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coldalbion · 3 months

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Dis/nomers: On misnomers, magic-metaphors, and life in general

So, here's the thing: a lot of societal and cultural metaphors around magic and occultism are in the so-called West, frankly, bad and a product of the imprecision in the English language about "power", which themselves are inherently modelled on industrial-capitalist frameworks thanks to the Industrial Revolution, and steam power. Think about what you mean when you use the word "power" or "intent" and ask yourself whether you are once again running on 19th Century (colonialist ideas: for example see non-Indigenous misconceptions of mana) that boil down to thinking you're a steam engine or some sort of closed system - because that's what the whole popular idea of energy comes from. Why? Because willpower doesn't really exist. Now something seems to be going on, when we do certain things. But are we hoodwinking ourselves - barking up the wrong tree, being led down the garden path -by the porting in pop-metaphor? Sure, it's easier, but is the apparent ease and clarity obscuring insights? Is it preventing us from taking our place as part of a living world; not clockwork and piston but inter-and-intra-relating, inter-and-intra-being in an 'animist' cosmovision? Consider the metaphors you use, and wonder how they're using you. Because they are - we are thinking-with-and-being-with the ongoing worlding of a daimonic (agential) kosmos. And that All is doing the same-with-us. Remember, changing the metaphors we use can change the way we think, and how we are in the world. This is why I mutter about kenning, as found in Old Norse poetry, but also as a method of indirectly approaching experience by folding in the world. Kenning is, in one sense creating a poetic metaphor, a circomlocution that describes a thing without direct nominalisation. A wheelchair user can be a throne-walker; the sea is not just the sea, it is the whale-road and also Aegir's-cauldron, Poseidon's-stable, etc etc.

"It is no coincidence that a kenning is a poetic term of art, a doubling and metaphoric circumlocution of a singular noun or thing – the sea becoming the “whale-road”, a sword seen as the “icicle of red shields”. A singular referent now exceeds itself, drawing the relationality with the whole world of those present. This indirectness, far from detracting from the referent, deepens the knowing. Each portion of the kenning exceeds itself also, thusly thickening the field of the sword or sea, and, in enhancing its relationality, enlivens each further. Further, this means that the poet acknowledges the excess of the referents, comprehending that kenning may build on kenning, and the full, totalistic mapping of a referent is doomed to fail in terms of completion. This goes even beyond the usual aphorism from astronomer Carl Sagan: “If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.” For each element of the apple pie is capable of being defined by the relationality of all presences, in all forms, positions, and configurations in all possible and impossible universes – and each of these in turn relate to each other as they will. This then, is the joy and horror, the wonder and terror of an animate, fluxing kosmos – there is always more." - Goêtic Atavisms, Frater Acher & Craig 'VI' Slee (See link above: also available on Amazon as well as from the publisher if you need that)

Do we want to live in a world circumscribed by misnomers, grandfathered in with extractive and clunky ways of perceiving the world? Or do we want to embrace the dis/abling wyrd strangenesses of the numinous? The liberatory power of the dis/nomer - the radical proposition that there is always more than can be named, can be contained? That we might ken more if we embraced blurry, uncertain periphalisms which spiral endlessly inward and down into pandaemonic, living, breathing labyrinths? If we immersed ourselves in relational eddies, tides and gyres eternally returning-and-coming-forth-again - dis/membered and re-membered anew? To dive into currents and flows - the multiplicitous assemblage of influences which are the very bodyof the oceanic river which Herakleitos warned us that we could never enter in the same place twice? What might we notice is already happening, already ongoing, that we are amidst, then? Might we spot the plurality of Minotaurs engaging in their diasporic fugitivity, nomads in their myriad labyrinths, far older, wiser, and weirder than we thought we knew? Spaces of monstrously numinous sanctuary, far beyond the ken of the Theseus (their supposed slayer) and his identitarian regime of denial, his heroic ever-intact status quo. Pity the ship-builders in their labour; they work do so under the threat of sword - or is it gun and bomb, these days? But while Theseus abandons Ariadne, Dionysos does not! And while Theseus eschews the sea route to perform his labours in order to gain heroic glory and satisfy ambition, his oceanic ancestry has the last laugh - both mortal father Aegeus (thrown into the sea that bears his name) and he (thrown off an island cliff - presumably into the ocean) were reclaimed; seized by the sea and its thundering white horses. What might it be, to be oceanically possesed as that hero's mother was? To have one's soul-sea stirred by the Earthshaker? We can but dream on the matter - while also slyly noting that Athenians kept the Ship of Theseus preserved, as mark of divine heritage in their feted city ruled by the demos. What matters now, in these days when even politicians talk of the so-called "will of the people", is matters of ancestry and history dismissed; lineages of language and its many influences ignored - no entanglements here, vine or otherwise, we assure you! But thankfully, the ship-builders know the way of wood and net and weave. They know how many planks pass through their hands, how many nails struck, how much pitch is brewed. They know there's more. They're craftsfolk after all - assemblages are their business, whatever the material - they know what mattering is. And isn't it interesting that the Temple of Hephaistos in Athens was once mistakenly called the Thesseion - The Temple of Theseus, before the moderns realised their mistake? Watch the words we use, and how they use us. Be seeing you.

#goetic atavisms #magick #occult

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seafoamreadings · 11 months

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week of june 18th, 2023

aries: did you know venus is preparing to go retrograde in your romantic and creative 5th house? she enters the shadow phase of that cycle this week. as early as possible this week, take care of any romantic/aesthetic tasks that you don't want to backfire later on.

taurus: if it can be helped don't purchase a home, sign a lease, or renovate starting from this week into october/november. but if you *have* to do it, do it *asap* because your ruling planet venus goes into the shadow of her retrograde this week in leo. meanwhile a lot of squares cause chafing in some way but all is actually auspicious to you; you need squares to grow and growing is seldom comfortable.

gemini: it's lucky you're such a fluid and light creature because this week's mutability will have many feeling that they are backtracking. this may include you especially, but you will at least always know, if only subconsciously, that sometimes a little detour saves you time even if it covers more physical distance.

cancerians: the start of You season comes in with the solstice. it probably has you feeling lucky and glowy, which is great! on the other hand some venusian activity can have you, soon, dealing with financial struggles, so have all that in order asap before she retrogrades in leo.

leo: solstice time is probably always a mystical wyrd time for you, solar one. and this year's upcoming venus retrograde in your sign adds a distinctly romantic tone to it all. enjoy it but try not to get swept up in the drama too much.

virgo: ceres trines pluto and pops back into libra from your sign for the second time this year, thanks to her recent retrograde. this interaction with pluto is, technically, good, but nothing involving pluto is ever truly easy. whatever difficulties you are overcoming, let it be to build your character, not to crush you into conformity with what you were taught by society or even by your own mother.

