#i will destroy the functionality of his world for the sake of composition ...

[xkyoirre]

boy’s vibin’ ✌

#art #drawing #illustration #anime art #anime boy #bishie #oc #meadow #thats an awfully short fence isnt it #he isnt supposed to be super tall either #but listen #i needed his hand to rest on it #i had no other choice #i will destroy the functionality of his world for the sake of composition ...

[vampiresuns]

Anatole’s Family Tree

this is Anatole’s family tree down to it’s basics, and you can have some info about everyone under the cut. I apologise for the intersecting lines, but family colours will help distinguish Florentino and Matilda from the Radošević they married.

hexagon is for he/him, circle for she/her, rounded edges for they/them

Vitale Cassano

Aquarius sun, Scorpio moon, Capricorn rising, Leo Mercury, Scorpio Mars, do NOT fuck with this man.

Former Consul of Vesuvia, responsible for the biggest (to date) expansions in the Vesuvian public space, the reason why Vesuvia was an attractive, rich location with solid public funding which ended up going to hell with Lucio’s administration, but that’s another story.

If he knew that his hard work would go to hell like it did, he would’ve made a coup to change the course of history.

Fuck around and find out in human form. His entire energy is condensed in this post. 

Had the art of delivering insults diplomatically down to an art, however. “You’re tacky and I hate you” would destroy a diplomatic relation; “I believe a less heterodox decision which might hold the weight of this agreement with less attached risk” doesn’t.

Friends with Dragoslav Radošević parents, as in those friends you call uncle when they’re not really related to you, but kind of are by default of closeness anyway. Befriended him because he was the most eccentric person in the room and he was bored.

Amparo Mediavilla

Is that even her actual family name? Who the hell are the Mediavilla? Where does her money come from? She says she’s from Karnassos but literally no one knows (she does, she just won’t tell). Has a brother named Seraphim Mediavilla, and that’s all you need to know.

Vitale was well aware she was probably a smuggler, but he likes her surprisingly present honour code anyway. Plus, she was fun, she was different, she was efficient. We stan.

She’s half the reason why the Cassano’s library in the Vesuvian Palazzo they inhabit in the Heart District is basically an open research centre for all of those travellers who seek knowledge. The Cassano have almost always have an open doors policy — the Consul acts in behalf of the people, and the people are allowed to go to the Consul. Amparo expanded and bettered that system, to the point it acted as Vesuvia’s public library and the biggest reason why the Palace didn’t quite have one — it was an understanding that it wasn’t needed. The only time the Consul’s Palazzo has been closed to the people of Vesuvia is during the plague. 

Longest lashes ever seen in a person.

Somehow already knew the Radošević, they liked her honest opinions and her distaste for explaining herself.

Luciano “Lucenzo” Cassano

Vitale’s baby brother, they had a significant age difference.

Known later as ‘Great Uncle Lucenzo’, literally no one called him Luciano but Vitale when he wanted him to stop doing something stupid. Not that Lucenzo thought his ideas were stupid, after all, this man was an architect and patron of the arts, and Goldgrave’s favourite loose canon ball.

He was not allowed to set a foot in Firent. When you asked him why, he kept changing the story.

Met his wife at an orgy. Yes, you read that right.

Octavia Cassano

Sweet lady, do no harm, take no shit, appreciates a good laugh in life.

Met Lucenzo at an orgy. She made a joke, and the person she was focusing on didn’t find it funny, but Lucenzo did.

Came from another prominent Vesuvian family. Worked with her BIL, Vitale, in developing social policy plans and judicial reforms in Veusuvia. Which also went to hell. If she was alive today, Portia would be her favourite and would literally fight to have her work with her.

Greenest eyes this side of the straight of seals.

Agrippina & Iovanus Cassano

Amparo’s and Vitale’s children, Agrippina is two years older than Iovanus.

Agrippina stepped down from becoming the Consul out of personal preference. They were a scholar and proficient historian, very talented in the art of mixing a good drink as well. Closest to the Prakran intellectual circles and is one of the notable alumni of the Prakran University. One of her later acquaintances, Rosario Aster, would eventually become Anatole’s tutor in History and Politics before he went to university himself.

Agrippina partly worked as a diplomat attaché, wasn’t a full on freedom fighter simply because there wasn’t an uprising to be one in. If Vitale is the MO of the Cassano, Lucenzo their spark, and Amparo their zest, Agrippina is, surprisingly, their political compass. Agrippina and Lucio weren’t on the best terms, they were in awful terms actually. The Cassano and him are simply like oil and water, it just doesn’t mix.

Iovanus took after Vitale and became the Consul. He was less of a surprise stew than the father, though, and inevitably, his best focus became damage control.

His entire vibe is moomin going on a murderous rage and then holding back. He’s folding the knife. For now. Iovanus was a pain in the ass to have as a predecessor in the position of Consul because this man constantly had his patience tested and his city funds used in things he didn’t want to do. Responsible, along with Agrippina, with the current functioning of the Council of Vesuvia and it’s final opening before Anatole’s times. What that composition and functioning is, is something I might, one day, decide to write down, but not today for the sake of staying on topic.

They’re the closest thing to the “spirit” of a tribune of the plebs I can think of, without like, either of them ending up dead like the Gracci brothers.

Cassandra Cassano

Finally some fucking scientist/mathematician. Mathematician wife of Agrippina. Did some political economy, but that hadn’t been invented yet, mostly liked numbers for the sake of numbers and finding out what she could do with them.

Having in mind that when I say ‘Vesuvian’ I mean solely location and original seat, not ethnicity, comes from a Vesuvian Family which settled in Venterre. Studied in Zadith and Prakra, but met Agrippina during some diplomatic function.

She was someone else’s date, and Agrippina was working with Iovanus is some diplomatic relations, and Agrippina literally said they were happy and willing to stay to seal the negotiations if Cassandra would go out with them. Cassandra was bored off her skin, and said yes.

They married by the end of the year.

Valerian Cassano

Iovanus’ husband. Renaissance man in the humanities department, very savant, a virtuoso, but his true passion was the performing arts. Darling of Vesuvian opera and theatre.

Met Iovanus through Lucenzo (patron of the arts, remember?). Iovanus went to every single of his plays for a year, made some very light advances as a “fan”, until Valerian asked him what his deal was. Iovanus was disarmed by gorgeous light amber eyes and witty snark, having no option but to admit his feelings.

Cemented the Cassano-Radošević relationship with Goldgrave. Most of the family thought it healthy for a dose of ‘get of your high-horse’ check.

Hated the Colosseum with a black tar vitriol.

He was Elysian Radošević’s (Anatole’s great grandmother on the Radošević side) best friend.

Matilda Cassano & Krešmir Radošević

Here’s where the story gets a bit sad. Inherited all of the snark of Valerian, but wanted nothing to do with her family’s ventures.

They just didn’t click. She always thought her fathers were very dedicated men, but needed to let loose a little. She was here for a fun time, not a long time. Which was sadly, literal.

For the longest time, it was an understanding that her cousin Cassiopeia would inherit the consulship from Iovanus, which Matilda didn’t love. She didn’t want the Consulship, but thought she was entitled to it. She could be the Consul and Cassiopeia do the job.

Cassiopeia did not like the idea, specially because within the Cassano it’s an open rule that the title falls on whomever willingly wants to take the mantel, number one. Number two, it came with an awareness of your social position and what good you could do with it, having in mind you weren’t really necessary for society. Someone else could be the Consul, the people, if given a chance, would govern themselves. It’s part of the Cassano mythos that surrounds them that they’re a protective line between misused political power and the people of Vesuvia. So, no, Matilda shouldn’t be the Consul.

Honestly, did Iovanus and Valerian spoil her too much? They have no clue. They just think she might be wired that way, because she always disliked it.

She married the fourth of the equivalent generation of the Radošević siblings, Krešmir Radošević.

Krešmir was a bit of a loose shot, doing “useful” things because he had to, not because he wanted to, so they took to each other like fish to water. They both wanted to have fun, the problem was they wanted to have fun with no respect of the world around them. Krešmir had middle child syndrome, which became worse after his youngest sibling, Ilnya, died at 27.

They had two children: Vladislav Radošević and Valeriy “Valerius” Radoševic.

Sadly, they passed away when Vlad was 14 and Val 4. They went on a holiday, leaving the kids with Mircea Radošević (Krešmir older brother) and Florentino Cassano (Matilda’s cousin and Mircea’s husband), as Iovanus and Valerian were in no place (out of grief) to take care of the children, and Mircea and Florentino were their de facto care takers already.

Now, onto the Radošević, so mind you, we’re going back a couple of generations.

Dragoslav Radošević

PRIME recipient of the Radošević tradition of breeding polymaths/”renaissance people”. This man spoke 6 languages, knew astronomy, economy, mathematics, accountancy, a bit of law and a whole lot of history. Excellent chess player.

No one’s exactly sure what the hell he did, he did too many things. Some sort of diplomacy was clearly his most usual job. Big friends with Agrippina, Cassandra and Iovanus. Everyone thought he’d marry Agrippina but both of them dry heaved at the possibility.

He was a bit of a character though. Very conspicuous man with particular rituals. Taciturn man, too, but overall amicable.

Had a very long, stable marriage with Elysian, his wife. Survived the death of two of their children. The death of Ilnya hit Dragoslav more than anyone would expect, but he had a very “let me grief in private” stance. The key to understand a Radošević is that their mentality is “whatever happens to you, whatever life throws at you, you find a way to survive it.”

His is a family of eccentrics, inventors, patron of the arts, humanists and scientists; when he says his family, he means the Cassano too.

No rumour ever mattered to any of them, and Dragoslav & Elysian were a prime example of it. Theirs is a family of academics full of anxieties about the world surrounding them, whose sorrows were scars they rarely showed. Private yet with an extensive, and international, circle of acquaintances who deemed them all charmingly strange on their best days; prideful, analytic, often with a drink in hand. 

Had a sister who had three partners, all of them women, too.

Elysian Radošević, nee Juriša

Wallachian by birth, first person in her family (aside from one aunt the Juriša did NOT speak about) to marry someone who wasn’t a Wallachian in a couple of generations. Not that she minded, everything I said about Drago, applies to Elysian.

She was a child of high society, bonded with Valerian, her best friend, out of their love for Operettas, though while Valerian went pro, she was an amateur — still, very good at it.

Excellent piano player, loved a well crafted, ingenious garden.

Beacon of the Radošević righteous rage. The Radošević are meant to be from a place called Balkovia, which is modelled after Yugoslavia, with many of the “bumps” in actual history colliding (A/N: Anatole is a latine-slav like me, for a reason). Elysian was the friend of artists and partisans, and had absolutely zero respect for certain kinds of leeches in political power. Zero national pride in this one, but at least, she came from a place were partisans stood (or used to) stand up to injustice.

In her dignified clothes with her amiable smile, she will bite ankles. Try her, you just try Elysian Radošević and she’ll remind you of all those people who ever said: They shall not pass.

Ambrozije Radošević

Diplomat, politician, eldest of Dragos and Ely’s children.

Inherited his father’s temperance but also had Elysian’s "Excuse Me, What The Fuck Is This Shit” attitude. Still, many times when he talked about his job, he had to stop his mother to go out and bite ankles.

Was the Radošević rage an answer against the grief of living and growing, against the cycle of dying and rebirth, and a cry of this is not enough, what I get is not enough? Maybe. Ambrozije liked to theorise about it.

