. It was even said that his snuffbox stopped a bullet from killing him during the Seven Years War. Later, before he died, he had them all laid out in his room, surrounding him like reliquaries, or miniature tombs.

I don’t know what got me thinking about this object, but now it won’t leave me alone. It keeps coming into my mind, troubling me during moments I least expect it. Maybe it has something to do with the word. ‘Snuffbox’ conjures up all sorts of unsettling associations. ‘Snuff out,’ ‘snuff film,’ putting something in a box, a casket. In addition to keeping someone’s hands busy, offering snuff evolved into a secret social code of wordless gestures, the ‘Language of the Tabatière.’ I can’t help but imagine that these boxes were somehow a precursor to the iPhone, their role as addictive distraction well outliving the form.

Chrysoprase & diamond snuffbox owned by Frederick II, 1765. V&A Museum.

Although hugely popular in Europe, snuff was originally used by indigenous populations across Brazil and the West Indies. While traveling the New World as part of Columbus’ second voyage, a Franciscan monk came upon a priest in Haiti snorting pulverized tobacco. The still mysterious herb was then introduced to the Spanish court and promoted as a cure for headaches. Under the reign of Queen Anne, snuff was called the “final reason for the human nose,” while Catherine de Medici proclaimed it the “Herba Regina.” By the 17th century, England, Portugal, and Spain all had colonies in the Americas in order to satisfy a growing demand in Europe. Having exhausted the labor of native populations, roughly 10.5 million Africans were transported to work on tobacco, rice, and sugar plantations in South America and the Caribbean. (For comparison, only about 6% of people enslaved as part of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade were shipped to North America). In retrospect, the winsome décor of the snuffbox seems to contradict, obscure, or deny this wider history of cultural robbery and enslavement.

“Jack and the Golden Snuffbox” is an English fairy tale recorded by folklorist Joseph Jacobs in an 1890 anthology of English children's stories. In the story, Jack, a young boy, decides to leave his provincial home in order to explore the world and discover a new life for himself. To help him along his journey, his father gives him a magical snuffbox. After wandering for some time, Jack is taken in by a maid and her father. Jack falls in love with the maid, but her father won’t let him marry unless the boy satisfies an impossible demand. “At eight o’clock in the morning,” he says, “I must have a great lake and some of the largest man-of-war vessels sailing before my mansions, and one of the largest vessels must fire a royal salute, and the last round must break the leg of the bed before where my young daughter is sleeping. And if you don’t do that, you will have to forfeit your life.” Without any recourse, Jack decides to open up the golden snuffbox. Out come three little red men, who build him a large, supernaturally endowed war vessel floating on a lake.

Rococo engraving by Jean Mondon, 1740.

I’m no authority on folklore, and this is just the beginning of the tale. But the imagery is striking. It isn’t surprising that the snuffbox would be considered an enchanted object. The powder, originating from the Haitian ritual, was thought to have mysterious healing properties. The box could also be considered a protection from death, as the legend of King Frederick shows. But what about the psychological drama behind Jack and his future father-in-law? I’m reminded of a passage from Toni Morrison’s Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination, in which she investigates the allure of the New World as an opening for Englishmen looking to escape the “powerlessness felt before the gates of class, caste, and cunning persecution.” One could move from “discipline and punishment to disciplining and punishing; from social ostracism to social rank.” We are told that the pressures Jack faces are inordinately difficult, blown out of realistic proportion. Essentially a penniless boy, he builds himself a war vessel, clears a piece of land, travels the world, but only through the help of the red men, imagined to be otherworldly, mute, exploitable.

When I started investigating the snuffbox, an object I came across more or less at random, I did not expect to discover such a layered history. It’s colonial background, magical suggestion, and excessive decoration are rooted in a historical time and place, but it isn’t disconnected from the here and now. “Sometimes first impressions gather up some of the residue of centuries,” says John Berger. Maybe it isn’t so strange I would have thought about this object when white Europe and America are again realizing how far off the mark they are in attempting to right the wrongs of the colonial past. This highly crafted, dazzling, revealing little object makes me consider the difference between a beauty that seeks to conceal or compensate for brutality, versus the kind of beauty in art that challenges violence, rejects it, and ultimately enables us to see more clearly our own tendencies for both violence and compassion. These are questions I am thinking about in the wake of George Floyd’s murder, when the virality surrounding his death – as well as Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Elijah McClain – has been such a prominent part of current visual culture.

Death has never had a mimetic afterlife quite like this. It is there in our hand-held devices, flattened to fit into a stream of other images. Names of people who have lost lives to police brutality have occasionally been aestheticized with the help of colorful graphics for wider sharing. Are there conflicting desires behind these pictures – to both reveal and obscure? Many writers have recently challenged us to think harder about sharing on social media, including Allissa V. Richardson in her new book, Bearing Witness While Black. In her brilliant film essay and lecture, “The Black Meme,” Legacy Russell points out that there has been a certain amount of ‘gamifying’ in attempts to fit Breonna Taylor’s name into clever tweets, grocery lists, and crossword puzzles. We do not yet have the ability to look back and see what the real-life outcome of widespread sharing on social media will be. But I wondered, when scrolling through the images of the boxes on the V&A’s website, whether it wasn’t possible for people to give more consideration to what it was they are holding in their hands, and the meanings behind their own rituals of sharing. Do trends on social media somehow anesthetize us to the pain of the story? Are they themselves a form of distraction? Could I be involved in more pro-active forms of justice, and working on a more transformative form of art? The past filters into the present in ways we least expect it. It is there to help, if only we can tune in and listen.

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coteriesrp · 4 years

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Cursed by their unbridled sensuality, the divas are obsessed by aesthetic perfection. A fashion model overdosing on a bad batch of heroin, a YouTube clip of a perfectly executed beheading, the dazed eyes of a child who has seen too much, or the reflection of the moon in a pool of blood – these are the kinds of things that make a Toreador lose themselves. They say the first diva finally died in front of their looking glass, unable to tear their gaze away from the image of their face touched by the reflected dawn. But, to dismiss the Toreador as wanton perverts or shallow artists is the last mistake a Kindred will ever make. Beauty is power, and love can make anyone do just about anything. And that is the promise of the Toreador. They can make even the dead feel something raw, something real.

CLAN TOREADOR has ever preached selectiveness in its rituals of the Embrace. The clan elders stress time and again that the clan requires pioneers among the arts and every kind of avant-garde. The clan is at its strongers when comprised of the freshest thinkers and those who desire experimentation and aesthetic discovery. For this reason, many Toreador emerge from the ranks of accomplished artists, both new and faded. But not all artists need wield a brush: to the Toreador, art encompasses all forms of entertainment and stimulation. The clan courts the greatest actors, singers, writers, dancers, and even sex workers, if the degenerates believe such mortals will offer something new to their clan.

Despite the custom of Embracing only the best, the Toreador fixation on beauty and innocence has caused many a diva to make a fledgling in haste. Many a moonlit night, new clan members have merged as shallow hedonists, one-hit wonders, or just a stunning body with nothing else to offer. The greatest mistakes are erased and forgotten. Still, the clan is diverse, its members considering the ensemble as a kaleidoscope of talent and beauty.

THE TOREADOR BANE is that they exemplify the old saying that art in the blood takes strange forms. They desire beauty so intensely that they suffer in its absence.

toreador archetypes.

L’ARTISTE

The Toreador indulge in the beauty of all art forms and strive to be creators themselves. Whether competent on the strings of the violin, weaving notes as lustrous as the subtle glow of the crescent moon, or wielding a spray-can to form harsh prismatic lines on back-alley walls, this Kindred is an artist revered intensely by their clan.

STAGE MANAGER

Without a puppeteer to pull the strings, the puppet would not know how to dance. This diva’s finger is constantly on the pulse of the night. They know every happening at every club and bar worth a visit, and likely have great influence over several such places and the people who go there. Deeply connected to a city’s social atmosphere, they have the knowledge to help others gain or lose the spotlight as they please.

GADABOUT

With charisma, social intellect, and a cunning smile, the world is yours to conquer. The gadabout hedonist masters the art of manipulation, attraction, and empathy so well that even shy Cainites desire their attention or take pleasure in watching as they effortlessly mingle into every clique and category. This Toreador fits into any profession in which handling customers, patients, or clients is key, and they use every trick in the book to get their targets exactly where they want them.

PATRON OF THE ARTS

The patron is a collector of raw talent and promising beauty that just needs a guiding hand. They shape not clay or glass into intricate forms but people, and they see it as their gift to the world to pick out the best before they wither. The patron may pose as an eccentric heiress whose home is open to struggling poets and painters or they may take on the role of the talent scout or critic, aiding their pupils with funding and guidance in return for their blood.

THESPIAN SPY

The Toreador love a performance, and the one who plays at being a spy knows how to pry valuable chunks of information from a target, often taking more time than they need to properly enjoy the game. Perhaps over-dramatic, yet rarely suspected due to an affable nature, the thespian spy inserts themselves in multiple domains to entertain, observe, and compile libraries of information to exchange for other pleasures.

#toreador.#lore.#clans.

