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pendragonsclotpole · 7 months

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I need to preface this post with the fact that I’ve been aware of Supernatural for as long as I’ve known what the terms fanfiction and fandom mean. It’s one of those pop culture moments that’s existed on the periphery of my mind as something really beloved and bemoaned about by people on the internet, but it’s never been something I really cared about outside of some iconic memes.

For the past four days, I’ve been watching Supernatural non-stop in my free time. I think I sat through eight episodes straight on one of those days, and I just have to say, the show is phenomenal.

I don’t know where to start, I could make a dozen of these posts about various points throughout the first two seasons and it still wouldn’t be enough. I’ve now taken a break at episode one of season three, because now that it’s a weekday I have work and can’t dedicate the time I could on the weekend.

First, Jared Padalecki’s acting is so beautiful and poignant and emotional. He really makes Sam Winchester into the bleeding heart of the whole show, and the entire time he’s on screen I worry about Sam. His portrayal of Sam’s heartbreak and desperation at Dean’s impending death after the car crash, as well as Sam’s horror at the reveal of what John told Dean before dying held a tragic desperation and denial that really embodied what the character represented in the first two seasons. Even as a hunter and with his special abilities, Sam felt like a quasi self-insert for the audience. I don’t mean that in a bad or overly tropey way, but in the way that he felt robbed of a proper childhood in favor of his father’s crusade. Sam is the angry, indignant younger sibling who never bore the brunt of responsibility like the older sibling did and it shows. In some ways, it makes him more entitled—I don’t mean that Sam does not have the right to be angry with John Winchester. He does. Fuck John Winchester. I mean entitled in the unintentional, coincidental way that your little brother or sister always demands the things you never had or rebels against the authority of the parent without ever dealing with the consequences you did as the older sibling. It reveals the veneer of freedom he had and the protection he received by virtue of his place in the Winchester Family. For me, it made him unbearably real, and this feeling of realness was made worse by the genuine naivety and innocence he keeps even as he continually gets screwed over by the demons. There’s a steadfast belief in the goodness of others within Sam that often conflicts with the sense of goodness he believes he lacks.

Sam trusts so easily, but he understands people in ways that should be antithetical to his upbringing. It took me forever to reconcile why he seemed so familiar, until I realized that Sam Winchester, for all that he was one of John Winchester’s son, had received the unconditional love of an older sibling for his entire childhood.

I don’t mean the perfect, kind, healthy love that often exists between fictional siblings. Too often I’ve watched media that makes me wonder how siblings like that even exist, or conversely, made me glad my siblings weren’t so fucked up.

I mean the kind of platonic love that exists between siblings living in the liminal space of love and hate thanks to the single fucked up connection that draws them back together continuously out of some sense of duty or commiseration or the need to be understood.

I mean the kind of love between siblings that would wither away when in a perfect world that does not stake their survival on their codependence of each other, but that in an imperfect and real world is equated to familiarity. Sam and Dean against the world—against John Winchester.

Out of all of the episodes I’ve watched in the last day and a half, perhaps the one that struck me most was episode 20, Season 2. What is and What Should Never Be. Not only was the title a bit of emotional whiplash—the juxtaposition of Should and Never lending a finality or a sense of wrongness that can’t be replicated by the words “Could Never—but we see Dean and Sam in a world where their one connection, hunting, has completely vanished and at a high cost to all the people they’ve saved, but mostly to Sam and Dean themselves. They’re connection as ride or die brothers is gone, replaced by an ostensibly better, healthier, more normal future liberated from the expectations of the rest of the world.

Without the death of Mary Winchester, Dean and Sam are no longer Dean and Sam. They’re just two people, connected by the two people that raised them, and likely to drift apart after that connection dies—frayed ends of a tapestry pulling apart and unraveling. Dean gains a mom and a normal life, but metaphorically loses a brother and a sense of purpose. Who is Dean Winchester if he’s not a hunter and Sam’s brother? And the sad thing is, neither of these are traits Dean ever chose. They are conditions foisted upon him, perhaps not intentionally, such as in the case of Sam, but ultimately placed on his soul until they tethered themselves to the very core of what being Dean Winchester is supposed to mean. The end of the episode, and Dean’s choice to return to the real world, regardless of Sam waking him up, is Dean fully giving up his dream in order to save Sam and be a hunter. The fallacy of the episode is in the choice Dean makes, which the more I think about it, feels less like a choice and more of an inevitability but one compounded by Dean’s readiness and willingness to go with it.

This is where I get to the crux of my surprise with these first early seasons of Supernatural: Dean Motherfucking Winchester.

I don’t know what I was expecting from early seasons of Supernatural, especially with the context of the later seasons. Maybe an overly cheesy, early 2000s ode to roadtrip Americana with a self-reverential take on the classic gun slinging frontiersman of the Wild West and bad supernatural CGI. Not to say it isn’t that (shout out to Sam’s comment on Dean’s particular brand of butch), but what surprised me was how real the connection between the characters was manifested on screen and how much good will the show built up in the audience. There came a point where I sided with Dean so much in the events of the show that I felt like I was riding shotgun in the impala. I saw it with every compliant “yes, sir” he gave to John, with every teasing comment he threw at Sam, and with every act of selflessness he exhibited by protecting other people. This isn’t to say that Dean is perfect. Sometimes he doesn’t take things seriously enough, or he’s willing to sacrifice people for some misguided greater good, or he’s obsessed with saving Sam even when he wouldn’t be if it were anyone else, but Dean has a conviction so many people lack. He has the capacity to love at a great cost to himself, either because he believes himself unworthy of being loved or because he’s not used to anything else.

Jensen Ackles does such a good job at this portrayal and with such a different technique than Jared Padalecki. Ackles embodies the desperate need for self-assuredness that Dean breathes, as well as the genuine fear he has of being seen. I love laughing with Dean as much as I love screaming at him for how stupid he’s being. If Sam is the self-insert, then Dean is the tragic hero, although that comparison feels like a poor facsimile for what Dean Winchester truly is because I don’t particularly feel an overwhelming sense of pity at his state or at his hinted downfall with that demon deal. If anything, I feel a sense of indignation mixed with understanding and frustration that Dean can’t catch a break but at the end of it all, is just how he prefers it.

It shouldn’t be a shock to admit that even without knowing what happens from seasons 3 to 15, I know how Supernatural ends. Just thinking about the ending makes me wonder if I should even continue it past season 5, but that’s a decision for another time.

For now, there’s something unbearably tragic in seeing Dean Winchester so close to a chance of a normal life and apple pie happiness (something he really seems to desire no matter how much he denies it) and then having to give it up, not just because it’s not real, but because he believes it should never be real.

Dean Winchester deserves better.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural season 1 #supernatural season 2 #supernatural season 3 #dean winchester deserved better #dean winchester deserves better #sam and dean #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #character study

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shannankle · 6 months

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Art in Shadow the Series

So as I was watching episodes 1-7, one thing that stood out to me was how Brother Anurak asks Dan to keep a dream journal. Now the idea I have in my head of a dream journal is that it is written, but interestingly when Dan does choose to record his dreams he does so through art.

I think there’s something interesting going on here with narrative and Anurak pressuring Dan to narrativize his dreams, but I’m planning to cover that in another post. For now I wanted to focus first on how art comes up in the show. I’m sure there are folks more versed in this but here’s some things I noticed.

Surrealism

I want to start with surrealism because as a style that is directly mentioned in the show by Dan and Cha-aim. As a style and movement it seems to both aesthetically and thematically align well with the show. Even with a cursory knowledge of surrealism, it’s easy to see why the style would work well in a horror piece that is trying to bend one’s sense of reality and realism. But I want to unpack this a bit more.

Surrealism cropped up after WWI in Europe and it was very much a response to the trauma of large scale war. Surrealists attributed the war to an over emphasis on rationality and bourgeois values that dominated prior to the war. Their response was to turn to methods of creating art, writing, and media that would allow them to access the things that realism suppressed. The goal was to find ways of producing art that allowed the unconscious to be expressed so that both dream and reality could co-exist in a “super reality” or “surreality.”

So how might this resonate with Shadow?

Well first off, trauma. Dan and Cha-aim discuss art and surrealism in the theater. This happens just after Dan has told her about his parents and as we begin the storyline of Dan’s past. It’s entirely possible that surrealism is something Dan is fond of because it resonates with his experiences with trauma. Perhaps in this light we can also think about how he turns to art more frequently as he starts to get control over his dreams and develop a more intimate relationship with the shadow.

Then there’s the idea of surreality. This of course fits well with what the show is attempting to do with Dan’s experience. He is not just dreaming about the shadow, but it is coming to be intertwined (literally and figuratively if you catch my drift) with reality in the same space. This notion of co-existing, I’d argue feels apt for a story exploring the ways that queerness and disability are rejected by society. Instead, through haunting they sit on the border of rejection and co-existence.

And of course this ties in well with the ideas of rationality and suppression. Brother Anurak tells Dan that if he stops believing in the shadow, it’ll lose its power. Mind over matter–rationality over the subconscious and that which society tries to suppress. Perhaps Anurak’s role here is to take on the suppressive role of rationality? After all he does claim that "Your mind is of the most importance." The monk Dan and Nai visit certainly is placed in opposition to this, offering a more supernatural explanation and solution for what’s occurring. Correct me if I’m remembering wrong, but we also see Dan start to draw his dreams for the first time after he is given the ring.

We can also perhaps see a critique of hyper-rationality in how Dan confronts his father. Notice how their dream encounter is framed around a chess board (a game his father loves and plays even in the hospital). His father is quick to turn away from the idea of emotional vulnerability. When Dan asks if he ever loved him, he responds in logical terms: "That's a stupid question." He can’t recognize how he harms others and rejects the idea that men should express love, care, and intimacy. This rejection of emotion allows him to justify and perpetuate abuse. Not entirely dissimilar to the claim by surrealists that hyper-rationality led to the violence of WWI. Through Dan’s resistance to his father, the show is perhaps trying on one level to present us with a critique of how rationality comes to be tied to structures of violence.

These structures go beyond the family unit in Shadow, much like Surrealists were concerned with bourgeois values. Notice how most of the teachers at the school push for a particular set of social norms, suppressing threats to current values. From the librarian telling Dan and Nai to hide their queerness to the head of the school resisting Trin’s attempts at change. And this ties really well to Surrealism as a movement which was, with some exceptions, tied to communism and anarchism. Surrealists were often thinking in revolutionary terms.

