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oharapussy · 9 months

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“lyla, what does miguel want for his birthday?”

another spiderdads x reader fic, this time miguel’s birthday 🙏🏼🙏🏼

as always minors dni!

“lyla, what does miguel want for his birthday?” you asked, her tiny frame facing her back to you.

peter had sent you on this mission weeks before, knowing you wouldn’t crack miguel so easily. he was a private person: he wouldn’t like a party, or any big show of it. each time you asked him, he shrugged you off, as if there wasn’t time to entertain such a question. lyla was perhaps the only one who would know, and as she was constantly, silently, conspiring against him, she took great pleasure in what you had asked.

“miguel was very intentional in how i was programmed,” she pouted. “i’m not supposed to entertain those kinds of questions.”

“come on,” you pressed, curious. she rolled her eyes, screens instantly materializing around her.

“i’ll cross-reference his search history on his downtime with his online shopping carts,” she said, tapping away. “he doesn’t keep these private from m-“

oh.

you both instantly froze at what appeared on the screens, both video and text.

“guy pegged with strap-on”

“girl and guy tagteam friend”

“brunette top fucks bear stupid”

“best vibrators for beginner anal play”

oh my fucking god.

“well… there you go,” lyla said, flickering away in an instant, leaving you in the darkness of your office.

you weren’t sure what to tell peter.

—

miguel came back from the gym late at night, beads of sweat still trickling at his hairline. discarding his things at the kitchen counter, he made his way to his bedroom. a mix of curiosity and lust bubbled in his stomach: you both had been dropping hints at him all day. it had started with a pair of panties lazily hanging against his desk, building up to the new, state-of-the-art vibrator now lying on his bed, still in its packaging.

taking him by surprise, you wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing his neck. peter followed, holding his jaw and pulling him into a kiss, full and long. he whined softly against the attack, almost melting against the touch.

“happy birthday, migi,” peter said, smiling into the kiss. in a swift move, he pushed miguel against the bed, his cock already hard and twitching in his sweats. “now take your fucking pants off.”

with your help, his dick burst from his pants within a few seconds, his tip wet, desperate to fuck something.

“god, you’re pathetic, already so fucking hard for us, baby,” you teased. he twitched at the insult, hips grinding against nothing. “well, what do you say? want us to fuck you dumb, honey?”

“please,” he whined. the poor thing had been in charge for so long, he hardly knew how to be so submissive.

peter sat with his back against the bed’s headboard, legs wide to accommodate miguel’s broad shoulders. he let out soft moans as miguel reached ever-closer to the base of his cock, gasping against the new pressure in his throat. peter’s hands were in the tangle of his hair, calling him pretty names all the while. from behind, you had finally worked the strap around your hips.

“how bad do you want this dick?” you bullied, grinding it into his thigh. reaching in front, you circled the tip of his dick with his fingers, really getting him going.

“just fuck me already, mamí, please,” he cried out, pulling his mouth from peter. he bucked his hips backward, almost trying to catch your tip.

steadying his hips with your hands, you pushed into his hole, causing him to cry out with such an intensity, you feared you would wake his neighbors. kissing his wide back, you rubbed his stomach, helping him accommodate the size, before beginning to pump it inside him.

the rutting motion caused him to sink deeper onto peter, making both the men gasp and whine in a way that you had never seen before. why hadn’t you done this sooner?

“good boy, honey,” peter managed, looking at how close he was, highly-evident in his face.

blissed out of his mind, he came some moments later, cock weeping and grinding into the sheets for relief. pushing him past it, you began to hit that sweet spot inside him even harder. you didn’t think it was possible for someone to cum so much. by the end, he was a complete whimpering mess, only capable of begging to be fucked.

#atsv smut #atsv x reader #spiderdads x reader #miguel o’hara smut #peter b parker smut #clearing the drafts🤭🤭#sub miguel o'hara #spiderdads

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canyoufucksoniccharacters · 1 month

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I am DEEPLY sorry about making you dive down this rat’s nest of a lore hole, but I’m back with another question that should be cleared up: Can You Fuck Shadow the Hedgehog?

I have a feeling this is gonna get complicated real fast…

I've had this one in mind for a while, so this shouldn't be all that hard to write.

CAN YOU FUCK: SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG?

...

YOU FELL FOR IT! YOU ALL FELL FOR IT!

To any reasonable person, Shadow should have been included in the Sonic post, alongside Surge, Mighty, etc. But you want to know why I didn't? Because if I did, it wouldn't give me the proper opportunity to rant about something.

SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG IS NOT 50 YEARS OLD. HE NEVER WAS, HE NEVER HAS BEEN, AND HE WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE.

This is a misconception that has permeated through the fanbase for Chaos knows how long, being repeated over and over and over again, ad nauseam.

Why do people even say this? Well, Project Shadow started 50 years before the event of Sonic Adventure 2. Which means Shadow's creation happened 50 years ago.

So, people take this as "Oh, Shadow was created 50 years ago, this must mean he's 50 years old!"

DO YOU PEOPLE NOT KNOW WHAT THE WORD "STASIS" MEANS.

During Sonic Adventure 2, Eggman breaks into a military base to unleash a "top secret military weapon" for his plans. This weapon, is, of course, shadow. The screenshot above is from the scene where Shadow is released.

What does this look like those particles are? What do they look like to you? Usually, thick white air particles like these are a result of the use of cold to pause biological processes. On top of that, the shot right before it displays the object atop the machinery pretty well, although with some distance.

This is a pod. Like, this is very obviously a pod. Shadow is even standing on top of it once he's revealed.

And what does he say when he's revealed?

Note how he says "Awakening". This is taken from a re-translation of the Japanese script, since the official translation makes him refer to being released as opposed to being awakened. Remember, translations for these games in this era were... Less than stellar.

(seriously, don't go there yet? to the guy telling you he shouldn't have ever been born? like maybe you're right maybe you shouldn't have been born but we don't know enough to say that for sure. ok, buddy)

So, yeah, Shadow isn't 50. I've been saving this for a standalone post, because it is baffling to me how people still keep spouting that "Fact" over and over, even though it makes no sense. He was frozen. He didn't develop mentally or physically. I'm not a Marvel fan by any means, but this is like if you added 66 years to Captain America's age because that's how long he was frozen. For these characters, if you just knocked them unconscious and then sent them to the future, it literally would not make even a bit of a difference.

He's not 50. Moving on.

Oh yeah, uh. That whole immortality thing.

(Source: Japanese dub, translated.)

Here and there, official material will mention Shadow as being "Immortal" or "Ageless". While never stated in the 2005 game, it makes complete sense, as Shadow was made with Black Doom's own genetic material. Black Doom is immortal, Black Doom's genes are in Shadow, thus, Shadow cannot die of old age.

There is, however, no implication that he does not mentally mature. In fact, it would make sense for him to start out quite young to then become more mature as time goes on, since part of the reason he was made was to accompany Maria, in a sibling-like relationship. Although it's unlikely that the Sonic Channel artwork is canon, most of it at least, it does convey a situation akin to this, which would be horribly out of character otherwise.

Look at em! They're doing their homework together! And then a few years later, after Maria's death...

Look at him! Using a minigun for the first time!

His maturity in SA2 also seems just about on par with Sonic's, so it's safe to assume that when that game happened, they were about even in terms of mental development. In general, Shadow is a Sonic counterpart. A very, very close counterpart.

... Very... Very... Ah screw it, let's just bite the bullet.

youtube

This happened! An entire Bumblekast episode dedicated to Sonic, Shadow, and mostly Sonadow. It's pretty recent, too! From 8 months ago! In fact, it was made for Pride Month 2023; after Frontiers released. So, Ian Flynn by then became not just a comic writer, but a writer for the games.

I'm not saying Sonadow is canon, obviously, but if the current writer of the games is willing to entertain it for an entire episode and even go as far as saying it's actually really easy to make happen and you don't need to do too much work for it to happen, then it's probably safe to assume the characters are on even ground in terms of maturity.

So, if Shadow can hypothetically, in a fully canon-compatible way, make out with Sonic, and Sonic is fuckable, then Shadow is, by extension, fuckable.

Honestly this is entirely longer than necessary. I could have brought this one up earlier and saved myself the work. Where's the fun in that, though?

Either way, verdict is;

You can, in fact, fuck Shadow The Hedgehog.

#status: fuckable #sonic the hedgehog #sth #shadow the hedgehog

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mythserene · 3 months

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Lewisohn: rewriting history in the area where we trust him most – the songs performed

-In which Lewisohn rewrites a Beatles story and completely changes the songs sung, and coincidentally changes them in such a way so that if you know your Beatles trivia you'll think that Paul completely hogged the mic for two-thirds of the show-

Although I’ve come to a place where I’m more surprised to find a Lewisohn quote that turns out to be accurate than I am one that’s butchered, I have tended to believe that he is trustworthy on things like dates and songs performed. I’ve felt like that’s probably his anchor, and that he shapes the rest of his narrative around that.

But perhaps the habit of taking license cannot help but spread into other areas, because I am discovering that neither dates nor song lists turn out to be sacred with Mark Lewisohn.

As far as dates, that is part of a bigger piece that has been tangling me up for a few weeks, but his version of “the Beatmakers” performance shows that Mark Lewisohn will write what he wants, and that he has zero compunction in changing history to suit himself, regardless of subject.

In Chapter 22: “Right then, Brian — Manage Us,” a primary theme is that every promoter was done with the Beatles when Brian Epstein came along. Brian Kelly, especially, is given the role of being fed up with them, and Lewisohn uses “the Beatmakers” performance—Gerry and the Pacemakers and the Beatles going on stage together—as an example of how bad everything was just before Brian stepped in. (I do believe that Brian was a godsend, but that doesn’t mean that Lewisohn’s narrative is supported in every area, and in some places he stretches a lot more than in others. This is definitely one of those areas.)

Here’s the story: before going to the Litherland Town Hall performance, Bob Wooler had been drinking, maybe with the Beatles, and in Lewisohn’s version, Gerry seeing that they were all drunk sent “Gerry Marsden scuttling to the pub around the corner.” Every telling I’ve seen, one way or another, is in agreement that Gerry Marsden as well as Wooler had been drinking, and that the Pacemakers and the Beatles all played together with Wooler introducing them as “the Beatmakers.” Lewisohn adds some highly unlikely Preludin into the mix—“John, pissed and pilled…”—but I’m not going to take that on here.

Along with the chance to tell a riotously colorful story—one that in Lewisohn’s telling goes much farther than any of the source materials I’ve found—the main point of the tale is for Wooler to give us the climax of the—(all unsourced, other than this single, butchered Wooler quote)—frustration Lewisohn tells us promoter Brian Kelly was feeling: “Brian Kelly was fraught with anxiety over it. It was only a short episode and a bit of a shambles.”

The quote by Wooler that Lewisohn uses to try to prove his point, and the one and only reference he gives to support any of his “Brian Kelly fed up/Epstein must save Beatles” narrative is a modification of one of those Lewisohn monsters I call a “donut.” (There’s a hole in the middle. However in this case, as in many others, he also adds words that were never spoken.)