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kqlaughlin21 · 4 years

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Versatility in Ballet Choreography

From a surface level standpoint, ballet appears to be consistent in its presentation to an audience. There are clear staples within a ballet that are familiar to many of us, such as the extravagant leaps and the intricate footwork. After the readings this week and having discussions with the class, it is clear that ballet is extremely versatile when it comes to choreographic approach and presentation – it is filled with great substance that helps transport the audience to another world or bring light to issues that concern the present times. In our first reading, Balletic Astonishments, there was a clear depiction of what kind of influence Serge Diaghilev had on the developing world of ballet. His influence derived from him not being a dancer or choreographer, but rather a clever facilitator that was able to unite many different choreographers and performers that lived on multiple places of the spectrum. An eclectic gathering that aided in the progression of ballet through time. Diaghilev was the founder of Ballet Russe, a ballet company that had its debut in 1909. With the initial intentions of this dance troupe not being its own separate entity but rather a showcase for dancers that were on leave from established theaters, Ballet Russe soon became autonomous. It’s popularity sky rocketed and made an impact on the performing arts. Due to Diaghilev being a man of taste and ambition he was able to encourage imaginative choreography to five of the most important ballet choreographers of the century…

Michel Fokine

Vaslav Nijinsky

Leonide Massine

Bronislave Nijinska

George Balanchine

Typically following a pattern of favoritism and admiration, Diaghilev cycled through these choreographers – allowing them to set work on the Ballet Russe and showcasing their individual approaches to ballet choreography. Because of this eclectic approach, Diaghilev made classical ballet a modern art.

Other aspects worth noting…

Diaghilev was not rich and relied on many benefactors to keep the Ballet Russe out of debt

I thought it was interesting to notice that after Diaghilev had died, Ballet Russe was not able to sustain itself due to no one capable enough to uphold his legacy. I question why Diaghilev was not willing to essentially 'share the stage’ with any one when it came to how to run his company?

It was important that ballet stayed within the cultural confines of Russia – when a non-Russian joined the Ballet Russe, their names would be changed

Our second reading analyzed the structure and impact of three different ballets – Firebird choreographed by Michel Fokine, The Rite of Spring choreographed by Vaslav Nijinsky, and Les Noces (The Wedding) choreographed by Bronislava Nijinska. All three ballets were composed by Igor Stravinsky. The main points that were gathered through questions and discussions, revolved heavily around these ballets portrayal of women through a sociopolitical lens. As well taking into account how the musical score aided in the progression of the narrative or theme. All three ballets were successful in starting new conversations that surrounded the political climate of that given time. In class we were assigned to analyze one of the three ballets and I got assigned Les Noces, translating to – The Wedding. Known as the most abstract of the three Stravinsky ballets, it was also the most accurate in portraying a women’s real life. It’s debut was in 1923 and the reading explained how the timing of its release was extremely impactful, because Russian women were going through major political shifts that allowed them new found rights but were unsure how to exactly navigate through them because of the war. Les Noces centers it’s plot around a peasant wedding and specifically giving insight to the perspectives of the bride, the groom, and the parents. The choreographer, Nijinska, was not one to use pantomiming or props, she wanted the use of movement to speak for itself. So we see a lot of symbolism happening through dynamic movements and actions throughout this ballet. Stravinsky also went through a lot of research to compose the score for this ballet, paying close attention to Russian folksongs. This ballet was able to present a clear disdain from social rituals, even though the actions did not mimic the true thoughts of the woman getting married. A community practice of marriage was being displayed and clear social issues surrounding women and their roles was also prevalent.

Further notes…

Choreographically Les Noces did not allow for individual voices to emerge due to its portrayal of a community as one

The costumes played a huge role in depicting how marriage in these communities are circumstantial – they were all essentially dressed the same with slight variations to the bride and groom, then ultimately absorbed back into the community to show insignificance in feelings for each other; rather seen more as an economic transaction

Symbolism behind the braids

It took 10 years for this ballet to come to fruition due to financial issues and the outbreak of the First World War

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neuroticevolution · 3 years

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How Did Belief Evolve?

About 20 years ago, the residents of Padangtegal village in Bali, Indonesia, had a problem. The famous, monkey-filled forest surrounding the local Hindu temple complex had become stunted, and saplings failed to sprout and thrive. Since I was conducting fieldwork in the area, the head of the village council, Pak Acin, asked me and my team to investigate.

We discovered that locals and tourists visiting the temples had previously brought food wrapped in banana leaves, then tossed the used leaves on the ground. But when plastic-wrapped meals became popular, visitors threw the plastic onto the forest floor, where it choked the young trees.

I told Acin we would clean up the soil and suggested he enact a law prohibiting plastic around the temples. He laughed and told us a ban would be useless. The only thing that would change people’s behavior was belief. What we needed, he said, was a goddess of plastic.

Over the next year, our research team and Balinese collaborators didn’t exactly invent a Hindu deity. But we did harness Balinese beliefs and traditions about harmony between people and environments. We created new narratives about plastic, forests, monkeys, and temples. We developed ritualistic caretaking behaviors that forged new relationships between humans, monkeys, and forests.

As a result, the soils and undergrowth were rejuvenated, the trees grew stronger and taller, and the monkeys thrived. Most importantly, the local community reaped the economic and social benefits of a healthy, vigorous forest and temple complex.

Acin taught me that science and rules cannot ensure lasting change without belief—the most creative and destructive ability humans have ever evolved.

“A cremation ceremony is held in the Sacred Monkey Forest near the village of Padangtegal in Bali, where the author’s investigations into plastic littering emphasized the power of belief to change behavior. (Credit: Shankar S./Flickr)”

Most people assume “belief” refers to religion. But it is so much more. Belief is the ability to combine histories and experiences with imagination, to think beyond the here and now. It enables humans to see, feel, and know an idea that is not immediately present to the senses, then wholly invest in making that idea one’s reality.

We must believe in ideas and abilities in order to invent iPhones, construct rockets, and make movies. We must believe in the value of goods, currencies, and knowledge to build economies. We must believe in collective ideals, constitutions, and institutions to form nations. We must believe in love (something no one can clearly see, define, or understand) to engage in relationships.

In my recent book, Why We Believe, I explore how we evolved this universally and uniquely human capacity, drawing on my 26 years of research into human and other primates’ evolution, biology, and daily lives. Our 2-million-year journey to complex religions, political philosophies, and technologies essentially follows a three-step path: from imagination to meaning-making to belief systems. To trace that path, we must go back to where it started: rocks.

A llittle over 2 million years ago, our genus (Homo) emerged and pushed the evolutionary envelope. Its hominin ancestors had been doing pretty well as socially dynamic, cognitively complex, stone tool–wielding primates. But Homo ratcheted up reliance on one another to better evade predators, forage and process new foods, communally raise young, and fashion superior stone tools.

One of the skills that helped Homo succeed was imagination—an ability you can use now to picture how it developed.

Imagine an early Homo preparing the evening meal. She knows stones can be hit and flaked to form sharper utensils that cut and chop. She also knows the stone tools her ancestors made don’t do a particularly great job: They take a long time to hack the raw meat off a carcass, to smash and grind the roots the community has dug up, and to crack open bones and scoop out the delicious marrow.

“Acheulean hand axes (shown here) were made by members of the genus Homo as far back as 1.76 million years ago. Named after the French site where they were first identified, these tools have been found across Africa, Europe, and Asia. (Credit: Rolf Quam/Binghamton University/EurekAlert) “

One day she looks at her brethren laboring to create simple, one-sided, flaked stone tools. She sees, in her mind’s eye, flakes being removed from both sides, further sharpening the edges and balancing the shape. She creates a mental representation of a possibility—and she makes it her reality.

She and her descendants experiment with more extensive reshaping of stones—creating, for example, Acheulean hand axes. They begin to predict flaking patterns. They conceive of more diverse instruments for slicing roots and raw meat, and carving bone and wood. They translate private musings and imaginings into communal realities. When they make a discovery, they teach one another, speeding up the invention process and expanding the possibilities of their efforts.

By 500,000 years ago, Homo had mastered the skill of shaping stone, bone, hides, horns, and wood into dozens of tool types. Some of these tools were so symmetrical and aesthetically pleasing that some scientists speculate toolmaking took on a ritual aspect that connected Homo artisans with their traditions and community. These ritualistic behaviors may have evolved, hundreds of thousands of years later, into the rituals we see in religions.

With their new gadgets, Homo chopped wood, dug deeper for tubers, collected new fruits and leaves, and put a wider variety of animals on the menu. These activities—expanding their diets, constructing new ecologies, and altering the implements in their environment—literally reshaped their bodies and minds.

In response to these diverse experiences, Homo grew increasingly dynamic neural pathways that allowed them to become even more responsive to their environment. During this time period, Homo’s brains reached their modern size.

But their brains didn’t uniformly enlarge. Parts of the frontal lobes—which play critical roles in emotional, social, motivational, and perceptual processes, as well as decision-making, attention, and working memory—expanded and elaborated at an increased rate.

Another brain organ that ballooned was the cerebellum. Over the course of hominin history, our lineage added approximately 16 billion more cerebellar neurons than would be expected for our brain size. This ancient brain organ is involved with social sensory-motor skills, imitation, and complex sequences of behavior.

These structural changes helped Homo generate more effective and expansive mental representations. What emerged was a distinctively human imagination—the capacity that allows us to create and shape our futures. It also gave rise to the next step in the evolution of belief: meaning-making.

The rise of imagination sparked positive feedback loops between creativity, social collaboration, teaching, learning, and experimenting. The advent of cooking opened up a new landscape of foods and nutrient profiles. By boiling, barbecuing, grinding, or mashing meat and plants, Homo maximized access to proteins, fats, and minerals.

