#but like… the idea of Vox accepting the blame in this situation

[voxiiferous]

Yeah I'll take all the blame The front page and the fame But you'll all know my name

River Below - Billy Talent | apparently now the inspiration for an AU in which Vox and Alastor’s falling out is staged.

"I’m thinking of getting a new head,” Vox says, straightening his bow tie. The broadcast starts soon enough, but the habit of talking to Alastor before had become part of it. Gradually, Vox's employees had stopped panicking every time they saw him.

“Hideous choice,” Alastor scoffs, and Vox finds his partner’s eyes in the mirror. “I don't see what's wrong with your current one,"

"The decaying cathodes might play a role in it," he answers. One could only knock things loose a few times before the damage stuck, and it’s typically considered poor form to give your employees low level radiation poisoning form your presence. There was also the fact it has a nasty habit of switching, unceremoniously, to black and white-- or, god forbid, the times his entire display just descended into static.

Alastor waves a hand dismissively. "Sign of a flawed medium," Which would be more insulting if they hadn't had this debate for years already.

Vox doesn’t turn to look at Alastor, keeping him in view of the vanity mirror. “I think it could be useful. Something new,"

Alastor twirls his staff, coming to lean against Vox's chair. "Yes, about that,"

Vox pauses where he's adjusting his collar over the bow tie. "The rumours?" He questions. The rumours had, of course, followed them from the start. Accusations, fears, from those who would never amount to anything, and those discontent nothings that littered Pentagram City. But they had become more notable recently, and some of the more... important people had started looking more carefully at their monopoly. "They've never bothered you before,"

Alastor spins his staff again, looking at it, with a faux casualty. "Things can change,"

Vox laughs, and leans against the opposite arm of the chair. "You, darling? You're categorically adverse to it," it’s the source of half their disagreements. He’s half expecting a camera to burst into the room like some unexpected joke.

"Still, I think it's high time we cut this... ménage à deux short," Alastor says, and Vox’s amusement sobers.

He turns to look at his partner, directly this time, rather than through the mirror. It’s a sort of incredulity that needs direction, rather than diffuse through the reflection. "You want us to pretend to have a falling out?"

"You said it, not me," Alastor says, resting his arms on top of the staff. "Play up the existing differences, and no one looks twice,"

“No one thinks you’re going soft, or that I’m reliant,” which he’s not. Their friendship hadn’t even begun until Vox had already started making a name for himself. But Hell’s memory is a strange thing, simultaneously too short, and eternal.

“You want me to play the cad,”

“You’re so good at it.” It’s a role he’s used to certainly, even if for different reasons. The more things change…

“There will be doubt,”

Alastor waves his hand again. “You’ll hardly need to search for someone to act as an unwilling collaborator.” Alastor says, with a pointed look at the letter Vox had forgotten on the desk. It’s got the faintest whiff of perfume on it. He’s there justification, the explanation. The thing that makes Hell stop looking at them with narrowed eyes.

“And you’re certain it should be me? That they’ll believe it?”

Alastor smiles, fixing Vox’s forgotten collar. “Indubitably. You’re a talented performer. No one else could pull such a farce off,” He taps his microphone against Vox’s cheek, almost like a kiss. “You have a show, insufferable picture box,

Vox pauses, a slight moment that would have been a dry swallow if he still had a mouth. “I do,” he says. “I trust I’ll have one less viewer than usual?”

“Indeed,” Alastor says, and he’s turning, the shadows swirling to carry him away.

Vox takes a deep breath, the scripted narrative already coming together. He takes one last look in the mirror, and then heads to the stage.

[alice-after-dark]

Vox as an Abuse Victim

So here is that massive Vox post I promised, a day late for...reasons. I swear I have been working on this post for days, even before that StaticMoth discourse influx in my inbox.

After making my post about Vox and Angel and reading @deeply-unserious-fellow's post about a similar topic, I thought it might be finally time to make this post. Most people who have seen my content know how I typically portray StaticMoth. I have mixed feelings about Valentino at the best of times and outright dislike him at the worst. But frankly this post isn't actually about him (well, mostly). It's about Vox and why I am really hoping that Viv keeps the angle of Vox being an abuse victim.

TW for domestic abuse, physical violence, implied sexual abuse, abusive relationships, gaslighting/victim-blaming, and other canon-typical triggers. Contain abusive StaticMoth.

Honestly? The primary reason I hope she keeps it is because it would make him an even more complex character and bring attention to a criminally underrepresented group: abuse victims who are also bad people.

As pointed out in the post I tagged above, the world has become obsessed with this idea of a "palatable" victim, the poor suffering cinnamon roll. An abuse victim is expected to look like a victim. You're supposed to instantly feel sorry for them and want to protect them...but that's not so easy when the victim is someone who also hurts people, is it? It's not so easy to pretend they didn't do bad things too...but they are still a victim. That does not change just because they are a bad person. And thus it becomes complicated and interesting. Because it's not so easy to root for the victim when they're also victimizing others, especially when those others are people we care about...like Angel Dust. At the bare minimum, Vox is doing nothing to stop Valentino from abusing Angel or any of his other employees. Having Vox be a victim of the same abuse that Angel Dust suffers (at the hands of the same abuser no less) and yet also being someone who enables Angel's abuse creates a very complicated situation.

In a most media, the discovery of a mean/bad person being abused is frequently portrayed in a "well, they were abused so you can't be mad at them anymore" kind of light. Like "see? They're just an asshole because they were being abused! Now that we know, they're suddenly a good person!" Except that's not how it works. Someone can be a bad person and also be a victim. And even if them being an asshole was the result of their abuse, those behaviors and the consequences of those behaviors don't just vanish. They still hurt people and frankly I would riot if it came out that Vox was being abused by Valentino and then everyone in the show just up and forgave him for being an asshole. Like...no? He would still need to make up for his own shit and actually work towards being a better person. I like this character because he's an unapologetic asshole. If making him a victim takes that away, then that would be such a missed opportunity.