Salvador Dalí and The Persistence of Memory

Before moving on I think I should briefly talk about Salvador Dalí. Dan mentions Dalí specifically and Cha-aim specifically refers to his piece “The Persistence of Memory.” Dalí and this art piece are probably the most well known touchpoints for surrealism nowadays. Though it does bear keeping in mind that Dalí, unlike many other surrealists, had fascist leanings (or at the very least he refused to denounce it). Something I can’t ignore if we’re going to accept my above claim that the show could be dialoguing with the revolutionary values of the movement. My guess is that the show isn’t wanting us to think too hard about Dalí and is using these as a recognizable gesture to surrealism for the audience. But it’s something to chew on as the rest of the show plays out.

Dalí, however, is an interesting figure to think about in terms of themes on madness. Madness and mental illness are certainly aspects Shadow is playing with, and I’m hoping to also write a future post on how horror and madness intersect around disability. The theme is also central to Hamlet, our play within a show. I’m sure there are folks who know more than I do on how Dalí spoke about madness over the years.

However, what I have found is that Dalí wrote about madness in a piece titled, “Declaration of the Independence of the Imagination and the Rights of Man to His Own Madness.” In it he writes “we announce these truths: that all men are equal in their madness, and that madness (visceral cosmos of the subconscious) constitutes the common base of the human spirit.” This wasn’t exactly a call to accept mental illness but the quirky, strange, and illogical.

In response to attempts to alter his art and make it more palatable, he wrote “It is man’s right to love women with the ecstatic heads of fish.” His take on art and pushing boundaries was something he framed as “apolitical” and did end in troubling places at times. Still the idea of claiming madness feels appropriate to a show that is so interested in alterity (queerness, mental illness, etc) and madness as a lens to explore this.

Dalí’s piece, “The Persistence of Memory” is also a compelling reference for the show to use. The MoMA describes it this way: “Those limp watches are as soft as overripe cheese…Here time loses all meaning. Permanence goes with it: ants…represent decay.” The way that the piece hauntingly captures decay and the failure of time speaks well to the show’s focus on death, haunting, and the breakdown of time. On a very related note, I talk about the way these themes manifest in the show through cultural anxieties around the death drive and queer time in this post here. “The Persistence of Memory” is another great example of this dynamic in Shadow.

The Bust

We’re presented with at least one other form of formal art in the show during the art class where Dan sees his classmates dead. Here they’re presented with a classical bust and asked to draw it how they see fit. Despite the fact that they are told to do what they want, there are still rules here. Nai tells Dan (in the waking dream timeline) that as a kid he was told to draw whatever he wanted, but was then required to take supplemental exam. While it’s presented humorously, there’s an interesting tension brought up between freedom of expression and unspoken rules. Draw what you want, but not like that. Be yourself, but not that way or we’ll have to give you supplemental lessons. It’s notable that of all the art in the show this is the only one happening in a class setting, once again bringing us back to the ways the teachers often push social norms on the students.

The assignment itself is interesting in so much as drawing a bust, like still-life drawing, requires the artist to focus on a model and draw something in the real world. Compare this to surrealism which rejects pure realism. Or to the drawings Dan does. Correct me if I’m missing anything, but when Dan draws he never works off a model or at least not a real-world reference. He draws cartoons, he draws what he saw in his dreams.

I think it’s striking that the bust falling is what marks a perceived shift from reality to waking dream for Dan. When he goes back to pure reality, we find out this switch happened before he even talked to Nai (making that conversation all the more important). Still the statue falling marks the moment of perception changing. And notice how it is the bust’s head that is shattered, a common symbol for rationalism. The head bursts and the dominance of reality and rationality fall away to a surreal waking dream.

A few other thoughts:

-Correct me if I’m wrong but I believe the first time we see Dan sketch his dreams is after he’s given the ring by the monk. And he does so more as he starts to become more intertwined with his dreams. Suggesting that art and drawing are an alternative way of engaging with the shadow than what brother Anurak has been offering.

-Dan and Nai first meet when Dan gives him the journal full of pictures. The use of art marks the start of their friendship, and could even be symbolic of their shared supernatural abilities and their social alterity.

-While not fine art, theater as a performing art is also influential and a space where our other character Trin is framed as we learn of his queerness and mental illness

#shadow the series #shadow the series meta #my meta #thai bl #bl series #my posts

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finsterhund · 1 year

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For whatever reason I've been hyperfocusing on Skinamarink (2022) even though I think it is an immensely flawed movie. (I guess it's like a Seventh Brother scenario. Where I don't think it's peak cinema but I still find something very specific that I can relate to and thus become obsessed and incorporate it into my existence) Maybe it will continue to grow on me. Who knows.

I summarized it in the friend group as “Childhood neglect simulator” and I do stand by that. Analogue horror childhood neglect liminal space simulator is perhaps more apt.

But this film really embodies just what it’s like to be a terrified toddler left to fend for himself in the dark all alone.

Spoilers under this

Unfortunately I have to be honest and confess that the movie lacks substance and the style it oozes doesn't make up for that. It's slow, drags, and is boring at times. So much of the movie is "stare into a dark void and nothing happens." There's build up, and then there's “ASMR spooky liminal house tour” and this sadly felt like more of the latter. So much of what makes the movie standing out to me is because I am nyctophobic and never actually grew out of the primal toddler-aged fear the film invokes. Especially as there are periods of worse mental health where I regress all the way down to that age. The joke my friends made about it putting me to sleep if I ate an edible and watched it is not accurate. Because it simulates nyctophobia remarkable well. So I couldn't be bored out of focusing lol.

I was immediately offput by how much excessive cheesy after effects film grain filter was dumped onto the footage in post. I joke a lot about how it wants to be 70s vibe film but then it is a 16x9 resolution which took me out of the vibe pretty hard. And due to much of the movie "holding on this shot of practically nothing" I was especially distracted by modern aspects of the house such as the extremely modern 2010s wall outlet cover and the dollar tree night light (which REALLY distracted me the first viewing. I could not stop thinking about that motherfucker was not from 1995.)

The movie also did not have a folley artist and presumably the creator Kyle Ball did all the mixing himself and used free sound effects from a public domain stock archive himself. Which unfortunately really shows. Folley is an art and strange sound effect choices took me out of it on several occasions. It also feels like the background noise wasn't layered over top of specific sounds properly at certain points.

Another issue was inconsistent subtitling. There are times when there are then and times that you think really should be like those and have them but they don't.

I understand this film unlike his YouTube videos were crowdfunded and he had other people on the team so it's somewhat disappointing there isn't a noticable increase of production value(?) Just mostly an increase in length. Other than additional actors there really isn’t much that sets it above his short film “Heck” which due to its shorter length I felt was more engaging. (Although the cancer thing was very :/ you are on thin ice mr ball)

What substance is there though is very good. You can tell the creator started out with short form liminal space nostalgia "analogue horror" YouTube shorts and ASMR aesthetic soundscapes. This would work so much better if it was like his shorter videos and trimmed the fat. Otherwise it needs to have a cast that the audience can actually see and observe the interactions of more. There's gotta be a balance, again, style and substance.

The fact that it’s like watching a childhood nightmare is incredible, and if that’s what Kyle set out to achieve then he for sure succeeded. But a story this is unfortunately not.

I feel if there was media like this that had more emphasis on how the characters experienced their predicament it would do wonders. It could easily be peak experimental HoDcore.

The entity itself was so criminally underutilized. I think there's maybe a minute of combined dialogue when you add up its dialogue with that of the human cast.

Which is a shame because I feel once again, if we had more of character interaction it would be more engaging.

The entity toys with the little boy Kevin and I didn't realize until I watched it a second time and read someone else talk about the movie that one of the later scenes shows it killing him and immediately bringing him back to do it again presumably for its own amusement. (Extremely relatable character right here. I am Kevin 🤣)

This was shown by blood splattering and then being reversed like a tape being rewound. The importance of the tape metaphor became more apparent on the second watch. The first watch I felt the film relied too heavily on showing the public domain cartoons. It wasn't until much later the entity is shown YouTube pooping them and it actually becomes relevant and the comparison is more obvious.

There were instances where I feel things were a bit too vague in a "what does it mean" way. I'm torn because I don't think every little thing should be explicitly explained, but I think there should be some context, you know? (Why the entity moved things, what it did to the mom, etc.)

A big reason why I can overlook how empty and slow it is is because this experience is so quintessential as a toddler in Canada during the end of the analogue age. I feel that the toys and the public domain cartoons featured were things that never were distinctly important childhood items of significance but they were things I recognized for sure. So it was this uncanniness of it being the stuff you had and remembered but never formed lasting long love/influence from. It isn’t your favourite film on VHS, it’s that compilation you’d watch sometimes ,etc.

The phone call the dad makes is so viscerally similar to the way my mom would talk to family members in phone calls about me. The uncanny warped by darkness face of the parent/entity at the end is SO MUCH like how that shit felt to me. And that got me thinking about additional aspects of that experience that if part of the movie would have amplified it further.

The biggest thing I think would really expand the concept is shadow play. Would require more special effects or very intentional practical effects but having the shadows tangibly move/behave abnormally would have been spectacular. That is one of the most defining horrors of my childhood. How shadows seemed to shift and move. A serious source of terror growing up was how the baseboard heater made the curtains above it move, and the shadows projected by the nightlight of those curtains would twist and roll and coil. During sleep paralysis I fucking grew to hate those curtains so much.

I personally care very little for edgy "child was in a coma the whole time" theories or "child's paranormal experiences were just a metaphor" theories so I'm not even going to bother getting into those. You know we're team "Not A Dream" on the Finsterhund channel. As far as I'm concerned the entity was literal.

There were a few jumpscares but they were just that really. The first one, where the older kid is looking at something freaky on the ceiling and the younger accidentally sneaks up behind felt natural, but the reveal that the entity took their face was unintentionally humorous. I literally said "Slenderman sister jumpscare" out loud and had to pause it because I was laughing so hard I got the mood ruined.

