#it really made me think about how much of that style of preaching/performance is the sheer grating continuity of it --

[vaguely-concerned]

I went to my first ever pride yesterday (I'm originally from the countryside and have been too exhausted or depressed every year since moving closer to the city to go babey) and it was super fun :) about 100 000 people were in the pride parade this time, apparently, which is pretty impressive considering that the entire population of oslo is about 700 000. one fuckhead preacher with a loudspeaker making an annoyance of himself where we were standing, but no one really gave a fuck (correctly) so whatever lol. it did give me a valuable real life image to hang the concept of 'vocal minority' on, because that truly was 100 000++ people being cool and having a good glittery gay time and three (3) shitheads trying to ruin it, and the only reason those three were heard at all was that they were clearly pros at evil and came with a wireless mic so people couldn't easily disconnect it and shut them up

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

yes yes yes!! Thank you for this addition! Because I think you get to the root of everything which is that Love (& Beauty & Truth) is foundational to Marsilio's philosophy, it is the keystone (and Giovanni with it). Therefore, to deny that love - however it may have looked between them - is to deny Marsilio's whole philosophical structure and truth. Love is the Whole Point is engraved in every book and every letter he wrote.

And exactly as you said, for him the performance of his philosophy, the living of his philosophical truth (and he firmly believed philosophers must "practice what they preach," so to speak), is wholly embodied in his love for his friends. Particularly, his Perfect Love for Giovanni. Indeed, I think it can safely be argued that Marsilio's Platonic Ideal of Love is what he feels for Giovanni.

There's a post somewhere in my Marsilio Blogging tag about how his commentary on the Symposium, colloquially referred to has his book On Love/De Amore, was a love letter to Giovanni through Socratic dialogue. Helped, of course, by the fact that it was Giovanni who suggested to Marsilio that he work on a commentary on the Symposium (a very straight thing to suggest, Giovanni).

I feel like so much of straight-washing in history has to do with either A) believing we somehow invented queerness recently and there were no queer people in history (despite quite a lot of evidence to the contrary), or B) genuinely liking a historical figure and wanting to “rescue” them from “accusations” one finds distasteful. These arguments find the conclusion that Marsilio was queer to be aspersions on his character, to be insults.

I think a lot of it, in Marsilio's case, is B. People want to "save" him from such horrible "accusations". They want to preserve what they view as his "respectability" and "seriousness". If he is A Queer, then in their eyes that lowers the value of his philosophy and other life work. As if loving a man makes his Latin translations of all of Plato "lesser". As if loving a man reduces the beauty of his writing and makes it "less universal". People are keen on his "universality". It's patently absurd and utterly insulting, of course, but god is hatred and dislike of the gays is one hell of a drug.

(I really would have loved to have heard an account of a debate between him and Savonarola, whose entire philosophy seems to have been rooted in Fear and Awe)

Me toooooo. It would have been so interesting. Also their preaching styles were so different, too. Marsilio was softer spoken, had a slight stutter on the letter S, and tended to just talk about love 95% of the time. (Would choose him as parish priest if I lived in 1480s and 90s Florence. No question about it.) Savonarola was known for having a very rough, and at times unappealing voice, but he was charismatic in how energetically and furiously he could get worked up on the pulpit.

The whole Marsilio-Savonarola thing is fascinating. Marsilio initially was a supporter because he approved of the political reforms to the Republic that Savonarola was suggesting. Then things went pear shaped and Marsilio quickly jumped ship being like "he's utterly WHACK and I think maybe is a demon but isn't aware he's a demon."

Giovanni: and he's burning books.*

Marsilio: AND HE IS BURNING BOOKS!! [fumes]

*all books burned were not original/only copies to Savonarola's credit. He made sure, of the books, nothing truly priceless went on the flames. And Bonfires of Vanities wasn't unique to him, it was not an uncommon Lenten practice to symbolise in a big way that death comes for all and worldly vanities mean little compared to the glory of God etc. etc. etc. I still suspect Marsilio vibrated with fury over this.

God I would give anything to read that letter he wrote to Giovanni about Savonarola. I want to hear the hot gossip!!

And yes, they were very opposite on their approach to preaching and personal philosophies. Especially around how to engender improved behaviour in people. Savonarola was classic, par-for-the-course fire and brimstone. Ficino was all about cajoling people with things like "I know power and wealth are alluring, but there is a better man in you that can resist those temptations. Let that better man shine forth" etc.

A silly aside:

He felt closer to God through his unapologetic love for another man, and he was going to tell the world about it.

All I can think when I read this is: Marsilio was ~~In Love~~ and he was going to make it Everyone's problem

ok also, Carol Kaske, this statement is absurd. Willful blindness, at this rate. Like, obviously using modern terminology for what Ficino experienced and how he would have understood himself and his feelings and attractions is obviously limiting etc. etc. <- insert the usual disclaimer here.

However, to deny there is queerness of some capacity in his letters is patently absurd.

[existingispetty]

Hullo ^*^ wondering if I could get a matchup for BSD and Genshin? (Feel free to do 1 if thats too much)

I use all the pronouns (including neos), and go by X ^^

Im omnisexual

Im 20, and 5’4. Ive got hair I dye a lot, often in various blues. I dress in a, well- its been described as “Indie Band Cover” style, with PLENTY of printed button downs. On top of that, I wear a sweater almost all the time.

Im an ISTP, and an introvert. I have been described as “Sarcastic, yet Anxious and nice to be around”. Im not confident at all, unless Im preforming on stage, whether it be with my band, or in a musical/play. Im extremely clingy, and occasionally very hot headed if I don’t agree with somebodies decisions. I live to make people laugh, so people I consider friends or a romantic interest should have a good sense of humor.

Im not exactly romantic, but I love clinging to those I love, and making them things. I really like cats, music (a mix of punk, alt rock, indie, and ska), theatre, drawing, and collecting outfits and plushies.

However I dislike loud noises, gorey things, falling, and way too many people. I also overheat quite easily, so Summer is horrible as well. Despite my hatred of gorey things, I love watching true crime (JCS)/buzzfeed unsolved, because its very interesting to me.

(Hope this is enough (〃ω〃))

Thank you so much for the ask, I’m so sorry it took so long and I really hope you enjoy it! Have a good day/night! P.S I’m definitely fine writing both!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Your matchups are…(insert really aggressive drumroll*)

Edogawa Ranpo

Ranpo would find you so entertaining from the beginning. Ranpo would love the sarcastic part of you and he would be amazing at finding ways to reassure you! Ranpo thinks you are amazing both on and off stage! He would go to every performance physically possible on his part! Ranpo is your biggest fan and will constantly give you flowers after a performance! Ranpo is also incredibly clingy he had to spend at least 2 hours with you a day otherwise he gets really cranky. Ranpo would love to have intellectual debates with you and your hot-headedness doesn’t affect him at all. Ranpo would adapt to whoever he’s around, whatever you think is funny he’ll talk in that way. Ranpo will notice every small detail. Ranpo would love to be around you at all times, he would get that sparkle in his eyes every time you give him something as well. Ranpo can act like a cat at times and he owns at least one with the dumbest name ever. Ranpo would love to listen to music and he would enjoy Hamilton so much… Ranpo makes stick figures if that counts. Ranpo actually has his own little collection and he would to add to yours as well! Ranpo tries not to be loud around you and while he does slightly tease you for your dislike of Gorey things, he’s not a big fan either. Ranpo hates summer because he gets hot due to the amount of clothing he wears. Ranpo will watch so much true crime but he’s too good at solving all of the unsolved cases.

Venti

Venti would giggle at any sarcastic remarks made by you especially. Venti is so reassuring without even trying. Venti every day will tell you that he thinks you are amazing and will preach about all your talents. Venti would love to join you on stage anytime he can, and if he has to be a bystander that throws flowers at you at the end of the performance he’s still just as proud. Venti is the definition of clingy any time you and he are free he’s somewhere near you, even if you don’t know it. Venti is quite calm during little debate so he finds your short fuse a little funny. Depends on how you describe a funny personality but I believe Venti has it in him. Venti's eyes would light up at gifts and affection. You hug him? Venti returns with a squeeze that was tighter than your own. Venti is as we all know quite allergic to cats so just keep them away from Him And he won’t diss them or anything. Music is Venti's specialty so when you hang with him expect to hear a song or 2. Venti is big into acting he would enjoy musicals like the Heathers. Venti would love drawing just random interesting people he meets. Venti has a collection specifically of stuffed cats since he can’t own the real thing. Venti is actually quite quiet around you. Venti dislikes Gorey things due to the trauma of his friend's death. Venti can deal with people but he doesn’t want to be the center of attention all the time. Venti is the anemo archon for a reason he loathes summer, anemo is chill and relaxing while pyro is chaotic and consuming. Venti would watch true crime but not understand any of it.

[blonde-toddy]

Random and Not So Random thoughts while watching Bridgerton: Season 1, Episode 4

Oh they're at court.

Also she's not a commoner. She's the daughter of a Viscount.

Another Daphne brag moment, but homegirl really got the juice. She's bagging mfs over hand holding and dancing.

Violet dgaf. She's hungry now, damn it!

Oh he's buying jewelry already.

Ooooooh the way she imagines the Duke behind her. Honey yes. That scene was hot.

Too bad she came back to reality.

Hyacinth is my spirit animal.

Lady Whistledown ain't ready to write Simon off yet. She's waiting on the Dukes Hail Mary.

Shit. So am I.

I have never seen someone look so depressed in such an exquisite piece of jewelry. It's like the necklace chokes her. Testament to the acting and script for that though. It truly represents a trap.

Awww Simon is wearing that heavy bag out. I would say poor Simon, but he made this damn bed.

I love Alice and Will. They are the kind of wholesome love I need to keep my heart steady watching this damn show. She's his rider and I love it.

Alice roasting Simon over Daphne. Get. Yo. Girl. Mane.

I always cringe when a man tells a woman to smile.

Poor Marina. Portia is determined to find her the oldest mf. She's playing smart though.

Those damn dingbat sisters.

Maybe Penelope does care.

Well at least the least mean sister got a caller. They're awkward/cute.

Eloise girl, I love feathers in hair. Your one dimensional preaching is wearing me out again.

A boxing match date? I'd be down.

The prince legit seems like a nice guy. And Daphne is trying....but she's CLEARLY hung up on Simon.

Oh look Simon's losing focus on his friend because he's too focused on Daphne and the prince.

Ok mf! Take that shit off and roll them sleeves up. It turns me on too sis!

Oh look at the sweet family talk with the prince. Girl he'd give you any and everything you wanted.

But you and the Duke are just ATE TF UP about each other!

Mondrich for the win!!!!

Oh Benny. You've got a new friend. But what kind of friend? Give me more of this.

Well Anthony is smug and pleased as punch. Simons courtship of Daphne has ended. She has her perfect suitor. And Simon is leaving England to go rake and fuckboy about.

Though Simons hard slammed shot when the prince approached says he's anything but happy.

Violet always worries about the wrong shit.

Hyacinth always wants to know the good shit.

Be Hyacinth.

Oh fuck the prince is ready to propose. That shit escalated quickly.

SIMON!!!!!! Now would be a good time for that Hail Mary.

Good job Anthony. Way to realize that the women in your life have agency over THEMSELVES.

Violet always beating around the damn bush.....but she is still 100% #teamduke

Aw Daphne you're gonna break down snitching on yourself.

If it wasn't real with Simon you wouldn't be so ate up about it, and you would be rocking tf out of that necklace from the prince instead of crying.

There's a reason for the black in her outfit. For Daphne, who is normally all pastel blues, that black is her mourning. It's her 'attempting' to put to death her feelings for the Duke. And also I think mourning the loss if the bond they shared. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. But this seems like a very deliberate show with it's details.

Danbury ripping Simon open before she sends him off. Big energy.

She knows everything you thick headed mf. Why won't you just listen?! You letting your rank ass daddy live rent free in your soul.

He's so jaded it hurts.

Ayyyye this Trowbridge party looks like the real deal.

Oh gawd. Marina and the old man.

Mr. Finch and the cheese frock. Jesus who wrote this. I love it

Cressida you have been Daphnes biggest hater all season and now you're mad that she's with the prince. He was never gonna marry yo basket headed ass anyway.

Oooooh shit Simon sees the 'intimate painting' and has 2nd thoughts.

Go. Get. Yo. Girl.......Bitch.

Ooooh Benny's at the new homies spot and it's lit!

Naked models, easels, mingling between the classes. Yes indeed.

2nd sons having fun. Hell yes.

Damn Even Sienna at the ball...as a performer of course.

And Anthony looking tongue tied.

Violet....you need to chill. There take another sip.

Portia trying to shade Lady Trowbridges style is comical. Both of y'all bitches gaudy as hell.

Oh shit Phillipa lost her man.

Wtf is wrong with Lord Featherington?

And wtf are you doing Eloise?

Ayyye she just let her have it. You think servants have the time to be Lady Whistledown? I'm dead.

"Get out."

Ok Penelope with your saucy ass.

Well fuck! You just pushed him right to Marina. You played yourself boo.

Oooh the prince is about to shoot the big shot and Daphne keeps running away.

She done spotted Simon. Its over.

Fuck off Cressida.

Rip that mf necklace off girl.

Simon followed her ass outside.

"Miss Bridgerton." Motherfucker, call her Daphne.

"I came to say goodbye." Man. Go to hell.

Daphne serving those barbs. You not ready to keep playing with her.

Damn, Simon. If you're not gonna give her what she wants, get out the way.

Tell his ass sis.....even if you don't believe it yourself.

Really Simon? You stand there quiet as a mf church mouse whiles she's pleading with you to say something.....then you take off after her once she walks away from your shit

I swear.....men.....yall mfs really do shit like this. Speak up! Or...LET. ME. GO.

She's really cracking on his ass and I'm here for it....but wtf us up with his "I forbid you." Who tf are you to me? I'm glad she ain't playing with his ass.

Ooooh he called her Daphne and grabbed her.

Oh honey this is what fulfillment feels like, isn't it?

He's definitely fulFILLing her all the way up!

Oh shit Anthony caught them.

At least he finally landed some decent blows on Simon.

This RAKE ass mf still won't marry her.

Oh Simon.....for once.....Anthony is in the right and you the wrong. You are really about to die over your fucking daddy issues. Boy bye. Again.

Poor Daphne.

Wait, how did Cressida know she was in the garden?

That can't be good.

At least Benny is having a good time.

Dearest Portia, when you go looking for shit, it usually falls in your lap.

Marina keeps carrying on about Colin and Penelope is crushed.....or scheming....or both.

Aww Penelope let her hurt feelings cause a fight with her bestie. Her jealousy is seething.

Daphne still out here having to educate Anthony....though I get the need for the duel. And he still thinks he's running something.

Ooooh this is why they brought up 2nd sons.....Anthony is prepping Benny to take over. Well Benny, at least you had one good night out.

Colin caring for drunk Violet is parenting goals one day.

Oh great, now yall wanna bring Colin into the shit.

Simon raiding Wills spot for booze was so uneccesarily loud.

So Berbrooke alludes to her dishonor and Simon caves his fucking head in. Simon legit dishonors her and he's just like ,"Kay, guess I'll go get shot now." Someone get this man some therapy.

