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nevermindirah · 4 years

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Ok it's Jewish Booker o'clock, I can no longer stop myself, let's do this!

Why Jewish Booker? Dude was born in Marseilles in 1770, which happens to be a FASCINATING time and place in Jewish history, and it adds ridiculous layers to his character (without excusing a damn thing). Alternately just because I think he’s neat :)

Jewish Booker headcanons that make me happy:

not to be all "real Jews do X" but Jews fuck with candles hard. Book of Nile thrives on old/modern analog/digital giggles. Booker lighting Shabbat candles, lighting yarzeit (memorial) candles for his wife and sons (sob), lighting a menorah, lighting candles just because he's feeling emotional even though it's not chag (a holiday) or a yarzeit and Nile thinks he's trying to be sexy but he's really just in his feelings. just like. so many candles.

maybe Booker was the person who punched Richard Spencer at Trump's inauguration, just bringing back that time somebody punched a famous neonazi in the street and said neonazi has all but stopped appearing in public after a few rounds of public punching

were the Old Guard in Charlottesville in 2017? how many times has Booker the Blond Jew infiltrated North American white nationalist / Klan type activities and then stolen their weapons and/or killed them? likewise there's plenty of horrifying white nationalist shit happening across Europe this century, how many Pim Fortuyn types has he been involved in taking down? (I Am Of Course Not Endorsing Violence TM ;) ;) )

SINGING. Mattias Schoenaerts sings in Away From the Madding Crowd but it's church shit, sigh, anyway he has a nice voice. a lot of Jewish prayer is sung/chanted (depending on when/where you are and the gender rules of the community you're in) and there’s been a lot of innovation to Jewish singing in Booker’s lifetime, and I just want Nile to overhear him singing to himself on Friday afternoons

Nile Freeman was four years old when The Prince of Egypt came out, she grew up on that shit, she would want to introduce her new family to that shit. Please join me in picturing Booker, Nicky, Joe, and Andy all shouting "that's not how it happened!!" throughout this beautiful nightmare of a movie with lovely animation and songs but where white people voice most of the Egyptian and Jewish characters, because Booker Nicky and Joe's religious texts all frame the Exodus story a little differently and Andy was probably there when it happened (except for how it didn't actually happen it's an important story but it's just a story pls just let me giggle about Andy being super old)

Read below the cut for sad Jewish Booker headcanons, French Jewish history (mostly sad), context on antisemitism (enraging/sad), and all the way to the very end for a himbo joke.

Jewish Booker headcanons, I made myself sad edition:

he is a forger. who was alive. in 1939. visas. VISAS. V I S A S. how many of us did he save? how many more could he have saved if he didn't sleep that night? how heavily does that weigh?

how do we think he BECAME a forger? most likely he was doing what he needed to do to support his family, which gets extra poignant if he was also trying to help his people, forging documents as well as money even during his mortal life

Booker raised Catholic by crypto-Jews adds ANOTHER layer to the forgery thing, no shit he'd get good at falsifying paperwork and coming up with plausible cover stories

do we know how Booker made it back home after his first death in 1812? his route between the Russian Empire and Provence in 1812 would've been a patchwork of laws about Jews, in case starvation and frostbite weren't enough for him to have to deal with, he's blond and could maybe get away with pretending not to be Jewish if he had to, alternately maybe synagogues and yeshivot took him in on his way home

the structural and sometimes-interpersonal dynamics of antisemitism cause many individual Jews to experience feelings of teetering on the fence between a valued member of a not-exclusively-Jewish community and a scapegoat/outcast/problem. HOLY SHIT BOOKER. "what do you know of all these years alone" is the most Jewish loneliness-in-a-crowd shit I've ever heard. fear that we're not wanted, or only wanted so long as we're useful — that's something that basically all people struggle with under capitalism, but it's especially poignant for many Jews because of the particular way antisemitism operates. (NOTE this can tip from a legit Jewish Booker reading to woobification of the sad white man who couldn't possibly be held responsible for his own actions because he's so sad, which, NOPE. it's very understandable for him to feel left out and misunderstood and not as wanted, as the youngest and not part of an immortal couple and maybe Jewish, but NONE OF THIS excuses his betrayal.)

Crusaders murdered a lot of Jews on their way to the ~holy land~. how many of Booker's people did Nicky kill on his way to kill Joe's people? has Booker ever actually talked to either of them about it?

I read this really beautiful fic about Joe needing to circumcise himself after getting run over by a cart (ouch) — this is a hell of a thing for Joe and Booker to have in common

just generally Jewish Booker adds more layers to him and Joe so clearly being such close friends, ugh that look Joe gives him when they're leaving the bar at the end of the movie, and I very much do not mean this in a gross Arab-Israeli-conflict way because Joe is Amazigh not Arab and Booker is Jewish not Israeli (and also a lot of Jews are Arabs) (but most importantly there's no ~eternal conflict~ between Muslims and Jews) (more about OP Is Not A Zionist below)

like, the UK and France (and to a certain extent Italy) carved up the former Ottoman Empire after WWI; among other things, the UK took Palestine, and they could've worked on eradicating European antisemitism so Jews wouldn't have to leave but instead they used their control of Palestine to encourage Zionist emigration of Jews out of Europe, and France took what is now Iraq, which has some pretty direct implications for US military involvement in that country in Nile's lifetime; France colonized Tunisia in the late 19th century and still held it during the Vichy era which means Tunisian Jews were subject to Nazi anti-Jewish laws which is just layers upon layers of colonial racist Islamophobic and antisemitic nightmares for Joe and Booker to live through

to be crystal clear before anybody gets ooh Muslim-Jewish conflict up in here, antisemitism is an invention of European Christians that they imported to the places they colonized, the European colonial powers encouraged Zionism because it was easier for them to encourage Jews to leave Europe and set us up as middle agents between the colonial powers and the ~scary brown people~, the Ottoman Empire and other Muslim governments historically have had a second-class citizenship category for non-Muslims that rankles my American first amendment freedom of religion sensibility but was very much not targeting Jews specifically, and these two men who've lived for a long-ass time through many varieties of geopolitical awfulness (and alongside a certain unwashed Crusader who has since learned his lesson) would have Things To Say about how our current mainstream discourses frame these things

getting off my soapbox and back to this action movie I'm trying to talk about, the ANGST of Booker's exile, which is simultaneously a very valid decision for Andy Joe and Nicky to make, an extremely long time for Nile who is only 26 years old to be separated from the one person on the planet in a position to really understand the crisis she's going through, and holy shit expelling a Jew from your group when he's already been expelled from mortality and his family and being expelled from places and continually having to start over somewhere new is THE curse of surviving through antisemitism, OUCH MY FEELINGS

Some French Jewish history:

France, like basically all of Europe, periodically expelled its Jews, but Provence (where Marseilles is) wasn't legally part of France during the expulsions up through 1398 so Provence had a continuous active Jewish community; about 3,000 Iberian Jewish refugees ended up in Provence after the expulsions from Spain and Portugal in the 1490s

the 1498 expulsion of French Jews DID apply to Provence but many "converted" to Christianity and reestablished a Jewish community when enforcement of the expulsion chilled out (which was in the government's interest because they were really into taxing Jews at higher rates, so much so that they taxed "new Christians" at higher rates once they realized expelling Jews meant they wouldn't be around to overtax, ffs) — by the mid-18th century Provence had notable communities of Jews and crypto-Jews (forced converts and their descendants who still kept some Jewish practices in secret)

Booker would've been 21 when revolutionary France granted equal legal rights to Jews in 1791 — his mortal life and first century of immortality happens to line up almost perfectly with the timeline of legal emancipation of Jews across Europe

the American and French Revolutions happened pretty much concurrently and took different approaches to religious freedom that make Book of Nile with Jewish Booker and canon Christian Nile extra interesting — French emancipation, at least from my American sensibility, is about secularism and religion not "interfering" (hence French Islamophobic shittiness about banning hijabs), whereas American religious freedom is more of "the government can't stop me from trying to evangelize / religiously harass people at my school/workplace/etc" — to be clear I think both countries' approaches to religious "freedom" are hegemonic as shit and have devastating flaws, but they're different models that emerged at the same time in Booker's youth and Christianity is clearly a source of emotional support for Nile and there's so much to explore here

Napoleon tried to ~liberate~ the Jews of places he conquered for his dumbass French Empire, but liberation from ghettos came with strings attached (like banning us from some of the only jobs we'd been legally allowed to have for centuries, and liberating us for the stated purpose of getting us to assimilate and stop being Jews) and many places that were briefly part of the French Empire reinstated their antisemitic laws after Napoleon was gone, can you imagine being a French Jew forced to fight and die in Russian winter for that jackass and then have to trudge back through a dozen countries whose antisemitism was all riled up by French interference?

Some facts about antisemitism:

antisemitism operates differently than many other oppressions, it doesn't economically oppress the target group in the same way as antiblackness or misogyny or ableism etc — the purpose of antisemitism is to create a scapegoat to blame when European peasants are mad at the king / the church / the people actually in charge, and structural antisemitism encourages a system where some Jews become visibly successful so that those individuals and our whole community are easier to make into scapegoats

one of the historical roots of antisemitism is stuff in the Christian Bible about moneylending as sinful — Jews in medieval Europe were often barred from owning land and Christians barred from moneylending, so some Jews found work in finance and some of us became very visibly successful for working with money — a few individual Jews running a particular bank or finding success as jewelry dealers turns into "Jews control global financial systems" scapegoating — a more recent example of this is the participation of nonblack Jews in white flight and the role of Jewish landlords doing the visible dirty work of non-Jewish institutions in American antiblack housing discrimination, Nile grew up on the South Side of Chicago and would have seen some shit along these lines and might repeat hurtful ideas out of a lack of knowledge, here's Ta Nahesi Coates on some of these dynamics

Booker canonically being a forger (specifically of coins in the comics?) needs a little extra care to avoid antisemitic tropes about Jews and money, I will happily answer good-faith asks about this if you want to check on something for a fic/etc

antisemitism in the United States where I live in October 2020 isn't institutional in the sense of targeting Jews for police violence or anything like that. it IS systemic, however, for example in all the antisemitic conspiracy theories the Trump administration and several other Republicans peddle (ie QAnon), and in how the Trump administration points to support for Israel as if that means support for Jews (it doesn't, it's evangelical Christians who push the US government to support the Israeli government because they think Jews need to be in the ~holy land~ for Jesus to come back that's literally why the United States funds Israel at the level it does). antisemitism also gets weaponized to encourage white Jews (those of us of European descent, who in the United States are definitely white because the foundation of US racism is slavery and antiblackness as well as anti-indigenous genocide, maybe European Jews aren't included in whiteness everywhere but we definitely are where I live) to side with white supremacy instead of building solidarity with other marginalized people (ie a lot of mainstream Jewish groups shit on the Movement for Black Lives because of its solidarity with Palestinians)

the Nation of Islam has a major presence in Chicago and its leader Louis Farrakhan who lives in Chicago has long spread a variety of antisemitic as well as homophobic bullshit but there are genuine good reasons many Black people find meaning/support in the Nation of Islam and Nile would've grown up with that mess in the air around her, this is a good take from a Black Jew about the nuance of all that

the way the Old Guard comics draw Yusuf al Kaysani is HOLY SHIT ANTISEMITISM BATMAN I hate it please summarize the comics for me because I DO NOT WANT to look at that unnecessarily caricatured nose why the fuck did they do that human noses are beautiful there is absolutely no need to draw Joe like a Nazi would

Jews for Racial and Economic Justice is a local NYC group that recently developed a fantastic resource for understanding and fighting antisemitism (pdf) 11/10 strongly recommend

Zionism disclaimer: A lot of Jews feel strongly that we need a Jewish-majority country in order to be safe from antisemitism. I strongly disagree with this idea on its merits (Jews disagree about who is a Jew and making Jewish status a government/immigration matter means some of us are going to get left out; also non-Jews aren't fundamentally dangerous and separatism isn't going to end antisemitism) but I have a lot of empathy for the very valid fear that leads a lot of my people to Zionism. Whether I want a Jewish-majority country or not, what Israel has done and continues to do to Palestinians is a deal breaker. Emotions run very high on this subject — I spend a lot of my not-Tumblr life talking to other Jews about Zionism and I'd rather not have this Jewish Booker headcanons post become yet another place where fellow Jews yell at me in bad faith. Block me if you need to, you're not going to change my mind. Call me self-hating if you want, I know I love us.

