#been possible pre-parade of providence like...

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

A Parade of Providence haikaveh analysis + predictions

HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO A PARADE OF PROVIDENCE!!! <3 as such I thought it would be fitting to talk about a parade of providence and how this affects Alhaitham and Kaveh's relationship in light of Cyno's story quest 2!

Through Alhaitham’s efforts in researching Sachin’s involvement with Kaveh’s father and repeatedly commenting on Kaveh’s internal conflict, it is established in A Parade of Providence that, ultimately, Alhaitham wants betterment for Kaveh – however, this is at odds with his enjoying of Kaveh, as in, Kaveh being a part of his way of life which he seeks to maintain. If he is direct with Kaveh about his intentions, he risks complete rejection, both in Kaveh rejecting him, and in Kaveh rejecting himself.

Thus, it is evident that a new method of understanding one another must be established – and this is demonstrated in the note Alhaitham writes to Kaveh, in a language only the two know. Kaveh is unable to fully comprehend Alhaitham’s meaning, however, due to his misinterpretation of Alhaitham’s character.

As Kaveh views Alhaitham as an egoist who looks down upon his altruism, all of Alhaitham’s words and actions are interpreted through this lens. However, this event has the potential to cause Kaveh to question this. Not only within Kaveh’s uncertainty of Alhaitham’s intentions regarding the meaning of his notes on the idealist denying themselves happiness, but through Alhaitham’s understanding of their relationship.

Alhaitham states to Kaveh that the issue that they disagree over, is not the “correctness” of their philosophies, as Kaveh believes. There is a silence within the text here, which is cause not only for the player to question, but predominantly Kaveh to question. As Kaveh asserts: “What topic of conversation could be more sacred among scholars than… differing philosophies?”, being that their opposing viewpoints are the basis for their interaction, whereas Alhaitham has initiated the interaction due to informing Kaveh on his findings on Sachin: “I didn’t come here for the conversation. Well, not this one at least”.

The basis of this interaction for Alhaitham is a personal interest in Kaveh, whereas Kaveh believes it to be about their conflicting differences. This sentiment, too, is applicable to the standing of their current relationship, where Alhaitham is personally interested in Kaveh’s existence and all that he offers, whereas Kaveh understands Alhaitham to be averse to the conflicts in their natures. For Alhaitham, then, to state that the reason for their disputes not hinging on the “correctness” of their respective philosophies, is an address to Kaveh for him to question what, then, is the reason for their disputes.

Kaveh has understood the contextual clues which Alhaitham has provided, however, his perception of Alhaitham disallows him from fully understanding. He questions Alhaitham’s intentions in writing him the note; he recognises that Sachin’s research into nihilism do not intersect with Alhaitham’s egoism, and therefore, Alhaitham would have no interest in looking into him, and yet, Alhaitham has done so, only to unveil Sachin’s connection with Kaveh’s father. Kaveh thanks Alhaitham for doing so, however, he has seemingly not truly understood why.

Adding to this, if Alhaitham does not keep Kaveh around out of arguing the “correctness” of his egoism, what is Alhaitham’s reason for doing so? This question is posed for Kaveh to recognise and, eventually, answer. By reflecting on his own perception of Alhaitham, Kaveh is closer to understanding Alhaitham’s intentions, and thus, his own betterment – depending on whether he accepts, or rejects, Alhaitham’s concern. Ultimately, it is Kaveh’s choice whether he seeks to absolve himself from guilt, although Alhaitham is integral as a catalyst.

Communication is the key here, as for Kaveh to better understand Alhaitham, Alhaitham must better express himself in order to truly be heard. This links into the core principle of their characters as mirrors; what they lack in themselves is present in the other. With Kaveh being identified as an empath, he believes good communication is the key to mutual trust, and with Alhaitham viewing conversation as a means to an end, the two have conflicting methods of dialogue, and thus, this results in misunderstanding.

For Alhaitham to effectively convey his meaning, he must do so on Kaveh’s terms. However, such methods of conveying goodwill can be counterproductive due to Kaveh’s internal workings, thus, Alhaitham resorts to actions.

By researching into Sachin, despite his initial disinterest, Alhaitham further expands his view on the world, and his objective truth, through the catalyst of sensibility – Kaveh.

His notes on the idealist denying themselves happiness at the risk of losing themselves to these inherently conflicted ideals resonate with Kaveh due to how he cannot assign a negative intention to Alhaitham’s action. By using less derisive language to convey his meaning, along with an empathetic interpretation of Kaveh’s idealist, this contradicts Kaveh’s perspective of Alhaitham as a detached egoist, and therefore, Alhaitham’s meaning is called into question. Sensibility present in actions appears to be an effective way of Kaveh questioning his perspective of Alhaitham, as this meets Kaveh in how he communicates his care of Alhaitham.

It is relevant to discuss that Kaveh held a gathering for his friends after winning the Interdarshan Championship, and in this, also invited Alhaitham, although he was not present due to him being in Aaru Village. Despite this, Kaveh orders dishes to take home for Alhaitham, which Alhaitham notes to the Traveler. These actions convey Kaveh’s thoughtfulness for others, however, it is noted that this is not necessary to do so in Alhaitham’s case, as Kaveh has established a “mutual” dislike between the two of them. This, however, is established due to Alhaitham’s wounding of Kaveh’s pride, as Kaveh’s feelings towards Alhaitham are inherently more conflicted.

Since Kaveh undertakes these actions out of his sensibility, it is relevant to discuss his critiques on Alhaitham’s chosen separation from others. In this event, Kaveh complains about Alhaitham missing out on the gathering in order to find a “hidey-hole to read in”, only to reveal that his complaint serves as cover for concern, when he states: “You need to change your ways, you know. You can’t survive on books alone”.

This aligns with Kaveh’s critique of Alhaitham’s egoism in terms of separating oneself from others in order to better serve oneself, however, here it is a clear indicator of concern, rather than critique. As Kaveh understands meeting with friends as important to one’s livelihood, by Alhaitham avoiding doing so, he believes Alhaitham serves to damage himself. Sensibility, and the ability to value others’ company, to Kaveh is a means of looking after oneself, and Alhaitham denying this, thus, concerns Kaveh.

This demonstrates that the concern the two have for each other does not stem from their belief in the “correctness” of their respective ideologies and enforcing it onto the other, but rather what the other lacks which threatens their development. Both, through their understanding of the world due to the respective philosophies, want to provide what they believe the other lacks in order for the other to be a better realised individual.

The issue, at its core, is not whether they are wrong or right about their beliefs, but rather if their beliefs can benefit the other instead of harming them.

Kaveh’s callback to his initial reaction upon meeting Alhaitham (that, at first, their views “aligned” and were “complete”, being a false judgement, and that instead their differing philosophies could adjourn new speculation (Old Sketchbook) in the line: “What topic of conversation could be more sacred among scholars than… differing philosophies?”, conveys that new speculation can be found in the balancing of their philosophies. Evidently, the idea of ‘balancing’ their philosophies can be seen in their positive influence over each other, in them providing solutions to the other’s problems.

Overall, the question of whether Alhaitham and Kaveh can balance each other out, can maintain a harmony of opposites, exists in the sole premise of their existence: “Rationality and sensibility, language and architecture, knowledge and human feelings... Things that can never be integrated are what constitute the two sides of the mirror”.

Through Kaveh continuing to live with Alhaitham; Alhaitham’s assertion that Kaveh separating himself from the crowd not being a negative in terms of pursuing his ideals; and Alhaitham undertaking different methods of communication for Kaveh to better understand him, A Parade of Providence establishes that both of their fates lie within each other. This creates the promise of a narrative which follows the two reaching a mutual understanding potentially to be explored in future events.

(This is a reworked excerpt taken from my Haikaveh essay posted in March, before Cyno's Story Quest 2! If you're interested you can check it out here or as a pdf <3)

[anntoldst0ries]

Coda (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, Chapter 7 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count: 3.1k Rating: 18+ (NSFW) Summary: Things got heated between Dr Ramsey and Dr Valentine during Bloom’s event. Will they finish what they’ve started?

Warning: This fic contains adult content, don’t read if you’re a minor.

A/N: Happy Easter, folks! So, let’s pretend this horror of a dress (which, let’s be honest, even Bloom’s PA wouldn’t wear) never happened. Also, this is my first time ever publishing NSFW fic, so please be understanding 🙈 That being said, I always appreciate feedback and am forever grateful for all of you, because you help me grow 💜

Huge shoutout to Bree @jamespotterthefirst who was so lovely to pre-read it and actually encouraged me to post, girl you are golden and I just cannot thank you enough! We are all so lucky to have you 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼😍

Even though he was trying to be sensible about this, every molecule of sense left him during his left palm’s chance encounter with Noelle Valentine’s bare thigh.

But has anything about their touching bodies ever been truly accidental?

Although, if he was honest, this was just the culmination point.

His rational mind’s death by a thousand cuts.

It all started when she entered the premises of the venue in her provocative dress and he had to blink rapidly a few times, thinking that his eyes were deceiving him, breath trapped in his throat.

Cut.

Her every step gracious and light, as if she’s been the human embodiment of a wood nymph.

As if she’s stolen the world's entire allure.

Cut.

Her silky waves, cascading like a waterfall - he wanted to dive into them, lose himself in them.

Drown in them.

Cut.

She was a prodigy, a goddess descending from mount Olympus, who, for some mysterious reason, decided to grace the mortals with her overwhelming presence.

Some guests were standing agape, the others smiled wide and showered her with rain of compliments; a few people had tiny lightnings of jealousy flickering in their eyes.

But no one was left indifferent by her grand entrance.

Strangely, Ethan didn’t feel jealousy.

In fact, he couldn’t be more proud.

His eyes, like x-rays, have relentlessly been reminding him of the perfect shapes hiding under the layers of the sophisticated, silky material. In this regard, he envied everyone else. Unlike him, imagination was all they had.

He knew. He touched. He teased. He tasted. He caressed.

Sometimes, ignorance was truly a bliss.

Today, ignorance was certainly not going to help him get through this evening.

* * * * * *

He almost lost it on the balcony.

Then, the sudden appearance of musicians interrupted them.

He wasn’t startled.

He was angry.

Freaking Bloom and his jazz band, he thought to himself. How on earth was he constantly able to rain on Ethan’s parade, even when they weren’t physically in the same room?

Noelle’s pearly laugh dissipated all thoughts in an instant, her impossibly beautiful face now turned to him. Entwining their hands, Ethan knew he had no choice but to play along.

Inside, he was laughing out of the other side of his mouth.

They were coming back to the room full of buffoons and right now her presence was as comforting as it was driving him further into insanity.

Before he was even able to sit down, someone has already slipped a drink into his hand and when Ethan was ready to sigh and curse the fate that sent him to Bloom’s 4th circle of hell*, a sudden realisation struck him.

This evening wasn’t lost yet.

In fact, it wasn’t lost at all.

And as he was thinking, a small smile ran past his lips.

The answer was right there in front of him.

* * * * * *

“Dr Ramsey, you’re still here?” Ethan had heard the unwanted and all too loud voice, followed by an even more unwanted pat on the back, accompanied by his nemesis’ reddened face and alcohol breath.

He plastered a fake smile, mustering the remains of politeness.

“You didn’t strike me as a party type, I thought you’d be making excuses a long time ago.” Leland grinned like a Cheshire cat. For a second, an outsider could have almost thought these two hold each other in high regard.

Almost being the key word.

“This is the most pleasant surprise.” Leland continued. “You see, I am rarely wrong, so it’s one of these moments when not only am I wrong, but also being wrong actually makes me happy.” He laughed as if he’s just delivered the best punch line in the world.

“Well, we are representing the hospital after all and I wouldn’t be too much of an example if I left before the rest of my team.” Ethan put on his best charming smile, not without a superhuman effort.

You don’t play the game, you play the opponent, he reminded himself.

“It looks like we are finally agreeing on something, doctor.” A sleazy smile ran past his lips, as he left to mingle with another circle. Inside, Ethan shuddered. There was just something about Bloom that didn’t add up and he was yet to figure what it was… but now his focus shifted to something else entirely.

Just like he predicted (or diagnosed, if you will) with every sip, every passing minute, the guests were falling deeper and deeper into inebriation - the excellent staff made sure that every time someone emptied their glass, a new dose of liquid happiness was ready for them. Dr Ramsey knew this must have been Bloom’s doing.

They may have had money and resources but during these events, they were like wild animals held captive and then suddenly let loose. Their problem was that they thought money could pay for everything, but it certainly couldn’t buy back dignity, redeem bad manners and erase terrible first impressions.

Tonight, he will use this flawed logic to his advantage.

* * * * * *

Noelle was sitting across the table, not even trying to hide anymore that whatever the tech moguls were trying to sell, she wasn’t buying.

Neither their fancy apps nor their bullshit.

Ethan finished yet another glass of scotch and stood up, his height towering over everyone else at the table.

“Well, it’s about time I was moving. Thank you for a very… revelatory evening, gentlemen.” The other table occupiers didn’t even pay too much attention and murmured something, shifting their focus back to the beautiful female doctor. “Dr Valentine, can I offer you a ride home? That is, if you were planning to leave soon…”

“That would be great, thank you, Dr Ramsey.” If her eyes could speak up, they would have definitely thanked him for throwing her a lifebelt.

“Fantastic, meet me outside in 10 minutes then? I have…one more business to attend to beforehand.”

She wasn’t exactly sure what it was — the look, the pause between words, the accentuation - but something told her that whatever business he meant, she was very much a part of it.

Her suspicion has soon turned out to be justified, as his tall figure wandered off and disappeared around the corner.

A corner he had absolutely no reason to disappear around.

The younger doctor waited a minute before making her excuses and assuring her companions that a future partnership with Edenbrook couldn’t look any brighter, Noelle turned around and followed the man in black suit.

Walking as fast as her hurting feet and long gown were allowing her, Noelle entered a long corridor at the back of the fancy restaurant and had to admit that even this place, which must have simply led to different utility rooms, looked spectacular and stylish. Almost like those fairytale corridors, which lead to other dimensions.

But only if a voice summons you and guides you there.

Just as the thought popped into her head, a firm grip tightened around one of her wrists, making her jump.

When she turned around, his index finger was on his lips in a clear message.

Quiet.

They only made a couple of steps before he cautiously opened the door and rushed her into a room. It looked like a sophisticated pantry or a wine cellar and she thought the stock must have been worth more than her annual salary.

The room was dark, bar for the little window, which wasn’t much helpful with providing the light, given that the world outside was hugged by the arms of the night.

“Ethan, what’s goi—“ She never had a chance to finish the sentence, before he took her breath away with his lips, not for the first time this evening. He didn’t stop there, pushing her towards the counter, like a famished animal backing its victim into the corner.

“You said you’ll be looking for an encore, didn’t you?” She was trying to accustom her sight to the darkness, the gleam in the blue of his eyes her only reference point.

“Although, if I’m not mistaken and my opera knowledge is still sharp, I think coda** is actually the word you’re looking for.”

She stilled, a shiver running through her spine, the electric feel both hot and cold. An audible swallow filled the silence that lingered after his words, not for long as he continued his monologue.

“And I’m sorry, Dr Valentine, but I’m not a patient man today…I’ve exhausted all my patience on senseless endeavours this evening.” Almost as if to prove the sincerity of his words, he started moving towards her, his every gesture deliberate; there was no space for randomness.

Every word hit her like a wrecking ball, her remaining senses overkeen. She couldn’t rely on her eyes anymore and her hearing, smell and touch suddenly became heavily heightened, almost supernatural.

She couldn’t reflect on this for too long though, as he backed her further towards the counter, blocking her moves.

“H-how… how do you know no one’s gonna come in?”

Even in the dark, she could see the corners of his lips going up, in a smile which wasn’t affectionate. It was dark, almost sinister.

And hot as hell.

Ethan leaned into her and dropped his voice even lower than she thought was humanly possible, whispering straight into her ear.

“I don’t, but… my diagnostic instincts rarely fail me, Noelle Valentine. Plus… that’s a part of the thrill, isn’t it?” He paused for a second to gloat upon the effect his ministrations had on her. Dr Ramsey enjoyed controlling the situation - more than he’d care to admit.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t fantasised of this, of losing yourself in me completely… except you couldn’t, because of a tiny detail, a stubborn question in your pretty head… what if someone walks in on us? What if it happens when you are overwhelmed by pure ecstasy, knowing there is no coming back, that the only way is forward…”

Ethan knew immediately that these words hit the jackpot. If she wasn’t before, she was definitely shaking now, her treacherous body betraying her in all ways possible.

That’s how she knew all these months ago. Maybe her mind could, but her body could never lie to Ethan Freaking Ramsey.

Ethan’s hands started roaming her body, discovering his favourite promised land, as if he had not been touching her on that balcony earlier, as if he’d never touched her before.

Because for him, every time with her was first and last. And he hoped things would always feel this way.

“Who are you and what have you done to Ethan Ramsey?”

She couldn’t see the smirk that appeared on his painfully handsome face.

“If I were you, I’d be more worried about what’s to be done to you, Dr Valentine.”

With this, he lifted her up by grabbing her ass and sat her on the counter, pressing her back against the cold wall, which felt strangely warm against her body.

Or not so strangely, given there was a fire inside of her.

Securing her neck with his palm, he pulled her closer for a long, wet and greedy kiss, the obscene sounds of their mouths filling the otherwise silent space.

“Touch me.” A silent plea fell off her lips, her voice a quiet sob. Usually, he’d enjoy teasing her forever, playing little games, checking how far she would go to get what she wanted. But not tonight.

Tonight… he’s gonna give her exactly what she wants.

Because he wants it even more.

His middle and index finger slipped past the silky material of the dress and the band of her underwear. Noelle parted her lips slightly and drew a shallow breath, waiting in anticipation. Her wish was granted a couple of seconds later, when he ran up and down her folds, eliciting a small, guttural moan, which he was sure would forever be his favourite sound in the whole world.

Before she was even able to get used to the feeling, he pushed 2 digits into her without warning, making her eyes wide with amazement. But the movement stilled a second later. Maybe he couldn’t not tease her after all.

“Please.” The sound that came out of her was almost inaudible, yet extremely high pitched. Even if he tried, Ethan simply didn’t know the words that could come close to describing what these reactions were doing to him.

“You know I will give you the world… I will give you anything you want, Noelle. You just need to tell me what it is that you desire.”

She didn’t know what was the biggest turn on - his sultry voice dripping with desire, the feeling of his digits inside her or the well thought out choice of words. But it gave her an answer immediately.

“Fuck me with your fingers, Ethan.”

There was something shy and yet confident about the way she said it, he couldn’t explain it. Whatever it was, it made him even harder, which, at this point he thought wasn’t humanly possible. Although he was painfully aware of his own desire, he couldn’t rid neither her nor himself of the pleasure of watching her come undone on his fingers.

“As you wish, my naughty girl.”

His fingers started moving in come-hither motion, first slowly and teasingly. Just when she opened her mouth to beg him again, his thumb circled her swollen clit and pressed the sensitive bundle of nerves with precision, sending her mind into overdrive. She had to bite her own shoulder to suppress what she was sure would turn into a scream.

“Fuck… yes, right there.” She was an incoherent mess, while his fingers curved and touched places that made her eyes roll. “Faster, Ethan.” She commanded weakly as his fingers picked up the face, going in and out of her furiously.

She was pleading and moaning for god knows what and her hands were desperate to grip something, just anything.

Soon, he knew as well as she did that the peak was close, for her body kept moving and shaking on its own accord.

“I’m…this…you…” She cried, making even less sense than before.

“I know. Let go… let go now, Noelle. I know you needed this so much. Come for me now, baby.”

Sinking her teeth, this time in his shoulder, and tightening her grip on him, Noelle clenched around his fingers, the feeling so arousing that he thought he’s going to explode himself. He had to hold her with all the strength he had in his free arm, as she was all over the place, trembling, cursing, riding out what must have been one of the strongest orgasms she’s ever experienced.

When the feeling settled, Ethan slowly loosened his grip over her and slid his fingers out, bringing them to his lips. The taste of her astounded him every single time.

“In case I haven’t told you before… nothing can compare to the way you taste. Maybe apart from the way you feel, but I need to check to be certain.”

Before he was able to do so himself, she reached for his belt and unbuckled it hastily, letting his pants pool at his feet. Ethan hissed when she was ridding him of the last layer separating them, his throbbing member oversensitive to the slightest touch. He responded in kind, slipping her thongs down.

He stared at her as if he’s forgotten how to blink before saying:

“If I were you, I’d hold on tight.”

She grabbed the edge of the counter and tightened her grip, leaning onto her other arm, palm pressed flat onto the surface. Ethan positioned himself in front of her and the moment his tip met her sex, a wild lust overtook him completely, from top to bottom. He pushed hard, their bodies finally connecting.

He didn’t waste time to make himself or her feel comfortable. Right now, he wasn’t a guest - he was the invader, the intruder, the conqueror.

“Fuck, it’s impossible you’re still so tight.”

In answer, she clenched her muscles around him even more, earning herself a throaty sound.

“You little minx.”

She was going to be the death of him and what an epic death it would be.

