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arcenciel-par-une-larme · 3 years

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genuine question, how is 'voting with your money' in a conservative society good but 'cancel culture' bad? Surely if lgbt people don't want to work with people who think they are sinners, they should be allowed to fire them, because that's their right? This strikes me as a contradiction but lmk if i'm wrong

You seem to be bringing two issues at the same time into this, but I’ll try to cover them both.

Surely if lgbt people don't want to work with people who think they are sinners, they should be allowed to fire them, because that's their right?

This can easily lead us into very unpleasant territory if you expand this to its logical conclusions.

By definition, we Christians believe that everyone who has ever walked this earth (ourselves included BTW) is a sinner. Romans 3 is pretty much a summary exposition of that. It means that we have committed wrongdoings and dwelt in evil or impure thoughts. If, as such, people started firing those who thought they are in sin, Christians would be completely unhirable in zero time.

Furthermore, although I have no formal legal expertise to speak of, even so I have a feeling that, from a legal standpoint, this would also be nothing short of a disaster area. Imagine telling a court of law something amounting to “I decided to fire this person because he believes that I have offended his God in whom I don’t even believe”: it boils down to theological differences and little, if anything, else. If this somehow managed to establish itself as a legit precedent, it would lead to all kinds of religious discrimination overnight.

how is 'voting with your money' in a conservative society good but 'cancel culture' bad?

There are some important differences between the two, and I shall try to explain them to the best of my ability.

1. “Voting with your money” (henceforth VWYM), as I am aware of the term, has more to do with an individual choosing to support or not to support different businesses, either through purchasing their products or deciding to work for them. Cancel culture (henceforth CC), on the other hand, describes situations where societal clout is mobilised in order to mark certain individuals as “problematic” and as such to make it more difficult (if not nigh impossible) for them to make a living or to be respected in polite society.

2. VWYM is mainly concerned with current causes and practices espoused by a business. CC can be triggered by literally anything, even decades-old tweets which the author might even have regretted.

3. Likewise, people who VWtheirM do not seem to mind granting again their patronage to businesses who correct their practices and espoused beliefs. CC has shown again and again that its adherents are not interested in any sort of forgiveness; they alone are right, always; and it’s always one strike and you’re out.

4. Most people who VWtheirM, although usually making their grievances known and trying to convince others to boycott this or that firm, are not fixated on aligning everybody with their causes and preferences. Cancelers, on the other hand, are rarely satisfied with anything short of nationwide (or even international), unanimous outrage against those whom they choose to target. Hence why CC typically leverages social media outrage mobs, and why anybody who does not join them is also added to the “problematic people” list and considered complicit.

5. Whereas slander and half-truths seem to be CC’s bread-and-butter, it is increasingly rarer in the grand scheme of VWYM. In fact, you might have noticed that one of the most oft criticised aspects of cancel culture is how it relies on demonising people and considering them evil, as well as the lack of proportionality between the alleged “crime” and the sought punishment.

6. VWYM rarely has to do with what we call “punching down”. CC rarely has any qualms about “punching down”.

7. Perhaps the best explanation is given by @Wokal_Distance on Twitter:

The most common form of cancel culture is using social media to create mobs that create social and financial consequences for people who hold views the cancelers don’t like. Usually the cancelers seek to get a person fired but sometimes settle for reputation destruction. This is what people are talking about when they talk about cancel culture.

It’s not that there is a shortage of platforms from which to express an opinion, nor are they upset about garden-variety shunning (“I’m not your friend anymore”, “You can’t come to my birthday” etc) from peers.

Cancel culture means a guy I’ve never met, in a state where I don’t live, can see a video that I didn’t film, of a thing that I didn’t say to him, and get me fired from my job providing a service that he doesn’t use.

Again, that’s as far as I could think about the issue right now. @anscathmarcach @ask-a-baptist @theindependentconservative @siryouarebeingmocked @bransrath and anybody else, please feel free to contribute as you see fit.

#personal post archive #cancel culture

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mermaidsirennikita · 2 years

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Hi! I noticed you’re a sailor moon fan, what do you enjoy about the series? Thoughts on Usagi and Mamoru’s romance and Haruka/Michiru?Love your blog :D

Thank you so much!

I actually got into Sailor Moon when I was about 11ish and a friend of mine lent me her copies of the manga and I... never gave them back. So I think my introduction to the series is a bit different from a lot of people, who got into it through the anime (not better, just different). I didn't watch a lot of anime growing up, and although I was vaguely aware of it, I wasn't familiar with the plot, and I think I'm kind of lucky that I didn't get a super (I mean, it was an English translation of the manga so everyone was called like, Serena and Darien and shit like that... I'm now collecting the Eternal editions of the manga) bastardized version of the story. Like, I was never under the impression that Haruka and Michiru were anything but lovers, lol.

But yeah, it was right around the time that I was reeeeeeally figuring out what I was into (I got into Twilight around the same time) and I was just super taken by the romantic aspects of the series. I remember reading the bit when Usagi and Mamoru had that super passionate~ makeout in his apartment, and she was wearing this jumper type dress with a blouse underneath, and then in the next scene she was wearing his jacket and there was.... no blouse. It made me FEEL THINGS and I still value those memories. I was gifted the Eternal edition with that scene this past Christmas, actually, and I IMMEDIATELY flipped to that scene to make sure they hadn't censored it, lmao.

Usagi and Mamoru just kind of had everything. She was the girly girl, he was a bit too old for her (which I know is a cultural thing, and I know there's some fucked up shit going on there, but again, I first read all of this when I was a child) and he teased her because he liked her. It was this idea that he was almost literally pulling her pigtails because he couldn't handle how into her he was.

And then you have him become AN EVIL PRINCE??? I am a fucking sucker for the brainwashed evil lover thing. At the time, it was like the most intense shit of my life lmao. I literally stayed up into the late hours reading the manga, with Usagi being forced to MURDER HIM because he had become wicked, but at the last minute he was good again? All of if it was just very much what I think you want as a young girl, in terms of romantic intensity. It still very much shaped what I like today, as I think anyone who knows my fictional sensibilities can attest.

Regarding Haruka and Michiru, I'll be real--I was brought up in a pretty conservative home (to be clear, my mother has since become a card carrying liberal--no comment on my father) and I was not super exposed to queer love? Haruka and Michiru were really one of the first queer couples I ever shipped, and I think they also shaped a lot of my sensibilities in that respect. I mean, when I think a lot of girls were exploring their sexuality through slash shipping, it was never a part of my youth. I was more curious about wlw ships, for........... multiple reasons, but in retrospect I think a lot of it was because of my exposure to Haruka and Michiru, though idk that we can really, in a 2021 lens, call Haruka a straightforward cis woman. Her genderfluidity and tendency to present as masculine at times was really interesting to me, and I've honestly come to appreciate that aspect of her story more as an adult. I have a young person in my life who is quite close to me and NB, and we've really been able to bond through Sailor Moon in part because of Haruka? I can't speak for them of course, but it's meant a lot to me.

And Haruka and Michiru were so married. I love how Haruka is like, super hot and desired by everyone and extremely flirty, and could have whoever she wanted--like, she's really the character with the most swagger in the whole series. But she goes home to Michiru. Her heart is with Michiru. I'm a sucker for that. It's the utter devotion that they have for each other, even when there's a bit of like... idk, openness to the relationship, in terms of Haruka flirting with/kissing Usagi. I have a weird thing for ships where it's like, they might occasionally see other people, but they know who's keeping the home fires burning.

I hope all of this makes sense--I truly need to re-read the mangas, but I kind of treat my Eternals with kid gloves lol. I am very much a loser about it. THEY ARE FOR DISPLAY PURPOSES!!!

#but also a sailor moon tattoo is most def in my future #i live near a fairly famous anime tattoo artist so it's like #i refuse to get it done by anyone buuuut her #however she is booked and busy and also $$$ understandably

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the-scottish-costume-guy · 4 years

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JK Rowling, transphobia and a hopefully helpful post.

A few days ago I posted on my Facebook (yes I have one sue me) debunking some of the things Rowling has been saying on twitter. Since she made a statement I felt the need to make another one... but this time Im sharing it here. Please note this is long, it is fairly opinionated in places but her statements have felt so insidious I want to share something in depth. If you are cis I implore you to read, but I understand this is long and a lot of people wont want to. No judgement.