THE ACTUAL WOOLER QUOTE:

“Brian Kelly was fraught with anxiety over it, but the audience liked it. It was a bit of a shambles really, so I lowered the curtain on the proceedings.”

LEWISOHN’S REWRITE:

“Brian Kelly was fraught with anxiety over it. It was only a short episode and a bit of a shambles.”

And while I am very interested in what Lewisohn is using for his Brian-Epstein-saved-the-Beatles-but-Paul-tried-to-thwart-him narrative, I felt the need to pause to look at Lewisohn’s massive and nonsensical alterations to this performance, especially in the songs the improvised combo-band played. (And yet how very authoritatively Lewisohn does it.)

The whole section has problems, but let us deal with the songs.

Mark Lewisohn says they “thundered through four numbers”—

The Beatmakers thundered through four numbers—“Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On,” “What’d I Say” (extended mix), “Red Sails in the Sunset” and the new Ray Charles record “Hit the Road Jack”—during which John, pissed and pilled, slid from the piano and slumped on the stage.

—‘Tune In,’ Lewisohn – Chapter 22 (Emphasis mine.)

Sticking to the songs, the page referenced in the footnote first quotes Bob Wooler:

“They did a few numbers like ‘Hit The Road Jack’, swopping instruments and the like.”

—FOOTNOTE 9: ‘The Best of Fellas’ – Bob Wooler (Emphasis mine)

Then the next paragraph quotes Gerry Marsden, and I’m going to add boldface to the songs he says they played:

“It worked very well as we all knew the same songs and all played the same songs. Paul, John and I took turns on the piano and Les played the sax. We did ‘Roll Over Beethoven’, ‘Johnny B. Goode’, ‘Great Balls Of Fire’, ‘Pretend’, ‘Blueberry Hill’, ‘I’m Walkin'’ and ‘Sweet Little Sixteen’, probably some others too.”

—FOOTNOTE 9: ‘The Best of Fellas’ – Gerry Marsden (Emphasis mine)

So, either they performed exactly four numbers, including an “extended mix” of Paul wailing ‘What’d I Say,’ —or— they performed at least eight numbers and “probably some others, too.”

“The Best of Fellas” version from Bob Wooler and Gerry Marsden that is referenced in the footnote makes sense in ways that Lewisohn’s rewriting doesn’t. Marsden begins by saying that they all knew the same numbers, and moreover what Lewisohn is telling us is that Paul took over the mic for three out of four numbers, and went so far in his spotlight-hogging selfishness as to sing an “extended version” of ‘What’d I Say.’ It’s a particularly egregious “if you know, you know” insertion that conjures up a very damning image of Paul in this otherwise “mutual mood of cooperativeness.” But not only is Lewisohn’s song list not supported, if Paul had hogged the spotlight that way it’s only reasonable to believe that Marsden would have remembered that, and certainly wouldn’t have described the collaboration in the way he did. And if Paul was hogging the mic and spotlight and had sung song after song where he was the lead, Marsden absolutely, positively, would not have rolled off a list of songs that didn’t include a single, solitary Paul song. That is simply beyond belief.

Gerry Marsden’s recollection also makes a lot of sense in that it’s natural that he would best remember the songs where he sang lead. And indeed, out of the seven songs he names, four are Pacemakers’ songs. (Including the one Wooler names and Lewisohn decides to agree with: “Hit the Road, Jack.”) And none of the songs anyone names are songs where Paul sings lead. Two are John songs and the other is a George song, which lends credence to Gerry Marsden’s “probably some others, too” comment, because it’s likely that there was at least one song where Paul was lead.) But in Lewisohn’s seemingly fabricated four-song list, other than “Hit the Road, Jack” they’re all Paul numbers. So not only does Lewisohn choose to have Paul singing an extended version of a scene-stealing “What’d I Say” but he slyly tells us that Paul basically hogged the microphone for seventy-five percent of the numbers (and even more of the time) that this “cooperative” was on stage together. Now, if you’re not a hardcore fan with a fair amount of knowledge this will probably slip past you, but if you’ve got a dog in this hunt, and especially if you already think Paul McCartney is a self-obsessed prima donna, you’ll get the picture Lewisohn is so deliberately painting. And I write deliberately very—well, deliberately—because if a writer makes the decision to veer away from the record and create a very specific, very limited, and very fictional song list for an anecdote about two groups deciding to get together and sing, and more than two-thirds of the songs chosen for the historical rewrite are Paul songs—and then that writer even goes to the trouble of telling readers that Paul sang an “extended mix” of one of those songs—then of course it’s deliberate. Lewisohn didn’t choose his reinvented song list at random out of a Bingo cage.

Here are the songs referenced in the footnote versus the songs that Lewisohn says they sang.

SOURCE MATERIAL SONG LIST/USUAL LEAD:

“Hit the Road Jack” ✓ /Gerry Marsden

“Roll Over Beethoven”/George

“Johnny B. Goode”/John

“Great Balls Of Fire”/Gerry (and Paul?)

“Pretend”/Gerry Marsden

“Blueberry Hill”/Gerry Marsden

“Sweet Little Sixteen”/John

“I’m Walkin'”/Gerry Marsden

LEWISOHN’S SONG LIST/USUAL LEAD:

“Hit the Road Jack” ✓ /Gerry Marsden

“Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On”/Paul

“What’d I Say” (extended mix)/Paul

“Red Sails in the Sunset”/Paul

----

P.S. If you haven't been reading all of @wingsoverlagos 's work, you absolutely have to. She's done so much and Lewisohn's inventions are so much worse than I realized.

#the beatles #beatles #mark lewisohn #lewisohn is making stuff up again #dr frankenquote #lewisohn #the beatmakers #bob wooler #fine tuning #tune in #paul mccartney #john lennon #gerry and the pacemakers #the best of fellas

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parentsday · 30 days

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I once saw someone say that after Parents Day (the episode, not you), they never really touched on Max’s familial situation again. And while I agree that episodes like With Friends Like These could have paid a little lip service to it (why David just sent Max back home to what he knew were neglectful parents is beyond me, maybe he didn’t think there was anything he could do about it?), it feels to me like one of those things where once you know about it, you start seeing the character in a whole new light. Like you see what Max does in older and newer episodes and you rationalize it as “Oh, I see, he acts that way because his parents neglect him. Stuff like him not knowing how to swim or having a teddy bear when he’s theoretically too old for one.

i agree with you on many of your points and disagree heavily on the use of them you make later on. to start off max is an incredibly dear character to me, like painfully so. if i had the chance to i would love to dissect his head like one of a frog in a lab and see what makes his brain tick in ways it does, and of course one of the reasons is the abstract emotional state of mind any victim like him would have. one that sometimes gets more kafkaesque the longer i stare at him. so please bear in mind that i love the subtext his character possesses, i just can’t always rely on it to explain anything.

if you know me you know i like to complain about this shows writing, not out of hate for it but rather out of love for the material and what it started off as and has ability to be still (stuff like heavier writing that holds narrative weight, david being an asshole, the whole harrison thing that is lost to time now etc etc). whenever i watch this show with someone i usually opt to rewatch several earlier episodes after we finish parents day. it gets praised a lot but i don’t often see people mention how well it recontextualizes a lot of stuff previously shown to us, not only for max but other cast members too. a lot of the problems that stem from this is the fact that most other characters whose issues were presented to us in this episode are strawman connected to their family by the writers in a way that laters on allows for progress without relying on mention or presence of their parental figures (proper examples of this are preston, ered, nerris, somewhat harrison). max doesn’t get that simply by the virtue of the fact that his issues cannot exist in a vacuum and are inherently connected to his family. max’s parents haunting all of the narrative surrounding him has enough psychoanalytical subtext for it to traumatize several men and leave freud rolling in his grave, so i believe that you cannot in good faith progress his character without mentioning them or their actions or lack thereof towards him once or twice. that’s pretty much why i think that the topic of his abuse has not been brought up in a meaningful way since parents day. from where i stand i view abuse as one of the focus themes in this show, so poor treatment of it is very obvious to pin point to me as it usually drags most characters down with it the less it is respected in a way it should be.

like i said, the way the show recontextualizes max’s behavior leaves way for interpretation of the viewer on the way why he is the way he is, it’s easy for us to understand why he can’t swim or why he can’t fathom the idea of moving on and letting go on several occasions. the thing is in a perfect world we don’t have to do all of this. it can be attributed to good writing for making the audience be able to perceive any part of the characters psyche without the authors help, but in reality it’s lazy to expect everyone to treat the characters from a watsonian perspective and view their every move as a meta reference towards their trauma when not everyone cares enough to do so. the writer referencing child abuse and not adding onto it aside from the mention of its existence is exploitative of the viewers personal care for the character, it’s bad writing. you obviously can interpret what max does as a result of neglect (and you should!) with the power of subtext, implications and critical thinking, but what you also should think about is what does it tell you about his character aside from the fact that he is neglected. do we ever find out something new about his home situation or do scenes like these give us any discussion inside the show about the fact that he is still actively a victim of neglect? (the answer is most always gonna be no, maybe just always)

tldr; stuff like child abuse is heavy, writing it is hard and treating it the way rooster teeth does is not only poor writing but also disrespectful to the very real human trauma they are inserting into their show on more than one occasion

i would also love to discuss the david stuff you brought up and why him acting towards max and others in a way that he does in recent seasons is a long standing issue rather than a new problem but thats genuinely a conversation for another day as this post is already long enough as it is. thank you for the ask :3c

#i want to make a tag for these #camp camp meta analysis #that will work #camp camp #max cc

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thistle-and-thorn · 2 months

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Dying to know what you thought of the goldfinch. I never read it and am very 👀

thank god you sent this because i was about to make an incredibly long, rambling post about this but now you have prompted this, it feels less unhinged to put it into the form of a solicited answer. @.@

I....have mixed feelings about GF. Like, really mixed feelings. When I was in college, I took a seminar on opera history and we studied the opera, Wozzeck, and my professor described watching it as "an act of endurance." I felt sort of similarly about The Goldfinch. Like I'm glad I read it, and I can't wait to never read it again lmao.

It's a really well-written book--God, I want to write like her--and it is a compelling story with a lot of really great moments, but I found it to be overall less thematically incisive than TSH and, though TSH had some pacing issues, especially towards the end, The Goldfinch felt much, much more uneven. There's a lot of crossover between the two novels--unreliable narrators that are closeted queer men, so much drinking, so much drugs, etc--to the point where I thought a twist would be that they were set in the same universe and that Theo's father was somehow Richard Papen. But TSH felt bolder in a way, more satirically cutting, funnier, wilder, and younger. The Goldfinch is a sadder book, unrelentingly anxious and grief-stricken. And I do think this is sort of the point and I don't criticize it for that. It did make the melodrama of the novel's conclusion feel a little...i don't know...less justified and a little more gimmicky? And anxiety is a monotonous state so I think the GF lacked the emotional texture that made TSH much less....exhausting?