In fact, one thing I find interesting is that I definitely believe that Vox would have no problem admitting to being a bad person, but would rather fight an exorcist alone than admit to being a victim. His ego won't allow for it. He would probably laugh in your face and call you delusional while literally having a broken screen. Because he can't admit it, even to himself. He would see it as a sign of weakness and that's not acceptable to him (side note that being a victim does not make you weak, that's just what Vox's toxic mindset tells him). While I am fairly certain that he would have moved on from most 1950s mindsets since he is all about the future and progress and moving forward, toxic masculinity is still very much a thing today and I can definitely see him embodying it in some aspects, like needing to appear strong and in control at all times (and Hell's power hierarchy definitely encourages this mindset, so...). Fuck, even now in fucking 2024, men still have a hard time being taken seriously as the victims of abuse. Unless of course you fit a certain mold.

Angel Dust is the perfect example of this. He is a palatable male victim. He's effeminate, he's funny, he's friendly, he's caring, and we actively see him miserable in his suffering. Despite being in Hell just like the rest of them and having been a former mafia member and clearly able to stand on his own two feet it combat, his victimhood is constantly on display and the audience wants to protect and save him. On the opposite end, Vox is shown in a position of power that is constantly reinforced. He's an Overlord, he's manipulative, he's cruel, he's greedy, and he enables abusive behavior from others. He is not a palatable victim, which is why it's perfect.

Now let's get into what I believe is the actual evidence that this dynamic could still be present.

Something I see people commonly say is that Vox being abused by Valentino doesn't make sense because why wouldn't Vox just fight back? He could just shock Valentino into next Tuesday? And to these people I kindly say fuck you. Because while physical strength can be a factor in abuse, it is very rarely the thing that keeps the victim from leaving. Abuse, even when physical, is heavily psychological. It's like telling a victim "well, why didn't you just leave?" It's not that easy. Abusers tend to target those with low self-esteem and it's made pretty clear that Vox is a very insecure person (I feel the need to point out that having an ego and having high self-esteem are not the same thing, in fact having a big ego is typically a side effect of very low self-esteem). It's entirely possible that Vox makes the conscious decision not to fight back because he's afraid of what will happen if he does. He's afraid Valentino will leave. We know Valentino is just as mentally and emotionally abusive to those around him as he is physically abusive and we have actively witnessed him playing into Vox's insecurities and mentally messing with him (specifically in the events leading up to "Stayed Gone").

So let's talk about the scene leading up to "Stayed Gone," because I also see Vox's behavior towards Valentino here used as justification for why it's not possible for Valentino to be abusing Vox. Full disclosure, I myself in the past have even thought that it demonstrated them being mutually abusive towards each other, but have since changed my opinion after reading more takes and doing further analysis. Having rewatched this scene many times now, I have some observations.

There's a small moment that always caught my attention when I watched this scene because I wasn't sure what it meant, but looking at it in the context of this post, I think I can see a possibility. When Vox goes to see Valentino, he approaches the doors and they are opened for him by Valentino's servants. Vox pauses in the doorway, glances at them, then continues on inside.

What was the point of this moment? It seems out of place. Surely Vox has gone to Valentino's room before? Surely this door opening thing isn't new? And looking at Vox's face here, he looks...concerned? Like...they might hear what goes on inside? And he maintains that expression even as he enters the room, like he doesn't like that those two are out there and might hear them.

It also makes the entire situation feel so routine. Like Valentino is upset and these girls just expect Vox to show up and take care of it. And the scenes prior to this also sets it up as a normal occurrence. Vox rearranges his entire schedule to deal with Valentino, like he absolutely expects this situation could take up the rest of his day. And Valentino clearly doesn't listen to Velvette in this regard as she had to call Vox to come deal with Valentino despite him wrecking her department. Her comment even further establishes this as normal when she tells Vox that Valentino is "up in his tower, waiting for a flat-faced prince to calm him down." And when Vox arrives? "FUCKING FINALLY!" All of this sets up a standard situation: when Valentino is upset, it is Vox's job to calm him down and make him feel better. Valentino is a full grown adult and yet he has made it someone else's problem to manage his emotions.

Then of course we have the classic moment of Valentino literally throwing his glass at Vox only seconds after Vox has arrived. And this has to have been a conscious decision, because right before that, he throws his first glass on the ground before demanding another. So if he wanted to just break something, he didn't need to throw it at Vox, but he did. And I definitely don't think he cared if Vox got out of the way or not. But how easily Vox moves aside tells us that he fully expected to have things thrown at him and was ready for it. Now, I do believe that Valentino would throw shit at literally anyone when he is mad, but the key here is that Vox, his supposed friend, on-and-off lover, and business partner, is not exempt from this behavior. He even breaks Vox's phone when he realizes Vox is not paying attention to him. He has no qualms breaking Vox's property just to soothe his rage (I would also like to point out that he fucking obliterated that thing; just how hard did he fucking throw it?!).

Something in this scene that did initially throw me as I was writing this is that Vox doesn't seem particularly afraid of Valentino. Not the way we see Angel is when Valentino gets angry. We also see him actively get angry with Valentino, get in his face, and manipulate him. In the past, I believed this behavior from Vox to have established their relationship as mutually abusive. However, after reading yet another post from @deeply-unserious-fellow, I realized that everything Vox does here is only in direct response to Valentino's tantrum.

So let's go through some things here. When Vox initially tries to tell Valentino he can't go to the hotel, Valentino straight up ignores him. Does not respond to Vox's words, completely carries on like he didn't even speak. From this point on, Vox takes an entirely different approach to the situation. He manipulates Valentino into thinking that not shooting up the hotel is his idea and even offers further appeasement in the form of shooting his own employees as a method to satisfy Valentino's temper. I admit to initially viewing this as Vox being abusive, but frankly, when your options are being manipulative or letting your business partner go shoot up a hotel that houses the literal Princess of Hell, yeah, I'd take the manipulation route. Because, as I pointed out above, Vox cannot actually control Valentino. He tries to give him an order and is completely ignored. And even when he does successfully manipulate him, he still has to appease him in some capacity.

Now, there's also something here that is often played for shits and giggles, but I'm taking it 100% seriously right now. Many people point out that Vox's screen gets brighter when he gets in Valentino's face. Valentino is a moth demon and after Vox does this, he seems to be dazed for a moment, enough for Vox to rapidly switch back into manipulator mode and does his thing. It seems to have snapped Valentino out of his rage and I literally can't help but think that Vox has learned this as a defense mechanism. Valentino can't see very well, so it's very likely Vox's hypnotism doesn't work on him, so Vox had to find other ways of manipulating him and calming him down when he's in one of his rages.