This gave them the nutrition and energy necessary for extended childhood brain development and increased neural connectivity. It allowed them to travel greater distances. It enabled them to evolve neurobiologies and social capacities that made it possible to move from imagining and making new tools to imagining and making new ways of being human.

By about 200,000 years ago, Homo had begun to push the artistic envelope. Groups of Homo sapiens were coloring their stone tools with ochres—red, yellow, and brown pigments made of iron oxide. They were likely also using ochres to paint their bodies and cave walls.

Ochre decoration requires far more complicated cognitive processes than, for example, an Australasian bowerbird arranging sparkling glass and other baubles around its nest to attract a mate. It requires the kind of complex creative sequences made possible by elaborate frontal lobes, a dense cerebellum, and more diverse and intricate social relationships.

Imagine an early Homo sapiens who wants to paint a stone ax. She and her companions must seek out specific types of rocks and use a tool to scrape off the iron oxides. Then, they might manipulate the minerals’ chemistry, mixing them with water to transform them into pigments or heating them to turn them from yellow to red. Finally, they must apply the paint to the ax, changing how light reflects off its surface—making it look different, making it into a new thing.

When early humans colored something (or someone) red or yellow, it changed the way they perceived that tool, that cave, that person. They were using their imagination to reshape their world to match their desired perceptions of it. They were imbuing objects and bodies with a new, shared meaning.

Gradually, they established relations with more and more distant groups, sharing meanings for the items they swapped and the interactions they exchanged. In short, Homo sapiens began engaging full time in meaning-making.

Collective meaning-making changes the way humans perceive and experience the world. It enables us to do the wildly imaginative, creative, and destructive things we do. It is during this period that Homo broke the boundaries of the material and the visible so the realm of pure imagination could be made tangible.

When a typhoon smashes into land, it tosses trees like matchsticks and fills the air with a deafening roar that drowns out voices. For millennia, every animal caught in such a storm feared it, hunkered down, and waited for it to pass. But at some point, members of the genus Homo began to explain it.

We don’t know when it happened, but within the last few hundred thousand years, humans had developed the imagination, the thirst for meaning, and the communication skills necessary for creating explanations of mysterious phenomena.

By 300,000 to 400,000 years ago, human groups across the planet were sparking fires with sticks and stones, and carefully transporting the flames. And by 80,000 years ago, they were carrying water in intricately carved ostrich eggshells. They made glues to craft containers, adorned themselves with beads, painted with multi-ingredient pigments, and etched geometric patterns into shells, stones, and bones.

These kinds of hyper-complex, multi-sequence behaviors cannot simply be imitated. They require explanation. So, when researchers see multiple instances of abstract art and creative crafts, we assume individuals were engaging in deep, intricate communication based on shared meanings.

By at least 40,000 to 50,000 years ago, representational art arose: depictions of hunts, animal-human hybrids, blazing sunsets, and hand prints waving, as if they are signaling

Once groups are attributing shared meaning to objects they can manipulate, it is an easy jump to give shared meaning to larger elements they cannot change: storms, floods, earthquakes, volcanoes, eclipses, and even death. We have evidence that by at least a few hundred thousand years ago, early humans were placing their dead in caves. Within the past 50,000 years, distinct examples of burial practices became more and more common.

Through language, deeply held thoughts and imaginings could be transferred rapidly and effectively from individuals to small groups to wider populations. This created large-scale shared structures of meaning—what we call belief systems.

Between about 4,000 to 15,000 years ago, numerous radical transitions occurred in many populations. Humans started to domesticate plants and animals. They developed, along with agriculture, substantial food storage capacities and technologies. Concepts of property and inequality emerged. Towns and, eventually, cities grew. All of this led to the formation of multi-community settlements with stratified political and economic structures.

This restructuring profoundly shaped, and was shaped by, belief systems. Toward the end of this period—by 4,000 to 8,000 years ago—we see clear evidence of formal religious institutions: monuments, gathering places, sanctuaries, and altars.

There are numerous explanations for the evolution of religions, and none of them by itself is satisfactory. Some proposals are psychological: Our ancestors understood that other individuals have different mental states, motivation, and agency, so they attributed those same qualities to supernatural agents to explain everything from lightning to illness.

Other researchers note that the rise of huge, hierarchical communities that engaged in large-scale cooperation and warfare correlated with the rise of far-reaching, hierarchical religions with powerful, moralizing deities. Some scientists posit that “big groups” prompted the creation of “big gods” who could enforce order and cooperation in unruly societies. Other researchers hypothesize the reverse: that humans first created “big god” religions in order to coordinate larger and larger social groups.

Still other experts say the human capacity for imagination became so expansive it reached beyond the real and the possible into the unreal and the impossible. This generated the capacity for transcendence—a central feature in the religious experience.

But though belief can be transcendent, creative, and unifying, not all of humanity’s beliefs are beneficial.

For example, many humans today believe the world should be exploited for our benefit. Many believe that racial, gendered, and xenophobic inequalities are a “natural” result of inherent differences. Many believe in religious, scientific, or political fundamentalism, which is often used as a weapon against other belief systems.

Over the past 2 million years, we have evolved a capacity that has benefited humans but can also introduce horrible possibilities. It is up to us to manage how we use this power.

Now that we have asked, Why do we believe?, we should ask, What do we want to believe, for the sake of humanity?

https://www.discovermagazine.com/planet-earth/how-did-belief-evolve

#evolution #belief #religion #rational

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blog-aanchal1234421 · 4 years

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Diwali Look Guide To Look Drop Dead Gorgeous This Diwali

The five-day Diwali Festival always starts with full enthusiasm! We can’t just stay relaxed, as Diwali is just around the bend! Though we’re all looking forward to celebrating Diwali with our loved ones, it’s the thought of lining up in the most glamorous, opulent & scenic ethnic outfits for the pre-Diwali festivities that gets everyone enthusiastic. Since you’ve arranged for pujas and family celebrations, your social calendar is often full of invitations to various card gatherings. Getting dressed up in the finest Indian ethnic costumes and adorning sparkling diamond jewellery is just what Indians love, for this is a chance to enjoy Indian culture in all its glory. With the socializing breeze, these are also the days to show off your best set of silk sarees, photo-friendly lehengas, pretty jewellery, and other magnificence outfits. Although your holiday looks shouldn’t be limited to these unique orchestras! The Diwali week is so full of moments where you need to play a low-key game on your costume, and you’re always out there looking fab! We’re putting together some stunning Diwali look with chic dresses and our trendy Diwali jewellery that would make you look drop-dead gorgeous. Ready to spice things up, huh?

Diwali Look #1- Slay it with an overcoat

This saree trend is undoubtedly a “jackpot-Win”-you might have seen plenty of fashion bloggers on this eccentric look. We love the mix of wearing a long overcoat with a cotton or chiffon saree and a waist belt. This healthy movement has undoubtedly redefined the conventional definition. You can also use a diamond-studded necklace to make it all the more glamorous. Our dual heart earrings and a delicate horseshoe bracelet with Avtaara’s blooming flower ring are going to be your Diwali look of the year.

Diwali Look #2- Invigorating gowns

Ditch the conventional theme and flaunt a more modern look with long dresses and gowns. This would be the perfect outfit for women of all ages. If you want to lend your look a formal touch, go for gowns with beautiful embroideries and elegant embellishments. Such dresses are convenient-to-wear and are flawless for celebrations and Diwali dinners. It would be best if you paired your shift with a delicate pair of infinite charm earrings, or a dual heart pendant by Avtaara would also suit to complete the look for pujas and various other rituals. The slightly Indian touch of this outfit will improve its appeal and render it the ideal Indian Diwali outfit. For those who want to keep things plain, they should ditch embroideries and embellishments and go for ethnic patterns.

Diwali Look #3- Always a statement skirt and crop tops

Want to keep it traditional yet in a quirky way? Go for a pair of skirt and crop top, to bring up the jazz, make it monochrome like a peacock blue or the midnight black. This festival dress is ideal for those who want to add a western tone to a traditional style. Typically, the top and the skirt fit great in these styles of garments. But you can also get it tailored the way you want. A simple bright coloured top with a highly embellished skirt, a simple top and a skirt in different colours, or an intricately tailored blouse with a simple skirt are some of the types to choose from. Among many other Indian festival dresses, this one is very trendy among teenagers. After the dressing comes the part for the jewellery; with this merge, go for a poetic pair of earrings for a simply chic look, or you want to amp up your game, wear a solitaire station necklace, a beautiful blooming flower diamond ring, and earrings by Avtaara to complete this Diwali look.

Diwali Look #4- Wraparound sarees

Everyone loves a pallu flowing in the desi movies, but we are young women who always find ourselves in a problem of not knowing how to wrap a saree. Seeing that there is speedy advancement in every field, fashion is not left far behind. To save you from the hassle of going through the pain of draping the saree perfectly, with the right amount of pallu and proper pleats, markets now have ready to wear sarees called wrap around sarees. These sarees give you that traditional touch yet keeps it modern. Well, these wrap around sarees are generally close fitting and look lovely with a décolleté blouses. When you wear something like an off the shoulder top, you should go for the dressy lariat necklace that would bring all the focus on you. A beautiful, exquisite diamantine diamond bracelet and an infinite charm ring would enhance your Diwali look. Almost no outfit will make you appear more glamorous than a saree. When you prefer subtle styles, choose a simple saree, and match it with a chic blouse. You may also go for simple floral or abstract designs on chiffon or georgette. These sarees are incredibly lightweight, making them suitable for ceremonies and festivals.

