magtudis

[magtudis]

Thoughts on Lucky Day

Going from what my girlfriend said: "It feels like an episode about the writers political views". Conrad is depicted as a downright asshole, like no part of his character is likeable, intentionally so. The problem I have, especially growing up as a man, is that their portrayal of this man is based in a very personal manner, and some of the acting portrays an understanding of his own manipulation. For example, when he gets into the head office and has guns pointing around him, he complains in a super sarcastic manner as if he knows what he is saying is bullshit. My problem with this portrayal is that it strays from the wider social phenomenon of male influencer podcasters who have captured a very real market of men who need guidance and have anger with no real place to put it, but painting out this character as being purely evil really muddies the criticism of the wider social phenomenon.

At the start he does have a sort of tragic backstory, having lost his mother, I think there was a mention of him trying to make it big on his podcast but don't quote me on that, and he was seriously affected by the fact that he had seen these alien monsters and seen this magical blue box no one would believe him about. But at the end, he looses everything that could have made a tragic backstory, and he is unmasked as purely evil. Yet, a lot of the men who get radicalised in these spaces are often the most disenfranchised. Speaking from experience in my younger life, a lot of those I saw become followers of these podcasters were those I knew had gotten treated the worst during their childhood, like really venerable people trying to find a place to put their anger and deeply seated upset at their position.

What the episode did was paint this guy as potentially being someone with a tragic backstory and fitting within this crowd of men who have real issues within their lives that aren't being addressed, and then ripping his 'mask' off and making him out, and by extension the group of men who follow his podcasts or make similar podcasts, as a purely evil group with no redeeming qualities, disenfranchising them further.

As a storyline, the episode was really good with sharp twists in where it was going, however, like Kate, I think the episode went too far in how it called out / 'exposed' male influencer podcasters.

[magtudis]

Bird Flu. A Morbid and Frustrating Inspiration.

A bit of a morbid first post I know, but I want to discuss the evolution of my work and how even though I still carry a deep love for ornithology and our beautiful British birdlife, it will now, until forever, be interlinked with anxiety, as that initial childlike fascination dwindles with the harsh realities you are thrown into when working in conservation and surrounding yourself with a multitude of issues that have a very worrying deadline to meet.

Anxiety is something that remains a constant bludgeoning of the brain to me, like an infection in the bloodstream that just when you think it has cleared in one place, it infects a seemingly unrelated area, so it's natural for me that my awareness of the current state of our declining ecosystems has made a comfortable partnership with the chemical imbalances in my brain.

Though I try my best, as I'm sure a lot of those who are intent on making change and fighting for something do, to keep issues such as the current Avian Influenza outbreak in my mind, your own life will inadvertently get in the way, as is the very nature of being human and you unknowingly slack off from actively supporting a cause. As was the case a few weeks ago when I visited my childhood campsite and my family's caravan in Anglesey.

We quickly accepted the weather being naff with one quick Met Office refresh, as one tends to do with Holy Island's notoriously unruly and unreliable forecast, which for my Mum and Gran meant staying indoors and watching films all curled up, their teas and romance novels slurping and turning in unison. My Granddad is the more adventurous type, he says "There's no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing," which I concur with, but with his eyesight, he politely declined my offer of examining interesting beach stones.

So off I went the pockets of my raincoat and waterproof trousers nice and empty, not stuffed with the usual expired train tickets, earrings and hair clips. I knew the larger beach, a five-minute walk from our van', always had an impressive collection of pebbles brightened by the tide. Squeezing through the kissing gate and scrambling down the jagged rocks embedded in the hillside, I slid down a small sandy dune and was about to leap over the curved deposits of seaweed, when I spotted what I thought at first was a dead lamb, it was only when I gently nudged the covering seaweed it revealed the unmistakable beak of an adult Gannet.

Its eye as you'll see above, resembled that of an eggshell, dry, open and hollow, like the kind you'd find fallen from a tree or left on a plate after someone's lunch, all scooped out. Beautiful sandy feathers with their reflective golden tips plucked and dishevelled from being flung about a tide, after what was likely an exhausted final fall from a colony's cliffside. I cannot stress enough just how large these birds are when up close, the photos don't do it justice and that is what startled me the most I think, this mighty predator, renowned for its incredible diving skills, chewed up and spat out so coldly, from the very place that had sustained its life all this time.

I at the time, wasn't expecting a corpse to be the thing I was examining, but writing this now, I don't know how I didn't. I'd seen Little Egret and Canada Goose corpses strung around the wetlands at home and sobbed myself to sleep at night, frightened all the animals I loved would be wiped out in a matter of years. But they were far away and seeing a thumbprint-smudged blob through my Granddad's Zeiss's behind the glass of an RSPB visitor centre doesn't quite compare to my head being 30cm away from a sun-bleached beak, in complete and utter silence, except for the looped rhythm of the waves. It certainly 'hit home' so to speak.

