#and then because the Heart can replicate people like the Ancestor - years later as the second game happens - there's Reynauld

[kurt-wagner-official]

Post #68: NM issues 32-34

This issue opens with a flashback to the explosion that seemingly killed Xuân. She was pulled from Berto by the currents, and he had to give up his search for her to save the drowning Sam. In the present, all of Berto's guilt for failing to save people is coming crashing back down. Steve Leialoha, who's inked a few issues of Uncanny and pencilled Annual 8, is the penciller for this arc, and while nobody can compare to Sienkiewicz in my eyes, he does a great job selling the atmosphere of the flashback sequence, and draws very evocative facial expressions throughout the issue. The key to my heart for a New Mutants artist is how they draw Warlock. I don't want them to replicate Sienkiewicz's Warlock, because it's such a unique style that would feel out of place in another penciller's art and more importantly because it would be boring if every artist had the same take. But a good vision of Warlock is I think indictive of the kind of weird creativity that I think is essential for a New Mutants artist. Leialoha's Warlock feels more corporeal and cartoony, with a lot of personality in his face and some really creative transformations, which is a good take in my mind. The team gets on a plane headed for Madripoor. Madripoor is actually making its first appearance in this issue, and it'll go on to be one of the franchise's most iconic locations. It's an island that's vaguely in the Pacific Ocean and is basically run by the criminal underworld. It's a good way to tell over the top crime stories without being incredibly insulting to an existing country. Expo dump reveals that the New Mutants interrogated Xuân's uncle, the crime boss that she was supposed to work for for a year to repay him for his health. Xuân has actually been manipulating him and then pinned the Gladiators on him, but he gave the New Mutants a lead on her possible location. While the team goes to attack her secret base, Dani tells Doug to stay behind with Warlock. She says it's in case they need backup and/or tech support, which isn't unreasonable, but from Doug's perspective he's being benched again. The others tend to assume he's useless in combat because his powers don't have combat applications (until like 30 years from now when he discovers them) which means he never gets a chance to prove that assumption wrong. They barely even let him train in the Danger Room, usually making him work the controls, even though Dani and Xuân also can't use their powers against Danger Room robots. If he had more field training it might have saved his life later in the series. Anyway, the rest of the team battles an army of mutant minions. I'm not sure when it happened and I didn't mention it, but Dani's new codename is Mirage. I think it's better than Psyche, which was kinda generic for someone with pretty unique psy powers. I barely even register the codenames of these characters because for my own consistency reasons I exclusively stick to their real names. And not even that sometimes; I always call Roberto Berto, which is one of his nicknames, but they just as frequently call him Bobby or Roberto. It just works better in my brain to pick one thing and stick to it. Okay, back to the plot for real this time, Xuân possesses Sam, Berto, Rahne, and Amara, but Illyana natural defenses protect her, and she ports herself and Dani to Limbo. They gather a bunch of demons and return, but Xuân's already killed all her guards with her new slaves and skedaddled, calling the cops to pin it on Dani and Illyana. They know Xuân has a second evil lair in Cairo, so they try to port there, back accidentally go way in the past to ancient Egypt. They're met with Ashake, an ancestor of Ororo who looks exactly like her. She's a sorcerer, and had a vision of their arrival and their friendship with her descendant. Illyana doesn't have the control to send them back to the present, but Ashake is able to send them back magically. It's a pretty random little plotline that ties into a few other hints Claremont has dropped about Ororo having innate magical prowess. But he never ends up going farther than hints with that storyline, and later writers haven't really shown interest in picking it up. Ashake also overshoots, sending them a few decades after their time, where they see their friends sadistically hunting down and killing civilians in the streets. Illyana ports them again and they finally reach the present, but Dani is ready to give up. She was the one who led the team to this fate, and she's afraid there's no way to save them. Almost this exact situation happened in the first Hellions arc, and the fact that it's happening again makes the corruption of the team feel inevitable to Dani. Just when all hope seems lost, the present day Ororo arrives with Warlock, who's immune to Xuân's power and found Ororo in Cairo. Ororo says that the odds are against them, but they can't give up, and Dani and Illyana find a new courage and faith.

Xuân is chilling in her evil lair, a dance club, with her new slaves, now joined by Doug, having fun torturing random people. Our heroes arrive and attack. Through their psy-link, Dani is able to free Rahne, but they're forced to retreat again. Before they do, though, Dani conjures Xuân's greatest fear, Xavier, a hint at the true identity of who's possessing her. Xuân sends her New Mutants after them, and this time gets the upper hand when Illyana seems to betray her friends. She ports Dani back to Xuân, letting her possess her and through her Dani, and then strands Warlock in Limbo. Warlock is having a very confusing day; first his friends betrayed him, and then the ones who didn't told him they still had to avoid hurting Xuân's slaves. And then when he's stuck in Limbo, S'ym shows him the corpse of Limbo!Peter and tells him how Illyana rules and evil dimension. Illyana goes back and captures Ororo, delivering her to Xuân, who calls her Darkchilde and welcomes her as a partner rather than slave. Illyana has a plan, which is still unknown to the readers, but she may never get to use it when she returns to Limbo and Warlock attacks her.

Warlock is determined to destroy Illyana so he can return to Earth and save all his "oncefriends" from Xuân. She tells him she wants to save them too and refuses to fight back, and he can't bring himself to hurt her. He collapses to the ground and calls himself a coward, wishing he could die, which he does a lot. But Illyana gives him a coach speech that gets him to pick himself up. Illyana scries on Xuân, who's taunting Ororo with the knowledge of her true identity, which Ororo knows and has met before. Through vague magic, she's able to follow Ororo's memory to timeshift to that first meeting. It's a scene we saw a long time ago in Uncanny, when Ororo was a little girl and a pickpocket in Cairo. A young Xavier is visiting Cairo and runs into Amahl Farouk and kills him in a psychic duel. But Illyana realizes that his astral form survived and is possessing Xuân. They come up with a plan; Warlock disguises himself as Illyana and goes to Xuân!Farouk. They know he was planning on betraying Illyana and trying to enslave her, but Warlock's mental defenses are even better, and by the time Farouk realizes his mistake Illyana has teleported the others to Limbo and back, breaking the hold over them. Farouk tries to escape by jumping into Doug's body and hiding, but Illyana smokes him out by stabbing with her soulsword, which Doug knows couldn't hurt him but causes Farouk to freak out. Xuân challenges Farouk to an astral battle as Xavier did long ago, and bolstered by her friends, she forces him to flee back into the astral plane. Xuân feels broken and terrified that Farouk will return someday, and wants to lay down and die, but the New Mutants give one of their famous "don't lay down and die" speeches, convincing her not to give up on life. Damaged but whole, Ororo tells the team she's taking them on vacation.

