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ohgaylor · 9 months

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In 2006, the year Taylor Swift released her first single, a closeted country singer named Chely Wright, then 35, held a 9-millimeter pistol to her mouth. Queer identity was still taboo enough in mainstream America that speaking about her love for another woman would have spelled the end of a country music career. But in suppressing her identity, Ms. Wright had risked her life.

In 2010, she came out to the public, releasing a confessional memoir, “Like Me,” in which she wrote that country music was characterized by culturally enforced closeting, where queer stars would be seen as unworthy of investment unless they lied about their lives. “Country music,” she wrote, “is like the military — don’t ask, don’t tell.”

The culture in which Ms. Wright picked up that gun — the same one in which Ms. Swift first became a star — was stunningly different from today’s. It’s dizzying to think about the strides that have been made in Americans’ acceptance of the L.G.B.T.Q. community over the past decade: marriage equality, queer themes dominating teen entertainment, anti-discrimination laws in housing and, for now, in the workplace. But in recent years, a steady drip of now-out stars — Cara Delevingne, Colton Haynes, Elliot Page, Kristen Stewart, Raven-Symoné and Sam Smith among them — have disclosed that they had been encouraged to suppress their queerness in order to market projects or remain bankable.

The culture of country music hasn’t changed so much that homophobia is gone. Just this past summer, Adam Mac, an openly gay country artist, was shamed out of playing at a festival in his hometown because of his sexual orientation. In September, the singer Maren Morris stepped away from country music; she said she did so in part because of the industry’s lingering anti-queerness. If country music hasn’t changed enough, what’s to say that the larger entertainment industry — and, by extension, our broader culture — has?

Periodically, I return to a video, recorded by a shaky hand more than a decade ago, of Ms. Wright answering questions at a Borders bookstore about her coming out. She likens closeted stardom to a blender, an “insane” and “inhumane” heteronormative machine in which queer artists are chewed to bits.

“It’s going to keep going,” Ms. Wright says, “until someone who has something to lose stands up and just says ‘I’m gay.’ Somebody big.” She continues: “We need our heroes.”

What if someone had already tried, at least once, to change the culture by becoming such a hero? What if, because our culture had yet to come to terms with homophobia, it wasn’t ready for her?

What if that hero’s name was Taylor Alison Swift?

In the world of Taylor Swift, the start of a new “era” means the release of new art (an album and the paratexts — music videos, promotional ephemera, narratives — that supplement it) and a wholesale remaking of the aesthetics that will accompany its promotion, release and memorializing. In recent years, Ms. Swift has dominated pop culture to such a degree that these transformations often end up altering American culture in the process.

In 2019, she was set to release a new album, “Lover,” the first since she left Big Machine Records, her old Nashville-based label, which she has since said limited her creative freedom. The aesthetic of what would be known as the “Lover Era” emerged as rainbows, butterflies and pastel shades of blue, purple and pink, colors that subtly evoke the bisexual pride flag.

On April 26, Lesbian Visibility Day, Ms. Swift released the album’s lead single, “ME!,” in which she sings about self-love and self-acceptance. She co-directed a campy music video to accompany it, which she would later describe as depicting “everything that makes me, me.” It features Ms. Swift dancing at a pride parade, dripping in rainbow paint and turning down a man’s marriage proposal in exchange for a … pussy cat.

At the end of June, the L.G.B.T.Q. community would celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots. On June 14, Ms. Swift released the video for her attempt at a pride anthem, “You Need to Calm Down,” in which she and an army of queer celebrities from across generations — the “Queer Eye” hosts, Ellen DeGeneres, Billy Porter, Hayley Kiyoko, to name a few — resist homophobia by living openly. Ms. Swift sings that outrage against queer visibility is a waste of time and energy: “Why are you mad, when you could be GLAAD?”

The video ends with a plea: “Let’s show our pride by demanding that, on a national level, our laws truly treat all of our citizens equally.” Many, in the press and otherwise, saw the video as, at best, a misguided attempt at allyship and, at worst, a straight woman co-opting queer aesthetics and narratives to promote a commercial product.

Then, Ms. Swift performed “Shake It Off” as a surprise for patrons at the Stonewall Inn. Rumors — that were, perhaps, little more than fantasies — swirled in the queerer corners of her fandom, stoked by a suggestive post by the fashion designer Christian Siriano. Would Ms. Swift attend New York City’s WorldPride march on June 30? Would she wear a dress spun from a rainbow? Would she give a speech? If she did, what would she declare about herself?

The Sunday of the march, those fantasies stopped. She announced that the music executive Scooter Braun, who she described as an “incessant, manipulative” bully, had purchased her masters, the lucrative original recordings of her work.

Ms. Swift’s “Lover” was the first record that she created with nearly unchecked creative freedom. Lacking her old label’s constraints, she specifically chose to feature activism for and the aesthetics of the L.G.B.T.Q. community in her confessional, self-expressive art. Even before the sale of her masters, she appeared to be stepping into a new identity — not just an aesthetic — that was distinct from that associated with her past six albums.

When looking back on the artifacts of the months before that album’s release, any close reader of Ms. Swift has a choice. We can consider the album’s aesthetics and activism as performative allyship, as they were largely considered to be at the time. Or we can ask a question, knowing full well that we may never learn the answer: What if the “Lover Era” was merely Ms. Swift’s attempt to douse her work — and herself — in rainbows, as so many baby queers feel compelled to do as they come out to the world?

There’s no way of knowing what could have happened if Ms. Swift’s masters hadn’t been sold. All we know is what happened next. In early August, Ms. Swift posted a rainbow-glazed photo of a series of friendship bracelets, one of which says “PROUD” with beads in the color of the bisexual pride flag. Queer people recognize that this word, deployed this way, typically means that someone is proud of their own identity. But the public did not widely view this as Ms. Swift’s coming out.

Then, Vogue released an interview with Ms. Swift that had been conducted in early June. When discussing her motivations for releasing “You Need to Calm Down,” Ms. Swift said, “Rights are being stripped from basically everyone who isn’t a straight white cisgender male.” She continued: “I didn’t realize until recently that I could advocate for a community that I’m not a part of.” That statement suggests that Ms. Swift did not, in early June, consider herself part of the L.G.B.T.Q. community; it does not illuminate whether that is because she was a straight, cis ally or because she was stuck in the shadowy, solitary recesses of the closet.

On Aug. 22, Ms. Swift publicly committed herself to the as-of-then-unproven project of rerecording and rereleasing her first six albums. The next day, she finally released “Lover,” which raises more questions than it answers. Why does she have to keep secrets just to keep her muse, as all her fans still sing-scream on “Cruel Summer”? About what are the “hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you,” in her chronicle of self-doubt, “The Archer,” if not her identity? And what could the album’s closing words, which come at the conclusion of “Daylight,” a song about stepping out of a 20-year darkness and choosing to “let it go,” possibly signal?

I want to be defined by the things that I love,

Not the things I hate,

Not the things that I’m afraid of, I’m afraid of,

Not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night,

I just think that,

You are what you love.