Jk Rowling’s latest statement is a mess of valid concerns and fear mongering. At this point there can be no claim she doesn’t know what shes talking about - she herself has said shes been researching this for years. She throws in token acknowledgements to “real” trans people while framing the rest of her statements as concern for confused teens.So first things first - and something that might not be popular with some of my trans friends. I agree that teenagers should not be able to medically transition. It is a choice that should be made when the brain is fully mature. Hormone blockers are something I trust - and that are reversible. I have seen enough detransitioned people hurting to feel like we do need to be careful - especially with children who are trying to find themselves. I dont know about other people but during my teens I was coming to the crushing realisation that I wasn’t special. I was learning that no matter how well I painted someone else did it better, no matter how badly I hurt someone had it worse - I was learning about the wonderful mediocrity of life, and having anything that made me stand out gave a brief reprieve from learning to be okay with all these things. For me to be fair it was dying my hair outrageous colours and dressing in black leather during 30 degree summer heat - but its still something we cant forget. I KNOW a lot of kids claiming to be trans are - and I dont want to keep that from them, however I dont want to cause harm to the kids that are wrong. Continuing on, I’d like to address her comments about TERFS. Terfs are Self Described Trans-exclusionary-radical-feminists and the term does get thrown around a little too liberally at times. Terf is not and never will be a slur. No more than “White” is. It is about a group of people who have taken it open themselves to segregate another group - and calling that what it is, is not a crime. The reason Terf and transphobe have become synonomic is because the ‘radical feminists’ that subscribe to this have lost focus on nearly all other issues of feminism and sit squarely on “dropping the T” from the lgbt community and “keeping men out of womens bathrooms.” Terfs are overwhelmingly women - this is sadly simply a fact. Terfs are reviled because of how much it feels like a betrayal to the community. A group that fights for rights - except ours. A group that wants equality - except for us. Its different to the conservatives who hate us all equally - with Terfs we are singled out. Terfs are not, as Rowling claims, inclusionary to Trans-men. I’ve been met with a combination of pity, loathing, mockery and revulsion by people within this group. I’ve been told that I shouldn’t let homophobia push me into transitioning - only for all correspondence to abruptly drop when I mention Im marrying another man. I’ve been told my old body was beautiful - only for stunned silence when I agree. I was beautiful - I was curvy, I was a dancer and had a body to match - but I wasn’t Me. When their usual arguments against me fail - I’m met with hate. Im called anti-woman, traitor, homophobic. I even have some such comments saved on my blog. I have yet to meet a Terf who was pro-trans-man. Rowling claims that had she had the ability, as a confused teen, she may have sought to transition. I hate to tell her but she did have the ability and trans people didn’t pop into existence in the twenty-first century. I’m actually looking to do my dissertation topic in my final year on lgbt presentation throughout history - and in my overeager way I’ve already started researching. James Barry has been becoming a common name for years - a transgender surgeon who died in 1865. If Barry was able to at least socially transition from 1790 to 1860, I am fairly sure Rowling could have in 1980 - over a century later. Rowling also claims that groups of friends in schools all suddenly identify as trans at the same time. Speaking from my school experience - the queer kids group together. We seek out others like us, and we take strength from each others bravery to come out - often around the same time. We almost get a rush of resolve when one of our group musters the courage and strength, and some of us use that rush to bite the bullet ourselves. Its one of the beautiful ways the lgbt community is here for one another - and the influx of people identifying as trans is partially a factor of more people knowing the name of their feelings. Survivor bias will ignore the trans people through history without the knowledge or means to transition - and will claim they were never trans at all. Her initial statements about charities worry me in particular. As I said last time - we know sex is real, we just dont really like to be defined by it. She is worried that we’re going to “rebrand medicine” and ignores that medications for years have had warnings in their leaflets about “If you are or become pregnant” regardless of if the person receiving it has a dick or a vagina. We dont advocate for ignoring the differences in how people respond to heart attacks - and I for one would like research to be done on how hormones effect that. I dont actually know if I would respond more like a cis gender woman or a cis gender man if I were to have a heart attack or a stroke. But where possible we do want to change the language around some of these things. I have had a double mastectomy, but some Cis-men have these as well. This is not a gendered term. Why should a period be called anything else? Why call it a “womens problem.” I and Im sure many other trans people, support the research into how different medical and mental issues affect different sexes. I just think that should be extended further - and we know it should, as some medical issues affect people of different ethnicities in different ways and we don’t know how. I am truly sorry that Rowling has experienced abuse and assault of any nature. I am truly sorry that she has felt unsafe. But her feelings do not invalidate others experiences. Of the trans people I know, a saddening number have been assaulted, have been abused and in particular have experienced these things domestically. There is much work to be done on this in the UK. There are nearly no mens shelters for sufferers of violence to my knowledge. I, a trans man who have experienced some of these things in my teen years, would Not want to be around cisgender women even if I could be. A cis woman was responsible for much of the pain I personally suffered - and in fact one of the acts of violence she carried out against me was directly after I came out as trans to her. Trans women, even if they could go to male shelters, should not have to be surrounded by a group that put them in danger - in a place that is detrimental to them physically and mentally and is frankly degrading. The belief that allowing trans women into shelters for those escaping abuse is dangerous is sad. To be so afraid is deserving of pity. To let fear blind you to the suffering of others - to think its better that a trans woman face homelessness or a return to an abusive household because you personally would sleep better at night is the kind of passive evil we should be aware of in this day and age. It comes from choosing to see the word “trans” before “person.” Its from choosing to see a persons genitals before their humanity. Trans people are not dangerous - and cause no greater risk than any other demographic. Her claims that she can empathise with this fear are empty. A gender recognition certificate is not a ticket into womens bathrooms. Funnily enough you dont actually require a piece of paper to go almost anywhere. I do not have a gender recognition certificate and use male bathrooms, can enter male spaces as I please. All a gender recognition certificate does is change the letter on your birth certificate. It doesn’t even affect other forms of identification - my passport, my student id, my drivers license all already say male. I am not sure why so many people have chosen this as their hill to die on because its the least relevant thing to them on the planet. How often have any of you seen another persons birth certificate? Rowling says she and other ‘gender critical’ (a terf dogwhistle) people are concerned for trans youth. Well… she can take her condescending concern and direct it to matters that are relevant to her. Trans people want to be left alone. Its a simple request, and yet people endlessly seem to trip over the dirt level bar.

#transgender #jk rowling #terf #transphobia #lgbt #uk politics #I'm prob gonna get shit for this arent I

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curvedroygbiv · 4 years

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JK Rowling is dominating my dash right now. And not that any one cares about my 2 cents, but -

JK Rowling is an excellent case study of authorial intent, changing social tides, and the debate between bad representation vs good representation.

But I think there’s one other thing that get’s lost in there, I dunno if there’s a real term for it, but it’s how people grow and evolve over time, and how the internet makes that both harder and easier.

I didn’t grow up in an ultra conservative or overly bigoted environment, but it’s easy to absorb a lot of those values and ideas just from the background radiation that is mainstream media. I wouldn’t be who I am today with out the internet, and all the people on it, who laid down the foundation of education, activism, and really just sharing stories of their own lives as real people who are impacted by oppression and injustice so I can be exposed to experiences outside my own bubble. I know “keyboard activist” is thrown around like it’s an insult these days, but I’ll never not be aware that online discourse and tumblr specifically has shaped my political and world views more than anything else.

It didn’t happen overnight. It wasn’t pretty. Shedding layer after layer of what I know now are mainstream anti-feminism and bigotry was a long and awkward process. I can put my foot in my mouth easily and often talking about everyday topics; trying to wade through forums and blogs and comments was always going to have me opening my big mouth to say something I’m not proud of. But you know what? I learned. I grew. And most of those conversations exist now only in my memories, an anonymous nobody drowned in obscurity, lost to time, sometimes bombed from orbit as a site shuts down or is wiped out. No big loss, to be honest.

But what if they weren’t? What if I was a celebrity? What if everything I wrote or typed was immortalized and canonized and put on display for the world to see? What if my words, good or bad, existed forever and ever, for people to dig up and use as “proof” that this is what I said and believed then, so It must be what I believe now?

In short, What if i was JK Rowling?

Joanne Katherine Rowling has never been a perfect person or a perfect author. Her books were always flawed. She never did enough, never did it right, never created anything that wasn’t problematic somehow. Her works are a reflection of who she was and what she believed in the moment. But am I supposed to think that they are a reflection of who she is today? 13 years ago she wrote a redemption arc for an incel, retconned a straight character gay after the fact, flubbed an aids metaphor, flubbed a slavery metaphor, and tied off a series about anti-fascism with “and then they did nothing about any of the underlying causes and had babies ever after the end”. 13 years ago I was a dumbass voicing my dumbass opinions on representation, affirmative action, religion, and really really wanted to make sure that I “wasn’t like other girls”. Oh, god, the fanfiction, the homophobia in my fan fiction, cackling as I pwned the yaoi fangirls for having such dumb opinions about /my/ favorite characters.

Am I a bad person? Are those long-forgotten footprints an indelible mark on my character?

Intent isn’t magic. “But I’m different now” is the empty rancid promise of every fan-favorite character that gets an undeserved redemption arc. “oh, it was different time, that’s just how things were” is wrong for straight white men and it’s wrong for everyone else. But if change is worth doing then it has to have some value somewhere. If someone interacted with me or my online presence they would have a very different picture of what I believe and who I am, compared to what they would have gotten 13 years ago. It would be almost impossible to dig up my old comments and indiscretions and link them back to me. I would almost appear to have been born full formed at the exact level of “woke” that I am today. Ironically as a internationally renowned celebrity and millionaire this is one luxury JK Rowling can never have.

I’m not going to pretend that contributing to the ugliness in the word is something the perpetrators can put behind them when they fell like they, personally, have moved beyond that. And just because people change doesn’t mean they always change for the better. But 13 years is a long time to be absorbing and studying and evolving, and the internet makes it easier every day to interact with tens of thousands of people who’s lives and testimonies you never would have encountered if you were just meeting them in person one by one. A lot has happened in 13 years too. We take for granted that “woke” media has a chance to get published, for one thing. We seem to have forgotten that once upon a time her books were already so controversial as to be banned over and over.

So yeah. She wrote a lot of fat characters as being evil and slovenly, compared to thin characters being, if not good, at least intelligent and worthwhile. She had every last Slytherin, right down to the first years, slink off instead of fighting in the final fight. She had Voldemort be “born evil” because of something his parents were on when he was conceived. She had Ron/Hermione as endgame and then said that she regretted it and they would probably never work out long term. She named a child Albus Severus and expected people to be good with that. Why the fuck did she think we needed to know about wizard toilets? She is, and continues to be, an imperfect person and problematic writer. But to pretend that she, in 2020, can’t possibly be sympathetic to LGB issues, well-informed on trans activism, and more committed than ever to feminism and the liberation of women, just because 13 years ago she didn’t have the foresight to put more empty performative sjw talking points into an already bloated manuscript?

I’m standing /right here/.

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philosophycorner · 3 years

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Musings on Attitudes and Western Philosophical Culture

It doesn’t take a lot to notice that people in the West are obsessed with binaries: in ethics an action is either right or wrong, with no gray areas; in politics there’s only left and right or conservative and liberal, with no one truly occupying the liminal and no one venturing outside the boundaries of right- or left-wing ideology. This is why it is crucial to eventually leave the Western hemisphere and study Eastern philosophy. The Taoists following Lao (hereafter called Laoists) identified a position that is neither objectivist nor subjectivist.

Interestingly, psychologists and moral pluralists have identified this approach without making it explicit. When making moral considerations, I am consistently and now unconsciously Kantian, but I recognize in certain situations, a Kantian analysis doesn’t get the job done. That does not make me an objectivist nor a subjectivist; it makes me what Laoist Shih were, an attitudist. Do I consider that a person is an end in themselves if I realize that this person is a Narcissist or anyone on the Dark Tetrad? For sake of myself, I simply cannot proceed with a Kantian analysis. I now have to prefer, for this specific situation, an egoist approach. The best course of action caters to my self-interest. Anyone who cares about their mental well-being knows that they have to cut this toxic person out of their lives, completely and utterly. Once you realize that someone has been treating you as a means, there is no sense in which you can continue to treat them as an end. The basis of most Tetrad relationships is transactional, i.e., what can I get out of you? This is emotionally and potentially, financially draining and for your own sake, you have to cut this person out of your life.

What if instead you’re a CEO with a department full of employees near retirement who are less productive than a department full of upstart, younger employees? On a business analysis, firing the former group who presumably earn higher salaries or wages makes the most sense. Despite being a Kantian, I can see here that a utilitarian approach makes sense. Which group is harmed less? The former group is near retirement and is less capable of pivoting if I were to lay them off while the latter group is more capable of pivoting, of picking up the pieces, and finding a way to continue their careers. So in the interest of causing less harm, my attitude in this case assumes the character of a utilitarian.