I enjoyed this arc a lot. I do think it would have been better if they hadn't drawn out the possession mystery for as long as they did. But when they do reveal the villain's identity it's an amazing twist, and I do really love Farouk as a villain. Issue 32 was the first one of the series to feature the whole classic team lineup, if you include Xuân's interactions as the villain. It's the most lead characters that Claremont has had in a book at once so far, and there's some slight balancing issues. Berto starts off the story as angry as he's ever been, both at Xavier and himself, and there's not really a payoff. Obviously his arc isn't over, and those issues with come up again, but there won't be another chance to explore that in the context of him dealing with Xuân being evil. I like the way Ororo was included; there was a danger that she'd take over as the protagonist, but instead she mostly sticks to the mentor role, which is how the X-Men should be used in this series. The thing with her ancestor was kinda a weird inclusion though. It's also great to see the kids saving an X-Man, which really reflects how much they're growing as heroes. The Illyana/Dani team-up in 32 was fine, and a good parallel to the Hellions arc, but what I really loved was the Illyana/Warlock duo. It's not a duo that gets a lot of focus in the series as a whole, but their interactions are always gold, because they're both such interesting characters and such incredibly weird people. They also represent the great sci-fi/fantasy fusion that makes New Mutants stories stand out from other 80s books. My biggest complaint about this arc is the number of "I'm just gonna give up and die" "no don't do that" "okay you're right" conversations. I counted at least 3, and they're not badly written, but it kinda gets old. There's other ways to make a character rediscover their will to live. I also don't like how Xuân's obesity is first used as a symbol of Farouk's evil and then as a symbol for how he ruined her life. It's a lazy visual crutch, even more so considering Claremont has written lots of stories about possession trauma and made them very interesting without gimmicky lasting effects. Luckily, Claremont writes that element out very quickly after this issue. I enjoyed Leialoha's art, and I'm a little sad that he'll never be back on the book, but there's some other good artists coming up. The characters don't realize it, but this is the finale of their first era before the Asgard Wars and Trial of Magneto turn the status quo upside down. The team is finally together just in time for everything to change again.

[askmalal]

The heretic was bruised, beaten, the bones of his left hand crushed, his lips swollen. Dried blood had gathered beneath his nose, beneath his jaw, and on the inner tunic of his shirt.

Arbitrator Caractus was unhappy. They’d simply thrown the man into an interrogation cell, and expected her to register his information before he was handed off to... well, she wasn’t entirely sure. But she didn’t think anyone came back from it. The Inquisition? Perhaps. But the Arbites didn’t much care for the Inquisition. Prone to corruption. For all their faults, the Arbites were ruthless opponents of corruption. Even their worst enemies admitted that they may have been sadistic bastards, but they were bastards who always had a paper trail to document that sadism... Marielle Caractus was not sadistic. But she never really -had-met her father...

“Name?”

The heretic smiled. “Marcus Tertullius.”

He didn’t cackle madly. He didn’t laugh. He simply smiled. Almost... it was almost polite of him.

“Citizen Tertullius, you have been charged with...” she skimmed down the list. “Well, my. What an interesting evening you had!” She cleared her throat, “Distribution of heretical texts with the intention to incite civil disobedience. Possession of an outlawed weapon. Vandalism in the First Degree.Attempted sabotage of public works. Theft of Imperial Property. Threatening a member of the Urban Cohort. Threading an Arbitrator. Possession of bomb making materials. Shall I enter your pleas?”

“May I have a handkerchief, please?”

She passed one over. He nodded his thanks and cleaned the blood from his face. “To the first charge. I admit to owning the material and distributing it. I do not admit guilt in owning an heretical work, however.”

“You are aware that this is a banned work, and has been so since at least M32?”

“It wasn’t as if I had a copy of the Necronomicon, Arbitrator.” His voice was calm, pleasant.

“No. There were no M1 era Gallic texts on mortuary practices. Nor fictitious works of supernatural study in your possession, Citizen.”

Marcus smiled again. “My. You are well educated, Arbitrator.”

“And to the others?” She said, moving on.

“Intention to cause civil disobedience? While I contend this is a matter of,” he spat blood into the handkerchief, “of free will, I plead guilty. Absolutely, unabashedly guilty.”

She nodded, “You had in your possession an illegally modified Imperial Guard issue laspistol.”

Marcus laughed for the first time. “Imperial Guard issue. That is rich. It’s a family heirloom. I think you’ll find it is an antiquity. A legacy of an ancestor who fought for one of the Emperor’s sons in the Imperial Army. And I didn’t modify it one bit. I merely kept it clean and functional. Shame your jack booted morons had to damage it. Real history there.”

She frowned, “Can you substantiate that claim?”

Marcus nodded, “You will find the registry number, and the license we hold for it, and have, for literally ten thousand years.”

“Vandalism.”

“Guilty. Though I think it was an improvement.”

“You sprayed the words ‘cocksuckers’ across the statues of four different heroes of the Imperium. I hardly think it was an improvement.”

“Art is very... subjective, granted. They were Ecclesiarchs. Two were subsequently executed. I hardly think that qualifies as heroic, with or without the executions. Do you have a problem with art?”

Marielle raised an eyebrow, “No.”

“A problem with cock suckers then, Arbitrator?”

She smirked, “Art is a luxury wasted on the insane.”

“And cock suckers are wasted in a clerical life.” He coughed, covering his mouth, “the plea is guilty.”

“You do not seem to have much of a fear of the punishment which awaits you, Citizen Tertullius.”

“Fear is a luxury wasted on the faithless, Arbitrator.”

He was, by all rights, inviting a beating. And yet, his eyes were placid, he was fully lucid. He was not ranting or raving. A madman nonetheless. Beatings? Those were wasted on madmen.

“Attempted sabotage of public works.”

Marcus considered this. “I rather think I was successful, I didn’t merely attempt it.”

“It says here that you attempted to slice into the internal holonet data feeds for the administratum complex.”

“I did not,” Tertullius smiled, “I did not attempt it. I succeeded. Uploaded my data packet.”

Arbitrator Caractus scowled, “No virus was detected. Pictures, text then? Something about ‘cock suckers’ again, Citizen Tertullius?” Was he some sort of pervert? Was that his angle? Perhaps they’d labeled him a heretic misunderstanding his intent. Criminal, but..

He laughed, briefly. It was painful, and he was forced to cover his mouth again. “No. Copies of that so-called work of heresy. Self-Replicating.”

“I see.” She frowned. “So it is a sort of virus then. We should have it scrubbed.”

Marcus shook his head. “No need. It’s done it’s work already.”

She would have to look into that later.

“Bomb making materials?”

“Not guilty.”

“Proscribed chemicals and a timing mechanism were found in your apartment, Citizen.”

“Not an explosive. A smoke charge. Drives the sensors on the local police autocars crazy.”

“Smoke bombs are classified as explosives under the Proscribed Civilian Weapons Act, Explosives: Chapter 7, section 14, Amendment 457a.”

He shrugged. “I would clap, but the bastards broke my left hand.”