The fisher price jumpscare though I really liked. The actual face changing wasn't too spoopy but oh my god when the camera shows what it looks like with the flashlight off, with the very faint glint of the outer circles of the whites of its eyes. That freaked me out so bad. That is the embodiment of nyctophobia making you see demons out of regular items. I don't even know if that was an edit or if those phones just normally look like that under very low light but man.

Every time someone gives me shit about leaving the lights on I will pin them down and force them to look at this until they understand.

I have a personal anecdote in that when I was a toddler I was dumped off at somebody’s house. Not someone I know of and not a family member. And they had a fucking mask on the wall and they made me sleep in that room in the dark with that stupid fucking mask. And I fucking hated that goddamn mask. Fuck it. Fuck those people andtheir creepy fucking mask.

Some of the more tangible things the entity does that made the story more engaging were sadly also detrimental towards the mood. The toilet disappearing with a silly noise being one such instance. Removing the doors and windows and removing/incapacitating the parents I can understand. But why did the entity remove the toilet? There's even a scene where the children slide buckets into the bathroom to show the aftermath of this porcelain pilfering. Was it just for the entity to dehumanize and further torment them? I feel there were better ways to demonstrate that without silly disappearing toilet.

Because of my prominent nyctophobia I have no clue how much I can credit the movie for in it's "camera pointed at a dark void" shots and how much was just my brain filling in holes. For certain scenes I did take screenshots and blast up the contrast to see if there were literal things in the darkness pixels but every time there wasn't except for the face at the end. It was just my brain, not intentional edits in the film. I feel if there were intentional nyctophobia hallucinations they outright edited into the voids that effect would be brought to people who aren't me lol.

Honestly the biggest thing this movie instilled in me was wanting to make my own with more meat and potatoes hahaha. I'm thinking actually using a camcorder instead of editing gimmicky filters in post, including practical effect tangible interactions between the cast and the entity, etc.

I know I'm acting really harsh but I do feel like it had an exuberant amount of potential to cater directly to me but then it just sorta fizzled out if that makes sense. And I do think that so much of it was excellent that it makes what didn’t work hurt more. Unfortunately I don't think setting the mood is the only thing you need to do to create engaging horror you need a reason to care about the ones experiencing it.

Like I said, it had so much style. But style alone doesn't do it for me. Mainly because my brain already does that on its own. So I wish Skinamarink had more to it in regards towards the stuff that I can't just go and do to myself when the power goes out.

In regards to watching it with edible vs without, the edible made my nyctophobic perception of the dark void shots worse. Which is something important I should be aware of in the future for sure as this likely would have real world implications as well.

Again, I want to stress that I am glad to have seen this movie and I feel my disappointment is because I'm aware of just how far beyond this movie could have been. Or something.

Lastly, a nitpick. The song that the movie derives it's name is in the public domain. Most people know it from The Elephant Show, but the song itself was made in 1910. I really feel like it could have been incorporated somehow. And on the subject of music I feel there could have been if not outright musical scoring, some more prominent ambiance(?) What's that called where you basically write ambiance as if it's music. There's a HoD fan album that does this.

IDK call me a normie for wishing we saw more of Kevin as a character but yeah. I do wish that.

Also a running joke I had in both watchings was calling the entity “asthmatic master of darkness” because of its voice. I want to specify this.

Anyways, disassociating Cayden simulator looking pretty good.

#text post #long post #skinamarink

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mistytpednaem · 4 months

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wow!!! that was a year

as I begin to write this post I'm not even sure if I'm going to post it, lmao. I guess it depends on how much of a bummer it turns into. and if it helps me sort out some thoughts, then it won't have been a complete waste of time.

waste, huh...

on one hand, I don't... reaaaally?? want to talk about what's been going on in my life? but on the other hand, there's a part of me that's like "wow, Naem, that makes it sound like you've been struggling with some serious shit, which is straight up not true, do you just want people to feel sorry for you?" and then on the third mutant hand (I have a lot of those, it turns out) there is a different part of me that does acknowledge the way this other section of my brain jumps straight to accusatory self-flagellation is something many people do not, in fact, struggle with

I've been doing remote therapy this year! it's alright. my therapist has some wild ass takes from time to time, and it is perhaps one of my most substantial monthly expenses (note: yes I still live with my parents so, you know, I don't pay rent), but she IS insightful and a good professional so like. I feel, on the whole, it's working out well for me. a-aside from the part where I still can't seem to love myself consistently but unfortunately I don't think anybody else can fix that for me. I just... have to keep working on it.

speaking of therapy, maybe I should tell her in the next session "hey, cool new year, uhhh I keep finding myself thinking it isn't worth getting excited or feeling hopeful for anything because as time goes on there will only be more and more things to be sad about, because everything is finite and loss is a constant, and it's kind of bumming me out?" maybe I should. honestly, that was the thought this post was going to center around initially, but I've found other things to talk about, thankfully.

ah man. heck. I JUST narrowed down the exact thing motivating this post. "the dread I feel when i see everyone on social media post about their Year In Review." so much of this is about the unrelenting passage of time.

not everything is a huge bummer. experienced some good-ass media this year. Hi-FI Rush was really cool, Midnight Mass was so good it got me to watch it three times in spite of how bad I am with horror, Across the Spiderverse was as good as everyone said - speaking of Spider-Man, I think I've come to terms with adopting Curt Connors as a blorbo, which has nothing to do with Spiderverse but is, perhaps, a baby step in the direction of Accepting The Trash I Like. excited for more Jojolands. Jujutsu Kaisen S2 was really fucking good, so much so that I'm afraid no future arcs will grip me the same way. oh yeah, I got really into Will Wood this year, which is a bit embarrassing because his fanbase seems to be composed primarily of teenagers, but hey. sort of circling back around to me needing to accept what I like, I guess.

I've been taking other baby steps, namely towards Drawing More Often. I... have, right?? I know I haven't posted everything I drew, but it was definitely more than, say, two years ago. which is nice. hope I can keep that up or, even better, Do It Harder.

I don't have a habit of making New Year's Resolutions. I do have a couple of wishes, but I'm frankly not sure if they're anything I can control. Financial stability? Well, there are certainly efforts I can make in that direction, as much as I hate even looking at LinkedIn. To stop finding myself trapped in the middle of interpersonal conflict that I care about too much even when it doesn't directly concern me, resulting in weeks of heightened anxiety at a minimum? I think if it were within my power to stop that, I would have already done it, but uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

ah man. I should have found a nicer note to end this on. ummm.

I deeply appreciate all of my friends, not only for being generally rad people but also for seeing nice things in me when I can't. This goes quadruple for my girlfriend, who manages to do all that while also struggling with brains that are very mean and unfair to her.

I feel like I said this last year, but I hope I can learn to depend on you all a little less going forward. Not in a "get out of my life you LOSERS" kind of way, but in a "thanks for the support, here, I can stand on my own two feet, so don't worry about lending me another one" kind of way.

#oh yeah guess i should use a certain vintage tag on this post:#my brain malfunctions #glad i remembered that before i took it out of the oven

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svereds-wise-words · 1 month

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The Ring

The ring tells the thrilling story of one's memories and ill deeds from the past coming back to haunt not only them, but any who should come under the ire of the spirits wrath. I'm going to be honest, anything that I could come up with in terms of connections to Japanese society is pretty thin at best. People like horror because it gives them a thrill. Brings them out of their comfort zone and shocks them into a feeling of being alive even if that's through fear.

In comparison to modern day horror this film feels rather hollow. It attempts this slow build up to try and pull you into the fear, ticking down the days until your inevitable doom until you are hit with Sadako crawling out of the TV coming to... scare you to death? in retrospect that's kind of an odd way of killing people. In the movie we never see the entirety of Sadako's face, so it could be assumed that its her face being revealed that scares people to death, but for a horror film I feel like the cause of fear could have been developed stronger. The threat of torture, being eaten, used in weird and gross ways... there are a number of ways you can instill fear in someone, but the actual source of their fear is always really vague. The scenario where they are approached by Sadako crawling out of the TV is obviously enough to unsettle anyone, but what exactly is it that leads them to die? In the movie its suggested she has the power to stop peoples hearts, but again it seems to be from fear, at least when she is pursuing people in their homes.

I feel I should also continue by saying given that we watched it as a class it's hard to get absorbed into the horror element as much as one could have if they were alone in their house in the middle of the night. I feel like the setting in which you watch a movie, in conjunction with who you are watching the movie with makes a huge difference in its ability to inspire fear within you, but I feel like its psychological build-up left something to be desired, at least within a modern day audience. In modern days, there are several good examples of media that take good use of this slow creeping psychological terror. For example, the Amnesia games. It's constantly throwing uneasy situations at you and knowing that the monster could be there at any time is what brings the unease and this crippling feeling of "I don't want to continue". If the film wanted to create this true feeling of unease, I think it should have made the possibility of death available, and perhaps used the week timer as merely a sense of finality. You would die within 1 week rather than at the end of 1 week.

I've thrown a lot of shade at the movie, but I'm not really versed in pre 2000s horror. For its time it could be a masterpiece, I just don't have the context or knowledge to really elaborate on that. Overall, the movie was decent, I just felt like if it was remade today it could be a lot stronger in its approach.

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deadpuppetboi · 2 years

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Normally, Jimmy wouldn't pay much attention to rumors circling around Bullworth, let alone the ones that would come from those he fought. But this one rumor wouldn't leave him alone, no matter how much he tried to dismiss it.

It's said that a figure was selling so-called 'banned tapes’ over at The Tenements or even near it.

The teenager half-heartingly expected to get jumped by The Townies or even The Greasers late into the night. Perhaps it was a tactic made by The Prefects to catch any misbehaving students who snuck out of school to cause trouble. Then again, all they ever do is walk around and act like they're all that when they weren't.

Whatever it was, Jimmy was prepared for it, it wasn't like he hasn't done this before. Sure, he was practically risking his dignity as well as his sleep just to see if this rumor was true or not, but his curiosity got the better of him. Besides, it was better to keep his mind occupied than nothing at all.

The town was silent late into the night, the lights being as helpful as the starless sky above. If anything, it seemed that even the universe was telling Jimmy to turn back, that what he was doing was going to give him more trouble than anything he was in.

What did the rumors say? Wait out by three? Two in the morning? Midnight?

Whatever it was, Jimmy walked on into the night, scratching the back of his neck as he walked another block to nothing. He figured right then and there that he was wasting his time and he should get back to his dorm room by now.

