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zeroducks-2 · 8 months

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(I hope I worded this right and that it does not come across as rude or snarky, I genuinely want to hear your thoughts) So does that mean your interpretation of Bruce is that he is, how do I say it, “indefinitely fucked/flawed”? That there are not many moments where he did goodness for the pure sake of it? Or it’s something like, 90% flawed 10% good?

It actually depends on who writes him, and on the media we're taking into consideration. I know that this might sound contradictory with my previous post, but I honestly don't think there's one interpretation of a character who's 80+ year old and went through the hands of hundreds of writers.

There are a few things that only "happened once" if you understand what I mean, like Cassandra's story. That story has only one iteration, there are no variants to take into consideration or other Batman media that explore it, so we can judge it by what happened that one time, but this is a rarity among the most important Batman stories. Think of UTRH. Bruce is way less ruthless in the animated version and the ending is very different from what happens in the comics.

Bruce did a lot of good things for the pure sake of it, there's no denying that. He's able to offer a helping hand even to the most monstruous, he will help criminals because he genuinely wants them to better themselves. He will get down to his knees to hug and comfort a crying child, he will use his money and resource and do whatever he can to heal his city.

But he will also beat people to the point of crippling them, he will send folks to jail for the most minor of offences, he considers disabled and "mentally challenged" people as a burden for society.

He loves the kids he keeps around and would die for them. But he also hits Dick and will beat him into a pulp when Dick refuses to do his bidding. He suffered for Jason's death and wanted to kill Joker in the heat of the moment, but will also cut Jason's neck and leave him to die again in order to save Joker's life. As protective and sweet as he is with Tim, he used Stephanie to manipulate him into becoming Robin again, acting terribly towards both kids. And I could go on but you get the picture.

All of these things shouldn't coexist but they do because the character is written by different people with different opinions and understanding of right and wrong, of what is an isn't an acceptable behavior for a man and a parental figure to have, and of who the character is and stands for in general.

It might seem that I don't like Bruce all that much and I surely don't like him as a person, but I also love him as a character for what he represents historically, for the nuance of his many depictions. Though I rarely ever defend him when it comes to people criticising his actions, because those actions need to be criticised. And I will hiss at canon stuff that insists on making Bruce always look like the flawless hero because he ain't it, and at people who claim that nonsense takes are canon (like Cass being his favorite) because I have a personal issue with people taking a headcanon that comes from the fact that they didn't read the comics, and shoving it on everyone's face demanding they accept it as "what actually happened".

I hope it makes sense.

#My asks #Bruce Wayne #I don't really remember what I wrote in the other post I was barely even awake lol #my meta #And BTW you don't come off as snarky in any way no worries

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jennawynn · 2 months

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Chronotrek TNG Part 3

Season 2 Episode 2 to 9

2- ugh I am really not liking Pulaski.

3- I love that Geordi's Data's ride-or-die.

4- Was this comic supposed to be actually funny?

Recently I went to a 'neurospicy' meetup where we discussed neurodivergent identity, common behaviors, and media representation. Data is often lauded as one of the first, most recognizable, and most relatable of this representation, even if (and maybe because) he wasn't meant to be. This episode features a few things that we specifically spoke about, even though it wasn't about him: he studies humanity as though he is not part of it. (Several of us, myself included, were scholars of history, psychology, anthropology, sociology.) he over-analyzes his own behavior compared to that of others to try to fit in and act in a manner that aligns with what is expected or what makes others comfortable. (masking) he does not understand many types of humor, though he does tend to understand wordplay and logical humor.

One of the most pertinent topics we covered in this hour or two long conversation was how often what we say is mistaken for a joke. That we accidentally perform observational humor by stating something that we notice and someone else finds that funny. We might even become known as funny people... and that being mistaken for funny is the best possible outcome of the situation since the alternative is being labelled rude, out of touch, ignorant, etc. At the end of the episode, it is suggested that Data's timing is off, to which he replies "My timing is digital," and everyone chuckles. He then realizes the connection to the origin of that humor and tries to capture the same lightning in a bottle immediately turning everyone off. It was one of the most relatable things I've seen in all of Trek.

5- I really do like how they portrayed disability in TNG. Geordi's the most obvious example, but here they also have a Deaf character who speaks through his chorus. I have some concerns about how his translators are treated as extensions of himself rather than individuals with jobs (do they have rights? do they have time off? do they get to have relationships of their own?)

and unlike many recent shows where people with similar or parallel identities never actually get to discuss their similarities or differences, Riva immediately discusses his disability with Geordi. Do you resent being blind or being dependent on your visor? No, because they're part of me and I'm happy with myself. There is a little bit of a wish that they also showed someone who maybe had a different mindset, but I suppose in this universe at this time, anyone who didn't see their disability as part of themselves and instead as something that happened to them could have had it fixed. As always, it's nice to get a wider variety of experiences rather than only focusing on one... but if we can only have one, the one that adds to acceptance is preferred.

The way he was coming onto Troi was squicking me out, though I think it was because she seemed to be uncomfortable with it... and later I think it was more because there was an 'audience'. Once his chorus was dismissed, she became more comfortable with it and therefore so did I.

And there's Pulaski being a dick again. Twenty percent loss is NOT almost as good. That's an incredible margin of error when you're talking about sight! It is interesting to know that Geordi has chronic pain associated with his sight, but I think she was being insensitive to how he might feel about it, just assuming he'd want 'normal' sight.

6- Well this one's dated from the title alone. They've definitely been doing a lot of work to humanize Data and set up the arguments I know are coming in The Measure of a Man. This whole season seems to be reinforcing the idea that Data is both machine and something more.

"He is different, yes, but that does not make him expendable or any less significant. No being is so important that he can usurp the rights of another."

Beyond the obvious allusion to disability, neurodivergence, and race here, I'd like to point out the second sentence coupled with the fact that in 2x1 when Troi was discovered to be pregnant, almost everyone immediately suggested termination of the pregnancy means that the Federations is pro-abortion rights.

7- a force field? Have those words ever been used on Trek before? it sounds out of place.

Pulaski told Data to pilot the shuttle without telling him why. He should have been given the courtesy of informed consent. She just assumes he can't be affected, but she doesn't actually _know_ this for a fact, just as she didn't know the children were infected/carriers/the cause of the problem. Then, when she is stricken, he has to go with her, and honestly? should probably have been left there with her. To let him come back before they'd figured out the cause could have been dangerous. So she effectively sentenced him to quarantine on a planet FOREVER without telling him what he was getting into... because she doesn't consider him a person.

She has Bones's fear of the transporter. From @jbk405's replies earlier, the Doylist take I understand is more trying to make a New Bones for TNG, but the in-universe Watsonian explanation implies that medical professionals might know something about transporters we don't... and that could be interesting (Dr. M'Benga aside, I suppose, since he's keeping his daughter in there forever)

8- Riker on a Klingon ship. I almost wish it had lasted longer.

9- I think I've said pretty much all I need to say about this in the leadup. I do think the "why don't Starfleet officers all have to replace their eyes with cybernetic implants" is an excellent point, and I definitely saw the things he was packing as being foreshadowing for the trial later. I was expecting to see the same kind of uno reverse gotcha that we saw in Strange New Worlds with Una's trial. It was interesting to see it take the direction it did, spurred by a real life Black woman equating a fleet of Datas with disposable people and slavery. It was a nice touch to have her prompt that discussion instead of it being someone whitesplaining slavery to a Black woman. And I think Picard's reasoning is entirely in keeping with the Federation's goals.

To strip Data of his personhood would be a step backwards for the Federation, and I'm glad they went the other way, though I think that's how they should have phrased the actual question. Whether he is alive, sapient, sentient, etc. is not actually what they were after. They were trying to decide if he should be given the rights of being a person, which especially when you have several non-human races is a more important question than whether you are human.

#chronotrek #the next generation #star trek #the measure of a man #data

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swamp-spirit · 2 years

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So I have a hoarding problem -

I haven't accepted this until very recently. I knew I 'struggled to keep my house clean', I even knew mental illness was a big part of this, but I never called it hoarding. It's even more recent that I'd be able to talk about it, but I've been learning how common it is, especially for people with anxiety, depression, ADHD, and OCD, so I wanted to talk a bit about my experience because I think it might help somebody else. Hoarding makes you feel gross and disgusting. It makes you feel like you should just go die and clean the world up a little.

If you see yourself in any of this, I want you to know that's good. Accepting this was a problem felt... physically painful, but it has been such a relief. Hoarding is usually less of a mental illness and more of a symptom of other mental illnesses. Realizing so many of my issues were rooted not just in executive function issues, but how those issues combined with my OCD. Like many other issues, the biggest turning point in hoarding is accepting that

A) You have a problem

B) You can get better

I feel so lucky to have realized what was happening so young (I'm thirty, while my two relatives with hoarding refused to deal with it until their 60s and 70s).

I knew my wife had hoarding issues. (FYI, she read over this and it's all shared with permission) She has what I've always thought of as hoarding: sentimental hoarding. It's the kind I think gets talked about the most, but some of the most emotionally painful to deal with. For various reasons, holding onto stuff from her past is really important to her, and it can be hard to get rid of any objects she connects to certain times, experiences, and people. I was able to recognize this as hoarding, but it took me a lot longer to recognize my own problem.

Two years ago, I moved into a new apartment with my wife. We never unpacked most of the boxes. Instead, they slowly became buried.

We couldn't use most of our house. I couldn't access most of my things. The shame was... intense. Every time apartment maintenance had to come in for three minutes to check something, I'd have panic attacks the whole week. Even now, even knowing it might help other people, it's hard for me to discuss the details of how my home looked and smelled. I never had a friend over the whole time I lived there.

So it turns out what I mostly deal with is trash hoarding.

On syndicated hoarding freak shows, trash hoarding is combined with sentimental hoarding. We can be fascinated by how anybody could have an emotional attachment to a bunch of old soda cans.

But I didn't have any attachment to my kitchen full of dirty, empty peanut butter jars. No, I just “cared about the planet”.

Let's break down how 'wanting to recycle' can become life-ruining.

OCD – I have, during quarantine, realized a lot of the overwhelming shame that's dominated my life is a form of OCD called 'moral-scrupulosity'. I want to go through life never doing harm, never hurting anyone's feelings, having any 'bad' opinions, liking any 'bad' media, or thinking any 'bad' thoughts. When I was in my agoraphobia phase, I became so scared of stepping on an insect that the thought of moving upset me.

Recycling is a big part of this. Being a human that creates waste is unacceptable. If it can be recycled, it should be. If it can't be, I shouldn't buy it. If I need it, ???. I should die? Self-flagellate until my carbon sins are atoned?

Hole covered shirts could be mended or cut into rags! And that broken laptop, wow, you can just get rid of a whole laptop? Okay, Bezos. People are starving to death, but I guess we can just afford to not salvage that for parts.