“Ethan, fuck me like you mean it.” Noelle bit her lower lip, knowing the effect this tiny gesture always had on him. He didn’t need anything more. The sound of fast thrusts soon filled the air, making it thick and dense. The race started, two lovers chasing their gratification like it was the last thing they were ever going to do.

This wasn’t vanilla.

It was chilli, whiskey neat and flames.

A dance of carnal desires, intense and salient, leading to the grand finale. Nothing finesse, quite the contrary - a satiation of the most primal of human desires.

Ethan kept thrusting into her so deep that she felt blood when she had to bite her lip, trying to stop the animalistic scream trapped in her throat, begging to be released. She felt every vein, every nerve inside of her, every place he was reaching. Her hands and arms hurt, but her mind, currently controlled by Ethan’s cock moving in and out of her in killer pace, has overridden any physical sensations other than pure pleasure.

“So…so close.” She panted weakly, rolling her eyes as waves of pleasure kept crashing on her.

Leaning into her, he caught her earlobe and as he kissed her ear, Ethan groaned. “You’re so,” thrust, “fucking”, thrust, “hot”, thrust, “when”, thrust, “you come.”

And with that, she came.

Her whole body arched and hot white pleasure turned every cell of her body into bliss. It was like jumping into the pool on a sunny day, submerging yourself completely and then just… floating.

Ethan followed her instantly, her climax triggering his own. They were holding onto each other for dear life, compounding the intensity of their sensations and silently praying for this moment to never, ever stop.

When their breathing returned back to normal a few moments later, the older doctor pushed aside strands of her hair that stuck to her face and then cupped her cheeks.

“You ok?” The tenderness in his voice almost made her heart stop.

As if she hasn’t already been dead.

“Ok? No, I’m not ok. I am pretty fucking great.”

“That you are.” He smiled wide. “You are pretty fucking great.”

“Well you are not too bad yourself. How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I died and was reborn, all at the same time.”

They laughed at each other’s choice of words, still in a tight embrace.

“Ready for the next part, Ramsey?”

“Next part?”

“Now we need to sneak out of here for real.”

* * *

* This is a reference to Dante’s poem “Inferno” from “Divine Comedy”

** coda - The final part of a play, film, or narrative in which the strands of the plot are drawn together and matters are explained or resolved

Tag 🏷 list: @starrystarrytrouble @genevievemd @sophxwithers @terrm9 @maurine07 @the-pale-goddess @drakewalkerfantasy @iemcpbchoices @oldminniemcg @schnitzelbutterfingers @mercury84choices @lsvdw-blog @archxxronrookie @queencarb @qrkowna @utterlyinevitable @lucy-268 @udishaman @stygianflood @romereadingshop @romewritingshop @caseyvalentineramsey @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @liaromancewriter @mrs-ramsey @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @fayeswiftie @tsrookie @lisha1valecha @alina-yol-ramsey @stateofgracious @lem-20 @fireycookie

[potteresque-ire]

I’ve got several asks about BJYX supertopic’s recent battle for the top CP ranking. I’ve meant to answer them the way they’re asked, but the answer gets long. Dear Anons ~ please forgive me for splitting the answers into multiple posts!

As with everything I’ve said about CPs, they’re mostly my limited observations—unlike history and news, it’s impossible to find articles about any of this that pass journalistic standards. Therefore, please consider the following to be my personal impressions and ramblings, and as usual, everyone please feel free to point out mistakes and add your own thoughts!

Everyone probably knows already, but the new drama that has brought waves to the Weibo’s CP ranking list is Word of Honour (山河令, which I will abbreviate to WoH), and the CP pairing is known as Lang Lang Ding (浪浪釘, LLD). I haven’t watched this drama yet but as a Wuxia (and slash) fan, it is on my to-watch list. Nonetheless, I’ve been watching the developments surrounding the popularity of the drama and the CPs, and I think I can make the posts long enough just with these observations alone. (I’m incredibly long winded :D )

For the CP competition, I think it’s important to point this out: the LLD supertopic is a mixed character-CP and real-person-CP supertopic, unlike the YiZhan supertopics (BJYX, ZSWW, LSFY) that are real-person-CP only. This means comparing LLD and the YiZhan supertopics is really …  comparing apples and oranges, especially when WoH is still airing (and therefore providing fresh candies for the character CP with every new episode). I therefore wish this kind of popularity competition doesn’t take root in the international fandom; it’s … a bit silly to me, really. It makes little sense.

That said, however, I understand why c-turtles are fighting so hard for the #1 CP spot. C-ent (as is true with many other aspects in the country), numbers and ranking are everything. That 20(?), 40(?) minutes during which BJYX supertopic fell to #2 the first time already made “news” headlines that claimed that WoH had surpassed The Untamed (TU)—an even stranger comparison, if one thinks about it. BJYX, technically speaking, doesn’t have anything to do with TU. It’s a GG/DD real person CP.

But it doesn’t matter—numbers are numbers, and they talk to c-ent watchers, the commercial interests looking for their most promising future investments. The perceived power of c-turtles hinges on them and by power, I mean both fan power and spending power, which are almost synonymous terms in c-ent. Many of you have probably seen those charts that rank the popularity of c-ent entertainers by how much goods, in monetary value, they’re able to sell. How much do the c-turtles contribute to these monetary values? Are they, as a collection of fans, worth keeping, worth wooing?

The notion that only the fan’s spending power means something may cause unease in many i-turtles—and it is, indeed, a very cold-hearted assessment, as it implies that fans are little more than living wallets to be emptied. My observations have been that such a notion doesn’t bother c-turtles for the most part and, IMHO, they’re being realistic for their sociopolitical environment. They also respond to this notion accordingly—while it is difficult to tease out the exact percentage of turtles among Gg and Dd’s active fans (fans that make major purchases goods and merchandises), c-turtles have previously demonstrated their ability to contribute a substantial fraction (in the 10s of percent) of money spent on Gg and Dd. As these splits are only very occasionally visible to the public, the CP ranking likely serves as a constant reminder of c-turtles enormous fan/spending power — without which, Gg and Dd’s popularity will also take a hit.

In that sense, c-turtles are fighting for their right-to-exist. Remember when I talked about the “traditional” thinking that CPFs < solos, and that one CPF = one (loyal) solo lost? This means c-turtles must be able to demonstrate their ability to offer something that the solos cannot, and more importantly, that their offer will not come in any other name. If c-turtles proved last year that they wouldn’t change their name to solos, then this year they’re set to prove they’ll not change their name to LLDs or other CPFs. 

If the latter sounds a bit like a battlecry, it may be exactly that. Ever since the announcements of the long line of upcoming Dangai’s, ample inflammatory posts have been made on the platform to get c-turtles to “defect” to the new dramas, or predict that as soon as another pair of random, beautiful men start to throw candies on screen, c-turtles will promptly forget about Gg and Dd and join the fun. The latter, especially, can be quite insulting to read, as one can imagine. However, with c-turtles being a loosely connected group of millions, despite their apparent firm stance that they shall stay turtle, their underlying nerves that these “insults” may turn out to be true can also be felt — the worry that c-turtledom will haemorrhage when the next popular Dangai with enticing M/M CPs (character or real person) come along. 

WoH, as the first drama that fits the criteria, is therefore a test— a test that many c-turtles likely view they must pass with flying colours to prove their point, to stand with their heads held high among those who do not care about BJYXSZD (not necessarily solos—many solos, BTW, have actually helped the turtles out this time); to show that turtles are not only every bit as loyal as other Gg and Dd fans, they’re not so … cheap as to take any random “industrial saccharine” (工業糖精; referring to ZQSG-free candies created solely to lure in fans) and walk away.

The reform of the BJYX supertopic (which now allows candy analysis and explains the sudden appearance of many old candies), the flood of BTS videos from almost every Zhan Jie previously involved with the YiZhan CPs, the temporary retaking of the top 3 CP spots by BJYX+ZSWW+LSFY ... can therefore be viewed as a rally of c-turtles. The message is: we’re not going anywhere. We’ve got enough candies that no other (M/M) CPs can hope to match in quantity, in quality.

(And the parade is indeed impressive.) (The reform also didn’t come out of thin air; there have been discussions about the supertopic’s candy sharing rules before.)

Some c-turtles have rightfully been concerned about how such a parade of candies can affect Gg and Dd. They point out that some candies should still remain 閱後即焚 (“burn after reading”, instant return to hiding after release like certain BTS videos); that at some point, c-turtles have to let go of their obsession of staying on top of the CP rankings. TU is already almost 2 years old, and being a little lower on the CP ranking list will take the heat off the YiZhan fandoms in the long run, incite less outside forces trying to fan the flames between the shrimps and the motors and the turtles.

The rules and guidelines of c-turtledom therefore remain a work in progress, and c-turtles, the millions of them, are still learning as they go.

Personally, I have faith in what will come. I also haven’t been too concerned about the candy parade, because most information is already out there for those who’re determined to find them — on Bilibili, Douyin, Zhihu etc. I spent some time talking about the Gg Assistant fic not with the goal of eliciting pain or panic, but rather, as a demonstration of why it has been the tradition of CPFs—not only the turtles—to play things very cautiously, with 閱後即焚 and 圈地自萌 (“to play within the circle”; ie, keep all information and candies within CPFs) being the default rules even after removing the “queer factor” from the discussion. Real person CPs have fate as one of their writers and so, unlike character CPs, their candies can have unintended, unpredictable consequences. As the YiZhan fandoms have now grown big enough that their candies can no longer be realistically well-contained, it may not be such a bad idea for especially the sensitive candies to return under the “jurisdiction” of the BJYX supertopic, so to speak. c-turtles can then gain better control of their comes-and-goes. Their narratives.

(CPN below.)

About narratives. @rainbowsky have previously written a thoughtful piece on the possible reasons the YiZhan fandoms have been allowed to thrive, and I’d like to add the following hypothesis—it may be a way to take pre-emptive control of the Gg/Dd narrative in preparation for the scenario where their relationship is exposed without their consent. Some i-turtles, I think, may have already gained a sense of how ruthless, cruel and above all, quick the c-ent rumour mill can be. If Gg and Dd get outed by a third party, chances are they won’t have time at all to create a fresh narrative, and the one that come out of the rumour mill will likely be … very ugly, containing every worst misconception people have against homosexual relationships. Whereas now, c-turtles already have a narrative at hand—the canon-fanon that, while c-turtles may not agree on every detail, is largely agreed upon on the important milestones. The supporting materials are also ready: the videos, the images, the voice and arrow guides on them.  

For me, another interesting question is whether this c-turtle rally and parade of candies are truly necessary in the end.

I’m curious about what will happen to the LLD supertopic when WoH completes its airing. There’s really no precedence for this kind of a mixed character + real person M/M CP supertopic setup — the history of Dangai is short, of popular Dangai’s, even shorter.

Guardian (鎮魂), the first successful Dangai aired exactly a year before TU (in the summer of 2018), never had a dedicated CP supertopic (please holler if I got this wrong! I know there’re Guardian fans here ~ hello! *waves*). Discussions of Guardian’s CPs were found within the drama’s supertopic (剧版镇魂); the real-person-CP also never had its own name; its discussions were hidden under the character CP (巍瀾) tag.

Then came TU. Its real person CP (BJYX) split away from its character CP (WangXian) long before the airing for the drama—the birthdate of the BJYX supertopic was 2018/04/28 (TU’s airing date: 2019/06/27).

After TU, two Dangai dramas have already aired before WoH that seemed to have largely passed the attention of i-fandom: The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty (成化十四年) and Winter Begonia (鬢邊不是海棠紅). Winter Begonia, in particular, was well received. Their character CPs never really took off, however, being conceived and perceived as more brotherhood than romance. Age also played a factor for Winter Begonia—Yun Zheng (尹正), known to many turtles as Dd’s motorcycle buddy, is 34, and Huang Xiaoming (黃曉明) is 43. The associated real person CPs also never became popular as a result; Huang Xiaoming’s famous marriage to a beautiful actress also meant that a real person CP was likely to be off the table for Winter Begonia from the start.

The best reference I can think of then, when it comes to speculating the fate of LLD, is therefore the fates of the CP supertopics of 2020’s summer hit, Love and Redemption (琉璃). I’ve talked about its character CP before; essentially, just days after the drama was done airing, the (het) character CP (初遇夫婦) was broken up and in a manner largely criticised as unnecessarily cruel to CP fans. Its supertopic closed immediately afterwards. The supertopic for the real-person-CP (冰橙汁) got to live, however, and is still active today.

The commercial forces behind WoH will likely break the character CP as soon as the drama is done airing; popular het and non-het character CPs in the recent years have gone through similar fates. What does this mean to LLD then? Does it mean the supertopic will be shutdown, since the drama itself already has its own supertopic? But what will happen then to its real-person CP, which has been incorporated within the LLD supertopic? Will the real-person CP be broken at the same time as the character CP to allow for immediate “purification” of real person CP fans into solo fans, to avoid future “headaches” like BYYX—a bound between the actors that cannot be severed—or 227 that, in the eyes of many passerbys, remains an issue of solo vs cpfs?

Only time will tell, and I very sincerely hope it’ll get a happy ending. Fans are made to love, and it saddens me every time to see them being severed from their loves, or pitted against each other especially when it’s clear it’s the social media platforms, the commercial interests behind the scenes — not just the production/media companies but the YXHs, the water armies — who will reap the benefits in the end. Personally, I feel no joy in seeing anyone’s favourites getting torn down, even if they aren’t my own. Gg and Dd’s safety — and the safety of every upstanding, hardworking c-ent entertainer like them — doesn’t hinge so much on their CP or solo or drama ranking, but whether their fans can refrain from bringing their conflicts into the public eye, from “occupying social resources”—ie, deflecting the public’s attention from the “core socialist values” the government intends it to focus on.

Fandom is big enough for us all.

[tcm]

Just Give Her the Spotlight - The Marvelous Mrs. Miller By Constance Cherise

In 1987 at the age of 64, legendary tap dancer Ann Miller performed ��Shakin’ the Blues Away” on the television special Happy 100th Birthday, Hollywood. In 1988, Miller performed a medley from the nine-year running production “Sugar Babies” on the Palladium stage along with Mickey Rooney, and in 1989 she performed the tap dance routine from 42ND STREET (‘33) for the Disney-MGM Studios Theme Park Grand Opening television special.

While recently watching these productions, I feared that I was going to witness a frail elderly woman, who was still convinced she “had it,” either embarrass or hurt herself. Thankfully, my future 64-year-old self is encouraged to say I was utterly wrong.

I watched each performance with unblinking eyes, in complete shock and jaw-dropping disbelief. Generally, mature performers are surrounded by dancers and ornamentation as distraction, while the older dancer waves their arms and kick their feet a time or two then get whisked off stage. Not so with Ann Miller. It’s true, a bevy of tap dancers joins her, but they are only for Broadway effect. She owns every performance, complete with her rapid-fire footwork and powerful Broadway belt (and when I state the term “belt,” I do not mean she sang well for her age, I mean “where did that voice come from Ethel Merman belt”). Miller claimed she never had to practice vocalizing, that her power came naturally. I suppose being used to many stars that were dubbed, I never questioned whether Miller’s voice was actually being used during her performances. I was too busy dissecting her dazzling costumes, lavish sets and trying to figure out how she could possibly execute gun-machine taps and appear as if her feet did not leave the ground.

Houston-born Johnnie Lucille Collier (her father anticipated a boy) aka Ann Miller was enrolled in dance school from the age of six. And, after confronting her philandering father who was caught red-handed with a nude woman in his bed, Miller and her mother of Cherokee descent, Clara, moved to California.

The naturally adept Miller eventually won a contest where she appeared for two weeks at the Orpheum Theatre. At 13 years old while performing at a supper club, Miller was discovered by talent scout Benny Rubin and comedienne Lucille Ball, who suggested she test with RKO. Required to prove her age, Miller enlisted her father, a criminal lawyer whose clients included Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker (yes, that Bonnie and Clyde), to provide a false birth certificate stating she was 18 years old. As she began quite young in films, her mother Clara was her constant companion and protector, a memory that Miller would speak fondly of. The two remained close until Clara’s passing. Miller worked for multiple studios including RKO, Columbia and MGM, toured with major Broadway productions and had numerous television appearances.

Her debut was an uncredited role in ANNE OF GREEN GABLES (‘34). She performed on Broadway at age 16, and after a two-year stint she returned to Hollywood. She mainly appeared in B films until she auditioned for MGM’s EASTER PARADE (‘48), where she performed the entertaining number “Shaking the Blues Away.” In an interview with Robert Osborne, Miller admits to performing the number in a brace, due to her former husband’s physical abuse where in a drunken rage, he threw her down a flight of stairs breaking her back. Miller, who was nine months pregnant at the time, gave birth to her daughter, who tragically survived for only a few days.

A believer in the metaphysical, Miller wrote a book, Tapping Into the Force, about what she concluded were her psychic gifts. She would recall during the opening night of “Sugar Babies” in New York while standing alongside Rooney: "In the middle of the number, I felt this force hit me! It almost knocked the breath out of me. All of a sudden I started singing like I'd never sung before!” When returning backstage, her earring, which was securely fastened, fell from her ear landing near a piece of scenery with the letters “J-U-D.” Miller stated, “This inner voice I have said...Ann it's me, Judy!” In explaining her supernatural experience to Rooney, Miller revealed to Rooney, "Judy was on the stage with us tonight,” to which Rooney replied…“I know it.”

Big hair jokes aside, there really is something absolutely adorable about Miller that is hard to place your finger on. Beams of light still seemed to emanate from her face in her elder years. Not only was she the consummate professional, exuberant and entertaining with the mind of a steel trap, she was an essential keeper of the flame of all things Golden Age.

Her performances in KISS ME KATE (‘53), EASTER PARADE (‘48), LOVELY TO LOOK AT (‘52) and HIT THE DECK (‘55) were showstoppers, and those are only from her MGM years. Even her Stan Freberg directed Great American Soup commercial was one-minute and three-seconds of camp genius. If you are a musical fan and have not seen this commercial, stop reading now and look it up...don’t worry, I’ll wait. The way she rips her apron off to reveal her glittering costume as if she has been desperately awaiting this chance for her entire life, the overwhelming expression of sheer unadulterated rapture on her face, how she tosses her top hat with dynamic gusto, performing her signature twirls returning to the set of the kitchen— there is even a touch of Busby Berkeley for good measure. It simply could not be more gloriously MGM-musical perfect.

“It’s funny I never studied a lot of acting, I just thought acting was being me!”-Ann Miller

Usually, I have no issue detailing my favorite performances, however, with Miller I simply cannot. Each performance is consistently perfect and sure-footed with precise accuracy—it's almost impossible to choose one over another. Although she was not a Hollywood leading lady, she was showbiz through and through. Miller did, however, state in a 1990 interview with Bob Thomas, “Sugar Babies gave me the stardom that my soul kind of yearned for.'' If you watch her in interviews and her performances, you will find there is no line of delineation. Miller was a willing, fully assembled readymade pre-packaged star born for the spotlight. From her earliest performance to her last, one thing is resoundingly true—Ann Miller was not created for Tinseltown, Tinseltown was created for Ann Miller.

[woman-loving]

Brenda Howard: Mother of Pride?

A lot of mythology has sprung up around the Stonewall Riots and the annual Pride celebrations that commemorate them. This mythology often serves a community function: by lifting up a particular narrative of events, and emphasizing certain actors, communities create a history that provides legitimacy for their current identity, values, and goals.

As well-intentioned as these mythologies may be, they aren't always historically accurate, and may end up obscuring more complex realities and the contributions of other actors.

One myth I'd like to examine is that bisexual activist Brenda Howard created the first Pride parade.

You can see this claim repeated in various forms in online LGBTQ magazines such as The Advocate, Curve, LGBTQ Nation, Pride, and Instinct, as well as places like the History Channel site, CNN (8th slide), Bi Pride UK, LGBT History Month, and various other blogs and sites. The 25th anniversary edition of Bi Any Other Name: Bisexual People Speak Out also includes this (poorly-edited) footnote on bisexual activist history:

Bisexual activist Brenda Howard (1946-2005) conceives and co-coordinates a one-month Stonewall Rebellion rally, and a one year anniversary march and celebration. This became the annual NYC Pride March that, in turn spawned Pride Marches around the country and the world.

Much of what's been written about Brenda Howard's contribution to Pride is misleading. While it seems that she was on the Christopher Street Liberation Day Committee as a representative from the Gay Liberation Front, she was not the primary organizer of the event, nor did she come up with the idea for it. Describing Pride as "conceive[d]," "organized," "planned," or "invented" by Howard suggests that she played a much more prominent role than she did. And when Howard is the only person whose involvement in Pride is highlighted, it results in a distorted narrative where other, more principal organizers are erased.  

Brenda Howard has likely received the spotlight due to her representational value to the bisexual community. The presence of bi people at Pride--and even within LGBTQ communities--has often been challenged, and what better rejoinder is there than to say that it was a bi woman who started it all? (A bi woman who later partnered with a man, no less.) The narrative of Brenda Howard as creator of Pride therefore works to justify bi people's place in "queer" communities and history and counter the misconception that bi people are merely apolitical spectators to community activism.