Something I also want to point out is that it is made very clear through a single solitary moment that Valentino is in no way afraid of Vox. When he tells Vox about Alastor, Vox screams in his face, manhandles him, and Valentino just...pushes him off and saunters away, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. He doesn't even look upset or concerned when Vox grabs him. He just...laughs it off...like he knows Vox won't actually hurt him. Because I genuinely think Vox won't. Later in the episode, we hear Valentino's voicemails to Angel Dust and how he's emotionally manipulating him, telling him he can't really get better. I wouldn't be surprised to find that he's given Vox a similar treatment, especially considering that it's obvious Valentino knew what kind of reaction he would get out of Vox by bringing up Alastor. And sure, he brushes it off with a kink joke, but in all seriousness, why did Valentino keep Alastor's return from Vox? We know Angel has been at the hotel for a little while and Alastor has been involved with it as of a week prior to the beginning of season 1, so why suddenly bring it up? It's almost like he was specifically holding onto this information, waiting for the perfect time to use it that would be the most beneficial to him.

There's also another little scene that always caught my attention. It's when Valentino is getting pissed about the shadow construct that Angel Dust is flirting with.

Valentino starts getting pissy again, demands Vox's attention, gets annoyed when he doesn't get it, then immediately switches to mocking and confident when Vox starts bitching about Alastor. Like...he's so fucking proud of himself for getting Vox all worked up over Alastor. Like it's some kind of game for him. Riling Vox up and messing with his emotions is fun for Valentino. Alastor dredges up some real shit for Vox and Valentino exploits it. And from here on, he just keeps egging him on. Now, I'm pretty sure "Stayed Gone" would have happened with or without Valentino, but the point here is that he is definitely playing with Vox's emotions here.

As for the not being afraid aspect, again, Valentino hasn't actually threatened him with something that truly scares him. I don't think he's afraid of what Valentino could physically do to him. It's more likely to make him mad than anything else, even if he doesn't fight back (he'll probably go take out his anger on someone else). The thing about Vox is that we see that he does not like to appear weak in any capacity and I think this extends well into his own psyche. If he admits, even to himself, that he's a victim...to him, that's admitting weakness and he just can't do that. So Valentino's not abusing him, they just had a fight. He didn't hit back because he's in control of himself and he knows he could totally toast Valentino. It's Vox's own fault for pushing his buttons when he knew Valentino was mad. It wasn't rape cause he never said "no".

TLDR: Vox can be both an asshole and an abuse victim and it would be a really interesting aspect to his character as long as the show does it right and doesn't scrap his assholeness to make him a more palatable victim. Show him being a victim and also victimizing others. Show him not wanting to accept that he has been abused. LET PEOPLE BE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH FEELING SORRY FOR HIM.

(that's all for now, I have literally been working on this post for days and I'm exhausted)

[saphirered]

Hello!

So here’s my idea, wizard reader is having an in-depth conversation with Gilmore about magic while the rest of Vox Machina are getting drinks at the bar. Reader looks over and sees a bar fight starting and goes “lol what a bunch of idiots” she looks closer and is “wait! Those are my idiots!” And she goes to help in the fight.

Mostly platonic shenanigans and maybe a dash of hinted romance if you feel like it. Have a good weekend!

Vox Machina, just returned from yet another adventure, high on adrenaline and willing (perhaps except for Vex) to spend the coin they made to celebrate their win.

“Come on! Join us!” Grog slaps a hand on your shoulder perhaps a bit too hard making you stumble. Keyleth comes up to your side throwing an arm over your shoulder as she fiddles with something in her other hand.

“Yeah! It will be fun!” Keyleth exclaims. You notice the thing she’s messing with and take it from her immediately wrapping it in a piece of cloth safely storing it.

“I’d love to but you lot are entirely to blame for not letting me identify these magical items we found. They might be dangerous. What if they’re cursed? What if one eats through the bag of holding causing a rift and sending you all to a floating demise in the Astral Sea, huh?”

“We could just sell them off? More coin to buy ale!” Grog beams swinging the new sword he found dread and anxiety filling your mind at the memory of Craven Edge.

“Just help me get this stuff to Gilmore and hope he’ll be willing to help.” You grumble adjusting the shield Pike found on your back. You swear, one day they’re gonna end up cursed if they don’t listen to you.

You were already hesitant when they wanted to raid the evil mage’s collection. After a multitude of traps being set off it didn’t exactly alleviate your worries and with the mage’s reputation, neither does carrying these items.

“Leave her alone, guys. Let the magic folks do magic stuff.” You’re about to thank Vax but of course he has to go ruin it when he addresses you directly.

“If you wanted to go see Gilmore so badly you could just have said so.” Vax grins with a wink.

“Oh, Vax, I would say you’re welcome to join but I think with your shameless flirting neither of us will get any work done by the end of the day. Would we even make it to the tavern come daybreak?” You wink back at the rogue at loss for words as Vex wipes away some tears of laughter seeing her brother’s expression, Scanlan slow claps with a nod of approval and even Percy tries his best to hold back a laugh covering it with a cough earning a glare from Vax.

You make it to Gilmore’s who’s more than happy to help you identify the magical items you’ve brought along cutting down work time by a lot. The rest of Vox Machina left to find a suitable tavern and would meet you later once you finished up.

Gilmore and you go through the stash of magical items quickly, as quick as you can of course which still takes the both of you the better part of an hour. And yes, some of the items you found are cursed and you couldn’t be more relieved they did not stay in the possession of your fellow party members long enough for some terrible effects to kick in.

Gilmore took those off your hands to dispel or lock away safely and the two of you would simply tell the others they disappeared, got destroyed in the process of identifying or weren’t worth anything and therefor not worth keeping around.

Successfully preventing what could quite possibly be yet another disaster you invited Gilmore along to grab a drink after a long day of work. The two of you got some drinks, found a table and continued your conversation under less focused circumstances.

“- and they simply cannot wrap their heads around the fact that enchanting takes not only time but a lot more gold than Vex is willing to spend. Cutting down the costs for R&D is simply impossible. I’d gladly make her some fireball arrows but she will have to accept the cheapest I can make them is 500gp a piece!” You lean your head on your crossed arms face down with a groan before sitting back up taking a swig of your drink.