The Goldfinch is DT's ode to Dickens and there a lot of nods to Dickens in both direct references and style (the book is basically like what if uriah heep from david copperfield was psychosexually obsessed with pip from great expectations). There are certainly class dynamics here, episodic adventures, varied characters, and a lot of ruminations on providence but I did keep wondering what about Dickens drew her to tell this particular story which on a surface-level seems to ruminate on the impact of beauty, as opposed to the impact of wealth. In a lot of ways, TSH, with its commentary on class and wealth, even more over-the-top characters, feels like a better fit for Victorian literary structures.

In my wild and quite honestly unfounded speculation, I think the conclusion that I have come to is that it is a really, really personal book. Dickens was an intensely personal writer who used his own experiences, including those with his difficult father and poor upbringing and young infatuations as material, even in sort of unrealistic scenarios. I made a half-joking post about Brett Easton Ellis serving as DT's muse but I think....like...that may be true? I spent a lot of time, while reading this book, googling and reading about BEE and his erratic personality, contradictory and sometimes controversial and nihilistic media statements, and drug addiction. (Something that stood out to me was that BEE said that Patrick Bateman was based on his father, which he later retracted, to say that he felt like he was more like Patrick Bateman and wrote that book from a place of intense depression and isolation and consumption. This third-eying of oneself through the lens of the father is so Theo to me.) It's an examination of a self-destructive person but feels so clearly written from the point of view of someone who loves them--there is a real tenderness in how Theo is rendered that makes me think that it is not directly autobiographical about DT's own life but is the record of someone else who is loved and who is grieved. I have no evidence of this, truly, but this is what I keep thinking.

Some random other thoughts: one thing that @attonitos-gloria and I have talked a lot about is how DT always writes from the point of view of men who desire other men but whose desire is so hidden and buried that it becomes warped and we think that this is fascinating. @.@ The women in both TSH cannot be held as whole people in the eye of the narrator, their wholeness exists but beyond the borders of the male narrators' understanding of them. I also love how DT loves places and loves things. She creates fantasias of real places that feel like they influence the narrative and I think that's really cool.

TL;DR: I thought TSH was better, but GF was more personal and thus more messy. But it won a Pulitzer so literally what do i know.

#anna is this what you wanted #i feel like i'm just screaming outside your door #the goldfinch #donna tartt #the secret history #thistle simulations

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tnbscans · 5 months

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Hiroaki Hirata, Masakazu Morita, Masayuki Ozaki UStream Special Digest Interview Part 1 (Tiger & Bunny TV)

Part 2 can be found here

The below is transcribed from the DVD release.

Ozaki: This is the first time we've had a discussion with the three of us, isn't it?

Morita: Yes.

Hirata: Yeah, it is.

Ozaki: What is your first encounter, or rather, impression of Tiger & Bunny?

Hirata: The screen showed more screens within, and then a lot of captions flashed by, and scenes changed… It was very busy. Ohta-san was reading his lines, and I couldn't follow it. I thought that I wouldn't be able to keep up. It moves very fast. I was very overwhelmed, but when Wild Tiger came out, I felt I could do it. I was a bit relieved.

Morita: You usually get reference material sent to your office for an audition, right? When I got it, I was told that it was for a foreign film.

Hirata: That's the kind of impression you get from it.

Ozaki: It must have been difficult for you to capture Barnaby's personality.

Morita: Yeah. Even after the rehearsal for the first episode, the director kept telling me "act colder, act colder." I wasn't quite sure how cold I should make him.

Ozaki: Hirata-san, did you struggle gauging your distance to Morita-san?

Hirata: Very much so. But compared to how much Bunnykazu-kun was struggling, mine wasn't as bad.

Ozaki: How was Kotetsu or Wild Tiger described to you?

Hirata: He seems irresponsible, but he still needs to show the difference, as an adult. I spent a lot of time thinking about how to differentiate him as the mature one, because he does stuf like take a silly photo of himself on Bunny's cellphone, and it's not something an adult would do at all. Right?

Ozaki: Yeah.

Hirata: He's thinking, "What? Who is this guy?" "What a weirdo. I have to team up with him?" But he doesn't totally shun him. He doesn't want to do it, but he does it anyway. It's the things he doesn't say… The fact that he can mentally switch gear, to do things that he doesn't want to… This must be what it means to be mature. That's how I felt way later.

Ozaki: I see.

Hirata: It's difficult.

Ozaki: There's a wide range of emotional spectrum within the 25 episodes.

Morita: It's like a roller coaster.

Hirata: Yeah, it is.

Morita: It's crazy.

Ozaki: It must be uneasy when that happens.

Morita: The way he acts in front of Kotetsu…The way he acts towards other Heroes and people…The way he acts towards his audience…And the way he acts when he's alone… There are four different Barnabys.

Ozaki: I see…

Hirata: Four different ones?

Morita: Yeah.

Hirata: That's amazing. I can't do that. I have a Kotetsu involving Kaede and a Kotetsu not involving Kaede. Just those two.

Ozaki: The way he acts with his family and the way he acts when he's not.

Hirata: He's either a doting father or he isn't.

Morita: There were some terrible gossips.

Ozaki: Yeah, at the beginning.

Morita: Before we started… More than I thought, people's focus was on the series being influenced by American comics. There was a rather negative impression in people…

Ozaki: It's not based on anything famous, either.

Morita: Yeah.

Hirata: It was a pretty bad start, wasn't it?

Morita: It was a terrible start. And then, its popularity skyrocketed. I was like, "See? It's great, right?"

Hirata: But you anticipated all of that, didn't you?

Ozaki: -Uhh…

Morita: -Aha!

Hirata: Like Bunnykazu-kun mentioned earlier, I knew it was great. But when it actually became crazy popular, none of us saw it coming. And we were all excited and grateful. None of us, except you. You said, "This was expected."

Ozaki: Yeah. I was certain that Tiger & Bunny would be a hit. I really believed it.

Morita: This series is aimed at middle-aged men who are fighting at the top right now. But when you look deeper, there are a lot of female fans. Naturally, there are a lot of male fans, but also female fans. Those young female fans are attracted to the Old Man. Just like this. Did you expect this?

Ozaki: Well, not really.

Morita: Did you expect it to be this popular with female fans?

Ozaki: That was unexpected.

Morita: Right?

Hirata: It took many years for me to get the title of Pirate Voice Actor.

Morita: Because you've done it for so long.

Hirata: Yeah. It took over ten years for me to be called that. And in three months, I became the Old Man Voice Actor. Three months! They kept calling me Old Man.

Morita: But when they call you that, it's meant as a term of endearment, with a little heart at the end.

Hirata: I would like that to be so.

Morita: This is new. Old men are back in fashion.

Ozaki: Yeah.

Hirata: That's part of Kotetsu's character. He's kind to women. For example, he doesn't understand Blue Rose's feelings. He's rather dense, but humble. And with his daughter, he's a doting parent. I think women find this endearing.

Ozaki: Were there any memorable events or happenings in the past year?

Morita: For me, that would be the Tiger & Bunny Hero Awards 2011 after the series ended.

Ozaki: We did that in November, right?

Morita: That was shocking, wasn't it? At the end, everyone in the audience got together and sang…

Ozaki: Yeah, when we did "Orion wo Nazoru."

Morita: And that happened at theaters across the country. I heard everyone cried. Some people tweeted that it was their first time crying at an event. To be honest, when it was over, I teared up as well.

Hirata: A live event was a first for me. But prior to that, we had another event to watch the final episode together.

Ozaki: Oh yeah, on the 17th of September.

Hirata: I thought that was nice, to be able to watch all the action on the big screen. Naturally, everyone in our theater was excited, but the fact that people were laughing and cheering in other places too made me feel like we were connected.

Ozaki: Connected and together with everyone. I think that's something symbolic of Tiger & Bunny.

#tiger & bunny #2012 #masayuki ozaki #hiroaki hirata #masakazu morita #interview #translated #dvd

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 1 year

Note

I would love to know the Pack’s reaction to Channie’s handcuff selca because I can only imagine how good they would be. Like he just sent it in the gc because he’s at an award show being recognized as an up and coming music producer. Like how could Noona and Han not be the “daddy? Sorry! Daddy?” Type

"Ohoho. You have no idea." You sit back, glaring at Chan pointedly, even as he sighs and refuses to meet your gaze. "Let's just drop the pictures you sent again, just for reference, shall we?"

"Oh my god." Jisung bites his fist-literally bites his fist-and makes an insanely lewd sound around his knuckles. "Hyung, seeing these again is bringing it all back."

"Oh my god." Chan repeats, but for an entirely different reason, as he stares up at the ceiling in abject hopelessness. "Do we really have to do this?"

"I dunno, hyung-" Hyunjin replies back tartly, eyes dark and intense as they pin down the squirming head alpha, pointing to the offending pictures once more. "-did you really have to do that?"

"It was an award show. I was feeling my outfit that night!" Chan protests, trying to defend himself, sounding slightly breathless as he rubs violently at his temples. "I thought you all would appreciate it!"

"Appreciate it?!" Jisung screeches, making Changbin jump in surprise beside him. He eyes the exasperated alpha beside you wildly. "Of course we appreciated it! We appreciated it so much that it threw everyone into absolute fucking chaos, hyung!"

Seungmin is nodding sagely. "I wasn't even home, but I could hear the screams from the lab."

"Oh my god." Chan repeats again, pinching the bridge of his nose now in a show of helpless exhaustion.

"I immediately saved those selfies, just so you know." Hyunjin says casually, keeping the head alpha locked in the focus of his sharp gaze. "Amazing jacking off material."

Jisung nods beside him in hearty agreement, the picture of utmost seriousness. "Incredible."

"Disgusting." Minho remarks, though there's no bite to his words, as he scrolls through his phone, as if he's not even the slightest bit interested in this conversation.

"Oh, you're one to talk, hyung." Jeongin speaks up, pointing an accusing finger at Minho, ignoring the murderous stare the other sends his way. "Convenient that you had to "shower" right after hyung sent those pictures. And what did you need Binnie-hyung for, hm? Couldn't open the shampoo bottle on your own?"

"Not another word, Yang Jeongin."

Jeongin smirks smugly and sits back in the couch, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Changbin shrugs. "Was a great night for me though. I'm not complaining."

"Dammit, and I wasn't invited?!" Jisung exclaims, clearly pouting.

"You were too busy spamming 'daddy?' messages in the group chat, so no."

"Fuck."

"But like-" You point to the photos again. "-Can we just talk about the handcuffs? Cause what the actual fuck was that, Christopher?"

Chan sighs and shrugs helplessly. "A design choice?"

"Between who?" Hyunjin scoffs, rolling his eyes, clearly skeptical. "You and the actual devil?"

"Or me and my bedposts." You suggest slyly, shooting Chan a smirk, even as the tips of his ears burn a bright red.