Married Eloise Isaković and had two children: Kuzma and Lucija.

Best fencer of his generation.

Eloise Isaković

Didn’t take the Radošević surname solely to spite her family. She was disinherited for wanting to marry a Radošević. Her father said “if you want to marry then be a housewife for those freaks and I’ll take you out of University.”

The Radošević were like not in my fucking watch.

You bet Elysian and Dragoslav had words about that.

Percy Shelley, if Percy had been a woman, and also an anthropologist.

Will make femur jokes.

Kuzma & Lucija Radošević

Less in the centre of things than the rest of the family, out of virtue of “dear God, I get they’re my family but these people are fucking weird.”

The Addams energy was too much for them.

Kuzma is an alchemist and an inventor, moved to Zadith to study, never came back. He has two daughters and a wife, though.

Lucija became a diplomat for Balkovia, has a seat beyond the straight of seals. More traditional for diplomacy than Ambrozije by all means.

Very Dad please not now, but she does love the old man.

Married, never had children.

Neuma Radošević

Painter, a gay who can do maths, so that’ll have you knowing she’s stronger than you already. Perspective does not scare her.

Little does.

(Moths do, for some reason).

Claimed to have zero magical ability, but it was heavily disputed because how the hell did she paint like that.

Travelled a lot with her bohemian artist found family.

Never married.

Anatole loved watching her paint as a kid, she taught Valeriy to paint and about art as well. Big difference was Valeriy had a better hand for it than Anatole did, who literally can’t draw to save his skin.

Mircea’s favourite.

Mircea Radošević

Distinguished man, owns my heart.

“That was nOT POLITE”

Pretty level headed, has a big heart and a lot of will to help people. Just don’t be impolite, or he won’t like you.

Yes, he’s a libra.

An Architect, got to meet the other Architect in the family Lucenzo Cassano. That’s, in fact, how he met Florentino. Of course Lucenzo had an apprenticeship for Dragoslav son, but of course. The rest is history. Longest lasting marriage in both the Cassano and the Radošević tree by virtue of them gaving gotten together fairly young, and in the furture dying of a very, very old age.

He enjoyed travelling and the finer, beautiful things in life. If you want to equate his views to anyone in the real world, think about William Morris saying “I do not want art for a few; any more than education for a few; or freedom for a few.”

Aristically, somewhere between Gaudi and Morris.

Worked in several restoration projects both in Balkovia and Vesuvia.

Lived in Vesuvia on and off with Florentino and the children, which meant Vlad and Val were raised right between the vortex of everything that is the Cassano and the Radošević.

As polite and diplomatic that he is, he isn’t really a doormat, and if there’s anyone he would throw hands for it’s for his children (yes, he sees them as his children), and Anatole. Disrispect tha boy in front of him and he will throtle you and say you did it to yourself.

Florentino Cassano

Nicknamed Floren, Florence, Florens, Flolo, Tino, Tinino, Antonino.

Very responsible, big sense of family. Closest in personality to Vitale Cassano, his grandather.

Son of Agrippina and Cassandra, took after Cassandra’s love for numbers, but mixed it with Agrippina’s eye for politics and his Aunt Octavia’s knack for political economy (even if it had’t been invented yet).

 Financier and investor worked in the public sector, ran the coffer of the Council of Vesuvia for a while, but quitted out of management differences with certain people in Court and up. Still very willing to help people of all backgrounds manage their assets though.

A bit of a hardass, when Matilda and Krešmir died he said of course they would, as it was very in the likes of them to get so lost in the moment and their ideal world where they had no earhtly responsibilities to forget they had two young sons.

Still, when Vlad and Val first called him “Dad” or “Father”, respectively, he kinda cried big tears. Freaked Vlad out because he thought he had done something wrong. Florentino was quick to tell him he hadn’t.

Ilnya Radošević & Blasio Abadzić

Ilnya was another one of those Radošević that you weren’t exactly sure what the hell was it that they did, because they seemed to have a lot of eggs in different baskets. Was an astronomer, though.

Strongest intuition/six senth in the Radošević. Another of those cases where it was definitely magic (Ilnya was clairvoyant) but they all passed it off as having another explanation.

Was the most joyful, had the most contagious laughter and the quickest, most wicked sense of humour.

I’m not entire sure how Blasio and them met, they haven’t told me yet, but it was one of those meetings which changes your life forever.

Blasio is equally irreverent, if not more. This one post of a man playing the guitar and an old man dancing to it is the exact vibe Blasio had (he’s the old man dancing, the man playing the guitar would be his grandson Milenko — who’s Anatole’s cousin however many times removed).

They lived in Vesuvia. Ilnya was a court scientist. The Cassano library has a try globe map that was their work with a court cartographer. It has a map of the region, of the world, and of the stars for navigation purposes.

Ilnya died of sepsis at the age of 27, going on 28. To this day, no one knows exactly what took them out.

After Ilnya died, the Cassano offered to take Blasio and their twins Atanasie (pronounced Ah-ta-na-SY) and Violeta in with them to ease of the expences of raising two kids as a single father. He accepted.

Blasio was a composer and dramaturg. He took it as a personal goal not to let the joy escape from his life after becoming a widower. Said carrying on with joy and irreverence was his job, as if to preserve his spouse’s legacy.

Vladislav Radošević

Whatever name theme you sense with him and his wife, don’t @ me about it!!! I remade this entire family on a whim, I will take my headcanons about other things and build from them.

Eldest of the V² brothers, if people had soulmate marks, his soulmate would be his brother. Vlad has always felt responsible for him and, unlike him, remembers much of how they parents actually were or how carelessly negligent they could be. His defence against grief was becoming taciturn and “distancing” himself from things. It didn’t always really work for him, but he sure did try.

Grew up with the mistaken feeling that the rest of their families were taking care of him and his brother as a favour. He eventually wrapped his head around the idea that it wasn’t a favour.

Called Mircea and Florentino “Father”/”Dad” for the first time when he was 16, never went back. It wasn’t like he didn’t spent a lot of time being brought up by them due to his own parents absences.

Taciturn, remarkably inventive and intelligent, has a bit of trouble coming out of his shell. Prefers to observe, then pounce. Other than this, his main personality trait is “I love my wife, I love my son.”

An alchemist, works in what would be closest to biochemical engineering.

Mircea and Florens discovered he would be very suited for that field because when he was a kid he kept designing buildings to show Mircea. They clearly showed he had not a predisposition to become an architect, but whatever weird, inexplicable mazes he created always came with solutions attached and clever mechanisms.

He’s a problem solver, he’s just shaking years of bad mental health habits of his shoulders.

A scorpio and a cat person. Has two cats with Louisa, Kiki and Keke (their actual names are Cyrila and Cecilia).

Yes, his brother is also a scorpio, yes his son is also a scorpio. They get along, however.

Met Louisa in some sort of medical-alchemy conference/symposium (whatever that would be aplicable to the time, what matters to me is that you get the idea). Louisa didn’t like his attitude, called him out, and Vlad simply blinked, apologised, and did better.

A second apology and further conversations ended up with them falling in love.

If Vlad knows what allowing himself to love and live feels like, it is because of Louisa and Anatole.

He gets pegged.

Speaks five languages and won a regional fencing championship when he was in his early 20s. Still thinks his brother is better at fencing than he is.

Louisa De Silva

Latin American, eldest of three sisters (Paris and Alma being the other two De Silva sisters). She emmigrated from her native country to a. study medicine b. because there was a Dictatorship at the time, and her parents suspected Louisa would not keep quiet enough to guarantee her safety.

She personally swore never to go back until there were no active traces of said dictatorship left in her country. Nothing, not even the war that eventually rose up in Balkovia has made her change her mind, and probably nothing will. Once she is set on what is right, she is set.

Met Vlad as mentioned above. She didn’t appreciate his initial “careful” cynicism, but also didn’t believe he was as insufferable as most people thought he was. Someone with attention to detail, determination and who prefers to stand back from social situations, who hasn’t actually done anything nefarious, offensive or in bad taste isn’t a bad person.

Once she paid him a visit and he opened the door shirtless because he thought it was his brother, and Louisa almost wheezed in front of him.

“I’m going to sleep with Radošević” “But you don’t have to?” “No, no, I’m gonna.”

Speaks five languages.

Speaking of the war I mentioned: there was a war in Balkovia which began little before Anatole was born, and therefore around 29 years before the events of the game. At the time, Vlad and Louisa were already together, and planning to move to Vesuvia. However, the war began, Vlad felt torn about leaving and not helping, not that he wanted to admit it, and Louisa said “well, I did not leave a country ridden with injustice to passively see war crimes being committed.” As soon as she could after Anatole was born she volunteered as a field doctor.

And she is good. “Louisa De Silva” would absolutely resonate in Nazali’s or Julian’s fellow doctor knowledge level of notoriously good.

Aquarius sun, Saggitarius moon, she’s active, independent, unconventional, friendly, very understanding and highly humanitarian. Louisa loves people and cannot stand injustice. Loves and craves learning and is very sincere. She can be a bit impulsive, but she’s good at coming back from it.

Much of Anatole’s sense of social duty and sometimes even social fight is due to Louisa.

Vlad and Val call her Lulu. Anatole always calls her Mamá. Always. It doesn’t matter what language he’s speaking, she is his Mamá.

Louisa De Silva, santa patrona del pueblo que lucha.

Often dragged Vlad and Val into some of her schemes. Val loves to complain about it, but he actually adores his SIL.

Valeriy “Valerius” Radošević of the Cassano of Vesuvia, former Consul of Vesuvia and Court Advisor.

Here is where I would like to clarify and remind the (very patient) reader that this is my own interpretation of Canon, and I’ve triedto build with it from what little we were told of this specific character, Vesuvian lore, and the story I wanted to tell. I tried to do my best with the interpretation of the character, but know you’re in no obligation to adhere to my ideas.

Some people can call him Val, namely, his parents, his nephew, his SIL and his brother. Literally anyone else he will bite your head.

Inherited his mother’s and his namesakes witty snark, even if it’s not always witty.

I have the personal hc that Lucio cannot, for the life of him, pronounce slavic names, so Valeriy became Valerius, though his family already called him Valerius because it was the one nickname he accepted.

However, for the most part, his family calls him Valeriy, in contrast to Vesuvian citizens, who call him Valerius.

Doesn’t remeber his parents, and doesn’t like to think about them. It is very tragic that they died, but they left him, and he has no time for people like that. His brother, however, had always been there. So have been Mircea and Florentino.

I’ve always hc he had one big love in his youth, but couldn’t actually stand the idea of an empty marriage based on status and decided to never marry.

Wasn’t always this high and mighty. He has always been a complicated man, with complicated tastes and even a snob, but he was raised in two multicultural families, based in two multicultural cities. What I personally hc happening here is that he truly hates his job. He does like the sense of status and the power that comes with it, but the responsibility? The state of things when he took over from Iovanus? The paperwork? The staleness of it all? And to do it for a city that ate itself up?

He would’ve given his cousin Cassiopeia his left arm to take the position for him, but in the end, he was subject of what he thought everyone expectations were. He feared more not being enough in the eyes of his grandfather, who did not want to repeat the same mistakes he did with Matilda, than saying “Nono Iovanus I actually hate this job with all my soul.”

But then again, the power attached to it.

I fully believe that if you had given Valerius a position that was, say, a cultural authority of sorts? Where he could focus on the arts, theatre, food and those sort of things? He would’ve thrived. The city would’ve been leagues away from where it was if he would’ve been allowed to solely focus on art.