libra: this week, let your focus be nourishment. first for your body, then for your public situation, whatever it may be. your legacy. your social media profiles if you use them. or maybe you realize now that it is time to shut them down for a bit?

scorpio: the advent of cancer season and the solstice *are* good for you, but they are *full* of heightened emotion. not that you can't handle that, but it isn't going to be beneficial in any lazy sort of way. get ready to be up and moving. plutonic activity likewise is broadly auspicious and yet requires removing dead weight.

sagittarius: there aren't many things that put you into introvert mode but venus retrograde in leo can definitely do that. she doesn't go retrograde this week, not for a few weeks, but she does enter the shadow phase of that cycle, so prepare yourself for any long-distance flings from the past to arrive looking for you.

capricorn: the solstice and the start of cancer season signal a relationship-focused period for you and if you can't stomach the thought of changes in your love life, you can try to channel this into a business partnership or something like that. but cancer loves love, so, you know, be ready.

aquarius: i'm sure you're not one to panic about retrogrades and that's a wonderful thing. at the same time, it will be helpful to prepare for the layers of synchronicity to be brought about by venus in your house of relationships. she has been there a while but now enters the shadow "zone" of her retrograde, coming up to encompass all the rest of the summer and into the autumn (in northern seasons, anyway.)

pisces: brace yourself for a fairly hard week. it's not likely to be earth-shattering things, nothing that will ruin your life, but the struggle is real and may at some points feel like the end of the world. the magic of your sign is you survive worlds ending, you bring new worlds into existence, and each one is better than the last.

#horoscopes #weekly horoscope #astrology #transits #horoscope #weekly horoscopes #signs #zodiac #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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rheaisadog · 18 days

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Even in this, a kind of "6/10 animation-wise" movie, Pratchett's scenes just pop into focus so easily. The voice work is great too. Basically watch these if you haven't give em a proper chance.

#discworld #gnu terry pratchett

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scribe-of-stories · 10 months

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Hi, I'm Scribe

(Art by Kollapsar)

About: As per the title you can call me Scribe; I also go by JL and or Knight (see Avatar) They/Them. I am a ex-professional Psychologist, I pretend to know things about Philosophy, and I have been known to write things that take place in my own silly little world. Also a TTRPG hobbyist that dreams about making my own one day. I mainly write modern fantasy with horror elements from a first person perspective. Things tend to get existential and there is often not a difference between reality and metaphor. Also there is no shortage of queer folk with super powers or deep occult knowledge in my stories. Currently most of my work is in the form of short stories and flash fiction, with a novel/serial in the works here or there.

Intent: What an ominous section title. Honestly I'm here to make friends in the writing community. I want to read other people's works and I want others to read my work. I want to encourage and be encouraged. I want to see the little notification number pop up on my screen and give my brain the good chemicals. Take this as blanket consent to tag me in games, to send me asks, and to send me messages. Tell me about your OCs and I'll gladly talk your ear off about world building. I also intend on getting published one day. It would be lovely to meet others going through the process.

Lexical Earth: Is the setting of most if not all of my writing. It's a modern fantasy setting who's hidden magic side was forcefully revealed during the year 2000, when the First Wave of Inscribed started showing up. Now governments are struggling to retain control, Thought Entities are going public with their machinations and hunger, and there is no small population of super heroes and villains trying to impose their views on reality. The magic system of this setting is generally soft with harder rules the closer one is to the material world. The Realm of Spirit is swirling occult bullshit, but it takes someone with actual knowledge to pull it down into reality. Experiment with Jungian masks, personas, and shadows; see the connective tissue of stories stretch across cultures; and walk those paths. Alternatively write words on your Soul and bend reality to the whims of your Inscription.

Directory: Bellow is a collection of the works I have posted and a short description of which each is about. Let me know if you would wish to be added to a general Lexical Earth tag list or if there is a specific series/protagonist you'd want to be tagged for.

(Under construction, there are a few works buried deep in my blog that I need to go excavate)

Samuel Smith, the Smith of Masks: Private investigator, grumpy and sarcastic, and part of the pre-inscribed world of Lexical. He's paid to solve issues between the Wyrd and the human; and often gets too emotionally invested. 1 – PI just wants to read books between jobs but Wyrd stuff is happening. Technically the first Lexical short I ever wrote. 2 – Sequel to the previous short. PI has a bad time working on this case, ends up having to sell part of his soul. 3 – Stand alone story. PI forgets what he's doing several times before solving a serial killer problem. Marian Wheeler would be proud.

Ken “Host of Fangs”, Lord of Hearts: Telepathic Inscribed that makes a hivemind with animals as his main power. He has substantial family and old life trauma and a masc., non-binary, partner who's soul is shaped like a jellyfish. 1 – Date gets interrupted by old woman/man Humanity handing out super powers. 2 – Ken gets a letter from his Ex and has big feelings about it.

Wander/er, Wanderer of Spirit: First Wave Inscribed that noped out of reality and went deep into the Realm of Spirit to learn about the Wyrd side of things. Generally an important person who shows up around big events, but more an advisor than a hero. 1 – Wanderer and a Thought Entity friend travel a bit too far away from earth. Careful not to wake Slumbering Kings.

Lexical Lore: For the World building and TTRPG side of Lexical. 1 – Inscribed, how do they work? How do you become one? Would they make a good RPG player character? All answered here. Go and make your own Inscribed and @ me with the results.

Lexical One-Offs: for stories that don't have a named protagonist or just aren't part of a series. Bedroom – Someone wakes up and gets ready for work. The Recursive Tree – The life cycle of one or more Thought Entities as seen from the perspective of a Soldier.

#writeblr #lexical earth #Scribe of Stories #Knight of Hearts #writeblr intro #writers on tumblr #It is done #It is rewriten #Perhaps now I can sleep #Dream of the waking world oh spirit of mine #Show me a reality I want to live in #and sleep oh waking world so that I might see it

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wizzycore · 10 months

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Nonhuman Showdown Round 1

Why you should vote for each of them and full art below!

Tatiana Starwalker (species: wooden construct, by @tatiana-starwalker art by @kimberly-earthfriend)

"They're hubristic, have funky-fresh fashion, paint their face on every morning, they take themselves apart for pranks or to win fights, this little guy is everything to me. They're built as a monument to grief and then got sent away by the very person that made them due to the fact that Starwalker cannot meet the expectations of being who the original was in life. They are so defined by their connections to others despite not having humanity, being so caught up in the Being of personhood that they simply Are. Also Starwalker is very pretty :>"

Quinn Soulthorn (species: dryad, by @sentient-cloud)

"Quinn Soulthorn, a dryad of one of those spooky death trees that seem to be everywhere. He grew up in Avalon’s Wyrd over the corpse of one an unlucky member of the wild hunt, the spine of which makes up his harp, along with his own wood. He’s delighted to be allowed into Ravenwood and learn about the world outside of the Wyrd, even if he’s still really learning how people work. He’s not beating the unseelie allegations.