"Also the strategic rips?" Felix adds, his voice slightly hysterical. "Like, we all know that was on purpose. Same thing with the manspreading."

"God." Jisung swears low under his breath, eyes sweeping first over the pictures and then the head alpha in question hungrily. "The thighs, man. Makes me salivate just looking at them."

"I can't do this-" Chan sighs beneath his breath, making a move to rise from his chair.

You stop him with fingers around his wrist.

"No way, jose. You put us through this, you're gonna deal with the consequences of your actions. Sit your ass back down."

Chan sits, albeit reluctantly, gritting his teeth.

"Was fun to leave bruises all over those thighs, I'll be honest." Hyunjin remarks casually, but his gaze is predatory now. "Just as a little reminder, for the next time."

"Very fun." You agree, leaning over to tap your finger gently against Chan's very pink ear. "Where are those handcuffs, Channie? Do you know? Think you could find them?"

Chan swallows, hard enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

Hyunjin grins, baring his sharp teeth.

"Oh, I know right where they are."

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jessicas-pi · 9 months

Note

Some people kill their darlings. Me, personally? I mortify my blorbos. sounds like a very interesting fic that would probably vaporize me with secondhand embarrassment easily, so im very curious about it

YEEEHAAA

Okay okay so this scene, which I have temporarily dubbed In Which Tristan Steals Half A Letter And Mandalorian Sibling Rivalries Get A Little Violent, is from the very beginning of Paint Bombs, Pixie Cuts, And Elopement, and it is only the first of MANY increasingly mortifying situations!!

---

Sabine had been so distracted, she hadn’t realized she was no longer the only person in her library.

Tristan had breezed in, settled down in her abandoned spot on the lounge, and picked up the letter from Ezra.

“Hey! That’s personal!” she snapped, jumping up and snatching it from him.

Her brother looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

“What does that mean?”

Sabine stomped back over to her desk and sat down, pulling out a second sheet of paper. “It means that it’s my business, not yours.”

“As your older brother, I think it is my business. After all, you’ve been sending a concerning amount of letters to him, and you won’t let anyone else see his replies.”

“Because it’s personal,” she repeated, not bothering to explain that out of the last six letters she’d sent, he only bothered to reply to the last one, and not very nicely, either.

“Which is exactly why we’re all worried.” She hunched her shoulders and focused on writing.

She was a few paragraphs in when he spoke again. “And it looks like I was right to be worried, because this, little sister, is a pretty compromising letter.”

Sabine blinked, bewildered. “Compromising?” She turned around in her seat and let out a furious cry. That letter—it had had two pages, and Tristan must have let her only snatch the first page without her noticing, because he had the second one in his hand now. “Tristan!”

“Oh, yes, very compromising. I quote—” He held up the letter and read aloud. “It was so nice of you to use all those tender words in your last message to me—have you been writing love notes?”

What she had been writing was a horribly rude letter where she called Ezra every name she could think of, and he’d got sarcastic over it in his reply, which Tristan had to know because the next sentence of that letter was a few of those phrases quoted, but he was apparently being a very selective reader now.

So, Sabine didn’t explain, and just stood, clenching her jaw. “Give me that, and get out of my library.”

He just reclined on the lounge, grinning and kicking his feet up. “You know, I’ve had a few… ah… romantic escapades, in my time. I can be trusted with a secret. So confide in me. Exactly what sweet nothings have you been writing to your adoring Prince?”

“Give it to me and get out, Tristan!”

“Should I make some guesses?” Tristan asked, jumping to his feet to avoid the sofa pillow she hurled at him. Sabine followed him, advancing slowly, fists clenched. “I bet he sends you long letters about his earnest and eternal love, and you send him back coquettish garbage acting like you don’t understand anything he says, so he’ll say it to you again.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped, snatching at the sheet of paper that he held away from her.

“Oh, no, it happens all the time. I’ve fallen for it myself. I still have the letters I got from my old sweetheart when I was your age, if you need proof. Or reference materials for the next time you write—I’m sure the little minx wouldn’t mind you borrowing a few of her shameless hints for your own flirtation.”

“It’s not a flirtation!”

“My bad,” Tristan sang, dodging around a chair so it was between the two of them, and moving side to side in time with her to keep it that way. “But in my defense, I had no idea you and he were serious.”

“We’re not!”

“When did you two first get an understanding?”

“We don’t have one!”

“Now that I look back—this all started last summer, when we were in Jedha, didn’t it? He must have been trying to win your heart then, and I can only assume you strung him along for weeks like the sadistic little witch you are, before you gave in.”

She cursed at him, no longer cold from the drafty walls but so warm she felt like she was crawling out of her own skin. She didn’t know if it was from the excitement of finally getting the letter, the heat of the fire, or the flustered burning in her face, and she didn’t really care.

“I may regret asking this,” Tristan said without a trace of regret, whatsoever, at all, in a million years. “But how did ol’ Prince Di’kut manage to woo you? Did he act gallant and noble and play at courting you? Or was this a…” Tristan wiggled his eyebrows and leaned in to whisper, momentarily dropping his guard. “A passionate-midnight-meetings sort of affai—”

Sabine’s fist connected with his nose.

#thank you for the ask!!#and... yeah umm... sorry this took so long for me to answer. 😅#Turns out there was a minor continuity error in the snippet vs. the revised fic plot #and fixing it spiraled in a way somewhat similar to pulling a loose thread and then half the sweater unravels #HOWEVER the resulting multiple 2AM Overthinking Sessions did realign the plot splendidly and fixed the loose thread so. um. anyway.#star wars #star wars rebels #sabine wren #tristan wren #sabezra #star wars medieval au #fic snippet #fic sneak peek #i love writing characters teasing other characters so you can imagine i had a blast with this lol #dont worry about sabine and ezras fight here btw it's nothing serious for them #theyre just going through Teen Drama

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charmwasjess · 4 months

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27 and 29 for the ao3 wrapped game please)

THANK YOU @purple-ant!!! :D :D 29 favorite passage from this year

Of course my inclination is to give you something dramatic and juicy from an unpublished WIP but honestly? I shouldn't laugh so hard at my own penis jokes, but Dooku and Jocasta trying to pick out smutty poetry while (badly, awkwardly) also attempting to make up in the final chapter of Sitting is probably up there. Lol, her little 'fear for your chastity' line when you know she's absolutely already tapped that:

“I am looking for books of love poetry.”

“Love poetry?” Jocasta's eyebrows arched.

“Yes.”

“Is this your idea of a bizarre joke?”

“I am asking very much in earnest.” He wanted to point out that it had taken him a lot to even come here, but she could probably sense exactly how much herself.

“And you could not simply use the holonet?”

“Ah, I’m searching for specifically bad love poetry.” Dooku explained. “Notorious works containing flowery, over-the-top language, saccharine imagery, expected tropes.” He thought about it. “Actually, any truly appalling sexist material… objectifying the female form, outdated gender roles…that would be perfect.”

Jocasta opened her mouth and then closed it. Finally, she said, “I hadn’t taken you for such a romantic.”

“It is merely a gift for someone. A thank-you present.” When she continued to stare at him, he clarified, “I am not attempting to seduce anyone.”

“What an incredible relief. With such an effective technique as that, I was in terror for your chastity.” He watched her fingers fly over the datapad as she entered in a title. “And the intended recipient of this gift is… an enemy of yours?”

“A friend.” Dooku gave a weak smile. “A friend with remarkably poor taste in poetry.”

“Thoughtful.” She skimmed the datapad’s screen with her finger for a few moments. “Here. Aroylio Bogins’s seminal Strums of the Luscious Soul is apparently popular.” She expanded the sample page and read silently, winced, and then read aloud, “She knealth before the strings of my pert love-lyre / My lute clangeth to the song / of her tongue’s nimble ministry…”

“Oh no.” Dooku said faintly, covering his mouth with a hand.

“You said ‘truly appalling.’”

“…‘ministry’?” He repeated, still stricken, shaking his head. “Ah, perhaps something less explicit? I do not wish to give the wrong impression of my intentions.”

“Wise.” Jocasta typed a few more entries, then selected again. “What about the Mrryum Starflower volumes? Starflower is a pseudonym of a male author writing in the voice of an imagined teenaged shepherdess in the throes of…well, excruciating verse, but also love, I suppose.” She clicked through more information. “And, horrifyingly, the poems seem to be intended with teenage girls as the target audience, Force preserve them, so the content rating indicates they should be free of any, ah, clanging love-lyres.”

“Thank the pitiless stars for that.” Dooku murmured. “But Mrryum Starflower seems perfect for my purposes.”

“I sent the reference numbers to you. You’ll have to go out to a bookshop though. Those works aren’t in the Jedi Archives.” That seemed obvious since he was giving the books away as a gift, but Jocasta said it as a point of particular pride, as if she wanted him to know that she had deliberately purged such material from the collection. Maybe she had.

But I'm a self-indulgent brat at heart so here's a little dramatic WIP from an upcoming fic:

“Sy, that’s enough.” Dooku drew Sifo-Dyas’s hands away from scrabbling at the hatch. The door was mechanized; there was no way he could actually open it from the inside while the ship was in flight, but he did not seem to realize he was hurting himself in the attempt. Blood smeared the seam where he had tried to work his fingertips into the gap and pry it open. “Don't you see? We both just go out.” The seer’s eyes were entirely black from pupil to eyelid, as bright and wild as stars. He sounded almost euphoric. “It fixes everything!”

27 music I listen to while writing

What a fitting question from you in particular, considering I was lucky enough to snag you as a friend over a little chat about playlists! :D In that spirit, I have to share the playlist in question, my general Burning Stars Pure Idiot Vibes playlist. ❤️

#charm stuff #my writing

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noelle-holi-gay · 9 months

Note

Hey, I would've sent this earlier, but I just realized you have an ask box. I never really cared for reading fanfics, but Cold Case actually got me hooked! You mentioned there were other endings you had things for--will you reveal at least vague details at the end? And what's the deal with soul colors?

I'm super glad you're liking the fic!

I'm not quite sure what to do with my alternate ending ideas... I suppose at the very least I'll share the premises at the end in some form. Right now all I have written down are the titles and descriptions for each ending, but I have some vague ideas on how the 'player' would hypothetically reach some of the endings, and how they'd change the events of the fic.

Not quite sure what you mean by the 'deal with soul colors', but the system I'm using in Cold Case is based off the Undertale meanings of the souls: So, blue is integrity, orange is bravery, green is kindness, the whole shebang. This plays into how Detective Marigold, a Justice Soul, is based off the Yellow Fallen Human from Undertale, with the cowboy hat and the toy gun and all. But if you're talking about the lines of dialog / internal thought that Alexandra has been throwing around about the Golden Judge and shit, that's some small original worldbuilding I decided to throw in. This isn't really 'spoilers' because it isn't plot-relevant and I'm not sure how much I'm going to actually touch on, but just in case I'm going to stick it behind a read more.