After taking some pictures I then decided to walk up the rest of the shore, knowing there were likely a few more corpses deposited in the sand, which to no surprise there were, about fourteen Guillemots, a Razorbill and a Fulmar were scattered about and very visible, which still if not enough, were easily locatable from the sound of flies buzzing around some of the last few decaying fleshy bits, I'm sure even my dog with cataracts wouldn't tread on them. I knew these birds likely came from South Stack, and the Gannet, Grassholm Island, I then found it hard not to imagine these birds simply existing, a Guillemot chick huddling against its mother, her beak full of Sand eels, the Razorbill and Fulmar squabbling trying to establish territory on the same ledge and the majestic Gannet, soaring above high tide and making that almighty plunge in to the depths of the Atlantic. Needless to say, I was rather upset.

I try not to let my emotions get the better of me nowadays when dealing with the deaths of wild animals, as I know that culling predators is often a necessary strategy to maintain declining species, and though it is still always tough to see those talons locked ever so tightly round the neck of an unsuspecting chick, I remind myself predators need to eat too. But there's something especially infuriating and depressing about the sheer multitude of dead birds, on what must be no more than 300ft of beach.

It is this combination of emotion and visualisation of an ideal planet that upon reflection I have realised shapes my work, it's all good sitting there trying to write what I think my art represents crammed into a 500-word statement for Uni, but it was only upon seeing that Gannet, a bird which I was fascinated by as a child and have only seen in bird books, finally right there at my feet, only to be that of a disease ridden husk, it not only brought upon those feelings of anger and injustice felt as a conservationist, but an essence of childlike naivety.

This is it? It's unfair! How did this happen? This is how I see one of my favourite birds? Can anyone stop it? How can I stop it?

It is that cycle that leads me to create work, to want to help, to create these pieces, though small (for now), seeing works such as 'Our Carpet Burgeons' birth a small wildflower meadow and watching a Red Admiral sunbathe atop a cornflower, gave back that excitement I felt at 7 years old, holding my Dad's hand and collecting peacock caterpillars to examine in my little bug collector, realising that amongst this bombardment of climate-related tragedy and decay, people can make a difference and that is possible through art. To be happy, create art and enhance ecosystems? That's the dream.

Though my work as a response to the bird flu victims wasn't at all enhancing, to be inspired to sketch a healthy Gannet in a study, it brought me a sense of joy, drawing those healthy feathers, that black mask around it's alert, full eyes, little pieces like these are what motivates me to progress with other larger works. Although for me, as frustration and a desire to change is what inspires work, I've found to never lose sight of joy, no matter how small, as daft as that sounds, it is still incredibly important and keeps me going.

I'll definitely be using the photos of the other dead birds and the Gannet in future works, perhaps in response to the aestheticisation and subsequent capitalisation of the image of 'The Seabird' in home decor and that birds are becoming a 'character', while the very creatures imitated are strung along the beaches these nautically themed houses overlook.

[magtudis]

if you’re gay then you dream of being at least one of these

feel free to replace gay with bi, pan, lesbian, ace, etc.

(and yes i did delete the original poll so i could add the gay vampire option)

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hey everyone i am going for a quick sleep! can you look after my ice cream while i’m gone? thanks!

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hey everyone i am going for a quick sleep! can you look after my ice cream while i’m gone? thanks!

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you never know!

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Sometimes you see a screenshot and you know what must be done. I will not apologize for art.

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[magtudis]

Tuna Mayo in a time of crisis

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this is so so important to me and mine, and I'm asking you to Do Something so I'll respect your time and keep it brief

in the UK, if 100k sign a a government petition it will be brought to Parliament and debated. y'all know this country is suffering from some 80s-style bigotry right now, and this is one symptom: almost 200k fuckholes have come together to force the government to discuss whether it is 'appropriate' to tell children that queer people exist. this is a big symbolic victory for them. and i am burning with fury.

please, if you're from the UK, sign this counter-petition so they can at least see how much of a minority they are. simply put, the attempt to put these bastards in their place isn't gathering enough steam. there are barely 2000 more signatures now than there were this morning (27th January 2023), and that isn't enough. i refuse to let these people feel even a moment of victory or satisfaction. please help.

[magtudis]

x

[magtudis]

Nature's finest dish! 'I made a tuna sandwich this morning, stupid thing didn't eat it'

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The most delish sandwich money can buy

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The mushroom-tuna uprising

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The mushroom-tuna uprising

[magtudis]

Tuna Mayonnaise: one of the most coveted British delicacies amongst the youth