People tend to find him off putting. He’s far too eager to tell people about the beauty and inevitability of death, and he brings a kind of “stop raising so much undead you’re disturbing the role decomposition plays in the perpetual cycle of existence” vibe the other necromancers don’t like. Merle is especially wary of him, after all, was the Wyrd not the source of the horned crown that damned Avalon and introduced his pupil to Shadow magic in the first place?

He’s doing his best, he isn’t as oblivious to people’s hesitancy towards him as some may think. Additional fun facts: his pet “ghulture” is an undead Avalon crow that hung around the spooky death tm graveyard he popped up in. Whenever he takes root he leaves behind a mushroom circle. He even has trans swag. TtM (tree to male)"

#w101 #nonhuman showdown

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snelbz · 1 year

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The Holiday {2}

Ships: Nesta x Cassian / Aelin x Rowan

Written alongside @theladyofdeath.

Trope(s): Christmas, fluff, love at first sight, enemies to lovers

Summary: Nesta has just been dumped. Aelin hates her job. Both women need an escape from reality and with Christmas quickly approaching, it's the perfect time for a getaway. After discovering a trend where people can swap houses for a non-traditional vacation experience, these two women decide to spend the holidays in each other's homes. With their houses comes a series of unique experiences and a couple of handsome suitors. It's time to see just how much a change of scenery and two weeks of Christmas solitude and romance can change a person.

A/N: It's December, which means the holiday season has officially begun! This one has been a blast to write, we never write such fluffy stuff. We hope y'all are enjoying it, too!

Rating: M for mature - language, smut, substance use, etc. 18+.

Inspired by The Holiday (2006).

The hour-long Uber ride was not what Aelin was expecting when she got off the plane at nearly ten o’clock at night, but it was sure as hell what she got. Her driver, a blessedly quiet man named Ilias, asked her what kind of music she liked, found a Pandora station dedicated to it, and they were off. After traveling all day, she knew there was no reason to be as exhausted as she was, but keeping her eyes open was proving to be a challenge as he left Orynth proper and drove up into the mountains.

Thankfully, just as she thought she would really doze off, the car came to a stop. A blast of cold hit her as he got out and popped open the back hatch.

It was frigid in Orynth, a different kind of cold than she was used to in Velaris.

After unloading her suitcase and ensuring she had both her purse and backpack, Ilias bade her farewell, backed out of the drive and headed down the long, single-lane road that curved along the mountain. They’d passed another cabin coming up and she knew more were likely farther up, but all she could focus on was the one before her.

Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she checked the screenshot of the information Nesta had sent her. She’d warned there could be spotty cell service the farther into the mountains you went and she hadn’t been wrong. Thanks to the wifi password she’d already memorized, she knew she wouldn’t be without TikTok or Facebook for long.

After locating the key under a bucket in the front porch, Aelin unlocked the door and walked in.

Only to immediately shiver.

“By the Wyrd, how is it colder in here than it is out there?” Aelin murmured, snagging her bags from the porch and pulling them in. She closed the door, walking deeper into the cottage.

“Cozy mountain cottage, my ass,” she muttered, walking around the living room, looking for the small pad on the wall to control the central heating.

After searching for nearly two minutes, she still hadn’t found it.

The cottage wasn’t big by any means. It was certainly cute and meant to be homey, if only there was warmth of some kind. She had no idea how this woman hadn’t turned into a popsicle or died of hypothermia.

There was a main room, which held a tv, a little sitting bench by a massive window, and walls lined with bookshelves. Reading — it was an apparent hobby that Aelin shared with Nesta. She made a mental note to check out the shelves of books as soon as she wasn’t freezing her ass off.

Luckily, all the lamps she tried worked beautifully, lighting up the small space. There was a short hallway off of the kitchen where the bedroom and bathroom were. After tossing her bags on the neatly made bed full of blankets and pillows, Aelin made her way back into the living room. The space was far too cold for the heat to only have been turned off when Nesta left, which meant that there was no heat in this place at all.

Who the hell survived in the mountains with no central heat?

Aelin felt very strongly that such a fact should have been on the vacation listing.

With a frustrated, exhausted sigh, Aelin turned to face the fireplace. There were no logs in the fireplace which meant that she’d have to make her way outside in the snowy darkness to try and find some. Being almost midnight, it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She wanted to sleep.

Maybe have a snack.

She wanted warmth.

Gods, she was freezing.

After turning on the flashlight on her phone, Aelin threw open the front door.

And screamed.

A giant figure stood at the threshold, his fist raised to knock. He didn’t look startled in the slightest as Aelin cursed, her heart racing. Instead, he simply raised a brow, his green eyes scanning Aelin’s face. He was covered in layers, all of them black or dark green. Snow dusted the coat on his shoulders and his knit beanie, which stopped just above his thick brows.

“What the hell?” Aelin yelled, one hand bracing the door to keep herself steady. “It’s the middle of the night! Who the hell are you?”

Once again, he was not phased by Aelin’s outburst. Instead he tossed a thumb over his shoulder. “I brought wood.”

Aelin blinked as she scoffed. “You brought wood? At midnight? You brought wood at midnight? Is that when this woman usually gets her wood? At midnight?”

The euphemism wasn’t lost on Aelin but she didn’t say anything about it. Thankfully, neither did he.

The fist he would have used to knock with slowly fell back to his side. He shoved those hands into his pockets. “No, usually I’m here promptly at ten every couple of days, which is when I would have been here tomorrow…which is also when I thought you’d be getting here, not today. I was on my way home when I saw the lights on and knew I’d gotten the day wrong. Thought you might be cold.”

She was. Gods, she was. “I’m fine.”

She swore she saw his lips quirk as he looked over her shoulder at the dull, empty fireplace. “I’m guessing Nesta didn’t mention that you’d have to heat the place yourself.”

“Look,” Aelin began, taking a deep breath as her fingers tightened on the door. “I’m tired. I’m grumpy. A little hangry, even. All I want to do is climb into bed, close my eyes, and hopefully wake up in the morning to not regret this decision I’ve made. So, if you would, get the hell off my property so I can make that happen.”

“It’s not your property, but I admire your conviction,” he said, and Aelin hated how he wasn’t even the slightest bit phased by her. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, unpack your shit, and I’ll start a fire for you?”