So, when Alexandra mentions these grand titles, she's talking about the figures of worship for the religion she follows, Virtuism, which is the traditional human religion of this version of Deltarune. (Sort of like how the Church of the Angel is the traditional monster religion.) So basically, as a human from a human family, Alexandra was raised under the tenets of this religion, and still follows it fairly avidly.

Alexandra's religiousness is fairly important to her character motivations and flaws when I conceptualize her in my head, and I wanted to allude to that in the text -- thus were born these cryptic references to the Scarlet Monarch and shit.

The basics of Virtuism are that they worship seven Saints, which, similar to most real religious figures, are probably-real-but-heavily-mythologized ancient humans of the DR world. There's one for each soul color, and when a human is born of a particular soul color, the saint of the appropriate color is said to be their 'patron saint'. So, Alexandra's patron saint is the Golden Judge, or Lady Justice, or whatever title Alexandra feels like calling the yellow-souled saint at the time (as with most religious figures, all the saints have multiple monikers).

I'll be sprinkling in more on this and the other Saints as the fic goes on, but I honestly don't know how many I'll get to. I have one scene half-written a while from now that goes a little more explicitly into Virtuism, but other than that, you'll probably just see Alexandra throw some names around here and there.

Maybe I'll release some more thorough notes on the religion along with those alternate endings once the fic is up, though, who knows -- I tend to translate a lot of my headcanon material between otherwise-distinct fics (such as Kris's full name being 'Krismas' in pretty much all my fics), so I may end up reusing this human religion system in a future project.

Thanks for letting me ramble! See you in a week, by the way, for what's shaping up to be a very fun chapter...

#answers #cold case

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knighta3 · 2 months

Text

I got a rather scathing ask in response to something I said in the tags of a reblog a while ago. I couldn't really even remember what I said, so I had to look for it. I believe the person sent the ask, and then blocked me. Which is fine, whatever. What irritates me is how people draw such wild conclusions based off of two sentences.

I've been purposefully avoiding most everything on this site I can about the whole Israel-Palestine conflict. I've reblogged one, maybe two, things about it. I'm not tagging this because I don't want it easy to fine. I want it to be one and done. So if this is a topic you wish to avoid, you've had your warning.

The ask in question was referring to THIS post. With my tags in the following image.

And the "ask" in question:

The Palestinian people aren't collectively guilty of anything. Hamas is a terrorist group intent on ethnic cleansing. And Hamas' attack on Oct 7 was massively brutal. I've seen some very disturbing footage from it. There is no justification for slaughtering babies in cribs(or tossing them into ovens), or beheading someone(who is too injured to even weakly resist) with a dull hoe, or parading women's brutalized corpses for everyone else to spit on. I saw the footage, so nobody can convince me that didn't happen. Innocent Israelis were massacred. The deaths of innocents on either side is tragic, but there is a certain type of evil in such a hands-on manner of murder, as opposed to the detachment of sending bombs. Hamas enjoyed their rampage.

And Hamas believes it is the duty of every Palestinian to participate in Jihad, so they do not feel bad about using their own innocent people as cannon fodder. To them, it is just a sacrifice their people are obligated to make. And it works for them, because it makes Israel look bad. And Israel fell for it. The bombings clearly aren't helping, which is why I don't know how to feel about Israel's response.

The "Jewish government" has done nothing. Because that's not what it is. It's the Israeli government. And Israel wants to exterminate Hamas, because Hamas wants to eradicate Jews and Israel.

Hamas official, Hamad Al-Regeb in an April 2023 sermon: He prayed for “annihilation” and “paralysis” of the Jews whom he described as filthy animals: “[Allah] transformed them into filthy, ugly animals like apes and pigs because of the injustice and evil they had brought about.” Al-Regeb also prayed for the ability to “get to the necks of the Jews.”

Hamas is not interested in peace. And this is according to their officials as well as their own founding charter. They are certainly antisemitic. A cease fire from Israel wouldn't stop future Hamas attacks.

'[Peace] initiatives, and so-called peaceful solutions and international conferences are in contradiction to the principles of the Islamic Resistance Movement... Those conferences are no more than a means to appoint the infidels as arbitrators in the lands of Islam... There is no solution for the Palestinian problem except by Jihad. Initiatives, proposals and international conferences are but a waste of time, an exercise in futility.' (Article 13)

Can you really expect Israel to just let all this slide like they weren't just told, "We want to destroy you, and peace is not an option"? What are they supposed to do? Let Hamas slaughter them over and over again? Be driven out of their ancestral homeland(The area is sacred for both Jews and Muslims, and both have historic claim to it)?

You know, it's so ironic that the word genocide was coined because of the Holocaust, and Hamas is blaming Jews for everything like Hitler did.

'The enemies have been scheming for a long time ... and have accumulated huge and influential material wealth. With their money, they took control of the world media... With their money they stirred revolutions in various parts of the globe... They stood behind the French Revolution, the Communist Revolution and most of the revolutions we hear about... With their money they formed secret organizations - such as the Freemasons, Rotary Clubs and the Lions - which are spreading around the world, in order to destroy societies and carry out Zionist interests... They stood behind World War I ... and formed the League of Nations through which they could rule the world. They were behind World War II, through which they made huge financial gains... There is no war going on anywhere without them having their finger in it.' (Article 22)

You see, the difference between fiction and reality is that fiction generally has clear good guys and bad guys. There's the protagonist we root for, and the antagonist who is in the wrong, no matter how sympathetic they may or may not be. It is as clear cut as the author wants it to be. Reality is messy. Both sides say that they are justified in the atrocities they commit, so who decides which is truly in the wrong?

You can spin the narrative either way. Bend facts to make either side look good or bad. With Israel, I can at least understand how it can be justified as self defense. Hamas' Oct 7th attack cannot. That was pure slaughter. Ignoring the sheer brutality of Hamas and excusing that in "support" of Palestine is the blind devotion I was referring to. Hamas and Palestine seem to be referred to interchangeably, but they shouldn't be. Hamas is a terrorist group.

Calling me a hypocrite is a bold claim to make in response to two sentences that I said. It really seems like this person straw-manned an argument.

#i speak #i answer #a3 in the discourse

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unhinged-summer-fun · 2 years

Text

the intersection of all my pieces

Danktober 2022 Day 26: Petplay, Ego, Howl at the Moon Night

Puppy!Marcus Pike x GN!Reader (22+ only)

Summary: Marcus muses on the components of his psyche. Why does he like what he likes?

Word Count: 3341

Warnings: Pet play, primal play (kinda), nudity, introspection which leads to emotional angst and hurt/comfort, psychological analysis.

Notes: the id, ego, and superego are terms used popularly in Freudian psychoanalytic theory. The id refers to your instincts, your most primal self. The superego refers to your morality and character, specifically when interacting with others. The ego is the combination of both, and controls how you see and experience your reality.

[full danktober list here]

[puppy marcus pike list here]

"Let me tell you, Pike, I'm kinda known for being the alpha dog wherever I go, I'll make sure you won't get picked on, pretty face like you."

Marcus immediately hated the man. Part of him wanted to flex the petty knowledge in his mind, that the "alpha wolf" theory was disproved over two decades ago and the scientist who'd fabricated the study had very quickly resigned in shame. He wanted to explain the true loyalties of a dog, the realities of pack behavior, what was done to the cruel and violent in most animal groups, and how they didn't exactly fit in a professional office environment full of fleshy, emotional humans. He wanted to say all of this, but the man just kept talking.

The new guy, Special Agent Benson, reeked of the kind of attitude Marcus never willingly stayed in the same breathing space as for long: self-serving, stereotyping, discriminatory, probably inflated with grandeur and pure id, though this buffoon would have probably just credited his ego as the feather in his hat.

Perhaps Supervisory Special Agent Marcus Pike was being a bit unfair, though.. He shouldn't have expected men like this to have offhand knowledge of Freudian psychology, besides being an exhibit-A motherfucker.

It was a strange but disappointing set of circumstances that had brought Benson to the International Art Crimes team. Some difficult-to-follow file filled with prior disciplinary measures from the Terrorist Screening Division and an itemized, dated, and collated collection of infraction records sent by the Office of Personnel Security sat on Marcus' desk just beneath his interlaced fingers, though he didn't really need to read it to understand that Marcus' division had been chosen as the last resort for this man's FBI career. Those same fingers were tightened into an uncomfortable grip, white-knuckled and both holding back the remarks Marcus was waiting to spit.

The situation annoyed him, but he was familiar with the steps he needed to take to dance around it. He knew that art just wasn't important to men like this. It required compassion and thought and the acceptance of devastation when following a lead to nothing but the shattered remains of centuries-old indigenous material history. Things had been getting better in the last few months, though. Activity had been picking up here and there, and they'd been granted almost twice the budget as last year, which allowed them to pursue the cases of items that had been collecting dust in the National Stolen Art File. The bottom line was this: he had cases to investigate and prosecute, millions of dollars worth of art in the basement gallery to trace provenance on and return, a team of 60 agents and bureau liaisons with the Smithsonian, and three oddly charming (or was it charmingly odd?) interns to oversee. He didn't need Agent Benson trying to herd him like a sheep dog in his own territory.

But that was a line of thinking best left at home, in the lockbox holding all the costume pieces and toys he liked best.

Almost as if you were thinking of him, his phone buzzed with a message, and he set it down on his face for now. Not even your contact photo had to see the dressing-down he was about to give Benson.

Your waiting message made the rest of the painfully awkward transfer interview a little more bearable. By the time the officially-demoted Agent Benson left Marcus' office with his tail between his legs and his head held a little less high than before, Marcus felt his authority weigh heavy across his shoulders like a yoke. Benson wouldn't be a problem, he thought to himself. If he proved otherwise, I'll make sure he doesn't have another second-chance. The thought chilled him. It was cutthroat decisions like these that drove some SSAs to keep booze in their desks, but Marcus' vices stayed at home and were only given by your hands.

Right, the message.

He shut the door and sat for a moment in the blessed silence he normally took for granted in his office, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he tapped open your message. It took a while to scroll through the wall of text and photos and links and travel information, but Marcus really preferred getting all the necessary information at once while he was at work. The odd and charming interns (he'd decided that they were both) tended to message him one - word - at - a - time, and often not getting to the point for several rounds of back-and-forth.

That was a bit of a lie, implying he didn't like clipped orders and a need-to-know attitude. He just preferred them when he wasn't wearing a tie and shirt stays.

You'd sent him information about a proposed evening camping in the woods, about an hours' drive east and another hours' hike up a mountain with a Class-1.5 Bortle Scale rating. You'd been getting very into dark-sky sites since you first heard of them during a date to the planetarium, and what with the full moon being tonight, and your close-up selfie of you making pleading puppy-dog eyes, Marcus could only smile to himself and reply with an affirmative.

The consistent staccato buzz in his pocket kept him company the rest of the workday, reminders of your excitement sitting against his hip. He tried not to think about what awaited him out in the wild, but it gave him something to look forward to for the next few hours.