Instead, he has to fix people’s problems, and he doesn’t want to. It isn’t that he doesn’t care in the slightest — he does, in the distant sense of people should not be dying left and right, and cities should be ran by competent Statespeople. Of course he believes that! He’s a Radošević and a Cassano of Vesuvia, who do you take him for. It was his family that 500 years ago stepped up into the position due to their sheer excellence, of course he believes that.

Just for the love of everything you deem holy, do not fucking leave that fixing to him. He’s begging you, and he doesn’t actually beg

(At least that’s what he says in public)

 While he doesn’t quite like magic, or rather, doesn’t quite understand it and takes a lot of self proclaimed magicians as frauds (and an insult to good peope’s intelligence), he’s never had a judgamanetal attitude towards Anatole’s magical sensitivies. Most of what he sees about it is his inordinate aptitude for languages. He tends to take it as his nephew being simply Better, because if this man is something, that thing is proud.

He eases off after the events of the game where he can simply be a court advisor and give himself a chance. Not that it excuses or ammends any mistake that he committed, but it’s a place to start. He can do that, he thinks.

His was the decision to close during the Plague, and for the first time, the Palazzo the Cassano inhabit in the Heart District to the City.

His grandafther Valerian was (is) still alive while he’s the Consul, and tried to reach out to help him when he began to do deals with the Devil many times, but Valerius sucks at letting people help him. Officially worse than his brother at it.

He is, however, the best fencer in the family, and he is one of the best singers, he just doesn’t do any of both much in front of people. What he does when he’s at home is none of your business.

While I could feel pages of headcanons about this man, but I will try to stay on topic, and mostly address my previous post about the subject of Valerius’ and Anatole’s relationship, which, now that I’ve reworked the families into a story I do feel excited to tell most of it no longer applies.

The timeline is p much the same, both with Valerius, and with Anatole travelling with tutors to study and visiting whenever he could.

His feelings when Anatole dies stay the same. The difference is Anatole's family does know he dies when he stands as the Apprentice (normally, he doesn’t, he just stands as an Arcana OC). During the time of the plague, Vlad and Louisa travelled to Vesuvia to help, so they do know their son died.

What ends up breaking Val is not only losing his nephew (and again for what) but also seeing his brother and his SIL completely break. It was his job to protect him, and he didn't do it. He wasn’t enough.

I headcanon that when Anatole doesn’t die, one of his deals with the Devil is that no harm comes (from the Court) to Anatole. I also hc that for someone who has such pride in his intellect (which is there, he is pretty smart) he did rather unsuitable dealings with the Devil, by which I mean he dealt in really awful terms that he, himself, would’ve berated anyone else to have done out of their sheer idiocy of not fully using their leverage.

The main difference with the post is that Anatole and Valerius do not suffer their family anymore. The Radošević and the Cassano are opinionated and very "If something happens to one of us, it happens to all of us" but they're good, eccentric, people-leaning people, albeit wealthy. Hence, why I personally hc that what happens here is that he hates the job but loves the status, but the status carries the responsibility of people asking him for things, and he doesn’t want to be asked for things. He will be in his room if you need him, and please do not need him.

(In Anatole’s case, it's finding his place in the world. It’s a journey of diaspora and of becoming. To win, you must first know yourself)

Vlad and Louisa adore him to bits still, complicated as he is.

Anatole and Valerius do fight in some of the LI routes and during those three years before the game begins.

Everything else stands.

Atanasie and Violeta Radošević, and Aurora Radošević

Thank you with bearing with me so far, I love you.

Atanasie and Violeta are twins, cousins of Vlad and Valeriy, children of Ilnya and Blasio, the happy eccentric duo.

Grew up right amid the Radošević and the Cassano, and it really goddamn shows. They’re en aunt and uncle/counsins saying criptic things with a drink in hand, and you’re not entirely sure if they’re portetns of doom or not, but good for them!

Best violinists in the family though. Play the most instruments as well, as Blasio was a composer and multi-instrumentalist. Neither of them are professional musicians though.

Atanasie is a traveller and explorer, think of the eccentric explorer archetype without the Colonialism nor the grave robbing. Would, objectively, get along the best with Julian. He’s another of those people who knows a lot of things about different topics, but now like cursed/forbidden/borderline illegal things.

If Amparo Mediavilla had been alive to know him, she would’ve been really proud.

Violeta is a botanist and garden designer. The palace did ask her to work with them, but she went No ❤️. She, however, is responsible for the current design of the Palazzo’s winter garden, which in her biased yet correct opinion is the best room in it.

High femme eccentric queen, married Aurora who used to travel around with Atanasie. She’s an archeologist.

They have one son, Milenko, who is... an entire party.

Aelius Anatole Radoševic De Silva, of the Cassano of Vesuvia, former secretary of the Council of Vesuvia, and Consul of Vesuvia

Good ol’ Nana

Technically, that would be his entire ass title (which he correctly insists it’s a public office, not a nobiliary title, because a Consul is a public servant, and people just got mad with power for to long)

He hates it.

Please just call him Anatole, or Aelius if you’re not that daring.

I’m going to use this to talk a bit about Consul Anatole: along with Nadia, he introduced a series of social reforms, solidified them, and changed a lot of aspects of the way in which the City was run, in order to make corruption harder (Nana’s pride and joy are his Anti-Corruption directives) and to protect the reform on themsleves.

Adamantly against having a statue of him. Which was respected while he was alive, but a couple of generations down, they eventually built one, near the main square.

It points east, which is where the sun rises. It’s a metaphor for hope, and for Vesuvia to have the resilence to await for the dawn.

Milenko Radošević

His vibe is this picture of Javier Botet, meeting this meme, and the video of the old man and the younger man playing guitar, where he would be playing guitar. Oh, also, this picture of a guy floating in the Zadar floods of 2017, from this post. If this was a modern AU rest assured that WOULD be Milenko, and he doesn’t even live in Zadar.

When you see internet memes about how Slavs/people from the Adriatic are kind of weird, I want you to think of Milenko.

So yes, you would see him on a floatie down the canals of Vesuvia.

He’s a journalist and a writer, which has nothing to do with him being a character.

Tried to summon the Devil to show the Devil isn’t real. After the events of the game, if Anatole is involved in defeating the devil, he’s always offended he didn’t bring him along, he had points to prove.

Plays the guitar and the double bass.

Looks like an 80s goth, and we will not question how that’s mildly anachronistic. His favourite band would be The Cure. Also would have a soft spot for The Cranberries which he definitely took from Anatole.

When Belle and Sebastian wrote “colour my life with the chaos of trouble” in the Boy With The Arab Strap they were talking specifically about Milenko.

Chugs respect women juice harder than most people. If he chokes on it, then that’s how he dies.

Not allowed in several bars, has at least one sworn enemy in the Vesuvian nobility.

Him, Amparo Cassano (she’s down below) and Anatole are all in the same age range, and they’re a force to be reckon with.

Thank you for staying with me up to this point! We’re about to make another jump back. We’re following Lucenzo Cassano’s line now.

Atilia Cassano & Anzano Ventura

Atilia is the child of Lucenzo and Octavia. Closest thing to a community organiser. Need someone to organise a party? Atilia. A meeting? Atilia. To allocate human resources to enact some policy? Atilia.

Anzano is the son of two High Priests in Vesuvia from one of the temples in the Temple District, which is how they met Atilia.

Anzano doesn’t have a fixed profession, and takes things up according to their interests. Which are varied.

Cares more about their cat than they do about some people, both of them. Neither of them are the kind to wish ill on other people, but if ill falls on you as consequences of your actions, then that’s on you buddy.

Some of the things Anzano Ventura has said, without context: “My heart is green with hope.”

“Figure out what fortune has to hand you and spit twice in the face of the Gods.” It’s a saying from where they’re originally from. They’ve never properly explained what it means.

“These are not gentle waters we are sailing.” There is context for this one. They said this when the Plague began to surface in Vesuvia.

Atilia died a couple years before Anzano, who died of Plague.

This is how Anzano would’ve looked like in his early twenties.

Cassiopeia Cassano & Iris Ravella

If Valerius had not become the Consul, it would’ve fell on Cassiopeia. She was a Vesuvian diplomat and politician, member of the Council. Would’ve become the Consul anyway, but, respecting Iovanus’ wishes and trusting (correctly or not, it’s up to you) Valeriy’s potential, stepped aside.

Truly did not resent Matilda for harbouring peculiar feelings against her because Iovanus didn’t want to let her have the Consulship. Nor she did on Valeriy for his mistakes.

Iris comes from another prominent Vesuvian family. Theirs is a family of merchants, based in Centre City, who weren’t particularly thrilled about Iris marrying a Cassano.

Iris cared very little. They did it anyway.

Amparo Cassano

Last but not ever least.

Ballet dancer, fencer, deeply invested in politics. Amparo takes after the OG Amparo, her great aunt Amparo Mediavilla, in her daring, often without explanation ways, as she does in her honour code.

Sarcastic wit, a little bit petty. Would be one of those people who go “I licked it, so it’s mine.”

Takes up an interest in languages, as well as runes and tarot, though she’s not as good with languages as Anatole is. She says life gave him a magical advantage or otherwise she would’ve bested him. Anatole doesn’t doubt it.

Would climb to your window to impress you, with a sword to her hip. She’s that kind of bi.

Would definitely dance to Caramelldansen, and so would Milenko. Anatole would Not, but would look at Amparo dead in the eye and dance it when they’re alone, because he knows no one will believe her.

She calls him a ‘motherfucker’, to which he replies: “Do I LOOK like Oedipus to you.”

Loud mouthed, but with a good heart.

While her an Milenko are, technically, not actually related, they act like they are. They don’t care that’s not how it works.

Comrade Cassano? Comrade Cassano.

The world is her oyster and she’s about to slurp it.

Thank you so much for sticking with me to the end of this list. Means the world to me, as I’m happy to share the Radošević-Cassano with anyone who is willing to listen.

#aelius anatole #the radosevic-cassano #this? this is Deep Lore #i'm finally done holy shit

[korbynwatt237331]

Week 5

1. Using the past exhibitions from Te Papa ( on the Te Papa website and link in the talk uploaded below )  identify an exhibition that has displayed a collection that reflects the identities of a specific social/ cultural group, medium, or social issue. Identify the key drivers behind the collection, curation and exhibition strategies.

Things Seen and Heard - 2018

https://www.tepapa.govt.nz/about/past-exhibitions/2018-past-exhibitions/things-seen-and-heard

“Each of us inhabit our own version of the world, shaped by what we see and what we imagine. This is especially true of distant places, even ones we’ve visited before.”

“These objects, which connect Asia and Aotearoa New Zealand, reflect this dynamic flow of ideas. None is the product of a single culture. Instead, each has been shaped by influences that span the globe, representing over a century of connected and curious artists and collectors.”

I was not fortunate enough to view this exhibition in person but I can see its value that it had. “None is the product of a single culture. Instead, each has been shaped by influences that span the globe, representing over a century of connected and curious artists and collectors.” The simple design of the exhibitions flow looks to be an important aspect of the big idea that this exhibition is showcasing, the idea that Asias connection with New Zealand is a special one, the inclusion of multiple cultures and New Zealand's acceptation of so. 

