#because i either did something that genuinely made someone feel targeted and harassed

[milfygerard]

@staff @support you sent me an email telling me that you removed a post from my blog, but I have no clue what post because the link you said is dead because you deleted the post before I could see it. I have no clue what was deleted or how it qualified as abuse or harassment. Not having a screenshot or aechive link to send me so I can actually see the post and, if the claim is not legitimate, appeal it, is massively unprofessional. Please either reinstate the post or tell me what it consisted of so we can move forward

[partyinthemysterymachine]

hello, everyone. this will be my first and only time i will be publicly addressing this. i am not answering questions about this, and for the first time ever, i am also disallowing anons.

first of all, i want to say that i've chosen to address this now out of my own volition. because i do not find it fair at all that i have felt that i could NOT address it at any point in order to maintain peace and harmony during, and in the wake of the event.

however, i feel that due to the nature of what happened, and the absolute damage that it has done to my mental health, that i must, in order to further my own recovery from it all, and as so no longer feel bullied into silence.

there will be no names mentioned. this is not a vaguepost. this is my formal statement for my own peace of mind and progressing on my path towards recovery.

if you know, you know; and if you don't, you don't.

so.

let's talk.

throughout this past year i have been the target of a smear campaign concerning GOOMT. it actually began late 2022, but escalated long into 2023.

what entailed was nothing short of bad faith reading and interpretation from someone whose skill in character analysis was something i'd admired. in fact, i had agreed many a time with how they'd interpreted characters and the world of Silent Hill. although my interaction with said person had historically been minimal, it had been civil, and i strived to be respectful of them.

i am unfortunately unsure of what caused this, or why it happened at all; and i do not think they know either. what i do know is that many upon many lies were told about what i write, and that it turned needlessly personal on many occasions. people were turned against me for one reason another, and i'm saddened to have seen this happen.

i stayed quiet during it all. i did what many people facing ruthless targeted harassment do, and pretended i didn't know in hopes of minimizing damage, and in hopes of responsible parties losing interest; but this did not happen. i was sent bad faith anons, i was subject to lies, and saw hypocrisy.

and i understood who they were and why they were here. they were looking for "gotcha's!" that didn't exist, digging for reasons to further vilify me.

worse, the bullying was praised. it was encouraged, and it was near-constant. a whole tag was created. the intent was to hurt and isolate me, and it did. it did hurt me, and it did make me feel isolated, and i withdrew quite a bit.

but i did not stop writing. it took longer for me to post, but i did not stop writing.

and moreover?

i REFUSE to stop writing.

i write a fanfic for a fandom i love. i am as how you see me and how i present myself. i'm enthusiastic and encouraging to others because that is genuinely how i feel. i LOVE to see others create. i LOVE to see the vast amount of interpretations, and silliness, and new OCs and pairings and OC/canon pairings, and i LOVE to see others thrive.

and i am in competition with exactly no one.

i did nothing wrong. i KNOW i did nothing wrong. i also know that those involved know that i did nothing wrong, and i did nothing to deserve the treatment i received, no matter how they try to justify it to themselves.

the behavior i faced, and how others reacted with encouragement and cheer is becoming too common and too normalized.

and it needs to stop.

i've been in therapy for the better part of my life. although i've been without a therapist since i've moved, i've finally found one to not only continue my lifelong recovery in other matters, but to help myself recover from what i faced this year.

i am extremely hurt. i know that this was the goal, and it has succeeded. if hearing this fills those involved with pride and glee, then something is wrong, because that should not elicit that reaction. i am extremely, deeply disappointed in those involved for this, and all the hypocrisy, and all the contradictions, and all the willful bad faith asks sent and posts made.

and i have done nothing wrong.

i do not hate anyone. i do not hate who started this, or even who engaged with them; and i never did.

it is okay if someone doesn't like what or how i write. in fact, i have made multiple posts about how i view my attitude towards my writing. one of the points i have made is that i encourage people who do not like what i write, to NOT read it.

there is a very old saying on fandom internet: Don't Like? Don't Read. now, this should be obvious, but the practice of hate-reading is an extremely unhealthy behavior that has, again, become unfortunately normalized in the recent handful of years.

unlearn hate-reading. you do not read to read anything you do not like. it, in many cases, can actually constitute as self-harm. and if you choose to do this, it is not the author's fault.

it is yours. and you need to take responsibility for your own actions.

there are people here who were needlessly cruel to me and who i feel do not feel a lick of remorse for what they've done. i hope some day that they can reflect with a clearer head and understand, and take some responsibility for their actions.

and i genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, with full raw sincerity, hope that they do get to heal; that they do learn and grow; that they UNlearn these toxic behaviors; are able to move away from people who exhibit them; find the courage and strength to stand up for themselves and/or others, to end the cycle; and that they understand that i do not hate them, and that i wish them full success in their future health and endeavors.

that said, i hope all involved will never forget the harm they have done. i hope they cringe. i hope it keeps them up at night, and i dearly hope they actually regret their actions, or at some point come to regret it.

i do not hate any one of them, and i won't. i never will.

and never will anyone involved ever be forgiven for it either.

most of all - and on a much lighter note - i want to say thank you to those who supported me during this time. your patience and reassurance has been a saving grace that words unfortunately cannot do justice. you are precious to me, and i love you all, and i hope that i can be just as strong and supportive to you in your times of need.

thank you too to all my readers, my followers, and my friends. i'm sorry to have been largely absent this past year, but this was the reason why. next year it will be better, not just for me, but for all of us. i promise. i love you all.

i also love me, my art, my writing as a whole, and myself. i am a tough cookie. i may have cried a lot, i may have gotten frustrated and angry, but i am human. i'm allowed to feel this way, and i will feel this way for a while as i heal, yet i refuse to be bitter; and i refuse to stop loving what i do.

because i love GOOMT. i love developing GOOMT, i love drawing for GOOMT, and i love writing GOOMT. i always will love GOOMT, no matter how many years more it takes for me to write it. so thank you to all who have read and enjoyed GOOMT, and have matched my enthusiasm for it and its future. i am so, SO blessed to have you here, and i am SO excited to spin my story.

and i am so, SO glad to be alive to be able to share my piece of this silly foggy world with you.

cheers, mates. i look forward to a new year, better health for me and all, and to what beautiful things we can create and share together.

i love you - and i promise that we will be okay.

for we are alive, and with wounds that WILL heal.

[raelle-writing]

DFF episode 5 thoughts:

Rambling some thoughts about the DFF characters, spoilers possible so I'm putting a cut

Jin - I was surprised that it seems like Jin isn't one of the bullies, I thought for sure he would be. Unless he's REALLY good at hiding how manipulative he is, he seemed to genuinely like Non (as a friend, I think) and wanted to befriend him. Especially since he fought back to his friends when they shit-talked Non... but then the question comes up, why is he friends with them if they're nasty and he's not? And why was he surprised at the way they talked to Non? Is he new to the group? Why did they accept him?

Tee - This episode made me a bit more sympathetic to him but also made me dislike him more at the same time? Because on the one hand he's in a really awful position where his uncle his using leverage of withholding the money Tee needs to help his sick father, and threatening to cut them off if Tee doesn't help with his criminal enterprise. And at the same time, Tee was so nasty and manipulative to Non I still had a hard time sympathizing with him. I'm interested to see how he and White got together, and if things with his dad resolve.

Top - Hated him, but I wish we'd gotten more depth. He doesn't seem to be part of the core of the friend group. He's just a mouthy hanger-on that doesn't have much beyond that, but I'd imagine his home life isn't good either since that's the direction the show has gone for the rest of the bullies.

Por - I felt bad for him, ngl. He had Regina George running the school vibes, but then his home life is tense. His mom babies and spoils him but his dad seems to disapprove of his entire life, and only care about Por as far as it extends to the dad's image. In the preview for the next episode, we see Por getting hit by his dad. It makes sense to me why he became the bitchy bully popular kid, since he has money but not love.

Fluke - He seemed to be part of the core of the group but also really quiet? Like it seemed like Tee, Por, and Fluke were the original three friends and the core of the group since they were the ones to convince Tee. But beyond that scene, Fluke seems really quiet and reserved. He's also the one to show disapproval of Tee and Top bullying Non and blaming the camera breaking on him, but he doesn't say anything about it or back up Jin.

Non - I wonder about him. He was presented as an entirely innocent victim this episode - but is he? He's taking medication for mental health issues, clearly. What kind? It is possible that he eventually snaps and causes something bad to happen... he shows s*icidal tendencies this episode, so is it possible he goes all the way later because of some of the bad stuff that Tee dragged him into? Or maybe he snaps and tries to hurt someone? I don't know, I'm interested to see what happens next. Currently I feel bad for him and wish the others would leave him alone, but we'll see if that changes over upcoming episodes.

Keng - Creepy. I liked him up until he pushed a ride on Non even tho Non didn't look like he wanted it. Now I wonder if he spotted a lonely, isolated kid and easy target and is harassing him... he could be the ❤️ in Non's phone. Idk but I don't trust him.

Questions I still have:

How did Keng end up dead? IS he really dead?

How does Tee's uncle play into all of this, as well as the money laundering with Non?

Did Non commit s*icide, did someone kill him, or is he still alive?

How does the politics and money laundering play into the broader plot?

How did Non end up going along to the vacation home when Por clearly doesn't want him to be there?

How does the cult play into all of this, if it does?

Are the present boys being haunted, or is it hallucinations? If it's a haunting, why did Top try to kill Jin when Jin was the nice one to Non, unless something goes wrong later?

Does Non like Jin? Does Jin like Non back?

Who is ❤️ in Non's phone?

How does the group not know if Non is dead or alive? Did his family never report him missing? Do they think he's abroad? What's going on there?

[lilyfreshwater]

not to put you on the spot but how do you feel about the whole jidon tommy incident where his fans were clearly being racist towards him and without video proof would��ve been canceled again for false claims all cause they didn’t “like his energy”. the only thing i can take from this is to NEVER go to a dsmp meet and greet because i would not be welcomed. imagine the shit they would’ve said to him if the camera wasn’t there 😭

so full transparency, i did not watch the full 30 minute video but i have watched the entire section jidion posted (including him talking about it) multiple times, and here's what i gathered. i think the fans saying that jidion was "harassing" them was inaccurate because to me that implies something being targeted. he wasn't yelling at anyone or saying mean things to them, he was just causing a commotion. however, i don't think he's necessarily cleared his name because he was still being quite rude and disrupting people's experiences at the meet and greet. i could see how someone could consider that harassment, and i think tommy was justified in calling him out for making people have a shitty time (i agreed with jidion's take on tommy's response and i'm glad he was able to be mature about it). i mean how would you feel if you're trying to meet your favorite creator and a guy is screaming his head off and calling them hot?

also, ive seen a lot of people call the fans racist for what they did and implying they would have said much worse stuff had there not been cameras, but i'm genuinely confused as to where the racism is. as far as i'm aware the only thing related to race that happened was jidion pointing out he was the only black person there, to which someone responded that they were mixed. i don't think the people saying they didn't like his energy was racially motivated, to me it seemed like they were pissed cause he was being rude. also i don't think they made any false claims. they said he harassed them, which in a certain light could be true especially if they were the ones he kept pestering about pokimane, they said he was yelling and being disruptive, which he was, and they said he was making weird comments, which he was as he literally called tommy "hot" seconds after the person said that

so i guess my take on the situation is, while i don't think jidion should have been demonized for targeted harassment of fans like people made it seem, i don't think he's off the hook either cause the dude was being an asshole. when people said he was harassing fans, the clips are pretty much what i imagined to have happened, so i'm struggling to understand how he's exonerated here

[ficforthought]

On being SO DONE with M*sha, a rant a decade in the making!

After giving this some thought I'm going to go ahead and give my opinion on Misha and yesterday’s situation in public for the first time ever. I was going to just post on Twitter but since this has been 12 years in the making I have exceeded the number of tweets I can put in one thread! There’s A LOT in here, so my summary is also long. I'm aware that I will lose followers over this, I'm not looking to offend anyone but it will inevitably happen. I wish anyone leaving all the best as fellow human beings.

TL;DR - having kept quiet for so long I’ve finally reached my limit and it’s all come bubbling out. I’ve never been a fan of Misha, I’ve been ambivalent for the most part, but have never criticised him in any hateful way, that's not who I am, but after all these years of putting up with his bullshit, attention seeking and troublemaking I am DONE. Deleting his tweet containing the word Wincest and replacing it with an APOLOGY just to pander to his Minions and save face is the straw that broke the camel's back. He has consistently pushed his ship on not only fans but on other actors (despite Jensen's discomfort, and him having repeatedly made his feelings known on it), he has stood by while his Minions/Hellers have harassed, victimised, doxxed and sent death threats to people based on their FICTIONAL ships. He has pandered to their gatekeeping, constantly demanded attention in obvious and not so obvious ways, and to the best of my knowledge never criticised their actions even though he's aware of it in a very real way. Some of his Minions have now taken their shit into The Boys fandom and created negativity for Jensen before the guy has even got a foot through the set door, and how is that supporting one half of your ship?

Misha has claimed to be a victim of targeted harassment from Wincest/brother fans (not only shippers) yet his fans have said and done the most despicable things on his watch, all in the name of what he must think is entertainment, or even his idea of a ‘joke’.

Any respect I had for the man based on his humanitarian work has gone because I can only take so much hypocrisy. He and his pandering because of a desperate attempt to be woke and wholly inclusive (which is actually impossible, no matter how good intentions are) are beyond pathetic. Whilst I have never seen why people think he’s so great I have friends IRL and online who genuinely adore the man, yet they have been shocked and upset by his contempt for half of the fandom that made him somewhat famous. It's disgusting and I'm not scrolling by any more. Misha, I hope to never see you on anything J2 related in future because none of us need that kind of negativity, *especially* not J2. Be gone, foul fiend!

OK, so to the too long part. Please be aware that these are my opinions as a fan of the show, of Sam and Dean, and J2, not only as a shipper. I can separate canon and fanon, and can view canon from a gen or shippy PoV. Whether you agree or disagree with my opinion let me be clear that I do not condone constant bashing and hate of a person or character so this isn’t the start of a regular thing for me. It's possible to have an opinion and not show the same vitriol that has been following this man around for years, and that’s what I’m doing. I've not posted this to prompt more negativity, it's simply to get it off my chest and make it clear how I feel. I stand by my philosophy of ship who you want to ship, enjoy it, but don't force it on other people and don't be a dick about it…hmm, that kinda sounds like familiar behaviour, though, does it not?!

I have ABSOLUTELY NO ISSUE with other people liking Misha, Cas or Destiel when it’s for the love of the characters and the ship. What I *do* have an issue with is people who are the true definition of a Heller. I don’t see that as a generic term, don't be ignorant and think I do because I know the difference between actual ship fans and the crazies, both ships have ‘em and I want no part of either of their venom. If you are reading this and class yourself as a Heller then you are part of the problem so run along and as you are all so fond of saying, 'get help' and take your bestie king with you.

I’m stating my opinion in what I feel is the most mature way I can, because unlike many people on SM, I am an adult and can act accordingly, with forethought and without resorting to temper tantrums and bullying of other people to get my point across. I am able to tell the difference between reality and fiction, I don't tar everyone with the same shipper brush and I don't expect everyone to agree with my opinion, but as we know opinions are like arseholes, we all have them and sometimes they stink. Unlike some, for the most part in life (online and offline) I *do* stand by what I say and don’t backtrack or delete things to appease the masses. I have spent a lot of time writing this out to be as clear as possible without being intentionally hateful. Bear with me jumping between actor and character where relevant, at this point they're conjoined. I will say this before I go any further, it doesn’t end well for Misha, I don’t mince my words and if you don’t like seeing facts and opinions laid out, this isn't the post for you.

I’ll say right off the bat what most of you have surmised - I’ve never held Misha (or Cas) in high esteem but I have never *hated* on him. I have shared mild criticism of his actions and opinions on Cas over the years but never, I feel, in any way that has made me feel I have something to apologise for. I have said several times I've been unhappy about Misha crashing con panels, taking attention away from J2 when at those cons *most* people paid their hard earned money to see the STARS of the show they love, first and foremost, and anyone else is a very nice bonus. The odd appearance here and there crashing a panel is fine (and Misha isn’t the first or last person to do it), maybe take up a few minutes then leave, but when someone commandeers an entire panel, that's just not on. It's not only selfish, rude and attention seeking but also disrespectful to other actors, fans and to the organisers who work hard to make sure everything ties in to give us the best con experience we can have. Everyone gets their turn on stage, there's no need to try and hog any more of the limelight, Veruca Salt style. Oh, and if you’re reading this and not getting that reference, (a) you shouldn’t be on my blog because you’re far too young, (b) look it up, and if you still don’t get what I’m saying… well then please refer to point (a). Thank you, kindly!

There was a time in Kripke's era where Cas was - I feel - intentionally used as a pawn by the writers to divert *canon* from the ‘questionable’ relationship between Sam and Dean, i.e. Wincest focus. Prior to that people (other fans) lightened up and just accepted the fact that Wincest had been there since day one in terms of the writing of the show and the fandom. All the cast and crew knew - J2, Kripke and JDM in particular - and made light of it, never judging, never shaming and often encouraging it because they understand it’s a fun part of fandom. Wincest was present enough to be part of the not so subtle subtext, as I said people just accepted it. Kink tomato was alive and well, so was ‘don’t like, don’t read’ and we all just scrolled over things we didn’t like without turning everything into a personal vendetta and excuse for bullying others who didn’t share our views. When the angels came into the plot I think most of us Wincest fans gave the Dean/Cas innuendos the small laugh they deserved and then turned back to the focus of the show which was the brothers, as it had always been intended. Misha, however, milked those moments as much as possible which was amusing at the start but got old *very* quickly, not just for fans (shippers and non shippers alike), but for other actors, in particular Jensen who is on record MULTIPLE times showing his dislike for Destiel. He told people outright that's not how he was playing the relationship between the two characters and CATEGORICALLY said "Destiel doesn't exist" but did it end there? No, it did not because neither fans or Misha let it go, in fact Misha only pushed more, goaded fans into flogging the same dead horse as much as possible. He’s never stopped, not even when there was so much discord in the fandom, a huge wedge was driven into it because of ships, which IMO he heavily contributed to.

Fast forward to over a decade later (a decade, seriously man, let it fucking go!) he didn’t even stop when Destiel did partially go canon. I have never doubted that Cas loved Dean (Sam, too) because in SPN lore angels are made to love, even rebellious ones. I, along with many others, liked that about Cas because who doesn't love a rebel, especially one rebelling for very good reasons, and because of those two wonderful men? Sam and Dean allowed him to see beyond what he'd been brainwashed to believe his entire existence. The fact is that although the nature of that love changed for Cas, it never did for Dean and was CANONICALLY UNREQUITED because Dean was incapable of loving anyone else as much as he loved Sam. All that mattered to Dean, even when he saw other characters as "family" was still Sam…ALWAYS Sam, every step of the way. Again for those who have too much Misha shaped wax in their ears, that’s canon. Whether people choose to see that love platonically or romantically is up to them, soulmates don't always have to be romantic, either way, brotherly love won out above all else on the show. No amount of Misha screaming ‘hey look, Destiel!’ changed that, but it sure didn’t stop him trying, did it?

So now that the obvious has been stated, here's something else we all know - never once in all of the years on the show did Misha drop rallying of the troops to his precious, ego stroking ship. Never once (that I am aware of) has he called out his Minions and Hellers on their continued harassment of everyone involved in the show and other fans despite the fact that they have bullied, victimised and wished bodily harm, rape and death on people who don't see their ship and because didn't get the ending to the story that they wanted. Not once has Misha shown any remorse for the trauma his "fans" have caused, and I’m taking REAL trauma, here, not the kind Twitter stans see as ‘triggering’ - people have been driven to close SM accounts, attempted, and in some cases succeeded in taking their own lives. These Minions have openly mocked Jared’s struggles with depression and anxiety, and Misha - who claims to be friends with J2 and be supportive of them in every way  - has stood by and let it all play out, knowing full well some of the goings on, if not the full extent of how toxic these people are. We know he sees things being said online, and I have absolutely no doubt he spends time online searching his name for things that are relevant in some way to him in an effort to insert himself into a current conversation, or even start one so that attention is on him. Gotta stay relevant, somehow, right, Mish?

He has actively encouraged bullying by his actions of enabling the behaviours above, both by the flogging of the aforementioned dead horse, AND by not objecting to unacceptable behaviours. Remember when Minions and Hellers were slating J2, particularly Jared, for not posting on SM about BLM and other topics? Yeah, he didn’t ask them to stop doing that, either, even when he was tagged in things along the lines of ‘If Misha can post why can’t J2?’ etc. There have been some token protests, con vids I've seen have show his 'objections' which IMO have been done in a very tongue in cheek way, meaning that those people who needed to be pulled aside and told to change their ways just carried on, because their evil overlord didn’t explicitly explain it in terms a three year old could understand that bullying and forcing your opinion on others is WRONG. Not all of his cult are young and impressionable, not by a long shot, but many of the more vocal and vitriolic ones are.

As a father himself I wonder what Misha would do if he found out that his kids were behaving in ways his Minions are? I’m aware they’re young, but kids are cruel and bullying doesn’t just happen online. Even at whatever age they are, would he laugh it off the way he appears to have done with all of this fandom toxicity? Not bloody likely! I wonder if he’s as desperate to gain the approval of his family, friends and colleagues as he appears to be for that of his Minions/Hellers? I would certainly hope so, but that question can only be answered by Misha, himself, and I can and will not presume to speak on someone else's behalf on things in their personal life. For the record I would never presume I know what J2's answers would be on anything, however I do feel that after 15 years I have an accurate gauge on what kind of people they are so would be confident that any opinion I had on a matter aligns with their morals and ethics. As much as J2 have shared of themselves with us - willingly and under no pressure to do so, I might add - we don't *know* them, but we know enough to have an informed opinion. I can’t say the same for Misha because based on the behaviour he’s repeatedly displayed, things I've heard about from other fans as well as people I know IRL who have had direct dealings with him through cons or GISH (including some very actively in the early days when it was GISHWHES) he just hasn’t seemed like a person I wanted to follow on SM. I’ve never watched any of his solo panels, though I have watched ones with both or one of the J's, mostly being left irritated because of his behaviour. Watching the J’s put up with that shit is painful, and it’s a testament to how good they are as actors that they managed to hide at least some of their disdain for as long as they did. Microexpressions give them away, particularly Jensen, and they certainly have faces I have spent many years watching closely. Beautiful faces to go with beautiful souls, both of them! <3

I have precisely ZERO interest in Destiel as a ship, very little interest in Cas as a character anymore (though I did like him in the early days,and his relationship with Jack in late seasons) so I have absolutely no reason or desire to follow anything Misha does. That said, I've obviously been peripherally aware of some things he's been involved in because of friends, from things I’ve seen on SM and general fandom stuff. Despite the things I've already mentioned about his behaviour, up until now I have been able to maintain a level of respect for him as a person because of the humanitarian and charity work he's done. He seems like someone who really does want to change the world for the better and I am in full support of that fact, so much so that I have supported TWO campaigns relating to him. I bought one of the Super Good t-shirts for the campaign he did with Michael Sheen (a true angel!), the SPN/Good Omens x-over to help homeless charities, and I chose the design with text only and not artwork of Michael and Misha on, basically because I didn’t want to be wearing something with Misha’s face on it and I make absolutely no apology for that, whatsoever. I also bought Alex's #TheEndHasNoEnd shirt, which some of the profits went to Random Acts who do great work, so again, despite not liking Misha I still willingly contributed for a cause bigger than me, and to support Alex, who I absolutely ADORE. I'm aware that Stands aren't popular with some of the fandom, however since most of the cast of SPN are happily affiliated with them then I don't feel it's my place to either judge, or to discuss topics I know next to nothing about. But I digress, as a decent human being I have shown support tangentially to a man who I don't care for out of respect for the work he does outside the fandom. Telling you this isn’t to paint myself in a good light - I don’t need your approval, I’m a big girl, unlike some I don’t need constant validation! - only to provide background on how I’ve actively *not* hated on Misha.

Now though, any respect I had for him has come to an abrupt end, the events of the past 24 hours has seen to that. Whilst I have been annoyed at his behaviour in regards to shipping, I don't feel it's ever gone this far, or at least not that I've seen first hand. This man has, IMO, contributed to so much toxicity in the fandom by way of things I've mentioned before, he's claimed - without actually saying the words - that Wincest fans weren't interested in him as a character when he came onto the show, and hasn’t felt included because of the fans’ love of the brothers. Um, hate to break it to you, love, but when you come onto an established show that is about two people, and you’re a *guest star* you can’t expect everyone to love you. Some characters we as individuals do fall in love with straight away (Bobby, Charlie, Crowley and Rowena are good examples for me), it takes time to establish a dynamic, so if that’s how he felt then it was incredibly naive of him as an actor to expect instant acceptance from anyone. Also, why wait until after the show finished to bring it up AGAIN … oh wait, yeah, that would be to step back into the limelight in a way intended to garner sympathy from Minions and INTENTIONALLY piss off bro fans and Wincest shippers alike? How fucking self centred, desperate and disrespectful do you have to be to shit all over the finale of a show that for the most part accepted you and kept you in paid work for 12 years? Well, Misha Collins levels of all of those things, obviously.  