Oh great Anthony is back at Siennas door with more of his bullshit. Girl. Close that door.

No, not after you've let him in and climbed his torso. I guess y'all fuckin again.

He lost all the money and now he's fucked up.

Her face while he cried, is literally the face of every woman sick of a mediocre man's shit.

Oooh now they're all riding off into battle like the fucking idiots they are.

Colin is so pure.

I knew that Cressida shit would come back.

Well at least Anthony was willing to care for Sienna in his death....but damn mf, treat me right while WE'RE here.

Oh the dramatics of drawing a gun.

Nobody is here for Simon's weak ass apologies and I'm okay with that.

Hurry hurry Daphne.

Daphne down....but she's alright.

Call them idiots just like they are.

Simon still being a hoe about this shit. You really about let her be ostracized because you're a fuck boy.

Ultimate fuck boy line...I can't be with you because I love you too much. Fucking hell.

They do obviously love each other though.

Hold up.......you CAN NEVER, or WILL NEVER give her children. Don't play this like you have a reproductive issue.

So your reason for not marrying her is that you "can never" give her children and you know that's what her heart desires.

You playing with fire, Simon.

I wonder how much shit I let slide with his character just because he's portrayed so well by the phenomenal Regé-Jean Page.

No, I do love Simon's damaged ass. He just makes me so mad.

So the duel resumes......or not.

Daphne said, "Fuck them kids, give me my husband." Or something like that.

Well. This us an uncomfortable arrangement even though both of these idiots are in love.

Simon's evasion will most certainly come back to bite him in the ass.

But I'll be here with my popcorn and tissue, rooting for these cool kids to make it!

[p1harmonyofficial]

[📰] K-Pop Rookies P1Harmony Are Writing Their Own Coming of Age Story

By Crystal Bell

K-pop group P1Harmony debuted three months ago with their audacious single "Siren," and member Jiung is already dreaming of the perfect solo vacation. The 19-year-old singer wants to emphasize that this is a trip he'd like to — no, needs to — do alone, when he can safely do so. ("You need to bold the word 'alone,'" leader Keeho adds in English, a knowing glint of mirth in his eyes. "Put it in italics too.") So, more about this excursion: "If possible, I want to go to a foreign country," Jiung tells Teen Vogue from an office in Seoul, South Korea. He doesn't have a specific place in mind, just somewhere new and exciting and, most importantly, a place where he can be alone to freely organize his thoughts without any other responsibilities.

It sounds like a lyric ripped from the pages of his notebook, or the plot of a coming-of-age movie his 17-year-old groupmate Intak would enjoy: a young man on a voyage of self-discovery, chasing a feeling to a faraway land to escape his adolescent ennui. For now, however, it's just a lofty resolution for the new year.

"I also want to travel alone because I've never done it before," youngest member Jongseob, who recently turned 15, enthusiastically offers in Korean. Jiung, always one to help the younger sort out his feelings, is quick to quash the teenage rapper's theoretical plans. "That's not very realistic," he says. "You're too young to travel alone." Undeterred, Jongseob carries on: "Then my goal this year is to drink more milk."

"He wants to grow taller, but I don't think milk helps that much," Keeho comments, shaking his head while his teal quiff stays firmly in place. "I heard that's a myth."

Technically, they're not wrong. Unaccompanied minors can't travel internationally without a parent's formal consent in South Korea, and there's no proven scientific correlation between dairy and height. But spoken aloud, this interaction sounds more like playful goading among good friends. It's a testament to Keeho, Theo, Jiung, Intak, Soul, and Jongseob's comfortable dynamic as a group that the copper-haired youngest just earnestly smiles through the minor sting of his hopes being swiftly dashed.

For all of the training that goes into a K-pop artist's career, perhaps the most vital lesson is learning how to symbiotically coexist in close quarters with someone who is unfamiliar to you. Like most things, it is a process. Harmony isn't achieved overnight, especially among six teenage boys who have differing definitions of the word "clean." Cultural differences present unique challenges, too. When Keeho left his home in Canada to pursue his musical dreams as a trainee at FNC Entertainment in Seoul, he didn't have much trouble fitting in. Or so he thought. "He was funny," Jiung says in retrospect. "But I don't think we were able to communicate well." It wasn't that they couldn't understand what Keeho was saying — the soulful singer grew up speaking Korean with his family — but rather they couldn't understand him.

"Everyone would be stressed out, and I would be like, 'Guys, relax. Why are you stressing out over this?'" Keeho says animatedly with his hands. "They couldn't understand why I was so relaxed. How could I not care about anything? And I couldn't understand why they were always so stressed about things. It took a while to get on the same page."

That's where communication comes in. "The key is being honest," Jiung explains. "We have a lot of talks." These regular conversations allow the members to resolve potential issues before they spiral into larger, more disharmonious problems. Keeho is refreshingly open about this. "We're always stuck together," he adds. "We live together. We see each other 24 hours a day. Seeing anyone 24 hours a day, you'll eventually be, like, ugh, get away from me, but because we communicate so much, that [feeling] is reduced." Establishing rules and boundaries also helps. "We have a basic rule that you clean up the mess you've made," Jongseob says from where he's perched behind Jiung. (This rule is especially important to methodical Jiung.) And then there's vocalist Theo, the eldest member who also takes on the role of the group's even-keeled mediator because he's a good listener, and he likes giving advice.

"I'm not very opinionated," the blonde says. At 19, he's a few months older than Keeho but harder to read. He's both lighthearted and enigmatic. "I'm not good at expressing my feelings," Theo explains. "But the members are really good at expressing themselves and their emotions, so I'm learning how to open up because of them." According to Keeho, Theo is "bad at being serious," adding, "We'll have to have a serious talk, and he won't be able to take it. He's always trying to lighten the mood. He's the comedic relief."

Keeho makes a habit of describing the members' various idiosyncrasies in fervent detail. It's a very leaderly thing to do, to make sure that everyone feels understood. Occasionally, he also jumps in to help interpret their answers into English, or to encourage others to speak. Soul, who is half-Korean but was raised in Japan, could be described as a quiet person: an introvert who wears a lot of black, listens to metal, and has a particular obsession with massive skull rings and accessories. But he's also acutely perceptive. He'd rather listen and observe than be an active participant in the conversation. "I like when the rest of the members are discussing an idea," he says quietly in Korean (he's still learning the language). "I like watching them talk." It's not that he's not involved, but as Keeho puts it, "He's always supporting us silently and observing us." For Soul, it's more fun to sit and watch.

You can get a sense of these dynamics as they unfold on the last track of the group's debut EP, Disharmony: Stand Out. It's a skit, or audio recording of the members — then, just trainees — as they talk candidly about their dreams to perform and contemplate the implications of such aspirations. "I work hard here for the debut, but when I go to school, I wonder, 'What am I doing here?'" Intak says on tape, recalling how strange it feels to not have the same priorities as his classmates who are all preparing for their college admissions. Theo quells his concerns, telling him how lucky he is to already be working toward his dream. "That's a cool thing," Keeho adds, as Soul silently listens in the background.

While his peers prepared for their academic futures, Intak was spending his evenings dancing, rapping, singing, and writing lyrics, while also stunt training alongside his groupmates and preparing to become a… movie star. A few weeks before the release of their album, P1H: A New World Begins hit theaters across South Korea in early October. The first K-pop origin story to hit the big screen, the feature film introduced P1Harmony and their sci-fi lore to the masses. Long story short: After a deadly virus spreads chaos and violence around the globe, six boys with extraordinary gifts are humanity's only hope for survival. The filming experience was invaluable for the artists, who until that point had only ever studied music and performance. "Acting training really helped with my facial expressions," Intak says. "I learned how to portray my emotions on stage." Keeho agrees, adding, "We got very friendly with the camera."

Singers who rap, rappers who sing, dancers who act — the boys of P1Harmony forgo clearly defined roles in favor of being versatile and, well, good at everything.

As for their music, Disharmony: Stand Out is a snapshot of Gen Z unrest, simmering with angst ("Siren") and bucking wildly, vibrantly against convention ("Nemonade"). Teenage turmoil has been fueling the K-pop industry since the very beginning, and there's a certain nostalgia to P1Harmony's no-holds-barred approach. Members Soul and Jongseob both credit B.A.P and their hard-hitting style with inspiring them to become artists, with Zelo influencing Jongseob to pursue rap in elementary school. You can hear those more aggressive, hip-hop-tinged influences on Disharmony, as well as softer, more lyrical R&B flourishes ("Butterfly").

"We wanted to convey feelings and situations that are not harmonious," Jongseob says. "We want to say don't be afraid to stand out and to say what you want to say — speak your truth, and do it with courage and confidence." Despite his age, the young rapper carries himself like a veteran. By all accounts, he's earned the title, having won the competition series K-pop Star 6 at age 12 in 2017 and competed in YG Treasure Box less than two years later. These experiences, he says, helped him feel more comfortable performing. By the time he came to FNC, he was already a prodigy with the confidence and flow of a performer twice his age.

"There are so many people, our age especially, who aren't always able to speak courageously and confidently," Keeho adds. "So we wanted to encourage everyone, especially ourselves, to never be afraid to say what you want to say."

And they practice what they preach. All of the members are credited lyricists on the album, with all six collaborating on the roaring hip-hop track "That's It." Part cypher, part vibes, "That's It" is teeming with boyish swagger and possibility. "Even though it was the first time all six of us worked on a song together, surprisingly we were all on the same page from the very first meeting, and it came together quickly," Jiung recounts, adding that each member wrote their own verse. "It was fun," Keeho chirps.

That creative energy is also channeled into their performances. "Because we do take part in a lot of the songwriting, we also want to convey that in our dance," Intak explains. Though he's part of the group's rap line, his first love was dance. He started taking lessons as a child. "My mom is a dancer, so she's where I got my love of dancing," he says. As such, he's well-versed in conveying emotion through motion. "We always have an idea of how we want to portray these emotions with our bodies," he says. The members choreograph their own center gestures. These movements are a small but significant part of any performance, because this is where their charisma and individuality shine brightest.

"I wanted to become a singer because I wanted to perform onstage," Theo says. "So being able to be on music programs performing on real stages, surrounded by bright LED lights and visual backdrops, I feel like a main character. When all of the lights are on me, I feel like a star."

Unsurprisingly, even when he's offstage, he's still singing. He even likes to call his friends and take song requests. "I like to sing to my friends through the phone," he says. "I'll sing anything they want. I play piano for them, too. They're very open to listening to me." Next to him, Keeho adds, "My friends would not want me to sing to them." (The internet respectfully disagrees.) Meanwhile, Jongseob turns to making music and writing lyrics in his downtime. It's a great way to relieve stress, he says. These days, Intak turns to animated films to ease his mind. He's a fan of Studio Ghibli films, and he really likes the Japanese manga characters Doraemon and Shin Chan.

"I watch a lot of coming-of-age stories about these innocent kids who are in the process of becoming adults," he explains. "I get inspired by watching them. I don't want to lose that innocence, so watching those animations make me feel youthful." It's hard to imagine Intak without his boyish sensibility. It's seeped into every social media post and YouTube vlog (or, #PLOG). Yet, as an artist, as a teenager, it's an unusual phenomenon to be perceived by thousands of fans before having the clarity to perceive yourself. It's something no amount of Miyazaki or training prepares you for.

Initially, Theo had a hard time opening up on camera. The mere thought of it made him nervous, but the more he did it, the easier it was for him to parse his own feelings. "I'm not very good at expressing emotions like thank you and I love you," he says. "But it's a lot easier to express those feelings now because I feel them so sincerely. I can say thank you for loving me [to fans] because I truly mean it."

"There are people from all around the world who leave me messages, and that makes me so happy," Intak says. "It drives me to do more and to give more to them."

And there will be more to give. Disharmony: Stand Out was just the beginning, and Keeho already has some very big goals for 2021. At the top of the list? "Rookie of the Year, come on!" he says spiritedly of the K-pop industry's coveted award. "It's definitely possible. I'm manifesting it right now." He also wants to make more music, maybe release more covers. "We want to come back a lot," he smiles. "I'm thinking [of] at least three releases next year."

Then there are more personal goals, like Jiung's solo travels. "I want to take better care of my mental health," he adds, noting that it starts with a more positive mindset. "I want to be a better person overall." Intak wants to, for the first time in his young life, maintain a consistent routine for a healthier lifestyle. That includes getting enough sleep when there aren't any schedules. ("He could sleep, but he chooses not to," Keeho jokes.) After monitoring his fancams, Theo has decided that he wants to build more muscle. And Soul hopes to go home to Japan to see his dog, a Frenchie named Mochi.

As for Keeho, in true Libra fashion, he wants to maintain a sense of balance: "I want to stay true to myself," he says. "I don't want to be like, oh, the fame is getting to me. I don't want to change. I want to stay grounded and stay thankful and be grateful, always. I also want to make some more money." He laughs, then adds, "I can't lie!"

No, he can't. Honesty is the key to harmony, after all.

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week: 2021-03-01

First Monday of the Month. My boss just quit at work which means I'm now the only formally trained engineer left who has any particular specialization in embedded systems. This week is going to be a doozy.

I also wrote a Very Long set of media updates because I’ve been consuming some stuff that makes me think a lot. Never a good sign.

Listening: I spent all of Saturday playing Minecraft after talking with some friends about it during the week on IRC. Practicing what I preach with regards to my Large Biome Supermacy policy, which does involve a lot of walking. Hence, I started catching up on The Adventure Zone: Graduation again, I'm like ten episodes behind.

https://maximumfun.org/episodes/adventure-zone/the-adventure-zone-graduation-ep-32-by-a-haircut/

I don't really enjoy Travis' DM'ing style. It's very loose and he has a tendency to let players run wild without much structure which is a tricky thing to handle. He does a lot of worldbuilding and character design but doesn't seem to plan much in the way of arcs. That pays off sometimes (returning to the school to realize they broke a promise they made a few sessions earlier and had to deal with consequences, for example) and when it does, it’s really good, but it's finnicky. I know DM's who can do that, but, well, actually I know One Single DM who can do that well and she's absurdly smart.

Reading: Still on Worm, I just got past chapter 8 or so now. It lives in my phone browser so I've mostly been reading it whenever I get some spare time, which is a good sign. If a book doesn't grab me I need to really settle down in a quiet space to avoid getting distracted, but I can read Worm while someone else is on the phone in the same room.

It is a story with a lot of very well-conveyed feelings and events. It's very easy to imagine yourself in it. Characters actually act like they care about what they're doing, I feel like writing this took a lot of care to keep everyone on model.

There's also a certain care given to the superpowers that you'd usually only see in forum posts arguing about an actual superhero story. Everyone always likes to argue about how far you can push a superpower: can you use teleporting to fly? What prevents a speedster from catching fire in the air? Where does the energy for a  pyrokinetic ability come from? Worm takes these and runs with them as a way to make absolutely any fight become a series of gambits relying on whether a power can or cannot be used to perform some high-stakes trick.

The world certainly has some underpinning contrivances to explain why no one gets killed very often but I've always considered nitpicking the base contrivances of a setting silly, because that's precisely what they are: contrived, in order to allow the rest of the story to flow from there. Like arguing about Omega’s abilities in the famous thought experi-*I am dragged off stage by the ratblr police for making a by now extremely stale joke*

Watching: I came and edited this section in like an hour before this posts because I keep on forgetting to put it in. I don’t really like watching TV and with my parents stuck at home in Pandemic Times it’s how they pass the time.