“Forever the bane of practitioners of the arcane, dear.” The two of you clink your tankards together and drink. Some kind of commotion has begun on the other side of the room, people had already been gathered around making it difficult for you to see but it’s a tavern, not like you cared.

“That looks like the beginnings of a fight. What do you think? Cheater or sore loser?” Gilmore gestures towards the crowd getting rowdier.

“Both? Neither? The petty grievances of idiots?” You’re indifferent to the whole situation and prepare to sit back and watch the show enjoying your drink when you see a goliath burst from the crowd sending several people previously trying to keep him down flying in all directions with a roar in what could only be described as joy and excitement.

“Oh shit…” You throw your head back with an audible groan, let out a deep sigh and throw back your drink, slamming the now empty tankard on the table.

“These idiots will one day be the death of me.” Getting up from your seat you crack your knuckles trying to get a visual on your friends in what has now become a full on bar fight.

“But they are your idiots nonetheless.” Gilmore smiles all too innocently at you. Damn that charismatic sorcerer playing on your feels for your idiots. They are your idiots indeed.

A drunken halfling is mere inches away from clubbing Percy in the back of the head with a metal plate, Scanlan is running and dodging the attacks from a human by moving around chairs and tables and other people singing songs of encouragement to Pike who holds another by the front to their shirt punching them in the face. Keyleth has a grasping vine going attempting to keep her assailants at bay. Vex and Vax are back to back fighting off whoever comes at them with grins on their faces, picking a pocket here and there and Grog is enjoying tossing people into the furniture a little too much.

“Excuse me for just a moment.” You put on a proper apologetic smile before you turn around. The smile drops and you stride over to the group casting a 6th level hold person as you go successfully freezing, the halfling attacking Percy, two of Keyleth’s attackers, the one chasing Scanlan, and another that’s about to dodge Vex’s punch.

“Yeah!” Grog roars as he sees you join the fight. Maybe you’re enjoying this a bit too much for your own good after all… Someone should stop this fight before someone gets seriously hurt. Who are you kidding? You’re with Vox Machina; you’re basically gods.

[monicadeola]

In the introduction to his new manual on how to live a meaningful life, Jordan Peterson sets the tone by recounting the hellish sequence of health crises that afflicted his family during 2019 and 2020. They included his wife’s diagnosis with a rare and usually lethal form of kidney cancer, and his own downward spiral from severe anxiety and dangerously low blood pressure into benzodiazepine dependency and an acute withdrawal response, near total insomnia, pneumonia in both lungs, and “overwhelming thoughts of self-destruction”, culminating in his waking from a medically induced coma in a Russian intensive care unit with no memory of the foregoing weeks.

Conventional wisdom might envisage little appetite for a self-help book so relentlessly focused on what Peterson calls “the catastrophe of life” and “the horror of existence”. But then conventional wisdom wouldn’t have predicted many takers for his 2018 book, 12 Rules for Life, with its demanding message that readers stop blaming others and assume responsibility for their problems instead. Yet it made the Canadian psychologist world famous, and established him as a substitute father for many rudderless young men.

The culture wars over identity politics, social justice and free speech that helped fuel his rise have only grown more entrenched since then. The result is that the Peterson vilified by his critics, and celebrated by his more reprehensible supporters, bears ever less resemblance to the one encountered in his books. He comes across in writing, for instance, as a recognisable kind of self-help sexist, with a tendency to over-interpret the data regarding personality differences between women and men; but there seems little reason to condemn him as a virulent misogynist. Likewise, his outlook leans conservative – but if the distressed employee of his Canadian publisher who recently accused him of “causing [a] surge of alt-right groups” has any evidence for that claim, I haven’t been able to locate it.

Amid all this discord, it’s jarring to open Beyond Order to be reminded that Peterson isn’t best understood as a debater of politics or culture, but as a sui generis kind of personal trainer for the soul. He is stern, sincere, intolerant of fools, sometimes hectoring, fond of communicating harsh truths by means of Bible stories, ancient mythology, the works of JK Rowling and JRR Tolkien, and lengthy flights of Jungian-tinged abstraction about the Dragon of Chaos, the Benevolent Queen, the Wise King, and assorted other archetypes. Hari Kunzru’s description of reading Peterson’s last book – “like being shouted at by a rugby coach in a sarong” – has yet to be surpassed.

Beyond Order is presented as a counterweight to 12 Rules for Life, offering a dozen new rules organised (loosely) around the idea that as well as fighting the chaos that constantly threatens to engulf our lives, we must find ways to live with it, too; the book, Peterson writes, is an attempt to explain “how the dangers of too much security and control might be profitably avoided”. In fact the prescription turns out to be similar to last time: assume responsibility for your situation, dig deep to discover your capacity for self-discipline, and face life’s inevitable awfulness as unflinchingly as you can.

The main difference is a less individualistic approach, with more focus on friendship, marriage and parenting, as if Peterson’s trials had underscored for him the degree to which we can only make it through life together. Human beings “outsource the problem of sanity”, he writes: a meaningful life is impossible in isolation, so we must take responsibility for reaching out to others, and getting along with them. (Rule 10: “Plan and work diligently to maintain the romance in your relationship.”) We need courage in order to face the terrors of mortal existence, but we need love too. And love takes work.

The confused public conversation about Peterson arises, if you ask me, from the fact that there are two main kinds of suffering. There is the kind that results from power disparities between groups: racism, sexism, economic inequality. Then there is the universal kind that comes with being a finite human, faced with a limited lifespan, the inevitability of death, the unavoidability of grief and regret, the inability to control the present or predict the future and the impossibility of ever fully knowing even those to whom we’re closest. Modern progressives rightly focus much energy on the first kind of suffering. But we increasingly talk as if the second kind barely counts, or doesn’t even exist – as if everything that truly matters were ultimately political. Peterson, by contrast, takes the second sort of suffering very seriously indeed.

If the result sometimes borders on the banal – Peterson advises readers to make lasting romantic commitments; to allow themselves to be vulnerable with their partners; to keep beautiful objects in their homes; and to deal with distressing memories by writing them down – that’s partly because the best ways to cope with the darkness of life have been evolving since the beginning of civilisation. By this point, some of them are bound to sound familiar.