It makes sense that bi people and their allies would spread around such histories. However, the justification for bi people's belonging doesn't rest on this one figure or the role she played in Pride. Brenda Howard is an example of a bi participant in general "gay" activism (as well as specifically bi activism), and her role in Pride doesn't need to be inflated to find value in her legacy.

----

Now I'll turn to look more closely at the claims made about her role in Pride, and the evidence for them.

First of all, I must mention that I'm not an expert on Stonewall or its legacy. I haven't done an exhaustive search on all the sources that document the origins of Pride, so it's possible that I've overlooked some evidence. If anyone has any other sources that would illuminate her role in Pride, I'd be happy to consider them.

As far as I can tell, most of the online information about Howard's connection to Pride can be traced to an obituary written by her partner, Larry Nelson, after her death in 2005. Part of the obit is quoted in these memorial articles:

A militant activist who helped plan and participated in LGBT rights actions for more than three decades. Ms. Howard was a major player in starting the annual Pride celebrations that take place every year around the world. She coordinated the 1-month anniversary rally and the 1-year rally/march commemorating the Stonewall Rebellion, which became the annual New York City Pride March. Howard also originated the idea for a week-long series of events around Pride Day, called Pride Week. Most U.S. states and many countries and cities around the world now celebrate Pride Day/Week annually, descended directly from those first marches and rallies in New York City which Howard coordinated and created.

As you can see, several of the other articles take language directly from this obit, which appears to be their source of information. (The Bi Any Other Name footnote also uses similar language.) The only additional details come from the Lolita article, which describes Howard as "one of the organizers of the first Christopher Street Liberation Day march in 1970." Considering that this author includes the correct name for the first march in New York, I'm inclined to believe that her knowledge (or research) extends beyond Nelson's obituary. I think it's notable that she describes Howard as merely "one of the organizers," in contrast to Nelson, who doesn't qualify her leadership in any way.

Another article called "A Long History of Activism" was posted to Gay City News a few weeks after her death. This article draws quotes from a number of people who worked with Howard, and provides more details about her activism and community involvement. Other than mentioning that she was "there at Stonewall," it has nothing to say about her role in organizing the Liberation Day march. This would seem to contradict the claim that Howard was known as the Mother of Pride. The origin of this moniker may be the title of the Bilerico article from the previous set: "Pride founding mother, Brenda Howard's, memorial service announced." None of these articles call her the Mother of Pride.

The one pre-2005 source I've found that connects Howard to the Christopher Street Liberation Day march is the book Stonewall by Martin Duberman (1994). But before I turn to that, let's see what else we can find about the one-month anniversary rally at Washington Square Park and the 1970 Liberation Day march.

I happen to have a book about post-Stonewall activism called Out for Good: The Struggle to Build a Gay Rights Movement in America by Dudley Clendinen and Adam Nagourney (1999). I checked the index for Brenda Howard, but her name wasn't listed. However, it does discuss the two events Nelson credits to Howard. I'm going to outline and quote some of it to give you a better sense of what happened leading up to them.

According to the authors, in the weeks following the Stonewall riots on June 27 1969, the New York Mattachine Society began distributing leaflets proclaiming that their organization “stands ready to arrange a meeting” with public officials. A man named Michael Brown saw one of the leaflets and went to the MS office, calling for a more “aggressive response.” The executive director of the MS, Dick Leitsch, “put Brown in charge of a new Mattachine Action Committee, and called for a public forum on July 9 at the Freedom House, where the Mattachine Society held its monthly meetings.” (Out for Good, p 26)

The people who met at the forum were “younger, more radical, new to the world of homophile politics,” and included Marty Robinson, Jim Owles, Lois Hart, and Martha Shelley (p 26). Martha Shelley was a member of the New York chapter of Daughters of Bilitis, and is credited with proposing the idea of a rally:

Leitsch wanted to work quietly within the system, and he argued against the creation of any new groups that would, he said, divide the limited energies of the movement. But shortly after he called this meeting to order, Martha Shelley rose and proposed a different idea: a march and rally at Washington Square Park to protest police harassment. Leitsch wearily asked if anyonetruly through this made sense. Hands shot up across the room, so Leitsch unhappily suggested that anyone who wanted to organize the march move to acorner of the room. (p 27)

Martha Shelley’s own account corroborates this:

Shelley remembered, “As soon as I found out that gays were rioting against the police, I called Joan Kent, who was running our local DOB chapter, and said, ‘We need to have a protest march.’ She said that if the Mattachine Society agreed, the two organizations could co-sponsor it. So I called Dick Leitch, the head of NY Mattachine, and he said to come to a meeting at Town Hall and propose the march idea to the membership.

[…] Town Hall held 400 people, and it was jam-packed with 398 men, one female member of Mattachine, and me. When I proposed the march, Dick asked how many were in favor. Everyone’s hand went up. So he said, 'Whoever wants to organize it, go to that corner after the meeting.’ A few of us formed a march committee. We subsequently met at the Mattachine Society office to work out the details.

The rally occurred on July 27 1969 at Washington Square Park, one month after the Stonewall riots. My book describes Shelley addressing the crowd of 500 from the rim of a fountain:

“Shelley had taken responsibility for obtaining whatever permits were needed to rally at Washington Square Park and march the four blocks to the Stonewall Inn. It turned out the only permit needed was for a sound system. And Shelley[…] decided she would rather yell than ask for a permit from the New York City Police Department. So there she was in the middle of the Washington Square Park–all five feet four inches of her, as fierce as ever–bellowing at the top of her lungs, a little taken aback by how many men and women had turned up (mostly men), many wearing the lavender armbands she and Marty Robinson had handed out that morning.” (p 28)

She and Marty Robinson are described as “the principle speakers” at the rally (p 29).

Shortly thereafter, Shelley would be among the founding members of the Gay Liberation Front. She is even credited with coming up with the name--or at least proposing to use "gay" (p 31). She and Jim Fouratt were "probably the most forceful" personalities "responsible for setting [the group’s] tone as much as its ideology" (p 41). The Gay Activists Alliance would split off from this group by the end of 1969 (p 46-47).

Considering that Brenda Howard was also a member of GLF--and that some of the early members were rally coordinators--I don't think it's a stretch to believe that Howard was involved with planning the rally. However, it doesn't sound like it was her idea or that she was the primary organizer.

---

However, crediting her with "coordinating" the 1970 Christopher Street Liberation Day march is an even bigger claim. Everything I’ve read points to Craig Rodwell being the primary coordinator. I'll start drawing on some other sources here, too, especially "Movements and Memory: The Making of the Stonewall Myth," by Elizabeth A. Armstrong and Suzanna M. Crage (2006).

Before the Stonewall Riots, Rodwell already had a history of gay/homophile activism. He created Mattachine Young Adults in 1964 and the Homophile Youth Movement in Neighborhoods, and was a member of East Coast Homophile Organizations. He opened the Oscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop in Greenwich Village in 1967, which served as an informal community center (Craig Rodwell Papers, p 3). For five years he participated in the Annual Reminder pickets, which were first organized by Frank Kameny in 1964 to bring attention to the lack of civil protections for gays and lesbians. Apparently, Rodwell was the one who suggested making this an annual event. ("Movements," p 736.)

Some months after Stonewall, an Eastern Regional Conference of Homophile Organizations took place on November1-2, 1969. A resolution was introduced "by Craig Rodwell, representing the Homophile Youth Movement, and Ellen Broidy of NYU’s Student Homophile League" (Nation Historic Landmark Nomination: Stonewall, p 19). It proposed changing the Annual Reminder into an annual Christopher Street Liberation Day:

RESOLUTION #1: that the Annual Reminder, in order to be more relevant, reach a greater number of people, and encompass the ideas and ideals of the larger struggle in which we are engaged—that of our fundamental human rights—be moved both in time and location.

We propose that a demonstration be held annually on the last Saturday in June in New York City to commemorate the 1969 spontaneous demonstrations on Christopher Street and this demonstration becalled CHRISTOPHER STREET LIBERATION DAY. No dress or age regulations shall be made for this demonstration.

We also propose that we contact Homophile organizations throughout the country and suggest that they hold parallel demonstrations on that day. We propose a nationwide show of support. (“Movements,” p 738)

The authors of "Movements" say that Rodwall had friends from NYU’s Student Homophile League introduce the resolution, so it might have just been introduced by Ellen Broidy. Frank Sargeant, who was Rodwell’s partner at the time, says that "two women, Ellen Broidy and Linda Rhodes, were instrumental in getting a resolution for that first march passed"(1970: A First-Person Account of the First Gay Pride March). Another resolution was passed to form the Christopher Street Liberation Day Umbrella Committee (“Movements,” p 738).

So what role did Brenda Howard play in coordinating the march? Returning to Duberman's Stonewall, she was apparently one of the GLF "mainstays" on the coordinating committee:

The first thing Craig did, after the final ERCHO convention in November 1969 gave its blessing to the formation of a Christopher Street Liberation Day Committee, was to diplomatically send out notices to all of ERCHO’s constituent groups that such a committee had indeed come into existence. The niceties performed, Craig then had to find people to do the actual work. He began by notifying all the New York gay groups of the committee’s formation and–making clear (more niceties) that the planned celebration was not owned by any one organization–asked that they send representatives.

GAA delayed until some six weeks before the celebration, and Mattachine was overtly negative until the last minute, when DOB also decided to join in. But GLF responded immediately, and from that group Brenda Howard, Marty Nixon, and Michael Brown became mainstays. To fill out the committee, Craig buttonholed some of his regular customers at the Oscar Wilde Bookshop, and managed to bag Judy Miller, recently arrived in New York from Denver, and a pair of lovers, Jack Waluska and Steve Gerrie. All three turned out to be hardworkers, and stayed the course. (Stonewall, p 270)

The also book notes that "the small group of eight or so people began to meet monthly in Craig’s apartment on Bleecker Street[…]” (p 271).

However, as I was doing some additional research for this post yesterday, I found a comment responding to a Brenda Howard article that appears to be from Frank Sargeant, although I see no way to verify it:

We should talk. I was one of the four people that proposed the march at the Nov 69 meeting of the Eastern Regional Conference of Homophile Organizations. Brenda Howard was not there. ERCHO created the Christopher Street Liberation Day Umbrella Committee to organize the march. I served on the finance committee of the CSLDUC and at the head of the march. Brenda Howard was liason or representative from GLF that attended one meeting at my apartment. Once.

I don’t know what sources you’re relying on but if it’s the family website created after she died in 2005, it not a reliable source.

Brenda Howard was very peripherally involved the march and had no role in the organizing committee. Her group, GLF, did not have anything remotely like the myths suggest in organizing march any more than any of the many other groups whose names are now forgotten but that I’d be happy to tell you about.

This would again confirm that she did have some invovlement, but it seems to contradict Duberman's characterization of her as a "mainstay." In contrast, Duberman writes that "Foster [Gunnison] fully credited Craig with being the heartbeat of the committee: He was "like a guru," Foster later said, "everything revolved around him[…]" (p 271).

In any case, the march took place on June 28, 1970. It "covered fifty-one blocks, from Washington Square Park to Central Park," and ended with a "gay-in" at Sheep Meadow (Out for Good, p 63). There "were no floats or platform displays, at the insistence of Rodwell, who feared they would distract from the political significance of the day” (p 63). Several thousand people participated in the march and gay-in. Jean DeVente, also known as "Mama Jean," headed the march (p 63).

---

In the obituary, Nelson also credits Howard with "[originating] the idea for a week-long series of events around Pride Day, called Pride Week."

"Gay Pride Week" is related to, but not interchangeable with, the Christopher Street Liberation Day march (or Pride parades more generally). The march was the central event, which had already been proposed as an annual commemoration by the time Brenda Howard apparently joined the coordinating committee. While it's possible that Howard may have first floated the idea of a week-long series of events surrounding the march, or even have had a larger role in planning these events, that needs to be understood in its larger context. We shouldn't credit her with creating "Pride parades" or "Pride" in general if she just proposed expanding on already planned events.

I haven’t had much luck finding information about the 1970 Gay Pride Week in New York, so I can't say exactly what role Howard played in it. All I’ve gathered so far is that:

It was sponsored by the Christopher Street Liberation Committee. (National Historic Landmark Nomination: Stonewall, p 19)

"To accommodate the interests of the many different groups participating, the Christopher Street Liberation Day Committee named the days leading up to the march "Gay Pride Week,” when individual organizations could host their own events and activities." (Out History exhibit)

"Lesbian activities organized by Women of Lesbian Liberation were centered at [the new Lesbian Center at] the Church of the Holy Apostle, where they held a discussion with WL women and Daughters of Bilitis on the connection between feminism and lesbian liberation. Communal suppers and all-woman dances were held." (here, see more discussion here)

It "suffered some glitches–some poorly attended events and a double-booking with the pro-Castro Venceremos Brigade[…]" (“Movements,” p 741). It was also criticized as "not very well organized" in Iowa City’s women’s lib newspaper Ain’t I a Woman?

The events included "workshops, dances, art shows, conferences, and a culminating 'mass march'..." (Nation Historic Landmark Nomination: Stonewall, p 20; footnote 52: “A Week of Gay Pride,” Village Voice June 25, 1970.)

Given that this is one of the more specific claims in the obituary, and that there's no evidence to directly contradict it, it's perfectly possible that Howard did come up with the idea of "Pride Week." On the other hand, considering Nelson's track record here, I feel like I ought to take his account with a grain of salt.

---

Another piece of online trivia about Brenda Howard appears to originate from the webpage "Pride (trope), Homolexis," for which I’ve only found broken links. This information on Howard’s wikipedia page is sourced to it:

Additionally, Howard along with the bisexual activist Robert A. Martin (aka Donny the Punk) and gay activist L. Craig Schoonmaker are credited with popularizing the word "Pride" to describe these festivities.

I’ve not found anything else about Howard’s role in this, which doesn’t make it false. For his part, Craig Schoonmaker does take credit for this:

My name is Craig Schoonmaker, and in 1970 I authored the word ‘pride’ for gay pride. Somebody had to come up with it!

We had a committee to commemorate the Stonewall riots. We were going to create a number of events the same weekend as the march to bring in people out of town, and wanted to unite the events under a label. First thought was ‘Gay Power’. I didn’t like that, so proposed gay pride.

There’s very little chance for people in the world to have power, but anyone can have pride.

As for Stephen Donaldson (Robert A. Martin), as far as I'm aware, he wasn’t involved with the Christopher Street Liberation Day Committee at all. It seems he was mainly involved in the Student Homophile League at Columbia. In fact, he says that "late in the spring of 1970 I dropped out of the gay movement, for a number of reasons, one of them the increased hostility from within the movement to my own bisexuality.[…]" (In 1977 he returned to Columbia--and to the SHL, which was then “Gay People at Columbia-Bernard.” You can read his own account of the creation of the SHL and some of their activities. [cw for rape and homophobic violence on p 258/30, second paragraph under “Background”])

Whoever came up with it, it seemed to catch on pretty quickly.

---

Although I'm challenging the narrative of her responsibility for Pride, I don't mean to downplay Brenda Howard's activism or community involvement, which appears to have been extensive. Here are some other things she did (info taken from the memorial articles, and other sources):

Involved in the anti-war movement

Member of the Gay Liberation Front

Member of the Gay Activists Alliance and longtime chairperson of the Agitprop (Agitation-Propaganda) Committee, GAA’s speakers committee (source; also source: Howard is mentioned on p. 19 and you can read about the speakers committee on p. 16)

Active in the Coalition for Lesbian and Gay Rights (an umbrella group co-founded by GAA to rally support for the New York gay rights bill, which would pass in 1986)

Worked at a phone sex service starting in 1985

Co-chair of the S/M-Leather Contingent for the 1987 March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights (I found a notice she wrote about it in a National Leather Association newsletter p 3; link's broken now)

Ran the New York Area Bisexual Network’s Info Line (and possibly was one of NYABN’s founders in 1987?)

Involved in BiPAC ("Bisexual Political Action Committee," of the NYABN)

Worked with the Queens’ chapter of the Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (they now give out an annual Brenda Howard Memorial Award)

Ran "the nation’s first Alcoholics Anonymous chapter for bisexuals" and also ran a bi S/M group

Active in the (successful) campaign to change the 1993 March on Washington name to "The 1993 March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay and Bisexual Rights" (source: p. 2 mentions that she gathered signatures in New York, and p. 5 says that she was one of seven out bisexuals at the Bisexual Caucus at the National Steering Committee, where the change was voted on)

A coordinator in BiNet USA

Worked on organizing the "Stonewall 25" or “Spirit of Stonewall March” in 1994, which celebrated the 25th anniversary of Stonewall

A member of ACT-UP New York (she was jailed following a “protest of the firing of a lesbian from the state attorney general's office" which occured in 1997)

---

While that's all I have to say about Brenda Howard, I wanted to include a bit more information on the first Stonewall commemorative events for those who are interested. The Christopher Street Liberation Day march and Gay Pride Week in New York weren’t the only ones that took place in 1970. The New York committee reached out to other organizations to participate, and events occurred in three other cities.

Chicago activists also celebrated a Gay Pride Week ending with a rally and a 150-person march on June 27, a day before the others (“Encyclopediaof Lesbian and Gay Histories and Cultures,” p 871). Moderate activists in San Francisco declined to get involved, but a few more radical activists organized a small gay-in, and there was apparently an unrelated march as well (“Movements,” p 741).

Los Angeles activists also organized a parade under the name "Christopher Street West." They had trouble obtaining a permit from the Chief of Police, and had to get a court order for him to issue it (“Movements,” p 741). In contrast to the New York march, this event may be more properly described as a "parade":

With the permits in hand, Morris Kight and Troy Perry led their march through West Hollywood. By their count, 1,163 people showed up at McCadden Place at 6 p.m. on June 28 to mark the anniversary of Stonewall. There was a sound truck blasting martial music, a GLF float featuring a homosexual nailed to a black-and-white cross with a sign reading “In Memory of Those Killed by the Pigs,” a GLF guerrilla theater skit with “fairies” dressed with wings being chased by vice cops with night sticks and even an Orange County contingent hoisting a banner that said, “Homosexuals for Ronald Regan.” (Outfor Good, p. 64)

Pat Rocco was another organizer for the 1970 Christopher Street West parade. He takes credit for creating the first Pride "festival" following the parade in 1974. (Although I know Toronto’s 1972 Gay Pride Week had a “Festival of Gay Culture” at the homophile center to kick off the week, which included “carnival events.”)

There’s a video of Rocco talking about it, and I typed up a partial transcript [starting around 1:25]:

So what happened is that they had a big--a whole bunch of the people together in Hollywood--got together and elected me the very first president of a Gay Pride organization. […] And I said, ok we got to do two important things at the very beginning. One, we’ve got to get our 501c3. […]

And I said the second thing is: we got to stop stopping everything that happens at the end of the parade. The parade ends and everyone just goes their way. I said I’d like to have something where everybody in Hollywood gets together at the end of the parade. I said let’s have a festival, and let’s have the parade end at the festival. And let’s just make it that way.

And they said no way! You want us to be there in the middle of people? It’s one thing being on Hollywood Boulevard, and then you’re off and nobody sees you anymore. But another thing is being some place for three days--I wanted a three-day festival--and we show ourselves and everybody knows--I said yes, what everybody knows is that you don’t have horns. You’re not strange, you’re not unusual. […] I said just do it, and I think you’ll be surprised.

They finally gave in. We had a three-day festival. I had seven carnival rides. I had 24 booths. I had a big lot on Sunset Boulevard, one block from the end of the parade. And the place went crazy. The place was packed every day. And at the end of the parade, everyone on Hollywood Blvd has to go to the festival. They all ended up there.

So it was an idea that not only caught fire, but people were calling: what is that guy Rocco doing in Los Angeles, in Hollywood? San Francisco was calling and they said well we’re gonna do it next year. And I said fine. Since then there have been parades and festivals combined together all over the world. And I’m the proud papa. And I’m so proud to be.

I don't bring this up to turn the spotlight to Paul Rocco and say, "oh, he's the real inventor of Pride as we know it," and I don't have any other information to confirm or deny his account. Rather, I include this as an illustration of how Pride continued to develop even after the first year, and how multiple people may have had a hand in shaping what it looks like today and what it's looked like in different cities.

Well, I hope this has been an interesting history lesson, or at least a cautionary tale about how easily poorly-sourced information can spread online and beyond. Had you heard this myth before?

[roseskiesandbutterflies]

Loverboy (Jimercury Oneshot)

Summary: Jim goes to Heaven to find the man that's been tormenting his mind for almost a week. (The description is really bad so please just read it it's better than it sounds.)

A/N: This was sponsored by Loverboy by Adam Lambert which I recommend listening to and also to my sheer lack of impulse control. I hope you're all well and that you have a good rest of your day. Get some sleep if you need it, drink some water if you can and treat yourself because you deserve it. This is not optional. Let me know what you thought because my muse likes feedback, leave a like or perhaps reblog if you feel like it and maybe check out my other semi-decent works?? OK, enjoy my darlings.

Warning(s): alcohol, swearing, implied sexual content (OK why did I write it like that since when am I that posh)

Word Count: 2.2k+

Inspiration: Effervescent by @immistermercury on AO3, Loverboy by Adam Lambert, Mercury And Me by Jim Hutton

Taglist: @bhmay @briarrose26 @bijoukitty

Ask to be on my taglist!