Aelin nearly gaped. “You want me to let you, a man that could be a murderer for all I know, in here? Who shows up at midnight—”

“I’m trying to be helpful,” he interrupted, clearly getting frustrated. “If you prefer to chop your own wood and light your own flame, that’s fine. I have places to be.” He turned his back to her and slowly descended the stairs, back to the snow covered path to his truck. “Nesta said she left a note letting you know how to reach me when you need wood. Call, I guess, if you don’t want to freeze to death. I’d hurry. It’s only getting colder tonight.”

By the time Aelin remembered how to speak, he was climbing into the cab of his truck, which was still running, and gunning the engine. Up the mountain he went and Aelin grumbled something about unpacking her shit and went to retrieve the bundle of wood he’d set down at the top of the staircase.

Closing the door, and locking it for emphasis, Aelin found the instructions Nesta had left for her, including a phone number for Rowan, who she could only assume was her new friend. She hastily lit the fireplace and wood burning stove in the back bedroom, and before she knew it, the cottage was nearly as cozy as it’d been in the listing.

She connected to the wifi and sent a text to Lysandra, letting her know she’d safely made it and settled in.

And then she checked her email.

There were nearly thirty emails and Aelin was almost positive twenty-five of them would be from Arrobyn. She had ignored his texts throughout the day, going so far as to send him to voicemail as she was boarding her flight to Orynth, something she’d never done. None of them were letting her know she’d been fired, so whatever Nox had done had appeased their boss, though he was already making demands for her to be at the office bright and early the day she was back in town.

With a groan, she turned her phone off and reminded herself she was here for a break. From Arrobyn, from life in Velaris, from everything.

There was a bottle of wine on the counter, near her note with Rowan’s phone number, with another note tied around the neck. It had another number on it, in the same feminine scrawl.

Give me a call if you need anything at all! Hope we both get the escapes we need.

Nesta

Although Rowan had pissed her off, Nesta seemed welcoming…even if Aelin had a slightly warmer idea of what welcoming meant. Nonetheless, Aelin hoped they both got their escapes, too. In the morning, she would make sure that she got her relaxing vacation. She wouldn’t accept any other fate.

Just after one, Aelin poured herself a small glass of wine and snuggled up on the couch in front of the fireplace. She had only drunk half of it before she fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

<.>.<.>.<.>

Since arriving the night before, Nesta was scared to touch anything.

Aelin’s townhouse was immaculate. Everything was sleek and modern, and fell into the white, gray, calming blue color scheme. From the second she had opened the door, she felt like she had walked into a magazine. Only one thing looked out of place, and that was the Christmas tree. Sitting in the living room, it was tall and green and covered in ornaments. It was a nice, cheery sight. Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she’d help put up a Christmas tree. It hadn’t been since her childhood, certainly.

Although their tastes were different, Aelin did have a good collection of books in her bedroom. Nesta spotted some romances and thought she’d spend a couple days diving into the pages.

Not today, though.

Today she would explore the city.

She’d arrived in Velaris around eight the night before. The drive to the townhouse was less than twenty minutes and Nesta instantly made herself comfortable. The fridge had been recently stocked and the liquor cabinet was full. Judging from that and the look of her townhouse, Nesta had no idea what Aelin did for work but she decided that the woman did fairly well. There was no way Nesta would be able to afford anything close to this on her author’s salary. Although her books had begun to do well in the last few years, money went fast.

Having been asleep by ten, Nesta was wide awake before eight, surprising herself by how well she was adjusting to the time change. Maybe the jet lag would hit her later. She needed to take advantage of her time before that happened.

It was snowing outside but wasn’t too cold. The second the flakes hit the sidewalk, they’d melt. It was a nice change from trudging through feet of snow like she did back home. Considering the heart of the city wasn’t far, Nesta decided she would walk. After putting on her boots and coat, she grabbed her purse off the bar in the kitchen and slung it across her body before locking Aelin’s door behind her and strutting toward the city.

Velaris was beautiful.

Not only the starlight, which Nesta had admired the night before in awe, but the city itself was stunning. The skyscrapers were massive, the people were cheery, and the shops were busy. Everything was decorated - every building, every bus stop, every park bench. The light poles had ribbons wrapped around them like presents and the statues were surrounded by string lights and holly. Nesta had never seen anything like it. With the city so big and so much to do, she was afraid even two weeks wouldn’t be time to see it all.

She didn’t want to waste a single second and before she knew it, it was lunch time and she’d stopped at a restaurant whose windows were open to the hustle and bustle of the streets outside, despite the temperature. Thanks to a roaring fire in the hearth, Nesta was cozy as could be as she sipped her tea and ate the most amazing BLT she’d ever had.

“Everything good over here?” Her server, Emerie, stopped by, a stack of plates in her hand.

“It’s all lovely,” Nesta replied, giving the dark haired woman a polite smile. It was more than she usually offered those around her, but this trip she’d decided to try and be nicer to people. Unless they deserved it, at least. Starting with her sweet waitress was easy. “Thank you so much.”

Emerie’s brows bunched together before she said, “I’m sorry, I’ve got to ask. Where are you from? I’ve been trying to figure out your accent, but I can’t.”

Nesta’s own eyebrows raised, not realizing she even had an accent, but she was a long way from home. “I’m from a small town just south of Spring, but I’ve lived in Orynth for years.”

“Orynth? In Terrasen?” Emerie’s eyes were wide. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s beautiful. And cold.”

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh. “That it is.”

“What brings you to Velaris?” Emerie asked, a bus boy coming and taking the dirty dishes off her hands. “Are you visiting for the holidays or did you just move to town?”

Shaking her head, despite the fact that she’d been asked two questions, Nesta said, “Just needed a vacation from life. Thought the City of Starlight was the place to do just that.”

“Well, if you’re looking for suggestions to start this vacation of yours, I can give you a few places to check out,” she suggested, and the offer was too kind to decline. Five minutes later, Nesta had a long list on her phone of places to enjoy, starting with the Rainbow.

It was a strip of local artists in shops and vendor carts. Sculptures lined the streets and murals covered the brick walls. As soon as she started exploring the Rainbow of Velaris that afternoon, Nesta decided that Feyre would be in heaven there. In fact, she picked up a few pieces to bring home to her sister for Christmas. There was a painting, a landscape piece of something called Starfall that Nesta was mesmerized by, and a tiny clay sculpture of an ancient being with dark, incandescent wings that caught her attention. Feyre would love both.

She spent hours there, admiring the art, exploring the street. By the time the sun began to set, Nesta was exhausted, but feeling fulfilled. She also found a set of glass roses for Elain. Although Nesta would be missing Christmas with her sisters, she would come home with unforgettable presents.

Realizing she was starving and not wanting to test Aelin’s kitchen out just yet, Nesta checked the list that Emerie helped her create. There was a little bar and grill not far from Aelin’s that Emerie gave a glowing review. Apparently it had live music, which was always a plus. By the time she made it back to the townhouse, however, Nesta’s feet were killing her and she almost cursed herself for not wearing more practical shoes. The boots looked cute, but they’d been worth it. After dropping off her sister’s gifts, she decided they were cute enough to be worth it again.