Racism in fandom disclaimer: I feel weird about increasing the volume of meta about Booker in this fandom. Nile Freeman is the main character and deserves lots of attention and adoration from the fandom — and she deserves emotional support from as many friends and orgasms from as many partners as she wants. I think Jewish Booker makes her friendship and potential romantic relationship with him even more interesting, hence this post. Ship what you ship, but be aware of the racist impact of focusing your fandom activity on, for example, shipping two white men while ignoring awesome characters of color especially the canon man of color one of those white dudes has already been with for a millennium. Please and thanks don't use my post for shenanigans like sidelining Joe so you can ship Booker with Nicky.

Oh and a non-disclaimer fun fact, Matthias Schoenaerts was born in Antwerp which apparently has one of the largest Jewish communities still remaining in Europe?? ~Jewish Booker headcanons intensify~

In conclusion: Jewish Booker! Just because it's fun! It exponentially increases the angst of his mortal lifetime and it puts his first century of immortality smack in the middle of the most intense changes to Jewish life since the fall of the Second Temple (aforementioned emancipation, also founding of Reform Judaism, the Haskalah, Zionism, and then of course the Holocaust). It makes his relationships with Nile, Joe, and Nicky more interesting and potentially angstier and with more intense commonalities and tenderness about their differences. It's very common for Jews to not believe in God (this confuses the shit out of a lot of Christians) and this would probably have further endeared him to Andy.

One more thing: Booker as golem. (A golem is basically an earthenware robot of Jewish folklore.) He's tall and blond and the most Steve Rogers-looking of all of them and from the Himbeaux region of France. THE trope of Book of Nile is he will do WHATEVER Nile wants or needs him to do. I was today years old when I learned that Modern Hebrew speakers use golem figuratively to mean "mindless lunk" and I'm choosing to squint and read that as "hot kind and dumb as rocks" because it amuses me.

#sebastien le livre #tog meta #jewish booker #book of nile #i couldn't stop myself #antisemitism #genocide cw #antiblackness #european imperialism #us imperialism #antizionism #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really wanna talk about it #except i just did #jewish things #jewish history #tog #mine

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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

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Musical Tryouts (1/31/2021)

Please pretend I posted this chat log a month and a half ago when it actually happened, sob.

Valera @autokrates is leaving an audition for Hell’s first production of Hamilton, and runs into Alastor, waiting for his turn to audition. They hang out and chat until it’s his turn—which marks the first time in forever they’ve had a full conversation that wasn’t Incredibly Awkward the whole way through. Hooray for progress.

Chronologically, this chat log happened between this (note: art of extremely hilarious outfit) and this (note: art of another hilarious outfit)

Alastor

Alastor hasn’t auditioned for a show since the seventies, and hasn’t auditioned and *cared* about it in almost a century. He’d like to think he doesn’t look nervous, but he knows he’s reread his typewritten lyrics about a hundred times and every couple of minutes he catches his leg bouncing again. That’s fine, he’s in disguise, he isn’t supposed to look like himself anyway. He can look a little nervous.

When he realizes he’s more staring a hole through his pages than actually reading them, he forces himself to lift his head, slouches back in his cheap metal chair, and looks around the makeshift backstage waiting room. Maybe he can figure out if anyone else is trying for his parts, drag them into the back alley, and mangle them. It would defeat the purpose of showing up in disguise, but it would burn some nervous energy, and anyway he’s already seen one would-be Angelica pin another down and slit her throat. His gaze scans over the other hopeful actors.

Valera

From the stage comes the muffled sound of someone singing, as expected. But the singing gets louder as the voice approaches the door, and it certainly sounds like Not A Musical Number. It sounds a lot more like someone who needed to be accompanied by someone torturing a piano with a series of small hammers. Was that a Will Wood number? Why yes, yes it was!

Through the curtains and round the corner comes the fish supreme, bedecked in enough frills and frippery to lose an orphan in with their 18th century french fashion, belting out lines from I/Me/Myself as they saunter towards the exit with barely a glance for the other hopefuls waiting for their call. Barely a glance at all, until their eyes land on Alastor. Then their jaunty tune is cut off with an uncanny impression of a record scratch crossed with a chicken being strangled, head whipping around for a double take as they freeze mid stride. Holy fuck what was he WEARING???

Alastor

Alastor’s ears threatened to perk up beneath his temporarily shapeshifted hair at the sound of a very familiar and very beloved song from another performer—he’d almost considered performing that one himself, God was he lucky he’d decided to go with “Modern Major General”—and he turned to see who it was with the spectacular taste in music—

“Valera?!” What the hell was Valera doing at a musical audition in Hell?

Valera

It WAS Alastor! They KNEW it! They gasp, pointing at him as their eyes boggle. "Al--" And just as quickly, a hand is clapped over their own mouth, teeth clicking as they clamp their mouth shut. Okay, try that again, *without* ruining his disguise.

They stride over to where he's sitting, leaning in slightly before hissing. "What are you WEARING?"

Alastor

Alastor plays the sound of something crashing over when Valera starts to say his name—the other waiting performers look around to see which props just toppled over—and hops out of his seat to meet Valera in the middle when they approach him. “Do *not* expose me,” he hisses, flinging an arm around Valera’s shoulders. “Nobody here knows I’m the Radio Demon and if this is going to work, nobody *can* know.”

Then he looks down at his own outfit. “A disguise.” Obviously. “I asked my listeners, ‘What’s the last thing you’d ever expect me to wear?’”

Valera

Oh, great, he's touching them AND he's already mad at them for something they'd already avoided. This seemed like par for the course, might as well get through this as painlessly as possible. Valera's face tightens into a stiff little smile, stomach already twisting into knots. "I've got no plans of exposing you, it would be a shame to ruin the work you put into your... outfit."

A slow exhale from the nose, and they force their shoulders to relax. Can't have the other actors see the two of them at odds, they're clearly just a couple of friends running into each other! A funny coincidence! Their voice raises back to a normal speaking tone, all sunshine and cheer as they give Alastor a pat on the back that falls short of actually touching him. "I take it you're here to audition for a part, then?"

Alastor

Alastor wheezes a near-silent laugh. “Isn’t it hideous?” he whispers. “You should see what the full leggings look like, they’re horrible.”

He lets go and steps back. “I am! I was seized by a wild burst of inspiration, and auditions happened before that inspiration ran out. I take it you... *already* auditioned.” Which raises a whole slew of questions, but Alastor starts with the most important one: “Which part?”

Valera

Valera sends up a silent prayer of thanks to any God listening, hands folding behind their back as they admire Alastor's grotesque attire. "Unfortunately, I kind of love it. It's vile, but with a few tweaks it could be a genuinely good outfit."

They clear their throat at his latter question, rolling back on the heels of their new shoes. "Washington. I didn't come to Hell today expecting to audition for anything, I was just here buying shoes. But I heard music, saw the theater, decided to pop in and see what was going on. And hey, why not try out? Didn't expect to run into you of all people."

Alastor

A little tension drains out of his shoulders at the answer. He glances down to idly check out Valera’s new shoes. “Oh, good! I don’t have to duel you for a part.” He almost instinctively starts playing a snip from “Ten Duel Commandments” to underline the comment, but catches himself. He is, after all, trying not to blow his cover—he’s even consciously suppressing the radio distortion to his voice, he nearly sounds like a normal person. “The feeling’s *entirely* mutual. You’re about the last person I’d expect to try out for a show around here, so far from home!”

And he’s not sure how he feels about it yet. He’s been trying to avoid talking to Valera—can’t get in trouble after interacting with them if they *don’t* interact, can he?—and now here he is doing the opposite of that... but they haven’t started another stupid argument. Yet. “What are you doing if you actually get the part? You’re committing to being in Pentagram City on a near daily basis for—goodness, months at least!”

Valera

They don't know how they feel about seeing him here either. It went from being a fun little spur of the moment tryout before icecream into an UNEXPECTED INTERACTION with A PERSON THEY DON'T KNOW WELL. But no, they have to tamp down on the urge to make their excuses and leave, things would never improve between them if Valera did nothing but avoid him after all.

"IF I get the part! I haven't been in a production in years, I'm rusty compared to plenty of the actors here today, I'm sure." A hand waves, lazy and dismissive. "But if I do pull it off, I've been planning on spending more time in Hell anyway. This is just a convenient excuse."

Alastor

“Hah, I haven’t tried out for a show since—well, since before you were born.” And then, he’d just been doing it as a lark, too—something to attempt to keep his mind occupied. He hadn’t actually *wanted* to be in a production this badly since he lived in New York, before he gave up on making it on Broadway and went into radio. “But how many of *them* can launch into a full musical number at the drop of a hat!”

Valera

Right, it was easy to forget that Alastor was old enough to be their dad. Or Grandpa. Probably? They'd done the math at some point..

"Hatched." They correct on reflex, reaching up to fuss with the feather on their hat. "Who are you trying for? Lafayette? I could see you as a Lafayette." They're saying it because of the French, but they will NOT say that out loud.

Alastor

Great-grandpa, easily. Maybe even great-great grandpa if a few generations got early starts.

His face brightens. “Let’s hope the casting director thinks so, too! Yes, Lafayette and Jefferson—the same actor played them both in the mortal realm, why shouldn’t one person play both down here, too?”

Valera

Great-grandpa Alastor, the spryest old man in the nursing home. Eating the interns when he gets bored... That sounds like a typical older Veci actually.

They hum, looking Alastor up and down in his getup. "You'll get the part, or I'll eat this silly chapeu. I've seen the competition you're up against. They're good, don't get me wrong, but..." A vague gesture at him. "Nobody could compete!"

Alastor

"You flatter me!" All the same, he's beaming widely. "But I was hoping that would be the case, what with when they scheduled auditions. January's a bad time for, well, *most* people's schedules. I'm afraid I missed all but the tail end of your performance—spectacular choice of song, though!"

Valera

"Why thank you! Will Wood doesn't fit the show's theme in the slightest, but it certainly shows my singing chops! Though if I'd planned for this audition I might have gone with an outfit a bit less.. *French*." They grin, shimmying their enormous sleeves. Unrepentant in the slightest. "Might. I could see Washington's doughy self in this getup."

Alastor

Alastor examines Valera’s getup. Was that French? It just looked old-fashioned to him. “Well, hopefully they’re not going to judge based on fashion!” He glances pointedly down at his own outfit.

Valera

Another glance at his outfit, and they give a thumbs up. "You've got a bowtie on, you'll be fine."

Oh. Would it be a supportive friend thing to do to sit and wait for his call with him? Or would that be somehow rude? They couldn't just ask, if it *was* rude he'd probably be offended by the notion, but if it wasn't... Something bad. Probably? Maybe they're being unfair. A quick clearing of the throat, and they gesture towards the door. "Do you want to sit down? I've got time to kill before. Uh... *Mon Cerf Rouge* arrives with my ice cream."