I did finish S3 of the Good Place. It’s very funny. I’m glad I’m watching it and I’m going to have to go find S4 because ZA Netflix doesn’t have it for whatever reason. It feels a little like it was written by Phillip Pullman if Phillip Pullman was a comedy TV writer.

I also really enjoyed the PBS Spacetime video about how time causes gravity. Love when an explanation of concepts is good enough that you drawn the conclusion on your own.

Playing: Visual Novel Hell plus Minecraft.

I spent approximately seven hours in Minecraft over two days. I tend to hop in and out of games for 1-2 hours at a time but there's a handful that can suck me in for an entire day. Minecraft, Warframe, Horizon Zero Dawn, Night in the Woods. Bastion, to a lesser extent. I end up avoiding them because I don't like loosing entire days, but I wasn't really planning on doing anything this weekend anyways.

Minecraft was mostly a long-ass trek to find a saddle, because as previously mentioned, I enjoy playing it with Large Biomes for the sense of scale.

I also completed Act 3 of Psycholonials and Eliza.

Psycholonials is odd. It is doing the thing that Hussie does where it dances around what's ostensibly the story to carry out the actual story. You get used to the trope after your first encounter but it still makes you wonder when the other shoe will drop, and of course, there's no reason it ever has to. The story may remain in suspended animation behind the every growing mess of narrative red tape tying the B-plot together.

Stories about Social Media have no well established norms. I think I might pick up Feed by M. T. Anderson and also perhaps Hank Green's books sometime. See what context they set that in.

Eliza is frustrating to me. It's a game for programmers, by programmers, about programmers. I'm friends with a lot of Capital P Programmers, the types who go to university and get sniped for developer positions at Seattle or Silicon Valley tech companies and who make great and terrible things and then warn you about the deep problems that underpin the slowly rolling ball of venture capital and bloated technology that is the tech industry. But at the same time, it makes me feel like I've burnt out on that conceptually before I even went in. It’s a whole other world that I’m familiar with but very distant from. In fact, that’s kinda how I feel about Psycholonials too. I’m familiar with the social media rat race but I also don’t go there. Parallels!

My cousins (who are halfway to Capital P Programmers, only so much you can do halfway around the world from silicon valley) warned me not to go into CS, because it would bore me, and that's a non-trivial part of why I'm in Engineering. They gave the same advice about Biology and Physics, without that I may have ended up in Microbiology. it’s not my domain, but because of how Engineering is going, you end up a lot closer to programmers than you think. I found out the other day that most of the software developers on my team have no formal tertiary qualifications, which is accepted in CS but of course, right out when it comes to engineering. It’s a whole other world that I kinda expected to skip around. I might go into this another time, since this post is already getting long.

Making: I haven’t done any engineering scicomm posts on here in a while so I started a few blank drafts and finally got one off the ground. With some luck I’ll have that ready this week. What’s it about? Not saying! It might change!

I’ve been doing layout for a custom keyboard, I need to call a laser cutting place and find out what their kerf requirements are so I can adjust the path accordingly. Wouldn’t do to burn a couple hundred rand on an oversized part, I’m paying for this, not my employer like the other times I’ve done laser cutting, so I’m probably not going to spring for getting one of their designers to check my design. At some point I should CAD up a chassis, but at the same time I might just buy some wood and go ham with a router once I get the plates cut.

Computers Slot: I got WeeChat set up properly on my desktop, which technically was just a matter of getting my SSH keys moved over. It’s taking me forever to move in to Cinnabar, in part because Stibnite lost her boot partition and I haven’t bothered to fix it.

So here’s a pitch for WeeChat as a good quality Terminal UI IRC Client. Many of my closest friends live there and it has a good set of tools to help me keep in touch.

WeeChat is very configurable but with perfectly sane defaults, I didn’t configure it for years. The UI is smarter and less arcane than something like irssi, and if you enable mouse support it can be downright modern. Running it remotely like this limits some features but as long as you don’t mind jumping through a few hoops to do filesharing, IRC is really great like this.

One of the big ones is the ability to do that double-pane thing, I can keep an eye on two channels at once (really as many as I can cram on my screen, but usually two) which is great when you want to browse channels while talking in your home channel.

It also has a good array of remote access tools, from what I’m running up there, just weechat running on my server inside tmux connected over mosh for low-latency SSH, to weechat-relay, a relay protocol built in to weechat. At the moment relay only supports android phones and the glowingbear web client, but I’ve never really looked around since both of those cover all my needs. Easily one of the best ways to get IRC on a modern mobile device, barring maybe IRCCloud.

[liskantope]

Hopefully this will be my last-ever post complaining about what someone said on social media, because current events are simmering down and once they’ve reached a moderate enough hum I’m going to redouble my previous efforts to stay away from it. But the particular interaction I’m going to describe seems to have furthered my progress slightly in understanding why so many people shout their views in the way that they do and how I should learn to better accept it.

One of my “closest” Facebook friends for over a decade, whose life’s passion nowadays revolves around anti-racist work (mainly in childhood education; she is white) posted a few hours after Biden’s victory was officially called last Saturday to preach that white Biden-voters shouldn’t claim any of the credit for his victory because it was BIPOC and particularly black women who carried this election (her justification for why they “carried us” was that as a demographic group most of them voted for Biden while as a demographic group a majority of white people voted for Trump), and that nothing will be better now except for who is in the White House because “whiteness and white supremacy have not disappeared” and that “your” responsibility is not diminished and “you” are not absolved as a good white person. She ended with an exhortation to bow down and “bend your knees” to BIPOC for “saving our asses”.

(Just realized looking back at her post to write this one that the phrasing was not “bend the knee” as I repeatedly misread at the time, assuming that it was a direct reference to Game of Thrones of which I know she’s a fan, and having recently listened to this insightful 8-minute Sam Harris podcast episode which used the phrase. This is slightly unfortunate since it was the obnoxiousness of that particular phrasing which tipped me over to acting against my better judgment in not just ignoring this like I have with so many dozens of other statements. I still find it obnoxious, though, and sanctimonious, and terrible messaging, and using poor arguments about causation, and reflecting an insistence on viewing as much as possible in terms of race at all times, and the epitome of identity politics.)

So yeah, after waiting a couple of days, I broke my usual silence and wrote a very polite but argumentative response that turned out to be enough paragraphs to make me feel a little embarrassed that I would take that much of my time on it. I knew there was virtually no chance of convincing her of anything substantial, but I figured just maybe some insight into how foreign and alienating this “you are responsible for what everyone of your color does and are never good enough and have to kneel in deference to those of a color which is” messaging is bound to be to anyone who’s less in an academic bubble than we are (which is, like, most people). I made the point that individual BIPOC didn’t contribute any more than individual white people did to Biden’s victory and that if we’re going to judge blocs of voters according to race we should be blaming Cuban-Americans for Biden’s loss in Florida, and that in fact Trump gained votes from among BIPOC and lost white male votes since four years ago. I wrote that implying that the only salient feature of us individuals is race is exactly what people complain about when they use the term “identity politics” and that the results of this election suggest that maybe we’re doing something wrong with our messaging.

It wasn’t a disaster. I got a very cordial response which completely avoided ad hominem and at least engaged the points I had made while clarifying her views. I didn’t find the supposed rebuttals of my points at all convincing, of course. For instance, my complaint about treating individual voters as merely people of a certain color was met with “It’s important in anti-racist scholarship to be able to analyze demographic trends in terms of race” (I would... never disagree with this?) and that focusing on individuals allows people to only look at their own actions and those of their friends and feel too good about themselves. She also expressed skepticism about my statistics about where Trump gained/lost support, which I was able to back up with a quick Google search which pulled up a Vox article among others (I thought it was only the insufficiently committed white liberals like me who sucked at Googling?). But her own views, while still resting on axioms I fundamentally differ on, just sounded a lot more reasonable when restated? E.g. “Moments like this shouldn’t be centered on whiteness” and “the ‘good white liberals’ should be aware that they aren’t as a big of a demographic in our race as they should be” (I don’t know any white liberal who would disagree or who doesn’t realize that white people vote majority Republican or is okay with that?) and that the bowing and bending the knee was not “a literal statement” but simply meant to convey that we should greatly respect how BIPOC voters contribute. She ended with providing a long list of anti-racist activists (the only one of whom I’m familiar with is Ally Henny, who I mainly remember for statements about how I’m encased in so many layers of racism that I would never be able to peel them off if I spent my whole lifetime doing nothing but trying) as a “starting point” of study.

I replied thanking her for pointing me to sources and agreeing with her implication that I should read more with a mind towards understanding what they’re saying before spouting off any more opinions. (Guess I have to make good on that promise now.) I made clear that I see a difference between her restatements and the way she worded things in her original post and suggested that some of this might even be on me for interpreting these kinds of posts more as logical arguments when they should be understood in a slightly more poetic manner. I gently gestured towards my suspicion that the current scholarship in this area might reflect a university culture (which I am very much a part of) more than the concrete priorities and concerns of the majority of people of color, although I’m in no position to positively claim anything about this. I got no response.

Anyway, in writing my last response, a little more clicked into place for me about a different lens through which I should process all the behavior that drives me nuts in a written context online (I mainly mean social media but am being even broader than that). This is going to sound condescending but ironically it might help me to have a less condescending attitude?

The fact is -- and I just have to accept this -- that making efforts to be nuanced and to “meet people who disagree where they are at” and to aim for the truth but no farther than the truth are simply not highly-valued principles for most people (social media -users and otherwise). They may kinda-sorta agree in the abstract with these principles, but in practice they hold a much lower status than the principles of conveying anger and strong words as a sign of commitment towards Fighting Evil. Some people I know do have an “argumentation value system” closer to mine, and I know who those people are -- it really shows in what they write online. But those people are a fairly small minority.

And this alien “argumentation value system” isn’t something that really shows in casual real-life interactions very plainly at all (which of course is what almost all human interactions were up until 10-15 years ago), while in contrast social media is an environment that augments its effect.

The sooner I accept this, the more moderation I’ll be able to manage in my negative reactions. I can remind myself that there’s less fundamental disagreement on most actual issues between me and the people I know: we instead disagree on a sort of meta-level issue of how one’s views should be presented. And that issue, taken by itself, seems somehow like something more minor. I wrote a few months ago about how knowing what so many people in my life write publicly oftentimes interferes with my capacity to view them as potential intimate friends/partners. Maybe I can be a little more accepting when I recognize that the things they write which turn me off perhaps don’t come from a place of such irrationality as I thought, that the differences in our ways of thinking might not be quite so fundamental (although this differing system of values for argumentation still strikes me as something that could badly affect a marriage, say). And in the practical short term, I can ignore things that bother me more easily in the future -- instead of feeling like I’m on a tilted playing field where everyone else gets to vent without inhibition while I have to carefully monitor and qualify everything I say, I can try to just round a lot of this off in terms of different preferred writing styles and somehow that bothers me less?

A similar underlying principle holds for the things that annoy me on dating profiles, what with the collective obsession with dogs and boasts of being “fluent in sarcasm” and so on. This probably doesn’t reflect much about the way the creators of these profiles actually are as humans in real life. Not that many single women really view their dogs as the most interesting thing that ever was or will be about their lives. They just choose to have a certain style of exposition about themselves because of peculiarities of the environment of online dating sites/apps, where showing enthusiasm and individuality in some way seems to pay and the topic of dogs would seem like a pretty safe place to direct this performed enthusiasm. Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t demonstrate some aspect of incompatibility with me or that I’m not going to be more instantly attracted to those with profiles that have more refreshing things to say than stuff about how amazing dogs are or of those who *gasp* actually prefer cats or *deeper gasp* prefer not to have pets at all. But it means that I can read the dogs-and-sarcasm-enthusiast profiles a little more charitably maybe?

This slightly altered mindset is a far from perfect solution, but I think it helps. A lasting three-quarters-of-the-way disconnect from social media entirely still needs to be a goal at this point.

[expshared]

this season was kind of whack, but at least we had Eizouken

Heya Camp is just kind of a lazy reminder that Yuru Camp exists, and will continue to exist in the future. You remember these characters?? OK good, just making sure. That said, did I immediately feel the tension release in my entire body when I heard the OST? Duh. Did I sing “it’s coffee time” to the ending not knowing these were the incorrect lyrics? The entire time.

I don’t know what to do with Isekai Quartet because like, objectively, I should hate it. I do not enjoy like 2.5 of the shows involved, and the addition of Shield Hero was not a welcome one. Turns out it doesn’t matter anyway because it was just Isekai Quartet and also Naofumi is Sometimes Scowling in the Background and that’s about as much of him as I want to see anyway. And yet? I do enjoy this Disney Channel Original Crossover. There’s something inherently fun about watching these characters from disparate shows interact with each other, and no matter what the original stakes were in their respective series, they’re all just doing homework and getting part time jobs and that shit’s funny when a big skeleton man is doing it.

After its first episode, Asteroid in Love was kind of a slog. This is your typical seasonal CGDGT show, and apart from that, I really can’t think of anything to say about it. I didn’t learn anything about the Extremely Niche Topic these girls are doing, and it wasn’t even that gay. Disappointing. 

I was really looking forward to Toilet Bound Hanako-kun because I am a big fan of the source material, but I was pretty let down by this adaptation. It seems that they prioritized the art style and the color scheme above everything else, but that essentially just meant the entire project ended up being colored manga panels. I wanted to see them move around! There was not a single moment of animation that justified it being an anime. You might as well have been watching a PowerPoint. I can’t think of anything nice to say. Let’s move on. 

Bofuri is my power fantasy. I want to play a video game so cluelessly I break it into tiny pieces and bumble into being the most powerful player in the world’s nicest MMORPG. Maple turns powercreep into powersprint. What Bofuri lacks in character development or plot, it makes up for in outrageous Maple feats. She holds the entire world in the palm of her hand and she doesn’t even know it. She named her OP pet turtle Syrup and then turned into an alien abomination unknown to the world and went on a killing rampage. This anime was Maple Crossing Online. Love you, Maple. Wreck shit, Maple. 