“Citizen,” she sighed, “your records are clean to this point. You make a better salary than most. You have a clean apartment and you own your own autocar. What could possibly motivate such behavior?”

Tertullius’ face was blank, but his answer was sincere. “Faith.”

“The Holy Books of our faith do not...” Marcus interrupted her, and his voice was hard. “Your faith. Not mine.”

“That is blasphemy, Citizen.”

“So is all of this,” he threw up his good arm, manacled to the left, gesturing, “all of it.” So. Now the ranting was come. She steeled herself.

“Be careful, citizen,” she cautioned, “you haven’t expressed such beliefs that can cause you significant pain. They might even be mercifully quick about it...”

“I do not fear your Inquisitors.”

“You should,” Marielle’s retort was sharp.

“When I was a Navy Armsman, oh, round about the time you probably began your training, I watched the Marines Malevolent vaporize a colony of monastic gardeners because they had evidence that an icon to a false god was being hidden in their vicinity. They killed them all. Burned their city. And found they’d got the coordinates wrong. The captain of my ship, he was horrified. Couldn’t do anything. I heard, a few years later, filing the report ended his career. The man had a Navy Cluster. He was a legitimate hero.”

“I am unsure how this affects your plea, citizen. I believe we are just about done here.”

“You asked me about my faith, Arbitrator. I do not lie. I lost my faith that day. It was the latest in a string of atrocities, acts of cowardice. Things that made my blood boil and my heart ache. Turns out, however, that I didn’t completely succeed as an atheist. That icon, you know. Of the false god? Our search parties never found it. Not officially. But... you know..” he leaned forward, beaming, “we did. Four of us. Miles away, in some bombed out bunker from generations past. It was a little thing. A book, the cover embossed with a circle, half white and half black and a pictogram I didn’t recognize. An archaic Terran text it turns out.”

“You should have turned it in, then.” Marielle sighed, “That’s another charge. They will likely execute you for it.”

“Oh, but we did, Arbitrator. To the Captain. After I’d read it cover to cover, of course.”

“Sweet Emperor, man! Do you want to be executed?!”

“Not particularly. But I have done my duty. I am at peace.”

“You are a madman” Marielle shook her head. “A lunatic. Those books. They say horrible things. They do horrible things. And now we’ll have to arrest otherwise innocent people, since you so kindly uploaded the damned thing to the data feed, and.”

“No. Not that one. What I uploaded came later. Though I suppose it could inspire a kind of madness.”

Marielle closed her notebook, “I think it’s time we parted company. You are of no use to anyone but...” she shook her head, “but them, now.”

There was a code burst, illuminating her helmet feed, and she switched it on for a moment, listening. “Yes,” she said to the other end, “come on ahead.” Caractus turned her attention back to Tertullius, “Arbitrator Webb will take your to your holding cell. I suggest you make peace with your maker.”

Tertullius smiled, “We are broken in his crucible to be reforged in his anvil.”

Cripes. A looney. An eerily calm looney. But a looney just the same. He said little else, and when Webb arrived, she merely passed him on with a shake of the head. “Lost cause, Dub.”

Webb shook his head, sympathetically, as best a man built like an aurochs could. “That’s a shame. I’m sure you got something useful from him. You always do with these things, Mary. See you on the flipside.” Webb’s powerful frame seemed to diminish the half-broken Tertullius; the man put up no fight but showed no fear. Whatever he had to say, he had said it. She watched her them go and shook her head again. What a waste.

Marielle turned her eyes back to the helmet feed, blinking away the messages that had filled her inbox. At last, she came to it. A text file.

“COMMON SENSE,” it read, “by Thomas Paine.”

More lunatic nonsense. She was preparing to delete it when another code burst came through. Webb again, “Just couldn’t stay away, eh Dubb?”

“Well. No. But... I’ve got some good news for you, Marielle. You get to go off duty just a bit early. Maybe we could get dinner?”

“Sure. But... why?”

“Well, we’ve been dating for three years, and I thought maybe we should take the bold step of dining together now and again.”

“No,” Caractus rolled her eyes. “Not that. Why the early shift?”

“Oh. That. Well, your interrogation tonight. Your vandal-cum-mad bomber-cum-heretic...”

“Yes. The calm, creepy one.”

“Pretty calm now. He’s dead. Died of injuries in the waiting pen.”

“What? You literally just picked him up.”

“Not really true. I picked him up hours ago. The street squad beat the hell out of him. We were hoping he’d stabilize before we brought him up to you.”

“Brought him up?!” Marielle blinked, “Again?”

“What do you mean ‘again?’”

“Are you joking, Dub?” She frowned.

“Oh, come on Mary. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to talk to him before he died. But better for him. Wouldn’t have survived the Inquisitors. But, if it makes you feel any better,” Webb’s voice reassured, “I am sure you would have got something useful out of him. You always do with these things.”

[somnilogical]

i am prepared to face god this instant

in the case of the native americans, in a counterfactual world where every native human could would do with their muscles what they would yell at a book character in their situation to do with their mouth. where people could would make choices from a third person point of view and then carry out the choices. where when asked by an interrogator for the names of your rebel companions, you say you will know them when they come to avenge me.

<<On 8 Feb 1943, the Nazis hung 17-year-old Yugoslav partisan Lepa Radić. When asked the names of her companions, she replied: “You will know them when they come to avenge me”.>>

--

<<N. Stolyarova recalls an old woman who was her neighbor on the Butyrki bunks in 1937. They kept on interrogating her every night. Two years earlier, a former Metropolitan of the Orthodox Church, who had escaped from exile, had spent a night at her home on his way through Moscow. “But he wasn’t the former Metropolitan, he was the Metropolitan! Truly, I was worthy of receiving him.” “All right then. To whom did he go when he left Moscow?” “I know, but I won’t tell you!” (The Metropolitan had escaped to Finland via an underground railroad of believers.) At first the interrogators took turns, and then they went after her in groups. They shook their fists in the little old woman’s face, and she replied: “There is nothing you can do with me even if you cut me into pieces. After all, you are afraid of your bosses, and you are afraid of each other, and you are even afraid of killing me.” (They would lose contact with the underground railroad.) “But I am not afraid of anything. I would be glad to be judged by God right this minute.”

There were such people in 1937 too, people who did not return to their cell for their bundles of belongings, who chose death, who signed nothing denouncing anyone.>>

<<One can’t say that the history of the Russian revolutionaries has given us any better examples of steadfastness. But there is no comparison anyway, because none of our revolutionaries ever knew what a really good interrogation could be, with fifty-two different methods to choose from. Just as oxcart drivers of Gogol’s time could not have imagined the speed of a jet plane, those who have never gone through the receiving-line meat grinder of Gulag cannot grasp the true possibilities of interrogation.