My parents are fantastic at recycling. They buy most things used, recycle everything they can, including driving boxes of sorted items out to the dump since there isn't a robust recycling program in my hometown.

So shouldn't I just be an obsessive recycler? Well, that's where we get

ADHD & Physical Disability

If you have the obsessive need to recycle, and the ability to recycle, you still have a problem. You may have a clean house and a reduced carbon footprint, but it will never feel good enough, because that's not how OCD works.

On the other hand, if you have the obsessive need to recycle, but not the ability... well, that's when you get 30 moldy peanut butter jars scattered throughout your kitchen. Which makes cleaning anything else in your kitchen more overwhelming, which makes it harder to get to the jars, and you're well on your way to spending the next decade hating yourself more and more as your home turns into a biohazard.

My apartment wasn't filled with trash because I 'thought it might be useful', my house was filled with trash because I was physically and mentally unable to recycle, but felt like accepting this and throwing it in the garbage was unforgivable. It doesn't help that there are people who will treat this as unforgivable, who won't understand why I felt the task was insurmountable, but it was, and I wasn't recycling. If I'd kept up what I was doing, all I would have done would be leaving a mess for somebody else to clean up when I died.

It Takes Two!

If I didn't have OCD, I could probably accept my limits and recycle what I could instead of trying to meet impossible standards. Actually, I'd probably recycle more if it was easier to give myself a clean work area. If I didn't have ADHD, I'd probably, you know, recycle the damn peanut jars more often.

Obviously this isn't the combination for everyone. Perhaps throwing things away makes you anxious, but depression has sapped your motivation to sort them.

Listen, if there's parts of your house you can't use (a room, a door, etc), if you're afraid to have people over because there's a pile of trash, it's time to take a look in the mirror and ask yourself if you're hoarding.

If you are, qualified help is probably best. There are professionals, both mental health and organization specialists, who do this for a living. There are also many great books on the subject and related subjects. (A friend recently recommended 'How to Keep House When You're Drowning' and I think it contains some great advice.)

One of the biggest things that has changed, however, is realizing why I act the way I do has been vital to getting myself out of it. I spent years trying to shame myself into keeping a cleaner space. Recently, I've been working on a practical, compassionate approach, figuring out how to make cleaning more accessible and tolerable. It's worked better than shame, but... well, it didn't clean the damn peanut butter jars, and it didn't convince me to throw them out.

I thought that keeping trash around to recycle later was better than throwing it out and ‘giving up’. It turns out keeping trash around actually just filled my house with trash, and seeing the overall pattern really helped me make those hard decisions. During my move across state, I got rid of three broken laptops. My wife and I recycled, donated, and, when necessary, trashed about half of what was in our home and... it's such a relief. It was hard. It was painful. I am so glad I did it.

I am not cured. Not falling into the same patterns will take work. I will need help. My home will never be clean enough to make that voice that says I'm disgusting and don't deserve to exist shut up, but I have been fighting that fight for years and have long passed the place where that felt pointless.

The shame is still raw, but shame makes you want to not talk about it, and... I know how much easier the past few years would have been if I'd seen more people openly talk about struggling with cleaning or hygiene, and when they do, somebody always comes in to say “actually, it's not acceptable to let it get that bad. You should be (showering every day/mopping every week/cleaning your sheets every week/recycling everything you can)”. Any attempt to provide comfort and connection when your struggle is less “my counter is a bit cluttered” and more “I can no longer use my kitchen” is met with the accusation that you're enabling bad behavior, that you are disgusting, you should be ashamed, and maybe if you just try, you won't be so gross. Honestly, I’ve really only ever heard about hoarding from the perspective of people struggling with a loved ones hoarding, and though dealing with a loved one's mental health struggles is painful and people should be encouraged to openly talk about it, if us hoarders don’t talk, it means only hearing about our mental illness from the perspective of how difficult it makes things for other people. (or with a recovery arc that fits into a 45 minute episode)

I can't say I'm not ashamed. I have a hoarding problem, it got bad, not even half as bad as it can get, but bad, and the shame is still enough to make me too ill to eat, but I am starting to feel like I don't deserve that shame. And if you struggle with hoarding, or any other problem you feel like is too 'gross' to talk about, I want to tell you that you don't deserve to feel this way.

#hoarding #ocd #moral scrupulosity #trash hoarding #i will be using the block button liberally in regards to this post because my emotions around this are raw as hell #suicidal ideazation tw

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weed-cat · 2 years

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with the news that just hit the US, i think it’s time for me to share my abortion story, or at least what i remember of it.

genuinely i feel so sick to my stomach right now. if this all actually goes through, people will die, people will become very preventably permanently physically disabled, people will suffer grievous emotional/mental trauma, from being forced to attempt to carry out a pregnancy.

this is something that is absolutely terrifying for everyone who can become pregnant, and i can’t help but think about how it’s going to impact trans men and other masc genderqueer people who can become pregnant especially. there are already fewer options for us for reproductive care than there are for cis women because of transandrophobic healthcare systems, and it’s terrifying to think of how many of those already limited options could be taken from us.

recounting of the events under the cut. cw for childhood pregnancy and for very shaky consent practices (also with a child)

i am someone who has had an abortion. i was a freshman in high school. i was taken advantage of by many people back then. i was so dissociated through most of the encounters themselves that i barely remember anything, but i remember how absolutely terrified i was when i saw the ‘positive’ line on the drugstore test i’d gotten from the school health center.

i was 15. i was a 15 year old boy who was trying his best to cope with very severe untreated mental illness and who already didn’t want to be alive. i was a 15 year old child who was pregnant after a sexual encounter that i had at least not given clear-minded consent to, maybe not even given any sort of consent to at all. i didn’t even remember when/how i’d gotten pregnant, exactly, much less who the other party was.

i was so, so, so fucking scared. i don’t even know how to describe it. early high school is very fuzzy for me, but there are so (relatively) many moments in this sequence of events that i remember vividly.

i remember wrapping the test up in almost half a roll of public school toilet paper and almost putting it in the garbage before i changed my mind, not knowing if i’d have to ‘prove’ to someone that i was pregnant.

i remember begging my best friend at the time to skip the rest of the day’s classes with me, which she did so willingly, even though she knew she’d get in trouble. i remember sobbing in terror into her old Slayer hoodie while we just sat in a side hall in the middle of fifth period, and that at one point a hall monitor started to come up to us, but left us alone once she realized how clearly devastated i was.

i remember telling the rest of my scraggly group of suicidal druggie friends, and how they all told me that they were there if i needed anything, but what could they possibly do to even begin to make this better?

i remember calling Planned Parenthood in my best friend’s tiny apartment while her mom was at work, and how her one and a half year old brother was in the room with us and yet had no way of being able to realize the intensity of that situation. i remember that i wouldn’t tell the person on the phone what my name was and that i refused to speak in anything but hypotheticals, even as i was borderline begging her to say that they could help me, that they could get that putrid clump of cells out of me. my best friend had her arm wrapped around my shoulders the whole time.

i remember how gentle the person over the phone was with me. i was trying to sound older than i was, but in hindsight, i’m sure i failed miserably. i’m sure she knew that she was talking to a kid, especially when she asked for information about my insurance or annual household income that i didn’t have the answers for.

i remember how, going into the call, i was 100% resigned and accepted to the idea that i’d have to pretend to be a girl throughout the whole process. i was pre-t, pre-op, still presented pretty femininely because that’s what was the safest and most comforting to me at the time. it was already enough of a hassle trying to have my gender respected in everyday situations, i wasn’t even going to bother trying to say anything about it while trying to access care for a ‘woman’s issue.’ but she went out of her way to ask me about my pronouns and gender identity, and so did every single other Planned Parenthood provider that i worked with during the process.

i remember that i took the metro bus to my appointment while i was supposed to be at school. i had to do it that way because i hadn’t told my parents. almost 5 years later, i still haven’t told my parents that any of this ever happened. the only time i could get out of the house for long enough to go to an appointment without my mom trying to track me down was during the school day. she’d only get the robocall that i’d missed class that evening, long after i was in the clear. i remember hoping with all my chest that she’d take it at face value when i told her that i’d just been skipping with my friends like usual when she asked me why i wasn’t in language arts. she did.

i remember how scared and alone i felt, walking into the Planned Parenthood building all by myself, hunched over myself in my hoodie and trying to drown out my fear with the Fall Out Boy music in my shitty earbuds. i remember how the receptionist smiled so kindly when she saw me, and the reassuring looks on the faces of a couple others in the waiting room as they saw a kid coming in for reproductive care, clearly petrified and with no one to hold his hand.

i remember that the doctor was lovely. she showed me all sorts of 3D models and diagrams of what happens in the body when an early-stage pregnancy is terminated, and told me that there would be no invasive procedure, that she was just going to give me two pills, and that it would be like i was having a bad period, and after that i wouldn’t be pregnant anymore.

i remember that, even though i’d been told over the phone that i would not be expected to pay for the care i received, i was still so worried that i’d misunderstood and that i’d try to leave and they’d hand me a check that i’d have no way of paying off. i remember that i swiped $20 from my mom’s wallet, just in case they asked me for money, even though i logically knew that that probably wouldn’t be nearly enough if i was presented with an actual medical bill. Planned Parenthood never asked me to pay, but it was a good thing that i had the twenty anyway because i had a blood pressure drop right after the appointment and needed to get myself a snack and some water.

i don’t really remember actually taking the pills that vividly, strangely enough. i remember that i did it at a sleepover at my best friend’s house for emotional support, that’s kind of it.

but i remember the euphoric relief i felt when i dared to take another pregnancy test a couple days later, just to make absolutely sure, and it was negative.

i remember my abortion story as being a gentle, loving, caring, respectful salvation that came when i needed it, during the terrifying, horrible, emotionally excruciating experience that was an unwanted pregnancy at age 15. i know how lucky i was to be able to have that experience. i know that so, so many people either cannot access abortion, or cannot access it in a way that was as comforting and affirming as my experience was.

i want as many people as possible to have abortion stories like mine. the US national government is taking steps towards placing barriers between people who need/want abortions and the ability to access them at all, much less in as therapeutic of a way as i was able to.

do what you can. reach out to your local officials. protest. include and uplift the voices of all who are impacted by laws like these, not just cis women.

abortion saves lives.

#i've never ever gone through the whole experience like this before and i am crying like a baby right now #my abortion isnt something that im ashamed of but ive never recounted it like this and i didnt realize how much emotion is still here #please be kind. this took me a long time and a lot of bravery and emotion to type up.#this is okay to reblog if you think it would help someone in any way #my goal in putting my story out there is to hopefully help people see how important abortion is #and what a huge difference accessible and respectful safe abortions can make in someone's life #so maybe someone will care just a little bit more about the issue #make take just one more step to combat the attack on reproductive rights that's happening #i want my story to help people #abortion story #reproductive rights #reproductive justice #reproductive care #trans healthcare #terfs dont touch #terfs dni #radfems dni

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musicofthenightphantomoftheopera · 7 months

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I’m not really excited about my birthday this year…..