Alastor

*Oh right*, he’s wearing *Valera’s husband’s* bow tie. His hand flies up to cover it as if that will prevent it from being identified, and he quickly forces his hand back down. “Well! I wasn’t going to show up to an audition underdressed, was I?” He laughs thinly. Don’t act suspicious it’s fine.

Is Valera hanging out with another Alastor? He wonders which one. How is it that every version of himself manages to get along with them but him? It wouldn’t be so galling if *none* of them could get along with Valera, but if it’s something he uniquely is doing wrong—no, don’t worry about that right now.

His first inclination is to turn down the offer, they’ve had a cordial conversation so far and he can’t mess it up if it ends right here; but there’s a chance they’re about to both end up in the same show, isn’t there? Polite avoidance might not be an option for long. Better get to work on getting along. “Sure! It’s a bit yet until my turn.”

Valera

What a reaction! They will politely pretend they didn't see him have a miniature panic over being seen wearing Pentious' bowtie. Far too busy inspecting their gloves, for some reason. How convenient.

Well, now they've done it, they're stuck here. Though it's surprising he accepted the offer, maybe it'll be okay? If he really wanted to avoid them he could have turned the offer down. They're probably overthinking it. A quick nod, and then they perch on the edge of a seat so their fuckoff huge tail can actually fit amidst the mounds of ruffles. On the plus side, nobody but Alastor was going to be taking the seats next to them anytime soon, unless they wanted to fight the tide of frills.

Time to.. Get along? Polite chit chat? "Is this the first production of Hamilton in Hell? It's a fairly new musical, and I know there's a bit of a delay getting things down here."

Alastor

“The very first! In fact, this production company is the one that got the first recording smuggled down from the living realm! Online there’s a few amateur recordings of recent arrivals singing the songs they remember, but so far that’s the only presence Hamilton has had in Hell. Anyone who gets in this show has an opportunity to *define* their roles in the eyes of the public.” Oh, he’s getting a little starry-eyed just thinking of it. “I suppose you’ve probably seen the original production in the mortal realm?”

Valera

"I did, though that was long before I met you or I'd have invited you along!" They're going to take the hat off, it's very silly and the feather keeps floating around in the corner of their vision. Plus, now they have something to hold in their hands so they can't start doing anything weird with them. Win win!

Alastor seems genuinely excited about this production, he'd gone through all the effort to get an outfit, come for tryouts.. And they just sauntered in on a whim. Thank the gods they weren't trying out for the same part, Valera would have had to bow out immediately. "I wonder if any of the actual founding fathers have survived long enough down here to see the show. Wouldn't *that* be something?"

Alastor

“Wouldn’t it just! I can’t think of *anything* I’d enjoy more than prancing around on stage making Jefferson look like an absolute damn fool while the real deal seethes in a front row seat!” He laughs. It’s not a terribly friendly laugh. “But I don’t know if any are down here. I don’t pay close attention to that sort of thing—and anyway, most *important* people who end up damned either find themselves on the receiving end of a deluge of assassination attempts or else change their identities fairly fast. A founding father could show up and audition to play as himself and we might not know.” A thoughtful pause. “Although I doubt any of them would get the part.”

Valera

"I'd assume they wound up here, considering the whole owning slaves and starting wars thing. Good PR post mortem doesn't absolve you of shitty behaviors in life, unfortunately." Yes. Very unfortunate. That's why they're grinning so toothily. "Imagine if we got the actual King George on the roster? Though I'd rather see Pentious try for the part, personally." There's no way George was still around, he'd gone batty enough in life that he'd probably wandered onto the nearest angelic spear first thing. But they could dream!

Alastor

“One would hope! But no one’s ever sent me the rule book on what does and doesn’t get you access upstairs, who knows for sure? I can tell you what I think *should* get you down here, but I can’t tell you with complete certainty whether or not it does.”

Oh, his eyes light up at that. “Just imagine him in the full raiment of a king! But no. Getting up on stage to have hundreds of people laugh at him for dressing and acting like royalty? He’d hate it.”

Valera

"He'd look glorious in a crown! But you're right, he'd never want a comic relief role, even if he WOULD get to sing about sending battalions after people." Alas and alack, King George ala Pentious would have to live in their dreams. But they smirk, leaning a fraction closer to Alastor to whisper. "But we might be able to get him to sing it privately, at least, and wouldn't that be lovely?"

Quickly pulling back, they cross one leg over the other and put on that cheerful grin again. "What do you think *should* qualify to send people to Hell, my fine fellow? It's a broad question, so we can skip it if you'd rather not open that can of worms."

Alastor

Wouldn’t it be lovely, indeed. He smiles uncomfortably and glances away.

“Oh, skip it.” He waves a hand vaguely. “I find the topic as sanctimonious as it is futile. It may not be for *you*, perhaps—for you, it’s little more than an interesting thought experiment on alien morality—but for us? What’s the good of debating why people should be damned when we’re *already* damned? It’s not going to help us get out of Hell. God isn’t going to take our suggestions into consideration. All the topic does is make one bitter that the powers that be don’t appear to be judging people to one’s personal moral standards—or else it inspires one to assume that God *is* operating in line with one’s personal understanding of justice, and try to pigeonhole everyone one meets into the crimes one believes are worthy of damnation. I’ve run into countless people down here who *don’t know why* they’re damned—and yet they *are* damned, which means they’ve done something that *is* damnable even if they themselves don’t believe it. If people can’t understand their own sins, how can they be trusted to judge anyone else’s?”

Valera

They lean back as Alastor skips one can of worms for another, watching him as he broke down his reasoning. It was interesting, insightful, even if they didn't have much to say to him in response. He was right, after all. For them it was an alien concept, a novelty to roll around and discard when they were bored, just like so many other human notions. But not everyone was so lucky. A nod of agreement, and they flick their tail.

"You're right. My apologies, Alastor, it's easy to forget how... fortunate I am, to be in the position I'm in." A side eye at the other actors, who PROBABLY couldn't hear the conversation, but even so. "Something lighter, then. Have you had a chance to work on restoring your deathday gift yet? You did a fine job with Alexander, he's as glossy as the day you *finished* him."

Alastor

“Oh, that’s just to be expected. How many people have a chance to measure their lives up against the dead and damned, anyway? We’re not given opportunities to interact with anyone but our fellow prisoners and our jailers, and that’s by design.” He’s occasionally side-eyeing the other actors himself, but none seem to be paying attention.

“Oh—yes! Cleaned out the guts and got off the worst of the grime of age. I need to get a few cleaning supplies to finish the job, but soon the both of them will be spick and span!” Look at him beaming, the proud father. “How *is* Alexander? I wanted to talk to him while visiting your place, but his time seemed to be monopolized by someone else the whole trip!” He really did feel bad about that. He feels like he’s got something a duty to Alexander, but so far he hasn’t been able to meet it.

Valera

This was a MUCH better topic. Radios and mutual friends, much safer. They let their shoulders relax under the jacket, chirping as their fins waggle. "I'm sure they'll be as good as new by the time you're done with them, mon collègue. You'll have to show me how they come out. A beautiful antique is always twice as radiant when restored with care, and those radios were gorgeous."

Ah.. Alexander. Their face twists, a frown tugging at the corners of their mouth. "Alexander is.. alright, I suppose. Nothing terrible has happened, and I've been trying to work with him on his manifestations with generally mixed to positive results." They shrug, sighing through their nose. "I think he misses other humans. Or former humans, I suppose. We get along well, but he'll see something and start talking about.. Ponzi? Or his mother writing to him from the" Airquotes here as they squint "Dust Bowl?" What the fuck is a dust bowl? They don't know, it sounds like something a chinchilla would roll in. "And he loses me completely."

Alastor

“I’ll have Vaggie take pictures some time.”

Alastor’s eyebrows shoot up. “That poor man got tangled up with Ponzi *and* the dust bowl? Goodness, what an unfortunate life he lived! But you’re right, he really needs more humans to talk to, doesn’t he? I’ll—“ A pause, and then he says thoughtfully, “I’ll see whether I can contact him myself. If not, I’ll let you know and we’ll arrange a play date. If it works, though—you’ll probably hear about it from him.”

Valera

Contact Alexander himself? Valera opens their mouth to ask how, then it clicks. Right, radio to radio transmissions. Could Alastor reach radios outside of Hell? Maybe it would be easier if the radio was haunted, a bit closer to the fuzzy boundaries between Heaven, Hell, and Earth. Or, Okkylk in this case. Hm.

"I'll take your word for it, I haven't got the foggiest about what either of those are. What the *devil* is a Ponzi?" They've heard "Ponzi Scheme" said in movies, but maybe it wasn't even the same Ponzi! Maybe Ponzi was a normal human thing. Like a brand, they do love their brands... "But thank you. I think he'd benefit from having more than one very alien being to talk to."

Alastor

“Charles Ponzi! A con artist! He convinced a whole slew of people to give him a mountain of money to invest in what he claimed was some post office money-making scheme and that he’d double their money in a month or two. Instead, he pocketed the money, convinced *another* slew of people to give him money for the same scheme, used that money to pay off the first wave of suckers—and rinse and repeated until he’d scammed thousands and stolen millions! Spent a few years in prison, got out and tried another scheme, got arrested in dear old New Orleans trying to flee the country! You knew you weren’t going to be bored any time he showed up in the papers!” Alastor loves a good con artist story. “The Dust Bowl, I missed myself—just a little bit after my time—but from my understanding it was a big drought in the middle of the States that dried out a bunch of farmland. Lot of farming families starved those years.” Alastor loves a good con artist, but starving people are just sad.

Valera

This Ponzi guy should have gone into politics, hot damn. Valera makes a low whistle, nodding their approval. "That DOES explain why he thought about Ponzi, we were talking about the weird political scams my predecessor left me on the hook for when I snuffed him out. Though I think that Charles there pulled it off with more flair than that bird brain ever could have. What a character! I've got to respect that kind of daring."

Probably best not to comment too much on the dust bowl, that sounds like a downer. But, they did bring it up, and if they're talking about Alexander.. "That does explain it. I believe his family was based in that middle area." A nod, and they immediately jump to something less negative. "Let him prattle on at you about his electronics store, he'd love it. The man talked my fins off for twenty minutes about something called a Perikon Detector a regular asked him to order and I STILL don't understand why he was so exasperated about it."

Alastor

“Oh, did he ever have flair! There’s a story I heard about when news of his scams started hitting the papers—all his investors swarmed his offices to demand their money back, he went around to them one by one offering coffee and donuts and smiles, and charmed them so well they *left* their money with him!” Alastor laughs.

Perikon Detector? Alastor stares off into space a moment, trying to dig the term out of nearly-century-old memories. “... Probably because Perikon Detectors were replaced by vacuum tubes before ninety percent of the nation ever even *heard* of radios. What the hell did someone want a Perikon Detector?”

Valera

They laugh, clapping their hands together. Charles Ponzi, was it? They'd have to look the fellow up later just to see the details of his escapades, maybe forward the information to a certain lawyer they knew. But for now, their potential costar has been oddly silent..

Alastor in a state of blank befuddlement was a rare treat, and one that Valera enjoyed while they could before he seemed to snap back into focus with his scrabbled knowledge in hand. "You'll have to ask him for specifics, but judging by the choice of insults, this person had a habit of asking for obscure, outdated parts rather frequently. Maybe a collector? Upcycler?" They shrug. "I still have no idea what a Perikon Detector IS. It sounds like a little bauble they'd use in a bad sci-fi show."