We read in Izvestiya for May 24, 1959, that Yuliya Rumyantseva was confined in the internal prison of a Nazi camp while they tried to find out from her the whereabouts of her husband, who had escaped from that same camp. She knew, but she refused to tell! For a reader who is not in the know this is a model of heroism. For a reader with a bitter Gulag past it’s a model of inefficient interrogation: Yuliya did not die under torture, and she was not driven insane. A month later she was simply released—still very much alive and kicking.>>

-alexander solzhenitsyn, the gulag archipelago

if all or even a majority of native americans near the missions had this neurotype, then what id suggest would be for everyone to move away from the missions and if captured refuse to work to the point of death. the missions need slave labour in order to exist and without people to feed on and with long supply lines, they would be undone and people would be free from the largest human-unfriendly institution of the era.

and the outcome would be better than ~60 years of slavery. this is choosing between timelines

somni why do you care about freedom? freedom is like ability-to-live. if people were like "well who cares about the global slavery-and-submission-and-stasis cult" until catholicism actually took over the world, the world would be much worse and we would never get to the stars.

you could say "whats the point, everyone gets assimilated to whatever the social order is now which is driving us all to doom" but like if you are in 1800s america after you keep the world ending for a set of tribes, you work on societal tech to keep it from ending in other ways and landing in this patch of equilibrium-space in the first place.

its like the difference between choosing between timelines and wondering if perhaps the money could be better spent sustaining the lives of those who could be locally saved. there are other organizing principles for moral reasoning besides these, and more than i have thought of so far. i suspect locating new ones is a spatially-loaded skill.

ben hoffman was using the choosing between consistent timelines kind of thinking when he quoted deuteronomy 30:19 in his post about REACH

http://benjaminrosshoffman.com/humans-need-places/

<<I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live.>>

https://www.sefaria.org/Deuteronomy.30.19?lang=bi&aliyot=0

which in context of the passage is exactly the same cognition that would benefit the natives to resist the world's largest human-unfriendly subjugation org and live to iteratively squirm out of these sorts of tangles in the future.

<<See, I set before you this day life and prosperity, death and adversity.

For I command you this day, to love the LORD your God, to walk in His ways, and to keep His commandments, His laws, and His rules, that you may thrive and increase, and that the LORD your God may bless you in the land that you are about to enter and possess.

But if your heart turns away and you give no heed, and are lured into the worship and service of other gods,

I declare to you this day that you shall certainly perish; you shall not long endure on the soil that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess.

I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day: I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life—if you and your offspring would live—

by loving the LORD your God, heeding His commands, and holding fast to Him. For thereby you shall have life and shall long endure upon the soil that the LORD swore to your ancestors, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to give to them.>>

if native americans had social tech which could better survive slavery and forced relocation, maybe things would be different today.

which, this can be cast in a zero-sum frame of having your group survive versus everyone elses which runs against antinationalist heuristics.

but if you are planning to manufacture a pattern which revolutionizes the world, for the good of all life, it is instrumentally useful to avoid assimilation and submission destroying this work.

this applies to multi-generational projects as well as within-a-lifetime choices. if you choose to submit and assimilate and erase all work and structure you have built, each time someone wants to feed on you, then you i (0.7) dont think can really sustain your work.

--

i wonder if with this worlds distribution of neurotypes, such that maybe most humans cant run consequentialism through a rawlsian veil where they forget which human inherits the label "me" on their muscles. im somewhat optimistic that even those who cant wont make their muscles move according to this, can locate the correct answer.

though there is i think a habit among people whose neurotypes have issues to retroactively rationalize (FAKE REASONING, STORIES) that because you are unable to make your body wont choose your death over the death of three of your friends, equally or more useful to the flourishing of all life, it doesnt make sense to choose your death over theirs.

--

linta mentioned that they couldnt imagine knowing the right thing to do and then not doing it. that they dont have a gap between these things save for akrasia, i think it is because the gap is filled with fractally expanding justifications of the form "but you cant really expect a human being to give up their life for the sake of their companions, you need to be reasonable and work with humans who exist".

human neurodiversity exists, as a matter of historical fact not all humans have the same weaknesses. in hpmor!metaphor, some people are hermione granger and wont zap people in the milgram compliance test.

and building plans predicated on people who need to divert resources to local stuff because of their neurotype, will replace "if this were a story what plans would i yell at my character do?" with "what would someone who cant run consequentialism through a rawlsian veil, see in 3rd person and then act in harmony with this do?" "someone who needs to divert resources to babies and not personally dying, do?" "what if everyone were like this?"

labeling the latter as "what will happen if everyone is running consequentialism, playing as if from 3rd person and wants humanity to win?" is a distortion of what is going on and compounds as institutions are built on it and the boundaries of what good could be done are strictly smaller than the reach of what good could be done irl.

by the way, the milgram experiment replicated in 2015 poland. gotta check with the replication crisis.

https://qz.com/932110/researchers-have-replicated-a-notorious-social-experiment-that-claimed-to-explain-the-rise-of-fascism/

<<It is exceptionally interesting that in spite of the many years which have passed since the original Milgram experiments, the proportion of people submitting themselves to the authority of the experimenter remains very high. The result of 90% obedience which we have achieved, 95% CI [83.43%, 96.57%], is very close to the number of people pressing the 10th button in the original Milgram studies. For example, in Milgram’s (1974) Experiment No. 2, replicated in our study, 34 of 40 people pressed Button No. 10 (85% of participants, the 95% CI extends from 70.54% to 93.32%).>>

one of my moms who studies fascism once told me she thinks 40-60% of people have as their ideology that they will imitate those in power, and will go along with Power in times of an authoritarian takeover. they believe that they will eat rather than be eaten. given my experience and things like the milgram test, i think its closer to 90-95%.

--

reading grognor's memorial page it looked like he was very fucked up by the fact that he could do a rawlsian veil consequentialism thought experiment, where he saw himself in third person or forgot which agent was "him" and "his family" and then notice that his muscles werent moving in harmony with the logic of the results.

<<are you doing the best thing you could possibly be doing? why not?

become good

SPEAK TRULY, EVEN IF YOUR VOICE TREMBLES

you continue to underestimate the harm you have done and are doing

are you doing the best thing you could possibly be doing? why not?

The tools you have available are cognitive actions and motor actions. Use them to immanentize the eschaton. You have one life

if you were an alien suddenly transposed into your current body, what would you do now?

Pretend with every thought and action to be a much better person. Reach heaven through fraud.>>

https://grognor.github.io/archives.html

[user-43424]

A Fool’s Glance at Mentalism and THE ALL

Mentalism and THE ALL

The Masters tell us, “Under and in-back of, the universe of time, space and change, is ever to be found the Substantial Reality – The Fundamental Truth.” The Secrets of the Universe are hidden in plain sight. The more you learn about Hermetic Philosophy, the more you will begin to see them. Before I go deeper into the concepts behind Hermetic philosophy, we must first talk about the core of this Philosophy. This is the Fools Guide to the Occult: A Fool’s Glance at Mentalism and its relation to THE ALL.