Come November 17, 2023, I’ll be 25 years old.

I should be excited. I should be making plans to celebrate. But I’m not. Not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t.

That day will just solidify the fact that Covid took away my entire early 20s. The time when I’m supposed to be going out into the world and “figuring myself out” “meeting new people” “making mistakes”and “growing as a person” according to most movies, tv, and people I’ve met. All of that stolen from me. Gone.

I have Asthma, therefore I am disabled. So I have a lot more at risk than most if I catch it. Since 2020 when the pandemic started, I stopped going out to places as often, I wore a mask at all times to protect myself, and others. I stopped going to anime conventions entirely. I didn’t even have a birthday party that year outside of the one my family had cuz I was that scared. And when the vaccines came out of course I got fully vaccinated as soon as I could, But I still exercised all those other cautions.

I like everyone else thought it would be over in a couple months or at least after the vaccines came out, But it wasn’t. due to the disturbingly widespread acceptance of abelism, eugenics, anti vax misinformation and right wing propaganda brought on by covid and those in power who simply cannot be bothered to care about anyone other than themselves & would gladly laugh & celebrate our deaths should we not survive, I like many other disabled people have been forced to become prisoners in our own houses for the last 4 years.

Nowadays I watch through my phone as people and friends alike go to anime conventions, Rennaisance fairs, and other fun life events with absolutely ZERO covid precaution to keep themselves & other safe even though the virus continues to kill ppl by the millions and act as if nothing is wrong.

I see them there and wish I could be there too having a good time and living my life. But I can’t.

(And don’t bother coming at me with the whole “you can’t expect us to mask forever, it’s restricting!” First of all of you don’t wanna end up like me or worse you kind of have to and second of all. It is a goddam peice of fabric over your face. I am asthmatic and I can breathe in not one but TWO masks perfectly fine. So can you ya goddam crybaby. Get it together. )

I know if I go if catch it and run the risk of becoming more disabled than I already am. All the conventions I wanted to go to, the Rennaisance fairs I could’ve attended. All the plans I had for my future were ripped away from me. But not a lot seem to care.

Because the universal truth about ppl in America is that not a lot of people give a fuck about disabled people. Most of them see us as less than human and actively want us to die. Even if it’s their own family members or friends. Anyone the claim to care about. No one is safe.

You have no idea how many horror stories I have of people saying “it’s only killing the elderly and the disabled, so who cares?!” Not only is that ungodly vile but also wholly untrue. It’s killing & disabling ppl my age and also children. But again. Not enough care.

I used to be so excited about seeing what the world had in store for me in the future. But now I don’t think I have one anymore. And how can I be excited to experience a world with so much ugliness that I’m pretty much risking my life every time I leave the house nowadays?

If the plague doesn’t get me there’s the risk of a wacko that just so happens to have a gun deciding to shoot up a place because of their inhumane ideology or they were “having a bad day” or run the risk of a man literally doing one of the worst possible things you can do to another human and knowing that because of the state I live in, I will be penalized or even imprisoned for not wanting a rapists baby.

It makes me never want to leave the house again even though I desperately want to. And want to be part of the world again. But I can’t. Because even if I do nothing at all, I’ll be punished. But I don’t really know what I can do or if there’s anything I can do to fight back besides voting. I have no political power. I have almost no money no matter how hard I try to work for some, And no resources. I also recently moved to a very rural area. I have no friends that live near me nor do I know or know if I can trust anyone here, therefor Di have no community to rely on. Besides my family I’m basically completely isolated. And it feels like my granny and I are the only sane ones left in my family because my mom and stepdad refuse to wear masks. My mom got the vaccine but refuses to mask.

I can’t leave because 1 I’m broke, 2 I’m also autistic which actually bans me from gaining citizenship/a visa in certain countries, and 3, this fascist ideology is spreading and abelism and covid are still pretty much everywhere. There is no true escape.

I can’t even get any therapy for what I’ve been through due to the US Healthcare system being a sick joke and I can’t afford it and of course the risk of having an ableist therapist or one who has zero experience with autistic ppl or one that’s just there to collect a paycheck.

What am I supposed to do? Why do I even bother trying anymore? What’s the point of living if I’m just living in a constant state of fear, anxiety, anger and hopelessness and misery? I can’t get excited about Halloween, Christmas, or even my own birthday anymore because I’m so emotionally exhausted and I feel so hopeless. And don’t even get me started on climate change anxiety.

There’s not really a point to this. I just needed to vent and wanted to share my experience.

#I feel hopeless #hopeless #personal vent #vent post #disabled #i hate it here #just why #i feel alone #mental health #trauma #abelism #i don’t want to feel like this anymore #i don’t want to die #i’m tired #isolated

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whitepassingpocs · 1 year

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I dont like to say it because some white people might be weird about it but...

(Happy vent? Happy rant? Infodump? Idk if this is accepted here cause its not really a question just me being happy and proud but ye!)

I was raised white american with some dutch and polish influence because that was the closest my family had to their cultures on my mom's side with my dad's side being an enigma due to family dieing while my parents generation was quite young and disconnecting and a butt load of trauma. That and some light sprinkles from my half brothers(my dads son, we dont share a mom) italian side and the whispers of scotch-irish my great grandpa gave us.

As a kid, ive always felt a connection to native american culture. I really loved movies about it and it felt right. Ive always had a sort of connection to nature with impecible intuition. Ive felt watched over and protected by natural spirits that i couldnt see and felt a deep and on going connection to the earth. I could see spirits and creatures no one else could and picked up things others didnt. I felt ig... "Awake" to nature and the spirit world.

I substituted myself with wiccanism and paganism because it felt the most right at the time and did my best to keep it white/celtic/polish as to not appropriate other cultures. I was like this from basically 12 to 19. I came out as bi around 13 and trans/nonbinary around 16.

Finally, when i was 19, my mom bothered to mention that my great grandpa on her mom's side was an inuit man(some form of first Nations Canadian) and my great grandma on her dad's side was cherokee. Suddenly i had all these native american heritages that made so much more sense, especially concerning our more native features.

The more i read up on my native cultures and two-spiritism, everything in my life started to make more sense. My gender finally felt right, my orientation, my masculinity, my affinity towards nature and natural sources. The fact that two spirits, in many tribes, are considered closer to the great spirit and a blessing unto the tribe and the family( when i was made to feel unwanted and burdenous to my family due to disability and mental illness). It showed me that even if white society never understood me, i would of been and am loved and respected by my native communities and sometimes i cant help but cry when i think about it.

Being native is hard and every new tragedy being unearthed makes it even harder. Thanksgiving is becoming unbearable by the year but honestly, reconnecting and acknowledging this part of me i subconsciously knew was there and finally learning about my native ancestors has given me so much healing and pride. Ik pple tend to dislike the combinations of what white pple call "horoscope gemstone instagram magic stupidity" aka natural religious practices and non-white community but knowing all this time that even if i cant prove it, what i see and feel is real and that my spirituality, gender, orientation and race are combined in just the label two spirit is what makes me... Well me just brings me so much happiness. It fits like a glove.

Ik that just because you feel a connection to a culture throughout your life dosent mean you are that culture obviously but to me... Idk. Not to get spiritual but it feels like some source of power, be it ancestors or whatever, was always pushing me to investigate and now everything suddenly feels so right. The final puzzle piece of my nativeness was placed and it makes me feel so complete 💚💚💚

thank you for sharing your beautiful story 💕

#native #first nations #indigenous #two spirit

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klysanderelias · 2 years

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I mean to be fair historically a lot of political and social change did in fact work off the fact that the established power base would rather accept reforms rather than capitulate to extremist demands so technically, if you want to change things reliably, there's actually a lot of precedent for having an extremist wing cooperating with a more moderate political structure to drive positive change.

The problem is that 'left disunity' is often (from what I've seen, at least) a code for 'we have failed fundamentally to address the concerns of a group of people who see us as a threat because they don't fit in our worldview.' I've seen a lot of complaints about anarchists that rightfully ask questions like 'if I am disabled or chronically ill, what happens to me in your ideal world?' and the answers are lacking or disturbing - like yeah, a lot of anarchist thinkers have tackled this and much like 'what does a world look like without cops' there's a lot of very good answers, that work has been done, but often not by the people who are arguing methods. If I'm being asked to support a political organization that has no understanding of my needs, it's kind of on that organization to do that work to bring me in instead of expecting me to just blindly hope that when/if they start to make progress, they'll remember that I exist.

But also, as an anarchist, I also know that the state apparatus inherently requires violence to function and even as a 'fellow leftist' I am just as likely to have that violence deployed against me if I dissent, and again, if my needs aren't being represented by the state, do I become disposable in your political structure?

The problem is that 'real friends' and 'real enemies' is a very nebulous distinction when we realize that a lot of the left is made up of marginalized people and just because we've all been marginalized in some way doesn't mean we don't have biases or outright disgust when it comes to other groups. And a lot of this drives political action in a way that we often don't think about. I remember during the 2020 primaries seeing an article about the way that Biden started to overtake the polls, and there's a lot of discussion we could have about that topic but the argument this article made was that older black folks especially were voting for Biden because they simply did not trust white people to do the right thing. That Biden was the 'safe' option because they thought (and maybe correctly) that if it came down to it, white people would vote for a fascist who wouldn't raise taxes than for a progressive who would, regardless of ideology.

And those people aren't the 'enemy', they're people who genuinely do not believe that the high minded leftists would follow through because they've been burned so many times. And like, yeah, there are a lot of organizations that come to mind who, when push came to shove, I would bet money would happily throw me or other marginalized groups into the fire to consolidate power. I'm not partnering with the KS Red Guard, y'know? Regardless of what they claim, I don't trust those mother fuckers an inch.

And arguably the original post is right by saying 'we need to discuss those lines and hammer out unity instead of sniping at each other' but I think the topic of 'left unity' often hides that there's some fucked up assholes out there who are mad that people are against supporting revolution because yes people will die but nothing will change without violence and it's better than the sustained violence it takes to maintain the status quo etc etc but it's very clear that their acceptable casualties include like, all disabled people.

I'm kind of just rambling but over the years, watching some of this discourse go back and forth, a lot of the 'lack of unity' arguments really fail to understand that the right is united partially because they can all agree that SOMEONE should die or be marginalized as an intended outcome, and often marginalized people within that ideology either think that they'll get a pass for being 'one of the good ones' or accept that marginalization because yeah, women should stay in the kitchen and serve their husbands, like God intended me to do.