Woman viewing a silhouette

This uchiwa-e ‘fan-shaped composition’ by Utagawa Sadahide (1807–73), is one of several that he designed featuring yūjo (courtesans) peering at the profiles of brothel quarter patrons silhouetted on shōji screen doors. The scene is set early in a relationship, in the moments before their introduction at a teahouse function. To the left, carefully-prepared food and a large kettle of sake are laid out for the engagements that will follow. The conceit here appears to be playful: the yūjo is trying to make out the identity of her patron – and the silhouette is certainly distinctive. Whoever he is, etiquette required that her entertainments should be conducted with the greatest professionalism. But there is also a tacit acknowledgement of a double standard in the quarters: historically, while the identities of Yoshiwara women were public knowledge – even feted – their clients had always enjoyed some anonymity, often arriving and leaving under hooded disguises. Sadahide’s observation is acutely perceptive and matter of fact, qualities that served an interest that was to prove even more profitable for the artist: documentation and reportage of the local scene during times of momentous change. In this sense, it is his ground-breaking views of the rapidly changing fabric of international relations at the port of Yokohama that secured the commercial success of his inquisitive mind and analytical, purposeful eye.

Flight, AWMM

This photograph by Haruhiko Sameshima was taken in 1991 at the Auckland War Memorial Museum. Sameshima used a two-and-a-quarter square inch camera for the shot, which features one of the bird dioramas at the museum. Rather than photographing the dioramas from the front, Sameshima's image is constructed so that the viewer looks through the frosted glass background of one diorama into another. The result is a slightly strange perspective that seems to free the birds, the opaque glass heightening the sense that the birds might actually fly and move.

Athenes

This black and white photograph was taken by Haruhiko Sameshima in 1992 while the artist was travelling around Europe. Having graduated from Elam School of Fine Arts at the University of Auckland in 1992, Sameshima went on a compressed version of the traditional New Zealand O E (overseas experience), visiting France, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Hungary, Germany, Austria, the Czech Republic, and the Netherlands. Athenes was taken in a museum in Greece, and it focuses on the shadow cast by a plinth and glass display case, which holds an ancient bronze male figure.

Miniature Chinese garden

Yokohama kaiko kenbun-shi/ Things seen and heard at the Yokohama Open Port

The major Japanese Utagawa school artist Sadahide (1807-73) came to fame with his bijin-ga (images of beautiful women) and diversified into landscapes and warrior prints. However, he remains best known internationally for his depictions of exotic locales and events (e.g. the First Opium War), and he particularly focussed in the late 1850s and early 1860s on the port of Yokohama, which he also mapped in panorama form. Still a sleepy fishing village at the time of Commodore Perry’s mission in 1853-54, it rapidly expanded from 1859 as Japan’s sole open port, with permanent foreign residents as Japan’s key open port.

Sadahide’s inclusion in this publication of both Japanese characters within each pictorial composition and English-language text on separate pages reflects a rapidly growing awareness of the importance of multilingual capacities for informing the changing activities of diplomacy and commerce. The combination certainly enhanced the capacity of volumes like these for informing New World readers of American activities in these exotic lands.

This exhibition bridges the gap between cultures and allows us to understand the impact of the events that have been shown within the items on display. Such as Yokohama kaiko kenbun-shi/ Things seen and heard at the Yokohama Open Port’s expression and use of Japanese characters and English text to reflect the importance of multilingual awareness. Allowing us to bridge the gap between language and understand ones culture without filter.  

Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa, Wellington, NZ. 2020. Things Seen And Heard. [online] Available at: <https://www.tepapa.govt.nz/about/past-exhibitions/2018-past-exhibitions/things-seen-and-heard> [Accessed 8 October 2020].

2. Select an example of a design focused museum ( for example, The Dowse, The Design Museum in London, Cooper Hewitt/ Smithsonian New York, The Danish Design Museum in Copenhagen, the Victoria and Albert Museum in London -- or any other of your choice..

The Printing Museum 

(http://www.theprintingmuseum.org.nz/index.html)

The Printing Museum ( Inc.) began life over 30 years ago when a group of enthusiasts and professional printers began collecting items of historical and industrial interest. This was at a time when the era of letterpress, the method of printing by mechanical impression that Johannes Gutenberg had perfected in the fifteenth century, was coming to an end. Had it not been for their foresight, many of these wonderful machines - some of which are now listed items of historical interest - would have been lost for ever.

Although not a museum with design focused area this museum captures that same aesthetic through the items themselves. The impact that comes from a well designed exhibition in my opinion can come from the artwork or items themselves. 

Although the printing museum is not in a traditional place of historical significance, the items themselves holds the value of which itself. The industrial machines of printing presses hold a value of historic events that allow us to print as we know it today. 

The surroundings throughout this collection symbolises the industrial feel that the items give, almost as if the items are in their natural habitat of printing studios and workshops. This is just one example of how a gallery/museum can effect the viewing experience. As this example gives us a raw value to the story that is on display.

Theprintingmuseum.org.nz. 2020. Home. [online] Available at: <http://www.theprintingmuseum.org.nz/index.html> [Accessed 8 October 2020].

CONTROLLER OF THE UNIVERSE, 2007

Damián Ortega’s Controller of the Universe is a frozen explosion of hand tools hovering in an almost dreamlike state. These saws, planes, and axes suggest alternative ways to look at tools, in the hope that the experience will transform the visitor’s own ideas about what tools are and mean. Tools can destroy as easily as they can help construct. They extend our body’s abilities and come between us and our direct experience of the action. Ortega explores such dualities in Controller of the Universe. The installation appears threatening at its perimeter, but by way of a cruciform path the artist invites the visitor to experience the optimal viewpoint at the center. The placement of the piece in the exhibition—on axis with "live" images of a pulsating Sun that is part of a separate installation—underscores this perceived control of our universe, while the distant ball of fire reminds us so potently that this is far from the truth. We can tame it at times, use it to help us survive and endure and to enhance our lives in many ways, but we will never control it—even with a world of tools at our fingertips.

Damián Ortega’s use of creating a unique experience is very inspiring. Using tools as a an expression of creativity and the potential of which can be created from. 

The design of this exhibition is a very important one, its very satisfying in how the almost explosion looking design of the tools is paired with a more muted room which could be a metaphor of how creativity is from the power of human potential. The mess of tools contrasting with a blank room also expresses the ideas that without the curiosity and creativity life such as the room would be blank. 

I want to propose an exhibition that allows for such a unique experience such as this one. One that will allow people to walk through and experience almost alone in order to have more of an impact on those who view it.

Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum. 2020. Controller Of The Universe, 2007. [online] Available at: <https://collection.cooperhewitt.org/objects/35460745/> [Accessed 8 October 2020].

Part Two

Contemporary Museum architecture and design Georgia Lindsay

This is especially true when architecture within a gallery space or museum interrupts the flow of the items on display. Sometimes this could compliment the exhibition but in my eyes this is a distraction. 

To create a true experience is to cut down on the barriers that may interact with our interpretation. I think to experiment with my narrative I design design a space that splits the work into a raw state to a point of no barriers. 

This quote also backs up my statement of using the surroundings as a story making device, yet to help myself in creating a cohesive narrative I want to take it one step further and create a room inside a room that contradicts the surrounding room. A room where if someone were to enter they would be taken back into a raw state of mind to see face to face with the portraiture that will be on display. 

Create a space of contemplation and reflection, once again is a path I need to explore when it comes to creating a space that's sole purpose is to do just that. 

[anniversary-magazine]

In Conversation With Conceptual Artist Pedro Reyes

Contemporary conceptual artist and traditional stonemason; architect and activist; engineer and craftsman. The cross-disciplinary nature of Pedro Reyes' work - which encompasses performance, installation, video, sculpture, and activism - makes a strong case for multiplicity.

Acknowledging the poetry of form as well as the power of politics, Reyes' work layers complexity, humor, rigor, and design. Reyes lives and works in Mexico City in a brutalist house of his own design. 

Rosie Robertson (RR) Pedro Reyes (PR)

RR: Having first trained as an architect, you now create time-based, conceptual performance art, and sculptural works; was it a childhood dream to become an architect?

PR: As a child, my grandfather was a significant influence because he taught me algebra and mythology at the same time, he would take a Greek or roman myth, and then he would pose a problem in algebraic terms. For instance, a simple arithmetic problem would be: Jason has to kill the hydra, but can only catch two heads at a time; how hard does Jason have to work? What that taught me was that you could have myths translated into a formula, and those myths could change or be rewritten using the same elements that gave me the keys to eventually perform. On the other hand, my father was also a significant influence because he taught me engineering drawing. He did not mean to impress me, but to give instructions for someone to build something. The acknowledgment that "if you can draw it, you can make it" gave me the necessary skills to become a sculptor.

RR: Coming from an architectural background, does your artistic practice share a similar relationship with the notions of time, space, politics, and the body?

PR: In architecture, you have to respond to a program, you have to solve a problem, which has stayed with me in my art practice. I expect from my pieces some degree of accountability. I am interested in measuring what that impact can be. It actually took me a long time to start making art pieces for art's sake only.

RR: Your artistic output seems highly collaborative, often coordinating/working with several organizations and individuals who contribute to the overall project. Even working with stone must also require many technicians and craftsmen, particularly on a large scale. As it is often stated, 'art cannot be made in a vacuum' - however, I wonder if there is a part of your artistic practice that is more solitary?

PR: Sculpture has always been a collective undertaking. If you walked in a sculptor studio from the Renaissance or other eras of human history, you would systematically find a group of people working on a single carving due to the heavy labor required to carve stone. I am very much interested in keeping that craftsmanship alive. In the studio, some maestros have many years of experience, and some people who started to learn the craft are now on their way to becoming maestros themselves. However, there is a lot of thinking process that must happen in solitary, for me that is mainly distilling thoughts that may be vague ideas that I have found in old books and that I keep in notes, and then at night, I translate into drawings, and those drawings will lead to new works. Drawing is certainly something that requires me to be alone.

RR: You have collaborated with your partner, fashion designer Carla Fernandez. Does having an intimate relationship and in-depth knowledge of each other's work inhibit the work, or does it speed up the process thanks to the 'couples’ shorthand' that inevitably forms in intimate relationships?

PR: Yes, I collaborate with Carla on many projects. We know how to let each other do what they do best, which helps us move projects forward. What is most important, however, is to share a cause and be concerned with a social or political issue. Because when you do some kind of activism, solidarity is essential, even if it is the companionship of a single person, it makes a world of difference.

RR: Your work includes video, sculpture, performance, activism, and installation - does the freedom to work in any medium feel freeing or overwhelming?

PR: Augusto Boal warned us about the "Che Guevara Syndrome," because as Che Guevara made a revolution in Cuba, then he went on emancipating countries and went to Angola and almost got killed, and then went to Bolivia and was killed there. So, the warning is that you have to be careful about the number of revolutions you undertake; if you embrace too many, you may not be able to complete much.

Feeling overcome by the news and the 24-hour news cycle is commonplace - particularly in the current political climate of polemics, outrage, and misinformation. Though it was made in 2013, your work Colloquium is an elegant expression of the present-day political and cultural landscape.

RR: Where do you get your news from, what role does it play in your life, and do you feel that the news cycle feeds your work or distracts you from it?

PR: My news diet is a mix because often, I follow the social media accounts of activist groups, which often are quite radical but give you an unfiltered and critical "temperature" of local environments. Nevertheless, they have a global resonance because you see how things really are. Instagram accounts such as @heavydiscussion and @blackpowderpress, as well as hashtags like #nfac report events that you won't see on the mainstream press. However, I am subscribed to other news outlets such as The Economist, The Guardian, etc.