If My Favorite Idol Got Into Budokan, I Would Die walks a thin line and what separates it from being a slobbering idol otaku engine preaching how Cool it is to Be an Otaku and an Idol Show Watamote is the fact that Eripiyo is a girl. That’s it. If you took her and replaced her with your average Joe Schmoe-san, this show would be insufferably creepy. Every time I was waiting for it to topple over, Jenga-like, it managed to right itself and straddle the tightrope. It’s not a particularly subtle piece of media, nor does it do what I was hoping it would do and engage in any sort of conversation about the obsessive nature of idol otakudom, but you know what it does a good job of doing? Portraying being an idol as a job. Just some adults putting on underground shows and selling the same CD of like two songs over and over again. I was also hoping it would address what happened to Eripiyo, maybe talk about why at the beginning she’s dressed like an office worker and apparently gives that all up to follow this kinda-shitty idol group, why this fanatic escapism is preferable, or even maybe address how gay it is? Not in the cards, though. Honestly Budokan was, despite itself, pretty enjoyable? There are some great background lesbians. Also can we talk about how consistently good the production values were on this show? Why did this have such great dance sequences? Why did this look better than Love “Has More Money Than God” Live? Actually no I take everything back this show was kind of just Idol Otaku Watamote

Hey, let’s talk about the other idol show airing this season: the completely unhinged 22/7. This show is Whack. This show operates on an entire different plane of reality. I know nothing about the actual band, so I came into this blind and oh my god. Hey guys, the plot of 22/7 is that a Wall tells some girls to form an idol unit.  A sentient Wall whose orders absolutely must be followed. Why? Dunno! What happens if you don’t follow its orders? Never elaborated on. (Actually, is this a reference to Pink Floyd? I have no fucking clue.) In any case these eight girls, summoned by a letter from the Wall, are all invited to become an idol group, and then they’re magically an idol group. It’s unclear how they become successful, how they book gigs, who’s keeping the lights on at the agency, how they’re getting paid, who HR is, how their gorilla man agent found this Wall and determined that all its directives Must Be Followed, but shit, man. What follows in 22/7 is a one-member-per-episode serial that quite frankly stumbles far more often than it succeeds. One girl’s grandma died and that’s why she came to Japan. One girl had a traumatizing experience where she got lost in the woods for a week and it broke her family apart and now things just suck forever. These things are equal. One poor girl’s entire episode was about how she didn’t want to put on a bathing suit for a photo shoot and how uncomfortable she felt about it, but in the end she was made to apologize for dragging her feet for so long and takes her photo for a pin up. Yuck. Gross. Bad. The only valid girl is Jun, end of discussion. None of this even holds a candle to the finale-- wherein the girls are directed by the Wall to disband, and, defying an order for the first time, the girls return to their agency and throw shit at the Wall until it breaks down. It’s revealed that the Wall isn’t supernatural-- behind it are tv monitors, photos of the girls as children, records of their activities. A person or people are behind this. Why??? Are they being groomed?? Is the Wall a metaphor for the Industry? I’m so concerned. The girls aren’t, though, because after a little side eyeing, they ascend a staircase and wow! A Stage! Our fans are all here for our reunion tour! And then they’re fine and I guess their idol group is back together or something? Did I mention the stage where they perform? It’s at a zoo. I can’t tell if this is the most scathing condemnation of idol culture I’ve ever watched or just completely oblivious. The characters don’t engage in any sort of thought about what they’re being put through, but they are performing their final song, the lyrics of which are about how life is just too hard to keep on living, at a zoo and I don’t think you can have that sort of thing happen unless you’re trying to make a point. Right??? RIGHT?!? Dance and sing, monkeys.

Smile Down the Runway was another show completely divorced from reality. So you got your main character, Chiyuki, whose thing is that she’s Too Short to Be a Model at her father’s very prestigious modeling agency. Which, like, is valid! Let’s see some variation in the modeling industry. Let’s shake it up. Let’s lead the charge for alternative models with bodies outside of the very narrow requirements of the fashion industry. What’s that, Chiyuki? You have no interest in that? You want to be a Hypermodel? I don’t know what that shit is, I think you made it up. Our other protagonist is Ikuto, the destitute, put upon, bobcut boy with a dying mother and 3 younger siblings who is trying to pursue his dream of becoming a fashion designer. Are you beginning to sense the problem here? There is a fundamental imbalance in the presentation of these characters’ goals and situations. Also? Emotions are at an eleven, always. Characters are always acting as if they’ve just seen someone get murdered in front of their eyes even when it’s like. There’s a messed up seam. They are constantly being mortified, crushed, and having their dreams ripped away. One time, two different assholes offered Ikuto magical mom-fixing blood money when he was struggling to come up with funds to pay off his medical debt at the cost of giving up his spot in the fashion show. Wildin’ 

Haikyuu didn’t exactly come in like a lion, but I’m sure it’ll be more organic upon rewatching. We were laying the groundwork for much of this season so I’m expecting it to payoff later, but the beginning definitely lagged. Every time Haikyuu hints at a women’s volleyball tournament, I want a volleyball anime with girls. Man, those ten minutes we got with Kiyoko? Those were great. 

I don’t have too much to say about Somali and Forest Spirit. Abe’s “Make Children” agenda feels at least a little more like a narrative choice in this anime, and I enjoyed Somali and the Golem’s relationship and their travels were in equal turns harrowing and heartwarming. And I did tear up at the end so you got me there, anime. 

In/Spectre has some balls being an anime. It’s existed as a light novel and a manga and those are both superior mediums for it because let’s put all our cards on the table here-- In/Spectre is a show about talking. Five whole entire episodes take place in a car. The finale is winning an argument in an anonymous 4chan chatroom. That said, I have such a fondness for In/Spectre. I think Kotoko rocks. I think a show willing to do nothing but talk at you for two hours is badass. Sitting through this anime is like watching a podcast. I think the show engages in some great dialogue about human nature and how we prefer stories that are theatrical, narratively-driven, and have a logical cause-and-effect, instead of the truth, which is more often than not grim, and disappointing, and illogical. I like that Kotoko’s only function, in-story and out of it, is to bullshit so hard she invents alternate realities. Anyway In/Spectre is good. 

There’s no praise I can lavish on Eizouken that hasn’t already been said. It’s powerful, it’s strange, it’s energetic, and it’s packaged with such love. It’s repurposed the CGDCT template into something deeply affecting. It’s an anime for people who love animation.  I hope everyone watches Eizouken.

[jeanvaljean24601]

Assassin's Creed Valhalla Hands-On Preview

I guide my longship along the waterways of East Anglia, one of the regions of Assassin’s Creed Valhalla’s Anglo-Saxon map. Ahead is the shoreline of Beodericsworth, which will soon be the stage for one of this Viking-themed entry’s flagship features; raiding. With the blow of a horn, my crew begin bailing out, charging up the sands and crashing into the shields of the village’s unprepared guards. Wood splinters, blood gushes, and heads drop from shoulders. It’s exactly the kind of skirmish you’d expect from a Norseman raid. Inside, we hack apart the guard leaders defending the village’s treasures and take it for ourselves. Amongst our findings are two caskets so large it takes multiple vikings to get them open, filled with raw crafting materials. It’s a bounty that will, at the very least, get a knowing nod from Odin, if not a smile.Raiding in Assassin’s Creed Valhalla feels smaller scale than I expected, but is nonetheless good fun, and a vital part of fulfilling the Viking fantasy at the heart of the game. It’s also not the only way to pillage a Saxon settlement. The first time I approached a raiding target in a recent three-hour hands-on with Valhalla, I actually bailed out of the longship on my own, snuck around the back, and crept from guard to guard, taking them out silently. Stealthing the entire camp was overly easy due to the enemies standing perfectly still at their posts - something I hope will be upgraded with patrol paths by the time of full release - but some satisfaction remained thanks to the fact that Assassin’s Creed’s iconic hidden blade has been restored to full power once again, killing instantly with a generous splash of crimson. Preorder Assassin's Creed Valhalla Post-raiding party, I take protagonist Eivor to meet up with fellow clansman Finnr, who sets us on a course to assault Burgh Castle in Northwich, where we’ll face a rival clan. This transitions into what is effectively the boss fight version of raiding; Valhalla’s siege assaults. This one begins with a Viking variant of D-Day, with landing craft exchanged for longships and machine gun fire swapped out for volleys of flaming arrows. As the boats hit the shore and the first set of walls are blown apart, I become tangled up in the first phase of the main assault. It’s here where Valhalla’s combat really shines, despite the rough edges of the work-in-progress build. It’s an iterative upgrade of the system first introduced in Assassin’s Creed Origins, but one with enough Norse-flavoured garnish that it feels just right. Active abilities return, including one that has Eivor hurl half a dozen throwing axes into a collection of nearby enemies, and another that’s basically a charge-and-tackle manovre that lasts for as long as there’s still yards left to sprint. Such abilities can only be triggered by spending adrenaline, which is built through performing standard attacks and parries. But the moments between those super-powered blows are no less entertaining. Enemies have a stun meter, which when worn down allows you to follow up with finishers such as beating them over the head with their own shield, or swinging your axe up through their chin. Foes knocked to the floor can be leapt and stomped on as if they were a bed at a child’s slumber party. And if they refuse to fall over, they can be gleefully booted across the battlefield with the Kick of Tyr; essentially Odyssey’s Spartan Kick in all but name. In moments like these, the spirit of the berserker really starts to shine through. With the first courtyard clear of enemies, I’m able to use a battering ram to break down a timber perimeter fence and progress up to the gate. There are three phases in the assault (frustratingly without checkpointing in this preview build, meaning a full restart on death) with each introducing a new wrinkle of complexity. At the next gate, contained within a stone archway, archers fire arrows from wall-mounted ballistas and pour gallons of burning oil over the ramming crew. On the other side in the final courtyard, the castle’s hardiest occupants do their best to scupper your assault.By this point, I’m feeling fairly exhausted (I’m on my third attempt) and Eivor is feeling the burn. There’s no regenerating health in Valhalla, nor an HP boosting ability like Odyssey’s Second Wind. Instead, you have rations; effectively health potions made up of food gathered from the open world. While the grounds of the castle have a few mushrooms to nibble on, by the last phase of the assault I’ve picked both the land and my pockets dry of food, and have sustained a dent to my HP meter. In other words, I’m not well equipped for the boss battle the game then throws me into. Rued is a rival Viking armed with a longsword he can set ablaze, and is accompanied by a pet wolf. Like with many of Assassin’s Creed Odyssey’s boss fights, it’s in this battle where you can detect some potential Soulsborne influences. Eivor has a stamina meter, depleted by dealing heavy melee damage, dodging, and absorbing enemy strikes with your shield. While light attacks may come for free, in a tight boss fight arena populated by a walking mountain and a ravenous wolf, it means stamina is constantly in need of attention. The wolf is able to grab hold of my shield in its maw, opening me up to heavy cleaves from Rued while I try to wrestle my arm free. A few well-placed strikes and some throwing axes knock the wolf out of the fight, leaving just Rued and I to dance it out atop the castle wall. As the fight progresses Rued begins to throw his weapons at me, but the combination of his attack patterns and the gap between us means there isn’t enough time for me to pull out my bow and strike back at range. With the screen fading to black as my health drops to critical levels, I’m just able to dodge a blow and generate enough adrenaline to perform Dive of the Valkyries; a leap that brings both my axe and shield down on Rued in a bone-crunching slam. He’s done for. Before I can bury the hatchet in his skull, though, my hand is stayed by Oswald, an Englishman ally who we’ve saved from Rued’s clutches. He preaches of fair trials before God, and I’m offered the choice to kill or spare my enemy. h96 max tv boxI do the sensible thing and slice open Rued’s neck with an axe, much to Oswald’s distaste.A bug in the demo - something not uncommon in pre-release builds - means I have to reset the game. I continue from where I left off, but am told that in this save game Eivor has abided by Oswald’s request and spared Rued. Fair enough, I think, that’ll keep him happy for his wedding, which is Valhalla’s next quest. Very much following in Odyssey’s footsteps, Valhalla - at least in this showing - has a well-judged balance between light and dark. h96 max x3After a gloomy castle siege I’m treated to a wedding filled with fun conversations and mini-games. I’m challenged to shoot a field full of targets after downing a flagon of ale, and take part in a drinking competition in which I need to neck no less than three horns of beer and not fall over in the process. It’s a delightful time to celebrate Oswald uniting with our clan as he marries Norsewoman Valdis. At least, it is until Rued crashes the party. It appears that Valhalla has ambitions to take the RPG side Assassin’s Creed up a notch; this moment feels like the kind of narrative consequence akin to what we’d see in games like Dragon Age. Because Rued had been spared, he turns up at the wedding looking for vengeance (had he died, I’m informed I’d instead be enjoying a race around the town). But rather than my blood, it’s Oswald’s he’s here to claim. At this point I’m offered another choice; I can let Oswald fight, or I can be his champion and kill Rued on his behalf. I take the latter option, and while I cut down Rued for good this time, Oswald seems slightly disappointed in me taking his place. I wonder if, in later hours, this will have a negative effect on our relationship. I also wonder if this is not just a one off event, but a promise that Valhalla is filled with these kinds of choices and repercussions. Along with narrative choices, Valhalla also iterates on the RPG stats systems its predecessors added to the Assassin’s Creed mix. Alongside the familiar active abilities is a constellation-style map of skill upgrades that provides a variety of passive upgrades. Some improve your basic stats - higher damage, increased health - while others unlock new combat moves such as stun attacks and finishers; those additional attacks that make the combat that extra bit more flavourful. Together, all of your upgrades increase your Global Power rating, a numerical indicator as to how powerful you are that replaces standard levelling. h96 max x3Alongside the introduction of further RPG mechanics, Valhalla’s world is also significantly more traditional of the genre, too; when galloping around it on my horse, or sailing down rivers on my longboat, it was easy to mistake England for The Witcher 3’s Velen. This means, visually, Valhalla is less striking than Odyssey or Origins, with its practically Tolkien colour palette feeling less fresh than the sands of Egypt or mediteranean greenery of Greece. Yet, perhaps because I’m English, I can’t help but get a thrill out of exploring just-about-recognisable versions of my own homeland.h96 max x3It should also be noted that Valhalla embraces British folklore perhaps more than it does Norse Mythology; as I explored this small chunk of the world I came across Black Shuck, a huge black dog that’s part of classic East Anglian folklore, as well as two members of the Daughters of Lerion; Gaelic women dressed in skulls with a fondness for sacrificial rituals and the supernatural. As with Odyssey, exploring uncovers optional bosses and other fun activities, although this time it’s all a lot more goth. Assassin’s Creed Valhalla looks to be, as is the tradition of the series, an iterative update on its predecessors. If the new approach to RPG design and gear-based progression has put you off the series, this slice of the game indicates that you’ll likely be unconvinced by Valhalla’s barely altered direction. But the few changes it makes to those systems suggests developer Ubisoft Montreal may have a newfound confidence in its RPG abilities, and a willingness to embrace more of the genre’s toolset. If its branching story points are frequent occurrences, it may be that Valhalla’s real innovation comes from player agency in the narrative, rather than any mechanical revisions. Provided the game delivers on that promise, my only genuine concern is that the return of the lethal hidden blade hasn’t resulted in instantly satisfying stealth. h96 max tv boxIt currently feels underbaked due to those stationary guards, and so needs some extra challenge to make it a worthwhile alternative to the entertainingly barbaric combat encounters. Fix that, and Assassin’s Creed Valhalla might well be able to both reclaim its lineage and further its admirable RPG ambitions.Matt Purslow is IGN's UK News and Entertainment Writer.

[legobiwan]

Gotta to ask, do have any TV show, book o fanfiction reviews (especially Losing So Much and Undead Chosen One AU, love those fics) for these pressing times?

So for fanfics, I made a rec post a few days ago that might be instructive. Also, if you search my blog for #fic rec or #fic recs, anything not in that post will show up. As I’ve said, I’ve been a little out of the fanfiction consumption side of things the past few months, which is why I have reached out for suggestions. 

TV! Okay, so a rundown of shows I have enjoyed that are non-Star Wars. 

Psych (hilarious and at times poignant. The whole cast is fantastic, but James Roday especially is a damn good actor and shines in the few-and-far-between serious moments on the show. Plus, I am a complete sap for stories focusing on the relationship between parents and their adult children.) 