And that is inherently rejected by leftist ideology, even if not by individual leftist groups, so I'm ideologically opposed to an organization that wants LGBTQ+ rights at the cost of indigenous people, or whatever the flavor of asshole is, and asking me to support them because 'we both want the same thing' just isn't true.

#i screenshotted the original post to avoid getting dragged into the discourse too much #sometimes you got dumb thoughts aboit the fistfight you're watching #but don't want to wade in yourself #anyway I'm not saying i have perfect ideology #i rad that quote from the jakarta method and it fundamentally changed me #but also i follow a lot of black anarchists

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theexperienceofaging · 3 months

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A WAY OF ENDING

Familiarity can be comforting and also imprisoning. During the three years of Covid isolation I had become used to mostly staying in my familiar home, my familiar living room, my familiar porch. Coming to a Continuing Care Community at age 88 upended all that. Now I was in a new space, much less space, new people—all old and lots of them—new routines. At first I felt quite lost. Where now was my “home?” I grieved my old life as thin as it had become in those three years and my beloved home with its view of an Audubon preserve. Would there ever be a home again? When I saw friends from the “outside”, I was so grateful for their familiarity. We knew each other. I knew what we loved to talk about, I knew what we found funny, I knew what activities we enjoyed together and most importantly, I knew they cared about me and I cared about them.

Here I walked down long halls, took elevators. Many people smiled and said hello and introduced themselves but I didn’t know any of them. The Staff were wonderful. Your light is broken? Someone comes and fixes it. You’ve lost weight and your pants need to be taken in? There’s a seamstress who comes every two weeks. And I didn’t have to cook, except for breakfast. I haven’t had that level of caretaking since my mother changed my diapers and put a bottle in my mouth when I cried. I appreciated all this but a deeper level of acceptance and knowing were still absent. It wasn’t “home.” This was the beginning of a kind of transition I had never experienced before. A few months passed. I was observing and learning about this new land and culture I had landed in. In looking back, I realized that after the years of Covid let up, I had little energy to create a new life and the comforting familiarity had become turgid and stagnant. But here, I simply have to walk down the hall and take an elevator to have a new life. There is a choice of activities. The poetry and writing class stir me to to think newer thoughts. The art class starts me on a new skill. Talking to so many new people is stimulating and exhausting. The game of “getting to know you” is often repetitive and superficial. Where did you come from? What did you do? Some political talk since the majority of residents are liberal and we sing in the same choir. Bad days consist of talk about the quality of the food, the usual weather comments, how the place used to be and other subjects of little interest. Good days -a lot of friendliness and feeling a part of a yet unknown community and beginning to feel sparks of connection. It begins to feel like a small town or village where spoken or unspoken there is the deeper knowledge that this is the final chapter. Physical disabilities are talked about in an open and accepting way; everyone has something wrong with them. “What did you say?” is the mantra. We are all in the anteroom of death and friendships literally die. There is some acknowledgment of this; it’s not deeply engaged but it is a constant silent knowing.

I begin to have a sense of who I connect more easily with, offering the possibility of a deeper friendship. And who I enjoy in limited but pleasurable ways and who I avoid. I realize how deeply I have wanted community. This might not be the utopia I would have wanted but I feel grateful that I have the means to be taken care of in a place that strives to make these last years safer, easier, stimulating. Isolation is the new plague and I have been granted the embrace of a community with all its gifts and flaws to continue my life, pursue meaning and pleasure and be surprised by what can arise from one day to the next. I am feeling that I have a place here; I am part of the community and that steadies me. Life now offers possibility. I had forgotten there was possibilty. It could be the end any day or any month or year but as long as it isn’t there’s more life to be lived.

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thesickpanda · 2 years

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It Doesn’t Rain, it Pours

So since Covid began, I have been socially distancing and largely isolating at home (apart from seeing my in-laws, who too are isolating due to cancer, I have gone into *one* indoor shop in the past 6 months and a few doctor’s practices, and *that’s it*). As someone with multiple chronic illnesses and gut dysbiosis, my immune system cannot take another hit, so Covid is terrifying to me.

Because the world has grown impatient and given up fighting this pandemic, and restrictions have eased everywhere, including in Australia, I am even more isolated than before, as no one is wearing masks or taking precautions. As a result, Covid infections in this country are speculated to kill between 10,000 and 15,000 people this year - most of them people like me. I am beyond livid at the ableism and cruelty the disabled/chronically ill community has had to endure in recent years (on top of the already awful “regular ableism” of society). Many immuno-compromised people have been living in a kind of apartheid where the healthy, able bodied get to live their lives as normal whereas we have to continue sheltering in place because no one cares if we die. (We have been deemed the acceptable sacrifice for the freedoms of the ableds, apparently.)

ANYWAY. The only saving grace for me is that I can still go for nature walks relatively safely. I love nature walks. My main passion is plants and insects and this hobby is a Covid-safe thing to do, which in all honesty is the only thing keeping me going in these lonely, bleak times. Except….. We have had not one, but TWO friggin’ La Niña events in a row, making for totally awful summers with extreme, flooding rains, and wetter than average conditions for 2 solid years. I am losing the will to live trapped in my house. I am unable to go places or be a human in the world because of the pandemic (and now the flu, which is truly horrendous this year, as well as the looming threat of Monkey Pox...which of course the world is just waiting to become an unstoppable pandemic before they act....) and also unable to go outside due to inclement conditions.

So this news right here? NOT FUCKING WELCOME.

‘Triple La Niña’: Australia may face another summer of flooding rains, US expert warns. Scientists are watching an area in Pacific Ocean that has been unusually cool – a signal current La Niña could linger...”

Link: https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2022/jun/10/triple-la-nina-australia-may-face-another-summer-of-flooding-rains-us-expert-warns

I know it is petty given the Large Scale Crises affecting people the world over, but for those of us who have had to remain stuck inside their homes for YEARS with no end in sight, who can go literally nowhere because of a combo of disease, ableism and constant rain, this is unbearable. Another year?! Another lost summer where I can barely go outside? I am about ready to implode. I don’t think my sanity will last another year!

[Also, following all this rain, the fuel load of our forests will be outrageous, so the first dry summer we get will be one of FLAMES. YAY.]

And my U.S. friend of 20 years is coming to visit me for the first time this August. Australia, you BETTER NOT BE WET when she is here as all our planned events are outdoors. I can only hope that our 5 day trip to an area halfway to the outback is at least dry, but current models predict rain in the deserts, too.

It’s true what they say; it doesn’t rain, it bloody well pours…

#la niña #COVID19 #ableism #australia #losing my mind

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tarobytez · 3 years

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disability in the Six Of Crows Duology; an analysis of Kaz Brekker, Wylan Van Eck, and the fandom’s treatment of them.

****Note: I originally wrote this for a tiktok series, which im still going to do, but i wanted to post here as well bc tumblr is major contributor to what im going to talk about

CW: ableism, filicide, abuse

In the Six of Crows duology, Leigh Bardugo delicately subverts and melds harmful disability tropes into her narrative, unpacking them in a way that I, as a disabled person, found immensely refreshing and…. just brilliant.

But what did you all do with that? Well, you fucked it up. Instead of critically looking at the characters, y’all just chose to be ableist.

For the next few videos paragraphs im going to unpack disability theory (largely the stuff surrounding media, for obvious reasons) and how it relates to Six Of Crows and the characterization of Kaz Brekker and Wylan Van Eck, then how, despite their brilliant writing, y’all completely overlooked the actual text and continuously revert them to ableist cariactures.

Disclaimer: 1. Shocker - i am disabled. I have also extensively researched disability theory and am very active in the disabled community. Basically, I know my shit. 2. im going to be mad in these videos this analysis. Because the way y’all have been acting has been going on for a long ass time and im fuckin sick of it. I don’t give a shit about non-disabled feelings, die mad

Firstly, I’m going to discuss Kaz, his play on the stereotypical “mean cripple” trope and how Bardugo subverts it, his cane, and disabled rage. Then, I am going to discuss Wylan, the “inspiration porn” stereotype, caregivers / parents, and the social model of disability. Finally, I will then explain the problems in the fandom from my perspective as a disabled person, largely when it comes to wylan, bc yall cant leave that boy tf alone.

Kaz Brekker

Think of a character who uses a cane (obviously not Kaz). Now, are they evil, dubiously moral, or just an asshole in general? Because nearly example I can think of is: whether it be Lots’O from Toy Story, Lucius Malfoy, or even Scrooge and Mr.Gold from Once Upon A Time all have canes (the last two even having their canes appear less and less as they become better people)

The mean/evil cripple trope is far more common than you would think. Villains with different bodies are confined to the role of “evil”. To quote TV Tropes, who I think did a brilliant job on explaining it “The first is rooted in eugenics-based ideas linking disability or other physical deformities with a "natural" predisposition towards madness, criminality, vice, etc. The Rule of Symbolism is often at work here, since a "crippled" body can be used to represent a "crippled" soul — and indeed, a disabled villain is usually put in contrast to a morally upright and physically "perfect" hero. Whether consciously on the part of the writer or not, this can reinforce cultural ideas of disability making a person inherently inferior or negative, much in the same way the Sissy Villain or Depraved Homosexual trope associate sexual and gender nonconformity with evil. ”

Our introduction to Kaz affirms this notion of him being bad or morally bankrupt, with “Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason”, etc. This mythologized version of himself, the “bastard of the barrel” actively fed into this misconception. But, as we the audience are privy to his inner thoughts, know that he is just a teenager like every other Crow. He is complex, his disability isn’t this tragic backstory, he just fell off a roof. It’s not his main motivation, nor does he curse revenge for making him a cripple - it is just another part of who he is.

His cane (though the shows version fills me with rage but-) is an extension of Kaz - he fights with it, but it has a purpose. Another common thing in media is for canes to be simply accessories, but while Kaz’ cane is fashionable, it has purpose.

The quote “There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.” is so fucking powerful. Kaz does not want nor need a cure - its said in Crooked Kingdom that his leg could most likely be healed, but he chooses not to. Abled-bodied people tend to dismiss this thought as Kaz being stubborn but it shows a reality of acceptance of his disability that is just, so refreshing.

In chapter 22 of SOC, we see disabled rage done right - when he is called a cripple by the Fjerdan inmate, Kaz is pissed - the important detail being that he is pissed at the Fjerdan, at society for ableism, not blaming it on being disabled or wishing he could be normal. He takes action, dislocating the asshole’s shoulder and proving to him, and to a lesser extent, himself, that he is just as capable as anyone else, not in spite of, but because he is disabled. And that is the point of Kaz, harking back to the line that “there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken”.