The first time I viewed “Lover” through the prism of queerness, I felt delirious, almost insane. I kept wondering whether what I was perceiving in her work was truly there or if it was merely a mirage, born of earnest projection.

My longtime reading of Ms. Swift’s celebrity — like that of a majority of her fan base — had been stuck in the lingering assumptions left by a period that began more than a decade and a half ago, when a girl with an overexaggerated twang, Shirley Temple curls and Georgia stars in her eyes became famous. Then, she presented as all that was to be expected of a young starlet: attractive yet virginal, knowing yet naïve, not talented enough to be formidable, not commanding enough to be threatening, confessional, eager to please. Her songs earnestly depicted the fantasies of a girl raised in a traditional culture: high school crushes and backwoods drives, princelings and wedding rings, declarations of love that climax only in a kiss — ideally in the pouring rain.

When Ms. Swift was trying to sell albums in that late-2000s media environment, her songwriting didn’t match the image of a sex object, the usual role reserved for female celebrities in our culture. Instead, the story the public told about her was that she laundered her affection to a litter of promising grown men, in exchange for songwriting inspiration. A young Ms. Swift contributed to this narrative by hiding easy-to-decode clues in liner notes that suggested a certain someone was her songs’ inspiration (“SAM SAM SAM SAM SAM SAM,” “ADAM,” “TAY”) or calling out an ex-boyfriend on the “Ellen” show and “Saturday Night Live.” Despite the expansive storytelling in Ms. Swift’s early records, her public image often cast a man’s interest as her greatest ambition.

As Ms. Swift’s career progressed, she began to remake that image: changing her style and presentation, leaving country music for pop and moving from Nashville to New York. By 2019, her celebrity no longer reflected traditional culture; it had instead become a girlboss-y mirror for another dominant culture — that of white, cosmopolitan, neoliberal America.

But in every incarnation, the public has largely seen those songs — especially those for which she doesn’t directly state her inspiration — as cantos about her most recent heterosexual love, whether that idea is substantiated by evidence or not. A large portion of her base still relishes debating what might have happened with the gentleman caller who supposedly inspired her latest album. Feverish discussions of her escapades with the latest yassified London Boy or mustachioed Mr. Americana fuel the tabloid press — and, embarrassingly, much of traditional media — that courts fan engagement by relentlessly, unquestioningly chronicling Ms. Swift’s love life.

Even in 2023, public discussion about the romantic entanglements of Ms. Swift, 34, presumes that the right man will “finally” mean the end of her persistent husbandlessness and childlessness. Whatever you make of Ms. Swift’s extracurricular activities involving a certain football star (romance for the ages? strategic brand partnership? performance art for entertainment’s sake?), the public’s obsession with the relationship has been attention-grabbing, if not lucrative, for all parties, while reinforcing a story that America has long loved to tell about Ms. Swift, and by extension, itself.

Because Ms. Swift hasn’t undeniably subverted our culture’s traditional expectations, she has managed, in an increasingly fractured cultural environment, to simultaneously capture two dominant cultures — traditional and cosmopolitan. To maintain the stranglehold she has on pop culture, Ms. Swift must continue to tell a story that those audiences expect to consume; she falls in love with a man or she gets revenge. As a result, her confessional songs languish in a place of presumed stasis; even as their meaning has grown deeper and their craft more intricate, a substantial portion of her audience’s understanding of them remains wedded to the same old narratives.

But if interpretations of Ms. Swift’s art often languish in stasis, so do the millions upon millions of people who love to play with the dollhouse she has constructed for them. Her dominance in pop culture and the success of her business have given her the rare ability to influence not only her industry but also the worldview of a substantial portion of America. How might her industry, our culture and we, ourselves, change if we made space for Ms. Swift to burn that dollhouse to the ground?

Anyone considering the whole of Ms. Swift’s artistry — the way that her brilliantly calculated celebrity mixes with her soul-baring art — can find discrepancies between the story that underpins her celebrity and the one captured by her songs. One such gap can be found in her “Lover” era. Others appear alongside “dropped hairpins,” or the covert ways someone can signal queer identity to those in the know while leaving others comfortable in their ignorance. Ms. Swift dropped hairpins before “Lover” and has continued to do so since.

Sometimes, Ms. Swift communicates through explicit sartorial choices — hair the colors of the bisexual pride flag or a recurring motif of rainbow dresses. She frequently depicts herself as trapped in glass closets or, well, in regular closets. She drops hairpins on tour as well, paying tribute to the Serpentine Dance of the lesbian artist Loie Fuller during the Reputation Tour or referencing “The Ladder,” one of the earliest lesbian publications in the United States, in her Eras Tour visuals.

During the Eras Tour, Ms. Swift traps her past selves — including those from her “Lover” era — in glass closets.

Dropped hairpins also appear in Ms. Swift’s songwriting. Sometimes, the description of a muse — the subject of her song, or to whom she sings — seems to fit only a woman, as it does in “It’s Nice to Have a Friend,” “Maroon” or “Hits Different.” Sometimes she suggests a female muse through unfulfilled rhyme schemes, as she does in “The Very First Night,” when she sings “didn’t read the note on the Polaroid picture / they don’t know how much I miss you” (“her,” instead of that pesky little “you,” would rhyme). Her songwriting also noticeably alludes to poets whose muses the historical record incorrectly cast as men — Emily Dickinson chief among them — as if to suggest the same fate awaits her art. Stunningly, she even explicitly refers to dropping hairpins, not once, but twice, on two separate albums.

In isolation, a single dropped hairpin is perhaps meaningless or accidental, but considered together, they’re the unfurling of a ballerina bun after a long performance. Those dropped hairpins began to appear in Ms. Swift’s artistry long before queer identity was undeniably marketable to mainstream America. They suggest to queer people that she is one of us. They also suggest that her art may be far more complex than the eclipsing nature of her celebrity may allow, even now.

Since at least her “Lover” era, Ms. Swift has explicitly encouraged her fans to read into the coded messages (which she calls “Easter eggs”) she leaves in music videos, social media posts and interviews with traditional media outlets, but a majority of those fans largely ignore or discount the dropped hairpins that might hint at queer identity. For them, acknowledging even the possibility that Ms. Swift could be queer would irrevocably alter the way they connect with her celebrity, the true product they’re consuming.

There is such public devotion to the traditional narrative Ms. Swift embodies because American culture enshrines male power. In her sweeping essay, “Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence,” the lesbian feminist poet Adrienne Rich identified the way that male power cramps, hinders or devalues women’s creativity. All of the sexist undertones with which Ms. Swift’s work can be discussed (often, even, by fans) flow from compulsory heterosexuality, or the way patriarchy draws power from the presumption that women naturally desire men. She must write about men she surely loves or be unbankable; she must marry and bear children or remain a child herself; she must look like, in her words, a “sexy baby” or be undesirable, “a monster on the hill.”

A woman who loves women is most certainly a monster to a society that prizes male power. She can fulfill none of the functions that a traditional culture imagines — wife, mother, maid, mistress, whore — so she has few places in the historical record. The Sapphic possibility of her work is ignored, censored or lost to time. If there is queerness earnestly implied in Ms. Swift’s work, then it’s no wonder that it, like that of so many other artists before her, is so often rendered invisible in the public imagination.

