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phroyd · 3 years

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One of our Great Comedians leaves us this day! Rest In Peace, Jackie! - Phroyd

Jackie Mason, whose staccato, arm-waving delivery and thick Yiddish accent kept the borscht belt style of comedy alive long after the Catskills resorts had shut their doors, and whose career reached new heights in the 1980s with a series of one-man shows on Broadway, died on Saturday in Manhattan. He was 93.His death, at Mount Sinai Hospital, was confirmed by the lawyer Raoul Felder, a longtime friend.Mr. Mason regarded the world around him as a nonstop assault on common sense and an affront to his sense of dignity. Gesturing frantically, his forefinger jabbing the air, he would invite the audience to share his sense of disbelief and inhabit his very thin skin, if only for an hour.“I used to be so self-conscious,” he once said, “that when I attended a football game, every time the players went into a huddle, I thought they were talking about me.” Recalling his early struggles as a comic, he said, “I had to sell furniture to make a living — my own.”The idea of music in elevators sent him into a tirade: “I live on the first floor; how much music can I hear by the time I get there? The guy on the 28th floor, let him pay for it.”

The humor was punchy, down-to-earth and emphatically Jewish: His last one-man show in New York, in 2008, was titled “The Ultimate Jew.” A former rabbi from a long line of rabbis, Mr. Mason made comic capital as a Jew feeling his way — sometimes nervously, sometimes pugnaciously — through a perplexing gentile world.“Every time I see a contradiction or hypocrisy in somebody’s behavior,” he once told The Wall Street Journal, “I think of the Talmud and build the joke from there.” Describing his comic style to The New York Times in 1988, he said, “My humor — it’s a man in a conversation, pointing things out to you.”“He’s not better than you, he’s just another guy,” he added. “I see life with love — I’m your brother up there — but if I see you make a fool out of yourself, I owe it to you to point that out to you.”He was born Yacov Moshe Maza in Sheboygan, Wis., on June 9, 1928, to immigrants from Belarus. (Some sources give the year as 1931.) When he was 5, his father, Eli, an Orthodox rabbi, and his mother, Bella (Gitlin) Maza, moved the family to the Lower East Side of Manhattan, where Yacov discovered that his path in life had already been determined. Not only his father, but his grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great-grandfathers had all been rabbis. His three older brothers became rabbis, and his two younger sisters married rabbis. “It was unheard-of to think of anything else,” Mr. Mason said. “But I knew, from the time I’m 12, I had to plot to get out of this, because this is not my calling.”

After earning a degree from City College, he completed his rabbinical studies at Yeshiva University and was ordained. In a state of mounting misery, he tended to congregations in Weldon, N.C., and Latrobe, Pa., unhappy in his profession but unwilling to disappoint his father.Hedging his bets, he had begun working summers in the Catskills, where he wrote comic monologues and appeared onstage at every opportunity. This, he decided, was his true calling, and after his father’s death in 1959 he felt free to pursue it in earnest, with a new name.He struggled at first, playing the Catskills and, with little success, obscure clubs in New York and Miami. Plagued by guilt, he underwent psychoanalysis, which did not solve his problems but did provide him with good comic material.Nevertheless, he found it hard to break into the nightclub circuit in New York — in part, he claimed, because his act made Jewish audiences uncomfortable. “My accent reminds them of a background they’re trying to forget,” he said.

While performing at a Los Angeles nightclub in 1960, he caught the attention of his fellow comedian Jan Murray, who recommended him to the television personality Steve Allen. Two appearances in two weeks on “The Steve Allen Show” led to bookings at the Copacabana and the Blue Angel in New York.Mr. Mason’s career was off and running. He became a regular on the top television variety shows, recorded two albums for the Verve label — “I Am the Greatest Comedian in the World Only Nobody Knows It Yet” and “I Want to Leave You With the Words of a Great Comedian” — and wrote a book, “My Son the Candidate.”

After dozens of appearances on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” Mr. Mason encountered disaster on Oct. 18, 1964. A speech by President Lyndon B. Johnson pre-empted the program, which resumed as Mr. Mason was halfway through his act. Onstage but out of camera range, Sullivan indicated with two fingers, then one, how many minutes Mr. Mason had left, distracting the audience. Mr. Mason, annoyed, responded by holding up his own fingers to the audience, saying, “Here’s a finger for you, and a finger for you, and a finger for you.”Sullivan, convinced that one of those fingers was an obscene gesture, canceled Mr. Mason’s six-show contract and refused to pay him for the performance. Mr. Mason sued, and won.The two later reconciled, but the damage was done. Club owners and booking agents now regarded him, he said, as “crude and unpredictable.”

“People started to think I was some kind of sick maniac,” Mr. Mason told Look. “It took 20 years to overcome what happened in that one minute.”His career went into a slump, punctuated by bizarre instances of bad luck. In Las Vegas in 1966, after he made a few ill-considered remarks about Frank Sinatra’s recent marriage to the much younger Mia Farrow (“Frank soaks his dentures and Mia brushes her braces,” one joke went), an unidentified gunman fired a .22 pistol into his hotel room.A play he starred in and wrote (with Mike Mortman), “A Teaspoon Every Four Hours,” went through a record-breaking 97 preview performances on Broadway before opening on June 14, 1969, to terrible reviews. It closed after one night, taking with it his $100,000 investment.He also invested in “The Stoolie” (1972), a film in which he played a con man and improbable Romeo. It also failed, taking even more of his money. Roles in sitcoms and films eluded him, although he did make the most of small parts in Mel Brooks’s “History of the World: Part I” (1981) — he was “Jew No. 1” in the Spanish Inquisition sequence — and “The Jerk” (1979), in which he played the gas-station owner who employs Steve Martin.Rebuffed, Mr. Mason set about rebuilding his career with guest appearances on television. His new manager, Jyll Rosenfeld, convinced that the old borscht belt comics were ripe for a comeback, encouraged him to bring his act to the theater as a one-man show.

After attracting celebrity audiences in Los Angeles, that show, “The World According to Me!,” opened on Broadway in December 1986 and ran for two years. It earned Mr. Mason a special Tony Award in 1987, as well as an Emmy for writing after HBO aired an abridged version in 1988.

“I didn’t think it would work,” Mr. Mason said. “But people, when they come into a theater, see you in a whole new light. It’s like taking a picture from a kitchen and hanging it in a museum.”In 1991 Mr. Mason married Ms. Rosenfeld, who survives him. He is also survived by a daughter, the comedian Sheba Mason, from a relationship with Ginger Reiter in the 1970s and ’80s.“The World According to Me!” generated a series of sequels — “Politically Incorrect,” “Love Thy Neighbor,” “Prune Danish” and others — which carried Mr. Mason through the 1990s and into the new millennium.He published an autobiography, “Jackie, Oy!” (written with Ken Gross), in 1988. He also found a new sideline as an opinionated political commentator on talk radio. In the 2016 presidential campaign, he was one of the few well-known entertainers to support Donald J. Trump.Mr. Mason’s forays into political commentary caused him trouble. He was reported to have used a Yiddish word considered to be a racial slur in talking about David N. Dinkins, the Black mayoral candidate, at a Plaza Hotel luncheon in 1989. Mr. Mason was a campaigner for Mr. Dinkins’s opponent, Rudolph W. Giuliani. Mr. Giuliani said the incident had been blown out of proportion but nevertheless dismissed Mr. Mason from the campaign. Mr. Mason at first refused to apologize but did so later.