A drink would help her forget about her aching feet, surely.

It only took her a few minutes to reach the Illyrian from the townhouse and when she arrived, she was pleasantly surprised to find it busy. It gave her a chance to watch people, to imagine the stories and lives the people around her led. There was a lone table open, thanks to the gloriously chaos of open seating and Nesta found herself sitting before a small stage.

The bartender came, a handsome man about her again, with eyes a color of violet she’d never encountered before, and promised to return with a Jack and Coke and the best thing the kitchen had to offer.

As she waited, she began to relax. She spotted a couple at the bar, happy in love, then another couple a few spots down that couldn’t seem to stop fighting. There were a few loners there, too, surely hoping to find love or at least love for a night. Nesta wondered what people thought about her, sitting at a table alone, but quickly realized that she did not care.

Especially not as her drink came.

She sipped her Jack and Coke, continuing to watch those around her. Fifteen minutes passed before her waiter returned with the biggest bacon cheeseburger she’d ever seen, with homemade chips, and she ordered another drink to go along with it.

As she took the first bite — the first glorious bite — a man came out on the stage with a guitar. In a matter of seconds, a hush fell over the people in the restaurant and a group of women ran back to their table, giving him their full attention.

Nesta rolled her eyes.

He was one of those.

He cleared his throat as he sat down in the stool, leaning forward to speak into the microphone. “What’s up? Y’all know the drill. You want a song, I’ll play it if I know it. And if I don’t, I’ll pretend I do.” The gaggle of girls laughed far more enthusiastically than they should have. “Relax, have a drink, and tip your bartenders, unless it’s that asshole.”

He pointed at the violet-eyed man who was, in fact, the one serving her and was rolling his eyes, and started strumming.

Nesta was surprised at just how mesmerizing his voice was. It was husky and sensual and matched his rugged good looks. He wore a dark gray henley, jeans, and boots, and his hair was tied back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. There was a day or two’s worth of stubble along his jawline and his hazel eyes were bright in the stage lights trained on him. Most of the songs he played were covers, though he’d tossed a few original songs in now and then. Original songs that weren’t too bad.

He had just finished a request from one of the fan girls sitting at the table next to her own when she realized he was…looking at her.

She wasn’t sure how to take it, wasn’t sure how to handle his piercing stare. He must’ve seen the hesitancy in her body, because he chuckled as he started singing once more.

Started singing directly to her.

She liked it and hated it at the same time. There was a thrill that shot through her along with the dread and panic that had settled in the pit of her stomach. A couple of the fan girls shot disgusted looks her way and Nesta couldn’t blame them. There she was, sloppily eating a burger by herself while getting serenaded by a guy they were obviously obsessed with.

He was handsome.

He also liked the attention and Nesta could tell. He was the type of man that thrives on a woman’s attention, the kind that used it to his advantage and ran with it.

She wondered which of these groupies he’d be taking home tonight. Nesta looked pointedly at him as she took the last bite of her burger and that stupid grin appeared again as the beautiful words streamed from his mouth.

She suddenly realized he was singing Your Body is a Wonderland and scoffed, pulling enough money out of her wallet to cover her tab and tip her server.

With a final look at the stage, finding his eyes still on her and a smirk still on his handsome face, Nesta turned and left.

She couldn’t shake the feeling his gaze was on her the whole way home.

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theadventurerslog · 8 months

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Discworld | Part 1

The Adventurer’s Log

Release Date: 1995

I love Discworld the book series by Terry Pratchett and have done so since I was 13 when I first discovered it by taking Soul Music out of the school library. I'm currently doing a chronological reread and figured I might as well go all in and play the games too while I'm at it. Well, the first two anyway. There are three games, well actually four. Apparently there was an interactive fiction game in 1986 for The Colour of Magic, but I know nothing more beyond that and never see it mentioned. (Have to say I am curious though). For purposes here, however, three games. The first two pull events from the books, while the third focuses on an original character in an original story and that's Discworld Noir, which I would love to try sometime but getting it to run looks like more of a hassle. So for now the first two games.

That said I don't know if I'll go straight to the second one after this one or have some other stuff in between. I'll see how I'm feeling and how things are looking as I already have plans for November and I may want some short stuff for October.

I watched a friend play the second game several years ago, but I don't remember much and I'm pretty sure we didn't do the first game. What I've played so far hasn't been familiar. I'm pretty sure this is a blind play-through and if it's not it may as well be.

As for the Discworld itself, if you don't know, it's a magical flat world resting on the backs of four elephants standing on the back of a giant turtle, the Great A'tuin, drifting through space. Reality tends to be...thin. Things have a tendency to slip through.

This first game pulls its general plot from Guards! Guards! which surrounds a brotherhood summoning an actual dragon to the city of Ankh-Morpork. Dragons at this point in time only exist as much smaller swamp dragons which are far less dangerous aside from having a tendency to explode. The book is the first book in the city watch arc. The game, however, uses the character Rincewind as the main protagonist. Rincewind is a wizard, or wizzard, of the Unseen University in Ankh-Morpork. He's actually terrible at magic, but in his heart, he's a wizard. So, clearly the progression of this plot is going to go completely differently. Which I am okay with and it's nice the game could be played by someone who's never read the books. And it's drawing inspiration without stomping all over its source material and making you wonder why they didn't do their own thing, so I'm okay with it. I just need to tamp down on my own nit-pickiness for smaller details. Inspired by, inspired by. While still being recognizable. Excuse me I may have some aggravations with a certain other...'adaptation but oh no not really'. If you know you know, if you don't, don't worry about it. Ahem.

The game opens with a shot of the Discworld and the Great A'Tuin.

Introducing the Discworld.

Then we get the summoning ritual:

Dragon! Dragon!

Dragon!

Ominous peeking through the wall. Dragon!

And I'm already wondering who may or may not be involved from the book. Like, is the Supreme Grand Master still there heading this up? Are they the same person? It's an interesting thing both knowing and not knowing the plot at all.

From here we're gifted a scene of an Ankh-Morpork street with Death waiting and a drunk ambling down the street.

That's Ankh-Morpork all right.

I'm not sure about Death's voice, but I'm also very used to Christopher Lee from the animated adaptations of Soul Music and Wyrd Sisters (and Christopher Lee, come on, just an unfair fight really) or Ian Richardson from the Hogfather movie adaptation. They did add some effects so he's still got some IMPACT though. Still some sense of speaking in caps. And he's not a main character here anyway. I wonder how much he will pop up... How many deaths will there be? Will Rincewind have a near-Death experience?