Jim had thought Heaven would be a bit more exciting on a Friday night, if he was being as brutally honest as usual. It wasn’t somewhere he frequented much, preferring the atmospheres of the smaller clubs further south of London. For someone who wasn’t typically one to approach people first, large clubs were somewhat intimidating. He wasn’t the type of guy to buy men drinks out of the blue, to put himself in others’ personal bubbles with a smile that could do him all sorts of favours later on in the night. No, Jim would much rather people-watch with his pint of lager that never left his line of vision, something you’d expect from a patron of a coffee shop, not of a gay nightclub. Jim had adopted the philosophy that if anyone noticed and fancied the look of him, then they would go to him first. Although it was that kind of attitude that left you with a certain sense of disappointment and loneliness while sitting in the back of a taxi at four in the morning, only to take you to an even more disappointing and lonely flat and an even more disappointing and lonely bed.

This time, Jim was hellbent on not feeling anything of the sort tonight, and while that was largely down to amount of alcohol he’d drunk merely one hour into his evening, it did give him a certain air of confidence that made him almost unrecognisable. They don’t call it ‘liquid luck’ for nothing, Jim supposed as he made his way to the bar.

Heaven had a particular vibe about it that Jim found near enough impossible to pin down. It was an unspoken rite of passage, for you sure as hell didn’t get men looking to experiment down there, men who were just on the wrong side of naivety, men who weren’t gay but just in case, you never know. Men like that would get eaten alive in Heaven; ones with all sorts of bad intentions tended to lurk around the larger clubs. It wasn’t sinister, per se, but it was a bit much if you weren’t quite too sure what you were doing.

Heaven was almost always full to the brim with people, but despite that it was weirdly intimate, providing you found the right person. Jim had yet to do so but he had to give himself credit, he’d only been there for a couple of minutes. He ordered his drink, trying his best to not let the shock show on his face when he found out just how expensive drinks were at Heaven, and surveyed the scene before him. It wasn’t overly exciting, everyone in his line of vision seemed to already have someone, or in some cases multiple someones. For now, he decided to let himself be absorbed into the unique atmosphere, the deafening yet grounding music that vibrated through his very core, the fluorescent lights that illuminated what needed to be highlighted and created shadows over what needed to be hidden.

Jim couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over the sea of men surrounding him. He supposed he should have felt trapped or perhaps claustrophobic in his little corner, everywhere he looked he could see people who had yet to clock his presence. But it was just that, the fact that no one had even bothered to clock that he was there, that no one had even thrown him a glance, that made him feel somewhat isolated, something he never felt in his regular clubs. He was fighting every instinct in himself to finish his drink and go, to just forget that this evening had started in such a way, because he forced himself to remember why he was there in the first place.

That man. That one man who had somehow managed to stumble into his café on a bleak Sunday morning, still drunk from the night before and clearly not having slept yet. Why else do people go to artisan cafés at six in the morning, ask for the most lucrative drink Jim had ever heard of and then for the barista’s number because he looked simply ravishing, darling. As you can probably imagine, early morning shifts weren’t exactly busy, especially not on a Sunday of all days, and the man was just so eager to talk and inadvertently reveal half of his life story, Jim couldn’t find it in himself to let the rather interesting conversation die. He’d even offered to make him a cure for the inevitable hangover he was going to get after he eventually went to sleep. They’d talked about everything and nothing for a good two hours, until the lethargic customers looking for their pre-work coffees trickled in and heavily mumbled their never-changing orders. It was at that point when Jim had chased the man out with a tea towel and a message of get some damn sleep, for God’s sake, and once he was back behind the counter the stranger poked his head round the door to say the name’s Freddie, by the way, Freddie Mercury, before leaving for good with the sound of the bell above the door being the only thing left of his presence. Well, that, the innumerable empty cups he’d left on his table by the window and the smile etched onto Jim’s face that stayed there for the rest of the day.

At one point, Freddie had let slip that he’d been drinking with some friends at Heaven for most of the night, and that it was somewhere he went most evenings. So, Jim had taken a risk and gone on that Friday night, hoping to see his mystery man again.

He scanned over the club again and started to lose hope, even if Freddie was there, it was so dark he might struggle to see him. And even if he did, what would he do? Would Freddie even want to see him? Did he even remember him? He was rather drunk at the time, oh God what if he saw him and he didn’t even recognise his face-

“Jim!”

He snapped his head to the right so fast; he almost pulled a muscle in his neck. There he was, positively glowing under the lights that would have washed anyone else out, clad in the tightest leather, under the arm of another man. Jim’s stomach dropped about ten feet, but he refused to let that spoil his evening. Besides, he didn’t think he was capable of raining on Freddie’s oh-so-sunny parade. He forced a smile onto his face, “Freddie, hi!”

Freddie tugged on the arm of his companion like an incessant child, “Paul, this is the guy I told you about! He owns the café down the road!” His voice was so full of excitement, Jim could tell he was a little bit tipsy already, but the joy was genuine.

“I don’t own it, I just work there,” he justified, squirming a bit under intensive stare of Freddie’s friend. He knew that look, the one of suspicion, the one of I don’t know who you are, but I can’t trust you yet. Jim couldn’t find it in himself to blame him for that. He may have been trying to find reasons to hate Paul, but he just put it down to the jealousy that he knew he should be trying to rein in.

Freddie was oblivious to this, or at least was pretending to be for the sake of keeping the peace, “Oh shush, darling, you seemed pretty in charge when I was there.”

“That was only because I was the only one working at the time,” he said, feeling his smile become a bit more real and suddenly remembering why he was there in the first place. He was chasing this feeling of pure elation, this feeling of finally living that he hadn’t yet felt in the two months he’d been living in London.

“Enough of this boring stuff,” Freddie ducked out of Paul’s grasp and grabbed Jim’s free hand, “I want to dance,” his eyes sparkled, and Jim was sure it wasn’t from the lights overhead. Freddie quickly turned to Paul and said, “A glass of rosé for me, darling,” before tapping his arm and leading Jim through the crowd, leaving Paul with his lips parted in disbelief and in a state strongly reminiscent of a dead fish.

Further into the club, they had found a small space to dance. Freddie had his arms looped loosely around Jim’s neck and Jim had his hands tentatively on Freddie’s waist and their foreheads were practically touching because there wasn’t much space to do anything else. He couldn’t help but wonder if Freddie had chosen such a space on purpose, and he had no idea if he was just being hopeful or if he was actually onto something. He wasn’t all too sure where Freddie was going with this. He’d assumed that him and Paul were a thing, but they hadn’t actually done anything to suggest such a thing. He didn’t want to be seen as the guy who wrecks a relationship because he’s too selfish to think about the consequences of his actions. He knew he shouldn’t care about a man he’d met less than a week ago but when you’re practically alone in a city like London, you can’t help but cling to the first person who gives you even the slightest bit of attention.

This kind of attention was different, though. Jim wasn’t blind to the way Freddie looked at him, he knew exactly what that look meant and it sent shivers down his spine every time they locked eyes. Freddie leaned in closer, if that was even possible, and whispered in his ear, “You’re thinking too much, darling. You need to let yourself go.” Freddie pulled back and looked at Jim through his eyelashes, who in turn got goose bumps just from his tone of voice alone. It was honey, smooth and sweet, slipping into his mind and giving him a feeling that he didn’t think any drink or drug could top. He could feel himself slipping into a certain state of mind that felt softer than silk and tasted sweeter than sugar. He could lose himself in just the image of Freddie dancing like that, of Freddie holding him like that, and he was so damn grateful that he could have this all to himself, even if was only for one night.

Jim tried to come back to his senses, even though he wanted nothing more than to surrender them all to the man before him, “What do you want from me, Freddie? You already came here with someone.”

Freddie chuckled lightly, letting his eyes drift away before coming back to the bubble he’d created with Jim and had no intention of popping just yet, “Paul? No, he’s dull, darling. You on the other hand,” he paused for effect, looking Jim up and down before coming back to his ear, “You’re positively edible.”

Jim embraced the closeness for a second, not allowing himself to indulge in it for a moment longer or he would have been gone with no return, “I’m serious. I don’t want to be a game to you, I want to be more than that.”

Freddie breathed deeply, taking in Jim’s aura, “Paul thinks it’s more serious than it is, I don’t really care about him so neither should you. But this? I could get used to this, if you’ll let me,” he looked up at him again, the essence of faux innocence. Jim knew what he was asking, he could read between the lines, and gave him his answer by closing the gap between them.

The kiss was soft, it was slow, they were savouring every second for what it was worth. They had nowhere else to be, and if they did, they didn’t let it cross their minds for neither of them had ever experienced anything like this and they weren’t sure if they ever would again. It wasn’t perfect by any means, you can’t expect too much from a kiss in the middle of a nightclub, but it was so addictive and so different and so new and so exciting and just so human. It was that feeling that you never knew you wanted but once you tasted it for the first time, you just craved more and more and more.

When Jim finally pulled away, just wanting to see in Freddie’s eyes if he wanted it as much as he did, he found himself gasping slightly from the intensity of the look. It wasn’t like the one he’d gotten from Paul earlier, it was one so full of desire and passion, it was everything he’d been hoping for and more. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss, just a short one that promised so much more, before doing as Freddie had said only moments ago; he lost himself in the deafening music and the blinding lights and Freddie’s eyes.

And when he woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and Freddie in his arms, he was so glad that Freddie had stumbled into his life at six o’clock on a Sunday morning.

[newstfionline]

Sunday, October 11, 2020

Enrollment drops worry public schools as pandemic persists (AP) Rather than wait to see how her children’s Florida public school would teach students this fall, Erica Chao enrolled her two daughters in a private school that seemed better positioned to provide instruction online during the uncertainty of the coronavirus pandemic. The virtual lessons that Emily, 8, and Annabelle, 6, received in the spring while enrolled at a Miami-Dade County elementary school became a “free for all,” Chao said. The private school classes, by contrast, hold the girls’ attention, and their mother no longer worries they will fall behind if she doesn’t attend school with them at home. “For the first time since March, I was able to walk away,” Chao said. Parents across the country have faced similar choices about whether to keep their children in public schools as the pandemic extends into a new academic year. Some opted for private or charter schools. Others are dedicating themselves to homeschooling, hiring tutors to oversee multi-family “learning pods” or struggling to balance their children’s educations with work when school times and technology keep changing. Such personal decisions could exacerbate the financial problems of public school systems that receive a set amount of state funding for every student they enroll, which are the vast majority. With preliminary figures showing unexpected enrollment declines in many places, school officials used letters, phone calls and volunteers going door-to-door to persuade parents to register their youngsters before this month’s fall student census.

With Americans anxious to go out, walking tours pick up pace (AP) With an eerily quiet and empty stadium plaza behind him, the tour guide tried to help people picture what they would have seen there more than 160 years earlier. His audience of eight, all on foot, peered over masks at maps as he described hundreds of groceries, saloons, blacksmiths and 100,000 people living across two square miles—one of the pre-Civil War United States’ most congested areas. For so many Americans, this is a time of being cooped up, of being unable to interact with fellow humans and, in many cases, with the landscape itself. COVID-19 and its impact have kept many away from air travel, cruise ships and crowded beaches. Enter a decidedly unplugged alternative, a very concrete antidote to a suddenly more virtual life: the walking tour. Maybe not the most exciting outlet, but far better than being surrounded by the same four walls. “Our mental health matters also, and it’s very important for us ... when we’re really feeling extremely alienated from each other and feeling trapped in our homes, to walk our streets, in the safest way possible,” said Rebecca Manski of Social Justice Tours in New York City. Such tours have picked up in popularity for people seeking outdoor social activity while maintaining health safety precautions and staying in small groups.

With whipping winds, Delta drenches Louisiana, Mississippi (AP) Ripping tarps from already damaged roofs and scattering debris piled by roadsides, Delta inflicted a new round of destruction on Louisiana as it struck communities still reeling after Hurricane Laura took a similar path just six weeks earlier. Delta hit as a Category 2 hurricane, with top winds of 100 mph (155 kph) but rapidly grew weaker. By Saturday morning, it dwindled to a tropical storm with 45 mph (75 kph) winds. Still, forecasters warned of danger from storm surge and flash floods across much of southwestern Louisiana and parts of neighboring Texas. Mississippi also got its fair share of rain overnight.

Fishy idea (Foreign Policy) As the United Kingdom tries to beat a path out of the European Union, demanding a significant increase in fishing rights as it leaves the bloc’s common fisheries policy, Belgium’s Ambassador to the European Union Willem van de Voorde made an unlikely invocation on Wednesday: a charter signed in 1666 by King Charles II granting 50 fishermen from Bruges “eternal rights” to fish in England’s waters. It’s not unprecedented for centuries-old documents to play a role in British diplomacy today; the Anglo-Portuguese alliance of 1373 still stands and was invoked during the Falklands War. Although unlikely to sway the negotiations, the ambassador’s intervention underscores how fraught discussions over fishing rights have become.

Europe’s Economic Recovery Is a Summer Memory (NYT) What faint hopes remained that Europe was recovering from the economic catastrophe delivered by the pandemic have disappeared as the lethal virus has resumed spreading rapidly across much of the continent. After sharply expanding in the early part of the summer, Britain’s economy grew far less than anticipated in August—just 2.1 percent compared with July, the government reported on Friday, adding to worries that further weakness lies ahead. Earlier in the week, France, Europe’s second-largest economy, downgraded its forecast for the pace of expansion for the last three months of the year from an already minimal 1 percent to zero. Over all, the national statistics agency predicted the economy would contract by 9 percent this year. The diminished expectations are a direct outgrowth of alarm over the revival of the virus. France reported nearly 19,000 new cases on Wednesday—a one-day record, and almost double the number the day before. The surge prompted President Emmanuel Macron to announce new restrictions, including a two-month shutdown of cafes and bars in Paris and surrounding areas. In Spain, the central bank governor warned this week that the accelerating spread of the virus could force the government to impose restrictions that would produce an economic contraction of as much as 12.6 percent this year. The European Central Bank’s chief economist cautioned on Tuesday that the 19 countries that share the euro currency might not recover from the disaster until 2022. Summer increasingly feels like a long time ago.

North Korea parades huge, new ICBM, but Kim Jong Un stresses deterrent nature (Washington Post) North Korea showed off what appeared to be a huge, new inter-continental ballistic missile at a military parade Saturday, although leader Kim Jong Un stressed the deterrent nature of the weaponry on display—and even held out an olive branch to neighbor South Korea. The military parade, marking the 75th anniversary of the ruling Workers’ Party, featured a vast array of modernized military systems, from small arms through antitank and air- defense systems. The most closely watched, however, was what looked to be four huge, new liquid-fueled ICBMs, rolling through the main square in Pyongyang on 11-axle vehicles. Military experts—monitoring the parade through North Korean state television—said the new missile would be one of the largest road-mobile ICBMs in the world if it becomes operational, and could represent the threatened new “strategic weapon” Kim had talked of at the start of this year. For the international community, Kim’s message was: North Korea was a military force to be reckoned with, but not a threat.

Azerbaijan and Armenia Agree to Cease-Fire in Nagorno-Karabakh (NYT) Azerbaijan and Armenia negotiated a limited cease-fire early Saturday after almost two weeks of fierce fighting over a disputed province, with the goal of pausing combat long enough to collect bodies from the battlefield and to exchange prisoners. The Russian-brokered agreement, which takes effect at noon on Saturday, was short on specifics. The issue of the how the cease-fire would play out on the front lines was left to the sides to agree to in “additional” talks. People fleeing the fighting on Friday described the violence as more intense than what took place during the yearslong war between Armenia and Azerbaijan in the early 1990s that killed some 20,000 people and displaced about a million, mostly Azerbaijanis.

Clashes erupt between ultra-Orthodox and police, youth set fire to city (Jerusalem Post) Clashes broke out between police and dozens of ultra-Orthodox people late Thursday night in Modi’in Illit as a gathering was held in a synagogue in violation of coronavirus and lockdown regulations, Walla reported. Several ultra-Orthodox were arrested, and youth set aflame trees and vegetation throughout the city in outcry. A video of the scene shows dozens of ultra-Orthodox people in clashes with the police as violence erupts among the crowd, and the congregants yell “shame on you,” at the police.

Nigerian protesters demand end of an anti-robbery police unit that robs people (Washington Post) The police officers accused him of speeding, but Dare Olaitan felt that wasn’t true. The 29-year-old filmmaker in Nigeria’s biggest city, Lagos, recalls requesting proof. “Then they slapped me, yanked away my phone and keys and said, ‘We are going to an ATM,” Olaitan said. The men, who’d pulled him over in an unmarked van, identified themselves as part of the Federal Special Anti-Robbery Squad, or SARS, a Nigerian police unit that has been tasked over the last three decades with fighting violent crime, including banditry and kidnapping. Similar tales blazed across social media in recent days as thousands of protesters filled the streets in several Nigerian cities, urging the leaders of Africa’s most populous nation to disband the squad, which they say routinely commits the kind of crimes it is supposed to thwart. Human rights activists have campaigned against SARS for years, but violent videos that surfaced online this week shoved a fresh spotlight on what demonstrators condemned as police brutality. A number of Nigerian celebrities took up the cause, helping #EndSARS go massively viral. As pressure mounted, Nigerian President Muhammadu Buhari vowed Friday to investigate the squad.

[emilkertesz]

anything for a brother | solo

who: emil & august

what: a look back on his life!

where: good ol’ metropolis

when: 2001 - 20012

2001;

The first year into the millennium had brought about much excitement for the Kertesz family. After being an only child for nearly eleven years, Emil was finally given the gift of a younger brother; August, Faith and Samuel's second son and their second pride and joy. Just like his older brother, the baby was born healthy, little streaks of dark hair and with those same hazel eyes passed down from generation to generation. To put it simply, he was a beautiful child.

Emil remembered the way the baby felt in his arms the first time he visited his mother in the hospital, how it felt to hold something so delicate so close to his heart. Even at such a tender age himself, Emil spoke confidently to his parents of how he would always protect his younger brother. Even at a mere 11 years old, he would die if it meant August lived.

But the joyous time was shortlived. When August was six months old, the Kerteszs found themselves in a situation they had always feared; Samuel had lost his job, the factory laying him off alongside dozens of other men. The short recession in their country had hit them worst and the Kerteszs, already poor and living in one of the worst parts of town, were left with little money to pay their bills and put food on the table. Unable to provide for his family, the event took a dark turn on Samuel.

To cope with depression and stress, the man turned to the sinful bottle. But what began as a simple glass of whiskey each night turned into something much worse over the years. Something once relaxing turned into an addiction, a lifeline, almost. He couldn't survive without the copious amounts of beer, liquor and spirits in his system each night. Samuel became a drunken mess, angered and frustrated at the world for how they had treated his children, his wife and himself. Though over time it became less about his family and more about his own pride; that anger had to escape somehow.

August mostly escaped the violence of his father, Samuel looked at him as though he were invisible, and the child suffered abandonment from the man he was supposed to look up to. For Emil? He was a troublemaker at school, despite his kind heart, and he became a nuisance in his father's eyes who deserved the beatings he got. Faith? Well, she supposidly didn't work hard enough, she didn't bring in enough income, she liked seeing Samuel suffer as she supported the family by herself... that was everything he liked to scream in her face each night when he had her pressed harshly against the wall.

"You think I don't see how you look at me? You think I don't see you laughing at me? 'cause I ain't some stupid fucking lawyer or doctor? 'cause I'm just another fucking failure?!"

Emil remembered the first night he saw his father raise a hand against his mother. He had been sat in the kitchen, slurring his way through the night as he glared at his wife who simply did her best to ignore his harsh words. But that only seemed to agitate him further.

"Fucking look at me, Faith. Are you that ashamed of me? Look at me!" The man threw an empty bottle above her head so it smashed against the wall, making her let out a scream and stumble backwards, hand over her face to shield herself from the shattered glass. But the man wasn't finished; stumbling to his feet, he grabbed the woman by her wrist and slammed her against the wall.

"Samuel, stop! I'm not ashamed so just -"

Hidden behind the doorframe, Emil let out a gasp as he watched his mother tumble to the floor with a yell, hand moving to her cheek. There was blood on her face. Samuel had hit her and he didn't even care about her injury, all he cared about was feeling better than her. Taking a step forward, the tiny child moved forward with intentions of seeing if Faith was okay.

"What are you fucking looking at, huh?"

The next day, Emil went to school with a black eye.

2004;

For three years, the wife and two sons had to endure the tyranny of Samuel as their house became less of a home and more of a prison. Violence and screaming was simply a part of their daily routines, weird stares from their neighbours who offered no support was customary, and Faith had grown ever so lonely.

Despite his insistence that she was nothing but a problem, Samuel had done nothing himself to support his family. All he did was waste their little money on alcohol and sit in that stupid armchair of his all day long, lifelessly staring at the TV that didn't even sit right anymore.

School was an escape for Emil and August. They arrived as early as possible and left as late as they could. Emil would often land himself in detention simply so he could spend less time at home. But doing that often worried him. He feared for August and feared for his mother. Now fourteen, the teenager had grown to be nearly as tall as his father, and so often became the protective stance between Faith and his brother against Samuel. It didn't always work.