The widespread reluctance among progressives to see life as anything but a matter of power struggles helps explain, among many other examples, why a writer for Vox might perceive Peterson to be telling his followers that “the world can and should revolve around them and their problems”. He isn’t; but he does write as if each reader had a moral responsibility to treat their own situation, and the development of their own character, as a matter of life and death for them, because it is. His worst fans (whom Peterson could certainly do more to disown) make a similar mistake. The resentful whiners of the men’s rights movement imagine he’s taking their side in an identity-based fight, when in fact he reminds them – incessantly, on page after page after page – that resentment and the nursing of grievances are a direct road to psychological hell. (Rule 11: “Do not allow yourself to become resentful, deceitful, or arrogant.”)

Peterson’s biggest failing as a writer is one he shares with many of his loudest critics: the absence of a sense of humour. He takes the agonising human predicament seriously – but boy does he also take it seriously. This is understandable, in light of what he’s endured; but the effect is to deny his readers another essential tool for coping with life. We need courage and love, but it also helps to find a way to laugh at the cosmic joke. It’s often been observed that Peterson has a religious attitude toward life. But he is, you might say, overly Protestant and insufficiently Jewish about the whole business; he has none of the wry forbearance in the face of pain of the man in the Henny Youngman joke, helped on to a stretcher after a car crash. Paramedic: “Are you comfortable?” The injured man, shrugging: “I make a living.”

Peterson’s biggest failing as a writer is one he shares with many of his loudest critics: the absence of a sense of humour. He takes the agonising human predicament seriously – but boy does he also take it seriously. This is understandable, in light of what he’s endured; but the effect is to deny his readers another essential tool for coping with life. We need courage and love, but it also helps to find a way to laugh at the cosmic joke. It’s often been observed that Peterson has a religious attitude toward life. But he is, you might say, overly Protestant and insufficiently Jewish about the whole business; he has none of the wry forbearance in the face of pain of the man in the Henny Youngman joke, helped on to a stretcher after a car crash. Paramedic: “Are you comfortable?” The injured man, shrugging: “I make a living.”

Still, in the end, it’s a good thing that there’s space on the self-help shelves for a book as bracingly pessimistic as this one. Ours is a culture dedicated to a belief in the perfectibility of social institutions, in our limitless capacity to know the world, and to bring it under our control, and in the infallible rightness of present day moral judgments. Peterson offers an invaluable reminder that we’re finite and inherently imperfect; that we can’t control everything, or even very much – and that every generation of humans since the ancient Sumerians of Mesopotamia has thought itself morally unimprovable. Above all, we can’t escape suffering, or, as Peterson puts it with characteristic extravagance, “anxiety, doubt, shame, pain, and illness, the agony of conscience, the soul-shattering pit of grief, dashed dreams and disappointment, the reality of betrayal, subjection to the tyranny of social being, and the ignominy of aging unto death”. And our only hope of making it bearable lies in facing it, alongside others, as fully as we can.

Peterson’s final rule is to “be grateful in spite of your suffering”. This carries the implication that you ought to accept your lot in life – which is an offensive thing to say, of course, to someone fighting the impact of poverty, sexism or racism. But it’s very wise advice for anyone facing the universal catastrophe of having been born. Even if we managed to achieve the utopia of justice and equity, we’d still be stuck with the pain of being human. And courage and love – plus the laughter you won’t find in the pages of this book – really are the only ways to cope with that.

Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks: Time and How to Use It will be published by Bodley Head in August. Beyond Order: 12 More Rules for Life by Jordan Peterson is published by Allen Lane (£25). To order a copy go to guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.

[harlockauxillia30k-blog]

Old Junk part 2

OOC, kind of. This story could actually still be completely canon. Since it has Palanquin, its set somewhere near the end of the pre-heresy crusade. When I penned this the idea of the centauri and harlock himself were both completely raw and unrefined.

2nd centauri star rifles

-grenadier (life guards?)

-better armed/equipped/trained than standard

 ///

‘Still alive, Harlock?’

A portly general waddled over to the captain, bedecked in all the regalia of his station.

Harlock immediately and crisply saluted, then bowed.

“It is an honour you recall this captain’s name, lord.”

“Humpf. Come, the ball is waiting.”

 Harlock walked in and felt immediately, somehow, far too old for this venture. His newly woven fine captains uniform stood in stark contrast to the centuries etched into his gradually thinning features, appearing positively gangly now from so long in space and one too many campaigns without proper logistics. The permenant bags under his eyes chafed somewhat at the application of powders to help conceal them, and he could feel the distant throb of arthritis in the joints of his legs as he watched young officers waltz and weave through the immense ship-board ballroom.

“I order you to enjoy yourself Harlock. Your units performance on Tector IV made it even to the eyes of our Astartes legionaires.”

Harlock casually glanced over at the representative of the lords in question, an Imperial Fist captain by the name of Allonzo Ruiz; his tanned complexion standing out among a throng of spacers.

Harlock nodded at the general. “Many thanks, General Adolfus. I will do that” and in so doing, walked down the spiral staircase. Naturally, at the sight of a medal, or upon seeing him discuss with the general, a fair maiden struck like a knife towards him, glimmering in a gold dress which featured miraculously expensive ‘spirit-weave’ that appeared perpentually caught up in an astral wind as sashes and the like twirled about her slowly.

“My lady…” Harlock said, tipping an invisible hat out of reflex, but altering his course to avoid the troublesome woman.

“Good sir, a word please. I couldn’t help but notice your discussion with the general. I do say sir you appear a fine catch for one such as I. Might I offer you a dance? I have heard upon terra it is becoming popular for the women to propose…”

“I’m sure the terran ladies do have experience with such things.” Harlock grumbled, his sharp mind growing dull at the thought of dedicating more time to this harlot.

“Quite. The dance, then?”

The woman took the temporarily distracted captains hand and led him to the ballroom floor. Harlock’s mind fell into a lapse as muscle memory performed a rather adequate waltz, drilled into him by years of training at a young age.

“My name is Vermillion Rose. But you may call me Rosie, if you prefer such low-gothic vernacular.”

“Fascinating.” Harlock twirled her around, and mentally stripped and re-assembled a las-gun.

“…And what is your name, sir?”

Just then, as the song ended, a true hero of the imperium arrived. “Captain Harlock! Good to see you here! The colonel would have a word. And who might this be? What a fine dress my lady! Is it a Saturn design-“

And like that, Major Augustus Greave relieved Harlock of the first of many of tonight’s living mines that so many insisted be called ‘the fairer sex.’