He was only stopped when he felt the air get thicker when he passed by an alleyway. He stopped, stepping a few steps back before looking into the darkness where the light seemed to dissipate.

Jimmy didn't seem to see him at first, at least, until a shadow of a figure seemed to appear out of thin air. The dim light from the far left picked up the lining of a man, he was tall, and yet his smile was what shined brighter than ever.

“Hey, “he said with a chuckle, “you want some tapes?”

Jimmy paused, eyeing the man up and down to get a clearer picture of him. The light didn't help but he could tell he was wearing a trenchcoat, he wore boots lined with red, and the gloves matched the color as well.

It was his face that didn't make sense to the teenager.

He couldn't make it out for the life of him or even if he wore a mask or not. It was just pitch black and all he had going for him was his voice. He sounded carefree yet on edge if that made sense.

“Sure, whatchu got?”

The man leaned his hand over and opened his coat, his body wasn't visible (Jimmy hoped that he was wearing clothes underneath) but the tapes were. They were all labeled differently, if not having the strangest names known to man.

‘Piggsy’s Greatest Hits. White Trash. View Of Innocence. Hittin’ The Skinz. Who Let The Wardogs Out?’

Jimmy wouldn't be surprised if they were made out of the blue with how weird they were worded. Then again, those weren't sold anywhere so they could be named like that just to avoid being caught by the law.

“I got them all. I got tapes no red-light district would touch, games the media thrives to blame society’s problems on, and even DVDs of horror movies with no restrictions whatsoever. Pick any and we’ll talk price.”

Jimmy looked over the tapes, mind running on whatever one would be considered useful to watch. He opened his mouth on his decision before the man covered the tapes and raised a finger in the air.

“Wait, wait, wait, “he chimed, his smile growing from ear to ear, “I got a tape just for you.”

Jimmy eyed the man.

“For me?”

“Yeah, consider it a-uh-gift since this is your first time paying, I assume. It's not every night I get to see the youth go out of their way to make a deal with me, you know. Usually, they’d go running the second they see me or even what I sell, but not you, no, never you.”

Jimmy gave out a huff.

“Well, consider me a liability then.”

The man laughed, waving his hand as he picked out a specific tape from within his coat. He pulled it out, leaning his long arm over into the light where Jimmy could see his glove. Once again, it was black lined with red yet the tips were as sharp as knives.

Jimmy grabbed at the tape, careful with the supposed claws the man had on himself. He eyed it, the back was blank yet the front was covered with some weird purple alien with a chef’s hat on his head. The title was what Jimmy doubt the product again: Born Again.

“I know, it's a lot to take it, but I assure you, it's the right tape for a young man like you.”

“What’s it about?”

The clawed hand made a slight turn to the side, as to reflect the dealer’s carefree nature.

“It's everything a growing boy would need in a film like that. No restrictions whatsoever. It's all on tape, bare skin and all.”

“Gross.”

“Exactly, “the man chuckled, closing his coat as he did so, “now if that's all you want, that’ll be 10 bucks, 15 if you want another tape, I’m nice like that.”

The deal paused before adding to the deal.

“I guarantee absolute satisfaction - 100% of the time.”

Jimmy looked at the tape, then at the man, then at the tape again. He clicked his tongue before digging his free hand to get his wallet. He knew not to keep his eyes off the man so he did it as quickly as he could.

He gave the ten-dollar bill to the dealer who took it with as much pride and joy over making a deal with a literal child. He made his way back into the shadows where Jimmy made his way back to his school, confident that he was done for the night.

“Pleasure doing business with you, James.”

Jimmy stopped in his tracks, quickly turning over to the alleyway in shock.

“How’d chu know my-” the darkness was all that greeted the teenager, not a man in sight as well as any sound of boots crunching the gravel below, “-name...”

Jimmy looked around, with no soul in sight, he quickly made his way back, hiding the tape from within his jacket. Despite the air being as thick as the season, his body was chilled to the bone.

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armchairambrose · 1 year

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Ugly Art

Gyakkyou Burai Kaiji: Ultimate Survivor was released October 3rd 2007 and is likely not a piece of media that has been heard of or watched before by the majority of individuals with an interest in anime, even should drama or psychological suspense genres be a favorite of theirs. It is not a memorable show to many because of a simple unfortunate factor about it; the anime is Ugly.

Kaiji is a tense dramatic social commentary about the Japanese economic state and the failures of the government to provide for individuals. It is about the desperation that Japanese men have become accustomed to when the most they could hope for is a part time job that pays too little. Their bills climb, income is stagnant, and those who retained wealth from the last economic boom and were safe from the recession are flaunting wealth and driving imported cars, wearing Italian suits and have watches worth more than the average youths yearly salary. The show centers around a young man with no income wasting away in a small room that costs a pittance to rent, with nearly no belongings, the only decorations to his borrowed home being a collection of Mercedes car emblems from the vehicles he vandalizes, and a poster with a governmental slogan used to shrug responsibility for correcting the economy onto the citizen.

“The Future is in Our Hands”

The show is memorable, it keeps attention and deserves plentiful rewatches. I spent nine episodes on the edge of my seat watching a man play Pachinko in this, and loved it.

But it was never popular, and even today more than a decade later, it is not accessible media to any outside of Japan, even the manga version has only got three volumes (Less than half) translated officially. Because it's Ugly.

We don’t put much value on Ugly Art. We easily look away from anything outside of conventional standards of beauty, and with as much media to look at in our lives it doesn’t feel like missing out on anything to turn off something grotesque and look at what we are used to instead.

But what if it is ugly on purpose? I chose Kaiji as my example because it is one of my favorite pieces of media as of late, but also because it has to be Ugly, it HAS to look rough and jagged, because it IS a rough and jagged world. People are cruel and willing to stab a man in the back, people will lie to and cheat you on a whim and drown you for their own benefit. The Art reflects the values, and lack of, in the media. Characters are drawn with thick sharp outlines and bodily flaws are magnified and exaggerated, making the black-heartedness of everyone in the world more apparent, including our protagonists.

Ugly Art serves a purpose of its own, but this purpose is no different than any heartfelt medium. To break the mold, to stand out, be different, to get across your message and feelings. By refusing Ugly Art for the sake of its differentiation from the more common or traditional media in its field, we have shut away a world from ourselves, lost out on an unquantifiable amount of potential.

Claymation will inspire thoughts in your mind of movies you have seen as a child, Chicken Run or Wallace and Gromit, and many people will remember those fondly, as a product of the time and forgive it as such for the awkward uncanny effect it can have. Then they will no longer consider claymation or stop motion media, perhaps they will look away from a new movie for no other reason than this. Isle of Dogs, for instance.

A youtube account, Takena, is a longstanding and still likely unknown now creator of cinematic masterpieces, less than ten minutes at a time. Takena makes claymation short form horror films ranging from the campy pleasures of Chainsaw Maid, involving a young woman in a maid outfit running down zombies with a chainsaw, to Pussycat, which has one of the single most disturbing lingering shots in the genre. This is Art, these videos do invoke carnal emotions and apprehensive or elating reactions in the viewer, and yet again, this is Ugly. As it needs to be. The heart stopping anxiety that you’ll feel on seeing a drugged woman faint before her enceinte assaulter is infinitely enhanced by the unmolded lumpy nature of the medium, and would not carry near the same weight were it performed in a more conventional medium or even with more conventional habits of this same media.

And this is not even to state that Ugly Art needs be utilizing its Ugliness for effect. What value do we lose in Art by not being beautiful? It is not the sole purpose of Art to be pleasant to look at. We don’t create just for others to look at our work and appreciate it for a purely aesthetic validity.

Art is for the creator to express themselves. Emotionally, Idealistically, Politically. For social value and to convey their opinions or desires, dreams they can’t actualize alone in the world. We use Art to put ourselves out there in the world, or to find others like ourselves, or to make some call to action or radicalize others. We use Art to educate, and to complain, criticize, love, and to appreciate other Artists.

Art is not all meant to be a Mona Lisa and Artists are not supposed or need to all be Da Vinci. It does not mean to be a failure if you create Ugly Art, you do not NEED to improve your visual aesthetical prowess to be a “Real Artist” so long as you are able to make a piece of Art that you find value in, that you put yourself in, your heart, your opinion and your beliefs. No Art is more beautiful than that which is meaningful to the creator and touching the hearts of another like companion. The point of Art is to bare yourself to another, something that can be done without beauty, without convention or forcibly exacting your work into the narrow constraining box of what is “An acceptable level of talent to be an Artist”

In this modern day we are looking at a new trend of “AI generated ‘Art’” which threatens not only Artists and their livelihoods, the security of their employment and their futures, but also the potential Artist of the future. We see people out in the world who want to be an Artist, but live with the fear that they will not be able to match the expectation of creating something traditionally beautiful. Being an Artist to these individuals, who have had the rejection of Ugly Art burned into their minds as the only possibility, carries a weight of looking forwards to years and years of study and practice to create the media they wish, to put what they envision to paper, which is unbearable to them in the face of a program which can attempt to make what they wish, for them. You need only put in the prompt words you think will create the Art you wish for, and the names and works of an Artist that you find the work of beautiful (But don’t respect enough to not steal from,) and then you have a priceless piece of work. Or one without value. You might have something beautiful, after enough attempts on the program, but to others, it may be empty. After all, a robot does not convey; Non Habet Animum, the emotions, values, beliefs, and convictions of the Artist who paints their painstaking creations themselves.

Even Ugly Art, amateurish and unpolished, rugged, jagged thick lines and error, carries the weight of the Artist. We should not reject our Ugliness, it is our most human quality. We should create Ugly Art, we should consume and cherish it as anything beautiful, for the work is meaningful, it is matter. Make your Art, share, and let it be Ugly without shame.

#Art #ugly art #Artist #opinion piece #Artpunk #ArtpunkINTR #small creator #writer #kaiji ultimate survivor #ai art debate

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lea-panthera · 2 years

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Here's the second part!

Chapter 4: Gone

Alya rushes to the Dupain-Cheng bakery excitedly. She’d deciphered a new part of the grimoire, one that had detailed the possible upgrades for the Fox Miraculous, and she couldn’t wait to tell Marinette.

She pulls the door open and stops at the counter where Mrs. Cheng is giving a customer some change.