Faith often took as many shifts as she could to avoid her husband and keep income flowing, but it still wasn't enough. On one cold morning in September Emil and August left for school together but something didn't feel... normal. There was something slightly off in the air as they walked out of the house; Emil had noticed the look on his mother's face but hadn't thought much of it.

Returning home that evening just as it was getting dark, the teenage boy closed the door behind him and ushered his brother upstairs into his room before his father could choose something to pick on him about. August was only three and went to pre-school but he had begun to suffer his father's wrath as well. This constantly sent Emil into a state of fear.

As he pulled his coat away, the boy noticed his mother wasn't in the kitchen like she usually was at this time. She was always home before her children, making the teenager frown and slowly turn to look at his dad who was sat in that same, brown armchair, watching the football on T.V.

"... Where's mom?" The boy asked slowly, hanging his coat on the wall hooks.

"Where? The stupid bitch left."

Emil felt his heart fall into his stomach, dread trickling into his veins. "What... left for where?"

"Dunno. Just packed her shit and left. What'd I tell you, kid? She never even cared about you either."

Feeling tears well in his eyes, the teen attempted to keep himself composed, too scared to share weakness around his father but it was scary. Did she... really leave her children just like that? No goodbye, no explanation? She didn't take them with her, she left them with that monster.

"No... No, she wouldn't do that -"

"Well, she did." The old man let out a sneer, almost, dropping an empty bottle beside him. "Who you gonna go crying to now, Emil? You're just as pathetic as she was."

Messing with his hands, the teen shook his head, "I'm not pathetic. Neither is she!" He wanted his mother so bad.

"Was pathetic!" Samuel yelled, rising to his feet and instantly making his son cower back slightly. The action brought the man some sort of amusement. "Was... pathetic. Now where is she? Act like a man, you're nearly fifteen, aren't you? Grow up, stupid kid."

Emil felt his childhood slowly evaporating before his own eyes.

2008;

It had been four years since Faith had left without a single goodbye. Four whole years of pain and loneliness for the Kertesz brothers. Without their mother, Emil and August only had one another and the two had developed a bond unlike any other. Now seven, the younger brother went to school and relied on Emil for everything. Getting to school and back, his food, making sure he was bathed and clean. He adored Emil and saw him as a hero, like one of those superheroes you saw on TV saving the world from mass destruction. The child had fallen in love with those champions and saw them as the escape from his home life. He only wished he could be one too.

It was 24th December, Christmas Eve. hardly a joyous occasion in their household. There was no family, no gifts, no food, nothing. Just another day where they suffered at the hands of Samuel. But he was nowhere in sight, probably stumbling around some bar in town. The family car was never used by the father anymore, just Emil so he could get to school and work easily, and so he could drop August off at his baseball club after school. Anything to keep him happy.

Once a timid child in his home, Emil had grown taller than his father and stronger too. He'd built up tough skin over the years and joining the high school football team meant the once skinny teen now had plenty of muscle on his side and was able to fight back when his father grew angered. It meant he was always the target and August didn't suffer. And that made Emil happy. He couldn't wait to graduate, he'd leave this stupid town with his brother and never look back, gain full custody and begin working so they could have better lives. He looked forward to it wholeheartedly.

But Christmas Eve would have to be his small scape for now. Noticing how glum his younger brother was, the high school senior remembered the Christmas Eve parade they always had in central Metropolis each year. It was the largest parade in the world and those silly superheroes always seemed to visit the event. Whilst Emil thought superheroes were arrogant men pumped full of radiation, his brother adored them. So he had an idea. Their rundown town was only an hour out of the city, he could take the car and drive there now, make it in time so August could see parade he always watched on TV in person.

Wrapping his brother tightly in his coat, scarf and woolly hat, Emil for once was smiling as he carried his brother outside into their old car. They could be there and back before Samuel realised.

"Where are we going, Milly?" The child asked. Such a silly nickname but he didn't complain.

"It's a surprise, bud. It's Christmas Eve, we can't stay at home, can we? Let's go have some fun together. You're gonna love it." Watching his brother beam as him with rosy, red cheeks, he placed August in his car seat in the front and clicked his seatbelt tight. Soon, they were on the road.

The first thirty minutes of the drive were peaceful. They drove down the winding, dark roads as Emil blasted music to sing along to loudly and August played with his favourite toy - a figurine of the famed Electro Man. Something his brother had stolen for him from the store but he didn't need to know that part. It had been snowing the past couple of days so the landscape was coated with a thick layer of sparkling white. It looked perfect.

"Are we going to play in the snow?" August asked, turning to face his brother.

"No... we did that yesterday, remember?"

"It was fun!... Are we going to get a Slurpee? Can I have a blue one?" That was at times all Emil could offer his brother.

"A Slurpee? Boring! We're going somewhere really cool and we're nearly there now."

Despite caring for his brother, the teenager could still be a little reckless at times. Noticing how it was nearly eight o'clock, the guy hissed a curse word under his breath. It was starting soon and they weren't there.

"What's wrong?" August asked with a frown.

"Nothing bud, just running a little late." Without considering the icy roads, Emil pressed the gas pedal so they were soon speeding down the roads.

"Emil... Emil, you should slow down." The child frowned, the speed unsettling him a little. "It's dangerous."

Shaking his head, Emil kept going and turned to face his brother. "Come on, ain't this fun? No dad, no stupid house, we'll be there soon and I swear, buddy, you're gonna love it so mu --"

"EMIL!"

Large headlights and a loud horn. Startling the teenager, he realised he was diving headfirst into a large truck and with a cry, he turned the wheel sharply so they swerved out of the way. But what happened next felt slowed down, almost. Slow, but they could go nothing to stop it. Screeching brakes, a loud crash and smoke.

Then nothing.

...

The two boys had been thrown out of the car onto the middle of the road, bodies torn and battered from the impact of the crash. For a moment, Emil felt nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing but a ringing noise in his ears as he stared up at the sky, vision blurred. Coughing loudly, he felt the taste of iron in his mouth and he tried to regain his bearings, arm broken at his side. Then it hit him.

His brother.

"August?" He cried, struggling for air as his eyes stinging from the smoke as he tried to see where his brother was. "August, where are you? August!"

Hearing the sound of coughing, Emil turned his head to his side and found his brother not too far from him, also on the ground. But his coughing grew louder as he noticed blood seeping from the child's mouth, his bones bruised and many broken, and a large shard of glass sticking out of his torso. He was losing too much blood. He was dying.

"Emil." The boy cried loudly, sobbing from the pain, "Emil, make it stop!"

Not caring about the pain in his arm, the teenager moved himself to sit upright, and scrambled forwards, grabbing his brother so he was leaning against Emil's body. He was weak, lifeless, like a ghost, but he gripped onto his brother's coat as tight as he could, letting out cries of pain. Emil's worst fears were coming to life, remembering the day he first held his brother in his arms when he was born. Now he was in his arms again... dying? No, no this wasn't happening.

"Stay with me, buddy, alright?" The older brother stammered, choking slightly as he watching the life begin to slip from his eyes, "Don't leave me yet, Augie, I need you, okay? I need you so just stay right here." Feeling the grip loosen a little, Emil shook his head violently and began to scream for help.

"Somebody, help!" He yelled, his voice hoarse and breaking, hands trembling as he tried to stop the wounds from bleeding. No one heard.

It was then that he looked up to the sky. "I'm begging you, I'll do anything you want, please, anything at all, I'll do it." Who was he talking to? Higher powers? In the last attempt, Emil used prayer in an attempt to keep his brother alive, knowing they wouldn't be rescued in time. "Just take me instead, not him, take me! He can't die! Not him!"

Sobbing loudly as he felt his brother slip away, Emil refused to let go of August. He refused to give up hope but survival felt so unlikely. No one was coming to save them.

“This is all my fault...” The teenager rocked back and forth, his entire body shaking as his brother’s lifeless body laid limp against him. He was gone. “It’s my fault, it’s my fault, IT’S MY FAULT!”

It's not your fault, Emil.

The teenager froze, glancing around for the voice he couldn't see. Had help arrived? His brother would be saved, yes?

"Who... who's that?"

Your brother isn't lost just yet, Emil. I can keep him safe. He can live.

The voice echoed in his ears. It was cold, empty, lifeless, but offered words of comfort. "H... How? Where are you?"

Do something for me, and I can give him life.

"... Anything, anything, I'll do anything! Please!"

The voice grew louder. It was pleased. Had Emil gone insane?

Give up your soul for his and I will let him live. Work alongside me and he will get a second chance in life.

Eyes widening, Amir looked ahead to find a shadowy figure floating in the air, created by smoke and staring right at him. It was terrifying... and it wasn't real, was it? It was the loss of blood driving him insane.

"... How do I know you're real? That this isn't some sick joke?!"

Are you really going to give up the chance of saving your brother's life?

Glancing down at the child, Emil felt his throat grow tight and the air grew thick. He didn't want August dead. Eyes cautiously moved back to the figure and he let out a trembling sigh of pain.

"... I accept."

Excellent.

Before Emil could say anything else, the shadowy figure lunged towards the boy who let out a large scream, the darkness of the voice seeping its way inside his body. At that moment, a trade was made, and Emil felt the life from his body escape and his body shut down, eyes closing as he fell to the floor. August opened his eyes with a gasp for air, and his own life returned.

Emil had sold his soul to the devil.

2009;

One year on and things had changed in many ways for the Kertesz brothers. After recovering from their injuries, both August and Emil had moved on in their lives and gotten as far away from their father as possible. Having fought for custody, the teenage boys had moved out of their deadbeat town and into the city. Emil worked three jobs and August attended a better school in Metropolis. They both lived in a van the eldest son had stolen from a car sales company one evening. It wasn't much, but they were safe and happy. Well... August was happy.

The child had little memories of that night and believed his brother had saved him in the crash. Whilst he was right, the eight-year-old knew nothing of what events had occurred. Emil's life had changed forever, and it would never be the same again. The teenage boy, once full of life, had become empty and heartless, only caring for himself and his brother. Why did he feel so... lost? Cold? It was like he didn't feel a thing anymore. No pain, no sadness, anything. That's what happens when you sell your soul away. What else is left?

Though he didn't know it yet, Emil had sold his life away to be a servant to the cruel and wicked Satan himself. He was now a puppet of the Devil, who had shown mercy and had allowed the boy time to recover and start a new life with his brother. But a year had passed and it was time for Emil to uncover what his new life really meant. The new potential he had... the power he possessed.

His brother, after much begging, had been allowed to stay at a school friends for the night. Protective, especially after the crash, Emil was reluctant to accept but wanted August to have as much as a normal childhood as he possibly could. This a fresh beginning. Walking home that night through the seedy streets to find his van, the man had his hands in his hoodie pockets when a certain voice made its presence known again.

Emil, it's good to see you healthy again.

Nearly falling over from shock, the man glanced around to find no one around but him. Not again. That voice... it had returned after the night of the crash. It was... real? It wasn't a hallucination? This entire time, Emil had believed August's survival to be a miracle and the loss of blood had caused him to hear voices in his head. He was very much alive... the voice was very real.

"I thought you weren't real."

You sold your soul to me and you thought I wasn't real? You have much to learn, child. This is just the beginning of our friendship.

"... Friendship?"

Don't you remember that night? You made a deal with me. You promised to do my bidding and I would let your brother live. I can take him away again if you'd like.

"NO!" Emil cried angrily, coming to a halt. "Don't... don't touch him. I'm listening, I ready to... to help."

Good. I like this attitude of yours. As the world's current aide to Satan, I can assure you, you will lead a very interesting life.

"... S-satan?" He stammered with wide eyes. "You're... you're real?"

Of course, I am. I oversee everything that goes on in this world, but I need someone on the ground helping me with my work.

"Work?"

To make humans repent for their sins. This world is full of them, especially this pathetic city of yours. Someone needs to help me find these people, and that someone is you. In return, your brother lives, and you are gifted with powers people can only dream of. These powers will allow you to find those who need punishment, but... I will also allow you to use them to your advantage. Use them to give you and your brother the best life you can have, and I will turn a blind eye to your... methods.

"... Powers? Like those superheroes?"

Superheroes?! Don't insult m--... Fine, I suppose you could put it like that, but you, Emil, are more powerful than all of them. The strength of fifty men. The ability to conjure and control hellfire. You can see into the pasts of every human, see each and every sin they committed, and let them suffer at the hands of the reaping glare. No one survives that glare, I can assure you. That power sounds nice, doesn't it?

Staring at the ground, Emil nodded slowly. He had felt so weak and tormented by the world for so long, now it was his turn to feel powerful. That sounded fantastic.

"I... I'll do it. I'll make them all pay for what they did. And I know... just where to start."

2012;

In three years since earning his powers, Emil had done exactly as his ruler had told him to do. He had followed the rules, tracked down sinner after sinner, and made sure his brother had the best life he possibly could. Through these people he found, Emil had gotten himself wrapped up in the criminal world too... and he liked it. Having unlimited power in a world where he could do as he wished, the man had slowly risen the ranks over the years, made a name in the underground world and established a growing empire for himself that ruled the illicit world of Metropolis.

August was oblivious to it all, of course. He had been told that during one of Emil's jobs as a waiter, a businessman had taken a liking to his work ethic and offered him an internship at his business. Through that, he had created a business of his own. A delivery and chauffeur business that ran successfully in the city and brought in much income. From the outside world, that's what he made his growing empire to be, it could even be used. From the inside? The only things they delivered were drugs, weapon goods, and members of opposing factions in the area.

Life was great. He was full of riches and full of power, it was something the man revelled in so confidently. The once kind boy had become a heartless, cruel dictator who ran the criminal world with an iron fist. He felt no shame in his power, who he and who he worked for, not that anyone knew. When you found about Emil's darker side? You didn't live to tell that story.

But something didn't feel right. For years, he had made others repent for their actions, but... for once, Emil wanted personal revenge. Personal revenge against his father, Samuel, who still lived in that awful home in that awful town. Still sat in that awful chair.

He had been stood outside for some time, eyes wandering to the bedroom windows. He needed some things from the house, photos, belongings of his mother. With little hesitation, he walked over to the door and knocked. And waited. And waited. He could hear the tumbling from inside, a gruff voice of a man who stumbled over to the door and opened it slowly.

"What do you want?" Still as awful as ever. Time had treated him unwell. Time had treated Emil... perfectly. This made the son smirk softly.

"Hello, father. It's been too long."

Samuel's eyes grew with confusion as he stared up the unrecognisable man. This man... covered head to toe in tattoos, expensive clothing, a scar running down his face and an extremely muscular body... was his son?

"... Emil? What are you d-doing --" The younger male shoved the father aside so he could step through the door, heading straight for the stairs.

"This isn't a visit. I'm collecting what's mine and then I'll be on my way." Walking up quickly, he made his way into his old bedroom. Untouched, as expected. Going to the drawer by his bed, the man opened up the storage and grabbed the precious photos he kept inside. Smiling for a moment, he placed them in his pocket before heading to his parents bedroom.

"The fuck do you think you're doin --"

"Shut up! Stupid man." He hissed angrily, heading inside and finding the remains of his mother's items still scattered around. Without thinking, he grabbed her old ruby necklace, her bottle of perfume, and the cardigan she always wore and liked to wrap Emil in when he was a child. All warm memories. Placing everything into a duffle bag, he headed back downstairs and placed the bag outside the door.

Then he looked back at his father. "You look awful."

"Is this really all you wanted, Emil? Some stupid photos and a necklace? Or have you come back to laugh at your old man."

Placing his hands behind his back, Emil tilted his head slowly and smirked, "Honestly? Both. I came to see what you were doing these days. Nice to know you're still a deadbeat fool like you always were."

The man stumbled towards him, raising his fist like he always did when his son was young. This time, things were different. Grabbing his father's hand, he forcibly moved back to the side with ease, hearing a cracking noise as the old man let out a cry of pain.

"Does that hurt? Awh." Emil was quite a sadist at times, watching his father suffer brought him immense joy. "Don't worry, this pain will be over in no time, I can assure you that." Stepping forward, the son stared the man dead in his eyes as his own turned a fiery golden, deep with a glare. The repenting stare, something everyone would fear. It caused the sinner to feel every ounce of pain they had ever caused on another person, cause them to relive every horror they had committed in the past.

Emil watched with glee as his father cowered in fear but couldn't escape his grip, being forced to feel the pain of all the times he'd heard his sons, his wife, relive each moment. But then... Emil saw something he didn't recognise. A memory he never knew existed;

...

"What are you doing, Faith?"

It was Samuel, younger, stood in his bedroom. Faith was there too, three small suitcases in front of her. One belonging to her, the others belonging to her sons. She had been packing her things away in them, as well as August and Emil's, all of their belongings. Where was she going?

She looked up at Samuel in horror, growing tense and stepping back.

"Nothing. I... I'm just reorganising our clothes. It really needed it so I--"

"You were going to leave me, were you? Take the kids and go, right?"

"What? No... I--"

"Don't lie to me, Faith. Don't. Fucking. Lie." He had been watching her for some time. He held something in his hand... a belt. He began to move closer to her.

"Sammy... Samuel, what are you doing?" She stammered, eyes fearful and voice timid. "Put... put that down, I swear, put it down or --"

The boys were at school so they never heard their mothers screams. Never heard their father choke the life out of her so heartlessly, like he hadn't fallen in love with her all those years ago. If I can't have you, no one can! Was all he had said. Faith had never abandoned her children. She never would. Samuel had killed her in anger and rage, buried her lifeless body in the forests in town. And Emil had never known.

...

Breaking apart from the stare, Emil said nothing. He simply looked ahead as he processed what he had witnessed. His mother was dead... this entire time. She wasn't halfway across the country with a new husband, new kids. She was dead, six feet under in some random forest no one cared about. No one had ever cared about her except for him.

"You killed her."

"Emil..."

"You... you took her away from and you DIDN'T GIVE A SHIT! YOU TORE THE LIFE OUT OF HER LIKE SOME ANIMAL AND YOU STILL DON'T CARE!" He roared at the top of his voice, pacing back and forth as his temper was on the brink of exploding, his eyes still full of fire.

Teeth gritted, hands clenched, the man let out loud breaths and as smoke rose from his shoulders. "You're fucking dead, you understand?... YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!"

Never had the man felt so angry in his life. But at this point, it wasn't anger anymore. It was pure instinct. Nothing humane was left in him anymore. Before Samuel could act, he watched as his son almost... burned away, his body replaced by some sort of fire demon that towered over him, covered in flames with horns and talons. It was terrifying. Emil had never accessed this kind of power in his life, yet, and he didn't understand what it was, but he didn't care. He relished in it and allowed the demon to take over.

Samuel's death was marked as an accidental fire started by the pit in his home. No one knew that in reality? A fiery demon full of rage had burned the man until nothing about a man remained, and in a roar had allowed the house to become engulfed by deep flames and smoke, burning it to the ground. No one would miss Samuel but no one understood. Why was this fire so powerful? Had someone started it?

Not someone, but a thing. For nothing human remained inside Emil anymore.

[rinah-creates]

Thank you @flashfictionfridayofficial for the prompt! I wanted to go with Frean at first, but Ryn had other ideas... well.

Title: A long time ago...

WC: 827

Prompt: FFF37: Strange lands

Ryn stood by the single glazed window of their room, a chipped cup in their hand. It was half full with tea, courtesy of the old lady living two floors down, who had gifted them a box of loose tea as a thank you for helping her carry her groceries up the stairs. In an attempt to make it last as long as possible, Ryn only used few leaves and the result was a slightly fragrant water they insisted on calling tea. But it was warm and that was enough.

Gazing out the window, Ryn could not deny that the view at least was beautiful. They did share the kitchen and bathroom with four other tenants, one of whom had a small child, and their room was barely big enough for a single bed, a suspended cupboard and a small table to fit, but the view was good. The dormer window overlooked a good slice of residential Glasgow, from high enough that Ryn could see roofs and chimneys as well as trees and houses. And in the golden sunset, it was peaceful. Ryn had taken to meditating in front of the window for that particular reason.

While not meditating per se at the moment, Ryn was reflecting on the past two weeks. They had arrived in Glasgow with a small bag containing a change of clothes in the same dull grey and cream as the ones they were wearing, some cash, enough to “last you a few months if you’re frugal", their birth certificate and their NI card, both stolen from the archives, and a slip of paper with their current address on it. Nothing else.

Glasgow had been a strange land when they first arrived and it was still proving itself a challenge. One of the few things Ryn had known about the outside world was that people had jobs and paid bills. They had asked the landlord to explain exactly what they would be paying, and he did, gruff tone and glaring daggers. But a job... that proved to be more complicated. First, the problem of finding an opportunity. Ryn was not used to not being given something to do. They tried looking in newspapers, usually a few days old, discarded by their neighbours, but nothing they found had been in any way... interesting. And all provided a phone number to call or an e-mail address, or both. Ryn had neither phone nor e-mail. So they bought the cheapest mobile phone they could find, with a pre-pay service. The brick like thing was now on the table, charging. They persisted, calling about any job they thought sounded a bit less boring, but most required previous experience. The few times they were called in for an interview they were summarily rejected.