Diwali Look #5- Palazzo suits

Today, the Palazzo suits are a rage with women of all ages. Ditch normal salwar suits for a change and instead pick quirkier palazzos to match it with a stylish kurta as well as a dupatta to complete your festive look. Thanks to its adaptability and flexibility, this festival outfit is ideal for traditional rituals. Pair it with Avtaara’s Salma diamond bangles and starstruck earrings would go perfectly with this attire.

Diwali Look #6- Palazzo and crop top

Giving a modern touch to the palazzo and suit can make you a little doubtful but trust us, it will be worth it when you see yourself in a palazzo and a boho-chic crop top. To give it a more traditional look, pair it with a designer dupatta and our circulo diamond earrings. To draw attention to your swan-like neck, you can go for a solitaire station necklace.

Diwali Look #7- Dhoti saree

Don’t ever overlook the influence of dull shades; it’s up to you to explore to get the most out of hues like chocolate. Much like a grey saree, it merely looks beautiful with an extraordinary blouse style. It’s great for a streamlined look since this one will never go over the top. It’s all about wearing a flattering dress! -Dhoti type saree with encircled hearts bangles in one hand and our round pave pendant is exactly what you need to attract everyone’s eye.

With all these Diwali looks guides, you can make a statement even this year; after all, this festival is all about spreading light and positivity. Get ready to rejoice and create some beautiful memories with your family and friends. Continuing to spread sparkle with lamps and Diya’s, vibrant fairy lights, tasty food, and lovely rangolis are the highlights of the Diwali festival. There’s really no pun intended, so here’s the expectation that Diwali is the bright light you’re looking for this year. Get this Diwali the most precious lab-grown diamond jewellery by Avtaara at a flat 5 % discount on all types of solitaires. This is a season for the premium Diwali discount to own a stunning jewellery set from Avtaara. Exclusive special Diwali sale up to 15 % from Avtaara, you can just simply buy it on this occasion and make your Diwali even more special.

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blog-aanchal1234 · 4 years

Text

Diwali Look Guide To Look Drop Dead Gorgeous This Diwali

How To Style On Diwali: Diwali Look Book 2020

Diwali Look #1- Slay it with an overcoat

Diwali Look #2- Invigorating gowns

Diwali Look #3- Always a statement skirt and crop tops

Diwali Look #4- Wraparound sarees

Diwali Look #5- Palazzo suits

Diwali Look #6- Palazzo and crop top

Diwali Look #7- Dhoti saree

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ladystylestores · 4 years

Text

‘I buried my cousin on Facebook Live’

The chairs were placed at least 1m (3ft) apart – family sat on one side, church officials on the other. Everyone wore a mask.

Everyone knew of the strict instructions that the Kenyan government had laid down for funerals during the coronavirus pandemic.

Only 15 people could gather for the burial of my cousin, Chris, and everything had to be done by 09:00 local time.

By 07:00 the rest of us had gathered, in front of our phones and computers, watching the burial unfold as a friend live-streamed it on Facebook.

There were hundreds of us to pay our last respects to Chris. He was a people’s person – the life and soul of family parties.

His deep laugh reached you even before he set foot in the house – in fact, you could hear it 200m away at the gate.

And Chris used to show up for people, be it at funerals or weddings. He was a great mobiliser, rallying people for all occasions.

So, on this day, we showed up for him too. But not being there meant it was not the same.

‘We couldn’t play his favourite songs’

Chris was my immediate cousin, but we were raised in the same house and he was more than a brother to me.

He died in Kisumu in western Kenya on Easter Sunday, after being unwell for a few weeks with liver cirrhosis.

The government gave us the guidelines for his burial. He had to be buried within three days.

But with many of his family and friends under lockdown in the capital, Nairobi, not everyone could attend the burial.

The sermon was short. The speeches were restricted. And there was very little singing.

Chris loved music – he played the drum kit in the Salvation Army church band. So it was painful that nobody could be there to play his favourite songs.

You may want to watch:

I watched as live comments from his friends and colleagues rolled in on Facebook.

In digital solace, people left messages of condolence and talked of how great a man Chris was.

And I thought, maybe I should take screenshots and print this out because this was essentially our condolences book.

Story continues

Everything felt so different. We could not hug, touch or see each other’s tears. We could not throw fistfuls of dirt on the coffin as it was lowered into the grave.

“The Facebook Live failed so I could not watch Chris’ final journey to the very end”https://ift.tt/2HfCbR7;, Source: Mercy Juma, Source description: BBC reporter, Image: Mercy Juma

When a loved one dies we seek to grieve, we look for comfort and closure. But how do you that when you are confined?

I was upset. I never imagined I would have to bury a loved one through social media. I never thought I would crave human contact that much. It was like a movie, except that I was part of the cast.

And sadly, the Facebook Live failed, due to a poor network connection. So I could not even watch Chris’ final journey to the very end. I did not see his coffin being covered.

You may also be interested in:

In many African societies death and life are intricately tied. Many traditions see death as a rite of passage – a transition to another form.

Hence the importance of ancestors – they are the people who have died but continue to “live” in the community.

This, in turn, means that when people die they must receive a perfect burial – complete with rituals that have been observed for generations.

For the communities in western Kenya where I come from, like the Luo and Luhya, a person’s death and their burial are incredibly important events.

Elaborate funeral with 10 different rites

A dead person is treated with utmost respect and there are death and burial rites to be followed, to ensure a faultless send-off.

First of all burials are not hurried, especially for the elderly. A person’s death is a call for celebration, even amidst the mourning and grieving.

Coronavirus: Key facts. [ Spreads when an infected person coughs droplets into the air ],[ Virus-packed droplets can be breathed in ],[ Droplets can also land on a surface ],[ Touching surface and then eyes, nose or mouth creates risk ],[ Washing of hands is therefore recommended after touching surfaces ], Source: Source: BBC, Image: Coronavirus

It takes at least a week for an adult to be buried. There is loud mourning and weeping, for days on end. People huddle together and help the bereaved to mourn.

Bonfires are lit in the homestead and people gather around them, embracing, crying, reliving the life of the departed.

There is the ritualistic slaughter of animals, and the preparation and serving of food and drinks to console mourners. It is a show of unity amongst neighbours and family.

The dead are brought home a day or two before the burial. They lie in the compound, to show that they are accepted and loved, even in death.

The Luo, a Nilotic people from western Kenya, have among the most elaborate burial customs in Kenya.

There are at least 10 rites involved from the announcement of death, to the removal of the shadow or spirit of the dead from the homestead, to the shaving of family members’ hair, and finally the remembrance ceremonies for the dead.

All these occasions require people to congregate and interact in huge numbers.

But during this pandemic, most of these rituals are simply off-limits, whether a person died of Covid-19 or not.

‘I have only partially grieved’

During the two days between Chris’ death and his burial, people at home were forbidden from singing loudly at night, lest they attract the neighbours who may want to come and grieve with the family.

There were no bonfires to sit around. And during the burial, even at the grave site, there was no hugging, or touching, no handshakes or kisses.

Government representatives were there to ensure all rules of social distancing were followed.

Forty days after one is buried, a memorial service is supposed to be held – the final celebration of their life. We, again, will not be able to do this for Chris.

I have this feeling that I have only partially grieved for Chris. This is not how he deserves to be mourned.

Maybe when all this is over – when we can hug again, and cry in each other’s arms – we will mourn him like we should.

