#collected so self destructively that the idea of having anything to do with its publication makes me hate myself. everytime someone tells | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miekasa · 3 years

Note

do you have any cute (or h-word) bf headcanons for the Aot boys mie?

Of course I do, I have an ever-expanding list of headcanons for all of them, from how they react to you sitting in the backseat when they pick you up, down to whether or not they would rip your bandages off after your get a shot (spoiler: Eren, Porco, and Levi fucking would)

EREN sfw

He really likes holding hands, though it’s more of a calming habit for him. Holding hands keeps him grounded, and acts as an anchor for his anxiety; so he’ll grab and/or fidget with yours periodically.

He’ll steal your skincare if he’s over at your place, but honestly he just starts… copying it lmfao. Like, he’ll take notice of your face wash when he’s over he’s like “Oh, this is nice” and then a week later, he buys a bottle for himself. Then he buys your toner, and your moisturizer, and you stay over at his place and gotta do a double take bc he’s got damn near the same of everything at this point.

He doesn’t know if he believes that classical music actually helps him to concentrate, but he does know that he’s grown to like it, so it’s become his studying music of choice. He’s got favorite composers and everything.

He’d be upset if you didn’t steal his hoodies. That’s what they’re there for. He’ll make you steal them if he has to.

He hates standing in line. For anything. If he likes a restaurant that gets super busy at lunch, he’ll order ahead for pickup (and he feels special skipping the line). At amusement parks, he pays for the fast passes. If it’s shopping, then he’d rather just do it online.

On that note, he sucks at returning things that don’t fit/he doesn’t like when he shops online, so he honestly just keeps them, or gives them to his friends—it’s much easier than going through the hassle of printing a return label, according to him.

nsfw

He likes the idea of recording you guys during sex, but he’s honestly a little too nervous to do it—nervous about being recorded himself, and about it potentially getting out somewhere.

Likes it when you look him in the eyes when you cum. In fact, he somewhat demands it.

Similarly, he’s always watching you during sex. Mostly your face, for indications of how he’s making you feel and when you’re close to your orgasm (which is why he’s got a thing for you looking at him).

He used to hate masturbating, until he tried masturbating to the idea of you, and now he fucking loves that. He takes his time with it too—if he’s gonna jack off, he’s gonna make a moment of it: sit on his bed, turn the lights off, make sure he’s all alone and can go for as long as he wants.

Threesomes are fine with him, and he doesn’t even have to be the sole one in charge, depending on who’s joining you.

ARMIN sfw

He air-dries the majority of his clothes because he doesn’t want his sweaters and knitwear to shrink. Also, he likes the smell of his fabric softener permeating the room while the clothes dry.

On a similar note, he’s got sensitive skin—not to the point where a shirt less than 75% cotton irritates him; but he is conscious of fabrics and products he uses. Because of this, he takes extra care with his laundry, his pillowcases and bedsheets are satin as are the majority of his pajama shirts, and he never ever walks around without house slippers or he’ll irritate the bottom of his feet.

He’s scared of bugs, but he doesn’t like to kill them either. Honestly, he just kinda hopes spiders and stuff will crawl away without him intervening 😭😭

He likes board games, and has a thing for The Game of Life. He cannot play chess, even though most people would guess that he could, and he’s begun to practice by playing online versions against computers to learn.

He knows everyone’s gossip because everyone comes to him to gossip. And if he’s the therapist friend, then you’re the person who receives the summary of all the tea from him at the end of the week. And man can this boy throw a bitch fest when he’s in the right mood.

nsfw

He’s got a bit of an oral fixation, so he really likes having your mouth occupied; with his fingers, with your panties, with his dick—he’s not really picky.

Likes sex with the lights on. Claims it’s because he wants to “see all of you” (it’s really because he’s nervous he’ll fuck something up if he can’t see properly 😭😭)

He really likes making out. Like, a lot. Though it’s not something that happens often—so he builds up a lot of frustrating thinking about it, and it all comes crashing down, and ends up with you guys damn near dry humping each other on the couch for two hours.

That’s something that applies to him generally, too—he tends to let himself get very frustrated and worked up, whether he means to or not. He also thinks about sex quite frequently, and it only fuels his frustration; so when he snaps, he snaps hard.

He’d let you choke him back if you asked. Just ask nicely.

JEAN sfw

Loves studying in cafés and adores when you study with him; peeps up at you periodically when you sit across from him. He always pays for your drink, but sometimes you guys share, and he likes making a game out of reaching for the cup at the same time as you.

He’s very chivalrous, but he hates when you call him out for it, or make any kind of deal of it. He knows it’s chivalry, but he also knows it’s the bare minimum, plus he’s easily embarrassed—especially in public.

Loves having his hair played with, absolutely adores it. If you’re just holding his face, or resting your hand on his cheek, he’ll move himself further into your touch to maneuver your palm closer to his hair.

He really really really likes back hugs—giving and receiving them. If he’s standing behind you, he’ll most likely reach for a hug at some point (sometimes he won’t let go and you’ve gotta waddle with him on you). His ears get red when you give him a back hug but he always uses a hand to rest over your arms to tell you that he doesn’t want you to let go.

He can play the piano, but he doesn’t tell a soul about it. The only reason you found out it through his mom. He’s got stage fright, so he gave up on performing, but he’s really talented, and can almost play any song by ear.

nsfw

He loves the feeling of your hands on him, particularly if you’ve got long nails. Please scrape your nails against his back, or even just dig them into his biceps while he’s fucking you, it’ll drive him insane.

Along with liking having his hair played with, he adores having it pulled on—the attention and desperation in your actions goes straight to his ego and his dick.

One of his biggest fantasies is getting a lap dance from you. He’d never ever fucking say it out loud or dream of asking for it, but the idea of you stripping in front of him, down to lingerie he’d picked out for you, and teasing him until he can’t take it anymore and jumps you is something he thinks about… far more often than he should.

If you’re wearing his clothes (especially one of his t-shirts to bed, or around his apartment), he’s gonna fuck you in it. Jean has a lot of self control, but that’s one thing that’ll make him snap in an instant. And if you wear his shirt or hoodie out, he’s fucking you when you get home, it’s as simple as that.

CONNIE sfw

He studies with children’s shows playing the background. He doesn’t remember how he discovered that his method works for him, all he knows is that something about Paw Patrol makes for excellent background noise for writing his research papers.

He’s quite touchy with PDA, but if you guys are in a crowd then forget about it—because Connie might forget about you. He’s definitely left you at the grocery store before.

He eats cereal for breakfast every morning, and he’s kind of got a collection of them in his kitchen. He claims there are upscale cereals that he doesn’t just let anybody eat or even touch; so, if he offers you a midnight snack consisting of a bowl of his favorite (and very rare) cereal, then be honored.

He almost always pays with cash, but he hates change. If he gets back coins, he either tells the cashier to keep them, puts them in a tip jar if there’s one in sight, or just pours them into your coat pocket. He understands that its money, but he’ll be damned if he’s just got a sack full of nickels clanging around in his bag.

nsfw

He claims he doesn’t have a thing for exhibitionism, but with the way he’s down to fuck damn near anywhere, he might be a bold faced liar. Changing rooms, music festivals, airport bathrooms, the little corner of the multilevel parking lot that he’s oh-so-certain is in the blindspot of the security cameras... there are so few things off-limits with him.

Car sex on his bucket list… just not in his car lmfao (because trust and believe that’s something that already happens pretty regularly). Maybe his real kink is vandalism and destruction of property.

He is not above begging you to sit on his face. He will get on his knees and pant like a fucking dog for you to do it, he’s so serious. He’ll do it laying down, he’ll do it with you standing up/against a wall, he’ll do it on the couch. Break his neck please he’s fucking asking for it.

He doesn’t mind sharing and he definitely doesn’t mind watching. Honestly, he’d egg you on to kiss someone else at a party, or go as far as to seduce you into seducing someone else just so he can watch it go down.

PORCO sfw

He sends you iMessage games but only the ones he’s good at because he doesn’t like to lose. But also, if he is losing, he doesn’t want you to be supportive about it and tell him “it’s okay uwu” lmfao he wants to either cream you, or have you kick his ass; competition is the name of the game, don’t be soft on him.

He’s a morning person, and he likes going on runs or even just early-morning walks when the weather is nice. He will wake you up occasionally to join him—and if you’re a homebody, you will be joining him. He won’t be responsible for watching you decompose on the couch.

Very picky about his pizza. It’s not a calorie or grease or health thing—he just really fucking likes pizza, and he won’t excuse a bad slice.

Always pulls you closer to him in a crowd or when a group of people are walking by. He doesn’t have to, but he likes to. Tease him about it and he’ll push you right back tho, probably into a shrub if there’s one near by.

nsfw

He’s such a “No, no—answer the call” kind of mf; a sadist, if you will. He lives for torturing and embarrassing you, and that applies to sex, too.

Loves the way his hands look on you, particularly splaying his hand over your stomach when he’s fucking you. Likes the heat of your body against his, when he positions himself just right to feel the outline of his dick against you, and squeezing the sides of your tummy when he gets lost in it.

Loves blowjobs, and loves to cum on you or over your face. His favorite thing tho is pulling away just before he’s about to orgasm, and jacking himself off with your tongue sticking out, ready to swallow.

Okay with threesomes, too; but he wouldn’t like to do much to or with the third person. It’s okay if they touch you—maybe even fuck you, depending on who it is—but he’s not there to get them off.

LEVI

sfw

When he cooks dinner, he always makes sure to make enough for you to have leftovers to take with you for lunch the following day. Especially if it’s a dish you’ve been wanting or try, or specifically asked him to cook.

He’s got a specific tote bag he brings with him to the grocery store/farmer’s market, and separate one for when he’s running other light errands.

He hates soda, not even just because it’s not the healthiest thing to drink—he just doesn’t like the feel of carbonated drinks; the only exception being when they’re mixed with liquor, but even then, it’s not his preference.

After a while, he just starts lying and says you’re married at places where it benefits you both, or to curb a longer conversation about the status of your relationship to people who are inquiring. He thinks it’s fucking weird that marriage is what shuts people up, but if it works, it works; less people prying in your guys’ business.

He likes giving you forehead kisses, and if you do it back, he’ll learn that he doesn’t mind receiving them either.

He’s such a sucker for you rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand when you guys hold hands. He might not act like he notices, but he always does; and somewhat craves little touches like that the longer you guys are together.

nsfw

He would never admit it to anyone, but birthday sex is up there for his favorite kind of sex. He never cared much about his birthday… until he realized he could get that as a gift. He knows it’s not different, but he likes it, nonetheless; one the few times he doesn’t mind having all the attention on him.

King of aftercare, though some of his methods usually lead to another round—in which he teases you for cancelling out his work, when you know he was just as willing and eager.

He likes edging himself and overstimulating you; and with his self-control, that makes for a pretty dangerous combination.

He’s strong and he knows how to use it to his advantage: maneuvering you with a single arm, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand, pushing your head down into the sheets when he’s fucking you from behind.

Sex is one of the few times Levi doesn’t mind making a mess—and in fact, he likes it messy; watching you drip onto the sheets, making you spit on his dick and fucking your face until you drool. He always goes on about how sloppy you are, how you can’t keep anything clean, but he fucking loves it.

#anonymous #i love writing but i hate tagging things here we go #eren x reader #aot x reader #levi x reader #armin x reader #porco galliard x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #connie springer x reader #eren smut #levi smut #eren yeager x reader #alright that's enough

2K notes · View notes

itstimetotheorize · 3 years

Text

Shadowmoths victory, Marinette and Adriens breaking point, the miraculous teams desperate efforts (warning, spoilers for season 4 finale)

Ever since the series began, Marinette had always been considered to be one person who would be the most difficult for hawkmoth to manipulate. And while Marinette has had some close calls such as in “Zombizou”, “Chameleon” and “Ladybug”, Marinette had always succeeded in avoiding being akumatized, be it through sheer will power alone or just plain luck such as when Nathalie lost her grip on all the akumatized civilians, including Marinette!.

However, ever since the episode “chat blanc” had revealed to us just what it would take to akumatize chat noir , many of us had since begun to wonder what it would take to finally akumatize Marinette?

Marinettes akumatization had always been foreshadowed in previous seasons, especially season 3. Out of all the foreshadowing the show could have ever provided for a number of things, it was almost as if the show was always hinting towards some extreme event should Marinette ever fall prey to hawkmoths manipulation. An event so shocking it would even rival the time chat blanc had destroyed all of Paris. As to what this event would be and how it would come to fruition, well…that all depended on what would happen to hawkmoth and ladybug.

In terms of hawkmoth, well, hawkmoth had always stated how despite his ongoing defeat, he knew ladybugs winning streak could not last forever, sooner or later her luck would run out and when it did, she would make a mistake that would finally guaranty his victory. The only question was...how exactly was ladybug(aka Marinette) going to screw up? what would have happened to her that would cause her to lose the cautiousness which has helped her overcome every obstacle thrown her way?. When it comes to Marinette and her battles against hawkmoth, Marinette had always thought things through, she had always remained cautious, calm, collected and above all...she learned not to let her emotions get the better of her so long as hawkmoth was watching and waiting....then again... If Marinette were truly ever to be akumatized, something needed to happen within the show which would lead her to throw all logic she had out the window....but what?...perhaps Zag studios had already provided us with an answer.

Early in July 2021, Zag studios had revealed something NO ONE believed they would have ever considered making public at such an early stage within the release of season 4, what was it exactly? well....it was the title and synopsis for the season 4 finale!

According to this news, the season 4 finale had been revealed to be titled, “Shadow moths last attack”!....this... was a big deal! because ever since “Timetagger” revealed to us that Gabriel Agreste would Not be the hawk moth of the future, many wondered when exactly Gabriels time as the villain of the series would come to an end. Well, after years of waiting, it would appear as though shadow moths time WILL come to an end... in season 4!.

But aside from revealing shadowmoths possible last season, Zag had also coincidentally revealed in an interview one very important, but not all to surprising plot point of the series. Before his inevitable demise... shadowmoth will first obtain what he had worked so hard to take...ladybug and chat noirs miraculous!

However, despite hawkmoths inevitable victory before his final defeat, its clear something of great importance needed to happen to Marinette in order to guarantee hawkmoth obtaining the miraculous of creation….but what? What needed to happen?

Looking back at all the times shadowmoth had attempted to steal ladybug and chat noirs miraculous, shadow moth had only ever akumatized every person he could get his hands on in order to obtain the help he needed to accomplish his goal.... and yet time and time again, every person he had come across would fail him, but why?...well, maybe it was always because they were never the right person for the job... maybe what hawkmoth always needed was someone who would be considered his greatest “masterpiece”...and as we have seen throughout the series, that someone...was always Marinette!

but even if hawkmoth realizes he must obtain someone like Marinette in order to accomplish his goal, how would he even go about finally akumatizing her?... well...isn't it obvious...shadowmoth never needed to wait for her to fall into emotional destress, because all he needed to do was use the one person who he knew could push anyone to far... or quite simply, cause a situation which would purposely force large groups of people to be akumatized at the same time. Who is this person exactly? well... we all know the answer to that....its Lila Ross of course!!

Despite Lilas lack of participation within season 4, many understood she couldn't stay quiet forever, after all, Lila had always been presented as someone who was more than willing to take part in some sort of major evil event within the series, such as the season 1 finale, the season 2 finale and even the season 3 finale!!. And based on zag studios reveal of the season 4 finale description, it would appear as though Lila will once again have her part to play. Looking at the season 4 synopsis, its said:

“Having understood that her cautiousness is the reason why Ladybug is always triumphing, Shadow Moth prepares a diabolic plan which consists of creating a supervillain able to make his victims take all sorts of risks. When Marinette finds out that Adrien is leaving Paris for a few weeks with Lila, the new figure of the Agreste brand, she’s ready to do anything to prevent him from doing so; but to what point? Would she reveal her secret identity for the sake of love? And would Adrien take the risk of finally confronting his father?”

Now, despite Marinette having been displayed as someone who was willing to take risks for the wrong reasons in the past, Marinette has also been shown to improve in taking risks for the right reasons over the span of the series (such as entrusting Alya with her secret identity). However!...keep in mind we don't yet know for sure if Marinette will be the one akumatized within the season 4 finale until the studio reveals the official season 4 finale trailer. But if Marinette is truly planned to be akumatized, then its possible the studio may have already revealed to us what we had suspected all along. Just as in “ladybug”, Lila will once again be used by hawkmoth in order to attempt to akumatize the “bad influence” she claims to be following Adrien, the bad influence being of course, Marinette herself! However, considering Lilas agreement with Adrien to not hurt the people he cares about (after pulling a stunt on Marinette which caused her to get expelled) its clear Gabriel will have to devise a scheme which will place Lila in a situation where she will finally force Marinette to reach her breaking point and make her take every risk she can as she watches Lila being given the chance to leave on a trip with Adrien!

And considering the great lengths Marinette went through just to warn Adrien of Lila back in “Oni- chan”, who knows what kind of lengths Marinette will go through to stop Lila and Adrien from leaving together. Should this occur, its possible Marinette will begin to lose her sense of self and toss all logic she has out the window as she uses everything and I mean EVERYTHING she has at her disposal to accomplish her goal...this includes her powers as ladybug!

It wouldn't be the first time Marinette had used her powers for selfish reasons. After all, the only reason the events of “chat blanc” occurred in the first place, was because Marinette decided to use her powers to enter Adriens room in order to leave her signed gift. This single act alone was what ultimately lead Adrien to discover that ladybug is Marinette. So then... if Marinette were to once again use her powers for the sake of love, would her actions once again result in the one mistake she always knew would lead to disaster? would her misguided attempts.... reveal her identity to shadowmoth himself?!...maybe

If Marinettes desperate attempts really result in her identity being revealed to shadowmoth then would her frustration over Lila, piled on top of everything else she is dealing with as ladybug and guardian, finally seal her fate of being akumatized?!...perhaps....but even if Marinette were to finally be akumatized and even if hawkmoth were to finally obtain his chance to take the miraculous of creation, how would he then obtain the miraculous of destruction from Adrien?...well...lets just say Gabriel might have already had his suspicions from the very beginning, after all, aside from Marinettes akumatization being for shadowed within every season thus far, the only other major for shadowing which followed parallel to Marinette was Gabriels growing suspicion towards Adrien and the ring he had on his finger! However, even if Gabriel continues to grow suspicious towards Adrien, what could possibly happen between the two off them that will finally reveal to Gabriel his sons secrets?...unless...what if Gabriel reveals his secrets to Adrien first?...

Gabriel had always stated how much he wished he could have told Adrien about his mothers true condition and whereabouts. That despite all the cruel things he had done up to now, it was all for the sake of bringing his mother back. When Adrien had discovered hawkmoths identity and the true reason behind his actions back in “chat blanc”, we see how despite chat noirs loyalty to ladybug and despite him wanting to carry out his responsibility as a hero by stopping hawkmoth, Adrien still struggled with the thought of being given the chance to be reunited with his own mother, even at the cost of ladybug and his miraculous!

The frustration of his fathers true identity, the realization about his mother having never disappeared and hawkmoths words swaying him with the idea that he could have his mom back was what gave shadowmoth the chance he needed to finally take chat noirs mind and force him to be akumatized! However, keep in mind, all these events happened in a separate timeline which was later fixed through Bunnyx powers and ladybugs quick thinking to erase her name on her signed gift to Adrien. The events of “chat blanc” were sealed to never happen again so hawkmoth would never find out Adriens true identity as chat noir...but if hawkmoth were to truly obtain the miraculous of destruction then... wouldn't Adrien first give him the chance to take it all over again!?

Fans had always feared the return of chat blanc within the series, especially after seeing chat noirs growing frustration over ladybug throughout the span of season 4.

If Adrien were to discover all over again hawkmoths identity and his mother whereabouts near the end of season 4, would Adrien once again give shadowmoth the chance he needs to once again akumatize him?!...along with Marinette?! or would Adriens confusion and distress lead him to once again become vulnerable enough to make a mistake which would reveal to Gabriel what he had suspected all along... his own son.... has a miraculous! but not just any miraculous, the miraculous of destruction he’s been fighting for!

However!, despite hawkmoth being fated to finally obtain both miraculous, there is still something even hawkmoth himself has yet to realize... something he never bothered to consider as he became blindsided with his thoughts of victory... his wish.... CAN be granted... but its comes with a PRICE!....Its just as Master Fu said, whoever wields the ladybug and cat miraculous will be given the chance to make a wish that can alter reality itself. However!, because the universe needs to maintain a balance when a wish is made, something of equal effect must happen in return. Despite Gabriels plan to use the miraculous to fix a past mistake and finally restore his wife to her former self, Gabriel might have never realized once his wish is granted, something bad will happen in return! as to what this disastrous result would be... well, your guess is as good as mine. If hawkmoth tried to just revive his wife then perhaps someone else might be forced to take her place. But if Gabriel were to go to the extreme and actually change a past event which lead his wife to be in the state she is in now, then this alone could prove to have major consequences. Its just as Bunnyx said, messing with time is dangerous, and if your not careful it could have dire consequences in the future.

But regardless of what will happen, one thing is for certain, the end result of Gabriels wish.... will be catastrophic! and may quite possibly be to much for ladybug and chat noir to solve even if they do manage to get their miraculous back!

so, this does beg the question, should hawkmoth obtain the miraculous of destruction and creation after akumatizing Marinette and quite possibly even Adrien then later cause a catastrophic event upon seeing his wish be granted...what could possibly happen within the series to solve this mess?!... well, keep in mind, ladybug already planned ahead, after all, she and chat noir are no longer the only superheroes in Paris. Even if she and chat noir were to be defeated by hawkmoth, there is still one person hiding in the shadows, ready to take action and ready to gather all the heroes of the miraculous team in order to face this challenge. Who is this miraculous person waiting to take action should the day arrive? why...its Alya of course!

Ever since Alya had been entrusted by Marinette to act as a temporary replacement to ladybug( should anything ever happen to her) many understood it would only be a matter of time before Alya had to take charge and gather the rest of the miraculous team in order to fight the two people anyone would dread facing in battle, ladybug and chat noir!. But how would Alya even begin to figure out the proper way to handle this kind of situation even with the aid of the other miraculous heroes?, Alya only ever understood ladybugs side of things now that she knew her secret identity, but how could she possibly help chat noir when she doesn't even know who he is!....then again....she doesn't have to struggle with figuring out who chat noir is...because Luka already knows both ladybug and chat noirs identities!

We always theorized ladybug and chat noirs identities would one day be revealed to someone close to them, granted, since season 4 is still ongoing we don't yet know if Adrien will bring himself to reveal his own identity to Nino just as Marinette revealed her identity to Alya at the start of the season. But, ever since the events of “Wishmaker” revealed to Luka the identities of ladybug and chat noir, fans had wondered why Luka of all people would be set up to discover both of their identities without either of their consent?, well, after much debate, the answer may have been obvious all along... unlike the other miraculous heroes, he and one other miraculous holder carry with them a power which will serve of great importance should Alya and the others be forced to face ladybug, chat noir and hawkmoth all at the same time. Considering the unimaginable challenge which is to be faced near the end of season 4, then its possible Luka was always one person who needed to know ladybug and chat noirs identities should he ever give the team a winning chance!

If what we suspect is true and if Alya and the others are meant to face their leaders in a fight, its obvious this fight alone... will be doomed to be plagued with errors and failures!, after all, this is ladybug and chat noir we are talking about, the miraculous team doesn't stand a chance against this dynamic duo to begin with, but if Alya and the other heroes ever plan to succeed then they must have someone who will proved them with a “second chance”, no matter how many things go wrong! Lukas power alone can provide the team with as many chances needed in order to change everything which could result in failure! and with luka having already known ladybug and chat noirs identities, he will waste no time in finding a way to save their friends rather than remain in shock and confusion over the outcome which will occur in the finale. But if this were to be the teams solution in saving ladybug and chat noir, then what will they then do about the mess hawkmoth leaves once his wish is granted?

If his wish were to truly cause a catastrophic event, would Marinettes miraculous ladybug be able to fix it even if they managed to defeat shadowmoth? we’ve seen ladybugs power repair some extraordinary things, but could it repair the effects of the two most powerful miraculous being used together? Should ladybug try to repair this incredible damage and fail, then what would she and the others do next once they’ve all failed?....unless....what if this was never their mess to help fix, because if everyone fails, then maybe it will soon be time for ladybug to call upon the one miraculous holder who had been labeled as “the miraculous of last chance”....what is this miraculous?...why...the rabbit miraculous of course!

Fans had always been anticipating the return of Bunnyx, or rather, they have always been waiting to see when young Alix would finally have her chance to use the rabbit miraculous. But considering the dangers of the rabbit miraculous, many knew it would not be used until the day it was absolutely necessary... well... if the team were to continue struggling in saving ladybug and chat noir, then perhaps Alix will soon rise up to help figure out a way to not only save ladybug and chat noir, but also help find a way to repair the incredible damage which will be caused by hawkmoths wish...but what will she do?... will she travel to the past to alter something which will fix the present?... if so, what would she even change without causing another catastrophe?... or will she travel to the future and seek the aid of someone who she knows could help her and the team solve this terrifying crises?...but even if she did, who could she possibly bring back to the present?...would it be someone she already knew and trusted just as much as her future self talked about trusting herself?....someone like...the ladybug and chat noir of the future!?...maybe...but I guess we will just have to wait and see, for now thats just a theory... a miraculous ladybug theory!

98 notes · View notes

innuendostudios · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on: Criterion's Neo-Noir Collection

I have written up all 26 films* in the Criterion Channel's Neo-Noir Collection.

Legend: rw - rewatch; a movie I had seen before going through the collection dnrw - did not rewatch; if a movie met two criteria (a. I had seen it within the last 18 months, b. I actively dislike it) I wrote it up from memory.

* in September, Brick leaves the Criterion Channel and is replaced in the collection with Michael Mann's Thief. May add it to the list when that happens.

Note: These are very "what was on my mind after watching." No effort has been made to avoid spoilers, nor to make the plot clear for anyone who hasn't seen the movies in question. Decide for yourself if that's interesting to you.

Cotton Comes to Harlem I feel utterly unequipped to asses this movie. This and Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song the following year are regularly cited as the progenitors of the blaxploitation genre. (This is arguably unfair, since both were made by Black men and dealt much more substantively with race than the white-directed films that followed them.) Its heroes are a couple of Black cops who are treated with suspicion both by their white colleagues and by the Black community they're meant to police. I'm not 100% clear on whether they're the good guys? I mean, I think they are. But the community's suspicion of them seems, I dunno... well-founded? They are working for The Man. And there's interesting discussion to the had there - is the the problem that the law is carried out by racists, or is the law itself racist? Can Black cops make anything better? But it feels like the film stacks the deck in Gravedigger and Coffin Ed's favor; the local Black church is run by a conman, the Back-to-Africa movement is, itself, a con, and the local Black Power movement is treated as an obstacle. Black cops really are the only force for justice here. Movie portrays Harlem itself as a warm, thriving, cultured community, but the people that make up that community are disloyal and easily fooled. Felt, to me, like the message was "just because they're cops doesn't mean they don't have Black soul," which, nowadays, we would call copaganda. But, then, do I know what I'm talking about? Do I know how much this played into or off of or against stereotypes from 1970? Was this a radical departure I don't have the context to appreciate? Is there substance I'm too white and too many decades removed to pick up on? Am I wildly overthinking this? I dunno. Seems like everyone involved was having a lot of fun, at least. That bit is contagious.