This is the essential hallmark of moral pluralism. It isn’t relativist nor does it have any pretense of objectivism. It is like the Laoist sayings in the Tao Te Ching. It is the undertaking of an attitude that either assails conventional wisdom or opens up the mind to other possibilities. It is the old “slow and steady wins the race.” This isn’t to contradict the prevailing objective fact that the faster participant usually wins, but that it is entirely possible to win a race strategically and methodically. It is to take a certain attitude toward a tradition or norm.

Eastern philosophy has the potential to disabuse the West of its infatuation with binaries. I can identify as a moral objectivist and in a given situation make the most nihilist of statements: at bottom, there’s no such thing as good and evil. For human purposes, it is perhaps necessary to proceed as though a moral act is a universal law; this is the perspective of any Kantian. However, absent human minds or minds roughly equal to our own, there is no sense in which we can call a supernova evil because it wipes out a solar system and causes the extinction of fish on a planet 65 lightyears away (which is actually a strong theory scientists have with regards to an extinction of massive fish during the Devonian period, about 360 million years ago). We can’t call a blackhole evil for spaghettifying a cornucopia of celestial objects. Likewise, we can’t call a star good for eventually providing warmth to a solar system, even on the assumption that the system is life-bearing. For non-sentient purposes, qualifications of good and evil are simply vacuous. It is no doubt a nihilistic attitude, but it says nothing about my approach to sentient ethics.

Attitudism is inherent in moral pluralism and elsewhere, but it should be allowed into the philosophy of the West. Binaries, either-or, all-or-nothing, my way or the highway, present no solutions whatsoever. Binaries create more problems than they solve. In politics, I assume right-wing attitudes all the time. I have never been a proponent of the vacuous “Defund the police,” for it is a simple fact that Police Reform will require more government funding and that even defunding the police to divert funds to other causes like education or mental illness awareness guarantees complacency with the same, corrupt, failing system of policing currently in place across many inner cities. I think the call to defund the police has harmed left-wing candidacies, which is the same thing right-wing politicians say. Does that make me right-wing? Absolutely not. Yet it is the case that I have adopted their attitude for this specific situation.

Upon closer analysis, my readers will realize that they do this sort of thing often. Lack of civility, charity, and a penchant for being disingenuous describes today’s dialogue, especially in the United States. Leave it to an opponent to accuse you of a position you don’t espouse. Christians often assume that every atheist in the world is a moral relativist, leaving no room for the possibility that an atheist can be an objectivist. This happens because of attitudism, namely an attitude an atheist shares about a specific situation or even a general state of affairs. Richard Dawkins, famous for pointing out the universe’s blind indifference, was speaking about the general state of the universe and this is now taken to mean that Dawkins is a moral nihilist. I share his attitude with regards to the universe, but I don’t share that attitude as it concerns human relationships and society, nor do I share that attitude in matters concerning the Earth like Climate Change, the humane treatment of household pets, hunting and poaching, discussions on the personhood of non-human animals like primates and dolphins, and so on.

For Western philosophy to progress beyond where it is, it needn’t fear relativism. It should also allow for attitude-based statements speaking to pertinent scenarios. It should renounce binary thinking altogether and accept gray areas, incorporating the insights of thinking in a more diverse manner. Western philosophers also have to stop categorizing thinkers into traditions not robust enough to honor the thought of given philosophers. For purposes of ethics, situational and contextual approaches have to be included as well.

Readers, do you think Western philosophy’s obsession with binaries is not as detrimental as I think? Is it possible that it is beneficial?

#philosophy #ethics #political philosophy #politics #eastern philosophy #taoism #attitudism #attitudes #logic

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adapembroke · 4 years

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What I Learned From a Month of Praying to Mars

The planet Mars is not my friend.* I have been studying astrology long enough to know theoretically why Mars is important, and we have a decent working relationship when I'm in a crisis that needs an aggressive approach, but most of the time Mars shows up in my life as, frankly, stupid shit: Conflicts in my communities that are really unnecessary, injuries at spectacularly bad times, and the need to protect my boundaries from people who are more thoughtless than evil—which means they feel justifiably pissed off when I tell them to knock it off. To top it off, I have a history of being god-bothered by war gods, which is completely thematically inappropriate. I’m a Druid! Druids love peace. The ancient Druids separated armies on the edge of war, don’tcha know?

Recently, I had the opportunity to take Austin Coppock's class on planetary remediation. Planetary remediation is like physical therapy for difficult planets. The idea is that by bringing trouble planets' influence into your life in an intentional way, you can learn how to work with that energy more positively (or you can bribe the planet into being more friendly, depending on what you believe about astrology and fate).

I didn't have Mars in mind when I decided to take this class. (I was more interested in learning how to work with my Venus in Aries.) But I've been working with Mars the most since I finished the class. Partly, that's because Austin suggested a ritual that sounded really easy for me to implement: For a month, on the planetary day of Mars (Tuesday) at the planetary hour of Mars (roughly 2:30 my time these days), pray the Orphic Hymn to Mars.

"All I had to do was read a paragraph aloud once a week four times, and that would improve my relationship with Mars?" I thought. Sold!

I wasn't familiar with the Orphic Hymns before I took Austin's class, but I really liked the hymn he shared with us. It was basically a very formal request that Mars busy himself with bringing love, parties, and abundance into my life, instead of causing problems.

I decided that I would do a short ritual that included the Orphic Hymn to Mars on Tuesday at 2:30pm four Tuesdays in a row in April and May.

For the first two weeks, this practice was easy. And nothing happened. I considered giving it up, but I'd made a commitment, so I decided to stick it out.

Then, I noticed that I was starting to become reluctant to do rituals outdoors. It's springtime in Oregon, the time of year when most people like to spend every possible moment outdoors stocking up on vitamin D. This, combined with quarantine, meant that my neighbors, who are usually at work or school during the day, were suddenly much more likely to be outside during the times when I would normally do rituals.

My neighbors are mostly nice people, but they believe that fences don't really have anything to do with privacy and what goes on in other people's yards is everyone’s business. I also live far enough away from the urban heart of Portland that my neighbors are red truck driving, Conservative talk-radio listening, just-folks Christians. I already had a bad reputation for being a liberal, Prius-driving, transplant who drove into town with parking stickers from Berkeley, California, and stays home on Sunday morning, puts sigils on the front door, and has men in the house when my husband(?) isn’t home. It wasn't hard to imagine how they would respond if they were outside when I started spinning in circles in the back yard, making occult gestures, and talking to the spirits of the air.

I started to find reasons to put all of my rituals off. For a week, Covid was a valid excuse for my cowardice. I wasn't getting new material from OBOD, anyway, so why bother trying to keep up with my studies? I'll run out of work soon, I said, and just be stuck twiddling my thumbs. Anyway, there was a crisis on. I was just being kind to myself, wasn't I?

Then Tuesday rolled around. I stuck my head outside, and I heard one of my neighbors outside talking loudly on the phone on the other side of the fence a few yards from my ritual space. I had a choice: I could I keep my promise and do this ritual for an audience, or I could break a promise I'd made to Mars.

I've read The Odyssey, so I know what happens to people who break their promises to the gods. I don’t know what I believe about the relationship between the gods and the planets named for them, but I wasn’t going to risk it. I marched outside and very quietly and timidly cast a circle and called peace to the four directions. I took out my phone, opened the app with the hymn in it, and listened. My neighbor wasn't talking anymore.

I looked at the hymn: "...bloody wars fierce and untamed...mortal destroying King, defiled with gore...thee human blood, swords, and spears delight..."

Why had I decided to do this?

I braved a glance at the fence. My neighbor was right there. She would hear me no matter what I did. I decided that my best option was to pretend that I knew exactly what I was doing and had full confidence in myself.

I called on all my old, rusty theater skills, took a deep diaphragmatic breath and bellowed the hymn.

"MAGNANIMOUS, UNCONQUERED, BOISTEROUS MARS!"

A moment later, I heard my neighbor's door slam. Not a sound was heard from that neighbor's yard for the rest of the afternoon.

I finished the hymn and unwound the circle.

As I stood there, trying to will my legs to stop shaking, I thought of what Austin said about what remediation does. The first step to solving problems with a planet is awareness, he said. When you start working with a planet, the issues that you have with a planet will bubble to the surface so that you can see and address them consciously.

Remembering this, I changed my mind about ending the ritual where I had planned and cast the circle again. I called to the spirits I work with and talked to them aloud, extemporaneously about why I was doing these rituals and what I hoped to get out of them.

When I started talking, I thought my issues with Mars were simple. To me, Mars was a nuisance that only showed up in my life to bring discomfort and pain. While I described my issues with Mars, I thought about the ways I struggle to enforce boundaries, my fear of taking up space, my reluctance to compete with others for space even when they're pushing into space that is rightfully mine, space that I need to be safe or autonomous.

I thought of nightmares I've been having since the pandemic started in which I am stuck in a room full of people who keep hugging me and refuse to wear masks. The world is having a big collective conversation about personal space right now. How much do we need? How much space between people is enough? What do you do when others don't practice social distancing around you the way you think they should? What do you do when the people around you demand more space than you think they need? What do you do when there simply isn't enough space for everyone? What do you do when your very existence makes people uncomfortable...or angry?

I realized that my issues with Mars are exactly aligned with this world-wide conflict over personal space, and I'm learning that playing it safe and avoiding situations where your needs are going to make people uncomfortable isn’t enough. Sometimes you have to fight for your right to exist.

I wouldn't say that Mars and I are reconciled, but I don't see the red planet as a cruel, sword-wielding, maniac anymore. I realize now that I have lessons to learn from the god of war. I have work to do when it comes to enforcing boundaries and dealing with conflict. Insisting on my right to practice my religion in peace in my own backyard was a first step, but I am almost certain that this frank exchange of views with Mars isn't over yet.

*There are several astrological reasons for my difficult relationship with Mars. I have a day chart, which means that Mars is the malefic planet that I have the most difficult relationship with. Mars rules my south node, which means Mars is connected with past life trauma. And Mars is conjunct Chiron, Lucifer (and Ceres) in my 11th house and trine my Moon in Aquarius, which means the planet of the god of war is connected with present-life trauma and discomfort, too, while also getting tangled up with my ability to find peace and take care of myself. Grr.

#witchblr #witchcraft #astrology #pagan #druidry #mars

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lovelyirony · 4 years

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dsjhfjkdj winteriron with that fight prompt would be god tier please give us that gift

Here’s something that most know about Tony Stark: he doesn’t keep his mouth shut, and he likes to know everything. It took many deals to make sure he didn’t tell the US people exactly what was in Area 51.

(He made the sure the deal expires two years from now, there’s no way in fuck he’s not telling people about the whole North Dakota thing.)