Ryn’s thoughts wandered back to earlier that day. Walking down the street, on their way to buy some groceries, the Light had shone upon them... that is, they were lucky. A bookshop with an old and ragged front had a “help wanted” note in the window. Ryn had always liked working with books, even in the Temple. They tried the door, only to find it locked. In a spur of the moment decision, they walked into the shop next door. They stopped three steps in the door, transfixed. The shop was filled to the brim with clothes. In all colours, shapes and sizes. The far wall was lined with shoes of different kinds.

“Can I help you, lass?” The kind looking shopkeeper had startled them, but his words stuck with them and were now ringing and swirling in their head.

They had asked, to the man’s bewilderment, if he was a seamster. He had laughed. Then he got them talking. They told him as much as they could without giving away too much and the man decided that “you lass will never get a job looking like that” and offered to help them find some clothes.

It took the owner of the bookshop next door an hour to return from lunch, during which time Ryn had paraded around in the second hand clothes shop in an array of dresses, suits and casual wear, deciding to buy a few of each. They added some pyjamas and other personal items to the pile. As soon as the items were paid for, a surprisingly low price which Ryn suspected the man had somehow rigged to be lower than it should have been, he had ordered Ryn in a changing room with a pair of plain jeans and a shirt and told them to change... They had gotten the job in the bookshop...

Ryn’s thoughts drifted back to the present, to the now dark roofs of the city. With a sigh, they dragged their hand over their face, yawned and stretched. They chugged their now cold tea, not wanting it to go to waste and set about the task of putting their new clothes in the cramped cupboard that served as a wardrobe.

Criticism is always welcome ^^

Thank you @rainy-rose for the 3 AM beta =)))

[littlemisssquiggles]

RWBY Musings #75: My One issue with Neopolitan and Cinder Fall: A Squiggle Meister’s Blunt Ramblings.

So…I recently read through the notes from the RWBY V6 Commentary by Redditeer: Sweetfable as shared by @soldieroflandb​. According to the post, it was mentioned in the commentary on Chapter 5 that Neo wasn’t originally planned to appear in V6.

The original note read:

“…Neo wasn’t originally planned to be in this Volume, but was decided when they thought of what they could do better to make Cinder’s storyline better and for when Cinder gets to Atlas they thought her having a partner was cool…”

This point brings to light my one issue with Neo’s stark return to main RWBY: the CRWBY Writers DIDN’T NEED to bring Neo back .

Before some of you more passionate Neo stans prepare your pitchforks, let me just make this clear. I don’t dislike Neopolitan. I have no issue with her as a character. She isn’t one of my favourites but I do like her design and I’ve enjoyed what the showrunners have done with her (and Roman Torchwick a la RWBY Chibi). 

That being said, this is a blunt rambling so I’m going to be blunt here folks. Neo was a character who I didn’t expect to see again in main RWBY after V3. I would’ve quicker expected Torchwick’s corpse resurrected from the belly of the Gryphon Grimm to be paraded around Weekend at Bernie’s style before seeing Neo.

Despite hearing through the grape vine for years on end that the CRWBY Writers promised to bring her back at some point, I honestly never believed this info since personally I felt like Neo didn’t need to be brought back. I understand the appeal of Neo and why she’s such a popular fan favourite. However, in terms of story, she didn’t really have one back when she was first introduced. At least not one substantive enough for me to hook onto and desire to learn more of. At least not until V6.

Neo was mostly featured as a devoted accomplice to Roman Torchwick. The Harley Quinn to his Joker without the abuse. So her story correlated with his. So naturally, when Torchwick was killed off, I figured that was Neo’s final curtain call too. Despite her disappearance via runaway umbrella being a cliff-hanger, I still did not anticipate Neo’s return. Nor did I need for it to happen.

The CRWBY Writers didn’t need to bring Neo back. Her presence in the story, unfortunately to say, is unnecessary. At least in my eyes. This is only my opinion after all. As a matter of fact, I feel like the Writers have written themselves into a corner by bringing her back. You already have a full cast of undeveloped characters pining for focus. Why bring back Neo when you could easily have done the same idea with someone else already pre-established?

In the past, there wasn’t really much from Neo’s side of things to make me go ‘Oh I would love to learn more about her’. She wasn’t like Adam or Emerald or even Mercury who each had a thread of a cool backstory itching to be unravelled prior to the Mistral Trilogy. Neo didn’t have that. But now the CRWBY are attempting to give her one by dropping breadcrumbs of a potential past with Torchwick as hinted during the RWBYV6 OST ‘One Thing’ and the visuals from V6 C5.

That’s all fine and dandy but…this is all happening only because Neo was brought back and they had to give her a motive for being back in the current narrative. We’re only getting all this new stuff on Neo because the Writers made the decision to resurrect her from the pit of obscurity---a decision that wasn’t planned before and…again, didn’t need to happen.

You could have easily replace Neo with another pre-established character who’s been a part of the Mistral Arc since V4 and it would make no difference. By bringing back Neo, the CRWBY missed a shot to further develop characters such as Emerald Sustrai.

If the Writers wanted Cinder to have a partner for Atlas then why not make it Emerald? Why not introduce a plot point where following the Triumph of Haven, Emerald got wind that Cinder was still alive and abandoned Mercury and Hazel to go find her before they made their return to Salem.

V6 C4 indicated that Salem was already fully aware of Cinder’s blunder and fate from V5 just as how it was shown that Salem had a Seer Grimm at Haven. The same Grimm she used to keep tabs on Lionheart, communicate with him and eventually kill him. If the Seer Grimm was already pre-established in V5 then why not have this same Grimm locate Emerald, Mercury and Hazel while they were still in Mistral?

Instead of having the trio travel all the way back to the Dark Domain just for Salem to punish them with info she already knew about, why not have Salem just have her Seer Grimm track down Emerald, Merc and Hazel and deal the same punishment while they were steal weak and vulnerable following their defeat.

Sure it would’ve made Salem seem rather heartless to punish her minions while they were still recovering from their failed mission. Then again, that’s the point. Salem wasted no time in axing off Lionheart. Imagine if she had done the same to Emerald, Hazel and Mercury?

Salem could have easily thrown her tantrum and had the Seer Grimm threaten to choke the life out of Hazel right in front of Emerald’s eyes before she blurted out that Cinder was to blame. This same revelation from V6 C5 could’ve happened in Mistral before the return to the Dark Domain. We could have gotten a scene where Emerald contemplates leaving in search of Cinder upon learning that she was still alive.

We could have even gotten a small confrontation between her and Mercury before a bitter parting of ways. That whole conversation of why Mercury is fighting with Salem could’ve served greater purpose and meaning in a scene where these the Jaded Duo were deciding for themselves their new paths in the story moving forward.

Imagine…Emerald, Mercury and Hazel resting off before they return to Salem. After learning of Cinder being alive, Emerald decides that she’s going to go find her. To continue being by her side. That’s her final decision. Despite Salem choosing to abandon her, Emerald refused to leave Cinder alone. 

She chooses to remain completely loyal to Cinder and when probed about it by a confrontational Mercury,  she could give the same excuse that Cinder is the closest thing to a mother Emerald ever had. Whether Mercury wanted to hear this or not, Cinder is who Emerald considered her family. More so than him. The guy who is always by her side and still stood with her even when he could’ve left her behind at Haven.

This could’ve been a great Emerald and Mercury moment to kind of emphasize what the two meant to each other outside of Cinder.

This small squabble could’ve then led in the two having their little spa which would essentially reveal the canon truth about Mercury’s father; highlighting her stance on family in general. You could have had Emerald and Mercury fight but in the end, Merc is forced to leave Emerald to her own endeavours.

She made her choice just as much as he made his. She was going to go look for Cinder, be at her side. As Mercury moved on to work with Salem, seeing her as the winning side. The side where he didn’t have to work so tirelessly seeing as that’s the only life he’s lived.

This could’ve been done and it could’ve been a double whammy for these two’s development. Instead we got the Jaded duo more or less being underused for V6 with the next chapter of their stories left unclear.

Are Emerald and Mercury both going to go look for Cinder at some point? Are they tasked to Vacuo as Hazel’s partners while Tyrian and Watts aid Salem with the Fall of Atlas? What is next for these two? 

I’m not exactly sure. But you do see the missed chance with these two, correct? If there was one character who should have been Cinder’s partner for Atlas, it’s Emerald. She already shared a known attachment to Cinder since V1. We all know how loyal she is to her. The CRWBY Writers even highlighted that with how devastated she was by her downfall in V5. They could’ve used that to further the shared story between these two. But no. Bringing back a character who shared zero ties to Cinder outside of Roman Torchwick to be her partner for next arc is much cooler. Okay then. 

I’m going to assume the Writers weren’t planning on focusing on Emerald much in V6. Saving it for another future volume, possibly. Well if the Writers didn’t want Emerald, who else could they have used other than Neo.

Well…Adam Taurus would’ve been my next best candidate, believe it or not. I mean why not Adam? Just like Neo, he was a character previously made into an accomplice by Cinder. If memory serves correctly, the only reason Adam wound up working with Cinder was due to her intimidating him with the use of her Maiden magic.

Imagine if…we received a parallel that harkens back to that episode in V3. Cinder went to Adam to scout him and it was only after she received part of her Maiden powers did she gain his interest long enough for her to tempt him with her demands.

Imagine if this time Adam scouted Cinder. Picture Cinder being left weakened by her defeat against Raven. So weak that she’s unable to activate her Maiden magic for some time. Imagine Ms. Malachite double crossing Cinder and planning to turn her over for bounty money before Adam shows and ‘saves’ Cinder by slaughtering Ms. Malachite and her Spiders. 

I mean they could’ve easily been killed off since they served no further purpose in V6 beyond providing a narrative means for Cinder to reunite with Neo in the most contrived way possible which, honestly was waste of an interesting new character.

Am I the only person who actually really liked Ms. Malachite and her Spiders?  I feel like they should’ve been brought in earlier in the Mistral Arc (probably as earlier as V4) or saved for another season like Atlas or even Vacuo perhaps. There’s a part of me that’s even starting to bank on the concept of Ms. Malachite being one half of a twin sister.

According to the RWBY V6 Commentary notes, Ms. Malachite is the mother of the Malachite Sisters from V1. Since her daughters are identical twins, who’s to say twins don’t run in the family and Ms. Malachite isn’t a twin herself. I mean it would fit. It’d be interesting if there’s another Little Ms. Malachite, a younger twin sister who runs the Spiders over in another kingdom. But that’s just my headcanons.

Anyways, resuming talk on Adam and Cinder. Having Adam be Cinder’s accomplice instead of Neo would have fit also.

Both characters were originally considered powerful leaders in their respective factions. Both have suffered humiliation and fall from grace by the hands of characters from the same team. Both have revenge vendettas against said characters. And as of V6, both characters were alone and vulnerable; abandoned by their followers to claw their way back up through nothing but their own strength and cunning. Adam and Salem working together would have been a cool duo to see.

I’m going to be honest again here folks. I’m not a Tauratier but like many of his fans, I share in the sentiment that the way his story was concluded was a disappointment. A mishandling of a character who originally started off rather interesting. I will admit that.

One of the ways the Writers missed a chance to further develop Adam is having him team up with Cinder with to achieve the one goal they both craved---revenge. The Writers created the subplot of Neo wanting revenge for Torchwick’s death to give Cinder someone to share in her hatred for Ruby.

But in all honesty, there was no need for that. You already had a character like Adam Taurus who was on the same kind of war path. Sure it wasn’t for the same person but Adam and Cinder could’ve still shared in their path of vengeance especially since their targets: Ruby and Blake are friends and teammates.

Adam could’ve easily been Cinder’s partner for Atlas. As a matter of fact, he would’ve been perfect for Atlas. Atlas should’ve been the stage for Adam’s curtain call. I wasn’t upset with the way how the Writers decided to kill off Adam. Minus the tag team murder from Yang and Blake and the lack of emotional repercussions from having hero characters commit such an act. Adam being defeated by Yang and Blake and falling to his death referencing Gaston from the Beauty and the Beast was very fitting. It made sense.

I just wished it wasn’t in Argus where he was killed off. Adam has zero connection to Argus. I mean why kill him off in Argus when you established within the same moment that Adam has ties to Atlas.

The CRWBY highlighted that Adam has a connection to the SDC given his scar yet they kill him in a place that has no connection to him at all. Everything about the Adam Final fight was nearly perfect except for the build-up and the setting. Showing Adam branded with the SDC logo before killing him off before the audience could get the opportunity to learn the backstory of his history with the SDC felt like such a waste that I kind of wish they had done something else with Adam’s face reveal.

I would’ve taken him having a regular scar than the SDC logo because by planting that, you’re given the audience the impression that there is more to learn about his character. But before they could get the chance to see that, he gets axed. Such a waste of a good potential plot thread man.

It would have been better to learn more about that before Adam got killed. You had an entire character trailer where that part of Adam’s past could’ve been delved into. Not to mention that it would have made more sense if Adam was killed in Atlas because that’s where the Schnee Dust Company is located. Adam should’ve died in Atlas, not Argus. That’s basically my point on that. Moving along.

As I’ll say again, I have no issue with Neo. I just feel like her return honestly stole a chance for focus from characters whose stories could’ve used it when hers didn’t, y’know what I mean?

As a matter of fact, why bring back Neo for the main purpose of having her pair up with Cinder in the first place? You brought her back just so she could have a partner in Atlas? Why? Was that truly necessary? Why have Cinder have a partner at all? Why not just allow her to have her own journey?

As mentioned in V6 C4, the reason why Salem decided to abandon Cinder in the dirt was so that she could learn from her mistakes the hard way.

Cinder is already a pretty intimidating and powerful character. She doesn’t really need an accomplice. At the moment Neo is being used only as a pawn to Cinder---a means through which she can kill Ruby Rose which, if you were to sit down and truly consider, wasn’t crucial to her story. We’ve seen Cinder use and abuse pawns since V2. Neo is no exception. It would have actually been more fascinating to see Cinder on her own to be honest.

To find her back after hitting rock bottom for a third time. Third time’s the charm, am I right? Cinder’s side of the story should’ve focused more on giving us viewers more insight into Cinder; helping us understanding why and how she became to be the megalomaniac she is presently.

Instead of steering her story in her finding another pawn to manipulate, I would have much rather watch small snippets of Cinder learning to cope and fend for herself without a pawn. And having her be alone in the Mistral underbelly, where you can’t trust anyone---not even the people who you believe you can intimidate---was the perfect setting to do that.

Add in my earlier idea of Cinder being too weak to use her Maiden magic and that could be a challenge for Cinder. Heck. You could have even added another layer to that where Cinder begins to lose control of the amputated Grimm arm attached to her body; tying back to the training she did with Salem back in V4.

Instead of bringing back Neo, it could’ve been more interesting to have Cinder toil away in the slums of Mistral, being made a target by Ms. Malachite and her Spiders who would hunt her down to turn her in for profit since she was a wanted felon.

Through such a struggle, we could have gotten a bit more on Cinder’s backstory as this moment of complete helplessness could’ve been used as an opportunity to have Cinder suffer frequent flashbacks explaining her backstory and how she came to meet Salem.

Imagine if …Cinder had found herself in a position where she felt she could manipulate Ms Malachite and her  Spiders only for them to double-cross, capture and torture her. Since V6 established Ms. Malachite being a sort of information broker, perhaps she already knew the important details about Cinder. Minus her Maiden powers, of course. Enough to pull the wool over her eyes.

Imagine if…Ms. Malachite was a watered down female version of Ramsey Bolten from Game of Thrones. Not as vile but still a master sadistic manipulator who liked to use torture to control her pawns. This could play into what she told Cinder in V6 C2:

“…Y’know I used to be afraid of spiders. Wanna know what I did about it?” “Learned to kill them?”

“Oh no. The world needs Spiders. I just made the spiders work for me.”

Imagine if…in an alternate version of Ms. Malachite, the way in which she got her loyal Spiders to do her bidding and remain devoted to her was through manipulation and cruelty tactics, breaking them down physically and psychologically until they were completely subservient to her. That’s when they’re branded them with her tattoo. As a sign that they’re not just her pawns. They’re her property. She owned them to use as she saw fit.

In my alternate interpretation of Ms. Malachite, I pictured her as being a Black Widow Spider Faunus with a unique trait. When used lightly, her spider venom can cause vivid hallucinations and this is what Malachite used to manipulate her pawns. She injects them with her venom which puts them in a trance and that’s how she slowly breaks them down into her loyal subjects.

Imagine if… Cinder was placed in a scenario like that where she’s broken down by Ms. Malachite who makes her her slave. This could’ve been interesting for Cinder to go through because of the strong Cinderella reference.

Picture Ms Malachite taking inspiration from the wicked stepmother who whips the once confident Cinder Fall into submission and during these scenes we get glimpses of Cinder’s past where there was another character, a former parental figure of some kind from her past who would treat Cinder the same way until Salem entered the picture.

Shoot. You could have even introduced a subplot where Cinder, through her strength of character and resolve broke free of Malachite’s hold on her before killing her. By killing Ms. Malachite, the Spiders swear their loyalty to Cinder, viewing her as some kind of Goddess (to parallel how Tyrian sees Salem). And that’s how Cinder would’ve gotten to Atlas. Not through Neo. But through the Spiders and their resources because obviously they would have those means.

V6 could’ve been the story where Cinder takes the step forward to forge her own army. And all the while this is happening, Salem watches on from afar, proud at her creation for her little experiment had worked. Her tough love tactic had provided Cinder the motivation and incentive she needed to become the person she strongly desires to become. One who is strong and powerful to be feared by others.

Does anyone else remember Cinder’s words from V3?

'...I want to be strong. I want to be feared. I want to be powerful...'

That’s Cinder’s goal. That’s who she wants to become.  At least that’s what was established prior. V6 should’ve been another pivotal stepping stone in Cinder’s story towards that goal.

In the beginning, I used to think that Cinder Fall would become the character who would one day rise up and overthrow Salem. I used to think that Salem was grooming Cinder to become her successor back when my previous headcanon was that at some point, Salem would either betray Cinder and steal her body. Or…Cinder would betray Salem and take her place as the Mother of Grimm. Becoming sthe student who became powerful enough to upstage their own master.

This was before the whole bit about Salem being immortal and indestructible came into play.

Now instead of seeing Cinder as someone who would one day rise up and succeed Salem as the main big-bag of RWBY, I get the strong impression that the CRWBY might be setting her up to go out in a similar fashion to Adam Taurus. I feel like Atlas might wind up being the setting for Cinder’s final curtain call. They’ve already baited her death like twice using her vendetta against Ruby Rose.

We all know Cinder is going to fight Ruby (and/or Oscar) at some point for Atlas and there is a high probability that she will lose that fight again. This will be Cinder’s third defeat and at this point, if she isn’t killed off for good then I would sincerely begin to question why she is being kept around in the series.

If you may pardon my blunt honesty here again. Cinder, to me, was a character who didn’t have a lot going for her in the beginning. She was introduced as this character working closer with Salem to achieve her goals. We didn’t honestly understand why. It wasn’t until V3 did viewers receive an inkling of something that could be considered a motivator to shape Cinder’s story.

She’s a character who wants to become strong, powerful and feared. Because of this you might now ask questions such as why does she want this? What happened to her in her past to make this her main goal? However as of V4, Cinder’s current key motivator is her vendetta against Ruby.

I’m sorry, I’m just seeing a pattern here. It’s the same thing that happened with Adam. Prior to RWBY, Adam was established in Black Trailer as someone who once fought alongside Blake for the Faunus as part of the White Fang.

In V3, it was highlighted that Adam was someone who fought strictly for the Faunus. If my memory serves correctly, I remember one of the reasons Adam didn’t want to work with Cinder in beginning being that he didn’t wish for any of his men and fellow Faunus dying for a human cause or something along those lines.

It’s why I, again, can’t help but empathize a bit with the Tauratiers. Before V3, Adam’s devotion to being one of those who fight on the behalf of the Faunus was part of his character. Heck it’s what brought him and Blake together. They bonded over that same ambition. Where they split was in their approach. But at the core, they both desired the same for their race and seemed the share in the same passion for the cause.

Adam having a former romantic relationship with Blake that turned abusive was only introduced in V3. Before that, it could be argued that that wasn’t the case. That being said, my issue wasn’t that Adam was turned into the abusive ex-boyfriend to Blake. There are interesting ways that side of him could’ve compelled his character. Nope. My issue was that Adam’s relationship with Blake became his entire character and the other trait about him being someone who took a more radical approach to fighting for his people was completely dropped in favour of this. 

Adam the abusive ex was admittedly the weakest part of Adam’s character. This is what made him so boring for me to follow after V5. Of all the aspects to Adam that they could have run with, they chose the weaker of the two. They didn’t even do a decent job with it either. I would have much preferred to watch a story where Adam went down believing that his way was the only way to achieve the equality that he believed his people deserved even if such a frame of mind brought him to his own endgame. Adam could’ve been the kind of villain to make the audience think and have meaningful debates over his views.

I would have preferred that guy as opposed to the wet paper tower he turned into after V3; throwing temper tantrums and annoyingly blaming all his problems on Blake in a past relationship that felt so bare-bones compared to everything else discerned about him.