The drunk ran into him briefly and got an ominous see you soon. Which... Yeah. The drunk proceeded into an alley and was saved from a mugging by being fried by dragon fire.

With that grisly affair complete we move on to see the Unseen University.

I was given another scene of the Bursar speaking with the Archchancellor talking about the rumours of the dragon. The Bursar notes that dragons don't exist unless you believe in them. Belief is extremely important on the Disc. Nevertheless there seems to be one and it's the university's civic duty to do something about it, so he sends the Bursar off to fetch Rincewind. Do you hate Rincewind, Archchancellor, is that it?

A note about the Archchancellor. He seems to be meant to be Ridcully from the books, and by the point of Guards! Guards! he certainly was the Archchancellor and have been for several books. He hasn't felt very much like Ridcully at this point though and if it wasn't for an 'unhygienic' comment I'd be uncertain if it was him or not. The game just has him labelled as Arch chancellor so I'm sticking with that instead. Except making it the one word it's meant to be. Split in two words is driving me a little nuts.

A note about this whole intro: there's been a fly buzzing around every scene from the drunkard coming on screen, then it bothered Death and continued on through the Archchancellor and Bursar's conversation. I have no idea what to make of that if it's going to be relevant or what. Complete mystery. In some ways it feels like it's just a fun guide to follow as you move through the intro, but also... why?

And finally we move in to Rincewind being woken up by the Bursar banging on his door letting him know the Archchancellor wants to see him, and I was finally given control.

I had a few different things to examine, like the totally not-ominous shape outside to which Rincewind said:

"Yes - a mysterious shape, a sinister shape - a shape fraught with... shapeness.

It must be a plot element - otherwise there'd be a better label!"

I can't remember the exact label. I think it was something like 'mysterious shape' or was that exactly.

The wardrobe had no knob to open it with. Turns out I could have opened it then but I didn't have a handle on the controls yet. Sometimes... it pays to look at manuals! Something I did not do until a little later.

And on top of the wardrobe was the sleeping Luggage. The Luggage is also from the books. It's made of sapient pearwood and rage and will follow its owner everywhere and anywhere on its many legs. At least when it's not sleeping here anyway. I couldn't rouse it yet.

With my examinations complete and my seeming inability to do anything yet I left to go explore the university.

And got traumatized by stairs.

I mean it's a point and click. No manual movement here. You can't die. But the Sierra stair trauma is real, especially after King's Quest IV... After my little moment of gratitude that this isn't King's Quest and the stairs cannot harm me, I started exploring.

I found my way to the dining hall and got my first conversation the UI of which was sure familiar. I had to laugh that I'm playing this after Sam & Max Hit the Road. It's the same system!

This also made me go find a manual to see what these options actually mean and learn other controls.

So from left to right we have

Big smile - greeting

Clown - sarcasm

Question mark - question

Cloud (has an animated lightning bolt I didn't catch) - anger

Waving hand - goodbye

And then other topics can appear too.

I also found out that left clicking is for moving, of course I knew that. Right clicking examines. I'd figure that out. But most importantly, double clicking is how you interact. I also found out if you click on Rincewind you can access his teeny tiny two item inventory which is more like one item because once you get money, it sticks so you only ever have room to carry one other item on his person. The rest is for the Luggage when it's acquired.

I chatted with the wizards which while entertaining didn't give me anything too terribly useful to know at this point which is fine: mostly just chatter about wizardry and the dragon rumours. I like talking to all the people anyway. And Windle Poons was there too! He's an important character in one of the books.

In my continued exploration I found a storage room and got my first inventory item--a broom. I always get excited for my first item.

I also found a statue and a groaner:

I checked out the library and got an aside? An instructional aside? A game equivalent of a footnote as a nod to the books' footnotes?

There were a couple of these informative bits, one explaining the Librarian who is an orangutan--he was turned into one in a magical accident and refused to be changed back--and another discussing L-Space.

So far I've only seen these in the library.

Here's a whole page about L-Space! https://wiki.lspace.org/L-space

So a fun thing here I wasn't expecting and they don't explain at all so purely for book readers. The character giving these little lessons is Twoflower made clear by the glasses and camera, ahem, iconograph. He was in the first two books and was the Disc's first tourist. Circumstances led him and Rincewind to be travelling together and many antics ensued. He was also the original owner of the Luggage.

See? I can do asides too. Back to the game.

I also chatted with the Librarian "Ook!". And was told I'd need a library card to take anything out after much back and forth. I did get a little irked that a lot of the dialogue options led Rincewind to calling him a monkey, which is something you Do Not Do with the Librarian if you don't want the wrath of an orangutan. You do not want the wrath of an orangutan. Rincewind kept getting head bopped. Hard. It's just Rincewind of the books would know better! And he and the Librarian end up getting along pretty well. Then I reminded myself of 'inspired by' and carried on. Things are just going to be different. Not looking at anything horrifically egregious so far; it's okay. Even Rincewind himself isn't exactly right here in other ways either. Just hush that part of my brain.

I finally made my way to the Archchancellor and found out what he wanted.

Unseen University needed to be 'properly represented' in attempts to dispose of the dragon. Can't have some yokel slaying it and have people wondering what wizards are for. Then he sent me to go fetch a copy of Featherwinkle's Concise Compendium of Dragon Lairs from the library.

I ended up going back to Rincewind's room first, and with my knowledge of double clicking was able to open the wardrobe with a little magic and get a pouch of money. With the broom I was able to prod the Luggage awake and get it to join me.

Then back to the library where I was able to just request the book. No card needed when it's a request from the Archchancellor I suppose. Or the Librarian was trying to be rid of me earlier.

I brought the book back and the Archchancellor found the formula for Recoglimento's Neverfailing Dragon's Lair Revealer. He was quick to halt Rincewind's protests as well with making sure his performance would be brought to the attention of the university board when they review his grant next year. Ah, university politics.

So the formula, which thankfully can be accessed when checking the book again, so it's always handy needs four ingredients:

A staff of tumultuous thermaturgy.

A miniature creature of excitable chitters

A container made of the strongest ferrous metal

Dragon's breath! Ulp!

I got a voice actor joke too when I kept trying to talk to the Archancellor:

Archchancellor: "No time for idle chatter." Rincewind: "Well, sorry. As if I can help who supplies my voice."

Rincewind is voiced by Eric Idle. Heehee.

I have goals now! Good old adventure game object collecting!

Next up I'll do another sweep of the university in case anything changed, then check out whatever can be checked out on the grounds and presumably head into the city proper.