Russian Doll (captivating story and an easy binge. Think Groundhog day, but with more drugs and cats and based in New York.)

Santa Clarita Diet (season 3 lags a little, but it’s a great twist on the whole zombie thing and Sheila and Joe’s relationship is actually really fun to watch. Lotta gore, though.)

Slings and Arrows (Canadian show featuring Paul Gross as an eccentric theater director in a faux-Stratford Shakespeare Festival organization. Each season features a different play as the backdrop of the show, and if you’ve ever worked for an arts non-profit as a performer or admin or both, you will definitely appreciate how they portray the ever-present war between both sides and the eternal struggles of art vs. business. Plus, it’s just damn funny and you know, Shakespeare.)

Due South (speaking of Paul Gross. This is an oldie, but a goodie, 1990s-style buddy-cop/fish-out-of-water show that is both funny and heartfelt. I grew up on it and it holds a special place in my heart.)

Bojack Horseman (holy shit, this show. What started out as a zany portrayal of entertainment life in LA turned into one of the most piercing social commentaries on gender issues, death, addiction, mental health, sexuality, and inherited trauma. It gets dark in the later seasons, and the next-to-last episode of the whole series is one of the most haunting existential things I have ever watched on television. But it is fucking brilliant and funny and really holds no punches. Plus, if you are familiar with LA at all, the little references are especially hilarious.)

Umbrella Academy (I’m probably preaching to the choir here, but this is a great show if you haven’t checked it out yet.)

Agents of SHIELD (If you’re not in the Marvel fandom, I don’t know how much you’ll dig this, but I personally enjoyed a lot of it, especially Phil Coulson. The first few seasons are a little campy, but it gets darker later on with the digital reality arc and I really found myself enjoying it. Also, this was the first show I treadmill-binged, so it has a place in my heart for helping me to totally reimagine my gym routine.)

Dead Like Me (so someone recommended Dead to Me, and because I’m Very Smart, I ended up starting the wrong show. But this has been an intriguing watch, a very different take on life-after-death which is quite raw at times, but always interesting, especially as it kills off the 18-year-old protagonist at the start. Season 2 isn’t quite matching up to Season 1, but I’ll finish it off sometime in the next week or so.)

Farscape (this is quality Scifi television. Weird, amazing characters, amazing arcs, amazing aliens - definitely an underrated show of its genre)

Daria (ah, this one. There are a lot of reasons this show is personally hilarious to me, but let’s just say that it’s a full-on 90s disaffection cartoon that is smart with a highly relatable protagonist.)

Metalocalypse (this show is 100% over-the-top weird and I am here for it. Plus, Mark Hammill is a VA in it!)

Broadchurch (David Tennant in his glorious natural accent in a British detective series. Season 1 is amazing, emotionally raw and captivating television. I had a hard time trying to get through Season 2 and actually haven’t finished. But the first season is definitely worth it.)

Frasier (ah, a classic. The later seasons after “the event” aren’t as good but Seasons 1-5 are excellent and the humor is out of this world. Great show and one that stands up to multiple viewings.)

There are other shows I enjoy, like Brooklyn99 and 30Rock that I assume are more well-known on this site, and thus I haven’t included them on this list. I’m also not including the shows I watched that were fine, but I didn’t feel enthusiastic about (Witcher, Jessica Jones are the first two that come to mind). I’m also sure I’m forgetting something or somethings. 

Books! I read too many books. I have no idea how to rec books except in terms of things I’ve read recently (at least, books that aren’t specialized music-academic offerings). Olga Tokarczuk’s writing is fabulous, I highly recommend any of her works. Going older, I read Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man a few months back and that was superb. Another book I read a while back that stuck with me was Tom Wolfe’s Bonfire of the Vanities. Olivia Laing’s The Lonely City also sticks out as a recent favorite. Neil Gaiman’s American Gods is also great, and to be honest (here comes some heresy), it’s a better book than Good Omens. Since I move a lot, I tend to read books and then give them away, but beyond my Shakespeare, Tintin, and Harry Potter collection, one of the few books that I always carry with me is David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas, which is a singularly haunting and fascinating novel and I am transfixed every time.

In terms of Star Wars books? That’s pretty easy. Kenobi, Dark Rendezvous, Plagueis, Master and Apprentice, and - pending the conclusion - Thrawn. Shatterpoint was also excellent. There are other SW books I’ve enjoyed, but these have been the easy standouts of the lot.

[nickpaterson]

How my religion taught me to hate

I grew up in a religious family, with Anglican roots.  My mother joined a small growing church group, which developed into one of the largest Baptist churches on Vancouver Island.  We were part of this same church family from the time I was 4 years old. Now in my 40s, my mother still attends the same group.   I am proud that our family was part of and still is part of this growing group that dopes a lot of good and outreach locally in her community.  I value relationships and advice from many members of this congregation.

               During the troubles of my teenage years, members of this group reach out to me to provide guidance when I was lost, to be supportive when I needed it, and to give advice.  One of the most influential people from this church weas my pastor, Mark Buchanan.  He was a little man who more often was in board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with sandals, instead of a stuffy suit.  I loved watching him break the norms, and make people uncomfortable, to make them think about why they felt this way.  He would walk quietly to the stage, and this big booking voice would get your attention.  He put feeling into his speech, and he challenged traditional ideas, kept you rapt to everything he said, made us laugh and cry, and made sure we understood why we did things.  Mark also wrote a book called “Your God is too safe”.  I still have my autographed copy of the book as well as a spare handed down from my mom.  Admittedly, I never read the whole thing, but the title alone caught my attention, and made me want to research more and break the norms to make sure what I thought was right, instead of just safe and familiar.  

               My mother always gave me ideas to make me think. She told me from a young age to make sure I knew what I believed, and to know why, and that she would support me in those choices as long as I could support my argument with logic and faith. She may not have exercised this as much as she would like, making sure I went to church without fail, even when I didn’t want to, and being less than willing to explore alternate churches.  But the idea and the sentiment were there, and they stuck with me throughout my life.

               On my own as an adult, I spent a lot of time talking to people of different faiths, and asking questions about how, why, what for, history of, and more.  I learned a lot about different denominations and faiths, alternate religions, alternate deities, wicca and witchcraft, natural beliefs and more.  Some were fascinating ideas, some were fantasy style stories that kept the attention but not the faith, and some made me incredibly uncomfortable to the point I avoided them in further research.  But nothing fit. So, I stuck to what was safe and familiar, not knowing how or why to believe anything else.  

               In all my research over the years, some ideas stuck and made it into my daily practice, because they meshed with what I read in my bible, and my interpretation of Jesus love and teachings, even if I didn’t see them in practice elsewhere.  Because I spent so much time talking to people of different backgrounds, I had a lot of friends who didn’t believe in the same things I did. My biggest takeaway from all of this was acceptance.  They didn’t believe in my god, or read my bible, but they answered my questions, and taught me, without judging even if I didn’t accept what they taught.  We debated respectfully back and forth and taught each other whatever we could.  Nobody was judged, or ostracised, or ridiculed for those beliefs.  We made for a pretty hodgepodge group.  

I had Jehovas Witnesses try to convert me.  I had coffee and visited with Mormons.  I head my cards and stars and palms read by Wiccans.  I attended Buddhist weddings in a haunted church at the stroke of midnight on Halloween.  I went to church with United, nondenominational, Anglican and more services.  I saw people speak in tongues, and believe they were performing healing prayers.  I even attended a country revival by a river and marched in an anti abortion silent protest.  I spent countless hours debating, and researching to reinforce my debates when I got stuck, and learning different viewpoints.  

               But I accepted everyone regardless of background. I asked questions that may have been ignorant from simply not knowing. I interrupted classes and speeches and took notes.  I stayed open to new ideas, and only asked from others what I would be willing to do myself, such as attending each others services to learn from a different viewpoint. The biggest lesson I ever learned in life was that nobody was lesser because they believed something different, or practiced on a different day, or used a different word for God.  I wasn’t better than them, or right or wrong.  I condemned no one that I could learn from, and hoped that I could teach them some of the same.

               I learned many things I don’t want to be a part of. I learned how I didn’t want to be treated or spoken to.  I learned what people could blame on their religion, and how awful you could be made to feel in the name of the Holy.  I saw some awful bigotry and hate, both in and out of churches. I made decisions that would shape who I have become.  I also learned that no matter who they prayed to or when, or how, the crazy truth of it is:  Almost everybody preached the same thing with a few small differences, while they condemned everyone else who disagreed.

               I even saw this within my own family.  For example, one of my nephews has recently chosen to express himself as transgender.  So he becomes She.  My sister, his mother, chose to support this in the best possible way.  I asked questions like “What name do I use and when” and tried to express the parts I didn’t understand, and learn the rest.  I let this child teach me whats he needed and I have tried to support her as best as possible.  My children followed my example and made me proud.  Come Christmas a couple years later, and our religious mother is visiting from the west, and expressing her opinions.  She wanted to take my sisters child to a counsellor to get fixed, behind my sisters back, and hoped that I would help.  I said no unconditionally. I found out that my older sister had heard our mother venting about this issues, and ripped into her with her opinion that Mom should stay the hell out of it.  I do love that our family is at a stage in life where we can be blunt and rational as we discussed this, since a couple days before Christmas we were throwing around religious and opinion thoughts on the subject.  I got to look at my mother and say “to be honest, your opinion doesn’t fucking matter, since it’s not your child to raise”. My mom looked shocked and started to be offended, but then realised it was not calling her out or insulting her, and that it was correct.  Then I also got to point out to her that at the very least, she should be proud that she raised three children as a single mother, who could all grow into such loving and accepting people that none of us judged or condemned anyone regardless of their way of life or choices.  This is again a very abridged version of this whole conversation, but you get the general idea.  

               One of the biggest wakeup moments that came in my life regarding religion and peoples attitudes towards it came from a church I attended for a while.  After over a year of getting to know people and following their teachings, it came that I would be moving to another city.  I mentioned to a few nice older folks what city I would be going to, and received a few recommendations on a church to look out for.  One particular gentleman, who always went out of his way to speak to myself and my children, and who I believe was an Elder at the church to be respected, gave me this recommendation.  I paraphrase: “You should check out Church A.  They have this and this and would love a new family with plenty of kids. And you wouldn’t have to worry about any of those fags and weird shit.”

               I knew right then that I would never check out his recommendation, and that I would never return to this church.  I have spent time since then really listening extra close to sermons and messages put out by other churches and church leaders, and looking for the nuances and lessons they teach to their youth.  Everything is put forth as support “You can make your choices within your faith”, Pro life, we will support you when you choose Gods way, and so very many more.  Look up newsletters and ads from your local churches and you will see all of these and more in many different wordings.

               Look a layer deeper.  Listen to what these messages say.  “we will support you in gods path, but believe different and you are alone”. “you are evil for choosing different”.  You will go to hell for eternity. Our way is the only way and everybody else is wrong.  Its very thinly veiled, but every church I’ve been to is secretly teaching me to hate those that are different and hoping that I don’t notice.  

               Hate gay people because they don’t follow the bible. Hate abortionists for not supporting this fetus regardless of health or history or any other option.  Our way is the ONLY way.  You cannot be different.  You cannot think your own way.  We can’t prove it except through vague scripture and ask for blind faith because we said so.  You are evil if you disagree.  Don’t look different or act different.  Judge others and condemn them for having an opinion. See a theme here? You can see this in all those local church and religious flyers too.  Just go have a look, I’ll wait here.

                 Here’s what I learned in Sunday school as I see it. Choose to follow and consider my opinion, or don’t.  Your call!

               -The Old testament is a history lesson.  Here is what God wants you to do and why.  Here is what is good and bad, and here is the struggle we went through to get here.  Exactly the same as our kids learning about war and holocaust and local history in school.  Learn the lessons because people already went through them and get the theory behind the fact.

               -The New testament changed everything.  We no longer had to sacrifice because Jesus did it for us. Unclean foods didn’t matter because we were purified in faith. Sinful acts could be forgiven if we asked for it.  Love everybody as you wish to be loved.  Look at the Good Samaritan, he helped a neighbour he should have hated because that’s what he was taught, but he chose to be a good person anyways, regardless of who was on the receiving end.  Jesus spent time with beggars, and the terminally sick, prostitutes, and men who had no other ambition in life.  He loved them all the same and he gave them the same message, regardless of their background, or choices, or personal opinions.  He didn’t ever treat one person as lesser than the next.

               The church teaches us to HATE sinfulness in their interpretation, and to shun those who are different or to try and change them to our own way of thinking.  I don’t care what church you go to, it will teach the same.  Look at these similarities between religions..  Catholicism, Christians of various denominations, jewish, jehovas witness, Mormon, 7th day Adventists, Islamic, Buddhist, even Native cultures.  On a base level, the stories handed down through history are very similar, slightly changed through translation and retelling over time.  The morals of the stories are the same.  Every different denomination of Christianity has the same base teachings and the same roots.  They simply split off because one group within that religion disagreed on a base idea, split off, and taught in their own way.  Now 2 thousand years later, we have Baptists and Pentecostals and Lutherans and Anglicans, and more, all telling us that everybody else is wrong.

               So who’s right?   Only each of us can decide that for ourselves.  Look at all the common base lessons and live your life to the best of your ability.  Follow Jesus teachings, whether you believe he was a man or a prophet, or the son of god, and love your neighbour unconditionally.  Decide where you stand on all the slight differences of opinion. It’s all on your and your choice. But stop spreading hate!

               Hate destroys everything that religions of all sorts teach.  Hate turns religious peoples into conquerers, terrorists, feuding families, and multiple warring factions.  Hate causes pain to those on the receiving end, and stress to those on the giving end. There is no possible positive side to hate.  

               I chose to avoid churches in general for the last few years because I could not handle listening to the hate, and finding the worst possible bigots and liars within the walls of the churches, pretending to be good people on Sunday mornings so other people would look up to them.  One day a week does not get you into the kingdom of heaven.  A band I listened to said it the best way possible when I was a teenager, but even though I always remembered it, I never understood it.  “The greatest single cause of Atheism today are those that praise Him with their words, then walk out the door and deny Him by their lifestyle.”  - DC Talk -What if I stumble

               Stop living hate when you preach love. Practice the words that come out of your mouth, and truly love your neighbour.  His religion, color of skin, gender identity, or relationship status should have no bearing on what kind of person they are.  You don’t have to LIKE everyone, or spend time with people you don’t mesh with, but you have no right to judge those that have never done a thing to harm you.  

               Hate the lies of the church teachings, hate the bigotry, Love the man or woman you see in front of you.  We are all fighting for the same thing: to wake up each morning, and enjoy our lives in the best way we know how. Hate in any form robs us from this enjoyment of life.  You don’t have to believe in God or the Bible to live a good life and be good to others. You only have to have faith in humanity, and making this a good place for everyone to enjoy.  Be excellent to each other.

      ��        Hate is Baggage.  Life is too short to be pissed off all the time. Its just not worth it. – American History X.