Across 110th Street And here's the other side of the "race film" equation. Another movie set in Harlem with a Black cop pulled between the police, the criminals, and the public, but this time the film is made by white people. I like it both more and less. Pro: this time the difficult position of Black cop who's treated with suspicion by both white cops and Black Harlemites is interrogated. Con: the Black cop has basically no personality other than "honest cop." Pro: the racism of the police force is explicit and systemic, as opposed to comically ineffectual. Con: the movie is shaped around a racist white cop who beats the shit out of Black people but slowly forms a bond with his Black partner. Pro: the Black criminal at the heart of the movie talks openly about how the white world has stacked the deck against him, and he's soulful and relateable. Con: so of course he dies in the end, because the only way privileged people know to sympathetize with minorities is to make them tragic (see also: The Boys in the Band, Philadelphia, and Brokeback Mountain for gay men). Additional con: this time Harlem is portrayed as a hellhole. Barely any of the community is even seen. At least the shot at the end, where the criminal realizes he's going to die and throws the bag of money off a roof and into a playground so the Black kids can pick it up before the cops reclaim it was powerful. But overall... yech. Cotton Comes to Harlem felt like it wasn't for me; this feels like it was 100% for me and I respect it less for that.

The Long Goodbye (rw) The shaggiest dog. Like much Altman, more compelling than good, but very compelling. Raymond Chandler's story is now set in the 1970's, but Philip Marlowe is the same Philip Marlowe of the 1930's. I get the sense there was always something inherently sad about Marlowe. Classic noir always portrayed its detectives as strong-willed men living on the border between the straightlaced world and its seedy underbelly, crossing back and forth freely but belonging to neither. But Chandler stresses the loneliness of it - or, at least, the people who've adapted Chandler do. Marlowe is a decent man in an indecent world, sorting things out, refusing to profit from misery, but unable to set anything truly right. Being a man out of step is here literalized by putting him forty years from the era where he belongs. His hardboiled internal monologue is now the incessant mutterings of the weird guy across the street who never stops smoking. Like I said: compelling! Kael's observation was spot on: everyone in the movie knows more about the mystery than he does, but he's the only one who cares. The mystery is pretty threadbare - Marlowe doesn't detect so much as end up in places and have people explain things to him. But I've seen it two or three times now, and it does linger.

Chinatown (rw) I confess I've always been impressed by Chinatown more than I've liked it. Its story structure is impeccable, its atmosphere is gorgeous, its noirish fatalism is raw and real, its deconstruction of the noir hero is well-observed, and it's full of clever detective tricks (the pocket watches, the tail light, the ruler). I've just never connected with it. Maybe it's a little too perfectly crafted. (I feel similar about Miller's Crossing.) And I've always been ambivalent about the ending. In Towne's original ending, Evelyn shoots Noah Cross dead and get arrested, and neither she nor Jake can tell the truth of why she did it, so she goes to jail for murder and her daughter is in the wind. Polansky proposed the ending that exists now, where Evelyn just dies, Cross wins, and Jake walks away devastated. It communicates the same thing: Jake's attempt to get smart and play all the sides off each other instead of just helping Evelyn escape blows up in his face at the expense of the woman he cares about and any sense of real justice. And it does this more dramatically and efficiently than Towne's original ending. But it also treats Evelyn as narratively disposable, and hands the daughter over to the man who raped Evelyn and murdered her husband. It makes the women suffer more to punch up the ending. But can I honestly say that Towne's ending is the better one? It is thematically equal, dramatically inferior, but would distract me less. Not sure what the calculus comes out to there. Maybe there should be a third option. Anyway! A perfect little contraption. Belongs under a glass dome.

Night Moves (rw) Ah yeah, the good shit. This is my quintessential 70's noir. This is three movies in a row about detectives. Thing is, the classic era wasn't as chockablock with hardboiled detectives as we think; most of those movies starred criminals, cops, and boring dudes seduced to the darkness by a pair of legs. Gumshoes just left the strongest impressions. (The genre is said to begin with Maltese Falcon and end with Touch of Evil, after all.) So when the post-Code 70's decided to pick the genre back up while picking it apart, it makes sense that they went for the 'tecs first. The Long Goodbye dragged the 30's detective into the 70's, and Chinatown went back to the 30's with a 70's sensibility. But Night Moves was about detecting in the Watergate era, and how that changed the archetype. Harry Moseby is the detective so obsessed with finding the truth that he might just ruin his life looking for it, like the straight story will somehow fix everything that's broken, like it'll bring back a murdered teenager and repair his marriage and give him a reason to forgive the woman who fucked him just to distract him from some smuggling. When he's got time to kill, he takes out a little, magnetic chess set and recreates a famous old game, where three knight moves (get it?) would have led to a beautiful checkmate had the player just seen it. He keeps going, self-destructing, because he can't stand the idea that the perfect move is there if he can just find it. And, no matter how much we see it destroy him, we, the audience, want him to keep going; we expect a satisfying resolution to the mystery. That's what we need from a detective picture; one character flat-out compares Harry to Sam Spade. But what if the truth is just... Watergate? Just some prick ruining things for selfish reasons? Nothing grand, nothing satisfying. Nothing could be more noir, or more neo-, than that.

Farewell, My Lovely Sometimes the only thing that makes a noir neo- is that it's in color and all the blood, tits, and racism from the books they're based on get put back in. This second stab at Chandler is competant but not much more than that. Mitchum works as Philip Marlowe, but Chandler's dialogue feels off here, like lines that worked on the page don't work aloud, even though they did when Bogie said them. I'll chalk it up to workmanlike but uninspired direction. (Dang this looks bland so soon after Chinatown.) Moose Malloy is a great character, and perfectly cast. (Wasn't sure at first, but it's true.) Some other interesting cats show up and vanish - the tough brothel madam based on Brenda Allen comes to mind, though she's treated with oddly more disdain than most of the other hoods and is dispatched quicker. In general, the more overt racism and misogyny doesn't seem to do anything except make the movie "edgier" than earlier attempts at the same material, and it reads kinda try-hard. But it mostly holds together. *shrug*

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (dnrw) Didn't care for this at all. Can't tell if the script was treated as a jumping-off point or if the dialogue is 100% improvised, but it just drags on forever and is never that interesting. Keeps treating us to scenes from the strip club like they're the opera scenes in Amadeus, and, whatever, I don't expect burlesque to be Mozart, but Cosmo keeps saying they're an artful, classy joint, and I keep waiting for the show to be more than cheap, lazy camp. How do you make gratuitious nudity boring? Mind you, none of this is bad as a rule - I love digressions and can enjoy good sleaze, and it's clear the filmmakers care about what they're making. They just did not sell it in a way I wanted to buy. Can't remember what edit I watched; I hope it was the 135 minute one, because I cannot imagine there being a longer edit out there.

The American Friend (dnrw) It's weird that this is Patricia Highsmith, right? That Dennis Hopper is playing Tom Ripley? In a cowboy hat? I gather that Minghella's version wasn't true to the source, but I do love that movie, and this is a long, long way from that. This Mr. Ripley isn't even particularly talented! Anyway, this has one really great sequence, where a regular guy has been coerced by crooks into murdering someone on a train platform, and, when the moment comes to shoot, he doesn't. And what follows is a prolonged sequence of an amateur trying to surreptitiously tail a guy across a train station and onto another train, and all the while you're not sure... is he going to do it? is he going to chicken out? is he going to do it so badly he gets caught? It's hard not to put yourself in the protagonist's shoes, wondering how you would handle the situation, whether you could do it, whether you could act on impulse before your conscience could catch up with you. It drags on a long while and this time it's a good thing. Didn't much like the rest of the movie, it's shapeless and often kind of corny, and the central plot hook is contrived. (It's also very weird that this is the only Wim Wenders I've seen.) But, hey, I got one excellent sequence, not gonna complain.

The Big Sleep Unlike the 1946 film, I can follow the plot of this Big Sleep. But, also unlike the 1946 version, this one isn't any damn fun. Mitchum is back as Marlowe (this is three Marlowes in five years, btw), and this time it's set in the 70's and in England, for some reason. I don't find this offensive, but neither do I see what it accomplishes? Most of the cast is still American. (Hi Jimmy!) Still holds together, but even less well than Farewell, My Lovely. But I do find it interesting that the neo-noir era keeps returning to Chandler while it's pretty much left Hammet behind (inasmuch as someone whose genes are spread wide through the whole genre can be left behind). Spade and the Continental Op, straightshooting tough guys who come out on top in the end, seem antiquated in the (post-)modern era. But Marlowe's goodness being out of sync with the world around him only seems more poignant the further you take him from his own time. Nowadays you can really only do Hammett as pastiche, but I sense that you could still play Chandler straight.

Eyes of Laura Mars The most De Palma movie I've seen not made by De Palma, complete with POV shots, paranormal hoodoo, and fixation with sex, death, and whether images of such are art or exploitation (or both). Laura Mars takes photographs of naked women in violent tableux, and has gotten quite famous doing so, but is it damaging to women? The movie has more than a superficial engagement with this topic, but only slightly more than superficial. Kept imagining a movie that is about 30% less serial killer story and 30% more art conversations. (But, then, I have an art degree and have never murdered anyone, so.) Like, museums are full of Biblical paintings full of nude women and slaughter, sometimes both at once, and they're called masterpieces. Most all of them were painted by men on commission from other men. Now Laura Mars makes similar images in modern trappings, and has models made of flesh and blood rather than paint, and it's scandalous? Why is it only controversial once women are getting paid for it? On the other hand, is this just the master's tools? Is she subverting or challenging the male gaze, or just profiting off of it? Or is a woman profiting off of it, itself, a subversion? Is it subversive enough to account for how it commodifies female bodies? These questions are pretty clearly relevant to the movie itself, and the movies in general, especially after the fall of the Hays Code when people were really unrestrained with the blood and boobies. And, heck, the lead is played by the star of Bonnie and Clyde! All this is to say: I wish the movie were as interested in these questions as I am. What's there is a mildly diverting B-picture. There's one great bit where Laura's seeing through the killer's eyes (that's the hook, she gets visions from the murderer's POV; no, this is never explained) and he's RIGHT BEHIND HER, so there's a chase where she charges across an empty room only able to see her own fleeing self from ten feet behind. That was pretty great! And her first kiss with the detective (because you could see a mile away that the detective and the woman he's supposed to protect are gonna fall in love) is immediately followed by the two freaking out about how nonsensical it is for them to fall in love with each other, because she's literally mourning multiple deaths and he's being wildly unprofessional, and then they go back to making out. That bit was great, too. The rest... enh.

The Onion Field What starts off as a seemingly not-that-noirish cops-vs-crooks procedural turns into an agonizingly protracted look at the legal system, with the ultimate argument that the very idea of the law ever resulting in justice is a lie. Hoo! I have to say, I'm impressed. There's a scene where a lawyer - whom I'm not sure is even named, he's like the seventh of thirteen we've met - literally quits the law over how long this court case about two guys shooting a cop has taken. He says the cop who was murdered has been forgotten, his partner has never gotten to move on because the case has lasted eight years, nothing has been accomplished, and they should let the two criminals walk and jail all the judges and lawyers instead. It's awesome! The script is loaded with digressions and unnecessary details, just the way I like it. Can't say I'm impressed with the execution. Nothing is wrong, exactly, but the performances all seem a tad melodramatic or a tad uninspired. Camerawork is, again, purely functional. It's no masterpiece. But that second half worked for me. (And it's Ted Danson's first movie! He did great.)

Body Heat (rw) Let's say up front that this is a handsomely-made movie. Probably the best looking thing on the list since Night Moves. Nothing I've seen better captures the swelter of an East Coast heatwave, or the lusty feeling of being too hot to bang and going at it regardless. Kathleen Turner sells the hell out of a femme fatale. There are a lot of good lines and good performances (Ted Danson is back and having the time of his life). I want to get all that out of the way, because this is a movie heavily modeled after Double Indemnity, and I wanted to discuss its merits before I get into why inviting that comparison doesn't help the movie out. In a lot of ways, it's the same rules as the Robert Mitchum Marlowe movies - do Double Indemnity but amp up the sex and violence. And, to a degree it works. (At least, the sex does, dunno that Double Indemnity was crying out for explosions.) But the plot is amped as well, and gets downright silly. Yeah, Mrs. Dietrichson seduces Walter Neff so he'll off her husband, but Neff clocks that pretty early and goes along with it anyway. Everything beyond that is two people keeping too big a secret and slowly turning on each other. But here? For the twists to work Matty has to be, from frame one, playing four-dimensional chess on the order of Senator Palpatine, and its about as plausible. (Exactly how did she know, after she rebuffed Ned, he would figure out her local bar and go looking for her at the exact hour she was there?) It's already kind of weird to be using the spider woman trope in 1981, but to make her MORE sexually conniving and mercenary than she was in the 40's is... not great. As lurid trash, it's pretty fun for a while, but some noir stuff can't just be updated, it needs to be subverted or it doesn't justify its existence.

Blow Out Brian De Palma has two categories of movie: he's got his mainstream, director-for-hire fare, where his voice is either reigned in or indulged in isolated sequences that don't always jive with the rest fo the film, and then there's his Brian De Palma movies. My mistake, it seems, is having seen several for-hires from throughout his career - The Untouchables (fine enough), Carlito's Way (ditto, but less), Mission: Impossible (enh) - but had only seen De Palma-ass movies from his late period (Femme Fatale and The Black Dahlia, both of which I think are garbage). All this to say: Blow Out was my first classic-era De Palma, and holy fucking shit dudes. This was (with caveats) my absolute and entire jam. I said I could enjoy good sleaze, and this is good friggin' sleaze. (Though far short of De Palma at his sleaziest, mercifully.) The splitscreens, the diopter shots, the canted angles, how does he make so many shlocky things work?! John Travolta's sound tech goes out to get fresh wind fx for the movie he's working on, and we get this wonderful sequence of visuals following sounds as he turns his attention and his microphone to various noises - a couple on a walk, a frog, an owl, a buzzing street lamp. Later, as he listens back to the footage, the same sequence plays again, but this time from his POV; we're seeing his memory as guided by the same sequence of sounds, now recreated with different shots, as he moves his pencil in the air mimicking the microphone. When he mixes and edits sounds, we hear the literal soundtrack of the movie we are watching get mixed and edited by the person on screen. And as he tries to unravel a murder mystery, he uses what's at hand: magnetic tape, flatbed editors, an animation camera to turn still photos from the crime scene into a film and sync it with the audio he recorded; it's forensics using only the tools of the editing room. As someone who's spent some time in college editing rooms, this is a hoot and a half. Loses a bit of steam as it goes on and the film nerd stuff gives way to a more traditional thriller, but rallies for a sound-tech-centered final setpiece, which steadily builds to such madcap heights you can feel the air thinning, before oddly cutting its own tension and then trying to build it back up again. It doesn't work as well the second time. But then, that shot right after the climax? Damn. Conflicted on how the movie treats the female lead. I get why feminist film theorists are so divided on De Palma. His stuff is full of things feminists (rightly) criticize, full of women getting naked when they're not getting stabbed, but he also clearly finds women fascinating and has them do empowered and unexpected things, and there are many feminist reads of his movies. Call it a mixed bag. But even when he's doing tropey shit, he explores the tropes in unexpected ways. Definitely the best movie so far that I hadn't already seen.

Cutter's Way (rw) Alex Cutter is pitched to us as an obnoxious-but-sympathetic son of a bitch, and, you know, two out of three ain't bad. Watched this during my 2020 neo-noir kick and considered skipping it this time because I really didn't enjoy it. Found it a little more compelling this go around, while being reminded of why my feelings were room temp before. Thematically, I'm onboard: it's about a guy, Cutter, getting it in his head that he's found a murderer and needs to bring him to justice, and his friend, Bone, who intermittently helps him because he feels bad that Cutter lost his arm, leg, and eye in Nam and he also feels guilty for being in love with Cutter's wife. The question of whether the guy they're trying to bring down actually did it is intentionally undefined, and arguably unimportant; they've got personal reasons to see this through. Postmodern and noirish, fixated with the inability to ever fully know the truth of anything, but starring people so broken by society that they're desperate for certainty. (Pretty obvious parallels to Vietnam.) Cutter's a drunk and kind of an asshole, but understandably so. Bone's shiftlessness is the other response to a lack of meaning in the world, to the point where making a decision, any decision, feels like character growth, even if it's maybe killing a guy whose guilt is entirely theoretical. So, yeah, I'm down with all of this! A- in outline form. It's just that Cutter is so uninterestingly unpleasant and no one else on screen is compelling enough to make up for it. His drunken windups are tedious and his sanctimonious speeches about what the war was like are, well, true and accurate but also obviously manipulative. It's two hours with two miserable people, and I think Cutter's constant chatter is supposed to be the comic relief but it's a little too accurate to drunken rambling, which isn't funny if you're not also drunk. He's just tedious, irritating, and periodically racist. Pass.

Blood Simple (rw) I'm pretty cool on the Coens - there are things I've liked, even loved, in every Coen film I've seen, but I always come away dissatisfied. For a while, I kept going to their movies because I was sure eventually I'd love one without qualification. No Country for Old Men came close, the first two acts being master classes in sustained tension. But then the third act is all about denying closure: the protagonist is murdered offscreen, the villain's motives are never explained, and it ends with an existentialist speech about the unfathomable cruelty of the world. And it just doesn't land for me. The archness of the Coen's dialogue, the fussiness of their set design, the kinda-intimate, kinda-awkward, kinda-funny closeness of the camera's singles, it cannot sell me on a devastating meditation about meaninglessness. It's only ever sold me on the Coens' own cleverness. And that archness, that distancing, has typified every one of their movies I've come close to loving. Which is a long-ass preamble to saying, holy heck, I was not prepared for their very first movie to be the one I'd been looking for! I watched it last year and it remains true on rewatch: Blood Simple works like gangbusters. It's kind of Double Indemnity (again) but played as a comedy of errors, minus the comedy: two people romantically involved feeling their trust unravel after a murder. And I think the first thing that works for me is that utter lack of comedy. It's loaded with the Coens' trademark ironies - mostly dramatic in this case - but it's all played straight. Unlike the usual lead/femme fatale relationship, where distrust brews as the movie goes on, the audience knows the two main characters can trust each other. There are no secret duplicitous motives waiting to be revealed. The audience also know why they don't trust each other. (And it's all communicated wordlessly, btw: a character enters a scene and we know, based on the information that character has, how it looks to them and what suspicions it would arouse, even as we know the truth of it). The second thing that works is, weirdly, that the characters aren't very interesting?! Ray and Abby have almost no characterization. Outside of a general likability, they are blank slates. This is a weakness in most films, but, given the agonizingly long, wordless sequences where they dispose of bodies or hide from gunfire, you're left thinking not "what will Ray/Abby do in this scenario," because Ray and Abby are relatively elemental and undefined, but "what would I do in this scenario?" Which creates an exquisite tension but also, weirdly, creates more empathy than I feel for the Coens' usual cast of personalities. It's supposed to work the other way around! Truly enjoyable throughout but absolutely wonderful in the suspenseful-as-hell climax. Good shit right here.

Body Double The thing about erotic thrillers is everything that matters is in the name. Is it thrilling? Is it erotic? Good; all else is secondary. De Palma set out to make the most lurid, voyeuristic, horny, violent, shocking, steamy movie he could come up with, and its success was not strictly dependent on the lead's acting ability or the verisimilitude of the plot. But what are we, the modern audience, to make of it once 37 years have passed and, by today's standards, the eroticism is quite tame and the twists are no longer shocking? Then we're left with a nonsensical riff on Vertigo, a specularization of women that is very hard to justify, and lead actor made of pulped wood. De Palma's obsessions don't cohere into anything more this time; the bits stolen from Hitchcock aren't repurposed to new ends, it really is just Hitch with more tits and less brains. (I mean, I still haven't seen Vertigo, but I feel 100% confident in that statement.) The diopter shots and rear-projections this time look cheap (literally so, apparently; this had 1/3 the budget of Blow Out). There are some mildly interesting setpieces, but nothing compared to Travolta's auditory reconstructions or car chase where he tries to tail a subway train from street level even if it means driving through a frickin parade like an inverted French Connection, goddamn Blow Out was a good movie! Anyway. Melanie Griffith seems to be having fun, at least. I guess I had a little as well, but it was, at best, diverting, and a real letdown.

The Hit Surprised by how much I enjoyed this one. Terrance Stamp flips on the mob and spends ten years living a life of ease in Spain, waiting for the day they find and kill him. Movie kicks off when they do find him, and what follows is a ramshackle road movie as John Hurt and a young Tim Roth attempt to drive him to Paris so they can shoot him in front of his old boss. Stamp is magnetic. He's spent a decade reading philosophy and seems utterly prepared for death, so he spends the trip humming, philosophizing, and being friendly with his captors when he's not winding them up. It remains unclear to the end whether the discord he sews between Roth and Hurt is part of some larger plan of escape or just for shits and giggles. There's also a decent amount of plot for a movie that's not terribly plot-driven - just about every part of the kidnapping has tiny hitches the kidnappers aren't prepared for, and each has film-long repercussions, drawing the cops closer and somehow sticking Laura del Sol in their backseat. The ongoing questions are when Stamp will die, whether del Sol will die, and whether Roth will be able to pull the trigger. In the end, it's actually a meditation on ethics and mortality, but in a quiet and often funny way. It's not going to go down as one of my new favs, but it was a nice way to spend a couple hours.

Trouble in Mind (dnrw) I fucking hated this movie. It's been many months since I watched it, do I remember what I hated most? Was it the bit where a couple of country bumpkins who've come to the city walk into a diner and Mr. Bumpkin clocks that the one Black guy in the back as obviously a criminal despite never having seen him before? Was it the part where Kris Kristofferson won't stop hounding Mrs. Bumpkin no matter how many times she demands to be left alone, and it's played as romantic because obviously he knows what she needs better than she does? Or is it the part where Mr. Bumpkin reluctantly takes a job from the Obvious Criminal (who is, in fact, a criminal, and the only named Black character in the movie if I remember correctly, draw your own conclusions) and, within a week, has become a full-blown hood, which is exemplified by a lot, like, a lot of queer-coding? The answer to all three questions is yes. It's also fucking boring. Even out-of-drag Divine's performance as the villain can't save it.

Manhunter 'sfine? I've still never seen Silence of the Lambs, nor any of the Hopkins Lecter movies, nor, indeed, any full episode of the show. So the unheimlich others get seeing Brian Cox play Hannibal didn't come into play. Cox does a good job with him, but he's barely there. Shame, cuz he's the most interesting part of the movie. Honestly, there's a lot of interesting stuff that's barely there. Will Graham being a guy who gets into the heads of serial killers is explored well enough, and Mann knows how to direct a police procedural such that it's both contemplative and propulsive. But all the other themes it points at? Will's fear that he understands murderers a little too well? Hannibal trying to nudge him towards becoming one? Whatever dance Hannibal and Tooth Fairy are doing? What Tooth Fairy's deal is, anyway? (Why does he wear fake teeth and bite things? Why is he fixated on the red dragon? Does the bit where he says "Francis is gone forever" mean he has DID?) None of it goes anywhere or amounts to anything. I mean, it's certainly more interesting with this stuff than without, but it has that feel of a book that's been pared of its interesting bits to fit the runtime (or, alternately, pulp that's been sloppily elevated). I still haven't made my mind up on Mann's cold, precise camera work, but at least it gives me something to look at. It's fine! This is fine.

Mona Lisa (rw) Gave this one another shot. Bob Hoskins is wonderful as a hood out of his depth in classy places, quick to anger but just as quick to let anger go (the opening sequence where he's screaming on his ex-wife's doorstep, hurling trash cans at her house, and one minute later thrilled to see his old car, is pretty nice). And Cathy Tyson's working girl is a subtler kind of fascinating, exuding a mixture of coldness and kindness. It's just... this is ultimately a story about how heartbreaking it is when the girl you like is gay, right? It's Weezer's Pink Triangle: The Movie. It's not homophobic, exactly - Simone isn't demonized for being a lesbian - but it's still, like, "man, this straight white guy's pain is so much more interesting than the Black queer sex worker's." And when he's yelling "you woulda done it!" at the end, I can't tell if we're supposed to agree with him. Seems pretty clear that she wouldn'ta done it, at least not without there being some reveal about her character that doesn't happen, but I don't think the ending works if we don't agree with him, so... I'm like 70% sure the movie does Simone dirty there. For the first half, their growing relationship feels genuine and natural, and, honestly, the story being about a real bond that unfortunately means different things to each party could work if it didn't end with a gun and a sock in the jaw. Shape feels jagged as well; what feels like the end of the second act or so turns out to be the climax. And some of the symbolism is... well, ok, Simone gives George money to buy more appropriate clothes for hanging out in high end hotels, and he gets a tan leather jacket and a Hawaiian shirt, and their first proper bonding moment is when she takes him out for actual clothes. For the rest of the movie he is rocking double-breasted suits (not sure I agree with the striped tie, but it was the eighties, whaddya gonna do?). Then, in the second half, she sends him off looking for her old streetwalker friend, and now he looks completely out of place in the strip clubs and bordellos. So far so good. But then they have this run-in where her old pimp pulls a knife and cuts George's arm, so, with his nice shirt torn and it not safe going home (I guess?) he starts wearing the Hawaiian shirt again. So around the time he's starting to realize he doesn't really belong in Simone's world or the lowlife world he came from anymore, he's running around with the classy double-breasted suit jacket over the garish Hawaiian shirt, and, yeah, bit on the nose guys. Anyway, it has good bits, I just feel like a movie that asks me to feel for the guy punching a gay, Black woman in the face needs to work harder to earn it. Bit of wasted talent.

The Bedroom Window Starts well. Man starts an affair with his boss' wife, their first night together she witnesses an attempted murder from his window, she worries going to the police will reveal the affair to her husband, so the man reports her testimony to the cops claiming he's the one who saw it. Young Isabelle Huppert is the perfect woman for a guy to risk his career on a crush over, and Young Steve Guttenberg is the perfect balance of affability and amorality. And it flows great - picks just the right media to res. So then he's talking to the cops, telling them what she told him, and they ask questions he forgot to ask her - was the perp's jacket a blazer or a windbreaker? - and he has to guess. Then he gets called into the police lineup, and one guy matches her description really well, but is it just because he's wearing his red hair the way she described it? He can't be sure, doesn't finger any of them. He finds out the cops were pretty certain about one of the guys, so he follows the one he thinks it was around, looking for more evidence, and another girl is attacked right outside a bar he knows the redhead was at. Now he's certain! But he shows the boss' wife the guy and she's not certain, and she reminds him they don't even know if the guy he followed is the same guy the police suspected! And as he feeds more evidence to the cops, he has to lie more, because he can't exactly say he was tailing the guy around the city. So, I'm all in now. Maybe it's because I'd so recently rewatched Night Moves and Cutter's Way, but this seems like another story about uncertainty. He's really certain about the guy because it fits narratively, and we, the audience, feel the same. But he's not actually a witness, he doesn't have actual evidence, he's fitting bits and pieces together like a conspiracy theorist. He's fixating on what he wants to be true. Sign me up! But then it turns out he's 100% correct about who the killer is but his lies are found out and now the cops think he's the killer and I realize, oh, no, this movie isn't nearly as smart as I thought it was. Egg on my face! What transpires for the remaining half of the runtime is goofy as hell, and someone with shlockier sensibilities could have made a meal of it, but Hanson, despite being a Corman protege, takes this silliness seriously in the all wrong ways. Next!