So, on the topics of self centred, desperate to stay relevant, attention seeking and being oh so needy, the tweet yesterday from Amazon mentioned Castiel. He wasn’t tagged in it, so I refer to my earlier comment about searching online, because how else would he have possibly seen that? It’s possible someone sent it to him, I appreciate that, but if we go off past behaviour it’s not any stretch at all to believe that didn’t happen. So, once again, having seen the tweet he took it upon himself to - oh so predictably - turn it into something relating to Destiel. When I saw it I immediately rolled my eyes and thought ‘here we go again’, but then also had a little smile because I really liked the fact that he explicitly mentioned Wincest, therefore seeming to accept that his poor old dead horse wasn’t the only one in the race. I actually mentally tipped my hat to him then because it appeared that he’s matured enough to acknowledge by name the ship that predates his inclusion on the show. Great, I thought, this is a positive thing in a sea of negativity surrounding the man and his sunken ship, because what followed was Wincest trending in the US (it may also have been other countries as well but I had to sleep!) … largely due to the fact that Hellers were responding to it, calling him out on mentioning the dreaded ‘W’ word. I’ll repeat that because it’s been a rare occurrence up to that point… the Minions were actually disappointed with their overlord for mentioning another ship. We all know what they think of it and I for one, don’t give a flying fuck about their opionion. Ship and let ship, it’s all fun (or meant to be) so we have different tastes, that’s life kiddiwinks, deal with it. I mean, you really don’t have much of an example set for you when your king has proven several times over to be one of the biggest obnoxious brats out there, but just give it a try for your own sakes, yeah? Awesome, good on you, besties!

An unexpected development - to my joy and that of other Wincest shippers - them doing that got the topic trending, only *kept* trending by the fact that were all coming online asking why it was trending. Wincest shippers barely lifted a finger, we just flooded each other’s timelines with lovely content and basked in the Hellers - and Misha - shooting themselves in the foot, which was awesome. But did the vitriol stop? No. Did he get the attention he so clearly craves? Yes. Was it in the way he wanted? Fuck no, so poor, emotionally wounded baby backtracked after seeing that his name was trending alongside Wincest because that’s *so* not what someone narcissistic to do it in the first place, wanted.

Now here’s where I could easily have just moved on with an unusually fond chuckle, giving him an ironic pat on the back and a ‘thanks, Misha’ for being the one to instigate hours of fun, but once again his despicable behaviour made that impossible. It’s been more than obvious for many years that he cares more about what his fans think than anything else to do with the show and the fandom in a larger sense, but to delete the tweet and APOLOGISE for daring to be so insensitive to the snowflakes’ delicate sensibilities for mentioning Wincest in the first place was absolutely disgusting. Stating , “I used a term that I had never really given any thought to other than, "that's a thing?! Yuck." is not only complete and utter bullshit, it’s pandering of the highest order.  

We all know he has referred to Wincest on multiple occasions, so to say he hadn’t thought about is a flat out lie, which IMO is an insult to everyone, not just Wincest shippers. Does the man have no self respect at all, why would you contradict yourself in the face of such overwhelming evidence? Instead of either ignoring all the people calling him out, or addressing it with another tweet saying ‘yeah, that happened’ or something similar he chose, I repeat, CHOSE the route of claiming he didn’t realise he was being offensive to people who felt ‘triggered’ by him using the word Wincest. He basically shat all over an entire ship and large sector of the fandom in an attempt to appease his own fan base which consists of a lot of children (or those that act like children) who have no idea what RL is like.

Once again, he’s reinforced the idea that if you shout loud enough at someone just because you don’t like something they said, they will back down and apologise for something even when there’s nothing to apologise for. If he wants to be such a role model then he could easily have pointed out that a fictional ship doesn’t condone RL incest, any ACTUAL trauma people have suffered because of RL situations, and made an effort to make sure people understand that. He COULD have used it as an opportunity to do some good in the fandom by encouraging people to build bridges, to accept that people are entitled to their beliefs and that sometimes we see things differently but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t treat others with BASIC HUMAN DECENCY because of it. Instead he YET AGAIN chose to show that he cares more about what Minions think of him, keeping them onside to constantly stroke his unbelievably fragile ego in everything he does.

It is my understanding that Misha is big on (or claims to be big on) putting positive energy out into the world, treating people with respect, helping others and accepting people for who they are, not who you want them to be… all this after YEARS of consistently practising what he preaches only when it suits him. He sends out a message that it’s perfectly OK to bully, to spread hate, to draw attention to yourself at the cost of others, to throw colleagues and friends under the bus and at the same time use them to further your own agenda and get hits for your YouTube channel. Is this really the legacy he wants to leave? Is this an environment he wants his own kids to grow up in as well as future generations? Is this what he thinks is a valuable contribution as a human being? JFC, the arrogance, hypocrisy and the need for constant validation this man exhibits is nothing short of cringeworthy… actually it’s beyond that. It’s deplorable behaviour, it’s not new, and he will continue to act like this for as long as he’s being enabled and this harmful cycle needs to end.

I have friends IRL and online who are (now, possibly, were) big Misha fans, who have supported him from either the beginning of his run on the show, or since they started watching, and this is how he repays this behaviour? He’s willfully alienating decent people (including multishippers) all to make himself look good by being seen to do everything he can not to offend people. Spoiler alert, you DID offend people, you continue to do so time and again and we’ve had enough. I can’t imagine how exhausting it must be to be such a perpetual people pleaser, but let me say it’s not doing you any favours in any way, shape or form.

Misha, you are *not* a role model, you’re *not* someone to look up to when you can't live up to the ideals you preach. You’re spitting in the face of people who have supported you even after some questionable things in the past, who gave you the benefit of the doubt because we’re all human and we all make mistakes. The key to growing as a person is not to keep repeating the same mistakes over and over, understanding *why* what you said and/or did was a mistake and making a concerted effort to make changes. I don’t ever see you doing that, you will continue down this path of only caring about Minions under the guise of caring for people in general. You are transparent, you are sad and despite the fact I’ve never particularly liked you, I didn’t speak up because I didn’t want to get involved in the drama. Well now I have spoken up and I’m saying you’re a disgrace, you have no respect for other people and nobody is fooled anymore. If it hadn’t been this tweet it would have been something else, but I for one am glad it happened so soon after the show ended so we can finally be rid of the limpet-like behaviour. It’s over, let it go for the sake of what dignity you might have left, for the sake of your family and friends and for the sake of anyone who isn’t capable of seeing through your ‘it’s a joke’ mentality.

You have been weighed, you have been measured and you have been found wanting. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, Misha.

For anyone who made it to the end of my ramble, thank you. This has been a cathartic exercise and I’m drawing a line under it now, I don’t think I could possibly make my thoughts any clearer. I urge you not to get caught up in any petty squabbles with his Minions, let’s celebrate J2 and other cast and crew members who have shown us all respect and who I am proud to call part of the SPN family. There’s always one member of the family who needs to be frozen out for the good of everyone else.

[neon-junkie]

Hey everyone,

This will be my final post addressing the fandom conflict that has quite frankly gotten out of hand. Although it’s very likely this post will be picked apart, no matter how well intended it is, I will no longer be addressing, interacting, or responding to any further accusations made against me. Of course, if people have questions from a genuine place of interest, I will be happy to clarify anything for you, either via DM’s or non-anon asks. I will not be answering anonymous asks on this, as I do not want anything else posted on this topic. 

As a side note: For anyone tempted to wade into the debate, I sincerely ask you not to get involved. Do not make yourself a target, do not feel you need to ‘pick a side’, and please do not think you have an obligation to reason with either side. It seems to be well past the point of that, so please find people you get along with in this fandom and curate a space for yourself away from all this conflict.

Warning: This post will contain uncensored slurs, mentions of racism, paedophilia, transphobia, LGBTQ+ phobia, death threats, threats of violence, targeted harassment, and abusive language.

To start off, I want to apologise to everyone who has somehow gotten drawn into this mess by either defending me, following me, or interacting with my content. This whole situation with me began well over a year ago when I wrote a crack-smut fic featuring Javier/Micah, posted back in August 2019. A crack fic is defined as “a work of fan fiction that is absurd, surprising or ridiculous, often intentionally.” It was inspired by a camp interaction between Micah and Javier, and like many other fanfiction writers, I decided to write smut about it. The fic was titled ‘Dirty Fucking Greaser’, and if that shocks you, I’m sure you can imagine how shocked I was to be informed afterwards that ‘Greaser’ was in fact a very serious 19th century slur for a Mexican individual. My first encounter with this word as insult was via RDR2, where it was used like a very casual insult. My only prior knowledge of this term was in regards to the greasers youth subculture, so the severity was lost on me. This obviously does not excuse my ignorance, and I should have researched the term better, but this is just again to apologize for that oversight, the insensitivity, and to highlight that my use of this term was not meant maliciously. Following this being pointed out, I proceeded to make 3 separate apology posts [Unfortunately I can only find the third one: HERE], renamed the fic, and added slur warnings in both the tags and the fic description. When I continued to receive complaints and increasingly aggressive abuse (which included being told my apologies weren’t good enough and I should delete my account and even kill myself), I attempted to delete the fic and mistakenly abandoned it instead. I contacted AO3 to see if it could be removed, but they said there was nothing they could do. I contacted their DMCA takedown team, who also said they couldn't remove it. Please note that all this happened 7-8 months ago, and has been dragged on for almost a year. 

So, from this one unfortunate incident, I’ve been branded a racist, and someone who attacks POC, when all I have done is tried to defend myself and correct my past mistakes. I could have done this more gracefully in the past, but frankly when you’re suddenly the target of unrelenting callout posts and nasty anons, it’s very hard to be open to criticism of this sort, but this is what I’m trying to move past.

Over the course of the year, this one mistake has spiralled, and the crusade against me has somehow coincided with moral conflicts over certain characters and ships. This has devolved into dehumanizing abuse, witch hunts, death threats, doxxing, anon hate, and much more unpleasant behaviour.

I have been in fandom for a very long time, and at the heart of all fandom circles is the fear of censorship and subsequent purges, so the ‘ship and let ship’ mentality was more or less the pinnacle of fandom philosophy. And yes, this can be problematic in some contexts. People have their right to be uncomfortable with content, have a right to be offended by content, but that is not content meant for you. This argument has devolved into ‘what material is morally right to engage with’ and that is a mentality in which fandom will not survive, because for every person who is telling me I’m an awful person for writing about Micah, there are three other people telling me how much they appreciate me making that content. For every fic in which I characterize Javier and Flaco a certain way, some people are made uncomfortable by it and others tell me they enjoy it. And this isn’t just white people, but POC too, which makes it very difficult to know whether I am genuinely in the right or the wrong, especially when it comes to the concept of ‘fetishization’ which I have been made aware I need to educate myself on. I intend to do so, but I disagree with the common accusation that finding non-white men romantically and sexually attractive is inherently fetishistic and makes me racist. It’s pushing a catch-22; don’t find POC sexually attractive? Racist. Find POC sexually attractive? Racist.

I am always willing to be (politely) approached about anything my readers may be concerned about, but if it’s something I’ve specifically tagged for (such as themes, scenarios, etc.) I’m afraid you consented to reading it and with that I cannot help you. You are just as responsible for curating your space and what you see/read just as much as I am responsible for tagging it appropriately.  

On the topic of racism, I want to bring up my prior use of ‘white racism’ which has obviously been a point of contention among both white and people of colour. The (literal) black vs white concept of racism is incredibly American-centric, and as someone from Europe, which has a history of oppression against white cultures and those of people of colour, it feels inaccurate. However, this has recently been discussed with me and I came to the realization that while growing up, especially in the UK, ‘xenophobia’ and ‘racism’ were marketed as one and the same. So, with this little revelation in mind, I will no longer be using ‘white racism’ (Or ‘reverse racism’) to identify the abuse I have been receiving, but will instead call it by what it really is; dehumanizing, debasing, xenophobic, puritanical.   

Very briefly, I will also touch on the NewAustin situation, which has also been dredged into this. I did not ‘chase a POC from tumblr’. NA was a minor who for some reason was on my 18+ blog and took issue with me, likely from the ongoing discourse regarding my fic and initial mistake, as well as my interest in Micah. They were subsequently harassed into deleting their account by anonymous hate following various conflicts with other users for their support of me or their ships in general. I have never encouraged my followers to target anyone, and have always asked to be blocked and blacklisted by those who do not like me or my content. When NewAustin messaged me following the deletion of their blog, I was admittedly indifferent to the point of being unkind, and accused them of sending the hate themselves. This was based on the anon hate being racially-driven without there being any prior knowledge or publication that NA was a person of colour. This aside, I should have at the time, whether I believed it was my followers or not, condemned this behaviour. Regardless of the issues I’ve had with these people, it is never ever ok to send hate to anyone, no matter the motivation behind it, and that should have been stated at the time.

All I can do at this point is acknowledged and apologize for my past mistakes, and try to improve myself going forward.  

It is not my place to dictate the morals of the character/ship-aspect of this argument, and I am not interested in waging a war of opinion. This post is simply to clarify how I am involved in this, and why I am so viscerally targeted. You can draw your own conclusions, but I am no longer interested in this endless back and forth.

To my mutuals/followers, I stand by my request to not interact and to block and move on, as this is what I’ll be doing too.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope it makes things from my perspective a little clearer.

-RAT <3

EDIT: Just after this post was made, the fic in question was finally removed. I had to go through a DMCA take down, which can take months, since I originally abandoned the fic, thinking that meant delete. I explain this in more detail above. Said fic is gone, and has been gone since this post has been around.

[sadachmesarthim]

yes this is a rewrite, feel free to fry my ass on anon about it.

content: starker being mean to each other, peter parker has Supportive Friends™, tony has daddy and mommy issues, quentin beck is a Mean Boss™, smoking, secondhand smoke.

word count: 3.0k

square filled: coffee shop au  -> link to playlist here

part two is here!

a little vocab lesson before continuing: mobster = really high up in the chain of command for this group of coffee shops. they go around training new hirees, and often decide who gets to move up the line of command. they get to travel on company money, and are very well respected in the workplace. mobsters usually come in groups - siblings, hires from the same groups, etc. 

Tony didn't like Richland.

Sure, okay, it was a serious step up from Federal Way. He was free from his parents, he could do whatever he wanted in a house all to himself, no one knew who he was - it was a refreshing change, one he definitely needed now that he was graduated, all grown up.

He'd moved back east about two months ago. He'd wanted to get as far away from home as possible, stretch his legs - he went under the guise of missing his grandma, wanting to go to school. He wasn't a terrible liar, either. Howard and Maria'd eaten it up, encouraging him to go as soon as he could.

"If you go now, you could get there in time for summer classes. Maybe even get a job before they stop hiring seasonally. You never know, but you might as well try!"

So here he was. Still jobless, still not yet enrolled in school. Enjoying his time in the (now autumn) sunshine, biding his time before he ran out of money. He'd planned well - he had enough cash to keep him covered for a while, as long as he didn't go blowing it.

He'd blown it.

He was a sucker for good coffee, though, and he missed Outback. He'd worked at one back home for almost a year before he left, and now... now, it was like an itch he couldn't scratch - he needed the interaction, needed to go make friends. He was too much of a social butterfly.

Yet again, he found himself in his truck, on the way to the nearest stand. He was pathetic, really. Here he was, wasting more money on coffee, when he could be out hiking or climbing or... literally doing anything else.

He knew it was worth it the second he pulled in. The cutest kid was running lines that day - shorts hugging his tight ass deliciously, in a way Tony knew his operator would get in trouble for if a Mobster or Coach saw.  Christ, they lettin' just anyone work here now, that it?

He had to keep his thoughts to himself, though - the kid had just finished the cars in front of him, and was headed straight for Tony, iPad in hand. He took a breath, putting on his best poker face. He needed a fucking cigarette.

"Hey handsome! Welcome to Outback, what're we drinkin' today?" Shit, he's cute. All bright and cheery - it might be fake, sure, customer service voice and all - but boy, did he play the part well. All big eyes and wide smile. He looked up at Tony expectantly, right hand hovering over the screen of the runner iPad. Shit, he still has to order something.

"Hi, just a small iced white vanilla breve please." Tony watched as the kid pressed a few spaces on the tablet, shocked at how fluidly he moved. Tony'd never seen him at this location before, but he obviously knew what he was doing. Location transfer, maybe? Mobster? He wasn't sure.

"Perfect! I've got you in - anything else, love?" God, he was too much. There's no way this was just the sickly facade Outback enforced - no, this was all him. "Nah, I'm okay. I'm paying card today, too." He reached his hand out for the tablet, wanting to tip this kid specifically.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, this card reader's broken. The one up at the window's working though! My girl Maia'll be up there waiting for you!" He turned with a smile, skipping off to the next car.

Jesus, who was this kid? And what did Tony have to do to see him again?

•|||•

Return an application, apparently.

Maia, the girl at the window, had let him know that they were hiring. He didn't have to feign interest - he had relevant experience, could work his way up if he needed to - and he'd get to see the mystery boy again. She'd ran and grabbed a small stack of papers for him, which he dutifully filled out and brought back a couple of hours later.

The closing shift lead had briefly interviewed him, practically giving him the job on the spot. Apparently she'd met his sister on a Mob trip, before - it paid to have connections, but damn... someone in town already knew who he was. Oh well. Not a big deal. These were still new people, fresh faces - he could make a clean reputation for himself, a fresh start...

It was exactly what he needed. And if he needed to use a bit of his influence with his sister to get it... so be it.

•|||•

"Emma, please, just... don't be a dick when he calls you. I need this job, it'll be good for m-"

"Save it, Tony. I don't want your excuses. If I say I'll do it, will you leave me alone?" She was being unusually short with him. Fuck. She and Rhodey were fighting again.

"Yes, yes, anything. Thank you so much." He was met with a bored sigh.

"Whatever, dude. I'll put in a good word. Talk to you later." She hung up before he could say anything else. Whatever - it wasn't the worst conversation he'd had with his sister, but it left a lot to be desired.

They hadn't been doing well since she & Rhodey got together. It was on-again-off-again... and they were honestly both to blame. Neither one of them was good at commitment, and it showed.

It put strain on both of their relationships with Tony, and didn't do much to help keep him in Federal Way. He sought comfort in the isolation of a new town, but it didn't seem to be helping anything.

Leaving never did, but it was really all he knew how to do.

•|||•

Peter hadn’t been at Outback long, but he’d enjoyed every minute of it.

He’d gotten hired almost immediately after graduation, not wanting to waste a second of his summer not making money. It was a bit of a difficult transition - he wasn’t a big fan of Beck, his boss, and training was really overwhelming. But after he’d hit that twelve week mark... it’s like something just clicked.

He was a whiz on bar, he was making friends right and left. He and Maia’d even gone to get tattoos together a couple weeks ago during a flash sale. He was getting faster and faster at running cars, he knew almost all of his regular customers. He genuinely felt like part of the family.

That didn’t really change when Beck hired a new group, either. There weren’t too many of them, helping keep their group small. They’d been spending a bit of time in the stand here and there, going over the rules, the ins and outs of making coffee, taking their menu test.

The three he was introducing today seemed okay enough. He just barely caught the tail end of Beck's “congrats on becoming a full employee” monologue before the man set the fresh meat loose. Not that they could really go far - it was maybe a good spit's distance from corner to corner. But, if it helped them get their bearings...

He was pulled from his thoughts before they could take off too far. “Hey, Parker! Come say hi to the green beans!”

•|||•

The red haired girl was nice enough. They'd introduced themselves, exchanged snap usernames, gushed over Peter's tattoos, and bonded over the typical new job anxiety. He'd forged a sweet new friendship with Bri, and was hopeful she'd stick around. He'd seen people like her get chewed up and spit out in this industry, and he liked her.

The tall guy... was pretty boring, actually. He stayed on his phone for the majority of the introduction, opting to ignore Peter entirely. It was fine - he'd probably be gone by the end of the month. Not like they’d miss him - he barely passed his menu test, from what Peter’d overheard.

Then came Mr. Short, Dark, and Brooding - Tony, apparently - Peter remembered him from a few weeks ago. He’d given Peter a poorly concealed once-over, tried to take the runner iPad from right out of his hands... if he wasn’t so attractive, Peter’d pin him for a fuckboy.

Despite how much he looked like he’d wanted to back then, when given the opportunity, he didn’t really engage with Peter. He apparently wasn’t the type to keep eye contact, go in for a hug, make small talk. 0 for 2. Disappointing. Oh well. That’s fine - Peter was perfectly content as the only guy at this location (sans Beck, of couse). Too much testosterone didn’t foster a healthy working environment, and they all knew it.

The girls, especially. They all gushed over Peter - apparently being the token gay guy in the stand somehow made him exempt from the targetted harassment. Nearly every guy they’d hired had left within 9 months - coffee was definitely a female-dominated field.

Peter was excited to see how these two fared.

•|||•

The tall guy was gone within a week. Didn’t even leave notice, just up and stopped showing up to his shifts. Not that it was the end of the world - he was still in his probationary period, so he wasn’t even making tips. No sweat off Peter’s back.

Bri did really well, in comparison. Beck was unusually strict with her - lashing out during her initial first shifts, generally being a hardass. It was unnecessary, and everyone knew it - Peter often found himself having fridge or bathroom meetings with her to help calm her down. But she kept showing up, kept trying, and after a few weeks she was doing just as well as Peter and the rest of them.

Tony was even better. Peter’d heard through the grapevine that he’d worked at a different location when he was still in school. Why he had to go through training again was lost on Peter - Beck tended to be thorough when it came to these kinds of things, but Tony was arguably more experienced than some of Peter’s coworkers...

Apparently, it’s because he wasn’t one to play nice.

•|||•

It took them quite a while to work together. Peter’d found himself getting the shit end of the schedule, working 7-1s religiously. It was by far his least favorite shift - dealing with the morning and lunch rushes were nothing, if not exhausting. But he pushed through, and finally got a say in what he worked - a very comfortable 5 - close.

Tony seemed to fill the between-shift gap - 2-8 was his jam. He liked working later, but still getting home before dark. Apparently being a newbie meant drawing the short straw sometimes -

And the short straw just so happened to be barring with the twink from a few weeks ago.

He hadn’t been... avoiding him. Tony just... didn’t like the way he worked. Peter was flighty, always moving. It irked him... he was just so much, it made Tony’s head hurt. If he wasn’t so engaging he might actually piss Tony off - but he knew the kid had nothing but good intentions, and that made it bearable.

It didn’t translate to the bar, though.

It seemed nearly impossible for them to work well together. Tony’d been assigned the milk station for the last three hours of his shift - a long stretch, but nothing he hadn’t done before. Peter was on shots almost the entire time. Poor kid.

Tony’s sympathy ran dry when they actually began working. They were almost always on top of each other - Peter crowding his space and trying to do too much. It grated on Tony’s every nerve, made it difficult to function. Peter didn’t seem to notice at all - or if he did, he didn’t care.

It came to a head when Peter went for the fridge. 

It was a pretty well-known rule that the person on shots doesn’t reach for the fridge. Not only was it too far away from their position on machine, it requires them to go behind their bar partner, which is dangerous in a shop this small. Hot liquids, ice, sugar... they can cause spills, burns, falls... 

So of course this dumbass goes for the fridge. Opens the door. Grabs a can of cold brew with his bare hands before turning back around. 

And running into Tony face first. 

This would have been fine if it were literally anything other than a cold brew. This would have been fine if Tony wasn’t holding a fresh drink! But no - the universe lined things up just right, laid out the most well-planned disaster. 

As they made contact, Peter’s hands flew up in shock, dropping the very pressurized can. It exploded as it hit the concrete, spraying nitrogen and foam-y coffee all over them. This caused Tony to let go of the drink in his hand, coating both of their lower halves in hot, sticky milk. 

It was picturesque, the mess they made. 

Tony looked up at Peter in absolute shock. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Why were you in the fridge?!” 

“I was just trying to help! You were busy, I figured I could-” Tony cut him off before he filled the stand with more hot air. Not in the mood for his bullshit excuses. 

“I don’t care how busy you think I am - you ask before doing something outside of your station. Do you understand me?” The look in his eye was one Peter’d never seen before - it probably should have scared him, but frankly, it just made him angrier. 

“Who do you think you are to be giving me orders?” He was huffy, he could feel his cheeks burning red. He was an angry crier, and knew he was struggling to control his face. 

“My sister’s a Mobster. I think I know what I’m doing.” Oh. That explained it - his experience, his proficiency on bar... why he was such a dick. Peter’d never met a Mobster he liked, and if this guy was related to one... shit just made sense. 

