#and to see it true and real... its beautiful

[tom-failure]

New Mononoke films are worse

So recently I watched Mononoke.

It happened almost acidentally, beause I randomly stumbled across the Phantom in the Rain (Karakasa) film, and it was so beautiful and so obviously loaded with subtle references and little meaningful elements, that it was enough to get me hooked. I'm a sucker for when a film respects the viewer and treats them as a smart person, not explaining everything to the letter and letting them make their own judgements and derive their own conclusions.

So as the perfectionist/completionist freak I am, I started from the very beginning, from the Ayakashi anthology. I figured that the multitude little references, everything that was going on in every single frame of the film, would be more easily readable and understandable if I immersed myself fully. Then was the original 2007 anime. Honestly, I was shaken. I started watching it admittedly for the striking visuals and for the word 'horror' in the description. And, well, Mononoke isn't a horror in the sense that I'm normally looking for, but it's a different kind of horror, not less, but I daresay MORE rewarding. Mononoke stroke me with the contrast of lush, beautiful art, delightful with its classical style, and the utter minimalism of the story, which was so brilliantly told that it left me shaken for a while.

Mononoke is a sort of everyday, mundane horror, where the terrifying element is the normal people and their everyday lives in the society (honestly I joked that this is the 'horror of being a woman, especially in 19th-century Japan', and, well, it is). Without being didactic or moralising, but with unwavering confidence, the original Mononoke (and honestly the Ayakashi anthology, too) revealed the real horror: hell is here, the demons are around you. On the stunning backdrops of its art, the anime never once romanticised what was happening on screen. While weaving its mystical storylines, it never once said more than was absolutely necessary.

The stoic, detached, yet inexplicably charming Kusuriuri, like a mixture of an insightful therapist and a skilled surgeon, opened up truths, observed them, and then let them go. His character was as fascinating as he was enigmatic, with obviously caring more for the 'demon' souls of the wronged (and maybe the odd woman he wished the best for), but always keeping at a metaphorical arm's length. Honestly, it was good not to know who he was, not to know any story of his, or any of his true feelings. Everything that was truly important, you could already see.

The morals of the stories were also unexpectedly refreshing. I didn't think I'd watch a heavily classically-flavoured anime that would tell me 'selling yourself out for the sake of others is bad' (as a woman, no less!), or 'seeking constant approval and validation will lead to your downfall', or even 'brothels are fucked up places' (incredible to see a non-romanticised view of prostitution in ANY media, to be quite honest with you). And I will reiterate: its study of the treatment of women was extremely interesting. Yes, many women were victims, and yet they were never there to titillate and be ogled. The show was honest about their place in society and what those women's life was like as a result. What it turned them into. How it disposed of them.

Everything was so simple yet so intricate. It kept you looking closely and thinking about meanings. It was also a more or less impartial look at history, especially how women fared. So really, after the anime, I was excited to finally watch the movie from start to finish. I mean, it promised to continue in the best traditions of the anime, set in an absolutely horrifying place rendered in heartstoppingly beautiful art, and followed women trying to find their place in that, again, horrifying world.

And... yeah, the Phantom in the Rain is worse. They cranked the beauty of everything out to the max... but then in the process, they lost the core of what made the story so special, so experimental, so original.

Don't get me wrong, it's stunning. The animation is breathtaking. The visual style is divine. Every single frame is a work of art that you could stare at for days and still not find everything that's hidden in there. But I think in creation of all this beauty, the stripped-down, brutally honest quality of the original story was lost.

The anime was highly successful in striking the balance of making everything beautiful without romanticising. They used the art to amplify the emotions, and those emotions were often far from great, but they were... well, successfully amplified. The original Mononoke was full of creeping disgust and existential terror, and the art tastefully made it that much more poignant.

The film watered down the emotions for the sake of enjoying the beauty, and in that, it also failed in being impartial. It couldn't resist romanticising. It couldn't help admiring. It couldn't stop itself from being self-indulgent. And so, the story, while still impactful, stopped hitting right for the heart and started enjoying itself. And so the sheer horror of the original was lost.

