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leviathan-supersystem · 5 years

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i feel like people need to get a better understanding of how certain reactionary memeplexes, particularly those relating to conspiracy theories, work.

okay, remember how westpal shut up real quick when i mentioned that his avatar was from the cover of Behold a Pale Horse? i suspect that’s because he has some level of self awareness, in spite of it all- here’s a brief summary of the book’s relevant segments, swiped from wikipedia:

In Behold a Pale Horse Cooper proposed that AIDS was the result of a conspiracy to decrease the populations of blacks, Hispanics, and homosexuals.[8] In 2000 South Africa's Minister of Health Manto Tshabalala-Msimang received criticism for distributing the chapter discussing this theory to senior South African government officials.[13]Nicoli Nattrass, a longtime critic of AIDS denialists, criticized Tshabalala-Msimang for lending legitimacy to Cooper's theories and disseminating them in Africa.[10]

UFOs, aliens and the Illuminati

Cooper caused a sensation in Ufology circles in 1988 when he claimed to have seen secret documents while in the Navy describing governmental dealings with extraterrestrials, a topic on which he expanded in Behold a Pale Horse.[6] (By one account he served as a "low level clerk" in the Navy, and as such would not have had the security clearance needed to access classified documents.[14]) UFOlogists later asserted that some of the material that Cooper claimed to have seen in Naval Intelligence documents was actually plagiarized verbatim from their research, including several items that the UFOlogists had fabricated as pranks.[15] Don Ecker of UFO Magazine ran a series of exposés on Cooper in 1990.[16]

Cooper linked the Illuminati with his beliefs that extraterrestrials were secretly involved with the United States government, but later retracted these claims. He accused Dwight D. Eisenhower of negotiating a treaty with extraterrestrials in 1954, then establishing an inner circle of Illuminati to manage relations with them and keep their presence a secret from the general public. Cooper believed that aliens "manipulated and/or ruled the human race through various secret societies, religions, magic, witchcraft, and the occult", and that even the Illuminati were unknowingly being manipulated by them.[6]

Cooper described the Illuminati as a secret international organization, controlled by the Bilderberg Group, that conspired with the Knights of Columbus, Masons, Skull and Bones, and other organizations. Its ultimate goal, he said, was the establishment of a New World Order. According to Cooper the Illuminati conspirators not only invented alien threats for their own gain, but actively conspired with extraterrestrials to take over the world.[6] Cooper believed that James Forrestal's fatal fall from a window on the sixteenth floor of Bethesda Hospital was connected to the alleged secret committee Majestic 12, and that JASON advisory group scientists reported to an elite group of Trilateral Commission and Council on Foreign Relations executive committee members who were high-ranking members of the Illuminati.[2][3]

Cooper also claimed that the antisemitic conspiracy theory forgery The Protocols of the Elders of Zion was actually an Illuminati work, and instructed readers to substitute "Sion" for "Zion", "Illuminati" for "Jews", and "cattle" for "Goyim".[3][17][18]

okay so you get the gist here. the usual dumb shit you see in the right-wing conspiracy theory zone.

now, to be clear, i’m not dismissing the idea that people, and the ruling class in particular, might, at times, conspire- indeed, i’m about to go out on a limb here and suggest there may in fact be something to the notion that AIDS was deliberately manufactured, or at least that the government was guilty of severe purposeful neglect.

this is not synonymous with believing in illuminati or UFO crap without evidence- though the purpose of this book, i suspect, is to try to tie those two things indelibly together in people’s minds. not to mention the obvious barely disguised buildup to antisemitism at the end there.

the purpose is twofold- the first to discredit any investigation into there being more of a story behind AIDS, the second to try to lure left-wing leaning people toward right-wing extremism, the mechanism being obvious- first, they’re lured in by wanting to know more about the possibility that AIDS was deliberately engineered to target black and gay communities, something which obviously would have more appeal to those on the left. once lured in, it hits them with the alien bullshit, as well as the inherently reactionary illuminati nonsense, then tops that off by presenting literally the entire text of the protocols of the elders of fucking zion to really start bringing them into the reactionary worldview- but, knowing that the person reading is likely from a left-wing background, an extremely weak effort is made to disguise the antisemitism- “oh, it wasn’t about jewish people, oh no, it was about uhhhhhhhhhhh illuminati” and then if they swallow that, it’s only a short hop from there to “nevermind, it was about jewish people after all.” it’s a tactic used to gradually acclimate people to antisemitism. manipulative “milk before meat” tactics.

you can see the results of this play out in action with Tila Tequila- obviously she didn’t pop out of the womb seig heiling, and there was quite a bit of buildup in the form of new-agey anti-illuminati conspiracy theorism before she became a full-fledged genocidal neonazi.

and the thing is, if there had been an intervention at the right time, she could have been saved from that, before becoming completely conditioned into an ideology which is immensely harmful to so many people.

so, if possible, it’s good to try to ascertain how deep in someone is- have they been completely re-conditioned into a hardline reactionary? or is there still time to help them see what’s happening to them, and stop it?

for example here: [link] this person is clearly deeply in the clutches of reactionary psychological warfare, but it seemed to me like there might still be some hope for them, so i tried to intervene to help them get a better understanding of the nature of the ruling class and so forth.

but, if you’re going to intervene in this way, you need to do some background research first- just going in there and shouting “illuminati fake!” won’t cut it, especially because there was, in fact, an actual historical group called the illuminati, and to effectively grapple with this kind of thing, you’re going to need to have an understanding of what that group’s history was, and how they became such a boogeyman in the reactionary narrative in the first place. to explore this, let’s look at what Behold A Pale Horse has to say about it- which, interestingly, is shockingly little- the name “Weishaupt” (the founder of the actual irl illuminati) appears only 10 times in the whole text:

Adam Weishaupt, a young professor of canon law at Ingolstadt University in Germany, was a Jesuit priest and an initiate of the Illuminati. The branch of the Order he founded in Germany in 1776 was the same Illuminati previously discussed.

the “branch” in question is actually just. the illuminati. it wasn’t a “branch” of a larger pre-existing movement, as Milton here is claiming, and indeed, he never provides any meaningful evidence of any pre-existing illuminati before weischaupt’s group. in fact, he points to the lack of evidence prior to then as proof of how strong their oath of silence was. of course he does.

Weishaupt advocated "abolition of all ordered national governments, abolition of inheritance, abolition of private property, abolition of patriotism, abolition of the individual home and family life as the cell from which all civilizations have stemmed, and abolition of all religions established and existing so that the Luciferian ideology of totali- tarianism may be imposed on mankind."

In the same year that he founded the Illuminati he published Wealth of Nations, the book that provided the ideological foundation for capitalism and for the Industrial Revolution. It is no accident that the Declaration of Independence was written in the same year. On the obverse of the Great Seal of the United States the wise will recognize the all-seeing eye and other signs of the Brotherhood of the Snake

this is interesting here because there’s a strange tension between the anti-communism of contemporary reactionism, and the anti-liberalism and anti-republicanism of the earlier reactionary movements, which anti-illuminati ideology is an echo of.

the first anti-illuminati conspiracy theorists was the reactionary monarchist priest Agustin Barruel, and all anti-illuminism traces back particularly to his book Memoirs Illustrating the History of Jacobinism. inerestingly, he did not at any point in this book accuse them of ruling the world, or wanting to establish “totalitarian” rule! quite the opposite in fact- the illuminati and other enlightenment movements of the time were accused of "conspiracy of impiety" against God and Christianity, the "conspiracy of rebellion" against kings and monarchs, and "the conspiracy of anarchy" against society in general. if you understand anything about Augustin Barruel’s politics, you’ll understand that Augustin was if anything, profoundly in favor of “totalitarianism”, particularly that of the king and the church. he wrote angry screeds against the illuminati precisely because they were anti-totalitarian, and espoused democratic values.

but over time, this reactionary social current had to change with the times. thus the strange tension between accusing weishaupt of both wanting to abolish private property and being behind the publication of Wealth of Nations.

for the record, no, i can’t find any evidence that weishaupt published Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations- but that accusation is nonetheless much more in the spirit of Augustin Barruel’s original accusations that the illuminati were behind the spread of enlightenment values, while the accusation he was against private property sits as an obvious later attempt to incongruously graft anti-communist reactionary talking points onto framework which originated in a reactionary anti-republican pro-monarchist context.

its interesting to see how a rectionary memeplex which was, in it’s origins, overtly pro-ruling class, and overtly anti-populist- as anti-illuminism was in it’s origins in the work of Augustin Barruel- over time get dressed up more and more with the character of a kind of artificial class-consciousness, where a short-lived progressive discussion group has been mythologized into this sort of decoy mirage stand-in for the ruling class, to divert people from developing any real understanding of the actual capitalist ruling class.

at any rate, it’s important to understand the origin an nature of this reactionary social current if you want to effectively help people who are caught up in it- to show them this history so they can see how, in their attempt to oppose the ruling class, they’ve been suckered into a reactionary ideology which is, in both it’s historical origins and contemporary functions, engineered to uphold the ruling class.