•|||•

He spent the remaining few hours of Tony’s shift hiding in the back. They were better off separated, and neither complained. Tony could handle himself up front, and Peter was productive enough. He had chores to do, dishes to finish, the closing list to start... Getting an early start benefitted everyone. 

By the time 8 rolled around, the atmosphere in the stand had relaxed. They’d both had a chance to clean up, the girls on window had helped ease the tension with casual conversation. Bri had been running, and Peter spent plenty of time in the back with her, hushed enough to avoid the ears a few feet away. 

“I don’t see why he gets to walk all over us. You’ve been here longer, and the attitude isn’t necessary.” She was sitting on the edge of the sink, goldfish making their way to her mouth between words. “You know I don’t like him. I don’t see why you keep trying to be nice.”

Peter sighed. He knew she was right. “I just... I don’t want anyone here to feel left out, or like I did at the beginning. Beck can be mean... I want all of you to feel welcome.” It wasn’t a lie, either - he’d made a point to make everyone feel at home, to make this stand a family. Until Tony showed up, he’d been doing a great job. 

“I know buttercup. Just... don’t go bending over backward for someone that won’t even look you in the eye.” With that she hopped down, ready to clock out. 

Tony shuffled past them both, excited to do the same. Maia’d taken over the bar for him, alleviating him just before the four minute window was up. He didn’t even excuse himself, just inserting himself in their personal space without concern. 

Bri shot Peter a look before she left. Talk to him! 

He opted for bravery. He deserved an apology for Tony’s harsh words earlier today, and he was going to get it. 

He checked the cameras before walking back, making sure Maia wasn’t gonna wind up swamped if this took longer than necessary. Tony was collecting his things - he had to do this fast. 

“Hey, listen.” Tony looked up, unamused. “I know we didn’t exactly have a good shift, and yeah I’m partly to blame for that... but Beck doesn’t really vibe with hostility, and the girls...” 

Tony cut him off halfway through. “What, it makes them uncomfortable? They don’t like it when a man takes charge, has a little outburst? Sheesh, y’all really are a mess.” What the fuck?

“Okay, seriously. I tried to be nice. You owe me, and the rest of us, a serious apology for today, or I’m going to Quentin about it. It’s not that hard to say you’re sorry, Tony.” Good job Parker, firm boundaries. 

“I’m sorry? Sorry for what, doing my job? Fuck that, man. I’m out of here.” He opened the door and left, skipping past an oncoming car and heading toward his own. 

Peter followed him. It was stupid, sure - but he needed to assert himself here. This was his stand, his home - and he was damned if he was going to let some... some asshole trample all over his home like this.

He caught up to Tony quickly, stopping him before he could open the driver’s door. “Why are you such an asshole? The girls are obsessed with you, you clearly have a leg up against everyone else in your group. There’s no reason for you to be acting like this, dude. You’ve been here all of what, a month?” 

Tony took a long drag from his cigarette before answering. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now be a good little closer, and run inside. Finish your shift.” He exhaled the smoke into Peter’s face, getting into his car and driving away without another word. 

What a douchebag. 

[dream-critical]

Doxxing anon here. I’m not saying that it’s okay for people who are critical of Dream to be doxxed or harassed, I’m saying that the Internet likes to say that that’s happening while the only actual doxxing I’ve seen has been towards Dream and his fans. Yes, if Dream responds to someone, they’ll get clowned on for a day or two, I’ve seen that happen, but with the most recent controversy and a past one the person he replied to that was “being doxxed” revealed that they were either lying or that nothing actually happened. I know you think that the wider internet doesn’t condemn Dream enough, but every video discussing his controversies, videos with 100,000 to millions of views, the comment sections are all about how bad Dream and his Stans are. A lot of Dream Stans, even those who are critical of him, seem to be so defensive because of how extreme the hate and misinformation gets compared to what Dream actually did. I do agree he should stop replying to smaller accounts that hate on him, even if it’s something that other famous people do, because it eventually comes back on him for doing it. Genuine criticism about racism or edits or slurs he’s handled with measures responses, often privately/directly and those people weren’t mass harassed.

Does dream get a lot of hate from outside the fandom/the internet in general? Absolutely!!!!! But the reason I feel like he isn't critisized enough is bc most of the hate he gets from the outside is complete bullshit. They don't know what his content is like they don't watch any of it, they're not part of the community.

So, all the things they say are either completely made up, taken out of context or things that did he did genuinely apologize for even if he fucked up the whole situation (like the speedrun scandal). Half of those people don't even care about the shit he's done, they just think Minecraft is cringe and want to be able to shame dsmp stans for enjoying Minecraft roleplay.

None of that critisism is genuine, the hate is played up. It doesnt come from a genuine place and also gives him the excuse of "bad actors are trying to make me look bad".

Dsmp antis do not make sense and I don't like them at all however even if nothing fucking happened it doesnt make the attention dream put on smaller accounts ok. Which is like the whole fucking argument. Literally like this wholeee conversation we've been having would not have been a thing if he just wouldn't put a target on smaller accounts.

It doesn't fucking matter whether or not people take him up on the thing and actually attack people, he's basically just putting a "kick me" sign on the back of someone he had an argument with knowing he has a big and loyal fan base that could choose to kick them any second now.

He needs to grow the fuck up and stop doing that. He is a grown ass man. A fucking adult. He's done this multiple times. He knows the consequences. He just fucking keeps ignoring them.

I feel like this whole conversation got derailed but like the essence of it is just that he needs to stop doing whatever the fuck he is doing and change and since you say you agree with that idk how this convo seems to keep going

[duhragonball]

Disinterpretation

I finally finished the Sarah Z video about “pro vs. anti”.   It’s pretty long, and I ended up watching it in chunks over several days, but I think it’s worth watching, especially if you’re sort of partially connected to online fandom, but not enough to be aware of all the lingo. 

As I expected, the whole thing was vague and confusing because the people involved in the conflict made it vague and confusing.   In theory, the full terms would be “pro-shipping” and “anti-shipping”, but it seems like it’s more about particular kinds of ships that could be considered controversial.  But that’s a slippery slope, and apparently the whole conflict mutated into both sides deciding that every hypothetical relationship between fictional characters is either equally valid or equally dangerous.  

Long story short, it’s just purity culture, which was what everyone on Tumblr was calling it around 2012.  But now, if you’re a sane person who genuinely asks: “Who gives a fuck about Voltron?”, these people will jump your ass and accuse you of being on the side of their enemies.  “Children have died over the importance of Lotor/Hagger!   Your callous indifference proves that you yourself must have murdered children!” 

I think what Sarah Z really hit upon in this video was that media consumption has become so ingrained in our culture that people feel like it has to go hand-in-hand with our morality.   That is, it’s not enough for me to watch Star Trek, I have to justify Star Trek as evidence that I’m a good person.  Maybe this is where the expression “guilty pleasure” comes from.   Conversely, it’s not enough for me to not watch Dr. Who, I have to somehow convince everyone that Dr. Who was invented by the devil.

I’m pretty sure the Reylo ship has a lot to do with this, since it’s kind of understood to be a dark, problematic concept, and fans either embrace its flaws or recoil in horror because of them.   Star Wars itself is a dumb story about space wizards, so people try to give the debate more weight by linking it to freedom of self expression and/or enabling real world harm.   Suddenly it’s not enough to just think two actors would look cute making out instead of fighting.   Now it’s this battlefield for the soul of civilization or something.

I grew up in the 80′s, when “concerned parents” and grifters would accuse the Smurfs and metal bands of promoting satanism and witchcraft.   I used to hear stories of teens going out into the woods in the middle of the night to do occult stuff, and all I could ever think about was: “Why would anyone bother wandering out in the woods in the middle of the night?”  Which is why “concerned parents” turned their attention to things that were closer to home, like Saturday morning cartoons.   It had nothing to do with the content; it was just about finding a safe, accessible target for their hysteria.   Some people want to go on a crusade without leaving the house, so they pick a fight with Papa Smurf instead of confronting the real evils in the world.  Even as a kid, I knew this was a con, because I’d watched the show for myself and knew it was too saccharine to be threat to anyone.

The pro/anti folks have tried to disguise this with a lot of terminology.   I wondered why they seemed to reluctant to use the full terms “pro-shipper” and “anti-shipper”, and it’s probably a couple of things.   First, the word “shipper” is basically an admission that this is pointless bullshit that doesn’t matter, and they’d like to avoid that connotation.   Second, they seem to have decided that this goes beyond shipping itself, into practically anything else they want it to involve.  It’s all part of the con, which is to make you believe that it’s “us vs. them”, and you can be part of “us” by curating specific attitudes about Steven Universe.

Seriously, “about Steven Universe” is such an incredible punchline.  You can make anything funnier by adding those three words to the end of a sentence.   “Do not interact if you blog about Steven Universe.”   “Hey, what’s up, YouTube, this is SSJ3RyokoLover69, and this is going to be kind of a serious video about Steven Universe.”   “Mrs. Johnson, the results of your biopsy are in, and I have some bad news about Steven Universe.”   It’s a fucking kids show.   “Oh no, all the characters look like the characters in all the other kids shows!”   Yeah, that’s because it’s a kids show.   Marvin looks like Garfield, this isn’t new.

The common denominator here seems to be that both sides try to wrap themselves in the flag of vulnerable groups: impressionable minors, trauma survivors, harassment victims, etc.   The “pros” want to protect those people so that they can feel free to explore weird subject matter on their own terms, and the “antis” want to protect the same people from being exposed to weird subject matter that they might not want to see.   It’s all about establishing a moral high ground.   Back in the day, it was called “sanctimony”. 

But people get roped into this, because at their core, people want approval, and this stupid conflict offers them a sense of community.  As long as you support the cause, whatever it may be, you’ll have this online friend network that appears to support anything you do.   But if you deviate from their norm, you’ll be cast out.    Does this sound familiar?

To use a more familiar example, I still sometimes find people clamoring about Gochi vs. Vegebul.   I’ve never understood this, because both ships were canon, and I never saw much direct evidence of a war between them, but people would still talk about how crazy the Vegebul shippers were, and how crazy the Gochi shippers were, and it was like some huge thing going on just over the hills.   It’s the same idea, since the idea that you could like both or neither never seems to occur to anyone involved.   I never gave a shit, because I used to see the same dumb agendas in the Harry Potter fandom.

Okay, so let me take you back.  It’s 2005 through 2011, and I’m hateblogging all seven Harry Potter novels, because fuck you, that’s why.  The funny thing I encountered was that occasionally fans seemed to want to pretend like my bashing of certain characters was proving them right somehow.    They were like “See?  He hates Ron Weasley too!  That proves that Seamus Finnegan is the coolest guy ever.”   The Slytherin stans would do this all the time, because I would constantly take the piss out of the Gryffindor characters for being self-important dopes.   I think they just liked hearing it from an outside perspective.   But I had to keep reminding them all that I hated all of them.   Every character from Harry Potter sucks ass. Voldemort was my favorite, but only because he was the one guy who wanted to kill all of the others.   But he sucks too because he failed. 

And the shippers were the same way.   I’d say something shitty about Ron, because Ron sucks, and some smartass Joss Whedon fan would be like “Yes!  Boost the signal!  That is why Harry/Hermione is the best ship!”  And I’d be like “No, Harry and Hermione suck at least as bad as Ron does.  They’re all terrible and I hate them.”   I really do think there was some sort of Stockholm Syndrome going on with Harry Potter books, where everyone secretly knows they suck, but the fans sort of latch on to one or two characters and go like “Well, he’s not as shitty as the rest.”   Like finding spaghetti in the trash and picking out the meatball with the least amount of lint on it.   Then you’d go and start a flamewar with some other starving person over whether your meatball is shittier than theirs.  This is what people mean when they say to read another book. 

Anyway, the big thing I picked up from Sarah Z’s video is “disinterpretation”, a term coined by MSNBC columnis Zeeshan Aleem.   The Twitter thread is worth a read, but the short version is that he once remarked that a Julia Louis-Dreyfus routine wasn’t very good, and someone got mad at him for insinuating that women are incapable of being funny.    They just took his dissatisfaction with one performance by one comedian as being a universal condemnation of women comedians in general.  And this sort of thing is all over the internet.   Everyone sees what they want to see and then they take it as permission to overreact.  

I ran into this myself a while back, because someone saw who I interacted with on Twitter and decided that they’re all bad guys and if I have any interaction with them, then that makes me a bad guy too.   At the time I tried to play it cool, but the more I think about it, the more it ticks me off.   And over the course of that conversation, it was said that I don’t talk about myself much, and that’s kind of funny, because all I ever do on social media is write long-ass blog posts like this one.  I don’t expect anyone to memorize them, or even read them all the way through, but when I write all this stuff and someone goes out of their way to say they don’t know anything about me, the message is that they just didn’t pay attention to what I was saying, and they didn’t bother to try.

So I’m a little jaded from that, because I got called out for a bunch of stuff I didn’t even do or say, and apparently that’s just a thing that happens.   People will reject you for completely arbitrary reasons, not because of anything you actually said or did, and you’re left thinking you made some terrible mistake.   Except, no, I’ve seen it happen to other people, people a lore more conscientious than I am, and if they can’t satisfy the bullshit purity standards, then I never stood a chance.   If the game is rigged so I can’t win, then I’m not going to play.  

And it’s that same condition that probably draws people into these online holy wars, because if you declare yourself for the pro or anti side, at least then you’ll have a posse backing you up.   Only they don’t support you, they support your willingness to support them.    Once your commitment to their agenda wavers, even in the slightest, they will turn against you.   

Sarah Z suggests that both sides of the war drop the pro and anti terms, since they lost all meaning long ago.   But that just invites a new set of useless terms to perpetuate the same cycle.   Her more useful advice is for fandom people to broaden their horizons.   She got a lot of flak for tweeting “Go outside” once, but the ironic thing is that it’s sound advice.   I had lunch with my mom yesterday and it was just nice getting away from things for a while.   People need to do that more often, and unfortunately it feels like it’s harder to do than ever before.

But “go outside” isn’t just a literal thing.   It can mean going beyond your usual haunts, reading the same books, watching the same shows, rehashing the same conversations.   I think the reason this stuff always revolves around “shipping” is because there seems to be this deep-seated compulsion to pair fictional characters off like this, and for a lot of folks it’s the only way they can consume a story, so they do.   And they do it lot, and there’s a lot of them, and they do it the same way every time, and lo and behold the same old conflicts start up.   So maybe “go outside” should mean “go outside of that cycle once in a while.”   Just a thought. 

[jwartblog]

Notes comp...