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nemesis-nexus · 6 years

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Full Blue Blood Super Moon 2018 AVÈ NINGIZHEDA! AVÈ MARDUK! AVÈ SATANÌ! Tonight is the night of the Blue Blood Moon as well as Lunar Eclipse, a rare event which has not happened for at least a hundred and fifty years! The energy that will be emitted all throughout the night is going to be very intense, those who are more experienced will find that their ritual work is more potent than usual, those who are not as experienced may want to do only a basic ritual as if you are not used to dealing with this kind of energy you don't want it to get away from you! Don't try to be a badass and don't think that you're being cool if you try to do a more complex ritual with energy you're not familiar with because the only thing you will do is hurt yourself and possibly everyone around you! Tonight is also a bittersweet event for me as I laid a friend to rest this past Sunday and tonight is my niece's 11th birthday. It is a stark reminder of the delicate balance between Death and Life and that both flow into each other in the beginning and in the transitional period at the end. It is a reminder to always appreciate everyone in your life no matter how much of a pain in the ass they can be because you never know when that transitional period is going to come about. As we've discussed several times before Death is NOT just a physical thing, it is however one of the more difficult things to deal with because we know that physical death is not the end, however the person who has crossed the Great Divide is no longer with us physically and that does take its toll. Everyone mourns differently, some are loud and some are quiet, some work through it relatively quickly and some take longer. Whatever the case time to grieve is necessary for everyone, it is what connects the spirits of living and the deceased and lets them know how much their presence meant to all those whose lives were touched by the individual. It also lets the departed know that they are being let go so that they are able to continue their journey across The Great Divide. It may sound harsh to say but the passing of anyone whether it's a loved one or a social acquaintance should not be viewed as a time to be somber but as a time to rejoice! The reason why I say this is because Life is meant to be celebrated and the one who passed should have their Life remembered accordingly! It should be raised to the rafters why this person was able to touch so many instead of having their memory diminished because they are no longer physically with us! It does sound harsh because people are in a state of devastation, disbelief and mental anguish so saying something like that could be taken the wrong way and makes the one that said it look like a callous jerk but the truth is that the one crossing over would want us not to wallow in misery but to remember the good times and be grateful for having them! Glorious NINGIZHEDA we thank you for the opportunity that we have to meet all kinds of people throughout the duration of our lives, we understand that nobody enters our life for no reason, some people are here to stay and offer ports in the storm and others simply remind us that we need to stay alert because no matter how decent they may appear that the second our backs are turned they won't think twice about inserting a knife into it! Some people are a blessin and some people are a lesson! This especially holds true in business situations which is why we need to be especially careful with whom we choose to conduct business with because there are those who are very manipulative and they know how to play the game to their advantage and as good as we may be we are not always exempt! If something or someone seems too good to be true chances are it and they probably is/are and we should never assume anything! When it comes to matters of spirituality and divinity we must always take care of who is in our Circle because it does not take a whole lot for one weak link to do a whole lot of damage whether intentional or not! There are those out there who will infiltrate a group regardless of the nature of said group for the specific purpose of creating chaos, sometimes these people are paid and sometimes they do it because they lack anything better to do! At the end of the day it is our express responsibility to make sure that we know who is in our Circle especially in a ritual setting because not only do we hold our physical well-being in our hands, we also hold our metaphysical well-being as well and there are those who will not tolerate negative or compromised energy and they will respond to it! Not only will they respond in the immediate setting but they will let you know in all future interactions whether or not they will have anything to do with you! Nobody is going to waste their time dealing with someone who was unable to keep control of themselves and the situation on their end! When it comes to a rare occurrence such as a Blue Blood Supermoon and Lunar Eclipse, we definitely want to have a controlled environment, only working with those who are experienced because the energies are such that it might be overwhelming for those who don't have a whole lot of experience. This is not true in every situation because there are those who may have younger initiates who are learning the ropes so these people actively choose to do work that is not as intricate so that it does not become a situation where anyone's life is in danger. Everyone learns at their own pace however throwing someone into the snake pit so to speak doesn't help anyone especially the rest of the coven! This Blue Blood Moon is not ordinary by any stretch, in fact it is a TRIFECTA of natural phenomenon including a Blood Moon, a Blue Moon as well as a Lunar Eclipse that will occur early in the morning on the 31st. The energies that are going to be present are going to be incredibly potent which in turn will intensify all magickal workings, this is a good thing but it's also a double-edged sword which means people need to be aware of their surroundings not just physically but metaphysically as well. I personally am prepared for whatever is coming because after the last week and especially the last few years I believe everything's been building up and is now manifesting. I for one will never back down from Defense and Protection not only of my Family and Friends but of the Earth as well regardless of who the aggressor is because this Life - and I don't mean just my own I mean ALL forms of Life across the board from human to animal to plant and beyond - was entrusted to US to Guard! Given everything that's happened in the last few years I cannot believe for a second that it all occurred for nothing, everything happens for a reason and no matter how low I got or how bad it was you were by my side as you always have been NINGIZHEDA, my sense of Justice is heightened because of your presence and MARDUK my sense of Righteous Fury is unwavering because of your ability to make the tough calls even if it means standing up to a family member! Because of my Father Satani I am prepared to take on whatever is coming down the pike! So long as we have the Deity by our side we can take on anything! "Falling too fast to prepare for this Tripping in the world could be dangerous Everybody circling, it's vulturous Negative, nepotist Everybody waiting for the fall of man Everybody praying for the end of times Everybody hoping they could be the one I was born to run, I was born for this Whip, whip Run me like a racehorse Pull me like a ripcord Break me down and build me up I wanna be the slip, slip Word upon your lip, lip Letter that you rip, rip Break me down and build me up Whatever it takes 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins I do whatever it takes 'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains Whatever it takes You take me to the top I'm ready for Whatever it takes 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins I do what it takes Always had a fear of being typical Looking at my body feeling miserable Always hanging on to the visual I wanna be invisible Looking at my years like a martyrdom Everybody needs to be a part of 'em Never be enough, I'm the prodigal son I was born to run, I was born for this Whip, whip Run me like a racehorse Pull me like a ripcord Break me down and build me up I wanna be the slip, slip Word upon your lip, lip Letter that you rip, rip Break me down and build me up Whatever it takes 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins I do whatever it takes 'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains Whatever it takes You take me to the top, I'm ready for Whatever it takes 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins I do what it takes Hypocritical, egotistical Don't wanna be the parenthetical, hypothetical Working onto something that I'm proud of, out of the box An epoxy to the world and the vision we've lost I'm an apostrophe I'm just a symbol to remind you that there's more to see I'm just a product of the system, a catastrophe And yet a masterpiece, and yet I'm half-diseased And when I am deceased At least I go down to the grave and die happily Leave the body of my soul to be a part of me I do what it takes Whatever it takes 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins I do whatever it takes 'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains Whatever it takes You take me to the top, I'm ready for Whatever it takes 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins I do what it takes" Imagine Dragons ("Whatever It Takes") ZI ANA KANPA! ZI KIA KANPA! MAY THE DEAD RISE AND SMELL THE INCENSE! Etiamsi MULTA Et Nos UNUM Sumus Nos Sto Validus Ut Nos Sto Una! Semper Veritas, Semper Fideles, In Diabolus Nomen Nos Fides! AVE SATANÍ! (We Are ONE Even Though We Are MANY And We Stand STRONGEST When We Stand TOGETHER! Always TRUTHFUL, Always FAITHFUL, In Satan's Name We Trust! HAIL SATAN!) Ave URURU! Ave ENKI/EA! Ave NINGIZHEDA! Ave AZIMUA! Ave DIMUZI! Ave ININNI! Ave GILGAMESH! Ave ENKIDU! Ave TIAMAT! Ave ABSU! Ave MARDUK! Ave SARPANITUM! Ave SATANÍ! HAIL SATAN! HPS Meg "Nemesis Nexus" Prentiss

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miss-m-calling · 6 years

Text

Chocolate Box 2018 letter

Requesting (fic for all three):

Black Sails (Miranda Barlow/John Silver)

Jack Irish (Simone Bendtsen/Jack Irish)

Starred Up (Oliver Baumer/Eric Love )

Black Sails

Miranda Barlow/John Silver

I recently fell into this canon head-first and found myself with a special fondness for this ship, although they never really interact in canon at all. I definitely see it as an early seasons ship, not just because Miranda was, you know, alive, but because the early Silver was the ever-scheming trickster with a smile and a smart-allecky comment always up his sleeve, ever ready to lie, cheat, steal, and murder to his best advantage, yet already with glimpses of a capacity to care about people other than himself. What I’m saying is, he was fun to have around in a way the later Silver somewhat lost as the price of his character development.

We know Miranda has an eye for a handsome man. I suspect S1-2 Silver totally would bed the captain’s woman if he thought he could get away with it or it could be a way to manipulate Flint, only Miranda is smart and pragmatic, has a core of pure steel, and can see right through Silver, which I’m convinced she would. Unlike Flint, Miranda has done her grieving and she’s so ready to move on and feel alive again. Not saying that Silver would become another great love of hers, but they could have fun. He’d make her laugh. After years of Flint’s moods, Silver would be so easy to get along with. The sex could be great and not angsty or merely dutiful. He’d inevitably find an angle to play, but then Miranda’s no stranger to maneuvering around and with people, so maybe she’d find that his manipulative ways are half the fun. They might even fall in love for real, though that’s not a requirement, and I definitely don’t think love would be the same as absolute trust in this case. (Also I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make the relationship revolve around their shared fixation on Flint, or focus on Miranda’s angst about Thomas or the legacy of Thomas/Flint. These can be mentioned, but I’d prefer that doesn’t hijack the story.)

Prompts:

-Flint sends Silver to Miranda with a message or on an errand, and thinks nothing more of it (or possibly he wants Miranda’s assessment of how much he can trust the “new cook”). But then Silver and Miranda are intrigued by each other and start finding excuses to see each other again. Bonus points if they orchestrate encounters in a way which allows them both to pretend they don’t actually want to see each other again, it just happened, sometimes things just happen but now that they’re both here they might as well take advantage of this opportunity, etc.

-S2 divergence: James dies at Charles Town, and Miranda lives. Silver may or may not lose a leg. Silver and Miranda have to assume at least temporary leadership of the crew in order to get everyone safely back to Nassau. Do they become pirate co-captains or lady captain and her quartermaster? Do they dissolve the crew and try for a different life? Do they make a play for the Urca gold, after Silver confesses his double-dealing to an angry, grieving Miranda (Jack maybe doesn’t capture the gold, it’s still up for grabs, or if Jack does how does that play out)? I mention lower down I’d prefer no angsty sex for these two, but in this scenario I could see any sex that may happen being, at least at first, angry and angsty, but also conducive to emotional healing.

-Actual witch!Miranda. I mean storybook witch, with a cauldron in which she brews that invulnerability potion for Flint and possibly some broom-flying, rather than a Wiccan or another kind of real witch. Maybe she needs a human participant or human-sourced ingredients for some of her most powerful spells, and since Flint isn’t really comfortable with magic Miranda decides that the new ship’s cook will do, only magic has a way of binding people together more closely than they intended. Or maybe she attempts to bind a familiar, hoping for a cat or a bird, and the magic picks Silver, much to her (and his) initial consternation? Maybe Miranda doesn’t really know what she’s doing, she used to dabble in London but hasn’t tried making a spell in years and has none of her books of magic with her, or she’s heard the crew’s rumors about her and decided to give this whole magic thing a go, and oops it actually works! Either way, there would definitely be snark and “if I give you X for a spell, what’s in it for me?”