#longpost #antisemitism

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babbushka · 4 years

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(you and) your jewish followers: talks abt how being jewish is personal and our experiences being dehumanised by basically everyone which made our people feel uneasy around everyone. that follower: so anyway i wanna play dress up and intrude on private services and i just wanted to know how i could lie to your people more easily so i could ogle at your way of existence 👁👄👁 man mrs z, the goys really are somethin else... ANYWAY hope all is well. tell the mishpacha i said hello :)

Like that’s the thing, you know? It would be one thing if the anon was like “Hi I’m thinking of converting and I’m not sure yet so I’d like to go to a few services and familiarize myself.” or “Hi my friend invited me to service and I’d like to better prepare myself.” But to say “Hi I’m Catholic and I want to sit in on a Jewish service just to see what you guys do in there.” Is such incredibly red flag territory for me.

Goyim, particularly Christians & Catholics have literally spent their entire collective existence hating Jewish people and committing genocide against us!! We have so much inter-generational trauma and tension between them, that honestly our synagogues can feel like the only places where we can exist freely.

And so to have goyim just randomly show up at our synagogues !! It’s like !! Dude can you please let us have our one space where we don’t have to worry about being fetishized? Or demonized? Or killed? We’re not some exotic mystical people that you can treat as a focus group and then deem “Ah Yes After One Shabbos Service Now I Know What Jews Are Like.”

It’s like that argument of, “well I didn’t understand the struggles Muslim people face so I wore a Hijab for a week.” or “I wanted to learn about homelessness so I gave up my phone for 3 days.” Like, instead of trying to sneakily transform yourself into a marginalized group so that you can feel oppressed for 2 seconds and then take off the clothes that you treat as a costume, maybe just....listen to us when we tell you what’s happening to us?

I don’t know. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm, but it’s such a goy thing to do to be like “it’s not enough that we’ve hunted your people to near extinction but now we want to make amends so let us into your private religious spaces so we can then claim to know what your religion is like and therefore absolve us of any guilt.”

And like yes I’m very touchy about the subject but that’s because Jewish people are touchy about being encroached on!! We have so little in this world, please just like, leave alone the small amount we’ve got.

Anyway, Flip and the babies all say hello (well the babies kinda babbled but I’m making the executive decision that those were hello babbles lol) We’re doing well and hope you are too! Sending you and yours love :)

#knightofdriver #cowboy answers

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themiscyra1983 · 4 years

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The Elephant In The Room

Let me preface all this by saying I do not have time for assholes. If you come at me with insults and contempt, I will block you.

The other day on Twitter I said the Harry Potter books aren’t good. I said this to a friend but I guess some people just keep an eye out for whatever Harry Potter shit pops up on Twitter and/or the algorithm just likes to spit in people’s eyes because hoooo boy people saw and lost their minds. I blocked two people over it because they decided to be assholes, and had a somewhat terse conversation with someone who was more politely insistent before going, finally, “I’m glad you find joy in something I no longer care for” and putting an end to the conversation.

It’s no particular secret that I’m in the fandom, and prior to J.K. Rowling going full, ‘no plausible deniability here’ transphobe, I’d bought my share of official merch. Frankly I should have stopped that sooner, but it took getting figuratively slapped in the face multiple times before I finally admitted Rowling’s ignorance carried a distinct air of willfulness and malice. Anyway I still HAVE the stuff I bought before, the Ravenclaw crap, the wands I was collecting (no more of that, I fear, though I’d hoped to pick up Tonks and Ginny’s wands at least before I brought an end to it), the Ravenclaw goblet I was gifted from a friend who bought it before JKR passed the plausibly just clueless horizon. There is still much in the world that I love, but much of that love comes now from the creations of others, and I cannot in good conscience spend money in ways that directly benefit Rowling’s financial empire.

And the Harry Potter books are not, in my view, good books. I’ve felt that for a while now. I’ll go a step further: I think they’re dangerous stories to tell children; I think I would be uncomfortable reading them to any children I might have. They are not stories that should be viewed without a critical eye. I loved them as a teenager. I’ve grown more uncomfortable with them - and, as with Twilight, far more comfortable with how critically thinking fans have transformed the work - as time has passed.

This actually has very little to do with the fact that, well...Rowling is not the best writer. Listen. I’m a Power Rangers fan. I’ve watched every incarnation of Star Trek, and every single movie. I have no problem with trashy fiction. You will find me rooting around in the garbage with the finest raccoons. But that is part of it, yes; there are flaws in the craft of it, and I don’t feel that, inherently, we needn’t judge children’s fiction by adult standards. I would argue that the very BEST children’s fiction is also excellent by adult standards. But this is the least of my concerns.

Here are my actual concerns.

Rowling wants credit for declaring Dumbledore gay after the fact, for saying Hogwarts is a safe space for all students in ways not reinforced (and in fact actively contradicted) by the text, for cheering the fan-created same-sex marriage of Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, but she doesn’t want to take the creative risks that go along with that. When she had the opportunity, with the Fantastic Beasts movies, to make that subtext text, she and her cronies outright declined it. At every opportunity she has shied away from actually putting her high-minded ideas to the page. This is a cowardly choice at best.

Further, Dumbledore’s only canonical love interest (and it is not clear whether the love was requited) was a pretty fascist with whom he fell in, politically, for a time. I get it, we’ve all had crushes on terrible people. But this is literally his one and only love, requited or not, and after he defeats Grindelwald he is left to pine away for the remainder of his days. The one gay love story in the books - if you tilt your head, and squint, and accept Rowling’s word for it - is a tragic one that leaves one man in prison and another celibate and alone and, increasingly, a manipulative bastard who upholds the status quo.

There’s nothing wrong with a tragic love story. I’ve enjoyed quite a few. But when this - THIS - is what you hold up as a triumph of representation, in the absence of ANYTHING else...no. No cookies for you.

Let’s also talk about how I don’t feel Rowling wrote Dumbledore or approaches him with a critical eye. There is NO excuse for leaving a child in an abusive home. No, fuck your blood wards. You’re telling me that Albus Dumbledore - ALBUS DUMBLEDORE - could not devise protections better than leaving Harry with abusive relatives who despised him and everything he stood for? Then, too, when Dumbledore did intervene in Harry’s life, he did so with full knowledge that he was setting Harry up to be a sacrificial lamb, AND WITH THIS SPECIFIC END IN MIND. None of this is acceptable. Dumbledore is a fucking manipulative, abusive bastard who uses people and throws them away, and the fact that it WORKED OUT for Harry does not absolve him of his crimes.