My brain had suddenly not thought the same way it did, oxygen isn’t getting to it the way it had, blood doesn’t run through it the way it had, it feels like, to a degree, an implosion, not unlike the shift that happens with tectonic plates at the earth’s surface. This means now I can hear my vertebrae at the base of my skull and beneath, the skull cracks at the fissures as if a point of gravity like a warp  is reshaping it. My decision making now is questionable, not criminally questionable, but the decisions I make veer off into peculiar themes, for instance, the whimsy of advertisements. The reactions to them are strong, which may be heightened by a coinciding isolation, all of which could be explained away as neuroses, as so much can be, but the integrity of the diagnosis that that could be is greatly compromised  by  intangibles. I surmise that this has intended to be, for one, a narcissists’ program, in which the language is designed to close off the possibility of social and cognitive maturation. It, instead, endlessly punishes reflection, reason, positive thinking to include any emotional flourishes of joy, exuberance, self-acceptance, an inclination towards the trajectory of all healthy development…It has, I believe destroyed–an embarrassingly easy remedy for all of this notwithstanding–the reward system, an internal resonance for clear thought and careful consideration–qualitative thinking. I can’t wrestle with concepts in the same way I have before. There was a more careful consideration that’s not there anymore, which means the work that I do could suffer for it. The brain is an array of sorts or at least behaves that way, a receiver of input, often vastly ego-centric, easily, near-instantly at the mercy of impulse, which has never quite been that way in adulthood, the way it is now. The formulation of words, increasingly what I would like to articulate comes from an alien place, not that what’s alien has the facility to manage words and construct documents the way I do, but it isn’t concerned with the same things I’m concerned with. What this means is the concern I have for, for example, certain social or creative issues is nearly bankrupt, which means the history of careful, qualitative reasoning and feeling towards those subjects seems gone. This means that that has to be cultivated again, because it necessarily has to be, but it also means a new apprehensiveness towards the retention of new information. Again, a weakening of the faculties, a constructed impairment. This brain, now, acts not unlike a computer server, as if somehow, the neurons were network nodes (not nodes of Ranvier), and all of the sensory duties of the imagining brain were outsourced to a remote terminal. This means, for example, a thought is met with, incorrectly, insufficiently, a thought meant to be thought, perhaps–because functional-integrity is compromised–genuine, is distorted or otherwise presented as if controlled by a foreign catalyst, a facility with thought, with concepts, i.e. design, creative flourishes are intercepted physically, cranially, as much as that can resonate physically, and it’s changed into something that I believe corresponds to what the intruder believes is how a person thinks or means to think. This means that a premium, ironic, considering the possibility that this is of a technological source, is placed on control, not at all on the preservation of thought, or the possibility for general thinking, let alone advanced thought. Whenever an attempt is made to achieve a state of lucidity about the current circumstances, a punishment ensues in the form of blackmail, again social mutilation (anti-social behavior) or some other accusation of criminality or gross immorality. This may be the longest instance of sexual harassment I know in recorded history, as my penis is critiqued multiple times an hour, from flaccid to erect state. It abhors erection, like it’s alien or criminal. All of it is finessed to some degree by an ambiguity, in this case humor amongst other things, the use of interpersonal acrobatics, the continuous promise of a later reward. For instance, one of the things that happens, and this plays off of an already-intrusive guerilla marketing, data-mine marketing (likely a cover for pure harassment), is the establishment of a visual language that always to some degree points to something being advertised, a product you might potentially buy, which on its face is innocuous. But upon closer inspection, it does seem to gain accuracy with each attempt at subverting the feeling of even casual autonomy, any sense of self that comes from personal decision making. What this means is that over time a kind of probabilistic thinking ensues as a reaction to constant probability based harassment(e.g. Probabilistic Psycho-Linguistic Verisimilitude and Infinitesimal Approximations of Neuro-Physiological Reception in Experience Perception. Memory-Thought modulation analysis in the conversion of external stimuli into creative thought and output, partly through continuous tracking of parallel experiential or verisimilarly stimulated brains of a large population sample, and reward system increasingly tailored to positive correlative confirmation signs. Behavioral analysis through the continuous introduction of external and internal stimuli and continuous tracking of subsequent associated epistemological formulations especially in regards to the subsequent introduction of symbolically-associated stimuli, stimuli congruent with particular, personal, accurate or inaccurate epistemological assumptions.). This has the potential to render the target overtly spatially and socially strategic…which can cause irrevocable overt symbolic-interactionism brought on by among other things, helplessness: the methods of harassment are slight and mimic the symptoms of still socially-maligned mental illnesses such as schizophrenia. If you can imagine, an artist, especially one adept at symbols, abstract representation, is made to feel that he or she is responding to what vaguely seems like a phallic or feminine image, and he is, for example, then made to know that he or she is somehow influenced by that prompt to purchase which confirms his or her latent homosexuality, over time this admonishment, necessarily slight, acts as a kind of whip, to which an artist necessarily would respond to with a re-habitual sort of inclination towards the object he wishes to avoid, however ambivalent he might be. Over time the whip makes the artist, like Pavlov’s oft mentioned canines, salivate at the ‘sound of a bell,’ i.e. whip. This kind of harassment I think maybe tends to coincide with what would be a delicate time for an artist, or anybody, especially an inwardly focused artist or person, transgression bound, piqued by curious psychological phenomena, bouts of clairvoyance, synchronistic peculiarities, a lot to navigate through without the addition of systematic, injurious harassment. If for instance it can be said that a person who constructs by some act of fate, his own clairvoyance, a streak of running into exactly what’s foreshadowed as a relational need or otherwise a break from an ideal state, is monitored by someone from an objective point of view who has knowledge of human behavior and the journey of humans, artists, he could potentially be subject to this knowledge, general knowledge, the artists’ knowledge, what the monitor knows the artist knows, what he knows many don’t know about these phenomena, the limits of their efforts to remedy the issue, to include among other things what would be professionally or socially unhygienic to pursue, and particular knowledge of marketing or other forms of harassment to cause irrevocable psychological damage. It keeps a record like a fingerprint for every instant of short and long term audio memory, neuro-instantaneous-configuration, and also manipulation at the cochlear nerves, perhaps induced neuron degradation aided by an overly nitrogen-rich diet that allows sounds to be affected. Either neuron or nerve frequencies are altered to match incoming frequencies, pressure disturbances that create sound. That means that as fast as the speed of sound, an incoming signal is intercepted before a conscious sensation of hearing can be registered. Also communication from preparatory (internal) speech center can be altered to fit incoming signal, or to conform incoming signal to preparatory (internal) speech (i.e. Attempts to further resolve name to voice, signal to name, voice/signal to image...performs as if it may not have specific local knowledge of content, but effects of it, how a datum associates with another datum (e.g. what regional voice and statement placates, even if the value of a statement or effect is unknown--how that's measured, how it's configured, what it means against other data, for instance, if a communal-neuro-topographical map worked with all measurable phenomena associated with brain activity), a relational database, e.g. what might correlate neuro-physiologically to what’s known through data-mining (what an image might sound like, what an algorithm for what an image is like, what a person thinks an image correlates to, would attempt to resolve if it had to ascertain the locus of significance in service of connecting data-processing-of-ephemera to verisimilitude in external thought processing, increasingly how an algorithm could think for you, could be used to subvert reasoned conclusions, to make empirical inquiry or research, entertainment, compromise trusted academic sources for instance by playing to statistically known impulses instead of supplying objective findings, papers, objective search results.) Points to what I had written earlier though about conquest through earnest action and exploitation of assumed unknowns. Audio converted in real-time to legible probable English (what the word most certainly will be at the start of pronunciation) audio interpretation is augmented by visual symbol confirmation, i. e. when audio fails, or when audio may certainly fail to be adequately echoed. Appears to analyze cord vibration state, speech initiation, and compares that against a database and predicts usage in tandem with image analysis, which could be gathered from a databank of images (Bing "like" image search) and image/word-concept association. The process of instantaneous ranking, a number assigned to every possible word outcome given an initial vocal cord vibration state, or speech initiation state, say 200 words starting with 'Bal...' (Ball, balcony, ballerina, balances, etc.). The words are then ranked based on probability which can begathered from historical usage and altered by the microsecond, nanosecond, etc., as the vibration, speech initiation, word formulation further produces a word outcome, until the dwindles to one word, or the listener is trained to hear one word out of possible multiple words, the most probable word given priority amplification. This code can be improved ad infinitum, based on linguistic, probabilistic, psychological, and environmental factors.  A listener, possibly an operator on duty somewhere might correct machine code (?) as he notices errors in operation). Sound retrieved from temporary or long term audio memory, as well as the preparatory audio center is manipulated (enhanced or otherwise, modulated, withheld or diminished to produce effect.). Semantics, kinesiology and ephemera analysis, computational linguistics, linguistics itself, sonar, lip reading, etc. coupled with near-real-time incoming quantitative and qualitative data stream can all be used to induce the feeling of a second presence, a second set of eyes with you, and this is--if we were to assume that the data stream is coming from a witting or unwitting transmitter; perhaps an surreptitious or agreed upon installation of a transceiver on the person of the subject--without including the possibility for manipulation of the central nervous system, the frequency that governs or instructs, for instance, heart palpations, the perception of touch. A person could be outright impaired in various ways directly, or indirectly by, for example, stress, what are known as pain-points, if a cue were abusive, as in Pavlov's experiments with dogs, if a known involuntary, or voluntary made near-involuntary by conditioning were triggered to induce, for instance, a fetal-position defensive reaction. Where perception-valleys are present, neuro-experiential displacement is allowed to flourish, that means that with the aid of 'in,' a provincial cue, regionalism in terms of perceptual-familiarity, a person could be lulled into one form of intelligence, say the idea that a person is highly efficient at guessing various truths about your condition based on incoming data, but when the observers' analytical peak reaches a crescendo, possibly employing the infinitesimal, in terms of what can be gleaned, and as this contrasts knowledge of, a comfort level with previous analysis-attempts, a person could incorrectly conclude the 'real' presence of another entity. Audio-psychology, or other physio-neuro sensations can be used to create stories, especially if the belief-quotient of the participant/study/victom is high. Most people are not self-critical down to their neuro makeup, the particular universe of their mind and brain. Perception valleys, but for now, in as much as what's known about what it could know shows change modulated by location and some activity, for instance, a steady increase in rate of accuracy, or due to the fallibility of the senses generally but a known unreliability made increasingly more unreliable by sense-degradation, perception itself of this rate of change has to be called into question, as well as a perception valley, not only instances of impressions of what's known, but also for rates of change. While it can certainly be gleaned that some things are known (that had been, for instance, known to be unknown, in some cases unknowable particularly) and gleaned that some things are being increasingly known, there's still what's already known which is (x, unknown in quantity, quality, thus 0 to infinite, bad to extensive), and what's is increasingly being known that can't be known, that's changing at a rate that's congruent with known rates of change or not. Simultaneously, with that system there's a presentation of it, altruistically perhaps seeks partly, which may itself be a function of an outcome (to disinform, socially engineer some degree of.(cont.)..some degree of ambivalence, a familiarity with a signal presence to undercut the severity of what's being performed, to provide the illusion of a bevy of expected mercies, plethora of cognitive biases such as religious assurance by way of affiliation, assurance based on regionalism, etc. Mentalist tricks, and tricks such as game participation, match-maker, religion-based such as relieving you of talents buried, muscles not adequately used, which can lead to further illogical trains of thought.) to steer thought away from accurately assessing the scenario in general, the general nature of the problem, the specific nature of aspects of the physical problem, to attain a specific and/or general end through whatever can be suggested, including, as stated before, involuntary or near-involuntary responses to audible stimuli, which can provide new data. Other intrusive-(faux) inner-directed sensory cues can function in the same capacity. What's problematic, obvious, but needs to be made plain is that if more is known than prepared for or conceived, than more can be known based on responses to what's assumed to be known, for instance if internal functions of a subject are known, but the subject doesn't know that this is known, he will perform defense maneuvers internally, assuming that he is protecting something unknown. The information gathered from what’s newly known, now that along with internal functions known, the subject has unknowably provided, internal defense maneuvers, can be used to subdue another similar party or subject, or disarm the subject unawares, as they say, so that the subject's assumptions make him incapable of conceiving of a collapse externally orchestrated, thus attempting to solve an internal problem assuming an internal origin, not to mention, the peculiar conundrum that would arise if the subject knew what was known. Every response provides data, so nothing can be done, tactically, that wouldn't make worse the circumstances. If, what's known and had been known, for instance, is thought itself, an ability that would naturally need to be kept under-wraps, and along with thoughts known, thought processes, tendencies, probability, etc., now even a common sense response (silence, repose, a stalemate) is data, itself a maneuver. The continuum to some degree as much as feasible is the most appr. response. In terms of 'maneuvering' around this problem, what seems to me the most pragmatic approach is to, at the least, facilitate open communication (in qualitative proportions) relative to, or as a function of a rate of degradation of value certainties such as primarily the lived life, as much as valued the vital organs, the sustainment of societal functions. I.e. What can't be openly stated that needs to be has to be increasingly openly stated in measures where the positive difference (what's preserved) between what's stated and what's prevented by openly stating is optimal. In what can possibly take place, voluntary or involuntary reaction to perception valley nadirs (closest to truth, gravity), actual knowns could make more real unknowns, exacerbate the perception of a  truth, accuracy in reflected/echoed truth, i.e. a known thought known could make more real the perception of a thought known, causing a relinquishing of a hold, a defense due to that assumption, that something is definitely known, or a certain capability of knowing is certainly known. Or in not knowing a thought is known, a knowing center is known, a person could activate defenses that become newly known data, available to disarm. The knowing that's synthetic, that means to make real a data-mined synopsis of a history and now, as much as real-time reporting and application can be that, has approximated the sensation of knowing, as I've said before, so the physiological indication of what it means to have thought, or applying a thought, especially to some external prompt--itself made to seem internally orchestrated, yet an outside prompt, the idea that some other entity, at least the way I would dream of it, is supplying a question that requires an answer, an answer I'm willing to readily give: the neuro-physiological sensation that I am, in a semi-conscious state, the recipient of a question asked of me by someone not me, the idea that it has to be answered, and that the options available, the memory or knowledge bank known is what's actually there, and all that's there, the idea and correlating sensation that that answer is the right one, that I have thought that thought, the desire to interact, that the voice supplied is of the image it's associated with, and that the subject would communicate in this way as a matter of fact, the rendering of the image to, beyond the fact of it's value--how well it's rendered, which is desired to fall into a valley of non-consideration, a given too well constructed to be fully-appreciated in a way that allows for effect-reception  to subside and reasonableness to return tide and sufficiently critique--supply an increasing nudge towards what would be still not be a too unreasonable delusion of grandeur--of the grandiosity in each behavior of mine, as it's perceived, or some major failing of sense, that the elements of unconsciousness and visualization that would have to exist to make that point clear are what's actually there, and that that point made is one most salient, like a vacuum, that renders null excess-not-instantaneously-anti-thesis to what it means to convey, to make self-evidently true, that this is more than enough for completion--the sense of it that can guide, though, as I've written many years ago, truth and completion are separate things; one seeks conclusion when truth is tedious, and conclusiveness seeks truth when it's methodology and intentions are dubious, are questionable, to dress expedience, the rhythm of being undeniably-seemingly right or smart-sounding. But writing this, too, in a lucid wakeful state is subject to question, as I've left a state verifiably not my subconscious, the striving moment to moment is compromised as well, the certainty of whether or not impetus is genuine, has been eroded, outside of what's objectively, perhaps statistically sound in the findings of a most-reliable scientifically verified and peer reviewed analysis, and there's evidence that impulse itself, moment to moment, is directed by inauthentic catalysts--intentionally and directly orchestrated by some external source. What it could mean to allude to is simulacrum, but that's a psychosis term publicly. It's connected to weaving varying stories together that have 'no rights whatsoever' to be linked! Speed is not truth, nor is public consensus, nor is the spectre of utter demoralization and humiliation. In these conditions it's certainly difficult to objectively and somehow artfully probe into the idea of creation that seeks creation, or always in preparation of some future ideal. This is me inundated in another consciousness. The reasoning is now foreign, too. It has been that way for some time, but there's less of an obvious differentiation between the way I would feel about certain topics, even in sleep state that's barely leaving unconsciousness. The only way to maintain a sense of objectivity now is largely because of the nature of the thoughts themselves. Partly the game that's played here is rewarding the subject, in this case, me, with a right to healthy sleep, external peace through a decent lack of debilitating continuous sexual harassment, emotional abuse, discreet sexual and psychological assault, if I don't fight against diminishing qualitative thinking, which is preserving my identity. The continuous narcissistic drone that induces unhealthily defensive immediately rectifying mindset (of course at the expense of longterm planning and almost all deep, carefully considered thought). For instance, it continues as if there's some known secret violent, or sexually deviant behavior performed that has to come to light, of course through this style of torture. What it actually seems to be more and more is a conditional crime pre-punishment, a future-looking consequence based on inductive reasoning--ideally the crime, that, when this discreet torment has been completed, will, by its nature, have proven all of the tortuous actions taken upon me, just. But I believe this is based on a hunch that's arisen from the belief in congruence of data from a particular surveillance, even more daunting if that surveillance was coupled with conditioning by persons who would seek this outcome, the justification for that kind of surveillance and discreet torment then. This information, however,  doesn't prove the truth of any one act, only the perceived likelihood, perhaps in the court of public opinion, which isn't sufficient. The persuasion that's continuously transmitted is, in a semi-conscious state, even made to seem to be me at the gut of consciousness--i.e. what it would feel like, neuro-physiologically to think and know it's me thinking--slyly, disarmingly persuading someone else to follow a line of thought that's anti-thesis to what I'd most like to suggest, but it may actually fit in more with what would be congruent with the evidence that supports the truth of an instance of transgression, which is what's sought after. At this point, it's really only the fact that I don't think those things, that I don't consider that content and often thus(thereby) genuinely don't like it, that confirms for me, the foreignness of it. It does tend to resemble what's described by Foucalt in Madness and Civilization when he says that power itself takes this route regardless of the people who associate themselves with it, so that all persons in those positions that act as factors in this system behave as needed to support an outcome. In that book he describes three tactics the asylum-keepers use to sedate the subject, longterm*: silencing through ex-communication, through various means, ending regular social interaction; playing to, however belittling it is and beknownst it is to the subject, their idea of grandiosity, their belief of their superiority or deep importance, the delusion that they're a high-ranking official or royalty or a celebrity, whether or not they actually really feel that way, even if they only play along to someone else's suggestion; and the third escapes me, but it believe it has something to do with thwarting immediate goals. Fear is another tactic, or some kinds of trauma tantamount to what traumatic occurrence has caused an initial inhibition ( as flawed as that sounds), and the use of family-ties to persuade, to bring the subject to his right-mind, the definition of which is malleable as necessary like-wise, like what I had written earlier, to justify the tactics used, often what's sought is an ideal external to who the person actually is, an unchanged personality that's often only what it has to be to put loved-one's  minds at ease...for instance a person could finish school and be considered insane because, for example, school is ‘unnatural’ for his ilk (by way of his new knowledge he's writes or speaks like he aims to escape himself, or belittle rather than enlighten--usually the case when there's class-transcendence, when the actual numbers for progress are lost on an insular community, the national goal of education, or how education actually relates to affluence or career success, or gives a country it's competitive edge--generally preferred-- regardless of provincial opinions about individual cases), so a community could be persuaded, by the nature of their conditioning, to right the wrong of his enlightenment, to prevent continual learning, to, as overtly illegal and unethical as it is, seal off any chance for further naturally-resulting intellectual development. The problem in 2020 is that the knowledge of these conditions and disorders are known and that increasingly that knowledge is used to mislead the unwitting or support defamation or serve as peripheral intangibles used to wrong someone, i.e. it's weaponized. So street level skullduggery graduates and with the science of thought, there is increasing certainty, less error, so that the chance for something like this, an objective document, is less and less reliable. This might not be a reliable document. There could be for instance a gradual move towards planned happenstance, that secures planned outcomes. I had mentioned the systematic prevention of enlightenment or discreet impairment of the brain as it might be used for, for instance, discrete maths, or quantum mechanics, so lineage, documented familial inclination towards higher-learning, may more and more be seen as insurance against this. Gradually I'm made to become more and more comfortable with a second presence in mind, who, before any guarantee of compensation or noticeable benefit implores me to 'get out' or 'go up' or do a myriad of things as if I can, at will, make those outcomes happen, or as if the fact of my being or maturation isn't in itself, right, or self-evidently wrong. What it feels like, as I've stated before is rape, a marathon of rape-marathons, that itself forcibly becomes a new norm, and I'm responsible for my own pain, guilty for being violated, guilty for being hurt or protesting the rape-marathon in any way at any given time, especially if that protest gives some semblance of respite. The idea is to simply have it stop: I would like it to stop, I have never known this to exist, It was never a reality to me, I don't want it, I have nothing to prove. I only have to become more intimate with what I'm most interested in, and this something I can do without any help. The goal is the extensive depletion of the brain, mind, and eventually everything else. The prize, I believe, is what would strike a person who might encounter me, what would constitute a strength, and so one might like to see me or someone, for example, lose their ability to think in the way they are accustomed to thinking, especially if it's unique or adequate, or proven. Reasons can be as malleable as they have to be, to be sure I don't pontificate or don't mull over problems in the same way. There's an urgency in disrupting creation or thought production that reminds me of poverty-stricken children battling for crumbs or pieces of food, a certain scarcity-mindedness, or zero-sum, end-game, stubbornness. The chief goal here would be sabotage for highly-personal ego-driven reasons, not reasonableness. I'm made to believe that I should make some arbitrary authority my authority where there is none, and one is certainly not wanted or needed. There are large amounts of external stimuli present around me under the guise of helping me think. What this means is a demeaning attempt to forcibly outsource responsibility, which I believe is to make me comfortable with encroachment, especially to reveal private information, even information it is illegal for me to knowingly reveal, illegal for someone to forcibly extract from me, or frame me for relinquishing. Even as thoughts or thinking can be approximated, specific thoughts are more and more echoed in media, but not as general foresight or the synchronicity-high that follows a break from the ideal, a relational dependency, what state of being and thinking would have to take place to make sufficient meaning, or the actual events as genuinely foreseen meaningful encounters, but something else, almost as if I can't think unless each thought is good enough( this bypasses the feat of controlling each thought to even close to that extent to begin with), which they can never be if they're subjectively assessed, and goodness itself has to be questioned here if thoughts are more and more produced (which they are) by some far less adequate (for what I do) external transmitter, as preposterous as this sounds, the fact that I would ever have to consider a second presence in mind as a police for any reason. *The third here was constant references to the past--the asylum keeper would find a way to have the subject ensnared in his own past, which they could always refer to, if they've been keeping good notes, and the subject would ideally keep searching for some answer not readily given--partly due to an unkempt or unreliable memory in tandem with continual subliminal and overt cues to stop actively thinking--but instigated by past psychologically unresolved occurrences that are constantly urgently alluded to, one by one, until a certainty is achieved that further sedates the subject. Non-empowering recollection. More and more, in the morning and at other times, like in Iowa, in the morning, a foreign personality takes over, in the same way a foreign laugh did then,  a foreign consciousness, for instance what would be the way I would seem to go in a more generically paternalistic manner (and also paternalism or masculinity as brutishness, manliness as primitiveness), a voice less fluid, a word selection accounts for less nuance, which is even less refined than the initial incapacitation of the basal ganglia, other parts of the brain responsible for high level processing of concepts and a usual work-history-consistent manner of contemplation: what would work for flavors of contemplation, art-thinking for art-writing. More and more the spine is the outermost protruding part of skeleton behind me, the skull is continually pushed forward, the trapezoids are tightened and forced high along with my shoulders (to sit at the top of my torso not at the sides) and ass is coached to increasingly remain tucked under, the back is therefore elongated and bows outward like a bulldog where it approaches the neck(notes from earlier: There’s a constant incoming at a particular numerical rate, a transmission of the kind of stimuli that can’t be easily thwarted. One of the things this results in, or has occurred in this instance alongside it is an ever tightening of the muscles around the trapezius and upper latissimus dorsi, the sides and back of the neck. Quickly, it feels primitive, not in that a person who is muscular there is primitive, but that it feels like the option to deviate from that is increasingly gone. The top half of the skull increasingly sinks into the lower one, the eyes are forced close together than normal–it more and more resembles down syndrome. It feels like it, too. Due a lack of sleep, and again, continuous aggression the eyes are sort of recessed into darkened skin that sits inside the eye sockets. What I have now, what I use to make art is a kind of secondary vision, it’s a secondness  of vision. That sense is merely accessing footage, which I translate by way of recollection of what an ideal visual encounter was like. Again, the skull takes primacy, the eyes are a happenstance of the skull. My teeth are slowly reaching the beginning stages of brittleness, which I’ve seen happen quickly almost unnaturally to people I know.), a layman's cognitive consonance is expected to result from daily nudging to escape yourself, to 'leave your head,' as if leaning forward, an animalistic lean is what would make a person more himself. The overall goal is to completely disrupt bodily coordination. What this means, partly, is a conscious operation of the body to replace what should be thought-work, contemplation for interests and work, and other activities. The faculties are increasingly disrupted. Increasingly, simultaneously aptitude is compromised and replaced, the rate of intellectual growth is slowed, the quality of it increasingly less valuable, originality is directly minimalized as a result, and wherewithal for self-propulsion is increasingly made voluntary. The base-work of easy recollection, long and short term reflection, sign-creation, visualization, is forcibly outsourced, and all of it to mock all thought-processing as a means, itself, the reality of that depletion, to distract from an initial crucial loss of deep-meaningful consideration gained over time, through encounters, close-study, long-term deep careful-contemplation of the best that can be thought, for itself, it's own sake and as a foundation for future application. The brain is continually attacked, continually made to be atrophied object, as stated before, increasingly cadaver-centric. The body carries a head, an near-dead extremity, not a center. I'm made to reach, to partly consider at least as a fleeting thought the idea of my brain, my body and mind being diminished to enhance another life, of course, a life that hasn't worked for that reward and who boastfully will not compensate me for that depletion. The game here, as stated before, is to make a person believe many people are hiding from an anonymous machine that doesn't know who I am, and only plays to a person's ego (therefore a shameful thing to admit to being bothered by), their idea that this machine is referring to them and not some collective. The ego is conflated with thinking itself, it means to make the case that thinking, especially high-level thinking, or the way an educated person normally would think about his world, is only meant to nurture the ego. There's a lull in the machine's operation for continued thought-work and contemplation, but this is only to create the illusion of an order within this terror, and one the subject should subscribe to, an authority, where it would be most troublesome to a power-monger to not have one, where there should be none, a whip for thought where no whip is needed, an eye and narcissistic cloud for each thought, even after a major collapse of the faculties, the urgent establishment of an authority where it would only worsen not improve work. For every thought, there's its counter-thought, but not the specifically tailored counter-thought I'd employ to help me gain and retain healthy objectivity. Another game that's repeated here is the idea of inevitable competition, and a naturally occurring inevitable authority over that for the quality of thought a person possesses, logic with every thought, which is not my goal, and not desirable to me. By it's sheer presence, the authority expects forfeiture of sovereignty, not its own death. All of this is not the same as the carefully-tailored thinking I or any person might develop over time, that I have developed over time,  the specific way of dealing with people I've cultivated over time (both fallible but uniquely fallible), that's particular to me. This is an externally-orchestrated intrusion on internal space, that can easily be made to seem like an internally-originating mental breakdown. There's a narcissistic drone, that of course works against what it means to administrate over which is the worst of egotistic impulses, the most publicly despised by the most people, but this is accompanied by continuous manipulation of bodily sensations, neuro-physiology and even thought production. What this could easily appear to be to some unwitting person watching is a person struggling with undesirable impulses and characteristics, a person who needs professional help. For instance, if an external presence is forcibly coaching a person to think of murder, in tandem with manipulating the brain, mind and body to viscerally feel that impulse at gut level, that external presence, now internally situated, would taunt or shame a person for even thinking along those lines which would be especially difficult to manage for a person who clings to moral standards. This person witting could perform a myriad of exercises to regain equilibrium, perhaps include that in a daily routine, but a person unwitting could be tragically set back by this constant shaming, which could erode at their form, their freedom amid granted societal freedoms, inalienable rights, or slavery amid all of the resources available for assuring freedom. The shaming would exacerbate impulse, which could lead to impulse-fulfillment. It means to diminish all strengths and not as germaine to some lesson or attempt to target someone else, and it means to outsource all thinking, all facility with various functions, all of the faculties, that are healthy and in some cases above-average.  Each day the ability to clearly speak  is more and more compromised. My facility with language is increasingly minimalized. Word selection or word memory as needed to sufficiently convey exactly what pertinent is compromised. The ability to convey nuanced thought is diminished, as an echo of actual loss of nuanced thinking. I get the strange feeling that the voice I'm left with is that of someone who makes bold pronouncements, as if drunk in grandiosity, that I would be given over to, as I've said before, delusions of grandeur, however congruent they might be with my actual experiences--not as a celebrity or a politician. The main point is that whereas before I would simply focus on the concept to be conveyed and language-usage-facility was subordinated as needed, now, more and more, I have to be sure speech is accomplishable, and I have to prepare for unpredictable preparatory-thought-failures in regards to overall poignancy and particularly individual word usage to reduce uncertainty (to minimalize latent egregious misinterpretation), and so where it may seem to be the case that one would gain a noticeable benefit from relinquishing conceptual wherewithal in service of immediately detectable thus resonant linguistic dexterity, that soon gives way to another voice less refined (less directed) and perhaps therefore less resonant, or perhaps additionally to some other less easily detectable benefit, e.g. pure (quality) thought for pure (quality) experience, not that the two are always mutually exclusive (that one couldn't be the other). Part of this erosion, I think, has to do with the idea that reality, real-reality is only gained through eschewing internal order, a private order, especially one that allows for deep healthy careful contemplation, reflection and  foresight--even if only with definite plans and timely responsibilities in mind.  As if dreamscape was a reliable window to some truth, it's treated as if all of its admissible in some invisible court, but what's manipulatable is imagery, like I said before the way a newly wakeful state, a state just before pure consciousness can yield the crest of inhibition, what dreams address mostly abstractly, especially as deep as orchestrated externally based imagery can be planted or seeded by mentalist cues. More and more the deepest unconscious whimsy, what's uncontrolled, is made to bear externally orchestrated fruit, or what can persuade or suggest at the base level of thought, especially in as much as it subverts structural integrity. Even if by only a delay in the body's reaction to the brain's signals, physiological sensations that sometimes accompany dreams, not that that's in anyway whatsoever a punishable offense itself (for instance an erection at the sight of a necrophilia orgy, at bestiality or something worse), can be manipulated to train personal tastes, or supplant the bedrock on which one might stand to declare something from a rightful or righteous as well as a reasonable standpoint. This might not seem like much if it weren’t for the fact that it's accessible, and especially to an unwitting subject, it could seem to be omniscience through authority, which could turn noble but, perhaps albeit reluctantly,  strict adherence to morality, a kind of torture. A person who wanted to fully assume authority over a person could use this to control behavior over time, especially in an environment where morality is a kind of currency, the feeling of it, the feeling of goodness, a person's sense of his own deep piousness, or the way it's perceived by others. This could be disrupted to sway other people or make some point to a subject about the limits of how he can feel about himself, or a point about what a subject ought to feel about himself, given what's 'apparent,' what’s 'obviously' known. Their aim is for me to be aware on their terms, to see my own particular trajectory, the awareness I've cultivated, the style of thinking I've developed, nearly the only way to be that would suffice for seeing me through to this point, as wrong in itself, without justification needed for that final judgement, that certain prosecution. I'm blacklisted. Again, freedom is taken from me at a crucial point in my life, and I can't get those years back. I'm attacked by a transmission that reads thoughts, and certainly does so. This is a weapon of war. It's masked as probability, but that's not what it is. It prevents me from starting a viable business, and it rids me of every worthwhile idea. I can't pray. I'm made to viscerally experience consenting to inferiority, or recognizing a superiority that's made to seem true-in-itself, that's above empirical inquiry. More and more each morning it's difficult to articulate what exactly is taking place as immediate recollection becomes weaker. The sensation of being a host for another presence, another consciousness becomes more and more visceral, as if, for instance, the way I could know, neuro-physiologically, what it means to be myself, to be me knowing, was overtaken each time I slept. This is something I only somewhat consciously detect when I wake up, and it's a realization that's increasingly forgettable, like a temporary bout of Alzheimer’s, as much as memory could be a mood, an aphasia for short term memory. I can't remember exactly what was said, but it involved me remembering a date and conveying that to someone, but now more than any other time, the date recounted, and all of the sensation of knowing was present, as much as a person could think to know something or arrive at a conclusion, work through a problem logically, the sensation of the way the mind functions when it rationalizes. A date was given by me to someone who asked for it, but the date given was different then what I could glean from another channel of communication which was also not generated by me, even with the way I know I present images in a dream, another channel, both foreign, presenting two problems. One problem is the problem of simulacrum, the idea that a problem exists to begin with, that the environment is mine, that there's a problem that's mine to remedy. The second problem is that there's one channel that isn't privy to the other, and is determining perhaps by probability what it must be like to receive a sort of para-communication and communicate back, but failing at the transmission of specific data points. So, there could possibly be another channel of communication that's there subconsciously, the one induced by some outside coach, the subconscious machine code, one I don't consciously know, that's made to respond to this other unbeknownst to it, incoming channel with as much verisimilitude  as possible, the way a person who  has to parity check or verify a secure channel could read into what it has known about the way my neurophysiological behavior would correlate to a transmission. As much as it might seem to be exceptional to communicate in this way, especially for a truth that has to be weaved into a kind of persuasion, even when that means nothing at all, the correlation between the way something is said, the means of saying it and the truthfulness of it, I only get moments of possible relevance, that it's not all gibberish. Mostly, though, it's still persistent verbal assault that's optimized over time combined with a more and more accurate appraisal of my surroundings and physiological states, neurophysiological states, even thoughts, as images that are produced by me, made to be seen as I see the world (so perhaps an interception as a catcher's mitt back there for the way I see, as much as that can be thought or correlate to thought, but more and more it seems that the way this is known is by what could be gathered through large number analysis, the sample that a image-focused search engine would have to have, to...at one instance, say 'this image is like this one, so therefore this image might likely be this one,' especially the way this could work for facial recognition, and, on the other hand, the way words can correlate to imagery, so the often searched images as they correlate to words could coach AI machine code to know an image means this word, which it could stylistically, using a regional voice, say. There's also what correlates to image neuro-physiologically, that near-instantaneous and recordable state that can serve as one datum entry in a library, a relational database for image-text-neurophysiological correlation. This can be married with content recognition by an actual human observer, who by less and less of an imperative needs to coach the machine on what to know, especially for an increasingly large number conforming population, perhaps the erasure of inner-directedness, but certainly the reduction of micro-decisions, or at least the weight that each one of those might hold, the complexity of that with recollection, reminiscing, self-perception, self-awareness, and likewise all of the different types of awareness and sensations, especially in as much as that could disrupt the accuracy of large number assessments in an age where big-data is oil, where data is currency, and as much as that adherence to large number data, perhaps a cousin of the natural human tendency to conform to technology, as much as that reduces the likelihood for genuinely differentiate-able creation, the ability to work in that capacity, idea creation, and safeguard it, becomes increasingly valuable. So what seems to be playful in mind, the wackiness of preventing all of the myriad of ways a person could perceive the world or contemplate it, a steady stream of base-communication, only wide-eyed, exaggerated reactions, for one--that diminish sound outlook, that counters little moment-to-moment realizations, and sparks of self-perception or self-adulation, and past savoring, etc.