Harlock muttered a not unfeeling ‘thanks for the reinforcement’ toward the charismatic major and sorted himself through the maze of figures dignitaries and officers until he came upon the Astartes captain, and Colonel Tark Palanqin. Harlock immediately saluted, his hawkish features looking every part the model inbred noble hero of the imperium.

“Harlock. Good on you for holding the rearguard. Your name came up in conversation. The Astarte here would have a brief word.” The colonel said, somewhat dismissively. Palanqin was one of several unfortunate political enemies Harlock maintained. Harlock bore no real hatred for the man- giving his company the high risk assignments out of a mission list was one thing, and intentionally trying to kill his own men was quite another thing altogether. It was almost routine at this point, that Harlock’s company would be saddled with the hard assignments. Accepted.

The Astarte nodded, and Harlock immediately saluted.

“Sir.” Harlock said, with arguably as much if not more veneration for the super-soldier than he had mustered for the general, a change noticed even in the timbre of his voice. This man was a marine. Respect was demanded.

“I watched your defense. For common men, it was sturdy.” Captain Ruiz said, sizing up the comparatively toothpick-sized figure before him.

“This humble Auxilliary would know if his battle plan could be improved upon.” Harlock said, with genuine reverence. The Fists knew more about holding ground than anyone else- living or dead. Harlock was a man ever willing to prostrate himself in order to secure knowledge.

“Your right flank lacked sufficient fortification, your soldiers aim and use of suppressive fire was undisciplined, and the formation as a whole was critically understaffed. It was why I was impressed you held. Against such weaknesses, it required good command to hold the lines.”

Ruiz shifted his eyes to the colonel. “Which was why I was curious about the manpower part of the equation.”

The colonel, surprised to be included here, blinked. “Most of it had been evacuated lord.”

Ruiz shook his head. “That particular position demanded two companies of auxillia, or about three squads of Marines to hold competently against possible threats. Had that fort fallen during your retreat into orbit, our enemies could have broken the cordon and assaulted our logistics bases and supply depots- of both the legion and your auxillia. I’ve already written the report on what I witnessed. I merely need a name to pin the possible disaster upon.

Harlock cursed within his mind.

“That would be my fault, sir. I should have requested another company assist in the defense” Harlock said quickly, hoping to diffuse the situation. Such self flaggelation was common practice. It would not due for a nobleman to pass his blame, and moreover, the marine was correct; he should have filed the request. However, doing so would have invariably been countered by Palanqin- so there had been no need to busy himself in such a fashion.

Ruiz raised an eyebrow. “It is strange not to see the both of you attempt to curb responsibility. An honourable trait.”

Ruiz nodded, and apparently satisfied with his answer, turned to leave; his part in this pageantry apparently concluded.

Palanqin stepped forward. “Whatever happens, be it demotion or transfer, I am impressed you held that position, Harlock. You have my thanks for retaining your force strength, I look forward to replacing you.”

The old flame, hate, licked at Harlock’s heart. But he suppressed it with a caustic biting ice of acceptance.

“I suppose so. I shall ready my things and await the Legion’s judgement.”

The next day, an orderly delivered Harlock’s punishment; inclusion in the first wave of the planetary assault of Kell’s Reach. Harlock was quietly puzzled by the honour.

***

 “Five minutes till landfall sir.”

“thank you tech sergeant. The latest?”

“The dropsite is presently secured sir. Astartes drop pods are destabilizing the line. With your arrivial we will be one of the first companies prepared to advance.”

Harlock nodded, and secured his breathing apparatus, covering his eyes, nose, and mouth in a whirring metal and glass contraption.

“Such readiness is naught if it is squandered, Tech-Sergeant. Have the landing force advance. We will catch up in our tardiness.”

“But your security picket sir-“

Harlock turned to regard his technical sergeant, concern and worry clouding his copper skinned brow.

“That’s what you are for, tech-sergeant. My sword.”

Harlock extended a hand to the blade, and the sergeant secured it in harlock’s mag-locked gauntlet.

“Give Lieutenant Veers the opportunity to lead. I am eager to evaluate his progress.”

“Yes, captain. Three minutes now.”

Harlock stood silently as the Sergeant secured himself to a seat harness, as G-forces rocked the vessel. Harlock’s body was only kept upright thanks to tactfully placed mag-boots and the blade of his sword which he wedged into a grate.

Behind him, were the fifteen members of his command staff.  Harlock was unsure about them; all untested and unproven, much like Lieutenant Veers. Both needed a trial by fire, and a planetary invasion was an opportune place. Should failure occur, Harlock would take direct action. Learning exercises for the Imperial Auxillia were always taught in blood.

The landing craft slammed down, and the door opened. Harlock unjammed his blade and stepped out into the crisp, foul air of Kell’s Reach. Around him were the abandoned remains of his company’s landing zone; rough rapidly dug breast works, some sandbags, and simple dirt landing pads. Harlock noted the casualties- both his and of the Kellans, and glanced at the new hole in his uniform, followed immediately by an ear splitting ‘CRACK’.

“SNIPER! ENEMY SNIPER!” Tech Sergeant Dienes screamed, throwing himself behind an embankment to suppress the shooter’s estimated position.

Harlock exhaled, and ducked behind a slab of concrete.

“Tech-sergeant, organize your squad.” Harlock patiently reminded his subordinate, checking the status of his plasma gun. It was a sickness of the immature or stupid not to do so; one risked spontaneous destruction of the gun and the user should simple mechanical adjustments not be made from time to time.

Dienes physically grabbed his corporal, F. Lauzanne, and screamed for accurate rifle fire on grid hilltop 270. The dropship also complimented the present wave of fire by shooting its defense guns at the hill in question, before taking off again; on to another Auxillia unit.

“Tech-sergeant. Don’t abuse the corporal.” Harlock said, and gestured for a vox net caster. Quickly and easily Harlock cycled imperial data net codes, until at last he reached the fleet.

“This is Harlock actual, of the Second Centauri Star Rifles, requesting fire mission, Gunship, over hilltop 270 in sector C, fire for effect.”

A moment passed, and an inhuman voice replied back. “fire mission accepted, the Mechanicum serves in competence.”

Harlock glanced at his command staff and evaluated them. The security members were doing their job rather well. Evidently that hilltop had a number of hostiles upon it, in a bunker perhaps, hidden so as to attack an unwary landing force. Many of the fresh riflemen appeared dreadfully nervous as they fired upon their targets.