[bronzeflower]

The Fire of the Heart

Also on ao3

Chapter 1: Blazes, Blood, Magma, Matches, and Swords

-----

<i>You are a fire,

An ever-burning flame,

You light up the room

And I swear I can hear the crackle

Of the sparks coming from your heat,

It's no wonder how you've ignited my heart</i>

This was the poem that Kirishima found on his desk one morning. It wasn't signed, and there was no indication that the poem was actually for Kirishima, but it made his stomach flutter nonetheless.

And, of course, others were very curious about the note as well.

"You got a love poem!" Ashido exclaimed. "That's so romantic!"

"There's no need to get so excited," Kirishima said sheepishly. "After all, there's a possibility that it’s supposed to be for someone else."

"But it was on your desk," Sero pointed out. "Not anyone else's."

"But what if it was for Ashido? Or you or Kaminari? What if the person just made a mistake and put it on the wrong desk?"

"Is it really that hard to believe you'd get a love note, bro?" Kaminari's expression was schooled into a frown, clear disapproval in Kirishima's insistence that the note wasn't for him.

"Well, it's not like it has my name on it…" Kirishima weakly defended. "But it's definitely nice to receive something like this."

"It's totally about you!" Kaminari claimed. "Just look! It describes you as a fire, and, I don't know about you, but your hair is pretty fire-like."

"Aren't you failing Japanese literature?" Sero inquired, leading to Kaminari looking towards him with a scandalized look.

"You are too!"

"Kaminari has a point through!" Ashido proclaimed. "Your hair is red, therefore, you are the fire."

"You're also failing Japanese literature," Sero said, and Ashido shoved him.

"Shut up, this is about Kiri and how this poem is definitely about and for him! I want to know who wrote it! Maybe there’s some clues in the poem!"

"Well, the first lines are about Kirishima being a fire, and we all know that's like his hair, and the light up the room is pretty literal, right?" Kaminari analyzed. "Like, every time he comes into the room, everyone is a little happier in his presence."

"Yes, exactly!" Ashido agreed. Kirishima felt somewhat flustered at hearing his friends say such compliments about him, even if it was about the poem.

"That's-" Kirishima sputtered, his face slowly becoming the color of his hair.

"You've got anything to add Kiri?" Sero opted to save Kirishima the embarrassment of having to respond to his friends' compliments and instead subject him to the embarrassment of having to figure out the meaning of the poem written to him in front of others.

“Well, I mean…” Kirishima took a moment to read over the poem once again, attempting to stop the butterflies in his stomach from arising just from the words typed on the page. “I guess the crackle of the sparks could mean when I use my quirk and do my signature move, it creates sparks?”

“See! Definitely about you!” Ashido proclaimed.

“If you all put this much effort into your Japanese literature studies, you wouldn’t be failing,” Bakugou interrupted, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin.

“What!? I was tricked into analyzing poetry!?” Kaminari exclaimed, looking like the world had shattered. Ashido looked pretty similar.

“Everyone sit down,” Aizawa interrupted, and so everyone did, and Kirishima’s poem was forgotten.

At least in conversation. Privately, Kirishima read over the poem once again and smiled into his pillow, kind of really hoping it was from one person in particular.

Maybe the crackle of the sparks was the heat of that person's palms.

About two days later, Kirishima found another poem resting on his desk, one that was unquestionably about him and, therefore, for him.

<i>Red, the color of passion,

The color of love,

The shade of your hair

And the rush of my blood,

It's the heat of the battle

And the euphoria of a fight,

It's a moment of vulnerability

Deep within the night,

A flash of crimson into my chest,

Cupid's bow pierced

Into the depth of my breast,

And now this red is wedged

Deep into my lovestruck soul</i>

“Lovestruck?” Kirishima whispered to himself in disbelief.

“You got another one?” Sero asked, and Kirishima nodded. “What’s it say this time?”

Kirishima wordlessly handed the poem to Sero, which is about when Kaminari and Ashido began to take interest in the proceedings.

“Mind reading it out loud for us, Sero?” Kaminari requested, and so Sero did so, ignoring how flustered Kirishima got at actually hearing the poem read out loud, even if it wasn’t by the person he actually liked.

But maybe the person who wrote it would react. Kirishima briefly glanced around the room to see if anyone was paying particular attention to Sero’s reading, but he was somewhat disappointed at the general disinterest of the classroom.

Well, maybe he was just disappointed by the lack of interest from one specific person.

"Holy shit," Kaminari said once Sero had finished reading off the poem. "I'm actually kinda jealous."

"I think I got second-hand butterflies just from hearing that," Ashido agreed.

"The motif of red throughout the poem? The acknowledgment of times when someone is strong and when they're weak? Cupid's arrow!??" Kaminari rambled. "God, I want someone to write me poetry. I don't even care if it's written terribly. It'd just be nice to receive even just one poem."

"You could write a poem to your own crush," Sero suggested, leaving Kaminari to fluster over the mere idea.

"What! No! I couldn't!" Kaminari's gaze flickered over to a certain purple-haired individual as he turned an alarming shade of red. "I mean, I have written poems, but I couldn't just leave them on their desk like Kirishima's secret admirer!"

"It certainly takes a lot of guts to leave a poem like that, doesn't it?" Ashido mentioned, and Kirishima found himself agreeing.

"Yeah, it's really manly," Kirishima's voice was still quiet, having stared down at the poem ever since Sero returned it to him.

Once again, the poem was left alone, and Kirishima was safe to love and enjoy the poem all by himself.

When he read over the poem, Kirishima couldn't help but think about his crush writing the poem. It certainly seemed like something he'd write. No one loves fighting quite as much as he did, and Kirishima didn't have late night talks with just anyone.

His only doubts were the lovestruck part, but that didn't stop him from reading the poem over and over again.

The next morning, Kirishima had woken up late, suddenly realized it and quickly put on his uniform. He also didn't have enough time to style his hair up like usual because of how much he overslept.

He ended up arriving late to class to find a third poem, and, because he hadn’t had the time to read it before class, he ended up being burned up with curiosity over what the poem said all throughout hero training, which might have resulted in a less than stellar performance.

But, finally, at lunch, Kirishima was able to read the poem.

<i>You're a volcanic eruption,

Not a tornado that rips apart houses

Or a tsunami that comes so quickly, so suddenly,

Or an earthquake that shakes the ground,

No, you erupt slowly, almost predictably,

The lava chipping away at the land,

Inevitable, slow, and inescapable,

And that is how I fell in love,

Slowly, inevitably, and before

I could realize what was happening</i>

"Not sure how I feel about you getting compared to a natural disaster, but I get the sentiment," Sero ended up reading over Kirishima's shoulder.

"You got another poem?" Ashido asked, a bite of rice still in her mouth. "Show it to me! Show it to me!!"

"Finish chewing your food, goddamn it!" Bakugou accusingly pointed his chopsticks towards Ashido.

“Hey! Don’t point your chopsticks at people!” Kaminari shouted, pointing his own chopsticks towards Bakugou. “It’s rude!”

“Huh!?” Bakugou growled. “Then maybe you should practice what you preach, you piece of expired milk!”

“Did you just call me cheese?” Kaminari asked, scandalized.

“No, I called you expired milk. There’s a difference, you dunce.”

“What happened to the creativity of your jabs? Why call me dunce this time? Could it be that you’ve expended all your creativity?” Kaminari questioned before doing a mock gasp. “Could it be that you’ve been writing poetry?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sparky!” Bakugou shouted before jabbing a piece of meat into his mouth.

“I don’t know, Kami, Bakugou doesn’t really seem like the type to write poetry,” Ashido thought for a moment. “I don’t even think I can imagine it. It’d be all explosions and blood, wouldn’t it?”

“I have emotional variance outside of anger and violence, you stupid moth,” Bakugou interjected.

“Oh yeah? Then write a poem for us,” Ashido demanded, keeping her gaze steady even as she was met with Bakugou’s glare.

“What! No! Fuck you! I don’t have to prove anything!”

“It is kind of weird to ask someone to suddenly write a poem, you know,” Sero added in. “There’s a whole creative process.”

“Yeah,” Kirishima found himself agreeing. “Poetry takes time and work! That’s what makes it so manly!”

“Of course you would say that,” Ashido rolled her eyes. “Fine, he doesn’t have to write any poetry for us, but that just means he stays on the suspect list for who’s writing the poems for Kirishima.”

“You have a suspect list!?” Kirishima shouted. “Why!?”

“So we can find your true love, of course!” Ashido explained. “After you got the second one, Kaminari and I have been wracking our brains to figure out who’s the one writing the poems!”

“Ah, so you mean not much has come out of it,” Bakugou said, earning him pouty glares from both Ashido and Kaminari.

“Don’t say that! We have made plenty of progress!” Kaminari defended.

“Okay, so where’s the list?”

“...It’s a mental list,” Kaminari admitted. “But! That means there’s still a list! And we know that you’re on it!”

“Who isn’t on it?” Bakugou inquired, his grin getting wider and wider as his question was met with silence. “You don’t have any true suspects, do you?”

Something about the way Bakugou was avoiding the question about whether or not he wrote the poems made Kirishima think.

Did Bakugou write the poems? Or was it just wishful thinking on his part?

When Kirishima returned to his dorm for the evening, he took out all three poems in an attempt to analyze the content and the way in which they were written. How were they similar? What in them could point to them being written by Bakugou?

Kirishima’s list wasn’t that long, but it did hold reasonable evidence. Maybe. Mostly it was the mention of fighting and the idea of destruction. Oh yeah! And fire. Lots of fire and maybe that equaled explosions?

He’ll be honest - the evidence really wasn’t all that solid. And Kirishima was biased. And, well, maybe he desperately hoped that his super manly crush wrote the poems because it would mean that Bakugou had it just as bad for Kirishima as Kirishima had for Bakugou.

Kirishima decided he could try to confirm his hope next time he received a poem.

But Kirishima had to wait a while for the next poem, nearly two weeks passing before he got another poem.

<i>Every time I talk to you,

My throat gets burned,

Ashes stick within my voice box,

And I cannot say my words out loud,

Your touch is a furnace,

And your presence is the sun,

Your laugh is the golden rays,

And I cannot be near

Without collecting your flame

Like a match</i>

"Bro, you're staring at that piece of paper like it killed your family," Sero broke Kirishima from his concentration.

"Oh, yeah! I guess Ashido and Kaminari's 'suspect list' kinda got me wondering who was actually writing the poems," Kirishima admitted.

"I mean, it's less weird if it's you thinking about it since you're the one the poems are actually for," Sero said before his grin turned into something more teasing. "So, who do you hope the poems are from?"

"I, I mean," Kirishima stuttered. "I don't <i>know</i> who wrote the poems, and it's not like they've come up and been like, 'hey, Kirishima! I'm the one who wrote the poems! Wanna go on a date?' So it's not like I have an idea or anything-"

"Not what I asked. I asked who you <i>want</i> the poems to be from."

"Don't you already know, Sero?" Kirishima whispered, and Sero nodded.

"I do. What are you going to do if it's not him?"

"I don't know. Turn them down, I guess?" Kirishima answered. "Maybe go on one date to see how it turns out?"

"What if it is him?"

"Die," Kirishima answered, and the two of them laughed uproariously after a beat of silence.

"Don't say this to Kaminari or Ashido, but I think there's a pretty high chance of it being him," Sero whispered.

"You really think so?" Kirishima flustered.

"Yeah, I do," Sero answered with a look in his eye that Kirishima couldn't really decipher.

Kaminari came in when the bell rung, and Ashido came in late, so they didn't get to see the poem until lunchtime.

“Another one!?” Ashido squealed. “Gimme, gimmie, gimmie!”

“Alright, alright, here!” Kirishima handed the poem off to Ashido, whose eyes greedily ate up the words.

“Let me see!” Kaminari whined, and Ashido soon handed it over to him as she dramatically offered her reaction to the poem.

“I could barely read that without getting flustered!”

“But the poem is for me,” Kirishima pointed out, a little more confident regarding the contents of the poetry.

“I’m second-hand flustered!”

“Honestly, me too,” Kaminari agreed. “This is just so sweet! The comparison of Kiri to the sun? God, I wish that were me.”

“Be better than,” Bakugou interjected, causing Kaminari to frown.

“Don’t be like that, Bakugou! Not everyone can be as manly as Kiri over here,” Kaminari teased. “I’m more of a pretty boy. But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is who Kirishima thinks wrote the poems! So, who do you think it is?”

“I thought you were going to do the research yourself,” Kirishima said, but Kaminari and Ashido donned matching grins.

“Is there a certain <i>someone</i> that you hope the poems are from?” Ashido’s eyes gleamed, completely unaware that Kirishima and Sero had this exact conversation just a few hours earlier.

“I, I mean-” Kirishima couldn’t possibly say who he hopes the poems are from. Not here. Not now. Not when the object of his affections was sitting <i>right there</i>.

“Who do you think the poems are from?” Sero jumped in to ask, saving Kirishima the embarrassment of having to admit his crush in front of his crush.

“Well, we’ve narrowed down the list,” Kaminari started before Bakugou interrupted.

“The nonexistent list.”

“Yes, yes, but we DID narrow it down! Now,” Kaminari cleared his throat. “We have removed anyone we know does not like men.”

“So that includes Yaoyorozu, Satou, Ojirou, Kouda, and Tsuyu,” Ashido announced.

“That doesn’t narrow down shit,” Bakugou interrupted before being shushed by Ashdio.

“It’s not MY fault that the majority of our class is bisexual!” Ashido countered. “Or gay men!”

“To continue!” Kaminari punctuated. “We removed those who we know are either exclusively dating someone or have a crush on someone!”

“Which means that Jirou, Uraraka, and Todoroki are off the list!” Ashido said. “There’s probably other students with crushes, but some people are very, very elusive with their crush.”

“Hagakure is impossible to find any information on,” Kaminari stated. “And we couldn’t find any conclusive evidence about Shouji or Tokoyami, but they might be dating each other?”

“We think they are, but who knows,” Ashido shrugged. “They won’t say anything.”

“Because it’s none of your fucking business, you dumbasses,” Bakugou shouted.

“And then me and Kaminari are off the list because we know we didn’t write the poems,” Ashido ignored Bakugou. “And Kirishima is off the list because he’s the one receiving the poems.”

“Great, so you’ve narrowed it down to half the class,” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Big whoop. How do you know it’s not someone from some other class? Like that metal dude Kirishima arm-wrestled during the sports festival?”

“Tetsutetsu is straight,” Kirishima informed. “It’s one of the things we don’t have in common.”

“If the poems were written by Hagakure, she’s going to be heartbroken,” Ashido lamented. “But, then again, the subject matter of the poems doesn’t really seem very much like Hagakure, does it? Let’s remove her from the list.”

“Removed!” Kaminari dutifully replied. “Now, who does that leave, I mean, if we’re not counting students outside our class.”

“I don’t know. I thought you were the one keeping track?”

“Oh yeah! I was!” Kaminari realized. “So, the folks we have on our suspect list include Aoyama, Iida, Shouji, Bakugou, Sero, Tokoyami, Shinsou, and Midoriya.”

“Ah, you might want to remove Aoyama from that list,” Kirishima said. “He’s dating someone, but I honestly don’t really remember who. Maybe Kuroiro? I think, but I know he is in an exclusive relationship as far as I know.”

“Removed!” Kaminari shouted, almost like a computer program that was designed to just say the word removed when something was taken from a list.