He had one last meeting in the office, a conference call with some analysts out in Quantico. When he got on the call, the stoic faces that greeted him pulled a forced smile from his mouth. These analysts sometimes gave him the heeby-jeebies, speaking about their accomplishments in ways that completely separated their involvement from the effort. He used to feel that way in the Academy, and before then in college. There was mindfulness, and then there was whatever the hell this kind of self-critical affect was.

In response, he found himself playing up the happy-go-lucky Marcus Pike that he tended to have a reputation for in the Bureau. It didn't look like his plan was working too well, but when he made one of the analysts crack a smile and admit that they spent a lot of time working on their data compilation program, he took it as a small victory.

The polar opposites of those two strange interactions, Benson and the Quantico analysts, left Marcus in a contemplative mood. His therapist suggested to him that keeping track of his thoughts would help to better notice patterns of behavior that could be influential over time, and that scared him. He'd taken it as, did you know you and your brain are the only two things responsible for your sadness, control issues, impulsive decision-making, and the fact you don't know that is making those things worse? He'd suspected for a long while that his problems were his own doing, but what felt even worse was the acknowledgment to accept the fact, and rationalize the clueless disaster he'd been before, traipsing around Austin with a woman who screamed 'unavailable.'

He remained trapped in this melancholic holding pattern when he arrived at the apartment, pulling into his usual space and catching a glimpse of you packing up the hatchback. Months and months ago, after you'd both moved into this apartment together, free of any notions of attachment or territory, he would have still worried at the motion of you packing up alone while he was gone, assuming the worst. Now, he just greeted you by name and walked closer. "Need some help? I hope you didn't do all this by yourself."

You gave him a look that said I'm more than capable of opening doors, crossing streets, and opening the pickle jar by myself, Marcus, but broke into a smile that had his darker thoughts running for the hills. "There's just your things, figured you'd want to take them down yourself anyway."

The darker glint in your eyes, the promise of play later on, twisted pleasantly in Marcus' gut, and he felt his mouth water on instinct. The reminder of the camping gear only added to the fantasy. Call him cliché for saying it, but he loved playing outside when he was in his puppy-space. His heart raced excitedly at the thought of sinking down into that bliss beneath the stars, under the light of a full moon. By the smirk forming on the corners of your mouth, you knew this too, and had most likely factored all of that into planning this.

God, you must have planned this for weeks. He used to be saddened by your keeping of plans from him, used to let it curdle into insecure panic, but you knew Marcus loved surprises and often spoiled them for himself by accident. It's almost like you want to ruin surprises for yourself, Marcus' superego whispered. The words had disappeared like letters written in sand whenever your hand rested on the back of his neck. The effect was instantaneous, his eyes snapping to look at your mouth and his thoughts stilling, ready and awaiting orders.

"Go upstairs and shower. Change into what I set out for you and check over your box. If there's anything you want to bring with us, pick it out. Other than that, when you come back, we're hitting the road."

Marcus dashed up the steps like a man possessed, too restless and full of energy to wait for an elevator, to remember what an elevator was. His shower was messy, water flying all over and his hair left in a wet mop on his head that would dry in the car. The clothes you'd set out were just normal outdoorsy clothes, but you knew how much Marcus liked to run around in those shorts, that those shoes would let him feel the forest floor beneath his feet, the shirt could be replaced if it got too dirty or grimy. Make a mess, his mind urged, the id pressuring him to feel that primal connection to himself that he denied so staunchly during the day.

He hardly had to look into the box to know you'd chosen all his favorite toys and treats for the trip. The puppy-box was normally kept locked up and on the opposite end of the apartment from his gun safe. The two of you hardly ever took it out of the house except on extended vacations or work trips.

So this was exciting.

He locked the door after trying to get the key in for twenty seconds, his hands shaking with excitement. As soon as the bolt slid home, he was off to the races once more, a bright smile on his face that never left when he was around you. You were behind the wheel and picking out music when he came down, carefully placing his box in the footwell of the second row before taking the passenger seat.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

His past relationships never seemed to understand Marcus' need to drive. Marcus was able to stay fully-focused and on-task when he was behind the wheel. It stemmed from a sense of duty to ensure the safety of himself, his loved ones, and the others out on the road with him. Whenever he sat in the passenger seat, things were much, much different.

He knew the route to the highway out of D.C. fairly well, but there was a detour you had to take. Just before the on-ramp, he saw why: there was a farmers' market set up in one of the cross-streets. Marcus gasped when he saw all the bright colors of the tents and tarps, felt the vibrations that came from the faraway live music, and so many people enjoying themselves in the sunshine. "Look at that…" he whispered in awe.

He could never control his reactions to things that caught his eye whenever he sat in the passenger seat. Everything, every single thing, was just as (and more!) exciting than the last. You didn't chide him for the reasons he'd been scolded for before:

"You could have scared me off the road!"

"Could you stop talking for just five minutes? It's a three hour drive."

"Roll the window up, you're not an animal."

"Why don't you want to talk to me? You just keep pointing out the scenery."

Instead, you encouraged that playful, carefree behavior. It didn't hurt you, and it only made him happy.

"Hopefully it'll still be there when we come back tomorrow," you said, slowly driving forward away from the market. "You wanna check it out if it is?"

"Yes of course, remember the peaches we got at the farmer's market last August?"

"You have literally brought up those peaches whenever you can, almost as much as I have." He didn't have to see you to know you were smiling, he didn't have to wonder if you meant it. He was never unsure that you loved all his quirks and needs and preferences, because you promised to share that same trust with him.

The campgrounds were at the base of the mountain, with your reserved space sitting four miles up the trail. He waved to some of the groundskeepers talking to one another at the gatehouse, who then waved back, amused by his outgoing friendliness. Not a lot of people who come from the city tend to be as friendly when their cell service sputters out, he assumed they were thinking.

Marcus ended up carrying a greater amount of the supplies than you for the trek. He relished the burn in his calves and thighs, because it sated the frenetic thoughts buzzing around his skull from the strange day. You'd ask about it after catching your breath at the campsite.

He used to be highly regimented at the gym, needing to burn a specific amount of calories in a day just to feel like he could control his strangeness. He was still definitely in shape, but now he had a healthier, happier outlet that he could share with someone he loved.

The sun still shone brightly in the afternoon sky when you reached the trail that branched into the woods, leading to your designated campsite. It helped as you set up the tent and cooking area while he gathered firewood and cleared the ground of any pesky rocks or sticks. The forest was lively and green, a gentle breeze brushing against the top canopy that had him sighing in satisfaction. He loved art for the same reasons he loved everything: there was something for everyone, and he hoped everyone found that someday.

Looking back at you, he knew he did.

"Hey, let's talk about the plan for tonight."

"Alright."

"What's worrying you right now?"

"This has an AirTag in it, do not take it off." Your instructions were firm, quieting his mind and removing the weight of his worries as he sat at your feet, nearly naked. He looked like a piece of art in the half-moonlight, the other half of him lit by the small campfire that would keep you company tonight. The collar slipped around his neck, heavy and well-made. He preferred the distributed, heavy weight, for it served as a reminder that he didn't carry anything else with him in this headspace. "Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Good," you said, kissing his head before securing his little ears to the messy tresses atop his head. You used a truly obscene amount of bobby pins and clips, but had chosen a pair Marcus wasn't particularly attached to. You knew that Marcus could get a little rougher in his playtime outside, and things might get lost in the underbrush. He gave a short shake of his head to test their hold.

You attached a belt bag around his torso that held a short-wave radio in case he needed to call you, a protein bar, a water bottle, his phone, and a small first-aid kit. "There have been no dangerous animal sightings out in the woods all week, they think there may have been a fallen tree or something that blocked whatever natural bridge they normally use to get around the mountain. It'll just be you and the birds out there, probably." You knew he didn't need all this information while he was in a simplified headspace, but you wanted him to at least know subconsciously that there were no monsters lurking in the woods with him. The trail awaited, and you stepped away from his path.

"Thank you," he said suddenly, voice thick with emotion that had bubbled up in seconds. His temperament was little to none in his puppy-space, so he felt everything, all the time, and it was okay. "Thank you."

You looked nothing but happy for him as you kissed him softly. You followed it up with a short tug on the O-ring on his collar, pulling a wanton groan from his mouth. His eyes went a little hazy before refocusing at the sound of the clicker in your hand.

"When the radio says come back, take out your phone and follow the beacon back immediately. Immediately."

"Immediately."

"Immediately, Marcus."

"I promise."

"I know you do. Here's your flashlight. Go have fun, pup."

Marcus stopped sprinting through the trees when he felt his thoughts go from the familiar happy, instinctual assessment of his surroundings to somber recollections of the day. He shook his head hard and grounded himself back in the moment, back in the scene he had with himself.

No reason to bring that in here with me. No beasts but I.

His eyes caught on a moonbeam breaking through the treetops, pointing toward a rock ledge that held the vantage for a perfect view over most of the mountain. He climbed up it, letting his interests pull him back from whatever was pulling him away.

The moon was high, full and bright and almost tinted crystal blue, it was so clear. A part of him thought about how happy he was for you, happy that the night had come in dressed to the nines just for you. There wasn't a cloud above him, despite the cool air. Something about the moon's appearance had him falling to his knees and leaning back on his heels just to look up at it in awe. It was a good time for a rest, anyway.

Maybe his life wasn't meant for arguing the sins and virtues of actively choosing joy for oneself. Maybe he was allowed to see where to choose to be more compassionate and mindful, and not let expectations dictate his character. Maybe Marcus was avoiding the mental homework surrounding his thought patterns because the answer seemed too simple to be true: he'd accepted that he was finally, perfectly fine.

A sob broke out from his chest, loud and raw. His lunar audience watched dutifully as tears streamed down his face, his cries echoing and fading into the nature around him. He was alone but never lonely. He was fine company to keep. He would have never gained this kind of confidence had you not showed him that he was worth being proud of, and he would have never dreamed that he could find someone he trusted enough to choose joy around.

His cries grew into laughter, a signal of acceptance of his ridiculous happiness. The tears remained, wetting the fabric of his shirt, his pants, seeping in beneath the leather of his collar. Nothing but gratitude radiated from his soul, and it warmed him from his bones to his skin and beyond. The ache in his throat felt amazing, almost holy, and with a bubbling of pride and primal instinct, Marcus howled at the moon.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but his voice was gone by the time he heard the radio crackle to life, your voice coming down the line. "Time to come back, pup."

Marcus smiled, and returned back to where he belonged: by your side.

#puppy marcus #marcus pike x reader #gn!reader #unhingery #danktober 2022 #pedro pascal fanfiction

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 2 years

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Why have you been posting stuff from Matt Walsh lately? Isn't he one of those conservative idiots mad at the world for having gays and Trans people in it or whatever, or am I misinformed? I assume you just agree with those few specific things he said, but what's your opinion on him overall?

To be honest, I never really knew who he was. I'd heard his name around, but wasn't sure who he was or what he does.