I cried on numerous occasions while reading the SOC duology, but the parts I highlighted in this section especially so. I, as many other disabled people do, have had a long and tumultuous relationship with our disability/es, and for many still struggle. But Kaz Brekker gave me an empowered disabled character who accepts themselves, and that means the world to me.

Keeping that in mind, I hope you can understand why it hurts so much to disabled people when you either erase Kaz’s disability (whether through cosplay or fanfiction), or portray him as a “broken boy uwu”, especially implying that he would want a cure. That flies in the face of canon and is inherently fucking ableist. (if u think im mad wait until the next section)

Next, we have Wylan.

Oh fucking boy.

I love Wylan so fucking much, and y’all just do not seem to understand his character? Like at all? Since this is disability-centric, I’m not going to discuss how the intersection of his queerness also contributes to these issues, but trust me when I say it’s a contributing factor to what i'm going to say.

Wylan, motherfucking Van Eck. If you ableist pricks don’t take ur fucking hands off him right now im going to fight you. I see Wylan as a subversion another, and in my opinion more insidious stereotype pf disabled people - inspiration porn.

Cara Liebowitz in a 2015 article on the blog The Body Is Not An Apology explains in greater detail how inspiration porn is impactful in real life, but media is a major contributing factor to this reality. The technical definition is “the portrayal of people with disabilities as inspirational solely or in part on the basis of their disability” - but that does not cover it fully.

Inspiration porn does lasting damage on the disabled community as it implies that disability is a negative that you need to “overcome” or “triumph” instead of something one can feel proud of. It exploits disabled people for the development of non-disabled people, and in media often the white male protagonist. Framing disability as inherently negative perpetuates ideals of eugenics and cures - see Autism $peaks’ “I Am Autism” ad. Inspiration porn is also incredibly patronizing as it implies that we cannot take care of ourselves, or do things like non-disabled people do. Because i stg some of you tend to think that we just sit around all day wishing we weren’t disabled.

Another important theory ideal that is necessary when thinking about Wylan is the experience of feeling like a burden simply for needing help or accommodations. This is especially true when it comes to familial relationships, and internalized ableism.

The rhetoric that Wylan’s father drilled into his head, that he is “defective”, “a mistake”, and “needs to be corrected”, that he (Jan) was “cursed with a moron for a child” is a long held belief that disabled people hear relentlessly. And while many see Van Eck’s attempted murder of Wylan as “preposturous” and overall something that you would never think happens today - filicide (a parent murdering their child) is more common than you would like to believe. Without even mentioning the countless and often unreported deaths of disabled people due to lack of / insufficient / neglectful medical care, in a study on children who died from the result of household abuse, 40 of 42 of them (95%) were diagnosed with disabilities. Van Eck is not some caricature of ableist ideals - he is a real reflection on how many people and family members view disability.

Circling back to how Wylan unpacks the inspiration porn trope - he is 3 dimensional, he is not only used to develop the other characters, he is just *chefs kiss* Leigh, imo, put so much love and care into the creation of Wylan and his story and character growth that is representative of a larger feeling in the disabled community.

That being said, what you non-disabled motherfuckers have done to him.

The “haha Wylan can’t read” jokes aren’t and were not funny. Y’all literally boiled down everything Wylan is to him being dyslexic. And it’s like,,,, the only thing you can say about him. You ignore every other part of him other than his disability, and then mock him for it. There’s so much you can say about Wylan - simping for Jesper, being band kid and playing the fuckin flute, literally anything else. But no, you just chose to mock his disability, excellent fucking job!

Next up on “ableds stfu” - infantilization! y’all are so fucking condescending to Wylan, and treat him like a fucking toddler. And while partly it is due to his sexuality i think a larger portion is him being disabled. Its in the same vein of people who think that Wylan and Jesper are romantically one sided, and that Jesper only kind of liked Wylan, despite the canon evidence of him loving Wylan just as much. You all view him as a “smol bean”, who needs protecting, and care, when Wylan is the opposite of that. He is a fucking demolitions expert who suggested waking up sleeping men to kill them - what about that says “uwu”. You are treating Wylan as a burden to Jesper and the other Crows when he is an immensely valuable, fully autonomous disabled person - you all just view him as damaged.

And before I get a comment saying that “uhhh Wylan isn’t real why do you care” while Wylan may not be real, how you all view him and treat him has real fucking impacts and informs how you treat people like me. If someone called me an “uwu baby boy” they’d get a fist square in the fucking jaw. Fiction informs how we perceive the world and y’all are making it super fucking clear how you see disabled people.

Finally, I wanted to talk about how the social model of disability is portrayed through Wylan. For those who are unaware, the social model of disability contrasts the medical model, that views the disability itself as the problem, that needs to be cured, whereas the social model essentially boils down to creating an accommodating society, where disability acceptance and pride is the goal. And we see this with Wylan - he is able to manage his father’s estate, with Jesper’s assistance to help him read documents. And this is not out of pity or charity, but an act of love. It is not portrayed as this almighty act for Jesper to play saviour, just a given, which is incredibly important to show, especially for someone who has been abused by family for his disability like Wylan, that he is accepted.

Yet, I still see people hold up Jesper on a pedestal for “putting up with” Wylan, as if loving a disabled person deserves a fucking pat on the back. It’s genuinely exhausting trying to engage with a work I love so much with a fandom that thinks so little of me and my community. It fucking shows.

Overall, Leigh Bardugo as a disabled person wrote two incredibly meticulous and empowered disabled characters, and due to either lack of reading comprehension, ableism, or a quirky mix of both, the fandom has ignored canon and the experiences of disabled people for…. shits and giggles i guess. And yes, there are issues with the Grishaverse and disability representation - while I haven’t finished them yet so I do not have an opinion on it, people have been discussing issues in the KOS duology with ableist ideals. This mini series was no way indicative of the entire disabled experience, nor does it represent my entire view on the representation as a whole. These things need to be met critically in our community, and talked about with disabled voices at the forefront. For example, the limited perspective we get of Wylan and Kaz being both white men, does not account for a large portion of the disabled community and the intersection of multiple identities.

All-in-all, Critique media, but do not forget to also critique fandom spaces. Alternatively, just shut the fuck up :)

happy fucking disability pride month, ig

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pocketsizedquasar · 3 years

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(this is long, sorry, I just don't have anyone else to rant to abt this lmao)

Ok I wanna start off by saying I'm white, so when discussing the portrayal of Jon as a POC I may make mistakes, and I'm sorry for if/when I do; please correct me. BUT I have been thinking a LOT about this lately and I gotta get it off my chest

A lot of the whole "portraying the TMA characters as queer POC" thing reminds me of that article/thread about how diversifying the cast isn't the same as actual diversity.

Black people's experiences, NB POC, and queer people's experiences are going to have notable differences from those of cishet white people. So writing a character as a cis or white or straight person and then just...making them a poc/queer person doesn't always work. Especially with things like TMA, because the whole point of the podcast is that it's based in enough reality that it could be portrayed as "real" or "possible"; the characters are portrayed as if they are real people, even sharing names with the actors who play them.

A white actor's experience is not going to portray all the same things as a black person's....a cis person's experience is not going to portray the same things as a trans person's. If a trans poc wants to headcanon Jon as a trans poc and it brings them happiness, that's fine!

But so often I see non-trans, non-queer, and/or non-poc portraying him as a black trans man without any real regard for what that means outside of "I drew a white guy but made his skin dark and gave him aesthetically pleasing top surgery scars".

Idk man. A while ago I was in a different fandom where for some reason abled people wanted to portray a notable character as physically disabled/ as a cane and wheelchair user. On the surface there was nothing wrong with it and you could have even called it "diversity", but as a physically disabled person who has used both a cane and a wheelchair, it really rubbed me the wrong way; I didn't feel represented and if anything it made me feel even more alienated from the fandom. I'm getting similar vibes from a lot of these cis and/or white ppl who headcanon the TMA characters as trans people and as POC. It's like you and others have said, it feels more fetishy than inclusive.

No need to apologize!

And YES. YES. "diversifying the cast isn't the same as actual diversity." This EXACTLY. This is how we get stuff like Hamilton and Shera other pieces of media, where Black and brown people are added onto stories to create an outward appearance of diversity, but the story itself is still deeply a white one, and in some cases the addition of POC in these stories actually obfuscates the existing racial dynamics!! (also looking at you moby dick musical). I feel like a bunch of white creators saw "we need diverse stories" and took that as their prerogative to start just unthinkingly adding POC to their narratives, when the call for diverse stories was never about them in the first place, but about POC being able to tell our OWN stories. A ~diverse~ cast means nothing if your writers' room is majority white, and means nothing if your story does nothing to meaningfully engage with the diversity it's using for its aesthetic.

With stuff like TMA, where a lot of the MCs are written as aracial (re: white), this is how you get like. Typical fanon-accepted versions of characters of color (as well as fanon-accepted versions for who doesn't get to be a POC: see martin almost universally being portrayed as a white man) on a surface level without anyone actually bothering to dissect what that would mean for the story. TMA already so deeply deals with privilege, capitalism, agency, and power, all of which are themes that inherently change if you make the protagonist a man of color.

If Jon is brown or Black then suddenly his interactions with the police and the fact that he is a victim of police brutality become very different. If Jon is a MOC then the abuse he faces at the hands of Elias, his wealthy white boss -- the abuse and manipulation that really is in many ways the driving force of the plot -- becomes very different. If Jon is a MOC then his bitter acceptance of his privileged and oppressive role in the apocalypse is VERY very different!! S5 especially is a narrative about privilege and power and what we do with it; Jon being a MOC in that narrative changes the entire character of the final season just as Jon being a white man in that narrative would drastically change the reception of it. How much would white ppl be willing to engage with this story if they viewed Jon as white -- as a white man choosing who to let suffer and who to let Gain power, as a white person claiming that he can be the arbiter of "fair" judgment on who deserves to live and who deserves to suffer and die? Would white ppl be able to actually engage with that, that dissection of whiteness? I really don't think so. I think Jon being a MOC enables a lot of white fans to distance themselves from the problems TMA -- in many cases successfully and many cases not so much -- tries to raise. I think white ppl making Jon a MOC often feel it exempts them from examining their own racial biases, both towards Jon and other characters, but also the very privileged biases that TMA itself addresses (and in some cases, the racial problems that TMA actually contains)

All this to say, headcanons do not exist in a vacuum. Projecting onto characters is all fine and good (hell knows that's literally how I write Jon -- projecting all my mishmashed identities onto him) -- but some careful thought into how we are portraying characters beyond "this is the typical fandom interpretation of him" or "I like how this looks" is...really necessary imo, especially when it comes to identities that you're not yourself a part of (this is general "you," not directed at u the asker specifically). There comes a point where your headcanon either is detracting from the text itself or complicating/changing it in a way that needs to be addressed; otherwise you're likely to end up lookin like a Fool TM /lh

#tma #tma crit #the magnus archives #the magnus archives crit #jon sims #jonathan sims #racism #cw racism #fandom crit #fandom critical #fandom racism #quasartalks #long post #cw police brutality ment #police brutality ment #ask #friendlyneighbourhoodpapergay

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mettywiththenotes · 3 years

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Izuku’s Emotional Neglect

Hi so I’m not okay because I keep thinking about Izuku

This kid has been emotionally neglected since he was little. Izuku has had NOBODY to rely on emotionally

He didn’t have Inko, or his classmates, or All Might. Actually, All Might is borderline the only one he’s confided in [since they talk briefly about their connection of being quirkless], but he still holds back

Inko is trying her best and no parent is perfect, I see that, but what she said to Izuku that fateful night damaged that boy and the way he saw himself.