“Troop. Remember this feeling- the fear and the exhilaration. That is what the job is all about. Put your fears to rest, and suppress the target, but do conserve your ammunition. Steady alternating accurate rifle fire. I do not want to see long bursts wasted upon dirt.”

Harlock looked directly at Sergeant Dienes, who blinked and offered a slight shrug.

It was around this time the gunship arrived, blasting the hilltop with rocket and bolter fire.

“Now, troop!” Harlock shouted, over the din of the aircraft. “As the emperor did on Terra, we advance into contact. On me. Tech Sergeant, stay close.”

Harlock adopted a brisk jog through the mire of Kell’s Reach. The tracks left by his lieutenant were easy enough to follow. Time to find his company, Harlock thought cooly.

The party of warriors moved through the blasted terrain. On their way, Harlock’s heads up visor spotted several poorly concealed mines.

“No sweepers.” Harlock said under his breath, ticking his tongue in annoyance.

Further along, he discovered the sight of an ambush. It seemed his company had turned it around, but he counted 11 dead warriors of the 2nd Centauri, while only 4 dead Kellans remained. Awful conduct.

It was not long after that the din of rifle fire alerted Harlock and his companions to the remainder of the Company, arrayed behind light cover in a rough battle line, firing against a hidden force behind the ruins of trees.

“Tech-sergeant, the vox amp.”

Dienes handed it while breaking out his magnoculars to get a visual on the enemy as he ducked behind a mud wall.

“Cease fire on the line.”

The company did as ordered, recognizing the voice instantly.

“First Platoon, affix Bayonets!”

A sloppy thirty seconds later this was accomplished. Mentally, Harlock assigned a week of drilling to the entire company as penance.

“First platoon on me. Second and Third, watch the flanks, and await my signal!”

With that, Harlock bounded over the ruins of what was once a muddy retaining wall and dashed toward the shattered trees, first platoon in tow, lead by a certain Lieutenant Veers.

 Harlock nodded at what he found; mostly nothing. In time, a trooper discovered the body of a single sniper.

Immediately he ordered the platoon fan out to search for ambushers, and grabbed Veers by the collar.

“Ive given you the Centauri 2nd’s best, crack rifle unit, and led them into an ambush, then wasted multiple engagements worth of munitions on a single sniper, you ignoramus. I’m taking the first personally. You will be attached as a rifleman under Tech Sergeant Dienes for the duration of this deployment.”

The Lieutenant stammered, then grimaced. “Fething Harlock. House Galm will never forget what you did-“

Harlock lost composure, and violently slapped Veers with the back of his hand, then signalled for a trooper to come over.

“This man is now Corporal Veers, for the duration of this deployment. Take him to Tech Sergeant Dienes, and order a general advance. Congratulate Tech Sergeant Dienes on his field promotion to acting lieutenant of my command staff.”

[theconservativebrief]

The Trump administration is threatening to cut off aid to the government of Honduras — and possibly Guatemala and El Salvador as well — if a caravan of more than 1,000 Honduran migrants, which has already crossed into Guatemala, isn’t stopped before it reaches the United States.

The threat initially came from President Trump’s Twitter account Tuesday morning, which makes it hard to know how serious it is; the president tweets a lot of threats that don’t go anywhere, and actually made an identical threat to the government of Honduras over a previous migrant caravan this spring. But Vice President Mike Pence tweeted something similar later Tuesday morning after a conversation with the president of Honduras.

Spoke to President Hernandez of Honduras about the migrant caravan heading to the U.S. Delivered strong message from @POTUS: no more aid if caravan is not stopped. Told him U.S. will not tolerate this blatant disregard for our border & sovereignty. https://t.co/d0fOMcpoUi

— Vice President Mike Pence (@VP) October 16, 2018

By Tuesday night, Trump had expanded the threat to the other two countries in the “Northern Triangle” of Central America:

We have today informed the countries of Honduras, Guatemala and El Salvador that if they allow their citizens, or others, to journey through their borders and up to the United States, with the intention of entering our country illegally, all payments made to them will STOP (END)!

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) October 17, 2018

Mexico is likely to step in to defuse the situation, as it has in the past. The Mexican government has already announced that caravan members who don’t have proper visas won’t be allowed to enter Mexico from Guatemala. (In April, Mexico allowed a caravan of more than 1,000 migrants to enter the country, but later forcibly dispersed them.)

But the Trump administration doesn’t appear sanguine about this possibility. As he was in April, the president is again fixated on the idea of a large group of people seeking to migrate to the US. And just as the April caravan helped spur a border crackdown that is still ongoing, the president’s current fixation is likely to drive US policy at the US-Mexico border and beyond.

Trump’s simplistic view of migration — in which people immigrate because their government is “sending” them, and governments ought to try to keep people from leaving so they can “make their countries great again” — doesn’t fit Central American migration to the US. The continued flow of people, often children and families, and often seeking asylum, from Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador through Mexico to the US is both a complicated policy problem (in which issues of economic and humanitarian migration get tangled up) and a matter of really sensitive diplomatic dynamics.

To accomplish Trump’s aim of preventing people from even reaching the US-Mexico border, much less being allowed to seek asylum in the US, the government needs all the help it can get from Mexico and Guatemala. Trump’s bullying makes it harder for his government to ask for that help. But when other governments do help the US with “border security,” the asylum-seekers themselves are often the ones who lose out.

For the past several years, a majority of people crossing illegally into the US from Mexico haven’t actually been Mexican — a growing share have been Salvadoran, Guatemalan, and Honduran. Central American migrants face a dangerous journey through Mexico, not least because Mexican immigration officials, acting at the behest of the US, have aggressively detained and deported (or worse) nearly a million Central American migrants in recent years.

So “caravans” have become a way for activist groups to call attention to the plight of migrants and to provide strength in numbers.

Last Friday, a group of about 160 Hondurans set out from San Pedro Sula, frequently labeled the murder capital of the world. According to the Associated Press, the Honduran caravan gathered strength as it made its way to Guatemala — with migrants choosing to join out of economic desperation, fears for their safety, or both — and numbered an estimated 1,600 once it arrived at the Guatemalan border Monday.

Guatemalan officials initially didn’t allow the caravan to enter, but after an hours-long standoff they relented.