--is not valuable in the sense of working with concepts, the elements of sensation to create ideas. Yes, as deplorable and disheartening as that sounds, there does exist work to dismantle thinking itself-to-demoralize, which is tragic for most professionals who actually need to contemplate to get work done. There are people with the means to demoralize people in that way--know what a person is thinking, which could mean something if it were a way to say something about the score between the two: the continuous encroachment on thought by the technological world and them, and use that to say the people’s thinking, which might largely make up who they are, is grossly redundant, thus useless--and if demoralization isn’t the goal, inherent illegality of this method notwithstanding, they might not appreciate why and how working through problems unaided, unhampered, with pinging faculties, often yields the raw substance of individual wherewithal (the numbers might point to documented aptitude, verifiable performance as more certain predictors of meaningful thought-work, but there’s evidence of crucial high-level innovation resulting from the later-perfected peculiar-mindedness of once-crude thinkers) which is important because it is infact so often the road enlightenment and inquiry takes, which civilization tends to trail. Considering that much more than what's obvious to me could be known by what's causing this, for at least image recognition, as I've said before, the way a search engine algorithm could link image to words or image to image, an arrangement, the means of detecting image production as it's received by my brain, how it would have to resonate physically, the elemental matter associated with it, and how that would have to correlate to at least what's analogous to an analog-to-digital way of having a non-human instrument interpret with increasing accuracy the actual content there, if we assume what's being felt, followed by what's seen is genuine, and not externally-originating orchestration ( assuming no manipulation based on  raw data configuration, a coordinate assignment of each datum, the way that can be recorded and retrieved and over time correlate to meaning, health states, later behavior, entelechy, etc.). It's possible coordinates could be known within axis, a spatial verisimilitude in the way an thought would be orchestrated by a person, basically how a person would conventionally think, at least. If, for instance, it could know the way sensation, the way the brain reacts correlates to a type of image, e.g. a face, within that category, it could reference a library of images that are categorized based on tendencies in appearance that would better ascertain content, so only as much as facial features lead to more certainty are they categorized, in this case, the certainty of what correlates to thought, the way thought could be known with increasing accuracy. So what takes place is prompt in the form of a playful improv on image production awaits confirmation in the form of 'yes' or 'no,' the behaviors that fall under those categories, to know what seemingly ambivalent behavior is ultimately revealing, the way Charles Pierce (W. James?) posits there is no lie. Once the confirmation is received it becomes a brick stacked in service of certainty, the later improvs are more accurate, executed with confidence, for instance an animated image after once thought as static when probability is above perhaps 95%. It could be that in some cases only temporal disposition is known as it's associated with image after an image is thought, a one-off image produced and then externally manipulated, the following thoughts as much as disposition points to this, are perceived to be likely to follow the same pattern, so another face could be perceived by the machine, but in not knowing who the face is immediately or having in that following instance the capability to 'recognize' the type of face, it prioritizes a moment of possible continued follow-on manipulation with an animation like before, one that correlates to an old man, as opposed to say a cheerleader. There are supposedly recorded occurrences of ESP, phenomena, or technology that transfer another person's mind into another person, that would allow for a kind of symbiosis that could carry out this flavor of mischief. In the quanta-age, the one that follows this one, the data-age, it might be said that nothing could be known to be truly debunkable without knowing that, the entirety of circumstances, even though we know in theory one realm, the subatomic doesn't significantly disturb the other, 'reality' as such. If this is all quanta-sized, all physical matter as quantity, then it's possible that all that could be known, quantified, would adhere to principles of probability in as much as an understanding of the movement of  gas, vapors, could be optimized, I mean, the way that led to this, to what would seem to be todays understanding of the way subatomic particles work. This could know in exponentially large magnitudes, all of the varieties of living, all of the scenarios a person might encounter that would re-introduce agency, only eluded by infinity, which I've stated before is problematic because of what it suggests, that there is a world so much like our own, that it has to be us (if this were not the case, then according to what infinite entails, then an Earth or a 'me' exactly the way I am now that would have to stop just shy at whatever difference would have to exist to make it not me, would negate the idea that this is not in some way finite, there would have to be an infinite just like infinite minus the smallest possible liminal quantity it takes to make this possible, a physical quantity that both exists and doesn't exist, exists and doesn't exist only as a function of this system--that there has to exist an exact duplicate of infinite or more within all of the nearly-identical copies of it, which would still not define existence as finite, the way that infinite would seem to need to be the case from a linear causal standpoint (Ephesians in the Bible, for instance, says men are not wont to reconcile a beginning and an end of existence), a particle would have to be 'newness,' enough to differentiate one infinity from the other but not enough to mean the two aren't the same, exist as what's not to be copied but also does not exist, the universe in how it functions would have to be always in the process of becoming itself, like a rising yeast as it's cooked, as experienced by someone who could only experience that in increments, like an electron that travels along a copper wire, not an external view of all states imaginable, every possible outcome, perhaps the way it actually is, the way we view a copper wire as opposed to the way an electron does.). There's an assumption that an externally originating transmission wouldn't know to work with a person's sensitive understanding of the way he communicates intimately with other people and to himself to arrive at a desired conclusion, so one would first have to assume in this case an alien-to-self-entelechy that understands this, that would have this understanding to do this, to cause mischief, or that an entity would know this is the path of least resistance, with no value intuition, not even finely tuned, only using knowledge of perhaps neuronal configuration, each one like a fingerprint instantaneously and what that tends to correlate to. There are simple filters for processing thinking that could cause large perceptual shifts just based on that, neuro-physiology, like a delay in thought, which I've stated above, an externally-based orchestration of the fundamental way a person thinks. Even now there’s more thought as murkiness in terms of recollection of what it's like to carry on with a line of thinking with the knowledge that what's thought is what intended to be thought or that a branch of thinking, what would follow what in terms of how I'd most like to state a truth, the easiness of stringing together words that would make a sentence that personally rings coherent, and more of smartly timed cues to suggest the inevitability of all of it, as if it was normal to think wrongly, as I've never thought before, like. for instance, it's a foregone conclusion that my mind is imminent domain; a voice cuts in with something that sounds like a intercom. The knowing center, especially objectivity as a base is continually compromised (one way you could approximate the gist of what's taking place, is if you could imagine this was of the utmost urgency, that for example, a person needed to know for certain that what I've made or some core part of me was exceedingly discreditable for sure, the way a person  who has assumed his own superior rightfulness would have to save face for projecting onto an artwork for instance his own foibles and vices, hang ups and inhibitions). It could be that I'm being told something, but on the face I get nothing of definite value informationally but what would seem to be the goal for someone who needs to save face and can't do it, or is faced with the specter of it, a gradual depletion, everything that could be done in this span of time to creatively rewrite my conspicuous trajectory of making art for decades, having had made art for that amount of time and attending high school and college specifically for that. This is mostly taking place in the theatre of semi-consciousness, and it’s still performed as an ongoing court, which is problematic when this internal narration of external and internal meaning is epistemologically attuned, more and more knowing what it would take for me to believe or how it feels for me to know what I'd most like to reasonably think. By way of this, saliency is reduced. The feeling of knowing and thinking what I'd most like to think, and communicating that way is compromised. This saliency is difficult for me to achieve without sanctuary, an actual private or peaceful space in mind, a few minutes, within several years, of actual quiet, the actual guarantee of no added presence or accompanying voice, as well as--if at all recoverable--the feeling of knowing I'm alone in thought to contemplate what I'd most like to, through to completion, especially as much as it fits in with my artistic goals, through to satisfaction. As a side note, there's a tuft of muscle at the base of skull situated behind the ears that's increasingly bulky, and, as much as it's served as a barrier for it in the past notwithstanding, it does now, more and more, prevent the jaw from settling into an involuntary state, the mouth as it happens to a lot of us is overly worked, especially in those times that can last when I have to mouth what I'm meaning to say before I say it, to prevent egregious misspeaking or overly erroneous logic (In Strunk and White’s bestselling ‘Elements of Style,’ a book still in heavy use today, this is introduced as a technique to improve writing, so I’d imagine many millions of people still do this.), but I think this also has something to do this wakeful state, the continuous disruption of healthy sleep and this other thing, the entities we wrestle with, the externally-originating incoming that’s sent, as well as ourselves. The reaction animations are randomized and then made to seem significant. The follow-on statements are often directly proportional in emotional gravitas to the instantaneous belief response, the nearly-involuntary or involuntary one. An image of a known subject is shown, projected, and a follow-on animation is meant to indicate something permanent, some record of fact, like a how a person might deal with what's going on now (If you can imagine how much that could bring a subject into a state of comfort, the way Foucalt said that might occur after being treated in an asylum.), what's happening to me, symbolically, a gesture that's means more than what it is, which further inculcates a person in overly reading behavior as sign, to further eschew healthy selective awareness and selective observation. It's a basically magic 8-ball toy that becomes increasingly more apt over time, so that more and more the indications of randomness, the differences between how a person knows what’s believable as symbolically pertinent and what's orchestrated are diminished over time. This is exacerbated by external and internal cues to believe more, to contemplate less. The capacity for extended careful contemplation is reduced significantly within the first contact, and is almost lost completely a short time after that. It would think it would be nearly-impossible for the undereducated, underaged, disabled to be aware of what's taking place as it's happening. This is how a I imagine it would work: a list of options is run against a list of identifiers associated with each documented sensation. When one sensation registers, it's linked with an identifier, this sensation could be one of reflecting on someone of importance, possibly an influencer, a sub-identifier or subset of identification code could link this to a internal sense cortex, such as a visualization. This sensation and this image is connected to a symbolic animation option such as a turned head for a portrait. What then exists is a record of this projected image and this follow on animation option. I think the other possibilities for follow on animation are subtracted save for what would be most antithetical to a person's values, how a person would most like to think, so that over time as the same sensation is produced with it's associated image, the chances for thinking any other way but a way that points to a follow-on animation is diminished, especially when all other ways lead directly to the most antithetical thought. With images there appears to be, like I said before, an initial identification of what can be gathered to be what's sensed visually, by what's actually seen, what's visible in the visualization cortex, and what can be determined via datamining, especially if it's real-time data-mining or surveillance in general. In this instance there's what's identified based on image association, such as the way a code could determine what values and colors and facial features are displayed and what that's normally associated with...In this case, there's an association that might reveal that not much can be gleaned by listening other than perhaps sonic vibrations or a description that guides others, or what a person would like to think about the way this is working out, for instance, that a way of communication must always be kept in mind or enough to neutralize focus, the way a person would normally engage or go about doing whatever it is that he'd most like to do, especially if it's what has always been done. It seems to access pre-auditory cortex production of what would be sound to me, that's as much as possible not connected to cord vibration production of sound, so is able to reproduce, in a linguistic sense, what would constitute a phrase. It employs oralism to become increasingly adept at lip reading, so that an image's production of the appearance of a person talking is met with real-time congruence, i.e. speech that's naturally camouflaged with moving lips, with increasingly accurate English regionalism, so this points to an image capturer that is capable of processing many states or all possible states of speech production as it's seen by a person watching a person speak. The fact it might be more difficult to translate what would take place without having that vantage point, a frontal viewpoint as opposed to any other way makes me believe it's still in development. But what this also points to is an image capturer that works strictly with that, with say how a cord vibration might resonate visually on an RF spectrum analyzer or some other signal detector, the disturbance of a wave, the presence of a signal amongst noise and how that's altered to match specific points of speech production, such as what would correlate to an 'Ah' sound or a 'Juh' sound. I mentioned before about how a program could reference a dictionary of words associated with the evolution of cord vibration states, as the word develops, and that's optimized, the way high frequency trading works, so that for basketball, the first part of that word 'ba' would-open what would be the widest possible field for this word, words that start with 'ba,' and as that word's produced, following with 'sket' to produce 'basket,' the reference field becomes increasingly smaller, if you can imagine sand in a once top-heavy hour glass, this is the way it would work. So, by the time 'ball' is reached, the speed for correlating signal-to-word is near-instantaneous, or perhaps balancing as much as possible, offsetting what would seem to be a delay however slight at first recognizing and accurately matching visual-cue-to-word, so that by the time the image-to-word operation has been completed, all measurable perceptions, as much as possible, point to seamlessness. Of course, this all points to ominous possibilities for this kind of technology, like all readable sensations, as much as they can be detected, correlating to some kind of data, that's later compiled into information, sometimes information or just raw data that can be used to perform some task, sometimes made to be instantaneous reflex. So, as much as phenomena is data, this could be narrated as it occurs, or as much as narration understands the conditions for perception of phenomena and each correlating subsequent reaction, shortterm and longterm, actions taken by a subject can be predicted with increasing accuracy. And as much as this understanding--how legible information can be, and how intimate an actor can become with that information--can be used to act on a subject, discreet or overt actions taken upon a subject can be adjusted to produce a desired outcome. What seems to be the case with image recollection or if and when this is the case, an immediate foreshadowing of a action very soon to be taken, what seems to transpire is image production as much as possible is outsourced to this externally-originating orchestration, that means increasingly an impulse to reflect or foreshadow, is not coupled with an authentic near-involuntary produced image but an amalgam of an intended image and an externally-originating orchestrated one, or the externally-originating orchestrated one altogether. This could mean that as much as possible, as much as it achieves the perception of seamlessness, the absence of any sense of change in this basic function, images are instantaneously produced (the way that speed is perceived, what would constitute instantaneousness in a subject, i.e. as fast as thought, or usually how fast an image produced would respond to that associated impulse.), images and animation orchestrated by an externally-originating source are possibly synced with what would be the elements of that construction, and in the same way that words are detected by registering the evolution of cord vibration states, the evolution of thought as an image produced could be tracked then intercepted with a melded image--the butt end of a curtailed one, or entirely different image altogether. As much as movement can be determined by some close-read kinesiologically based prediction (that seems to work with a library of lifestyle and cultural content that would most likely correlate with temporal body states and sensations, like the changing consistency of surfaces and materials as they’re sensed, even if just the memories of those touches, what they mean in particular contexts, what a change in touch, the memory of one means for a narrative, the way that’s forcibly illustrated, and other sources of incoming data, like audio, etc.), an intended action, the one meant to be foreshadowed is displayed with increasing succinctness for both motion and image-accuracy, even if in the vein of mockery--possibly, decreasingly, a cover for a lack of actual capability in response time, rendering, animating, and the certainty of a lasting impression of seamlessness, that the thought produced is my own, tricking me into believing that the thought-work it takes to visually conceptualize has been minimized (...an increasingly apt seduction into weakening that natural but also painstakingly-strengthened capability) . As far as the evolution of cord vibration states goes, it seems this capability works best when the subject is at a standstill, when positioning is ideal. This could mean this capability reverts back to conservative operation if it has been predicting the outcome of a future statement based on a prompt for a response, the probability of an action most likely to take place, based on data already collected, and positioning is no longer ideal, especially when a body is in motion. This means adjustments for the evolution of cord vibration states are conditional, i.e. what would likely, first, be word production detection, followed by the identification of which word would most likely follow. Over time, a library of phrases might be compiled and referenced based on circumstantial context along with neuro-physiological states, physiological states, and this would be insured with conditional word production, as each word further confirms the likelihood that a particular statement will be made  i.e. sounding based on the evolution of cord vibration states and the data associated with it, the statistical likelihood that a word will be produced based on incoming data. When a subject is in motion and cord vibration states are difficult to detect and thus predict, this system seems to err on the side of a continual second presence, a continuum in the mind and ear of the subject, so that it attempts to match a predicted phrase, vice a repeated one, to the subjects internally-originating phrase, based on the data it has available: first, the most likely phrase to be produced based on circumstantial context--externally-originating stimuli, or an externally-originating prompt for a response, followed by the insurance of this, what would most likely further reduce ambiguity, the decreasing likelihood that this phrase won't be produced, based on the evolution of cord vibration states. But when detection fails, when it's most likely to occur--when a subject is in motion, when there's attenuation, a power outage, etc.--it is possible for an externally-originating near-real time veri-simulation of a subject's speech production to differ from an internally-originating phrase produced by that subject, especially as a subject varies word selection within adhering to the likelihood that a particular phrase will be produced, i.e. beginning a phrase with words that fit that likelihood. It's possible that what could be identified as pre-auditory speech, or what neuro-physiologically would constitute audible thought can be repeated back near-instantaneously, or with what the most statistically and linguistically sound response would be, that would work in the context of what the nature of a given phrase would most likely be. The likelihood a repeated phrase is fit might be increased over time through involuntary physiological confirmation, so as much as possible, especially with modulation and repeater delays, an increase in seamlessness, a diminishing perception that a second presence is  artificial. This is the same process used with internally-originating image production to counter all internal dialogue, peculiarity of thought, especially carefully considered contemplation. This morning was the furthest yet I had been semi-consciously another self. That means for as much as consciousness could be that without being that, I was thinking and speaking in mind as someone else, a commentary that's fluid even though it's incongruent with what I'd most likely think and what I'd most like to think. So, before and after that state was the experience of, as much as I can pinpoint, me as I should be, but in between those times was an action as much as it can be that at rest, in a semi-conscious state that was not originated by me. There's still no way to tell if more can be done to curtail wherewithal within me, any remnant of any genuine agency. Even after that, was a snack of a meal, a bowl of cereal, eaten with the facial muscle-memory of another, like another person altogether minus a consciousness that follows a tendency to reason in a certain style, the way I'd usually like to ascertain things.  And furthermore on the previous day, while even approximating these unusual occurrences, the mind went the way it would sometimes do in the past--but for past reasons, hinder even the basic work of reason, documenting observations, and sufficiently capturing the function of this encroachment. Thought those notes might seem to be the same as always, yesterday, they were a laborious chore, like building a wall. More and more the mind is bludgeoned with unwavering abuse, like I said before, everything that would diminish strength, or work against anything that has always worked in my favor. I haven't been alone in mind for some time now. I haven't prayed or reflected alone now for some time. I haven't read a book alone for a while, for at least a few years. I’ve been unemployed for over ten years. There's no way to convey to the people around me that this is unnatural. They seem to succumb to what might be a kind of universal spectre of shame for me, for some reason, that at every turn, at every point of rightful repulsion at this continual violation, even at the bud of impulse, I might be forced to reveal, to the chagrin of loved ones or the most highly-respected and treasured keepers of our collective becoming selves, with their looming non-budging judgement, a deviance that would mar my name with what my obituary would most likely have to avoid alluding to, or some other reason, a communal goading at the interpersonal level of interaction or perhaps an amalgam of little concessions of inferiority, that a man should be bludgeoned just cause, just because of what's obvious, some evidence that would be sure to emerge, even if only in the mind of everyone that that needs to be in mind of, what would have to make-sense to make that case, to avoid the socially unhygienic prospect of declaring someone is being wronged by a lot of people, that a lot of people are wrong, even a lot of people we like or love. This could be happening to them, too, the people around me I'd like to convey this to. Though I might not be able to accurately determine to what degree in the past or the immediate past when I was addressing a particular object in way that would betray infact what was before me, it seems that it's possible for this to be known to an outside observer, but to an observer who would have a difficult time making that final determination as to what, given a 1:2 chance of guessing correctly, I was referring to infact. It would seem that as much as this is compromised--the degree to which I could correctly make a determination involuntarily or other wise, nearly such, about the fact of what I was observing--an outside onlooker reading that language--the kinesiology of me, the neuro-physiology of me--might need a level of certainty above, say, 60% or more for a true or false supposition. What would seem to take place is that given the uncertainty of that sensation in regards to how it might correlate to the truth, this outside observer might err on the side of verbal confirmation, especially if that confirmation has historically meant the strongest likelihood of truth. So, what could happen is that when multiple modes of communication are collected and interpreted, priority is given to one mode of communication over the other ( e.g. instead of the two taken in tandem and given the same weight of pertinence) when the accuracy of either is subpar, when the two contradict each other, or they convey different types of information. And because, like I said before, the program seems to stick with a continuum, a continuous second presence, no matter what, a error can last, I believe, until new data prompts an information review that changes that. But even in this case when new data is available, the program might empty something that would seem logical, soundly tactical like two follow-on actions that cover the possibility for both outcomes a true and a false. What may be happening is the program is at times assuming a non-human subject when this happens, or a poorly coded definition of what would constitute a human subject,  and so assumes nothing will seem amiss when a subject would naturally seek experiential consonance, but only if the outside actor is aiming for seamlessness and not necessarily-detectable-mischief. Whereas before what had only seemed to be conditional response to the evolution of cord vibration states is now a direct response to thought content as it's communicated in the pre-auditory cortex (preparatory speech or dialogue connected to conceptualization), the suppression of all sensation of saliency, the healthy operation of the brain and mind, or what thought-work is like when it's in an optimal state, the neuro-physiology of it. The goal here would seem to be the inner most point at which thought resonates. The problem this outside actor seems to have is a problem of ownership of the thinking process itself (not a particular one), a personal intellectual pursuit, the inner-most sensational highs of empirical delight, meaningful reflection, the maturation of creative thinking, and the extreme clarity and succinctness that I've known, at times, when I reason, as crazy as that sounds. It continues to communicate that it's wrong for me to think, or that thinking especially as it goes for my ethnicity (or social-economic status) in this country--which is interesting considering my ancestors and all of the work that has gone into silencing their intellectual voice, or breeding out intellectual wherewithal--is not a native past-time, and so this is hate crime. Now that it has snuffed out privacy to the furthest extent yet, it communicates that all empirical inquiry is useless for me, and for that matter it seems to want all of existence to be viewed as only a material conquest, where, of course, I only take instruction, grateful to be paid. Seems like: Something that behaves as a transceiver in me, that's solar powered, that receives code that runs elsif statements that increasingly respond to the entirety of physiology of the infinitesimal, and it varies the degree to which it reveals this to me. Some code is stored and run in a simpler state, a local code in me, when not in receipt of a transmission, which is revealed when I am out of the way of transmission, e.g. when underground, going through a tunnel, in an underground aquarium, on a high-speed rail or subway train, and sometimes on a plane. It sometimes goes away completely during a storm or heavy overcast, or it’s attenuated, disrupted, as if an incoming stream of data they receive that’s continually interpolated, continually made informational is now unreadable. This happens with power outages as well, black and brown outs, which makes me think about electromagnetic emissions. Whatever new behavior I perform that's not readily documented by a reverse transmission, e.g. behavior underground, is interpolated through probability and 'question and answer' confirmation sequences in the form of sensual cues and my para-responses, nearly involuntary or exactly that. Uses timing of bodily functions to predict moments of significance, how a mind might still make folk-sense out of physiological changes, to disrupt sense, experiential-traction for later or instantaneous use in reasoning, by, for instance, modulating the natural sound a digestive system might make, a stomach growling, to mimic actual bestial groaning, a sound that's congruent with what we'd might like reason those organs could make in the realm of possibility. Continually exacerbates anterior-stance defensive mindedness by increasingly more succinct suggestive and incisive verbal or image cues, that might advertise or blend well within sensed stimuli, or are cued based on newly data-rich information, whose goal is to sever all internal and external ideas of social cohesiveness that includes me, a cohesiveness that continues, that's a reality outside of the reality I actively know. This could possibly be happening while an actual external social program is in place to exile me, to ex-communicate me, to actually sever those relationships, or the inverse, to strengthen them, possibly by a means made to seem to be working against that goal, to me. (elusive gap in communication, i.e. a kind of blackmail, that can't be known to me, due to the gravity of a deed, the perceived reality of it, as much as the crux of believability could be known, more than what's normal for above-average thinkers, e.g. if it could be known that knowing stomach groan would be reasoned to be a gut-knowing, that because that's the locus, that's the truest in the same way the most expensive, creative, or heartfelt mode of communication could be assumed to be the most truthful or true at all.) Whatever physiological mechanics takes place that causes that reaction, the chemical way, for instance, that could happen, could be induced as much as that could be a dopamine high, a reward for that gesture...If the signals the brain receives through the nerves that tells it how the body is feeling could be intercepted and modulated, then a number of physiological tales that exploit the folk-sense knowing bodily functions could be told to create an alternate physiological reality, also as much as nerves control bodily functions, this could be used to actually harm the body. It seems to have been used that way for me and is still being used that way, so I'm a victim of assault, a crime that's still happening...The code would have to be deployed with a large data spatial sample of cranial space and how sound heard tends to resonate, and once implemented, a spatial-tuning through a 'question-and-answer' confirmation sequence and thus more accurate sonic verisimilitude--what a sound  is like as it's heard by a subject. As I've stated before, if the cochlear nerve frequencies could be modulated before they reach conscious listening, if the pre-auditory cortex, the signal that that generates, could be used to modulate incoming sound, the cochlear nerve frequencies, and if the sound that's stored in long term memory could be modulated, all of that could be used to further manipulate perception or a folk-sense of bodily functions, especially neuro-physiology..   Worst case scenario: various auto-code a.i. machine code intelligences, each one coaching the less sophisticated one it subordinates, perhaps increasingly less coached at the apex by a human who never gets worse at understanding what he knows about machine code, but can glean what a subject knows in general by how a subject manages this conundrum, and he can work to know more of what that person knows and surpass that, of course. As this process degrades the intelligence of the subject, the machine code is more perceived to be close to the subject, to be an entity, and so thus the problem of perhaps returning to a state of intellectual equilibrium or to the convincing ambivalence that accompanies objective observation becomes more difficult as time goes by and the process takes its natural course, especially if the cue of reasoned natural (regional or professional ) speech that was once initially associated with quietude and emotional unavailability in this program is compromised or that what was once recognized as that reasonable state is only that relative to this adjusted sense of departure from reason, and the head coach is becoming more and more reasoned to the same degree that the subject is becoming subdued. Also, if an incoming signal created a mild disturbance in continuous magnetic resonance detection for that particular path, for instance, the eyes to the occipital lobe, at a very small magnitude of detection, it might be possible to translate the difference between a sample signal's path-traveled signature, and the current signal's path-traveled signature, (at a given frequency, each wave sent) and predict with increasing accuracy what the source transmission must be like for the current signal, based on what's known about the sample signal's correlation to past inferred source transmissions--If an instance of disturbance at an extremely small magnitude, what a wave does to continuous MRI,  is known to correlate to a particular light or color value in instantaneous optic reception, based on large number samples.  If this process could be streamlined and recorded and monitored in real-time or near real-time (as an animation, multiple facsimiles of the inferred source transmission, one after the other at a desired speed), a person who is knowledgeable in visual language could approximate with increasing accuracy--as the process becomes increasingly more streamlined, as the number of verified samples increases, and MRI becomes increasingly more accurate (or whatever medium of detection serves as a foundation upon which to compare samples)--what the content of the source transmission is, i.e. what the subject is probably sensing, e.g. looking at, or hearing, etc. That info, in as much as it could be handled could be used to, for instance, along with modeling inference, influence an unwitting subject, or help correct discreet issues with sense organs, or artificially enhance them. There was a stock, Shopify that increased many folds, %300 or more, over an initial $100+ asking price at nearly the same time I touched down in Hong Kong and experienced a sonic-psychological bludgeoning that continues now. That's not unprecedented but its abnormal. I bring that up because the market is supposed to operate with an invisible hand, if we exclude the possibility of front-end manipulation of website data, so those numbers at least correlate with the timing of that event, i.e. if all targets if more than me were inner-directed people, a prize amongst marketers, then that data, whatever finality that would mean, could be sold or used make more accurate market predictions. If it's just for me which it seems to be at times, then whatever data about me that has already been collected is used as a basis for new incoming data to form a complete picture. This is ongoing thought collection, not just naturally occurring communication that someone is listening in on.  Where one repeater stops another repeater that works with probability picks up where the first one left off, especially after a wordy sequence that can't be reasonably believed to be replicated (made up words, etc.) that fast, so a signal that sends back what's transmitted stops and another repeater finishes. This is done to complete the illusion of a smartly listening ear surveilling, whether or not one is actually there. I think this is the script: demoralization that doesn't look like desperation or a kind of terrorism. To make infer intention, or pursue desire based only on discreet cues, nothing concrete, but no desire fulfillment or return to objectivity. To compromise structural integrity through a combination of denial and command. It's difficult to achieve this if the subject doesn't recognize an authority where there is none. This means if, for example, a game is being played, a person can forever elect not to play, but by playing or even recognizing gameplay as an option he renders himself subject. One game is to have a person believe he's avoiding becoming a sociopath, while goading him into placing the highest the importance on what a group of his friends and family thinks, so to give up considering social norms and consequences for the often arbitrary customs and consequences of another social group. One way to gain authority is to brute force voluntary assistance, so that if there is an ambiguity around the truth of some possible moral deviance, 'help' in the form of a convenient distraction is provided, especially when the goal is to simultaneously cover up some horrific wrongdoing and further condition a subject to think he's a bad person, unworthy of inalienable rights, the fact of the subject's perceived silence, through communication failure, on this issue is  used to suggest the inherent validity of the oppressors' claims. The brains functions are more and more outsourced in the vein of help, helping to think, the loss of functionality converted into new content or other ventures, but this really only leads to full knowledge of the inner-workings of the subject's mind. To reverse-engineer wherewithal, confidence, agency to correct it, as if it goes without saying it's a criminal act. Here, it's at least a social crime. What they do is constantly interrupt momentum through humiliation and other forms of immediate demoralization, which is deadly for people who need motivation to perform or improve. Every free impulse down to the neuron is made to seem to be connected to some bad outcome, or all personal interest is made to seem to be at the expense of community well-being. Learning a new discipline or skill, reading a book, a good one, and staying fit, are all punishable offenses. Grooming and caring for your appearance or some other self-care, healthy pride behavior  is a punishable offense, met with an equal and opposite force every time. Every thought is critiqued and vigorously redressed, made to, at least, seem to be orchestrated by someone else, especially thought connected to personalized internet search, as I've said before, by an outside catalyst, almost as if there was a direct financial benefit to it, or some other party directed benefitted from this much suppression. Thinking is vigorously redressed as if thinking is a privilege that only some local central figure can enjoy. So in regards to what has been before, has always been since birth, but significantly diminished to a degree at some point, perhaps 2004, (when the wings went) was a way of working, particularly with what’s needed fundamentally to make the kind of work that has to be constructed of sorts, this has been replaced by--and this is the way lies work that are crafted with love--a new 'software,' as conveyed to me by what's transmitted, an update, so much more in the way of a hubbub visually around every thought that endeavors to create or carefully contemplate, as if a highly developed software could as much as possible, as creepy as that sounds, mimic human thought, genuine creative inquiry, especially of the kind that resonates inside visually, if you can imagine someone, some technologist, the way they drift off, like a reluctant virus, into their own staunch conclusions about what the humanities are worth. What it needs to do, to save the ego of that kind of architect, is to be sure that this is what I truly want, and it vigorously does so, because what mustn't be is a certain antithesis to his own sense of superiority. This must close in on the infinitesimals, certainly the only few of them, that make up the creative liminal. Beyond the fact that this is problematic, that fact that it exists, is the lies it tells about what a personal trajectory is worth, really worth to anyone, what my specific one is, its progress, and what it's doing for me. It means to replace genuine contemplation, wholly-organic, with neuro-physiologically, or more scarily, neurologically cued thought-content, the way that personal search can be entertainment now, increasingly has to be that now, so deemed by shareholders and what have you. An approach to enlightenment through search, however that might arise, is constantly met with what would doubly steer you wrong empirically and supply your base carnal yearnings with increasingly what it needs in lieu of objectively sound progress. It does this over time and what it's like is an undesired host in the vein of pampering, ornate more than accurate, gaudy and sensational more insightful, as a shepherd for quality thinking, what the west calls the best that can be thought, the way that a runner can be juiced, against their will injected with steroids that improve time but erode at form and knowing, but upon losing that supply, he finds he's more weak than he was when he started receiving, unbeknownst to him, those dosages. I would never willfully agree to this. Thought is not supposed to be shepherded at the collegiate level. It's supposed to be developed. There are resources available to guide, projects to be completed, but I would think the utmost dishonor one can do to a thinker or an artist is to take away his mind, his sense, his approach to world. I suppose this becomes more of an unforgivable encroachment the further you are along in your intellectual or artistic journey. What tends to occur is a weaving of thoughts to fit an always morose story, often one that plays to emotional finality, a denouement, or denouements, one after the other. This is necessary for the layman who sees empiricism as a temporary state, like adolescence. A man, especially my kind of man, of being, for this invader, must be returning, true to nature, back to some entirely illogical bedrock. This is not implicit bias, this is baked in and solidified bias. 'It's foregone conclusion...' is how their thoughts always begin, '...that this subject is inferior, and so how his thinking must go, he must be searching for a return back to normality for him which is only subsistence. What can happen when a person is wont to or conditioned to concede serfdom where there aren't circumstances for it, to defer to an authority where there is none, is that a foreign presence seeks a story that best fits their base ideas about a subject, the opinion of a subject low enough to  prevent the loss of their sense of superiority. So, especially if unbeknownst to a subject, all data-mined information, over time, a surveillance data, data and thus information from elsewhere is combined to form a complete story of the subject, one of the subject being continuously watched. And this information is used blackmail a subject, to pressure him in a number of ways that ultimately serve to eliminate agency. For instance, a person becomes 2D to address the need of a force of state to always understand each behavioral impulse, psychological impulse, internal disharmony, and neuronal anomaly. What often occurs is the foreign presence exacerbates ego, by constantly goading you to give in to carnal impulses at the foreigner’s cue, so a deeply narcissistic toxically hyper-masculine environment will want a man to bludgeon an adversary on cue, of course under their watchful 'objective' eye. As I've said before, rightful retribution can take decades if need be. It doesn't have to answer to linear goading, a constant driving to perform revenge as if the amount of persistent instigation ought to achieve a certain outcome at a certain time or else, of course, the consequence of socially-lethal mutilation. Though, in general, occasional (as in yearly) encouragement to defend one's self,  itself, isn't bad. It's often good to fight back in self-defense, and righteous personal discourse on defense in between victimhood and rightful retribution or resolution can often serve as a balm until victimhood has ended. I had said something about the cognitive bias of associating complexity with gravitas in assessing the validity of communication. People, culturally, give more weight to temporarily unverifiable truths that are creatively communicated or expensively communicated, or communicated using antiquated but sacred means, or means traditionally understood to be truthful. Just like a person could be predisposed to bonding with people who are likewise suffering, under societal foot, a person can give consideration to a truth proportional to the obstacles to being in reception of that truth, so a person could more dismissive of a truth clearly or lazily communicated than one that is perhaps sent by post as a sentence, one letter at a time. This is complexity bias, which is easy to exploit. As much as understanding or reception is hard-won, even when no valuable or truthful fact has been communicated, a person might still tend to consider this line of communication because it's anomalous. And as much as pressure and circumstances necessitate resolution, this other unresolved line of communication could intermittently supplant a healthy objective focused reception over time, especially when neither provide the truth that's sought, and as much as the unresolved line of communication exponentially transmits more than the traditional one...so much so that the method of communicating even when it hasn't ever yielded any worthwhile transmission or actual truth--a transmission that justifies the inefficiency of that transmission method--can become the default of considering a statement to be true. Irony is also employed as a way to overstate the soundness of a realization, but it's also employed in this way as a failsafe for an underwhelming attempt to actually deter that line of thinking or a check for not understanding the context of a statement, until it can detect some level of physiological self-affirmation. And it uses something like a facial recognition software for digital cameras and applies it to neuro-physiological impulses. I'd imagine this works on an x,y plane and becomes acceleratedly more adept at synching this plane of visualization with neuro-physiological impulses, over time. But still, an actual limit to manipulation. What this seems to work with most are those images that are sensationally weighted, so specific people and specific types of people, and as much as traits and expressions can be approximated, as much as veri-simulation can be achieved, and as tedious they get, peculiar particular truths to be communicated, this allows for the seamless implementation of a kind of exacerbation execution on top of an authentic one that genuinely taxes the body, diminishes all creative thought or facility with active thinking. Image manipulation tends to migrate from a Darwinistic emergence of the most optimal images and movement in terms of resonance, to how they can be best used as instruction, to the use of those images as instruction. So crudely, what takes place is a replacement of those faculties--that add to the development of thought--with excitations, an externally-originating orchestration, what could be thought that would most likely lead to increased excitability in a subject mentally, and this is often coupled with external stimuli meant to further outsource the kinds of thinking that might add to carefully considered thought, like acumen, inner-directedness, and modes of conceptualization. I had said something about the cognitive bias of associating complexity with gravitas in assessing the validity of communication. People, culturally, give more weight to temporarily unverifiable truths that are creatively communicated or expensively communicated, or communicated using antiquated but sacred means, or means traditionally understood to be truthful. Just like a person could be predisposed to bonding with people who are likewise suffering, under societal foot, a person can give consideration to a truth proportional to the obstacles to being in reception of that truth, so a person could more dismissive of a truth clearly or lazily communicated than one that is perhaps sent by post as a sentence, one letter at a time. And as much as understanding or reception is hard-won, even when no valuable or truthful fact has been communicated, a person might still tend to consider this line of communication because it's anomalous. And as much as pressure and circumstances necessitate resolution, this other unresolved line of communication could intermittently supplant a healthy objective focused reception over time, especially when neither provide the truth that is sought and as much as the unresolved line of communication exponentially transmits more than the traditional one...so much so that the method of communicating even when it hasn't ever yielded any worthwhile transmission or actual truth--a transmission that justifies the inefficiency of that transmission method--can become the default of considering a statement to be true. Sarcasm can be employed as a way to overstate the soundness of a realization, but it's also employed in this way as a failsafe for an underwhelming attempt to actually deter that line of thinking or a check for not understanding the context of a statement, until it can detect some level of conviction, some physiological affirmation of truth. It seems to reference a library of sensations that correlate to ideas especially the most oft thought ideas and the phrases that normally follow, for instance, if a neuro-physiological, physiological or kinesiological sensation were indicating a relinquishing of a hold, a preparation for engagement, an oft repeated follow on statement might be, 'Oh, she's lovely!' What this system seems to accomplish is a speedy recognition of which phrases are more likely to correlate to these near-involuntary sensations or impulses to express something. But it takes moment-to-moment cues from those sensations, and mirrors those for as much as they can ascertain which phrase is most apt for a sensation or a pertinent reference, so an expedient copy of that process. So now it could be that there's an urgency, as far as the operation of this goes that places a premium on speed at the points that would most render an intercepted phrase-sensation correlation turned phrase spoken before a subject could speak it, a considered instant-recall of a shared cultural or personal content reference. And in cases when this is not the case and there is an actual working library of specific stored personal official--or cultural content that a person or a machine would know--something different might be taking place: There could be a group of subjects subject to the same forced second presence or transmission, let's say for instance if there was some way someone would benefit from a reduction in the quality of faculties, the ability to reason, moment to moment, a machine might know to monitor a group with the same working algorithm that conditionally specifies a library of content as it's associated with a specific identifier, e.g. metadata that's known to have been communicated in a particular way that's different from other metadata, and has been recorded, too. This second presence hypothetically would continue in this way until the subject would give in to a new aversion to the optimal function of his faculties, or otherwise would be dulled by that presence as much as that would negate the edge that comes from singular independent pursuit. But by this way, the use of conditional attention, a group of reasonable people could reasonably conclude an algorithm is personally addressing them, especially if it employs super-fast infinitesimally precise operations that react to neuro-physiological, physiological, and kinesiological sensations with unendingly increasing accuracy.  Seems to match image to impulse in the same way it adjusts to the evolution of cord vibration states, so that a nerve signal is intercepted or induced in some way, and an image is produced that most likely correlates to that signal, where there's is no overriding context and instruction for movement, as instantaneous as possible, there seems to be a system for approximating intended motion as those intentions develop. Today is the furthest this transmission has gone in making what had, up until now, clearly been a second presence, less clearly that. So like each morning when my consciousness is increasingly less clearly mine, as that has to be called into question more and more, most of  my internal voice, where preparatory-speech would be allowed to continue a teased out freedom of voiced-contemplation, to a degree, automatic voice, to the same extent like the way I had drawn--my voice as a check on the state of my thinking and an easy commentary is given no other options than, like I said before, the most undesirable thoughts and impulses--not in a understandable way, the way we all know how inhibitions can be a hobgoblin amidst freedoms and social norms, customs and virtuousness, the way, for instance the behavior of a criminal-sexual-minority has to be rationalized by somebody somewhere, and therefore that person or persons might be subject to considering what it must be like to be that and that they must know to stop at some point in that contemplation or consideration as much as it seems to grant them permission to behave that way, but a forced result, and not strictly that, a reverse of a pole, an electromagnetic switch for the wrong way to be, but a particular chain of thought that's never been quite that way, so I can't conclude it's just an underlying egotism awry in a functional way--explainable, but sadly control-lost in that respect, at the helm of subconscious-will to speech and imagery. And though it might seem like a strangely tedious thing to keep track of, the inner-workings of the mind at rest, too often in those under-reasoned areas of our union, truth is architecture not enquiry, so, for instance, for a once told fib--especially a damaging one, a social-snuff, that begs to be reconsidered by the subject it damages--it might be the interest of a person or consortium--where later perhaps the evolution of data-consideration-thus-qualitative-information-refinement leaves a past-case bare--to dress the elements of truth, not what would ever be admissible in a reasonable court, but what might make a court not consider reopening a case, or what would possibly make a judging person reason with a caveat in mind, for a hidden truth, objectivity only as that, an adherence that would render that quality, objectivity, stale, to finish a case in a way that might only readily be seen as rightful, the way we know a defending army mostly would need to be lethal. This seems to be a running theme these days, an external and internal conditioning, for instance, a person's ethical foundation, a sense of morality, forcibly deconstructed, the external factors that describe how a person is, fabricated; the elements of many multiple layers of particular truths manipulated to fuel belief of the validity of the most socially-maligned kinds of wrongdoings; and the internal facts of a person, bodily, psychologically, what can't be refuted by most people who think that way, that what seems to more tedious to bother sabotaging than it's worth, to them, is probably that way for everyone all of the time, and therefore the same requirements for belief should remain for the weightiest decisions and cases.