Tony has grown up with power. He knows how to manipulate it, how others manipulate it, and he’s not afraid of it. That’s a dangerous thing, to not be afraid of power. But when you run an influential company that can make or break people at an alarming rate, but not that alarming because he doesn’t use it for evil, then it’s...well.

You’re not scared of threats. And if the people threatening you are smart, they’ll realize why.

This is why when Alexander Pierce walks into his office and charmingly tells him all about his plan to threaten Tony Stark with death and blackmail of the sexual kind involving two men, Tony snorts.

“Pierce, fire whoever the fuck got you that little blackmail. Half of America has seen my asshole before, it’s not anything new. It’ll just be more material that people see, and to be quite frank, I don’t think my sleeping with men will hurt literally anything besides some conservatives with children or community or whatever, but I couldn’t give less of a shit. Tell me, does my ass look good in that video? I wasn’t sure that time around...”

Pierce turns red with rage. Tony’s used to it.

“As for death,” he steamrolls on. “Go for it. I assume since I stopped creating weapons you have Hammer weapons now or some incredibly old Stark weaponry, which is hard to find given the fact that there’s an order to destroy all of it or donate it to a museum. And if it’s neither and you’re planning on a knife or anything, go right ahead. Try and kill me. I guarantee you won’t.”

“You have no idea who you’re going up against,” Pierce warns, voice turning low and gravelly.

Tony laughs. “I’m going up against an old leader of a mob named Hydra who had to hide because of my Aunt Peggy being the most terrifying leader around. You couldn’t make a move. And now you’re recruiting people, but you think you’re being so slick about it. I can and will make sure that you are burned along with the rest of your little game. That sound nice?”

“And how will you do that?” Pierce asks. “You think you can find all of us?”

“Yes,” Tony says easily. (He doesn’t know this, but like. It’s Hydra. How hard can it be?) “Because if you’re so reliant on your own power status, then how easily will it be for your organization to crumble?”

Pierce is sent away, and Tony tweets out that he got threatened. Casual Wednesday stuff. Then he says he’s flying away for safety.

This is a flat-out lie. Pepper knows it. Rhodey knows it. Maybe someone reading the tweet in the middle of Wisconsin knows it, hell if Tony can guess.

But the point is, no one else will think it’s a lie, especially when he sends a plane over somewhere tropical.

He’s staying put in New York. The best lie is one that is grand, multiple small holes in this lie, and one that doesn’t involve not going out in public. Everyone else will be looking for Pierce. Not Tony Stark.

Tony is looking for someone else--or rather, a group.

They call themselves the Avengers. A group of people that rival Pierce in power, although their group is smaller and more concentrated at getting people out of positions of power.

It’s understandable.

Tony walks right into their office building.

There’s a guy who he thinks is Clint? He spills his ramen.

“Oh fuck, my ramen,” he whines. “What the fuck are you doing here, Stark?”

“I have a favor to ask,” Tony says with a shrug. “Who do I talk to about favors? And your security? It lacks, to be completely honest. I expected more from you all.”

“Security is me,” comes a voice from behind. Tony side-steps a charge from a woman who was lunging for him.

“Ms. Romanov, I expected more from someone who worked for my company for six months.”

“You remember?” Natasha asks, surprised.

“Natasha I do love my scotch, but not enough to black out anymore,” Tony says. “Honestly, who do you take me for? A floozy?”

She smiles.

“Good to have you here, Stark. Wish the circumstances could be better. Let me take you to Barnes.”

Well. Tony Stark was not expecting Barnes to look like that. He wasn’t expecting any of them, to be completely honest.

“Is the expectation to be attractive and a model?” Tony asks. “Is this your interview process for new candidates? Wow. Okay.”

James Barnes stares at him.

“Why are you here?”

“Alexander Pierce,” Tony says. “He tried to threaten me in my own offices, and I’d like to destroy him. A bit of an impulsive project, but I bet he’s going to infest more things if we’re not careful. I want your help.”

“Consider it done,” Barnes says. No thought needed. Natasha looks at him. “What did you have in mind?”

“I am technologically gifted,” Tony says. “I already have gotten into some files that definitely are not for the public and I’ve found a lot of people that are Hydra. We need to round them up, encircle Pierce, and get him to break. Preferably on national television, but that’s just my own flair for the dramatic coming up.”

James nods. He reaches out his hand. The metal one.

It’s meant to intimidate people, tell them that that’s their fate if they fuck up the deal.

Tony stares at it almost with reverence, a bit of confusion, and then understanding.

“Your fingers need to be re-calibrated soon. And I’m going to replace something in your arm.”

“What?”

Tony laughs.

“Barnes, you’re wearing an arm I created. I know it as well as you do, maybe better. I want you to come down to my shop some time this week and have it worked on, if you’re comfortable with that.”

And so the deal starts.

“Do we think this is a good idea?” Steve asks cautiously. “Is this seriously just something he decides on a whim?”

“Steve, I’m going to pretend like you questioning the most famous billionaire of all time but not for shitty reasons is asking us for help,” Bruce says. “I am planning on taking full advantage of this and breaking into his labs for science reasons since I’m not trusted with a Bunsen burner here.”

“You used it to make soup and it ended horribly,” Clint reminds him. “And I know, because I supported you.”

“You’re the only one on this team who does,” Bruce says.

Bucky does bring Bruce along. He’s figuring that part of the deal can be that Bruce can actually use a real lab.

Tony’s focus zeroes in on Bruce, actually.

“So, this is where Dr. Banner’s been hiding,” Tony says. “I’ve been looking around for you for quite some time, Bruce.”

Bruce blushes.

“Well, thank you Dr. Stark.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow.

“Bruce here is a legend in the scientific community for two reasons,” Tony says. “He was the first to call Richard Reed a little bitch, and his scientific papers are the stuff of legend. I presume you want a lab?”

“If it’s not too much.”

“Nope, not at all. After everything is done, you’ll have a lab here.” Bruce gapes, and Bucky clears his throat.

Tony’s gaze returns to Bucky.

“So, what can I help you out with?”

“Strategy. And I’m wondering what kind of help you have.”

Tony nods, flipping a picture of a man on his desk.

“Thor. And his brother, but his brother is kind of...temperamental. I think he’ll most likely help because I told him that he could use crazy straws and shaving cream for unknown purposes.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow.

“Trust me, it’ll be worth it. But Thor is good at being discreet, also using an incredible amount of force.”

“His name is Thor,” Bucky states. “For real?”

“As far as I’ve found,” Tony mentions. “I’ve connected him to Rogers and Romanov, they’re already planning together tonight.”

“Then why have us here?” Bucky asks.

“Because I’m getting Bruce’s lab set up with input, and I’m fixing your arm,” Tony says. “So both of you, follow me to my home.”

Bruce is giddy. Beyond giddy. It’s the first time Bucky’s seen a smile on his face for longer than a minute.

(Okay well, a second time. The first time was when Steve tripped over three socks.)

Tony leads Bucky to his “garage” which is full of cars worth more than Bucky’s entire life, and they sit at two chairs as Tony gets out his tools.

“When’s the last time you had a maintenance check?”

“Uh...when I got the arm?” Bucky asks. “Wasn’t exactly aware of maintenance checks.”

“I bet you had Ted as your person,” Tony grumbles. “Hated that dude. Well you can always come and get it tuned up, no charge. They didn’t tell you that. I’ll have to remind them.”

Bucky’s surprised at Tony’s easy confidence, the way his shop is laid out.

He smiles at the robots that curiously come up to investigate.

“Dad has a couple of new friends,” Tony explains. “U and Dum-E, please don’t poke Bucky in the side, he might--”

Bucky laughs, flinching away as the screwdriver drops from Tony’s hand.

“Do that,” Tony says, bending down to pick up the screwdriver. He gets a random bolt, one of the larger ones.

“Go see if you can pick this up with your claws,” Tony says, throwing it in the opposite direction. The bots squeal after it. Tony sends a look to Bucky.

“Kids. They’re a mess.”

“You named them...that?” Bucky says.

“Yup,” Tony says. “The one that’s anxiously looking behind the couch is U, like the letter. He really liked pointing when he was first born and the first word he learned was ‘you.’ He’s a cutie. The charmer there who’s spinning and trying to show off his new tape that Pepper decorated him with is Dum-E. He’s a drama queen. I have no idea where he gets it from, honestly.”

Bucky laughs.

From then, Bucky and Tony work in close quarters together. It’s nice, honestly. They’ve been cracking down on Hydra, driving them into a smaller and smaller circle.

“You think after all this is over, you want to get dinner some time?” Tony asks.

Bucky smiles. “I’d love that. Where do you want to go?”

“Your choice,” Tony says. “As a thank you for helping.”

“Anything for you, doll.”

And then Tony gets kidnapped. By all accounts he’s not sure why he wasn’t expecting it. Maybe because it was a Sunday night, and you shouldn’t kidnap people on Sunday nights. It’s rude is what it is.

They also punch his mouth, which ugh. That just ruined his good days of not having any chapped lips. He was working hard on that particular aspect.

Bucky goes into overdrive. He didn’t think this would happen because Tony is a very central figure to the city, a figure to the US. To be this ballsy? It’s a death sentence.

He knows death sentences quite well. Been on a few himself.

Hydra should be quaking, because he’s getting his knives strapped.

Hydra is not quaking. Or in fear. It’s because they have quite the large ego, which no organization should have. But powerful men who have another powerful man in their grasp tend to think the world is bowing to them, when in fact the world does not give a shit but their enemies do.

This is why Bucky breaks into the building in two minutes (personal best), throat-punches six people, and finds Tony singing “Turn Back Time” as loudly as possible.

“Oh! You’re here!” Tony says. “I was beginning to think I’d have to drive the guards to insanity.”

“Who did this to you,” Bucky asks, tilting Tony’s chin up in his grasp. He can see dried blood on the corners. He hates that Tony had to go through with that.

“Bucky, it was Hydra, who else?” Tony says. “Pierce if we’re being specific. But you might want to stop doing that or I’m gonna get hot and bothered under the collar, which isn’t my style. You wanna break out of here or stay with me? I’m not fond of the last option.”

“Then why give it as an option?”

“I don’t know!” Tony yelps, grabbing one of Bucky’s knives and throwing it at a man’s leg. “But let’s get out of here. Or at least, to their file room. They keep files. What losers.”

Bucky laughs.

“Got it doll. Let’s go.”

For the record, it’s a huge success. Pierce gets taken away in handcuffs for roughly about life in prison, unless their prison system decides he’s been good after about ten years, and then he might get released. Who knows. Point is, Bucky and Tony will both be alive in ten years, prepared to make sure he goes to jail again or they’ve reformed the jail system by then. It’s all up in the air, really.