#discworld #discworld game #adventure games #discworld_log

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enddaysengine · 1 year

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Daywalkers (Chronicles of Darkness)

Vampires! They drink blood, can't stand sunlight, and light on fire like they are kindling, right? WRONG! The Chronicles of Darkness are filled with weird edge cases and the daywalkers are one of them. They fit a reasonable definition for vampires, but they are defintely hobgoblins from the Hedge. Changelings who assume they understand vampires through pop culture or an encounter with the Kindred are in for a rude awakening, as the sun is at worst an inconvience for daywalkers.

Image from Pexels

A daywalker in the mortal world can pass for human, as long as no gets too close a look at them. They are gaunt and obvious anemic, with slender features that boarder on elven and prominant fangs. A typical daywalker is about as smart and composed as a brick, but they have an uncanny to convice others to do their bidding. While some are far more intelligent, most are decidedly minions as opposed to masterminds. Given their tendency to indulge their appitites, most freeholds are quick to drive daywalkers off their turf for back into the Hedge. Some Spring and Autumn cortiers, Darklings, Helldivers, and Ghosthearts use pacts and bargins to bind the hobgoblins to their service instead, though they do so at their own peril.

Daywalkers irritate the Kindred who encounter them. They are clearly dim, feral creatures who barely qualify to even participate in the All-Night Society and yet they register as vampires to all Kindred senses. Worse, for all the Kindred's haughty superiority, daywalkers need not fear the sun, affording them an enviable freedom to move about during the day. While daywalkers can never truely be accepted into the Covenants, in some Domains the Circle of the Crone and Ordo Dracul affliate with them in order to study fae magic.

Virtue: Greedy Vice: Eerie Aspiration: Find someone to safely feed on, Attributes: Intelligence 1, Wits 1, Resolve 2; Strength 5, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3; Presence 3, Manipulation 4, Composure 1 Skills: Occult 1; Athletics 2, Brawl 3, Larceny 2, Stealth 3; Intimidation 1, Persuasion 3, Socialize 1, Streetwise 2 Merits: Anonymity 2, Fleet of Foot 3 Wyrd: 2 Glamour/per Turn: 7/2 Willpower: 3 Initiative: +3 Defense: 3 Size: 5 Speed: 16 Health: 8 Frailties: Iron; cannot use Dread Powers or Contracts while under the Sun's gaze; must flee from the smell of garlic Weapons/Attacks: Type: Bite; Damage: 0L; Dice Pool: 8; Special: Must be used during a grapple. Contracts: Goblin’s Eye, Hostile Takeover Dread Powers: Drink Glamour, Hypnotic Gaze, Know Soul

New Dread Power - Drink Glamour: As the damage move in a grapple, the hobgoblin bites into a person, feasting near a major artery. As long as the attack deals damage, it also causes the hobgoblin to gain one Glamour, regardless of the damage done. If the victim has a Glamour pool, the victim loses one Glamour and the hobgoblin gains an additional Glamour.

#Chronicles of Darkness #changeling the lost #hobgoblin #vampire #Vampire the Requiem #Urban Horror #Urban Fantasy #rpg inspiration #monster #monster stats

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thenightling · 2 years

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Who are The Hecateae?

In issue 2 Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman we are introduced to a trio of witches known as The Hecateae. Someone in my Sandman Facebook group asked me about them. Part of why you might not know who they are is because Neil accidentally invented a new spelling for the name.

The original spelling should probably have been Hecataea. It all originates with Hecate, the Greek Goddess of magick and witchcraft. In modern neo-Paganism the concept of the Triple Goddess is very popular. Maiden, Mother, and Crone.

Their sigil is usually the waxing, full, and waning moon respectively.

Neil Gaiman uses the Maiden, Mother, and Crone a lot in The Sandman. With the Hecataea, and Eve, for example. Eve can transform to a Maiden form, Mother, and Crone. And the story behind this is told in issue 40 of The Sandman, A Parliament of Rooks. The story talks about how Adam may have had three wives, or they may have all been the same woman. And how “both” are true.

Three women, as a powerful magical force, is popular in folklore and mythology. There’s also The Fates of Greek Mythology, and the Furies AKA The Kindly Ones. The Norse had The Norns. In The Sandman Neil treats them all as aspects of the same entity.

When Morpheus summons The Hecataea in issue 2 of The Sandman “Imperfect hosts” he refers to them as Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. This is the name of the Fates (Moirai) in mythology. However these characters answer to Cynthia, Mildred and Mordred (Sometimes corrected to Morgan or Morgain). This is because The Three Witches used these names in their own horror anthology comic “The Witching Hour.” Nearly every character introduced in The Sandman issue 2 was an old horror anthology comic host. The title of the issue was a pun. “Imperfect hosts.”

The horror hosts introduced in this issue are Cain, Abel, Lucien, The Three Witches (The Hecataea), Eve (Also known as The Raven Woman), The Mad Mod Witch (Fashion Thing), and Destiny (now Destiny of The Endless). Cain, who began as DC’s equivalent to EC’s The Crypt Keeper, hosted The House of Mystery. Abel hosted The House of Secrets. Lucien hosted Tales of Ghost Castle (which is retroactively Morpheus’s castle in The Sandman). The Three witches hosted The Witching Hour. You get the idea.

But before they were even horror hosts, the trio was an architype common in folklore and popular culture. You will find that in most works of folklore and fiction if it’s not a witch acting alone, she’s usually in a coven of three. They’re not literally a Maiden (virgin or child-like), Mother, and Crone. Sometimes they just fit the physical appearance or personalities heavily associated with these concepts.

A popular famous example of this is Disney’s Hocus Pocus. Winifred, the leader, is the Crone of the group as she is the leader and most cantankerous. She’s also the eldest sister. Mary, the middle sister, is a bit heavier and is maternal toward her sisters. She loves food and loves to cook and care for her siblings. This is the mother. And Sarah (though not virginal) is the most child-like. Much like Cynthia in The Hecataea, she is surprisingly sensual and a bit dim.

Another good example is Terry Pratchett’s Wyrd Sisters who served as a parody on the trope, particularly from Shakespeare’s famous play.

Disney’s Gargoyles even had a version of The Sisters. In that continuity they are of Oberon’s court, meaning that they are fae folk. But much like The Endless in Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman their appearance changes based on who is addressing them. Goliath and his clan of Gargoyles saw them as human children. Demona saw them as woman Gargoyles (as she does not like or trust humans). MacBeth saw them as human women.

There’s also the Hex Girls in Scooby Doo and The Witch’s Ghost.

A helpful version of the three appear in the Fairy tale The Three Spinners where, like Rumpelstiltskin, they aid a girl who is forced to spin for a king.

Once you start to notice it, you realize the three turn up a lot in pop culture. It’s also common in religion. In Christianity there’s The Father, son, and Holy Spirit. Goethe’s Faust has Pagan roots despite its use of demons, Angels, and God. In fact the entity at the end may well be the Triple Goddess as she is referred to as “Virgin, Mother, and now Queen. Goddess grant your mercies.” - A. S. Kline translation of Goethe’s Faust Part 2. It’s no surprise that this also fits the Virgin Mary. A Maiden and a Mother, and also Queen (as opposed to Crone).