While Ms. Swift’s songs, largely written from her own perspective, cannot always conform to the idea of a woman our culture expects, her celebrity can. That separation, between Swift the songwriter and Swift the star, allows Ms. Swift to press against the golden birdcage in which she has found herself. She can write about women’s complexity in her confessional songs, but if ever she chooses not to publicly comply with the dominant culture’s fantasy, she will remain uncategorizable, and therefore, unsellable.

Her star — as bright as it is now — would surely dim.

Whether she is conscious of it or not, Ms. Swift signals to queer people — in the language we use to communicate with one another — that she has some affinity for queer identity. There are some queer people who would say that through this sort of signaling, she has already come out, at least to us. But what about coming out in a language the rest of the public will understand?

The difference between any person coming out and a celebrity doing so is the difference between a toy mallet and a sledgehammer. It’s reasonable for celebrities to be reticent; by coming out, they potentially invite death threats, a dogged tabloid press that will track their lovers instead of their beards, the excavation of their past lives, a torrent of public criticism and the implosion of their careers. In a culture of compulsory heterosexuality, to stop lying — by omission or otherwise — is to risk everything.

American culture still expects that stars are cis and straight until they confess themselves guilty. So, when our culture imagines a celebrity’s coming out, it expects an Ellen-style announcement that will submerge the past life in phoenix fire and rebirth the celebrity in a new image. In an ideal culture, wearing a bracelet that says “PROUD,” waving a pride flag onstage, placing a rainbow in album artwork or suggestively answering fan questions on Instagram would be enough. But our current reality expects a supernova.

Because of that expectation, stars end up trapped behind glass, which is reinforced by the tabloid press’s subtle social control. That press shapes the public’s expectations of others’ identities, even when those identities are chasms away from reality. Celebrities who master this press environment — Ms. Swift included — can bolster their business, but in doing so, they reinforce a heteronormative culture that obsesses over pregnancy, women’s bodies and their relationships with men.

That environment is at odds with the American movement for L.G.B.T.Q. equality, which still has fights to win — most pressingly, enshrining trans rights and squashing nonsensical culture wars. But lately I’ve heard many of my young queer contemporaries — and the occasional star — wonder whether the movement has come far enough to dispense with the often messy, often uncomfortable process of coming out, over and over again.

That questioning speaks to an earnest conundrum that queer people confront regularly: Do we live in this world, or the world to which we ought to aspire?

Living in aspiration means ignoring the convention of coming out in favor of just … existing. This is easier for those who can pass as cis and straight if need be, those who are so wealthy or white that the burden of hiding falls to others and those who live in accepting urban enclaves. This is a queer life without friction; coming out in a way straight people can see is no longer a prerequisite for acceptance, fulfillment and equality.

This aspiration is tremendous, but in our current culture, it is available only to a privileged few. Should such an inequality of access to aspiration become the accepted state of affairs, it would leave those who can’t hide to face society’s cruelest actors without the backing of a vocal, activated community. So every queer person who takes issue with the idea that we must come out ought to ask a simple question — what do we owe one another?

If coming out is primarily supposed to be an act of self-actualization, to form our own identities, then we owe one another nothing. This posture recognizes that the act of coming out implicitly reinforces straight and cis identities as default, which is not worth the rewards of outness.

But if coming out is supposed to be a radical act of resistance that seeks to change the way our society imagines people to be, then undeniable visibility is essential to make space for those without power. In this posture, queer people who can live in aspiration owe those who cannot a real world in which our expansive views of love and gender aren’t merely tolerated but celebrated. We have no choice but to actively, vocally press against the world we’re in, until no one is stuck in it.

And so just for a little while longer, we need our heroes.

But if queer people spend all of our time holding out for a guiding light, we might forgo a more pressing question that if answered, just might inch all of us a bit closer to aspiration. The next time heroes appear, are we ready to receive them?

It takes neither a genius nor a radical to see queerness implied by Ms. Swift’s work. But figuring out how to talk about it before the star labels herself is another matter. Right now, those who do so must inject our perceptions with caveats and doubt or pretend we cannot see it (a lie!) — implicitly acquiescing to convention’s constraints in the name of solidarity.

Lying is familiar to queer people; we teach ourselves to do it from an early age, shrouding our identities from others, and ourselves. It’s not without good reason. To maintain the safety (and sometimes the comfort) of the closet, we lie to others, and, most crucially, we allow others to believe lies about us, seeing us as something other than ourselves. Lying is doubly familiar to those of us who are women. To reduce friction, so many of us still shrink life to its barest version in the name of honor or safety, rendering our lives incomplete, our minds lobotomized and our identities unexplored.

By maintaining a culture of lying about what we, uniquely, have the knowledge and experience to see, we commit ourselves to a vow of silence. That vow may protect someone’s safety, but when it is applied to works of culture, it stymies our ability to receive art that has the potential to change or disrupt us. As those with queer identity amass the power of commonplaceness, it’s worth questioning whether the purpose of one of the last great taboos that constrains us befits its cost.

In every case, is the best form of solidarity still silence?

I know that discussing the potential of a star’s queerness before a formal declaration of identity feels, to some, too salacious and gossip-fueled to be worthy of discussion. They might point to the viciousness of the discourse around “queerbaiting” (in which I have participated); to the harm caused by the tabloid press’s dalliances with outing; and, most crucially, to the real material sacrifices that queer stars make to come out, again and again, as reasons to stay silent.

I share many of these reservations. But the stories that dominate our collective imagination shape what our culture permits artists and their audiences to say and be. Every time an artist signals queerness and that transmission falls on deaf ears, that signal dies. Recognizing the possibility of queerness — while being conscious of the difference between possibility and certainty — keeps that signal alive.

So, whatever you make of Ms. Swift’s sexual orientation or gender identity (something that is knowable, perhaps, only to her) or the exact identity of her muses (something better left a mystery), choosing to acknowledge the Sapphic possibility of her work has the potential to cut an audience that is too often constrained by history, expectation and capital loose from the burdens of our culture.

To start, consider what Ms. Swift wrote in the liner notes of her 2017 album, “reputation”: “When this album comes out, gossip blogs will scour the lyrics for the men they can attribute to each song, as if the inspiration for music is as simple and basic as a paternity test.”

Listen to her. At the very least, resist the urge to assume that when Ms. Swift calls the object of her affection “you” in a song, she’s talking about a man with whom she’s been photographed. Just that simple choice opens up a world of Swiftian wordplay. She often plays with pronouns, trading “you” and “him” so that only someone looking for a distinction between two characters might find one. Turns of phrase often contain double or even triple meanings. Her work is a feast laid specifically for the close listener.

Choosing to read closely can also train the mind to resist the image of an unmarried woman that compulsory heterosexuality expects. And even if it is only her audience who points at rainbows, reading Ms. Swift’s work as queer is still worthwhile, for it undermines the assumption that queer identity impedes pop superstardom, paving the way for an out artist to have the success Ms. Swift has.