Homicide (rw? I think I saw most of this on TV one time) Homicide centers around the conflicted loyalties of a Jewish cop. It opens with the Jewish cop and his white gentile partner taking over a case with a Black perp from some Black FBI agents. The media is making a big thing about the racial implications of the mostly white cops chasing down a Black man in a Black neighborhood. And inside of 15 minutes the FBI agent is calling the lead a k*ke and the gentile cop is calling the FBI agent a f****t and there's all kinds of invective for Black people. The film is announcing its intentions out the gate: this movie is about race. But the issue here is David Mamet doesn't care about race as anything other than a dramatic device. He's the Ubisoft of filmmakers, having no coherent perspective on social issues but expecting accolades for even bringing them up. Mamet is Jewish (though lead actor Joe Mantegna definitely is not) but what is his position on the Jewish diaspora? The whole deal is Mantegna gets stuck with a petty homicide case instead of the big one they just pinched from the Feds, where a Jewish candy shop owner gets shot in what looks like a stickup. Her family tries to appeal to his Jewishness to get him to take the case seriously, and, after giving them the brush-off for a long time, finally starts following through out of guilt, finding bits and pieces of what may or may not be a conspiracy, with Zionist gun runners and underground neo-Nazis. But, again: all of these are just dramatic devices. Mantegna's Jewishness (those words will never not sound ridiculous together) has always been a liability for him as a cop (we are told, not shown), and taking the case seriously is a reclamation of identity. The Jews he finds community with sold tommyguns to revolutionaries during the founding of Israel. These Jews end up blackmailing him to get a document from the evidence room. So: what is the film's position on placing stock in one's Jewish identity? What is its position on Israel? What is its opinion on Palestine? Because all three come up! And the answer is: Mamet doesn't care. You can read it a lot of different ways. Someone with more context and more patience than me could probably deduce what the de facto message is, the way Chris Franklin deduced the de facto message of Far Cry V despite the game's efforts not to have one, but I'm not going to. Mantegna's attempt to reconnect with his Jewishness gets his partner killed, gets the guy he was supposed to bring in alive shot dead, gets him possibly permanent injuries, gets him on camera blowing up a store that's a front for white nationalists, and all for nothing because the "clues" he found (pretty much exclusively by coincidence) were unconnected nothings. The problem is either his Jewishness, or his lifelong failure to connect with his Jewishness until late in life. Mamet doesn't give a shit. (Like, Mamet canonically doesn't give a shit: he is on record saying social context is meaningless, characters only exist to serve the plot, and there are no deeper meanings in fiction.) Mamet's ping-pong dialogue is fun, as always, and there are some neat ideas and characters, but it's all in service of a big nothing that needed to be a something to work.

Swoon So much I could talk about, let's keep it to the most interesting bits. Hommes Fatales: a thing about classic noir that it was fascinated by the marginal but had to keep it in the margins. Liberated women, queer-coded killers, Black jazz players, broke thieves; they were the main event, they were what audiences wanted to see, they were what made the movies fun. But the ending always had to reassert straightlaced straight, white, middle-class male society as unshakeable. White supremacist capitalist patriarchy demanded, both ideologically and via the Hays Code, that anyone outside these norms be punished, reformed, or dead by the movie's end. The only way to make them the heroes was to play their deaths for tragedy. It is unsurprising that neo-noir would take the queer-coded villains and make them the protagonists. Implicature: This is the story of Leopold and Loeb, murderers famous for being queer, and what's interesting is how the queerness in the first half exists entirely outside of language. Like, it's kind of amazing for a movie from 1992 to be this gay - we watch Nathan and Dickie kiss, undress, masturbate, fuck; hell, they wear wedding rings when they're alone together. But it's never verbalized. Sex is referred to as "your reward" or "what you wanted" or "best time." Dickie says he's going to have "the girls over," and it turns out "the girls" are a bunch of drag queens, but this is never acknowledged. Nathan at one point lists off a bunch of famous men - Oscar Wild, E.M. Forster, Frederick the Great - but, though the commonality between them is obvious (they were all gay), it's left the the audience to recognize it. When their queerness is finally verbalized in the second half, it's first in the language of pathology - a psychiatrist describing their "perversions" and "misuse" of their "organs" before the court, which has to be cleared of women because it's so inappropriate - and then with slurs from the man who murders Dickie in jail (a murder which is written off with no investigation because the victim is a gay prisoner instead of a L&L's victim, a child of a wealthy family). I don't know if I'd have noticed this if I hadn't read Chip Delany describing his experience as a gay man in the 50's existing almost entirely outside of language, the only language at the time being that of heteronormativity. Murder as Love Story: L&L exchange sex as payment for the other commiting crimes; it's foreplay. Their statements to the police where they disagree over who's to blame is a lover's quarrel. Their sentencing is a marriage. Nathan performs his own funeral rites over Dickie's body after he dies on the operating table. They are, in their way, together til death did they part. This is the relationship they can have. That it does all this without romanticizing the murder itself or valorizing L&L as humans is frankly incredible.

Suture (rw) The pitch: at the funeral for his father, wealthy Vincent Towers meets his long lost half brother Clay Arlington. It is implied Clay is a child from out of wedlock, possibly an affair; no one knows Vincent has a half-brother but him and Clay. Vincent invites Clay out to his fancy-ass home in Arizona. Thing is, Vincent is suspected (correctly) by the police of having murdered his father, and, due to a striking family resemblence, he's brought Clay to his home to fake his own death. He finagles Clay into wearing his clothes and driving his car, and then blows the car up and flees the state, leaving the cops to think him dead. Thing is, Clay survives, but with amnesia. The doctors tell him he's Vincent, and he has no reason to disagree. Any discrepancy in the way he looks is dismissed as the result of reconstructive surgery after the explosion. So Clay Arlington resumes Vincent Towers' life, without knowing Clay Arlington even exists. The twist: Clay and Vincent are both white, but Vincent is played by Michael Harris, a white actor, and Clay is played by Dennis Haysbert, a Black actor. "Ian, if there's just the two of them, how do you know it's not Harris playing a Black character?" Glad you asked! It is most explicitly obvious during a scene where Vincent/Clay's surgeon-cum-girlfriend essentially bringing up phrenology to explain how Vincent/Clay couldn't possibly have murdered his father, describing straight hair, thin lips, and a Greco-Roman nose Haysbert very clearly doesn't have. But, let's be honest: we knew well beforehand that the rich-as-fuck asshole living in a huge, modern house and living it up in Arizona high society was white. Though Clay is, canonically, white, he lives an poor and underprivileged life common to Black men in America. Though the film's title officially refers to the many stitches holding Vincent/Clay's face together after the accident, "suture" is a film theory term, referring to the way a film audience gets wrapped up - sutured - in the world of the movie, choosing to forget the outside world and pretend the story is real. The usage is ironic, because the audience cannot be sutured in; we cannot, and are not expected to, suspend our disbelief that Clay is white. We are deliberately distanced. Consequently this is a movie to be thought about, not to to be felt. It has the shape of a Hitchcockian thriller but it can't evoke the emotions of one. You can see the scaffolding - "ah, yes, this is the part of a thriller where one man hides while another stalks him with a gun, clever." I feel ill-suited to comment on what the filmmakers are saying about race. I could venture a guess about the ending, where the psychiatrist, the only one who knows the truth about Clay, says he can never truly be happy living the lie of being Vincent Towers, while we see photographs of Clay/Vincent seemingly living an extremely happy life: society says white men simply belong at the top more than Black men do, but, if the roles could be reversed, the latter would slot in seamlessly. Maybe??? Of all the movies in this collection, this is the one I'd most want to read an essay on (followed by Swoon).

The Last Seduction (dnrw) No, no, no, I am not rewataching this piece of shit movie.

Brick (rw) Here's my weird contention: Brick is in color and in widescreen, but, besides that? There's nothing neo- about this noir. There's no swearing except "hell." (I always thought Tug said "goddamn" at one point but, no, he's calling The Pin "gothed-up.") There's a lot of discussion of sex, but always through implication, and the only deleted scene is the one that removed ambiguity about what Brendan and Laura get up to after kissing. There's nothing postmodern or subversive - yes, the hook is it's set in high school, but the big twist is that it takes this very seriously. It mines it for jokes, yes, but the drama is authentic. In fact, making the gumshoe a high school student, his jadedness an obvious front, still too young to be as hard as he tries to be, just makes the drama hit harder. Sam Spade if Sam Spade were allowed to cry. I've always found it an interesting counterpoint to The Good German, a movie that fastidiously mimics the aesthetics of classic noir - down to even using period-appropriate sound recording - but is wholly neo- in construction. Brick could get approved by the Hays Code. Its vibe, its plot about a detective playing a bunch of criminals against each other, even its slang ("bulls," "yegg," "flopped") are all taken directly from Hammett. It's not even stealing from noir, it's stealing from what noir stole from! It's a perfect curtain call for the collection: the final film is both the most contemporary and the most classic. It's also - but for the strong case you could make for Night Moves - the best movie on the list. It's even more appropriate for me, personally: this was where it all started for me and noir. I saw this in theaters when it came out and loved it. It was probably my favorite movie for some time. It gave me a taste for pulpy crime movies which I only, years later, realized were neo-noir. This is why I looked into Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang and In Bruges. I've seen it more times than any film on this list, by a factor of at least 3. It's why I will always adore Rian Johnson and Joseph Gordon-Levitt. It's the best-looking half-million-dollar movie I've ever seen. (Indie filmmakers, take fucking notes.) I even did a script analysis of this, and, yes, it follows the formula, but so tightly and with so much style. Did you notice that he says several of the sequence tensions out loud? ("I just want to find her." "Show of hands.") I notice new things each time I see it - this time it was how "brushing Brendan's hair out of his face" is Em's move, making him look more like he does in the flashback, and how Laura does the same to him as she's seducing him, in the moment when he misses Em the hardest. It isn't perfect. It's recreated noir so faithfully that the Innocent Girl dies, the Femme Fatale uses intimacy as a weapon, and none of the women ever appear in a scene together. 1940's gender politics maybe don't need to be revisited. They say be critical of the media you love, and it applies here most of all: it is a real criticism of something I love immensely.

#film noir #neo-noir #criterion channel

44 notes · View notes

dreamersleeps · 3 years

Text

Red Wings of Temperance

A Possible Influence Behind the Color of Hawks’ Wings

A deck of tarot cards is made up of 78 cards, and the first twenty two are known as the Major Arcana. They were created in the 14th or 15th century but were not used for divination purposes until the 18th century. Tarot card readings are not meant to predict the future but to offer spiritual guidance.

The image above (from Oracloo) depicts the 14th Major Arcana card in the tarot deck which is known as: XIV Temperance.

Like me, I’m sure that your mind jumped to a certain pro hero as soon as you saw the figure’s red wings.

What might Temperance have to do with Hawks? Let’s first look at a couple definitions of the word first. According to Merriam-Webster:

Temperance

1. moderation in action, thought, or feeling

2. habitual moderation in the indulgence of the appetites or passions

If Temperance is drawn, it means:

Balance, patience, and moderation in life.

To think before we act. To look at both sides of an issue, to walk in another’s shoes or their path before we pass judgement. To be compassionate, considerate and fair in our dealings with others (bluestartarot).

That you have a clear, long-term vision of what you want to achieve. You are not rushing things along; instead, you are taking your time to ensuer that you do the best job you can. You know you need a moderate, guided appraoch to reach your goals (biddytarot).

Other Red-Winged Figures

Before we begin I’m going to point out that there are a couple other Red-Winged figures amongst the Major Arcana.

I’m not aware if nudity in art is allowed on Tumblr so just to be safe, I cut the bottom half of both these cards because they depict nude individuals.

The tarot card on the right is VI The Lovers and XX Judgement. Out of the two, I think you could perhaps make some connections with Judgement and Hawks but I think that Temperance works the best.

Symbols of the 14th Arcana

There are quite a few symbols on XIV Temperance, but I’m going to focus on a select few. Interpretations may differ based on the source but I tried to stick with those that were repeated throughout the different websites I read through.

The most important part of this card is the act of pouring water from one cup to another, signifying a balance of duality and a mixture of two separate objects. This is where the card gets its name, the process is called “tempering” which is a slow process to eventually find a perfect middle ground (wemystic).

Other dualities that is represented on this card can be: male/female, spiritual/physical, emotion/logic, conscious/subconscious and subconscious/superconscious (we mystic).

Temperance revolves around supreme balance. One foot is on land which represents the Earthly, material world and the other is in water, which represents the emotional, subconscious world.

The winding path leading to the mountains represents the journey through life with its twists and turns. The sun, appearing as a glowing light is a symbol of staying true to one’s life purpose and meaning (biddytarot).

Fire/Red wings: Physical passion, anger. Muscles and strength necessary to maintain composure and reach a higher being state.

Blue water: Emotions, peace, calm. Groundness and refreshment.

White gown: Pure thought.

Yellow Iris: Communication, thoughts, learning, feminine/masculine.

Temperance’s wings are either referred to as “fire wings” or “red wings.” If we want to make connections to we can argue that his Fierce Wings Quirk is the source of his physical strength, even though he displays some insecurity about his back not being “reassuring” enough for others to depend on.

Other than his red wings, I don’t think I’m confident enough to draw a clear connection between his appearance and the other prominent colors that appear on Temperance. Hawks’ visor was blue before the anime chose yellow, and he does have the yellow color palette going on.

However, the meanings of the colors do line up with Hawks’ character. He is a character who is always trying to be calm and collected no matter the situation. Hawks is a character who is constantly seeking, taking in, gathering, and analyzing information. According to the fandom website, Hawks’ surname translates as: “hawk” (taka 鷹) + “see, visible, idea” (mi 見 )

While his first name translates as: “disclose, open, say” (kei 啓) + “enlightenment, understanding” (go 悟).

Sun: Also appearing as the angel’s third eye, it represents the merging of personal aims with the universe’s plans for the individual.

So similar to many others, I like to see Endeavor as the sun to Hawks’ Icarus (side note: I also like to see Dabi as Apollo in the Icarus theme).

The bit about the eye is interesting as well: I believe that eyes play an important role in the story telling with Hawks, Endeavor and other characters. There are interesting similarities between the two characters and the Egyptian Gods Ra and Horus (@/bokunowtv also pointed out some interesting details as well).

Recently, it also seems like Hawks’ storyline will be intertwining with Endeavor’s. Hawks has expressed verbally in Chapter 299: “Starting with my origin, so to speak... Endeavor’s in trouble.” While they did team up professionally as heroes in the past, it seems that Hawks intentions this time will be personal. We have yet to see what he is planning to do and how things might pan out, however this path will probably lead him to Touya.

Triangle: Representative of the fire element and holy trinity.

Although Hawks does not wear a triangle or square on his chest like the angel, it is still interesting to note that he wears the Hero Public Safety Commission’s diamond symbol in about the same place. Again, there is the mention of fire again.

The Angel

Because Temperance has to do with balance and duality, the angel on the card is both masculine and feminine.

Whether they are just an unnamed angel or a Biblical angel depends on the source you are looking at. However when it comes to identifying them, while one states that it is the Archangel Gabriel, the sources I looked at overwhelmingly pointed towards the Archangel Michael.

This is very, very interesting considering that the Archangel Michael is the angel who is in all the paintings that people were comparing the cover of Volume 27 with, specifically the painting above: “The Fall of the Rebel Angels” by Luca Giordano.

My analysis first post on Tumblr had to do with pointing out similarities between the Archangel Michael and Hawks, and what that could mean. And my most recent post revisits the possible angel narrative which may be present in Hawks’ story, and how he is referred to as a “fallen angel.”

It’s exciting to see the Archangel Michael pop up again. Michael was also God’s angel of destruction and on XIV Temperance we see him tempering or blending his passionate anger with consicious thought to blend his fiery nature with his super-consciousness with calm (blustartarot).

Temperance Reversed

When Tarot cards are reversed, their definitions are flipped over.

When XIV Temperance meets XV The Devil we see imbalance, disharmony, indifference and lack of empathy. When we preactice excess in our lives without moderation and balance whether it be food, alcohol, drugs, and relationships, we lose ourselves in addiction and bondage (bluestartarot).

May call for a period of self-evaluation in which you can re-examine your life priorities. Self-healing: by creating more balance and moderation in your life (biddytarot).

We’ve seen Hawks indulge in something or trip up a couple of times. In Chapter 186, Hawks asks if he can have Endeavor’s leftover food and Endeavor calls him a glutton. Additionally, @/scarletrain1724 has done some analysis on how Hawks is a character who is often seen around or consuming food.

And in Chapter 265, Hawks takes Jin’s life. As Dabi states below, “sentiments” tripped him up. Hawks displays a lack of empathy here. He believes that he feels sorry for Jin and wants to help him, but Hawks is actually unable to understand him properly. I would also identify this action as one of Hawks’ narrative Icarus falls.

The Moral of Icarus’ Fall

This all ties in nicely as we see Hawks’ character following an Icarus narrative. There are a handful of “morals” that we the reader are supposed to gain from the Fall of Icarus but I’ll pull an excerpt from the part I’d like to focus on.

Before taking flight, Daedalus warned his son:

“Take care to fly halfway between the sun and the sea. If you fly too high, the sun’s heat will melt the wax that bids your wings. If you fly too low, the sea’s mist will dampen the feathers that give you life. Instead, aim for the middle course and avoid extremes.” (The Fall of Icarus - adapted from Metamorphoses by Ovid)

As we all know, Icarus does not heed his father’s warning, whether it be cause he purposely ignored him or forgot and flies up towards the sun. The sun’s heat melts the wax and loosens the feathers on his manmade wings, and he plummets in to the ocean below, drowning.

Avoid extremes, fly in the middle and seek temperance.

The card that comes before Temperance is XIII Death.

In death we go through transition, a rebirth, changes and with these we come to XIV Temperance for the need to take the time to pause and think. To integrate and blend what we have learned on our journey (bluestartarot).

So the question to ask is, has Hawks learned anything from his actions or will his story end with him drowning in the ocean?

To those who were able to make it through this post, thank you! I know that it was really long but I didn’t want to divide it into more than one part. I really appreciate your time and attention! :)

#visual #hawks #takami keigo #bnha analysis #mha analysis #mythological influences #religious influences #bnha #mha #bnha meta #mha meta #luna writes #my post

32 notes · View notes

jalaluvsu · 3 years

Text

Interference

https://beautiful-disasters-sunshine.tumblr.com/post/631749044177403904/what-if-marinette-was-tims-little-sister-who-was

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“Y’know, just ‘cause Kori’s got a baby coming doesn’t mean you can boss us around Robin,” Beastboy whined as he stepped out of the Zeta Tube.

He scoffed at the notion, “That’s literally exactly what I can and will do, you absolute buffoon.”

“Oh, shutup.”

He sighed. There isn’t ever a moment where Garfield doesn’t wish Starfire still led the Titans. The past three weeks have gone by at an agonizingly slow pace, filled with never ending fights between him and Damian. And! Before you get the wrong impression, no, he did not start these fights. In fact, he was practically the one getting attacked!

Really, what’d you expect him to do when Damian insulted tofu during dinner at the Waynes’? Smile and wave?

Laughable.

Garfield will tell you what happened after, whether he’s proud is a matter of who asks. Let’s just say Alfred’s put him on a month-long ban from the dining room at the manor; worth it, nonetheless.

“Beastboy, earth to Beastboy,” He heard Raven chant over comms. Oh, right, the mission.

“Reporting for duty!” he saluted obediently, like the responsible hero he is.

“Stop standing there and you know, actually read the coordinates I sent to your navigator,” he grinned at her snark as he pulled out his compact. A hefty amount of unchecked notifications was in its wake.

Automated message coupons from the local pizza place at Jump City (hell yeah!)

Missed calls from Terra, he faltered at the offending contact; as if he would respond. The time for that has passed, long passed.

He scrolled down the small screen as he flitted his gaze past the hundreds of junk mail. Ah, and lastly, one lengthy preview of information regarding the mission. The text listed an address along with...enrollment details? Huh.

Garfield glanced both ways before crossing the busy street; him previously being in the too-bright alleyway.

Okay, see, he knows what you’re thinking. Someone like him- or rather someone who looked like him, would stick out like a sore thumb. Especially in a place like Paris. How common were metahumans here? Probably not as high as the rate in Metropolis, that’s for sure.

There were only so many green colored people, and a good ninety-nine percent was or is associated with heroes (vigilantes, fine) or even aliens. That being said, he was keeping it on the down-low. In Paris, he wasn’t the cool, collected, and most desired by all Garfield Logan. In Paris, he was just Grant Roth. What? It’s a good cover! And he was planning on taking Raven’s surname eventually anyways. (wink wink, nudge nudge)

A few spells and enchantments via Magical Goth Gf ™ prior to his ride in the tubes later; he practically looked uncanny to his appearance before the whole ‘failed experiment injection’ thing. You know, a mop of auburn hair, pale as paper skin, and cutesy little freckles (Blue Beetle’s words, not his) (Okay, maybe it was his too..)

Garfield pulled out his pocketed compact once he safely made it across the street. Now that he gave more than a glance at the address it looked...short. In fact, it was vague, extremely vague. He discreetly looked around for any eavesdroppers and lowered his voice to a whisper as he walked down the 21st arrondissement.

“Uh, guys? Where exactly am I supposed to go?”

He hated not knowing how to do something he was expected to, incredibly so.

“I was hoping you’d dispose of your body there,” he paused, "but since you asked so nicely, we’ll tell you.” Robin chimed in matter-of-factly.

Garfield could practically feel the next set of words. He didn’t know what they were, but they were going to suck. He just knew it.

Raven took a long swig of coffee before announcing the dreaded news, “We’ve signed you up for a foreign exchange student program,”

Ah,

“You what?!” he shrieked. A couple of onlookers gave him dirty glances, he smiled sheepishly.

Blue Beetle toggled his audio, “C’mon Gar-“ Robin interrupted,

“No names on field!”

“Shutuuuuup,” he drawled out.

“Anyways, Beastboy,’’ cue pointed glare at Robin,’’ did you really think we’d let you roam around without a leash for what? Three months? In a foreign country of all places?” Garfield could practically hear the smirk in his voice, the fucker.

“I was hoping, yeah!” Damn. He thought he would get away with them actually trusting him here alone, wishful thinking on his part.

He pouted at the idea as he scouted for a place to lounge in.

Raven huffed, “You’ll be living with a host family during your stay at Paris, if it wasn’t clear enough already.”

He froze; what other surprises were up their sleeves?!

“C’mon, be real for a sec. I’m a superhero, I don’t need to go to public school, I don’t need a couple of strangers!” he stressed as he weaved between crowds of Parisians.

Ooh, a bench. He sat with the intent of winning this argument, no matter the consequence. So what if he looked crazy, supposedly talking to himself? Priorities people, priorities.

“Doom Patrol’s strict orders, you know, ‘cause they can’t homeschool you a whole continent away,” Jamie deadpanned.

Garfield dragged a hand down his face. Stupid Doom Patrol, stupid worrying for his wellbeing. “But- it’s a mission!” he gestured rapidly, in clear exasperation.

Jaime tsked, “And? Gotta keep that brain of yours in tip-top shape, amigo!”

“Whatever, man;” he got up to dust himself off, “still don’t know how that’s related to the address on the Seine but- “

“They live there, your host family,” Raven supplied.

Garfield scratched his chin in wonder. Who lives in a body of water? That’s so- Wait. His friends were totally holding out on him!

“You guys didn’t tell me I’d be staying with Aquaman! That makes this ten times better!”

What were the chances that the man himself was in Paris too? They can bond over sea creatures, and Garfield could show him his animal transformations! This mission wasn’t so bad, it wasn’t bad at all. He had an extra skip in his step as he pranced down the pavement.

“Are you entirely brain dead?” Robin audibly face palmed,

”No, you’re not- you know what? Yes, you’re going to be living with Aquaman. At a river. In France,” quiet murmurs along the lines of ‘idiot, and ‘cómo adorable,’ sounded out from his remaining teammates.

“This is gonna be so awesome!” Garfield exclaimed giddily.

He spotted a boulangerie-pâtisserie a couple blocks away. Aha! Time to get him some sweet, sweet, treats. And hopefully, some directions.

“Robin spent weeks doing full analysis on the whole family,” Jaime grinned over the comm.

Raven cut in, “Even though it was incredibly self-destructive, “

Analysis? On the King of Atlantis? Boy, no one was safe from Damian’s wrath.

“Awww. You do care, Robin!” he cooed as he entered the bakery.

Robin gasped, affronted, “Don’t flatter yourself! I needed to make sure you wouldn’t feel obligated to blabber all our secrets, obviously.”

“Better than nothing, I suppose,” Garfield shrugged to himself, but quickly zipped his lips shut once someone came into view.

“The Couffaines are...adequate at best;” he quieted, “well, at least from what I could infer before I was so viciously torn away from my research!” was sniffed hotly.

Couffaines? Was that a code name?

“If I didn’t know any better Robin,” Jaime mused, “I’d think you were taking after Tim, especially with how many late nights you’ve had...”

A beat.

Garfield ignored the squabble taking place in his left ear, opting to chat with the kind looking, lady at the register.

“Hello! What can I do for-“ she looked up from tying her apron,

“Oh! You must be new here; I don’t recognize you,”

Garfield offered his hand, “Hah, yeah! I was just walkin’ around town. I’m Grant, by the way,’’ he silently praised himself for remembering his alias.

She shook it firmly, “Sabine.”

A warm smile was sent his way before she gestured to the variety of sweets on display. His mouth watered at the sight and contemplated his choices, no matter how hard it was. ‘’What would you recommend?’’ he whispered, completely in awe.

Sabine paused to give him a once-over before lighting up. ‘’Well, you don’t strike me as a tart kind of guy so, how do you feel about chocolate?’’

‘’Love it.’’

‘’Great! My husband just put out some fresh Pain Au Chocolates before you came in!’’ Score. His luck hadn’t completely run out.

‘’That sounds fire! I’ll have that,’’ he exclaimed cheerfully.

She blinked at his wording, ‘’Pardon?’’

What? Did she not unders- Oh.‘’Sorry, American slang. It means cool!’’ he rushed out.

She mulled it over, ‘’Ah, okay. Well, coming right up!’’ Sabine opened the glass in search of the Pain Au Chocolates.

“Don’t ever compare me to that insufferable fool, -“

He snickered, “Your brother?”

Robin fumed, “-you complete and utter nincompoop!”

“Now, now, don’t use big boy words on me,” Jaime taunted.

“I’ll show you ‘big boy’ words-! “

Garfield faux scratched his ear in favor of switching off the comm as he watched Sabine bag the treats. He grinned in thanks once handed to him.

“If that’ll be all...?” She trailed off.

He wasn’t really paying any mind as he took a big whiff of the sweets. His thoughts floated over to a haven filled with a never-ending overflow of pastries. Ah, what’s stopping him from staying here forever? A pat on his shoulder, apparently.

“Hm?” Garfield found the petite baker leaning over the counter with a patient smile.

“Sorry, I totally zoned out! Did you say something?” he rubbed his neck bashfully.

She chuckled, “I asked if there’s anything else I could do for you, sweetie.”

If there anything else she could- Right! Yes, he needed to know where the hell he was staying at. Garfield fumbled for his phone, luckily for him he copied the address into his Notes app.

“Yeah actually! Well, not food wise but, I’m here in Paris for,” he blanched momentarily, “uh, an exchange program; and I have a like host family here, right?” he gestured to his voice; the American accent evident.

She nodded.

He continued, “And I don’t really uh, like, know exactly where I’m supposed to meet them. I was wondering if you by chance knew someone who lived on the Seine around here?” Garfield shoveled a croissant into his mouth.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Marinette was a lot of things.

To some she was the sweet bakers’ daughter, insanely witty and clever, granted a bit scatterbrained, but she was your trophy student by all means of the word; to others though, she was someone to be wary of. A classmate’s spew of lies crawling under their skins, itching to be taken into account. Every move watched meticulously, waiting with bated breath for a slip up, for anything to grasp on to.

In simpler terms, Marinette was over it. Over being unable to speak her truth; over being villainized, constantly put under a spotlight. There was already enough on her plate, one of its regulars accumulating to a steadily-rising designer. One of her biggest flexes, if she was being honest; because really, what fourteen year old could say they constructed glasses for the Jagged Stone? Surely not the average bunch.

Oh, and did she mention superheroine? Yeah, she’s a superheroine.

The whole gig was shoved at her face, three months shy of her thirteenth birthday; and by gig she meant a brief guide, a blindingly red polka-dotted suit, a questionable choice of weapon (seriously, a yo-yo?), and an ill-timed partner.

Nonetheless, she worked with what she got. It's kept her alive so far already, why complain now?

She rubbed her eyes with a stifled yawn, ‘’Radiant....Carefree....Dreamy…’’

Marinette slammed the snooze button at the sound of that god forsaken jingle. Christ, she needed to change her alarm. All it did was make her reminisce of her former crush on Adrien Agreste; top teen Parisian model, son of fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste, and current boyfriend of future Olympiad, Kagami Tsurugi. Alas, old habits die hard, and this one was going to crash and burn any time soon; Marinette was sure of it.