“And based on Bakugou’s outburst, I’m going to guess that Shouji and Tokoyami are in a relationship,” Kirishima hypothesized. “Bakugou and Shouji do live right next to each other, after all.”

“Oh! Good point!” Ashido agreed. “So who does that leave?”

“Sero, Bakugou, Iida, Shinsou, and Midoriya,” Kaminari listed off.

“Why am I even on this list?” Sero questioned. “I know I didn’t write the poems.”

“Fair enough!” Ashido yelled.

“That only leaves four people!” Kaminari exclaimed.

Kirishima looked over to Bakugou to find an almost imperceptible look of fear cross his face.

“But you don’t want Shinsou to be the one writing me poems, do you Kaminari?” Kirishima asked before he could stop himself.

Kaminari went red.

“I mean! Well, maybe not, but, like, SCIENCE, or, or something, er, I, um,”

“Why don’t you write him some poetry?” Sero inquired, and Kaminari only got more flustered.

When Kirishima looked over towards Bakugou, there was a hint of relief in his eyes, and that only made Kirishima certain that Bakugou was the one who wrote the poems.

Kirishima didn’t confront Bakugou immediately. No, he needed time to think about what his next course of action should be. Should he let Bakugou come forward himself?

Kirishima decided that he would wait for now.

But that didn’t mean that he didn’t go back to the privacy of his room to squeal over the poems that he now knew were written by Bakugou.

A week later, Kirishima received a fifth poem.

<i>This love is like Excalibur,

Or the sword within the stone,

You were the one to pull it out,

And that is what makes you king,

But you were kingly before that,

For the sword wouldn't have chosen you

If you weren't already strong,

If you weren't already noble,

If you weren't already someone

That others look up to,

I may be fighting beside you,

But I am still your loyal subject</i>

Whereas Kirishima was very much thrilled to receive most of the poems, this one had his brows furrowing and his mouth turning down. He knew Bakugou was the one to write the poems, so why…?

Kirishima put away the poem right after he read it. He was lucky that he’d come into the classroom before his friends. He didn’t want them to see that particular poem.

Kirishima had to do something about this, but he didn’t want to rush into the situation. He needed...well, he didn’t really know what he needed, but he knew that he should consult someone else before taking action.

Usually, he would go to Bakugou for advice and sometimes Sero if the situation called for it, but this didn’t feel like an issue that either of them could help Kirishima with.

So Kirishima turned to a different member of the so-called “Bakusquad.” The one and only Jirou Kyouka.

Kirishima approached Jirou after class, feeling Bakugou’s suspicious gaze on him. Afterall, Kirishima almost always went immediately to Bakugou when class ended. Kirishima sent out an internal apology because this was important, and he would make it up to Bakugou soon enough.

“Jirou, can you help me with something?” Kirishima asked.

“Depends on what that something is,” Jirou negotiated, making Kirishima feel a little stupid for not outlining what he wanted to ask for help with beforehand.

“Well, you’re good with things like music and lyrics, right?” Kirishima questioned and continued when Jirou nodded, but he made sure to lower his voice so Bakugou wouldn’t hear. “So, I’m sure you’re aware I’ve been getting poems for the past couple of weeks, right? I figured out who was writing them, and I want to write a response poem for them, but I have no idea how to write poetry!”

“So you came to me for help with that?”

“Well, lyrics to songs are kind of like poems, right?” Kirishima stated. “Please help me?”

“I guess I will, but you owe me.”

“Thank you so much!” Kirishima briefly glanced over towards Bakugou. “Uh, I’ve got to go now, but I’ll meet up with you later, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, just go already before you piss him off any more.”

Later that day, Kirishima found himself in Jirou’s room, writing and rewriting the poem that he was going to give to Bakugou.

[saintmachina]

What were some parts of seminary that you liked, versus ones you didn’t? I’m thinking about my future (read: freaking tf out) and I know I want to study theology in some way, I’m just not sure how exactly, ya feel?

Thanks for the question! Your mileage may vary: I went to a Princeton Seminary, which I would categorize as a theologically/politically moderate, academic, traditional Western-style seminary. Seminary culture varies WIDELY from school to school, so keep that in mind when choosing between, say, a Princeton, which may be a more insular academic community focused on research and internships, and a Fuller, which may be a larger community more integrated with the surrounding city concerned with practical training for missionaries, worship leaders, and Christian artists. This is NOT to say that you can’t learn to be an awesome worship leader at PTS (I know them) or an awesome theology professor at Fuller, but make sure you shop around for your particular cultural, career, and academic needs. 

Things I Loved

The residential experience. Nearly all students at PTS live in beautiful on-campus housing or in apartments specialized for families with children just a few miles away. Living a few minutes walk from the library, my professors’ offices, and the chapel was amazing, especially since students at PTS tend to be sociable with the others who live on their hall. I would often spend my evenings studying with friends in their dorm rooms, and since everyone on campus at any given time tends to eat their meals in the cafeteria together, I formed a strong clique of ten or so people who unpacked my readings + spiritual crises with me at the lunch table. 

Spiritual friendships. I was able to make deeper friends than ever before in my life from a variety of denominational and theological backgrounds. We saw each other through vocational shifts, prayed with each other, administered the Eucharist to each other, celebrated birthdays and ordinations together, and stayed up late into the night when anyone needed us. I would literally drive across the country to bail any of them out of jail at a moment’s notice.  

The emotional crucible. Seminary is bootcamp for the soul. You get exposed to so many new ideas and theologies, learn how to preach, sit at people’s bedside while they’re sick, pull together responses for every new act of violence in the news, and most of the time, are thrust into a leadership role at a church that is either going under and begging you to save them or so large and thriving that it nearly swallows you whole. Nothing will grow you up like that. I have an insane amount of poise now dealing with other people’s crises, rage, or grief, and that wasn’t the case when I matriculated. Pastors are all making it up as we go along, but seminary gives at least the appearance of sage wisdom under pressure. 

Academic engagement with theology. This one seems obvious, but after spending four years in a secular liberal arts university that was tolerant of my enduring interest in religion but didn’t offer me an outlet for it, seminary was balm in Gilead. I loved being able to dig into what I really cared about directly, be that metaphysics, church history, or the Bible as literature, and I thrived being surrounded by other people who cared about it and did the reading and wanted to explore together. 

Freedom to research what I wanted. There are plenty of demanding intro-level courses that throw you to the ground and kick you while you cry into your notecards (New Testament, what’s good) but it was fun being on that ride with the rest of your small cohort, and upper-level classes offered chances to research what you cared about. I got to present research on astrology in the book of Daniel, queer American Muslim communities, IVF treatments and theology in Ghana, overlap in myths about Odin and Jesus, and I did an independent research study linking the emergent church to the spike in Millennials re-discovering the Episcopal and Catholic churches.The library was stuffed to the brim with books I would kill for. What a treat.

The melting pot. PTS DEFINITELY has its ideological and admissions biases but they do work hard to create a diverse student body, and I was close with students from so many different counties, denominations, ethnicities, and political leanings, which was enriching beyond belief. It was one of the big reasons I chose a seminary degree. That said, not all schools skew diverse, and I was very specific about choosing a seminary that was explicitly affirming of women in ministry and the goodness and wholeness of LGBTQ+ folks, so I knew that I would be supported by general school policies. Getting that information up front is important. 

Access to university resources. This one is PTS specific, but I went to a independent seminary closely linked to and basically on the same campus as Princeton University (they were the same school back in the 1800s until an amicable split, but we’re still cozy). This meant that I had access to Princeton U libraries, free events, lectures, and religious life, and I was a member of the Episcopal Church at Princeton U for most of my time at seminary. People bribe admissions officials or work themselves to nervous breakdown to get access to the resources I had at my fingertips, and I don’t take that for granted. 

The aesthetic. If I’m gong to take tens of thousands dollars of loans out for graduate school you bet you’re ass I’m going to be sitting in American Hogwarts while I do it. 

Things I Did Not

The cliquishness. This one is a double-edged sword, because I thrived on having a clique of high-functioning. highly-educated pastors who ate at the same lunch table and gossiped about the same people and showed up to campus parties in a gang, but that’s not always healthy. People tended to fragment off by denomination or where they fall on the liberal-conservative scale, and differences can fester that way. Students of color were often implicitly excluded from certain spaces through this behavior. Humans skew towards tribalism to begin with, but when you put super socially-oriented people with strong beliefs in one space where they have to live on top of each other and are looking for low-effort socializing after a long day in the trauma ward, confessional, or picket line, it gets worse. 

Imposter syndrome. Maybe it’s grad school in general that does this, but I spent most of my degree fighting off the feeling that I was dumb, lazy, not serious enough about my “calling” or my research, and probably a heretic. Part of my character growth came from learning not to give a fuck about what people who didn’t share my passions thought of them, and from realizing that I wasn’t on the ordination or PhD track like most of my peers, and that was okay. So I grew from this, but it stung like hell. I cried a lot.

No handholding. The professors at PTS were, by and large, old school, and they were busy as hell. While there was opportunities for office hours, most engagement with professors came in the performative form of “a question, well, more of a comment really” during lectures. Students, (mostly men, I’m not going to lie to you) scrambling for a good letter of rec for a PhD tended to monopolize whatever time professors had. I can think of exceptions (Ellen Charry was exceptional and made time for me in her home when I was struggling to unpack antisemitic theology) but it was a far cry from the literature department in my undergrad, where professors were accessible and knew me personally as mentors and friends. 

Caregiver burnout. This is my big one, and is the reason I’m still in recoup mode doing the office job thing instead of working in formal ministry. Everyone at my school was a pastor, hospital chaplain, activist, or social worker. We are the people who care so much, and who are constantly doing emotional labor for those around us with no time off and usually, poor personal boundaries. Working in a field where it is your job to hold everyone’s hurt and be the face of God to them while their life falls apart is….hard. It was not unusual for me to work ten hours at Penn on my feet in campus ministry, helping people sort through whether or not they wanted to report their sexual assault, holding mini-interventions about excessive drinking, and scrambling to re-schedule worship night after my volunteer went to the hospital after a suicide attempt, and then ride the train home while my phone blew up with news of a new mass shooting that I would have to help host a candlelight vigil for. You hold your parishioner’s hand while they die in hospice. You watch social services take your client’s children away. You stand still while someone screams at you for being too political in your sermon, or not political enough. You sit down to do the budget only to realize the beloved pastor who just retired had been embezzling. Typical Tuesday. 

A lot of the items on these lists are specific to my temperament and the culture at PTS, but by and large I would say it was an amazing experience well worth my time, effort, and money. I pushed myself academically beyond what I believed I was capable of, made the deepest friends of my life, found a home denomination, learned how to effectively care for others and myself, and was met by God in transformative ways again and again. Someday I may get that ordination or work for a ministry nonprofit again, but I have skills now that no one can take away from me, skills I use every day in some capacity. 

Good luck in your discernment process, and I pray you find yourself in exactly the place you need to be!

[so-shiny-so-chrome]

Witness: Kalashnikorn

Creator name (AO3): Kalashnikorn

Creator name (Tumblr): Main-force-patrol

Link to creator works: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalashnikorn

Creator name (other platform- please specify): @Riccarterfans (twitter)

Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?

A: My interest in Mad Max started early. I was maybe 12-14 when my mom picked it up on VHS at a garage sale because she had fond memories of the film when it came out (she saw it in theaters, which is rare for her). We’re both fond of cars and dystopian/apocalyptic stuff, so I easily connected with the movie and fell in love with WAY too many of the characters. So there was my weirdo self, in the early 2000s, loving MM1 but not really having a fandom to join. I had fun on my own, drawing stuff, making toys of the characters, writing doofy adolescent fanfic. You know, the works. But I did it in isolation, because I was a LONELY kid. Not just in terms of fandom, there were just never other kids around, or adults (other than my parents) around. Therefore, I spent most of my time online, and lost countless hours lurking on the MadMaxMovies.com forum. But I didn’t feel safe talking to people there, because the only other fans were guys my dad’s age. For years, if I had any kind of fandom-related wish that I’d give an arm to fulfill, it was that other girls and queer folks would embrace the MM series so I could finally share my excitement with people that would “get” me. Fast forward to 2015. Fury Road fulfilled that wish. I knew tumblr was my best chance at getting those friends I’d wanted for so long. It’s better than I’d ever dreamed. Mad Max Fandom, I love you! Special shoutout to @d--t, @crunkmouse, @sillyb0yblue, @sleepymayo, @lethalpr0tector, @legendofstraydog, @partyinvalhalla and @vanessa-geraldine-carlysle! 

Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?

A: I love to write first-person fic that delves into the darker aspects of the human psyche. How do we justify killing others? What impact does a hypermasculine culture have upon a man with depression and anxiety? Is violence really the key to surviving the apocalypse? I also enjoy writing about people seeking control or freedom, and wrestling with that they believe they need to do to achieve that. 

Q: What (if any) music do you listen to for help getting those creative juices flowing?

A: Since I do first person, I like something to get me into the head of the character I’m writing, so I make playlists for certain characters. 99% of the time, anymore, I’m writing as Roop, so on his playlist I’ve got a bunch of stuff quasi-hipster stuff that touches upon themes of isolation, anger, violence, and feelings of helplessness. There’s a bunch of indie rock, some seventies stuff, and A LOT OF PINK FLOYD. Oh, and there’s some Aussie rock in there too, of course. 

Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?

A: Finding the time to write! 

Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?

A: Roop… And Roop.  And my understanding of him has absolutely grown through portraying him. He’s a character that’s in MM1 for like.. Ten minutes? And after the opening chase scene, he hardly has any lines. But Steve Millichamp does an excellent job portraying him with his posture, body language, etc. So I gleaned ideas from his non-verbal performance. Honestly, if you look at the number of times he makes a mopey face, it’s astounding. Other times, he looks at Fifi for guidance, the way a kid looks at a parent or teacher. He doesn’t seem to have any friends at work, partially due to his own personality. I could go on for hours. From all that, I extrapolated that he’s basically caught between childhood and adulthood, and he’s trying to sort out what it means to be a good cop and a good person. Sometimes those things aren’t congruent, and it tears him up because he’s a very type A, hardworking perfectionist. Growing up, he was told that he was gifted, smart, etc., and he feels like an imposter because he fixates on his shortcomings and mistakes. And when trying to live up to this impossibly high standard, he puts a lot of pressure on himself and struggles when he has to surrender or when he fails. There’s a ton more, but those are the highlights. The vast majority my MM/Roop fic stays offline. Pretty much all of it is irrelevant to the rest of the Mad Max universe, so there’s no point in posting it. It’s taken on a life of its own. Of course, some people have let me know that they dislike or disagree with my characterization of Roop. That’s fine. Nobody’s forcing them to read my fic.

Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?

A: Oh hell yes. And I’m completely shameless about it, because I don’t think the practice should be taboo or frowned upon. We wouldn’t shame an actor who tapped their lived experience to bring authenticity to a role, would we?  I think we should extend the same understanding to writers. Aside from being a great way to understand more about our selves, enjoy an escapist fantasy, or work through trauma, I think self-insertion can be a great way to evoke emotional authenticity in a story.

Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?