After all, would it truly be better to wait to talk about any of this for 50, 60, 70 years, until Ms. Swift whispers her life story to a biographer? Or for a century or more, when Ms. Swift’s grandniece donates her diaries to some academic library, for scholars to pore over? To ensure that mea culpas come only when Ms. Swift’s bones have turned to dust and fragments of her songs float away on memory’s summer breeze?

I think not. And so, I must say, as loudly as I can, “I can see you,” even if I risk foolishness for doing so.

I remember the first time I knew I had seen Taylor Alison Swift break free from the trap of stardom. I wasn’t sitting in a crowded stadium in the pouring rain or cuddled up in a movie theater with a bag of popcorn. I was watching a grainy, crackling livestream of the Eras Tour, captured on a fan’s phone.

It’s late at night, the beginning of her acoustic set of surprise songs, this time performed in a yellow dress. She begins playing “Hits Different.” It’s a new song, full of puns, double entendres and wordplay, that toys with the glittering identities in which Ms. Swift indulges.

She’s rushing, as if stopping, even for a second, will cause her to lose her nerve. She stumbles at the bridge, pauses and starts again; the queen of bridges will not mess this up, not tonight.

There it is, at the bridge’s end: “Bet I could still melt your world; argumentative, antithetical dream girl.” An undeniable declaration of love to a woman. As soon as those words leave her lips, she lets out a whoop, pacing around the stage with a grin that cannot be contained.

For a moment, Ms. Swift was out of the woods she had created for herself as a teenager, floating above the trees. The future was within reach; she would, and will, soon take back the rest of her words, her reputation, her name. Maybe the world would see her, maybe it wouldn’t.

But on that stage, she found herself. I was there. Through a fuzzy fancam, I saw it.

And somehow, that was everything.

#ooooh my word this was BREATHTAKING and so well-said #because coming out is in fact a very delicate thing #full article here for the tumblr crowd!#taylor swift #articles #new york times #gaylor swift #gaylor #lover #chely wright

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harmonysanreads · 1 year

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Any thoughts about vampire Alhaitham and darling’s first kiss??? 👀

- 🧋 anon

For a creature so cold, his touch sure does burn.

Or perhaps it's just the rush of blood throughout your human body, so easily accelerated by the vampire's presence — the presence that is nearer in multitudes than you recall last, so near that you wonder if your souls would clash, battle and merge together til there's nothing left but the ashes of this fire. As though flickers that promised wildfires left unchecked, not tended to for long, they finally burst forth, gnaw and threaten to consume you whole.

Alhaitham is cruel more so, unkind in letting your mind grasp what led to this or the bold implications behind his impulsive decision and generous in making sure your heart occupies nothing but him. The flames continue to devour til the taste of wine turns to blood, the soft press of lips shift to the sting of fangs, the support of his hand on your back transitions beside your head on the silk sheets and your resolve wavers, nerves in disarray and the world spins.

When he parts at last after what you'd constitute as eternity (not him, as it was but another ephemera that he wished would stretch to infinity), both of you can see the glare of your changing correspondence ; it's apparent that the careful relationship between two different worlds will never be the same. The only variable easing the tremors of shock will be your complete acceptance.

so, basically, he got drunk and.....yeah

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mbti-notes · 6 months

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Hi! I came across this post of yours /post/179222467392/you-once-said-that-you-are-not-a-religios-person and i was wondering what the things are in Buddhist philosophy that u dont agree with? And also how did u manage to tap into the oneness belief? I heard ppl often get there thru ego death by using meditation or psychedelic drugs. Lately I have been into this topic and into getting into that oneness belief and you seem to know a great deal about philosophy!

If you're new here, philosophy is one of my majors. I learned religious philosophy as part of my studies in the history of human thought, so people sometimes ask me about these topics.

- To be clear, I am sympathetic to Buddhist beliefs and I think the religion has a lot to offer people. Buddhist philosophy underwent a lot of change over the centuries as the religion spread through very different cultures. When you dive deep into the scriptures, you'll find some truly wild ideas about multiverses and supernatural beings. It's hard to get on board with those ideas if you are a rational and scientifically minded person.

At this point, there are several different branches of Buddhism that sometimes hold very contradictory beliefs, yet they all still call themselves "Buddhist" (contrast this with Abrahamic religions that splintered three ways). Such contradictions are possible because Buddhist beliefs are almost designed to be impervious to critique. On one hand, this allows for great diversity of thought. On the other hand, it can make the whole thing seem nonsensical.

For example, I don't agree with how Buddhists conceptualize and characterize the human ego. However, as soon as I raise those objections to these Buddhists over here, some Buddhists over there will argue that there are different levels of understanding and many different ways of looking at the ego depending on how far you've gotten in your Buddhist practice. They simultaneously accept and dismiss my objections. Thus, if you want to be Buddhist, you basically have to accept this sort of incoherence and perhaps dismiss it as illusory or the result of small-mindedness.

At the end of the day, whether I agree or disagree with the beliefs is inconsequential, because no objection is really real or pointing to anything permanent. But when all your thoughts and feelings and behaviors can easily be dismissed as unreal, what happens to your life? Whether or not your life is objectively real, it still seems real to you and you have to live it, and the suffering you experience feels real. Can you dismiss it as just ephemera? There has always been an internal debate in the religion about whether one should be apart from or a part of the material world, and I don't think this kind of ambiguity helps people who are already struggling psychologically.

- I guess you could say I came to the belief in oneness first through intuition, then through science, then through philosophy. I think I mentioned before that, as a child, I genuinely believed that everything in the universe was imbued with some form of consciousness (aka panpsychism). It's not an uncommon belief in children because the human mind has a tendency toward anthropomorphism. For example, I would wonder whether stepping on the sidewalk was hurting it. People had to reassure me that if the sidewalk had feelings, its feelings worked differently than human feelings, otherwise, the sidewalk would object in the same way I would to getting stepped on.

Most people grow up and forget about these silly notions, but I didn't. Psychologists say that normal infant development starts at oneness and evolves into individuality. I feel like the world tried to convince me that I'm this separate, discrete, individual being, but I just couldn't believe it. Separation has always felt to me like a very wrong way to be. Who is right, the psychologists or me? I don't know. Maybe a Buddhist would say we're both right and we're both wrong and that neither is seeing the bigger picture.

To me, it seems as though I was born believing in panpsychism because I don't remember a time when I didn't believe it, so there is no actual "origin story" or explanation as to how I came to the belief. If I am capable of consciousness, why wouldn't it be possible that everything else is as well? If I am capable of being conscious of others, shouldn't there be something out there conscious of me? And if consciousness exists everywhere in everything, isn't reality fundamentally relational? In order for these beliefs to stand, I had to possess the underlying belief that everything in the universe is somehow interconnected despite superficial appearances.

Then, I studied science in school and learned that all matter in the universe is made up of the same constituent elements. We are all stardust. At the atomic and quantum level, the boundaries we perceive between objects are difficult to define. As an adult, I studied philosophy and was introduced to the full gamut of human thought and learned that oneness was a key concept in many Eastern religions. Actually, several influential thinkers in the West (such as Jung) were heavily influenced by Eastern philosophy. Philosophical training helped me sharpen and refine my spiritual ideas.