A groan sounded out as she flopped to the floor, skillfully ignoring the tinkling laughter coming from her bedside. Ah, who was she kidding? It’d take some sort of absolute miracle to get over him completely. She would end up forever lonely, pining over a taken man, indefinitely getting dropped from position as lead designer for Jagged, friendless, Akumatized, disowned by her parents-

“None of those things are true, and you know it!”

She snapped her gaze up to the floating embodiment of creation, Tikki. Had her friend really thought that, that look could get Marinette to take back her spiel? She looked like an angry kitten for crying out loud!

Her cheeks reddened as she got up and dusted herself off, “Did I say that out loud?”

Judging by the narrowing of the tiny god's eyes, she’d say yes, it was said out loud. Damn, she was not looking forward to a morning lecture about her declining self esteem and her tendency of speaking her mind. Before Tikki could get even a word in, the Just In Case™ alarm for bad mornings went off. She shot the kwami a rueful grin and scurried over to the counter.

“Radian-“ the clock was chucked out of the three story building. Marinette watched from her window as it plummeted to its demise, in a heap of cheap metal and wires. Lovely.

A red blur zoomed to the front of her face, making her go cross-eyed, ‘’Marinette!’’ Tikki frowned shakily, struggling not to smile at her antics.

She shrugged and skipped over to her closet, in search for acceptable clothes,

‘’What? It was getting annoying! And besides, it’s not like it was worth that mu-!’’ They both froze at the pounding of the trap door.

Ugh, couldn’t they wait to bother her later?

‘‘You better get out of there soon, young lady! I don’t want another call from your school added to the list,’‘ Marinette was going to absolutely combust. It sucked enough that barely any of her ‘‘friends’’ stuck around, but Tom and Sabine? Really? Believing some complete stranger over her? It must be the lack of familial relation that makes it sting a bit less. It must.

She groaned tiredly, ‘’Yes, Sabine.’’

Once the descending pattering of her footsteps quieted, Tikki raced over to latch onto Marinette’s cheek. Her bluebell orbs peered up at her, filled with sympathy for her holder. She shook her head at the silent offer to talk; there’s no time for a pity party.

The kwami sighed sadly, before pecking her cheek and floating over to rest on her shoulder. Marinette plastered on an encouraging smile, ‘‘C’mon Tikks’, help me pick out and outfit for today! You know how indecisive I can be,”

After some thinking, they’ve come to the mutual decision of something completely out of Marinette’s alley. Instead of her usual pink capris, floral shirt, blazer, flats, and pigtails; she sported a plaid pleated skirt, a tucked in Queen Bee graphic tee, black two-inch heart buckled platform Mary Janes, and spacebuns. Who knew her wardrobe from Clara Nightingale’s on-set music video would come to use?

She ogled her reflection with a satisfied smirk, yeah, she was hot.

‘’Holy shit, Tikki, if I was still into Adrien,’’ she whistled, ‘’he’d drop to the floor as soon as he saw this; and that’s coming from me!’’

The kwami shook her head good naturedly, ‘’I’m glad you think so. I really like confident Marinette!’’ she nudged her shoulder, ‘’Although, I hope you aren’t doing this for your classmates’ approval...’’

She directed her gaze at Tikki; an other person’s approval? Why would she do something for another person’s approv- Oh. She actually wasn’t that far off.

‘‘Pssh. No, I would never! This is all me baby! The awesome, cool, and Pinterest board version, I mean,’‘ Marinette gave her little friend finger-guns and grabbed her purse. Enough about her, they needed to get to school before she was late again.

‘‘Get in Tikks’, if we wait any longer I’ll be,’‘ she checked the time on her phone, ‘‘like five minutes late to homeroom!’‘

She flitted into the bag as Marinette settled it onto her side. With one last look-over, she was off.

To say she struggled down the stairs was a complete and utter understatement. She almost died, multiple times. Maybe the platform shoes were a bad idea, a very, very, very bad idea. Marinette clutched onto the railing with an inhumane grip that could rival Alya’s on her phone; and that was telling you something.

Once she made it passed the death trap, or rather simply a few steps, she grabbed an espresso and a handful of cookies; the former being for her, and the latter for Tikki. She gave a fleeting wave to Sabine and Tom, not that they gave any mind.

She pulled out her phone, 8:26, she could work with that. Her phone buzzed with a text notification.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ 𝖈𝖍𝖑𝖔𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 ♥ ɴᴏᴡ

where the fuck are you

Marinette snorted and slid the cookies into her purse. She unlocked the screen and tapped the message icon.

{𝟖:𝟐𝟕} .•°¤*(¯`★´¯)*¤° 🎀 𝓃𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝑒 🎀 °¤*)¯´★`¯(*¤°•.

wouldnt you like to know weather boy

{𝟖:𝟐𝟪} (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ 𝖈𝖍𝖑𝖔𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 ♥

wow ur so funny im literally laughing so hard rn 😐

{𝟖:𝟐8} .•°¤*(¯`★´¯)*¤° 🎀 𝓃𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝑒 🎀 °¤*)¯´★`¯(*¤°•.

thank you, thank you, im here all night 🖤

Marinette looked both ways before crossing the intersection, Dupont just about a block away. She chugged her now-cold coffee and tossed it in the recycling bin, ‘’Score! And the crowd goes wil-!’’ the atmosphere suddenly stilted.

‘‘Dupain-Cheng,’‘ she swiveled around, and was met with the putrid swamp green slits shes grown to despise.

A snarl rolled off her tongue, ‘’Rossi.’’

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

omg guys so hi. im doing this. im actually doing the thing i said i would do here cuz im a bad bitch. 3k words i think. sorry for any mistakes i literally wrote this while watching pbs kids LMAOOOASODFWOEB @beautiful-disasters-sunshine idk if u still wanna be tagged when i do this kinda stuff but pm me if u dont <3

75 notes · View notes

evidencefile · 3 years

Text

@prinita.thevarajah on @southasia.art, 11/11/2019 to 11/19/2019

“Hello, Prinita @prinita.thevarajah here. This week I’ll be sharing my thoughts about Eelam cultural identity formation through Tamil cinema (Kollywood) and the Eelam diaspora.

Eelam Tamils are native to Sri Lanka and constitute the largest diasporic Tamil community outside of India. Not all diasporic Tamils share a collective sense of Tamil identity, though Kollywood has been crucial in marking and maintaining one’s Tamil identity in the diaspora, especially where Tamil communities often hold minority status. As an Eelam kid in Australia, I often looked towards Kollywood to shape my understanding of what it meant to be Tamil. The child of Eelam refugees who fled Sri Lanka in the 80s as war between the government and Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) erupted, ongoing violence carried out against Eelam Tamils halted our community's capacity in developing a 'popular culture’ of it’s own. To be an Eelam Tamil is to be part of a community whose territorial, cultural and ethno-linguistic identity have been so heavily discriminated against to the point of genocide. The trauma of war seeped into our identity formation, and our fragmented diaspora while incredibly resilient, had not one single cultural representation to rely on. So, despite a lack of representation, Kollywood became the pillar that Tamilness sat upon. And while the articulation of Dravidian identity and Tamil nationalism is profound in Kollywood, the struggles of Eelam Tamils fit well within the profound self proclamations of Tamil language, culture and tradition propagated by Kollywood, but solidarity failed to materialize on the screens.

This week I want to explore representations of Eelamness in Kollywood, highlight artists in the diaspora contributing to an Eelam cultural renaissance and ask - what does it mean to re-imagine Eelam popular culture and how can we reclaim our Eelmaness by de-centering Indian ideals of Tamilness?

Despite yearning for a Eelam identity that is whole, I cannot discount the profound impact Kollywood has had on molding me into a proud Tamil. As a child in Sydney, my Appa contributed to Inbathamil Oli (Sweet Sound of Tamil) - a 24 hour Tamil radio station.

He would take me along to spend overnight shifts at the station, and I would listen on fondly to his musings over the air. The theme song for the station was Mettu Podu from the film 1994 Tamil film, Duet. 20 years on, the song still sticks with me as an anthem for the strength, resilience and beauty of the Tamil community.

ஆண் : தங்கமே தமிழுக்கில்லை தட்டுப்பாடு ஒரு சரக்கிருக்குது முறுக்கிருக்குது மெட்டுப் போடு Tamil will never be lacking & I will make music to proclaim it! எத்தனை சபைகள் கண்டோம் எத்தனை எத்தனை பகையும் கண்டோம் அத்தனையும் சூடங்காட்டிச் சுட்டுப் போடு We have seen many fights We have been through many wars Forget them all and be free of them! மெட்டுப் போடு மெட்டுப் போடு என் தாய் கொடுத்த தமிழுக்கில்லை தட்டுப்பாடு Make music, make sound With the tongue of Tamil my mother gave me Tamil will never be lacking

MATERIALIZED AS TRAUMATIZED// Today I want to focus on the representation of Eelam Tamils in Kollywood as one that is flattened without nuance: a people in constant agony and despair, solidifying us in our state of trauma. It is certainly necessary to provide an understanding of the ramifications of genocide for Eelam Tamils. Where historically, our struggle has been erased: the denial of genocide and failure by the international community to intervene or hold the Sri Lankan state accountable for war crimes, the depiction of the plight of Eelam people in Kollywood is assumed to be informative. But I ask, why all trauma and no strength? If Kollywood could make room for us as broken people, why not also portray our vigor and irepressibility? How do we see ourselves as Eelam people when the only representation of us in popular culture is a community that is defeated?

Historically, Kollywood has been uninterested in Tamil diasporic subjects. It's preoccupation has been in the entrenched ideas of Tamil culture, tradition, modernity and ethno-linguistic nationalism. The praxis of Tamil cinema is guided by the everyday practices of Tamil lives in Tamil Nadu and fails to incorporate the question of identity that the diaspora grapples with. Consider that the political struggle of Eelam Tamils heralded a new phase of militant Tamil nationalism, created a society that reformers and poets of Tamil Nadu could only imagine, and waged a war for liberation that was of epic proportions in both triumph and tragedy. It is a grievance that a culture industry in the ‘heart of Tamil civilization’ did not give adequate artistic due in its mainstream medium to an achievement that is claimed by many a Tamil nationalist to have been the ‘height of Tamil civilization’

It’s clear that diasporic Tamil identities are shored up as an anomaly to normative Tamil cinematic identity. Looking closer at the 2000 film Thenali shows the vexed and complex relationship between the Eelam Tamils and those from Tamil Nadu.

Thenali (Kamal Hassan) is an Eelam man from Jaffna. He is a hyper anxious neurotic used by his psychiatrist to derail the career of Dr Kailash. Thenali falls in love with Dr Kailash’s sister, Janaki. The film follows an enraged Dr Kailash’s attempt to eliminate Thenali despite Thenali’s naive quest to please the Dr. Subtle distinctions portray the disparate identity of Eelam Tamils. From the Dr Kailash questioning why Thenali speaks Tamil differently, to Thenali painted as a miserable jest juggling irrational fears as a result of having his home raided by soldiers, his father attacked and mother raped. The film seeks to other Thenali, the traumatized Eelam man who just can’t seem to get it right. Towards the end of the film Dr Kailaish adopts words from the Jaffna dialect, but immediately corrects himself upon realization. If Thenali is the oppressed Eelam Tamil, Dr Kailash is a metonymy for India, whose help Thenali seeks again and again, refusing to see anything wrong in the doctor or his intentions, elevating him to the position of a divine being.

The political history of Tamil Nadu is riddled with moments when the people of Tamil Nadu and the state have been sympathetic to the cause of the Eelam Tamils, resulting in policies allowing Eelam Tamils to stay as refugees and also in offering us financial aid. Much like the fluctuation between compulsions that drive its foreign policy and the sympathy for Tamils expressed in Tamil Nadu, Dr Kailash declares his predicament that he is unable to disclose the thoughts he harbours. At the point when he thinks he is close to eliminating Thenali, he declares, ‘there is no joy in living as in watching destruction’, a statement that resonates deeply with the oft-repeated criticism of the Government of India and Tamil Nadu’s silence in the wake of the Sri Lankan army action in 2009 that resulted in the deaths of 100 000 Eelam Tamils

The film features the song "Injerungo" (slide 5&6) which supposedly includes Jaffna slang - but ask anyone actually from Eelam and they’ll tell you that Kamal Hassan missed the mark almost completely - Eelam kids, what do y’all think

Kannathil Muthamittaal (2002) is probably Kollywood’s most comprehensive take on the human cost and emotional toll endured by Eelam Tamils, complete with visceral descriptions and images of war torn Sri Lanka. The film tells the story of an Eelam girl, Amudha who is adopted by an Indian Tamil couple, and the family’s journey back to Sri Lanka to reacquaint mother and daughter. Her biological parents abandon Amudha to join the ‘rebel cause’ who we can assume is the LTTE. Rather predictably, considering the labeling of the LTTE as a terrorist organization, there is no overt reference made to the group. The rebels are depicted as armed men who speak Jaffna Tamil and the audience are left to form their own interpretation. Much like Thenali remains silent about the cause of Thenali’s oppression, Kannathil Muthamittaal resists making explicit reference to the cause of conflict or parties involved. Expectedly, the film holds arms traffickers responsible for the plight of Eelam Tamils, as opposed to the Sinhalese government, erasing actual genocidal intent since 1948. After visiting the island and witnessing the helplessness of the Eelam people, Amudha and her family return to Tamil Nadu. The underlying message is that the Indian Tamil is both politically and culturally superior and more empowered than the Eelam Tamil.

A common thread in both Kannathil Muthamittall and Thenali is that in the traumatized portrayal of Eelam subjects, Kollywood domesticates Eelam Tamils for an Indian Tamil public. Eelam Tamils are removed of their political agency and are presented as an object of pity. Rather than demanding concrete political solidarity, an abstract humanitarian sentiment is requested. As if to say, “ooh, look how they suffer. Let’s marry them. Or adopt them. Assimilate them into our safe lives. Let us be their providers.” Charity is the gesture appealed for, but there is always something fundamentally depraving in charity.

Tonight I want to make space to think about what it looks like to reimagine and reconstruct an Eelam Tamil cultural identity, away from Indian Tamil ideals.

An accurate portrayal of the political, social and existential condition of the Eelam Tamils is yet to be found in Kollywood. And as Eelam Tamils, we reject being labeled as Sri Lankan as to do so means aligning with the very state that attempted to erase our existence. What does this then mean for our capacity to develop as a people within the island? The North-East of Sri Lanka, the Tamil homeland, is one of the most heavily-militarized regions in the world. Currently, according to the Adayalaam Centre for Policy Research, in the Mullaitivu District - where the last phase of armed conflict was fought - at least 60 000 Sri Lankan army troops are stationed. That’s 25% of the 243 000 military personnel of the whole country. Our people in Eelam are under constant surveillance and control, the military's presence in Eelam facilitates displacement and land grabbing that consequently destabilizes and disrupts the day to day activities of our community. Survival becomes the goal with the preservation and development of culture an understandable after thought.

Considering the impossibility of any free Eelam Tamil cinema developing under the Sri Lankan state, we turn to the diaspora. This year marks the 10th anniversary of the genocide against Eelam people, and as we move into the new decade, it's vital to reflect and consider deeply the history we pave forward as a community. How are we creating stories for ourselves away from the narrow narrative that has been bolstered by Kollywood? How are we reclaiming the identities that the state of Sri Lanka tries to squash daily? At what point do we move away from memorializing genocide to depicting our resilience and expansiveness?

In the pursuit of an Eelam identity that is total, fragmented identities of caste, kinship, class, and region are devalued, uniting diasporic Tamils and strengthening our affinity to ūr. I want to spend the next few days exploring what it looks like to embrace our Eelamness fully as a diasporic people. I believe that in doing the work to understand and articulate ourselves wholly, we as diaspora Eelam Tamils begin to heal the trauma that has trickled down through our bloodlines. Our narrative has a destiny that is full of autonomy, solidarity and collaboration.

HIGHLY EXPLOSIVE/READY/RAW

I begin my imagination on the embodiment of diasporic Eelamness by exploring the legacy of Mathangi/Maya Arulpragasm, M.I.A. Not to revere or glorify, instead to honor and applaud her immense strides to give us visibility while fully embracing the multifaceted and radical notion of being an Eelam Tamil. Maya remains one of the only widely known representations of our community, from our community. That she is as revolutionary, innovative & resilient as she is is a reflection of the immense talent, ingenuity and pure force of Eelam people. Through her art, she amplifies the placelessness and the cultural and political contradictions that come with being an Eelam Tamil in a hyper-globalized world. The fact that she is so often dismissed, ridiculed and as of late ‘cancelled’, is clarification of her power in undermining and challenging unequal systems of control. From flipping off the Super Bowl to being banned from Sri Lanka, Maya is an unapologetic weapon of freedom.

Maya is a DIY artist guided by her trajectory from refugee to icon. Her strength in bringing bits and pieces together: beats, words, images, ideas - to create something new while centering her narrative as an Eelam woman, epitomizes the journey of an Eelam Tamil. Against a culture that glamorizes reality & equates beauty to consumption, Maya provokes a discussion about how the minority live, closing the distance between here and everywhere else. To be a diasporic Eelam Tamil means to be gaslighted by an entire nation, and yet moving uncompromisingly forward in being deeply inspired in our current contexts to bring change, revolutionize & decolonize. And while M.I.A. cannot go back home, we can.

Sunshowers came out when I was 9 years old. One Saturday morning, I crawled out of bed to watch music videos and inhale cereal and suddenly become entranced when Maya appeared, the hypnotic jungle beats blowing my mind. Up until then, the most representation I had as an Eelam kid was my reflection on a blank TV screen.

Reflecting on the music video now and it's images of brown women organizing, I draw parallels to the ideals and aims of the Women's Front of the LTTE. While it is not productive to linger on what could've been, I do believe that a radical imagination will set us free - and perhaps, this was Maya's intention, to provoke profound fantasies to revive the legacy of our ancestors.The aims of the Women’s Front were to: secure the right of self-determination of Tamil Eelam, to abolish oppressive caste discrimination and feudal customs such as the dowry system; and to eliminate all discrimination, secure social, political, and economic equality.

At the end of verse 1, Maya chants 'like PLO, I don't surrendo', making reference to the Palestinian Liberation Organization, emphasizing the interconnectedness of struggles throughout the world and the need to collaborate with and show solidarity with groups of people who experience similar discrimination under colonization. How can transnational, decolonial solidarity allow evolution to our identity as Eelam people? What does it mean to maintain the radical, non-violent goals Eelam within the diaspora?

BIRD FLU

2006/The track draws on the sonics of urumi/gaana that most Eelam kids will recognize. You know the sound cos when you hear it you can’t stop moving: it’s an infectious outbreak/dance break. Maya swims in a sea of folks who look like they could be my Anna or Thangachi - the visuals look like the homeland. It’s the noise of freedom, the resistance of dominant interpretation. Within the sonic dance break of Bird Flu, Maya cultivates themes of militarized warfare and global dispossession spins them into a collective resource for imagining the alternate for Eelam Tamils.

Running with this idea of ‘flu’ and ‘contagion’, with the sound and it’s accompanying visuals, Maya emphasizes the need to spread ideas of alternative utopian possibilities, collectivity, belonging, and pleasure in the midst of & despite devastation by warfare. For me, Bird Flu provides a refreshing moment of criticality—an opportunity to reactivate our political imaginations and reconceptualize eelam community.

SRI LANKA JUST ELECTED A WAR CRIMINAL AS PRESIDENT and I continue my attempt to unravel Eelamness. With the ache in my heart and rage in my chest I ask: how do we move forward?

When Sri Lanka repeatedly assigns power to murderers and thieves, Kollywood tries to cement us as wounded and the rest of the world exclaims ‘oh Sri Lanka! That’s near India right!!???!!?' how are we as a community dealing? Where our experiences of genocide are dismissed transnationally, how do we divert fury and desire for validation of our struggle to healing? How are we to heal when the scab keeps being torn open? What are our responsibilities, as artists, to bring rejuvenation and radical change?

As we grieve for the homeland, I encourage you to think about the privilege that comes with being in the diaspora. Our access to resources expands our capacity to strategize and organize: we cannot limit ourselves. Christopher Kulendran Thomas is an Eelam artist based in London & Berlin. Thomas’s 'New Eelam’ disregards the boundaries of the white cube to project an alternate reality of citizenship and ownership. Provoking the art world itself, Thomas is interested in how his work as an artist can bring structural and social change. New Eelam is presented as a real estate start up of sorts with a housing model grounded in collective international co-ownership: subscribers pay the same amount to access different houses across the world. Working alongside an architect and team of real estate, finance, law and tech folks, Thomas seeks to provoke conversations around property and migration. Our identity as a people is one that is marked by consistent displacement and disruption. We are dispersed but profoundly connected. New Eelam imagines a future that brings autonomy in migration and allows us to maintain the idea of an Eelam the transcends borders. Freedom of movement increases opportunities to collaborate, and our collaboration as a diaspora is essential in the liberation and legacy of Eelam.

When the riots began, My Thatha was the principal at Jaffna College in Killinochi. His school shut down immediately and when I was 6 months, he moved to Sydney and into our home on Burlington Road. Being in a war affected refugee household brings with it a plethora of traumas & my relationship with my grandfather was my safe space. He is an artist - and his idea of child minding was reciting Thirukurral to me as I listened at his feet, entranced: my fingers often swirling in acrylic paints or homemade clay. When I was scared, he would serenade me with sangitham, gamakas cartwheeling from his belly through his chest. Sometimes at night I would tip toe out of the bedroom I shared with my parents and older siblings into Thatha’s room. More often than not, he would be in a state of hypnosis, brushing away at a canvas with images that usually resembled home. Reflecting on this time in my life, I understand that creative expression was Thatha’s device for healing. Not only did his art allow him to reconnect with Eelam, but it also allows him to rewrite and reimagine his narrative.

My attempt to dissect our Eelam Tamil identity has been perplexing yet empowering. As a community heavily persecuted against within the island, distressingly traumatized within the diaspora and yet profoundly capable and irrepressible, I wonder - how can we as a community of diasporic artists begin to shift our narrative? They burnt down the Jaffna library for a reason, they saw our vision and were threatened by it. How can we harness the collective rage we feel productively in a way that not only allows for the liberation of our own people but inspires expansive radical change?

My fellow Eelam people, I challenge you to think large - move away from the commodified and the curated, the white cube and other structures and systems that attempt to contain our ideas. I encourage you to think about art as a a movement for change as opposed to an aesthetic. Organizing is a form of art, protest is a form of art and so is survival. We must use our creativity as an imaginative space that provokes discussion, dialogue and education across struggles. How, through our art, can we make the invisible, visible while listening and working alongside our Eelam community at home?”

Original posts available here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here. Wanted to repost this from @southasia.art on Instagram because of how informative it was.

#tamil #tamil film #sri lanka #kollywood #m.i.a.

8 notes · View notes

i-write-and-therefore-i-am · 4 years

Text

One Monstrous Miracle (Part Four)

Hey guys! I’d meant to get this out earlier today, but I’d also meant for it to be about 3,000 words shorter, so there we are. As always, give this chapter a cheeky little vibe check, and let me know if you find any mistakes! I love you all, enjoy, all those good things. Yay, melatonin! (Pssst! Also, if you’d rather read on Ao3 instead, here it is).

Previous-Next-First

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human!reader

Summary: Tender ANGST. Very angsty, might make you cry, i dunno.

Warnings: Aziraphale says a word that Microsoft Word told me may offend my readers, but other than that, I think we’re good. Let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: A WHOPPING 5295!! They’re getting loooooooonger.

This day, like many days, started off deceptively the same as always. Aziraphale had gotten up on the right side of the bed, the weather was not particularly noteworthy, and there was no string of minor accidents that would lead anyone to believe that this was going to be a Very Bad Day Indeed. Nevertheless, unbeknownst to most parties involved, this day was, in fact, going to be a Very Bad Day Indeed, possibly even The Worst Day Ever.

Aziraphale had been feeling happier than he could remember ever having been in his whole life. After you had shown up in his shop after weeks of not speaking to him, the two of you had spent very little time apart. You had resumed your habit of stopping by after work, much to Aziraphale’s great relief. He had missed you dearly, and he was enormously grateful that you had found it in your heart to forgive him. He shuddered when he thought of that night, remembering how terrified you had looked. Aziraphale had truly never felt quite as angry as he had when Crowley had insulted you, and it brought him right back to his younger days as a fiery agent of the Lord, smiting all who dared to cross Her. He had locked that part of him away, and until that fight with Crowley, he had all but forgotten about it. He’d decided very firmly that you would never again see him like that.

Today, Crowley had demanded that Aziraphale come over to his flat to make what he called an “Apocalypse Plan”. Things were getting rather sticky lately, and their search for the true Antichrist seemed fruitless. It was time, Crowley said, to bring out the “big guns”. What those guns were Aziraphale had no idea, but he could only hope that it wasn’t anything too drastic. He had just bought his new coat, after all. He’d made a quick call to you before closing his shop and heading over to Crowley’s.

“I’m terribly sorry my dear, but I’m afraid I don’t know when I’ll be home. Crowley is rather—”

“Difficult. I know, Azi, it’s okay. Take your time.”

Warmth bloomed over Aziraphale, and he couldn’t help the tender smile that worked its way across his face. You were so full of understanding, something that he’d had precious few encounters with during his time on Earth. As much as he loved humans and all their little quirks and flaws, it sometimes bothered him that for most of his life, he had been completely alone. Sure, there was Crowley, and he was absolutely infuriating but somehow endearing, but he was a demon, after all. There were fundamental things that they just would never understand about each other, no matter how long they’d been friends. You were different. You accepted Aziraphale, never questioning him or teasing him (of course you teased him, but never about his weight, or his obsession with books, or how the noises he made when eating sushi) or making him feel the way that the other angels invariably did. It was one of the many reasons he’d found he loved you for.

“Thank you, Y/N. I will call you if I get back earlier than I expect.”

“Thanks, Aziraphale. Have fun with Crowley! Give him my love.”

That was another thing. Aziraphale had been terrified that after such a disastrous first meeting, you would hate Crowley. Somehow, the exact opposite had happened, and after the two of you had gotten used to each other’s presence, you’d become fast friends. Aziraphale hadn’t realized how close the two of you had gotten until Crowley had yanked him into the back room of his shop one night and given him the sternest dressing-down the demon could probably muster, and promised that Aziraphale would regret ever having been created if he hurt you again. “Aren’t you meant to be on my side, dear boy?” Aziraphale had asked bemusedly, feeling very wrongfooted. “Oh, I am. I’ve already talked to her, she’s good. I just need to make sure that you don’t fuck this up, Angel.” Aziraphale had, through his tears, assured him that he had no intention of intentionally hurting you as long as you would have him (as a friend, of course).

“I will. See you soon, my dear.”

“See you. Bye!”

Aziraphale hung up, already missing the sound of your voice. He shut the lights off and headed out of the shop, locking the door behind him. Although he was a celestial being, and most definitely could make himself appear at Crowley’s door with little more than a thought, he found he enjoyed taking public transport. It was blessedly slower than riding in Crowley’s car, and it allowed him time to sit and watch the people around him. Aziraphale found himself strangely emotional as he looked around him at all the advances humans had made over the thousands of years he had walked among them. All the subtleties, the headphones in a young man’s ears, a little girl reading a book half the size of her head, a woman applying hand sanitizer. All these things made his heart ache with admiration. Yes, despite all the atrocities that humanity had perpetuated, Aziraphale knew that the vast majority of them were worth saving. He shifted in his seat, waiting for his stop.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aziraphale hadn’t expected the absolute destruction that awaited him when Crowley opened his door twenty minutes later. Papers were littered everywhere, plastered on the wall, hanging from bits of string from the ceiling, and covering nearly every surface in the flat, including much of the floor. Aziraphale tilted his head, surveying the inexplicable damage.