I have no affinity with nor allegiance to him, and I suspect we would disagree on very many topics. However, in the current climate of terror and vacuum of honesty on the topic, it seems it's up to the conservatives to make this sort of film. And I appreciate him for doing that and for making it such an easily accessible argument.

Having watched it, I saw very little of his politics in it. He came informed, but he asked sincere questions. When the person responded, he asked for them to clarify or elaborate, and that usually was enough to reveal the problem. Basically, the Socratic method. Which anyone can use. Most of the ideologues in it had clearly never been probed or really questioned about the meaning of what they were saying, and either got tangled up or offended that anyone would question them. Obviously it was edited down from longer form interviews into a 90-ish minute film, but that's going to be true for any such production.

I haven't dug into Matt's specific views on many topics. Partly because he's a shit-stirrer, which itself I kind of appreciate, but it makes it harder to glean from his Twitter feed what he thinks vs what he's saying to make a point.

For what it's worth, I've found that most conservatives, other than the really fundie Xian types, don't give a shit about whether you're gay or trans (I mean, actually trans, with GID, not the "girls who don't like pink are boys or something else" kind). For example:

https://www.advocate.com/law/2022/6/09/homosexuality-voted-be-struck-pennsylvanias-criminal-code

Pennsylvania’s House of Representatives unanimously voted Wednesday to strike the word “homosexuality” from the state’s criminal code, where it had been listed in the definition of prohibited sex acts. Supporters say said the word doesn’t belong since being gay isn’t a crime, according to the Associated Press. “This bill provides a long-overdue update to our crimes code to ensure nobody is prosecuted because of who they love,” said state Rep. Todd Stephens, a Republican who also introduced the bill. “Eliminating this archaic language will also help promote a culture of acceptance and inclusion for our LGBTQ community across Pennsylvania.” Stephens had first introduced the bill last year, according to Patch. Pennsylvania’s law against sex work defines sexual activity so that it references “homosexual and other deviate sexual relations.” The new definition that has been sent to the state’s Senate now reads “includes sexual intercourse and deviate sexual intercourse ... and any touching on the sexual or other intimate parts of an individual for the purpose of gratifying sexual desire of either person,” according to the AP. “Homosexuality” was also struck from the definition of sexual conduct, the news wire reports, in a section covering “obscene and other sexual materials and performances.” “In this General Assembly, sadly, it’s a huge lift to merely agree that being gay shouldn’t be illegal,” Democratic Rep. Dan Frankel said.

Frankel urged lawmakers to go further and pass antidiscrimination legislation protecting LGBTQ+ people.

https://www.reuters.com/article/us-usa-lgbt-poll/most-republicans-support-same-sex-marriage-for-first-time-gallup-idUSKCN2DL294

LONDON (Thomson Reuters Foundation) - A majority of Republicans in the United States support same-sex marriage for the first time, a Gallup poll found on Wednesday, with a record 70% of all respondents backing gay weddings. The research shows a significant increase in approval of same-sex marriage since 2015, when it was legalised nationwide following a Supreme Court ruling and 60% of Americans told Gallup they were in favour of gay marriage.

The idea that conservatives are, by default, anti-LGBT people isn't any more true than that progressives are all pro-Choice.

https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2020/06/18/three-in-ten-or-more-democrats-and-republicans-dont-agree-with-their-party-on-abortion/

Overall, roughly one-third of Americans who identify as Republican or as Republican-leaning independents do not agree with their party on abortion (35%), including 12% who say they agree with the Democratic Party on abortion and 23% who say they do not agree with either party. Among Democrats and Democratic-leaning independents, three-in-ten do not agree with their party on abortion, including 7% who say they agree with the GOP and 22% who say they don’t agree with either party.

We also need to note how some of the most vicious homophobia is currently coming from supposedly "progressive" people, in what's being dubbed "Homophobia 2.0" - an intolerance for homosexual people to be attracted to people of the same ("homo") sex. And erasure even by the LGBT groups that pretend to serve them. Which isn't to say that conservatives are better than progressives, but that it isn't that black and white.

I've said before that driving a car requires using both pedals. If you keep your foot on the brake, you never go anywhere. If you floor it, you're going to go careening off a cliff. In a functional liberal society, all ideas get a chance, but not all ideas survive. The US and other countries need sane, liberal progressive and conservative wings to provide those healthy, competing forces. Which right now they seem to be lacking.

I have no allegiance to either, so I can agree with Matt, or find value in what he's saying on a topic without pain or discomfort, and disagree with him on other things, particularly his Catholicism, or, say, if he opposes LGBT adoption, for example.

Similarly, many Xians and I can both agree that Islam is a threat; some of them have a secular view, others object to Islam because it threatens their desire to Xianize everything. But it means that David Wood of Acts17Apologetics can have a point about what the quran and hadith say that makes Islam false. And I can roll my eyes and have trouble taking him seriously that he doesn't spot the same problems in his own superstitions.

The rejection of a valid argument or point based on who it originates from is itself a fallacy.

https://yourlogicalfallacyis.com/genetic

genetic You judged something as either good or bad on the basis of where it comes from, or from whom it came. This fallacy avoids the argument by shifting focus onto something's or someone's origins. It's similar to an ad hominem fallacy in that it leverages existing negative perceptions to make someone's argument look bad, without actually presenting a case for why the argument itself lacks merit.

As I say, I don't know much about him, so don't have a strong opinion of him. I don't know that we would agree on much, and I don't know that we could even be "friends." But I don't hate the fact he exists - when progressives are being idiots, there should be people to mock and validly show them up, just as there should be the same for when conservatives are being idiots.

The most important thing is whether or not the point is justified.

#ask #Matt Walsh #What is a Woman #conservative #progressive #religion is a mental illness

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aboutanancientenquiry · 1 year

Text

Some remarks on a text about Herodotus and his Egyptian sources circulating on this site

An internet friend of mine sent me privately the following text, which circulates in some egyptological quarters of tumblr as proof of the “unreliability” of Herodotus’ sources in Egypt and, therefore, of Herodotus himself as historian, and asked me for some comments on it. So, first of all let us enjoy this piece of excellent wisdom:

“I can't believe I'm going to do this. Who wants a presentation on Herodotus' sources for Book 2 (the Egypt book)? It was given by PhD student Alex Tarbet for the Herodotus Helpline and it's 46 minutes long. Folks, this is a scholar who is explicitly arguing that Herodotus' Egyptian sources can not be trusted for factual information on the lives of the Pharaohs. The specific topic is how the stories of the Pharaohs appear to be humorous "Tourist Trap" stories rather than factual narratives from reputable, educated sources. And that the "priests" Herodotus talked to might not have been real priests. While Tarbet is clearly fond of Herodotus, he is also critical of the source material (he also straight up calls Herodotus a tourist). This is an attitude that more people need to have.

“It’s very possible that if Herodotus asked to talk to a priest he could have gotten somebody with a little bit of attitude, a little bit of salt, drawing on these popular traditions. It’s like if someone wandered around Italy asking to talk to the Pope and the locals instead said things like, ‘I’m the Pope,’ or they drew upon all these jokes about the Pope’s hat that they knew, and in some ways it was a way of brushing off a tourist. This is the sort of thing that happens at a festival along the Nile, you get all sorts of interactions between people, and Herodotus had a kindof difficult time figuring out when people were just joking with him or they were telling him true facts.”

In other words, sure, you can learn stuff from The Histories, but only if you remember and accept that it's not all true, and that you can't just trust it and accept it at face value, especially the Egypt part. You know...the thing the Egyptologists have been trying to hammer into people's heads for a couple of years now.

(My stance on Herodotus remains unchanged, and now has another scholar to back it up.)”

I remind that I have posted some days ago Alex Tarbet’s video from the youtube channel of Herodotus Helpline with some first observations on it ( https://aboutanancientenquiry.tumblr.com/post/701207851115462656/in-this-talk-from-the-2022-23-edition-of-the).

And now my remarks on the text that has been sent to me and I have reproduced above:

1/ There is no comparison between Tarbet’s views on Herodotus and those of the group of tumblr egyptologists on the same topic, contrary to what the author of the text rather disingenuously claims. Tarbet’s approach has its merits and flaws (more about this later), but his main point is that Herodotus preserves genuine Egyptian popular traditions and, therefore, Herodotus’ Book II (on Egypt) is for him of great value. On the contrary, the tumblr egyptologists claim that Herodotus’ work about Egypt is totally wrong and worthless, an aggregate of lies and fabrications, and the main sourse of misconceptions about ancient Egypt (I omit here any further reference to the other antics of the same group of people).

Moreover, contrary to what the author of the same text claims, Tarbet does not say anything about the existence or not of Egyptian “reputable, educated sources’ that Herodotus should have contacted but he didn’t. In other words, Tarbet says nothing about the histrorical consciousness of the Egyptian intellectual elites of the time of Herodotus’ visit to Egypt and on whether these elites had or not solid historical knowledge of the past of Egypt that they could convey to Herodotus. But more about this later.

2/ Now, to clarify things, most of the stories to which Tarbet refers belong to the part of Book II of Herodotus’ Histories (2.99 to 2.151) having as subject the pre-Saite period of Egypt (before 664 BCE). And of course this is the most problematic part of Book II, because, if each period of the Egyptian history is represented in it (with the exception of the Hyksos) and what the Pharaohs do according to it corresponds to the traditional functions of the Egyptian kingship (see A.B. Lloyd in “A Commentary on Herodotus Books I-IV” of Asheri-Lloyd-Corcella, p. 238), it contains also many tales but also some important factual errors. On the contrary, Herodotus’ account of the Saite period (2.152 to 2.182) is much more solid and a main source for that period, and of course the geographical part of the same Book (2.4 to 2.34) is very interesting as proto-scientific approach and its ethnographical part (2.35 to 2.98) contains much accurate and useful information. So, no one claims that we should take at face value the story of Pheros or of Rhampsinitos, as the author of the text sent to me foolishly insinuates.

But what is more important is that Herodotus himself is aware of the problematic character of what his Egyptian sources (the priests) told him about the pre-Saite Egypt. Thus, he warns us that (translation A. D. Godley):

(2.99,1, 2): So far, all I have said is the record of my own autopsy and judgment and inquiry. Henceforth I will record Egyptian chronicles, according to what I have heard, adding something of what I myself have seen. The priests told me..,

And he continues with the story of Min, the first Pharaoh. And again:

(2.123,1): These Egyptian stories are for the use of whosoever believes such tales: for myself, it is my rule throughout this history that I record whatever is told me as I have heard it.

And again, explaining that with the reign of Psammetichos I (the founder of the Saite dynasty) and the settlement of Greeks and Carians to Egypt there are not only Egyptian, but also foreign sources on the Egyptian history and there was thus for the Greeks the opportunity of a much better knowledge of the history of Egypt under the Saite rulers:

(2.147,1): Thus far I have recorded what the Egyptians themselves say. I will now relate what is recorded alike by Egyptians and foreigners to have happened in that land, and I will add thereto something of what I myself have seen.

