Getty images / Photo illustration by The New York Times
How to Stay Sane in Brutalizing Times
Contemporary life poses many complex ethical challenges. How do you stay mentally healthy and spiritually whole in brutalizing times? How do you prevent yourself from becoming embittered, hate-filled, calloused over, suspicious and desensitized?
Ancient wisdom has a formula to help us, which you might call skepticism of the head and audacity of the heart.
By David Brooks
Opinion columnist
The New York Times - November 2, 2023
•
1 note
·
View note
Since my brain has been full of SVSSS brainrot lately:
I want a fic where the transmigration mostly fails and Shen Jiu wakes up from his qi deviation as User002 with the goddamn System treating him like he is Shen Yuan. Trashy yellow book what??? No, he doesn't need stats on his fellow peak lords, if he is supposed to follow a plot then he wants to see the script! You wretched floating rectangle, how is he supposed to play along if he doesn't know the source material?!
The stress of having what feels like a very pushy curse or an insanely weird demon inflicted upon him makes him deviate from some minor plot points and he gets punished for being OOC a couple of times until the System takes pity on him and directs him to Airplane bro, with the very clear suggestion that if he can't remember the early arcs of the story - System understands, User! It's very long after all. UwU - he should go and discuss it with the author.
He basically kicks down Shang Qinghua's door in desperation for some clarity and maybe an explanation, right now before he works himself into a stress-induced qi deviation, Shang-shidi. Shang hamster looks at his miserable scum villain, takes a deep breath, brings out all of Shen Qingqiu's favorite snacks that nobody should know about, makes a pot of calming tea and tells him everything.
Shang Qinghua expects Shen Qingqiu to be angry, to rip into him for writing him into this wretched life. And Shen Jiu is angry, but not at Qinghua. His anxious, mousy little shidi who lives his entire life under the looming threat of a horrible, seemingly unchangeable future doesn't look like a god. Shang Qinghua, who does his best to run his peak well and look out for his disciples despite his admittance that in the story the original Qinghua did a shoddy job - he doesn't look like someone who would have put pen to paper and written a tragedy if he knew it would become someone's reality.
And how could Shen Jiu, who has seen people sell their bodies and their very dignity for a cup of stale water, judge someone for writing a very bad yellow book so he can eat? Please. Peak Lord Shen might have developed a very discerning taste in literature over the years, but you can't fill your stomach with artistic integrity, Shang-shidi. Shen Jiu understands.
So they sit and for that first evening, Shen Qingqiu listens to all the differences creeping into the story, Shang Qinghua's retelling of the drafts he abandoned due to peer pressure, the long rambling tangents of the research he's done, even if they never made it into the story. Qinghua is so caught up in having someone to talk to that he doesn't realize that Shen Qingqiu put everything that happened to Qi-ge together, somewhere between the musings about how a sword inspired by kintsugi would be so cool looking, shame that nobody ever sees the thing, and the griping about how much one of his patrons complained about Yue Qingyuan dying without ever drawing his sword.
Later, when the snacks are gone and the tea is replaced with something stronger, he tells Shen Qingqiu about the stories he really wanted to write. About how he shamefully sneaked his dream man into PIDW, just so he could have some small part to himself, and oh, Shen Qingqiu will have to remind him about demon courting practices when they are both sober again, because it sounds like that Mobei prince is down bad for him.
He leaves that night with a newfound determination. Shang Qinghua might be resigned to the whims of his System and the shackles of the Plot, but Shen Jiu didn't burn the Qiu manor down and break his chains to give up so easily. This is his world, his sect, his Qi-ge on the line, and he would sooner wrest control from the System and become custodian of the world himself than let something take away and ruin what is his. He is the strategist of Cang Qiong Sect, there is no situation he can't think a way out of and he has had enough of tragedies.
Before any of that, however, he needs to go and have a good yell at his Qi-ge, smack his stupid face and then curl up in his arms for a good night's sleep. It's long overdue.
683 notes
·
View notes
One thing I really love about Marcille is that despite her deep fear of outliving her loved ones, she never, never let's it get in the way of her making bonds and getting close to people. She loves deeply and strongly and she doesn't try to supress that! She embraces it wholeheartedly! Her friends are so important to her and she's not ashamed or scared of it!
Actually, out of all the characters, I'd say Marcille is one of the ones who care the most about bonds of friendship. She's angry at Namari for leaving after Falin got eaten and holds that grudge up until Namari helps defeat the Undine (and therefore having 'proven' herself). She's shocked and upset when Chilchuck explains his policy of payment and that he's not really here bc of friendship. She puts a lot of focus on the party being a Group Of Friends rather than a team of hired hands dedicated to the specific role(s) they are paid for. Which of course makes sense since she joined the party to begin with because of her friend! To her, the party has always been 'Falin and her brothers' friend group' rather than a hired party. (A little reminder: Marcille was the most recent member when the story starts. She never met the previous members who left so the team of Laios, Falin, Chilchuck, Namari and 'Shuro' is what she's always known it as.)
When she becomes dungeon lord, the thing that manages to snap her out of the Winged Lions grasp is the earnest care and love her party is showing her. Literally 'power of friendship'ed their way through the Lions hold and gave her her clarity of mind back.
And!!!! At the end of the feast right before they're about to attempt to revive Falin again, she says!!! this!!!!
She's ready to accept that Falin might not come back, even after everything. The entire story she's been running away from death, from having to outlive her loved ones (in this case: Falin). But here she is, ready to let her stay dead if this last attempt doesn't work.