A: I pretty much stick to what I consider my strength, which is genfic. So I mostly stick to portraying platonic interactions, both friendly and unfriendly. I particularly like exploring how Roop interacts with/judges his co-workers. I’m also fond of writing about good moms who love and encourage their kids. Sometimes the mom is the viewpoint character, sometimes it’s the kid. Regardless, I like looking at how parental relationships can shape a person’s worldview.

Q: How does your work for the fandom change how you look at the source material?

A: My work makes me hyper-analyze MM1 and its novelization. I mostly write MM1 fic because I feel like we could have gotten a lot more mileage out of exploring MM1’s world, before society fully broke down and became the more fantastical wasteland we know and love in MM2, MM3, and MMFR. As much as I like the later worldbuilding stuff, I can really appreciate watching a civilization crumble in a grounded, slow-burning manner. 

Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?

A: Depends on what you mean by “break.” I think a lot purists would say that I break canon, so I’ll put it this way: I like to write stories where I add to canon without directly contradicting it. We’re never shown Roop’s home life, for instance. It’s free real estate! I do this because I just want MORE MM1. More Roop, more MFP, more Armalites, all of it. I don’t feel the need to change anything, just add more volume to it. That said, I love it when others break canon! I have a ton of fun reading AUs and alternate scenes. 

Q: Share some headcanons

A: GRAB A SEAT AND PUT YOUR SITTIN’ PANTS ON. Here we go: In addition to recruiting local police officers and other traditional recruiting strategies, the MFP uses conscription to fill out its ranks. Roop is one such draftee. Roop doesn’t spend any time with Charlie outside of work. He really just tries to minimize contact with the guy. If we do all my Roop headcanons, we’ll be here until the Miller completes MM5. Charlie wanted to go seminary school and become a priest, but was drafted. Losing his voice pretty much killed his dream of preaching. Fifi takes an interest in his men, but only so he can better manipulate them into staying/reenlisting. Bubba was a former MFP officer who went rogue once budget cuts and bureaucratic decisions made law enforcement abandon his rural hometown.

Q: Who are some works by other creators inside and outside of the fandom that have influenced your work?Inside the fandom, the old RP crowd and I bounced a lot of ideas off each other, and interacting with their muses helped Roop’s story grow by leaps and bounds (finger guns at @d--t’s OC, Renholder, @vanessa-geraldine-carlysle’s portrayal of Charlie, and @legendofstraydog’s OC, Syrup!) Outside the fandom, my biggest influences are Kurt Vonnegut, J.D. Salinger, Quentin Tarantino, the Coen Brothers, and Sam Esmail.

Q: Have you visited or do you plan to visit Australia, Wasteland Weekend, or other Mad Max place?

A: Not yet, but I'd love to go someday!

Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned project

A: “Autotomy” is my big current WIP. It’s 7 chapters into its 9 or 10 chapter run (I’ve literally got chapter 8 open in another window as I’m writing this). It follows Roop immediately after MM1 ends. He sees the aftermath of Max’s rampage, and begins to question his own ideals. Then his morals are put to the test when an unexpected guest arrives at his home. The word “autotomy” describes cutting off a part of oneself to escape a greater threat. Think of a lizard that sheds its trapped tail to avoid being eaten. I’m using it in the literal and metaphorical sense. At the end of MM1, we see someone have to make a literal life-or-limb decision. And in this story, Roop has to decide whether or not to cut off the toxic ideology that has guided his actions.

Thank you @main-force-patrol @richardcarterfans some of your tags got lost in reformatting.  You may want to retag your peeps

[bffhreprise]

Entry 265

 Seeing how Jarod fought, I believed my son’s claim that he was trained by Death herself.  If Lady Pendreigh were anyone lesser, she’d have broken bones within the first minute.  After five, he’d likely be hitting pulp, considering how easily he had incapacitated my son.  Even as an observer, I couldn’t find what mistakes Lady Pendreigh was making in this fight, though there surely were some.

 Her feints were brushed aside in a casual manner, but the occasional following hit by Jarod would have crippled the offending limb.  Her actual attacks were predicted, and treated even more aggressively with precise strikes against the joints.  Lady Pendreigh’s skill in combat was clear as ever, but this man’s style truly made him a living weapon.

 So caught up was I by the display that I took several seconds in realizing that a rattling sound was coming from nearby.  A small girl with voluminous blonde hair was standing there, shaking intensely as she held a serving tray which held a fine tea set.

 “Raine!?  Are you alright?” questioned Mr. Somerset, obvious concern showing in his voice.

 Such a noise interrupting a demonstration was disgraceful, but there was something peculiar about how the girl shook as if she were trying to restrain herself but couldn’t completely.

 “J-James… i-is... is s-she r-really… d-did she... c-come to t-take…  the t-twins?” replied the girl.  Her eyes were startling, seeming to glow slightly red.  There was malice in them.

 My daughters had moved in front of me protectively, but I caught a look of fear on their face.  They were too disciplined to show such things after years spent under Lady Pendreigh’s tutelage, yet the fear showed.

 “Ah.  Raine.  Thank you for delivering us our tea.  Was Marco busy?” inquired Lady Pendreigh conversationally.

 “W-we can’t… c-can’t let I-Izu-m-mi…  A-Alma… t-the wedding…” complained the girl in an almost begging tone.  Her insolence was trying my patience.

 I considered acting to put an end to this, but there was a warning tickling my nerves.  My senses made me feel I should run.  Something was terribly wrong.

 “Why don’t I take these for you?” suggested Lady Pendreigh, using a spell to take the tray.  She seemed wary of the girl.  “Word does travel fast around here, doesn’t it.  Lady Izumi, how do you feel about your daughters’ engagement?”

 “To whom am I speaking?” I asked, forcing myself to keep a level tone.

 “Oh.  My apologies.  Allow me to introduce Raine Vance, possibly the most timid werecat on the planet.  Raine, this is the mother of Ai and Mai, Lady Izumi Drache.”

 “I think I better have a word with Raine in private.  Please feel free to continue in my absence.” stated Mr. Somerset, seeming cautious in how he reached toward the girl.

 She vanished, and I felt my composure drop to my stomach, knotting away.  The room had grown darker, and a sense of malevolence was there.  My eyes scanned the area for a would-be attacker, but I was distracted by the obvious wariness in Lady Pendreigh.

 “Raine!  Please, just calm down!  I know you don’t want to hurt anyone.  I promise you that things will work out.” insisted Mr. Somerset, though he seemed nervous as well as he talked to a dark spot in the corner.

 My mind reeled against what I was seeing, two spots of glowing red in complete darkness.  I only caught a glimpse before a majority of the darkness vanished along with the eyes.  I jumped when I realized there was a… thing next to James now.

 “Y-you p-promise?” came an eerie voice, like a whisper echoing down a long hall unnaturally loud.

 What I was seeing fully registered.  This was a demon, a very strong demon.  I could see the cat-like features, but they were all wrong.  The fur was more like millions of needles covering her body.  The teeth looked too long for her mouth, and the claws were even larger, but still ended in razor thin tips.  Shadowy projections emanated from the creature, as if her intentions to murder me were on display.

 Mr. Somerset reached out, placing his hand on a very human shoulder as he said, “I promise.”

 The girl was crying.  “I-I w-was… I-I’m sorry.”

 He hugged her and told her “Don’t be sorry.  Just go find something to distract you for a bit.  I seem to recall you being behind on your orders for the guild in Ancient Tribes of Earth.”

 “I-I was w-working… l-last n-night.  W-well, I-I f-felt… I… n-napped.  S-sorry.  I-I’ll get… f-finish t-them.” she mumbled.  Then she was gone, far too quick to follow.

 Chills were still racing up my spine, and the knot in my stomach was firmly resisting any attempt to unravel it.  I was sweating like some mere human, but I was thankful to be alive.

 “Sorry about the interruption, but Raine can be rather forceful in a way. “ suggested Mr. Somerset, seeming perfectly calm again.

 “F-forceful?  You’re harboring a d-demon.” I replied in my native tongue, embarrassed by the crack in my voice.  I forced air through my lungs, commanding my body to be calm.

 “She’s only half-demon.  She really is half-werecat.  Don’t worry.  Adelmar keeps himself apprised of my staff.” he insisted, still speaking English.

 “He is well aware that I am a vampire and still offered me France.” stated Cosette with a smile that showed small points grow from her fangs.  “He can be quite generous, don’t you think?”

 I stepped away from the girl before I registered what I was doing.  This household was even more dangerous than I had believed.  “Adelmar is aware of this?” I questioned, wanting confirmation from another of the family.

 “Of course.  Are you insinuating that I would keep things from my cousin?” asked Lady Pendreigh in a reasonable tone that didn’t conceal the threat.

 “N-no.” I assured her, embarrassed again.  I took a strong grip on my nerves as I turned to Mr. Somerset.  “You have interesting companions, Mr. Somerset.”

 He nodded and said, “Call me James, please.  I still think of my father as ‘Mr. Somerset.’”  Smiling, he asked “What did you think of Jarod’s performance before the interruption?”

 “He is a remarkable man, and I would be quite happy to accept him as the husband of one of my daughters.” I replied, proud that my voice had sounded smooth.

 He sighed, seeming displeased by my reply.

 “Okaasama, careful!” urged one of my daughters.

 “She’ll hear you.” agreed her twin.

 The teapot tipped, pouring tea into a glass which floated over to me.  The next went to James, and finally one came my way.

 “Your daughters are trying to keep you alive.  I am quite certain that Raine has better hearing than James and me.” claimed Lady Pendreigh, a picture of calm.

 Her words struck a blow to my peace of mind.  If what she said were true, I was making an extremely dangerous enemy.  I kept reminding myself that the Great One had approved of my trip.  He was on my side in this matter.

 “Even knowing your daughters as you do, how can you insist on marrying separate people?” asked James, sounding genuinely confused.

 “They are two people, and polygamy is illegal.” I reminded him.

 Lady Pendreigh sighed this time.  Then she said, “Adelmar has just granted James permission to challenge you over the matter with me presiding over the challenge.  James, please leave some life in her.  A light flick will probably be enough.”

 “But…” I started to protest.  :Great One, is this true?: I questioned, knowing he’d be monitoring my thoughts.

  :Yes, Izumi.  You spit in the face of those obviously superior to you and wish for me to make time to save you?  Know your place and respect your betters.  You know quite well that James could kill you with ease.  If he does, even by accident, I might just let James represent our affairs in Japan as well as your other holdings.: replied Adelmar.  He continued speaking in my mind, explaining the full weight of my mistakes in this matter.

 I should never have expected to get my daughters back from Lady Pendreigh.  They were hers completely, and Adelmar prized them more than my firstborn due to that.  I knew their training was likely superior to what I could offer, but being told so bluntly left me shaken to my core.

 I handed my tea to a daughter and quickly took a dogeza position before saying, “I concede and ask your forgiveness.”

 “Please rise.  I’m happy that we could reach peaceful settlement on the matter.” stated James pleasantly.

 I did as he said but didn’t dare look in his eyes.  My status in the family had taken enough of a hit already from this blunder.  Adelmar still preached in my mind.

 “If you’ll excuse me, I want to check on Raine.  Mila will inform you when dinner is ready if you’ll dine with us.” he told me.  Then he turned and walked out of the door.

 Lady Pendreigh motioned for me to sit, having taken a seat herself.  “Raine is quite the wonder.  I cannot follow her movement.  Without Cosette’s aid, I likely would still bear the small wound she gave me when I pushed her too far.”

 I surely stared at her with wide eyes.  Such an admission was rare, but I nodded, seeing the warning behind the words.  If Lady Pendreigh could not recover from the wound, Raine could easily carve her will into my skin for all to see.  I certainly did not have a vampire to assist me.  Who could stop Raine?  Who would even try?  Speed beyond Lady Pendreigh typically took a Slayer, but speed she could not even follow was unheard of.

 “How is Duncan these days?” questioned Emma.

 I felt uncomfortably aware of how much wood surrounded us.  Even being in a house with Emma placed me in a trap.  “He is well and his interest has not waned.” I replied.

 Cosette smiled and said, “I look forward to meeting him someday.  His sisters always speak well of him.”

 “You honor us.” I replied.  Then I asked “Please pardon any rudeness, but from what part of the family do you hail to be offered France?”

 “The House of Bourbon.  My father was Louis XVI, though my mother was not Marie Antoinette.  I was born after his change to another vampire.” she explained.

 I could see the value of having someone of the family who could also act from within the vampires, but I needed to do research into her lineage to guess at her powers, at least the Slayer-born ones.  His reign was long before my time.  I knew she wasn’t of Papak’s bloodline, so skill with magic and physical strength could tell me more of her vampire nature as soon as I learned her exact age.

 Given her father’s age and former position, she might well be privy to many of our family’s secrets, even ones that were supposedly taken to the grave.  As conversation continued, I became more and more convinced that I’d get nothing from her.  The girl’s speech and motions might as well have been rehearsed with how easily she could redirect conversation without giving away anything.  If I could stand the thought of vampire grandchildren, I would suggest that my son redirect his attentions.

[s-o-n-de-r]

Emarosa talks new tunes, blending their style

Photo by: Alex Feggi

Sonder contributor Travis Boyer recently had the chance to touch base with rock outfit Emarosa and talk about their changing musical style, new single, and what has fueled it all. Check out the interview below:

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Travis Boyer: "Stay" blends in nostalgia via the quintessential 80s pop sound, but still sounds contemporary and fresh, what goes into putting a new spin on a sound that's synonymous with a certain era?

Emarosa:  I don't think it’s a conscious effort to put a new spin on it. I think our nostalgia, tastes and music that we listen to has influenced our instinct to make something fresh but familiar. T: In addition, do you think nostalgia helps or hurts the creative process?

E: For me, if I hear something that brings me back to a time in my life that I love. I’m going to really attach to that song. Nostalgia is typically referencing a happy memory or longing for that happiness in the past. I can't imagine why that would be bad if it’s tapped for the creative process.

T: What made you choose the 80s pop era as the sound you wanted to emulate?

E: It’s just what we grew up on. Our tastes have changed over the last decade and I think we all often reach back to our youth the older we get in a way to hold onto that. So it’s been a pretty strong sense of direction as far as what music we’re making. T: "Preach" is very much in the vein of that classic, new wave sound with a distinctly powerful message attached to it. What was the inspiration behind this song?

E: Everyone knows everything, right? To put yourself in the public eye is to put a target on you for anything at any time. I think “Preach” is a fantastic way to push back against that idea. T: Many bands and artists undergo evolutions in sound over their careers, what influenced your continued shift in style/genre?

E: It’s crazy to me that a band would want to make the same sounding album again and again. I’ve tapped into so many genres as a creative, so many styles. What we’ve released has felt the most organic and natural for us to create. The next record might bring us back to post-hardcore, who knows? When the time comes, we create what is the most honest and what feels like we want to create at that time. There's no game plan for creativity. T: How do you think "Sting" differs from "Peach Club”?

E: Great question. I think there's a maturity in “Sting”. PC was fun and poppy, light-hearted and a little bombastic at times. Sting is more focused, grown and refined. Full transparency I think it may become our most underappreciated album but time will tell. T: In addition to the release of your next album, "Sting," on January 27, what else do you anticipate that 2023 has in store for Emarosa?

E: We’ll be announcing some select cities in the US for live performances. We’ve got more music to release before the year is out as well. Plenty more from the Emarosa camp.

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