(2.154): The Ionians and Carians who had helped him to conquer were given by Psammetichus places to dwell in called The Camps, opposite to each other on either side of the Nile; and besides this he paid them all that he had promised. Moreover he put Egyptian boys in their hands to be taught the Greek tongue; these, learning Greek, were the ancestors of the Egyptian interpreters. The Ionians and Carians dwelt a long time in these places, which are near the sea, on the arm of the Nile called the Pelusian, a little way below the town of Bubastis. Long afterwards, king Amasis removed them thence and settled them at Memphis, to be his guard against the Egyptians. It comes of our intercourse with these settlers in Egypt (who were the first men of alien speech to settle in that country) that we Greeks have exact knowledge of the history of Egypt from the reign of Psammetichus onwards. There still remained till my time, in the places whence the Ionians and Carians were removed, the landing engines of their ships and the ruins of their houses.

So, Herodotus, far from being some kind of naive fool, has some very clear and innovative ideas about the methods and tools of collection and evaluation of information. Moreover, he is fully aware of the fact (and warns about it his readers) that what his Egyptian informants told him about the pre-Saite period should not be taken at face value as representation of the historical reality. Herodotus records, however, these stories because this was the material that he managed to collect about the pre-Saite Egyptian history and because he judged that this material deserved to be preserved, as it came from the Egyptians themselves.

3 / Now, again about Alex Tarbet and Herodotus, as I said above I find that Tarbet’s approach on Herodotus and Egypt has merits but also flaws. Tarbet (a PhD candidate in Classics at the University of Michigan) presents his project like this (https://lsa.umich.edu/humanities/people/2022-23-fellows/alex-tarbet.html ):

Ancient Egyptians had rich and complex humor traditions long before Greeks set foot in Africa. In the 5th century BCE, a few of their jokes, anecdotes, tales, and histories were picked up by the Greek tourist Herodotus as he traveled down the Nile. Herodotus met and listened to local storytellers in relaxed settings, and so preserved a bundle of playful and humorous African oral folk performances for his Greek democratic audience. My project imagines that transmission: a local world of brilliant Egyptian folk storytellers engaging with an audience of foreign travelers, tourists, and inquirers, through whom some of their lore passed around the Mediterranean. Humorous and even obscene critiques of authoritarians or tyrants tend to travel easily across languages, identities, and ethnicities, as expressions of popular resistance from below. Drawing on modern Arab and North African folk traditions by analogy, I explore the way ancient Egyptian popular commentaries on matters like power, gender, and colonialism passed obliquely into Greek democratic prose.

What I find valuable in Tarbet’s approach is his effort to show the influence of the Egyptian popular tradition on Herodotus, but also the existence and importance of an Egyptian folk humoristic tradition, often at the expense of rulers. And of course in some cases (for example the tale of Rhampsinitos and the clever thief) this approach seems totally valid.

On the other hand, what I find objectable in his approach is first of all his rather schematic and simplistic considerations in his video on the Greek philosophers and their views. More particularly concerning Herodotus, Tarbet approaches Herodotus’ interactions with the Egyptians exclusively from the angle of the Egyptian humoristic folk tradition and of jokes (or even pranks) performed by the Egyptians for or at the expense of foreigners. But I think that it should be obvious that most things Herodotus heard in Egypt were not just expression of humor and that most tales circulating in Egypt in Herodotus’ time were not perceived just as humoristic fiction by those who told and heard them. I think also that it is obvious that having fun could not have been the only motivation in the Egyptian attitudes toward foreigners and that the desire to impress the latter, but also curiosity and in some cases willingness for some genuine and serious interaction with them must have played at least some role in these attitudes. With Tarbet we have often the image of joyful Egyptians constantly joking, something which rather contrasts with what we know about the period of Herodotus’ visit to Egypt (which very probably must have taken place somewhere in the late 440′s BCE), a period of oppressive foreign (Persian) rule. And in some places his approach veers toward clichés of the type “the clever Egyptians made fun at the expense of stupid Greek tourists”.

Moreover, some of the tales Tarbet invokes are not so humoristic: thus, the story of Pheros has an important aspect of misogyny in it (the theme that most women are unfaithful), but also an aspect of horror (the Pharaoh has in the end the unfaithful women burnt alive, something very probably seen as a just punishment by Herodotus’ Egyptian source which told him this version of the story). And, to my knowledge, Tarbet is the only scholar who sees the story of the linguistic experiment of Psammetichos as humoristic or expressing a criticism toward this Pharaoh.

Of course I disagree with Tarbet’s statement in his video and texts that Herodotus was a “tourist”. Tarbet presents Herodotus as a “tourist” because this is convenient for his thesis about the influence of an Egyptian folk humor tradition on more or less naive Greek “tourists” (a characterization which, moreover, is rather anachronistic). However, if it is true that Herodotus went to Egypt for a brief period of time (perhaps half a year), his purpose was undoubtedly scholarly, not that of a tourist. And we should not forget that, despite all the evident flaws of the Book II on Egypt from a modern perspective, as the preeminent Egyptologist Barry Kerry puts it:

“In the history of the objective study of the human society he [ my- aboutanancientenquiry’s-note : Herodotus] represents a milestone (there is absolutely nothing like his narrative from ancient Egypt before his day)…Herodotus “History” contains by far the earliest eyewitness account of life in ancient Egypt written by an outsider for the benefit of his own people and should be treasured for that“ (Barry Kemp Egypt-Anatomy of a Civilization).

4/ Did Herodotus talk to “real” Egyptian priests, as he claims?

Tarbet disbelieves that Herodotus talked to real Egyptian priests, in the sense of the permanent staff of the temples and of the religious and intellectual elite of Egypt. As he explains (https://antigonejournal.com/2021/10/egyptian-cats-greek-curiosity/ ):

Temples had thousands of personnel, from groundskeepers to cooks to guards to the high priest himself. Many of these had seasonal priesthoods only for three or four months of the year with temporary prestige and pay. Perhaps Herodotus had a brief encounter with a farmer, merchant, craftsman, local guide, tourist-trapper, traveling bard, streetside raconteur – any of them a ‘priest’ only part of the year.

When someone, say, a metalworker or fishmonger, worked in a temple for a few months as a priest, creative lore from his daily home life could easily trickle in with him. Fresh stuff sourced from the family household: children’s tales, fables, rumors, jokes, myths, news, gossip, insults, spells, problems with the neighbor’s cats – you name it. And then it trickled out. Herodotus could have heard anything anywhere.

But, although I like his description of the life in an Egyptian temple, I don’t think that Tarbet’s reasoning is solid here. Herodotus was not a naive and foolish “tourist’, but a man with intelligence and vast experience of the world. And I think that even an average person with some experience of life could tell the difference between on the one hand a real priest with permanent office and on the other hand manual workers who were temporary ‘priests”, in the sense of the auxiliary personel of the temples. I say this because I think that the quality of a person as elite or subordinate in the Antiquity could be perceived rather easily through their clothes, adornment, and body language, but also because the manual workers-temporary priests of the Egyptian temples obviously performed their tasks as manual workers, something that Herodotus or any other visitor would have perceived immediately. Moreover, I don’t think that Herodotus would have arrived at least at Memphis and Heliopolis without recommendations from Greeks active in Egypt and having some acquaintances in the Egyptian priesthood, something which corroborates the view that he knew the kind of persons he went to meet and that such persons (priests in the full sense of the term) had reasons to receive him well and talk to him.

What I say is confirmed by the fact that most Demotic Egyptian texts having similarities with what Herodotus records about the pre-Saite Egypt have been found in the library of the temple of Tebtynis. I am not talking only about the story of Pheros that Tarbet invokes in his video, but also about this of Sesostris and others. So, it seems that these stories were not just some kind of pop Egyptian culture circulating among the temporary manual workers- “priests” of the temples and more generally among the Egyptian population, but they were the possession and were read by the Egyptian priests in their temple libraries, and perhaps priests played an important role in their formation. This confirms of course Herodotus’ claim that he talked to Egyptian priests in the ordinary sense of the term and that these priests were the sources for his account of the pre-Saite history of Egypt.

German Egyptology professor Joachim Friedrich Quack, the scholar who edited the texts from Tebtynis some years ago and stressed their similarities with Herodotus’ record in Book II, has no doubts that the discovery and study of the papyri from the library of the temple of Tebtynis confirms Herodotus when he says that he heard what he writes about the history of Egypt from Egyptian priests (J-Fr. Quack “Quelques apports récents des études démotiques à la compréhension du Livre II d’Hérodote” -”Some recent contributions of the demotic studies to the understanding of Book II of Herodotus”, in Hérodote et l'Égypte. Regards croisés sur le Livre II de l'Enquête d'Hérodote. Actes de la journée d'étude organisée à la Maison de l'Orient et de la Méditerranée – Lyon, le 10 mai 2010, available on https://href.li/?https://www.persee.fr/doc/mom_0151-7015_2013_act_51_1_2256 , in my translation into English):

In summary, the current studies show well that more and more parallels appear between Herodotus’ narrative and the Egyptian demotic documentation, for both the traditions on the history of Egypt and the “ethnographic” section. The specific question about the sources should become clearer thanks to this contribution. Herodotus often refers to what he has heard from Egyptian priests 96. The demotic texts that I have presented here originate largely from a priestly milieu, as it is showed clearly enough in the papyri of Tebtynis. This makes also abundantly clear that the traditions on the Egyptian past and the exploits of the heroes, which have often been characterized as “folkloric” 97, have a solid basis in the stories circulating among the priests of Late Egypt. And where Herodotus’ narrative seems to us strange, concerning the anecdotes on the Egyptian kings or their order of succession, it would be appropriate to impute this strangeness less to the errors and misunderstandings of the Greek historian or to the fancies of uncultured guides than to the confusions which had been already produced during the long transmission of the Egyptian culture.

And we come now to the problem of the historical consciousness and historical knowledge of the priestly milieus with which Herodotus had contacts. We know that these priests had at their disposal rather accurate king lists (thus Herodotus 2.100), but on the other hand we know that the transmission of the knowledge of the past in ancient Egypt was far from flawless and that many legends and tales about this past circulated among the Egyptian priests who, at least to some degree, believed in them (this is proved not only by the library of Tebtynis, but also by the surviving fragments of the 3d century BCE priest-historian Manetho, the first Egyptian who wrote a continuous history of Egypt, following but also criticizing Herodotus). We know also that the ancient Egyptian priests and scribes were totally capable of manipulating history in order to serve their agendas. To what degree the problematic character of much of what the Egyptian priests related to Herodotus about the pre-Saite history of Egypt was just the result of their confusions and of distortions in their historical consciousness resulting from flawed transmission of the knowledge of the past and from the influence of legend, and to what degree they served agendas by consciously manipulating history in their interactions with a foreigner like Herodotus is a different and very interesting question that I will try to approach in a future post.

#herodotus #ancient egypt #egyptology #alex tarbet #joachim friedrich quack

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