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flyingcatstiel · 3 years

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1of2 Tired of metas blaming executives / defending writers. Writers can write horrible endings. Proof - GOT, HIMYM, Lost etc. Executives didn't force those bad endings. Reading all these conspiracy theories feels like I am listening to Trump. Executives are homophobic but ok with incestous ending? I asked my SO (who never watched SPN) to watch SPN final with me. I quote him "didn't you say they are brothers. It almost looks like they are going to kiss - Ewww - is this what you want me to watch?"

2of2 Even if we look at bottom line - Executives - apparently don't care the fact that Destiel was trending FIRST world wide - in middle of pandemic, middle of historic US elections - such free publicity to gain more viewers and money - but they care about incestous endings which grossed out lot of people. I wish these metas and conspiracy theorists stop baiting people and stop defending writers. Even before covid - Dabb had intended for this bad ending with proof that only 30% will like it.

Oh, nonnie. If you have sent this just 2 days ago, I’d be there with you, all salty about metas defending writers. Today tho, after going through some serious posts about the CW involvement with the show, about Russian market, about professional dubbing practices I have my thoughts in different order.

So, from what I’ve seen so far (barely past midnight November 26 in the US as of writing this). Jensen went to re record audio stuff for 15x18, most likely Cas confession scene. Now we have info from Latin America (2 separate dubs) that Dean actually reciprocated Cas’s love declaration and only after that The Empty took Cas. Nonnie, this changes everything. The first thing so many viewers noticed and commented on was the weird way the scene was cut and how little emotions Dean showed. The running gag on twitter was that Jensen is homophobic and Misha strong-armed him into that scene. Non shipper said that it was platonic love declaration from Cas, coming out of nowhere. But most importantly, we, shippers were robbed from proper celebration of our ship going canon. After 12 years of sticking with the ship, they still took it from us. This is totally on the CW shoulders.

But also, this means that destiel was at some point greenlit by the executives to be reciprocated in canon. Until someone at the CW backpaddled in late September. The writers are not responsible for this, they are victims of these changes as well. Dean’s answer changes the emotional beats of several scenes in 15x19 in addition to the scenes that were cut. 15x19 has that strange montage at the very end which most likely was added to cover cut scenes, say like Lucifer, Jack and Cas scene in the empty? Because if Misha was in 15x19, that would mean that the prank call was never meant to be his last contribution. I mean, the disrespect to the fans, the writers and Misha, all in one episode.

And then there’s 15x20 which looks so weird that a lot of fans immediately said that it is a butchered episode. Thing is, we have no idea what kind of script was written pre covid, how much it was changed and when, and how much was cut out from filmed episode. I’ve seen posts sayin that the script for 15x20 was still in rewrites when they finished filming for 15x18. Which is very, very late for a shooting script. I personally think that Dean’s death was the thing Jensen disliked so much, but even then - we don’t know how it was framed in earlier scripts and how they arrived at that horrific scene in 15x20.

I’m not saying that SPN writers are the most amazing TV writers out there, and I look forward times when we will be able to discuss all problematic stuff SPN is filled to the brim with, but. We just don’t know what exactly happened in the SPN writing room and how much executives meddled with it. COVID happened. Nothing of this is normal. This is why the most important thing right now is to pressure the CW for some answers. Look at them throwing Misha under the bus today. That tells you bunches how well they know fandom and how to manipulate us.

Now about that incestuous scene, aka Dean’s death, and why homophobic executives would be OK with it but not canon destiel. Under the cut we go, mostly for space reasons.

Ok, this is so funny but I actually just finished writing my second answer about wincest in 15x20 and had problems posting it and that’s how I learned that we broke tumblr and destiel went canon in spanish. Here’s my post, check it out bc I’m not repeating it here.

I think wincest, aka incest between two able bodied, adult male brothers is something casual viewer outside the fandom is not even thinking about. If it was sister/brother deal with intimate embrace, people would notice faster. But two masculine, 6 ft tall macho dudes during the death scene? Nope. Here comes plausible deniability which viewers also use to ignore anything “funny” between Dean and Cas. I’m glad that you and your partner noticed incest vibes, but, I’ve see plenty people even in destiel fandom being fine with such scenes between Sam and Dean. I’ve seen some destiel fans saying that they really loved 15x20, so, there are viewers out there for whom it worked.