But they’re doing it together. Which is all the more important.

#lovelyirony writes #winteriron #bucky barnes #tony stark #i meant to write more thorbruce up in this bitch but didn't smh #bruce banner #thor #mob au

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #343

“i slither like a viper and get you by the neck / i know a thousand ways to help you forget about her”

What's your favorite kind of bear? I don't really know. I just like bears. Have you ever sent a FWD because you were afraid? Ha, yup, as a little kid. Would you ever date more than one person at a time? Nooooo sir. Have you ever rebounded... or been someone's rebound? No. What’s the biggest argument you’ve ever had with a family member? Did things ever go back to how they were beforehand? My grandmother cursed me the fuuuuck out one night as a kid because I was in a mood and didn't tell my mother goodnight. I still remember being called an ungrateful bitch with her like an inch from my face, and admittedly, I was being rude because I wanted to go home, but it kinda scarred me for life. For the remainder of her life, I was always sort of on edge around her and was convinced she didn't like me. Have you ever experienced some kind of natural disaster? I've been through lots of hurricanes. None that massively affected my life, though. If you have pets, do you feed them human food or do they just get regular pet food? If they do get human food, what’s their favorite thing to have? Venus is a snake, so she obviously doesn't get food meant for humans. Roman is very well-trained to not beg or make a move for people's food; he tried once as a kitten, and giving him a pop taught him right away. Have you ever been in a physical fight? Who won? No. What’s the mode of transport that you take or use the most? The car. Mom's, specifically. Have you ever had a zoo keeper experience or anything where you’ve been able to go behind the scenes and look after/feed the animals? No, but I wish. :( Would you ever want the responsibility of being a politician or a similar position of power? NOOOOOOO. What’s something your parents do that really annoys you? Mom is *always* right, pretty much indisputably. And she WILL have the last word. Dad, meanwhile, can be pretty rude to people. I don't think he realizes it half the time, but still. It's not an excuse. What is your main source of anxiety? Social interactions. What’s your favorite 90s cartoon? Pokemon. Describe the moment you realized you were falling in love with someone. I'd rather not. What’s your favorite sparkling water brand/flavor? I've never tried sparkling water. What’s your favorite makeup brand/brands? I don't have a favorite, considering I don't wear it nearly enough and have never even bought my own. I just use whatever Mom buys. What are some female names you would name a baby? Alessandra is my favorite for sure. I also love Anneliese, Justine, Evelyn, Chloe, Evangeline, Quinn... There's a lot. What about male? Severin is my favorite, and I also like Damien, Vincent, Victor, and Luther. Do you have any subscription boxes? No. What fictional creature would you like as a pet? I want a dragon, goddammit. Idc if it can breathe fire ok I want a dragon. Ewoks are also the one and only thing I enjoy from Star Wars. What kind of dwelling do you live in? Just a one-story house. Is there anyone you work with that you don't get along with? Why? N/A Do you have an opinion on adopting/purchasing a pet? PLEASE adopt, especially with cats and dogs, given the number of strays. Purebreds tend to have so many underlying issues, and besides, it's just a LOT of money for an animal that probably wouldn't outlive a mutt. Don't feed the machine if you can. What's your favorite chain restaurant? The Cheesecake Factory or Olive Garden. Why were you last pulled over? I’ve never been pulled over before. What was the last thing you've done on the water? Just kinda swam around a bit in the ocean. It was so warm, totally like a bath. I do NOT miss that sun poisoning, though. Are you cool with swimming in a lake? I think I'd do it if someone invited me to, and the lake didn't look filthy, of course. Do you have a drone? No. What's your favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant? We have this tiny, local Mexican place that's really good. I don't know the name of it, and I wouldn't share it for obvious reasons. What do you order from there? Chips and salsa of course, along with a shrimp and cheese quesadilla, and finally their cheesy rice. What's your favorite ice-cream flavor? Depending on my mood, it bounces between vanilla with chocolate syrup or just plain chocolate. Do you have any t-shirts from any local businesses? No. Do you listen to any talk shows or podcasts? I used to listen to Mark, Bob, and Wade's podcast, but I'm like... ten months behind, haha. What's something someone calls you that you find endearing? I like "love" a lot. What's your favorite children's book? I loved books like The Rainbow Fish, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Stellaluna, 10 Minutes 'til Midnight, What Makes a Rainbow?, Chrysanthemum, etc. Is there a new season for a series you're excited to come out? Meerkat Manor comes back this summer, and I am fucking HYPED. How old are you? I'm 25. What is something unique you enjoy about the one you like/love? I tease her about it all the time, but it's really cute that she keeps all of her snakes' good sheds in her room. Proud reptile mom. Are you more liberal or conservative? I'm close to the middle, but I lean towards being more liberal, and I seem to go more that way with time. Do you watch American Horror Story? I used to. I saw the entire first season and really liked it, and then I almost finished the second, but I lost interest. The story got a bit stupid imo. I'd be willing to watch other seasons, though. Does your hometown have any urban legends/scary stories? None that I’m aware of. The people there are scary enough. What's the scariest nightmare you remember having? Let's not talk about it. Are you medicated? Uh very. Are there any apps you're addicted to? Nah. Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? It was initially a bunny holding a polka-dotted blanket, then it become a moose I got from Cabela's when in Ohio. Do you still collect stuffed animals? Only meerkat ones. Have you ever stolen/borrowed clothes from an ex? Haha I've worn Jason's pj pants before and they just kinda... became mine, lol. What's the last movie you watched at home? The Shining, I believe. What's the last movie you watched in theaters? The CGI remake of The Lion King. I still don't get why it was received so badly. Have you ever had eggs cooked over a campfire? I don't think so, no. If you do drink, what's your favorite alcoholic beverage? Margaritas, generally. However, Sara's dad made me this absofuckinglutely incredible chocolate drink before that tasted like a milkshake. It had like, no alcohol flavor, which worked out well for me considering I very much dislike that taste. Are there any songs you've been listening to repetitively lately? There's a new one every day lately, haha. Today it's Halocene's cover of "Love Bites (So Do I)." Cereal, granola, or oatmeal? Cereal. What TV shows did you grow up watching? You gotta gimme an age group... but I'd say the typical stuff for kids of that time. What does your phone case look like? It's just a boring purple that came with it. What were your favorite toys to play with as a child? I looooved playing with my "family" of a father crocodile, a mother deer, their two "children" (a fawn and smaller croc), and "friends" that were little Pokemon figurines. Then there was an evil t-rex with two stupid sidekicks, haha. I can't remember what dinosaurs they were. What's the most embarrassing thing you can ever remember doing? Hold on, lemme find my book. Do you remember what you dreamt about last night? I only very faintly recall dreaming about my cat Roman. Have you ever done anything embarrassing in a dream? Thank FUCK they're just dreams. Do you vape? Nah. What was a song you loved as a child? So uh. Apparently. I loved "Dookie" by Green Day. It's an undying story from Mom about how it came on once at a putt-putt place and I apparently started yelling "dookie!" and dancing. Do you enjoy the Arctic Monkeys? Yeah, I love some of their songs. Are you going to see Finding Dory? You bet your sweet ass I saw it. I've cried everytime I've watched it. Have you ever been horseback-riding? I have not, but I would love to. When was your last piercing? Whenever I got my tragus done, which I can't remember. What did your first crush look like? I don't remember my puppydog love first crush, but I can talk about my first REAL crush, Sebastian. He's a skinny dude with short, brown hair and a lip piercing... I can't remember which kind. He dressed in an emo style, and Facebook pictures at least suggest he still kind of does, I think. Is your body more curvy or flat? Well, I'm not at all skinny, so... What's your least favorite holiday? Probably Christopher Colombus Day, honestly. You didn't discover shit. Don't pretend to me it's worth celebrating in a clean conscience. if you’re having a boring day what do you usually do? If I'm rock-bottom bored, quite honestly, I normally nap, even though I know I shouldn't. Do you turn to food when you're upset? Ugh, I'm admittedly an emotional eater. I got way better about it, and then I started up again. Is your bf/gf good with your parents? I don't have an s/o. Do you think soda should be served at school? Vending machines are fine I suppose, as I don't believe they should be free seeing as they're nothing but sugar content, and I feel schools shouldn't just hand that out to kids at lunch or something. Do dogs have feelings? They sure do. Are you afraid of snakes? Oh no! I adore them. I respect snakes and am going to give wild ones their space for sure considering I don't recognize every native venomous one, but nevertheless, I'm not afraid of them. They are so vital to the ecosystem and are incredibly fascinating animals that deserve our protection. On that note, PLEASE do not kill any snake you come across in your shed or whatever. Call someone to relocate the terrified thing. Favorite snack? It depends on what I'm in the mood for, really. Ever seen The Notebook? Read the book, seen the movie plenty of times. Do you think cussing is trashy? No. Who is the most famous person you’ve met, if any? Nobody. Do you own any animals that aren’t domestic? No. Have you ever feared that you would lose a body part? No. Do you like gore? Yeah, generally. Do you like to drink water? Ugh, I really don't. I wish I did. Have you ever had a wax? I used to get my eyebrows waxed. Do you have any sets of matching bras and underwear? No. Are you any good at improv? Not at ALL.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''love bites (so do i)'' by halestorm

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rwbyremnants · 3 years

Link

Sorry for that sort of ominous down-note. It's where the story went!

And thanks to everybody who's hung in there and kept reading. I wish I still had other active members but basically it's just me still in this fandom. Pretty soon I'll have some brand new fics for you - if I get them finished and polished up sooner rather than later. Hope you're all staying safe and having a good 2021 so far!

=Chapter 31

Sleep did not come easily to Weiss that night. Already, she had been having trouble with that lately, but the impromptu inter-gang meeting robbed her of a few precious hours. Tossing and turning did even less good than usual, so many things were swirling around in her mind.

Her father was evil. So evil that he didn’t care if he burned down a building with dozens of women in it, didn’t care if he made a hapless girl commit a crime without any control of her actions. A man was dead. Didn’t he have any remorse whatsoever? The answer was “no” - and she knew why. His religious superiority complex wouldn’t let him see gangsters and thieves as human; they were beasts, demons that he had to cast out and they would deserve it when he did. The more time went on, the more sure she was that trying to reason with him was an exercise in futility.

Then there was Neo. Maybe Salem saw things as simple and black-and-white, but she somehow couldn’t bring herself to look down on either her or Emerald; they weren’t truly to blame. The man on the slab and her father, and whoever was their go-between, were the true culprits. How could anyone be so careless with human life?