The mind is a very complicated topic. So complicated that it has an entire field of study dedicated to it called Psychology. So for the sake of time and simplification I will only touch on it. There are several different ideas of how the mind works. The Hindus and the Buddhists have GREAT sophisticated practices that delve into the mental plane. What I will be focusing on is the western idea of the mental plane and then go into the Dharma and mentalism in later. What I am going to focus on is the Mind, Mental Transmutation and THE ALL.

“Mind ( as well as metals and elements) may be transmuted, from state to state; degree to degree; condition to condition; pole to pole; vibration to vibration; True Hermetic Transmutation is a Mental Art!” - The Kybalion

So There Are Three States of Mind;

The Reasonable Mind- a person uses Their reasonable mind when approaching a situation intellectually. They plan and make decisions based on what they see as true.

The Emotional Mind- is when a person uses how they feel to control a person's thoughts and behavior. They might act impulsively with little regard for the consequences.

The Wise Mind- is able to balance the two understanding when it is the right time to be Reasonable and when it is the right time to be Emotional.

Hermeticists were the original Alchemists, Astrologers, and Psychologists. Hermes having been the founder of these schools of thought. The Wise mind is the alchemical marriage of the Emotional and Reasonable mind. Old hermetic traditions hold the test of time. Alchemy continues through Chemistry. Astrology is now Astronomy. These schools of thought stood the tests of time because their truths can survive change. The ancients were not dumb, in fact they were a lot smarter than we are today and a lot less distracted. The ancient hermeticists possessed both the Inner and Outer knowledge and therefore more aware of the world around them.

The Zodiac was a farmers almanac it told our ancestors when to farm crops raise animals and even plan harvests and holidays. The sky was a clock, a calendar, and a compass. There are stone chains in Buddhist temples in India that no one knows how to replicate even with modern tools.

Transmutation, means to change from one nature, form, or substance into another.

Mental Transmutation, is the art of changing and transforming mental states, forms, and conditions, into others. So like, turning the Emotional or Rational mind to a Wise mind.

Mental Transmutation, is really the “magic” of which the ancient writers had so much to say in their works, but gave so few practical instructions. And boy howdy! Are there so many works to choose from I suggest starting at the Kalama Sutta, The Emerald Tablets, and Psychology of the Unconscious  by Carl Jung. Mental transmutation takes years to master and is a journey in and of itself so don't think you can flip a switch and say you got it because you don't. Masters do not make public exhibitions of their powers, but seek seclusion from the crowds of men in order to better work their way along the path. You need to find yourself how you are in-regards to everyone else. That way you know how you better fit in with others and society as a whole. You will also be resistant to the wills of others. This is why nerds spend their time buried in books instead of going out and being social. Masters tend to be introverted and drawn into their own minds but that is not limited to just introverts its just that extroverts tend to have lower intuition due to being too attached to group think. There are always exceptions to every rule however rare it may be.

Substance - A term meaning that which underlies all outward manifestations; the essence; the essential reality; the thing in itself. Substantial. A term meaning actually existing; being real. Reality; The state of being real; true; valid; fixed; permanent; actual.

Substantia - actually existing being the essential element; Being real.

Reality -  the state of being real; true, enduring; valid; fixed; permanent; actual

The Law is the Truth. If we are,  just for the fun of it, take the Law of Thelma into consideration. The Law is Will over Love. Will over Love equals Truth. Love is the Highest state of Mind and since Truth is Love, Truth is the highest state of reality. With this in mind we can begin to explore the concept of THE ALL.

C.S Lewis wrote a book on Four types of Love the from the Bible;

Affection (storage)

Love of a parent towards offspring and vice versa one of the strongest forms of love. You need nothing for this kind of love. It is a type of unconditional love.

Friendship (philia)

Friendship is based on a kinship one has with another that is due to people having in common like games or other hobbies or lifestyle choices. “To the Ancients, Friendship seemed the happiest and most fully human of all loves,” says Lewis, “the crown of life and the school of virtue. The modern world, in comparison, ignores it.” as Lewis says, “few value it because few experience it,... Friendship must be about something.”

Romantic (eros)  

The most intimate  kind of love. “(Lovers) are always talking to one another about their love” and “are normally face to face, absorbed in each other,” says Lewis. This love is all about the passion one has for an individual. “The event of falling in love is of such a nature that we are right to reject as intolerable the idea that it should be transitory,” says Lewis. “In one high bound it has overlapped the massive wall of our selfhood; it has made appetite itself altruistic, tossed personal happiness aside as a triviality and planted the interests of another in the center of our being. ”This is key to a happy family and when approached with humility and understanding of the loved one will lead to a healthy marriage."

Charity (agape)

Love without limitation or the love of THE ALL or the Ultimate Truth Lewis reminds us:

“There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.”

In Buddhism they also have four aspects of love;

Maitri - is translated into kindness or benevolence.

Karuna - meaning compassion If you can't feel compassion for another you can't feel love for another.

Mudita- translated as joy or happiness. Negative emotions prevent love from taking place. When you love another you feel happy to be around them and they share that same happiness.

Upeksha - meaning freedom. Without freedom to love or not to love you arn't truly feeling love. You don't own the person you love. Genuine love comes on its own without orders and so it can also leave on its own. Love is not true love when its forced.

I talk about Truth, Love and Will because, THE ALL is Mind- The universe itself is mental, existing in the Mind of THE ALL. THE ALL also is the spiritual plan but, due to our inability to since the spiritual we can only understand The mental form of THE ALL.

THE ALL Must be ALL that really is. There is nothing more because THE ALL is literally everything. THE ALL is Infinite, there is nothing left to define, confine, bound, limit or restrict THE ALL. THE ALL is Infinite in Time and Eternal as well as unchanging. The Hindu traditions call THE ALL the Brahman, who is all deities and phenomena all wrapped up in one Whole, the Ultimate Truth, or sum of all truths. Even that definition hardly scratches the surface of what THE ALL, Brahman, or Source is. THE ALL is undefinable by our level of human understanding. This is how I came to a better understanding of THE ALL. But in trying to understand THE ALL it is important not to fully define THE ALL. This warning is better explained in the Christion Gnostic view of Sophia, who tried to comprehend the Source only to emanate a shadow of what the Mind is capable of providing, The Demiurge. All our truths are but half truths so any truth you find that is true for you may not be true for others but with the two truths a more perfect truth may emerge.

The Masters tell us that “While all is in THE ALL, it is equally true THE ALL is in all. To him who understands this truth hath come great knowledge.” THE ALL is imminent in the Universe, and every part, particle, unit, or combination within the Universe, just as you are a part of every tissue, cell, particle of your body. However, the Universe is a creation of the Infinite Mind of  THE ALL. The difference between the two poles separates them, “As Above So Below!” Our Hermetic teachings concerning the Process of Mental Creation of the Universe are that, at the beginning of the Creative Cycle, THE ALL in its aspect of, “Becoming,” and the process of Creation begins.