RR: Though your work often deals with heavy and complex subject matters, the tone is playful and humorous. Fine art, video/performance art, and activism all have a reputation for being somewhat po-faced or self-serious. I wonder if you actively inject humor into your work to change this perception - or to make the work more digestible - or is humor part of your character and the lens through which you see the world?

PR: Studying humor, you find that most jokes have a setup and a punchline. And the way that punchlines work is through shock; in the setup, you have a course of action where you detect that something is going in the wrong direction, but then the punchline is such a big disappointment that the way you cope with that shock is with laughter. I thought to myself what would be an "upward drop," a punchline so hilariously optimistic, so ridiculous, that it also leads to laughter. But most importantly, wild visionary ideas may have more traction than reasonable reforms. It is crucial to have this kind of exaggeration to create a compelling vision.

RR: Do you believe in the power of art and/or politics to inspire or mobilize change? Why?

PR: I believe that by action or inaction, we all shape the world and that art can produce change. If I destroyed 1,527 weapons, I like to think that some lives were saved by taking those guns out of circulation, and if I planted 1,527 trees, that also has an impact. However, I don't think that all art has to serve this purpose. The beauty of art may also be in its purposelessness, where the aesthetic experience has in itself, a use. Life is miserable without art, and culture is a basic need. That is one of the main reasons I am working on reactivating libraries. Reading a book is a life-changing experience, and literacy is one of the few things that has been proved to foster social mobility.

RR: As you mentionned, the 2008 artwork 'Palas por Pistolas' was an invitation to the inhabitants of the Mexican city of Culiacan to donate their guns in exchange for coupons and vouchers. The resulting collection of 1527 deadly firearms was then melted down and turned into garden shovels, which are used for planting trees in schools and art institutions. The spades are potent symbols of optimism and activism - I wonder what is the role of the gallery, and how do works of real-world activism change or transform in the neutrality of the white cube?

PR: I have never shown Palas por Pistolas in a gallery context, it has been shown in biennials and museums, but every time that it is shown, the piece is activated through the planting of trees. The museum has to organize a tree planting, which involves the local community and creates an opportunity to talk about gun control. There are two ways to look at the museum: as a fridge or as an oven. Museums are like fridges in the sense that they have a perfect temperature to keep works safe for posterity, but also, they can work as ovens where you cook new realities, and both functions are essential.

RR: Your work is multi-layered, and the objects presented to the audience have had a life before reaching the gallery space. Is it essential that everyone connects with the work's concept and that they understand its "story"? Or are you at ease with the experience of the work varying depending on the viewer's engagement with it?

PR: Art objects indeed tell a story, but often I am interested in the artwork being a platform for the audience to find a place where they can tell their own story. This is the case of Sanatorium, where there are pieces where I ask the audience to ask a secret, which is anonymous and put inside a bottle, and in exchange, they can read someone else's secret. Or I ask them to write their epitaph, and then you can also learn how different people's epitaphs accumulate. These artworks become more vibrant with the public's input, where content is generated by the user, and they continue to grow through this collective process. When I make instruments, it is up to the musicians to come up with music at the moment of interpretation, so I love doing work that is not a definitive creation, but that is only a steppingstone in the process of collective creativity.

RR: More traditional art forms, such as your sculptures in stone, are more open to interpretation. Are the sculptures rooted in the act of making - more preoccupied with shape, texture, color, and composition - or is there an equally direct 'message' or story behind these works as there is with the activism?

PR: In sculpture, form is meaning, and there is more to form that can be translated into concepts. That's the beauty of it: a sculpture consists of thousands of decisions. These are made during the process, often in a direct battle between hand and material, the sculpture's body, and the force applied to the operation of shaping, of sculpting. You think by doing. Some sculptures are abstract, and others are figurative, and many are something in between, but I certainly produce sculptures that have an "agenda." If I make a bust of a thinker, it works as an index for the body of work of that person, or they may reflect a moment. For instance, in 2016, I made a wood version of the liberty statue, so it looked like a trojan horse. It was a commentary on the permanent state of war where the United States waged war against other countries with the pretext of exporting democracy. The only ones who profit are the military-industrial sector that has hijacked US politics. I also made a Protesters series, where I wanted to retake the format of the statue. Statues have always been prominent figures, mostly men, and I wanted to make a monument to the anonymous protester who takes his own physical body to the streets, nowadays even risking their personal safety as a last resort to produce change.

RR: What do you find more inspiring: nature or man-made structures?

PR: I would say that I am more interested in art than nature. In art, you have interpretation, and I'm always interested in how judgment is produced, how it occurs. However, in sculpture, you still have a very close relationship with nature, mainly because you have to understand the structure of matter.

RR: What is beauty - and what role does it play in your work?

PR: Beauty is a difficult thing to describe or to define, first because the term doesn't have much currency in art. Also, it is a dynamic term, in the sense that there are aesthetic dimensions that vary according to each person's taste. However, when something is well resolved, it is because the artist has spent time taking care of composition, and as he may also be aware of the relevance, the work may have in its current context. If you notice, what I am saying is full of abstractions, it is always easier to pinpoint examples and then talk about its properties.

RR: Which artists, architects, or activists most inspire you?

PR: I have been lucky to have great mentors and teachers, to name a few. Antanas Mockus, a philosopher, mathematician, and former mayor of Bogota, Colombia, has been very influential. In 2016, I also had the chance to work with Noam Chomsky while teaching at MIT, on the making of a theatrical production called "Manufacturing Mischief." Another significant influence has been professor Doris Sommer from the Cultural Agents at Harvard University and writer Lauren Berlant at the University of Chicago.

RR: Do you like to live with your own works?

PR: I do live with my works, and there is a courtyard in the studio where the works spend some months before they are shipped to shows or collections. It is a stone garden where I get to spend time with the works because once they are gone forever. It is there where I test the resilience of the work because you aren't always in control of the context. Hence, the works must be good enough to resist a bad display in the future, so I am still happy to advise the placement and installation of the work.

RR: Any book suggestion(s)?

PR: Currently, I am enjoying reading the biography of Victor Serge, a communist revolutionary.

All images by Alex Lesage

#Pedro Reyes #Sculptor #Activist #Mexico City #Carla Fernandez #Featured

[thechurchillreview]

Contains SPOILERS for Alien (1979), Prometheus (2012), and Alien: Covenant (2017).

The problem I have with both Prometheus and Alien: Covenant is that the Alien proto-Xenomorph (Stupid unconvincing and not scary CGI! No suspense or terror with it this time around...) never needed anything resembling an origin story. These aren't questions I had. Nor answers I ever thought of seeking before. Sometimes, the mysterious should stay, well, a mystery. Alien comic by the always fantastic @faitherinhicks.

In Alien, those aboard the Nostromo are woken up and diverted far away from their charted course home to investigate a message of unknown origin. Kane enters a vagina-shaped looking entrance of a found spaceship, becomes a figurative sperm, touches a mystery egg that a Facehugger then emerges from. From that point forward, Kane’s body serves as an incubator for the titular Alien until some early spoken dialogue comes back to violently haunt him (“I feel dead”). The chestburster ripping out of Kane is one of the most iconic scenes in Alien. It is messy, frightening, and bloody. I mean, jeez, Kane was a victim of clear sexual assault and an unwanted pregnancy kills him in the process! Viewers are given glimpses of something grisly occurring (“Bones are bent outwards...Like he exploded from inside”), but the full disturbing magnitude of the parasitic sexual predator is observed here. Prior to, simultaneously, the audience and Nostromo crew learn that the organism has put Kane into a coma, possesses a defense mechanism of molecular acid-like blood, and can survive adverse environmental conditions.

Heck Alien screenwriter Dan O'Bannon said so himself in the Alien Saga documentary released in 2002. "One thing that people are all disturbed about is sex... I said 'That's how I'm going to attack the audience; I'm going to attack them sexually. And I'm not going to go after the women in the audience, I'm going to attack the men. I am going to put in every image I can think of to make the men in the audience cross their legs. Homosexual oral rape, birth. The thing lays its eggs down your throat, the whole number." The more you know right?

See, Alien chiefly works because of its claustrophobic horror atmosphere combined with its characters being in the dark as much as we too stumble about spliced with the subtext I already mentioned earlier. You feel the tension. You fear and totally envision what the “alien” could be capable of. The human mind's perception of a mysterious horror combined with imagination is ridiculous: hence the strength of the withheld image. This is especially heightened throughout the air ducts scenes. Due to this, akin to the malfunctioning mechanical shark named Bruce in Steven Spielberg’s Jaws (1975), the less the Alien’s Xenomorph is visibly seen, the more compelling and terrifying the reveal moment is.

 And even when information is gathered about the "alien" the humans are still stuck grasping at straws.

 Always one step behind.

 Another cadaver.

Eventually, Nostromo’s seven crew members is whittled down to one. Leaving Ellen Ripley, a science-fiction icon, portrayed by Sigourney Weaver, the last one. Where everyone else failed with attempted teamwork, Ripley triumphs alone. 

Look, Ripley’s function in Alien is to carry the story forward. That it is her story was and remains a big deal in the big Hollywood picture. Ripley is seen briefly (...Sorry) in her underwear towards the conclusion to signify the “conclusion” of her terrible ordeal (the removal of battle attire, how we change out of work clothing and slip into something more comfortable). I used to have a problem with this, but over the years I saw it more as Ripley foolishly lowering her guard too soon (became too cocky before truly winning) while the exposure of her flesh reflects her vulnerability. Earlier in Alien, the men are seen in their underwear too when they’re awakening. The comatose Kane in his underwear medically make sense I believe, yet could be additionally stating his level of vulnerability at the time. I don’t sleep in solely underwear with a shirt. Nope, I prefer jeans and a shirt, always. 

She stealthily and quickly dons astronaut attire, bravely impales the Xenomorph with a harpoon gun shot that sends it into the void of space, and fries it with the engines of the ship burning up the cable to leave it adrift out there. The nightmare is no more. Now mourning, reporting, and sleeping is next.  So, through the aforementioned sexual assault subtext, Ripley isn't depicted as powerless or weak in Alien. She courageously kept her composure and survives against the lethal threat that killed the rest of the Nostromo’s crew. 

Yeah, the one key aspect that both Prometheus and Alien: Covenant have utterly failed is generating another woman on equal footing with Alien’s Ripley. The freaking focus of the Alien prequels is a male robot designed by a male creator. His creator should’ve of comprehended the deeper implications of David’s piano piece selection of instead of outright criticizing his choice. *Shudders* I don’t study music compositions and I know the meaning behind what David chose, jeez. Should’ve destroyed him immediately. Nope, too dumb to think of that.

We do get female characters and in the kindest way possible that I’m typing they’re essentially awful. Elizabeth Shaw has her uterus cut open (courtesy of David poisoning/killing her boyfriend), repairs him, and is experimented/tortured upon. In comparison, after discovering that Ash isn’t human, Ripley finds out all she can before pulling his plug. Shaw fixed an already proven to be duplicitous android…? What a fool. In Covenant, Daniels “Dany” Branson putting too much trust in Walter backfires when the painfully obvious twist towards the end rears its ugly head. Daniels not verbally battling harder for Christopher Oram to reconsider his position before landing on a trap which also goes against the purpose of the Covenant? The fact that Daniels was allowed to speak a famous Ripley line still baffles and enrages me! You’re not her. Neither is that moron Shaw.