-Flint respected and cared about Miranda, but also kept her waiting on the sidelines while he did stuff. Gimme Miranda and Silver at a point where they trust each other, maybe not completely, but enough that they can scheme together, where she is impressed by his quick wits but she’ll also tell him when one of his plans is likely to go wrong in XYZ different ways. Then, obviously, they execute a plan/heist by drawing on their combined skill sets.

-Fucking someone is easy. Sleeping the night through next to that person is hard.

-Speaking of which: sex. With or without plot. In the bed, in the kitchen, in Nassau, on The Walrus when the rest of the crew is on shore-leave, or a stolen moment during the journey to Charles Town. First times, later times. Any position is good, I’ll just mention a couple possibilities: Cunnilingus with a side of mind games. Pegging. Fingering (of either by either). Intense (emotionally and physically) PIV. I could see them both initiating sex and wanting to “direct traffic” at one time or another, both wanting to keep up a front but then being ambushed by actual emotion and vulnerability. Let it be happy and giggly, or passionate, or playful, or unexpectedly tender, or seemingly casual and then very emotional and heartfelt – just please don’t let it be angsty.

-Miranda discovers she likes to get her fingers in Silver’s hair during sex, both gently and not. He likes it too, which is not to say he’ll necessarily admit he likes it.

-Sexual role-play: the demure lady abducted by a wicked pirate, only it turns out the lady’s resistance is symbolic at best. Who gets to play the lady and who the pirate is entirely open. If Miranda’s the lady, I suspect early seasons!Silver’s attempts at being menacing and dominating may make her break character for a giggle – and if Miranda’s the pirate menacing the demure and naïve, er, young gentleman, I’ll just say that I think she should wear Silver’s clothes (after washing them or making him bring a spare set).

Two general points: whatever you end up writing, please don’t kill off Miranda or imply she dies “off-screen.” Let her live to fuck Silver another day. Also, I love Flint/Miranda in all their angsty glory, and I love all the intense, complicated emotion of Flint & Silver and the potential of Flint/Silver. I know I said not to make the fic revolve around Flint’s influence on their lives, but I’m fine with Flint in a walk-on role, if you want to write that. I don’t see him making too big a fuss, Miranda definitely treats her brief affair with the pastor as her business and her business alone – I can see Flint being exasperated that Silver hanging around Miranda is now a thing, or suspicious of Silver’s intentions but also trusting Miranda to handle it.

Jack Irish

Simone Bendtsen/Jack Irish

I enjoyed this show a lot: how often and unexpectedly funny it was, how absorbing the mysteries were even when I didn’t buy every plot twist, how the canon treated complicated adult relationships as complicated and adult, how everyone wound up in a better place by the end than they’d been at the start but this didn’t always (or almost ever, really) mean a conventional HEA. I liked the intricate plots and all the Australian details of the setting, but I loved especially the character interactions and the ensemble cast, and these two reminded me of couples from old screwball comedies in how they played off each other.

Jack: dryly funny, tragic backstory but not overburdened with it, bit of a lone wolf but also with a lot of very different, good people in his life, sometimes his own worst enemy, not an alpha male at all and that’s just fine. And Simone, oh I loved Simone: smart, snarky, motor-mouthed, independent but also wanting to be taken care of a bit, somewhat socially awkward, hypercompetent, self-deprecating. I started shipping them right at the start (the “do you always talk this fast?” “do you always listen this slow?” exchange), loved how they keep needling and bantering easily, how during the time skip between seasons they become super close and rely on each other as both coworkers and friends. I have different degrees of tolerance for their canon relationships, so feel free to ignore or handwave those, and anyway: Jack knows Simone well enough to buy her a vintage Han Solo figurine in original packaging as a wedding present – and then promptly gets mistaken for her new husband!

Prompts:

-Casefic! Between Simone’s investigative skills and Jack’s willingness to get beaten up a lot and his sorta action skills, there’s nothing they can’t solve.

-Jack brings Simone along on a stakeout or a road-trip to run down money Harry’s owed. There’s banter. Lots of banter. And possibly falling asleep in the car.

-Simone gets to interact with Cam and Harry, or with the old codgers at Jack’s local. Whether she and Jack are together or not, everyone can see it.

-Show me them growing close during the time between seasons: how they went from him calling her always “Miss Bendtsen” and teasing her about her dating profile handle to her wanting him at her wedding.

-Canon divergence: Jack goes to Manila to investigate the Holman-Dang Bank and brings Simone along, or calls/Skypes her for snarky consultations and finally asks her to fly out and help him. Danger, thrills, bringing down an international crime syndicate, and possibly sex ensue. Bonus points if they work together with Marek/Orton, he of the dry wit and the extensive local knowledge. Or Jack and Simone take part in some handwavy local ritual and wake up married.

-Takeout and movie night. There is banter, of course. All the banter. And probably some whiskey too.

-Instead of the council forcing Jack to move his horse out of his yard, he enlists Simone in helping him smuggle the horse (to a paddock on Melbourne’s outskirts, or another temporary shelter as ill-suited as Jack’s yard had been) in the middle of the night. If one or both of them end up riding the horse, all the better.

-Their first time. Especially if it’s a little awkward, and a little funny, and maybe they had a few drinks to psyche themselves up, and maybe they’re still figuring out whether they’re better as friends or they have real potential as a couple – and it ends up being enjoyable despite their hang-ups and insecurities.

Starred Up

Oliver Baumer/Eric Love

I liked what the movie did with the father-son relationship and its influence on both men’s character development – but I really wish they hadn’t got Oliver out of the action before the story’s climax (not like that!). The final denouement with Love father and Love son was great, as was the hint at the end that Eric learned something in anger-management group and has a support network that will help him a lot, but I would have wanted to see more of the intriguing dynamic between Eric and Oliver - the intelligent, semi-feral, yet not-incorrigible, young thug and the educated, dedicated, kind yet aware of his own potential for violence, slightly older counselor. I would love to see Oliver return to holding his group in prison, so the two of them can interact more, either in the movie’s immediate aftermath or years down the line (it was hinted that Eric will be serving a very long sentence).

Prompts:

-More scenes from anger management or the free-flowing conversations in group, either with the other men present (because I loved their group dynamics, their training in anger management techniques, and their ribald, un-PC, yet constructive talk) or in a one-on-one session between Oliver and Eric.

-An oblique or open-but-undramatic admission of love/investment/affection/desire, or just a declaration that they both know there’s something there but they probably don’t want to name it, get into the details, and it’s too frustrating given their circumstances, but they both know and accept it’s there - well, I would love that.

-Dirty talk: used for arousal, as a defense mechanism, as a form of flirtation. Eric using slurs to assert dominance, and Oliver not letting him hide behind foul language, when he can use other kinds of colorful language to express actual emotion and sexual interest. There could definitely be some verbal taunting/flirting about who wants/is eager to do what or is good at doing something. There may be some sniping comments about logistics and (lack of) condoms and barebacking and what men get up to in prison. There probably wouldn’t be deep discussions about sexual identity.

-An emergency in the prison requires a lock-down, so Oliver gets temporarily stuck in Eric’s cell or another room with only Eric for company. Sex ensues. It could be a few months after the movie, or it could be after Eric has had some time to become a fully mature adult. Eric might seem like the logical initiator and/or dominant partner, but then Oliver might (or might not!) surprise him and is definitely the one more in touch with himself.

-Eric is eventually (handwave it so he gets early parole or make it happen years and years down the line) released and crashes with Oliver while he adjusts to the outside world, and there’s awkwardness, probably some male chest-thumping, and eventually fucking. The sex could be pretty rough or go-for-it-no-frills, yet enthusiastic and eager and unexpectedly tender (even if either or both don’t want to admit it).

-A progression/escalation of sexual contact over a series of encounters, possibly starting with just words or masturbation (of oneself or the other or mutual) or some other form of arousal, to blowjobs and who already knows how to give them and who expects them as a given and who learns how to give them, and ending in full-on screwing. Or any one of these individual moments, really!

-At some point, probably not their first time but when they’re used to each other and have a chance to take their time and have real privacy, Oliver ignores Eric’s come-on-already and goes super slow, to make Eric fall apart with pleasure *and* have an actual emotional reaction to sexual intimacy, which he wouldn’t be able to brush off as just of the moment.

LIKES:

I love pre-canon, canon, post-canon, canon-divergent, and “missing scene from canon” stories. I love character-driven and plot-driven stories equally, and I love fics which mix humor and angst/serious business when appropriate for the canon.

I love irony, snark, 5+1 stories, long fic and short fic, bittersweet endings, hopeful endings, happy endings, unhappy-but-stoic (in terms of where the characters end up) endings, ambiguous or and-the-adventure-continues endings, canon-fitting humor, characters who are their own worst enemies as well as those who learn to get over themselves, characters with conflicting values which may or may not be reconciled/resolved in a believable and IC way, characters who treat each other with respect and as equals even if they hate/annoy/can’t stand/love to dislike each other.

I love workplace stories (this can mean anything from an office/procedural setting to anything that revolves around the canon world in which the characters live) in which the characters are competent and dedicated to the job, and while they may not be exactly friends and they may well irritate one another, they still manage to rub along to get the job done and maybe even grow to care about one another (much to their surprise and sometimes reluctance/discomfort). For friendship and family dynamics, I love to see how the many layers long relationships of this kind can play out: the recrimination, the regrets, the humor, the love.