THE ALL interacts with its Creation through its “Stage of Involution”. In the Stage of Involution, THE ALL becomes “Involved” or “Wrapped Up” in its creation. Corresponding to the Mental Process of an artist, writer, architect and so on. It is through the Law of Individualization, that by separating into separate Units of Force, so finally that which left, THE ALL as individualized energy returns to its source as countless highly developed Units of Life, having risen higher and higher in the scale by means of Physical, Mental, and Spiritual Evolution. THE ALL does this all through meditation. THE ALL, heaving meditated upon the beginning of the Creation. Having thus established the material foundations of the universe, having thought it into existence. Then gradually THE ALL, “Awakens” from its meditation and in so doing, starts into manifestation and then the “Indrawing” process. To me this reminds me of breathing deeply. All then Withdraws into THE ALL when the Great Work is finished. As Above So Below the “Indwelling Spirit” is the “Divine Ego.”

THE ALL, “Acts because it Acts,”. There is no reason for THE ALL to act, for a “Reason” implies a “Cause” and THE ALL is above the Law of Cause and Effect. Principle and THE ALL; Principle and Being; are Identical, they are one and the same. When the Masters asked Hermes The Great about Inner Nature and THE ALL, Hermes pressed his lips together and stayed silent.

“The lips of wisdom are closed,

except to the ears of Understanding''

—The Kybalion.

Sources: The Kybalion, by the Three Initiates; The 4 Loves, by C.S Lewis; Book of the Law, By Alister Crowly;  Tripiṭaka, Buddhist text

[lxcxndatlkalct]

The flash of cameras was nothing new to her. The flickering of lights that might have blinded someone less certain of where they’d come from. Lucinda had long since understood it best to look above them, than directly at them. So often before, she’d been on the other side of the lens, with the lingering familiarity of a camera in her hand, she found it near impossible to ignore a sliver of envy flicker at the tips of her fingers. She’d given Kingsley and the myriad of aurors time, as he’d asked, but the facts remained that the people of their world deserved to know the truth; not the half arsed attempt at it that the ministry could so often offer them before now.

Their world built on secrets, founded on lies that were warped and twisted to suit those in power, and while she wasn’t completely against that for the greater good and the magical legacy of their world, she was neither opposed to the truth. Especially if it would further satisfy the belief she shared with so many. The ministry was as corrupt as it claimed their enemy to be.

True, that she’d bent the will of those that came before the shatter in their hierarchy that he’d left in his wake, twisted words to suit her her own goal, one entwined so deeply with that of the Dark Lord that it was often difficult to decipher where one thought began and another ended. As she neared the dias, the makings of a certain manic happiness burst within her chest while the stoic features of Lucinda Talkalot showed everything but to the public as she had many times since her appointment in public relations. While the Ministry spared the face of the minister himself unless the time truly called for it, she’d become a waypoint, a public figure over night despite her timely discomfort. Like the second skin she wore with the mask and hood adorned by those deemed the enemy, she slipped all too easily into a facade that she’d upheld for far too long and that perfectly placed veil had rendered Lucinda as Tom’s first choice in infiltrating with so much risk.

Right beneath the nose of all those who might have known better, she’d been on the receiving end of every detail, every slip of information that would never reach the public and while she’d been sworn to secrecy on all things that would never move beyond the walls of the ministry’s most private spaces, there were now far more people that knew than those she’d sworn herself to, were aware of.

This, however, wasn’t a ply for more information. The cracks had shattered the earth beneath them, the death of the minister at the hand of her Lord were just a stepping stone in ripping the ministry apart from the inside out. He’d been clear. Crystal. She was not to leave a single detail out. And so, with the blinding flash of cameras, a blur of voices that soon dulled to nothing but white noise as the protective detail she’d been given quietened the growing plethora of media vultures. A momentary pause, a memory that wasn’t her own, placing Rodolphus Lestrange right where she stood, moments before he was executed. While she certainly had no intentions of setting a grenade off at her own feet the way he had just to open the eyes of those too scared to look willingly, she certainly wasn’t shielding any single person willing to listen. Her poison was much less blinding, a subtle sting that would reverberate slowly through the veins of the wizarding community and with any luck and favor on her side, she’d play her part in tearing the foundations of this world down to start anew.

“Three days ago, we released a general statement alerting you all to the untimely, tragic death of our beloved minister, Harold Minchum. The passing of our leader, ---” She paused, the corner of painted lips drawing in a near impeccable smile filled with a sadness that didn’t belong in her heart, “-- and to some, our friend, --- has without doubt shocked us all.” Like a wave, the somber reminder that the fact they were there at all stemmed from a tragedy that those too naive to see was without a doubt a necessary evil in the minds eye of those willing to fight for the betterment of their world. One that didn’t allow the lessening of power through the continued allowance for those muggle born to share in any of it. A disservice to themselves, to their ancestors. “Perhaps it’s now that we need to remember that it is in times of great sorrow and change that we must consider our choices more than ever. Some believe that you do not need to understand what happened, just that it has. That the Ministry has it under control, that we’re mending out defenses, that we’re working to find a way to give you the government that you so greatly deserve. That is what Minister Minchum would have wanted you to know and believe in his stead. In a strong front, unwilling to break or bend to loss and confusion, a community that begs for the betterment and development of those that need it the most and perhaps that is what you will believe, regardless of what you’re told.”

She cast hues that echoed the sentiment of every word she spoke out across the growing mass of people. For years she’d remained silent, in the background of all that she could. Once an observer more than one to take action, however, the long continuous study of the people around her gave her more leeway to bend her own features, to replicate those she’d seen, the sounds she’d heard in the depths of voices she knew all too well. A mockingbird with wings clipped as her orders to speak slivers of the truth embedded themselves in fingertips that traced the wooden dias with a slow tenderness that might have been one detail too perfect for one such grievance as reporting the death of one they’d thought so mighty, now only temporarily replaced by an even mightier coward. “Barely a week has passed, and it is already becoming alarmingly clear..--” Hues traversed the crowd, some barely listening while others clung to every word she spoke as if it were already law. “That for so long now, you have all been fooled by the blinded trust you held in those deemed to protect our very real right for justice, for the truth, and I have been no better informed than you. Beaten into submission by a government that would not have you hold the ability to question us in return. For so long you have been made to believe that our democracy was just that; while slowly but surely they took your ability to live well from you, in any which way they could. Your right to the truth was torn from your very fingertips as Rodolphus Lestrange was murdered before your very eyes without an offer of explanation like so many before him --- and like so many that came after, dusting every truthful word he spoke under the rug even when it screamed to high heavens the depths of corruption behind closed doors. Your very right to your own truth, to justice and your own health and well-being has been unknowingly compromised by a government that refuses to accept that you’re owed as much.”