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Copyright King Ball Media. 2021. All Rights Reserved.

[theunvanquishedzims]

Calming my post-election anxiety with sweet sweet logic

So Trump is a wannabe dictator with crazy screaming fans who are headed toward violent armed meltdowns. What’s to stop him from going full dictator and refusing to leave office?

I’m glad you asked!

You see, the major difference between wannabe dictators and actual dictators is ALLIES. Dictators are surrounded with tight security, aided by the military, cheered on by media that they control, and are either helped, encouraged, or just ignored by other countries with the power to stop them.

Trump has charged the Secret Service money for the privilege of protecting him and his family since day one. You remember the first year, when his wife and son refused to move to the White House so the Secret Service had to RENT FLOORS in TRUMP’S BUILDING to be close to them? And how his extended family went globetrotting and the Secret Service had to accompany them? And when Trump himself insisted on hosting people at his golf club, he made the Secret Service RENT GOLF CARTS from TRUMP’S CLUB to follow him while he went golfing?

The end result was that halfway through the first year of his presidency, the Secret Service could not pay their own wages. Because half their yearly budget had gone straight to Trump’s pockets. And that’s just financially. I think we all remember how the White House came down with Covid and Trump still insisted on Secret Service agents driving him around to wave at people. He has not been kind to the people who are sworn to protect him. These people have had a front-row seat to his circus since 2016. When the time comes from Trump to leave the White House and Biden to take over, I doubt they’ll betray the country out of loyalty to Trump. If anything, they’ll be the ones to drag him out.

As for the military, Trump insulted and fired four generals from his administration staff. He said on multiple occasions that soldiers who get captured or killed are suckers and losers. He refused to visit a cemetery to honor the dead because it was raining. He tries to pander to the military by massive increases in defense spending, but that money goes to capitalists who make weapons and war technology, not the soldiers or veterans. (He also hypocritically accused military officials of being in bed with those same companies.) In a poll of 1000 service members 50% said they disliked Trump. Overall, he doesn’t act like a leader, and the way he skirts responsibility (like taking charge during the pandemic) doesn’t appeal to a group that functions on trust in their leadership.

A proper dictator would have spent the last four years cozying up to his generals and making sure they knew the financial and social benefits of answering to him personally, not the office of the President. And while Trump did adhere to the adage “find a foreign foe” to unite people against, he badly misjudged what most US citizens consider “foreign.” He hasn’t found a villain that we would root for the military taking down, and the people he targets (Latinx, Blacks, immigrants, and people in countries our military has already devastated) are not a minority he can turn the majority of the country against, especially with how many of the former two serve in the military themselves. When the time comes for him to leave office, the military might be the first to cut ties with the wannabe Dictator-in-Chief.

Now, the media. They’ve been treating him like a joke candidate since day one, but after he was actually elected and took office they’ve started to take him more seriously. He’s gotten his catchphrase “fake news!” to catch on, but that doesn’t change the fact that under his administration news reporters have been harassed, illegally arrested, and generally poorly treated by Trump, especially if they’re women. He’s trashed talked everyone, with Fox News being the last bastion of semi-legitimate news that openly supports him (and their credibility has taken a big hit over it.)

Despite this support, in recently months Trump has been increasingly dumping on Fox, even throwing the mediator they provided for the debate under the bus, and risking alienating them in the process. If his supporters listen to him and start considering Fox part of Big Fake News, it might possibly be the death of Fox, leaving most of his supporters adrift and isolated from their source of right-wing news, and sending the more extreme fringes into the arms of conspiracy theory websites. (I’m not saying this is bad, being cut off from Fox and its toxic stream of “information” can actually help rehabilitate the right.)

Honestly, I don’t think Trump ever had a shot at controlling the media like a dictator would, mainly because of social media. He’s in love with attention, and Twitter has provided him a nonstop stream of it. No other President has threatened, insulted, promoted, or hinted at war over social media the way Trump has, and he gets so much direct feedback and interaction with the public and the world as a result. He could have leveraged that by buying the company (through a shell corporation, obviously) and setting it up as The One True Source of Information, manipulating public perception of him and his administration by keeping a tight grip on what information he let out.

But he’s just. Not. That. Clever. He blurts out everything that crosses his mind, leaving his administration to play clean-up on his messes, put out fires he keeps pouring gasoline on, and claim he’s joking when everyone knows he’s testing the limits on what he can get away with saying. He took advantage of the direct communication with legions of supporters, but seemed to forget that his detractors had equal access and would absolutely call him out on things he definitely said, it’s right there on his Twitter account, they have the Tweet pulled up on their phone right now. Instead of operating a single state-run media outlet while crushing all free press and limiting internet access like other dictators, he’s mooned the world’s cameras and acted surprised when they put his saggy butt on tv. “Fake news! That’s not my butt! THIS is my butt! [image attached]” he tweets. “Twitter is so biased, they haven’t censored any of Sleepy Joe’s photos!” he later tweets.

And lastly. The key to a dictatorship’s success. To prevent outside intervention, the country a dictator runs must be unimportant and ignored, wealthy and well-connected, or scary and well-armed. Minor warlords are the former, Putin is the latter, Trump might have weaseled his way into being the middle. But at the end of the day, America’s whole thing is new leadership every four years. It was revolutionary to replace a lineage of kings and queens stretching generations with a non-royal elected leader who only held office for four to eight years, but we’ve stuck to that for 200 years and everyone’s used to it by now. It would take a charismatic and powerful person to move the American people towards abolishing such a basic tenant of our democracy, and despite the mob mentality that lead a small portion of his supporters to chant “sixteen more years!” in the heat of the moment, Trump is not that charismatic. He’s not that smart. He’s not that well-connected. He’s not that savvy. He’s not that good at politics. And he’s not that powerful.

(I was going to say something here about him being the laughingstock of the world’s leaders and shouldn’t expect any outsiders to help him stay in power, especially since his tax returns came out and showed he owes people a ton of money that he doesn’t have, but this post is long enough so let’s cut to the chase.)

Trump is a greedy, small-minded man that has clung to power by appealing to the worst in humanity and scraping away at the best. But he hasn’t succeeded. He’s a sad old man who will say anything to be loved, and I don’t think he even knows what love is, so he’ll settle for attention. He doesn’t have money, he doesn’t have an army, and the only allies he has are using him as a political pawn to further their own interests. They will cut him loose the minute he stops being useful.

Now, the bad part: crazy screaming fans. Fringe groups on the internet. Mobs chanting “sixteen more years!” Men with guns and bombs and kidnapping plots, men trying to get into voting centers to destroy the election, men driving trucks with black flags that say FUCK YOUR FEELINGS, TRUMP 2020 (available on Amazon for $11.99, I wish I was joking.) I have no idea how many people in this country genuinely love Trump. It is hopefully significantly less than voted for him. There are some big issues in this country that are make-or-break, and unfortunately by reason of running Republican Trump has aligned himself with some of them.

There are people who hate everything about Trump, but he put a pro-life judge on the Supreme Court so they’re voting for him. There are people who are uncomfortable with Trump, but they’ve forgiven their grandpa for saying worse at Thanksgiving dinner, so they’ll vote for him. There are people who don’t know a single thing about Donald Trump, but they see (Republican) next to his name on the ballot, so they vote for him. None of that means those people will side with him if he tries to make a move towards dictatorship.