He asks her if he can be a hero, and she cries and says she’s sorry. Not only does this imply that Izuku’s quirklessness is bad, it also implies that she was lying.

And by the way, I don’t mean that Inko ACTUALLY lied that Izuku could be a hero, nor do I think that she meant to mean his quirklessness was bad.

But I need, NEED, to stress that this is how Izuku sees it. This is how he would perceive it, subconciously.

If you’re a child and you think that you can be a hero, your parent encourages it because it makes you happy. But then suddenly you can’t be a hero, and you ask them one more time if it’s possible, hoping that those little wishes you made weren’t fruitless, that maybe somehow this is some kind of dream and she’ll wake you up from it with her smile and her warmth, promising that even with this newfound “disability” you can still be a hero, but instead she cries and apologises to you? That’s going to make you think. It’s going to make you think “Was she lying? if she truly believed in me, why would she cry and say she’s sorry? why isn’t she encouraging me, like she always does? what is happening?”

It’s not the truth, and Inko DIDN’T lie, but subconsciously I feel like it’s something that betrayed Izuku a great deal.

And with the quirklessness. He hates it, he hates feeling useless, and he saw himself as useless when he was quirkless, therefore -> quirkless is something weak and awful.

Time and time again, we see this evidence of the emotional neglect he was subjected to. It’s like actively ongoing and the effects of it are seen even now

We’ll start with the Inko one. I just mentioned it, but here are the panels. It’s really just the language that she uses

“You mean there’s something wrong?”

Apologizing over and over again, like not being normal was a bad thing. Moreso, I think this just meant that she knew how hard Izuku’s life was going to be as a quirkless person, but the way she says it makes it sound like what happened to Izuku was wrong and bad and incredibly awful

Then we have All Might disregarding his feelings and telling him straight up that he couldn’t be a hero

Which then leads to this commentary

“Don’t cry! Let it sink in!!” “Just block it out, just block it all out, just-”

*pats Izuku on head* You Can Fit So Much Denial And Repression Into This Kid!

Then further along, Izuku is seen, and he gets the quirk. He is then surrounded by people that love him, that want to help him, but it’s almost like even the narrative won’t let him have emotional closure.

In most emotional closure scenes (Tsuyu crying, Kirishima vs Rappa, Iieda in the hospital with Shouto and Izuku, Kacchan vs Deku 2), there is an end to it. The character is emotional, crying or upset, and thinking back on their regrets, spilling their guts as they scream, sob, or give solemn expressions. The other characters then cheer/hype them up, reaching some sort of conclusion to the character’s pain, and the situation is more or less resolved.

But that’s not the case with Izuku. He’s always left sorta hanging there, or his hurt and anger get sidetracked by something else. One example of this is the Running With All Might scene in the UA grounds

Izuku is incredibly upset that All Might chose to withhold information on Sir Nighteye and Mirio, and he speaks about how he can’t make sense of it. He’s voicing all his worries to All Might as they run, because he can’t stand the thought of All Might keeping something like this a secret from him.

And then All Might tells him why he kept it a secret, that he didn’t feel it was necessary to let Izuku know about Nighteye’s bias, and then it divulges into him telling Izuku he’s gonna die, and Izuku focuses on that instead.

I am NOT saying that All Might did this purposefully. He didn’t try and steer Izuku’s anger away from him, it was just that it all got revealed so suddenly, so the subject changed.

The narrative tosses Izuku’s feelings of anger aside, and instead Izuku gets emotional over All Might’s potential death. Idk man, to go from angry and upset about withheld information and then immediately shoved into the knowledge that your mentor-father figure is gonna die? That’s the narrative playing with Izuku’s feelings.

Obviously, All Might’s communication skills are awful and he just kinda unloaded all this stuff on Izuku cuz he didn’t think to tell him in the first place, but I still think Izuku’s feelings got pushed around here. He had no time to process any of it

Another example is the cafeteria scene with Shouto and Iieda

The scene goes that Izuku is visibly depressed by the Eri situation and Iieda and Shouto notice. They tell him that he can talk to them when everything gets too much [a parallel to the Stain fight], and Izuku cries. Izuku insists he shouldn’t cry, and Shouto tells him that, actually, Heroes cry too sometimes, and they offer him their food in an attempt to comfort him.

But the thing is, this scene doesn’t offer closure. Closure would be Izuku seeing that he could rely on his friends and telling them how he feels [he wouldn’t have to necessarily tell them about Eri - maybe just phrase it in another way that doesn’t reveal the mission]. Closure would be Izuku accepting that Heroes can cry too, and admitting he’s not okay. Instead, we have this

The scene feels... incomplete? Like there’s no knot at the end of the rope. Izuku is being comforted, but he’s not acknowledging his own feelings of sadness.

In fact, he’s shoveling food into his mouth to stop himself from crying, to shut himself up, to try and move forward and get past his little outburst.

I would go as far as to say this is self hatred eating, trying to quell that vulnerable part inside

I wouldn’t say Izuku HATES himself now. Rather, he just makes connections to his past quirkless self in his mind. It’s the negative emotion connection

Feeling weak? Well, you’re still like your quirkless self before! You’re still not good enough and useless!

Not strong enough? Sounds like back when you were quirkless! All weak and helpless! You can’t help anyone, which is why you need to get stronger, so you can move on from your past self!

Crying? Just like when you were quirkless! You always cried back then, like a helpless kid! You can’t be like that anymore, since you are now All Might’s Successor and A Hero, so stop crying! You’re not allowed to cry anymore!

Do you see what I’m getting at here? Izuku continuously represses these emotions as he gets stronger because he connects them to when he was quirkless. If you associate certain behaviors and emotions with how you were during a vulnerable and traumatic time in your life, you’re going to want to shove those emotions down so you don’t repeat what happened back then [in this case, Izuku sees himself being vulnerable as weak, and he saw himself as weak when he was quirkless, so he’s trying not to be vulnerable anymore].

And the scary thing is, now, we can even see the hatred in real time. I’m sure there are other examples in the manga, but one scene is very prominent in my mind, and it’s this one

Izuku is so incredibly strong now, he has saved many people, but he still can’t view himself as anything other than “useless” or “helpless” unless he powers through death itself just to break himself more. He almost feels like he HAS to do that in order to be seen as worthy, for himself and others. When he’s struggling, bleeding and heavily injured, he yells at himself as if it’s all his fault.

It’s not about whether he’s aware he’s actively dying or not. To him, being worthless and useless is infinitely worse than dying.

Actually, the way Izuku practically yells at himself in this panel reminds me of when he was walking home in chapter 1 after his chat with All Might [shown above when talking about All Might’s impact]

There are two translated versions of this actually that ring alarm bells in my head. There is the panel already pictured above, but I chose this panel too because I simply think it hits harder

“Don’t cry! You knew already, right?! This is reality...”

In either translation, he’s chiding himself. For crying. For being emotional.

And once again, I totally think this stems from emotional neglect. Trying not to get too personal here, but I know what this feels like, and I know the effect it has had on me. I can’t be vulnerable or spill my feelings in front of people, it just feels illegal or smthg. Like it shouldn’t be done. And like... if you’re taught from an early age that, one way or another, your feelings don’t matter and that nobody is going to pay attention to you, why try, right?

Then you just begin to Not Feel Properly, and you become incapable of expressing your feelings in a healthy manner

Current examples of this?

Izuku literally not giving himself time to process anything, like worry, grief, sadness. If anything, the only emotion he gives time for is anger. And he specifically directs it at All For One, cause that’s his target. [we saw little bits of this in War Arc but it also applies to the current arc]

He can’t cry. He feels emotional, sure. But he never lets his tears shed.

And one last bit of evidence

I’d say most if not all of these sound about right

In conclusion I wanna hug Izuku

#istg i really don't mean to make long posts #i just have many thoughts #all the time #and once i get going on a post there's no stopping me #ahhhhh i wish i could not go on rants #but alas i have the power to and so i must #uhhhhh lmao i didn't mean to get personal in this post but here we are #bnha #bnha 321 #bnha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #tw eating disorder mention #tw eating disorder #idk if it actually is #but i looked it up and it seems connected #please i IMPLORE you if any of the info i gave seems a bit off #like the psychology stuff and eating mention #don't hesitate to message me so i can fix it #i encourage corrections #after all i'm not an expert in the field but i know what i've gone through #and it feels the same as what izuku has been through too #so yh #rambling #ramblings #the way this post jumps from ranting to analysis #PARKOUR!

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yourlocalshittywriter · 3 years

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The Duty of a Hero

Author’s Note: Howdy folks! I’m here with my first proper fic and I really hope that y’all like it! This will be exploring what could’ve happened if the Dabi that Aizawa fought wasn’t one of Twice’s clones. Since this is a fight, I advise the folks that are sensitive to things like that to click off and read another fic. Also, since this story does change scenery and moods a bit, I included some songs that change along with the the stories mood! This is mainly just because I like showing off my music taste and shit. Here’s Part 2!

Songs to Go Along: The Fighter by In This Moment, Acid Bubble by Alice In Chains, The Great Gig In The Sky by Pink Floyd

I felt extremely at peace for once in life. I felt the normal crackling of my joints silence into a warm nothingness. My aching muscles that had been torn to shreds time and time again, the ones that had been strained and stretched beyond the limits of the human body seemed to reform perfectly as they melted into the rest of my numb form. My skin, a forest of calluses, scars, stitches, and open wounds felt as if it was no longer there. I was no longer confined to the space of my body, and instead moved around as freely as water or air. I was a sort of goo, unmoving, stationary, simple, yet free.

With a quirk as self-destructive as mine, becoming a hero was a sort of death wish. My quirk was known as “pain transfer.” Anytime I made eye contact with a person, I could activate my quirk and subject myself to pain only to have them suffer the pain of the injury for as long as I was looking at them. I could also transfer existing pain to my target. Although I may have had a wicked high pain tolerance and quick recovery period, my humanity was bound to catch up to me eventually. Quirks like mine, “villainous quirks” according to most people, should be kept hidden and the people born with them should go on to live normal lives as ordinary civilians. My parents were among these people. When I told them that I was enrolling in the hero course at UA, I was given the choice to either become a hero and be disowned, or ditch my pipe dream and stay their beloved child. I packed my things that night.