“Are you…quite alright, dear boy?” Aziraphale inquired as Crowley shut the door behind him. Crowley came to stand beside him, and Aziraphale took the opportunity to look his friend over.

Crowley had always been obsessed with his appearance, even in the early days when self-grooming hadn’t quite been invented yet. Crowley was even worse than Aziraphale himself was at times, which was truly frightening. Today, however, seemed to be rather a large exception to the rule. Not one item on the demon’s body matched, even down to his feet, the left of which sported a thick, woolly sock, while the other was covered with bright green fabric with miniature snakes all over. “At least he’s wearing trousers,” Aziraphale thought gratefully. Crowley turned his wild and un-sunglassed eyes towards Aziraphale, and he quickly retracted his gratefulness. The day was not over yet.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m perfectly fine, nothing to worry about. Shall we sit?”

Aziraphale stared, feeling the gears turning almost painfully in his head. What on Earth had happened to Crowley? He had never acted this way, even during the chaos of the witch trials of the 16th and 17th centuries. He seemed…unhinged. As most people are no doubt aware, and if not, they can at the very least assume, an unhinged demon is a very dangerous demon. Aziraphale could do nothing but watch his friend as he pranced over to the desk at the center of the room, trying desperately to think of his next course of action. Crowley gestured impatiently at him and Aziraphale had no choice but to acquiesce. He was nearly to the desk when he was distracted by the sound of rustling leaves in the next room. He tilted his head, listening. His lips pursed in response to what he heard.

“Crowley, I’ve told you before that you simply must take better care of these creatures!” Aziraphale gasped, forgetting everything else. Crowley clicked his forked tongue dismissively.

“They’re just plants, Angel, I don’t understand why you’re always so concerned about them. And I don’t see any problems with them, anyway. Look at how green they are!” Aziraphale could tell that he had directed that last part to the plants, because they all gave a collective, terrified shudder. Aziraphale sighed in resignation and turned to the poor things, cooing and soothing their frayed nerves.

“Don’t mind him, my dears. You’re all lovely, no matter what the evil demon says—”

“I can hear you!”

Aziraphale ignored Crowley in favor of sending cool, calming thoughts to the plants. He didn’t leave them until their leaves stopped trembling. Feeling very satisfied with himself, Aziraphale turned back to the desk. He strode over and sat at one of the (significantly less ornate than Crowley’s own “throne”) chairs, shifting uncomfortably. He waited for Crowley to start explaining himself.

“As you know, the Antichrist is…missing—”

“You could, possibly, skip that bit seeing as we both know this part of the problem,” Aziraphale interjected. He was the very epitome of patience at the best of times, but this was decidedly not the best of times, and he was quite eager to fix this mistake that was all Crowley’s fault and had absolutely no connection to Aziraphale whatsoever. The fate of the world as we know it was at stake, after all. Crowley huffed, clearly upset that Aziraphale had cut off his carefully practiced speech, but Aziraphale really couldn’t find it in him to care (This was a lie: Aziraphale cared a great deal).

“Fine.” Crowley hissed. He opened his mouth to say more, but he was interrupted by insistent knocking at the door.

Silence. Neither of them moved a muscle, staring wide-eyed at each other. Nothing happened for a moment, but then the knocks came again, louder than before. Aziraphale barely kept himself from letting out a pathetic whimper, earning him a deathly glare. Aziraphale started bouncing his leg, trying to resist the urge to open the door. As an angel, it was just not in his character to ignore someone, no matter the context. Crowley knew this about him and was trying to ease his anxiety.

“C’mon angel, leave it be. They’ll leave. It’s probably some teenager trying to sell magazine subscriptions.” Crowley thought at the angel. He knew immediately that he had used the wrong words because Aziraphale’s expression turned into one he knew well—it was the exact one he wore when complaining about how Crowley treated his plants. Aziraphale’s eyes were so full of compassion it nearly made the demon gag with its intensity.

“The poor child! They’re probably selling to provide for their family, or the like. Oh, Crowley, you know I can’t leave them out there!”

Before Crowley could stop him, Aziraphale had jumped up from his chair and was rushing towards the door. A feeling of growing doom washed over him as Aziraphale disappeared behind the wall separating the front door from the rest of the flat. Something was horribly wrong.

Perhaps because he hadn’t been paying enough attention, or because his mind had been so preoccupied with the vision of the poor, snotty-nosed, raggedy youth swimming in his mind, but whatever it was, Aziraphale hadn’t picked up on the same ominous feeling as his demonic counterpart. Guileless, Aziraphale turned the doorknob and swung open the door. The sight that greeted him turned his stomach to lead and set his heart beating faster than it had the right to even think about working. He schooled his features into his usual, easy going smile, all the while thinking desperately at Crowley from across the flat.

“It’s angels. Stay quiet.”

“Michael! And Uriel.” There was a flash of diamond-studded teeth, and Aziraphale felt his throat constrict. “And, ah, Sandalphon. What a surprise! W-What brings you here, exactly?”

“We could ask you the same thing, Aziraphale,” Michael responded, a terrifying glint in their eyes. “It is rather odd to find you here, of all places.” Aziraphale had no idea what to do. He had been caught out, finally, after all these millennia, and he was going to be discorporated, or worse, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was finished. He would never eat sushi again, never dance the gavotte, never see Y/N—

“Here? Whatever do you mean?” Aziraphale inquired, trying to look as innocent as a very clearly guilty person could. Sandalphon snarled but Michael silenced him with a look.

“Here as in the known residence of the demon Crowley, the very same Crowley that you have been providing reports on for last 200,000 years. How very interesting that we would find you here, in his home.” Uriel had always had such a knack for quiet intimidation, and she used it now. Aziraphale gulped, shifting from one foot to the other. He had to think of something, and quickly. Sandalphon broke from the group and moved closer to Aziraphale, so close that Aziraphale nearly went cross-eyed looking down his nose at the shorter being. The angel sniffed at his coat, taking one of the worn lapels and rubbing it in between his clawed fingers.

“Hmm. Smells evil.” He stepped back into rank, glaring at Aziraphale. Aziraphale swallowed hard, praying for strength.

“Well, ah, that would be because…” He trailed off, wracking his brain for anything, literally anything, to tell them. As they were essentially Gabriel’s innermost circle of confidantes in Heaven, Aziraphale knew that if he let them leave this place thinking that he had been working with the enemy instead of against, that would be the end of everything.

“What’s going on?” He heard Crowley thinking at him.

“Shut up! And stay that way.” He could feel Crowley’s indignation, but he obeyed.

“’Because’ what, Aziraphale?” Michael demanded. Aziraphale looked between the three angels, and suddenly, out of nowhere, the words flooded into his mind.

“Because I was doing surveillance!” Aziraphale blurted before he’d had the chance to think about it. The angels frowned, skeptical.

“Surveillance?” Uriel repeated, sharing a look with Michael. Aziraphale nodded, feeling his heartrate slow as his anxiety left him.

“Surveillance, my friends. I have been monitoring Crowley’s actions more closely since the birth of the Antichrist. I decided to have a bit of a peek around here to see if he had any…”

“Information?” Sandalphon supplied.

“That’s the ticket! Information. Unfortunately, you arrived not long after I did, so I haven’t been able to find anything of note just yet—”

“Well, then, let us help you, Aziraphale!” Michael interrupted, moving to push past him into the flat. Aziraphale grabbed their arm, keeping them from moving any further. “What in—”

“Crowley can’t sense my presence, with me being but lowly principality in comparison to you. You, being an Archangel, I can imagine that even Crowley would be able to tell if you’d been in his flat. Your imminence.” Aziraphale saw the slight blush that appeared on Michael’s face at his words. They had always been a bit of a narcissist, and the fastest way into their good spirits would always be cheap and simply flattery. They stepped back, straightening their blazer and clearing their throat.

“That is true. Even so low a demon as Crowley would be able to sense my power. Very well, then, Aziraphale, I’ll leave you to it. But know that we” they gestured to their companions. Uriel smirked at him while Sandalphon grinned, showing off his sparkling, sharpened teeth. “are watching you.”

With that, the three of them vanished. Aziraphale was left in corridor alone, still trying to come to terms with what had just happened. Slowly he realized that the taste of miracles lingered in his mouth, dancing on the tip of his tongue. This was no ordinary miracle, however. This miracle tasted of mana, of saltwater taffy and just a hint of last week’s winning lottery numbers. How odd. Aziraphale spun around and raced back into the flat to relay everything to Crowley.

“So your people are onto us. Of course it would happen now, of all times. We’ve just gotta be more careful…Angel? What’s wrong?” Crowley had caught sight of the expression on Aziraphale’s face; one of complete and utter despair, like all his dreams had come crashing down around him all at once. Alarmed, the demon pushed out of his chair and came closer to his friend. “Hey, it’s not that bad, we’ve prepared for this—”

“Y/N.” Aziraphale lifted his head to look Crowley in the eye. “She’s in danger. If they’ve been watching me, then they know about her and if they don’t already, they will know soon enough.” Crowley slumped, knowing it was true. He also knew what Aziraphale was about to do next.

“I can’t see her anymore.” If Crowley had had a heart, it would have broken into a million tiny pieces at the raw despair in the Angel’s voice. He knew how you both felt about each other, and how, after spending all that time apart, having to break off your growing relationship off once again would destroy both of you. He said nothing. “They will kill her, Crowley.”

“I know.” Neither of them said anything after that. Aziraphale took a deep, shuddering breath, opened his mouth as if to talk, but then shut it again. Crowley put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“But I also know that if you push her away like this, after what happened before, she might not come back,” When Aziraphale met his eyes, he knew that that didn’t matter to the Angel. He loved you so much that keeping you safe meant more to him than being near you. Crowley gave his friend’s shoulder a squeeze and nodded.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were running late, not that it truly mattered. Aziraphale had called you an hour ago to tell you that he had, in fact, gotten home from Crowley’s earlier than expected and that you could come over for a spot of cocoa if you wished. You had spent almost 45 minutes trying to get dressed. For whatever reason, you’d decided to try and look nice for a change, rather than your usual scrubs or wrinkled work clothes. A random idea had popped into your head, making you wonder how Aziraphale would react to seeing you in make up for the first time. So, wearing one of your nicest blouses and skirts with your least favorite pair of achy heels, you were speed walking down Aziraphale’s street. The familiar feeling of butterflies in your belly increased in intensity the closer you got to the shop. Maybe today was the day you would finally tell him how you truly felt about him. Then again, maybe it wasn’t.

You weren’t expecting to see Aziraphale standing in the middle of the main room of the shop. Usually he was off in the back or upstairs even, but it was rare to see him out front. Especially when he wasn’t shelving books, which he definitely wasn’t. You frowned, closing the door behind you and moving to stand in front of him. There was something…off about the man today, something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but you knew it was there regardless.

“Azi, wha—”

“Hello, Y/N. May I get you some of that cocoa?” Aziraphale started, as though you’d never opened your mouth. You could tell that something was well and truly wrong now—Aziraphale didn’t have an impolite bone in his body. He would never cut you off when you were trying to speak. Your frown deepened as you tried to look him in the eyes, but he stared resolutely at a point just above your head.

“No, Aziraphale, what’s the matter?” He tilted his head to the side, eyebrows scrunched together as he looked down at you.

“’The matter’? Nothing’s the matter. Everything is fine, my dear.” He paused. You watched as his expression, already more shuttered that you had ever seen it, darken even further, making his face go blank. You were shocked. You had never seen Aziraphale like this, and you had no idea what had happened to make him so…angry? You couldn’t tell. All you could do was wait for him to continue.

A war was raging inside of Aziraphale, as it had been for the last few hours. A million possibilities floated around his mind, each one more ludicrous than the last. He could tell you that he was going on holiday and that you would see him in oooh…never because the world was doomed to end within the year. He could tell you that an old relation had passed away and that he needed to go home to Wales to settle the…whatever it was that humans settled when a loved one died. He could tell you the truth, that he loved you too much to keep you, that he was of the second-highest choir of angels and that some very bad angels were hunting for his golden blood as you spoke. Or he could say nothing, invite you upstairs for some telly and cuddling and continue living in this little bubble that the two of you have lovingly and tenderly created for yourselves. You could go on living in happiness…until, of course, Gabriel found out and smote you quite dead. The thought sent a trail of ice racing down his spine. He shook his head violently. Crowley’s lie it was, then.

“Actually, there is something that I need to speak with you about.” On instinct, your had shot out and reached for his but he pulled his hand back out of your reach. Hurt, you stared at him in shock. What the hell was happening? Was he breaking up with you? Not that the two of you were in a real relationship just yet, but after your talk, after everything, was this the end? Before it had even started? You refused to believe that your Azi could be so cruel.

“I…I can’t. I can’t do this.” Came the harsh nail in the coffin of your dreams. Tears sprang to your eyes but you held them back valiantly. Aziraphale could see them, trembling on your bottom eyelid, threatening to fall and to ruin this whole thing. His next words came out in a hurry, as though he was afraid if he didn’t say them quickly, he wouldn’t say them at all. Perhaps that was true.

“This. Us.” He gestured between the two of you. “Its…superfluous. I’m done with it and I am done with you. You were convenient, naieve and willing at a time when I was bored and lonely. That’s over now, and so is this. You can’t come to the shop anymore. Don’t call me because I won’t answer the phone. We’re done.”

Now, it is important that you know that angels don’t need to breathe. Well, perhaps that is a bit extreme. They do breathe, they have working cardiorespiratory systems that pump their golden blood throughout their bodies, just not with the same frequency as other life forms. In fact, an angel can hold their breath for years, which you may take anyway you wish. But in this moment, Aziraphale struggled to draw breath. As he watched the tears fall down your cheeks, ruining the liner and mascara that you had no doubt spent a great deal of time perfecting, he knew that there was no coming back from this. You would leave him, you would grow to hate him, if you didn’t already. He would never see you again.

But at least he knew you would be safe.

Aziraphale turned, unable to torture himself any further by watching you cry in front of him and not doing anything about it. His fingers itched to take you into his arms and hold you, to take back everything he had just said, but he restrained himself. This was how it had to be. He squared his shoulders, speaking without turning back,

“I’m sure you can show yourself out.” That was it. The last time he would ever lay eyes on you and he couldn’t even bring himself to look you in the eye. Gabriel was right, he had always been right. God had made some terrible mistake, appointing him a Principality. “Angel of the Eastern Gate” his divine bollocks. More like sniveling, fat coward who fails at everything and—

Aziraphale looked down to see your hand, smaller and softer than his own, covering his. He frowned at it, his grief-addled brain taking longer than normal to come up with an explanation. Surely you had stormed out of the shop in angry tears, vowing to hate the thought of him forever. How could your hand be here, slipping its fingers through his and intertwining themselves together as though they belonged that way? He turned his head, seeing that your hand was, in fact, connected to your arm, which was, surprise upon surprise, connected to you. You were still there, blotchy faced and bright-eyed, but still there, standing in his shop, stubbornly refusing to leave even after he had said all those terrible things to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, feeling faint headed.

“Do you hate me?” You asked, feeling very brace. Aziraphale turned around to face you fully, unable to believe what you had just asked him.

“No! Not—”

“Did I do something to offend you? Or to make you angry with me?” Aziraphale shook his head. He had to force you to leave him, but he found that he couldn’t let you leave thinking that he felt those awful things about you.

“Then why are you doing this to me? Is someone forcing you for whatever reason. Just tell me the truth, Azi,” At this, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I will try to understand.”

And it was then, that Aziraphale finally understood. Of course you would . You were kind, and patient, and the most forgiving soul he had ever met on Earth. Of course you would see through his veneer and into his true self, the one that called out to you even as he tried to push you away. He didn’t say anything at first, trying to filter his words and find the right things to say. Being as perfect as you always were, you stood there, eagerly waiting but not pushing. He did not deserve you in his life. He stepped forwards, bringing his free hand to grasp your other hand. He brought them up to his chest, resting over his heart.

“Alright. Alright, I am going to tell you something, but I cannot explain, and I cannot tell you anything more than what I am about to say. You must promise me that you won’t ask any questions until I tell you to.” “When will that be?” Aziraphale cracked a small smile, but it melted away as soon as it had appeared.

“I’m afraid I don’t know, my dear. But you must trust me. Please.” He could see the familiar fire of defiance in your eyes as you hesitated to respond. But once again, he stood in awe as you nodded.

“Yes. Of course I trust you, Azi. Tell me what’s wrong.” He was not able to stop himself from bending his neck to press a grateful kiss to your hands. You gasped quietly but said nothing. He began.

“Thank you. You’ve no idea how much that means to me. I’ll get straight to it: being with me puts you in a very real, very serious sort of danger. Know that I wouldn’t dream of putting you through all of this unless it was so serious. I cannot bear the thought that your life may be in danger because of me.” He paused, watching your face, trying to figure out what you were thinking. He could read your mind, of course, but that would be terribly improper. Instead, he had to deal with this the hard way—difficult conversation.

“So…my life is in danger?”

“When you are with me, yes. I am truly sorry, Y/N. I wish things were different. I find that I…” He trailed off, caught in your beloved gaze, and he found that he could no longer hold back. Not when this was the last time he would be with you. It was now or never, and never was certainly not a legitimate option. “I find that I have fallen in love with you. Yes. I…I love you, Y/N, and that is exactly why I must keep you as far away from me as I can. I need you to be safe, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me.”

Your face did the most extraordinary thing. For a second, you stared at Aziraphale, understandably overwhelmed with all of this new information he had thrown at you. He waited, as courteous as ever, for you to piece it all together. When you did, your face bloomed into the most radiant smile Aziraphale had ever seen. His heart leapt in his chest at the sight, so wholly unprepared for something so beautiful.

“I understand. I really do understand, Aziraphale.” You said, inexplicably. Aziraphale felt on the verge of tears as he looked at you and saw that you were telling the truth. Hope flooded him, fierce and intense, and for the first time in hours, he thought that maybe he didn’t have to lose you forever. Maybe this wasn’t goodbye. You kept going. “I can’t say that this doesn’t hurt, because it does. Because…I love you too. I have done for months and I’ve always been too afraid to tell you. But I might as well tell you now, so you don’t go moping around without me.” You both chuckled at that. You stayed still for a few moments, drinking in this last bit of time together for the foreseeable future. You knew it couldn’t last, however much you wanted it to, and so eventually, you pulled your hands gently out of his and took a step back.

“So this is goodbye, I suppose?” You asked, already missing his warmth. He nodded, feeling much the same way.

You stood and watched each other, trying to commit the other’s face to memory. Neither of you knew when you would be seeing each other again. Impulsively, you sprung forwards, startling Aziraphale with your sudden movement towards him. He wasn’t sure what you were up to, but he found out almost instantaneously, as he felt your soft lips press a small kiss against his cheeks. Heat rushed through his body, but he was able to control himself—barely. He blinked stupidly as you pulled away, smiling mischievously at him. You were still very close to him, so close that he could see the flecks of gold in your eyes that he adored so much. You fidgeted with his coat, and Aziraphale had to keep himself from wincing at the thought that you were fingering the same place that Sandalphon had earlier. He let you continue, content to watch and wait. You eventually did what you had set out to do, which was straighten his lapels and collar, and you patted his chest in satisfaction. You sighed and looked up at him.

“Come back to me, Azi, okay?” Aziraphale’s hands came up, entirely of their own volition, to grip tightly around her waist in response.

“Of course I will! I promise, my love, I will come back to you once all of this…kerfuffle is over.”

A little while later, you were leaving, turning, walking out of the bookshop and away from Aziraphale.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“There she is!”

“Hush, you’ll get us caught!”

“Sorry, I’m just so…”

“I know. One my mark…now!”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Authorities are asking for anyone who has any information about the possible whereabouts of the missing person to please call 999. Can you repeat that information for our listeners, Bob?”

“Of course, Janet. Her name is Y/N L/N, and she is believed to have been kidnapped on her way home late last night. Please, keep both her and her family and friends in your prayers tonight.”

“Thank you, Bob. Now on to the weather. Sue?”

Tag List:

@chelsfic @lordbeezyprinceofhell @bi-andreadyto-cry @petalduck @dreamerkim @stripedbugs @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen @caligirl1992

PLEASE tell me if you want to be added/taken off/have asked before but I’m stupid and I never added you!!!

#mine #aziraphale x reader #Aziraphale #crowley #michael sheen #good omens #One Monstrous Miracle

30 notes · View notes

hidelaney · 4 years

Text

Hi Delaney!

Ah, yes the quarantine. It’s getting to me. Definitely. Suddenly I have no office to go to. But it’s good, I think. Make the CEO realize the upper management has no literal reasons to keep us in the office. Like at all. Seriously, everyone from my team is working from home and the level of productivity is actually better. Because guess what? Not having people breathing down our necks is SUPER helpful. So HA!

Okay, about Larry Stylinson. You’re right, I did fall into YouTube Blackhole. And Twitter. And I just watched 1D San Siro concert. By watching, I mean I actually paused the work I’m doing and looked at the screen while it played. Admittedly I was also doing chores but! It wasn’t just background music! It counted!

When I said I could put Larry Stylinson in a microwave and be done with it, I mean the theories and compilation videos are so readily available and easy to digest like, comparable to instant meals.

It’s so neatly packaged, too. Like, I was introduced to Larry Stylinson basically yesterday. Now I could recite the storyline in my head whenever I please. Or when I want to please you, in this case.

Let’s see if I can get it all summarized down here. FYI, I’m borrowing your assumption that Taylor was in on it the whole time. And Eleanor, too. Because I actually know of her existence now! Character discovery! Except they’re real people so I feel the need to point out that I’m making all the assumptions all over the place. I’m doing this for you, my dear Delaney.

Keep in mind that we all need character growths and personal developments when I make non-flattering assumptions toward your favorite people here, ok?

First up! HS & TL met in a toilet.

Now it’s debatable whether it was during an X-Factor audition or Battle of the Bands. For the sake’s of my next argument, I’m going with they knew each other before X-Factor. Likely during their time in White Eskimo and The Rogue, respectively. Their (unconfirmed?) first words to each other were ‘Oops!’ & ‘Hi’

Up next, the X-Factor audition and getting put together in a band.

So here is where I kind of needed my first assumption for this to work. Their chemistry was so obviously through the roof. It made so much sense if they were already sort-of friends and then got put together in a band. Plus, I don’t think the way Louis jumped into Harry’s arms is something a relative stranger would do. And if they only knew each other out of everyone there, it’s no wonder they were both so apparently clingy and codependent. It’s like a situation where both of them went ‘I have no idea what’s gonna happen next, but at least I know you and you know me. So we’re bestie now. No take back!”

And then there’re video diaries, twitter cams, radio interviews, and other broadcasting media they appeared in. These need no explanation because you’ve probably seen all of them and I have functioning ears and eyes. So, yes, I saw videos of them being all disgustingly cute all over the place. During the so-called ‘Fetus’ phase (a wording which I personally find rather disturbing, no offense to your anatomy textbooks or anything.) They’re so sweet. Especially whenever there’s a mention of how they moved in and lived together. Their interactions must’ve been responsible for so many tooth cavities. So many aww-worthy moments. On stage, on screen, behind the scenes, potato cams. Basically everywhere in front of everyone.

Then 1D blew up and were well on their way to become their label’s biggest and brightest BCG-metrix star. It’s not hard to see why investors’d be invested (lol) in employing every marketing strategy possible to keep 1D in the spotlight.

There’s a twofold marketing exploitation to Larry Stylinson that I see from miles away.

Hard sell the heteronormative version of the boys. (To capture major market shares)

Never had Harry or Louis explicitly confirm nor deny their relationship status. (To capture additional market shares with queerbaiting)

But let’s say Harry and Louis were actually together and making 1) too difficult to achieve. Otherwise this whole thing falls apart like a wet house of cards.

Thus, here came what I’d like to call ‘dousing a fire with gasoline’. This is where there’s a sudden drop of their interactions in public and Larry Stylinson isn’t a cutesy smashup name of two boys who got along like a house on fire anymore. This is the part where a ship turned into a full fledged conspiracy theory. And it’s MEGA COOL WICKED awesome.

I say this in the nicest way possible. A tragedy is the grandest form of entertainments. Misery loves having friends.

Also, I’d like to say this. I’m having fun thinking of this as a fictional arc. Because I still feel like it will shatter my heart in to a million pieces if anything resembling what I write next was true.

Since breaking into US market was the Kickstarter into a global one, to the US 1D went.

This was where the heavy closeting got way more difficult to handle. Elounor had the excuse of Eleanor being a private citizen and therefore should be left alone for the most part. Haylor was the complete opposite. Taylor Swift was and still is an American Sweetheart. Harry Styles might have been the most famous British Harry if it weren’t for a (former?) prince and a wizard. (Seriously, we should not call any of our hypothetical future children ‘Harry’ unless you thought ‘Albus Severus Potter’ was a good idea. Poor kiddo.)

The saddest part about Harry Styles public image was how reminiscent of Emma Watson it felt. The minute they turned eighteen, their media portrayals immediately became hyper-sexualized. Suddenly, they left the human zoo into an open hunting game. Famous lives are terrifying.

Anyhow, say, Taylor Swift knew what the US music industry was like. She’s been playing the long game for quite some time. She got to know Harry and then became rather protective of him. Her conclusion was that ‘hyping up Haylor’ would: 1) increase media exposure for both Taylor and 1D which would translate to bigger channels of revenue for all involved, 2) hold the speculation about Harry’s sexual orientation at bay because, as horrible as it sounds, gays don’t sell in America.

This one fit nicely with your ‘Out of the Woods’ interpretation. Taylor wasn’t just spending time with Harry. She was actively enforcing the lock on the closet. Which explains why Louis seemed to resent Taylor quite obviously and quite a lot. His own heteronormative scripts with Eleanor had been relatively tame. Harry’s whirlwind series of romances in public had only just begun.

As Harry started gaining a womanizer reputation in earnest, so did the Almost-Subtle Couple Tattoo Sprees.

If ‘Always in my heart @Harry_Styles . Yours sincerely, Louis’ tweet was a sign that circumstances were about to go south for them. The tattoos were signs that the circumstances had already gone to shit. The tragic package had been shipped, signed, and delivered.

This is where non-flattering assumptions rise to the surface. I think 1D had been overworked past the point of exhaustion. Self-destruction as a coping mechanism became rather prevalent and pervasive within the band. The boys gleefully collected regrets as a new favorite pastime, some more than others. Consequences were nipping at their heels.

Then Zayn left right in the middle of a world tour and all hell broke loose.

Here comes the biggest Assumption Affair!

Louis and Liam, the last to release their solo debut albums, were the most prominent songwriters for the band. I’m not going to go on about Liam because I’m here to give you Larry Stylinson. And this is already way too long as it is. But, needless to say, the first discussion of a prospective solo career probably hit them the hardest.

If each song they wrote was a battle scar, Louis was still bleeding for the band when Harry, of all people, brought up the idea of a hiatus and solo careers. Realizing how many songs Harry already had waiting in the back catalogue must’ve felt like a slap in the face. Or a punch in the gut. Whichever you think is worse/more dramatic. I’m not picky.

Remember self-destruction as coping mechanism? What about relationship-destruction as coping mechanism? Louis cheated and had a baby with someone else. Infidelity at its finest.

ALERT! THIS IS A NEON SIGN OF ASSUMPTION AFFAIR! Please don’t kill me. I told you I was gonna make unflattering assumptions toward your favorite people. I just did as I promised!!! *run for cover*

Anyway...

I’m gonna take you back a little. I mentioned earlier how Eleanor was a private citizen and therefore should be left alone. At times when Louis desperately needed to be left alone, Elounor makes so much sense. If she’s a PR-only girlfriend, she’s a stellar employee. If it’s not just a PR thing, she’s as forgiving as a saint. Just, if it’s Harry and Louis, they likely both messed up and hurt each other badly. If it’s Louis and Eleanor,... I mean... Have you seen a meme where you misspell a word so badly that the autocorrect goes, ‘I don’t know what to tell you, man’?... Louis would be that misspelled word and Eleanor would be the very best autocorrect that practically brute force through every word in the Oxford AND Urban dictionary to find out what that word was. If that’s who she is, then bless her soul. However, for the sake of this argument, we will proceed with the assumption that she’s the star employee of the decade.