Don’t get me started on Oram following David to a lair of Facehuggers after the android tried to befriend an alien that decapitated Covenant crew member Rosenthal. Or Oram abandoning the mission because they perhaps found another suitable colonization location that isn’t seven years away? His choice kicks off the unspeakable horrors his crew faces against. He jeopardized the lives of his crew and almost 2,000 innocent others inside of the Covenant! Oram, you’re seriously an atrocious captain! Or how about Rosenthal not following orders about staying close by whilst freshening up despite witnessing an alien ripping another crew member’s jaw off with a tail swipe? Or Maggie Faris freaking out at the sight of blood, locking Karine Oram inside with the very deceased transforming Ledward, coming back with a weapon, slipping on blood which makes her miss her target, unable to save the being mauled to death Karine, breaking her ankle when running away then falling down often, missing with every shot except for a bunch of exposed blasting explosives than in turn blow up a ship and herself?! Once again, Ripley follows proper quarantine protocol with her captain Dallas, the infected Kane, and Lambert...Until Ash undermines her and lets them inside the ship. Every crew member lacking a helmet since the air is apparently (that’s not suspicious to anyone? Really?) breathable leads to the demises of Ledward and Hallett plus the freshly born alien killing machines. It was their fault for intentionally touching something or stomping around without a care in the world.

 Yes, the sheer idiocy on display in Alien: Covenant is unbearable. Hilarious even. Er, sadly.

The truth is that there’s a barbarous beauty to Alien and with Ridley Scott insisting on prequels to the original classic he's hurting what made Alien so special in the first place.

Look Covenant isn't entirely bad...Just absolutely needless. The ideas within its DNA have considerable merit (same with the previous installment Prometheus) and Scott should of established a new IP instead of piggybacking off of an existing mostly looked upon favorably motion picture brand-name. It is confusing and complex for the sake of it. Covenant notoriously introduces some stuff and then doesn't bother to follow-up on any of them to a degree where it matters in the narrative being told! Such as the theme of love versus duty, to name an example. “Here’s a gay couple! Lope and Hallett! After the fact. Enjoy that cake everyone! Unless you viewed The Last Supper prologue video on Youtube that is.” Um, that is not how you garner praise. Just more deserved derision. Having and reinforcing the script’s couple concept crew might have been interesting. If only Alien: Covenant had bothered to color those finalized paper-thin cut-outs masquerading as genuine individuals and actually followed this angle. 

The alien existing as its own damn unmanufactured species in the depths of space apparently isn’t good enough anymore. The “perfect mysterious organism” has been ruined by Covenant: that’s the truth. Dagnabit! No, the world must have at least three prequels to Alien (Scott hinted at six in all). What the French toast?! Basically, the ideas/themes in Prometheus and Alien: Covenant deserve or should've been in a franchise that isn't remotely connected to Alien. We’re eight entries in (counting the AVP movies). EIGHT! With it would seem six more planned to go, oh my goodness. In other words, don’t waste your breath on Prometheus or Alien: Covenant. They offer misplaced themes, awe from certain gorgeous visuals alongside vexation, bafflement, and unintentional hilarity.  

#alien 1979 #prometheus 2012 #alien: covenant 2017 #ellen ripley #elizabeth shaw #daniels dany branson #sigourney weaver #noomi rapace #katherine waterson #michael fassbender #android david #android walter #faith erin hicks alien comic #ridley scott #john hurt #android ash #ian holm #christopher oram #billy crudup #lope and hallett were a gay couple #demian bichir #nathaniel dean #xenomorph #chestburster #facehugger #maggie faris #amy seimetz #carmen ejogo #karine oram #trigger warning

[mkkusi1990]

The Government Shall Be On His Shoulders

The Government Shall Be on His Shoulders.

The reflection is on Isaiah 9:6- For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given:and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.

This passage is talking about three things embodied into one person who came from the Godhead, 1) Unto us a child is born and a son is given, 2) The

government shall be upon his shoulder, and 3) His name shall be called…. These three things can be known as 1) The Mission of the Messiah, 2) The Mandate of the Messiah, and 3) The Meaning of the Messiah.

1)    The Mission of the Messiah.

The Bible recounts that it was given to us that a child is born and a son is given.

This is important because Christ’s prerogative was us,  and he was imparted to God

for our redemption, our righteousness, and our reckoning. It speaks of a son being

given, not just birthed. Throughout the Old Testament, many sons were given,

Isaac to Abraham, Jacob to Issac, Solomon to David, but this child would be

different even though all these men were part of his lineage. He would be the

sacrifice that God demanded of Isaac, the one who upheld the Israel of Jacob, and

the wise one who would not fall as Solomon did.

         This unto us is important because it describes Jesus as being born for all of

our sake, not just the sake of his mother Mary, or to his tribe or to his nation.

The word ben in Hebrew is a singular masculine noun meaning son. This describes the function of Jesus, that he would be a singular and composite birth that would be the sacrifice of God. A noun is the name for a person, or a place, and this is Christ. Not only is Christ a person in the Son of Man, he is the place we look to for our refuge and our fortress. Just as sons look like their parents, Jesus took after his Father, our Father in heaven. And because Christ is a person, the Spirit of God has a personhood as well. The Bible says in Genesis 2, Let us make man in our image after our likeness. Since man was made in God’s image, Christ when he came down and was born could be called both the Son of Man and Son of God.   John 3:16 says, For God loved the world so much that he gave…… The difference between God’s love and our sins  in this instance required a sacrifice, and a perfect one.

The Bible also says in Galatians 3:13 that Cursed is he who hangs on a tree. Not only was man cursed who hung from a tree, but the ground was cursed and the animals too. In Genesis 3, God spoke not only to Adam and Eve, and to Satan, but to the ground and creation. The same creation that God declared good, was now pronounced tarnished.  Jesus’ birth was a deep cleansing from the contaminant of sin and Satan. So not only did this birth have to be a sacrifice, and perfect, but it would have to have the anointing strong enough to break curses.It would also need the anointing not only to break, but to give.

Just as Jesus was given, so he also gave. He exchanged the comforts of heaven for the cold of earth, mansions for mangers, and angels for animals at birth. The star that followed him at birth was the same star he would gaze down upon in the night sky in the heavens. The gifts that were given to him, he made at Creation. So all of the sacrifice Jesus did, including his birth, was because he loved us. He gave his life knowing that people would despise him, reject him, and do even worse. The Bible says that greater love have no man than this that a man lay down his life for his friends, but Christ came down for the greatest love of all, agape love, that he laid down his life so that everyone could be saved, and the bondage of sin could be broken.

2)    The Mandate of the Messiah.

Further down in the passage it says that the government shall be on his shoulder. Throughout history and the Bible there were many governments, the Egyptian, Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian, Greek, Roman, and others too numerous to mention here. Even the Israelites in 1 Samuel 8:19-20 says that they wanted a king. It is the inclination of man to want to follow, but in the wrong hands it does and did lead to disaster.

  This verse does not speak of a mere king, but a government. Government is a system, while kings are one person a country has to depend on. The Bible speaks of the arm of flesh will fail, and oftentimes this arm is attached to the power of leadership.Instead of the arm of flesh, God has instituted that the government will be on God’s shoulders. The word shall is a covenant word, that means that the one performing the activity has to get it down. God is a God of covenant. A covenant is a commitment and a vow for one party to do a given act. When God said the government shall be on Christ’s shoulders, this was in spite of Pharoah throwing the babies into the Nile, Haman’s plots, and Herod’s orders to execute the firstborn. This prophetic utterance was the mandate that Christ has come to set us free, and set us free he did. And God made covenant both with mankind and with himself, because he had no one stronger to swear to. So when he declared shall be, God said to Christ, The government will be on your shoulders, and this is your responsibility.

The government of God can be divided into three components, a) The judicial function, b) The legislative function, and c) The executive function.

a)    The judicial function.

The government that is on Christ’s shoulders has a judicial function. This judicial function is to pronounce judgment and render justice or mercy. In the beginning of creation after each day, God said it was good. This was the judgment of the holiness and the righteousness of creation. But after the fall, everything changed, Instead of creation being good, everything in life became work, and hard, and toil, and painful. When God made the prophetic announcement that the government shall be on Christ’s shoulders, he also meant that because the work and hard and pain would be on Christ, it would be taken off of us. Isaiah 10:27 says, And it shall come to pass in that day, that his burden shall be taken away from off thy shoulder, and his yoke from off thy neck, and the yoke shall be destroyed because of the anointing. This burden was taken off our shoulder, because the better anointing of the government of Christ was on the shoulders of Jesus. We have been set free, and any judgment or ordinance that put us in bondage has been set aside.

 The earth appealed for a Savior, and God sent an Advocate who spoke on our behalf, and then stepped back to be a Judge who rendered mercy and grace to us. In order to Christ to be an effective Advocate he had to be admitted to the courts of the Most High. The Devil was kicked out of heaven for unlawful access, that is, he tried to do what he was not admitted to do by God by trying to usurp his authority. God and only God can pronounce judgment and share glory with no one. So the Advocate comes in to plead our case. In Isaiah 63:1 it says that: Who is this coming from Edom in crimson-stained garments from Bozrah- this One who is splendid in His apparel, rising up proudly in His great might? It is I, proclaiming vindication, powerful to save. God came to set us free and he heard our appeal. Revelation 5:1, 5 says: “ And I saw in the right hand of him that sat on the throne a book written within and on the backside, sealed with seven seals. And one of the elders saith unto me, Weep not: behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, hath prevailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals thereof.”  The Advocate came not only to plead our case, but to speak against that attorney general of the government of hell, Satan. They both gave opening and closing statements, and Jesus won our case. The temptation in the wilderness was a court proceeding that went on for 40 days and 40 nights, and it was a place where the defendants, who were us, were not there. Christ took on our case and won, and it was the beginning of his ministry. The tempter’s case was thrown out of court, and The Advocate stands by God’s right hand to speak good things of us to set us free.

b)   The legislative function.

The legislative function of government is to pass laws and make sure the ordinances of the country are established. The Holy Spirit performs this function, but for so many years, it was only imparted to a few people. Only a few chosen people had access to the father, and even then, access was limited because mankind was not yet deemed worthy for full access. Moses wanted to see God but God only showed him his backside as it says in Exodus 33:23. It says that God’s face could not be seen. Samson, Saul, and David all had the Spirit of God in them, who was the Holy Spirit, but they had their failings and even David committed acts like adultery and murder. The Spirit of God moved on the face of the waters, but God had to tie the impartation of the Holy Spirit with the other personhood of the Godhead, Jesus, so that people could not only have the Holy Spirit in them, they could know how to live. Ordinances like the Ten Commandments, and Hammarabi’s Code before them told people what to do, but it could not tell people how to be because being is a lifestyle regulated by the divine inside of us. So the Holy Spirit was imparted, and as it is said in Acts 1, he came for and to all that believe in Jesus.

[creativeconmans]

The Batman Rant

It’s always a bit embarrassing to have your first blog post. Especially if it’s a rant. Moreso if you catch yourself trying to be profound in doing so. With this bit of self-observation out of the way, I’d like to talk about something that has happened some time ago: Batman #50.

Now, I shall do something horrible and assume that everyone reading this knows the arc and issue in question – and all the rest of you people don’t care enough to be hurt by any and all spoilers this post may contain.