It was a miracle that I passed the entrance exam the next day. I was running on little sleep, the loss of my financial support, and the trauma that came with the realization that your parents didn’t love you anymore because you didn’t live in a way that they approved of. I had trained since my will to become a hero first arrived, a sort of passionate drive that crashed into my life so unexpectedly that the impact nearly gave me whiplash.

I supposed that that inferno of, what? Spite? No, not spite, something deeper, hotter, and more righteous than spite. Let’s say ardor. This ardor was what drove me to take out as many robots as I could, despite the fact that my quirk was utterly useless in this situation. I took out a decent amount of robots, at least, decent enough to get into the hero course. A lady by the name of Recovery Girl healed me before I went on my way. I thought that I just had a few scrapes and bruises, but apparently I had a broken wrist. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the worst-off there, some poor kid broke both of his arms and one of his legs.

The time between this moment and when I got into UA seems to have flown by. I came into UA, a semi-blank canvas, and now here I was, bleeding out on the campsite that I planned to spend my summer at with my classmates. Dying feels far less painful than one would assume; you really don’t even realize that you’re dying at first. It’s sort of like that feeling you get after eating a warm meal after starving for so long, sickening at first, but comforting after you grow used to it. It’s like taking a hot bath after spending a day in the snow; it burns at first, but the burning subsides into a comforting numbness. Your senses slowly dull into nothingness but your brain is left to conjure whatever image it pleases. I could have seen dead relatives, met idols, or even pictured an alternate life where my parents still loved me, but I didn’t.

I didn’t want it. Fame, fortune, admiration, acceptance, rebirth, none of it. I wanted none of it. I wanted to live. I wanted to do what I swore to do as soon as I got into UA. I wanted what I signed up for when I packed my bags and left my parents’ house at age fourteen. I wanted what I fought tooth and nail for. I wanted my ambitions and goals fulfilled.

Of course I wanted what I had worked for, that was beyond obvious, however, I also wanted the small things in life. I wanted my afternoon tea with Yaoyorozu, Sato, and Todoroki. I wanted my fashion shows with Aoyama, Ashido, and Hagakure. I wanted my midnight conversations with Shinsou and Tokoyami. I wanted my video game sessions with Kaminari and Sero. I wanted my morning meditation meetings with Shoji, Ojiro, and Koda. I wanted to watch pro-wrestling with Bakugou and Kirishima. I wanted to train with Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya. I wanted to swim with Asui. I wanted to listen to music with Jiro and Mr. Present Mic. I wanted inappropriate jokes with Ms. Midnight. I wanted to make Mr. Aizawa proud; I wanted to make myself proud. So, with so many incredible things to live for, I opened my eyes, and attempted to move.

Much to my distaste, it turns out that my relief from pain, as well as the disassociation from my body was nothing more than a thin veil that was easily permeated as I rose from near death. The forest was nothing more than a verdant blur, one that was far from easy to navigate. However, all things end eventually, so I decided to run from death and wherever I ended up would be the least of my worries. I sprinted through the disorder and dysfunction, and wound up walking in on my teacher fighting the son of a bitch who had left me to die a lonely death with only the company of insects and whatever plants were to take over my wilting corpse.

As Mr. Aizawa tackled the cremation villain, I rose from the forest, stared at the man in restraints, and activated my quirk. As the pain transferred from me to him, I felt the veil of insensibility slip over me once more. The villain howled out in agony, the very agony that he had inflicted on me only minutes before.

“Whatever you do, don’t break your gaze Eraserhead!” I chimed as I finally straightened my form, not wanting the hero to see me in such a state, “You’ll just have to trust me on this one!” Mr. Aizawa nodded, keeping a steady gaze on his target.

“Tried to kill me off?” I snarled as I made my way towards the sadistic bastard and beloved teacher holding him in place.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” the captive growled through gritted teeth, still under an amount of pain that would knock-out any average human. He looked beyond pissed that I survived, as if he took offense to the fact that I didn’t appreciate his work. I waltzed over to him, just far enough from Mr. Aizawa, but just close enough to the charred villain.

“Surprise, I remain,” I cooed, low enough for only the villain to hear. He bared his teeth at me, looking at me as if he were some sort of rabid animal. I wanted to taunt him. I wanted to make fun of the fact that he had been taken down by a high schooler and their teacher, but I knew that it was never good to brag, because Karma would usually come to bite you in the ass for it.

I stared at the man covered in staples, every blink I took releasing him from the effects of my quirk. Every blink motivated me to continue staring at him, to immobilize him so Mr. Aizawa could use his eye drops or blink, to buy him some time. However, I knew that this game of “pass the villain” could only go on for so long. Something had to be done. Eventually, the patchwork villain would catch both of us off guard and use his quirk, or one of his buddies would come and back him up. Mr. Aizawa and I were miles away from my peers or the rest of the pro-heroes. It was just the two of us up against this villain, and we were growing tired.

Only minutes after the realization had struck me, the villain escaped from Mr. Aizawa’s scarf when the two of us accidentally blinked at the same time. The human crematorium stood before us, and before I could use my quirk to disable him, he shot out a flurry of blue flames my way.

I dodged this attack as Mr. Aizawa ran towards the villain, yelling out the name “Dabi.” Before Mr. Aizawa was able to restrain him, Dabi grabbed the erasure hero and threw him headfirst into a brick wall, effectively knocking him out. I desperately wanted to check on my partner in battle, but I knew that I couldn’t let my guard down, because now Dabi was staring me directly in the eye.

I could attempt to charge at him, but I would be charred to bits, and even if I somehow managed to avoid his flames, I would meet the same fate as Eraserhead, knocked out and at Dabi’s mercy. I was screwed, I had no back up, my teacher was unconscious, and I was face to face with one of Japan’s most notorious criminals. I was dead meat.

That was until I devised a plan, one that would take out the cremation villain for good. One that would end his reign of terror once and for all. However, there was only one downside to this plan, and that was the fact that this plan would result in two casualties, Dabi and me. However, if I went with any other plan, Mr. Aizawa and I were to become the victims while Dabi walked off scot free.

I was destined to become a martyr.

With that realization, I turned to my teacher who was slowly coming to his senses and gave him a gentle smile,

“Eraserhead, it has truly been a pleasure,” I announced as Dabi’s arrogant gaze turned to one of confusion. As Mr. Aizawa slowly faded back into his previously comatose state before he had time to be confused, I focused my gaze back on the blue-flamed bastard. It was time to end it, to end his rule once and for all.

I reached into my pocket, grabbed a tiny weapon that fit perfectly in my hand, locked eyes with the villain, smirked, and painlessly slit my neck. As Dabi grasped his neck and choked on his unseen blood, which was truly my blood, he fell to his knees.

As I took what I knew were my last steps, I came face to face with the first half to my murder-suicide. He glared at me, an amalgam of agony that felt nothing at all, and snarled.

“I’ll see you in hell, you cunt.”

I laughed, of all the things he could’ve chosen to be his final words, he chose to give into the childish desire to have the last word with me. As his oddly-familiar eyes drained of life, I felt the pain I had so carelessly inflicted upon myself finally hit me like a freight train.

I began to choke as I fell to my knees, similarly to how Dabi had fallen only seconds before. I knew that my time was up soon, I would succumb to my injuries and lose the thing I had fought tooth and nail for only moments before. I looked to the horizon to find the sun casting his loving gaze upon my battered body. It was as if Apollo himself was granting me a warrior’s death, like he knew I had made some kind of a righteous sacrifice that warranted a soothing transition from death to afterlife.

The sunrise was something like I had never seen before. The blues burned brighter than the flames I had defeated minutes before, the yellow pooled around my weary being like an evening gown to a death dance, and the red painted a comforting scene in the clouds, as if to distract me from my own red that painted my body and the ground around me. I smiled my final smile as I walked into the loving embrace of the sun.

My duty as a hero had been fulfilled.

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disabled-tolkien · 3 years

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Disabled Elves and Valinor

A lot of discussion around disability in Tolkien states one thing as a given; elves can’t be disabled, except for specific circumstances such as losing a limb in battle. It's common for people to say that disability was new to the Noldor when they landed in Beleriand and they hadn't experienced it before.

People seem to just accept that this is true, and often repeat that this is explicitly canon. So let's look at the two main arguments.

Number 1: Tolkien Said Elves Can't Be Disabled!

So, what does Tolkien say about elves and disability?

With the help of the Silm discord, three quotes came up:

“For though Eru appointed to you to die not in Eä, and no sickness may assail you, yet slain ye may be, and slain ye shall be: by weapon and by torment and by grief.” - Quenta Silmarillion

“They were thus capable of far greater and longer physical exertions (in pursuit of some dominant purpose of their minds) without weariness; they were not subject to diseases; they healed rapidly and completely after injuries that would have proved fatal to Men; and they could endure great physical pain for long periods. Their bodies could not, however, survive vital injuries, or violent assaults upon their structure; nor replace missing members (such as a hand hewn off).” - Athrabeth

“On earth the Quendi suffered no sickness, and the health of their bodies was supported by the might of the longeval fëar.” - Morgoth’s Ring

There's one really important fact here. These quotes are specifically about illness.

They emphasize health, that elves have great healing power, hardy bodies and are not susceptible to human diseases.

But disability and health are two separate things.

You can be disabled and healthy. You can be deaf, blind, mute, neurodiverse, cognitively impaired, mobility impaired, have limb disabilities... and be 100% healthy. It's just that your body is built a different way, but that's not a sickness. Disability is not a disease.

Elves having great healing ability and strength doesn't mean that they all have the same cookie-cutter version of what you might imagine to be the most perfect abled body.

Yes, chronic illnesses are disabilities, but not all disabilities are illnesses. You could use Tolkien’s statements to argue that elves don’t fall ill. But we also know that it's not actually true that all elves in Valinor are healthy. Miriel becomes deathly ill and is unable to be healed.

Saying that these quotes prove elves can't be disabled is untrue and shows a misunderstanding of disability. It also implies that elven bodies are too 'superior' to be disabled; aka, being disabled makes you lesser.

Number 2: Elven Bodies Are Perfect And Valinor Is Perfect

This one is straight up ableist.

Disabled bodies can be perfect as they are. And a perfect world isn't one where disabled people exist, it's one that's kind and joyful and welcoming to all. A perfect world is a world that allows people to exist exactly as they are, where everyone is accepted and loved.

Disabled people can be born into an unmarred land because disabled people aren't marred. That's why I chose my url. We are not a result of the marring; we too were born of the perfect song.