“Hi, Mrs. Cheng! Is Marinette home?” Alya asks, bouncing in excitement.

“Hello, Alya, dear. She should be in her room,” replies Mrs. Cheng good-naturedly.

Alya thanks her and runs up the stairs. She opens the trapdoor and lets herself in.

“Hey, girl!” she sing-songs, closing the trapdoor. “You won’t believe-“

She realizes that Marinette’s not in her room and deflates slightly.

Maybe she’s patrolling today, Alya thinks. She’s going to sit on Marinette’s chair when she spies something on the desk. Her eyes widen in horror.

“No,” she says aloud, running over to take a closer look at the ladybug earrings on the desk. She takes them and watches with growing horror as the studs turn amber and Tikki flies out with a somber expression on her face.

“No! She wouldn’t!” Alya cries, backing away from Tikki. She falls to the ground.

“Alya…” starts Tikki.

“NO!” Alya yells. She looks at the kwami. “She’s coming back. She has to come back!”

Trixx flies out of Alya’s purse to see what all the commotion’s about. The kwami looks at the earrings, Tikki, and the kwamis who have exited the miracle box, before putting it all together and gasping.

Wayzz puts a hand on Alya's shoulder. "Perhaps the note the guardian left you will explain things a bit better."

Alya looks back at the desk. Two small folded pieces of paper are on it, one labeled "Alya" and the other labeled "Cat Noir". She picks up the one labeled with her name, unfolds it, and begins to read.

To my dearest friend Alya:

I know this is sudden, but I needed to leave for reasons I can’t tell you(at least for now), and I don't have much time. I’m not sure when or if I’ll come back. I need you to do damage control in the meantime. Tell the reporters and media that Ladybug has left for an urgent secret mission. Take any Miraculous related stuff in my room and hide it in yours. Continue keeping my identity secret, but you can tell Cat Noir(he’ll probably figure it out anyway when both me and Ladybug disappear at the same time). Please give him the note on my desk with his name on it. I’ve also left Tikki and the ladybug miraculous behind, because the world will need Scarabella again.

The situation is much bigger than you can imagine, Alya. Keep the miraculouses safe. I know it’s a lot to ask you, but I trust you. You’re my sister in all but name and blood, and I know you can do it. I have faith in you.

Love,

Marinette

Alya presses a hand against her mouth to stifle a sob. “Sh-She says she doesn’t know if she’ll be back. Is she…is she leaving forever?”

Tikki looks away. “We don’t know. And we were forbidden from talking about where she went and why.”

“I don’t get it,” Alya sniffs, sadly clipping on the ladybug earrings. “She was fine today at schoo-“

She stops as she realizes something.

“This isn’t about…Lila, is it?”

Tikki tries to say something, but all that comes out of her mouth is bubbles. The kwami hangs her head. “I can’t confirm or deny anything related to her disappearance, Alya. I’m sorry.”

Alya gets up, wiping her eyes. “It’s okay, Tikki. Besides, Marinette wouldn’t have left behind the ladybug miraculous and run away just because Lila won’t stop tormenting her. She’s stronger than that.”

Tikki smiles softly.

Alya turns to her. “Tikki, spots on!”

She transforms into Scarabella, tucks the miracle box under her arm, and opens the trapdoor leading to the balcony. She looks at Trixx. "Hide in my hair."

Trixx does so, and Scarabella jumps out the trapdoor and off the balcony. As she races home, she types out a message to Cat Noir, holding back fresh tears.

Chapter 5: The Message

"Plagg, you're on your sixth wheel of camembert already," Adrien says exasperatedly.

"So?" asks the kwami, taking another bite.

Adrien shoots him a deadpan look. "Keep up the progress, and you'll go through your stash before I can refill it. That means possibly an entire day of cheddar for you."

"Hmph!" harrumphs Plagg, and he turns his back on Adrien, looking out the window. Then he frowns. "Hey, isn't that Scarabella?"

Adrien runs over to the window just in time to see the red-and-black-spotted hero run across a nearby rooftop and jump over to the next, carrying something under her arm. A very familiar something.

Adrien gasps. “Isn’t that the Miracle Box?”

Plagg swishes his tail. “Yep.” He gulps down the rest of his camembert.

Adrien narrows his eyes. “This cat smells a rat. Plagg, claws out!”

“Aw, come on!” Plagg moans as he’s sucked into Adrien’s ring. Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and is about to jump out his window when he hears a ding from his baton, indicating that he has a message. He opens up his screen to read it.

From: Scarabella (sent five minutes ago)

Meet me on the roof of Tour Montparnasse ASAP

Please.

It’s urgent.

Cat Noir’s frown deepens, and he heads toward the indicated spot.

When Scarabella arrives, he’s pacing back and forth. He looks at her, his expression neutral. “I got your message. What’s going on? Where’s Ladybug?”

Scarabella bites her lip and swallows hard. Pull yourself together, Scarabella.

Cat Noir’s expression changes to one of concern. “Scarabella? What’s wrong?”

That does it for her. She bursts into tears and hugs him tight around the waist. “She’s gone!” she sobs. “She’s gone and I don’t know where!”

“W-w-what?” Cat Noir gasps, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back to look him in the eyes. “What did you say?”

“Ladybug’s gone,” she weeps, covering her face with her hands.

“No,” Cat Noir murmurs, letting go of Scarabella and taking steps backward. His eyes are wide with horror, disbelief, and shock, and his claws run through his hair, making it seem wilder than it was before. “No! She can’t be gone!”

He races off the roof and jumps over to the next rooftop. “My Lady!” He bounds over to the next roof, and then the next, and so on, crying out for his partner.

“Cat!” Scarabella yells after him, her voice hoarse from her own sobbing. “Cat Noir!” She takes out her yoyo and swings after him, landing right in front of the frantic hero. “Cat, she’s not here.”

“She’s here! She has to be! I just need to find-“

“CAT NOIR, YOU SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW!” she screams. Cat Noir stares at her, shocked.

“Do you think I didn’t look for her already? She’s my sister in all but name, Cat Noir,” Scarabella cries. “I looked for her for two hours. I’ve scoured the entire city to find her. All your usual places, all her secret getaway spots, every single nook and cranny in Paris. All of them, and she wasn’t there.”

Hearing this, Cat Noir sinks to the ground, weeping. “Why? Why? Why did she leave? Why did she leave me?”

Scarabella’s heart breaks for him. She sits down next to him, rubbing his back as they both cry. By the time their sobs reduce to sniffles, it’s sunset.

She opens up her yoyo, pulls out Marinette’s letter to Cat Noir, and gives it to him. “Here. Read this.”

He takes it from her, wiping his eyes.

To my wonderful, brave, selfless, dorky partner:

Let’s make one thing clear: I’m NOT abandoning you, Cat Noir. I’m just temporarily(as far as I can tell) leaving because of…outside circumstances. Don’t worry about me. I can’t say any specifics for now, but based on what little information I’ve been given so far, you’re likely to be pulled into this mess at some point anyway, so you’ll find out soon enough. There’s so many things I want to say to you, kitty, but so little time.

But first: I need you and Scarabella to tell the media and reporters that Ladybug is currently on a secret mission. I’ve given Scarabella permission to tell you my identity, and I’m giving you both permission to exchange secret identities as well. Be there for Scarabella, like you’re always there for me.

I feel like I never gave you enough appreciation, kitty. Nor did anyone else, really. But here it is:

Cat Noir, you’re the greatest partner I could’ve ever asked for. When I nearly quit being Ladybug after my initial failure with Stoneheart, it was you who encouraged me to continue wearing the mantle. Despite our fights and my rejections, you have stayed by my side ever since the beginning. I used to think you were just an outrageous flirt, but, over time, I’ve learned to see past your playful exterior and I’ve found one of the kindest, sweetest boys I’ve ever met. And I believe that if I hadn’t already fallen for someone before I discovered that side of you, I’d be head over heels in love with you, too.

Love,

Your Lady

Cat Noir has to bite his lip to prevent himself from sobbing again. He looks up from the letter to Scarabella, his breathing ragged in his effort to hold back more tears. “Who is she?”

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

-End part 2-

#mlb fanfic #miraculous ladybug #multiverse au #miraculous au #alya cesaire #adrien agreste #a demonslayer's tale

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female-eren · 2 years

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I stumbled across your post about how unless someone is jewish you wouldn’t hear what they would have to say about aot being antisemitic, and that’s kind of the approach that I took where for months I only listened to and read jewish people have conversations about aot. From what I’ve seen on twitter, tiktok, and tumblr, some of aot’s plotlines are antisemitic whether Isayama intended it to be or not. Also, one person said that unless someone is jewish they shouldn’t be using jewish oppression as a plotline or an inspiration for a plotline because it’s simply not their place, which makes sense. That being said, I’ve seen that some jewish fans of aot stopped interacting with the media altogether, and some people who haven’t seen aot and don’t want to, which is fair. But I’ve also seen a lot of jewish aot fans continue to create in the fandom but face a lot of disrespect from aot whenever they speak on being critical of the antisemitism in the manga. One creator I now follow who is jewish and studied jewish history extensively said that maybe one way isayama could have avoided being antisemitic is to not make the titan ability (which comes off as a metaphor for blood libel) an exclusively eldian blood power, and wrote it so that the marleyans used that as propaganda but in reality anyone could turn titan under different circumstances, which honestly I agree with. I’d tell you who these people are or like give you their @‘s but from what I’ve seen the shitty side of aot fans start being antisemitic and hateful to them on social media whenever their aot analysis posts get popular within the fandom.

That's a fair point and I do think that would've been interesting for the story. I really like the aspect of propaganda, both from Marley and from the Eldian restorationists. The blood libel aspect is a fair and serious criticism I've seen from Jewish creators/people in the fandom too. For me, as a non-Jewish person (which I recognize as an aspect that might make me ignorant in these discussions) the idea of Eldians being the only ones capable of turning into titans is important for my own reading of the story, which parallells female oppression. That is neither the standard nor the intended reading, but it's mine lol.

I don't think antisemitism was intended, personally, but I can definitely both see and agree that the idea of "people with *specific ability that can be read as blood libel* destroy the world through that specific ability" has antisemitic connotations. I also hate the ending for unrelated reasons but I think especially the ending really hammered in something it should've avoided. A lot of paralells to Jewish oppression were deliberate (arm bands, ghettos) which I believe Isayama has said was to convey the horror of the situation, but it still means there could have been more care and thought into what kind of portrayal these themes got.