Now let’s look at the bottom line. TBH, I’ve no idea where to look? Where is the projected revenues for a show that is ending? You say that Destiel trending during pandemic is a proof that our fandom is huge, but. No one knew that we had such power! And trending on twitter is not something that translates into money easily. And it happened 2 weeks before finale. There’s no time to change finale anymore. I personally think that destiel fandom has been shrinking for past couple of years, since so many folks left due to bad writing and queerbaiting. But they came back for tweeting. At this point destiel is bigger than it’s fandom. I personally think that the CW would have benefited from canon destiel, but they made different call.

I agree with you that in general, fandom should not defend the writers so much and ought to be more critical about the stuff they write, but today, November 26, 2020, the game is happening on completely different plane. I’m pretty sure that we got a butchered finale, and I’m very much inclined to believe that it is somehow connected to their efforts to promote The Walker show. Maybe Dabb’s original finale was really bad, but show me the script then. If destiel was supposed to be reciprocated, then they might have gone overboard with bro love in Dean’s death scene. Only now, when destiel was one-sided, that scene becomes very wincesty seemingly on purpose. A good creative writing, in it’s finished form, is a very tightly woven fabric. You pull out some threads, you unravel whole fabric. And that’s what 15x20 is.

2 days ago I’d be roasting metas who defend spn writers, today I want to storm the CW. (pitchforks anyone?) Destiel shippers were robbed, queer love story was censored, this should be the focus of or anger today, not the writers or actors. We can do both - demand truth about the Cas confession scene and roast original Dabb’s ending if we ever get it.

ETA - after writing this up, I checked out some posts by blogs who debunk all conspiracies, including Spanish dub. They sound very convincing! But in that case we have to talk about long term queerbaiting that was taking place on this old CW show till the very last minute. Cas was used in promos for 15x17 he was not in. They (ppl who make promos) deliberately used Cas barn scene from 4x01 in those promos, then actual barn in 15x20 promo but somehow it is shippers who are delusional? Don’t start me on Song of the day. Angel with a shotgun for 15x19? What was that about? After 15x18 there was no official goodbye to Cas which made ppl to watch finale. Like? Even if the Spanish dub gets officially debunked by the CW and not some random blogs, we are left with the fact that destiel fandom was gaslighted during the last stretch of s15. And not only by writers.

And if this was the finale they so lovingly crafted and deemed to be good, where are the celebration of the SPN ending? Why we had to watch documentary before the episode? Why 15x20 was so short? Why Canada watched the episode first (and leaked spoilers online) They filmed after quarantine, the script had to be the usual length. And so on, fandom has been through all the things that didn’t match several times already. PITCHFORKS -> the CW

#anons #flyingcatstiel has thoughts #spn finale is a gift that keeps on giving #15x18 #15x20 #andrew dabb #te amo #wincest for ts #///#i'm putting this in the queue #and I'll try to reblog more stuff re this issue #scroll down and read my tags #destielgate #PITCHFORKS

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mikialynn · 3 years

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2020 Reflection

I haven’t been great about completing my reflections the past couple of years. Parts of them do exist, and I will create finished versions. However, 2020 is a year that I absolutely cannot miss reflecting on. Especially since it seems at any moment these days, something significant and perspective-altering can just happen. So I want to preserve where I am right at this moment.

At a historical level, on a global scale, 2020 has been the most important year I have ever lived through. The events of the past year have been on a scale that is so immense, I feel like I can’t even connect with them most of the time. But then there are flashes where it hits – where I have a digestible bit of life experience that taps me into the larger emotional current. And it overwhelms and terrifies me just long enough to push it away again.

We are approaching two million deaths in the world, with thousands dying every day. California has ordered dozens of refrigerated trucks just to hold the overflow of dead bodies. I have for the first in my life experienced truly believing that my parents might die within the year. I’ve had to sit through several instances where the chances of them being exposed were high and just hold my breath waiting for the events to unfold. It reminded me a bit of that stomach-dropping moment I realized I could have contracted rabies, and that it was a fatal situation if left untreated. Only this wasn’t for myself, this was for people I love, and for a virus that had no vaccine or guaranteed treatment, and so it came with added layers of helplessness, fear, and frustration.

We have an unbridled President stoking division in the country for a power-grabbing, personal-gain agenda that is unprecedented. It’s a reality you can’t help but shake your head to in disbelief thinking this just can’t exist in this day and age in this country. And yet there it is. Confederate flags in the Capitol. The inflammatory speeches. The unchecked, unabashed lies. The shockingly amoral willingness to appeal to people with such twisted, racist, fearful views of people and the world. The childish recklessness of undermining a democracy just to deflect and rationalize a loss.