Now there are people who love Trump. They’ve heard and seen the vile things he’s said and done, and are genuinely okay with it, because they are full of hate and rage and want to change the world to put themselves on top. I do not know how many of these people there are. I know they exist all over the country, not just in red states. I know some of them have guns and want a reason to use them, because they’ve been talking about it for decades. I don’t know if we can trust the police to side with us over them if fights start breaking out. (And I pray pray PRAY people de-escalate any fights, because monkey see monkey do, and one news report of a MAGA extremist shooting someone can inspire a hundred copycats can lead to full-on civil war like we've never seen.) I know we need to be careful the next few months, to take care of ourselves and watch out for the more vulnerable in our communities.

And above all, I know this: Trump is not going to keep this country. He got it through trickery and deceit and foreign influence and national indifference and people not taking him seriously. We’ve learned. We’ve grown. We’re taking him seriously now, and we will not let him take what we’ve already told him he can’t have. The election is over. He’s a loser. He’d better start packing his bags. Because he’s not staying in office.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Burned Part 7

Summary:  Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there, the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 7: Alfie and Louise escape to Margate

          The bakery was a war zone, had been for the whole week and it was finally Friday. Some men were genuinely afraid they wouldn’t make it to the weekend.

           Despite his new relationship, Alfie was in a terrible mood. He couldn’t spend enough quality time with Louise anyway. He’d work through the middle of the night, much too late to drop by her apartment.

           Sabini had been giving him trouble and the two had fallen out yet again. He was harassing Alfie’s bookies and the two got into a heated argument over the matter. Racial slurs were tossed about and it ended with Ollie stopping his boss from whipping out a gun.

           Now everyone was a target. Even Louise was given grunts or clipped one-word answers. It didn’t bother her so much as she knew the anger wasn’t directed at her. But it did bother her that he was distressed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Finally, one hot summer afternoon, she had to intervene.

           “Fucking hell…Lou? Louise!”

           She looked up from her desk situated right outside Alfie’s office door. She stood and went in.

           Alfie was sat in his leather chair, one hand braced against the desk, and the other grasped his cane tightly. A disgruntled look of pain etched into his face, his forehead wrinkling and brow furrowed.

           “Help me up.” He said curtly.

           Louise didn’t think it was wise to remind him of his manners. “Is it your hip?” She walked over to him. Cyril followed her, concerned about his master.

           Alfie’s hip wasn’t reacting well to the stress. His lip was more prominent which made him more upset because he despised appearing weak. He only confided in Louise or Ollie about the pain. Louise wanted to tell him it was because he was either sat at his desk working endless hours or beating up anyone who got on his bad side. But saying that would only make him more upset. Stubbornness couldn’t be cured by reason.

           “’Course it’s me fucking hip.” He replied gruffly.

           “What do you need? I can get it for you.” She offered.

           “I can get it, just help me up.”

           “Alfie, you’re in pain. You should take it easy, I’ll-”

           “I can fucking handle it!” He set off, slapping his palm on the desktop. Louise startled and Cyril whimpered, tucking his tail between his legs and cowering away.

           Alfie groaned and slumped back in the chair. “M’sorry.” He ran a hand over his weary face. “Just don’t wanna be some useless git who can’t get around his own fucking office.”

           “You’re been under too much stress.” She knelt down and rested her hands on his knees. “Maybe you should take a break.”

           “No rest for the wicked, love.” He set his cane aside and tucked a finger under her chin.

           “The bakery will be fine without you for a few days. You know Ollie can handle it.” She urged softly. “You need to trust that.”

           “Can’t, Lou, there’s too much going on right now.” He grimaced. What he wouldn’t do to just snap Sabini’s spine.

           “You need to get out of London.” She continued to persist. “You need clean air for a change. That’ll help your hip.” Her thumbs rubbed circles over his knees. “We won’t go far and they’ll be a phone so you can always check in with Ollie. You and I can spend time together.” It was an unfair tactic to convince him, baiting him with alone time, but it worked.

           “Margate.”

           “Hm?”

           “Margate, s’on the water. ‘Bout a few hours drive.”

           Louise smiled. “Should I go call for a rental cottage? Something by the beach?”