Alastor

“Well, it detects perikons, obviously!” He pauses. Dead silence. “Right, forgot I gave the laugh track the afternoon off. You at least know what vacuum tubes are, right? They, uh...” Has Alastor ever actually learned what it is, *exactly,* that vacuum tubes do. He knows how to use them. He knows how to tell which one he needs. He’s put them in radios. He’s *made* radios. But his eyes glaze over whenever he tries to learn what exactly it is the electricity *does* in there.

“Well,” he says confidently, “they control electrons, you see. You’re not getting very far in electronics if you can’t control electrons.” There’s a smattering of laughter. “Shut up, you’re all on break. Anyway, you’ve got vacuum tube radios and crystal radios—there’s a crystal in a Perikon Detector, see—and vacuum tube radios actually need some electricity to power them—which means you’ve got enough electricity to also power a speaker. Crystal radios are powered only by the very radio waves they pick up, but you’ve got to squeeze headphones against your face to hear it—so not very useful if you want to use a radio while doing anything but sitting in one spot very quietly with your hands over your ears. A Perikon Detector is just one brand name of crystal detectors that pick up radio waves.”

Valera

Alastor's initial joke is delivered, and Valera rather wished it hadn't been. In fact, they'd like to file a formal complaint with the verbal post office, they seem to have delivered an auditory assault instead of pleasantries. Silence reigns between them, oppressive and all consuming like an unjust monarch, three eyes staring silent judgement at the Radio Demon for his awful, terrible, no good dad joke levels of comedy. Jingle the bells on your little jester hat, old man-- Oh wait, he's talking again.

Valera stops squinting, rolling their eyes with a groan. He's still telling bad jokes. Those are only funny when YOU'RE the one telling them, the bastard. But they're going to completely gloss over his evil sense of humor and focus on the technical talk, and if there's a little upward twitch of their lips it's his imagination. Shut up. Dad jokes aren't funny. "Interesting! I'd never even heard of a crystal radio before, humans upgrade their technology so quickly that it makes the mind reel. One of their.. Your? Finer features."

Alastor

Alastor is goddamn hilarious and a gift to the microphone and the world is better for him and his humor having been in it, if we’re not counting those murders he did. “It *is* one of our more impressive parlor tricks! Although, truth be told, only one we picked up in the last century or so!” A pause. “Last *two* centuries. I keep forgetting the 1820s aren’t a hundred years ago. Anyway, we’ve really picked up the pace lately, relatively speaking! I once heard someone say—I don’t know how he knows, but I’m sure someone looked it up—that for several thousand years, the human *pelvis* evolved faster than the plowshare! And then all of the sudden, boom! Factories! Steel! Trains! Airships! Radio! How did people before the nineteenth century not bore themselves to death, I’ll never know.”

Valera

Valera cocks their head to the side, mind casting back. "From what I recall about sixteen hundreds France from my earliest visits, there was a lot of interpersonal drama and dying from preventable diseases to keep people busy. Much less interesting than the industrial revolution. Though the water was also a lot *cleaner* back then." A dissatisfied scoff. "Late eighteen hundreds London was a foul, foul place. Only went once and I had a cough for a week."

Alastor

"Oh, *that's* right! *Human drama!* Entertainment at its purest! I would have been an insufferable gossip, I'm sure." His smile broadens with satisfaction at figuring out what he would have done before radio.

Valera

"Oh don't sell yourself short, Alastor. I'm sure given the chance, you could be an insufferable gossip now, too!" They flutter their lashes dramatically, fanning themselves with their hat as they titter like a fine court damsel. Okay, enough of that. "They should be calling you soon, no?"

Alastor

“You flatter me! If more people shared gossip with me, I *would* be!”

Oh, right. He’s here for the first audition he’s cared about since dying. He sits up a little straighter, ears almost lifting out of his absurd disguise hair as he strains to listen to the current audition on stage. Sounds like it’s wrapping up. “Probably.” He looks down at his printed lyrics again and, predictably, forgets how to read.

Valera

Valera glances at Alastor's paper, humming as their hands rest on their hat. Was he *nervous*?

"Are you nervous?" Wait they said that out loud didn't they. Well, shit. Better commit. "What did you say you were doing again? The Major General's Song?"

Alastor

He's gonna ignore the hell out of that first question. "Yes, Modern Major General—and I learned a couple of songs from the show, more or less. I don't know what they're going to ask for. I figured at a minimum Modern Major General would show I can sing fast enough for the parts, if they don't want anyone to sing from the show."

Valera

If he'd actually answered the question, Valera would have probably accused him of being an imposter. Alastor wasn't known for admitting to his emotions unless you happened to be a Victorian steampunk snake, and even then. A sigh, and they lean back in their seat as much as their tail allows. "They let me sing Will Wood, so I think your selection should be perfectly sufficient. You even went with another musical theater song!"

Valera

Even then, he only just sort of failed to deny straightforward accusations. Kind of like what he just did. "I'm glad I didn't go with Will Wood," he mutters.

Yep, there's no more singing or talking from the stage, they're definitely wrapping up. Any second now.

Valera

It sounds like Alastor's turn is coming up, and good timing on that. They had no idea how to respond to his mutterings beyond pointing out that no casting director in Hell was likely to have heard of a semi obscure avant-garde jazz musician. Which might not even be accurate, maybe he was popular down here.

Out comes the phone, the ultimate distraction to ignore a potentially awkward silence. Better to end the talk on a positive-ish note, considering they're going to be seeing this garishly dressed man on the daily for possibly months. Sit next to one Alastor, text another, barely suppress snorts when the second gets confused about "phish food" being an ice cream flavor. As a fish does.

Alastor

The most recent actor comes backstage again, and another demon calls, “Next, uh... Lass?”

Alastor hops to his feet. “That’s me! That’s my name.” He turns to Valera. “Stage name. Drag name, usually, but as long as I’ve got the hair and the dress today—Anyway!” He claps a hand on Valera’s shoulder. “Tell me to break a leg!”

Valera

They glance up from their phone at the name call, sliding their eyes back down as Alastor hops up. Off he goes then? Maybe not, he's talking now, they should respond--

They make a very undignified BWAGH at the unexpected touch, hat flying off their lap as their whole body jumps. Then immediately pretends it didn't happen, clearing their throat noisily. What? No, they didn't just jump out of their scales. "Break a leg, Alastor."

Alastor

*Wheeze.* He doesn’t apologize but he *does* quickly take his hand back, which is probably as close as they’re gonna get from him. “Thanks!” He startled the hell out of someone and got a quick laugh out of it, that does something to steady his nerves. He folds up his lyrics, tucks them away god-only-knows-where, and strides out. Showtime!

Valera

Valera watches him go, shaking their head as they stand. Well, that's one radio demon out of their hair. Time to go willingly throw themselves at another one! The hat is plucked off the floor, and off they go. Not too shabby a day, not too shabby at all.

#chat log #autokrates

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theparanormalperiodical · 4 years

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The Paranormal Guide To The Paris Catacombs - And The 11 Other Haunted Catacombs And Underground Tunnels That'll Scare The Sh*T Out Of You

The carol was right: we are in the bleak midwinter.

A blanket of snow might not be lingering outside my bedroom window, nor do I feel full of post Christmas cheer (well, aside from the increase in my chances of type 2 diabetes), but what I do have is shared with everyone reading this right now:

We all wanna go on holiday.

A cray cray vacay in the sun? A booze up in ‘Biza? A peruse around Paris? Sign me the f*ck up.

So, I thought “well if I don’t have the time to go to Paris nor the money cause graduate entry level jobs are sh*t and I still don’t know how I’m going to afford to live in London in terms of rent and travel coasts cause god everything costs money”, why not travel to Paris online and take you with me?

*Cue ‘ahhhhhh’ sounds from the audience.*

A quick glance at the Eiffel Tower? A croissant overlooking the Notre Dame? A walk along the Seine and a laugh in the rain?

You see, we do things differently, here at the Paranormal Periodical. We aren’t sticking ‘round for the Instagram pics, and we won’t be stopping at Chanel, either. We are heading straight for the Catacombs.

And if that doesn’t satisfy your need for spooky, are you up for venturing a bit further? Hell yeah, we goin’ on a rooooadtripppp!

Today’s article is going to take us through the creepy AF history and hauntings of the Paris catacombs, and the 11 other haunted catacombs and underground tunnels that you gotta hear about.

Prepare your emotional well-being…

Soyons effrayants!

The Basic-bitch History Of The Paris Catacombs

In short, unspooky terms, the catacombs are 200 miles of caves, quarries and tunnels, brimming with 6 million corpses. Ah, f*ck. That was heckin’ spooky, wasn't it?

But it’s not just the fact that there’s, like, a lot of dead French people there that makes the catacombs famous. It’s both the #aesthetic of death and the twisting labyrinth so many have been lost to that gets my stamp of approval.

Unfortunately, the aesthetic isn’t the only creepy component of the catacombs. The history is terrible. Which is fine. This is fine.

During the most iconic moments of French history - basically anything in the 18th century, like someone sneezing in a certain tone would probably spark a rebellion - there were a lot of bodies littering Paris. And I mean a lot, the cemeteries could not cope.

Corpses cloggin’ up the streets are a problem, obviously. Merchants were complaining about the scent of rotting corpses putting off potential customers, there was a growing threat of disease, and as a result of their rainy weather, mud was making the bodies crash through walls and cellars.

(Quelle surprise!)

Yeah, it’s pretty bad.

The most famous case of corpses causing issues is the collapse of the Saint Innocents Cemetery – you know, when rotting bodies crashed through the wall of an innocent cellar which was being used as a restaurant.

Delicious.

Intrigued? So were Parisians from 200 years ago. The current obsession with the catacombs didn’t start with the recent films such as As Above So Below (2014), nor the clickbait fest that is now YouTube; it actually started about 100 years after their constructions began.

The 19th century was when the interest piqued, but it was less the discussion of the spirits that roamed below the streets of Paris, and more the cool hip restaurants and hang outs that made the posh Parisians obsessed with these, um, new haunts.

(Sorry.)

For some reason the French just can’t stop eating next to corpses and cemeteries. Beyond Parisians enjoying a baguette next to past victims of the plague, the use of the catacombs has figured pretty well within French history, too: from the rebels of the French revolution using the catacombs to murder monarchists, to the use of it by both the Nazis and the French resistance to make their moves in WW2.

But this use of these tunnels doesn’t just piece together the paranormal patchwork of this haunted city. The other catacombs and underground tunnels’ partake in this, too. Because when you combine dead people and trapped people, you just get a lot of sh*t.

Already hiding under the covers and looking up the quickest ways to exorcise a house for fear that a corpse circa 1730 is stuffed in your wall, garlic necklace ‘n’ all?

Prepare to get even more freaked the f*ck out.

The Haunting Of The Paris Catacombs

Unsurprisingly, the catacombs - yes, you know, the ones full of the same amount of corpses as London’s current living population - is listed as one of the most haunted locations in the world.

Whether it’s the 6 million lost spirits, the ghosts of those who died lost and alone, or simply the fact that its underneath one of the most historic cities, there’s no doubt that if somewhere gon’ have a ghost, it’s gon’ be here.

Add on top of that the general deathiness if the place, and visitors will be much more receptive to potential paranormal activity! Its dark, it smells, it’s a rather humid 15 degrees, and you are surrounded by the dead. With creepy inscriptions and skull and bone sculptures, we are possibly more likely to think “welp this sh*t’s gotta be haunted”.

But specific reports beyond “I felt a presence and yeah I was surrounded by tourists but my ghost-dar is like my gay-dar I can spot a pansexual and a poltergeist within 13 seconds when I walk in a room” are also noted.