We had the Black Lives Matter protests erupt across the nation. Unlike the Women’s Rights or Climate Change marches I’ve participated in before that are organized well in advance and have a designated time, these were often spontaneous protests sparked by a real personal and immediate anger and frustration. Protests that continued for months. Protests that, though mostly peaceful, sometimes did shut down cities and burn down buildings. And we saw an aggressive and often unjustifiable containment of those protests that is also unprecedented in my lifetime. For the first time, I’ve experienced city curfews and lock downs.

Just walking down the street, the evidence of how the world has changed is everywhere. People casually walking around in masks (at least in San Francisco, though clearly this varies by city, county, and state) that at this point have developed their own fashion of patterns and styles. People veer away to give each other a wide berth, even stepping off of the sidewalk into the road to avoid getting close. And none of that is considered rude. Busy streets are seen sectioned off for pedestrian use. Streets with restaurants are now lined with a collection of makeshift outdoor seating—the prototypical wooden walls and strung up garden lights. There are circles sprayed onto parks so people sit in their designated bubbles six feet apart. Shops are boarded up, either because the store went under or as a temporary fix to the break ins that happened during the protests. Markers are on the ground outside of grocery stores to indicate where to stand in line to be six feet apart. Plexiglass erected between yourself and the cashier. Hand sanitizers in every backpack and car, at the opening to every shop. Masks tucked into pockets and purses and car doors. The routine of disinfecting groceries. It all seems so normal now.

Despite so much erupting on the global stage, in that poetic contradictory fashion, I feel like in my personal bubble 2020 has been defined by how little has happened. With the exception of 2018, which I spent moving to San Francisco and living on the West Coast for the first time, 2020 is the first year since I was 17 years old that I haven’t traveled abroad. It is a year truly characterized by being stagnant and still.

The significance of traveling for me stems from a few places. The notion of how quickly time is used up and how limited our supply of it is has always been a fundamental motivator for me in how I approach life. It’s what drives me to learn and try and explore. How else should one spend a life if not trying to fit as many different experiences and gain as much perspective as one possibly can? To that end, I think being a good person is correlated to being exposed to as many types of people, places, and life experiences as possible. To me, traveling feels like connecting myself to the larger fabric of humanity and improving myself as a person. Travelling also helps me to keep perspective. One of my greatest fears is complacency. Getting into a routine that doesn’t really move or fulfill you but allows you to get by, and thinking that is enough while your life disappears. I feel like we have to be vigilant about reminding ourselves how valuable life is and how much we can do with our time as long as we keep pushing. Travelling to new places really gives me that reset and renewed energy. So, when I emphasize how 2020 was the first year I didn’t travel, what I’m really highlighting is how a major source of what fuels me and gives me a sense of value was missing. With everything horrible going on in the world, not having that safety net to pull me back and keep me mentally healthy enabled a sort of listlessness I hadn’t experienced before.

I also couldn’t do any of my usual music or dance classes. I didn’t get to explore a new city and interact with its communities. Often times, I had to cancel planned camping and hiking trips because new lock down orders would come into place. I remember in 2018 as the year was coming to a close, I had it in my mind that my year-end reflection would be about the importance of being aimless. It was my year of having no plan, having no serious commitments, and just letting myself inhabit new versions of myself. I felt experimental, a little reckless, and free. The year 2020 is in such stark contrast.

Here are some notable sad memories from 2020. My grandfather passed away. I was supposed to fly back for his funeral in March, but Covid-19 began hitting the U.S. in a noticeable way just before that trip. I remember just the week before, I had flown to visit my friend Barb in Vegas. I remember feeling the situation escalate as that trip unfolded – from Barb telling me she was feeling sick and me realizing she could be contagious with Covid, to wearing a mask for a prolonged time for the first time as I traveled through the airport, to ultimately booking an earlier flight home once I got to Las Vegas because I no longer felt it was safe. When I got back, I remember Stewart and I were driving back from work to his place, having just picked up our things to start working from home based on the new company policy (a week before a city order mandated it) and both of us reaching that turning point as we talked in the car. Up until that point, it was if we were slowly realizing the severity of the situation in bits and pieces. On that ride as we talked about how it would be irresponsible and unsafe to travel back to see my family, it escalated to the point of realization: things were not normal anymore. Things were going to change. And they were going to change for a while.