They even missed an opening to use Sienna Khan as someone partially responsible for grooming Adam into the man he became. I mean, they tried to sell the idea for the V6 Adam Character Trailer. However it all felt short-lived and forced given the events of V5. I can honestly go on with my issues with Adam Taurus and the topic of his eventual character assassination as labelled by the FNDM. If folks would like to hear my views on that, feel free to ask me and I’ll share my full opinion on the matter.

In the meantime, let’s resume my main focus of this post: Cinder and Neo. Like I said, Adam’s vendetta with Blake became his entire character motive after V3 and I’m sadly seeing the same pattern being repeated with Cinder. Cinder’s vendetta with Ruby is her driving force right now.

While I actually don’t have an issue with Ruby being a target for Cinder, my concern is how it’s going to be executed moving forward toward Atlas. By my assumptions, I figured Cinder is going to be killed off between V7 and V8. But from my knowledge, there are some of you who believe in the concept of Cinder being staying long enough in the story to be redeemed like Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

I…honestly don’t see it. Sorry folks. I’m not really an advocate for Cinder’s redemption. I am neither bashing anyone for wanting this to become canon nor am I saying it’s impossible. I’m just saying that if you were to ask me if I think Cinder can be redeemed, I’d honestly say no.

I only believe in a much more compelling arc for Cinder. An arc that possibly depicts her falling from grace for a third and brutal time, suffering a brief moment of happiness or change of heart only to revert back to her old ways highlighting that no matter what, power is what Cinder craves most of all and she’d stop at nothing to get it. Not even a momentary bliss can thwart her lust for that as she believes being powerful and feared by all who oppose her is her destiny. Her ever after.

Like the villain from The Box Trolls. Despite the thing that he desired most being detrimental to his health, the villain still insisted on obtaining it by any means possible because that’s what he believed was his destiny. This is how I see Cinder going down to the bitter end. She would continue to go after that lust for power, even to the point of it turning her into a monster in the process.

I have a better chance of believe this is Cinder’s fate. If not that then a swift death via character assassination like what happened with Adam.

But a redemption? Where she could potentially turn good? Join the good guys? Fight alongside them to stop Salem?

I…yeah I don’t really see that, sorry. In order for me to believe in that then I need evidence. I need examples of Cinder genuinely going through brief seconds of doubting her actions or having some semblance of guilt to get this kind of impression. Nothing so far with Cinder hints to me that she feels the slightest bit of remorse for his past actions and the people she’s hurt and killed. It’s difficult to believe in this kind of character turning good when all I’ve seen is her hurt other characters and not think twice about it.

If the CRWBY Writers wished to appeal more to Cinder’s humanity, they could’ve shown her thinking or being concerned for Emerald in the same motherly manner that the Sustrai girl described Cinder to be. Cinder’s affiliation with Emerald could’ve been the perfect platform to show Cinder in a more empathetic light.

But nope. She forgot all about Emerald as soon as she ran into Neo. I know it’s meant to establish that Cinder doesn’t care as much for Emerald as she does for her. This only further confirms my point. I don’t see Cinder being redeemed.

Either she will be killed off at some point during the story or the CRWBY Writers will find some new way to continue to string Cinder along for the remainder of RWBY with Neo tagging along. Heck it wouldn’t surprise me if Neo is turned into Cinder’s plot armour, ensuring that she will never be killed off for anything. Since, after all, it would be kind of silly if the Writers only brought Neo back to play protégée to Cinder only for her to return to the pit of obscurity the minute Cinder is axed off, right? Not unless Neo gets her own happy ending (with Henry Marigold) or becomes a good guy?

And it’s not like they’re going to make Neo Cinder’s replacement. That might not work. Not Unless there is some twist where a defeated Cinder Fall, on her last breath, ends up ‘eating’ Neo to possess her body; courtesy of the Geist Grimm arm attached to her body? That…actually isn’t bad but what do I know, y’know?

As always these are only my views on this. Feel free to agree or respectfully disagree.

Anyways that’s pretty much my whole ramble. Normally I tend to have some kind of conclusion to my posts. But since this was mostly just me giving a blunt rambling, I don’t have much of a conclusion to give. So that’s all folks. Let me know your thoughts on my thoughts if you’d like.

More Squiggles’ RWBY Content

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)            

[nullset2]

On Diversity in the Tech Industry

"Write every day", lest the thoughts consume you. When you write, you think. Even more: when you write, you're actually doing it to organize your mental cabinet, rather than for the benefit of other people (even though people will be reassured that they're on the right path once they find your footsteps on their journey). "Writing = thinking", my previous employer used to say all the time, which is a principle that I incredibly value even though there are a lot of other things about their culture that I don't appreciate.

Let me preface this by saying that the matter of diversity is an issue at large in the tech industry, and not something specific to any particular company or segment in it, and it's something that I think people are honestly, earnestly doing their best about, and there's a lot of people that I'm infinitely indebted to, powerful mentors in my way who have made me a better person. Even though sometimes the path to hell is paved with good intentions, I still abide by this paragraph. By and large, the industry is comprised of just good guys and gals and non-binary pals, you know what I mean?

However, we live in incredibly bizarre times, and sometimes it gets the best of me and that's why I want to jot these things down.

The prevalence of technology and the quasi-autistic state of alienation it fosters is leading to this state of being where the Other is eradicated and the Self is regarded as the All there is to be.

How does this fit with the tech industry? Well, the spiel paraded by the activists in the regard of Diversity claims that "races and profiles have been systematically excluded off of certain echelons of society" like the tech industry. Thus, there's a mechanic of oppresion moving the threads of society like its puppetmaster, there's a glaring generational debt which should be reparated back as soon and as efficiently as possible, and therefore, affirmative action should be taken to get those profiles back into the tech industry. Affirmative action is, basically, to take it easy on the, supposedly oppressed types (it already feels horribly demeaning to me to write this) and to provide them with positive affirmations and validations. Thus, quotas of intersectional profiles, based off of criteria like race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, et. al., should be rigurously applied to hiring, delegation, assignment of responsibilities and formation of teams.

(Another disclaimer before we go on: there's a kernel of truth in this. Imagine that you were designing a website for a Muslim locale, and, lacking knowledge of the sensitivities there, you decided to put a picture of a big, fat, beefy burger with strips of chunky, crispy bacon on it. Egad, pork meat is haram there, but you never knew. If you had a muslim colleague, however, that kind of stuff would had popped up earlier. It does help to have multiple life experiences and sensitivities in your team in ways more succint than we realize. I am convinced of this being true.)

Now, carrying on, the problem is that, on paper, of course it's true. Everybody knows it to be true. That which fits the collective-unconscious pre-conception of a techie is good, and that which doesn't is to be eradicated and this has a racial skew. Work, dating, neighborhoods, HOAs, relationships... everything in the modern world is subjected to one or many heavy biases. I'm writing this essay in English for goodness' sake. The die have already been thrown centuries ago. The hands have been dealt and we're sort of trying to pull forward as-is, awkwardly as it is. The tech industry is vastly, grossly majoritarily Caucasian and Asian (and by this I also mean Indian), and those profiles form a techno-elite caste that mostly exclusively hangs out and disseminates information among itself. This technoelite caste is fast-tracked into colleges where there's literally classes where they teach them the very same problems that they get in technical interviews, which they get to learn and rehearse at leisure, ergo fastracking them into the industry too.

Now, the naive explanation to this would be to assume that the reason why this happens is merely racial, which is what those types posit, but I actually think that's a lie. Every good lie is partially true though. To assume that it is only racial disregards the matter of competence.

"Affirmative Action" or "Positive Discrimination" as I've heard it called, is the proposed solution to this problem. "So, there is a very obvious skew in the population --thus, what we're going to do is that we're going to strongly encourage you to hire and integrate people into the industry who don't fit this standard.". It's weird because in a way it feels as if the answer to racism is more racism, but I see what they're going for --a fair shot across the board. But when that fair shot seems to be predicated on you being given a crutch because apparently you have a historical handicap because of who you are... well, you can probably infer how that feels.

Yes, my parents got fucked by the machine, I lost a lot of prospects in my earlier life, and I was sort of assumed to be a loser, my parents giving up any hope for me after I failed to breed around 18 years of age. They sort of... never actually understood what I was up to, and they left me to my devices to commune with the 2001 space oddysey monolith. Everyone else also did. My high school friends sort of thought that I was some weirdo loser that was damned to irrelevancy, and when I developed techincal skills and I managed to come up in the world, everyone did a 180 on me and went "holy shit", and either started asking me for money, or cut off contact out of the shame they felt that someone like me was doing like I was (to this day, this process of alienation from my original kin continues to happen btw).

And all of that is because, again, of all of these preconceptions and mechanisms in place --so the Diversity argument does hold up again. I am not saying that the Diversity spiel is wrong. But the problem is that, again, every good lie is partially true. To be prioritized as a profile feels as demeaning as to be actually discriminated against on the same basis (to me, at least. I guess a lot of people are happy in their stations as long as they have a weekly pizza and Netflix to amuse themselves to death, but I personally go insane if I cannot produce anything new). It discounts my competence, right? It's a catch-22. Fucked if I do or if I don't. If I take the step and try to play in the big leagues, people are going to take the piss because I don't talk in Californian Fry and use the same dogwhistles that the techies use among themselves, but if I don't, then I get to stay in a ghetto and make nothing of my life.

I argue, my friends, that whoever is most competent rises in the hierarchy. As corrupt and dirty the hierarchy can be sometimes, this principle is something that I know to be true, and It's been taught to me by the power of the black star, and I feel it in my very bones, in my very marrow. But the problem is, if you come from a fucked up world, how can you effectively develop competence if everyone around you is constantly assuming that you're a loser? It's just horrid. It takes a ridiculous, massive, insane amount of effort that most people are not willing to undertake. I know I suck. I am not really anything when compared to the most competent people in the industry (you know who you are: if you're reading this, I'm sorry that things didn't work out, but maybe in better circumstances we'll do alright).

I fumble my way through things. Yet, I still get things right sometimes.

On a personal level, also: what happens when you decide to go for it, then, and break away from the expectation of your caste and class? It isolates you. It alienates you. It takes you away from your hive, like a bee, and made to wander. When a bee is taken away from its hive (I've been thinking a lot about bee symbolism lately), it will try to find and join other hives, if it can find any before it dies. It is literally a matter of chemistry at that point: if the bee has a compatible chemical signature, it will be accepted and taken in; if not, it will be expunged by the female bees of the hive. The hivemind is a powerful force.

It's even worse when half of the populace out there thinks you're part of a ploy to change the demographic distribution in a negative way, and thus you must be eradicated as soon as possible, but I am not going to go there right now. I'm just going to mention that some neighbors were very happy when a tree fell on my home a bit over a year ago.

What to do at this point? My friends, the answer resides in the Jungian archetype of the Fool. Even though some people would argue that the appereance of the Fool is a sign of the erosion of our societal bonds, the Universe has a soft spot for fools. Sometimes you have to do the most stupid fucking bullshit you can think of. A man has to be a bit stupid sometimes. Be a troublemaker. Be shameless. Dare. Of course, don't be an asshole, but put energy into it. Step into the abyss even if you get fucked by it --because that's where the great things happen. These days, sometimes I do things that I'm not even aware of, which make other people mad. I'm literally oblivious to them. All of a sudden, people react to them and they hurt me, projecting their shadows.

A friend (the only senior Mexican engineer I ever found at my previous employer, who was in a team where I actually performed pretty well once I had the advantage of, egad, lo and behold!, an actual mentor, mind you) told me once "well, at some point you just got to steal it", and then he grabbed an implementation of something off of github, and that's when it hit me. This is the archetype of the fool at play.

Still disgruntled by the whole affirmative action thing and the idea that the best way to integrate me into the industry is to give me a kindergarten gold star and a Chipotle gift card (... though I sure could go for some fucking Chipotle right now because I'm very hungry) every time I post a PR, I also have to offer that the only way forward is through, and that through is going to hurt. At some point, it's all become a function of sacrifice. You literally are going to have to burn the midnight oil many, many, many, many years, and you're going to get fucked by alarms at some point, and you're going to have to work out like mad and you're going to walk around with sore muscles every day. You're going to have to see many people rolling their eyes at you. You're going to have to put up with being laughed at.

Again, it's the appereance of the archetype of the fool.

Parentheses: I've found that being in good physical shape and literal fucking muscle memory and rote memorization (kata-style repetition of phrases) is actually better for developing skills in tech than actually having a degree from some 30 grand a semester school, so it literally means that you need to lock yourself in a house in the forest for three years and attend to a boxing gym like mad if you want to break through the current insane state of things.

At some point, I realized that no matter how much fucking adderall I'd take or how much I did, or how many hours I put at Amazon, I'd still be getting laughed at and punked on and tortured at the end of the day, and my friends, that's when the archetype of the fool, chthonically, rose from the depths of my soul, and it made me turn into something else. I sort of realized that if what I did didn't truly matter and people were going to throw shit at me no matter what, then I was truly free to pursue what I wanted. It unleashed this roaring energy that powers everything I do now.

It renders you alone, too, but (not being melodramatic here) at some point you sort of Accept your loneliness (not making it about me here, but you do really sort of Accept it). There's a part of me that thinks that this whole fetishism of the rugged individualist life that we're currently undergoing is vicious, sick and depraved, but it does feel better than the contrary. It still makes me unhappy, but the mature kind of unhappy, you know? Like there's an inner angel that sees everything through the eyes of the Logos, of eternity, inside me, and he's in command.

I've been reading "The Labyrinth of Solitude" by Octavio Paz and it's fantastic how he gets it all down perfectly. The Mexican is de-facto schizoid, an in-between worlds, a pariah that has to stick together to survive, a race whose divine Mother has abandoned it. It's better to be alone than to be in the company of Jezebels and Nimrods anyway. And things do actually change at some point. Nothing ever stays the same, you know, and there's a lot of people who really do care about you and who are fun to be around out there for you (as trite and platitudical as this sounds).

In the meantime: keep doing stupid shit. You'll be amazed at the results one day. Things are not going to change at large. Just do the most with the hands you've been given.

[gibsongibson92-blog]

Your Manhattan Beach Movers Moving Company

Your Manhattan Beach Movers Moving Company

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[woman-loving]

Reception of Gender Diversity in Indonesia and Women’s Erotic Literature

Selections from "Between sastra wangi and perda sharia: debates over gendered citizenship in post-authoritarian Indonesia," Susanne Schröter, Review of Indonesian and Malaysian Affairs (RIMA), 48(1), 2014.

In Indonesia, we encounter a somewhat paradoxical situation where gender deviance is tolerated in many quarters while there is, at the same time, an increasingly repressive-patriarchal gender mainstream. This becomes particularly apparent in the issue of acceptance of queer lifestyles. After the end of the New Order period, the emerging liberalisation in the urban areas included that aspect as well. A group called Q-Munity has organised an annual queer film festival, the Q!Festival, in Jakarta since 2002 and activists join in public debates, trying to reduce prejudice and to put an end to discrimination. Within the women’s rights network, Kartini, a training manual was developed to strengthen the position of non-heteronormative life models (Bhaiya und Wieringa 2007), and Siti Musdah Mulia proclaimed in the newspaper Jakarta Globe of 23 September 2009 that lesbian desire was created by God just like its heterosexual counterpart and hence must be accepted as natural. Until today, her statement triggers controversial discussions within Indonesia and beyond.

As could be expected, this unusual awakening was criticised by Islamist hardliners as an adoption of Western decadence. Performance venues of the Q! Festival were repeatedly raided by ‘goon squads’ and in 2010 Surabaya became the site of an éclat that was even covered by the international media. It was sparked by plans of the Asian branch of the International Lesbian and Gay Association to hold an international conference in March of that year. There had been similar conventions before in Mumbai, Cebu and Chiang Mai. The organisers were eager to be as discrete as possible in order to avoid protests. There was to be no Gay Pride Parade, and the organisers planned to publish a press release only on the last day of the event. Due to an unlucky coincidence, however, the local media learned about the planned event in its run-up and there were quick reactions by Islamic organisations. Statements were issued by religious authorities, claiming that homosexuality is irreconcilable with both Indonesian culture and Islam. Such language immediately mobilised the Islamic Defenders Front (Front Pembela Islam) and the Indonesian fraction of Hizb-ut Tahrir[14] to take militant action against the organisers. As a result, the local authorities prohibited the conference and those participants who had already arrived were besieged at their hotels by the mob until they were brought to safety under police protection (Vacano 2010).

These incidents appear to be at odds with the supposedly tolerant attitude towards gender variances in Indonesia as described by anthropologists such as Boellstorff (2005), Peletz (2009), Davis (2010) and Blackwood (2010). These scholars base their claims on the existence of so-called third and fourth genders rooted in local social orders. An often-cited example of this are the Bugis of South Sulawesi who use five gender terms: besides women and men, there are calalai (masculine women), calabai (feminine men), and bissu (ritual experts and shamans who are ambiguous in terms of gender). The bissu have always particularly attracted the attention of anthropologists, who interpreted them as a culturally-accepted variant of non-binary gender. In the Bugis system of gender categories, they are classified as calabai, that is, individuals with a male body and a feminine or ambivalent habitus. They are viewed as embodying a pre-Islamic, double-gendered Supreme Being which is attributed the ability to mediate between humans and spirits; hence, they act as healers and shamans. There is some debate, however, among anthropologists about whether the existence of this phenomenon can actually be interpreted as an indicator of tolerance and liberalism. Birgit Röttger-Rössler, who has done fieldwork among the Bugis, is sceptical, and even objects to applying the term ‘third gender’. According to her, calabai are ‘institutionalised, socially-accepted variants or subcategories of the male gender’ (Röttger-Rössler 2009:287, translation mine). She adds that these types of transgenderism can by no means be interpreted as a negation of heteronormative gender concepts. The reverse is true: they reinforce the latter. As Röttger-Rössler sees it, the order legitimated by this exception is not only ‘defined clearly and rigidly’(Röttger-Rössler 2009:287–8), but also asymmetrical, putting  women at a disadvantage.

On top if this, the mere existence of a local ‘third gender’ does not allow the conclusion that local communities are generally characterised by a liberal attitude towards gender issues. This becomes particularly evident when modern phenomena of transgression, which are usually referred to as queer, meet local forms of deviance. The mobilisation of queer activists in Indonesia and the resulting Islamic counteroffensive is a well-documented example of this.

The same applies to shifts in local gender structures that were triggered by the general climate of open-mindedness after the end of the New Order. In the year when the conference in Surabaya was wrecked by conservative moral ideas, there was also a remarkable public debate on local Indonesian transgenders who are subsumed by the collective term of waria.[15] The debate was sparked by a ‘Miss Aceh Transsexual’ beauty pageant held in February 2010. Many people in Aceh have ambivalent and contradictory attitudes towards waria. On the one hand, they view the latter’s existence as a disgrace for the community; on the other hand, waria are tolerated half-heartedly, not least because men secretly relish their sexual services. Waria often use their beauty parlours and hairdressing salons as brothels and engage in prostitution in the semi-clandestine red light district of the capital Banda Aceh. It is obvious that neither Aceh society nor the police intend to actually eliminate this option for extramarital sex, which is punishable under current legislation. Representatives of the authorities, however, take advantage of the waria’s extralegal status and arbitrary arrests as well as rape in police custody are common. Everyday discrimination, humiliation, and assaults by the sharia police are rampant. In the wake of the devastating tsunami in 2004, which was interpreted by Islamic clerics as a warning to disobedient believers, waria were repeatedly expelled from their homes and businesses because their neighbours feared that their presence might evoke the wrath of God to descend upon them again.

In Indonesia, both the human rights and the Qur’an and Sunna are invoked in the discussion about whether or not the existence of waria is legitimate. In Aceh, more importance is attached to the religious narratives of justification, however, than to secular reasoning, because Islam is viewed as the measure of all things. In the end, phenomena that are incompatible with the commandments of Allah will not gain acceptance. The experts disagree, however, about what is compatible with Islam, particularly if waria make their appearance in modern contexts. The pageant mentioned above, where they performed in burlesque costumes, sparked a pan-Indonesian controversy which dominated the headlines of the local and national press for several days. Well-known politicians, activists, and Islamic clerics piped up to express their opinion. The majority of the religious contributions condemned waria as being immoral and sinners, while secular commentators came to their defence, referring to minority rights.

I had the opportunity to discuss that issue in March 2010 with students at the State Islamic University (Universitas Islam Negeri, UIN) in Yogyakarta and at the Gadjah Mada University (UGM) which is also located in Yogyakarta. The Islamic students, in particular, engaged in a lively debate about whether the Qur’an makes a clear statement about the matter and what the prophet Muhammad said about it. This was their sole criterion for tolerating or condemning waria. On the personal level, the subject did not trigger any emotions in them; it was a purely matter-of-fact discussion without any recourse to moral categories. My colleague Sahiron Syamsuddin, a respected Islamic scholar with whom I held the event, eventually made an important point. He said that three gender categories were already known in Muhammad’s time: men, women, and khunta--transgenders who resembled the waria. He went on to explain that the third gender had fallen into oblivion due to subsequent patriarchal developments. This was acceptable to the students. Sahiron’s reasoning is typical of so-called ‘progressive’ Muslims who attempt to substantiate liberal ideas with little-known data from the Islamic past or new interpretations of the Qur’an and Sunna.