He drew attention for using the same word regarding President Barack Obama during a performance in 2009.Appearances on the cartoon series “The Simpsons,” as the voice of Rabbi Hyman Krustofski, the father of Krusty the Clown, confirmed his newfound status, and earned him a second Emmy. Not even the 1988 bomb “Caddyshack II,” in which he was a last-minute replacement for Rodney Dangerfield, or the ill-fated “Chicken Soup,” a 1989 sitcom co-starring Lynn Redgrave that died quickly, could slow his improbable transformation from borscht belt relic into hot property.“I’ve been doing this for a hundred thousand years, but it’s like I was born last Thursday,” Mr. Mason once said of his career turnaround. “They see me as today’s comedian. Thank God I stunk for such a long time and was invisible, so I could be discovered.”

Michael Levenson contributed reporting.

Phroyd

#rip #jackie mason

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cygnahime · 5 years

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FFX Relivebloggening Part 3

Meanwhile, back in Kilika...

What was Dona intending by coming back to the Cloister? She was apparently looking for Yuna, and it's not like she knew Tidus wasn't an official guardian. Did she finally think of a comeback and actually have the guts we all wish we had to actually go back and say it? The Kilika Cloister of Trials is always the hardest for me. Every time, I forget a step or get one out of order. This time I forgot which type of sphere needed to go into the pedestal for the Destruction loot. Tidus, as usual, is the only one who finds the fayth creepy. Also, "willingly" may be a stretch - or an outright lie. It's not like there are release forms on file. They seem relatively chill with it now, but then again, they are also asking for help with dying. I'm not talking to Lulu as much as usual, because I want to keep my affection with her low. It's odd, coming off playing Tales of Symphonia where Colette gets a massive affection boost at the start, that it's so easy for the canonical romance to not be the person you get the optional dialogue with. At least for me, it's usually Lulu. (It's because she has so much interesting dialogue in the early game. I often go straight to her to chat, and up goes that affection value.) It's not that Tidus craves being the center of attention, exactly, but he's used to it, it's part of the world-as-he-knew-it, and seeing everyone focused on Yuna reminds him of how that's not the way anymore. I always save like crazy on this boat ride, because I will get the Jecht Shot. Tidus is learning to take the easy route of saying he's toxin-brained, but Yuna has never taken the easy route in her life and doesn't mean to start now. She's also...the only person in the world who actively says she believes in Tidus and his Zanarkand. (Also, flirting again. That's how people flirt, right? Say they'd like to see your home and stuff?) (Tidus definitely wants to flirt back, but unfortunately, well, "As if I had a place to show her.") It's possible to miss that conversation with Yuna entirely, or not go up the stairs to listen to Wakka and Lulu. I did the former last time I played, so I made sure to do it now. Lulu wants someone to complain with, but Wakka's too easygoing to get a good kvetch session going with. I don't entirely blame her; a lot is happening, and she's under a lot of stress what with Yuna's impending death and all. "Be discreet." Lulu, this is Wakka you're talking to. No, that's not fair, Wakka can be discreet...ish...sometimes. "Sin just takes everything away from us." And of course he's not just talking about their parents, but about Chappu, and Yuna, and everyone else they've lost or are expecting to lose. An NPC says "Sin's attacked Besaid so many times I lost count"; they've probably lost friends then too. And back to Jecht, as I flex my proto-QTE fingers. This is a straight-up memory, and he does not come off well, even though I think he's...trying, or upset that he doesn't know how to try. I think Jecht is the kind of father who thinks he must be doing okay because he's not hitting his kid the way he was hit. He doesn't realize that emotional damage also fucks people up. One reset later: meanwhile, Tidus has recognized more fully that the way he was treated was wrong, and his response is to avoid it in how he treats others. In contrast to Jecht saying no one else could do the Jecht Shot, Tidus says, "Anyone can do it if they try." Even though in blitzball, only Tidus can in fact ever learn the Jecht Shot. I checked. Yuna remembers a lot about Jecht for someone who was seven - but then, she was probably trying as hard as she could to remember the last time she would ever have with her father. All this time, and so few people have ever known that guarding a High Summoner is a death sentence. Yuna still assumes gossip would have told her if Jecht were dead - and Auron, even though neither of them have been seen in Spira since Braska died. Tidus feels like something bad's going to happen. Buddy, this is Spira. Something bad is always going to happen. Tidus is so happy to finally be in a place with a lot of people. He's a city boy at heart. I really love the announcers; they make the world feel so lived-in and "normal". I love patter like that. I mean, I also want to glare at them for badmouthing my Aurochs, but you know. Different parts of the brain like different things. Introducing: the Zombie Space Pope! And not one of your modern popes, either. One of your serious kingmaker popes. Although, I guess he's just fully king, since the maesters appear to be the holders of all temporal power in Spira as well. (Except for the Al Bhed.) Nothing will ever make Seymour's clothing make sense. Nothing. Somehow, Seymour could tell that Yuna's a summoner in the midst of the crowd. At least, he seemed to zero in on her very intently. Creep. When I was a kid, I thought he was creepy, but I didn't have a sense of the age difference. As a 30-year-old, someone who's around 27 professing interest in a 17-year-old is double creepy bad. I mean also he's planning to use her death to destroy the world, but. You know. There is only one Auron, Tidus. No one has double names in fiction. It's against the rules. The Psyches Tidus talks to definitely understand him, but pretending not to means they don't have to respond to people, especially if they're rude. Yuna is clearly angling to hold hands here, and Tidus just does not notice. "Hey what if you whistled for me like a taxicab?" "...Not what I had in mind but okay." (Of course they manage to make this heartrending later.) To Tidus, this is "a pretty big town"; to Yuna, this is a city, the second-largest in the world. Cultural context is everything. Yep, Tidus, you thought you were famous before. Back there, there were still plenty of people who didn't care about blitzball. Here, it's this or studying scriptures. Forever amused by how the building they walk into is clearly labeled, "Bar", while the building next door is labeled "Cafe". Maybe there's a reason you didn't find Auron there... I assume Yuna got "kidnapped" by someone overhearing her asking about Auron, saying they knew where he was, and leading her off. I assume she was too polite and didn't want to kill anyone, or she could definitely have Valefor'd them to smithereens. (Maybe a Silence Attack was involved. Does Silence cut off summoning?) Don't ask about blitzball physics. Or biology. Or...anything, really. Just destroy your opponents. Was claiming to be holding Yuna hostage for the game a cover to avoid admitting that they were really kidnapping the summoner for her own good? Seems weird. I have to assume the "Psyches" in this game are ringers relying on "all Al Bhed look alike", because there's no way the Aurochs got that many goals on Nimrook at level one without their best forward. Lulu just fucking. teleports onto the boat. She has no feet and therefore cannot jump. Among my favorite exchanges in this game: "I hope you hurt them." "A little." There's definitely something to be said about Yuna being mixed-race with the complicated way actual mixed-race people are treated in Japan (and the US, for that matter). Buttttt I am not the person to say it. I'll just gently whisper that Yuna is matrilineally Space Jewish. One of Lulu's flaws that she has to get over during the game is that she's dealing with her grief over Chappu by comparing everyone, especially Wakka, to him. Maybe Chappu was a better blitzer than Wakka, or would have been fine after having what I assume are several cracked ribs from illegal tackles, but the fact that Lulu says it in no way means that it's true. #WakkaDefenseSquad2k19 That said, what Wakka has to get over is his racism. Which is obviously a much bigger issue. It seems almost benign here, since it was in fact Al Bhed who just attacked Yuna, but...it gets worse. I'm probably going to have to see this cutscene several times. But I will be victorious. I am, however, impressed that Lulu can catch Wakka when he collapses (Yuna plz heal his ribs) without going down with him. He's a big guy and most of it is muscle. And the inscription actually says, "To the memories of childhood - farewell," which is particularly touching and, of course, sad. If this were fencing, a decent referee would give Bickson a black card for unsportsmanlike conduct. (For those of you who are unaware, a black card means you have to leave not merely the event but the venue. Non-participants such as coaches can also be black-carded.) First try: kept the score tied 2-2 in the first half, got Tidus the requisite level so he can use Jecht Shot. Got off a Jecht Shot early in the second half and kept the Goers from scoring until Wakka came in. Aaaaand I got Wakka the ball at the four-minute mark for our fourth goal and victory! I AM SUPREME! I'm not saying I would have realized I was gayce a lot sooner if not for that FMV of Auron slipping his arm out of his coat, but I'm also not not saying that. So cool! Auron is not cool. This is an important fact to know about him. He seems cool, but internally he is panicking 50% of the time and sad and gay the other 50%. But I was a teenager and didn't know that competence is fake actually. Spiran ecology count: another dog, happily observing the Aurochs' farewells. Speaking of said farewells, they're kind of unnecessary as I will be getting Wakka back on my team the very second I have an opportunity. Tidus is...not entirely wrong about this all being Auron's fault. I mean, on a macro level it's not since he's just doing the best he can with this shitty situation, he didn't create the situation, but on a micro level he definitely did toss Tidus into Sin's magic traveling sphincter. Like, this was definitely in the plan, although it goes much better than he has any right to expect - he was probably expecting to pick up Tidus and Yuna separately, not find them already buddy-buddy. I really respect Auron for telling the protagonist some facts at least earlier than your average protag gets to know what their father has become. Which is a chronic protag problem. He's also gently patting Tidus on the back, which is about the limits of his emotional support skills. He tries, but... Auron, when he's done being a cagey bastard, correctly identifies Lulu as the One To Talk To if he wants to receive information. She has the map, the color-coded notes, and the safety pins stuck to the inside of her purse. She's the big sister I wish I could be. "I understand. I think." Tidus does not understand, because Yuna is deliberately not telling him the important part: she needs to practice smiling when she's sad about how she's going to die soon and people are so encouraging and happy to see her do it. And now, the scene that everyone loves to make fun of. Look, people, it's not bad. If the ha-ha-ha were supposed to sound like normal laughter, that would be comically bad, but it's not. It's a couple dumb trauma babies fake-laughing badly until they give themselves the giggles while their friends watch in confusion! "I want my journey...to be full of laughter." She may not have much time, but Yuna wants to pack in as many good things as she can, while she can.