Even harder to think about were people like her mother, and Pyrrha, and Ruby… innocent bystanders affected by these ugly turf wars. It was as if there were three gangs now, and one of them was completely made up of Jacques Schnee and anyone on his secret payroll. Maybe she should spend a little more time focusing on helping her non-Dragon friends; after all, they were precious to her and deserved happiness.

The next morning came far too early. The only silver lining was her mother’s smiling face, encouraging her to wake up. Maybe she was worrying too much; even though she had nightmares every night about being stabbed, everything was getting better now. And how much worse could it get than a near-death experience?

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

“So I was wondering about something,” Penny said out of nowhere at lunch that day.

“Yeah?” Ruby piped up before shoving half of her sandwich in her mouth. Weiss goggled at the sheer ability she had to devour everything in sight. Where did she put it all?

“Would you like to go to the dance with me?”

The entire table went silent. By now, that table was the Dragons table; it was looking a bit empty without Cinder or Emerald there, so Ruby, Penny, and Pyrrha were welcomed as temporary fill-ins — given that Cinder was probably the only one of them who would bother to protest. Blake and Coco were still very slightly skeptical, but also too unconcerned to bother trying to run them off.

“U-uhhm… the dance? What dance?”

“Nice try, sis,” Yang muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

“You know! Homecoming! We can paint our nails, and do our hair up, and have a great time! Doesn't that sound swell?”

Ruby looked highly uncomfortable, glancing at Weiss and Pyrrha, the girls besides her sister she felt closest to. Other than Penny, who was the source of her discomfort at that exact second.

“Go on,” Coco laughed. “Unless you have some secret fella you're hoping will ask you?”

“Nope! No fellas, I promise! But I… isn't it going to be against school rules? Two girls showing up together? People will talk! So while that, um, that really does sound swell, I don't know if it's such a good…”

Penny looked positively dejected. Her eyes swivelled down to her tray as she moved the food around with her fork. “Oh. Well, that's all right. It was just an idea.”

“Wait! Umm…” The poor girl looked around at her friends, seeking some sort of solution to this problem, but most of them were content to smirk in slight bemusement. “We could try it? Like, there's enough of us, I g-guess…”

Weiss decided to bail her out. “I, for one, will most certainly be attending with Yang. And I am pretty sure Coco and Velvet will also be going. Isn't that right?”

“Well… normally we would skip it, but sure,” Coco said easily as she cracked open her milk carton. “That way, I can show off my best girl.”

“How many other girls do you have?” When she only tilted her sunglasses down to waggle her eyebrows at the cheerleader, Weiss sighed, “I withdraw the question.”

The others were still laughing at that when their table was approached by one of the teachers. She certainly didn't seem pleased that she had to, but had a duty to perform.

“Miss Schnee.”

“Yes, Miss Goodwitch?”

“Your presence is requested in Mr. Ozpin’s office.” She scarcely shot a disapproving look toward the other girls before returning her gaze to Weiss.

“Oh. Now? I haven't finished my-”

“I'm afraid it can't wait. You may as well collect your things; you likely won't be back for the remainder of the school day.”

The feeling of dread that had begun to rise in her enjoyed a drastic increase. She glanced around at her other friends, hoping they could offer some help, but all of them except for Yang and Pyrrha were suddenly quite interested in their lunch trays.

“I'll… see you later, then,” she began in a meek voice as she stood, gathering her books.

Once they were in the hallway, Miss Goodwitch spoke up again. “Thought I recommended against you continuing to associate yourself with those… ruffians.”

“They really aren't as bad as you believe, ma’am. Honestly! And… well, I think Pyrrha and I are a good influence. As you can see, we're all getting along just f-”

“This isn't about them,” she cut her off in a clipped voice. That was simply her normal manner of speaking; Weiss didn't take it personally. “The principal will explain everything.”

Weiss had been expecting to have to wait outside his office for some time, since that seemed to be the standard procedure. Not that she knew from personal experience. However, Miss Goodwitch escorted her directly past the other students waiting on the benches and into the office itself.

“Ahhh, Miss Schnee,” the gray-haired man said immediately, a genial smile on his face. He looked a bit too young to have so much gray, but still carried himself with the poise and dignity expected from an older gentleman who was in charge of an entire school. “We've been anxious for you to arrive.”

Who the ‘we’ was turned out to be something of a surprise to the girl. “Mother?”

Willow definitely looked like she had had better days. Though her overall health had improved quite a bit over the past weeks, she was currently shaking like a leaf, clutching the straps of her taupe purse as if it were the edges of a life raft in shark-infested waters.

“Hello, Weiss. We… have an appointment this afternoon.”

“Allow me to express my profound apologies,” the principal told her, smile fading to a serious yet friendly expression. “Had we been aware of your situation at home… well, perhaps we would have encouraged you to pare down your extracurriculars. Or intervened in some way.”

Weiss held up a hand to forestall any more talk before she understood what the subject was. “Wait, wait… what's going on? Mother, you told the principal about Father?”

“I had to. You see… I'm afraid you and I will have to go and visit the courthouse today.”

“What?!”

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

The judge was a crotchety old man with a receding hairline and a permanent scowl etched into his wrinkled features. The way he looked at Weiss and her mother the minute they entered his courtroom smacked of mistrust and derision. He had clearly already made up his mind how he was going to rule before striking the gavel a single time upon his bench.

“Insufficient evidence” was the official reason handed down for the dismissal of the charges leveled against Jacques Schnee. No matter how much time they wasted bantering back and forth, pointing to Weiss's scar on her cheek or corroborating stories, the judge sat with his head propped up by one arm, bored as if by a particularly dull radio program. He expressed similar disinterest in the counterarguments of their ties to the Dragons - which had terrified Weiss at first, but didn't seem to matter to anyone other than her and her father. The proceedings droned on and on into the late afternoon, until a completely arbitrary point at which the judge announced that he would retreat into his chambers to deliberate.

“I don't know,” Willow whispered in a quiet voice as they waited. Their state-appointed lawyer, a young man with mousy brown hair who looked like he ought to still be apprenticing rather than representing clients yet, had been largely no use and had no reassurances for them now. “Maybe… we'll still win after all.”

“Do you really think so, Mother? Father seems to have that judge completely wrapped around his little finger! It's as if nothing we said made its way past his ears and into his brain! Why even bother having a trial at all if it was going to go like this?”

“To keep up appearances.”

They both whirled to see Kali approaching, clothed in a dress much more conservative than typically graced her figure. Willow rushed forward and clasped hands with her, grateful to see a friendly face. “Kali, dear!”

“I came as soon as I heard. Blake phoned when you never came back from lunch, and I did some asking around.” Then she turned to rest a hand on Weiss's shoulder. “How are you holding up? Both of you.”

Weary to her core, Weiss told her, “Been better. I don't think we stand much of a chance… but I guess we'll know soon, won't we?”

Very soon. Not more than a handful of breaths after that, the bailiff came back out and waved for the waiting parties to return for the verdict. Kali bade them luck and let them wing off toward the courtroom.

Jacques looked slightly more haggard than when last Weiss saw him, but still not quite so wrung-out as one might expect him to after a stint in the local jail. His grey hair and mustache were much the same, cheeks and chin impeccably shaved. But there was a cold emptiness in his eyes that stretched far beyond what it had been when last they talked. She found herself recoiling from the sight, unsettled by the intensity. Her mother had looked at him so rarely during the civil trial that one might almost wonder if she failed to notice his presence. The complete lack of passion with which he spoke to both the judge and his family sounded like a completely different man than she remembered helping to raise her and her two siblings.

“Alright,” the judge sighed with a boredom that somehow outstripped the levels from before. “This court has reached its verdict.”

Both Schnee women held their breath. Things didn't look good, but sometimes people could surprise you. Maybe the judge always looked like that. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe…

“On the count of spousal assault, we find the defendant, Jacques Schnee… not guilty.” Even as an exasperated noise sounded from the rear of the courtroom, where Weiss was sure Kali had seated herself, the man went on, “On the count of child abuse, the court also finds him not guilty. As to the countersuit of assault leveled at Willow Schnee, the court rules that groundless. All charges against all parties are hereby dismissed.”

An instant later, Weiss shot to her feet and screeched, “You can't do this! He was going to kill us! And now he's going to do it, anyway!”

Her father chuckled as the bailiff approached to unlock his handcuffs, and the sound was sickening and awful. “Dear daughter, will have to have a talk about that mouth of yours once we get home. Perhaps I'll send you to bed without supper.”

Even while both Weiss and her mother opened their mouths to protest, the judge banged his gavel on the bench. “Order, order! Enough! You women can’t ever accept your place, can you?” Even while Weiss was feeling her eyebrows hiking upward into her hairline, he went on, “All families fight. Every time you get a little testy, that’s no call to haul us all in here for nothing. Go home and get used to each other again. This court is adjourned.”

Disbelief flooded through her veins. He actually won. In the face of irrefutable police evidence, he won the court case and was freed…

Except there hadn’t been any evidence. The officers testified as to the state they found the man, but somehow, any and all records of Weiss and her mother’s injuries had vanished. The entire thing had been a mockery, a circus meant to appease the legal procedures but still manipulate things to her father’s advantage.

“Hello, family,” Jacques said with a wide smile as he approached the both of them. A chill ran down Weiss’s spine but she held her ground; she knew that with so many policemen around - and some of them likely in his pocket - it would be suicide to do anything else. “I’ve missed you.”

“Husband,” Willow whispered. Weiss could hear the terror in every syllable.

“You made a little mistake, didn’t you? Ah, well. We all make mistakes. Now… let’s go home, shall we?”

As they turned toward the door, Kali moved to block their exit. The fear already in Weiss’s throat increased by a thousandfold - this could only go horribly.

“Excuse me,” her father bade her in a smooth tone.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Kali said with a curtsy. “Kali Belladonna.”

“Charmed. And why should I care?”

“That isn’t my place to say. But you should.” She stared at him evenly. Weiss glanced at her mother to see if she would introduce them further, or to remark on the situation… but she didn’t. And Kali didn’t glance at the other women at all.

“Mmm.” He gestured toward the doors, and after a moment, she bowed her head slightly with a polite smile and let him pass. “Thank you.”

“Oh… you shouldn’t do that at all.”

By the time her father turned to look at Kali again, she was making her way into a neighboring hallway. Weiss had the strongest feeling that she had engineered that entire exchange purely to unsettle the man, but without her around to ask, she had no way of knowing.

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

The ride home was extremely tense. A few times, Jacques attempted to engage in small talk, and his wife would give one-word answers that never lent themselves to further discourse. Weiss stubbornly refused to say even that much. As far as she was concerned, this was even worse than having to pack into a hot, sweaty bus with the other cheerleaders to attend the away games.

