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[jacks-unsanctioned-editorials]

Talking the Talk

So here we are, most of a year into ‘so magic people exist and we’ve been lying about that for a long time’, and understandably there’s some questions about that hanging around the place. I’m not gonna get back into talking points about the Mask and why we couldn’t tell the truth, mostly because at this point you either believe us when we say we couldn’t turn it off, or you don’t and you’re not gonna be persuaded by an opinion blog from Maryland. I am going to get into some of the consequences of the Masked world that are just now starting to unravel, though. Y’all remember that interview in like May, just when things were hot off the presses, with Miss Missy Mystery in DC? If you haven’t seen it yet, look up ‘Changeling Historian’ on Youtube and click the first link. I really hate to be the guy who keeps kicking her when she’s down over this video but she kinda gets hot under the collar about the repeated questions; was this politician or historical figure Lost, what did Changelings do about slavery or Prohibition or World War One, that sorta thing. Not so big secret? This is more or less our reaction whenever you ask us that:

I am a paid professional. I get it, I really do. This seems like the sort of thing you’d write down and brag about later. But we don’t really write things down. Or at least, we didn’t. And the Mask was a pretty comprehensive protection. In person, sure, you could see another Changeling as who they are, but by photo, by video, God forbid by portrait? Nope. Not even a little. The history of the Lost is the history of humanity, sure, but I could look at every single photo of, I dunno, World War 2 and at best give you 30% odds that I correctly identify any given person in them as having been a Changeling. Maybe a Winter boy could give you better odds but good luck getting them to even try. For the longest time, the Lost have been a secret even from one another. The Fairest of Lands is always watching, waiting, looking to drag us back, and that means most of us don’t travel. How do you know it’s safe where you’re going? How do you know you won’t get ambushed on the road, or attacked by monsters? It wasn’t just ignorance protecting Average Joe Mk. 1 from that, it was the fact that they couldn’t see. You see fae things, and they see you, and things are different. Likewise, knowledge about the Lost was inherently secret and special, so it was usually coded orally, kept in protected dreams or weird rhymes or elaborate ciphers to help prevent Them from getting at it. We’ve got a whole society of people who use magic to preserve memories specifically because Freeholds have been dragged under by writing the wrong thing down. Sound paranoid and stressful? Good, it should. That’s the life we lived. That we still live, honestly. The Unmasking has offered the chance to change things. For the first time, you can see that someone is Lost by video or photo or even by cell phone for the folks with weird voices. That’s such an amazingly, mind-blowingly big deal that it’s hard to wrap my head around it. It used to be that any given Freehold was absolutely reliant on services like the Sacred Couriers for news of anywhere else. Now we can turn on the news and get word of distant Freeholds. Once upon a time if you wanted to take the car ride from Alaric to New Avalon - you know, less than a fucking hour - you were insane, brave, or both. Now we take day trips for the hell of it, admittedly with respects paid to the locals since no one wants to cause trouble. Are we going to stop being local creatures? Probably not. There’s a lot more reasons than just fear keeping the Lost nailed to their home towns, especially since these days the Hedge seems restless and ready to boil over with weird shit. But you know, it’s nice to finally get to know each other. Talk our talks out, swap traditions, make friends. It’s one of the things I missed most from being Average Joe Mk. 1. Now if you’ll excuse me I gotta catch up on the latest from LA. Drama central, that town.

[jacks-unsanctioned-editorials]

Hello World. Quick Question: What the Fuck?

So let’s get the legalese out of the way first. Yes, I’m the same “You Don’t Know” Jack from the newspaper in Maryland. That’s the Alaric News Post, local sheet, does good work, but this? This isn’t theirs. The Post doesn’t endorse this blog, is not affiliated with this blog, doesn’t review this blog, etc, so forth yadda yadda. The thing about being a journalist is you cover news. I want a place to mouth off. So instead of asking my bosses to take the heat by giving me a column or something, the magic of the internet has brought Unsolicited Magic Opinions from me, Random Chucklefuck Darkling, to you, Person Who Can’t Believe How Unprofessional This Prose Is Right Now.

You want me to write pretty, you fuckin’ pay me.

So what is it I’ve got Opinions (patent pending) about, you ask? Like a few people you might have heard of all over the world I recently got kicked out of the magic wardrobe, and everyone’s been feeling ways about that. I know I have. So I thought, you know, there’s interviews and news stories and all kinds of things covering the Lost, and not a lot of the Lost just speaking for themselves. There’s so much to talk about! Changing politics in the Courts, the struggles of Homecoming and the Hedge, misunderstandings about the Wyrd, faith and faithlessness.

Today though we’re gonna talk about dicks.

So, quick obvious thing that I’m going to restate so we’re all on the same page: the Lost go through physical changes as the result of our Durance. Some folks get a little taller, or a little shorter. Some get remade in stone, or get frozen over, or become animal people. There’s this big diversity of form, all of which with its own unique “your life is fucked up forever” charm to it.

And it is none of your fuckin’ business, seriously.

I dropped by a bar the other night and heard someone say she’s always been curious about taking the knot. The guy she was talking to has been back like, a month. He’s got a whole lot to deal with, like building a new life, making sense of Earth again, all the crazy political stuff, laws about magic, how to talk to his family again, and here he is trying to have a drink when some Pixie Chaser goes, “Hey I know you went through something horrific but I’ve got questionable morals that get off on your suffering.” He left that bar in fucking tears. Tears.

The dick thing is a big obvious thing but honestly just about anything could be touchy. Why does this person have a halo around her head? How’s this person who’s on fire take showers? What’s the deal with Bobby being able to unhinge his jaw wide enough to take a bite out of a couch? None of your fucking business.

If you wouldn’t ask a question of an ordinary human, don’t ask it of the Lost. If we’re comfortable, we might talk to you about these things. We might even start the conversation! But just like I won’t walk up to you and ask if you keep your asshole nice and tight, I don’t need you asking about my body. I know your mothers raised you better than that. Manners is still a word I hear around the place when I’m out and about.

Tune in later when we cover something that isn’t dicks. Nice to meet everyone.