Cold spots, being touched by invisible hands, whispers and voices, shadow figures, and the feeling of being followed are just a few traces of activity already claimed. I have tried to find more information on the spooky events that lurk beneath the streets, but there isn't that much discussion of it, let alone any specific cases of note.

Phew! So, no ghosts down here than, ahaha brilliant, I’m just gonna go take a shower in a Holy font now byeeeee-

Hold your horses.

There’s many more catacombs and there’s many more tunnels we have yet to explore, and they are crawling with otherworldly beings.

The #Aesthetic Of Death

Aside from the rather general hauntings witnessed, what really makes this location the place to be is the celebration of death. And we can only start the discussion of this by talking about the history of the dead in the catacombs.

Their entrance into the current resting place is pretty wild, actually. They would be carted out in the dead of the night, with priests chanting behind them, creating a pretty casual procession, if you’re asking me.

I mean, of course, this is what I do when I pop to the corner shop for a pint of milk, but I’m not like the other girls, so…

This rehoming is what birthed the aesthetic of the catacombs: the workers arranged the bones in artistic and, like, totally traumatic sculptures - it’s this creepy-ass art which makes the catacombs quite so famous.

Take The Barrel: this is one of the most iconic examples of this celebration of death, and it’s even a support beam erected from the skulls and bones of past Parisians. Even if brittle human bone for 300 years ago doesn’t sound too supportive for an underground structure attempting to hold up the ground.

“So, there’s literally bones within touching distance just clogging up the catacombs? Surely that’ll make it spirit-central?”

Not quite. Paranormal theories actually dispute this.

Spirits don’t remain attached to their dead body. Ghosts reportedly remain attached to the location of their death, whereas spirits are entities which basically wander around the earth and different plains. So, just because the bodies are there, doesn’t mean the dead are.

(Is it just me or does that last sentence just sound so like inspirational I don’t even think it’s inspiring if anything it’s a bit give up in your dreams but bitch IT’S CONVINCED ME TO GIVE UP ON MY DREAMS.)

Loads Of People Go Missing Here, Which Is, You Know, Fine.

There might not be much specific-supernatural-stuff going on, but there is an ungodly amount of people that go missing down there.

Great.

Of the 200 miles of tunnels and caves, the public are only legally allowed to witness 1.2 miles of it. The French government has quite a wrangle on the catacombs, with guards patrolling and influence over those that go there. In fact, the cast and crew behind As Above So Below (2014) were given permission by the French government to even film there!

“Is it ‘cause the government doesn’t want us mortals to know about that spooky-ass shizz going on down there?”

No.

It’s probably because exploring the catacombs is a suicide mission. And this is what gives the catacombs their frightful name.

It’s even illegal to enter the catacombs without official guidance since 1985!

This is because the building of the catacombs was officially f*cked up. It was an act of desperation with minimal planning and quick solutions; and it’s no surprise that tales of innocent explorers has littered the catacombs since their creation.

These stories have inspired the films documenting the catacombs, including one which had Pink in it, which I mean, 11/10 must watch, f*ck the information on the catacombs, I want to see Pink, dammit.

I don’t know about you, but whilst hauntings do give me the heebiejeebies... but being trapped? Nah, mate, not doing that.

Unfortunately, there are people that do that. Heck, they’re probably doing it as we speak! And they are called cataphiles - young adults desperate for a little adventure. But instead of smoking stolen cigarettes outside of the local off licence, they get lost in underground tunnels. Obviously, this often ends rather badly.

Even as recently as 2017, two teenagers were found after 3 days of being lost in the catacombs having entered through one of the many off-the-grid entrances. But it’s not just these youths that are getting lost and trapped - even the experienced have been left there to die.

The first reported case was in 1793. Some hospital doorman supposedly got lost down there, and died alone and afraid. His body was found 11 years later.

Fact is, you probably won't be murdered by a psycho-clown or possessed by a demon down in the catacombs - you will suffer a much more tragic fate. But these stories aren’t the only thing giving the catacombs their creepy name: it’s a piece of antique clickbait which established this tourist hotspot as a, uh, cold spot.

The story goes that a camcorder was found in the nineties in the catacombs. Once they’d wiped off the thick layer of dust amassed over the years, the finders of the camera discovered that it contained footage of a man exploring the catacombs - and then getting lost.

It then recorded the descent of a man into madness. Our final clip is of this man dropping the camera, and running for his life. We do not know why.

This footage has been disregarded as a hoax, particularly as it was used in a documentary for added dramatic effect. But as a short film, it was one of the founding fathers of found footage horror, marking the value of this location as a truly terrifying site.

(Mon dieu!)

What About The Other Haunted Underground Catacombs And Tunnels That Unfortunately Exist?

#1 - The Odessa Catacombs

In 2005, ‘Masha’ began to trend on the web. Stories of separation, starvation, and pictures of a mangled corpse soon began to circulate, too. Yet despite the rumours regarding Masha’s fate, one thing is for sure:

The Odessa catacombs - a labyrinth of limestone mines lying beneath the streets of Ukraine - has witnessed a series of grotesque events, all of which could easily include the death of Masha.

The story goes that a group of teenagers entered the tunnel in 2005, and one girl - Masha - became separated. Lost and alone, she died of either starvation or dehydration. And it’s no surprise: Masha had no chance of escape, nor survival.

These limestone mines clock up 1500 miles in total, and deservedly have been given the title of the largest catacombs in the world.

These cold, dark tunnels have been used throughout Ukraine’s modern history, including being used as the location for the execution of captured Nazi soldiers during the war - but these were not the only murders committed there.

In 2011, the body of a murder victim was found in the catacombs having been left there for 6 months. And in 2015, yet another innocent Ukrainian met a similar fate. A teenage girl was bludgeoned to death with an axe in the catacombs by her 20 year old boyfriend.

On top of that, this labyrinth encompasses storm drains, caves, drainage tunnels, and basements. And, of course, every urban legend ever seems to start in these dark’n’damp cracks and crevices.

“So this place is like totally haunted, right?”

Uhhh…

Of course claims of hauntings stick close to these catacombs, but specific stories are hard to pinpoint due to the limited access we have to actually explore them. Despite this, there’s no doubt about it: this catacomb is creepy AF.

#2 - Bethnal Green Underground

London has witnessed many major historic moments, and is haunted by both the politics and the paranormal as a result of these events. Bethnal Green underground is no different.

The story goes that during an air raid test in the thick of WW2 panic broke out.

Which, honestly, I’m not surprised, I’d freak the f*ck out, too if I thought an air raid was about to go down.

In an attempt to avoid being bombed, a mad rush of people descended into Bethnal Green underground. The thing is, when you have a huge group of people run for their lives into a very small area underground, sh*t is bound to happen.

And it did.

173 people were trampled to death that day. And some claim they never really left the station.

To this day, screams from women and children still echo ‘round the station, and have been reported by passengers and staff alike. Its for this reason that this activity has been dubbed ‘imprint haunting’.

This is when moments with an atmosphere of high energy are imprinted onto the surroundings, and are repeated or re-enacted.

And yes, being trampled to death whilst running from a potential bombing definitely makes the grade.

#3 - Savannah’s Underground Tunnels

*Cue The Office memes*

As much as I love Oscar being an actual cinnamon-role, the memes about Savannah stop there. Things are about to get gruesome.

Like most of the other underground tunnels and catacombs on this list, these tunnels have witnessed a variety of people being smuggled, killed and buried. This reached its peak of activity in the 19th century.

Take the Yellow Fever epidemic when victims of the virus were buried under the hospital in these tunnels, or when slaves were transported from the harbours to their new masters having experienced tortuous journeys on ships.

But if that wasn’t enough, these tunnels are now reportedly haunted by ghosts still trapped there. The main activity reported and recorded is that of ghostly moans from innocent victims once buried or smuggled through these tunnels - but it’s not traced back to the slaves, nor to those that were left to die in the hospitals:

It’s the sailors once smuggled out to sea.

Legend has it that a tavern is connected to one of the tunnels, and that it was a popular haunt of local sailors. If they just so happened to get absolutely paraletic, they would be smuggled to the ships to continue their duties. In fact, many would wake up hungover and miles out to sea!

Captains supposedly would make a point of hiring such drunkards in order to ensure that their workers - even if they weren’t in the mood for the 9 to 5 - would always make their first shift.

Even if it was against their will. And they were f*ckin’ legless.

#4 - The Drakelow Tunnels

Worcestershire might not sound like the haunting hotspot of Britain… but yeah, no, its not. There’s no plot twist here.

England was one of the countries most affected by the World Wars, still bearing the scars to this day. And, just like Bethnal Green underground, it’s the supernatural scars that always seem to stick out.

During the construction of these tunnels, several construction workers were reported to have died - and gruesome deaths at that. Despite this, in 1941, the tunnels achieved their purpose of being factories for airplane parts, and even became bunkers designed to protect citizens during the Cold War in case nuclear war broke out.

But it was when the tunnels were opened to the public that the paranormal scars began to cut through the past political inflictions. And it’s all down to this bloke called Oswald, reportedly one of the workers who met his fate when building the tunnels.

Fancy a visit?

Then you’ll probably feel a shove in your back, or perhaps something pull on your hair - Oswald is no playful poltergeist. He is a vengeful spirit with a violent streak.

#5 - The Shanghai Tunnels, Portland

I have no idea why these tunnels bare the name of a Chinese city, but that is for sure not the only mystery on the table.

Well, I say mystery - I think ‘misery’ is the correct term to use here.

These tunnels were once used to transport supplies from city harbour to local businesses. You know, food for restaurants and hotels, alcohol to bars and brothels, and sex slaves to most of these establishments.

Nina, however, was one of the woman forced into slavery who testified against her plight, shedding light on the men who trafficked her and her fellow slaves. She was murdered for speaking out, and killed in the most pimpish fashion: being pushed down an elevator shaft in the hotel where she worked.

But Nina never actually left The Merchant Hotel.

She still wanders ‘round the rooms, following the steps down the basement in a black dress and fragranced with a distinctive perfume. She also plays tricks on the staff, perhaps seeking vengeance for those that once reduced her to her final fate…

But she doesn’t stop there: she is often seen in the tunnels, reportedly searching for sex slaves she can rescue or protect from the harm she once faced.

#6 - The Santa Priscilla Catacombs

Italian history has a habit of stumbling into twisted spiritual stories, like the Demonic tales haunting Turin, or the really-weird rumours about Rome, but the Santa Priscilla Catacombs have their own scandalous - and supernatural - past.

In the 17th century, the catacombs were plundered on the orders of the Vatican - this is considered a component in the ‘destruction’ of the catacombs. Among the treasures found were frescoes - watercolour paintings - which depicted female priests leading a mass. This evidence contradicted the bible, and so the paintings were destroyed.

But if you dare venture down to the catacombs, you won’t just find scraps of biblical history. Instead, you’ll find cursed catacombs and angry spirits.

It is claimed that the catacombs were destroyed thanks to the angry and aggressive spirits who sought privacy. Fair enough. They’ve even been rumoured to go beyond the realms of the catacombs, and pushed a carriage up above into a nearby river .

#7 + #8 - The Tennessee Coal Mines (DOUBLE WHAMMY WHADDUPPPPP)

Dark histories have already plagued this post enough, but thanks to the past events contained within the Tennessee coal mines, it seems like the sh*t just doesn’t stop.

When slavery was abolished in the US, southern states had to trade in the slave-based support for their economies for new methods of financial stability. The Knoxville Mine Corporation was one of the companies behind this shift, and hired convicts to work in their coal mines in 1877.