We had already booked and planned this extended trip back to Hawaii. My friend Winnie was going to travel to San Francisco the week after we got back. I had been working hard in preparation of taking the next month to be with friends and family. I’d been looking forward to the summer, when Stewart and I had planned to visit his family on the east coast and attend my college reunion. And then suddenly it was snatched away. I remember crying coming to grips with the immediate loss of those experiences, but also with the heaviness of what was happening around me. And then making the phone call to my parents. At the time, Hawaii was nowhere near the stage of fear and seriousness that we were at in California, and I remember having to convince them that it wasn’t a good idea to come home. I remember the tension of texting and emailing my aunts and uncles and cousins trying to get them to post-pone or scale down grandpa’s funeral to Big Island residents only. Tracking the Covid cases in Hawaii and watching as each day they increased exponentially. I remember my aunt’s comments about not wanting to put hand sanitizer out or have the immediate family seated away from the audience because she didn’t want to make people feel uncomfortable. It was a silly thought then, and has not aged well. Even looking back at the funeral photos where basically no one was wearing masks except my mom and grandma (because I sent them masks) is just unconceivable from this vantage point. But that’s the thing—everyone needed to have that moment of realization. And it came to people at different times for different reasons. And to some people sadly and frustratingly, it never came.

I remember the week following my grandpa’s funeral, my dad called to tell me had accidentally hit Nala with the truck, and that when they took her to the vet they discovered a tumor in her mouth. It was a rapid decline from there, and we put her to sleep soon after. I hadn’t experienced putting a dog to sleep since I was a kid. We also invested so much more individual attention to Nala because she lived during a time when she was the only dog. So losing her was just heartbreaking. And it was heartbreaking imagining my dad feeling any sort of guilt about it, and knowing my parents had to care for her as she declined. It still hurts me to imagine Hoku, our puppy, apparently jumping in the truck looking for Nala after she was put down, trying to track her down by her scent.

I cried a lot during that beginning period of the Covid experience. I was also staying at Stewart’s place in Berkeley, which up until that time I hadn’t spent much time at. So I felt disconnected from things that felt comfortable and normal in multiple ways. I also had an underlying stress about my brother’s wedding during that time, since at that point they were still planning to go through with it in October. Ultimately, they did decide to post-pone the wedding to the following year.

Eventually Stewart and I started taking action to combat the monotony that comes from having your work and social life confined to your home by planning some camping trips. But as fate would have it, once we started doing that, California had a record-breaking year in wildfires. And so we watched as the smoke rolled in, bringing us the worst air quality levels in the world at the time, and turning the sky orange. Never before have I had to constantly monitor air quality to decide if I could go outside or not, or jump in a car to use its filtration system while waiting out a period of particularly bad smoke.

Then, to close off the year, a worker on our farm had an overnight guest that tested positive for Covid, and I had to convince my parents to get tests. I went tense and numb for a week as we awaited the results, which were thankfully all negative. And on the very same day we found out about our worker’s exposure to Covid, I found out in a mix of frantic messages from my sister and friends that a fire had broken out on the farm. No one was hurt, but the container and building that stored many of my siblings belongings (and possibly some of mine that I’m not aware of) including my sister’s wedding dress, our Christmas decorations, and hundreds of thousands of dollars in farm equipment were completely destroyed.

But there were some good things that came from 2020! Motivated by wanting to take advantage of the time I have with my family when everyone is alive and well, I started scheduling weekly Zoom calls, which is the most remote communication my family has ever had. It also pushed me to have dad chip in for a smart phone for my mom’s birthday. We also got them an antenna for the internet, so it is now much easier to be in touch.

Another happenstance of 2020 is that it forced a lot of people to be more domestic. Clearly, given the shortage of flour at grocery stores at the start of the pandemic. It was fun reading my 2016 reflection where I talk about how I’m struggling to see myself as an adult since I still just cook with premade sauces, I have never held a job for more than a year, and my largest investment is my laptop. I can now safely say that I feel like an adult! I have a sourdough starter baby that I regularly make pizza dough and crackers from, and I have helped to put on Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. I’ve been at this job for over 2 and a half years, and my savings have gone from zero to half my income. I often feel like I am the mother of 667 Fell St. Oh, and I also turned 30 this year (which would probably have been a cornerstone of this reflection in a normal year, but is just an afterthought in this one).