Luce wasn’t a fool, the shock that would come with even the mention of one so many deemed a traitor would ripple through the crowd and likely paint a target on her back that none knew she already held. She wasn’t here to start an uprising, she wasn’t here to erupt chaos amongst them; but the seeds of doubt could run deeper than most imagined, rooted miles below the surface and near impossible to later remove. All she needed was this moment to plant them. “I will not keep the truth from you.” But she would twist and manipulate it in a way not unlike the ministry at all; though her hand would turn the tables and place every misconception their society might have had about the stability of their own government, foundations must be broken to rebuild.

“Three days ago,” The breath in her lungs seemed to catch with the facade of breaking such an oath to the now fallen minister, darkened lips pursed and after a few long passing moments of near silence, she lifted her shoulders and caught the reflective effects of every camera head on. “The Dark Lord walked past our every defense, slipped right in through those doors,” emphasized only be her willingness to gesture to the grand Ministry building, “Attacked dozens of people and murdered your minister without anyone knowing what how how it was happening, much less who it was, until it was much too late to do what we promised we would. He was not forced to claw his way in, we did not fight to stop him. Our confidence became our greatest weakness, our pride in a world that couldn’t possibly be so threatened became a gaping vulnerability that he was able to manipulate to an advantage that we will feel the weight of for longer than we will ever realize. The safety that we were so sure of failed because we were too blinded to see the faults that etched cracks in our system by our inability to see what was really going on.” The unsettled shift of the crowd before her was more than enough indication that Lucinda had already hit her own target, the smallest seeds of doubt already burying themselves in the ground. “This happened, because we have spent far too long clinging to the idea that this was as good as we were ever going to get. We cannot be fooled into thinking that we will never be more that we are through the timeless act of refusing to hear the truth when it is right there in front of us, hidden and manipulated into more lies by those who have deemed you, our public, our community, unworthy of hearing it simply because it paints us in a less than flattering light. If we want to be better, if we want to protect what is ours, what we love the most, the truth is the only way we will ever be able to do this. As your government, how can we expect you to protect one another without knowing every detail we know too? We are only as strong and as knowledgeable as you allow us to be.” It was near impossible not to feel the weight of those clinging to her every word, a somber speech turned to something build of revolution and yet brought to them in the confidence that she willed no uprising, just another chance. One chance, it was all they needed to rot the system from the inside out. “We failed you, but it will not happen again. This will not happen again. The Dark Lord will not succeed in flooding fear into our veins, neither will he tear us apart so easily without a fight.” The heaviness in such a statement brought her to a pause, a long trying moment for it to sink in, to stick with those teetering the edge of loyalties. It mattered little to her in which way they showed their favor, but failure did not deem favorable with Voldemort himself, and she’d yet to truly fail at all. “The minister is gone, and though he may now be at rest, we have a chance to change how we fight a war most of you didn’t know was here purely out of the cowardice of those now perished. You deserve the opportunity to make your mind up for yourselves, to fight and protect our world with everything we have, of which you can only do through knowing everything. You all deserve the truth.” Each word enunciated to near perfection as she lifted her head a little higher, dark tresses shifting to fall down her back as the every intense hue with an ever familiar regality to it that only few could truly manage. “And I will make sure you get it.”

[futurepoetlaureate]

Exposed

Million Dollar Answer

The million dollar answer

The beating question to a specific cancer

Finding a way to speak from the heart

The feeling has been there since the start

In the summer my heart use to melt

Because she never knew how I felt

Now I’m wondering who gets your love

Does anybody take you on flight with the doves?

Lost in my thoughts

Lord where have I been caught

A rock and hard place

My heart against the world it’s race

The memories forever hit like wind hitting chimes

I never thought any moment with her was wasted time

I been down many paths before

But I’ve never felt this way in my core

I use to think I shouldn’t catch feelings

Then God showed me the meaning

How to love?

The feeling of God’s love.

Perfect Fits

Let’s be honest

I’m just trying to be modest

Ever since I heard your name

And since the first time we met I put that memory in a frame

I never knew feelings could be complicated

I’m just hoping the energy can be replicated

Last night I had a dream of us walking on a white sandy beach

Even in my dreams God seems to try to teach

But the skies above were laced with doves

The sun rays felt like an unfamiliar love

Watching the waves crash across our feet

Just speaking the truth to you would be an amazing feat

Looking into your eyes is easy

I just want to be real and not cheesy

Sooner or later I’ll speak with you about it

I’m just puzzled if my place in your life will be a perfect fit.

Liquor & Misunderstanding

Last night my thoughts were freestanding

All because of the liquor and misunderstanding

A couple of things I’ve been keeping bottled up

A certain presence can make me shut up

It only takes one world to slip out of my mouth

My stomach dropped down to the Deep South

I probably lost my mind

After it’s gone it becomes hard to find

The nectar digs out the deepness thoughts

I’m trying not to get caught

But lately I haven’t said anything

Dreams of being on bended knee with a diamond ring

Lord my mind wants to sing

The heartbeat in my chest has its ping

Everything is going off

The lights won’t shut off

One night with the room spinning might not be as bad

After all it might make us all glad.

   Things Change

Trying to reach God but my faith was out of range

This shaking feeling within shook like pocket change

I barely keep the lights on

The weigh on my shoulders feels like a ton

Wondering if I can be the same person they feel for

The feeling of failure is hitting at my core

Walking in the footprints of my ancestors

I remember trying to get pass the long semesters

Years later I’m still learning

The feeling of success remains churning

I use to think the times would never change

The worst feeling I’ve felt has been not going to La Grange

Such a heavy burden

But in my heart is where the love occurred in.

Catching Fire

I know my zest for life is catching fire

Greatest story ever told with no intent to retire

God has everything going good

My faith has withstood

Even when I was knocked down on my knees

I never forgot he paid the price and our fees

Our admission

Speaking to God we sometimes make omissions

Like he didn’t know us before we knew ourselves

Unbound but put together by blood, sweat and tears we were taken off of the shelves

I’m deeper than before because of that

Now my feet feel welcome every time I cross the promise land’s welcome mat.

Young. Black. Gifted.

This moment in my life has shifted

God made me young, black and gifted

His presence made me comfortable

Even doing times of feeling uncomfortable

I felt like I was losing my grip

I was taught to tie up loose ends since people sometime trip

I wish life was as simple

On bended knee with God in his holy temple

Living freely under those heavenly stars

The feeling of greatness to me means being more than subpar

Everyday feels like Christmas

I found out during my journey of faith I could go the distance

I know God felt the resistances

I wanted to follow my heart versus the stars

A kind of burning in my chest

My mind was in its own unrest

Trying to remain against the grain

Only my tears at that moment acted as the rain

Deep down my thoughts helped me move comfortably

Everything done was purposely

The feeling of greatness can be replicated

Even when my life can be fairly complicated.

Traveler’s Rest

A travelling man with his bible

Decided to never follow the idols

I find my place under the sun

Against the hatred I decided never to run

Facing 20 years to life since I was born

Between love and hate I was torn

Wondering what was the American dream?