I have, living in Russia, discovered the whole arc of the Batcat wedding only recently. The stories precluding the wedding were… different, though not too meaningful, soap opera in DC Universe, which is more or less standard, wrapped up in some of the best art I have seen in popular media. Thanks for that trend. And then came the issue of a wedding that has been built up for a year not happening, that began with a series of very, very questionable choices by both characters, which turned out to be a catastrophe instead. That is, by the way, how I found out about the existence of Tom King and that spoke volumes to me about his writing.

But if that was all, I don’t think it would really merit blogging about it. I have studied some threads – what few I could find – where the fans stated their own reactions not to the spoiler (I actually think this could have been damage control from DC – spoil the issue so that people don’t crash too hard), but to the story. Only three points emerged throughout, and that was that

a.       People loved Tom King and his writing (apparently)

b.       People thought that DC considered marriage toxic

c.       People think that breaking the Bat has been done so many times it’s not even remotely funny. Not even in the Joker’s terms. Although, perhaps…

There were a couple of less frequently encountered points – and one of them was that a fulfilled – if not happy – Bruce Wayne would be, in fact, far more effective at stopping shit from happening that a permanently hurt fellow who needed his crusade to keep functioning. I sort of second that - a fulfilled Bat would have systematically empowered Gotham police and call upon his resources – League resources – to ensure specifically that threats were deconstructed on a more or less permanent basis.

But also throughout – and I may severely aggro the larger crowd now – there is, I think, a vast misunderstanding of two things. First is the fact that writers who keep dishing out the ‘No Bat without pain’ mantra severely misunderstand the character of Batman. In fact, in the King’s run, even his closest friends and family misunderstand Batman.

The second – is the fact that the writers aren’t in it to tell good stories. The game of writing has long since been forcibly changed.

At first, stories were made to convey meaning, from deep moral truths to memes to hitting your neighbor on the head with a sword and laminating his women being a good idea.

Then the stories were made to entertain at least, and at most - to force people to actually think before they act – and this is how the stories since circa 200 B.C. were written. Whether it is the classic Chinese epics or the cornerstones of French literature, or the Greeks or the Romans – this is how you normally find your story.

And then come the more recent times, and the invention of the printing press, and the proliferation of both basic literacy and paper. Suddenly there is more and more opportunity for more and more people to write – to tell stories for a living. They write, they draw, they paint, they make moving pictures. And a few of them find themselves in large collectives that are so stable that they can finally create a lasting mythos.

What would you do, if you suddenly found out you could create something that would – quite probably – outlive you and your children? What if it turned out to be so influential, even while being regarded as insignificant, that people would want more and more of it, would pay dearly for it? And what would you do, if suddenly control of such legacy, built well before you were born, fell into your lap?

Regardless of the answer, in our case the ever-winning pragmatism and child-like directness of people in power would dictate they would make money off those who believe in the legacy and want it continued.

That practical, inevitable decision suddenly makes everything else fall into place. One sees the audience not as your followers to be respected, nor a herd to be guided, nor even a crowd to be pleased, but as an opponent to be taken advantage of. And against an opponent you must arm yourself.

And with this opponent that is a renewing, rotating group of people, you have two specific goals in mind. One, to make your opponent pay for your product more than once, and preferably – for all your products. Two, to make sure your opponent is never destroyed, never pays too much, never stops – in short, never, ever hurt your opponent so much he won’t come back for more.

The shortest route to achieving Objective One is – forgive me for belaboring the obvious – to force your opponent to buy your product. Now we all know that under current labor market conditions men with tommy guns are a bit expensive to hire, too troublesome and can be creatively undirected – in the sense that they are as likely to sell your product to yourself as well as the target audience and then pocket the money. So if actual violence is impossible, our weapon of next resort is trickery and lies.

Now, it can – and, I’m sure, has been – successfully argued that people would enjoy being lied to, provided the lies were good and entertaining enough and told with a straight face and never weighed any on their pocket. The whole history of storytellers seems indeed to prove the point. Hence, the people of creative foundry in general seem to have adopted the tactics of lies.

So okay, people are lying to you. Some of them are even telling lies so that you, while listening or reading those, can arrive to a certain truth, perhaps even something deep. Or even profound. Where is the harm in that? Even if, in time, they start lying for the sake of you paying, and nothing else.

But there is a downside to a lie, and that is, once it has served its purpose it can only be discarded. No one will ever believe a lie told twice – or three times. No matter how you dress it up, people who have encountered it twice or more will recognize it, and react accordingly.

And so we come to a dilemma – we either tell different lies and change the legacy until we run out of believable lies, or maybe we stop telling lies, which would put us out of work and out of money.

This is where the nature of the target audience throws storytellers a rope. Storytellers, have easy times dealing with the young and the naïve, people who have not yet been duped many times, who keep having hopes and dreams of getting something out of every deal, every truth, every lie – everything. And their supply is replenishing, what with new people being born daily and all.

But telling old lies to new people only gets you so far – they can be easily inoculated by the older crowd who we have already lied to, successfully or not. Furthermore, the Internet and its propagation makes it harder and harder to peddle the same thing. You suddenly find that your consumer has collectively evolved and simple trick work no longer – they have already been seen and done and examined and analyzed to death.

You therefore must expand your repertoire of tricks and lies, and this is where the con comes into it. The long con.

Modern writing involves playing with your audience – in fact, running a long con on your audience. There is, in writing and drawing and filmmaking – in storytelling in general – an implicit promise. The promise is that a story will take you places, and that the world you heard about would change, and probably you yourself might change with that. It is that promise and hope of its fulfillment that makes one read a new story (barring professional readers, but those aren’t really a large crowd), invest time and emotion into it and its characters, willingly suspend disbelief as it comes. And it is that promise that is, in modern days, routinely and completely broken.

Which is where the long con comes into play.

A modern writer’s job is to make a script that fulfils the following objectives by any and all means:

1.       Make people want to read what’s in their hands

2.       Make people want to read the next one

The first objective is normally achieved with good graphics and composition and a story that is not entirely moronic, but mostly it is helped by the fact that once you buy a book – or a comic book, or whatever – it’s normally a waste not to finish it through (That has happened to me once or twice, though).

But the second one – that one’s a doozy. The term ‘plot hook’ now defines something that has evolved past simple hooking and into something that more resembles ‘plot anchoring drill’. Or whatever it is they anchor floating oil rigs with.

The original plot hooking mechanism worked on two simple mechanics – one, creating a gestalt that, by design, cannot be completed, until and unless the next piece of the story is experienced,  two, promising that it will be completed in the next piece of the story in a satisfactory manner.

The actual execution of the scheme have long been any and all variants of a cliffhanger to a varied degree, but unresolved plot points also work towards the same goal, provided the main story is not concluded (i.e. the narrator isn’t planning to stop talking).

So where is the con?

If you analyze so many stories in the comic books of the Big Two – which is what actually prompted this post – you realize there have been supposedly radical changes throughout the comicbook universe, except they have amounted to nothing much. It is like a soap opera (Santa Barbara, perhaps), where everything keeps happening and nothing ever gets really resolved, because nothing ever really changes. Least of all, the direction.

In that regard, the canonic Batman suffers perhaps the most, both as a comic line and as the character. Every single positive influence that anything can possibly have has been for the recent years disintegrated either by some random villainous plot or by some immature and questionable choice of his own – except it really was the writer’s choice in every occasion.

But you know – you know – it will turn out okay in the end, right? Except it won’t. There is, for comicbook characters, an extremely specific baseline which determines what they are, and they aren’t allowed to be pretty much anything else. One thing that Batman is not allowed to be, for example, is efficient.

Another thing is apparently happy, but I have always – or at least since I started thinking about it – that it betrays either conscious manipulation on the writers’ part, or their complete lack of understanding of Batman as a character and as a man. We have been sold the ‘Happy man cannot be batman’ idea several times by now, but the rationale behind it is very, very questionable.

Let’s set aside for a moment the fact that Batman as a character is a paradox – anyone who has the sheer amount of will and determination to become as prepared for most conceivable situations could not have neglected his own emotional maturity, or lack thereof.

It is unrealistic that the man behind the cowl still has the same things and thoughts driving him fifteen years – and four Robins, and a tragedy, and a son, and several lovers, and countless instances of severe psychological ordeal and heartbreak after he had first started his crusade.

His personal trauma was the driving factor at the start of his career – and it was believable there and then. But after all these events – if the man is a living, sane creature not bent on self-loathing or self-torture (and such a person would have broken right about two world crises earlier) – he would want to be changed.

Which was in part why the idea of the Batman finally marrying Cat of all people (and which guy, exactly, hasn’t had a girlfriend not unlike the Cat in his life?) was sold very well. Depicting the romantic intimacy masterfully helped quite a bit. But the final ingredient, as it were, the core of all cons, was the hope. The hope that this time, this fellow who has survived chaos, murder, trauma to his loved ones, countless assaults on his sanity, couple of deaths in the family, psychological torture and continuous work well past the point of human endurance (mental and physical) deserves some happiness, especially where he had only to make a step to do it. The readers’ hope that finally everything would turn out right in the damn imaginary world that has seen too many wrongs. And it took a very long time and many plot arcs – not all of them particularly good – to settle the plot points and prepare the world for a transition…except the said transition never happened.

The number of gestalts formed throughout the arc numbers in dozens, all of them hitting a very specific group of emotions within the readers. Each and every marriage prelude pointed towards some serious character growth and a fulfilling resolution, despite the fact that Bruce Wayne is no Oliver Queen (but we know from the Arrow series that Ollie wants to face just as many sadistic choices as Bruce). And then it all gets spectacularly destroyed, all the gestalts incomplete.

With each incomplete gestalt the reader has formed comes a need – of varying power and degree – to see that gestalt completed, to see the resolution, and more specifically – the one resolution that has been pointed at and that the reader is hoping for. Some writers go so far as to push the hopes of readers into a specific direction, only to tear the gestalts in two later on.

And they do it consciously. The unfulfilled needs create a certain drive in the reader – or viewer. And the very first place where a frustrated reader will look in hopes of fulfillment and proper gestalt completion is the same place where the gestalt was created. Translated into consumer behavior, it means that #50 has virtually guaranteed a psychological need in its target audience to buy issues #51-#100. You can even see Tom teasing the audience with flashback pictures of Bat/Cat romantic scenes taken out of context, fueling the fire and bolstering future sales of hopeful, young, naïve and emotional consumers.

But the real bitch of it is, the con works if you emotionally invest in the story. In fact, it will work even if you take specific steps to prevent your own emotional investment. An unfinished story means an incomplete gestalt, and it is a micro-trauma for one’s psyche far more often than not (I believe there are times when implied completion of the story – and gestalt – is far more scary and traumatic than incompletion, but you’d have to talk to a practicing psychologist to be certain of that).

And so to the point. After #50 it has become clear that all Batman readers have been conned by Tom King et al into believing there was a chance of change. Especially those who missed his earlier statements about breaking the Bat – because, you know, the Kult didn’t do that (despite the series specifically stating it to be so), and Bane didn’t do that, and the Joker didn’t do that already.

And even as that is apparent, people – me, admittedly and regrettably, included – continue to hope for a better resolution, for Bat/Cat pair to drift back together and at least be no worse off than where they started… forgetting for the moment that the only real thing that could repair feelings on both sides is an actual consummation of marriage, impossible as it sounds. And since it is the only way to really repair the Bat/Cat pair, it probably won’t happen.