Losing loved ones and grieving for them are inevitable parts of human lives. Nothing put more things into perspectives than losing someone so fundamentally dear to you. When I heard Louis Tomlinson’s ‘Two of Us’ for the first time, I remembered walking through an actual forest my grandpa planted for us because he wanted to make sure his great grandkids would have a nice home to grow up in. Do you remember when you called and told me that he died the night I got on my first solo international flight ten months after the fact? I wanted to hate you for keeping something this big a secret from me. I wanted to hate everybody at home for that. But then you told me that it was what my grandpa had wanted. That he didn’t want me to be a sad sack of an exchange student. That you decided to not listen to my parents and call to tell me just before I was due home. So that I’d have time to feel hurt about being lied to. So that I could get all the angry words out. So that I wouldn’t scream at my parents when I got home and learnt the truth. So that you could take the brunt of my grief instead.

I just took a break to have a little cry. Where was I? Oh, yeah. You did the best you could for me when I lost my grandpa. I still managed to effectively shut you out for months. Just because you were the messenger of the bad news. What I’m trying to say is that grief changes people. It changed me. For the worst for a bit. And then for the better once I came to term with what it means to me. There’s a quote from Rosamund Lupton that sums it up neatly.

“Grief is love turned into an eternal missing.”

I guess this is the part where I connected the dots back to Harry and Louis. Well, their music definitely give grief different names. Both albums talk about coming to term with it and moving forward. Every songs they wrote could be woven to fit the narrative of Larry Stylinson and events surrounding them. If you buy the theory, then the good news is both Fine Line & Walls seemed to have a positive ending. One thing I know for sure, though, is that no matter how convincing a conspiracy theory maybe, it could all be built upon a faulty assumption. I’d probably have a way easier time disregarding Elouner if I didn’t have you as a solid proof in my life that, yes, people like the best autocorrect exists. It’s funny how I feel no hesitation at all in categorizing Haylor as a calculated move. Because in my head that’s just par for the course in business. And it genuinely terrifies me in a way. Who the hell I could’ve become if it weren’t for you knocking me off the ground and pouring kindness on me.

I know I skipped a lot of stuff. Missing names like Caroline, Danielle, Kendall, Freddie, Camille, Xander, etc. But HS and LT have a decade of history on public record and, frankly, my interest ran out four paragraphs ago. So just let me conclude this.

I think it’s tiring, spending this much time speculating on someone else’s relationship history. I must admit that I had to get it out of my chest because it was way too interesting to let go off. But now, I feel like I’m just going to stream Heartbreak Weather and listen to ‘No Judgement’ on repeat. Nile is my favorite non-problematic celebrity. I could spell his name so wrong and it probably won’t be an issue as long as I politely say, “Sorry, Mr Niall Horan”

This quarantine clearly leaves me with too much time on my hands.

Virtual hugs and kisses

Your Incredible Sasha 😘

#larry stylinson #haylor #elounor #aimh theory #larry #i hope you like this #in this essay i will...

51 notes · View notes

waritawrites · 3 years

Text

Tales from the Hood: Rhodie (black elitists) or Duke Metger (Biden) - Who was the Bigger Threat to Black People?

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2021/05/05/tales-from-the-hood-rhodie-black-elitists-or-duke-metger-biden-who-was-the-bigger-threat-to-black-people/

#Prolife #LABlackAdvocatesforLife #LouisianaBlackAdvocatesforLife #BlackGenocide #AbortionIsEugenics #PlannedParenthoodIsElitist #Elitism

#ElitismIsHomicidal #LouisianaRightToLife #PlannedParenthoodPredators #PlannedParenthoodOwesReparations #Reparations

In Rusty Condieff's 1995 horror movie Tales from the Hood, there is a story called KKK Comeuppance which starred Corbin Bersen as senator and former KKK member Duke Metger and Roger Guenver Smith as his Public Relations consultant Rhodie (a black elitist) who are working to get Duke elected as governor. Duke faces great opposition because of his past membership with the Ku Klux Klan and AND his choice of the location of his campaign headquarters - his grandfather's old plantation. His grandfather murdered his slaves were upon finding out slavery in the south had been legally ended. There is an old legend that says that a former slave woman used witchcraft to capture their souls and place them in the bodies of dolls. The dolls would periodically come to life and their leader was the woman's husband who had been killed. A mural of the woman and her dolls was located Duke's office.

Alone, Duke was an unlikeable, arrogant, person. Yet, with the help of Rhodie, his appeal grew which made him a serious contender in the governor's race. When looking at today's political scene, one would easily say that Trump was like Duke Metger - when looking from a superficial perspective. A SUPERFICIAL PERSPECTIVE. He wasn't the most tactful. He was blunt. Some, DEFINITELY NOT ALL, of Trump's were white supremacists (some were also white "liberals" pretending to be stereotypical white conservative Trump supporters) and those who weren't white were anti-black, some of which were black. Yes, there are anti-black black people. One such character in Tales from The Hood was Rhodie. Rhodie seemed to represent a stereotypical black republican. He seems like the type of anti-black, self-hating black person who would pretend to "help" the black people improve their community by getting rid of as many Black people as possible using:

- Forget GOD and uphold multicultural, pagan ideals instead

- Abortion

- Euthanasia (gotta maintain that quality of life)

- Normalization of promiscuity

- Normalization of destructive alternative lifestyles

- The stigmatizing of traditional marriage and family

-The normalization of addiction and substance abuse, such as recreationally smoking heroin

Columbia professor: I do heroin regularly for ‘work-life balance’

https://nypost.com/2021/02/19/columbia-prof-i-snort-heroin-regularly-for-work-life-balance/

https://twitter.com/Joy_Villa/status/1363557914351403016?s=20

People who promote such self-destructive behaviors as normal or even inherently black are an enemy! They are an enemy of mankind, no matter how progressive that they think such behaviors are. Indeed, progressivism, like evolution, is an oxymoron because you don't gain anything biologically nor socially. Things regress to its most basic form. Though, a progressive such as a eugenicist might would tell you, "progressive for the purpose of efficiency - less means more." More for them, more resources for them in their quest to reign supreme in the survival of the fittest, or their horrible misinterpretation of term. Yet, we don't see the promotion of such self-destructive behavior coming from Black Republicans, Conservatives, and Independents. We see the encouragement of black self-destruction coming from Black Democrats

Most Democrat Legislators Champion Margaret Sanger’s Racist Genocide Mission – Are They Counter-representing You?

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2019/05/16/most-democrat-legislators-champion-margaret-sangers-racist-genocide-mission-are-they-counter-representing-you/

Liberals, and some (especially paid) Social Justice activists as well as your various dose-of-distraction-from-news-and-entertainment-attractions.

Black Agents of White Supremacy in the Media endorse racist Joe Biden

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2020/03/04/black-agents-of-white-supremacy-in-the-media-endorse-racist-joe-biden/

Support of the Super Predators: White Supremacists in Liberal Disguise and the Mainstream Media that promotes them

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2020/02/17/support-of-the-super-predators-white-supremacists-in-liberal-disguise-and-the-mainstream-media-that-promotes-them/

Joe Biden & his supporters on Joe's racist association with the klansmen sound a lot like Duke Metger & Rhodie in Tales from the

Hood @ 0:56:22 mins

"We all have a past, now don't we?"

"We all, have a past. Its a better man who can learn from his failures. I know that I have learned from mine and I'm better for it."

Duke Metger & Rhodie in Tales from the Hood, https://youtu.be/5vxHfr3DLKg

Margaret Sanger also used black elitists to carry out her plan for eugenics by way of birth control.

Planned Parenthood has stalked and misinformed Black people, particularly Black people experiencing poverty as well as uneducated Black people about the personhood of an unborn child. However, Black Democrats, Liberals, and some (especially paid) Social Justice activists such as Black Lives Matter:

BLM to Biden & Harris: We want something for our vote

https://www.theblaze.com/news/black-lives-matter-leader-to-biden-and-harris-we-want-something-for-our-vote

- BLM got in the way with their grifting and clout-seeking.

Michael Brown’s father, Ferguson activists demand $20M from BLM

By Kenneth Garger

https://nypost.com/2021/03/03/michael-browns-father-ferguson-activists-demand-20m-from-blm/amp/?__twitter_impression=true

Where is the $90 million dollars collected by BLM? Michael Brown’s father, Ferguson activists demand $20M from BLM

https://twitter.com/TheFabulousRee/status/1371965130578268160?s=20

Shaun King attempted to discredit Samaria Rice when she spoke against the political exploitation of racism and police brutality done by pseudo-social activists, celebrities, and politicians. Shaun King stated that she was not thinking the way that liberal white "woke" supremacy wants her to think. She isn't sticking with their destructive narrative and agenda for Black people. They're redlining us into feeling that we can't be self-reliant! Meanwhile, Closet Capitalist Anarchists ease into the neighbohoods they help to destroy to start businesses, buy real estate for commercial and residential purposes;etc. #UnfollowShaunKing

"I read Shaun King’s piece about Samaria Rice’s critical social media comments and this is some of the most patronizing ugly sh-t I’ve ever seen"

https://twitter.com/ztsamudzi/status/1371882450763329536?s=20

BLM destroyed a beautiful,civilized movement as well as communities. It could have been a beautiful,civilized movement yet they ruined it w/buffoonery such as twerking for Martin Luther King, Jr Day and WAP stupidity

Joe Biden's non-response reminds me of this scene from Tales from The Hood:

Duke Metger in Tales from the Hood, "No Reparations!" https://youtu.be/7vjwA1IkIRk

and Black ministers

Apostate False Preachers for Feticide and Infanticide: Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2020/03/11/apostate-false-preachers-for-feticide-and-infanticide-jesse-jackson-and-al-sharpton/

have been its main proponents and propagandists since the early 1900's when it was known as the American Birth Control League. To appeal to Black people, Sanger said:

The Use of Ministers for The Negro Project in a 1939 letter to Dr. C.J. Gamble:

"The ministers work is also important and he should be trained, perhaps by the Federation as to our ideals and the goal that we hope to reach. We do not want word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population and the minister is the man who can straighten out that idea if it ever occurs to any of their more rebellious members."

In Birth Control and the Negro, Sanger talked about the value of the influence of black ministers:

“The project would hire three or four ‘colored Ministers, preferably with social-service backgrounds, and with engaging personalities’ to travel throughout the South and propagandize for birth control, since ‘the most successful educational approach to the Negro is through religious appeal” (as cited in Gordon, 2007, p. 235).

Dr. Albert Lasker, Sanger (1939) stated, "If we could get the Negro Universities and the Negro medical groups behind this project it will go over really big I think, especially if there is a little money to give to those for time spent and for supplies in their clinics."(para. 3)

One of her biggest propagandists was W.E.B. DuBois (See: Negroes and Birth Control, https://libex.smith.edu/omeka/files/original/16e5b6a56c2c4aedb3274e7124f3006e.jpg)

W.E.B. DuBois (1939) stated:

“Among the more intelligent class, was a postponement of marriage, which greatly decreased the number of children. Today, among this class of Negroes few men marry before thirty, and numbers of them after forty. The marriage of women of this class has similarly been postponed.

In addition to this, the low incomes which Negroes receive make bachelorhood and spinsterhood widespread, with the naturally resultant lowering, in some cases, of sex standards. On the other hand, the mass of ignorant Negroes still breed carelessly and disastrously, so that the increase among Negroes, even more than whites, is from that part of the population least intelligent and fit, and least able to rear their children properly.” (para. 4 and para.5).

Joe Biden has more in common with Duke over the course of his career than does Trump. Here are the facts listed in my article, Joe Biden has built his career by FIGHTING AGAINST EQUITY and EQUALITY, https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2021/01/22/joe-biden-has-built-his-career-by-fighting-against-equity-and-equality/ :

"Joe used the drug epidemic to target Blacks and poor people to serve longer sentences for trafficking by promoting proganda that crack is more lethal than cocaine. Blacks and poor people could afford crack for distribution and sell because it was less expensive than cocaine which Biden gave lesser sentencing. This occurred during the time the number privatized prisons began to increase. These were for-profit prisons. This first company to take over a prison was Core Civic in 1984. Civic Core took over a Shelby County, Tennessee prison.

Vox.com's German Lopez https://www.vox.com/2015/8/26/9208983/joe-biden-black-lives-matter shares Jamelle Bouie's list at Slate.com https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2015/08/joe-biden-presidential-run-why-its-a-bad-idea.html:

"Comprehensive Control Act: This 1984 law, spearheaded by Biden and Sen. Strom Thurmond (R-SC), expanded drug trafficking penalties and federal "civil asset forfeiture," which allows police to seize and absorb someone's property — whether cash, cars, guns, or something else — without proving the person is guilty of a crime. Under the federal Equitable Sharing program, local and state police get up to 80 percent of the value of what they seize as funds for their departments, which critics say creates a for-profit incentive to take people's stuff.

Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986: This law, sponsored and partly written by Biden, ratcheted up penalties for drug crimes. It also created a big sentencing disparity between crack and powder cocaine — even though both drugs are pharmacologically similar, the law made it so someone would need to possess 100 times the amount of powder cocaine to be eligible for the same mandatory minimum sentence for crack. Since crack is more commonly used by black Americans, this sentencing disparity helped fuel the disproportionate rates of imprisonment among black communities.

Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1988: This law, co-sponsored by Biden, strengthened prison sentences for drug possession, enhanced penalties for transporting drugs, and established the Office of National Drug Control Policy, which coordinates and leads federal anti-drug efforts.

Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act: This 1994 law, partly written by Biden and signed by President Bill Clinton, imposed tougher sentences (including some mandatory minimums) and increased funding for prisons, fostering the explosive growth of the US prison population from the 1990s through the 2000s — a trend that's only begun to reverse in the past few years. Since black Americans are disproportionately likely to be incarcerated, the law helped contribute to the mass incarceration of black Americans in particular. But the law also included all sorts of other measures, including the Violence Against Women Act that helped crack down on domestic violence and rape, a 10-year ban on assault weapons, funding for firearm background checks, and grant programs for local and state police.

The RAVE Act: This 2003 law built on the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986 to impose civil penalties on businesses that knowingly lease, rent, use, or profit from a space where illicit drugs are being stored, manufactured, distributed, or used. The idea was to go after raves in which drugs are widely used. But the law has been widely criticized for making rave organizers so paranoid about anti-drug crackdowns that they stopped doing anything that would implicate them in drug use, including providing medical or educational services for drug users."

Interesting that Joe and Strom Thurmond partnered to write the 1984 Comprehensive Control Act during the same time period that Core Civic took over a facility in Tennessee. The increase in the number of privatized coincided with Biden's focus on creating crime bill's. To sell his 1994 Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act #1994CrimeBill, Biden's rhetoric was "Lock the S.O.B.'s Up" to further vilify the poor and other disenfranchised people to justify mass incarceration.

-'Lock the S.O.B.s Up’: Joe Biden and the Era of Mass Incarceration

He now plays down his role overhauling crime laws with segregationist senators in the ’80s and ’90s. That portrayal today is at odds with his actions and rhetoric back then.

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/25/us/joe-biden-crime-laws.html#click=https://t.co/7ck1J9966W

His magnum opus was his 1993 Predators Beyond the Pale Speech

-Joe Biden Warns Of "Predators On Our Streets" Who Were "Beyond The Pale" In 1993 Crime Speech

https://youtu.be/7oDHSt-CKtc

- Joe Biden wrote the Clinton approved Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act:

Bill Clinton's crime bill destroyed lives, and there's no point denying it

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/apr/15/bill-clinton-crime-bill-hillary-black-lives-thomas-frank "

In addition to creating legislation that racially profiles minorities into a system of for-profit mass incarceration, he has also been a loyal supporter of planned parenthood.

Current Planned Parenthood CEO Alexis McGill Johnson says:

"Margaret Sanger’s beliefs caused irreparable damage to the lives and health of generations of Black people, Latino people, Indigenous people, immigrants, people with disabilities, people with low incomes, and many others." Read more from

@alexismcgill

: https://p.ppfa.org/3x3N29f

https://twitter.com/PPFA/status/1383827872628953094?s=20

I’m the Head of Planned Parenthood. We’re Done Making Excuses for Our Founder

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/04/17/opinion/planned-parenthood-margaret-sanger.html?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=tweet&utm_campaign=healthtwitter&utm_content=nyt2-april21

Despite McGill-Johnson's statement of the racist activities of planned parenthood as well as Kamala Harris' expression of fear of Joe Biden's praise of the known white supremacists of whom he has shown reverence:

What bothered Kamala about Joe? Interview with Kamala Harris on the campaign trail - Face the Nation

11:35 mins: “Praising and coddling individuals who made it their life work and built their reputation off of segregation of the races in the United States........I would not be a member of the United States senate if those men he praised had their way."

What bothered Kamala about Joe?

https://youtu.be/xMqp7A-O0HE?t=695

Let's talk about Joe Biden - 10:53 mins

https://youtu.be/xMqp7A-O0HE?t=653

this year he has still allowed the government to give over 400 million dollars to continue to decimate the Black community.

Joe Biden Gives Abortion Industry $467.8 Billion, 19 Times More Tax Money Than Obama

https://www.lifenews.com/2021/04/29/joe-biden-gives-abortion-industry-467-8-billion-19-times-more-money-than-obama/

https://twitter.com/StevenErtelt/status/1388694739512348674?s=20

Black people make up 13% of the population and Black women only represent 6% of the total population yet account for 36.9% of the nation’s abortions whereas white women account for 36% of the nation’s abortions however white people are 76% of the nation’s population. (Jatlaoui TC, Boutot ME, Mandel MG, et al, 2015).

Jatlaoui TC, Boutot ME, Mandel MG, et al. Abortion Surveillance — United States, 2015. MMWR Surveill Summ 2018;67(No. SS-13):1–45. DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.15585/mmwr.ss6713a1

Regarding the near extinction of the Black population in America due to abortion, Nyhiem Way El stated to reparations group American Descendants of Slaves,

https://www.facebook.com/groups/ados101/permalink/296772141208488/?sfnsn=mo,:

"- Based on the January 2018 estimate that there have been 60 million abortions in the United States since 1973,20 we can deduce that well over 18 million of them were performed on black babies.

- As of July 2017, the black population in the U.S. stood somewhere around 40 million, which means that abortion has reduced the size of the black community by more than 30%—and that doesn't include the children and grandchildren that would have been born to those aborted more than a generation ago.'

Abort73.(n.d.). Abortion and Race. Retrieved from https://abort73.com/abortion/abortion_and_race/

Essentially, this is a 50% halt in population growth if you look at the children and grandchildren who would've been born since 1973 of the aborted. (Way El, 2019)

**As of July 2017, the black population in the U.S. stood somewhere around 40 million, meaning abortion has reduced the size of the black community over 30% and doesn't including potential children and grandchildren born to those aborted a generation ago

https://abort73.com/abortion/abortion_and_race/"

Planned Parenthood owes reparations to Black people, Hispanics, those living in poverty, women, AND fathers who wanted their children that were aborted.

GOD hates the Oppression of the Disenfranchised: Proverbs 30:14 & Jeremiah 34:8 - 22

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2021/04/17/god-hates-the-oppression-of-the-disenfranchised-proverbs-3014-jeremiah-348-22/

Proverbs 30:14

“There is a generation, whose teeth are as swords, and their jaw teeth as knives, to devour the poor from off the earth, and the needy from among men.”

Hypocrisy of Joe Biden: A Legacy of Self-Entitlement and Oppression against the Disenfranchised

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2020/01/08/hypocrisy-of-joe-biden-a-legacy-of-self-entitlement-and-oppression-against-the-disenfranchised/

Biden's overall opinion of Black people continues to be low,especially of those who would vote for him. In August 2020, Biden stated at a meeting with Latino voters:

"By the way, what you all know, but most people don’t, unlike the African American community, with notable exceptions, the Latino community is an incredibly diverse community with incredibly different attitudes about different things.”

—#JoeBiden 8/6/2020 https://youtu.be/f4lXYR0su-8

I'm glad that I'm a notable exception - I didn't vote for him.

I will never support the removal of GOD being THE GUIDE of America, abortion

Scriptures Against Abortion and Child Abuse

https://followerofthewayforever.wordpress.com/2020/03/12/scriptures-against-abortion-and-child-abuse/

HURTING CHILDREN BRINGS ON THE WRATH OF GOD

Matthew 18:5-6,10

5 And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.

6 But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea

10 Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven

the destruction of traditional marriage and family, the destruction of traditional gender roles,eugenics, population control,euthanasia, and government and corporate hoarding rationing for totalitarian purposes disguised as environmentalism and sustainability.

Reference

Way El, N.(2019,May 16).Predatory Abortion Industry causes 50% halt in black population growth

https://www.facebook.com/groups/ados101/permalink/296772141208488/?sfnsn=mo

Du Bois, W.E.B.(1939, April). Negroes and Birth Control. Smith

https://libex.smith.edu/omeka/files/original/16e5b6a56c2c4aedb3274e7124f3006e.jpg

Sanger,M.(1939).Letter from Margaret Sanger to Dr. C.J. Gamble December 10,1939. Smith Libraries Exhibit, Accessed January 10, 2019, Retrieved from https://libex.smith.edu/omeka/files/original/d6358bc3053c93183295bf2df1c0c931.pdf

Gordon,L.(2007). Birth Control and the Negro. In The Moral Property of Women, p.235. Urbana; Chicago: University of Illiniois Press.

Sanger,M.(1939).Letter from Margaret Sanger to Dr. Albert Lasker November 12,1939. Smith Libraries Exhibit, Accessed January 11, 2019, Retrieved from https://libex.smith.edu/omeka/files/original/087da25e33426c0e81b01eebcdcc079d.jpg

#population control #eugenics #joe biden #racial profiling #prolife #alexis mcgill johnson #abortion #GOD #Jesus #Holy Spirit #Planned Parenthood #Planned Parenthood Owes Reparations #Reparations

1 note · View note

starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs “Action Without Order.”

Here is a story to answer a couple of plot questions and requests you guys have been giving me. I hope you like it :). If you have any questions , or ideas feel free to ask!

This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all. Captain Vir Stood facing them, as the two Military MPs pulled his hands behind his back locking the energy cuffs around his wrists. Krill stepped in to stop Sunny as she took a step forward eyes wide with confusion and worry.

From where he stood flanked by two massive MPs, the Captain lifted his head, “It’ll be alright, Sunny, Krill, this is just a mistake….. It will be alright.” Despite the reassuring smile on his face, his single eye was wide with worry, the usually blushed human skin of his face had turned white. Though he did not struggle against the arms that held him, he did struggle against something more internal.

“What are the charges?” Sunny demanded. Looking up, the two MPs stared at her in immense distrust and readiness, “I said, what are the charges?” She demanded her looming height casting a shadow. “Don’t you humans have laws for this sort of thing!”

“Sunny, calm down, let them speak.” He turned to look at the MPs who had gone from wary to calm and collected.

“Adam Vir, Captain in the USPC Space Corpse, you are hereby charged with the unlawful divulgence of state secrets, the harboring of non-military personnel aboard a military ship, action without order, and the harboring of an enemy agent. Your court martial trial will be held in one month’s time to refute this counts before UN representatives and Military council. Your rights, if you do not know them will be read to you at your request.”

“I know my rights”, Vir whispered before looking to Sunny and Krill, “Contact the crew, tell them what’s going on. I’m going to need them, and don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. Keep your heads, and don’t get into any trouble. Follow the signs back to the LA Interplanetary terminal and show them your passes that will get you back to the moon. You can call the rest of the crew from there. Please stay safe.” They were dragging him off now pulling him in increments to the armored vehicle parked off to the side hovering with its glowing blue power source underneath.

Sunny stepped forward again, and Krill stopped her again, “No Sunny, You’ll only make it worse.”

Captain Vir was pushed into the back of the truck sitting down with his hands cuffed behind his back. He looked up from where he was sitting, the smile had dropped from his face.

***

The sky above the Martian desert was a misty grey blue. Despite its similarity to earth, it had never lost its more grey than blue horizon. The cities were built upon gravity mats, a task implemented by earth after studying the negative effects upon humans living on a planet with only 38% gravity. Maybe you can terraform, change the atmosphere, but you cannot change an entire planet’s gravity.

Krill had been staring out the window of the courtroom until this point. It was a marvelous affair of human engineering specifically designed to intimidate the people who stood on the floor. The viewing gallery sat just behind the desks rising up a good seven or eight rows. At the very front of the room, a massive semi-circular desk took up almost a third of the room framed by the equally massive set of windows looing out on a Martian horizon.

The room was almost full. Many crew members sat in the gallery while Krill and Sunny had been urged to sit as witnesses for the defense. At the head of the room, the semicircle desk was filled to the brim with generals, admirals, commanders, and delegated members of the UN. Sunny shifted in her seat as half of the room collectively glowered at her form the stand.

A lot of these men had been part of the battle with the Drev, and some of them had been part of operation Steel Eye, there was a lot of anger in this room. Additionally, members of the Galactic Assembly were there, and upon seeing Sunny they had gone very stiff and very silent staring at her with fear in their eyes, fear that Sunny had come to loathe.

It was ten that Captain Vir was escorted into the room. He was wearing his uniform dressed up to the nines, the uninform that includes all the ribbons, bars, captains cap, and a tie, it was dark grey in color.

He looked up at them encouragingly from where he stood. Sunny did a double take when she saw his face: the eyepatch was gone replaced by a complete and working eye. Form this distance it almost looked real despite for an odd mechanical shimmer over the iris. Though it looked normal, the captain kept blinking and rubbing at the eye with a horribly uncomfortable look on his face. Tears shimmered on the face of the mechanical eye. Sunny shifted nervously in her seat. He had never traded his eye patch for an eye….. she was beginning to understand just how serious things were shaping up to be.

Krill and Sunny sat through the early portion of the hearing fidgeting and sickened as the groundwork was laid before them. Human politics became clear and evident within the first few minutes. Sunny was stunned and shocked to hear the things the other humans were saying, the things they had said behind the captain’s back. She had always assumed that the humans were relatively open and free with each other, helpful and supportive…. But…. But this was something else.

They told a story about a man who looked for every opportunity to go rogue from the army, to disobey orders, and start unauthorized contact with alien races. Because of hi humans were being given a bad rap all over the galaxy. Galactic laws were based primarily on him and his crew all against USPC orders. Not only that, but he had two unauthorized aliens aboard his ship who were unregistered in the USPC, and were likely privy to classified military information which, by itself, was enough to send him to a class B penal colony for the rest of the foreseeable future. This was only made worse by the fact he had allowed an alien raced deemed public enemy number 1 aboard his ship.

A fight broke out in the gallery upon this revelation, and a group of marines had to be dragged from the room yelling and screaming about the unfairness of it all. Captain Vir remained absolutely silent during the entire think looking on in worry for his marines as they were carted away.

“Captain Vir, how do you plea.”

He straightened himself up and took a deep breath, “Not guilty, Sir.” Up on the stand the group of officers sat back in their chairs. Some seemed angry, others worried, the Galactic assembly members were absolutely baffled but not at the Captain, instead towards behavior of the other humans.