Moving on, and bear in mind I’m still getting my steam up on this whole rant: Seamus Finnegan. Seamus Finnegan is the one canonically, obviously Irish character in the books, named quite stereotypically, but more importantly, in the books and movies, is shown to be interested in (a) liquor and (b) making things explode. He’s REALLY GOOD at making things explode. Do I need to explain why it’s problematic for the one Irish character to blow things up all the time? He also does this in defense of UK wizardry’s status quo, so, you know, even if you were all IRISH FREEDOM FIGHTER YEAH, I assure you he is not that guy.

There is an entire species of sapient magical creatures who exist solely to serve witches and wizards. Hogwarts is run on slave labor and most of the finest wizard families hold slaves. But it’s all right! Only one of them has ever, in the context of the books, wished to be emancipated, and everyone else views Dobby as a weirdo for wishing to be free, and paid for his labor. Dobby, incidentally, later lays down his life for the wizarding savior who tricked his master into freeing him. The only other emancipated house elf we see in the books, Winky, spends her time in a state of drunken depression, rendering her useless and scarcely capable even of caring for herself. She wished to remain enslaved, do you see, and was helpless without the benevolent guidance of her master.

There’s fan work that has tried to address this by exploring a mystically symbiotic relationship between house elves and wizards and witches, and yes, yes, J.K. Rowling is drawing on European folklore here, but let’s not give her credit, okay?

Goblins. Goblins! Goblins have a long history of being antisemitic stereotypes to begin with (hence why I have seen multiple Jews on Tumblr push back HARD on ‘goblincore’), but J.K. Rowling just...right. They’re short, ugly, have hooked noses, generally look like antisemitic cartoon figures. They are locked out of power but control all the wizarding world’s banking, and do so in very usurious ways, for example charging wizards to hold their money, etc. Now this might be an interesting commentary on how Jews have historically been oppressed and forced into fields that goyim felt themselves too ‘pure’ to work in, were it not for the fact that Rowling’s fantasy Jews LITERALLY AREN’T HUMAN, and more, ARE ACTUALLY GREEDY, CONNIVING, AND WILLING TO BETRAY YOU AGAINST THEIR OWN SELF-INTEREST FOR PERSONAL GAIN. FUCKING GOBLINS, MAN.

Then there’s the travesty of Magic in North America, which disrespected the intelligence of Native Americans (none of them figured out you could point a stick at something to make the magic go until white people showed up to help, apparently, but don’t worry, they’re really CLOSE TO NATURE and GOOD AT NATURAL MAGIC), disrespected the beliefs of specific peoples (no, skinwalkers aren’t just misunderstood shapechanging wizards and witches smeared by the greedy and ignorant, you’re whitesplaining actual mythology to the people who hold it sacred), made the ONE wizarding school in America white with an appropriated Native veneer, and generally just...Did Not Get America. As bad as the UK Wizarding World is, Rowling demonstrated complete IGNORANCE regarding the long history of what we now call North America, ignorance of even modern American culture (there’s a reason why American fans particularly tend to ignore the idea that wizardry is locked down tight behind a wall of secrecy here), ignorance and disrespect toward Native populations, and an unwillingness to do the research necessary to do this shit right.

There’s more. There’s blood purity, and gender politics, and Severus Snape’s portrayal, and all kinds of shit that grates, and I’m just tired.

Writers make mistakes. it happens. But Rowling does not recognize her mistakes. She does not seek to make amends. She just barrels on with her shitty opinions, regardless of who she hurts.

it is at the point where I am no longer even willing to thank her for graciously allowing us to play in her sandbox. We don’t need her blessing; the OTW has done far more for fanfic than she has. And it is, indeed, beginning to grate on me that people constantly try to apply Harry Potter metaphors to real life and real politics. As my friend Doc often says, find another book.

I love butterbeer (or at least the knockoffs available outside the Universal parks), I still read fanfic sometimes, I still like to play with ideas like the Harry Potter movies as performed by Muppets, with Dan Radcliffe as Snape and Tom Felton as Lucius. I’m glad the movies brought us a generation of actors, mentored by performers like Alan Rickman and Maggie Smith and so many others, who have gone on to bigger and better things. Much of my merch is packed away, but I still hold on to some of it because it has new meaning for me in light of fanwork, or because (in the case of my Ravenclaw hat and scarf) it’s warm, winters here are cold, I don’t want to buy new shit, leave me alone.

I am accustomed to seeing fans turn trash into treasure. I’ve tried to do it myself. But I feel, quite strongly, that the original text in this case is trash. it is radioactive, stinky trash. You won’t persuade me otherwise, and I’m done apologizing for it. If Rowling wants me to respect her and her work again, she’ll have to earn it, but I’m very trans and she low-key hates my kind, so even if I weren’t a random reader I wouldn’t be holding my breath.

And I really, really need to emphasize to you all that it is okay if people don’t like a given work of fiction. It is okay if people HATE that piece of fiction. You don’t need to change the minds of everyone around you. You absolutely will not succeed in doing so. Please, I’m begging you, make peace with that - and please, I’m begging you, even if you like something, try to consider it critically.

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dustyembrace · 5 years

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I've decided to switch from #Goblincore

Hey. So there has been a TON of discourse in the goblincore community surrounding the harmful portrayal of Jewish people as goblins. For me, and for every other person I know who has identified with this culture of being "goblin" it has been absolutely nothing of the sort, and personally has actually helped me in so many ways.

Before I continue, I just want to say that this is in no way me saying that people who are uncomfortable with the goblincore community because of the antisemitic background of goblins should feel guilty or invalid in feeling such a way, nor am I trying to gain sympathy in talking about my past and current struggles. I also do not hope that this is seen as an excuse, but rather as an explaination, and furthermore, an apology. I would just like to clear the air a bit and explain why the goblincore community has been helpful to me as a way to further communicate to the Jewish community that this blog was never meant to be a form of aggression, mockery, or hate, (and why it has taken a little while for me to switch this blog's content.) Despite it being a good and loving community for me, as a goyim I know it so not my place to say what is and is not antisemitic, which is why I refuse to argue against the antisemitic connotation many feel it has. (The same way I can not define what is and is not racist, as I am white.) I do, however, feel like I need to give this community a proper goodbye.

So let me start by saying this: I used to feel really, really bad about myself because of how "weird" everyone told me I was.

One way that the goblin community has helped me feel okay, is in my weird habits. I've been "collecting" (or as the goblincore community calls it, "hoarding") since I was around 14 because I didn't have a lot of love in my life, and even fewer loving people, so finding things like stray marbles, pretty rocks, shiny bottle caps, etc was my way of putting love into things that I knew no one else would love. Because I knew what it felt like. But of course not many in my life would see it that way, and I was ridiculed by my family and friends for the excitement and happiness these tiny things gave me, as well as the love I expressed for these things. Being in the goblincore community made me realize I was not alone in this.

I have also had many issues with accepting interests and hobbies of mine, rather than seeing them as something embarrassing. Not only do I like to collect things that wouldn't matter to most people, but I also enjoy dressing up in the tackiest and ugliest clothes I can find. I like putting random colors of acrylic paint on my face in no appealing manner. I get so excited and happy at times that I don't know what to do other than jump and run and yell (what a lot of people call "going feral" which is something I know a lot of people in the goblin community do, and also the first place for me to learn and see this term.) As a goblin, I was allowed to like bugs, frogs, rats, and slimey things that people in my real life could not ever understand, but other people, who just happen to use the term "goblin" to describe themselves, did. These are all things that I used to hate myself for, wishing I didn't like doing these things and that they didn't make me as happy as they do so I could be "normal," but seeing other people loving to do the same thing and putting a word to them gave me confidence and comfort in doing them. I finally felt allowed to like things simply for the sake of liking them.