“Now then,” he finally sighed as they pulled into the drive. “Things are going to be a bit different around here.”

“In what way?” his wife asked calmly.

“For starters, I insist I be treated with a little respect. The both of you seem to have forgotten who is the patriarch of this family - who is the breadwinner. As such, I believe that entitles me to a certain amount of deference. I expect my orders to be carried out, not argued with or refused.”

“Hmm.” That was it: just “hmm”. Weiss knew that her mother was disagreeing without openly stating as much.

Her father knew it, too. “Willow, this is not the time to be stubborn. Unless you need me to remind you of the judge’s words to us of less than an hour ago?”

“No, Jacques. I don’t.”

“Good. Glad that’s settled. Furthermore… Weiss, you will stop associating yourself with those nasty women immediately.” No response. “They are a criminal element, whether or not you wish to acknowledge that. It won’t do to have a Schnee connected to such matters.”

“Really?” Weiss piped up. “Doesn’t seem to stop you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Father, let’s not play games,” she went on in a falsely sweet voice that even turned her own stomach - not that it wasn’t turning all on its own. “You paid to have a man, pay a woman, to drug another woman, to stab me. Whom exactly is associating themselves with the criminal element?”

His already-chilled gaze dropped a few more degrees as they locked eyes in the rearview mirror. “Careful, young lady. Remember what sort of punishment you’re earning yourself.”

“Oh, you won’t be punishing me like that ever again. Ever. I may be your daughter, but I am no longer a child. And neither is your wife. Keep your meathooks to yourself!”

“I am the head of this family. If you girls can’t fall in line with the way things ought to be, the way things must be to ensure we all enjoy a respectable and prosperous future, then certain… corrections are in order, regrettable as they are.”

The both of them were still glaring at each other half a minute later when Weiss’s mother spoke up, “I’m not a girl.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not.” Blotchy red patches were flaring up in the cheek Weiss could see from her position in the back seat when she turned to glare daggers at the man. “I am not a child, Jacques.”

“I never said you were. But if you insist on behaving like one, you will be treated like one.”

“No, I will not. I won’t be… bent over your knee like a baby! That is beneath a w-woman of my age, and I am sorry if you find that frustrating, but… but I just can’t. Not anymore.”

He bared his teeth. “That tears it. You will be punished the moment we get inside the house. Both of you. And let’s not entertain any more ideas of you breaking vases over my head; I’ve had a word with the police department. Any further incidents such as those will be handled very differently. You would be the one behind bars, not I. So you will prostrate yourself before me and take your punishment for such insolence!”

“Ah,” she said as calmly as she could. “Then in that case, I won’t be going inside the house.”

Again, he was forced to ask, “Excuse me?”

“Weiss, we’re leaving. Come along.”

“Of course, Mother,” she said sweetly. She was tempted to repeat a rude gesture she had once seen in her father’s general direction, but decided that a poisonous smile worked just as well.

They both could easily guess that he wouldn’t let it go so easily. The women had scarcely reached the end of the drive when he boiled out of the car and stomped toward them, incensed. “You get back here this instant! I will not be ignored, and you will not destroy this family over some… some petty squabble!”

“Jacques… you’ve already destroyed this family.”

“Get back in that house now, Willow, and all will be forgiven,” he attempted, changing tactics. His anger still pulsed inside every word, but he was attempting to mask it with ice. “Your last chance for amnesty. The judge instructed us to start fresh, and we’d best attempt it now.”

“I don’t believe you. And,” she added when he opened his mouth to speak once more, “I have a promise to uphold. A promise I made myself.”

“Oh? And what promise might that be?”

Her arm draped over Weiss’s shoulder, drawing her close to her side. “That I would never fail to protect my daughter from you again. You do not see women as people. Whitley may choose for himself if he wishes to stay with you, or come with us; we’ll ring him at the school. But for now, I refuse to step foot inside the same house as you. I… may have been blind and deaf and dumb before, but that was cowardice, and my parenting was… I was inadequate. You took advantage of that, and kept me under your thumb. No more.”

“What?” He laughed, arms spread wide as he tried to work his way through his wife’s words one at a time. “I’m baffled. You’re talking utter nonsense. What advantage have I taken? Oh, perhaps what you mean is that I did my best not to allow your weakness to ruin my attempts at grooming our daughter to be a responsible citizen! That I have tried my best, against your combined efforts and inaction, to keep her from turning into a delinquent!”

“Think what you will. But any man who arranges to burn down a building, whether or not his own daughter is there… no. We won’t be living under the same roof for a moment - a second longer. Goodbye, Jacques.”

As they walked away, he shouted at their backs, “HAH! Where will you go, then? Nowhere! Imagine, my pampered little princesses living on the streets, hand-to-mouth! Absurd! You’ll be back, and then you’ll suffer the consequences of your… your betrayal! This house belongs to be, it's in my name, and you are at my mercy! Whether you like it or not!”

“Don’t look back,” her mother whispered in a trembling voice, trying to stay steady in her high-heeled pumps. “Keep walking.”

“Where are we going?” Weiss asked softly.

“To see if your friend is home. If she is, she can take us somewhere safe.”

A little flutter of fear welled up in her stomach. “What if Pyrrha’s still at practice?”

“Then… we’ll keep walking," she answered in a voice so close to tears that Weiss clutched her hand even tighter. "I don’t care where we end up, but it won’t be in his house. Never again.”

#princess and the dragons #1950s au #freezerburn fanfic #rwby fanfiction #rwbyremnants

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didanawisgi · 4 years

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by Robin Koerner

“Jordan Peterson, the Canadian professor of psychology who in the last year has become North America’s most popular public intellectual, has spent many decades studying tyranny and its antecedents. As a result, he frequently warns his audiences of the unparalleled destructive power of “ideological possession.”

As someone who has long been writing about the threat posed by this all too prevalent epistemic disease, I am delighted to see the attention that is now being paid to it.

Ideological possession is to healthy political discourse as scientism is to science.

Any ideology has the potential to be deadly.

The most important thing to know about diagnosing ideological possession is that you can’t do it by looking at the content of the possessing ideology.

As I have said elsewhere, it’s not the content of your belief that makes you dangerous, it’s the way you believe it.

Any ideology has the potential to be deadly when advanced by those who are so sure of their own knowledge and moral outlook that they would impose it against the protestations of those affected by it. To the ideologically possessed, the imposition can always be justified because “it’s the right thing to do,” “it will start working if we keep at it,” “the complaints are coming from bad people,” and so on. (Yes. The logic is as circular as it seems.)

So, with apologies to Dr. Peterson and an open invitation to him to amend and augment the following (he is the clinician, after all), here, for diagnostic purposes, is a list of symptoms of ideological possession—that most fatal of epistemic diseases.

Cautions and Caveats

The symptoms of ideological possession manifest differently according to the possessing ideology.

So, for illustrative purposes, the following list of symptoms is presented with example manifestations, labeled to indicate their association with so-called “progressive” (P), so-called “conservative” (C), and so-called “libertarian” (L) possessing ideologies.

For instance, the fact that someone believes the world is out to get them doesn’t necessarily mean they are paranoid.

To be fair, it is not the case that all people who present with manifestations similar to those listed below are exhibiting symptoms of ideological possession. It is, after all, quite possible to hold apparently simplistic or radical views that are very carefully arrived at with an open mind, good data, and intellectual honesty.

For instance, the fact that someone believes the world is out to get them doesn’t necessarily mean they are paranoid (B does not imply P). More interestingly, as the old saw goes, just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that the world isn’t out to get you (P does not strictly mean B is false).

Nevertheless, believing the world is out to get you is a very good diagnostic marker for paranoia (B is highly causally correlated with P).

So with that caution, the manifestations below are offered because I have witnessed each one, and when I did so, had reason to believe it was symptomatic of at least the early stages of the onset of ideological possession.

List of Symptoms for Diagnostic Purposes

Major Symptoms

The possessed insists that anyone who disfavors a specific view or policy must also reject the basic moral value that, to the possessed individual, justifies that view or policy. This is the fallacy of the assumed paradigm. (L: “If you won’t let mothers protect their children with guns, you’re a misogynist.” C: “People who favor gun control don’t value freedom.” P: “People against regulating firearms don’t care about violence against children.”)

The possessed uses one-dimensional labels for people they’ve never met and who clearly aren’t one-dimensional as a means of dismissing the value of all their beliefs or actions. (L: “Churchill was a mass-murderer.” C: “Gandhi was a pedophile.” P: “Thatcher was a witch.”)

Related to the above, the possessed will regard a few quotes or actions by an individual as proof that the individual is evil without regard to context, appreciation that everyone is a product of his time, recognition that people change over time, or consideration of other quotes and actions that provide evidence against the claimed ill intent of the individual in question.

The possessed advocates worse treatment of people within a specified group than others. (P: “Straight white men have privilege and so should have their opinions discounted or suppressed.” L: “People who work for the state initiate violence, and it is ok to use violence against those who initiate violence.” C: “People who burn the flag are traitors and should be punished as such.”)

The possessed believes that a single principle provides answers to most important moral and political questions, disregarding reasonable moral intuitions to the contrary (precisely because they are to the contrary) and any uncertainty regarding the precise meaning or application of the principle. (P: “Equality.” L: “Non-aggression.” C: “Biblical authority.”)

When the results of an ideologically justified action are the opposite of those intended or used to justify that action in the first place, the possessed is convinced that not only is the action not the cause of any resulting problem but that more of the same action will eventually solve that problem. (P: “Venezuela needs more socialism.” C: “We need more unprovoked military involvement in conflicts that don’t involve us.” L: “Europe should open its borders immediately to everyone.”)

Minor Symptoms

The possessed enjoys opportunities to defend what he believes more than opportunities to make his beliefs more accurate.

The possessed collects data that support her beliefs instead of seeking data that would help her correct false beliefs.

The possessed offers unsolicited opinions without any empathic engagement with the recipient or any interest in whether she is in any state to be positively influenced by them.

The possessed would rather reform society’s institutions to better serve his ideology than reform his ideology to better serve people.

Immunity, Pathology, and Cure

Fortunately, the epistemic immune system of most mentally healthy people protects them from ideological possession. The core of the immune response—and indeed an effective cure—is Love of Truth, specifically the holding of Truth as the highest moral value.

Love of Truth, in fact, provides a near-perfect protection against ideological possession.

Pathologically, ideological possession may even be understood as the substitution of that highest value by another.

Love of Truth, in fact, provides a near-perfect protection against ideological possession because the disease, while deadly, has no defense against the honest admission by the afflicted of his or her symptoms.

Nevertheless, the most pernicious and subtle feature of the disease prevents the possessed from seeking treatment or treating himself: ideological possession can disguise itself in the mind of the afflicted as that very same Love of Truth that, in its authentic form, would cure it.