Nevertheless, people won’t stop forcing themselves to hope, because to lose the hope in good resolution would, for the hapless reader (also ‘punter’ or ‘sucker’ in this instance), be to lose hope of satisfying his own emotional needs – even if they originated – or became actualized – in an utterly fictional story.

There are worse conmen on the market of creative writing than Tom et al – one could probably write a short book on those – but this is probably the first time since the con has been ran on people with this much deliberation, for this long, using this particular base spectrum of emotions, and with such a long-term sales plan in mind.

 So I postulate here and now, that the creative writing industry has finally become its own dark apex – it has necessitated manipulation and traumatization of readers through proxy of characters and it will, if left unchecked, have very serious and detrimental influence on both the readers and on writers. It will, if left unchecked, become a one-sided war of educated psychologists versus uneducated mass consumers. And, if left unchecked, it will by necessity upgrade the writers from creators of monsters into monsters themselves.

Not all writers are creators of monsters. But it has been something of a trend that so many of them are, and are lauded for it.

All we can do, perhaps, is educate ourselves and our young to fight, to perceive stories as means of manipulation and traps, to search for truths in a more profound way than what the mass industry offers.

Or maybe we can do nothing - but hope.

#Bat/Cat Batman Comics Psychology Con Rant

[daddyblondlegs]

The 14th and 15th

It was one helluva weekend here in France.

Saturday was Bastille Day, and I’d managed to hear about a fireworks show in Parc Mistral from a worker at the market. While Paris’ ever-so iconic firework silhouette is it’s Eiffel tower, Grenoble’s own version—a failed and condemned observation tower built between wars—became the city’s centerpiece for the celebration. Crowds were gathered in spots that weren’t blocked by the canopy of trees, and if there was a place to stand, you likely couldn’t see the whole thing. They let you get fairly close that night, close enough that when the wind blew hard you were actually underneath some the explosions, which made for a new experience.

Sunday, France became world champions and thereby leading to my own feelings of bittersweetness. Originally I wanted to see the smugness wipe off their faces being unable to secure a semi-finalist position, but that had changed about a week ago and now all I wanted to see was what it was like to be in a country after they won the World Cup. When the final game was called, people hadn’t erupted as I thought they would—perhaps because there was no surprise by the end. Those gathered around screens in a small city square began to walk in the direction of Place Victor Hugo, a large park that functions as the center of the city. People continuously flowed out of alleys and streets towards the park, many donned with a tricolor flag around their shoulders, and almost all with red, white, and blue on their cheeks. The tram route soon became a river of French flags. Teenage boys mounted the roofs of tram stops and motorcyclists made sure they became the center of attention.

How long does the feeling of excitement last? Meaning, the genuine feeling that you can’t control, and not something put on because the occasion calls for it. I’d say no more than thirty minutes. Yet after a couple of hours, people were still shouting, throwing firecrackers, laying on their horns. A wasted girl repetitively yelling in mine and others faces “On a gagner!” or “We won!” in sort of a songlike chant. Those on top of the tram stops continued jumping wildly and testing the engineering of the public infrastructure—my fingers weren’t crossed hard enough because none of them collapsed though they flexed like they were moon bounces. It seemed that the revelry continuing was now fueled not by the feeling of good fortune but of alcohol, or even worse, more primal urges.

Someone had busted out several glass panels of the center’s tram stops, I saw people throwing bottles at a bus which put a hole its rear window, boys would climb on top of cars waiting at the light. It had evolved into something far different than a World Cup celebration for some people. As I observed, it was a bit miraculous that shop windows were untouched and no one was hurt other than the crying youth who’d likely gotten too close to a stray firecracker. Even more miraculous, or rather impressive, is that guys tearing through the streets on their dirt bikes managed to hold their nearly perpendicular wheelies for so long. I’d seen these dirt bike boys before (maybe not these particular dirt bike boys, but ones altogether similar) a few months back at this same tram stop in the heart of the city. I watched a pack of about twenty driving illegally on dirt bikes, scooters, and four-wheelers making sure everyone heard their particular composition of “bnrrrr bnrrrr bnrrrr bnrrrr”. Demographically speaking, these weren’t the types of Frenchmen you’d encounter in the city one hundred years ago, but were likely first or second generation immigrants living in the outskirts of the city. These boys had returned for the celebration, but weren’t the whole of the mess.

Though Place Victor Hugo was flooded with chaos, nothing detrimental had really happened in spite of the absence of any police presence. It was about two hours after the match before I saw any police at all, which now drove by in a convoy of about eight, hurriedly passing the erupting crowds and out toward the river. I’d lost a bit of my sheepishness and began to go through the crowds toward the train station which is the normal route I took to school. Amidst the uproar there was sort of a weird mix of people on the street. Some people seemed to be strolling along completely oblivious to the fact that firecrackers of all sizes could go off right beneath you, while younger boys continued to run around instigating the whole mess. A group of boys began running in the opposite direction of where I was headed, faster than the general crowds along the sidewalk. Shortly after I realized why: the riot police were coming and firing canisters of tear gas at a generous pace. It doesn’t matter how often you cut onions, you never quite get used to the feeling.

Some boys had drug things out into the street preventing cars from passing. I turned to look at something similar to an oversized empty toilet paper roll that had just landed and wasn’t sure if I’d seen it spurt smoke. I looked a little higher to see a man in a car frantically waving for me to get away. It was a big one. You could feel it in your chest. After hours of hearing firecrackers bursting in crowded places, one became numbed to the explosions but acute to the sound of things tinkling along the pavement. Between the firecrackers and tear gas, I became increasingly skittish at rustling paper blowing on the side walk or people dropping things. 

I could have gone home at any time but continued to roam and finally found a big group of police. They were standing on a long, straight set of tram tracks facing south. A few police vans and clusters of police in riot gear stood between a destroyed tram stop and small fires in the street. To my left was the white outline of a dumpster fully ablaze in an alley. The small fires in front of me were of the same sort, and I assume so were those even further down burning even brighter. As the night wore on, red and blue smoke from celebrators became a purple haze, but soon enough made way for the monochromatic smoke of spinning tires, burning trash, and tear gas.

I stood there for some deal of time as the police collected someone from a van and put him in the back of a squad car. There wasn’t much going on this side of the police, I thought, so I headed to the other side where the fires were fresh. There on a street corner, there were at least six or seven small plastic dumpsters fueling a fire so big that no one stood but fifteen feet from it.  Dirt bikers made circles with their back tires in the middle of the intersection creating a thick fog and impeding traffic. It was Lord of the Flies in all its glory; everything was amiss. As a boy with his shirt forming an impromptu mask/gas-mask pulled a fresh dumpster into the flames, people began to run. The police were on the move. 

For the sake of my own well-being, I mosied on over toward a European-sized firetruck waiting for the all clear. However, no one is truly safe from frantic riot police that are in over their heads and are willing to shoot crowd deterrents into relatively distant, benign groups of people. The most used of these deterrents is shot of disks that spark and spray smoke a bit to give a warning, and which were sometimes fired too close for comfort. The police managed to clear out everyone so that the firemen could enter—from start to finish it took about fifteen minutes for these emergency services to do their jobs.

In 1812, Napoleonic forces had tried to overtake Russia by advancing on Moscow. Though the French troops may have been more superior fighters, the Russians thwarted advancements in part to a scorched-earth policy of burning fields as they retreated. Napoleon’s forces failed because they were fighting the environment and not the enemy, and it seemed little had changed in two hundred years. The police advanced in a Napoleonic lock-stepped regiment, only advancing once a fire had been extinguished. The time it took between each fire was far slower than what the guttersnipe needed to start them, and as a result, as one walked down along the tram track there were at least two dumpster fires between each demolished tram stop. I walked further south away from the police line, and the fires got bigger as the city turned into the poor districts. The smell of burnt trash intensified as the incoming rain clouds pushed the air downwards. It started as a few drops on the arm and then enough to be seen in front of headlights, but it never picked up enough to be of any aid.

Soon enough, I happened upon some of the boys responsible for destroying the tram stops. If you want to know how a rock going through a plate of glass sounds, it’s just like someone knocking down a row of icicles—a thud and a light scattered sound on either side of a short bout of silence. Had the police wanted to stop these boys, they could have caught up with them in about ten minutes of walking as I had; instead, the vandals remained unabated in their open territory. The police were completely predictable and all one had to do was to keep their distance between themselves and those blue flashing lights directly down the line.

Further from the city still I walked, the general hysteria was removed yet somehow things managed to only get worse as they got quieter. I passed a woman in tears who had just discovered that her car windows were gone. But she should have just as well considered herself lucky. The side-street her car was parked on was perforated with cars on their tops; I think I passed nearly a dozen. All of the others had at least a window knocked out. It must have happened a good deal earlier, because the only people around were those sitting in silence alongside their buildings. 

It was dark and the hope of rain had now actualized, and I was far from home. The only way back was to return in the direction towards the police, but the sight of people running from that direction meant it probably wasn’t a great idea. I turned at the first side street which was dimly lit in an orangey-yellow. A group of boys of about fifteen to twenty in number and fifteen to twenty in age did the same running by me. One tried to hurry the group, “VITE!” as another called out “MARCHEZ!” to get them all to walk and act casual. They slinked around me and around cars forming a shapeless unit disorganized but no doubt together. I wouldn’t have known the time had someone not asked me for it. “Deux, deux, deux, deux,” I said. “22:22?” one replied. “Uh, ouais” I confirmed. In my defense, I was a bit shook up and felt kind of vulnerable being in that part of town. Besides, it was more fun to say it how I had.  

The long walk home in the rain provided a moment for reflection. I wasn’t sure how Americans would have acted in this situation or if they would have been any more proactive in the aiding the police. Then again, it may be something occurring in the States’ urban areas. Americans’ dislike for police is that they do too much, while in France it seems that the dislike comes because they police don’t do enough. The bureaucratic nature of the country has seemed to seep even into its emergency services. Police weren’t around to provide order in the beginning, and by the time they had arrived it was too little, too late. Their lack of creativity only gave vandals a sense of security befriended by the fact that the French themselves aren’t much in the way of taking charge. The difference between the way the French police had handled the situation and the way the German police had (from earlier posts) seemed like night and day. The German police were already positioned before fans arrived, came in droves, and managed to keep things from escalating—the French let thing escalate by arriving during the thick of it and lacked the necessary forces to suppress it.

It all seemed a bit bizarre that the opportunity to cause havoc was always there, yet these individuals chose a time when the police were the most active and the public the most aware. My guess was these rebellious teens rely on the general public’s behavior for which they determine their own behavior. If you set the speed limit to 50, people will do 60 and if you change it to 60, people will do 70. It may have been that while the city temporarily devolved, those positioned on the outskirts, here both physically and socioeconomically, shifted into deeper waters. Yet, the extent to which they went was far from the nature of “boundary testers”. Maybe the problem is that with boys and intensified situations, outcomes don’t always come to anything calculated, or perhaps the distance of these boys from the social core was already so far that being pushed further was absurdly destructive. Never having invested in the society and remaining outsiders, they may have not perceived their actions as evil because what they destroyed had little value for them. The tram stops, trash bins, and car windows were little more than the peripherals of a world they may feel they’d never truly be a part of.

Souvenirs from the night: glass from a tram stop and an emptied smoke canister.

#Grenoble #World Cup riot #France