Next to the Captain, another man in similar uniform took to the floor beginning an eloquent speech on behalf of the captain which lasted for many minutes minutely detailing the truth of these matters, “If you look at his spotless military record, you would know that Captain Vir has never done anything that was contrary to the needs of earth. During first contact with the galactic assembly he was essential in the continuance of peaceful negotiations during a tense encounter, after these incidents, he almost gave his life in service during the Drev War, and received a purple heart and a bronze star for his bravery. Even after all of that, he returned to the USPC to continue aiding his planet, and was rewarded, by members of this council I might add, with a ship of his own. Additionally, I am here to remind the court that his original instructions were to and I quote ‘Foster feelings of good report between the human race and members of the galactic alliance’, as such, he is, in times of need, authorized to act on behalf of the Galactic Assembly.” The lawyer paused for a moment looking around the room, “This means that the USPC gave up right to complete control over the captain and his crew, who have saved countless planets, species, and his own crew from destruction, invasion, sickness, and poor diplomatic relations. The laws the galactic assembly have put into place have done nothing but foster good will between our two groups, and ensured the safety of humans. All loss of life detailed in the captain’s exploits have been a direct result of self-defense, or the defense of children. These facts alone clearly refute the charge of action without order”

“As for the aliens, I would have Krill of the Vrul take the stand.”

Sunny watched with pent up breath as krill scuttled onto the stand openly an aggressively examined and cross examined before the group of humans. He never showed confusion or worry, always stating the facts, always perfectly honest. When asked about the divulgence of state secrets he openly said that he had never been privy to the military Intel of the captain as a medic aboard the ship. In fact, all the information he had could be found on the open crew database of the bridge computers, which anyone of any rank could access. When asked on how he was picked up for the crew he responded with a story about fixing the captain’s damaged eye after an unfortunate accident, and the crew’s need for a well-versed medic this far out in space with knowledge of alien diseases and pathologies.

“As it seems to me, anyone intent on fostering good will between humans and the galactic community would be wise to allow non-humans aboard his ship especially one with extensive medical knowledge Furthermore allegations of divulging state secrets was immediately refuted, There was no proof the captain had let anything slip that had not previously been declassified. All information Krill had was public knowledge to anyone with access to crew computers, and this included civilian analysts between docking and voyages.

There were no official rulings set in place as to the harboring of aliens aboard a ship other than the arbitrary ones command had come up with in response to the Drev threat they were so intimidated by.

Sunny was called to the stand next and nervously made her way up sitting down in the small, human sized seat in front of all those watching eyes.

“State your name for the court.”

“Sunny…..”

“Just Sunny?”

“Yes, the Drev only have one name, unless you wish for my military title… Squadron leader Sunny.”

“And you fought during the Drev war?”

She nodded, she wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t know how to lie, and she had a feeling that any attempt would only make things worse, so she lowered her head, “Yes, I did.”

“And during the war, did you hurt humans.”

She shuffled in her seat, “Yes….”

“How many.” The lawyer demanded eyeing her with his distinctly predatory eyes

“Hundreds…. I cannot be sure how many.” The room shifted uncomfortably, and she had trouble looking towards captain Vir, she felt so helpless, she wasn’t good with words, she couldn’t help him like he needed.

“Do you remember any of those humans that you killed, that you hurt?”

“Objection your honor!” Cried he defense lawyer glowering at the wolfish human as he grinned on with a malicious sneer.

A hand was raised, “Let him speak.”

“Yes…. I remember them…..” She shad softly ringing two sets of her hands together. She didn’t remember picking that up from the humans

“Do you know any by name?”

“Yes.” She sunk further into her chair

The layer seemed surprised, but he continued on with a shrug, “Who?”

…., “Adam Vir.”

There was a gasp about the courtroom, as the groups stared on in shock and disbelief at her as she looked down at her hands. The voices rose for a long moment before something hard and loud was slammed against the counter, “SILENCE!” It died down.

“How did you hurt him?” The man wondered.

Sunny hunched further into her seat, “I…. I tore off his leg.” The court room was dead silent now as the humans looked on in horror and confusion.

The grinning, wolfish layer turned to the judge, “As you can see, Sir. A killer, no man in his right mind would let the creature that tore his leg apart aboard his ship. If anything this calls his sanity into question, and at worst it calls into question his loyalty.”

“Objection your honor!”

“Go on.”

“This act proves nothing about honor, or loyalty. This proves a man who has an amazing capacity to forgive. As I have been told, Sunny approached Captain Vir seeking forgiveness and a desire to learn from the humans. He did not bring her on board with full trust, and spent months as we are now, skeptical, but she has proven her loyalty, has visited earth, and not once in that time has she caused injury. I must hereby remind the court that this is not a trial for the Drev. Humans have warred with each other for centuries, we make war personal, but the Drev do not. Like the south and the north, Europe and America, the allies and the axis, we have fought and we can forgive. The prosecution has no proof my client has divulged state secrets, harbored unlawful passengers, or acted without order.”

The room rumbled again.

The prosecutor was smiling, Sunny didn’t like that smile, “Isn’t it true, that the Drev are not members of the Galactic Assembly.”

A horrible silence.

The grin on the face of the prosecutor grew larger, “If anything, by your own logic this Drev’s presence aboard the ship is NOT to ‘foster good will in the galactic community’ she is, in fact, ostracized from the community, proving that the captain acted in his own self-interest, and against the outstanding orders of the USPC and the galactic assembly. This Drev does not belong aboard a Galactic Assembly or USPC ship especially not without express acceptance from either organization.”

Captain Vir went white, the court room erupted, and the defense lawyer demanded an immediate recess. He was granted his request and Sunny was hurried from the stand in shock and horror. She wanted to scream, to rip something apart. She watched as the captain was hurried away both real and fake eye wide with worry and sickness. She milled with the others for a good half hour huddled with the marines, and the flight crew all looking on in horror.

Then the court was called back into session, and the two men came walking back into the room. They were sparingly calm for the situation standing behind their desk. Sunny sat nervously expecting a horrible verdict, but she was immediately called back to the stand. In confusion, she went back up.

The defense attorney stood, “Sunny, are the Drev tribal?”

“Um… yes, I suppose in human terms, we are.”

“And you often war with one another for power?”

“Yes, very often, sometimes for power, status, or resources.”

“Do you ever integrate a member of another clan into your own?” The man wondered. To the side the other lawyer was looking on in suspicion. He didn’t know where this was going.

“Yes, sometimes.”

“How is this done?”

“A gift is usually offered, one to make the person one with the tribe. When they wear it, they are immediately adopted into our lineages, they have full rights in our clan and government. They may duel upon request, and can become reconciler if they so wish.”

The man then turned to the judge, “And you know the ruling of Dawson V Cybercorp?”

The judge furrowed his eyebrows, “The case that ruled body modifications, implantations, and prosthetics were considered part of a person, and if tampered with constituted as assault rather than property damage?”

A smile, “In that case.” He turned looking at the captain, who, stepped forward onto the floor. Placed his foot on a nearby chair, and pulled up the pant leg on his uniform.

The light that cut through the room was bright blue and metallic. It hand an unusually inhuman set of joints, and Sunny recognized it immediately.

He was wearing the prosthetic.

“In accordance with Dawson V Cybercorp and the traditions of the Drev tribal law. That leg is part of Captain Vir, it includes armor taken From Sunny’s own person. This was a gift to him from Sunny to integrate him into her tribe. Therefor as a member of the Drev, that means that the Drev, or Sunny’s tribe is part of the Galactic Assembly by default.”

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #earth is space australia #humans are space australians

2K notes · View notes

ingek73 · 3 years

Text

01-22-2112:00 PM

‘Time is running out’: Prince Harry calls for social media reform after U.S. Capitol riot

In a Q&A with Fast Company, The Duke of Sussex responds to social media’s role in the Capitol attack and explains why the next step must be to hold social platforms accountable.

[Photo: Samir Hussein/WireImage/Getty Images]

BY KATHARINE SCHWAB

LONG READ

Over the past year, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, The Duke and Duchess of Sussex, have become increasingly outspoken advocates for healthier social media—a topic that is clearly near to their hearts, given the horrendous vitriol and harassment they have faced online and in the press.

By partnering with organizations that aim to understand technology’s impact on society and vocally critiquing the state of online life in the media, the couple are using their clout to push for change in the current digital ecosystem. In an essay for Fast Company last August, Prince Harry called on business leaders to rethink their role in funding the advertising system that underlies the misinformation and divisive rhetoric that’s often shared on social platforms.

“This remodeling must include industry leaders from all areas drawing a line in the sand against unacceptable online practices as well as being active participants in the process of establishing new standards for our online world,” he wrote.

Now, social media is facing an inflection point, just weeks after a violent mob stormed the Capitol in an attack that was conceived, plotted, and stoked primarily online. Powerful platforms including Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube responded by suspending Donald Trump’s accounts, while Amazon and Apple cut ties with Parler, a social network that was used by the rioters. But experts and regulators believe that more must be done to reform social media.

Against this background, Prince Harry is once again imploring people to pay attention to the problems social media have wrought. In a wide-ranging interview with Fast Company, he explains why social platforms must be held accountable for the Capitol attack and the circumstances that enabled it, and why we must remodel the digital world before it’s too late.

FC: Six months ago, you wrote an essay for Fast Company in which you asked companies to take action to ensure the meaningful reform of our “unchecked and divisive attention economy.” How has your perspective on social media’s role in society changed over the last few weeks since the attack on the U.S. Capitol?

Prince Harry: When I wrote that piece, I was sharing my view that dominant online platforms have contributed to and stoked the conditions for a crisis of hate, a crisis of health, and a crisis of truth.

And I stand by that, along with millions of others who see and feel what this era has done at every level—we are losing loved ones to conspiracy theories, losing a sense of self because of the barrage of mistruths, and at the largest scale, losing our democracies.

The magnitude of this cannot be overstated, as noted even by the defectors who helped build these platforms. It takes courage to stand up, cite where things have gone wrong, and offer proposals and solutions. The need for that is greater than ever before. So I’m encouraged by and grateful for the groundswell of people who work—or have worked—inside these very platforms choosing to speak up against hate, violence, division, and confusion.

FC: Why is this topic so important to you? How was your outlook affected by the well-documented online harassment you and your wife have faced in the U.K.?

PH: I was really surprised to witness how my story had been told one way, my wife’s story had been told one way, and then our union sparked something that made the telling of that story very different.

That false narrative became the mothership for all of the harassment you’re referring to. It wouldn’t have even begun had our story just been told truthfully.

WE ARE LOSING LOVED ONES TO CONSPIRACY THEORIES, LOSING A SENSE OF SELF BECAUSE OF THE BARRAGE OF MISTRUTHS, AND AT THE LARGEST SCALE, LOSING OUR DEMOCRACIES.”

PRINCE HARRY, THE DUKE OF SUSSEX

But the important thing about what we experienced is that it led to us hearing from so many others around the world. We’ve thought a lot about those in much more vulnerable positions than us, and how much of a need there is for real empathy and support.

To their own degree, everyone has been deeply affected by the current consequences of the digital space. It could be as individual as seeing a loved one go down the path of radicalisation or as collective as seeing the science behind the climate crisis denied.

We are all vulnerable to it, which is why I don’t see it as a tech issue, or a political issue—it’s a humanitarian issue.

From an early age, the guiding principle in my life has been about the duty to truth, the pursuit of compassion, and the alleviation of suffering. My life has always been about trying to do my part to help those who need it most, and right now, we need this change—because it touches nearly every single thing we do or are exposed to.

FC: Where do we go from here? What do you think needs to change to create an online atmosphere where truth, equity, and free speech are all prioritized?

PH: I ask the same thing every day and lean on the experts to help give guidance on how to reform the state of our digital world—how we make it better for our kids, of course, but also for ourselves—now.

The avalanche of misinformation we are all inundated with is bending reality and has created this distorted filter that affects our ability to think clearly or even understand the world around us.

What happens online does not stay online—it spreads everywhere, like wildfire: into our homes and workplaces, into the streets, into our minds. The question really becomes about what to do when news and information sharing is no longer a decent, truthful exchange, but rather an exchange of weaponry.

WHAT HAPPENS ONLINE DOES NOT STAY ONLINE—IT SPREADS EVERYWHERE, LIKE WILDFIRE: INTO OUR HOMES AND WORKPLACES, INTO THE STREETS, INTO OUR MINDS.”

PRINCE HARRY, THE DUKE OF SUSSEX

The answer I’ve heard from experts in this space is that the common denominator starts with accountability. There has to be accountability to collective wellbeing, not just financial incentive. It’s hard for me to understand how the platforms themselves can eagerly take profit but shun responsibility.

There also has to be common, shared accountability. We can call for digital reform and debate how that happens and what it looks like, but it’s also on each of us to take a more critical eye to our own relationship with technology and media. To start, it doesn’t have to be that complicated. Consider setting limits on the time you spend on social media, stop yourself from endlessly scrolling, fact-check the source and research the information you see, and commit to taking a more compassionate approach and tone when you post or comment. These might seem like little things, but they add up.

Finally, there’s a responsibility to compassion that we each own. Humans crave connection, social bonds, and a sense of belonging. When we don’t have those, we end up fractured, and in the digital age that can unfortunately be a catalyst for finding connection in mass extremism movements or radicalisation. We need to take better care of each other, especially in these times of isolation and vulnerability.

FC: Since the Capitol riot, big tech companies from Twitter to Amazon have exercised their power by making determinations about who gets to use their products. Do you think companies should have the power to make decisions about who has access to some of the most prominent platforms on the internet?

PH: We have seen time and again what happens when the real-world cost of misinformation is disregarded. There is no way to downplay this. There was a literal attack on democracy in the United States, organised on social media, which is an issue of violent extremism. It is widely acknowledged that social media played a role in the genocide in Myanmar and was used as a vehicle to incite violence against the Rohingya people, which is a human rights issue. And in Brazil, social media provided a conduit for misinformation which ultimately brought destruction to the Amazon, which is an environmental and global health issue.

In a way, taking a predominately hands-off approach to problems for so long is itself an exercise in power.

Recently, I’ve been thinking about Speakers’ Corner, an area in London’s Hyde Park which is home to open-air debate, dialogue, and the exchange of information and ideas. I used to go past it all the time.

This concept of a ‘public square’ isn’t anything new—it can be traced back to the early days of democracies. You get up there and speak your piece. There are ground rules. You can’t incite violence, you can’t obscure who you are, and you can’t pay to monopolise or own the space itself. Ideas are considered or shot down; opinions are formed. At its best, movements are born, lies are laid bare, and attempts to stoke violence are rejected in the moment. At its worst, intolerance, groupthink, hate, and persecution are amplified. And at times, it forces lines to be drawn and rules or laws to emerge or be challenged.

I THINK IT’S A FALSE CHOICE TO SAY YOU HAVE TO PICK BETWEEN FREE SPEECH OR A MORE COMPASSIONATE AND TRUSTWORTHY DIGITAL WORLD.”

PRINCE HARRY, THE DUKE OF SUSSEX

I’m not saying we should abandon technology in favour of Speakers’ Corner. Rather, it’s that we should avoid buying into the idea that social media is the ultimate modern-day public square and that any attempt to ask platforms to be accountable to the landscape they’ve created is an attack or restriction of speech. I think it’s a false choice to say you have to pick between free speech or a more compassionate and trustworthy digital world. They are not mutually exclusive.

With these companies, in this model, we have a very small number of incredibly powerful and consolidated gatekeepers who have deployed hidden algorithms to pick the content billions see every day, and curate the information—or misinformation—everyone consumes. This radically alters how and why we inform opinions. It alters how we speak and what we decide to speak about. It alters how we think and how we react.

Ultimately, it has allowed for completely different versions of reality, with opposing sets of truth, to exist simultaneously. In this, one’s understanding of truth does not have to be based in fact, because there’s always an ability to furnish some form of “proof” to reinforce that version of “truth.” I believe this is the opposite of what we should want from our collective online community. The current model sorts and separates rather than bringing us together; it drowns out or even eliminates healthy dialogue and reasonable debate; it strips away the mutual respect we should have for each other as citizens of the same world.

FC: How do you plan to use your platform to push for change when it comes to hate speech, algorithmic amplification, and misinformation in 2021? Since you’re not a trained expert on these topics, why do you think people should listen to your perspective?

PH: I know enough to know that I certainly don’t know everything, especially when it comes to tech—but when you see this as a humanitarian issue, then you see the spread of misinformation as requiring a humanitarian response.

This is why my wife and I spent much of 2020 consulting the experts and learning directly from academics, advocates, and policymakers. We’ve also been listening with empathy to people who have stories to share—including people who have been deeply affected by misinformation and those who grew up as digital natives.

What we hope to do is continue to be a spotlight for their perspectives, and focus on harnessing their experience and energy to accelerate the pace of change in the digital world.

FC: Your Archewell Foundation has collaborated with several groups and institutions that aim to rethink technology and study its impact on people. As a philanthropist, why are you supporting research efforts within this space?

PH: If we’ve learned anything, it’s that our dominant technologies were built to grow and grow and grow, without serious consideration for the ripple effect of that growth. We have to do more than simply reconsider this model. The stakes are too high, and time is running out.

WE HAVE TO DO MORE THAN SIMPLY RECONSIDER THIS MODEL. THE STAKES ARE TOO HIGH, AND TIME IS RUNNING OUT.”

PRINCE HARRY, THE DUKE OF SUSSEX

There are a lot of incredible people and digital architects thinking about—or already working on—innovative and healthy platforms. We need to support them, not only because it’s the right thing to do, but also because it can make commercial sense. And we have to look at the state of competition and ensure that the landscape doesn’t indiscriminately squeeze out or incentivise against fresh ideas.

I believe we can begin to make our digital world healthier, more compassionate, more inclusive, and trustworthy.

And it’s time to move from rethinking to remodelling.

FC: Given your concerns about divisiveness, misinformation, and hate speech online, how have your views on using social media yourself changed over the last few years? How do you approach it now and are you planning to make any changes?

PH: It’s funny you should ask because ironically, we woke up one morning a couple of weeks ago to hear that a Rupert Murdoch newspaper said we were evidently quitting social media. That was ‘news’ to us, bearing in mind we have no social media to quit, nor have we for the past 10 months.

The truth is, despite its well-documented ills, social media can offer a means of connecting and community, which are vital to us as human beings. We need to hear each other’s stories and be able to share our own. That’s part of the beauty of life. And don’t get me wrong; I’m not suggesting that a reform of the digital space will create a world that’s all rainbows and sunshine, because that’s not realistic, and that, too, isn’t life.

There can be disagreement, conversation, opposing points of view—as there should be, but never to the extent that violence is created, truth is mystified, and lives are jeopardised.

We will revisit social media when it feels right for us—perhaps when we see more meaningful commitments to change or reform—but right now we’ve thrown much of our energy into learning about this space and how we can help.

FC: Are you optimistic or pessimistic about our ability to build a healthier online ecosystem?

PH: Optimistic, of course, because I believe in us, as human beings, and that we are wired to be compassionate and honest and good. Aspects of the digital space have unfortunately manipulated (or even highlighted) our weaknesses and brought out the worst in some.

We have to believe in optimism because that’s the world and the humanity I want for my son, and all of us.

We look forward to being part of the human experience—not a human experiment.

#royals #prince harry #duke of sussex #fast company

0 notes

all-things-are-nothing-to-me · 4 years

Text

Anarchy Vs. Communalism: Bookchin, 'Lifestylism', Ideology & Greenwashing

Blasted Lifestylists!

The father of communalism; Murray Bookchin, long identified as an anarchist but later in life penned scathing attacks against anarchists. He largely invented an imaginary schism between what he termed 'lifestylist' anarchists and socialists, denouncing 'lifestylists' as being beneath him.

Even though he eventually abandoned anarchism in favor of his communalist ideology, this elitist divide he created between 'lifestylism' and socialism continues to reverberate today, with some social-anarchists even going as far as to distance themselves from the individualist aspects of anarchy that largely defined the movement from the beginning. This manufactured divide has greatly assisted in fragmenting anarchists into two opposing factions and led to needless infighting and distraction.

He lobbed the accusation of 'lifestylism' against anarchists who live a life that, to them, embodies the spirit of anarchy but, in his view, do not work hard enough to achieve revolutionary social organization and the overthrow of capitalism. He also used it as an insult towards anarchists he saw as promoting what he termed "anti-rationalism".

In reality, Bookchin was creating a false dichotomy; something he did often in his writings so he could then promote his patented solutions to problems that were often non-existent... Individualist anarchists are perfectly capable of both living anarchically in the current moment, as well as organizing for a future beyond capitalism.

A lot of the most successful anarchist movements in the world today stem from individualist tendencies. These movements are then aided by the social-anarchist concept of 'prefiguration' to create movements within the current system that replicate the conditions that would exist in an anarchist society. This allows the people exposed to these movements to see that anarchy works, and become comfortable with the idea of a post-capitalist world. Food Not Bombs is a great example of this.

Bookchin on anarchism:

[Anarchism] represents in its authentic form a highly individualistic outlook that fosters a radically unfettered lifestyle, often as a substitute for mass action—is far better suited to articulate a Proudhonian single-family peasant and craft world than a modern urban and industrial environment. I myself once used this political label, but further thought has obliged me to conclude that, its often-refreshing aphorisms and insights notwithstanding, it is simply not a social theory.

Regrettably, the use of socialistic terms has often prevented anarchists from telling us or even understanding clearly what they are: individualists whose concepts of autonomy originate in a strong commitment to personal liberty rather than to social freedom, or socialists committed to a structured, institutionalized, and responsible form of social organization.

In fact anarchism represents the most extreme formulation of liberalism’s ideology of unfettered autonomy, culminating in a celebration of heroic acts of defiance of the state. Anarchism’s mythos of self-regulation (auto nomos)—the radical assertion of the individual over or even against society and the personalistic absence of responsibility for the collective welfare—leads to a radical affirmation of the all-powerful will so central to Nietzsche’s ideological peregrinations. Some self-professed anarchists have even denounced mass social action as futile and alien to their private concerns and made a fetish of what the Spanish anarchists called grupismo, a small-group mode of action that is highly personal rather than social.

He penned this attack against anarchy late in his life while he was working to build communalism into his final legacy, perhaps hoping he would go down in history with Marx as the father of a powerful socialist ideology that could outlive him and impact the world for centuries. He even warned that if his communalist ideology was not adopted by the world at large, it would result in the destruction of everything.

Equating anarchism with liberalism, when he spent years of his life identifying as an anarchist is a rather shameless attempt at rewriting history in order to sell his new vanity project. It's a true shame that he ended his long history in radical politics on such a sour and self-defeating note.

Communalism: Murray's Prescribed Cure for Lifestylism

Bookchin's politics evolved greatly throughout his life, starting with Stalinism and then Trotskyism in his youth, before he found anarcho-communism. In the 1970s, disillusioned with the authoritarian nature of the Leninism that dominated the worldwide socialist scene, he stated that he felt closer to free-market libertarians; who unlike the totalitarian Marxist-Leninists, will readily defend the rights of the individual. Later, he developed a series of interrelated ideologies; anarchist social ecology, post-scarcity anarchism and libertarian municipalism. He increasingly spoke out against the innate individualism of the anarchist movement, and finally broke with anarchism completely to form communalism. He was a professor and taught students his political theories.

This is a description of communalism in his own words (while also managing to disparage both anarchism and Marxism in the same breath, in true Bookchin fashion):

The choice of the term Communalism to encompass the philosophical, historical, political, and organizational components of a socialism for the twenty-first century has not been a flippant one. The word originated in the Paris Commune of 1871, when the armed people of the French capital raised barricades not only to defend the city council of Paris and its administrative substructures but also to create a nationwide confederation of cities and towns to replace the republican nation-state.

Communalism as an ideology is not sullied by the individualism and the often explicit antirationalism of anarchism; nor does it carry the historical burden of Marxism’s authoritarianism as embodied in Bolshevism. It does not focus on the factory as its principal social arena or on the industrial proletariat as its main historical agent; and it does not reduce the free community of the future to a fanciful medieval village. Its most important goal is clearly spelled out in a conventional dictionary definition: Communalism, according to The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, is ”a theory or system of government in which virtually autonomous local communities are loosely bound in a federation.”

Communalism brings production and certain property under the control of municipal assemblies, who decide how property should be best distributed to meet the needs of the confederation.

While not being a state by the most common definition (since the political process is strictly localized), municipal assemblies could still be described as a form of hierarchical government. Communalism is a big step up over most other forms of government, attempting to curtail and decentralize the power structures we are governed by, but it's not anarchy.

Localized power structures are still very corruptible. They still create hierarchy. They can still grow out of control. Similarly to ancient Greece's democracy; communalism deliberately allows for majority rule (or democracy-by-the-majority). This limitation should instantly disqualify it as being a form of anarchy, as voter-hierarchies can easily be exploited by authoritarians to exclude minority groups from the political process, and thus deny them the right to self-determination. Any society that encourages the majority to force their will on a minority (thus creating a clear hierarchy) can't honestly be described as anarchist in nature. Bookchin reinforces this further:

The anarcho-communist notion of a very loose ‘federation of autonomous communes’ is replaced with a confederation from which its components, functioning in a democratic manner through citizens’ assemblies, may withdraw only with the approval of the confederation as a whole.

So, according to Bookchin, a community which joins a confederation “may withdraw only with the approval of the confederation as a whole.” This is probably the worst aspect of his majority-rule fetishization, as it locks entire communities into his system forever, whether those who didn't want the system like it or not. Any organization that forbids you from withdrawing from it is clearly at odds with libertarian ideals and the right to freedom of association, so it's really dishonest of him to talk about 'libertarian' municipalism when it's anything but:

[Libertarian municipalism's goal is to] create in embryonic form the institutions that can give power to a people generally ... In short, it is through the municipality that people can reconstitute themselves from isolated monads into an innovative body politic and create an existentially vital, indeed protoplasmic civil life that has continuity and institutional form as well as civic content. I refer here to the block organizations, neighborhood assemblies, town meetings, civic confederations, and public arenas for discourse that go beyond such episodic, single issue demonstrations and campaigns, valuable as they may be to redress social injustices.

Put into practice, I believe communalism can initially be a successful departure from the unwieldy nation-state monolith that plagues the world today and a reversion to the city-states that were once prevalent in ancient Greece at the dawn of civilization. Bookchin writes fondly of classical Athenian democracy, which he uses to glorify his romantic view of Western civilization.

But does simply returning to an earlier state of civilization go far enough? Will an effective micro-state not morph back into a super-state as it grows and faces both internal and external pressures? Decentralization is admirable, but is it enough to successfully safeguard us from statism? And are Athenian democracy and Western civilization even things we want to reproduce, when both allow for the brutal oppression of minorities, were both built on slavery, and institutionalized the denial of human rights to anyone that wasn't a member of the privileged class?

Bookchin's ideas for 'libertarian' majority-rule democracy are deeply flawed and really can't be described as being anything other than authoritarian:

The minority must have patience and allow a majority decision to be put into practice... Municipal minorities [must] defer to the majority wishes of participating communities.

Any anarchist reading this should immediately be alarmed at the unjust hierarchical implications it presents. White people putting their priorities ahead of black people, men forcing their will on women, Christians excluding Muslims, polluters shutting down environmentalists, heterosexuals subjugating homosexuals... Whichever voting body has the highest numbers (or best propaganda) can effectively rule over the minority. It's almost as if Bookchin came full circle, returning to the Stalinism of his youth after his flirtation with individualism and anarchy.

While direct democracy is one of several decision-making mechanisms anarchists may utilize, communalism doesn't simply allow for direct democracy; it requires it. Enshrines it in law. In making his case for direct democracy, Bookchin asserts that the only other option anarchists have at our disposal is consensus democracy. He then proceeds to brutally attack the consensus decision-making method, associating it with anarcho-primitivism (which he vocally loathes, even equating it to Nazism) and deems it 'authoritarian'. This allows him to offer an exact prescription to the 'problem' of multi-layered anarchist decision making in the form of his definitive, structured ideology and its rules.

Organizational structures such as those communalism revolves around should be treated as a means, not an end. Basing an entire social system around a specific structured mode of organization that was designed to be implemented under the conditions present in the 1990s is restrictive and shortsighted.

Anarchy allows for communities to be adaptable to the conditions present in the place and time where the community exists. Rigid ideological structures should always be avoided as they rapidly become outmoded. Historically, communities revolving around political ideologies tend to become dogmatic, and as a result fail to adapt as conditions prove unfavorable to the demands of the ideology.