Aside from being born disabled, there’s also many other aspects to think about.

Elves that came from Cuivenen and the lands across the sea

Genetic conditions that develop throughout life

If they can’t replace a lost limb, can they replace an eye? What about frostbite from the Ice?

What about children from before the Great Journey whose bodies didn’t get enough nutrition while they were growing?

What about other accidents?

This part has room for much richer discussion. For example, could the Valar heal a missing eye and other accidents? Probably! But the idea that they would all want to be "healed" feels... extremely yucky to me as a disabled person. And what about those who became disabled in Cuivenen and had no access to Valarin healing at the time, and may have grown used to their disabilities?

You could have a lot of discussion here, but the point is, the potentials are a lot broader than the saying that we don't exist. Excluding us from the narrative, saying that it's incorrect for us to imagine characters with our own experiences, or that we don't belong in a perfect world is harmful and ableist. You should look at why you're assuming this, and what biases this reveals about what you think of disabled people’s roles in society.

Please can we get rid of this idea, it's ableist af.

#disability in tolkien #ableism in tolkien #meta #tolkien #silmarillion #mine

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davidmann95 · 3 years

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Sooo… Superman and the Authority?

magnus-king123 asked: Your thoughts on Superman & the authority Give it to me...lol

Anonymous asked: Seeing Bezos take his little trip into space the same day Morrison puts out a Superman comic that touches on how far we’ve fallen from the days when we dreamed of utopian futures where everyone explored the stars was a big gut punch. Not used to Superman being topical in that way.

Anonymous asked: What'd you think of Superman and the Authority#1?

This is far beyond what I can fit in the normal weekly reviews, so taking this as my notes on the first six pages, with this and this as my major lead-in thoughts:

* Janin's such a perfect fit for Morrison - the scale, the power, the facial expressions selling the character work, the screwing around with the panel formatting as necessary to sell the effect, the numinous sense of things going on larger than you can fully perceive amidst the beauty and chaos. It's a shame he wasn't around 25 years ago to draw JLA, but I'll take him going with Morrison onto other future projects.

* His intro action sequence is such a great demonstration of why Black actually does have something to offer, and also how he's such a dumbass desperately needing Superman to save him from himself.

* While Jordie Bellaire didn't legit go with an entirely monochromatic palate the way early previews suggested, it's still an effect frequently and excellently deployed here. And glad to see Steve Wands carry into this from Blackstars since there's such an obvious carryover from its work with Superman.

* "Gentlemen. Ladies. Others." Great both because of the obvious - hey, Superman's nodding at me! - and because it's a phrasing that reinforces that this take on him (and let's be real Morrison) is old as hell.

* I'm mostly past caring about whether this is an alt-Earth Superman until it becomes indisputable one way or another, this and Action both rule so what does it really matter? But while there are still a couple signs in play suggesting some kind of division (the Action Comics #1036 cover, Midnighter up to time-travel shenanigans) the "lost in time" quote clearly thrown in after the fact to explain how he could have met Kennedy outside of 5G that wouldn't be necessary for an Elseworlds, the assorted gestures towards Superman's current status quo, the Kingdom Come symbol appearing in Action, and that Morrison would have had to completely rewrite the ending if this wasn't supposed to be 'the' version of Clark Kent going forward as was the intent when they first planned it all say to me that no, no fooling around, this is our guy going forward one way or another.

* Janin and Bellaire making the first version of the crystal Fortress ever that actually looks as cool as you want it to.

Anonymous asked: I like that Superman and The Authority is basically the anti-All-Star; instead of the laid back, immortal Superman who is supercharged, we have a stressed, ageing Superman whose tremendous powers are fading. The former will always be there to save us, but the latter is running out of time and needs to pull off a Hail Mary. Also, he mentions in his monologue to Black that he was "lost in time" when he met JFK, so maybe he is the main continuity Clark. Or he's the t-shirt Supes from Sideways.

* You're absolutely right - the power reversal is obvious and the ticking clock in play seemingly isn't for his own survival but everyone around him as he wakes up and realizes all the old icons grew complacent with the gains they'd made and he's not leaving behind the world he meant to. Both, however, are built on the idea of preparing the world to not need them anymore - it'll still have a Superman in his son, but that'll only work because of the others he empowers and inspires. The question is what happens to Clark if he's not going to live in the sun for 83000 years.

* Clark's 'exercise' here does more to sell me on the idea of Old Man Superman as a cool idea than however many decades of Earth 2 stuff.

* Intergang being noted alongside Darkseid and Doomsday speaks to how much Kirby informed Morrison's conception of Superman.

* This isn't exactly the most progressive in its disability politics but at least it makes clear Black's being a piece of shit about it.

* It's startling how much Clark can get away with saying stuff in here you'd never expect to come out of Superman's mouth. "I made an executive decision" "Privacy, really...?" "You have nowhere to go, Black. Nothing to live for." "There are few people in my life who I instinctively and viscerally dislike, and you've always been one of them." It only works because there's zero aggression behind it, he's just past the point of niceties and being totally frank while making clear none of these assessments preclude that he cares and is going to unconditionally do the right thing every time. He is absolutely, per Morrison, humanity's dad picking us up when we're too drunk to drive ourselves home.

* The story doesn't put a big flashing light over it, but it's not even a little bit subtle having the material threat of the issue be a ticking timebomb left by the carelessness and hubris of generations past.

* Manchester keeps trying to poke the bear and prove his hot takes about Superman and it's just not working. The front he put up under Kelley is gone after decades of defeats, and as Morrison understands what actually conceptually works about him as a rival to Superman underneath the aging nerd paranoia he's exposed as what he absolutely would be in 2021: a dude with a horrific terminal case of Twitter brainworms. I was PANICKED when I heard there was an 'offensive term' joke in this, I was braced for Morrison at their well-meaning worst, but it's such a goddamn perfect encapsulation of a very specific breed of Twitter leftist who uses their politics first and foremost as a cudgel and justification to label their abrasive, judgmental shittiness as self-righteousness (plus it's a killer payoff to a joke from way back in his original appearance). Cannot believe they pulled that off when they're so very, very open about basically not knowing how the internet works.

* @charlottefinn: Manchester Black using his telekinetic powers to force someone he hates to fave a problematic tweet so that he can screenshot it and start a dogpile

@intergalactic-zoo: “Once they cancel Bibbo, Superman won’t be *anyone’s* fav’rit anymore!”

* Friend noted this issue had to be fully the conversation because the whole premise stands on the house of cards of these two somehow working together, and with three 'silent' inset panels the creative team pulls off that turning point.

* So much of this feels on the surface like Morrison bringing back the All-Star vibes with Clark, but when he drops a "That's all you got?" in a brawl you realize what's underlining that bluntness and confidence in the face of failure is that deep down this is still the Action guy too. This dude ain't gonna get wrecked in his Fortress while the other guy chuckles about him being A SOFT WEE SCIENTIST'S SON!

* Bringing up Jor-El made me realize that Morrison already spelled out that this is the final threat to Superman, what he faces at the end of the road:

"Now it's your turn, Superman."

* A l'il Superman 2000/All-Star reference with the Phantom Zone map!

* There's so much intertextuality going on here even by Morrison standards - Change or Die with the old hero putting together a team of morally nebulous folks out to 'fix' everything, Flex Mentallo with the muscleman trying to redeem the punk, Doomsday Clock with the fate of the world hinging on whether Superman can get through to a meta stand-in for an idea of 'modern' comics cynicism, DKR and New Frontier and Kingdom Come and Multiversity and Seven Soldiers and What's So Funny and All-Star and Action and the last 5 years of monthly Superman comics and Authority and probably Jupiter's Legacy and Tom Strong - but none of that's needed. You could go in with the baseline pop cultural understanding of the character and not care about any of the inside baseball shit and get that this is a story about a leader of a generation that let down the people they made all their grand promises to as inertia and day-to-day demands and complacency let him be satisfied with the accomplishments they'd made long ago, looking at a new era and seeing the ways its own activists are dropping the ball. The only thing that fundamentally matters in a "you have to accept you're reading a superhero story" sense is that because he's Superman he's willing to own up to it and listen to people who might know better about some things and try to set things right while he and those who'll take his place still have a chance. And yes, the oldster looking back on their legacy with a skeptical eye and hoping for better from the next generation, hoping most of all that their little heir apparent can fulfill the promise inside of him instead of being a provocating little shitkicker, is obviously also autobiographical.

* The overlaying Kennedy reprisal is such a great visual of a sudden intrusive thought.

* The Kryptonite secret is the obvious "This is going to matter!" moment, but "He lied about his son" is a bit that doesn't connect to anything going on right now so maybe that's important here too? More significantly, the Justice League can't actually be the villains here but that Ultra-Humanite's crew are in an Earth-orbiting satellite makes pretty clear what's up.

* I've said before that between Superman, OMAC, and a New Gods-affiliated speedster this was going to use all of Morrison's favorite things. King Arthur playing a role isn't exactly dissuading me.

* Love the idea that all the antiheroes have their own community in the same way as the capes and tights crew. They definitely all privately think the rest are posers though and that they alone are Garth Ennis Punisher in a mob of Garth Ennis Wolverines.

* Manchester's fallen so far he's gone from trying to convince Superman to kill to convince him to dunk on people for their bad takes and Clark just doesn't get it. Official prediction of dialogue for upcoming issues:

"According to these bloody Fortress scans, the only thing that can restore your powers is an unfiltered hit of dopamine. Don't worry, Doctor Black has a few ideas."

"Hmm. Maybe I'll plant a nice tree?"

"...fuck you."

* Ok I already talked about how great the Fortress looks in here but LOVE this library.

* A pair of pages this seems like the right spot to discuss from Black's original appearance that underlines both his and Superman's inadequacies up to this point:

Responding to the problem of "the government and penal system are hopelessly corrupt" neither of them has any actual notion of what to do about it in spite of their respective posturing beyond how to handle individual outside actors - each is in their own way every bit as small-minded and reactionary as the other. Clark's coming around though, and he's holding out hope for the other guy.

* Superman: Have a lovely mineral water :) proper hydration is important :)

Manchester Black: *Is a dude who can get so mad he vomits and passes out. At water.*

* That last page is the one to beat for the year, and does more to put over the idea of this as an Authority book than that Midnighter and Apollo are literally going to show up. It also feels like Morrison tacitly acknowledging all the ways the premise could go or at least be received wrong - from Superman saying 'enough is enough' to who he's bringing into the fold to go about it - in the most beautifully on-the-nose fashion imaginable. Maybe they'll save us all! Or maybe they'll drown us in their vomit.

#Superman and The Authority #Superman #The Authority #Manchester Black #Grant Morrison #Mikel Janin #Jordie Bellaire #Steve Wands #Opinion

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