Note: Sometimes the Maiden, Mother, and Crone are actually referred to as Maiden, Mother, and Queen as it’s considered more respectful.

In The Sandman, at one point, Morpheus refers to the three-in-one as Witch Queen.

Again, this is because of the roots with Hecate, Goddess of Magick and spells. The neopagan popularity of The Triple Goddess also helps perpetuate the archetype. Almost every witch coven has three (sometimes four) members. Three is considered the sacred number. And once you notice it, you’ll start to see the Maiden, Mother, and Crone in a lot of things.

I will also point out here that though it’s popular to consider Midnight The Witching Hour, the actual traditional Witching Hour is three AM or as Ray Bradbury called it in Something Wicked This way Comes, The Soul’s Midnight.

Neil Gaiman takes the Hecataea and also uses The three-in-one for The Furies AKA The Kindly Ones.

#The Hecataea #Hecateae #The Witching Hour #The Sandman #Sandman #Neil Gaiman

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adoranoia · 3 months

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from monty for sun! // i know a mask when i see one, sun had said, and monty felt his gears spin, wires sparking, circuits alight with anger. a mask? a mask?! certainly monty had his facade he put up, had his act he showed the world, but it isn’t a mask — a mask is something to hide behind, something to be small and scared and childlike! and by god, monty is none of those things, and monty does not hide!

“ are you insultin’ me? ” monty growls, clawed hands curling into fists, metal scraping metal as he feels the anger rise, bubbling up to sit in the back of his throat. “ i don’t got a mask, it’s not— don’t talk ‘bout stuff you don’t know! ”

@wyrding // random asks, always accepting!

sun sits on the empty main stage's edge, long legs dangle and lightly kick back and forth, he looks down at the gator, red-hot temper and all. apparently, something he had said struck a nerve, though: the celestial animatronic simply blinks a few times, owlishly. slender hands raise in faux-surrender, and a light laugh bubbles and pops from his voice-box. 🌞 ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ " whoa-ho, big guy! i'm not insulting you at all, pinky promise! i'm just saying! we've all got a mask of some kind, r-iii-ght? an act! but... ", " you don't have to try so hard around me, is all! i won't judge. " he does little jazz-hands, tipping his head absentmindedly, as his mechanical gaze re-adjusts a bit. 🌞 ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ " doesn't everyone need someone like that, huh?--but, oooh, what do i know? i'm just a little 'ol daycare attendant, after all! " a dramatized sigh, slouching as the back of his hand is set on his own forehead. (his eyes are shut for a moment, before one pops open, playfully peeking over at monty.) 🌞 ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

#* && IC #* && OPEN STARTER #* && SUN / DROP .#v01 * ( pre game )#oh i care them so bad already thank u cat for this bread lmao #wyrding

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parse-c · 4 months

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“Loveeeeeee Song” : Tones of Marxism in Modern Capitalist Angst Expressed Through Pop Music

“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression / I need love and affection”

— “Loveeeeee Song”, Rihanna feat. Future, 2012

Graft:

Love (#365efe), and, affection

Network:

loan | loaf ($$$) | vend | affect (to move toward) ٠: ir ٠: direct | ion (state of action)

Hear me out : Rihanna and Future’s “Loveeeeeee Song” as an anachronistic critique of the governmental bailout of “too-big-to-fail” corporations and corporate personhood.

It was a fleeting idea. But I imagined some tug-of-war between the extant capitalist infrastructure and an expanding state body resulting in the carrying through one of the more drastic fiduciary duties of a free government when it comes to intervening in a laissez-faire market, said government being a corporation itself, and said duty being bailouts.

Rather than an appeal to consumers, the singers’ lyrica embody corporations’ market appeal, this time pandering (rather seductively) to the government to subsidize their losses.

“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression /

“I need love and affection /

“And I hope I’m not sounding too desperate /

…

“I’m not asking for the world, maybe /

“You can give me what I want, baby /

“Come hold me tight and when I’m drowning, save me

Basically if you (the government) are really bout that capitalist life, let’s get down to brass tacks. Or gold stacks? Nah, just fiat green backs.

Both the government and the corporations were faced with a question that placed them at the center: How do we save a market when we’re the ones it depends on, saddled as we be with debt national and international alike?

That marked a change or maturation to a subsequent stage of capitalism in America, a quiet renewed fusion of interests intended to seal the fissures that formed, to fill in the places where the companies’ lifeblood hemorrhaged like a Victorian hemophiliac.

“We both grown so how we feel we can let it show

Public-facing, despite socialist (and I use that term lightly) emergency fiduciary infrastructure, one can imagine the corporations’ request that the illusion of a free market be preserved:

“If I’m your girl, say my name boy, let me know I’m in control /

Did the bailouts stipulate governmental shares in tradable companies? I don’t think so. In fact I could be wrong. But:

“Typically, the government also sets higher regulation and oversight of the company, requiring them to restructure…or cap salaries of executives for a time period. Governments provide bailouts in order to maintain regulation of the overall market and economy, and to avoid further collapse of the financial system.”

(Cornell Law 2020)

So I imagine “Loveeeeee Song” captures a subconscious collective angst experienced on the part of free market companies when the federal government intervened.

“Why window shop when you own this? /

Then there’s government bureaucrats leaning over one’s shoulder in the business sector.

“Don’t slip, don’t slip /

And a latent desire for subsidy and privately held means of production to be handed over to the state?

“I just wanna be in your possession /

Marxist sentiments within a capitalist system would be the equivalent of a Freudian death wish or a red scare. But ideally only rears its head as a fleeting but purportedly fatal-to-capitalism-and-freedom solution as one lays out paths toward a return to solvency with minimal disenfranchisement.

Rihanna and Future’s tune was released in 2012. Four years after the TARP bailout that included Chrysler motors. Not as timely a response if we’re limited to our own borders.

But Spain endured a similar economic hardship in 2012. This all being spun from straw here, there’s still room for artistic commiseration with a neighbor across the pond. And in some fateful wyrding way that may have been wrapped up in the liminality of the song.

Some of these musical artists are impressively innovative and inspiringly aware.

Maybe “Loveeeeeee Song” was a way of processing the shock to our exceptional exceptionalism. Some of us will need bailouts in life. Some of us won’t. I know I’ve been the one in need more than a few times in my life.

Anyways, we can learn to understand ourselves through others. Enduring similar situations bridges convivial realms that seem inaccessible by mundane standards yet grant us access when filtered through different media such as art and music.

So…ludibrium or laudi?

٠ع إِ ن ة ئ

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