#Final Fantasy X #FFX #Cygna Fantasy X

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ayellowbirds · 6 years

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Keshet Rewatches All of Scooby-Doo, Pt. 23: “A Tiki Scare is No Fair"

("Scooby-Doo, Where Are You", Season 2 Episode 6. Original Airdate: 10/17/1970)

AKA, "Adventures In Culturally Insensitive Tourism"

This is the sole episode of Season 2 of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! that has no musical chase segment, and the episode feels like it really drags in comparison. The content doesn’t help much. Read this recap bearing in mind that i’m an American of mostly Ashkenazic ancestry, and so i was raised with a lot of white privilege. If i make any missteps in criticizing the episode’s handling of Hawaiian culture, let me know.

The scene opens to soothing music with an evening view on an active volcano, the music transitioning into Aloha Oe as the view transitions down to a Hawaiian village where Shaggy, Scooby, and one “John Simms” are enjoying a luau. The scene is presented in the same terms Shaggy and Scooby are experiencing it: tourism aimed at a mostly white audience. Although there’s faux-conversational background noise, none of the locals are heard to speak—not to the gang, not to one another, and barely even when the episode’s villain appears. Only two Hawaiian character gets any lines, and it’s near the very end of the episode.

Shaggy’s first line sums up the attitudes informing this scenario.

After its illegal annexation as a US territory to appease the interests of white settlers, Hawaii had been a US state for barely more than a decade before this episode aired. American tourist culture—that is, white American ideas about what Pacific culture is like, filtered through the experience of tourism and material indulgence.

Mr. Simms snaps a photo of Shaggy stuffing his face, mentioning that it’ll be great for his newspaper, and Shaggy shares his gratitude for Simms taking the gang on a tour. The episode is kind of vague as to whose dollar funded the trip; if Simms brought the gang, his reasons are never brought up, and it seems more likely they arrived by other means and that the arrangement with Simms is about being shown the sights.

In fact, Shaggy mentions plans for the following day: visiting the “ancient village of a lost tribe”, a plan the rest of the gang came up with that isn’t part of the tour Simms is conducting.

Simms warns Shaggy and Scooby that the village is haunted, and advises them to just stick to the tour and enjoy themselves.

Then the drums start.

A poorly-animated man slides in from offscreen, stammering, “ghost drums!”

A trio of drums decorated with faces throb and pulse alone on the sand like abandoned personal massage wands, and ominous clouds move in around the volcano. The light over the whole scene turns red, and in an explosion of smoke, a masked figure appears.

I found it odd that, when mentioning this scene later on, Shaggy insists that Simms was present when this “witch doctor” appears, but he’s actually vanished when the villain shows up to declare that everyone present is “on the forbidden ground of Mano Tiki Tia!”

Now, “tiki” is a word indelibly merged with the concept of island culture in the American consciousness, most egregiously in the form of gimmicky lounge/bar drinks served in cups poorly imitating traditional carvings. It’s from a Maori word, meaning “figurine”, and as far as i’m aware, doesn’t actually mean anything in Hawaiian (though they are related languages, so maybe there’s a cognate i’m unfamiliar with). “Mano” could be any of several words depending on how you accent the vowels when writing it in English; it could mean “shark”, a source of water, or “a vast number of things”.