- Yes, some people come to a belief in oneness through psychedelic drugs. Presumably (according to the limited research that has been done so far), these drugs help to "open up the mind" by restructuring it in such a way that expands one's perspective beyond one's narrow everyday ego concerns. Some people call this "ego death", but I don't like that term. As I mentioned above, I don't agree with Buddhist conceptions of the ego, which some secular Buddhists blithely reduce to "ego death = enlightenment". If you read my previous posts on this topic, you'll see why. I don't believe the ego is a bad thing or an enemy to be vanquished. I've seen how aspiring to ego death can go terribly wrong for people. And I've been exposed to different perspectives on ego and believe there are better ideas out there.

#philosophy #religion #buddhism #oneness #ego death #panpsychism #drugs #personal #ask

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is-the-fire-real · 8 months

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judío por elección (part 2)

(part 1.)

My wife and I started searching for a community after a lot of talking. But, technically, we were already looking.

After E died, S gave us charge over a specific set of books. He had told her that it was vital these books go to a synagogue. He preferred it to be a London synagogue. We had no clue which one.

Shoved in with all the different books he had, and we inherited, was ephemera from different synagogues--pamphlets from the 1980s and 1990s, booklets from the '40s and '50s. We started calling and emailing them about these books, because they were pretty important.

They're chumash with a publication date of 1898.

Problem was, we couldn't get any synagogues to respond. The one who finally did said that they had too many books and could not accept any more. They suggested that E might still be honored if the chumash went to a Spanish synagogue.

The community here, as you can imagine, is struggling. Spain has done a real good job at keeping Jews out since the expulsion of 1492. Most groups operate in half-secret: no website, or a website that hasn't been updated in years; no phone numbers. Half of the people we tried to contact never responded. Most of the rest couldn't support our conversion.

One rabbi from Madrid answered us. She made it clear that we'd have to move if we wanted to attend her group. This was expected and crushing. We're poor, disabled, and pretty well stuck where we are. But then she said that there was a brand-new community in a city closer to us, one we visit with some frequency. She introduced us to their leader.

I have the impression that A would be considered a cantor. He is not a rabbi, but he can lead services. He had a few questions about my wife and I's histories and experiences with Judaism. (Those experiences I'll talk about somewhat, but it's difficult to talk about meaningfully while also maintaining privacy, so it'll have to wait.) He wanted to know if and what we were reading. Then he invited us to Shabbat, which they conduct through videocalls.

This group does not have a rabbi, much less a synagogue. Several of the folks who call in for our Shabbat meeting live in a different city entirely. That person talks about experiences with Mossad. I want to get better at Spanish so that I can learn from her.

There's singing (as someone who's seen Ashkenazi services, the Sephardi tradition sounds amazing), of course, and because there's so few of us, A has my wife and I read sometimes for services. The very first thing I got to read was Psalm 23, which has always been one of my favorite works of art... which A couldn't know when he asked me to read it.

I said I'd stumble at lot. He told me to read it slowly in Spanish, that it's better to read slow and correctly than quickly and clumsily. He seemed pleased with my effort.

I was raised Mormon, and the entire approach to worship was very different, in a way I found appealing. My wife said it wasn't that different for them--they were raised mainstream Protestant, so singing and standing/sitting a lot were normal for them.

When we were asked to raise a glass of alcohol, we asked if it had to be wine. (We're bad Spaniards. Neither of us likes the stuff.) A said that as long as it was fermented, it was fine. One attendant had a gin and tonic.

The last time we celebrated Shabbat, we used gay-pride themed glasses and filled them with beer. "¿Qué tenéis?" we were asked.

"¡Cerveza!", which cracked them all up, and the ex-Mossad member talked about how the Orthodox she used to worship with would drink whiskey.

Setting aside the Shabbat has been, overall, easier than I thought it would be. I check HebCal to make sure when the candles should be lit. I do all my household chores throughout Thursday and Friday-daytime. My wife tries to cook as much as possible before the candles are lit, and we eat, talk, and do our video-call service with the community.

Saturday I set aside. I have to keep reminding myself not to work, to consider things done even if they look like they're not.

But onward.

Our little community is fantastic, particularly A. He found out I'm having problems with some of my IDs. He told us not to worry. He knows a lot of people who work immigration and he can help us go to the right office and navigate the Spanish bureaucracy. ("Byzantine" should be replaced with "Spanish".) He's answered all our questions and invited us to events about the Shoah and personally introduced us to people.

They were so welcoming, so open, so not-rejecting-us-three-times (but if you count all the rabbis who told us no, technically, that's more than three) that it shocked my wife and I. We talked beforehand about how the community might want to withdraw, and not trust new converts, given October 7. We found the opposite. Our local Jews seem to feel that our willingness to look at how the world is behaving right now and still say "Your people will be my people" demonstrates our sincerity in and of itself.

On the other hand, when we first met A in person, my wife made a comment regarding his personal safety. He admitted that there was a man in the room with us who's his armed bodyguard. He and his wife do not leave home on business related to the community without their bodyguard.

My wife felt a cold hand creep up their back when they heard that. I was not nearby--I was checking all the exits of the auditorium and calculating where we'd need to sit if we had to flee. There were "pro-Palestinian" protests going on that day and the odds were there wouldn't be any danger near us, but... but...

Several of A's family members are also converting. We will have to travel halfway across the country to a mikveh. There are many medieval mikvehs in Spain, but to my knowledge, there are only two which are actually in use. My wife says we'll have to do a road trip. I immediately think about how "one Sephardi and four converts go road tripping across a country where one of its favorite dishes was designed as a Fuck You to Jews and Muslims" would be a fucking great novel.

Would be? Will be. And completing this branch of the journey with a journey feels right.

Oh, and my favorite A story: he invited us to spend some time with him and his wife after a community meal. We agreed to attend the meal, but had to leave after. "We have a lot of dogs and cats," my wife said, "we have to return and care for them."

"We'd love to have you," he said, "but it's a mitzvah, taking care of animals. Do that instead."

Afterward, my wife stared at me in wonderment and said: "I don't think I ever heard that once in church."

#judaism #jewish conversion #jew by choice #jew in progress #jewish convert #jumblr #spain #sephardim #is-the-fire-real original

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theresattrpgforthat · 1 year

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Hey there! What kind of games do you know of that have trade systems in them? The only real example I'm thinking of is from Ryuutama - there's the economy for buying/selling but items have qualities which certain towns may specialize in and impact journey routes etc.

THEME: Markets and Trade

Hello friend! I have a few different ideas of how one could replicate an economy, although I haven't found anything similar to Ryuutama. Some of these games are solely about trading, while others have a prominent trade system that informs the larger story. I hope you find something here helpful!

Red Markets: A Game of Economic Horror, by Hebanon Games.

In Red Markets, characters risk their lives trading between the massive quarantine zones containing a zombie outbreak and the remains of civilization. They are Takers: mercenary entrepreneurs unwilling to accept their abandonment. Bound together into competing crews, each seeks to profit from mankind’s near-extinction before it claims them. They must hustle, scheme, and scam as hard as they fight if they hope to survive the competing factions and undead hordes the GM throws at them.