And don't get me started on the new Kusuriuri. And I don't even mean how I immensely dislike knowing his lore, and having his new incarnation be so human. The moment of 'slaying'/freeing the mononoke in the film was the biggest letdown in a while. The unsheathing of the sword in the original anime was not about actually 'slaying' anything, striking anything down. It was a culmination of the next terrible, terrible story that had run its course and that could finally come to its end and lie to rest. And Kusuriuri's solemn way of doing his duty was, paradoxically, much more emotional and impactful without it needing to be a 'fight'. There was no real 'sword', no real 'battle', but those moments were always so hard-hitting. The film traded that for an action scene topped off with a shounen-flavoured 'sorry' that honestly felt cheap. That sealed it for me: I won't be watching the other two. 'Sorry'.

The Mononoke films have lost what Mononoke was about. It feels like the writers had a great idea of how the original *looks* with no idea of how it *feels* and what makes it so impactful. It's a perfect form, but the substance is lacking. I don't know why that is. But I can't shake the feeling. Did the movie have its strong sides? Of course. I liked watching it on its own. But after watching the orginal anime and as a part of the universe, it falls short and feels flat. And the vibrance and overwhelm of its art doesn't save it.

[willyhoos]

metamy is insane. like.

what if i was the hero you loved gone wrong. defeated and destroyed. rebuilt as my own greatest enemy. what if i lost everything. what if i had been reprogrammed to despise all i had once fought for. what if i couldn't even remember why i had fought at all.

and what if you were made of roses. what if you represented every beautiful thing i once died trying to protect. what if you wore flowers in your hair and cared for small creatures and had eyes the color of the forests i used to call my home. what if you were everything i once loved.

those memories are just out of my reach. infuriatingly. maddeningly. but if anyone knows who i am (who i used to be) it's you. if anyone can make me feel like who i used to be (who i really am) it's you. i can't speak, i can't breathe, i can't remember anything (but you).

you are the world i have been ordered to burn. i am the weapon you have chosen to resist. i was (am) the hero that you loved.

you are my only memory.

[phinnking]

i know a lot of people like to make fun of young queer people who use a bunch of microlabels and engage in niche or "cringe" aesthetics but im gonna be so honest, i love them so much. i 100% was that kid and while now i don't really use or think about any of the labels i used back then, that doesn't make that time any less valuable and valid (and it doesn't make someone less valid if they do keep using that terminology into their adult life!). queer kids who are figuring themselves out and are learning about new fun words for genders and pronouns and sexualities deserve to run wild and be loud and happy and not carry and be impacted by the shame that many of us have been taught to hold.

my cousin is a year younger than how old i was when i first realized i was queer and they've vaguely known they were queer for a couple years now. personally, i think that's pretty awesome. recently they've gotten into the very stereotypical scene kid aesthetic and i make a point to compliment them on it every time i see them. almost every time i see them they have a new adjustment as to how they view their gender/sexuality and i always tell them that that's really cool and i give them a hug. recently they told me they have a boyfriend and listed like 3 separate labels as to how he defines his gender and i asked them if i was remembering the definitions of all those words correctly (which i was because, like i said, i was that kid lol).

it's just all these small things that seem so trivial or "weird/cringe" that so many people look down on queer kids for engaging in and i'll never understand it. i think it is so unbelievably cool that these people are figuring themselves out and finding new terms and identities and things that they can be and they're just so excited by it. being excited by queerness is cool! wanting to engage in niche subcultures is cool! allowing yourself to be who you are in that moment without the worrying guilt of having to get it "right" is wonderful and awesome and cool and how it should be!! please do not teach the queer kids to be ashamed of themselves in a time where they should be able to run wild and figure out their identities in a way that truly makes them happy!!!!

[kelpermoosee]

Knocking them over and watching them scramble to get up with those big ass heads

[margindoodles2407]

so here's the deal guys. in the past week i reread my way through prisoner of azkaban, goblet of fire, order of the phoenix, and half-blood prince. i am currently halfway through deathly hallows. and as i was eleven the last time i seriously read harry potter. i forgot that it allows me to unlock secret shrimp emotions that humans aren't normally capable of feeling

[scribesynnox]

I finished reading Victory Conditions by astolat on ao3 and I will never recover. That fic has fuckin’ rewired my brain. It has rocked my world view. It is a core memory now. I will never be the same.