It’s more likely that Joe Ruby and Ken Spears just made it up to sound “Hawaiian”.

The costumed villain (who, unsurprisingly, will turn out to be a white man) vanishes, and the villagers, Shaggy, and Scooby panic. Scooby and Shaggy are separated in the confusion, and Shaggy finds himself alone.

The action cuts to the Pineapple Parlor, where Fred and Daphne dance to a jukebox while Velma kvetches about Shaggy and Scooby’s idea of fun. Remember what I was saying about the indulgent American tourist culture? The episode began with luau number 48.

Shaggy arrives in a panic, knocking down the door and surfing it across the floor to tell the others what happened in sentence fragments that don’t really communicate anything. “Shaggy, get ahold of yourself,” Fred advises.

The gang take the Mystery Machine back to the site of the luau, Shaggy and Velma arguing about “scientific facts” versus the things Shaggy saw with his own gullible eyes. As the gang arrive, Velma catches sight of an old man sitting by a statue.

The gang get out of the van, and Velma suggests asking him, but to her surprise, he’s vanished before the others could see him. Just as quickly, a “ghost drum” appears, bouncing towards them, and circling the Mystery Machine as they gang try to hide... only to flip over and reveal that Scooby was hiding underneath it.

The gang want to find Mr. Simms, but Shaggy is reluctant, until the incentive of another luau is dangled before him. I really need to affirm that the tourist-centric concept of the luau is inauthentic, and stands as a symbol of the whole repackaging, rebranding, and sale of Hawaiian and broader Polynesian culture to white people. Shaggy’s appetite for luaus goes well beyond his usual gluttony and makes him into a living avatar of American imperialism, here motivated to save lives only by the prospect of more parties.

While searching, the gang find a newspaper with articles by Simms. They can tell this because the page Velma is reading is shown to have the name John Simms written across the entire top of the page, less of a credit and more of a headline or title for the paper itself. It also has the worst typeface choice ever made for a newspaper.

The gang want to investigate further, intending to follow the tracks into the “jungle” (guay de mi, am i glad that word is vanishing from the English lexicon), and Scooby needs convincing to use his nose to follow the scent.

This is probably the single most uncomfortable image of Fred Jones that exists, and i’m including things that can only be described with the words “rule 34″ in that.

Naturally, Shaggy falls for the temptation, and scarfs down the Snack and gets to sniffing on all fours. Scooby follows suit, reluctantly, and we get another glimpse of the old man, watching from the bushes. The gang catch sight of him and flip out, and he laughs to himself as they flee.

Seriously, though, how strong is Velma Dinkley? Get this girl into some weightlifting competitions. This particular formation hooks Shaggy and Scooby upside-down on a tree branch opposite some similarly-posed bats, evidently drawn by someone who couldn’t be zoinksed to look it up and learn that there’s only one species of bat native to Hawaii. The boys flee from the menacing red-eyed, red-eared grey-black bats and—we get another transitional wipe! Are they here to stay?

When the gang literally run into each other again, they wind up at the feet of a giant statue, which Velma identifies as the figure of Mano Tiki Tia from the newspaper article. They’re in the “haunted” village, strewn with human skulls and ominously sharp carvings. As the gang look around, the giant statue rotates at its base, and its eyes open to watch them.

Somehow, they don’t notice this.

They do notice the witch doctor, who chases them in the direction of a large building that is evidently still seeing use, complete with a rotating trick wall. Shaggy and Scooby are left on the outside, as a snorting shadow—very clearly a boar—approaches, and Shaggy is forced to heft a “club” in self-defense.

...what? The boar jumps out of the underbrush, followed by two piglets, bowling Shaggy over. Meanwhile, Velma drops through a trap door, and winds up in a cavernous dungeon where she spots Mr. Simm’s horribly tacky hat. She hides, just as the Witch Doctor enters, but her haypile hiding place triggers a sneeze and she has to run.

The boys recover at the feet of the statue, where Shaggy for some reason has the utter gall to ask if Scooby is really afraid of ghosts. As Scooby gives the obvious, honest answer, a voice booms:

“MANO.... TIKI... TIA!”

Shaggy looks up to see where it came from.

Mano Tiki Tia is the biggest “monster” the gang face by far, and unless i’m misremembering things, will hold onto that status for a good long while.

He’s also really obviously mechanical, and as he gives chase, the camera lets the viewer plainly see the creaking wheels moving his feet over the ground. Hiding from him leads the boys to reunite with Velma, and the trio flee the Witch Doctor into a nearby building where they attempt to barricade the door, forming a chain to pass furniture across the room.

I’m pretty sure this is the first time we see this particular gag in Scooby-Doo, though it’s going to repeat plenty of times in the future.

A brief glimpse of Fred and Daphne’s wanderings reveals another sighting of the old man, and the scene cuts back to the chase.

You know, usually the disguises involve them throwing something else on over their clothes. This is one of the most obvious times that they would have needed to strip and throw on something else, and i really feel like that’s time that would be better spent running.

Even more astonishingly, this disguise works, and the Witch Doctor is totally fooled as “Tarzan�� directs him towards “boy, girl, and dog”.

Meanwhile, Fred and Velma find a genuine clue:

A table half-covered with pearls and oyster shells. Another transitional wipe later, we get one of the few exchanges that suggest the gang have a sense of real danger, as Shaggy complains “my feet are killing me,” and Velma responds:

“It’s a good thing we slipped the Witch Doctor, or that wasn’t all that would be getting killed.”

Not that the Witch Doctor ever shows any signs of being armed or in any way capable of hurting the gang, but... wow.

A moment later, Scooby spots a small wrecked airplane. It looks like it’s overgrown with vines—plastic, Velma notes—and there’s a laughing skeleton at the controls... manipulated by a tripwire Shaggy sets off, linked to a tape recorder hidden under a nearby shrub.

Emboldened by the realization that it’s a fake, Shaggy uses the skeleton for some prop comedy. “Hey skinny, do you know why the skeleton went to the library? To bone up on a few things!”

Shaggy laughs at his own joke, and then the skeleton, which is no longer connected to the tripwire and tape recorder, starts laughing as well. I’ll save you some wondering before the end: this sequence gets no explanation whatsoever as part of the villain’s scheme, and is not referenced after it concludes. We never find out how the fake plane crash plays into things, or what caused the skeleton to laugh again.

The trio book it (that’s another library joke), and run into Fred and Daphne. The transitional wipes see heavier use as the gang continue to investigate, chasing the old man into an underwater cavern that leads back into the haunted village, and another encounter with the Witch Doctor and Mano Tiki Tia.

The Witch Doctor alternates between ominous declarations in a faux-aged falsetto, and guttural, animalistic growling, both provided by the diverse talents of the late John Stephenson, who also lends his voice to Mano Tiki Tia. The only reason i don’t complain about this casting (the many flaws aside, the showrunners had already demonstrated that they understood the idea of casting nonwhite characters with appropriate voice actors, and this was back in the dang seventies) is that both are eventually revealed to be white dudes.