Trying to hold it together at the seams

I woke up to my greatness

But I swear who I thought was real was really blessed with fakeness

For those who believed I wouldn’t make it

Just watch me as I take it

The crown fit well on my head

Before these people live this world I hope they make their bed

Chasing clouds will lead you over the cliff

Jealousy among friends will cause riffs

The greatness things to life have nothing to do with colors

And people’s worth are not only define by dollars.

Pray

May we all pray?

Under the stars where we lay

Late nights like this it feels like May

My hearts wishes to stay

But it beats and remains on the go

Trying to bounce back from the bottom like a yo-yo

My mother use to tell me speaking of others out of names was a no-no

My future remains the greatest story not yet told

I swear somedays my heart has to be cold

A protected draft pick

Moving through the jungle my words have to be as slick as Rick

And if the sum becomes greater than the rest

Then there’s no equal at the end of God’s test.

 Burying Me In Gold

Feeling soulful

I’ve been talking about myself, boastful

The hatred never had me sold

But my love was buried in gold

The greatest story not yet told

I wanted to her heart so I had to be bold

I walked down from the mountaintop

Careful not to let my heart drop

These words I speak are worth more than gold

Walking up to her with a blindfold

I don’t where this encounter will go

My tongue tied up like a yo-yo

I saw a star shining so bright one night

Oh Lord what a sight

I didn’t have any physical gold

But my soul was filled with the greatest spiritual gold.

[psianabel]

KHUx Finale Part 2 (like, the final Finale) - Thoughts

I ... I don’t even know where to begin. Then again, I don’t think anyone can after this. It’s been a few days and I think I can finally sit down and write down some things. I was waiting for a global update, watching Damo’s stream, and then when it didn’t drop ... you know, somehow I feel like this was meant to be lol. For old time’s sake, one last time going through this hassle of translating the japanese on the fly. Being together with all these people, reacting at the same time ... this experience, nothing can ever replicate that. 

And boy oh boy was there a lot to react  ...

There were still so many things left open this finale had to adress, so getting into it ... i was so nervous jhgbfhgd  But, in the end I just have to say, it satisfied me. God, we got so much -  - One final MoM and Luxu scene, traitor Luxu confirmed, the Foretellers were meant to trap darkness, that whole scene is SO gorgeous.  - Brain saying goodbye to Lauriam, I’m so :(((((((( f u ck, he passed onto his “leadership” of the Union Leaders onto him and im SO sad just thinking about he forgets all this AAAAAAAAAAAA. I got a handshake and im so happy. Lauriam said he will see him again and I start crying again. - dont get me started on Ephemer, Skuld, Player. GODDDDD GOD GOD FUCK FUUUUCK FUCK. On one hand I would have kind of loved if Player was /really/ possessed by Darkness, as some kind of “oh yeah, you know how you’ve been using Guilt the whole time?” BUT YOU KNOW im good. No I’m not actually, because Ephemer’s last memory of Player being That “betrayal” wants me to lie down and cry forever. god this was good. This fight. I was wondering what the final boss would be ... never I would have expected it to be ... our best friends.  - UUUGHGG BRAIN AND LUXU. I was SO very looking forward to that, I KNEW they would meet. ... I was pspsps-ing the No Name keyblade so hard. Just ... this scene. Brain wanting to sacrifice himself to save his friends. Saying he will just stay here and live out his life ... god, god it breaks me. Brain “Friendship is a beautiful thing”, “Friends, cool” Kingdomhearts. FUUUUUCK MEEE. He truly ... truly cared about them ... and then, Luxu does, too huh ... god i was at the edge of the seat when this scene cut to black jdgbdfhgbd - I’m .. I’m fine with Player’s fate. With all of the Players. I saw it coming and honestly - the delivery was beautiful. There is one canon Player, but ... do you want to be the canon Player? Would you do this descision - in the end, if you don’t, another Player will take that place. And thinking like this, I feel happy for my Player. She’s at rest. (My Player’s name is Aquanort and I never felt so. ,,,, wellp I guess thats true-, ever before djgbfd). The Dream Eater thing hit me so hard. Oh god Chirithy ... thank you for always keeping us safe ... forever. - The Dearly Beloved credits music im just :(((((((( how hard can I cry? The answer is yes. - takes a deep breath. Everything after the credits destroyed me. fuck. f u c k For one I’m glad we finally see where Lauriam, Elrena end up in the future, and of course Ventus ends up in the keyblade graveyard hh. ... Brain ... Brain ... my love. god. GOD. LUXU YOUUUUUUU. YOUU. I wanted for Brain to have No Name, I wanted for Brain and Luxu to be friends, AND THIS WENT A LITTLE TOO FAR - puts head into hands. GOD. GOD!!!!!!!  (I’ll have to wait for the official english translation - but for now I would like to believe that Luxu did that to ... save Brain ...) - before I completely go into theory mode, ... Scala. Oh beautiful Scala, what has happened - god I love this design. Gives off such a different vibe. Was this your idea, Ephemer ...  thank you for giving me canon Scala Brain. God bless finally. I still do believe in the Ancestor Theory, yet I guess grandfather now comes close huh lol. I’m okay with this. Scala Founder Ephemer is just excellent. Look at him go. God I’m so proud of him. And Brain gonna step into his footsteps huh ... like the second in charge he always was. im so emo lmao - if Brain does take over, the sheer contrast between the two Scala designs we know now, ah, ... dark for Ephemer, light for Brain - I’d like to imagine they both each build it with the other one in mind, what they wanted it to be. Heh. Oh these two ...  - Luxu-Brain got my mind broken. Literally. I was soooo sooo confused. How could Luxu have taken his body as his first vessel, if Brain ended up in the future somewhere in Scala - the only explanation I currently have is, that Luxu “saved” Brain by taking his body, because Brain refused to leave Daybreak, sent his heart into the future, and with his hat acting as a Medium, Brain regained his body, just like Maleficent did in KH2. Brain in Scala immediately asks about the others, which is the last thought he had in the Ark room. If he’d remember the whole Luxu thing, I don’t think - no. That’s the only thing that my mind can accept for now lol. 

Brain is my favorite character from UX, he has been for the past years, and man ... my son ... I will miss you. All of these characters. I love hem so much. I’m so glad to be a fan of khux. Like I said in the beginning of this post, the experiences I had with this game, I cannot express it. 

I love KHUx. Not everything has been answered, but like every KH, that was to be expected. Dark Road is ending later this year and I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of what happened in this finale got touched upon. Now having it canon that Ephemer and Brain were in Scala ... give me the forbidden flashbacks, Dark Road.

Thank you, KHUx. With all these ups and downs, I will remember you for being the greatest.

I want nothing more than for these characters to meet again in the future. To tell each other about their lives. Find each other again as friends. 

That’s all I can say <3 thank you for reading.

May your heart be your guiding key.