I don't believe this means a piece of media should not be allowed to exist. However, the bullying and harasssment of Jewish critics or even fandom members is totally unacceptable (and most don't even want other people to stop watching/reading completely, just hear what they're saying and perhaps turn a critical eye to the show once in a while, which I can def get behind).

#attack on titan #antisemitism

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cosmogenous · 4 months

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spoilers for Dream Scenario (2023)

I just saw Dream Scenario with a friend and her bf and it was actually a rlly poignant film. It has Nic Cage playing an evolutionary biologist who's feeling kind of stagnant in his career & under appreciated in his field.

All of a sudden he starts appearing in people's dreams, just standing there while nightmare scenarios take place which he feels quite insecure abt, causing him to become a bit of a showboat about the whole "popping up in peoples dreams" phenomenon & enjoying the attention of his online notoriety even if it feels un-earned.

As the plot progresses, his actions in the dreams start to mirror his emotional state (e.g. he has an idea stolen and people's dreams about him become horrifically violent).

He gets so swept up in the media phenomenon & dealing with the public's perception whilst trying to illicit sympathy that he further alienates the people he's caused harm to & neglects to be considerate to his family's need for security & emotional support.

It ends with him reconnecting with his wife after he's no longer in the public eye & has stopped appearing in so many people's dreams. I think it's meant be a representation of how Nic Cage's publicity has affected his life.. right down to having strangers break into his home.

In my opinion it's a good commentary on how anyone in a highly demanding career can affect their loved ones by emotionally regulating in unhealthy ways

It also touches on how trying to seem invulnerable and be inauthentic around people still rubs off on them subconciously, affects how they treat you, in turn affecting how you view yourself & leading to an alienating cycle of miscommunication.

I was expecting it to just be a silly shallow comedy horror but it turned out to be a rlly introspective & heartfelt movie all round (a bit of cynicism abt capitalism and psuedoscience thrown in the mix for good measure).

Nic Cage did a great job of portraying the character, perhaps bc it's story that he rlly resonates with personally.

If you're not too sensitive to slight scares it's a v enjoyable watch and would be highly relatable to anybody in academia or the arts or anything similarly stressful, who's self esteem fluctuates with how they feel abt their performance at work.

Even if you think I've spoiled too much of the plot you should still watch it if you like surreal a24 stuff. honestly nearly cried at the ending

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withlibertyandjusticeforall · 8 months

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lol

i saw my uncle replied to a post-- and he is like pro russian.

I was really shaking at confrontation-- literally shaking I could hardly type or think of the right word when dad asked me how to donate to Ukraine for my birthday (he doesn't have paypal so he asked how to give me some money for it and he gave me some cash to give to paypal! i hope i remember to send some cash to United Help Ukraine-- should right after this)

i didn't reply to his other replies after i saw his first one after I posted something about the horrors in Chechnya that Anna Politkovskaya wrote. he wrote something about Ukraine being part of the military industrial complex to sell weapons or whatever. Then he wrote some other things under other Ukraine things but i didn't even look at them bc i was afraid of not sleeping. such things literally keep me awake (and this week is my birthday weekend, going to bnb across the state)

I posted this: https://www.facebook.com/reel/6796707783756556 the old ladies in russia trying to save America and commented: "Putin's regime really has created an alternate universe for these poor people"

and my uncle wrote:

On the other hand, we live in a universe where our government tells us we need to get vaccinated with something that has only been tested on mice. And has to erect fences and install government troops around the capital for an inauguration. (Was that even necessary for Lincoln's second inauguration? Not sure )

I WASN"T TALKING ABOUT THE US! I know he's against Ukraine and trying to divert and talk about conspiracy theories. and it's so ridiculous i didn't feel scared anymore just. Sigh. so done.

so I replied:

I think russia is a bit further on the WORSE side of this. if you're idolizing russia you're far far down the wrong path. this attempt to divert with a version of whataboutism is pretty weak. Russian universe is much more scary if you actually look at it-- where people are jailed for 5 years (or much longer!!) for a social media post. to imply the US is worse is ridiculous. we of course have a lot of things we need to change. but we were not forced by gunpoint to get a vaccination. a vaccine was needed quickly, that's why it was out there faster through a new method. it has been working; ask JoJo. and it was obvious there needed to be troops to protect the capital-- look what happened (perhaps there should have been more to protect Lincoln-- look what happened to him! or are you forgetting that lol). There obviously weren't enough to protect the capitol because random people were roaming around it hunting down lawmakers because they didn't like their politics. > in Russia-- this would NEVER have happened. Putin would have killed you where you stood. THAT's the difference between the USA and russia (deliberate decapitalization). if you think the US is just as repressed as russia, you're deluded.I'm not going to keep arguing with you; you're obviously far far down the rabbit hole or whatever it is. You're doing what russian propaganda wants. it's reached you as well, who actually thinks Ukraine is worse than russia. Ukraine was trying to get further from what russia has become. that's why they attacked. that's why they brutally rape and torture the Ukrainians who resist. They rape and torture Russians who dare to speak out against the war on social media. Perhaps you should go to russia and see how free they are. it would probably be free to you because they'd use you as a bright propaganda tool. but watch out. if you get out of line, putin will not hesitate to kill you like he killed Prigozhin and many others with.... "accidental" deaths. "accidental" poison.US does have its problems but it is MUCH more free than russia, and so is Ukraine. Ukraine MUST remain free and I will never stop supporting them, so it's useless for you to try to stop me or divert me.

#Ukraine #russia #facebook #silliness #so i won't support Ukraine because - what. US has covid vaccinations?#what is this?

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md3artjournal · 2 years

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I tried listening to a video essay by a channel I've never heard of before. But I had to stop watching when it got pretentious. And by "pretentious", I mean elitist and exclusionary. So I'm annoyed and going to ramble like the idiot that I am.

They started dumping on pop up Instagram "museums" and how they provide "experiences" to interact with, more than "works to marvel at". Who are we to dismiss and invalidate the emotional experiences of others? Maybe being immersed in art and that experience of interacting with it gave them a profound emotion? You don't know! People are so different, you never know what changes someone's world view! Maybe it was just what they needed to break a long streak of several weeks of anxiety or depression! Gawd, it really shows when people who have not had their emotions and personal experiences, repeatedly invalidated throughout their lives, try to talk about what experiences are worth validating and what should be dismissed. This is just elitism. It's the opposite of empathy. It's not any kind of furthering of humanity's quality; it's the opposite.

Earlier, I saw a video essay, maybe this same one, start by discrediting the quality of the art world by showing a Spongebob Squarepants painting being sold at a fancy auction. Though I didn't grow up with Spongebob and have not nostalgia or attachments to that intellectual property, as a geek, I am deeply offended. For all my life, I and many people have had our deepest emotional experiences and most transformative thoughts, while interacting with media and indeed art from pop culture, but because it happens to come from pop culture, insecure people try to prove how "adult" they are by invalidating it as "art". And we took it on the chin and inverted it, taking pride in "comics belong in the gutter". Nevermind that the stories I've cried the most at were in comic book pages or animation. But then the more elitist notions started dying out with the generations, and it was the childhood geeks who grew up to take positions of power and authority, and finally "prove" pop culture media---and more importantly and implicitly, our emotional experiences and ideas shared through that media---was indeed actual ART. (Though I will admit, it it a little sad to think about how earning large amounts of money is the way that we had to legitimize the things we care about and our emotional/mental experiences gained through those media. In the end, money makes the world go 'round…for now.) All these stuffy elitists forget that the thing they care about also just make them geeks for whatever it is. Or more probably, pretending that legitimacy is only awarded to "adult" things of "worth", is just a pretense for moving money around and status for their individual, selfish egos.

It just feels like a double whammy, being reminded of this whole argument again, while in the middle of the A.I. generated art discussion, bringing up discussions which also invalidate people's personal emotional/mental experiences with art. The question "What is Art?", is bringing back so many discussions that (best case scenario) inadvertently imply an elitist view of art. People talk about "only art made with intention is real Art". That invalidates the profound emotional experiences that people have when they see a vista of nature, that one canvas of remnant paint brush cleanings that gave a judge such a profound experience that he gave it an award, or even that pair of glasses left on a gallery floor as a prank among other ready-built art. Prank or not, unintentional or not, it's really sad to invalidate the feelings and thoughts of people who looked at those things and experienced something profound, personal, and perhaps life changing, or at least a reprieve from the horror of living. Same for pop culture media. Sure, a lot is steeped in greed and capitalism seeping into so much of those creative processes, but even that doesn't deny the stories, thoughts, ideas, and emotions conveyed or inspired by experiencing those things. Everyone is just trying to police what people are allowed to have profound experiences with, and it's just so disgustingly elitist and exclusionary. Why can't someone go outside and look up at the sky and experience something profound, without someone saying "that's not valid enough for significance because of this, this, and this"?

And not just the experience of the viewer, but also the experiences of the artists are being constricted by this elitism. What? I'm not allowed to have "happy accidents" play into my art? Every little bit as to be done "with intention" for it to be valid? My first art pieces that I won awards for, came from intuitive hand strokes, where I didn't have everything planned. What about my monoprints, where I let ink fall randomly?

I know that in A.I. art discussions, people are trying to list "qualifiers" for "real Art", in order to protect their livelihoods as artists in our money-based hellscapes. But please be aware of the unintended consequences of these constricted definitions of art. I mean, a toddler or animal making finger paintings, may not make are on the difficulty or skill level of a trained or home-honed artist, but there is worth in protecting the idea that "everyone is born an artist". Art as inherent to Humanity and natural personal expression, is something to maintain. Whether art is being use to convey something to someone else, or for the artist to gain catharsis through the act of expressing outward, I believe that these are all important psychological functions to our being, and thus, should be cherished by Humanity as a whole. Trying to invalidate some but not others, trying to sequester certain Art with a capital "A", is the same as saying some human experiences are less human than others, less valid, some emotions are less valid than others…and who are we choosing those for? The answer to "why" is scary, and something I don't want to encourage.