Trapped between a rock and a nutcase, the gang flee into some nearby huts. The Mano Tiki Tia statue demonstrates some decent dexterity and considerable strength, lifting up the entire small houses from the ground to look for the gang as if it were a shell game. The kids, of course, are not hidden under any of the huts, but are instead clinging desperately to the rafters of one.

The chase sequence is one of the few in which the gang seem to face a real, immediate threat of harm if caught, with Mano Tiki Tia’s fists slamming pitfalls into the ground. The contrast between the desperate nature of the chase and the many gags involving Scooby and Shaggy responding inappropriately actually make the whole scene work better, as the jokes break the tension of the action and the chase makes the jokes seem fresh rather than a constant stream. Even the canned laughter can’t quite spoil it.

Eventually, Shaggy and Scooby work together to improvise a disguise that actually scares off the Witch Doctor, shambling out of the brush as a kind of “leaf monster”. Fred’s inspired to frighten the villain even more, and formulates a trap that involves a “trick amusement park mirror from the Mystery Machine” (the what and why do they have that?) being placed to frighten the Witch Doctor right into a concealed pit.

Once again, Shaggy and Scooby foul things up in a way that catches the villain anyway, winding up on top of Mano Tiki Tia and blinding the statue so that its attempts to snag them capture its master, instead.

The statue crashes, and Fred unmasks the Witch Doctor:

Mister John Simms?

Somewhat thankfully, the horribly racist caricature villain turns out to be white American in disguise. And the statue of Mano Tiki Tia?

How many parade floats you know that can punch holes in the ground, Velma?

Fred and Velma conclude that Simms set up the whole thing to scare villagers and tourists away so he could poach the lucrative oyster beds for pearls. “Right, Mr. Simms?”

Jinkies, not even a “meddling kids”?

As fir the old man, he appears and reveals himself as...

Um, never mind what i said about appropriate voice casting. Lt. Tomoro is unmistakably Casey Kasem putting on his more authoritative voice, sounding almost exactly like his performance as the heroic but paranoid Cliffjumper in the Transformers cartoons.

Tomoro, like Inspector Lu before him, reveals that he’d been on this case “for a long time”, and that the gang have solved the case for him—so he treats them to their final day of vacation in Hawaii.

The gang enjoy some more dancing, Scooby steals Shaggy’s poi, and the episode ends with the visiting white teenagers and their dog having saved the day by interfering in an ongoing investigation where the locals failed to accomplish anything.

What a great message. I’d like to say the franchise gets better about this kind of thing, but, well, it’s going to be up and down for a while.

That said, there’s only two more episodes of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! to go... maybe we’ll see if in the New Scooby-Doo Movies?

(like what i’m doing here? It’s not what pays the bills, so i’d really appreciate it if you could send me a bit at my paypal.me or via my ko-fi. Click here to see more entries in this series of posts, or here to go in chronological order)

#scooby doo #KRAOSD

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sinkingorswimming · 7 years

Text

My Boy Builds Coffins (3/? aka Mortician Yuuri and Goth Victor)

“Victor glides into his office thirteen minutes late, Wayfarers on, velvet lapels billowing, and “Friday I’m In Love” sung in a low whisper.

“It’s Wednesday,” calls the bitter and world-weary child intern Yuri Plisetsky. “Also I’m revoking your Goth card.”

“The Cure is technically Goth,” calls his CFO/CPA Chris Giacometti. Chris has a blond undercut and leans more towards jewel tones as he’s firmly a winter. “Though I mean, maybe not that specific song.”

Victor smiles at him as he opens the door to his office. The space is industrial and minimalist save for the decor choices---velvet sofas with sleek lines and an aubergine chandelier commissioned by a hipster artist Victor saw on display in SoHo.

If Yuri hadn’t interviewed in a suit, Victor wouldn’t have hired him because the lemon-yellow leopard print he sports upends the curated aesthetic.

Georgi, who depending on how well his partnership with ladylove Anya is going, matches or not. When they’re well, he’s more in bright colors and Halsey. When they are having strife, he’s in grays and Lana del Ray. Right now there’s murmurings of Anya wanting to explore romantic anarchy so he’s kind of somewhere in between.

Victor fell into a google and r/relationships hole for two hours to make heads or tails of “romantic anarchy” before he gave up and contemplated suggesting Georgi put them on a break. Call him old fashioned but being an Elder Goth with a lifelong partner and their herd of fabulous poodles sounds much preferable.

The lifelong partner in this fantasy now represented by a stunningly beautiful man with coal-black hair, glasses, and warm eyes the color of a fine piece of cherry wood. Victor wakes up his iMac and blares baroque styled love songs by long-gone cult artists.

“Oh my God,” cries Mila as she comes into the room in all her lipstick-lesbian glory. She’s the rare redhead that works the hell out of pink, choosing to do so today in a dress she got from Mod Cloth on sale and a pair of gold heels. “What did you do? Who is he?”

“He’s named Yuuri,” Victor says with a grin. “He wears mostly black, drives a hearse, and likes Dragon Frappucinos.” His eyes twinkle at her. “Annnnd he’s meeting me for lunnnnchhhhhh. Pookkeeeee bowlllllssss!”

Mila laughs and grins. “Sounds like you should be playing ‘At Last’ instead of...” she trails off as she walks around the desk to look at his Spotify. “’You Are the One’ by Shiny Toy Guns.”

“I contain multitudes,” Victor huffs. “And he is perfect. I want six.”

“Six what?” Mila asks as she unlocks the company iPhone.

Victor gives her a blank look. “Six...Yuuris? One for every day and one for the weekend? Duh.”

Mila sighs and laughs at once. “God. Young love.”

Victor pouts as she exits his office with a chirp of congratulations.

He wants to Postmates bagels and cream cheese or maybe fancy doughnuts because he’s in such high spirits when Chris knocks on his open door. “Got a few?” he asks. He’s wearing his glasses today, round metal frames akin to John Lennon that are both chic and outdated, a warm emerald shirt showing off his wushu and pilates toned chest, and a pair of dark jeans.

It’s fairly casual at Living Legend Enterprises. Victor is only so formally attired because of the chance to see Yuuri again. Generally he lets them wear whatever, he doesn’t care as long as they aren’t unwashed or overly sloppy.

Yuri mentioned possibly dying streaks in his hair, and Victor cheerfully said for him to go for it. He only cares if it’s ugly.

“Yes, Chris,” Victor says. He lowers the volume of his music.

“Well,” Chris says. “I’m reviewing our budget, end of the fiscal year thing. And...I think it’s okay to bring one another full timer on board. That deal with the wineries in Napa is gonna help us out for a long time, and we can handle the overhead without much risk.”

Victor smiles. “Amazing! Get with Mila for the ad.”

“Of course,” Chris replies. He winks, his glasses making it cute but also roguish. “We’ll run the finer points by you for qualifications.”

“Since they’re a second Georgi, just follow his,” Victor says. “It’s neater.”

“Makes sense,” Chris says with a nod.