Though, goblincore has probably helped me most with my appearance. To be "goblin," you can be so not conventionally attractive, and it didn't matter in any way because goblin isn't about what you look like, it's about how you feel. To be "goblin," your body shape doesn't matter. Your height and weight (something I've been personally insecure about for as long as I can remember,) don't matter. You can get dirty and messy, and it wouldn't matter. You could have weird physical features and it wouldn't matter. These would all just be something else to add to the ever growing list of all things "goblin." On top of all of these things, the people in this community see nothing wrong with being "ugly," and can find beauty in the things society deems ugly. I've been struggling with body dysmorphia since last school year, but being in a community that made looking ugly and weird and different seem so okay, and even GOOD at plenty of times, in a way and to an extent I had never seen before asisted me in becoming more accepting of my body for what it is. I do of course still struggle with my appearance, but being in this community has helped me realize that it's okay to look the way I view myself. That it really REALLY doesn't matter.

To be honest...in a way, it was a way for me to escape the stressful ways of life. Appearance and money and society and people. As embarrassing as it is for me to admit, my brain created a whole fantasy world of being green with big, floppy ears, living in a swamp. A world where I don't have as unhealthy of a body as I do and that I could run and jump and climb like most people. It was a escape, and it helped me to de-stress BIG time.

And tumblr was the only place where I could express my extreme love for these countless little trinkets I keep in organized boxes and chests in my room and actually have people listen (and agree!). Tumblr was the only place I could talk about how all of these things most people deem "gross" were actually nice and made me happy. Tumblr let me share my drawings and idea of this fake world and my wacky clothing and I was finally alright with expressing these things instead of bottling them all up where the world couldn't ever see them.

I know this all probably sounds stupid to and will be dismissed by all of the people who don't get it. But it's the same reason some people age regress. It helps in some ways cosplaying and hyperfixating both do. And just because some people don't get it doesn't mean it's not valid.

It is because of all of these things that I will not judge anyone who chooses to stay in the community, and I would not ever send hate to anyone who does so. (Nor will I break mutuals!)

But I've been feeling so completely torn up by guilt for continuing this blog, as I know this blog is only where I express these things, and it's existence will not change how I view myself, nor how I live my life. But to think that the way I have chosen to express all of the weird things about myself no one has ever accepted before, and to think that the vocabulary I have chosen to put to my strange habits is also hurting other people, sending and spreading a harmful message, and making Jewish people think I am unsafe pains me. More than having to bottle this all up again would. At least until I find a better and more appropriate outlet (art, writing, something I can keep more to myself) to express these things.

It is this want I have for the Jewish community to feel comfortable online that I will be switching this blog away from being specifically goblin, to be a combination of naturecore, crowcore, and also some ghostcore (as I've been beginning to resonate with that now, as well,) as a way to do my own part to let Jewish people know they are accepted.

Thank you, Goblincore Community, for helping me feel okay in my own being and skin after all these years of struggling to do just that. I now know, that none of these things make me all that "weird," that I don't owe anyone an explaination as to why these things make me happy, and most importantly: that I am not alone. I will never forget the joy I felt the day I found this community and couldn't help but think, and ask, over and over again "There's other people like me?"

But it is time I find a way to express it differently and use non-harmful vocabulary in doing so. Thank you if you read this far.

- the kid formerly known as 'goblin-gum' on tumblr dot com.

(Please no discourse in the comments. I was very genuine, and I tried my absolute best to be respectful and kind to both view points in this post. If you think something I said was disrespectful in some way, please let me know so I can fix my error(s).)

#goblin-gum #goblincore #goblin culture #goblin #goblin hoard #goblins #goblin aesthetic #naturecore #forestcore #cottagecore #ghostcore #crowcore

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boogiewrites · 5 years

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Choking On Sapphires 80

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: 505

Summary: Genevieve comes home from the hospital. The journey to her recovery begins, but there are so many more things besides bruises and broken bones to worry about healing. Alfie tries to push back his own trauma from the event he's in denial over, and the whole house has to watch as things get worse before they get better. Song is 505 by The Arctic Monkeys.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Canon typical violence. References to assault and violence. Near death experiences. PTSD. Suffering/Physical Pain. Fluff.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Alfie had kept his word so far. Every time Genevieve would open her eyes to escape the mixture of horror and fantasy that kept circling in her subconscious in her sleep he would be there.

When the memories of what had happened would become less fuzzy, would creep into her dreams, he’d be there holding her hands as she fought out of the drug-induced slumber she felt held prisoner in to keep her from hurting herself. She’d make unsettling noises during her fits. Feet kicking and arms twitching and flailing as her face pained and winced, eyes rolling under their purple lids in the misshaped sockets for the violence she was reliving.

Sometimes the dreams would be pleasant though. An escape to another timeline where none of this had happened. She’d make hums of approval in her sleep, nuzzling into her pillow and it would make Alfie sigh with relief. She deserved some respite from this reality he thought, and he was happy she could find it. If she stirred his hand would always find hers. Even on the rare occasion, he’d be able to fall asleep, back aching and twisted in the chair by her bed he’d keep hold of her as if someone could steal her away without him knowing again. When she would wake from her pleasant dreams he’d be there with his ruffled hair and haggard face, a soft glance she’d meet as he’d stroke her swollen hands. She liked to touch his face in these tender moments they shared. The back of her hand, the knuckle of a finger lightly against his scaled features and wiry beard. She’d give him an affectionate smile, one he’d seen in the mornings before her eyes would close again, him placing her hand back onto the bed as it started to slowly lower when she fell back into her peaceful distraction.

Within a few days with no seizures or signs of internal bleeding, she’s given the go-ahead to be released. Instructions for her care are given to each Alfie, Claire, and Aggie as they were life-threateningly important. She was out of immediate harm from some things, but plenty could still go wrong. Alfie schedules home visits with the doctor ahead of time and even has Ollie hear the orders for her medicine. He was taking no chances at anyone that would be near her not knowing what the fuck they were doing.

With the state of her still being so very fragile, still multicolored from injuries and barely breathing without pain, although the morphine did help that part, she couldn’t exactly walk out on crutches for her twisted ankle. Alfie commandingly insists on being the one to handle her. She did admittedly respond best to him. He has her taken out of the hospital by a back entrance via wheelchair. He wanted all the details of her situation to remain a secret for now. No one that didn’t already know, needed to know how bad it was. He didn’t want word getting out to the community they were a part of, her students, here children at the home. He wanted to keep that ideal version of her alive and well, as he still had faith she would return to it one day.

Despite the fog she found herself in, she tried to keep her head up as they drove out of town. There was a distinct smell to the air and as they were on their way out of the city, the swirls of smoke could be seen in the rear view mirror.

He sees her focusing, her nose twitching like a rabbit. She raises her hand, a single finger pointed behind them with a subtle tilt of her head in question as she could still not speak.

“The smoke?” He asks.

She moves the pointed finger up and down as an indicator for her answer of yes so she didn’t have to nod.

“That was me, love.” He says with a noisy exhale, turning her head from it gently. “I had everything he owned burnt down and everyone in it killed.” He has no remorse and a fling of hunger for the day left in his eyes. “Seems me 'n Tommy’s men burnt down near half of fuckin London. For you, love. No one is gonna mess wif a Solomons. ‘Bout time us Jews started remindin’ these goyim what we’re capable of. Didn’t survive this fuckin long through slavery and oppression to lay down on the cusp of birth of fuckin' Nazi’s.” He shakes his head, brow low and lips tight as his mind only thinks of more things to worry about. He closes his eyes before turning back to her and kisses her forehead. “I’d set the whole fuckin' world ablaze for ya love. If I had to have ya live on a fuckin' island somewhere to escape the flames yeah? Nuffin else but you and ours matters now, eh? Now you lay your head down darlin' and have ya little lie down and I’ll keep ya steady 'til we get ya home, yeah?” He offers, having her place her head on his shoulder, his large hand cradling it and her hip like a baby in his arms. He rests his cheek against her hair and breaths her in, keeping his lips to her when he’d inevitably get emotional with her in his arms all small and helpless now. With the lack of sleep and the strain of the events of the past few days, he’d been a mess. He’d been moody, even more so than usual. He'd neglected himself entirely. Not eating or sleeping of his own doing, always thinking, always worrying. It was starting to take more of a toll on him than he would admit to himself. But he was blinded by his compulsion to protect his love. Following the advice to be delicate with her the best he could.