I think another shared experience a portion of society has had is the self-reflection on whether or not we are happy with what we are doing in our lives. With all the social opportunities taken away, everyone fortunate enough to maintain their jobs has had their work be the focal activity of the year. And for those of us dissatisfied with our jobs, the lack of distractions outside of work to sustain us has made it clear that this is not a path to continue down further. The stress of the constant billable time to the 15-minute increment, the energy drain of the monotonous work, the emptiness of feeling like your life and time and potential is being wasted on work that has no meaning. It’s not enough to sustain me. While this isn’t blatantly a positive thought, I think it’s a clarity that will lead to a positive outcome in the long run. I don’t have the time and energy to do the things I enjoy with my current job, and I don’t have an interest in building on the skills this job requires. I want to support communities and people more directly, and I want to have creativity and writing play a larger role in the work I do. Where to go from here, I’m not sure, but I don’t want to waste another year not pursuing those opportunities.

Similarly, I can say that I have shared what has been a difficult but important life experience with my partner this year. And, despite both of us sharing the same living space and working at the same job together—which amounts to spending almost 24/7 together—we are still doing well. We aren’t in the happiest place given all that’s going on in the world and dissatisfaction with our jobs. But I’ve seen that we can share in difficult times together and still find ways to maintain a sense of fun and love. I certainly did not plan on living with a partner less than one year into a relationship, but the times have pushed us to accelerate things and we stayed strong through it. It was fun getting to know Berkeley—the neighborhoods and the trails. Stewart and I also shared in coastal foraging and fishing excursions, squeezed in a beautiful backpacking trip to Kennedy Lake (where Stewart even carried my backpack for me when I had some sort of elevation sickness), went on a roadtrip through Nevada, Utah, and Arizona to visit Barb and David, and even bought a boat and went boat-in camping at Tomales Bay. While I didn’t add new countries to the list of places I’ve been, I did manage to add national parks and forests like Stanislaus, Arches, Zion, and Death Valley.

Other perks of the year have been not having to waste time commuting to work, and therefore spending most of the year not having to wake up to an alarm. It was also nice sharing this bonding experience with my roommates, who I’m very grateful to have found in 2019. I also joined in the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion group at WRA and was able to be a judge for a middle school science competition, which brought me a lot of joy and inspiration to find similar work to do full time. Lastly, Biden thankfully won the presidential election. It was as if I had been holding my breath for four years and finally, when it seemed like even a contested result wouldn’t undo the margin that Biden had won by, all that tension came pouring out. Stewart and I pulled over in the car on our way to do some fishing as the results flashed on our phones and celebrated. I can’t imagine how hopeless it would have felt stepping into 2021 knowing we had another four years of the Trump administration.

I also want to note some things I meant to do but didn’t (and to say that it’s okay that I didn’t do them, because 2020 was not an easy year, and we all had to learn to be patient with ourselves throughout it). I’d stopped taking vocal classes with the intention of doing dance classes, but then never did because of Covid (the disclaimer, I’m currently signed up for a month-long class this January). Stewart bought me a keyboard, but I barely played it. I planned on quitting my job but, albeit for reasonable concerns about the economy and job market, never left it. There was video footage that I never edited and interview ideas that I didn’t get around to doing. I didn’t start building a communications body of work. I was never able to maintain good exercise habits. I didn’t finish and post my 2018 and 2019 reflections.

But you see, what I’ve realized is that when you’re not happy, it’s hard to do all the things you want to. I’m grateful that I even had a job, I’m grateful I genuinely like the people I was quarantined with, and I’m grateful for the money I was able to save during this past year. But it was a hard year and an unsatisfying year professionally. My hope for the coming year is that the clarity gained in what type of job I don’t want, and the financial buffer I now have, will allow me to transition to something more sustainable in the coming year. Something more fulfilling and more enjoyable. It’s the big ask, I know, to find a job that you also love. But I’m narrowed in on environmental communications or education, and I think one of the two will pan out.

So I’m going to continue to be patient and forgiving with myself in these trying times, but hopefully this past year will be a year I can always draw from. When I’m making an excuse to call my mom later, that I remember how scared I was when she got on the plane to the Big Island and thought she truly might be taken away from me, and then decide to call. When I’m choosing jobs, that I remember how the way you feel about the work you do seeps into all other aspects of your life, and that I choose passion over stability. I hope 2020 will always serve to remind me to be grateful.

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