“Let me know when we have viable applicants, so the three of us can kvetch over who to interview,” Victor says. “No LinkedIns without photos. I mean it.”

Chris gives him a saucy face as he exits.

Victor gets approximately 100% jack shit accomplished. He’s too busy mooning over Yuuri’s beautiful face, his slighty soft round cheeks, the flecks of amber in his brown eyes, the careful messiness of his hair. He’s so cute and perfect. Victor can’t wait for lunch.

Fortunately, at 1:09 Yuri comes in unannounced. “Ugh, there’s some square here in a suit with my name, says he’s picking you up for some kind of dorky bs.”

“It’s lunch, Yuri,” Victor says as he rockets out of his seat. He fixes himself in the full length black framed mirror. Ah yes. 10/10 would date, heckin’ handsome.

“Whatever,” Yuri grumbles. “The guy is a pocket protector and a math book short of being shaken down for his lunch money.”

“Does that still happen?” Victor wonders.

“Nah, it’s a lot worse and meaner, too,” Yuri responds. “Regardless, that geek you ordered from Amazon Now has arrived.”

Victor rolls his eyes. When he enters the lounge, he sees Yuuri perched on the midnight blue velvet chaise thumbing through Nylon on the iPad. His suit jacket rests over the arm, and his dress shirt’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His forearms are nicely toned. His light blue tie is horrendous. “Hiii,” Victor coos.

Yuuri looks up and adjusts his glasses. He’s cute, rosy cheeked and with a bashful smile. “Hi, Victor. Ready?”

“Born ready,” Victor says.

Yuuri flushes deeper and clears his throat. “Walk or drive?”

Victor spots that Yuuri managed to get rock star parking. The cafe is a half a block. “Walk,” he says though he longs to ride in that fabulous hearse. It’s not fair for Yuuri to lose prime parking real estate. Victor takes the jacket and hangs it in their black wardrobe. He reaches out and takes Yuuri’s hand in his.

“Come with me,” he says with a bright smile.

Yuuri hesitates but lets Victor escort him down the sidewalk to The Ramen Bar. It’s crowded but not so bad they can’t manage the wait, and when they get a table, Victor orders a Boozy Boba for himself. Yuuri gets a Lychee Oolong tea with rosewater jelly.

“Do you not drink?” Victor asks. He’s curious, not picking.

“Not during the work day,” Yuuri replies as he sips his tea. He swirls the straw around clockwise five times. “I don’t want to risk forfeiture or suspension of my license.”

“License,” Victor muses. His index finger touches his lips. “Sales? Insurance? Cosmetology?”

Yuuri bites his lip, and Victor wants to do the same, tug on the plush pink skin with his teeth while he wrecks Yuuri’s hair and shirt collar. “Um, well...my family has a funeral home. It’s been ours since my grandparents immigrated here. My father owns it now that they’ve passed, and my sister and I will be the joint owners when he retires with our mom.”

Oh. Oh wow. Victor’s more in love than he has been his entire life ignoring the first moment NorCal Poodle Rescue introduced him to a puffy brown puppy he now calls Makkachin.

Makka gets his ears dyed pink or purple every time Victor has him groomed.

“That’s so amazing!” Victor exclaims. “What a cool line of work. I’m so intrigued.”

Yuuri stares at Victor as if he’s never been told anything like that in his life. Actually, it’s more like he’s staring as if Victor just informed him he’s suffering from upside-down face disorder.

“Really?” Yuuri squeaks.

They order their food---Victor gets the poke trio bowl, Yuuri the octopus by itself. It’s far too warm for ramen or anything hot to eat.

“Yes! I’ve always found funerals calming. There’s something soothing about them, especially the religious ones. Like Catholic funerals with all the Latin rites. I don’t know. I don’t want people to die---” Victor is careful to clarify. “But the actual ritual of grief and letting go...I find it quite lovely.”

Yuuri keeps staring, eyes wide and bright like a startled cat. He cracks the knuckles on his index fingers. Yuuri fidgets a lot, Victor notes. He also looks at Victor when he thinks he won’t notice, and turns his eyes away when he’s caught. It’s cute, like he’s a schoolboy with his first crush. At least, Victor hopes.

Victor rests his chin on his right hand. He unabashedly stares at Yuuri, his eyes focused on him intently to catch every movement. Yuuri avoids his gaze as he licks his lips, his cheeks staining like someone brushed a wash of red watercolors over his skin. Victor watches him run his hand through his hair, though it just falls back how it was, and he swallows as he meets Victor’s eyes.

Their food arrives and before Victor can break the silence, Yuuri breaks apart his chopsticks and digs in. He’s elegant and careful when he eats, Victor notes. Almost meticulous, but then his occupation requires attention to a lot of fine detail. Why should his eating habits be different?

Victor can’t help but wonder if it extends to sex. He really wants to know, he thinks as he breaks apart his own chopsticks and selects a piece of tuna for his first bite.

Yuuri washes down his food with a sip of the tea. “Um---” he starts. “Well. No one’s ever...people tend to not care for my work.”

“Narrow minded simpletons,” Victor responds without looking up. He can feel Yuuri’s eyes on his face as he combs through his bowl for the next morsel.

“And...you’re right,” Yuuri says. “Funerals are supposed to reassure the ones you leave behind. They’re supposed to enable you to say goodbye, let go, and move on. Sometimes when someone comes to us, like a wife grieving a husband of fifty years, they have a really hard time. They can’t make choices or even fully grasp the situation. It’s my job to help them make sense of it and voice their love out loud one last time.”

Victor looks at him. “That’s beautiful,” he replies.

Yuuri smiles, though his lips are closed. It’s sweet without being sickening, and Victor gives him an expression that amounts to a heart eyes emoji.

They finish their food, and with a refill in a to-go cup for Yuuri and a new non-boozy drink for Victor, he pays their bill. They stroll back to the office, and Victor halfway reaches down and entwines their fingers.

Yuuri chokes on his drink, stumbling, and almost taking them both down hard on the pavement. Victor manages to save the day as he tugs him back, but Yuuri lands half clutching Victor’s blazer. He blinks up at him and Victor’s blue eyes widen a bit in awe as they stare at each other.

Yuuri blushes again and Victor can’t stop, won’t stop, as he kisses him just a centimeter away from his lips. Yuuri gasps. “Oh.”

Victor pulls away. “Please,” he says. “May I have dinner with you soon? Somewhere with white tablecloths and----”

“Yes!” Yuuri blurts. He coughs. “Um. Yes.”

Victor is pleased. Victor is so pleased that right outside his office he pulls Yuuri close a second time and after wrapping his hands in his hair, he kisses him for at least ten minutes by his estimation. Yuuri kisses back with skill and equal amounts of affection, his hands clinging tight to Victor’s biceps like he thinks he’ll become a bat and fly away.

God Victor loves bats.

What Victor does not love is his entire staff cat-calling them and pounding on the glass windows of their office front. He actually didn’t even know Mila’s voice could pitch that high, and of particular note in terms of obnoxiousness is Georgi blaring “Young and Beautiful” from Yuri’s desk.