In terms of ship dynamics, I love (where it fits the characters) banter, competitiveness or antagonism or a degree of distrust shading into attraction (this tension need not be resolved), bickering yet loving couples, faithfulness, characters who are serious about their romantic interests, characters who think they are much better at flirtation than they actually are, characters forced to work together only to prove much more compatible than they initially assumed, fics which mix an exploration of characters’ professional and everyday lives with shipping.

I don’t have any very specific likes for smut, other than smut fitting the characters – show me how their canon dynamics spill over into the bedroom (or other place of congress). Let me hear their canon voices during the sex, either in POV narration or in dialogue.

Oral, vaginal, anal, manual (ifyouknowwhatImean) – it’s all good, go as veiled or as explicit as you like. Things which are all great: kissing, foreplay, seduction, a bit of sexual teasing, daring each other to go further, asking one’s partner to verbalize their desires.

I like sexual scenarios that subvert expectations a little and surprise the characters themselves (e.g., the person who’s usually quiet or more passive taking charge, the more aggressive person goes with it possibly snarking or commenting on it as long as they can). I also like sexual scenarios that contain an element of competition, antagonism, people having to overcome their own inhibitions or insecurity by just bulling through to where they can let themselves enjoy it, oh-god-this-is-a-bad-idea-but-we’re-going-for-it, I-hate-that-I-want-you-oooh-don’t-stop. Not wanting to admit feelings or show vulnerability except oops it happens anyway, whether the characters acknowledge it or not, or just people getting way more into it or being more affected by it than they thought they would. Also situations in which people have been acting competitive or fine-fine-shut-up-already and then jump into the sex with great enthusiasm even if still snarking. Also situations in which people who’ve wanted each other for a long time but couldn’t admit or act on it for reasons – and maybe weren’t sure or wouldn’t let themselves believe the desire was mutual – finally get a chance to do it, and it’s intense and emotional.

DNWs:

Hard kinks, MPREG, A/B/O, knotting, D/s, incest, genderswap and genderbent characters, ace/aro/trans/non-binary headcanons, non-con and dub-con, torture and abuse, dwelling on bodily fluids (mentions of gore and come are fine, but no loving detail please), vore, underage, toilet humor, character bashing, soulmates and soul marks, major character death (unless it’s canon – Miranda dying is the exception, in fic she lives!), pregnancy and children as the lynchpin of the story, characters agonizing over/analyzing/dwelling on their or others’ sexuality as if it’s the sum total of their existence, secondary characters acting like shipping the main pair is their be all and end all, teeth-rotting fluff and schmoop, issuefic, fic written in the first or second person, holiday setting or theme, fics which revolve around weddings and birthdays, AUs which have nothing to do with canon (cop characters working in a coffee shop, high-school janitor characters in space, etc.)

#chocolate box fic exchange #dear author letter #chocolate box 2018

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andranikolayi · 7 years

Text

Sonic Protest 2016 Part I

for The Attic Magazine

Prologue - Un temps tendu

''The atmosphere is quite heavy right now''; those were the first words my friend said to me, coming to pick me up from Nationale. Initially, I thought she was referring to her, as she recently moved in with her boyfriend, then she went on ''...you know, with the riots and everything''. I left Paris on November 16th, the Monday right after the shootings. I had been living there for over 5 years. This was my longest trip back to the city after the recent tragedy. It's strange how the events have permanently changed the city; in a way, you can't think of Paris anymore without terrorism in mind, just like you can't picture New York City without 9/11 anymore. I still recall the day right after the attacks - the panic and confusion that ensued. I was alone in my friend's studio and she told me that the people on the news advised everyone to stay indoors. I started to get claustrophobic towards the evening and decided to venture outside for some food. To my surprise, things seemed strikingly normal - people were chatting outside the cafes, taking the metro, going to the supermarket. Life went on. Six months later, it felt like the city was back to its usual pace and the November 13th tragedy was some distant memory. Only, unlike the Charlie Hebdo shootings the previous year that after many weeks of seeing the support message Je suis Charlie in literally every newspaper, bar or Facebook page, things were still tense. Place de la Republique remains the Gordian knot of an intricate conflict web that the authorities still can't seem to be able to contain. It's a big open space that could fill up quite quickly, located in the middle of several tiny streets. Republique has become that spot that illustrates the social clash between people who come to protest, skaters, and youngsters from the banlieue coming over from Bastille for a night out, yuppies from Le Marais, cops and homeless people. I remember the Sunday after the attacks; I took the metro to Republique. As the train stopped, there were people running into the train scared and crying, shouting not to get out. On a random night back in March, one of the exits was blocked and there were ambulances and police cars outside. And now, the riots. When I first moved to Paris, back in September 2010, the friend who hosted me suggested I should go to a manif. She described it like this somewhat entertaining activity, where the streets get blocked and people march drinking, singing and chanting slogans. And, of course, a typically French custom, that would help me understand the culture better. At the time, they were protesting against the new retirement age. And yes, it did feel like a big street party. But now riots have changed; there is tear gas and an alarming amount of police violence. I heard rumors about the things going on at Republique, how people started a sort of occupy movement and have taken over the place. My festival-related trips didn't bring me near the area until this particular Sunday, April 9th, when I was stuck in the metro with the doors closed for about 15 minutes for a security clearance at Republique. A big protest was scheduled that night, roads blocked, bus and traffic deviated. Having missed the last train, I got out on the square in search of a night bus, not really knowing what to expect. As I emerged from to the over ground, it felt like I was transported in a sort of Mad Max inspired reality, with slogans, street musicians, street vendors and even an urban garden improvised out of plastic bottles. They have been protesting for days against the new labor law, which would erase some essential advantages of the Front Populaire and their radical reform in 1936, making the 40-hour work week no longer compulsory. It was a tense time indeed.

Instant Chavires' Day Out

For me, springtime in Paris was spread around the three major underground and experimental music festivals that accompanied the changing of the seasons: Presences électronique in March, Sonic Protest in April and Villette Sonique in May. Attending these events or simply looking at the line-ups and making plans were a yearly rite of passage, fully part of my daily life. It was just like a series of solstice rituals, which happened organically. This year was the first time the festival was not just something in my life, but an event I built my calendar around. Going to Paris specifically for the festival operated a shift in my perspective, making the entire trip an event. Given the whole social context this year, the festival started to gain a series of new political connotations. Or, I was perhaps starting to decipher new metaphors within the music. Even the name, Sonic Protest, felt like a sort of slogan. Within the so-called 'experimental spring' of Parisian festivals, Sonic Protest is probably the most dashingly diverse. Framed by Presences électronique, GRM 's showcase of electro acoustic, experimental and modern composition, and Vilette Sonique, on the more pop side of the underground spectrum, Sonic Protest is a very unique endeavor both in terms of programming and funding. The festival has been around for 13 years, with Arnaud Rivière and Francq de Quengo as programmers. For the connoisseurs, Arnaud Rivière is also the guy behind the cult venue Les Instants Chavirés in Montreuil, a DIY space for experimental music that has been around for over 20 years. Although Instants Chavirés is partially funded by the Mairie de Montreuil, Sonic Protest is mostly a self-financed affair. The diverse programming at Les Instants (internationally, Cafe Oto in London and OCCII in Amsterdam could be considered kindred spirits) blending noise, ambient, free jazz, no wave, weird folk and experimental techno among its genres (last year Les Instants saw Black Zone Myth Chant, a High Wolf psychedelic side project and LIES artist Lowjack play the same bill, for example).

This sort of hunger for new and exciting music is at the core of the festival. However, unlike Les Instants, which can feel pretty packed if there are 100 people inside, Sonic Protest has the luxury of playing with bigger venues. It almost feels like Sonic Protest is Instants' field day - get out the big guns and let's have some fun! The festival stretched out for two weeks this year, with the main series of 8 concerts in Paris, followed by events in other cities in France and Belgium. A sound art exhibition and a series of film screenings and conferences were also part of the program. I could only attend 4 shows this year, but they were the most impressive, core events of this noisy shindig.

Modern Elegies

I arrived in Paris Wednesday morning, after a sleepless night and a 6 am flight to Beauvais Tille, also known as the bus stop airport. Porte Maillot, with its shuttles and cheap bus rides, brimming with immigrants and Asian backpackers was a much too painful déjà-vu. Only this time I wasn't headed to my 5th floor walk up with a terrace in Clichy, but to and a couple of nights on an air mattress in my friend's new apartment, still filled with moving boxes and lingering paint smell. Getting accustomed to the 10-degree temperature drop from Bucharest, all I could think about was sleep. As I rushed towards the already familiar sight of L'Église Saint Merry, this catholic church by the Kandisnky fountain, right near IRCAM and Centre Pompidou, I was already back into my grumpy Paris self, cursing the crowds at Les Halles and sporting a permanent frown. Last time I was there back on a cold night in September, when John Butcher did a solo and Eliane Radigue presented one of her new acoustic, orchestra pieces. There are three things you need to know about this church - it's extremely cold, the chairs are notoriously uncomfortable and the sound is always challenging because of its architecture. For the first time, I felt like Saint Merry found the perfect performance for the space in Ellen Fullman's Long String Instrument. I first saw a movie of this piece in a show at Le Plateau and I remember being greatly impressed by the physicality of the instrument. Now, it was a question of scale - stepping into the empty space, with only a couple of people from the festival staff shuffling around preparing for the big night, the sight of this 30 meter long catwalk surrounded by strings that took over the entire nave was quite breathtaking. The entire installation was wrapped in traffic tape, an extra security measure for this robust yet delicate instrument. The resonating strings were held together by 15 large 35kg sand bags on each side.