But things went south - yes, even further than the states themselves - when the convicts defied the guards by lighting a fire to cook food.

Oh, I should say here that the mines were full of methane gas. Fires, flammable gases, tight underground tunnels…

It’s all a bit deathy.

So, you won’t be surprised to hear that in 1902, a fire killed over 200 men - but it wasn’t the workers that set the mine alight. It was the ghosts of the convicts who were hungry for vengeance on those that forced them to work in the mines…

Well, that or they wanted a quick snack.

#9 - Fife’s Nuclear Bunker

It was only 4 years ago that yet another nuclear bunker was added to the list of places you wouldn’t want to be in past 8.30pm.

In one of Scotland’s nuclear bunker, a gaggle of mediums claimed that paranormal activity had occurred thanks to the ghosts of military personnel. But it's not just paranormal investigators that have noted the supernatural. Tourists themselves have become sick upon visiting, and others have even fainted thanks to the power of the paranormal felt here.

On top of this, pictures catching glimpses of shadowy figures in former offices have confirmed spooky goings on. Heck, one couple even claimed a spirit followed them home, leaving traces of activity such as moving objects about the house and draining mobile phone batteries.

#10 - The Edinburgh Vaults

Our next underground spook-fest sticks to Scotland, and roots itself in the capital. Also known as the South Bridge Vaults, these are a series of chambers that have witnessed over 200 years worth of history. They’ve been taverns, they've been workshops, they've been storage space for less-than-legal activities…

But it was only during the 1820s that the conditions pushed out the businesses and made way for the poor to move in. The vaults have been investigated by many a TV show, from the iconic (a visit from the team behind Ghost Adventures), to the memeable (a one-off TV special with Joe Swash).

Yes, paranormal investigative-icon, Joe Swash.

But even outside of this meme, some activity was picked up: during the audio recorded overnight, a variety of voices can be heard before the sound of a child yelling. Silence then falls upon the vaults.

The danger of lurking about in the chaotic vaults - teamed with the supernatural rumours echoing off its walls - have meant it is now closed off to the public.

#11 - Sydney’s Train Stations (Yep, All Of ‘Em)

Most underground stations have a creepy claim to fame, but Sydney’s station have their very own set of tales that make me want to skip out a holiday in Australia altogether.

It was all unveiled when a former worker at the station revealed a network of tunnels underneath the city’s stations. There are tunnels, there’s a bomb shelter, and there’s a lake.

(Like, a lake. An actual lake. How in the hell do you put a lake underground?!)

There are also 2 hidden platforms that have never been used - well, according to known records, anyway. Platforms 26 and 27 were built over a cemetery and have witnessed traces of paranormal activity seen and heard by staff. Hearing whispering voices or perhaps the giggles of children playing confirms the creepiness of this location.

Who’s Up For A Gander In The Underground?

Nope, not me. No thanks.

Go on your own and report back pls.

#Living for this post? Then you’ll be #dyin’ to check out my other ones!

(I’m sorry.)

Hit follow to see more supernatural shizzle like this, and a new ghost story every damn day.

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thisyearingaming · 4 years

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1997 - This Year in Gaming

Muggins here was born in ‘97, and can’t really remember much of it, natch. But there were some good things released this year - I’ve played every one of these, and have missed so many more.

Diablo - Windows, January 3rd

We start with dungeon-crawl-em-up and well-loved out of season April Fool’s Joke, Diablo. I’ll be totally honest - I don’t like Diablo that much. It’s absolutely fine, I just can’t get into it. The writing, setting and characters are all very good especially since this year only marks the beginning of games being seen as a bit more adult and intelligent. Check out this gameplay from Hour of Oblivion on YouTube, and marvel at the faux-Scottish accent on Griswold the blacksmith.

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Mario Kart 64 - Nintendo 64, February 10th

Compared to its more recent versions, Mario Kart 64 is a veritable bloody relic of the past - solid controls and a quirky style mean it’s still a crowd pleaser to this day, but you’d be hard pressed to find anyone right now that would die on the hill of it being their favourite single-player racing experience. It’s also got some of the deepest, impenetrable lore in any medium known to the human race - why exactly is Marty the Thwomp locked up here?

Blast Corps - Nintendo 64, February 28th

February’s position as most boring month of the year is shaken up a bit by having a uniquely designed Rare game slammed into its 28-day long face. Blast Corps is the puzzle-action game where you take control of several vehicles to destroy homes and buildings in order to prevent a nuclear warhead exploding in the coolest incarnation of Cold War politicking ever seen in a video game. Calling Blast Corps a “hidden gem” these days is like calling Celeste a hidden gem - it impresses nobody and makes you look like a dick.

Turok: Dinosaur Hunter - Nintendo 64, March 4th

The N64 was home to a surprisingly large number of above-average shooters despite its muddy graphics and small cartridge space - Turok is one of these, a great FPS game where you shoot the SHIT out of dinosaurs. Brett Atwood of Billboard said it was like Doom and Tomb Raider mixed - Doom Raider, if you will. I say it isn’t - there’s no demons, and there’s no polygonal breasts to poke dinosaurs’ eyes out with!

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night - Sony PlayStation, March 20th

What is a retrospective? A miserable little pile of opinions. I’ve only recently played through SotN for the very first time on a TOTALLY LEGITIMATE copy with a CRT filter. Bloody good (geddit?) game, that takes the repetition of its predecessors, improves on it in basically every conceivable way, and combines it with special effects and graphics that even 23 years later had me going “ooh, that looks quite good!” Symphony’s music and audio design are wonderfully paired with a deeply enjoyable experience that’ll have you saying “mm, maybe just one more room?”

Tekken 3 - Sony PlayStation, March 20th

Also releasing from the Land of the Rising Sun that day was Tekken 3, which many believe is still one of the best fighters ever made. Tekken 3′s combat is so fast and responsive that it’s better than some games made today. T3 is also the best and easiest way to knock seven shades of absolute shite out of your friends without risking a massive head injury or a trip to the headmaster’s office... where you could also challenge him, but only if he plays as my favourite Not-Guile-or-Ken character in gaming, Paul.

Sonic Jam - Sega Saturn, June 20th

The moment Sega realised that re-packaging old Mega Drive games would net them serious cash - although unlike later collections, this is a strictly Sonic affair, and has a neat little 3D world to run around in as a sort of hub world. Sonic X-Treme proved that Sonic Team would have to work hard at getting the fastest thing alive into 3D space properly: Jam is the sort of test ground for it too. It features some genuinely good emulation work for 1997, although it’s basically the gaming equivalent of going round to your grandparents at Christmas only for them to give you the exact same gifts you got in 1991, 1992 and 1994 but wrapped in a bow to make you think it’s different. What are you lookin’ at, you little blue devil?

Star Fox 64 - Nintendo 64, June 30th

So there’s this German company, right, called StarVox. Nintendo look at Europe and say “shit, we don’t want another lawsuit... after all, we’ve done three this year!”. So they give us in the PAL region the exciting title of Lylat Wars which as far as I know means absolutely fucking nothing in the context of the game. They’re still called Star Fox in-game too so what was the point? Anyway, fun 3D shooter with graphics that’ll make you do a barrel roll off the sofa and onto the power button to make the brown and green blurs a little easier on the eyes. Hello 2007, I’ve come back to make old references with you!

Carmageddon - Windows, July 30th

The game so scary it was BANNED in the UK! More like the game so fucking shit it was banned. Carmageddon is so deeply boring to play on PC that I can only imagine that Stainless Games made it tasteless by 90s standards simply to ramp up demand - much like another game we’ll be covering soon.

Herc’s Adventures - Sony PlayStation, July 31st

“And they said Kratos was the best hero? Shish... they got it wrong, sister! Hercules is clearly better... he even has a coconut weapon.” A surprisingly fun overhead action game that most people only know for... well, I’ll just embed it.

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Mega Man X4 - Sony Playstation, August 1st

A few years ago I tried playing every Mega Man game there is - I gave up at X3 because I was getting bored. Even still, Mega Man bores me - but at least the level design is good. Stay away from the Windows port. Pictured: me in the background yawning.

GoldenEye 007 - Nintendo 64, August 25th

The name’s Intro. Overused intro which I also managed to fuck up twice through the deeply editable medium of text. GoldenEye is like the Seinfeld of console shooters - playing it nowadays you’re unlikely to be amazed but holy shit there’s some absolute greatness in this game. Every sound and every piece of music in GoldenEye is permanently seared into my brain - sometimes I’ll just hear Facility or Frigate in my head alongside the door opening sound and the gentle PEW of the PP7. I mean come on, fucking listen to this and tell me Grant Kirkhope isn’t cool as all hell.

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LEGO Island - Windows, September 26th

The first open world experience I ever had was LEGO Island. It’s still quite good today, utterly deranged animation from the likes of the Infomaniac and Brickster - a cautionary tale for children that giving pizza to high-profile criminals is disastrous for the human LEGO race.

Fallout - Windows, October 10th

War never changes, but franchises do. Fallout’s legendary status in the industry is exemplified in how different it feels. Yes, we had the game Wasteland nine years prior, but until September 97 there was nothing quite like Fallout. From the chilling introduction sequence showing the ruins of the United States to the tragic ending, Fallout is an exercise in pure human misery with the brightest spots of hope it can possibly muster thrown in for good measure. What begins as a tedious isometric point-and-click RPG ends as a minigun-wielding power fantasy, before your entire worth is stripped from you at the finish line. You have 500 days to find a water chip before it’s too late, but you’re constantly being fought by terrifying Super Mutants, irradiated animals, and the biggest monster of all - humanity. See what I did there? If anything, humanity in Fallout’s setting would be the greatest unifying force possible against the horror of the outside world. But how is it? It’s dull, it’s sluggish, and it’s really hard to get into even if you’re already a fan - but push through that and it’s worthwhile to see exactly how far the series got before Todd Howard said “eh fuck it” and had the whole thing dipped into an FEV vat.

Grand Theft Auto - Sony PlayStation, October 21st

To put it simply, the first in the GTA series is now nothing but a novelty. It has an irritating camera, wonky controls, poor graphics and deeply repetitive gameplay. But thank fuck it exists, because without it the Rockstar story may have been very different indeed. It’s quintessential cops and robbers gameplay, spanning across Liberty City, Vice City and San Andreas in one game, but with maps so far removed from their modern incarnations they may as well be named “Not New York, Possibly Bristol and Orange Town”. People really fucking hated Hare Krishnas in the 20th Century, didn’t they?

Crash Bandicoot 2: Cortex Strikes Back - Sony PlayStation, October 31

A hard one to talk about, honestly - it’s more Crash and better than the first one. It looks great, and Crash controls so well compared to his first outing. It’ll also keep you playing for 100%, fiendishly addictive and unashamedly difficult. Had a weird cover that moved with your head.

PaRappa the Rapper - Sony PlayStation, November 17th

Type type type the words into the box! (Type, type, type - uh oh - the box?)

PaRappa is a gorgeously stylised rhythm game about rapping to steal the heart of the girl of your dreams - which involves learning karate, getting your driver’s license, selling bottle caps and frogs, making a cake, desperately trying not to shit yourself, and finally performing live on stage. Every one of its segments is so well-produced that they’d genuinely sell like ghost cookies in this era of shite rap. Notable for producing the greatest Jay-Z backing track ever made.