Her home wasn’t exactly wheelchair friendly, but Alfie certainly didn’t mind carrying her back into the house, the chair brought in behind them as he keeps his eyes on her in his arms, anyone else not existing as far as he was concerned when she was within his eyesight. He has pillows brought and piled high on the bed for her, a little bell for her convince on her nightstand. He leaves his cane by the bed to aid her when she would inevitably need to use the loo.

The time spent with her unconscious he’d spent wisely with Ollie. Preparations of his own taken for the business to keep moving along without him. Despite the always nervous young man’s suggestion to keep his affairs as usual to keep up appearances, he was met only with a smack to the face as he was reminded he needed to understand that Alfie's word was rule and the rules would be changing now. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his business, the tracks, the money, he still very much did. But for now, there would be a noticeable lack of Solomons around. He’d had his close call and it wasn’t going to take another one to make him see where he was needed. Ollie was a big boy and had been his second for years now. Ollie could handle it. At least until the threat against Gen’s well being was passed. But as the doctor had said, it was one day at a time.

The first step was to get her comfortable again. The bath proves difficult for both of them. He wanted her to feel clean, to smell like she had before the hospital, flowers instead of sterile. Neither of them spoke, Genevieve still having much difficulty doing so, and Alfie not wanting to say the wrong thing. His usual approach with humor to serious situations with her wouldn’t work his time and he didn't want to confuse the poor dear. As it turned out it was very easy to do in her currently still unstable state. She only makes sounds of pain when he touched her and his hurt shows on his face. She doesn’t meet his expression as she feels varied, swinging emotions as she’s faced with her naked body for the first time since being rescued. The bath water helps distort it, but she can tell even with her blurry eyes that there was plenty of distortion without the filter of waves from the water. Her swollen joints and skin that held reminders of the events that were still hazy to her, they were both left with undeniable proof that even if they didn’t know exactly what happened, that it had clearly been worse than either knew. For the first time in their relationship, they sat alone together in a heavy, uncomfortable silence. The things unsaid about the events that had unfolded sat like an invisible barrier between them, neither wanting to share how it truly made them feel. For the first time there was a disconnect between them, even Gen in her hazy mindset knew he looked at her differently, just as she was looking at herself. With a confusing mixture of pity and guilt.

Alfie does his best as the gentle touch she needs doesn’t come first nature to him. He brings her one of her favorite gowns, all silk and lace and slight enough to be able to keep watch on her injuries. But she makes a small sad noise and pushes it away when he brings it to her. She would’ve said she didn’t want something so lovely on this body, that it would only remind her of how she was before, but she couldn’t, and Alfie's expression remained puzzled. She didn’t need to try to be who she was before just yet. That version of herself was so far away, possibly even unobtainable now she felt. She wanted simple, to keep her mind calm. She needed comfort to offset the pain. She tugs on his shirt, damp from carrying her to bed. His intuition has never been such a highly valued skill to him as he retrieves one of his shirts from a chest of drawers and puts it on her gingerly, limb by limb. It smelled like him, it felt like him rubbing against her skin and let her chest bindings breathe. This is what she needed, not her silk and frills. Alfie sees a calmness take over her face as she strokes the fabric over her thighs. His darling needed him, needed comfort now. He had to attempt to let go of trying to do things his way. But that was never his strong suit.

After getting her set up in bed, she falls asleep quickly from the full day she’d already had in comparison to barely moving in the hospital. She sleeps soundly, seemingly heavy as she lies in a nest of pillows like a little bird.

He’s called from the bed, a phone call from Ollie already. He’s hesitant to leave her, but he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. He’d had the phone removed from her room to make sure her rest wasn’t interrupted by it. He wanted her in quiet and calm with nothing that could disrupt or startle her. So he agrees to leave for only a moment.

When he returns, trying to shed his annoyance for Ollie’s tendency to panic and over question his own decisions he finds the bed empty and panics. Flashes of the night she disappeared come to him, his heart in his throat as all the hairs stand up on his skin, an anxiety attack on the verge of blooming like a boy after the war. He had his own issues from the abduction to deal with it seemed.

He hears a pained sound, something like a hurt animal, and as he approaches swiftly he finds just that. His little kitten on the floor and struggling to breathe, the cane by her side. Her arms shook and failed time and time again to hold herself up as she cried with croaked grunts from her bruised neck.

He calls her name over and over, she keeps her eyes screwed shut, teeth clenched in pain as her hands cling desperately to his forearms. “Gen you stubborn thing.” he sighs. He shushes and coos, pulling her up against his chest and setting her back on the bed. His big warm hands on her face and hair, wiping away tears and he instructs her to slow her breathing. “That’s it love breathe slow. It’s only pain. Don’t let it make you afraid.” He says in a kind tone, a hand to her wrist to feel her pulse.

At last she opens her eyes, her breathing wheezy and her posture slumped from the pain in her ribs. She opens her mouth and tries to speak and he shakes his head, putting his thumbs over the rough, broken skin.

“Don’t try to talk.” He instructs sternly. “Catch your breath and I’ll fetch the paper after. No rush now is there?”

She gulps and continues moaning with every exhale, feeling overwhelmed. Her hand reaches out and points to the bathroom as her head spins.

“You were trying to get in there, eh?” He asks, brushing her hair out of her face and she wiggles her finger to indicate he was correct. “I had a call and left for just a moment, thought you were deep asleep. You know better than to try to walk yourself in your condition.” He voice grows weaker with his pushing back of his frustrations, feeling another wave of guilt wash over him. “You wait for me to help you, yeah? Don’t go tryin’ so hard alone. We’re not there yet.” He plants a kiss to her forehead, lingering there as her hands move to his forearms. He feels her breathing steady, her hands stop trembling and her rest her weight against him. “That’s a good girl, yeah?” He says with an affectionate and very light stroke to her back. “Ya needed to take a wee love?” He says with a more playful tone, holding her chin up as she answers with her eyes looking to the bathroom doorway. “Well, we can manage that now can’t we? Right. Let’s get ya up. Ya ready for your Alfie to carry you?”

She mouths yes and raises her arms slowly to around his neck. The soft nuzzle into him as he grunts and lifts her, babying her the entire way makes her feel better in the moment. He was there. He was staying through every ugly bit of it and she didn’t need to worry about him right now, only herself. Whoever that was presently. She felt like a different person or no one at all at times. The mix of head injury and medicine leaving her confused, disoriented, bewildered and to say the least, spacey most of the time.

After settling her back into bed, he can tell she’s hurting badly, little whines with every exhale as he settles in next to her. He gives her another small dose of medicine to take the edge off. He couldn’t stand seeing her in pain and knew inside her was nothing but. It was only the first day of her being home, of the official start to the road of recovery and he knew it was going to be harder than he had initially imagined. But what he hadn’t expected was for it to be far worse before it got better.

Sleeps takes her quickly. She’s sucked into a dark undertow and deep into a very vivid dream. She comes to with a blink, as if she had been plunked into this new place. The first thing she notices is that there is no pain. A warm sun hits her skin which after inspection looked to be blemish free, her hands only wearing a wedding band and diamond ring and no bandages.

“Papa!” She hears, her head quickly turning towards the sound and having no dizziness from it. She’s surrounded by large green hedges that are dotted with flowers. They rise too tall for her to see over, but she can clearly hear the laughter of children beyond them. With fingertips dragging on the surface of the thick bushes as she walks, she follows the path before her and hears the laughter, sprinkled with the sound of birds throughout it. “Mama!” She hears called out, and she somehow knows the happy sound is for her. Her bare feet move quickly over the well-kept paths, a sense of happiness, of joy as she moves to a jog, her dress soft against her legs as she moves.

She emerges from the maze to a wide open garden of grass, trees and ivy wrapped lattice, bird baths and statues along the space that was nestled in the valley of a yellow-green rolling hillside the tall grass swaying in the distance. A young child runs in front of her, catching her attention.