[ribcagebonemeal]

BEATLES '64 PHOTO DUMP BECAUSE I TOOK A GAZILLION SCREENSHOTS!!!!! WHAT A GOOD DOCUMENTARY!!!!! (it's 98% JUST ringo and george though ough)

[aeide-thea]

poäng appreciation post 💛

[lunawlw]

there are people on twitter (and tiktok apparently) that are upset about people drawing mlp characters as people of color and/or fat. which is hilarious to me, because all of the real ones know pinkie is a fat person of color since like 2016

[cartoonrival]

i feel like i should probably just wtch boruto. biggest issue is just that im pretty sure the central conflict is fucking dumb. in addition to the fact that the story's existence depends on the worlds biggest He Would Not Fucking Do That

[ourladyoftheflytrap]

Went to visit stevie last weekend and ofc I visited her mom too bc that's what friends do and her mom saw me and in a super happy and complimentary voice she went "awww, you never stopped looking like a 12 year old boy" 💀

[averageestrogenenjoyer]

Brienne of Frickin' Tarth!!!! best girl!! best girl brienne!!!!

Oh my god oh my god oh my god but thinking about Brienne and how she didn’t reject her femininity by choice but everyone else rejected it for her because she wasn’t conventionally attractive so the only role she felt she could fit in to in society’s eyes was that of a warrior and how she was in love with Renly because he was nice to her and danced with her and treated her how all the other girls her age were treated even if it was just for a night and how she never feels like she fits in as a woman because she’s ugly but she never fits in as a man because she isn’t a man but she can’t go back now that she knows what its like to be free from those constraints but there is still a small part of her that wonders what it would be like if maybe, just maybe… and I just… George had absolutely no right to write a character that good

[ploverbear]

i miss being a construction worker cause honestly a lot of my time on the job i wouldnt do anything LOL but i do genuinely also miss like. the job itself. i miss how a lot of my work revolved around going into empty buildings and go anywhere inside of them. fix them nicely ... whenever there's construction work in the offices and bathrooms and stuff it makes my heart hurt so badly. i love getting glimpses of the utility closets. i always felt like a fly on the wall maintaining an office or building but not really being APART of the culture inside of it yannow. being there transiently

[iwieldthesword]

I need to talk about this because it's making me feel insane.

Last week, my white leftist goyisch friends sat me, a wholeass antizionist Jew, down for a "talk" because they "needed to check in about Palestine" and make sure "our values aligned before we hung out again". They apparently needed to "suss out" where I stood on Palestinian rights, despite having had several conversations about Palestine and them being some of my closest friends. They needed to check, to search for and uncover my true values, because I had said some "disturbing things" that had made them "suspicious".

Disturbing things included:

Supporting IfNotNow which is a "liberal zionist organization" because it normalizes Jewish heritage in the Levant

Not bringing Palestine up enough, despite them also not bringing it up (this was apparently a test)

Mentioning that the Houthi's flag talks about cursing all Jews

Saying Stalin was antisemitic because of the "all the paw-grihms"

...and apparently other things they wouldn't specify, but had been tracking for months.

To clarify, I am an antizionist Jew from three generations of antizionist Jews. I have been vocal in my support of Palestinian liberation and in my condemnation both of Israel's actions and its violent founding as a state, and of zionism in many of its forms. I am a regular donor to Palestinian and Jewish NGOs and advocate for Jewish antizionism in person, at temple, and online. I have been talking about Palestinian liberation before they could point to Gaza on a map. But they needed to make sure, they needed to "suss out", they needed to check. And it's notable that the majority of moments that made them suspicious of me were times where I talked about antisemitism: not about Palestinian liberation, not about Israeli decolonization, not about anything actually relevant to Palestine. It was talking about antisemitism that made them check to see if I was a cryptozionist.

One of the most pervasive and insidious forms of antisemitism is the idea that Jews are inherently untrustworthy and suspicious. You have to constantly be on guard, track what they say and do, "suss out" the real truth. You have to keep them in line and and watch them carefully because they're liars and sneaks, and if you're not looking closely they'll return to their real values (and drag you down with them). This is where the idea of "cryptozionist" comes from and what it's directly building off of: the inherent untrustworthiness of Jews and the need to check. Because no matter how close you become you can't actually trust them, and any upstanding gentile should make sure to avoid associating with Jews before "sussing out" their real allegiances and intentions. You have to make them turn out their pockets, just in case.