In other words, while the Trump administration is threatening to punish Honduras if the caravan doesn’t return, the Honduran government can’t actually bring the migrants back (at least not without invading Guatemala). Stopping the caravan is now up to the Guatemalan government, or, more likely, the Mexican government.

Mexico’s response to the spring caravan shrunk the group heading to the US from more than 1,000 to about 300. But Mexico also responded to that caravan by giving migrants the opportunity to get humanitarian visas to stay in Mexico, while it appears to be taking a harder line with the current group.

But even though the caravan is several weeks from arriving at the US-Mexico border — and will almost certainly be apprehended before that — both Trump and Pence view its existence as a violation of America’s “border and sovereignty.”

That’s consistent with Donald Trump’s understanding of immigration policy, at least as it’s been portrayed in his own comments and reporting from inside the White House.

Trump doesn’t appear to understand that the US can’t simply shut down the US-Mexico border; that people coming to the US without papers can’t simply be repelled or deported (because they might have valid grounds to claim asylum).

Anybody entering the United States illegally will be arrested and detained, prior to being sent back to their country!

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) October 17, 2018

Nor does he appear to understand that people apply for visas to come to the United States rather than being preselected and “sent” by home countries trying to get rid of them. Given all that, it makes perfect sense that Trump would blame Central American countries for failing to prevent people from leaving — and would see it as an insult to the US that they didn’t.

Others in the Trump administration, however — not least White House Chief of Staff John Kelly, who served as director of the US military’s Southern Command (including Central America) before becoming Trump’s first Homeland Security secretary — understand that it’s much more complicated than that.

To anyone who isn’t Donald Trump, it’s obvious that simply preventing people from leaving a country is both a violation of human rights (since they may be fleeing persecution, including government persecution) and an unworkable solution. If the US can’t prevent literally everyone from illegally crossing the US-Mexico border, it’s odd to think that a much poorer and less well-governed country could do a better job with theirs.

Typically, the US’s response to Northern Triangle migration has been that it wants to address the “root causes” — to stop people from wanting to leave. Generally, that means encouraging investment in the economy of those countries and the “rule of law” of their governments.

This attitude — taken both by the Obama administration, and by Kelly’s DHS — justifies denying asylum to Central American migrants because it paints them as economic migrants rather than refugees fleeing violence. It also makes migration seem more “solvable” than it really is, as the commissioner of Customs and Border Protection, Kevin McAleenan, learned during a recent trip to Guatemala. (Alicia Caldwell’s article about McAleenan’s trip for the Wall Street Journal is well worth reading to understand just how complicated the issue is.)

But it’s good for relations with Mexico and Northern Triangle countries, who will happily agree that the problem with their countries isn’t violence or human rights abuses but simply that not enough people are giving them money.

Under Trump, however — and specifically once US-Mexico apprehensions returned to normal levels after an early-2017 dip — the attitude has shifted. Trump characterizes the problem with Central America as gang violence, but uses that as a reason for the US not to accept Central American migrants, rather than a reason to extend asylum to them.

Attorney General Jeff Sessions, who’s led the charge to narrow asylum grounds so that it’s harder for Central American gang victims to qualify for legal status in the US, has made it clear that he doesn’t believe gang violence is a type of persecution covered by US asylum law.

It’s essentially the “shithole countries” view. Central American countries are poor and crime-ridden, and instead of being a reason for the US to help them, it’s a reason for the US to build up walls.

The problem is that callousness and bullying make the governments of these countries less inclined to do what the US wants — as Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto gently chided Trump during the last caravan crisis.

As long as the Trump administration wants to prevent people from making it even within sight of the US-Mexico border, it desperately needs Mexico and all of the Northern Triangle countries to cooperate in apprehending migrants en route. After all, millions of the dollars that the US currently sends to Honduras are aid for military and border security.

In other words, the US is already exerting substantial control over the way that the Northern Triangle countries and (especially) Mexico engage in immigration enforcement — it’s just doing it with carrots for foreign governments, so that they’ll give the stick to asylum-seekers.

In this video from Vox’s Borders series, Johnny Harris explores how the US and Mexico work together to prevent Central American migrants from arriving at the US border.

The crackdown at the US-Mexico border can be traced back to Trump’s fixation with the caravan this spring: By the time 300 caravan members arrived at the San Ysidro port of entry (near San Diego), the Trump administration had put into motion the zero-tolerance prosecution effort that would lead to widespread family separation and had stepped up its restriction of asylum-seekers coming legally into official ports of entry.

The administration characterizes the latest caravan as yet more evidence that further enforcement is needed; “The current reporting on the migrant ‘caravan’ from Honduras is what we see day-in and day-out at the border as a result of well-advertised and well-known catch-and-release loopholes,” DHS spokesperson Katie Waldman said Monday.

It’s already an international effort. At some ports of entry, Mexican immigration officials are responsible for organizing a weeks-long line of asylum-seekers waiting their turn to be allowed to enter the US legally.

But human-rights observers claim the Mexican government isn’t primarily interested in protecting an orderly asylum process — it’s interested in helping the US stop people from crossing, legally or otherwise.

Advocates recount stories from asylum-seekers of officials on both sides telling them they aren’t allowed to seek asylum in the US, or of Mexican officials detaining them or threatening them with deportation after they tried to present themselves at a US port.

When the caravan arrived at San Ysidro this spring, the US didn’t allow any of its members to enter initially, due to the restrictions at the port of entry. It gradually allowed a few at a time to enter legally over the next days and weeks.

In the meantime, a Human Rights Watch report published last week alleges that Mexican police arrested two of the asylum-seekers and beat one of them, and a group of armed men attempted to burn down the shelter where another group of asylum-seekers was staying.

One Mexican official told Human Rights Watch that the US had asked the Mexican government to clear out the plaza where asylum-seekers were waiting — with the implicit understanding that anyone whose Mexican travel visas had expired would be deported. If Mexico had complied, it would have, essentially, deported people from Mexico because they had to wait in Mexico before being allowed to cross legally into the US.

It would have been an act of “border enforcement” without US involvement. That’s exactly what Trump and Pence are calling for now. The point is to prevent people from arriving — how that happens, and what happens to the people instead, appears to not be the US government’s concern.

Original Source -> Trump’s threats to stop aid over a new migrant caravan, explained

via The Conservative Brief