For instance: Marxism requires that a highly advanced industrial economy be present before Marxist communism can be implemented. Most of the societies where Marxism was attempted lacked these conditions, and destructive policies were implemented in order to speed up industrialization (including mass-displacement of people); eventually leading to the collapse of the societies and ecological damage that will continue to be felt for millennia. As Marx had designed his economic model to function under specific conditions, Marxist leaders attempted to force their societies to fit a mold they simply didn't fit.

The unwillingness to sway from ideological dogma; however impractical the planned system proves in practice, has frequently led to disaster. So any political movement that has strict guidelines for how society should be structured and governed has big weaknesses right out of the gate. Anarchy requires flexibility, because all forms of social planning can lead to unexpected hierarchies popping up. The avoidance of hierarchies needs to be more important than sticking to a pre-written ideology if we are to pursue anarchy.

Dedicated ideologues often tarnish anarchy as being 'vague' and lacking in exact instruction. I'd argue this is exactly why anarchy succeeds and manages to be so ageless; reinventing itself with every new generation of revolutionaries. Prescribing a one-size-fits-all solution to life is impractical in an ever changing, multi-cultural world. Especially while we're experiencing unprecedented worldwide social and ecological collapses. The greatest strength of anarchy is its flexibility. Anarchists have long laughed in the face of those who would have us live by their rigid rules.

A Green Anarchist Perspective

Green anarchists like myself are often most critical of Bookchin's ideas because of his concept of 'post-scarcity'; which to anyone paying attention to the catastrophic mass extinction event we're in the midst of, is dangerously idealistic. Resources don't cease to be scarce when socialism is adopted; the reality is that resources are dwindling all over the planet after centuries of over-extraction; including by socialist states. Once those resources run out, there's no getting them back, so an ideology that envisions a 'post-scarcity' economy is intrinsically flawed.

Bookchin and other socialists imagine a society where regular people, rather than states, have the power to determine policy. And they imagine this society will somehow be spared the same destructive pitfalls of capitalist society. But there's no reason to assume that.

We have centuries of history showing us that people will not altruistically opt for policies that will put the ecosystem or minority groups (especially indigenous and immigrant groups) ahead of their immediate personal interests.

Just as people now vote for politicians that loudly promote disastrous environmental and social policies in order to safeguard their own privileges in society, history shows us they would continue to make damaging decisions if the system moved from representative democracy to direct democracy. To imagine that everyone in a society is capable of acting unselfishly and putting other people and other lifeforms ahead of their own families is foolhardy. They will use their voting power to protect their own immediate interests at the expense of everything else. That's how power works. It corrupts everything in its path absolutely, whether its wielded by a politician or a private citizen is irrelevant.

Bookchin saw technology as a mode of revolution, and promoted using technology in ecologically sustainable ways, but green anarchists are often critical of the technologies Bookchin envisioned. We see them as inherently isolating and hierarchical. A position Bookchin scoffs at.

One of the technologies he promoted was cybernation, which is essentially 'rule by machine'. Tasks are assigned, decisions made and resources distributed by computers; largely diminishing an individual's self-determination and leaving it up to software algorithms. Like all software solutions, cybernation could potentially be hijacked by malicious actors who could seize control of the system and give themselves untold power. Cybernation is also exposed to the personal biases of the programmers who write the software. The programmers effectively govern the governor.

Bookchin often wrote enthusiastically about the revolutionary potential he saw in such technologies:

Bourgeois society, if it achieved nothing else, revolutionized the means of production on a scale unprecedented in history. This technological revolution, culminating in cybernation, has created the objective, quantitative basis for a world without class rule, exploitation, toil or material want. The means now exist for the development of the rounded man, the total man, freed of guilt and the workings of authoritarian modes of training, and given over to desire and the sensuous apprehension of the marvelous. It is now possible to conceive of man's future experience in terms of a coherent process in which the bifurcations of thought and activity, mind and sensuousness, discipline and spontaneity, individuality and community, man and nature, town and country, education and life, work and play are all resolved, harmonized, and organically wedded in a qualitatively new realm of freedom.

Advanced technologies can forever alter the way we live our lives, detach us from our ecosystems and train us to seek fleeting relief from technologies, even as those technologies forever degrade and pollute the ecosystems we depend on to survive. It's easy to ignore the damage industry does to our ecosystems when we can use the technology it produces to escape from the reality of our situation... At least until the ecosystems become so degraded that they can no longer sustain our lives and we're forced to look up from our digital sanctuaries to gasp for air.

Bookchin's emphasis on the modern urban city in his theories will give pause to anyone who has studied the history of civilization and its disastrous effect on every ecosystem it comes into contact with. City life has always alienated us from the land and what it produces for us, creating the depressing situation where most urban dwellers raised in vast concrete deserts have little respect for the natural world or want of preserving it. When the repercussions of our actions towards the ecosystem are completely hidden from us, it's unlikely we'll change our behavior and act to preserve whatever ecological diversity the planet has left on the fringes of the grim industrial wastelands we call civilization.

A society structured around advanced technology can even create new elite classes of technologically advanced people and exploited underclasses whose lands are used to mine and manufacture the devices the technological class grow dependent on. It's easy to see how this cycle can lead to devastating hierarchies.

Bookchin claimed technology and agriculture can be made sustainable with new advances, but years after his death, technology has improved greatly, while the destruction to the planet caused by it has increased tenfold. The science is showing us that the damage industry has done to the world's ecosystems could very well lead to our own extinction in the near future.

Bookchin wrote:

The development of giant factory complexes and the use of single or dual-energy sources are responsible for atmospheric pollution. Only by developing smaller industrial units and diversifying energy sources by the extensive use of clean power (solar, wind and water power) will it be possible to reduce industrial pollution. The means for this radical technological change are now at hand.

Technologists have developed miniaturized substitutes for large-scale industrial operation—small versatile machines and sophisticated methods for converting solar, wind and water energy into power usable in industry and the home. These substitutes are often more productive and less wasteful than the large-scale facilities that exist today.

While it is true that 'green' fuels can be less destructive than 'dirty' fuels, they still remain incredibly destructive, and by no means can they be sourced from a single ecosystem as Bookchin imagines in his writings.

The machines Bookchin speaks of are built using a large assortment of materials that need to be sourced from different ecosystems all over the world. The processes to extract the materials are destructive, the processes to transport the materials to the manufacturing plants and distribution points are destructive, and the waste products created during manufacturing are destructive. There are currently no viable solutions for any of these problems, and every new technology introduced to the market has instead created yet more inequality, warfare and environmental destruction; especially for the Global South that is exploited by the West for its natural resources and cheap (or slave) labor.

Solar panels and wind turbines depend on dirty mining to acquire the minerals needed for their construction, and massive energy use (usually coal) during manufacturing. Mining the quartz that solar panels are made from causes the lung disease silicosis in the impoverished miners. Then, once the quartz is transported to the factories, the manufacturing process creates vats of toxic waste (silicon tetrachloride) that is disposed of in random fields near the factories in China, contaminating the soil and water, and making entire rural populations sick.

From "China’s Communist-Capitalist Ecological Apocalypse" by Richard Smith, Real-World Economics Review no. 71:

When exposed to humid air, silicon tetrachloride turns into acids and poisonous hydrogen chloride gas, which can make people dizzy and cause breathing difficulties. Ren Bingyan, a professor of material sciences at Hebei Industrial University, contacted by the Post, told the paper that “the land where you dump or bury it will be infertile. No grass or trees will grow in its place… It is… Poisonous, it is polluting. Human beings can never touch it.” When the dumping began, crops wilted from the white dust, which sometimes rose in clouds several feet off the ground and spread over the fields as the liquid dried. Village farmers began to faint and became ill. And at night, villagers said “the factory’s chimneys released a loud whoosh of acrid air that stung their eyes and made it hard to breath.”

Solar panel, wind turbine and battery production fuels colonialism, slavery, war, hunger, fossil fuel burning and ecocide. Calling these energies "green" is really a bold-faced lie and just the latest example of industrialism giving itself a skip-deep makeover that will quickly fall apart when the evidence piles up too high for the media to ignore. By promoting these destructive industries, Bookchin aids their shameless greenwashing.

Bookchin:

The absolute negation of the centralized economy is regional ecotechnology— a situation in which the instruments of production are molded to the resources of an ecosystem.

The idea that rapidly advancing technologies can be distributed equally among billions of people (which they would need to be if we care at all about preventing power-hierarchies and inequality from forming), or that all people would even want their lives to be governed by these technologies is naive at best, or a malicious falsehood aimed at selling books and "Institute for Social Ecology" certificates at worst.

Bookchin's insistence that industry is only destructive because of capitalism, and would instead be liberating under (decentralized) socialism has no basis in reality, as the technologies he romanticizes remain destructive to the environment and are hierarchy-forming regardless of the social system in place. They also require resources that simply cannot be sourced from a single locale. This fact alone greatly diminishes his theory.

Bookchin:

The new declasses of the twentieth century are being created as a result of the bankruptcy of all social forms based on toil. They are the end products of the process of propertied society itself and of the social problems of material survival. In the era when technological advances and cybernation have brought into question the exploitation of man by man, toil, and material want in any form whatever, the cry "Black is beautiful" or "Make love, not war" marks the transformation of the traditional demand for survival into a historically new demand for life.

Bookchin's plans for localized, ecologically-sound, self-supporting, automated micro-industries unfortunately remain a pipe dream; vaporware if you will. In the 21st century, as the Earth's ecosystems collapse all around us under the strain of industrial exploitation, as forests burn, lands flood and countless species of plants and animals go extinct forever, his vision of distributing industrial technology equally and freely to everyone on the planet becomes less and less relevant to our reality. These ideas aren't something to base a political movement for lasting social change on. Not on a planet being rapidly exterminated by industry.

Bookchin eventually broke with anarchism completely when he finalized the guidelines of his communalist ideology. Today a lot of his more practical ideas have been implemented by the celebrated Rojava community in western Kurdistan, which has had mixed results in achieving his vision.

His attacks on individualist anarchists (especially of the anti-civ flavor), have provided decades of fuel for collectivist anarchist ideologues to villainize and purge non-collectivists from our spaces. A lot of these people soon follow in Bookchin's footsteps and abandon anarchy altogether in favor of various structured ideologies including Marxism-Leninism, transhumanism and communalism.

#ziq #anti civ #communalism #green anarchism #industrial civilization #libertarian municipalism #lifestylism #lifestyle anarchism #murray bookchin #social ecology

66 notes · View notes

sing-it-out-anonymous · 4 years

Text

Open Letter 19

Hi there! How are you during these times of pandemic? Ako, i'm coping up with the current situation. Mas daghan man jud times na wala koy ka storya, and my ideas somehow are shutting off in my head. Scroll-scroll lang permi sa fb and daghan jud kog mga disagreement sa mga post, lami pud mu-react, dili man ko ani dati ahaha so i call it side-effect of the isolation.

Mutuo na ko anang notion nga the more na maka get along ka, hinay-hinay pud na mugawas imong tinuod na color. like me, at first sa tumblr newbie pa ulaw-ulaw kuno kay murag tanga ga sulat og mga butang na nahitabo around me, pero kadugayan og sigeg anonymously ranting about anything or stating things here, it really made me comfortable and i can say nga naa nako sa comfort zone nga ibulgar nako sa akong mga readers kung kinsa sad ko, by way of my writings. So bare with me, it’s not like I’m a coward nga I didn’t state my name kung kinsa ko. But this brings me comfort, I can shoutout what I want to state.

So here it is..

First of all, I’m a political science graduate, and I’m proud of it. I didn’t end up working on any non government organizations neither working sa mga government offices. Nag pol sci ko, dili tungod kay gusto ko mahimong governor, senator, mayor, kagawad or unsa pang klaseng rank sa government offices. Tong highschool ko, I really don’t know what I’m going to do after, and when people saw my character, ni-ana sila na nice daw kung maglawyer ko, and then sympre pag lawyer, pol sci jud na ilang prep course. So nag pol sci ko, siguro slight sila ang reason, pero before ko nagpa enroll, I really think this is my destiny. And I never regretted it. Every single day of learning were like “ aha moment” for me. My intellectuality widens, na akong perspective sa kalibutan na maximize. I love learning pol sci, I love learning theories, historical facts atbp. That’s why even nga I didn’t end up sa mga pang pol sci nga trabaho jud, I didn’t regret my choice. And if mubalik ko sa akong past, kani gihapon ang course na gusto na ko e take. I’m a die hard fan of this course. I’m a die hard fan of my teachers, nga maskin karon gina follow nako sila sa fb to get good insights. Kani akong topic run, cause I was scrolling yesterday late at night and I saw someone endorsing Political Science sa mga graduates sa K-12, and I didn’t think she did a good job in endorsing the course. The way I read it, mura bag wala jud niya na-tagamtaman ang gina offer sa course. So sad. Pol Sci iyang prep course sa college, pero murag dili sia graduate of pol sci. What a shame.

Kani tanan questions diri, mao ni ang questions na gipang tubag niya, and I want to put justice sa Pol Sci nga course, dili ni english pero I’ll try my best na e- endorse ni sa uban.. so here it is

Question 1: “Why Did I Choose Political Science”

Yun nga, I told you the history why naka take og Pol Sci. Basically, you will never know the reason man jud, and most of the influences ngano ko nagtake ani is based on my circles. Pero like what I’ve said, I never regretted to be here.

Sa ako nga nahuman nako ni na course, I can say to you that this is a good preparatory course for law school because of its discipline. Tinuod nga mas daghan subjects sa law school na natake up sa Accountancy na course, og mas hasa sila magbasa og law subjects kay yun nga, mao na na ilang training sigeg basa og law like oblicon and the same, ilaha man jud na. naa silay overview, mao mas hasa sila. While ang Pol Sci, 2-3 subjects lang ata ang naa sa Law School: Phil Con, Int’l Law, so sa kana na butang kulelat jud ang pol sci because dili kana ang pol sci about. Parehas sa akong giingon, ang disiplina sa political science ang reason ngano ideal sia pang preparatory course. We can understand the public policy behind every law, because every law is not just a “law” on its own, but the heart of every law is to safeguard and protect the welfare of the people and only the discipline of political science will help you understand the depth of safeguarding the people, mao mana ang law all about diba? Law school should not be a money making industry and to prevent that of becoming one, I really suggest na magtake up kag pol sci. being a lawyer in the making, should give you a sense of responsibility and accountability. And ang pol sci jud ang best na prep course for that.

I’m currently working as a staff sa isa ka business and pol sci helped to examine and analyze mga puzzles diri sa office. Coz business is not just about business, its about the people also, the employees, the employer and their relationship. Discipline is really important. Kung ni graduate kag pol sci without its discipline then maypag wala ka nag pol sci dhai.

Question 2: “What is my current job and how long did it take to find a job?”

I’m a licensed real estate broker, currently I am working as non-exclusive broker and as regular staff in a real estate company. Before I graduated College, nag take kog 120 hrs nga course para maka take og board exam sa real estate broker, which means mon to fri school, and Saturday-Sunday lecture time for REB. For my case, dili siya lisud mangita og job since kaila na ko ang tag iya sa company. But as far as I know sa akong mga friends, naay uban nga naka trabaho dayun, og naay uban nga dugay nakakita og trabaho. Mas daghan kog classmate nga nag proceed og law or nag study og balik sa different course-naay uban nag teacher, nag pilot and etc, naa say uban nga nahimo governor, government worker and same. Actually kung imong pangutana, dali ba makakita og trabaho, well dhai depende na siya sa imong attitude mangita og trabaho. Dili na siya sa imong kurso. Kung disidido jud ka maningkamot makakita jud dayun ka kay makita mana sa imong “exterior”- sa imong aura. kung tamadun jud ka, wala juy para sa imo. Dili man gud pattern ang kinabuhi nga 1+1=2, in reality kelangan jud ikaw mismo naa kay pananaw sa kalibutan para makasugakod.

Question 3: “Am I using what I learned in college in my current job and/or further studies?”

Of course, parehas sa akong giingon sa Question 1, gina-apply na ko ang discipline sa akong course. Imposible kaayo nga dili ni ma-apply nga tanan tao is a political animal and social being. Tanan tao kay naay influence-either gamay or dako og tanan tao naay measurement sa ilang power. Og dili lang kana, personally kay makahalobilo man sad kog mga clients, ma-apply na ko na kelangan sad nako e- safeguard ilang welfare as buyers and also the employer. Dili man gud all the time imong answer sa tanan problema kay 1+1=2. Naay ubang problema na kelangan e set aside nimo ang answer, sometimes you need to compromise, og ang discipline sa pol sci ang nakatabang ana sa ako-on how to handle spaces of error sa akong circle and to give teeth on the regulations. Teeth is really important, without it, there is no authority. Kana bang social authority, dili enough imong charisma ana og coercive kaayo ka maskin pag ikaw ang tag-iya sa company. Kelangan na ma-balance nimo na para naay loyalty imong tao sa imo.

Question 4: How did Political Science improve my views towards the government, society, and life in general?

Pol Sci really impacted my world views; nga tanan diay is an interconnected beings, especially nga naa ta sa republican state-nga ang tao naa siay freedom of speech whether unsa iyang ika-ingon sa gobyerno. Our right of suffrage entitles us to demand sa atong governement. Second, what pol sci taught me is to really see the facts, kung naa bay historical context behind every dispute, naa bay cultural racism nga nahitabo. Dili pwede sa personal views lang nagadagan tanan, hence, e-base nimo ang imong analyses sa facts and the probabilities. Being a Pol Sci graduate does not entitle me to be opinionated, rather, to see both side of every dispute, and analyses without prejudice. It trained me to detach my self from my point of view. Third, “understanding” is an understatement kay para sa ako mao na ang main theme sa Pol Sci, if you can’t understand a belief that is contrary to ones beliefs, naa kay kulang sa imong learnings. Dili ka complete kung ang rebuttal nimo is imo lang sang belief. Kung naa jud kay pinaglalaban nga thought, make sure nga gitan-aw nimo ang both sides. Pol Sci in general is about helping us to cooperate sa matag-usa. It should give us an avenue to build bridges. Mao mas lisud-lisud kung mutrabaho kag gobyerno tapos imong disiplina kay naa kay racial discrimination. Importante jud nga ang connection sa gobyerno, society og sa imong individual self kay naay harmony og dapat mao na sia ang goal. Because our reality is not lemons, it’s not simple as ABCDs. Pol Sci is a training ground for interconnectivity. Kung makita nimo ang kalibutan wala sia naga return kung asa sia nag-begin, rather every progress is a process of development either by peace or destruction. And ang discipline sa Pol Sci is to expand the evolution of peace with nations, welfare sa mga tao, og naay collective trust ang tao sa gobyerno, vice versa. Mao na ang realidad jud.

For me pud noh as closing remarks sa Question 4, shut up ka kung colurom ka og wa ka gabayad og tax. haha.

Question 5: What is my advise to people planning to take up Political Science?

Political Science is ideal also for business management, all in one na jud ni nga course. For people na gusto mutrabaho og gobyerno sa maskin unsang aspect, mas nice jud guys na mag Pol Sci mo para naa moy conscience kung mag-corrupt mog kwarta sa bayan.

Og sa general public, love it with all your heart and you will not regret the universe of political science. Ayaw ng pinugos sayang kwarta- may nalang ng kwarta mabalik pa sa imo, pero ang oras sa jud dili na mabalik.

- End -

I hope na natagaan na kog justice akong course. Wala jud ko nag sugar coat guys. This is plainly based on my personal experience. I hope nga naingganyo ta mo to have a harmonious living thru learning pol sci. :D

Always,

#davao city #DavaoCity #beyond politics #course #college days #open letter #bisaya #bisdak

6 notes · View notes

joel-furniss-blog · 4 years

Text

Destroying Art

Artwork is centred around creation. The act of making art is exactly that, to make, to bind raw resources both physical and mental and distil them into a finished product. Whether the laying of paint, melding of clay, marking of charcoal, or whatever in between and beyond, art has always been about creating. Originally what was created was something of aesthetical import, something beautiful to excite the senses, but under the progression of society past tradition art was being made that did not excite the eyes but instead flared the mind, the takeover of conceptual art.

The forebearer of conceptual arts lofty goals came in the form of anti-art, a topic I’ve been discussing at length in recent research due to its contextual relevance of my work. Recently I’ve begun questioning my place (if any) in the artworld and the overall pushed notion of the fabled ‘professional artist’ my tutors hold in such high esteem, mainly wondering if that’s a title suited to myself. Perhaps the title of artist isn’t my suit, but rather that of an anti-artist? And if I wish to become the antithesis of an artist, I should not seek to make art, but to destroy it.

I’ve been fascinated with the whim of what could be considered the ultimate artistic subversion for a while now, since last year where I repurposed materials from semester one to continue with in the second semester. The act of reducing my previous work’s sentimental and artistic values to aid my future work as a form of upcycling felt satisfying in an odd way, mainly for its oxymoronic nature. Art is often thought as a culturally sacred ideal, often highly valued (although the work of an art student holds noticeably less value than anything in Sotheby’s) so the act of ruining and repurposing it seems irreverent to the artist who made it and the potential viewer. However, if an artwork remains to the artists who made I, it’s entirely in their right to desecrate, decimate, or otherwise destroy their belongings.

And some artists have indeed done exactly that. Past examples include famous artists often seen as masters of their craft which deem their work unsatisfactory enough to destroy, as an attempt to save themselves the perceived embarrassment of having to display them. Michelangelo, unhappy with his statue The Deposition (1547-55), violently attacked it with a hammer, severing Christ’s leg in the process which remains missing. Claude Monet found many of his revered Water Lily paintings unfit for exhibition and had them demolished, with plans to destroy more before his death. Georgia O’Keefe, before an 80’s solo exhibition at the Whitney Museum, trimmed her catalogue, much like Monet insisting that some were not at her ‘level’.

Examples of artist’s rendering their work inert through repurposing and upscaling is likewise present, typically stemming from a financial lacking. Pablo Picasso’s The Old Guitarist was painted on an already complete canvas, as was Vincent van Gogh’s Patch of Grass, each example theorised as a decision made due to the artist’s inadequate funds at the time, an example of necessary upcycling. Other examples include the covering of minute Easter Eggs, such as Kazimir Malevich’s early Suprematism/monochrome painting which has recently revealed as being painted atop a Cubo-Futurist design featuring the description: ‘Battle of negroes in a dark cave.’, a reference to Alphonse Allais’ all-black comic panel titled similarly, which itself is a reference Paul Bihaud’s also similarly named proto-minimalist painting.

While interesting examples, these all stem not from a need or exploration of destruction, but from the artist’s largest enemy, their ego. Deemed unworthy by the creators themselves in either fits of rage, elderly introspection, monetary restrictions, or simple pride, they dismantled and devalued their own works because of self-defined sense of place as an artist, their own ego holding them to a standard which is literally destructive. I should note however while some injustice is felt from the fact that these works are lost, ultimately, it’s the artist’s opinion and decision, which I personally believe is paramount to an art piece.

Destroying one’s own art for pride’s sake has been done by many artist’s, but what of the opposite, destroying one’s own art for the sake of art itself. As previously stated, doing so would subvert art’s creative power, but now we know it also subverts the source of art’s creative power, the artist’s own ego. Despite art’s relationship with the viewer, which typically decides its value, art can also be viewed as a sole extension of the artist’s self and thus destroying it is a self-destruction, an infanticide of the work or furtherly a suicide of the artist. It’s an interesting theme for its subversive and contradictory aspects, it raises questions about art’s value, the relationship between artist and audience, and the overall place of the artist.

Before I list some important samples of artists destroying their own work, I’d like to briefly highlight some examples of artist destroying the works of other artists, a similarly artistic sacrilege yet lacking the interference of the ego to focus solely on the profane idea of ruining art. A nice example is Erased de Kooning Drawing (1953) when Robert Rauschenberg took a painting from artist friend Willem de Kooning and completely erased every trace of it from the canvas, leaving a mere textured plain with little hints of the paintings past. A more contemporary example is when brothers Jake and Dinos Chapman purchased a mint set of Francisco Goya’s revered Disasters of War prints and ‘rectified’ them via inclusions of clown makeup, cartoonish grins, and Mickey Mouse-esque heads, which many saw as an act of artistic vandalism. While not entirely relevant to the ideas I seek I still hold an appreciation for the bold artistic tactics employed shown, questioning art’s value and role into society and whether the destruction of art is art within itself.

As I’ve drawn examples of artist’s destroying their own work out of status and artist destroying other people’s works out of artistic intention, I’d like to finally broach those artists who subvert the ego through anti-art philosophies and conceptual grounds and display through performance or adjacent recordings. An early example is the task undertaken by American painter John Baldessari in his aptly titled Cremation Project (1970) in which he took a total of 123 paintings made between May 1953 and March 1966 and incinerated them in a crematorium, documenting the whole process through photographs and slides of the works. As a final installation Baldessari baked a small portion of the ash into cookies (which he referred to as ‘corpus wafers’), forged a commemorative bronze plaque dating the ‘birth’ and ‘death’ of the works, and published an affidavit in the San Diego Union newspaper noting the work’s destruction, a sort of artistic obituary. The event itself is not only an example of grand artistic suicide/spectacle but also delves into concepts of morality by using the crematorium as a space/material, but also cycles as seen in the cookies representing cycles of digestion (the paintings and the cremator) and excretion (the ash).

An example close to Baldessari but more contemporary and personal is that of Young British Artist Michael Landy who for his work Break Down (2001). For the ambitious project he catalogued all 7,227 of his worldly belongings including all his food, his clothes, furniture, art materials, his art collection (including works by Tracy Emin and Damien Hirst), books, his car, and even his vital records including his birth certificate and passport. He then organised his possessions into categories and systematically destroyed them all in a two-week period using a reverse-assembly line track in which a series of workers individually shredded, smashed, and crushed them into debris. The process was recorded as part of a documentary and open to the public, attracting 45,000 viewers and ultimately amounting to a six-tonne pile of granulated waste either recycled or sent to landfill and a 300-page book showcasing a full inventory of his belongings. An intentional reaction to consumerist society, the performance also holds some relevance toward my focus as Landy disposed of not only his own physical artworks but also those in his collection, some of which would be considered precious today. It suggests that art is a consumer product like food and clothes, that assigning it a monetary value actually devalues it to a mere product, and not something that incites thought or excites the senses.

An even more recent and largely banal example is when in 2018 a print of street artist Banksy’s Girl With Balloon was presented for auction at Sotheby’s in a suspiciously large frame. Sold for a record sum of £1,042,000, moments after the gavel banged the work began shredding itself using a mechanism built into the frame. Playfully titled a prank by the media, Sotheby’s commented that they had no knowledge of the auto-destruction and championed it as "the first artwork in history to have been created live during an auction" while the work was sold for the original price and gained a new-found publicity as a result. With the publicity the work came under scrutiny, and considering the unusual thickness of frame compared to the piece, the unnoticed weight of the shredder, the artwork conveniently halting halfway despite originally rehearsals fully shredding it, and speculation the video recording the event was filmed by someone in Banksy’s circle, it’s easy to see where the conspiracy took root. Given Banksy’s supposed sell-out status I personally choose to believe that he and Sotheby’s were in cahoots around this prank, and if it is true it shows how the destruction of art can be bastardized. As a rebellious act, an extension of taboo and contradictory self-destruction, it loses some validity when its endorsed by one of the most elite establishments in the artworld, its as if the Queen was the manager for the Sex Pistols.

Despite some critique for the subject, I hold an appreciation for all previously discussed works mainly for their sheer contraction ethic. I love contradiction, as a way to goad and reveal root meanings and problems I find it a useful tool and aids my quest for subversion. Destroying artwork is a contradiction, a confusing farce. Why destroy something that took time, effort, and passion for someone to make? But remember that destroying an artwork in itself takes time, effort, and passion as detailed by my examples (and state-sponsorship in one case). I shall continue to experiment with the theory and practice of decimating and destroying art, but I might not take it to the extremes set by Landy.

#studiopractice4 #contextualresearch

2 notes · View notes