This is a game that forces you to make hard choices in the struggle to keep yourself ahead as the world crumbles around you. The dice system is a d10 system with two different coloured dice - one for you, and one for the Market. You’ll be able to sacrifice precious resources to increase your chances of success, and much of your jobs will probably revolve around picking up resources that you can sell for Sustenance, Maintenance and Incidental costs. If you want a game of brutal economics and Zombie horror, this is the game for you. If you want to check the game out before you pay for it, you can always take a look at the Quickstart. If you want even more game options for Red Markets, I’d recommend checking out The Carrion Economy supplement.

Reclaim the Wild, by Eldritch Knight.

The Legend of Zelda: Reclaim the Wild is a freely-distributed tabletop roleplaying system made by fans, for fans, of both tabletop games and of The Legend of Zelda. It was designed from the ground up to enable players to create all new adventures in the world of Zelda, and specifically the hit game Breath of the Wild.

This game is a love letter to Breath of the Wild with very detailed systems for scavenging, crafting, and trade. If what you are interested in is haggling over prices and finding the right resources to be able to make the equipment you want or need, and if you love the Legend of Zelda games, this game might be for you! If you visit the website you’ll also find character spreadsheets, a bestiary, and a crafting supplement, full of systems and ideas to put into your campaign.

Antiverse Trader, by Majcher Arcana.

You are a space trader in the Antiverse! Your goal is to travel around and make as many credits as you can by buying and selling cargo in systems throughout the sector. Make it snappy, though! As soon as three resources are tapped out, the game ends, and you get what you got.

This is a solo game that gives you a few resources to start with, and uses dice to track the value and availability of different goods. You can choose to save your goods for specific trades, or you can use them to activate Special Abilities. Once you have tapped out all of your resources, the game is over. If you like a small game that takes less than half an hour to play and comes with a neat little set of charts to help you keep track of all of your goods, this is a great little game to check out!

Midnight Market, by Ben K. Rosenbloom.

Has THIS ever happened to YOU? {a man stumbles dazed into a market stall, knocking over priceless, beautiful, valuable merchandise]. Fear no longer - your days of navigating confusing and unhelpful stores looking for the perfect ephemera are OVER. That's right - MIDNIGHT MARKET solves all your shopping needs, absolutely FREE!

A fantasy infomercial generator/game of hustling and hawking weird wares. Midnight Market is a quick little game all about trying to convince a Hapless Rube to trade their item for whatever you happen to be selling. This is a GM-full game, in which most of the group will be playing Unsavoury Merchants, while only one player will the the Hapless Rube. This game is short, sweet, and great for roleplaying the haggling part of getting a “good” deal.

Merchants and Monsters, by AndieSanade.

In a world of magic, monsters, and brave intrepid adventurers, you are a merchant! An ordinary honest, as far as everyone knows, merchant. Life’s hard out there for the Non-Perilous Crowd, but you live in this world just as much as any sellsword or sorcerer. So grab your wares, straighten your clothes, and open up shop because you’re gonna make it big or die trying!

This game is all about pleasing customers, from regular bystanders, to difficult customers, to sworn enemies. You will compete with other merchants in the market to out-sell your competition - and possibly even sabotage them in the dark of night! If what you are interested in is the petty politics of the competitive market, this game might be worth checking out.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

The Wildsea, by Felix Isaacs.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #trade

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homenecromancer · 3 months

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Do you know if any of the other maximum ride books had soundtracks, beside school's out forever? Because your post was the first I'd ever heard of it lol

As far as I know, it was only School’s Out Forever that had a soundtrack. There were other promotional materials for other books — such as the “Night Flight” commercial for Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports — but only the one soundtrack.

Honestly there’s a good deal of Maximum Ride marketing ephemera that’s kind of hard to talk about for a couple of reasons: one, I don’t do fandom history stuff that often and my documentation of where I found things is not always good; two, as much as I hate to admit to it, a lot of this stuff went down over a decade (and in some cases almost two decades) ago, and websites vanish over that amount of time.

Like. In 2005 there was a Fang-themed AOL Instant Messenger bot, FlyingFang2005, that you could chat with. There was a soundboard (still works, in a Flash emulator). A couple years later, there are some entries on Fang’s blog that are permanently lost, because they were on the website for chain bookstore Borders, which went out of business over a decade ago. The rabbit hole is neverending.

Sometimes I think “well, I was there, wasn’t I? I remember a lot of this stuff, I’ve seen it all by now!” and then I run across some wild thing I’ve never seen before. Until that copy of the soundtrack popped up on eBay, I had kind of accepted I was never going to find one. (I don’t think a whole lot of copies were ever made, and it’s rare for people to hang on to things like this, especially after this amount of time.)

OK OK anyway. Here are two videos that were made to promote the soundtrack. Both are related to The Summer Obsession.

youtube

#marlowe talks maximum ride #maximum ride #long post #myfeelingshavefeelings

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zorosdimples · 2 months

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there’s this point that you reach in your journey with grief where the sadness cracks you open, leaving a yawning chasm filled with…nothing. pure emptiness. you’ve worked through the five prescribed stages and wrung every possible emotion out of your body; all that remains is a macabre acceptance that everything and everyone you love will die. your life is a timeworn page in the universe’s box of ephemera.

#tw grief #cw death

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jennyboom21 · 9 months

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“It’s going to keep going,” Ms. Wright says, “until someone who has something to lose stands up and just says ‘I’m gay.’ Somebody big.” She continues: “We need our heroes.”

What if someone had already tried, at least once, to change the culture by becoming such a hero? What if, because our culture had yet to come to terms with homophobia, it wasn’t ready for her?

What if that hero’s name was Taylor Alison Swift?

I want to be defined by the things that I love,

Not the things I hate,

Not the things that I’m afraid of, I’m afraid of,

Not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night,

I just think that,

You are what you love.

Her star — as bright as it is now — would surely dim.

That questioning speaks to an earnest conundrum that queer people confront regularly: Do we live in this world, or the world to which we ought to aspire?

And so just for a little while longer, we need our heroes.

In every case, is the best form of solidarity still silence?

I think not. And so, I must say, as loudly as I can, “I can see you,” even if I risk foolishness for doing so.

She’s rushing, as if stopping, even for a second, will cause her to lose her nerve. She stumbles at the bridge, pauses and starts again; the queen of bridges will not mess this up, not tonight.

But on that stage, she found herself. I was there. Through a fuzzy fancam, I saw it.

And somehow, that was everything.

#nyt x Gaylor swift #Gaylor swift x the msm #mainstream media x gaylor swift #gaylor fandom #Swiftgron #Taymily #tily #the New York Times article

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theriaultsdolls · 14 days

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Now Online! "Where the Heart Is" Marquis Auction Weekend on September 28-29, 2024 in Annapolis, MD. Featuring Antique Dolls, Dollhouses, and Childhood Ephemera. In-person, online, absentee and telephone bidding accepted. View DAY ONE: https://theriaults.com/events/event/231/where-the-heart-is-antique-marquis-cataloged-doll-auction-weekend View DAY TWO: https://theriaults.com/events/event/232/where-the-heart-is-antique-marquis-cataloged-doll-auction-weekend

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ephemerasnape · 4 months

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Ephemera Snape x Oswald Tarrington

We met at an Ashwinder camp and it was love at first sight...