She quickly hitched up her dress and chases after, running through the garden. One child disappears behind a corner, to reveal two as she rounds it as well.

“Mum!” She hears an older girl laugh, her long dark hair swishing and a crown of flowers atop of her head as she moves with the small child. Another corner, another child, all seeming to be different. All in their own little clothes, varying heights, hair colors, and styles. She chases around the hedge maze until there are five of them, then they move as a small herd, the older ones helping the younger as they fall and squeal.

She calls out for them in her pursuit. But their faces stay hidden from her. Even she stumbles, the soft, dark auburn hair of a little boy in shorts moving just out of reach. She comes back into the clearing, a white house now at the other end of the stretch of grass and an easily recognizable man standing with his little glasses on his nose, cane in hand, and a lovely booming voice calling out for her.

———

“Genevieve!” Alfie shouts as Aggie rushes out of the room and to the phone. “Wake up love, come now, stay with me.” His voice breaks as he holds her in his arms, his panic pulsing through his exhausted body.

He’d noticed her fall so still, not resting himself as her little tumble earlier had shaken him up. As the night went on she grew far too still for his liking, he could no longer see her chest moving up and down and that had sent the shouting and panic throughout the house that they sat in now. Her pulse was there but weak, his eyes wild and voice so angry as Aggie told him the doctor was on his way.

————

“Chanah!” Alfie's warm voice calls out to her. A sense of rightness, of contentment, follow as the small herd of children also hear him and let out their various sounds of approval as they head towards him ahead of her.

“Ari!” She calls out with a beaming smile.

“Papa!” One of the boys responds as he stumbles on his still young legs towards the inviting outstretched embrace of Alfie.

————-

“Ari.” Genevieve’s voice is a whisper, if he hadn’t been holding her head to his he would’ve missed it. He chokes back tears as he kisses her face and holds her hand, once again not thinking about having to let her go once the doctor arrived.

———-

The five children like broken stair steps range from an older girl, probably a teenager to a young boy and girl who looked to be barely even 6. The girls had bows and flowers in their hair and the boys had grass stains on their pants and messy hair. They looked a portrait of perfect to her. They kept moving just out of reach of Genevieve’s hands, the dreamscape making the run to meet Alfie go on for so long, and her frustration grew. She began feeling desperate to touch them, to feel them and know they were real, to see their faces and tell them sweet, loving things. But they kept out of her reach and she kept stumbling towards them with now filthy feet from the ground.

With the edge of the back porch of the house reached by the kids, Alfie ruffles their hair and looks a picture of a proud father. A little girl in his strong arms, her face buried in his neck as he laughs at another small boy wrapping his little arms around his leg. For a moment the thought crosses Genevieve’s mind that this might be heaven.

With the thought the oldest turns, her face coming into view now. She was strikingly beautiful. With dark hair dotted with flowers, the same Genevieve had been chasing earlier, and similarly, as the girl just a touch shorter than her who stood next to her, face still toward her father.

“Mum.” The girl says with a sweet voice that came from lips that looked like Alfies, Gen’s large eyes looked back in their mirrored image over the same rounded nose with Alfie's stormy blue pupils looking back at her.

“Yes, cheri?” Genevieve responds with a fluttering of her heart in her chest as the girl steps closer.

“I’m sorry.” She says with a kind smile.

Genevieve is confused, their hands reaching out, just a hair's width from touching.

“Chanah!” She hears Alfie shout, her head whipping fast to him as he motions her to come towards him, children still swarming him.

She gives a nod and a smile and moves to turn back to the girl but as fast as she’d turned her head, she was gone. She could almost feel the heat from her hand when it had almost slid into her own. She looks around, startled and upset, wondering where the lovely girl had gone.

“She’ll be alright, love.” Alfie says, motioning her towards him, he's missing his usual assortment of jewelry. Only a gold wedding band on his aged hand with it's faded crown tattoos. The little girl in his arms puts her own around his neck and squeezes. “Not time to meet her yet.” He says with an almost cheerful disposition. “You’ve still got to meet the others.” He says, turning and bouncing the girl, the boy now sitting on Alfie's foot as he walks with a waddle. The older girl that was left now walks with the older boy under her arm, rubbing his back affectionately as they move toward the house. Gen turns to look around the garden, still worried about the girl who disappeared. “Chanah!” Alfie calls out and she ignores it, feeling her heart race and her breath shorten. “Chanah love, come back to me!” His voice sounds different now. More demanding. “Chanah!” He shouts again with anger and she turns to look his way, a sharp dizziness taking her over as it feels like an omniscient hand yanks her from where she stands.

Her eyes open back into the reality Alfie had been dealing with while she was having her most curious experience.

“Chanah! Fuckin ‘ell girl ya gonna kill me wif 'is.” He says bending over her body on the bed.

She tries to say his name and only gets out “Ah-“ as is standard.

“Shhhh catch your breathing up love. Ya medicine put ya a bit too far under. Had to pull ya out of it dinnit I?” He holds her like a child as her eyes with their mixed pupil sizes loll around in her head.

“W-wuh-“ She grunts out.

“Hand us the paper there Agatha.” Alfie instructs, holding the ice water they’d been applying to her skin for past few minutes. “Ya need somethin'?” He asks, putting the pen gently into her hand.

“Ch-chi-“ She stutters and rasps, writing ‘children?’ On the pad.

“What are you on about love? There’s no children.” He doesn’t hide the confusion on his face as he turns to the doctor for answers.

“She’s most likely having trouble distinguishing real life with dreams as she comes out of it. Fairly common occurrence.” He says with a flat delivery.

“There’s no children, love.” Alfie whispers softly.

She whimpers, writing ‘where are the children?’ again as Aggie starts to cry at the state her lovely Genevieve was in. She thought of her as her own and seeing her suffer in any way, especially in a way she could not help hurt her deep down into her soul.

“There’s no children, love.” Alfie says with a more stern delivery, as she sweats and groans in his arms, wanting to struggle to get back to that lovely place but she’s so weak. Each toss of her head sends nausea flooding over her, her eyes showing white as the room spins. Nausea gives over to actual vomiting as Alfie leans her over the side of the bed where a bucket sat just for such an occasion. He shoots another questioning glance to the doctor.

“Also very common.” He nods. “Could be her stomach rejecting the excess medication, could be from the head injuries. Severe dizziness is common in cases such as these. It will pass.” His bedside manner wasn’t the best, but his reputation was and Alfie could easily forgo a sugar-coated delivery for fast facts.

“Let it out, love.” He says softly, rubbing her back and keeping her hair out of her face. This was worse than any other time he’d seen her sick whether from drink or violence. The sounds that escaped her were gruesome and churned his stomach just as much as hers was.

But the sounds faded, she passes out again, limp in his arms like a classical painting of tragic lovers. He holds her close, keeping her warm as she chills, speaking to her as she groans and shifts in her unrest. All this was reminding him of the war. The constant feeling the other shoe was going to drop at any moment, the tension and paranoia. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely allow himself to blink, lest she take a turn for the worst. Deep sleep and shallow breathing were part of the new medication she was on. He could’ve been told that one hundred more times but it didn’t make the terror that shot through his core when he thought her dead any easier to handle. Or the frustration he felt at the strong rise and fall of his own emotions he was not accustomed to.

She sleeps, but it is not peaceful. Her mind trying to rewire and heal, skipping and making missed connections, leaving her in a disturbing mix of memory and dream inside her own head. He stays up, swearing to himself she would not fail because of him. He kept watch like an ancient guardian relic over her. A slumped and bent, red-eyed and scaled skin gargoyle over her in the dark of the room, the fire casting them in uncanny low light. The sight of them was frightening, and only Agatha and Claire dare enter the room.

The two women, shunned by Alfie in his slow descent into madness it seemed watched on helplessly. Claire was by far the most optimistic of them all. She recalled Gen’s brother after the war and knew things like this happened. Setbacks were all part of the road to progress.