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Sonic R - Sega Saturn, November 18th

Sonic R is absolutely FINE with vibrant textures, interesting levels, neat gimmicks and decent controls. But I’m gonna talk about its fucking AWESOME soundtrack by Richard Jacques and T.J. Davis, an eclectic mix of Europop and New Jack Swing - even thinking about it is bringing tears of absolute joy to my eyes hearing Super Sonic Racing in my head. You’ve got the main theme, Living in the City, Can You Feel the Sunshine, Back in Time, Diamond in the Sky, Work It Out and Number One - all of these are absolute club bangers and genuinely wouldn’t be out of place in a 90s disco.

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Tomb Raider II - Sony PlayStation, November 18th

Lara Croft returns to single-handedly endanger every species on Earth. TR2 is really good, the exploration and puzzle-solving aspects of the first game expanded upon here and the gunplay remaining just as punchy. Lara’s got a fully-functioning ponytail which absolutely boggles the fucking mind - a lot of work went into Lara’s hair for the 2013 reboot, so I can’t imagine the amount of man hours it took to get fluid(ish, come on, it’s the PS1 we’re talking about) hair movements in 1997.

And really, that’s all I played from 1997. I’ve left out big hitters like Quake II, Gran Turismo and Diddy Kong Racing, but I simply haven’t formed an opinion on them yet. Maybe in a future post.

Thanks for reading.

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idiopathicsmile · 6 years

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Why You May Already Be A Unitarian Universalist! Or, a short guide to the goofy hippie aunt of the theological world (but the kind of aunt who has been to protests and Seen Some Shit)

Do any of these sound like you:

“I’d like a safe setting to explore my spiritual beliefs, but I’ve got baggage about organized religion!”

“I wish there was a church for atheists!”

“I wish there was a church for people who aren’t sure if they believe in god or not!”

“Over the years I’ve slowly assembled a highly personal grab-bag of spiritual beliefs and practices, but I miss service projects and singing hymns and drinking coffee on Sundays!”

“I need a religious community that supports rights for people of all genders, races, religious beliefs, sexual or affectional orientations, ability statuses, and national origins!”

“I want to raise my kids in a church that offers an extremely comprehensive, LGBTQA-friendly, shame-free sex ed program to all teenagers!”

Or conversely,

“I’ve already found a different personal belief system that feels right for me, but I am intellectually curious about where you’re going with this!” (Perfectly valid!)

If any of the above is true, or if you just feel like killing some time on the internet (also valid), read on!

“So, what do you guys believe?”

Modern Unitarian Universalism is a religion without a creed. That means you can be UU while believing in as many or as few deities as you want (including none or “I don’t know” or even “the very question doesn’t feel that important to me”). There is no consensus within the church on an afterlife (if any), or a holy book (if any), or even which holidays to celebrate, other than presumably, like, the birthdays of your friends and loved ones.

Plenty of UUs identify as agnostic or atheist, but we also have members whose beliefs are informed by Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, earth-centered/Pagan traditions, and/or Humanism, among others.

Asking an individual UU about their beliefs is sort of like asking someone about their taste in music. It’s meaningful to them, it’s shaped by their own history and experiences, and no two people will have exactly the same answer.

“Wait, you guys don’t agree on anything? What even brings you together?”

A DEEP AND EVERLASTING LOVE OF COMMITTEES.

No, sorry, that was a hilarious joke playing off an old Unitarian Universalist stereotype, which is that we are super into discussing things and then voting on them as a group.

Hilarious.

It’s hard to speak for all Unitarian Universalists, and some of them might quibble with the exact wording I’m about to use, but I feel like part of what makes us a bonafide religion is a deep shared conviction that trying your hardest to be kind, fair, and moral is itself sacred.

“If you can’t agree on a religious text, how in the world are you guys on the same page about what it means to be moral?”

I mean, sometimes we’re not? We like a good debate.

But although we don’t have a creed, we do have a common set of principles we try to use as a guide. Here they are, straight from the Unitarian Universalist Association website:

The inherent worth and dignity of every person;

Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;

Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;

A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;

The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;

The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;

Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

“Uh, that’s compatible with every world religion and also, like, Captain Planet.”

Listen, nobody in the Unitarian Universalist church is gonna stop you from using a nineties environmentalism cartoon as a holy text. Embrace your truths. As a group of young sages once said, “Saving our planet is the thing to do.”

“I already believe all of those principles. Am I a Unitarian Universalist?”

I mean, if you want to be!

…although the definition of a UU is broad enough these days that we’ve got a quirky (and in retrospect maybe kind of problematic?) habit of retroactively claiming dead historical figures* who demonstrated a belief in the seven principles during their lives. Like, “That person PROBABLY WOULD’VE BEEN Unitarian Universalist, given the chance! One of us! One of us!”

That said, if you’re reading this, you’re probably alive, so at least for the time being it is your call!

*I am now bound by ancient UU law to list to you some dead historical figures who actually self-identified as Unitarian Universalists (or Unitarians or Universalists, since the two didn’t meld together until a series of meetings in the 1960’s):

Olympia Brown (the first fully ordained female minister in the U.S., also an abolitionist and feminist)

President John Quincy Adams

Joseph Priestley (18th century theologian credited with discovering oxygen)

Ralph Waldo Emerson and a number of the early American Transcendentalists

Louisa May Alcott

Elizabeth Gaskell (author of North and South, among others)

Rod Serling (Twilight Zone creator)

Beatrix Potter

Pete flippin’ Seeger, hell yeahhhhhh

“Who runs this show?”

Rife as it would be for comic possibility, there is no Unitarian Pope. There are no cardinals. Authority is for the most part pretty decentralized. Individual congregations govern themselves, through committees and elections. A minister has to be approved by their congregation before it’s official.

Those Seven Principles above came, like I said, from the Unitarian Universalist Association, which is made up of delegates from churches all over the country, and every year they get together and vote on major stuff. But yeah, congregation to congregation, things can vary pretty widely in terms of how they do stuff, or even whether to use the word “church.” (Some instead call themselves a “society,” or a “fellowship.”)

“What the heck does a UU hymn even sound like?”

Oh man, this reminds me of that classic Unitarian Universalist joke, “Why are Unitarians so bad at hymns?”

Answer: “Because they’re too busy reading ahead to make sure they agree with all the lyrics!”

Priceless.

But in reality, some of our songs are, like, transcendentalist poems that have been awkwardly squeezed onto the melody of some older hymn or classical piece. Sometimes you sing John Lennon’s “Imagine,” seemingly without a trace of irony. Sometimes you’ve got old spirituals about justice (like I said, things can tip towards well-intentioned appropriation) or Christian hymns that have been revised to be nondenominational and gender-inclusive. Sometimes you break out the classics, like “This Little Light of Mine.”

Here’s one of my all-time faves, which is based on a translation of a poem by 13th century Persian philosopher and mystic Rumi. You’ve got to wait until the rounds kick in. So good.

“What’s the official stance on rights for the LGBTQ+ community?”

It’s formally recognized by the UUA that our seven principles are totally incompatible with homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, or any other type of bigotry.

Because the power is so decentralized, I can’t say that every congregation has always been enlightened, but as religions go, I think it’s pretty widely accepted that the UU church has long been on the forefront of LGBTQ+ rights. There have been UU ministers performing same-sex marriage ceremonies since at least the seventies, and there’s a long history of activism within the church.

The UUA website has a section detailing our ongoing efforts to be inclusive of all genders and orientations. If you’re a member of the LGBTQ+ community and nervous about visiting a UU church for the first time, you might also want to aim for one of the churches that’s specifically opted into our Welcoming Congregation Program, which requires the congregation to go through special training and to offer gender-neutral bathrooms, among other things. (Most UU churches at this point have opted in. If you’re trying to find the closest location that’s also a Welcoming Congregation, there’s a checkbox you can click on this handy look-up tool.)

“So for decades when American politicians were arguing that same-sex couples couldn’t marry because it ‘went against religion’, it literally went against this particular religion to discriminate against those same couples?”

Yes. Yes, it was. The Bush years were a weird time.

“What’s the official stance on racial justice?”

We’re in favor of it. (Again: if you take those seven principles seriously, there’s no pussyfooting around opposing racism.)

I’m not gonna lie: at least in the suburban midwest UU churches I’ve attended, we are by and large, uh, pretty white. So I can’t really speak to whether or not a person of color would feel comfortable there. I’d imagine it would widely vary by individual and by congregation.

Our track record with Civil Rights is probably on par with any ultra-liberal, service-based American religion. We had a lot of early white abolitionists (given how low the bar was back then, I’m sure many would be considered racist by today’s standards), we had members active in the Civil Rights movement (if you saw Selma, that minister who gets killed by an angry mob was one of ours), and I think there was even a while pre-McCarthyism where we were closely allied with socialism and our members included some people of color who were key activists in confronting racism and supporting unions.

And then the Red Scare happened and our religion barely survived and we leaned away from socialism, and since then we’ve always kinda been predominantly an upper to middle class white liberal thing, with all the blinders that implies.

But a lot of UU churches have expressed solidarity with Black Lives Matter and with the protests at Standing Rock, and there is a growing movement within the church to confront and examine any latent white supremacy in ourselves and in our congregations.

One of the things that endeared me to my current church was when the minister announced that we were all invited to a racial justice protest, which had been organized by a black Christian church in the Chicagoland area. And the minister said, essentially,

“Listen, they are going to use religious wording that may not align with your personal beliefs. And what I need you to do is imagine you’ve got a Universal Translator like in Star Trek. And if they say “the glory of God” and it makes you uncomfortable, think “the glory of human kindness.” If they say “the spirit of the Lord”, you can think “the spirit of Life.” Because these Christians are out there doing the work that fits with our deepest values, and in the end, we have more in common than not. Sometimes we need to get over ourselves, and follow where they lead.”

At our worst, I’d characterize us as well-meaning but clueless (i.e. using the stories or imagery of world religions as a metaphor, in a way that flirts with appropriation). At our best, we’ve got some activists of color on the front lines, doing cool shit.

“This all sounds...so incredibly Politically Correct…”

Yeah, we strive to be accepting of everyone but I should warn you upfront that if P.C. culture upsets you, Unitarian Universalism is probably not gonna be a good fit.

“Did you say something about comprehensive sex ed for teens? In church?”

I certainly did! Through the OWL (Our Whole Lives) program, specially trained adults teach the youths a multi-year curriculum about bodily autonomy, consent, respect, healthy communication, gender identity, sexual orientation, safe sex (including passing around condoms and dental dams), destigmatizing sexuality, and relationships, among other things. Also, you can anonymously submit questions at any point, and your teachers will do some research and provide an answer next week.

When I was young, this was seventh and eighth grade Sunday school. I think since then, they developed the program to include age-appropriate components for younger kids, and to focus more on high schoolers.

“Seriously?”

When my older brother went through an earlier iteration of the program, the curriculum included a slideshow with photos of actual naked people, who were just random UU volunteers from the seventies. By the time it was my turn, these had been replaced by tasteful charcoal drawings.

“So on a scale from one to ten, how warped is your brother?”

He’s doing great! Actually, he’s a member of his local UU church and a volunteer OWL teacher. Though if I had to guess, he’s probably pretty relieved he doesn’t have to contend with those slides.

“Where can I find out more about Unitarian Universalism?”

Here’s the UUA website. Here’s that nearest-church-finding tool I mentioned before. If you don’t know if you’re ready to jump from 0 to physically stepping into a sanctuary, especially if you’ve got a bit of that ol’ social anxiety, here’s the ask that reminded me to post this whole mess in the first place, about how to maybe ease yourself into things a little first.

“Hang on…if you break these words down into their roots, ‘Unitarian’ implies existence of a single god, as opposed to the widely accepted Christian trinity, while ‘Universalism’ surely refers to the notion of universal salvation, meaning that both terms seem to point to a specific concrete (if perhaps somewhat heretical) doctrine based around Christian concepts like God, Jesus, and Heaven—meaning, in short, that the very name of your religion seems to belie the nigh-endless spiritual possibility you’ve been describing in this blog post…what gives?”