I'm the first and only Jew they actually were friends with; I know because they've told me (strangely proud of it in the way white Americans are proud of that kind of thing). They've asked me questions about Judaism and fawned over how beautiful and unique it was for me to be connected to my community and culture. Pre-October 7th, one of them had even mentioned being interested in coming to services at my temple. She still has my copy of our siddur. But now she needed to "check" before she could be seen with me in public. Which is what it was: it wasn't a "you're my friend and I need to give you some feedback because you're fucking up" kind of intervention (which is normal and important to have), it was a trial. It was a last chance for me to prove to them that I'm clean-enough that they could afford to risk being seen with me in public, just in case someone noticed them fraternizing with a hypothetical Enemy and their leftism was compromised. It was a test to make sure that I behave properly when required to, that I'd play along and do what I'm told and turn out my pockets if asked (because any refusal would validate the notion of having something to hide). And above all it was an opportunity for them to reaffirm their own cleanliness by putting my imagined immorality in its place.

I did what I needed to do: I smiled. I apologized. I "didn't know that". I "appreciated the feedback". I turned out my pockets because what else could I do? They'd decided who I was and what I believed, regardless of what I said or did, so there was no point in explaining that they were wrong about me. If I had told them they were being antisemitic, it would just have been proof that they were right. Caring about antisemitism is a dogwhistle in the spaces they've chosen: it's not a real form of oppression, it's a tactic for sneaky, lying Jews to weasel out of admitting their true alliances. There was nothing I could say.

Nothing's really changed for me. I'm going to continue my activism for Palestinian liberation rooted in my culture and my faith. Antizionism is still not antisemitism. But I got a reminder that many white goyisch leftists fundamentally just don't trust Jews, and that the activist spaces they're in not only exacerbate their antisemitism in an increasingly insular echo chamber, but also allow them to finally vent their internalized bigotry in a socially-acceptable way. In my former friends' eyes, what they did was activism—disavowing a Jew (and making me feel humiliated, scared, and unclean in the process) as a cathartic stand-in for doing fucking anything for actual Palestinian liberation—but for me it was a grief that I'll be feeling for a long time: not only over losing friends I loved and trusted, but also over my sense of belonging and security in leftist spaces.

[drchucktingle]

LOVE IS REAL is a simple three word statement but can be pulled apart in infinite ways. it is on my mask, and when buckaroos ask me why, my most common response is 'what else is there?' weve been blessed with a moment to exist and we try on other ideas, but in the end, love is what holds substance

could have said 'love is good' or 'love wins' or 'love is love' and these are all fine ideas i suppose, but TO ME it is kind of burying to lede. for any of these to be true, we are assuming that LOVE EXISTS and the implications of that are so mind bending and powerful that i think its all i need

the grand cosmic curve of existence always bends towards love. it takes some LONG DETOURS thats for dang sure, and theres plenty of turbulence, but what strikes me is that for some reason the finger of fate is out there pressing the scale and THAT IS WILD. THAT IS BEAUTIFUL. THAT IS ALL THERE IS.

some may think this is an inherently religious argument and it is not, unless you want it to be. personally i am not a religious bud, i just see the way that posturing alpha goofs say that violence and hate wins, then i look at nature and see community and grace and love eventually rise to the top

i see the nature of all things pushing back against the endless void, filling it with creation and existence, which thrives on community and love. a big bang filling the empty. mold working together to crawl across stone. fish swimming in a school. humans building a community center. TIME ITSELF

so i think to myself ‘go wild discussing what love is or how to make the most of it' and thats a great talk to have. THATS IMPORTANT. getting out and helping and PROVING LOVE is to wield the power of the universe. but the thing i want on my forehead is the basic level, the square one: LOVE EXISTS

yes, the times undulate between easy breezy and ULTIMATE HELLSCAPE. do not forget this. fight against it. but if you are ever exhausted and you wonder, why am i here? why am i existing? does this matter? remember that LOVE IS REAL and by simply existing you are hoisting the flag of love. WAVE IT

[moonstruckme]

Hiii Mae!!

I'm literally on my hands and knees worshipping your work everyday🫶🏽

Was wondering if you'd consider Poly!Marauders, or any one of them, x Reader who's house is being broken into and they phone one of them or if Reader is walking home alone from a night out with her friends and someone starts following her?

Thanks a lot!!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: man (eek!) (no but actually in the scary way), reader being followed at night. modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 870 words

Anxiety crackles in your fingertips as you dial Sirius’ number. Every ring feels like a year off your life. 

Sirius picks up on the third. “Beautiful,” he says in greeting. 