Personally, I think that the resulting art of any process or accident has to be considered valid, in order to respect the emotions and experiences of any possible person who may feel something profound through it. And if we're not prioritizing Empathy, then what the hell is Humanity good for? I mean, even if a toddler or animal finger paints without really know what they're doing, the resulting art can still represent a connection to the viewer. Sentimentality is not a sign of low value or immaturity. And disregarding sentiment is not a sign of "adulthood" or "maturity". In fact, such disregard is a refutation of Humanity's worth, in my opinion.

But at the same time, I don't consider typing text prompts into an A.I. the same skill as someone who can illustrate, sculpt, or digitally paint. Maybe it's similar to conceptual art or ready-made sculpture. Maybe it will find it's place in that family. But as long as people are defining "Artists" as "illustrators who had to hone their craft in drawing for a long time, while applying lots of concentration while preforming their skill", then no, I don't think that people typing A.I. prompts are "Artists".

Still, typing prompts IS NOT the same SKILL as illustration. Just like illustration is not the same SKILL as photography. Or digital lineart is not the same skill as inking lineart. (Incidentally, I was so surprised a few years back, to learn that digital artists/painters also call outlining their artwork "inking". They don't use ink! lol I thought it was called "doing your linework", or "doing lineart", or "outlining your art". lol) In essence, if people are going to be judging competitions on skill or admiring artwork for the skill involved, then A.I. art needs to be separated from hand-drawn illustration. For example, my father loves realistically styled art, because of the skill involved in replicated reality. (I prefer stylization, because I rather feel something, regardless of realism; plus, I get enough reality already.) A photograph could very easily and more quickly generate the realism that my father enjoys. But it would not represent the skill that he wants to marvel at and be impressed with. A.I. generated art should not be considered with the same SKILL as hand-drawn art (including digital painting). ESPECIALLY since it seems that a lot of A.I. generators are feeding stolen artwork into their databanks to glean from. But in a world where A.I. does not steal from smaller artists and the "upload inspiration image" option doesn't exist in these generators, the resulting images can be admired just like any other, but still should not be taken as representing the same skill as someone making art by hand. And I think that time, effort, and a representation of years of honing should factor into value and worth. After all, I can get a $15 print of an artist's work, but the original work itself is going to be worth much more, because it wasn't just spewed out by a printer, but because it represents all the effort and time put into it by the artist. And if we don't value time, then what is Humanity so hung up over mortality for? And don't tell me that humans don't value effort, because that effort tells a story, and humans have always been fascinated by stories. Maybe someday, someone will use A.I. generated art as pieces to telling a worthwhile story, inspiring profound experiences. But as long as we are simply using A.I. art to marvel at the skill in creating an image, which is what is implied whenever a prompt writer calls themselves an "Artist", then we're just gaping at a paintbrush that's still waiting to make something. (Or maybe we're gaping at haphazard drops of paint onto a canvas…Which might reveal something about the ridiculousness of art being given worth SOLELY through attachment to the brand name of an artist.) Maybe artists would have been more accepting of A.I. generated art if the people saying "Look what I made!", weren't calling themselves "Artists". (And if the A.I. generators weren't stealing art.) Because maybe someday it will be recognized as some kind of skill(?) to write prompts and tweak dials---But it is NOT the same SKILL as drawing by hand.

But then again, I've always been bothered by this assumption that "Artists" are always illustrators…Or that Art has to be created by---can ONLY be created by "Artists" with a capital "A". Again, that limits the legitimacy of anyone who creates and the experiences of anyone who feels something worthwhile through any number of things. I should be allowed the cherish the worth of experience and emotion I get from geek media, or a parent through their child's fingerpaintings. Everyone can and should be an artist. And all things CAN be art. By that, I mean everyone should try expressing themselves and anything can incite a profound thought or emotional experience.

#purpose of art #what is art for #a.i. generated #imo #random ramblings #venting #please ignore my idiocy

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years

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Sex Tape

Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader

Request: “ If you take requests, would you consider doing johnny reaction to like theirs sex tape getting leaked? Reader may also be a celebrity or not. Whatever you prefer “ - @fanficshitandother

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut

Word Count: 1800

A/N: Sorry this one is so short. I was having a harder time writing it than I thought I would. I hope you enjoy!

__________________________________

Shit.

You knew this was a bad idea when he suggested it but no. He just had to have this video “for when he was away filming.” It always ended like this, though, right? It always started out as fun and games until bam! Celebrity sex tape leaked!

The gossip talk show video that your best friend had sent you was still playing on your phone and you watched in silent horror as the red haired woman talked about your sex life to her male counterpart as if she had any actual right to have an opinion. In the top corner was a picture of you and Johnny at the red carpet for the premier of the Crimes of Grindelwald, his arm around your waist and both of you smiling for the paparazzi pictures. “Okay, guys. You are going to want to hear this,” She started, clasping her absurdly long acrylic-clad fingers together and holding onto her knees, “So there has been yet another sex tape leaked and I want you to guess who’s it is.” She looked over to her co-host. He had a push broom mustache that was bleached blonde to match his hair.

The man hummed before waving his hand, which also donned long yellow acrylics, “I swear, Laurel, if this is another Kardashian or Paris Hilton tape, I’m gonna scream. That’s such old news.”

“Actually, it’s someone that I certainly didn’t expect. Johnny Depp and his wife, Y/N L/N.” She dropped the news and the co-star’s mouth dropped.

“Are you serious? Like Jack Sparrow, Sweeney Todd, Willy Wonka, Johnny Depp?” He asked in total shock, “I didn’t expect that either! But you know what? I feel like he’d be really good in bed.”

He and Laurel both laughed, “You’re so bad!” She squealed, hitting him with the paper notes in her hand, “But, between you and me,” She leaned in, as if she was telling an actual secret that wasn’t being broadcast on the internet, “I did see it.”

“And?”

“It was pretty hot, I can’t lie. That Y/N is a very lucky girl indeed.” The pair giggled like a pair of school girls.

You were absolutely mortified. How did this happen? How many people had seen it? Who had seen it? Oh God… all you could imagine was your family stumbling across the video or, debatably worse, Johnny’s kids. This had to be one of the worst moments of your life.

You turned off the video and quickly dialed your husband. “Hello, love.” He greeted cheerily on the other end. The faint sound of cars passing in the background told you he was probably driving home from the meeting he had been at.

“Did you see it? Did you hear it?” You asked frantically.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“The video! The video got leaked!” You ran your fingers through your hair messily, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

“What video?” He questioned, not sounding like he fully understood what had happened, but then you could almost feel the weight of realization falling on him, “Wait, our video?”

“Yes! Our video!” You were yelling at this point, not at him but at the situation and thankfully he understood that.

“Okay, okay. We’ll- Hang on my manager is calling. Probably to tell me about it. I’ll be home in five minutes. I love you.” He signed off your call quickly before hanging up without giving you the chance to respond.

While you waited for him to get there, you spiraled down the rabbit hole that was the tabloids and social media. Your phone buzzed off the charts as everyone from your sister to Helena Bonham Carter called you to ask if you were okay. Of course, you weren’t. But it was one phone call from a former college roommate, Sheila, had really gotten your blood boiling.

“It’s okay! If anything, this is just going to make you more famous! Look at all the other celebs who’ve had their sex tapes leaked. They’re like, super famous.” Sheila sounded more excited than she should have, which certainly made you question her motives behind calling you in the first place. Since marrying Johnny, you’d had the unfortunate displeasure of having to cut a few people off from your past who had randomly called you up after years of little to no contact, asking more favors in the movie industry, money, or even just for the clout of saying they knew you. There really was such a downside to this whole marrying famous person thing that nobody ever really talked about - not that you would take it back, though, of course. You loved Johnny more than anything.

Still, when the words left her mouth, you felt a flash of anger swell up, “Contrary to what a lot of people might believe, being famous actually kind of sucks,” You spat angrily, “And call me crazy, but I don’t exactly feel thrilled at knowing the whole world as access to a video of my naked ass!”

“At least it’s a good naked ass, though! Your boobs are looking pretty good too. Did you get them done?” She asked bluntly, still not a care to be heard in her voice. You swore you could almost detect a fake valley girl accent too.

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the words coming from her voice, “I can’t believe you.” Without giving her a chance to respond, you clicked the off button before flipping her off through the screen, though you knew she couldn’t see it. The audacity of some people.

The front door swung open, drawing your attention as Johnny hurried into the house, setting his bag down by the front door. “How bad is it?” You asked, knowing his manager must have told him the full extent.

“Do you want the truth?” Johnny saw as panic and humiliation swept across your face, knowing that perhaps that wasn’t the best way to break it to you that it was pretty bad. He stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms, “I told Harrison to take ‘em down. Whenever he found one, he said he’d get it deleted.

You sighed defeatedly, “That doesn’t stop the fact that a bunch of people already saw it.” Your arms wrapped around Johnny’s torso and you allowed your head to fall against his chest, trying to calm yourself with his scent- exotic spicy cologne and old books.

His large hand came to stroke through your hair, “That is true,” He conceded with a heavy breath, “But, it also means that fewer and fewer people will continue to see it.” There was a pause in which neither of you said anything, only took a few minutes to hold onto each other while you thought about the future now, “Y’know, I can’t help but feel like this is partly my fault. I shouldn’t have asked to make the video. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You shook your head in disagreement, “I agreed to do it too. It’s on both of us. In retrospect, we should have put it on an actual VHS tape or something that would be more difficult to get into the tabloid’s hands.”

You were tired of this - of this constant running from the vultures that prayed off your every misstep just to turn them against you and create headlining stories. You felt like you couldn’t even breathe without a scandal unless the media allowed it. You were just grateful that you happened to marry one of the most private actors in Hollywood, knowing that whatever pressure you felt, more public figures like Angelina Jolie had it much worse. Still, something inside you stirred, a decision that you’d stop living in fear.

Johnny pulled back and gave you that infamous cocked eyebrow look of wonder, one that you’d mostly seen him use as Jack Sparrow. Little did everyone know, it was a gesture he’d picked up on doing in real life as well. “Do we even have a VHS player anymore?”

You chuckled and buried your head back into his white shirt, “I don’t even know. I feel like there must be one laying around somewhere. And if not, I’ll go down to a pawn shop and pick one up just for you to use while filming.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” You leaned back, pulling on his shirt to bring him down closer to your level, “That if we’re going to be making you another one of these videos, it’s gonna be on something that stays only between us.”