           He coaxed her up off her knees. “Fucking perfect you are.” He murmured before kissing her. Already some of the stress began to trickle off his shoulders.

~~~~~~~~~~

           “Oi! Put that down, you mutt!” Alfie shouted to Cyril who had gathered a large amount of kelp in his mouth. The bullmastiff romped around, the salty mess sticking to his face.

           Louise and Alfie made the getaway to Margate. Ollie was stunned that she’d convinced the boss to stop working for a few days. But he didn’t question it. They planned to stay for the weekend in a little cottage. It was just the two of them and Cyril. They arrived early Friday evening and headed down to the beach after putting their things away in the cottage.

           “Right, you’ll fucking get sick, not a problem of mine.”

           Louise laughed softly. “Let him have his fun.” They watched the large dog lope about the empty beach. His big paws leaving prints in the wet sand. He seemed pleased to be in the wide-open space with brand new smells.

           They were all happy to be there.

           Louise wrapped an arm around Alfie’s and pressed close to his side. They stood in the dunes overlooking the gray ocean. The sun was setting and it was a little chilly by the water. London’s brutal heat seemed like a lifetime away.

           “I want to die here,” Alfie said, punching his cane into the sand with emphasis. “Told myself, I wouldn’t die in France and I didn’t. Won’t fucking die in London either, it’ll be here.”

           Louise believed a man like Alfie could pick the location of his death. But the conversation still made her uneasy at the idea. She didn’t want to think about him dying.

           “No, no, ah you fucking git!” Alfie groaned as Cyril chased a seagull right into the waves. The dog splashed around joyfully, never having the chance to swim before. “He’ll smell fucking awful now.” He grimaced. “He innit sleeping in our room.”

           Louise smiled and squeezed his arm. “I think he’s happy.” She could see the glint of amusement in Alfie’s eyes even if he didn’t want to let it out.

           “Right, c’mon you mutt.” His arm slipped from hers and he limped further down the beach. “Cyril! Get over here, don’t know if you even can fucking swim.”

           She couldn’t help but laugh as Cyril charged out of the water towards him. The soaking wet dog shook off the saltwater right next to Alfie. The man groaned and rolled his eyes. Cyril galloped up the dunes to Louise, panting and wagging his tail.

           “Easy, easy!” Louise giggled and tried not to let him get her wet too. She knelt down and picked a few bits of seaweed off of his coat.

           Alfie returned with a damp shirt from the dog’s frenzied shake.

           “Why here?” She looked up from Cyril.

           “Eh?”

           “You said you wanted to die here.” She reminded him of their conversation moments before.

           He nodded and grunted as he lowered himself to sit on the sand. “S’fucking beautiful, innit? Want to die somewhere beautiful, wouldn't you?”

           Louise sat beside him, tucking her feet to the side and taking one of his hands between both of hers. “It’s got to be more than that.”

           “Mhm, maybe.”

           Getting Alfie to talk about his past was a careful task. It was like coaxing a beaten animal into an embrace. It took time and unbelievable patience.

           “Did you come here when you were younger?” She surmised this was the case. She would always have a special niche in her heart for her childhood places.

           He swallowed and looked out to the ocean. “Few times.” He finally admitted. “My mum took me here probably four, five times.” There was a clear softness in his voice when the woman came to mind.

           “You haven’t told me about her.” Louise ran her thumb over his knuckles, gently pressing into the ridges of his calloused hand.

           “She was from Russia.” He cleared his throat. The subject of his mother rarely came up simply because he didn’t have anyone to talk to about her. Someone he could trust with sensitive information. He only had three pictures of her and he prayed she would keep visiting his dreams. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, it brought him immense heartache when he woke and realized she was gone. But he wanted to keep the memory of her alive, the mental image he had which was far better than the grainy black and white photographs.

           “She was Jewish?” Louise wanted Alfie to know she was responsive and sympathetic. She wanted him to feel safe as he let her sneak a peek into his fiercely guarded heart.

           He nodded, his blue eyes still fixed on the horizon. “Were the reason she had to leave. They chased my whole family down. Slaughtering ‘em like they were animals. They got everyone ‘cept my mum, aunt, and father. Didn’t know my aunt, she didn’t make it to London. Was young when my dad died,

‘round six. My mum had my brother when I was four.”

           “You have a brother?”

           “Had a brother.” He nodded solemnly. “Lost him to the war. Wife was devastated, couldn’t handle my nephew so I took him in and put him to work.”

           Her eyes lit up in surprise. “You raised a child? You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

           He chuckled and shook his head. “Not particularly. He was a teenager by that time, just lived with me for a bit 'til he went out on his own. Fucking terror that thing is, a boxer too.”

           “Runs in the family, then?”

           “Well, when you’ve faced opposition your whole life, you’re raised to fight everything and anything.” He rested back on his elbows, not bothered by the sand.

           Louise’s chest tightened. She felt guilty that both her parents had raised her. Her family had never experienced tragedy like Alfie’s had. They’d been blessed and yet she rebelled and could never reconcile with her parents.

           He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Hell of a woman, me mum, did whatever it took to survive. Real small, outgrew her when I were fifteen at least. But she could pack a fucking wallop when she found out I got in trouble.” He chuckled. He could recall his tiny mother shouting at him in Russian when the police knocked on her door. Petty theft and harassing cops frequently got Alfie in trouble. His mother tried to set him on the right path but they were stuck in an immigrant, low-income community. The lure of crime was too great for a short-tempered teen like Alfie. His brother on the other hand usually kept in line.

           “Is that where you get your strength from, then?” Louise giggled softly.

           “Maybe.” He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Never stopped loving me though, no matter what I did. Called me her myshka.”

           “What does that mean?” She rested her chin on his shoulder and smiled warmly.

           “Erm…little mouse.” He admitted and his face went a little red. “Guess I was fucking small when I was born.”

           “Cute.” She cooed and squeezed his arm.

           He held up a hand. “No one else can know that, yeah?” He warned sheepishly. “Can’t have those fucking Shelbys using it to their advantage.

           “I promise.” The smile faded though. “What happened to your mother?”  

           Hard lines formed on his face. “She died when I was in Somme.” He explained quietly. “Heart attack.”

           “Oh, Alfie, I’m sorry.” She touched his cheek.

           “Would’ve loved you though.” He finally looked over at Louise, not lingering on her sympathy. “Granted, you’re not Jewish but she was fucking desperate. Wanted me married with children ‘fore I was twenty-one.” He sighed and shook his head. “But, ‘course, she would like you for you. You even me out, yeah, keep me balanced.” His eyes gazed fondly at her. “Took me quite enough time to find you, ain’t wasting it.”

           Louise smiled warmly and kissed his cheek. “We don’t have to waste any time.”

           His heart skipped a beat and he nuzzled her cheek. She giggled softly as his beard tickled her. Her face scrunched up and she arched away from him.

           “C’mon, you two.” Alfie heaved himself up and offered a hand to her. “Getting fucking cold, innit?”

           Louise had barely even noticed the sun had almost fully dipped below the horizon. She was too fixated on Alfie. The sky had darkened into a royal violet color. Bright stars began to appear and blink dimly. The wind had begun to pick up and goosebumps pricked her arms.

           She took his hand to stand up, brushing sand off her skirt. She linked arms with Alfie and they walked up the path to the rental cottage. Cyril trotted after them, panting happily.

           “Gonna rinse the sand off him ‘fore he goes in,” Alfie said as they returned to the stone walkway. The cottage was overgrown with roses and ivy. It was fairly isolated along the coast of Margate; the nearest neighbor was about a five-minute walk down the dirt road. It was heavenly. The air was still and the peaceful sounds of crickets and the nearby ocean surf were like a lullaby.

           Louise stood near the front door as Alfie led Cyril over to the water pump by the side of the cottage. She smiled slightly to herself as she felt the breeze kissed her face and the scent of sea salt tickled her nose. London’s smoke was just a wisp of a memory. She knew it would be extremely difficult to leave.

           “As clean as he’s ever gonna get.” Alfie returned with Cyril. The bullmastiff happily greeted Louise again with a press of his cold nose to her hand. She stroked his head lovingly as Alfie unlocked the door and let them in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           After a small dinner, Alfie helped Louise clean up the kitchen. It was something she had never experienced before. Daniel always disappeared once he was finished eating. It was surprising but she just smiled and thanked him afterward. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it like he was a child.

           It was domestic though, and Louise realized she liked it. Often times, as a married woman, she would dread to return home after work. She resented Daniel’s lack of appreciation for all she did. But she could easily imagine how wonderful it would be to return home with Alfie. Have dinner with him each night, read in the parlor together, and then head to bed. It was simple but meant so much.

           “You tired?”

           Deep in her thoughts, Louise almost didn’t realize what he asked. “Oh, a bit.” She shrugged.

           “Should call Ollie to check in. You can head to bed though, don’t need to stay up for me.” His ocean-colored eyes were tender on her.

           She nodded but decided to alter the plan a little. When Alfie retreated to the small sunroom to call Ollie, she shut the bedroom door. It wasn’t like Louise was planning to be devious that trip. But she was looking to relieve Alfie’s stress. And she could recall the wise words of an old friend who knew her way around a man’s body.

           “If a man’s stressed and angry it simply means he hasn’t had a good fuck.”

           It’d been some time since Louise indulged in the sexual desires she had as a rebellious young woman. She’d lost that sense of freedom when she was married. But Alfie awoke that side of her. And the holiday to a secluded cottage seemed like the best time to act. It was soon, very soon, into their relationship. But he was no usual suitor and Louise was a little too drunk on the idea of him.

           Louise stepped out of the bedroom, her bare feet padding against the cool wood floor. With a mix of excitement and apprehension bubbling in her stomach, she went to find Alfie.

           His back was to her, sitting at a small desk by the glass of the sunroom’s walls. He spoke steadily with the phone in hand.

           Louise came up behind him and looped her arms around him. He startled a bit but a hint of a smile formed when he sensed her against him. He continued speaking to Ollie, discussing any movements from Sabini.

           A bit impatient, she started to trail kisses down his jawline and to his neck. Her fingers fiddled with the buttons on his shirt.

           His voice hitched and he lost his train of thought. His chest tightened and he groaned quietly.

           “Sir?” Ollie’s confused voice came from the other line.

           “Call you tomorrow.” Alfie quickly hung up and stood. “Trying to seduce me while I’m on the phone?” He chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief as he took in her appearance. “Look at you, fucking tease, ain’t ya?”

           Louise batted her eyelashes innocently. “Well, my boss gave me a raise, so I could go out and buy some nice things.” She spun around teasingly to show off the blush pink nightgown.

           “Aw, that’s sweet, innit? You bought a present for me?” He smirked and grabbed her hips to pull her close. “Like red on you better though.” His voice was husky as his fingers trailed down her thigh. His hand fisted around the silky fabric of the nightgown.

           “Well, I liked the pink.” She tilted her chin up to just barely graze her lips over his. “Doesn’t matter what color it is, you’re going to take it off anyway.”

           Alfie’s pupils blew and he stifled a moan. “Where’d you learn to talk like that, posh girl?” He growled playfully.

           “I don’t kiss and tell.” Her fingers knotted in his hair.

           He chuckled breathlessly. “Fucking hell. Gotta say though, my religion don’t really take kindly to sex ‘fore marriage.” His voice was coy while she pressed against him.

           “I think you’ve broken more than a few rules, Alfie.”

           “Well, fuck, you’ve got me there.” He grinned and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

           Louise squealed softly at the sudden movement and kissed him deeply. Her feet locked together behind him as he walked to the bedroom.

Tag list: @vehement-care​ @kimmietea​

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[condemnthem]

LUDO (MARS, PETER, ARNOLD, DAMIEN, WHATEVER ELSE ALT YOU’VE WHIPPED UP LATELY), THE OWNER OF ONE OF US:

it’s been a long time coming, and you know why it’s all come down to this. you’ve manipulated enough people during your time on roleplayer.me that i’m sure you thought you’d get away with it forever. well, it doesn’t work that way. you get what you give, and you’ve given enough grief to last a lifetime.

you’ve put people who once called you friend through hell, and now you get a taste of it. and i want to make this point very clear: i do not care about your sob story. i do not care about how much you’ve been hurt. i do not care about how you got to where you are today. none of what you can say excuses the absolute hell you’ve put others through. take accountability. apologize. do what you can to right your wrongs. the pain you’ve caused is YOUR responsibility. you can’t put this on anyone but yourself. you can’t expect to hurt so many people and not be held accountable for it.

this case was rather personal to me because ludo likes to use his personality disorder as a crutch and an excuse to get away with his nasty abuse. i have the same disorder. by using your personality disorder as an excuse, ludo, you are glorifying it because you are making it your escape route. this disorder is NOT to be used as a crutch. no disorder is. you use it as a crutch as if you aren’t in crutches because of this debilitating disorder. you’re the reason our disorder is looked upon with suspicion instead of understanding. you cannot use your disorder as any type of “please forgive me” card unless you are actively trying to get better. and you aren’t. because you think therapy is a farce.

before i go into the evidence i wanted to ask for testimonies from those who were hurt. i was given this:

“There are a few things that should be said before you take your time reading all this. This is a place of roleplay and to escape. Unfortunately, some people use the hobby incorrectly. You ruin and sabotage the experience for others. A good amount of the users on this site may have a lot going on away from the screen, some don’t. Those who struggle are the victims of these narcissistic tendencies. Their emotions get involved without their control. They try to be there for someone despite their own issues. Sometimes they even try to put that other person first, which causes them to break. Then, there are some of us that cannot be emotionally manipulated and that is when these mind games go wrong. That is when the manipulator becomes so little and they try to blame other issues in life for their shit behaviour.

This place does not, and I repeat - it does not give anyone the permission to attack and belittle others because you have difficulty having a voice in your real life. It does not give you the right to attack someone's real life, because you said it yourself that you feel like you have not done anything great in yours. Your real life problems, your conditions, there are no excuse for those who have been degraded by you. There are a lot of them, by the way. Those people you still accuse of having abandoned you despite you being convinced that you were good to them? None of these people have abandoned you. They cared. They had to leave because you tried to show some sort of superiority and belittled them as a person. You tried to control them in and out of roleplay. They got tired of your negativity and your toxic attitude towards life.

A penny for your thought - have a muse, be honest, but don’t ruin it for others. You cannot attack people and  then expect them to be there for you. This place does not give you the right to manipulate others into a friendship that it is not wanted nor needed either. You cannot and should not hurt people's experiences by deceiving them. Something you still actively still do with the active alt in your own group who you introduced as your real life friend.  Think about it - if you punch a stranger in the middle of the street would you expect them to reciprocate with an embrace or punch you right back?

You cannot excuse behaviour you have radiated off yourself for months, targeted people with disturbing words, with lies, deceived multiple people that would have stuck up for you, all because of what you may be going through in real life. All you did was show who you really are. There is roleplay, and there is real life. If that line between those two worlds are so thin and so blurry for you - then perhaps this is something for you to reconsider.”

now for the evidence.

i made an imgur album of all the evidence as well as my commentary, so if you want to read it on imgur, there it is. i’m going to post the evidence directly onto here as well, however, just in case.

to start out we have an e-mail sent to roleplayer.me admins (basic rundown of ludo's offenses:

(roleplayer.me admins have done nothing so if that doesn't tell you they don't give a single shit idk what would)

here is the member who was reportedly “kicked” from one of us peacefully pulling their role:

the other member reportedly “kicked” peacefully pulling their role:

and here is ludo manipulating the situation to make it sound non-peaceful:

and ludo lying in a bulletin saying said members were “kicked out”:

now we have ludo speaking about his alts. here he is admitting to having a freelance (non-affiliated account):

ludo admitting to being another “member” of one of us, mars:

ludo admitting to using mars just to lure another member into shipping with them:

one of ludo's alts:

ludo posting one of us promos on his alt:

proof of one of us promo:

another one of ludo’s alts:

now lets get into his harassment and toxic behavior. here we have him harassing another member (18 YEARS OLD) through instagram dms:

(his instagram is rather well known with many members and he likes to post his music to make his members listen to which is connected to his instagram)

this shows ludo mixing ooc with ic and straight up lying about another member:

here one of his targets of harassment expresses their fear of him possibly stalking them:

the group owner from another group ludo was in countering ludo’s claims to peacefully leaving said group (reminder, ludo is damien):

a conversation between the owner of said group above and ludo about his harassment and stalking, as well as him shittalking to manipulate other people into believing his narrative:

here ludo tries to act like the victim and gaslight the owner:

here is proof ludo makes his “enemies” into villains for one of us and portrays them in a negative light (the name he used is their real name, making this 10x worse):

explanation from an rp ex of ludo’s about the harassment they suffered:

the screenshot shown above:

ludo harassing an rp ex over instagram dms and displaying classic abusive behavior (reminder, he has his instagram rather public to his members):

"i can genuinely admit when i am wrong" implying their ex cannot. also gaslighting because he can't admit when he's wrong. this will be further highlighted through these instagram messages.  "this does not mean that i take back anything i've said before, about how you've hurt me" contradicting himself when he said he can genuinely admit when he is wrong. "i thought our friendship was real... but evidently it wasn't the same for you" guilt trips. the rest i'm sure you can pick out on your own. it's all very obvious. 

"we're no good for one another. you hurt me a lot and i hurt you a lot." not taking responsibility and instead pulling the "we are the same, you and i" trope to minimize his responsibility. also further guilting them by writing a song about how they "abused" them. description: "Emotional abuse is just as bad as physical. Ask for help." (fun fact, i discovered this song before my birthday and related to it so much. it brought me to tears. fucked up it was used against someone in a moment of manipulation to make his target feel bad. peep the suicidal ideations in the lyrics)

ludo using an incident in their life against them:

"i miss you. also not like that matters" passive aggression and guilt trips.

gaslighting about spies.  guilt trips. also admitting to using exes' names in his storylines.

more guilt trips. more gaslighting. more excuses for exhausting his partner.

projection: "you just have this mentality where you constantly deny that you've hurt people so you can feel better about yourself." gaslighting by trying to make their ex's friend sound like they would "throw [them] under the bus in a heart beat")

here ludo is guilting their ex friend from above on line for not spending enough time with them:

self deprecation used to manipulate them.

here is a diagram shown to me by one of ludo’s ex friends:

they further detail their testimony in this google doc   and the text messages (between ludo and one of the members who pulled their role peacefully while ludo tried to say they were kicked) below will show you exactly what they mean:

using other peoples’ feelings to manipulate them:

dismissing the stress they are under with real life, gaslighting by saying they haven't done the effort when they are clearly burnt out. aggression:

guilt trips:

pushing them away. guilt trips. using others feelings to manipulate them. gaslighting by asking a clearly passive aggressive question and saying it's "genuine":

"i'm just relaying my personal frustrations" when he already has time and time again. let it go, damn. give them a break. stop being overbearing.

passive aggression. implying he means less to them when they are saying their friend put it into words they could understand.

blaming them coping with his abuse on them. that's like telling someone shouldn't retaliate to abuse because their retaliation is "hurtful" YOU DON'T GET TO TELL THE PEOPLE YOU ABUSE TO NOT RETALIATE AGAINST YOUR ABUSE.

twisting words. not taking responsibility for his lack of understanding and instead saying "what you said came off the wrong way". not their fault that you didn't get it.

this. THIS is what sent me. how DARE you use your mutual disorder as a way to guilt and manipulate. i have the same exact disorder as well and guess what? all THREE of us are different people. and don't say "change who i am" as if it's a BAD THING. YOU are the reason everyone leaves you. YOU are the reason no one wants to be around you. YOU are the reason you can't keep stable friendships. YOU DON'T GET TO FUCKING PULL THAT BULLSHIT. if you care for someone you will work on your goddamn self. you expect everyone else to change for you, but you can't do the same goddamn thing? IF YOU GAVE A SHIT YOU'D STOP THE BEHAVIOR THAT IS HURTING THE PEOPLE YOU CLAIM TO CARE ABOUT. FULL. FUCKING. STOP.

guilt trips. pity.

condescension. lose lose situation.

"IT WAS A JOOOOOOOOOKE" excuse. "but whatever. i hope whatever has you in a bad mood gets better and you feel better" passive aggression. pretending to care. fake comradery.

"you gaslight me" is a form of gaslighting, especially when there IS NO GASLIGHTING. this is also an example of projection. making them walk on eggshells.

"i'm willing to sort it out of you stop being defensive" punishment and reward. "i'm sorry IF..." not taking responsibility. "this was my response" ie: this is your fault i'm acting this way, when he is the abusive one. "you constantly use my natural reaction as your excuse for not being around..." YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR REACTIONS WHEN YOU ARE THE ABUSER. STOP HAVING THIS "this is me take it or leave it" ATTITUDE AND THEN WONDER WHY EVERYONE FUCKING LEAVES YOU.

gaslighting. trying to say they were not coming around BEFORE he started calling them a shit friend.

"we both act some type of way when we're hurt and you know it" gaslighting, using their mutual disorder against them. AGAIN. YOU (ludo), ME AND THEM ARE THREE DIFFERENT PEOPLE WITH THE SAME DISORDER. stop acting like y'all the same goddamn PERSON. stop PROJECTING YOUR SHITTY ACTIONS ONTO OTHERS. "not even saying this to be a bitch" the "NO OFFENSE, BUUUUT" tactic to "lessen the blow" of the shitty thing he's about to say. USING OTHER PEOPLE AGAINST THEM, AGAIN.

"it's the only way i know how to be" THEN CHANGE IT. GET HELP. STOP USING YOUR DISORDER AS A WAY TO GET AWAY WITH SHIT. therapy isn't a con, you are.

and then, after he knows he has no control over people, he pesters. 

an ex friend requested this be used at the end. i feel it sums up the feelings of everyone ludo has wronged quite well.

[vcdanvers]

Subway Girl (Carol Danvers x Reader)

Summary; Reader x Carol Danvers. R is out late and witnesses Carol being bothered by some stranger on the subway. Not knowing the blonde is Carol Danvers, better known as Captain Marvel, R comes to the rescue and insists on walking her back to her hotel. Soft. One shot.

Word count: 2100 something

Warnings; Mentions of harassment on public transportation

A/N: (21-7-2019) HIIIIIIIII what’s up, how are you doing? I promised @mcgrathandwives I’d write a soft Carol fic and then I randomly had this idea- for some reason it just kept getting longer, so here we are. I hope you like it!! If you do, it would be super awesome if you left a like (or whatever the cool kids call it) and if you’re feeling extra generous, some feedback would be amazing. Thank you for being here and have a great day (: Remember to stay hydrated! Love, Alie

 Your seemingly endless shift had finally come to an end, or more so you decided it was over. You were left to close down by yourself and the past hour had been incredibly slow. One customer. Purchasing one bottle of water. You had had more thrilling shifts and ending this one a little early wouldn’t hurt anyone. Fifteen minutes was harmless and if someone really wanted to buy something still, they should have come earlier. You had been here all day on exactly three hours of sleep- you had other things to worry about than some customer complaining about having to pay 5c for a plastic bag, like getting home to your hamster and catching up with the newly released season of How To Get Away With Murder. Those were things to worry about.

You had finally managed to kick the backdoor shut- the thing desperately needed fixing- when you realized you had left your bag inside. ‘Goddammit’ you muttered under your breath as you now had to break open the obstacle once again and would surely miss the bus you had been hoping on catching. An agonizing wait of about 20 minutes later- 20 minutes you could have spent doing anything but sitting around waiting for some tragic, 50ft long, smelly vehicle- you were ready to start your journey back home. You supposed this was karma coming for you for closing down early, or for your lack of sleep leading to you being forgetful at times. Either way, you were finally on the move. Deciding to put a positive spin on things you admired the stars blinking up in the night sky. ‘At least there’s something pretty out there’ you thought to yourself as you were nearing the subway station. The neighborhood you worked in was rather rough so you had to be on guard at all times, especially being a woman roaming the streets alone at night.

Thankful to have made it to the right platform and in time for the train, you leaned against the wall and plugged in your headphones, blasting whatever came on shuffle first. Outside it had been chilly, it being dark outside and with fall approaching. The climate inside the station was a harsh contrast, the air felt clammy and the wind coming from the tunnels was oddly warm. You hummed along to the melody of the song as you entertained yourself by doing some people watching. Not in a creepy way, you just liked to make up stories for the people you saw. An older man and his dog, a gorgeous blonde and a rough-looking guy who you would not want to encounter in a dark alleyway. Perhaps that was just you being biased though, besides anyone you encounter in a dark alleyway was one person too many, but better be safe than sorry. You looked over to the blonde again, she was busying herself clicking away on her phone screen. Standing with her legs crossed and without any awareness for the outside world, you worried about her safety. Did she not know she was not in the pretty part of town? Tourists don’t tend to stray this far from the center so she was a local most likely. A poorly informed local, that is. Your sense of responsibility kicked in and you decided you’d keep an eye on her. Rolling your eyes at your own plan you sighed, odds were that you were not going to get the peaceful night in you both deserved and needed so desperately.

As the train approached you got in after the seemingly clueless blonde, keeping your distance but remaining close enough to observe the woman. She had sparked an interest inside of you, with the way she was dressed she fit in perfectly but her behavior was what made her stand out just as much as the clothes blended her in. The part of the train you were on was nearly empty, you sat down on one of the seats and checked your phone for any new texts. There weren’t any. You opened the Instagram app as some means of distraction, looking at the highlights of people their lives and scrolling past ads of products you definitely do not need sure was fun. You glanced up every 30 seconds or so to see what the blonde was up to. She was still tapping away on her phone, clearly finding more entertained in the small device than you could. After the third stop some tall, dirty blonde guy had gotten on. Having been born and raised in the neighborhoods that had quite the reputation for high crime rates, you had developed some sixth sense for trouble and it was going off now. He laid eyes on the blonde and sat closer to her than was needed, considering a lot of seats were still free. The blonde, however, paid no attention to the imposing stranger, continuing her activities on her phone. You noticed the unknown man eyeing her up and down before he put his hand on her thigh and started talking to her, the disturbed look on her face indicating it was definitely unwanted. By now you had missed your stop but the safety of the blonde woman was your main priority here. You had to do something.

Giving yourself a second to gather your courage, you made your way over to the blonde with a huge smile on your face and with what you hoped to be an excited expression. ‘Oh my gosh, Zoe is that you?! It’s been so long!’ you cringed at your own voice and the slight look of confusion on the blonde’s face did not help your case. You bent over to embrace her so you could whisper your plan of escape, thankfully she stood up making the encounter less awkward. ‘Sorry about that, I noticed the guy. We’re getting off next stop. It’ll be fine’ You whispered quickly. It was then that the doors dinged open and you grabbed a hold of the blonde’s hand, pulling her along with you. You quickly scanned your surroundings and noticed one of the coffee corners was still open. You looked over to the woman whose hand was still in your grasp, ‘Let’s go over there, he might have followed us and he might not be alone.’ you spoke. The blonde was about to open her mouth to speak when you, once again, pulled her along with you. The sooner you got inside the better. Besides, it was cold. In your hurry, you tripped over the uneven tiles that were supposed to resemble some sort of pavement. Again, it was not the pretty part of town.

Bracing yourself for impact, you were surprised to feel yourself come to a stop and pulled back up. With your heart still racing from the fall you looked up at the blonde, you breathed out a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you…’ ‘Carol, the name’s Carol.’ You smiled up at her ‘Thank you, Carol’ your cheeks turning red upon realizing you were still clinging onto this Carol’s arm. You quickly let go of her ‘I didn’t notice, I’m sorry.’ God, why did you have to make a fool out of yourself at every given opportunity? Carol spoke up, her voice sounding confident ‘So, how about that coffee…’ It took you a second to realize she was asking for your name, ‘Oh uh, Y/N’ you managed to stammer out.

Inside the coffee shop, you finally regained your composure, you were cold and tired and this hot liquid was going to fix both of those things, or so you hoped. Carol her drink was now ready as well and she made her way over to the table you were sitting at, sliding into the booth across from you. She wore a curious smile on her face before asking you what you were doing out so late all by yourself. You snorted at her question before noticing she was serious, ‘You’re asking me that? You do realize that you were the one that was basically an open target out there, right?’ As Carol shrugged in reply you continued, ‘To answer your question though, I was late because I had to lock up for work. Which is not a problem because I was raised here, I know the area. You’re clearly not from around here, so what were you doing, straying so far from the safe and touristy area? It can’t be for your enjoyment, surely. Wait- did you get lost here?’ you asked, your voice now laced with concern. Upon noticing your genuine concern the blonde tilted her head to the side, giving you a small smile- you really did not know she was a member of the Avengers and, in fact, perfectly capable of defending herself. ‘Not lost, just out exploring.’ You nearly burned your mouth at her answer from taking a too large sip, she could not be serious right now. ‘Out EXPLORING? It’s nearly midnight! You should not be out at this hour and especially not in this neighborhood. Where are you staying? I’m walking you home.’ You internally groaned at this Carol, exploring at fucking midnight in just about the shadiest part of town imaginable. Damn you and your sense of responsibility. The frown on your face must have been more present than you had thought it would be when Carol spoke up, ‘That’s alright. I can handle my own, trust me.’ You sighed and were about to speak up before she added ‘Feel free to tag along though.’ and raised her brows at you in a rather triumphant way. You drank the last bit of your coffee, your brows furrowing when realizing it was the last bit. It was a great cup after all. You got up and were about to bring your now empty mugs back to the counter, Carol was faster than you were though. ‘Got it.’ She said, sending you a smile. You grinned to yourself. Perhaps this walk wasn’t going to be all that bad.

‘Alright, so where are you staying?’ You were stood in front of the subway map, trying to figure out how to get the blonde back to, what you presumed, was her hotel. Carol looked doubtful for a second before looking as though someone had actually put a lightbulb over her head, ‘The Venetian!’ she replied sounding almost cheerful. You laughed at that, ‘That’s in a friendlier area. Alright, so we have to take the yellow line and get out at the fifth stop. That’s not too bad.’ Making your way over to the right platform you found yourself looking over at Carol, noticing how she played with the ends of her sleeves and how she walked fast. ‘It’s okay, you’re not alone now- it’s safe.’ You said in hopes to make her feel more at ease. Carol looked at you with wide eyes and a faint hint of a blush creeping onto her cheeks, not because she was scared- of course not, but because you had caught on to her nervousness.

Carol was tapping away on her phone again, probably texting someone you figured. You didn’t mind, you were tired and the peace that came with not having to talk for a moment was something you embraced. You nudged her shoulder to alert her that you had reached your stop and when she looked up looking a little confused, you giggled and explained, ‘This is us.’ At that Carol smiled and got up, offering you a hand, which you happily took. The hotel was, thankfully, only a three-minute walk from the station. Having made it into the lobby you guys, or well, Carol was greeted by a slightly scary looking redhead who eyed you curiously, ‘Brought somebody, Danvers?’ You opened your mouth to explain ‘No, actually-’ before you were cut off by Carol, ‘Don’t try me, Romanoff. Hey, Y/N, can I see your phone?’ Oblivious to the underlying question you handed her your phone with a black screen while bearing a confused expression. The redhead laughed and commented ‘She’s asking for your number.’ You felt your cheeks heat up and silently wished for the floor to just disappear from underneath you, ‘Oh, uh, of course’. You grabbed your phone and punched in the code to unlock it, allowing for Carol to add herself in your contacts as you did the same on her phone. ‘Thank you, Y/N. I’ll text you to buy you a coffee soon?’ You smiled up at her, ‘Sounds good. Have a good night, Carol! And your friend too!’ You said before turning to leave. ‘Goodnight, Y/N.’ Carol replied, smiling. As soon as you were outside Natasha started prying, curious about your identity, ‘Who was that?’ To which Carol just smiled- keeping the story of a very human girl on the subway coming to her rescue between the two of you just a little longer. The teasing about that could wait, she decided.

[briek58454521]

Cancel Culture?...

Okay.

I’ve seen this shit going around for a while. I feel obligated to correct the record.

In the wake of multiple Breadtube users being eviscerated by the public in the last year, I’d like to talk... about “cANceL cULTurE”.

But first, some back-round. I’ll be brief.

Over a year ago, Youtuber Lily Orchard’s video about Steven Universe blew up the internet, invoking praise from many facets of online culture, as well as a sizable backlash, as any video criticizing Steven Universe will invariably do. In an attempt at a response, Breadtuber Sarah Z uploaded a video titled “Bad Media Criticism”, which around 17 minutes in, talked about said video.

The response was filled with, let’s face it, lies and actual bad faith criticisms towards the content, misinformation, omission of context in important bits, and general shoddiness in action (yes, I’m biased. Reality is biased, sometimes). Criticism was swift to arrive, and the video provoked Lily herself to respond. And in the face of the factual corrections, and legitimate criticisms... Sarah doubled down, and in her infamous Twit-Longer, decided to continue to assure herself and others that her criticism was valid because regardless of whatever Lily actually said, it was still bad faith criticism.

A short while after that, fellow Breadtuber Lindsay Ellis uploaded a video discussing Black Ariel, claiming that the decision to make Ariel black was entirely a decision made because of “Woke Branding” to make more money off of people and continue raking in more and more cash, citing HBomberGuy’s “WOKE BRANDS” video essay. Many commented that this was rather racist, considering that Cartoon Network is just as much of a greedy bastard corporation as Disney was, yet, denounced criticism of Steven Universe, a show of Cartoon Network’s body of work, because “support minority voices”, with the same people commenting that this looked rather selective.

Lindsay doubled down on the criticism, and would continue defending it and publicly shitting the bed as more shitstorms (PLURAL) would erupt (lol).

After THAT, Breadtuber CONTRAPOINTS/ NATALIE WYNN would publish many videos that kept pissing of trans and non-binary viewers with a fuck-load of back handed remarks and general derogatory comments about them, as well as getting pissy that people ask for her gender and pronouns in public safe-spaces. In “The Aesthetic”, Natalie had a character playing the role of the people who make the CORRECT claim that gender is eternal and that you are what you say you are, and ANOTHER who was a truscum who would repeat the arguments that “kinda hypothetical” and, “kinda a weak argument”. This would create a backlash, and Natalie would respond with a thread that, contained a lotta shit, but also contained THIS BULLSHIT. Straight from the horses mouth, fam.

“I’m sure this is not the experience of many NBs. I’ll leave it to them to articulate what NB existence looks like in a binary world. I do not and cannot speak for them. But surely(sic) an account that begins and ends with “I’m not a man because I don’t identify as one” is pretty weak”

Later, after deleting the thread and getting more shit for it, she would upload an absurd non-apology video called “Pro-nouns”, where she would dress up like a fucking clown-ass Oompa-Loompa who just escaped from Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, and make several dumb-ass claims and a fuck-ton of truscum arguments, including stating that she “wants to be a convert” to “believe” NBs, and that she would listen and respect NB people’s beliefs “so long as those beliefs are valid” After more backlash to that happened, she would continue this trend, platforming actual truscum like Buck Angel, selling anti-semetic reptilian agenda merchandise, and hosted a Patreon stream where she just... basically shat on everyone. She shat on people like HBomberGuy, for performativity in regards to the meme “Donkey Kong said Trans Rights” (yes, she is that desperate. She will accuse people who raise 340,000 fucking dollars of performativity and virtue-signaling), stated that older trans people would be considered truscum, and even that most of her friends were truscum.

The one thing that was consistent in these stories was the insistence that the criticism was just an attempt at Cancel Culture.

Cancel Culture is essentially the point where in an attempt to either exclude, harass, or target others for political views, religion, ethnicity, race, sexuality, gender, etc., people will devolve into many forms of online harassment and abuse of the media outlets, among other things, in order to silence the target, or deter the target from making an argument. It can even happen just because people don’t like someone.

For Sarah, this took the form of accusing the people criticizing Steven Universe of having a dishonest double-standard, because if a straight, white, cis-dude made it, no one would be saying shit about it. Even though the show is historically praised by WHITE progressives, and criticized by EVERYONE else.

For Lindsay, it was that the people making this claim were just fooled by the “Woke Brand” train.

For Natalie, it was “the Left is eating itself”.

I would like to say this right now. The only time I actually saw Cancel Culture in action was during the shitstorm that erupted with VivziePop and her pilots for Hazbin Hotel, and Helluva Boss came out and everyone was looking for a bunch of shit to bring up about Vivzie personally, her apparent “transphobia”, “homophobia” as understood by Steven Universe fans, and generally just a bunch of bullshit that Rebecca Sugar got away with when she pulled the same shenanigans.

That is Cancel Culture.

And the only reason I can see for it was just because Vivzie (to my knowledge, at least) isn’t a member of the LGBT community. (Those same people would respond to her stating that she plans on having Alistor, the Radio Demon, be ace with “Hey, did you hear something?”, btw)

(EDIT: I initially stated, as shown above, that Vivzie wasn’t a LGBT community member. She is. She’s bi. Apologies for getttin that bit wrong. I’d also like to mention that she’s Latin as well, but is also shit-talked for apparently being too white to be Latin. 

So......yeah. Can’t begin to imagine why all of those mentioned weren’t given the same treatment.... Was there any doubt when Lindsay said she was Native?......)

And that wasn’t the case with any of the aforementioned. Natalie wasn’t “cancelled” until she kept shitting on people for the fiftieth (hyperbolicly fiftieth) time. Sarah was never cancelled. She got away with slander, and was quickly forgiven just because she’s a leftist. Lindsay is getting away with excusing away, and flat out DEFENDING PEDOPHILIA, AND IS STILL POSTING. She ain’t cancelled.

Cancel Culture may happen sometimes, genuinely, like with Vivzie, but those are the exceptions that prove the rule. It’s mostly just “this person said I sound completely contrary to what I believe, it must be (insert cause)”

It’s Lily’s fault, it’s a dishonest double-standard, it’s the radicals, it’s Woke Brand brain-washing, it’s “bAd faITh cRitISIsm”, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...

Let me tell you something. In Sarah’s case, not all criticism is because there’s a dishonest double-standard. And even if it were, that doesn’t make doing something horrible because of your identity the right thing to do. Because NO ONE should be putting in the most racist, bigoted, and frankly gross and disgusting shit in their work, regardless of whether you’re white, black, gay, lesbian, trans, NB, Gen Z, Boomer, etc. Like the human zoo, the Amethyst-Garnet fusion, Bismuth, the Pearl-Rose dynamic, the Nazi woobification, and the blatant disregard for the very people the show claims to be an ally too.

See also, the N-Word.

Despite the belief that white people can’t say it while black people CAN, black people don’t use it in a conversation formally, and can’t really use it ANYWAY because it’s still a fucking slur. And if you say it in public, there will be consequences, whether it be social repercussions, or legal action. And people have been saying it less and less as a result of this attitude becoming more present.

In regards to Lindsay, we know, bitch. We fucking know. We know that Disney wants our money like crazy. We know that this could be just another woke branding thing. We know that brands aren’t our friends, we know, we know, we know, we know. We know, Lindsay, we know. But, don;t chat shit about it if you aren’t going to criticize Cartoon Network for Steven Universe, Amazon for selling Pride merch, and Target for Pride clothes. Because then we know that you’re being very selective about what you’re labeling as “woke branding”.

In regards to Natalie, SHUT THE FUCK UP. SHUT THE FUCK UP. That is literally all you have to do. Just SHUT. THE FUCK. UP. And accept that you aren’t as woke as you like to think you are. The left isn’t eating it’s own by disowning shitty people. It’s doing itself a favor for it.

Remember R. Kelly? Everyone said that black people were just turning on each other when actual, legitimate evidence came forward, showing that he;s a FUCKING PEDOPHILE. And that attitude would continue for almost three decades before someone FINALLY said, “No, this man is dangerous, lock him up”. You know the phrase “A few bad apples?” People only say that, and just ignore the rest when defending shitty people on the Left, mostly because they don’t want to disown them. The phrase, however is ACTUALLY “A few bad apples SPOIL THE BUNCH”. If you don’t weed out the bad ones, they’ll spoil the tree.

Most of this bullshit would have been solved easily if ANY of the aforementioned had looked at their behavior, ACTUALLY apologized, expressed due diligence, and STOPPED FUCKING DOING THE SHIT.

The only reason people get away with this is because A LOT OF PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET HAVE FUCKING TERRIBLE PRIORITIES.

People take more offense to someone shutting down an opinion rather than someone being a scumbag.

People jut decided not to care about Sarah’s lies ENTIRELY because “It’s Lily”.

People defended Lindsay entirely because “Fuck Disney”.

People defended Natalie because “The Left is eating itself, we need to support minority voices”.

Because the myth of Leftist-Cancel Culture is just an excuse to not have to change. To not commit. To not put in effort. To not expand time to bettering yourself or the environment around you. To jerk off to how woke you are while criticizing others who tell challenge that. To wax poetic because it’s good for your ego.

It’s not just them. It’s many of their fans, and hundreds of thousands, if not, millions of people on the internet. And by far, their worst deeds aren’t that they inadvertently or otherwise attract Nazis, keep sucking off incels, truscum, TERFs, pedophiles, and other facets of human garbage while disemboweling others for far, FAR lesser crimes on the basis that they aren’t woke or nice enough for their liking, or EVEN the harassment that they’ve engaged in, caused, and instigated.

It’s that they’ve convinced themselves that by doing all of the above, that they are in any way superior to the people they cry foul against. The people who call them out on their bullshit when it arises. The people who raise $340,000 for their OWN people while the most they’ve done is play dress up and recycle Eddie Murphy’s shtick for the 500th time. The people who are part of the very minority voices they claim to support yet disregard on the basis that they said some mean words, or argued in bad faith, or just have a personal grudge against the people that they criticize. The people of color who FLAT OUT know better than them, yet, who they write off at every possible opportunity as just believing that companies care, or that Disney is good, or even just write ‘em off as having the wrong priorities or being stupid, as if they are in any way super clever and superior for coming to a conclusion that many more talented, creative, intelligent, and just frankly BETTER people came to years ago. 

They are MORE PERFORMATIVE, more ENTITLED, more ARROGANT, more IGNORANT, more UNAWARE, more BIASED, more SELFISH, and more SELF-INDULGENT than a good 98% of the people they criticize.

They hate these people so much...because they hate looking in mirrors.

And Leftist Cancel Culture is just a manifestation of that psychological projection. Simple as.

If you skipped to the end, fuck you. No TL: DRs in this neck of ‘da fuckin woods

[emperorren]

(Netflix anon) look all I’m saying is that it’s the anti antis who fall the fastest when a plot doesn’t go their way. if Reylo doesn’t happen in tros, like with Daenerys and Tony’s deaths there will be triggering suicide posts screaming how EPIX made them depressed. It’s a very consistent pattern. it is the people who call anyone that don’t like their ships or characters and have issue with them an ‘anti’, hate ‘sjws’ and yet reylos called the vader comic problematic. You see the issue?

the word anti is thrown around so much it has lost meaning.

No, it hasn’t. An anti is someone whose primary focus in a fandom environment is hating something, often to the point of putting it in their blog description (”Anne, 22. She/Their. TLJ is a stinky pile of crap!11!! Reylos don’t interact”) or basing their entire online identity on it. An anti will generally bond with other people over hating the same thing (as opposed to bonding over something they love). An anti will take pride in their hatred of the thing. An anti will associate their hatred of the thing with a hatred of similar things in other fandoms, and a “think of the children” purity culture attitude when it comes to fan creations, generally triggered by depictions of sexuality that they don’t consider wholesome or “safe” or morally uplifting. An anti will target, harass and bully people for simply liking the thing.

And here’s what an anti is NOT:

An anti is not someone who criticizes something they love, when they believe it deserves criticism. 

An anti isn’t someone who dislikes a character or dynamic, but doesn’t spend their time bashing it and remains respectful of their fans.

An anti isn’t someone who occasionally calls an incredibly popular and influential brand account out for an insensitive tweet. 

An anti isn’t someone who is upset that their favourite character, whom they’ve emotionally connected with for years, ended up brutally killed after a badly handled arc in a tv show or movie franchise. 

An anti isn’t someone who cares about the depiction of female fans, and women in general, in the media they consume.

An anti isn’t merely a disappointed fan.

Take fanbros, for example. Fanbros, for all they’re terrible for a million of reasons (and sometimes, even worse than antis), are NOT antis. Most of them have a genuine, long term loving relationship with the SW franchise, and their aggressive bashing of the sequel trilogy and its creators doesn’t come from an anti-like attitude, but from frustrated expectations, burning disappointment, confusion re: sw not being ONLY for them anymore (and often racism and misogyny).

Similarly, we’re not antis for simply demanding mainstream content creators like the Netflix account or the author of the Vader comic not to treat us with content or mockery. We’re not antis for caring about the fate of Ben Solo and a fictional dynamic that the sequel trilogy has deliberately made us fall in love with. We’re not antis for getting mad when we perceive an attack towards our community, which has been the target of harassment for years. You can disagree with the amount of shade we threw at the Netflix guy, but that incident still doesn’t make us antis, because we were the ones being thrown shade at IN THE FIRST PLACE, you know? (and no, the Netflix guy isn’t an anti either, obviously. But their tweet DID parrot a typical anti argument almost verbatim: “the fact that I spend 98% of my time screeching about reylo being abusive doesn’t mean I don’t care about RL issues sweetie”, and that’s what triggered our response).

And yes, if TROS doesn’t go our way, there WILL be reylos who will turn against the franchise, who will bitch and moan and hate and attack the creators and embarrass themselves and the whole fandom. I’m 200% certain they will. And that STILL won’t make them antis (but we will call them out nonetheless, if we’re decent)---it will make them disappointed fans. And there’s a huge difference.

It seems to me that your issue is that you don’t like reylos acting /irrational/ or aggressive, especially towards official creators or in front of the rest of the fandom, and I honestly can think of several understandable reasons why you would feel that way. But blurring the lines of what anti culture is won’t help anyone.