Well, you’re not wrong. The name at this point is largely vestigial. But to understand how we ended up where we are today, and how we arrived there with this awkward polysyllabic soup of a name, I’m gonna need to take you through a couple of centuries of heated theological debate.

“Do you NEED to?”

I mean, ‘need’ is relative, but that’s definitely my plan!

Stay tuned for part II, “A (Very Very Very) Informal History of Unitarians, Universalists, and their Unholy (or Possibly Very Holy) Melding”

#not tryin to push my faith but i do think plenty of folks are already secret UUs #and just need a word for it #and in times like these it can be really good to stand in a room of people with your values #who are sad and angry as you are and for the same reasons #and searching out hope and community despite it all

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turnsoutnoonewasexaggerating · 7 years

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Part 3 of The Sam Diaries

Read on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10507836/chapters/23186556

Sam’s girlfriend had hung every newspaper clipping she could find that discussed Neil Josten’s recent stabbing (Sam was horrified to find out there had been more than one. His girlfriend had merely gestured to her face, indicating Neil’s scars, and Sam had realised he was just as much of an idiot as she always claimed) around their bedroom walls.

Every night when he’d come home from his new job that week she’d made a big deal of giving him a fanfare through the door, and when he’d complained had written ‘Mine and Neil Josten’s hero’ on his forehead in sharpie. He’d had to restyle his hair for the next four days to hide it, for which he got more odd looks than he thought the words would have.

Today when he comes home, it turns out his girlfriend has something even more brilliant planned.

“No way! But you just released a new flavour two weeks ago!” He crows as he steps out of his shoes and wraps his arms round her. She leans into him with a contented hum before pushing him away again, getting back to scooping out ice cream in their only-for-ice-cream-testing bowls. Hers was a swirly blue and green bowl he’d picked out for her on their second date from a stall on the beach they’d walked down, and his was obnoxiously orange with ‘MINYARD 03’ written across in white.

As ever, the tub she was scooping ice-cream out of was unlabelled, so he’d have to guess the flavour. It was her fairly fool-proof system; if he didn’t recognise the flavour, no-one would. Regardless of whether Sam liked the ice-cream she’d come up with or not, he treasures these evenings above all others, because they were entirely theirs. “I love you so much.” He proclaims loudly as he moves to the other side of the table and into his seat at their tiny kitchen table.

“Because I’m enabling your ‘all eat no exercise’ lifestyle?” She teases, looking at his much squishier stomach. Ironic really, that it was his girlfriend that owned the ice-cream parlour but he was chubbier.

“Hey you say you like me being comfy!” He grins back, and finds his breath catching slightly when she smiles, because holy hell he didn’t understand it until he loved her but now it makes sense when people talk about living off their partner’s smile. He doesn’t need it like he needs air to breathe or food to eat, water to drink, he just loves it, just wants to cause it, interaction and reaction for as long as she’ll have him.

“Eh it’s just cheaper than getting working central heating and a new pillow.” She shoves his bowl over to him as he snorts. “Eat your ice cream then, you banana.” He narrows his eyes in mock-anger at the nickname, though he’s still legitimately annoyed at his mom for sharing that story. To cut it short; when he was sick with fever age five, he’d had a delirious breakdown about turning into a banana if he touched one. He still didn’t like them, but he saw the funny side.

He takes a spoonful, resisting his usual urge to just scoop as much of it into his mouth in one go as he could, and tries to hide his grimace at how cold it is on his teeth. He squints as he tries to work out the flavour, while his girlfriend looks at him expectantly.

“I want to say orange marshmallows? It’s weird but I kind of like it.”

“It’s you.” His girlfriend says, with uncharacteristic seriousness, and Sam almost drops his spoon. It was on their first date that he’d learned she owned the ice cream place he frequented, not just worked there, and she’d jokingly told him she could never leave a guy she made an ice cream flavour of, because hearts were fickle but ice cream was forever.

“Why orange marshmallows?” The size of their table makes it easy for her to reach over and poke him in the stomach with her spoon.

“Marshmallows.” Then she taps her spoon against his bowl. “Orange.”

“What’s it called?”

“Well I was going to go for something cheesy like ‘hero’ and then I thought ‘nah, I’ll just call it Sam’. Now if it sells I’ll have the pleasure of hearing people ask ‘can I have one scoop of Sam?’”

“A scoop of Sam. I like it.”

We fast forward through the night and the majority of the next morning which Sam spends figuratively shitting himself and literally smiling and going about his normal day.

Here’s some things you should know about Sam’s girlfriend, other than she was into Exy and owned an ice cream parlour. Her parents drove backwards off a cliff the day after her 18th birthday leaving her with the ice cream parlour and a million questions she’d never get answered. She had a whole life outside of Sam, but Sam was a very big part of her life. She was once offered to be recommended for the Foxes, but she turned it down to keep running the ice cream parlour which she doesn’t regret.

Today, she was at work, introducing her new flavour of ice cream, Sam, and reviewing over the list of candidates for the newly vacated part-time position. When she’d first introduced Sam to Exy, she’d started with the Foxes. She’d finished explaining their entry requirements and was about to launch into the rules of the game when Sam had interrupted.

“What about the kids who don’t play Exy?” He’d blushed and stuttered something awful after that, apologising about thirteen times for interrupting before she could get him back to the point. “I just mean that it’s brilliant what that coach is doing… But not every kid is athletic, you know?”

It was like he’d thrown a wrench into the way she viewed things. She was so incredibly lucky to actually own an establishment and be able to make a change. Sure, it wasn't going to rocket launch you to fame and glory like the Foxes, but she could offer kids with nothing else a chance to make some money and fund the life fate was determined not to grant them.

From then she’d only hired staff who needed a second chance. It didn’t always work, the kids had stolen the till more than once but the risk was worth being proud of herself every time she looked in the mirror.

Sam walks into his girlfriend’s store almost glad, for the first time since it had happened, that he’d almost been stabbed to death in an alleyway by Andrew Minyard, because it makes this seem slightly less daunting.

Slightly.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” His girlfriend asks, confused, but with that smile already curling her lips. She takes her time walking out from behind the desk, a little furrow forming between her brows as she comes closer. “Is everything alright?”

He breathes in, breathes out, and concentrates on that smile. He manages to get on one knee without falling over, which had been a legitimate concern. Her eyes widen comically as a gasp silences all the customers in the store and several of the employees slap excited hands over their mouths.

“I looked up what Eunoia means the other day. It’s a pretty name, if awfully difficult to guess how to pronounce on first glance, and I was hoping it would mean something better than ‘God had heard’ like mine.” Sam looks at her, and the world drops away around them. “It means beautiful thinking. I can’t begin to tell you how apt that is. Your mannerisms, your optimism, that goddamn smile, this place and everything about it. Your thoughts are beautiful and you are a beautiful thought, a dream that I have had the honour of being with. You make feel so happy, and safe and cherished and I want to do the same for you, for the rest of my life if you’ll have me. I love you.” There are tears welling up in Eunoia’s eyes now, and Sam still can’t take his eyes off her. “Eunoia, will you-”

“For fuck’s sake I just wanted an ice cream.” Andrew Minyard’s flat voice and Neil Josten’s loud ‘shhhhh’ cuts through his speech like a knife into butter (or flesh; honestly it’s probably more likely to go through the flesh; butter is hard). Eunoia looks from Sam to Andrew and Neil and back again, blinking rapidly.

“You couldn’t have waited until I’d finished the question?” Sam says, not even annoyed because really, what had he expected? Andrew shrugs.

“You’re lucky he didn’t make retching noises.” Neil comments, and although he is serious it sounds like an insult.

“Excuse me?” Eunoia snaps back. “Sam straight up saves you from bleeding to death on a bench and you couldn’t do the common courtesy of not being assholes for two minutes?”

“I want Sam.” Andrew says, before Neil can apologise, or whatever it was that he was actually going to say but Sam’s hoping it was an apology for his own sanity. Sam realises Andrew’s pointing at the ice cream counter. Neil continues to stare at Andrew’s face.

“Oh you want it, huh? Thought you wanted nothing.” Andrew uses his outstretched arm to push Neil’s face away from his and towards the counter. “Wait, you can read those labels from over here?” The store isn’t that big, more cosy, and the labels are printed fairly largely. Andrew glares at Neil.

“You need glasses.”

“Um, Eunoia?” She spins back to look at Sam.

“Oh my god Sam I am so sorry-” He grins, rolling his eyes because, hell, at least this proposal will be original.

“Will you marry me, yes or no?” There’s a slightly sharper intake of breath from both Andrew and Neil, but Eunoia’s the only one Sam currently cares about.

“Yes! Of course oh my god Sam I love you so much.” He stands, and she kisses him, and the shop bursts into applause, and Sam feels like he’s flying (but not in a plane because they terrify him, and also in some parallel world where birds don’t exist because he dislikes them too). They’re both smiling too much to kiss properly but no-one cares.

No-one except Andrew Minyard apparently.

“You forgot the ring idiot.” Sam pulls back from Eunoia reluctantly, keeping both arms wrapped around her.

“Not all weddings use rings you uncultured asshole.” There are a few shocked titters and mutters of ‘do you think he knows that’s Andrew Minyard’ but louder than all of them is Neil’s stuttering laugh.

“He’s right you know.” Neil manages, after he’s calmed down enough to speak. Andrew tips his head in acknowledgement, and then swings his head over to the ice cream counter. Eunoia narrows her eyes at him.

“First you almost stab my boy- fiancé, then you interrupt his proposal and criticise it and now you’re expecting me to sell you ice cream?” Andrew sighs but then Eunoia’s off, flitting away back behind the counter and into the storage room, returning with a whole tub of Sam, another of her bestseller; Easy Win (chocolate upon chocolate upon chocolate basically) and another of When Life Gives You Lemons (a lemon sorbet). “That’ll be $66 please.” She says in her typical customer service voice, and Sam snorts.

Andrew, for some reason, flinches slightly, but he reaches into his pocket without another word. Strangely, what he gets out is not a wallet of any description, but an envelope. He passes it to her.

“Congratulations on your engagement.” He says, with his customary dead-eyed stare as Neil grabs a few notes from his wallet and tells her to put the change in the tip jar. Andrew lifts the three ice cream tubs with ease, though Sam’s fairly certain it’s only him that catches Neil staring at the way the muscles in his biceps bunch up, and that’s only because he’s looking too. Eunoia holds up the envelope with a question in her gaze.

“Plane tickets and passes to our next Exy game.” Neil explains. Sam doesn’t understand why Eunoia looks so stunned.

“But your next game is in Greece!” Ah, that’s why.

“Oh what a shame, must have forgotten.” Andrew says, dully. Neil grins.

“Sorry for interrupting the proposal Sam. Your chance to sit through a full Exy game.”

“Or to jib off at half time.” Andrew offers.

“Thank you.” Sam responds, and Andrew scoffs.

“Come on, Neil. Places to be, ice cream to eat.” With that Andrew and Neil head out of the store, and Sam turns back to Eunoia only to get tackled from the side as she pulls him into jumping up and down in excitement with her.

“Oh my god oh my god this is the best day of my life!”

“That had better half be because of the fact we’re engaged.” He returns and she nods enthusiastically, apparently too overcome to speak. She settles for kissing him again instead and, well, Sam’s not going to complain.

#my fic #my OC Sam #andreil #andrew minyard #Neil josten #tfc #aftg

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