Left: Look how he tolerates my presence and has accepted his fate...

Right: I am ready to murder any witch (or wizard) who so much as looks at my Scout.

We're literally inseparable...

@beany122 helped with these

You'll never convince me that our love was only a glitch.

Together forever...

#oswald the ashwinder scout #ashwinder scout #ashwinders #ephemera snape #my screengrabs #photo mode #self ship #self insert #hogwarts legacy mc #rookwood gang

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hallaburger · 4 months

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You are cordially invited...

...to join the Sunflower Ephemera Society!

This is a little pet project I'm starting, inspired by my late cousin, who had a passion for making her family and friends smile with heartfelt notes and cards for every occasion. She instilled in me a love of ephemera and collecting notes and correspondence from loved ones, and I'm so glad to still have some of the letters she sent me. Sunflowers were her favorite (purple and yellow were her favorite colors!), hence the name of this project. We are so caught up in being online that I worry we have forgotten the joy of sending and receiving letters, postcards, photographs... and I want to rekindle that joy!

If you are interested, please check out the survey linked below and complete it. This is rolling admission, so there is no cutoff to sign up! All countries are welcome!

I also have a running wishlist here for supplies, and will gladly accept donations to keep this thing organized and running smoothly here. Donations will be used to purchase postage, support participants who need help with postage or supplies, and support occasional member exclusives like fancy cards and letters (think Bridgerton!). If we grow this thing enough, I would love to do even more with it!

Thank you so much for your interest, and please pass this around to anyone you think may enjoy it! Remember: it's not the contents of the letter that matter most, but the thought to send one in the first place. 🖋️📜🐦‍⬛

#ephemera #letters #letter writing #pen pals #writing exchange #vintage #calligraphy #snail mail #traditional media #(and now for the gratuitous tags)#bridgerton #downton abbey #jane austen #emily dickinson #emily bronte #charlotte bronte #mary shelley

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acertainmoshke · 1 year

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Redoing the Intro One More Time!

Updated 9/30/23

Call me Moshke Palmoni (they/them). I spend as much time as I can writing, but that is not as much as it might be because there's also a lot of life going on right now. I also like to read, knit, collect vintage ephemera, and play with my cat.

General WIP tag list: [your url here!]

Active WIPs:

7 Days for Fae

Coming October 2024

10-year-old Fae is isolated by her disabilities—autism and ataxia—that causes her communication and mobility issues. She doesn’t have any friends her age, and she’s accepted that. She reads a lot and plays pretend in the forest at the end of the street. Her family loves her for who she is and so far that’s been enough. Until, that is, she meets the new kid. His name is Brownie and for reasons Fae can’t imagine he wants to be her friend no matter how weird or awkward she is. When he still invites her over after a meltdown in class gets her suspended for a week, she decides to take a risk and accept. The ensuing adventures are marred only by the other sudden change in her life—an aunt Fae barely knows has moved in with her family. She doesn’t know how to talk to Fae and, worse, refuses to accept Fae’s nonbinary parent’s identity. But since no one else seems to know how to deal with the mess their home life has become, Fae tries—with Brownie’s encouragement—to sort the situation out herself.

Cold Iron

In 1956, Shakatra Zoawin is 40. Or they might be 20, depending on how you look at it. They are a changeling and their aging is kind of weird, but that doesn't matter to them because they have a good life in the subway tunnel with their brother, Kris. Both of them are changelings swapped as infants for human children and then rejected by their human families. Their wits and powerful magic have kept them alive this long, and Shaka is perfectly content to keep going. After they do one little thing to appease their guilt: find the 40-year-old they were swapped for and free her to have her own life in the human world free from servitude in the courts of the Fae. And so begins an adventure that will have repercussions neither of them could have imagined.

Intro posts for the books in this series: Cold Iron, City of Frost, Song on Repeat, and Future Not Found

Character Intro Posts: Shakatra, Kris, Lynn, Tatiana, Liliana, Harry, Doug, Beth, Aaron, Cassie, and Althea

Tag list: @pga-books

Blades of Ice

In the kingdom of Halara, orcs and elms and slimes and centaurs live peacefully side-by-side with humans. Less peaceful is the relationship between Halara and their neighboring kingdom of Eng. The generation-long conflict has drawn in other nearby kingdoms and stagnated artistic and social works. All Aryel ever wanted to do was be left alone to love who they want and practice sparring with their axe, but as a royal child they have responsibilities, namely leading the entire army. There's no talk of ending the war in any way but victory, just as Halara won its initial freedom from Eng 300 years ago, but this endless fighting is getting them nowhere but too many funerals and not enough bread. And then when a familial tragedy leads to Aryel leading both the army and the kingdom, they know they can't balance the tensions and demands of everyone at once and win this war. Something has to give, and they just hope it isn't the entire kingdom.

Backburnered and still-in-planning WIPs under the cut.

Time Traveling Anthropologists

(permanent title coming soon)

Set approximately 2 generations in the future. Esther Dahan has her dream job. She gets to time travel with her new team, and against all historical odds they are there to study ancient cultures rather than do anything violent. Their first assignment is 8 months in the 9th century Jewish kingdom of Khazaria. Everything is going great—illicit romance with a Khazarian blacksmith notwithstanding—until Esther finds a plate that doesn't belong in this time. Curious and suspicious but without enough evidence to involve her boss, she investigates on her own, discovering much more than she planned—and leading to far worse consequences than she could have imagined.

Tag list: @amielbjacobs @kingkendrick7 @moonluringfrost @another-white-hole

To Die Among the Stars:

20 people have been chosen to test the effects of faster-than-light space travel on human minds and bodies. They were taken from prisons, wellness centers, and other areas where near-certain death seemed like a reasonable chance to take. Each have their reasons for being there, and their secrets. Against all odds, the jump to FTL doesn't destroy the ship. But the further away from Earth they travel, the more strange things begin to happen that call the purpose of the experiment into question. And then the impossible: a human distress signal in deep space.

Told from 4 rotating perspectives: Pixel, a semiverbal illegal human modder; Ri, whose body and mind are overloaded with mods; Zippy, a young disabled woman desperate to support her family; and Peppermint, a genetic experiment combining human and cat DNA raised in an isolated lab.