And it's not giving up. It's realizing that she did all she could, and that it's okay. Because she still got to meet and be friends with Falin. That time with her might be just a speck in the length of life Marcille will have to live still, but it still happened and that's what matters.
It's not about escaping death; it's about cherising the moments before it.
189 notes
·
View notes
i mean. i get the situation between laudna and orym was delicate. she was upset and under delilah's influence. the hells had a fine line to ride between sussing out wtf was going on and sending her running. they had to support her or be carefully neutral to do that. and that meant leaving orym to defend himself alone, to challenge laudna's actions on his own. i get it. who better to handle it? the guy's got plenty of practice.
still. it would have been nice if at least someone had spoken up to support orym before he felt he had no choice but to back down. before he felt he had to sacrifice his emotions and convictions and safety for the sake of the group and the mission. yet again. as per usual.
it's remarkable how even in a group of seven living in each others' pockets, orym has always felt so fundamentally alone. and for all the heart to heart talks in the rain, how this exchange played out shows that not all that much has changed really. still shouldering the ugly battles himself, doing the dirty work, taking the hits so his friends don't have to. until he just can't anymore.
in the midst of friends and still so alone. deliberately, willingly, so much of it by choice. and somewhere in the back of laudna's mind, delilah laughs and laughs... and waits for her opportunity to strike.
it's his role i guess, he chose it himself. i just really hope it doesn't end up killing him.
116 notes
·
View notes
@theminecraftbee ‘s ficlets about Decked Out eating Tango have been living in my head rent free so here’s a little post-do thing of my own.
-
“The server resets tonight.”
It’s been just over two months since Decked Out finished. Just over two months since anyone has seen or heard from Tango.
Zed knows what happened. Not the details. And he certainly couldn’t explain it to anyone else. But he knows.
And the gnawing feeling of guilt has kept him coming back to the dungeon. Every day.
Decked Out is asleep. Zed can walk through the citadel without a desperate need to throw himself to the ravengers. He can even wander below, into the redstone, without being electrocuted to death. Maybe it’s dead, but Zed doubts it. He knows it’s just sleeping. Eventually, it will wake up. It will be hungry and will lure whoever enters this world into its depths.
Maybe that’s when Tango will wake up too.
Zed won’t be here to see it.
“Who knows when you’ll be able to eat again?”
His voice is quiet but he knows the whole dungeon can hear him. He plays with the clasp on his gas mask. Tango’s storage room, where he lays on the dusty floor, has enough oxygen flowing through it still to allow him to breathe without the mask, though he’s already getting a bit of a headache. He’ll put the mask back on soon. Eventually.
“One last snack?”
He’s offered the dungeon himself hundreds of times these past few months. As a player, when it was live, hoping to spark a bit of his friend’s life back into him. Then after. Hoping for something. For a glimpse of flickering blue flame and wide eyes that had long since given up pretending to see.
There’s quiet.
There’s so much guilt in the quiet.
Don’t worry, Zed. Just a few months. Not too big of a project.
All good here. With level one done, the rest will go a lot quicker.
Yeah, level three got away from me a bit. Level four will be smaller, don’t worry.
Audio needed to be reworked, you know how it is. Soon.
Just tired, lost track of time last night.
Not too much longer now.
Don’t worry, I’ll be back to normal when the game’s done. Promise.
Did Tango know he was lying?
Zed is well aware that what he’s doing isn’t good for him. It’s ironic, how Tango pulled away from everyone, to eventually disappear in this cave. And now Zed’s doing the same thing.
It was always Tango pulling Zed out. Into the sun for a stupid game or a ridiculous project. So it makes sense that without him, Zed can’t bring himself to leave the hole.
“I could break more redstone.” Zed offers the dungeon. “Really get you mad.”
He’d done that. About two weeks after Decked Out went dormant. He hadn’t gotten a reaction at the time. But the next day, everything was repaired.
That had spurred Zed into doing a stakeout. Break some stuff, sit and wait until the dungeon brought Tango out to fix it.
Zed had died down in the redstone, waiting. It hadn’t been a pleasant death.
That’s when Impulse had stepped in, staging his own intervention. But all it had done is make Zed feel more guilty.
An intervention for the guy who failed to do an intervention when Tango needed it most.
See? Ironic.
His head is starting to pound. He puts his mask back on.
“I want my friend back, you stupid castle,” He says through the mask. The dungeon understands him anyways.
He won’t be getting Tango back. He’s known that for much longer than he can admit.
Time passes. His phone dings a few times. It’s just the others. Making preparations. The server resets in just a few hours.
“Was it worth it?” Zed asks. “Not you, dumb dungeon. I’m asking Tango. Was it worth it? Did you make this choice? Did you know the consequences?”
Silence.
“Did you ever consider saying goodbye?”
The thing is? Tango was saying goodbye. In the only way he could. It was in the heartfelt artifacts crafted for each hermit. It was in his own voice, echoing words throughout the dungeon long after his own voice left him. It was in every ounce of the game.
None of them saw it until it was too late.
Zed stands. He has to be at spawn soon. He has stuff to pack. He has his own hole in the ground to say goodbye to.
He takes the long way out. Up into the main room of the citadel.
There’s a small part of him that hopes to see a glint of Tango. That’s what’s supposed to happen, right? A little wisp of blue fire. A soft voice. A gust of wind blowing a loose piece of paper across the floor. Something he can look at and be comforted by.
Nothing happens.
Zed knows that Tango’s gone.
He stands at the door. It’s open just a crack, just like he left it.
The night is clear.
“Goodbye, Tango.”
248 notes
·
View notes