Your husband nearly choked on air, “Another one? After what just happened?”

“Only if you want to and only if it stays on something physical like a CD or VHS that we can mutually agree to burn and destroy if anything happens.” You giggled and Johnny joined in with a low chuckle as well, “But… the video was leaked. We knew that was a risk when we made it. But, y’know what? I’m tired of living in fear of the paparazzi and public. They’ve already seen us fuck. There’s not much else we’ve got to lose.”

His dark eyes flashed with mischief before he took off in a light jog down the hall without a word. You followed him, “Where are you going?” You giggled, turning the corner to find him digging through your little Harry Potter closet under the stairs.

When he stood up, he shook his long hair out of his eyes messily and held up an old tape recorder that had to be at least twenty years old. Johnny swayed towards you, jokingly flirtatious as he spoke, “Well, Mrs. Depp, it would seem that you’re in luck because your husband likes to hoard old shit.”

The grey and black machine seemed to stare at you and some hesitation set in again but then you remembered what you’d said: I’m tired of living in fear… there’s not much else we’ve got to lose.

Johnny flicked open the side compartment and his eyes opened in surprise to find a tape still in there. He lifted it from the slide and looked it over, shocked to see that it appeared to be an unused blank tape, “Well, well, looks like we’re in luck.”

Biting your lip, you looked up at him with those eyes before grabbing his hand and running upstairs to your bedroom, dragging him along. “The world thinks they’ve seen us fuck. They only got a preview.”

“Only a preview? I thought we went pretty hard last time?” He countered with a low challenging laugh.

You turned around at the top of the stairs, one hand on the banister as you turned to face him. His body collided with yours, his hand reaching around the small of your back to steady the two of you and you arched your body into his, being sure to brush your body against his groin, “Oh, Johnny… we’re both throwing our backs out tonight.”

#Johnny Depp #johnny depp fanfic #John Shelby #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp imagines

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pretoriafics · 4 years

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Therapy sessions with the devil

I'd did this request yesterday on my Portuguese blog, and I thought that you guys would love it!

Anonymous asks: Y/N is a therapist who works for Vought and is doing a few evaluations on the Super.

Word count: 1.806 Contain: Therapist!Reader x Homelander Warnings: Mention of sexual violence, mention of serial killers, mention of cases of children with psychopathy, mental disorders. +16 only Versão em português aqui PART 2 THE BOYS MASTERLIST

Your profession was gratifying.

You loved the idea of helping people, getting to know each other better, and getting them to learn to deal with life's challenges. For you, being a kind of "confidant", where people could talk about their lives without any judgments, was an honor and your purpose. You believed that it would make the world a better place.

However, it also had its burdens. Some things were difficult to hear, even for you with all your knowledge and professional background. Patients who suffered from sexual violence, for example, demanded of you a stomach that you were not always able to have. It was something you talked to your therapist about, and you kept a mantra in mind: After all, you were still human, and it was okay to feel that way.

And when Vought invited you to work as a therapist for The Seven, you went nuts. It was the chance of a lifetime!

Or, at least, this was what you thought at the beginning.

It was not uncommon for you to hear things that made your stomach a little sick, just like when The Deep told you about the way he “welcomed” Starlight. You felt nauseous but, on the outside, remained impassive, just watching him as a silent request to continue to talk.

All of them were, simply, not only media products but also puppets of the advertising world. You already had some political patients, and in fact, you thought The Seven was a similar case: Both went to that market with the intention, many times, to help people. However, they ended up corrupted in the middle of the road, forgetting their whole purpose in helping others.

You saw a point in common between The Seven: Everyone, with perhaps the exception of Starlight, was too worried about their own egos to be real heroes. They were all too narcissistic.

But Homelander was the worst of them.

The childhood phase was the most important part of a person's life. A traumatic childhood could lead to a troubled adult, as in the case of Mary Bell and Beth Thomas. Homelander's case was no different: his non-affectionate childhood, being raised as a laboratory rat, was the bigger reason to make him that kind of man.

Although at the same time you were fascinated about to study a mind like that - since one of the reasons why you did psychology would be to unveil the secrets of the human mind - each therapy session was daunting and made you rethink your job at Vought.

In short, you were interviewing a serial killer. Easily one of the most cruel and unhealthy.

"Good morning, Homelander." Your voice was soft, just like the smile you gave to the super who just sat on the couch.

"Good morning, Doctor." He returned the smile to you, but the smile on his own way: The corners of your mouth pulled to the side in a smile that you recognized as fake.

"So..." You put your hands on your knee, looking at him with the best receptive look you could pretend. There, in that office, your sessions with Homelander made you feel you deserved an Oscar "How was your week?"

“Well…” He lay down on the couch, his blue eyes staring at the ceiling, and his hands joined in front of his stomach “Nothing new. In fact, he had a little incident with Maeve. Sometimes she is so… pathetic. ”

"What happened?"

It took a while for Homelander to actually get some confidence in you. In fact, he only started telling you things in detail when he realized he could get something out of the sessions. They were productive to him, they made him think. You didn't know if you were thanking God for getting something out of him, or if you should cursing yourself because of the horrors he tells you.

"Maybe you saw something about the 37 Flight on the news."

"The one who had been captured by the terrorists?"

"Exactly! Maeve and I had to rescue the plane. We managed to take down the terrorists, but when I killed the last one, in the Pilot's cabin, I hit the plane's controls with the lasers. And then, the flight was doomed. I told Maeve that our job was done and we should leave, but she was reluctant. He wanted me to save the passengers! ” He laughed, but a natural one. "Can you believe that?"

Oh, it was going to be a long therapy session...

"And what happened next?"

“What did she want me to do? That I fly 137 times from the plane to land? Ah, pathetic, pathetic! ” He shook his head, clearly humorous. "Now, just imagine: You are on a flight with 137 people shouting 'Help, Homelander!', While your stupid partner insists that you should do something to save everyone. I was losing patience so I threatened everyone with my eyes, and they finally settled down. I don't blame them, I mean, they are so vulnerable. They are bugs! ” He looked at you, the corners of his mouth pulled in a fake smile. "No offense."

Homelander was a cold-blooded killer. Not only, but like Ted Bundy, he was a narcissist. He liked the feeling of power that invaded his body when he saw that people feared him, and when he felt that he had the power to decide whether that person would live or not. He didn't mind if killing people just for fun was against the law. Homelander didn't care about the law or any kind of rules. Furthermore, just as Bundy believed he was fully capable of defending himself in his court's judgment and did not need lawyers, Homelander thought he was an incarnate God walking among the 'bugs', simply because he had powers.

"And how do you feel about Maeve?"

“She bothered me a little with the drama on the plane, but that's okay. I am sure that after I spoke to the journalists, near the wreckage of the flight, she understood. This is all going to be an excellent opportunity to make our presence in the army happen. ”

A sociopath.

Empathetic behaviors aren't part of him. He was unable to have that feeling. Self-centered, Homelander was unable to love. The relationship he had with Stiwell, for example, was far from loving. He didn't feel it, quite the opposite: Homelander had a feeling of possession with her. She was his, and nobody else's.

A doubt hammered in your head: Homelander was intending to drop the plane? Your stomach was upset, you felt bad about that therapy session. How could Vought leave someone like him in The Seven?

The answer was simple: They didn't care. Homelander was profitable, and that was all that mattered.

That was one of the times when you thanked God that Homelander was self-centered enough to lie on the couch and just think about your own life, instead of analyzing you and realizing that you were completely terrified. It was as if a misstep, a wrong word, was going to cost his life.

And you would end that today.

You conducted the therapy session normally. In the end, you shook hands with Homelander as you always did and closed the door. Tears invaded your face as you thought of each life that was lost in vain on that flight, and, worse, you were sure that Maeve would tell you about the flight at her therapy session, early next week. In an attempt to calm down, you took some coffee and sat down in front of your MacBook. There, sipping coffee, you wrote your resignation letter.

Alright. You were free.

Or at least this was what you thought.

* * *

Another week has started, and the fact that you worked at Vought made you get a more comfortable office, in addition to increasing your service price. You were ending your day. Your last patient had left the office, and you were about to go home when you heard a familiar voice from your couch.

"I miss you in the tower."

Homelander looked at you with his pairs of sick blue eyes, his fake smile, and his murderous hands behind his body. He was standing next to the couch, and you felt your whole body freeze. A lump formed in your throat, and your hands vibrated in pure dread.

So he would kill you there? In your office?

Trying to take control of the situation, you faked a slight smile.

“Sorry, Homelander. I didn't saw you here. Need something?"

"Actually, I do." He started walking towards you slowly. "I didn't want to end our sessions, so I came to ask you what our new schedule is going to be."

You narrowed your eyes.

"I thought Vought was going to hire someone else to work with The Seven in my place."

“In fact, they put an incompetent in your place. I really prefer that we continue where we left off. ” He stopped in front of you with his smile, his eyes emanating pure insanity "I like our therapy sessions."

“I'm glad that you like my job and that you appreciate our results, Homelander” You gave him a smile, but inside you were still in pure dread “But I don't have appointments available. My schedule filled up easily after I came to this new office. ”

“Oh, but I'm sure you can fit me in your schedule. I can pay you well. ”

How to say no to Homelander without putting your life at risk?

You walked over to your tablet, on your desk. You took it in hand and slid your finger on the screen, analyzing awhile. You didn't need him to tell you that you would be paid well. In fact, you were fully aware of that. The point was that you could exchange all the money in the world to be at peace, without having to deal with Homelander. Without much choice, you concluded that you would reserve a single day for your therapy sessions with him. That way, your head wouldn't get so tired when you still had to deal with other patients.

“Are you available on Friday morning? At nine."

He nodded, giving the same smile he did when he achieved something. One of pure contentment.

"Of course!"

"Great so." You typed 'Homelander' in the space corresponding to the hour. You put the tablet down on the table, next to your MacBook “There, it's done. Friday, at nine in the morning. ”

“Ah, perfect! Thank you. Have a good night."

"Good night, Homelander."

He walked over to your balcony. With a jump, he flew through the sky. You lay on your couch, terrified. Would you never get rid of him?

All that was left for you now was to be the therapist of the incarnate Devil.

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