Tag list: @hd-literature

Falling Petals

A multigenerational story about trauma, love, and disability set against the backdrop of one Jewish family. Beginning in the 1920's with Ira Katz, who is brilliant and charming with no understanding at all of tact or why the best way isn't always blunt observations and mean jokes. It follows him as he grows up, marries, and inherits his father's drugstore, and then moves on to following one of his sons, Daniel. Daniel grows up in the 1940's and is naturally gentle, kind, and sensitive, but is treated so harshly for these traits he learns to hide himself away inside and only show emotion in explosive bouts of anger. It follows him through adolescence, college, and marriage, before moving on to one of his daughters, Shoshana. Shoshana grows up in the 1960's and is colorful, young for her age, and full of social panic. None of them know how to relate to each other or survive in a world that each of them see the beauty in but aren't allowed to connect with in their own way. And yet through the pain and confusion, they are full of love. And then everything changes for them with Shoshana's niece, Naomi, growing up in the 1990's, who will not be allowed to see herself as broken.

#moshke writes #writeblr #writeblr intro

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synthetic-ultramarine · 9 months

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Ten Book Reviews

To celebrate the new year I thought I'd do some short book reviews! This is by no means a comprehensive list of everything I read in 2023; I decided to focus on fiction rather than non-fiction for this post, and I slowly trimmed down my list of books to focus on the ones that gave me the most to talk about.

Books I Liked:

Annihilation, Authority, and Acceptance by Jeff VanderMeer There's so much to be said about these books, they really deserve their own post. This series is so characterful, so atmospheric, and so masterful in its use of suspense, dread, and tragedy. Lives up to the hype 100%.

Devil House by John Darnielle John Darnielle reads his own audiobooks, and he's good at it. This book follows a true crime writer as he confronts the consequences of framing people's lives as narratives. It's about haunted places. It's about the often-forgotten potential for cruelty in the storytelling impulse. But most of all it's about the thesis that it's self-defense for a squatter to kill a landlord with a sword. If you like this, Universal Harvester is also good.

The Man Who Was Thursday by G. K. Chesterton I think someone should do an adaptation of this that takes place on tumblr.

Til We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis In this book, C. S. Lewis writes about a woman's struggle against god- no, wait, where are you going, come back! It's a take on the Cupid and Psyche myth from the perspective of the jealous sister, here reimagined as a genuinely concerned sister. Vivid imagery, beautiful prose, and a meditation on the relationship between the human and the divine that I still found interesting as a homosexual apostate. There's some fascinating stuff about the androgyny of God in here. Yes, for real. From Clive Staples Lewis.

Radiance by Catherynne M. Valente This book is overstuffed with concept. It's set in an alternate 20th century where the empires of earth have settled the nine planets, and it's about the film industry, which is based on the moon because the united states never colonized california. The story is a collection of ephemera - interviews, ship manifests, tabloid columns, clips of damaged film - relating to the disappearance of a renowned filmmaker who vanished while working on an infamous lost documentary. Also, space whaling. It's about that as well. Every time I try to describe how I feel about Valente's writing style it comes out sounding like one of those weird perfume reviews. I'll just say I found the prose overwrought at times, but ultimately I'm glad kept reading. The book is packed with mythological references, and while some are quite effective, there are also some that don't really do anything. There's a lot of genre-hopping; the noir sequences chafe against the style of the prose a bit, but the cosmic horror scenes are chilling. What is really good about this book is how thoroughly everything in the alternate-history setting is thought through. It talks about how the long day-night cycle of Venus affects the work of a film lighting technician. It talks about French colonies on Neptune losing radio contact with Paris as the earth passes behind the sun. It confronts the idea of Venus and Mars and Pluto as terra nullius, even though that's a concept some people seem to prefer not to critique. I'm going to be thinking about this book for a long time. If you like Nope, Dark City, or Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, you should read this.

Finna by Nino Cipri Weird, fun novella about two exes who still love each other, wandering through a maze of alternate universes for minimum wage. Portal-esque corporate satire, snappy pacing, and a compelling central relationship. So good.

The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon A beautifully written story about body horror, giant robots, gay sex, religion, mortality, and tenderness. The worldbuilding is intricate, sprawling, and sometimes ambiguous. The relationship between the main character and the love interest is far from the Standard Romance Subplot Structure, it's fresh and very compelling. The in-universe sacred poetry that shows up throughout the book is also very good. I have it on hold at the library for a reread. This book is tragically underrated because they're marketing it to the wrong audience. It's more cronenberg than canva cover. Tor should be selling this to the Annihilation weirdos, not the Red White & Royal Blue crowd. People go into it with the wrong set of genre expectations and then don't know how to react. I'm here to set the record straight: The Archive Undying rules and you should read it. I especially recommend this book to Friends at the Table listeners, since the author is One Of Us and the show is a notable influence.

Books I Didn't Like:

Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty The setup to this book is very compelling: 6 people lived a happy life together, isolated on a spacecraft for decades, until they were all violently killed. New copies of their younger selves wake up in the ship's cloning facility with no memory of last 60 years. One of their future-past selves was a murderer, and the killer's clone inherits their legal culpability. While the high-concept murder mystery is a great idea, the future politics are profoundly unimpressive, and sadly by the end of the book the latter has entirely subsumed the former. There keep being these flashback scenes about cloning politics back on earth - not only are these very politically shallow, they also kill the claustrophobic ship-in-a-bottle atmosphere of a good fucked up space scenario. As an example of the shallow politics: "all major religions" are stated to be intolerant towards clones. Apparently all the sects and denominations of All The Religions are just doing the same thing, as if they are interchangeable with each other. And then there are The Riots, which are portrayed as a political misstep, too disruptive, too loud. And then of course we have the NYC real estate billionaire villain. Florals? For spring? It's beyond me why a locked-room murder mystery would even need a villain who wasn't in the room. There's also a hacking scene I found so absurd that it nearly made me return the book unfinished. Disappointing.

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman Yeah, that's right, I'm gonna talk shit about Neil Gaiman on tumblr. You think you can scare me. old man?! I can't be silenced! Anyway, remember the Sexy Lamp Test? This is the worst failure of the Sexy Lamp Test I've ever seen. The girlfriend that the guy in this book is fighting with his brother over could be replaced by a nice car the brother took for a joyride, and the plot wouldn't change. At least with a car there wouldn't be consent issues.

River of Teeth by Sarah Gailey In the real-life 20th century, there was a proposal by the U.S. government to introduce the hippopotamus to North America as a meat animal. Thankfully, it was scrapped. This alt-history western asks: what would the world look like if they went through with it? It's an intriguingly bizarre premise. Unfortunately, when I made that "your story should have scenes that aren't bioware cutscenes or tvtropes pages" post, this book was one of the reasons why. The dialogue and characters are nothing to write home about, and the plot is just rote. Here we are in a bar fight. Now we are planning the heist. Now we are remembering the tragic backstory. Now the antagonist has double crossed us. The hippos are involved in the plot, but they don't drive the plot in any way that depends on their being hippos. They only really differ from horses aesthetically. The thing that really bothers me about this book, though, is that this story clearly wants to be a modern, progressive take on the western genre, with a queer cast and all, but it doesn't give a single thought to the existence of native americans. There are no native main characters or side characters. Despite being a story about the radically destructive transformation of the north american ecosystem by the settler state, there is not even a single throwaway "the Choctaw are not pleased with the feral hippopotamus situation" line. Radiance gives more thought to the status of native american society in its alternate history than River of Teeth, and Radiance takes place entirely in outer space. Come on now.

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