“Although you might think it insensitive of me to say so, I can’t help but look upon this scene as she would if she were us right now.”

“What do you mean dear?” Aggie says with a wrinkled nose.

“The lighting, the love, the tragedy. She’d be a big enthusiast of this would she not? The drama and aesthetic. I only wish I could capture it for her.”

“Why on earth would you want to recall this hellish night?” Aggie’s confusion clear in her voice.

“Because I know she’d think it would make a lovely painting,” Claire replies with a sigh, an almost happy look on her face as she watched on from the darkened hallway. “Gen would find the beauty in this madness. Since she can’t...we must.” She says confidently with a nod.

“That’s a beautiful point dear. We would all be best to keep it in mind the coming days. I fear this is not the end of the ugliness of recovery.”

“It is not. And we will. We will tell her of this when she’s better. And she will be. But healing from this will be unpleasant. She’s strong but not inhuman. We know what those men did to her, and when she remembers I don’t know how she’ll respond. We could be looking at another wave of rebellion again like last time.” Claire’s lips pursed.

Agatha sighs and slumps. “I hope for everyone’s sake you’re wrong.”

“Oui. So do I.”

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bubblewrapjunkie · 5 years

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Reading that Polygon article about the Critical Role kickstarter and I am hashtag tired. For the record, I think the whole premise of the article is shaky at best, but if we are to take the critique presented at face value, then I have some counter points, seeing as it seems they have a lot of Opinions™ about how Critical Role (who has existed as a fully independent enterprise for all of, like, a month since they moved the main show off the G&S stream to their own channel) operates.

1) If anyone is to be critiqued about the cast being white, why isn’t it Felicia Day and Geek & Sundry? They were the ones who “hired” the cast in the first place. Shouldn’t they have insisted on a more diverse cast when they took on The Critical Role team? Shouldn’t they have broken this private friend group up and held auditions to find a Token Black Friend to begin with?

2) Why isn’t Polygon critiquing TAZ, a dnd podcast that features TWO OF THEIR FOUNDERS, with a party consisting of four straight white men and zero women, PoC or members of the lgbtq community (CR checks two of those boxes, but who’s counting)? I mean, since personal relationships prestream are clearly irrelevant, who fucking cares that this was a family activity meant to tighten their bond and do something fun together that happened to take off? Where is the representation?? (clearly, the representation in the actual gameplay is also irrelevant since the article doesn’t mention any of it in regards to the Critical Role campaign - so sorry to anyone who feels represented by, let’s say Taako or Lup for instance - you are actually Wrong™).

3) Why is Polygon equating a kickstarter for an animated show based on original characters with kickstarters for ttrpg’s? Do they also equate rowboats and sawmills? They both need wood at some point...?

4) Why wasn’t Polygon critiquing the former kickstarter champion MST3K for their lack of cast diversity when they got funded? Surely that kickstarter was pulling focus and funds from smaller shows too? Or some indie game featuring robots, which clearly suffered because there is only so much money people will spend on robot-related media, and all of that media is the same. There is also no way a person can be a supporter of multiple things, fyi.

5) Why aren’t we demanding that any band consisting of friends who are only men/straight people/white people start replacing members or adding new ones once they make it big? They have money now! They are in the spotlight! Why doesn’t Arctic Monkeys replace Alex Turner with a black trans woman? Why is no one taking their responsibility???

6) Why aren’t Polygon critiquing The Try Guys for still being four dudes after leaving Buzzfeed? They are in control now! They have their own company! Why haven’t they kicked Ned and Keith out and replaced them with FEEEMAAAALLLEEEESSS? What’s with this obsession with “friends before it became a corporation”? WHY ARE ALL OF THESE ENTITIES STILL NOT WOKE???

7) Does the writer of the article share the fee he was paid to write it with the developers of whatever word processor he uses to write it? I mean, I can only assume so, since he thinks that CR should share their kickstarter funds with (their sponsor) WoTC???

All ranting aside, I don’t claim that Critical Role is without its faults, and the goal should always be to do better. The cast is (depending on your views on Judaism and ethnicity and I am goyim and not touching that with a ten foot pole) all white. And the conversation that this article could have opened up is an important one. But it falls apart because the piece is so sorely lacking in nuance and seems very poorly researched overall, but especially in regards to how the CR cast handle their “lack of diversity”. There is no mention anywhere of any of the PoC who have guested on the show or of the overall narratives in the stories or characters presented. This is written in bad faith and thus it derails the conversation completely.

In due time my hope is for a secondary campaign with a more diverse cast, but it currently seems like people have conflated CR having a successful kickstarter with CR being a full fledged million dollar multimedia conglomerate with endless resources. Lest we forget, this is also a crew in which all of the main players HAVE OTHER JOBS and very limited time - so until they’ve firmly found their ground as an independent company it might be a bit premature to demand that they hire a bunch of new content creators on the spot. Hopefully they can (and should) soon, but fuck me if they aren’t getting really harshly scrutinized in comparison to a lot of companies doing a lot less to try and represent diversity to the best of their abilities.

#Critical Role #CR kickstarter #I am tired

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convervative-blog · 5 years

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essay preparation, Conservative Judaism: Our Ancestors To Our Descendants by Elliot M. Dorff

alright buds gonna go thru this book, theres chapters and then like essay questions, so im here reading the chapters then answering the essay questions. im fucken ignorant as shit so this is all my stupid opinions that im still developing and it might change as i learn more idk. enjoy, lots of surprise-zionism in here skip if thats not ur thing

I. yes services start early morning we do prelims then shacharit torah & musaf then kiddush congregants range in ages from young to elderly (predominantly older tho) and in observance from super frum (ok like 5 of us lol) to basically secular & very pluralistic no one cares, very close-knit, "maritime personality disorder" very evident, love it

II. never studied at yeshiva or went to hebrew school, looking into doing so (u know when), actually the reason i picked up this book, im inherently drawn to like childrens resources (this is a highschool level book but u get it) bc as an adult i missed out on jewish child education, so im drawn to childrens resources to "learn from the start" so to speak

III. parents are gentiles, no jewish identity really, grandma resolutely denied being a jew though got 'mistaken' for one almost daily due to last name and appearance, 'corrected' people constantly, got bullied for it (i say grandma but its still patrilineal dont @ me), she didnt know anything about judaism and was frequently antisemitic and firmly catholic

IV. conservative judaism means that halachic rules are binding but that they should and must be interpreted via the lens of the society in which we live, in order to reduce suffering and increase overall observance (e.g. women, lgbt+, accessibility), conservative judaism also means an affordance of leniency in individualistic expressions of obligatory mitzvot

V. emancipation occurred from 1776-1880, within western europe (france holland england) during the rise of nationalism jews were considered naturalized citizens of their respective countries & not foreign outliers, allowed to serve in army etc but had negative impact bc jews at the time began to lose their jewish identity whilst adopting goyische practices (ref. assimilation)

VI. absolutely and i fully intend on making aliyah, learning and speaking hebrew is nourishing for my soul, its an internal secret of mine that “magneto was right” u know, “does mainstreaming work?” and like, i say this not bc i believe jews should be separate (or even that jews should immigrate to israel) but in the interest of jewish protection and continuation, is mainstreaming going to contribute to jewish protection and continuation? mainstreaming needs to include existence. u cant mainstream two groups if one group is only accepted when they dont exist as themselves. “jews and gentiles can exist together! but u better show up to work on yom kippur.” jews deserve self-determination and to have the opportunity to live in their homeland which is the only safe place on earth for jews to publicly and fully express their judaism, to go to a school where they can safely and publicly express their judaism, to go to a synagogue where they can safely and publicly express their judaism, to go to a job where they can safely and publicly express their judaism. u tell me where that is, is it where u live? thats the downfall of mainstreaming, bc sure jews can assimilate but what u see is that ppl who arent jews will only interact with them if they renounce their judaism. sure u want to say jews and goyim living side by side respecting one anothers practices is the ideal, absolutely im "pro mainstreaming" for those ideals, but be practical! that shit aint never gonna happen, dont sacrifice yourself and ur family and ur friends for an academic concept that has never manifested itself in reality