As becomes apparent from the abovementioned examples, upon closer examination, the much-cited Indonesian open-mindedness with regard to gender variances turns out to be a restrictive straightjacket into which some phenomena can be fitted, while others cannot. Transgender individuals are tolerated and may even hold respected positions, provided that they stay within narrow, strictly-defined social confines or already-accepted cultural constructs. Above all, they are expected to be inconspicuous. As long as a beauty pageant is held in a village, whether or not the event is made into a scandal depends on the social relations between the individual actors. At the national level, it is not possible to rely on such local relations. Other narratives of justification then take effect, particularly narratives backed by Islam. It appears that only a minority of the Indonesian Muslims subscribe to progressive interpretations of the Qur’an and the Islamic traditions, and my colleague Syamsuddin would certainly have had a hard time if rhetorically-versed Islamists had participated in the discussion. According to a study conducted in 2013 by the Pew Research Center, 93 per cent of all Indonesians disapprove of homosexuality. Thus, in terms of tolerance, the country is behind Malaysia (86 per cent) and Pakistan (87 per cent) and at the same level as Palestine. As has been noted by Jamison Liang, homophobia is on the rise (Liang 2010). This development is due not only to the strength gained by a conservative, partly militant Islam, but also to the fact that by now there is a public debate on the issue of gender deviance.

----

The virulently liberal face of Indonesian culture, despite Islamist zealotry, is also represented by the genre of female erotic literature. Called sastra wangi (fragrant literature) it caused an international sensation.[12] Writers such as Djenar Maesa Ayu, Ayu Utami, Fira Basuki, Dewi Lestari, and Nova Riyanti Yusuf picked out incest, extramarital sex, and homosexuality as central themes. They were not afraid of giving drastic descriptions of sexuality and they played offensively with the breach of all social conventions (Hatley 1999; Listyowulan 2010). One of the most prominent examples is Ayu Utami’s book Saman, of which more than one hundred thousand copies were sold in Indonesia. The novel is about the sexual adventures of three young women from good families, about split identities and the transgression of patriarchal moral ideas. Shakuntala, one of the protagonists, deflowers herself with a spoon and feeds the hymen to a dog. Later, she enters into a lesbian relationship in which she takes the male-connoted part. These are the scandal-provoking parts of the novel. It also has, however, another, political dimension which centres on the priest Saman. During a conflict, he takes sides with oppressed rubber farmers who are struggling against dispossession. He is denounced as their leader, arrested and tortured.

[cw for discussion of incest, child sexuality/assault]

In Djenar Maesa Ayu’s Menjusuh Ayah (Suckled by the Father), a woman recounts the sexual childhood experiences she had with older men, including her father. She states that as a baby she was not fed her mother’s milk, but her father’s semen. When she confronts her father with that story, he accuses her of lying and hits her with his belt. She insists, however, on her version of the past. The first-person narrator tells the reader that her father eventually refused to feed her any longer. Hence, she turned to his friends as a child. ‘I liked the way they slowly pushed down my head and allowed me to suckle there for a long time’ (Ayu 2008:95). When one of her father’s friends penetrates her, she kills him: ‘I am a woman, but I am not weaker than a man’, she writes, ‘because I have not suckled on mother’s breast’ (Ayu 2008:97).

[end cw]

The new erotic women’s literature led to a controversial discussion in Indonesia. The term sastra wangi itself alludes to the public erotic self-staging of the women, which was eagerly picked up by the media. Many stories about the young writers opened with exact descriptions of their looks, mentioning the high heels, the strapless t-shirts, the long loose hair, or the fact that the audience smoked and consumed alcohol during the readings. Like the provocative titles and texts, the media stagings brought fast fame and high sales figures. On the other hand, the women were accused of using sex as a marketing strategy. Not surprisingly, criticism of the taboo breaches came from the religious side, while secular-urban intellectuals mostly appreciated the new literary awakening. Saman won several awards, including a writing contest of the Jakarta Art Institute in 1997 and an award of the Jakarta Art Council (Dewan Kesenian Jakarta) for best novel in 1998. In 2000, Ayu Utami won the Claus Award in the Netherlands. Nevertheless, there has been some reserve on the part of literary scholars. Katrin Bandel criticises the unquestioned male perspective of the sastra wangi (Bandel 2006:115), Arnez and Dewojati find fault with the virulent phallocentrism (Arnez and Dewojati 2010).[13] Positive appraisal, however, prevails in the overall judgment. According to Arnez and Dewojati, the issue of whether sastra wangi can be called emancipatory is still controversial, but nevertheless ‘it can be claimed that in modern Indonesian literature such an open discussion of sexuality and female desire has not taken place before, especially not in such an outspoken language’ (Arnez and Dewojati 2010:20).

[kivablog3]

NYC Pride March™ 2018, brought to you by…

I wrote this up while watching the Pride March on TV, mainly because just the idea of watching it on TV was so weird. Part 1 of 2.— 

The March is on now, but it’s not informal like the hallowe’e’n parade, meaning not in an informal, NY1, someone-with-a-camera wandering-around kind of way. More a sort of, “Welcome to ABC7’s coverage of the NYC Pride March! Here’s an establishing shot of Lower Manhattan from NewsChopper 7!” way. In what I have decided to call a thanksgiving-gays-parade kind of way. There’s a pair of apparently-str8 parade anchors or whatever you call them, a white cis man and white cis woman with a black drag queen anchor providing expert queer commentary. She had dangerous hair and I forget her name, which proves I was the only person watching who didn’t know who she was. I’m not only out of the loop, I can’t even see the loop from here. Sometimes even the existence of the loop seems speculative.

There’s a bunch of students from (I think) the High School for the Performing Arts to start the show, dancing and singing a song I’m not familiar with (see loop, out of, supra). Now there’s another kid singing the national anthem. I swear. This ain’t no football game, y’all. Did everyone get a chance to take a knee? I would have been deeply annoyed if I’d been there. “From its dimly-recalled semilegendary origins as a sort of protest rally, today the NYC Pride March….” I made up that quote, but not by much.

The kid who led the singers from Performing Arts is being interviewed now, and this is different, people like them getting to speak to the cameras. Voices like this get lost in the noise. That’s new. It’s also…interesting seeing who bought commercial time on this. Nissan, TD Bank, I forget the first one. T-Mobile.

So, here we go for real. Shot from above of the Dykes on Bikes, they take off…and Channel 7 chooses this moment to try to explain as well as describe the new route. Justify the new route, tbph, since last year the traditional longform march took nine hours, apparently. 

Now they’re explaining who lesbians are, or were fifty years ago, something like that. Here comes the Dykes on Bikes for real, they’re honking and waving. But the announcers are awkwardly discussing transgender murder rates at the moment, and trying to talk about tolerance, and history, but all in a sort of gee-whiz way, giving us, “Lesbians used to go to the bar too, some of them, and a lesbian actually overturned a police car! which helped start things off at the riot, and….” “That’s right, Brian, and here’s one of the Grand Marshals of this year’s march, Billie Jean King.” Aaand here’s a touching, pre-produced segment, talking with Billie Jean. Sort of like on the Olympics when they talk to athletes. It’s nice, but several of these after a couple of hours will feel like interruptions.

I think we should build a monument, a statue of the Nameless Lesbian Who Flipped a Cop Car at the Stonewall Riots by Herself; I’ve heard this story before. But it’s all delivered in this weird parade-announcer dialect, like, “How many balloons are there in those arches?” “Well, there are 2000 balloons in each arch, and as you know, the rainbow has been the symbol….” I may have to turn off the sound. Because, okay, it’s nice getting to see the Grand Marshals and the Dykes on Bikes and the balloons, even. It’s just so commercialized now, it makes even real stuff, like help and counseling and history, sound cheesy and artificial. 

It seems like it’s in large part designed to explain queer stuff to str8  people, and to maybe-not-str8 people who are questioning, all of which is commendable, in theory, but in the execution it’s a little wobbly-looking. Well-intentioned encomiums to equality and descriptions of social services are interspersed with, Oh, look, another float…and now that it’s been established that heterosexual audiences will watch television shows about drag queens, Channel 7 will put as many onscreen as possible. That’s certainly different.

There are some brief politician interviews, and now they have Rachel Tiven in the booth. She’s head of Lambda Legal, “The People Who Sue.” I hadn’t heard that line before, but it’s catchy. If I’m going to try to use my legal language skills somewhere, and I’ve tried some other places that just aren’t responsive, then maybe I should try Lambda. They get involved in high-impact cases that have, I gather, the potential for change beyond simple redress for the litigants. That’s somewhere I could be useful in serious litigation, help make change happen. I’m glad she got interviewed. It’s sort of as if for today we’re all just another part of the larger community. It’s kind of amazing, even bizarre, that we have corporate sponsors and live coverage. And I’m not used to seeing this many queers on the air for this long without a lesbian fictional character dying.

Some of the marchers from Lambda have this Cindy Sherman-style design on their tees: “Read My Briefs!” For legal humor that’s not bad; the bar is set low. That’s a pun. Sorry.

To be continued…

[ericvick]

Vaccine dose amount on rise as the town slowly and gradually reopens

Boston moved into a new stage of eased-up pandemic limits on Monday as small children from pre-K to Grade 3 returned to classrooms for the initial time in a just about a year and places to eat and other indoor corporations confronted renewed exercise with capacity allowances ramped up to 50 per cent.

Still, Mayor Walsh stated on Monday, less stringent statewide principles governing are living entertainment indoors would not be allowed within the metropolis right up until later on in the thirty day period.

Meanwhile, initiatives to defend the city’s citizens from the lethal virus have built continual development. As of Feb. 23, much more than 96,000 Bostonians – some 15 per cent of them more than age 16 – experienced gained at least their to start with dose of vaccine safety towards Covid-19. The figures have no question risen because that date.

“Of those people folks, about 42 per cent went to men and women of shade,” mentioned Wellbeing and Human Expert services main Marty Martinez, who joined Walsh in a Monday push convention to present updates on the city’s pandemic reaction.

Across the state, a quantity equivalent to the population of Methuen — around 51,000 people — got their second vaccination doses between past Friday’s report from the Division of General public Overall health and Sunday’s update. There are now 550,000 men and women entirely vaccinated towards the coronavirus, Gov. Baker reported Monday morning, in comparison to 550,302 complete verified bacterial infections given that the start off of the pandemic.

Also on Monday, Baker reported about 68 percent of state citizens 75 and older experienced been vaccinated. In the long-expression care sector, 90 per cent of inhabitants and about 70 per cent of team experienced obtained vaccines, he famous.

As to renewed industrial action in Boston, specific organizations will not nonetheless be in a position to both reopen or maximize ability boundaries, which includes indoor live performance venues, large-get in touch with indoor recreation like roller skating or laser tag, and stay audio in dining places.

Walsh reported that the town will continue to align with the state’s phased-in reopening established for March 22, relocating into section 4 action 1 – “if our cases and community well being details help that.”

He included: “I want to be clear: We are relocating ahead listed here in the metropolis of Boston together with the state, but we have some crucial exceptions that are heading into impact. We’re getting an solution that matches our unique features as a substantial, primarily dense, town.

“We have not elevated the 6-human being highest at tables and I know eating places want that, but just be affected individual. We will get there, but we are earning confident the general public wellness figures are risk-free right before we do this.”

Improved outside eating in Boston will resume on April 1 and further particulars on restricted parking and street closures will be built offered in the coming weeks. So considerably, the town has gained 370 programs for outdoor dining licenses and accredited extra than 150.

Walsh also urged Bostonians to continue on to get examined for the virus as the state-led hard work to distribute vaccine pictures starts to penetrate further into the city’s toughest-strike neighborhoods.

There are now 17 vaccination web pages in the metropolis, including 7 local community health centers, 8 pharmacies, and 2 mass vaccination internet sites, together with the Reggie Lewis Centre and Fenway Park.

50 percent the appointments at the Reggie Lewis Middle have been reserved as precedence reserving for citizens of “Roxbury and bordering communities”– which includes Dorchester.

“We are proud of the equitable access we have been able to provide to metropolis of Boston inhabitants, specifically at the Reggie Lewis Middle,” stated Walsh. “Moving ahead, we’re heading to keep on to keep 50 percent of the vaccine slots qualified for people today of shade, doing the job by way of neighborhood wellbeing centers and metropolis businesses.”

So much, far more than 4,000 people have been vaccinated at the Lewis Middle because it opened on Feb. 1, in accordance to Martinez. He stated 45 % of these have been persons of colour and 55 p.c Boston inhabitants, with Roxbury as the most represented of the city’s neighborhoods.

Condition officers have contracted with CIC Well being, which operates the mass vaccination courses at Fenway Park and Gillette Stadium, to grow the Reggie Lewis procedure. The agency mentioned it will have the capability to administer 800 Pfizer pictures for each working day from the Reggie Lewis Center with plans to “ramp up to 2,500 every day appointments within just about a month.”

When requested if the city may possibly use outside and drive-through vaccination internet sites as the weather begins go warm up, Martinez replied: “That’s definitely a part of it. We’re not pretty there temperature-wise the place we’d want to create outside areas but it is surely a section of the larger piece.

“What we want to be capable to do around vaccinations,” he stated, “is to not only have these fastened locations— pharmacies, local community overall health centers, and our mass vaccination web sites – but also destinations in which we can deliver the vaccine.”

With regard to instruction, the BPS’s invitation to pre-K to Quality 3 pupils for in-individual mastering meant that yet another 7,900 pupils in all could return to lecture rooms, introducing up to a overall of 15,000 college students who have been invited to return to city educational facilities since the starting of November.

“We’ll carry on to deliver college students again into our universities safely and securely as lengthy as the public well being facts guidance it,” said Walsh, including that Covid-19 pool screening will be available to all college students whose people consent.

For each the timeline that BPS released in January, all pupils in grades 4 by means of 8 will be qualified for in-individual understanding on March 15 and all remaining students will be suitable on March 29.

Walsh also took see of the forthcoming St. Patrick’s Day holiday break. He warned Bostonians about social distancing, reminding every person that the parade in South Boston has been cancelled all over again this calendar year and that private gatherings stay limited to 10 individuals indoors and 25 outdoors.

“There ought to be no huge gatherings of any type for St. Patrick’s Day,” he explained. “We are so near to a complete line below what we really don’t need to have now is a action backwards. Events like St. Patrick’s Working day grow to be super-spreader activities and carry us into a scenario exactly where we’re shutting every thing down all over again.”

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'Outlander' Season 6: Everything We Know

We’re looking down the barrel of the longest Droughtlander yet, but the beloved cast and crew of Outlander are intent on keeping us apprised of the latest from set (and, er, Zoom) in the meantime.

Below, everything we know about season 6 of the hit Starz series—from the latest from set to what to expect for Claire (Caitriona Balfe), Jamie (Sam Heughan), Brianna (Sophie Skelton), and Roger (Richard Rankin) when the show returns.

Season 6 will largely pull from Diana Gabaldon’s A Breath of Snow and Ashes.

Though season 5 depicted several plot points from book six in the Outlander series, including the death of Stephen Bonnet and a brutal attack on Claire, most of the content of the new season will still come from that installment, A Breath of Snow and Ashes, which tracks the Frasers through the years just preceding the Revolutionary War.

Here’s how publisher Penguin Random House describes it:

The year is 1772, and on the eve of the American Revolution, the long fuse of rebellion has already been lit. Men lie dead in the streets of Boston, and in the backwoods of North Carolina, isolated cabins burn in the forest. With chaos brewing, the governor calls upon Jamie Fraser to unite the backcountry and safeguard the colony for King and Crown. But from his wife Jamie knows that three years hence the shot heard round the world will be fired, and the result will be independence—with those loyal to the King either dead or in exile. And there is also the matter of a tiny clipping from The Wilmington Gazette, dated 1776, which reports Jamie’s death, along with his kin. For once, he hopes, his time-traveling family may be wrong about the future.

Executive producer Maril Davis expanded on this in an August 2020 PaleyFest interview, per Parade:

The original Outlander is my favorite, but A Breath of Snow and Ashes is my second favorite… There is so much for everyone in it. Jamie and Claire, their love deepens; Roger and Brianna, they have their own journey, and something fun and new happens with them. Caitlin O’Ryan, who plays Lizzie, has a great story, and she is such a phenomenal actress. There are just so many exciting things.

Gabaldon has published eight books in the Outlander series so far, with a ninth, Go Tell the Bees That I Am Gone, “close” to finished.

Season 6 is now filming.

On Tuesday, February 9, 2021, Starz announced that season 6 of Outlander is currently in production in Scotland. Executive producer Matthew B. Roberts told ELLE.com that “keeping everybody safe is paramount” while shooting in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic: “We had to figure out how to make sure we tested everybody a million times before they walked onto set and keep that bubble as safe as possible.”

Here’s how the network describes the new season:

The sixth season of Outlander sees a continuation of Claire and Jamie’s fight to protect those they love, as they navigate the trials and tribulations of life in colonial America. Establishing a home in the New World is by no means an easy task, particularly in the wild backcountry of North Carolina—and perhaps most significantly—during a period of dramatic political upheaval. The Frasers strive to maintain peace and flourish within a society which—as Claire knows all too well—is unwittingly marching towards Revolution. Against this backdrop, which heralds the birth of the new American nation, Claire and Jamie have built a home together at Fraser’s Ridge. They must now defend this home—established on land granted to them by the Crown—not only from external forces, but also from the increasing strife and conflict in the community within their care. For the Frasers and their immediate family, “home” is more than simply a site in which they live, it is the place where they are laying the foundations for the rest of their lives. If Season 4 asked “What is home?” and Season 5 asked, “What are you willing to do to protect your home?” then Season 6 explores what happens when there is disharmony and division among the inhabitants of the home you’ve created: when you become an outsider, or an ‘outlander,’ so to speak, marginalized and rejected in your own home.

There are 12 episodes in the new season.

Just like season 5.

Filming on season 6 was postponed due to the coronavirus.

On May 3, 2020, Heughan tweeted that season 6 was supposed to start filming that week.

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But pre-production was underway in late 2020, and the cast shared a holiday treat on December 25: a behind-the-scenes look at the show’s costume department, where pre-production work is taking place. Balfe, Heughan, Skelton, and Rankin all make appearances in the three-minute clip and drop hints about the season along the way. “We’re very excited to bring the show to you as soon as possible,” Balfe says.

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“We have to dress a lot of people, because there are many, many more settlers coming to Fraser’s Ridge,” Heughan notes. He also teases a new conflict with Tom Christie, “one of Jamie’s ancient foes” from his Ardsmuir Prison days. “There’s a bit of a power play,” he says.

As for Bree, Skelton says, “We’re gonna see a lot more this season of the modern Brianna…her inventor cap will be on.”

And Balfe contributes an ominous hint: “Things are coming to the Ridge that will even challenge Claire Fraser’s medical knowledge.”

A Breath of Snow and Ashes

Yes, a war is coming.

That’s one thing we can count on. The Revolutionary Way is on the horizon, and the Frasers will, of course, get swept up in the action.

“I think we’ve always done really [well] with the action sequences,” Heughan told ELLE.com of shooting battle sequences back in May 2020. “Certainly I think it’s one of my stronger points in the show. It’s nice when we get a bit of everything.”

Jamie and Claire’s relationship will undergo a “revolution” of its own.

Roberts teases big changes for the Frasers in the new season: “I think what’s going on in the world at the time, 1775, is really similar to what’s going on with Jamie and Claire,” he tole ELLE.com. “There’s going to be a revolution with them as well, and I think that’s what’s going on throughout the season: You have a foundation and when that foundation is shaken and there is a revolution, you have to deal with it. That’s kind of the theme of the season.”

Season 6 will address Claire’s recovery from the traumatic events of the season 5 finale.

The season 5 finale, titled “Never My Love, saw Claire kidnapped and raped by a group of men furious that she inspired their wives to demand agency. “For Claire, this is going to be an ongoing journey of recovery,” Balfe told ELLE.com after the finale aired. “She will probably try to plow on and get back to normality, but I don’t think she’s fully aware of just how difficult, subconsciously and psychologically, that’s going to be for her.”

In the Outlander End of Summer series that aired last September, Heughan expanded where we find the Frasers at the end of the finale: “When we left Season 5, the whole family is fractured,” he said. “They are together but Claire still has some healing to do.”

Read ‘Outlander’

Book 2: Dragonfly in Amber

Readerlink bookshop.org

$9.19

Book 4: Drums of Autumn

Target.com Use Only bookshop.org

$9.19

Book 6: A Breath of Snow and Ashes

Book 7: An Echo in the Bone

Book 8: Written in My Own Heart’s Blood

Seven Stones to Stand or Fall: A Collection of Outlander Fiction

The Outlandish Companion

Diana Gabaldon bookshop.org

$36.80

The Outlandish Companion Volume Two

Diana Gabaldon bookshop.org

$36.80

Julie Kosin Senior Culture Editor Julie Kosin is the senior culture editor of ELLE.com, where she oversees all things movies, TV, books, music, and art, from trawling Netflix for a worthy binge to endorsing your next book club pick.

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'Outlander' Season 6: Everything We Know