What conditions, then, enable those in the grip of ideological possession—whose love of Truth may have already been replaced by a counterfeit—to cure themselves?

To answer that, it is important to understand the symbiotic relationship of the disease with its host.

Although epidemics of ideological possession can be fatal to entire societies, the disease provides immediate benefits to the individual who is afflicted, such as intellectual certainty and stability, feelings of moral superiority, an apparent simplification of life’s difficult decisions and questions, avoidance of true moral responsibility, and a sense of belonging among others similarly afflicted. All of these tend to prevent self-treatment.

The painful shock activates the Love of Truth long enough to locate the cause of the pain.

Accordingly, the cures for ideological possession tend to be external and unsought. They nevertheless exist and fall into two broad categories—fast cures and slow cures.

Fast cures tend to be triggered by a catastrophic failure of one or more of the above benefits to the afflicted individual. This may occur when, despite the highly motivated perception and reasoning of the possessed individual, she experiences an unexpected, painful, and shocking outcome of an ideologically motivated action. The painful shock activates the Love of Truth long enough to locate the cause of the pain, forcing the afflicted to admit the symptoms, and therefore identify the disease for what it is, effecting the rapid cure.

Slow cures tend to involve a rising awareness by one afflicted individual of the same disease in friends or others with whom she identifies. This can be induced when the individual sees inconsistencies in those others’ words and actions that cause direct harm to others and to the stated goals of the possessing ideology. (In theory, this slow cure could be induced by observations of one’s own actions under ideological possession, but this is prevented by the self-righteousness that is felt when one acts in the grip of the disease.)

Maintaining Good Epistemic Health

To protect oneself from the terrible epistemic disease of ideological possession, epistemic nutrition and exercise are extremely effective.

The good news is, if you’re chasing Truth hard enough, it is very unlikely that this particular disease will ever catch up with you.

With respect to the former, the regular consumption of great thinkers like J.S. Mill (“He who knows only his own side of the case knows little of that”), George Orwell (“To see what is in front of one’s nose needs a constant struggle”), and Dostoevsky (“Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer. Nothing is more difficult than to understand him”) will keep you in good epistemic health. Supplement these basics with a more varied diet of thinkers with whom you disagree on things that matter, and you’ll be in even better shape.

With respect to the latter, a comfortable regime of epistemic exercise—which takes a little time and effort but is immediately rewarding—involves maintaining real friendships with people who have very different assumptions, experiences, and declared moral and political priorities from your own.

The good news is, if you’re chasing Truth hard enough, it is very unlikely that this particular disease will ever catch up with you.”

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red-will · 3 years

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I don't know what to do with good white people.

I've been surrounded by good white people my whole life. Good white people living in my neighborhood, who returned our dog when he got loose; good white teachers in elementary school who pushed books into my hands; good white professors at Stanford, a Bay Area bastion of goodwhiteness, who recommended me M.F.A. programs where I met good white writers, liberal enough for a Portlandia sketch.

I should be grateful for this. Who, in generations of my family, has ever been surrounded by so many good white people? My mother was born to sharecroppers in Louisiana; she used to measure her feet with a piece of string because they could not try on shoes in the store. She tells me of a white policeman who humiliated her mother by forcing her to empty her purse on the store counter just so he could watch her few coins spiral out.

Two summers ago, my mother showed me the welfare reports written about her family. The welfare officer, a white woman, observed my family with a careful, anthropological eye. She described the children, including my mother, as "nice and clean." She asked personal questions (did my grandmother have a boyfriend?) and wrote her findings in a detached tone. She wondered why my grandmother, an illiterate Black mother of nine living in the Jim Crow South, struggled to find a steady job. Maybe, she wrote in her loopy scrawl, my grandmother wasn't searching hard enough.

This faded report is the type of official document a historian might consult if he were re-constructing the story of my family. The author, this white welfare officer, writes as if she is an objective observer, but she tells a well-worn story of Black women who refuse to work and instead depend on welfare. Occasionally, her clinical tone breaks down. Once, she notes that my mother is pretty. She probably considered herself a good white person.

In the wake of the Darren Wilson non-indictment, I've only deleted one racist Facebook friend. This friend, as barely a friend as a high school classmate can be, re-posted a rant calling rioters niggers. (She was not a good white person.) Most of my white friends have responded to recent events with empathy or outrage. Some have joined protests. Others have posted Criming While White stories, a hashtag that has been criticized for detracting from Black voices. Look at me, the hashtag screams, I know that I am privileged. I am a good white person. Join me and remind others that you are a good white person too.

Over the past two weeks, I've seen good white people congratulate themselves for deleting racist friends or debating family members or performing small acts of kindness to Black people. Sometimes I think I'd prefer racist trolling to this grade of self-aggrandizement. A racist troll is easy to dismiss. He does not think decency is enough. Sometimes I think good white people expect to be rewarded for their decency. We are not like those other white people. See how enlightened and aware we are? See how we are good?

Over the past two weeks, I have fluctuated between anger and grief. I feel surrounded by Black death. What a privilege, to concern yourself with seeming good while the rest of us want to seem worthy of life.

When my father was a young man, he was arrested at gunpoint. He was a Deputy District Attorney at the time, driving home one night from bible study when LAPD pulled him over. A traffic violation, he'd thought, until officers swarmed his car with shotguns aimed at his head. The cops refused to look in his wallet at his badge. They cuffed him and threw him on the curb.

My father is mostly thankful that he'd stayed calm. In his shock, he had done nothing. That's what he believes saved his life.

I think about this while I watch Eric Garner die. For months, I avoided the video, until we arrived at another officer non-indictment. Now I've seen the video of Garner's death, as well as a second video I find even more disturbing. This second video, taken immediately after Garner has been killed by a banned chokehold, shows officers attempting to speak to him, asking him to respond to EMTs. They do not yet know that he is dead, and there's something about this moment, officers shuffling around as an EMT seeks a pulse, that is so bafflingly and frustratingly human, so different from the five officers lunging and wrangling Garner to the ground.

In the wake of this non-indictment, a surprising coalition of detractors has emerged. Not just black and brown students hitting the streets in protest but conservative stalwarts, like Bill O'Reilly or John Boehner, criticizing the lack of justice. Even George W. Bush weighed in, calling the grand jury's decision "sad." But even though many find Garner's death wrong, others refuse to believe that race played a role. His death was the result of overzealous policing, a series of bad individual choices. It would have happened to a white guy. The same way in Cleveland, a 12-year-old Black boy named Tamir Rice was killed by officers for playing with a toy gun. An unfortunate tragedy, but not racial. Any white kid playing with a realistic-looking toy gun would have been killed too.

Darren Wilson has been unrepentant about taking Mike Brown's life. He insists he could not have done anything differently. Daniel Pantaleo has offered condolences to the Garner family, admitting that he "feels very bad" about Garner's death.

"It is never my intention to harm anyone," he said.

I don't know which is worse, the unrepentant killer or the man who insists to the end that he meant well.

A year ago, outside the Orange County airport, a white woman cut in front of me at the luggage check. She had been standing next to me, and soon as the luggage handlers called next, she swooped up her things and went to the counter. She'd cut me because I was black. Or maybe because I was young. Maybe she was running late for her flight or maybe she was just rude. She would've cut me if I had been a white woman like her. She would've cut me if I had been anyone.

Of course, the woman ended up on my flight, and of course, she was seated right next to me. Before the flight took off, she turned to me and said, "I'm sorry if I cut you earlier. I didn't see you standing there."

I often hear good white people ask why people of color must make everything about race, as if we enjoy considering racism as a motivation. I wish I never had to cycle through these small interactions and wonder: Am I overthinking? Am I just being paranoid? It's exhausting.

"It was a lot simpler in the rural South," my mother tells me. "White people let you know right away where you stood."

The problem is that you can never know someone else's intentions. And sometimes I feel like I live in a world where I'm forced to parse through the intentions of people who have no interest in knowing mine. A grand jury believed that Darren Wilson was a good officer doing his job. This same grand jury believed than an eighteen-year-old kid in a monstrous rage charged into a hailstorm of bullets toward a cop's gun.

Wilson described Michael Brown as a black brute, a demon. No one questioned Michael Brown's intentions. A stereotype does not have complex, individual motivations. A stereotype, treated as such, can be forced into whatever action we expect.

I spent a four hour flight trying not to wonder about the white woman's intentions. But why would she think about mine? She didn't even see me.

In elementary school, my older sister came home one day crying. She had learned about the Ku Klux Klan in class that day and she was afraid that men in white hoods would attack us. My father told her there was nothing to worry about.

"If a Klansman sat at this table right now," he said, "I'd laugh right in his face."

My mother tells stories of Klansmen riding at night, of how her grandmother worried when the doctor's son—a white boy—visited her youngest sister because she feared the Klan would burn down their home. When I was a child, I only saw the Klan in made-for-TV civil rights movies or on theatrical episodes of Jerry Springer. My parents knew what we would later learn, that in the nineties, in our California home, surrounded by good white people, we had more to fear than racism that announces itself.

We all want to believe in progress, in history that marches forward in a neat line, in transcended differences and growing acceptance, in how good the good white people have become. So we expect racism to appear, cartoonishly evil like a Disney villain. As if a racist cop is one who wakes in the morning, twirling his mustache and rubbing his hands together as he plots how to destroy black lives.

I don't think Darren Wilson or Daniel Pantaleo set out to kill Black men. I'm sure the cops who arrested my father meant well. But what good are your good intentions if they kill us?

When my friends and I discuss people we dislike, we often end our conversations with, "But he means well."

We always land here, because we want to affirm ourselves as fair, non-judgmental people who examine a person not only by what he does but also by what he intends to. After all, aren't all of us standing in the gap between who we are and who we try to be? Isn't it human to allow those we dislike—even those who harm us—a residence in this space as well?

"You know what? He means well," we say. We lean on this, and the phrase is so condescending, so cloyingly sweet, so hollow, that I'd almost rather anyone say anything else about me than how awful I am despite how good I intend to be.

I think about this during a car ride last weekend with my dad, where he tells me what happened once the cops finally realized they had arrested the wrong man. They picked him up from the curb, brushed him off.

"Sorry, buddy," an officer said, unlocking his handcuffs.

They'd made an honest mistake. He'd fit the description. Well, of course he did. The description is always the same. The police escorted my father onto the road. My father, not yet my father, drove all the way home without remembering to turn his headlights on.

Brit Bennett recently earned her M.F.A. in creative writing at the the Helen Zell Writers' Program at the University of Michigan. She is currently a Zell Postgraduate Fellow, where she is working on her first novel.

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