A fragile silhouette, not much taller than 1.60m, dressed in a nondescript black windbreaker and sneakers, was walking among the strings, making final adjustments. Composer Ellen Fullman was a particularly discreet presence, with her short white hair, tiny glasses and a gaze suggesting perpetual curiosity. Part of the wave of great minimalists, influenced by Alvin Lucier and Harry Partch, she is a lesser-known figure among the average contemporary classic music fan. Just like Eliane Radigue in France, her incredibly innovative work has been marginalized until the last decade. This was to be her first performance in France and it was no surprise that Eliane Radigue, the other great lady of deep drones, was there to support her. The two together, chatting, made for an endearing sight and an important page in the history of modern music. Later, at the communal table, I somehow ended up at the same end of the table as them; it was surprising how everyone from the staff was just going on about their dinner, while the two ladies were wrapped up in their own private bubble, sharing ideas about each other's work. The one thing that caught my ear was Ellen asking Eliane about her notation system, to which she replied that she didn't have one and had to explain to each performer how to play her pieces. Returning to the church, I could see all the intricate series of numbers scattered across the wooden walkway, from sheets that looked like scores to numbers marked near the resonating wood boxes or the stones that were weighing down metallic clips onto the strings. I didn't know if I was looking at a Carl Andre/ Daniel Buren hybrid piece of sculpture or at a gigantic, gutted prepared piano.

Soon, the spots behind the seats and those between the rows started to fill; some younger kids were even sitting on the freezing church floor in front of the chairs. We were gearing up for a sold out evening, which, given Saint Merry's capacity, meant around 600 people. Then, the large stage lights went on; the tape was cut. The audience was growing restless in anticipation. Ellen took to the stage and started gently tapping on the strings at the left end. The beginning was very low and subtle, certainly not enough to drown her out. My angry glaring certainly didn't help. Then, something changed. The whispering stopped. Everything pretty much stopped, for that matter, as Ellen's piece was slowly growing bigger and more resonant. Even the photographer stopped taking photos, as if embarrassed by the sound of his camera disturbing the silence of the piece. It was as if the entire audience was swept by this large wave of emotion, drowning everything in its way. The metallic drones grew deeper and deeper as Ellen was walking across the platform, as if in a trance, like a shaman trying to control the fire of her vision. It sure was a strong beast to tame, this grandiose, unusual instrument.

If in the first couple of minutes people were still holding out their phones, documenting this strange sight, they quickly started to let go and patiently listen to the slow progression of the music. I don't think I ever heard the church audience as quiet as that night. There was a sort of collective concentration, a group focus that felt almost electric. The drones started getting deeper and deeper, evoking dark visions that were slowly growing darker. I didn't even dare look at Ellen, although her small but stern fingers kept moving across the strings, barely 20 cm away from me at times. She was looking down, carefully following her notes. The atmosphere started to get darker; you could sense the thick layer of emotions she conjured. Everyone around me was frozen, possessed. About five seats down from me on the opposite row there was this blonde woman, ducking between the passageways left between the seats. She was on her knees, looking up at Ellen, fist clenched under her chin. Her eyes were wide and moist and mouth vaguely agape. The composer kept her slow pacing up and down the catwalk and this lady's stare was following her every move. The next time I looked at her, I could see the black smudging of her eyeliner giving her a hazy look. As the piece progressed, I was more and more fascinated by this woman, whose mascara started dripping by now. It's as if she was expressing a sort of ancestral suffering awakened by the music, in a sort of Madonna pose bearing all of our pain. Maybe she has just recently broke up with her boyfriend or was going to some other very personal drama; either way, the music sure struck a chord with her and there she was, full-on crying for all of us dry of tears. It was such a touching portrayal of this large, sad, beautiful music. By the end of the first piece, I must have seen at least three people barely holding back their tears. Then, the music stopped. It took about 45 seconds for the last chords to finish resonating before the church broke into a frenetic applause. It was a cathartic moment, as if a heavy lead blanket had been suddenly lifted. I believe that if she kept going for even a few more minutes, we might have all ended up weeping.

Visibility uncomfortable by the overly enthused round of applause, Ellen muttered a quick 'Thank you' and rushed to the middle of the walkway to turn on a motor for her next piece. This was a much shorter and lighter effort, the constant movement on the string giving it an almost jolly undertone. Again, an explosion of applause and ''Bravos!''s followed. I think the composer was slightly startled by this utterly warm welcome and slightly annoyed for having her set interrupted. She then placed herself at the left end of the catwalk, where the resonating boxes and loose ends of the strings were. She started rapidly pulling on them, building up an alert pace of higher tonalities. At first it looked like some kitten playing with the extra string hanging from the knitting basket and we weren’t even sure if she was playing or simply started undoing the installation. This roughly 5 minute piece has the much needed playfulness after the first long meditation. It almost felt like a hopeful glimmer of light that would help us get out of the dark world she has previously ushered us into. Things moved quite quickly after that – the staff started moving the chairs, uncovering the sand underbelly holding together the whole apparatus. The transition was probably a little too abrupt but they were already behind schedule and there was no time to lose. I felt like even if that was the only thing I got to hear during the festival, I would go home happy. As I went outside for some air, I almost couldn't fathom coming back and listening to more music. Ellen's piece was just that overwhelming. Even if you didn't enjoy it, it still had quite the impact. The whole experience was quite humbling.

I heard the sound engineer talk to some other guy afterwards describing it as ''heavy''. At the same time, especially after that first taste of returning to Paris and all the turbulence that ensued, it felt like the most appropriate thing one could listen to in those messy times; something that played on our fears and pain, exposing it into the music. Ellen's elegy had strangely specific undertones in her universality.

End of the nave

Going back inside, I arrived in the midst of the usual Saint Merry concert sight: people gathered around the bar side, talking quite loudly, a couple of curious spectators by the improvised record store booth and a few dozens of people standing, crowding in front of the altar stage. On stage, a guy in mid-thirties, with a small beard and fisherman's beanie was playing medieval-inspired laments on a violin drenched in electronics. He looked like the wandering bard you would read about in fairy tales. Yet his approach was somewhat oblique, wearing his pop and chanson heritage on his sleeve. While most of the songs were slightly upbeat and even had dance potential, there was something utterly sad in the air. I knew my mind was still tangled up in Ellen's strings and for some reason couldn't commit to the young bard's tales. Even though they felt like songs from a dead king's banquet, there was a celebratory element that felt slightly inappropriate. Given another context, I would have probably been more inclined to delve into Sourdure's pagan folk. It was probably just my overall tiredness or the length of his set, but the evening was just a little too dense. There was a moment when he paused, put down his violin and started addressing the audience; he told us that in medieval times, there was this custom of people from the village to go from house to house asking for food, while singing songs. Then he shared an acapella version of one of those songs. In the dimly lit church, I felt transported into a caravaggesque time where everything happened in dark little room by candlelight. It seemed like he conjured the entire magic of his set in this stripped-down 3-minute song. Basinski's set took me by surprise. This was the moment we've all been waiting for: hearing the new piece by the tape drone master made for a highly anticipated set.

I managed to shimmy my way up front, to feel those loops right in my guts by the subwoofer. The feeling was quite intense, giving the enveloping effect I was hoping for. Only the cold marble of the church didn't make for a very comfortable listening spot. Some kids around me were sitting with their eyes closed, in a semi-conscious state, caught up in William's daydream. As I rose from my nosebleed seat, the sound started quickly diminishing, losing most of its low-frequency intensity. Instead, you could hear this dark ambient music reflecting on the tall church walls. It seemed that the crowd around the stage grew even bigger. Some people pulled up chairs to the side and were listening patiently. The music felt like a soundtrack for all these strange audience members, elongating their necks trying to catch a glimpse of Basinski or standing on chairs in order to take a good photo. And he was just slowly moving into the blue light, wrapped up in his sequin jacket, sporting an absent smile. It reflected the light beautifully; for a moment I even thought his jacket was actually made out of LED lights. I spent the end of his set towards the very end of the nave, hearing all the resonant frequencies break onto the walls. His piece had the classic beauty of his previous work, the same drawn-out elegant sadness, yet somehow I couldn't fully enjoy it. Maybe it was because all of the hype created; I'm sure I wasn't the only 20-something who came to the festival especially to see him. They say it's not good to meet your mentors; in William's case, the live experience felt a bit underwhelming. Not that his music didn't make for a very touching experience, especially in the gorgeous space of Saint Merry, yet I felt like something was missing: his sadness was too overtly beautiful yet light, almost sporting a pop sheen. Maybe Basinski finally figured out how to emulate Eno's Music for Airports after all. Which was one of the things I loved about it in the first place – this baroque, aestheticized sense of suffering. However, it didn't hit me in the gut this time. Ellen's piece felt raw, almost brutal in comparison. The audience scattered quickly as the show ended, either running for the last metro or hoping for William's reappearance for a selfie or an autograph. While the engineers were packing up his setup, one tiny silhouette was contemplating the space, empty once again. It was Ellen Fullman, that somehow went unnoticed by the remaining groupies, still chasing after the glittered Basinski unicorn. I wanted to talk to her, but she seemed too deep in her own thoughts to be disturbed. This great tiny lady was surely brewing up another storm.

#sonic protest 2016 #festivals #reviews

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