Yuuri breaks the kiss and hides as best he can behind the recycling bin a few feet away. Victor glares at his staff, sending them scurrying away like roaches. He pulls Yuuri out of the not-subtle hiding place and walks him inside to get his blazer. He puts it on him, Yuuri holding out his arms after a moment’s confusion, and Victor may or may not get a bit frisky with his (strong, corpse-lifting) shoulders.

Yuuri faces him and he hands Victor a white business card with an austere typeset. “Here.”

It’s his card with his information, like Victor gave the day before.

Yuuri runs his hand through his hair. “Um...call me. Whenever. I’ll go to dinner.”

He bites his bottom lip and exits, though when he pushes the door open he turns, opens his mouth, and closes it. Victor watches him go to the point where he sees the hearse disappear into the rest of the FiDi.

He looks at the card and grins.

#mortician yuuri #office goth victor #victuuri #yuri on ice #yoi fic #victuuri fic #here there be smooching

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ebenpink · 5 years

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Postpartum Body Image: Primal Perspective http://bit.ly/2VriNox

Today’s post was inspired by a question that came in from a reader who is struggling with depression and body image issues after having children. I asked my colleague Dr. Lindsay Taylor, being a psychologist and a mother herself, to step in.

Having witnessed all the wondrous changes that women’s bodies go through during and after pregnancy with my wife Carrie, I’d like to add my support and encouragement to my readers who struggle with these issues.

This post is for all the mamas and mamas-to-be who are struggling with the ways in which their bodies have changed, grown, stretched, and been marked by pregnancy. For you mothers who have suffered a loss, I see you, and you are included here.

It’s really a shame, but not a surprise, that so many women are plagued by negative body image around pregnancy. A strong predictor of negative body image during and after pregnancy is negative body image before pregnancy. Body image is, of course, something so many people struggle with every day, women in particular. Volumes have been written about the ways in which our cultural standards of attractiveness, media and social media, and social factors conspire to make us feel unattractive, unworthy, and dissatisfied with our bodies. That doesn’t need to be rehashed here.

Then when you’re pregnant, you and everyone around you is hyper-focused on your body. Are you gaining the “right” amount of weight? Eating the right things? Moving in the right way? Strangers are commenting on your size and shape, and probably touching you too. (PSA: Don’t do this.)

Some women love this time and revel in the changes their bodies undergo. Other women feel completely alienated from and even disgusted by their bodies. Probably many women feel different and conflicting emotions at different times. No matter what your experience has been, let me assure you that it’s normal. The whole gamut of experiences is normal and valid.

If you feel confused, conflicted, sad, disappointed, or discouraged about the ways your body has changed because of pregnancy, it’s OK. Your body is different, your relationship to it is different. There is no right or wrong here. My goal for today is to help if you do feel distressed by persistent feelings of negative body image and self-worth after pregnancy. It needs to be addressed. Poor body image correlates with symptoms of postpartum depression (it’s not clear that one necessarily causes the other, but some data suggest that poor body image predicts later depression). This can interfere with your relationships with others, including your partner and, very importantly, your baby.

Sometimes when we talk about this, the first reaction is, “Great, I already feel like &%$! about myself, and now I feel worse because my feelings are going to mess up everything.” That’s not it. Most of all, you simply deserve to feel good about yourself. You deserve to have peace with your body. You don’t need to waste your precious mental energy on tearing yourself down. For many women, their postpartum body image issues are extensions of lifelong feelings of insecurity. Let’s interrupt the cycle now.

Accepting Your Postpartum Body

Most people who want to change how they feel about their bodies take the approach of trying to change their bodies. This rarely works. Postpartum bodies (and bodies in general) often don’t respond how we want, and anyway many of us have constructed ideal body images in our minds that aren’t realistic.

If you want to change how you feel about your body, you should be working on how you feel about your body. There is a lot of well-meaning messaging in the meme-o-sphere about how you should love your body, but I prefer to start with appreciating your body and practicing self-compassion and self-care. If you’re ready to jump right to self-love, by all means go for it! However, this can feel daunting for some women who are stuck in a cycle of self-deprecation and even self-loathing.

The first step in all this is acceptance: accepting the fact that you probably can’t control the size and shape of your body right now, not like diet culture tells you that you can. Yes, there are some women who “bounce back” and flash their postpartum abs in magazines and on Instagram, but they aren’t the norm. Your body is in recovery. If you’re nursing, it’s focused on continuing to keep another human alive. You probably aren’t sleeping, and you might be finding the transition more stressful than you anticipated. Even months or longer down the road, these can still apply. This is hardly the ideal scenario for controlled weight loss.

Moreover, the truth is that your body probably won’t look the same ever again. Even if you go back to wearing your pre-pregnancy clothes, your shape will likely be different. You’ll probably be sporting some new stretch marks. The idea that you can and should “get your body back” is unrealistic and unfair for most women. (Health is something different here.) Your body has done something new and fabulous. It’s not the same body it was.

It’s O.K. to feel sad about that at first. It’s O.K. to mourn the loss of your pre-baby body even while you also appreciate and respect the hell out of your body for growing another human. Denying those feelings or, worse, feeling guilty for them and spiraling into self-criticism and shame doesn’t help. Be open and honest with yourself, and talk to other people who will listen non-judgmentally.

I can’t stress enough that you should ask for help if you need it. If your partner or your friends can’t give you the support you need, or you just feel like you need an impartial ear, find a therapist who specializes in body acceptance and postpartum issues (including depression, even if you don’t think you are depressed, since they are so often linked).

I hear some of you saying, “There is just no way I could ever get to a place where I accept, let alone like, this body.” If you’re feeling too mired down in self-negativity to believe that this is for you, consider this: Self-acceptance allows you to care for yourself and the other people in your life. Imagine if you could model a healthy, happy self-image for your baby as he or she grows. Which of your friends would benefit from someone who speaks in body-positive language and who models self-compassion? How would your partner respond if you could believe that you are sexy and deserving of physical affection?

You don’t owe it to other people to work on yourself if you’re not ready, but sometimes a little outside motivation is what gets the gears turning when the inner motivation is hidden under layers of fear, shame, or self-doubt.

Steps You Can Take

Have I mentioned that I strongly advise anyone who is struggling with mental health and well-being to seek professional help? Good, and I’m saying it again for the record. Therapy rocks.

Self-appreciation, self-compassion, and self-care are things we all deserve and we can actively cultivate. I recommend checking out the book Self-compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself by Kristin Neff, Ph.D., as a starting point.

Quit Negative Self-talk: As I’m sure you know, we are usually our own worst critics. We say hateful, belittling things to ourselves that we would never say to someone else. If you want to deal with negative body image, this has to stop.