“Hey.” Your voice is light automatically, reluctant to make things seem dire when they might not be. “Are you busy?” 

“Never too busy for you.” You can hear him moving away from some noise. A television, maybe, or a group of people talking. “You headed home already?” 

“Mhm, yeah. Are you…where are you?” 

“At the pub on King Street. You should come join, James is buying.” 

You hear some playful protest, presumably from down the table. ‘James is buying,’ he says—just invite the whole bloody town, why don’t you? You stop listening as Sirius makes some jibe back. 

Kings Street isn’t far from you. You turn a corner and pick up your pace. 

“Yeah, I’ll come,” you say. “Maybe, um, would you want to meet me halfway?” 

It’s an odd request, coming from you. You practically hear Sirius register this, his chair audibly scraping back and the voices in the background growing quieter as he moves away from them. His tone says it, too. “Yeah, baby, ‘course. What’s up?” 

“I’m okay,” you say swiftly, though you don’t know if that’s strictly true. You don’t feel very okay. But it seems a silly thing to act that way when nothing has happened. “I’m just, I’m…” You lower your voice a tad. “I think maybe this guy is following me? I don’t know.” 

“Following you?” Sirius sounds outside, now, the crowd noise dying away entirely. “Where are you coming from?”

“I’m coming down Dalling now,” you reply, loud enough that the man about twenty feet behind might be able to hear. “Passing Blythe.” 

“Okay, I’m coming. Is he walking close to you?” 

“Not very. It’s probably fine, I’m just…” 

“I’m coming,” Sirius says again. “Stay on with me, yeah?” 

You do, though neither of you speak after that. Sirius’ speaker fills with the rushing of air, like movement, and you suspect if he was listening all he’d hear was your controlled breathing down the line. You’re afraid to look behind you any more than you already have. Occasionally, though, you catch a glance in a storefront window angled just right. You convince yourself your pursuer is gaining. 

You turn the corner onto Kings Street, about to update Sirius over the phone when a figure crashes into you. 

You take in a panicky breath, throat tightening on a scream, as hands land on your shoulders to steady you. Sirius has an odd look on his face, alarm fading to relief in the second before he hauls you to his chest. 

“Sorry.” He sounds breathless, like he’s been running. “I’m sorry. Hi, baby.” 

“Hi.” You clutch at him. You wonder if you might be shaking. “Do you—do you see him? Blue shirt.”

“I see him.” Sirius’ hand splays protectively over your mid back. He keeps you pressed close to him, staring your pursuer down over your shoulder. You know the power of a Sirius Black glare. You’ve never been on the receiving end of a real one, thankfully, but you’ve seen it do its work on occasion. You don’t envy the other man. 

“I don’t know for sure if he was following me,” you murmur. “He’s just been there for a long time. It was making me nervous.” 

“I think he was.” Sirius’ tone is also quiet, though not infirm. “He’s seen us, though, I think he’s about to turn. Just a second, lovely.” He kisses your forehead, his grip never loosening. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, though your hold isn’t easing either. 

Sirius kisses your head again. You feel the breath he lets out fan warmly over your skin. “He turned. He’s gone.” 

You squeeze him impossibly tighter, frantic with relief. You’re definitely shaking. 

“He’s gone.” Sirius gives you a good press before adjusting his hold, keeping his arm around your shoulders but pointing you toward the pub. “It’s okay. Fuck, I’m glad you called. I was scared I wouldn’t get to you in time, but you were moving faster than I gave you credit for.” He rubs the flat of your chest where you’d collided with him. “Sorry for ramming into you.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you chide, keeping practically melded to his side as you walk. “Thank you for coming. Really.” 

Your boyfriend tsks. “Course, sweetness. How’d you end up walking home by yourself, anyways?” His tone turns a bit chiding, the sort you suspect would be worse if Sirius weren’t still feeling sorry for you. “You can always call me, you know that.” 

Sirius doesn’t like when you walk anywhere alone, especially at night. You do it more often than he knows. You might do it a tad less often for a while, though. 

“I know,” you say, contritely enough that he kisses your head again, a truce bestowed. “Just, thank you.” 

“Stop with that.” He pulls you closer to his side playfully. “You don’t have to thank me, you freak. I hope you are ready to tell tales of my heroism, though. I just got up and ran out without saying anything; James is going to have lots of questions.”