VII. the advent of secularism! secularism is super appealing. movies! tv! books! music. mixed dancing as it were. all the things considered heretical bc they could curse g-d, but appealing on a neurological level. who doesnt wanna sit down and binge drop dead diva for 9 hours, its not me buds. so ofc many orthodox peeps would be drawn to it, but in the interest of maintaining their practices and beliefs, new movements would necessarily sprout up in response

VIII. assimilation occurred bc the advent of secularism drew alot of observant jews away from their practices and subsequently their identities, it was more appealing to be a citizen (a "german" not a "jew") bc it afforded them rights and privileges and goys would interact w them on an equal level, as long as they didnt express being jewish too much, or used their jewishness in a self-deprecating kind of way (alot of jewish comics got famous like this, ppl love listening to jews self-deprecate and in a downward shifting economy u gotta get it where u can get it)

IX. the differences between halacha in orthodox judaism and reform judaism? oh boy well today, because reform judaism looked totally different in the 1800s guys (most american jews were reform, which is why american jewish culture was so radically separate from european jewish culture and far more secular), but at the core orthodoxy believes halacha as it was written and interpreted (and as it continues to be interpreted and debated) is binding, no ifs ands or buts. u can find reasons why things can and cant be done but its always within the established halacha. reform judaism doesnt consider halacha binding but essentially “refers” to it as they develop their individual practices (”im a woman but im not gonna cover my hair if i get married bc blah blah blah” might be a reform opinion, its deciding not to follow the law, but its still referencing the law) and is exponentially more concerned with the idea of jewish peoplehood, identity, nationality, history, outside the world of torah. (yes? no? this is all shit i was spoonfed by 1 guy so like?)

X. im writing a fucken essay on this man. need to chill out and condense. get my opinions in order. orthodoxy is appealing bc most ppl will believe the same shit u do and put the same weight on it, conservatism is more pluralistic/individualistic, definitely more secular, even tho i wholeheartedly agree with this & practice it in my life, the art of letting people do their own shit without judging them, the art of welcoming ppl into ur space despite their diverging belief systems, just: sometimes u can feel kind of silly when u know ppl probably dont take as literal interpretations as u do. strengths of reform individualism, pluralism, activism, diversity, influx of new opinions/thoughts, ppl talk to me about this i know very little about reform judaism dont get mad at me pls. weaknesses uhhhhhh lol am i gonna go there on tumblr.com 2day... weaknesses i guess would be that its not taken as seriously by outsiders? is that acceptable/right?

endin here for now!

#op #orthodox #reform #conservative judaism #conversion #judaism #theology #israel #zionism

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sophieakatz · 4 years

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Thursday Thoughts: Something Worth Celebrating

Here’s a brief bit of holiday irony for you:

The “holiday season” is a time of year during which goyim – Christian and atheist alike – are especially active about trying to convince Jews to join in on the fun and be like everyone else.

“No one should be alone at Christmas!” they say as they encourage us to assimilate. “This is a special time of year!”

Sometimes these probably-well-meaning goyim recognize that this time of year might be special to Jews for a reason other than Christmas. They expect that we Jews at the very least must be celebrating in some big way for Chanukah, if not Christmas.

Really, Chanukah is the one Jewish holiday that goyim are most likely to know of and ask Jews about. Never mind Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, Pesach, Sukkot, or Purim – THIS holiday happens at the same time as Christmas, so it’s the only one the goyim have noticed, and consequently it’s the one they assume is most important to us!

But what exactly do Jews celebrate at Chanukah? What moment in history do we commemorate in this holiday that goyim assume is so important to us?

Answer: we’re celebrating a time when a bunch of goyim forced us to assimilate into their culture… and so we killed them! Hooray!

Assimilation is an unavoidable topic for me this time of year. As I wrote earlier this month, goyim tend to act like there’s something wrong with Jews if we don’t enjoy Christmas. And while I don’t have any intention of mimicking the Maccabees and murdering my oppressors, I still wish that they would just... stop acting like everyone in the world is and should be like they are.

Yesterday I gave myself a challenge - an experiment in courage, if you will. I told myself that every time someone at work told me “Merry Christmas,” I would reply, “Thanks, Happy Chanukah!”

If you only know me through my online persona, then you might be surprised to learn that for the first few hours of the day I struggled with this challenge. I am much more outspoken in text than I am in person. My gut response to the endless “Merry Christmas”es of this week each year is to grin awkwardly and stammer “you too,” feeling unseen in the face of their assumptions and complicit in my own erasure. I envy the safety of Christonormativity as much as I shy away from its inherent close-mindedness. I’ve often wished that I “could” just say “Happy Hanukkah” to strangers, that I “could” be free to assume that anyone around me would be happy to know that I was Jewish.

This year it finally hit me - why shouldn’t I just say “Happy Chanukah” to strangers? If they’re free to comfortably assume that I want to hear about their holiday which is on this day, then why shouldn’t I be free to comfortably assume that they want to hear about my holiday which is on this day?

As Rabbi Hillel put it, “If not now, when?”

Overall, the challenge went better than I expected it to. After my first few quiet, hesitant attempts, “Happy Hanukkah” became the response that casually leapt to my tongue. Most of my guests just kept walking, evidently not expecting me to say anything in response to their “Merry Christmas.” Nobody reacted in a particularly negative way, though I’m sure I caught a lot of people off-guard. One person laughed a bit uncomfortably and said, “Ooh, nice!” Another person replied, “Yes, and Kwanzaa!” while another said, “Oh, right, happy holidays!” as though suddenly reminded that not everyone does the Christmas thing.

My coworkers, who mostly already knew that I’m Jewish, tended to grin and say, “Sorry, Happy Hanukkah!” One whom I don’t know very well got a bit hesitant and suggested that we say “Happy everything” instead of being specific. I discovered that one of my coworkers was also telling everyone “Happy Hanukkah,” not because she was Jewish (she isn’t), but because she wanted to be different. This made me laugh; it struck me that her actions were normalizing the expression of my religion in public. The specificity from her and the others who said “Happy Hanukkah” made me feel a little less alone, in a way that being told “Merry Christmas” or even “Happy Holidays” has never worked towards that goal.

A couple days ago, I read a fanfic about a character celebrating Hanukkah with her adoptive family and Christmas with her friends. Along the way, she discovers that one of the side characters is Jewish, and invites him home with her to light the menorah.

At the end, the first character resolves to invite the Jewish character along again for the subsequent nights, thinking, “No one deserved to be alone on the holidays.”

This story hit me a lot harder than I expected it to, mainly because of that line. Of course I’ve heard people say that I shouldn’t be alone this time of year before. Goyim say it all the time. But when they say it, what they mean is that I should be celebrating Christmas with them. This fanfic took a character who is only seen in canon celebrating Christmas with his friends, and says that he doesn’t deserve to be alone with the goyim this time of year. He deserves to be with his people instead, if he wants to be.

Between my family (whom I’ve always had but are currently miles away from me) and my growing community of synagogue friends, I’m less “alone with the goyim” than I’ve been in a long time. I’m grateful for my community, and fulfilled by it. We don’t need to be like everyone else in order to be happy.

That’s what Chanukah’s really about, for me - the idea that we don’t need to say “thank you” to the people who think we should assimilate and be “not alone,” that instead we deserve to be “not alone” with other Jews, celebrating our culture in public.

At one point yesterday, a family including a man wearing a kippah came past me. As they walked by, I said, “Chag sameach!” The man did a double-take, and then he grinned at me, laughing a bit as he said “Thank you!”

And in that moment, we were both of us not alone on the holidays. And that’s something worth celebrating this time of year.

Chag urim sameach, everyone!

#hanukkah #chanukah #judaism #christonormativity #goyim #thursday thoughts #irony #snarky #assimilation

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