When you find your inner voice saying something self-critical, interrupt it and replace the disparaging comment with one that expresses kindness and compassion. Mantras and affirmations can be helpful here. (If you think they’re cheesy, humor me and give it a try.) The trick is to find one that feels authentic to you. One that I like, which I found here, is: I will accept that my body may never be exactly the same as it was before I had the baby, just as my heart will never be the same. Some others you might try are: I deserve to treat myself with kindness and respect, I am learning to be gentle with myself, or My body is beautiful and deserves all the love I can give it. It’s O.K. if you don’t quite believe it yet; still say it whenever a negative thought intrudes.

You can also actively redirect your attention from how your body looks to how it feels. Maybe you actually enjoy the feeling of softness is new places. Maybe pregnancy and childbirth made you feel powerful. When a negative thought appears, crowd it out with Hell yes, this body is strong and capable and awesome.

Again, if this feels forced at the beginning, that’s all right! Body positivity and self-acceptance take work. Many things feel awkward when they’re new, but over time they become second nature.

Negative Body Talk with Others: As a veteran member of multiple moms’ groups, I know that when a group of moms gets together, more often than not we end up kvetching about our bodies. I think social support from other moms is hugely important, but if I could go back in time to when my kids were babies, I’d really try to shut down the self-deprecating body talk.

If you have friends who do this, speak up! Honestly, this is a gift to the other women as well. Complaining about our mom bods is such a common form of bonding, sometimes we need permission to break the cycle. Try, “I’ve noticed we spend a lot of time criticizing ourselves, but I think we are all strong and beautiful rockstar moms. I’ve started a personal project to try to stop negative self-talk and replace it with compliments. What if we tried that here?”

And by all means, if there are other people in your life—family, your partner, co-workers—who try to engage you in body or diet/exercise talk that perpetuates your bad feelings, shut it down. Boundaries are fantastic; draw them often.

Of course, I’m not suggesting you suppress your emotions. Find a friend or counselor you can talk to about your feelings, one who won’t respond with, “Ugh, I know! My belly button looks like a Shar Pei too, I hate it. That’s why I started this new diet, have you heard of it?” Processing and dealing with your feelings is one thing. Using language that keeps you stuck in a cycle of body hatred is something else altogether. You can tell the difference.

Curate Your Social Media: Think about the images you see on your social media. Are they mostly #fitspo accounts that depict a narrow range of what it means to be “healthy” and “fit?” If so, consider seeking out the many people who are spreading the word that bodies of different sizes and shapes can be strong, healthy, and attractive. Find other women who are at your stage of motherhood and who are also promoting positive self-image.

Move Your Body: Your body is so much more than what it looks like! Move for the joy of movement and to connect with your body on a physical level. Exercise to feel strong and powerful, not to try to force your body to “lose the baby weight.” Movement should be self-care, not punishment.

Wear Clothes That Fit: Dress up your body in clothes that fit rather than hiding in too-big clothes or squeezing into uncomfortably small clothes.

Step Off the Scale: I know this is a hard one for a lot of people, but if your daily mood depends on the number on the scale each morning, this is bad for your well-being. You don’t need to be aware of the daily fluctuations in order to take care of yourself.

Other Forms of Self-care: The sky’s the limit here! Let someone watch the baby while you take a nap or go for a coffee date with your partner. Get a pedicure. Ignore the laundry and watch a TV show. Taking care of your emotional well-being and feeling more positive overall can help you avoid the negative self-talk trap.

How You Can Help Support a Mom

If there’s a mom in your life whom you want to support, a good way to start is by not commenting on her body, period. (This is a good policy in general.) “You’ve lost weight!” is generally considered a compliment, but sometimes people lose weight because they’re ill or depressed. Plus, it draws attention to her body and reinforces the notion that she must be hoping and trying to lose weight. Better ways to engage her in conversation: Ask how she is feeling, and express excitement about the baby. Ask her if there is anything she needs. Offer to bring her coffee or a meal, go for a walk together, or watch the baby so she can shower or run to the store.

Resources for Finding Help and Support

If you feel like you could use help or support in this area, please don’t be afraid to ask. Below are some resources that cater to postpartum women specifically. There are also some great individuals and organizations that promote body positivity and self-care more generally.

Postpartum Health Alliance

Postpartum Support International

Pacific Postpartum Society

After the Baby is Born: A Postpartum Series — A collection of photos and commentary from new moms as part of The Honest Body Project.

“It’s also helpful to realize that this very body that we have, that’s sitting right here right now… with its aches and it pleasures… is exactly what we need to be fully human, fully awake, fully alive.” – Pema Chödrön

“Treat yourself as if you already are enough. Walk as if you are enough. Eat as if you are enough. See, look, listen as if you are enough. Because it’s true.” – Geneen Roth

Thanks for stopping in today, everybody. Comments, questions, experiences to share? Include them on the comment board below, and have a great end to the week. Take care.

The post Postpartum Body Image: Primal Perspective appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

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lauramalchowblog · 5 years

Text

Postpartum Body Image: Primal Perspective

Accepting Your Postpartum Body

Steps You Can Take

Have I mentioned that I strongly advise anyone who is struggling with mental health and well-being to seek professional help? Good, and I’m saying it again for the record. Therapy rocks.

Again, if this feels forced at the beginning, that’s all right! Body positivity and self-acceptance take work. Many things feel awkward when they’re new, but over time they become second nature.

Wear Clothes That Fit: Dress up your body in clothes that fit rather than hiding in too-big clothes or squeezing into uncomfortably small clothes.

How You Can Help Support a Mom

Resources for Finding Help and Support

Postpartum Health Alliance

Postpartum Support International

Pacific Postpartum Society

After the Baby is Born: A Postpartum Series — A collection of photos and commentary from new moms as part of The Honest Body Project.

“Treat yourself as if you already are enough. Walk as if you are enough. Eat as if you are enough. See, look, listen as if you are enough. Because it’s true.” – Geneen Roth

Thanks for stopping in today, everybody. Comments, questions, experiences to share? Include them on the comment board below, and have a great end to the week. Take care.

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jesseneufeld · 5 years

Text

Postpartum Body Image: Primal Perspective

Accepting Your Postpartum Body

Steps You Can Take

Have I mentioned that I strongly advise anyone who is struggling with mental health and well-being to seek professional help? Good, and I’m saying it again for the record. Therapy rocks.

Again, if this feels forced at the beginning, that’s all right! Body positivity and self-acceptance take work. Many things feel awkward when they’re new, but over time they become second nature.

Wear Clothes That Fit: Dress up your body in clothes that fit rather than hiding in too-big clothes or squeezing into uncomfortably small clothes.

How You Can Help Support a Mom

Resources for Finding Help and Support

Postpartum Health Alliance

Postpartum Support International

Pacific Postpartum Society

After the Baby is Born: A Postpartum Series — A collection of photos and commentary from new moms as part of The Honest Body Project.

“Treat yourself as if you already are enough. Walk as if you are enough. Eat as if you are enough. See, look, listen as if you are enough. Because it’s true.” – Geneen Roth

Thanks for stopping in today, everybody. Comments, questions, experiences to share? Include them on the comment board below, and have a great end to the week. Take care.

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