#cw scientific racism

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

This is a meta on Our Flag Means Death episode 5: The Best Revenge Is Dressing Well, Sir Godfrey Thornrose, The scene where he calls Ed a donkey, and so called "race science."

It has come to my attention that some of you apparently do not know what a phrenologist is.

*a note: I'm going to for the purposes of this assume that the guy played by Jeff Lorch is sir Godfrey Thornrose, I do not know this for certain but in my opinion even if he is not Thornrose the same principles still apply to him for reasons I will discuss in this meta.

So lets recap the scenes I want to touch on. At the beginning of episode 5 Stede is teaching Ed how to identify rich people cutlery like they're Barney Thompson and Vivian Ward in pretty woman. Stede bitches at Thornrose for not having enough spoons for Stede's liking. Thornrose responds "My apologies, I hadn't imagined we'd be hosting your kind."

Ed responds "My kind, what kind"

to which Godfrey responds "A rich donkey is still a donkey."

Ed then proceeds to scream at him and then orders Fang to skin him with a snail fork before throwing him overboard. To which Fang presumably responds by either skinning him with a normal skinning implement or forgoing the skinning step and just throwing him overboard, because who tf has time to skin a man with a snail fork.

I've seen some dogshit takes on this scene. I've seen it treated as evidence that Ed is exceptionally violent or abusive or has mood swings or anger issues or whatever bullshit. And I... Do Not Agree. You'll see why.

The next scene I want us to have in our back pocket is the first couple scenes with Gabriel and Antionette. When Gabriel and Antionette introduce themselves to Ed and Stede they reveal that Sir Godfrey Thornrose is a quote "Master Phrenologist." Stede is then expected to study Antionette's head. When he does he introduces his fake craft as "Phrenology, which is the study of the human head." He then takes a wild guess as to Antionette's heritage based on her skull lumps.

Content warning for like real old school racism ahead.

The reason Stede goes for the heritage is because Phrenology is a pseudoscience closely linked to other contemporary race science of the time. It was the idea that bumps on your head, thought to be caused by the pressure of the brain, could be used to identify your personality traits.

Phrenology gets really fucking racist, really fucking fast. Phrenology was used as proof that the white race was superior to other races, and as a justification for slavery and eugenics. Eugenics is the idea that you can improve society through breeding out "bad genes", which is almost universally popular among all types of racists, but the Nazis were big fans of it and there's a direct through line between the race scientists in the 1700s who were into phrenology and modern hate groups and neo nazis. I wanted to use an image here as an example of racist phrenology texts, but it's rough and I don't want to make a cut so I'm just going to link to the wordpress anthropology article I found the picture in, it's sourced and an alright place to start if you're into further reading.

With this information, I would like to use another example, that is relevant to the ethnicities in contention. A French physician who attracted huge crowds with his phrenology lectures, François-Joseph-Victor Broussais, once claimed that Maori people (as well as indigenous Australians) could never become civilized since he claimed they had no cerebral organ for producing great artists.

This is the context in which we need to understand the exchange between Ed and the French captain. I've seen some people claim it's about class and not about race, but Thornrose acknowledges Ed's wealth when he says a rich donkey is still a donkey. It doesn't matter to a man like Thornrose what Ed does or how rich he is or how well he can learn his fucking forks, he's still akin to an animal in this skull molesting freak's racist little mind. If a phrenologist, or even someone who's rubbing elbows with a phrenologist, calls a man of color a donkey they're clearly saying he's an uncivilized animal based on the shape of his face. That's how racists operate.

And Sir Godfrey Thornrose is not just any old racist, he's a racist spreading his ideology to other people, convincing them that people like Ed are inferior, that people like him should be subjugated by white people. He is clocking in for his shift at the racism factory creating more racists.

So basically what I'm saying is Ed should skin him, no quarter for genocidal maniacs. Basically I can tell you're either racist sympathetic or talking out of your ass if you think French captain was fucked up. It was antifascist direct action and I don't want to hear another word about it. I personally believe the only thing you can't come back from is death in terms of being a better person. I also believe that there are situations in which killing someone is more or less fine and you're never gonna catch me feeling bad for a fucking phrenologist when he compares an indigenous pirate to an animal and the pirate responds by doing what pirates do.

Killing Godfrey was based.

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

Ok, so since today’s entry brought up the concept of “criminal types,” it is a good time to talk about the 19th century and phrenology.

When characters like Van Helsing, Dr. Seward, Jonathan and Mina refer to phrenology or the resultant criminology, it is supposed to show us as readers that they are scientifically literate and read up on the latest ideas. However, as modern readers, it is impossible to escape the awareness of how racist this science is.

For context, the 19th century is when a lot of what we would consider the “social sciences” began to emerge as fields of study. There was a desire, which increased across the century, to understand people and societies on a scientific level. And - importantly- there was the scientific desire to schematize humanity. This is when you see anthropologists creating hierarchies of distinct races, and this was in service of justifying colonialism. If Europeans from imperial powers were “superior” by virtue of physical and anthropological factors, then their domination and exploitation of the rest of the world was “natural.” Though it should be noted that at the time scientists were discussing the superiority of “Nordic”/”Aryan” races, which did not include large parts of Europe

Within that, there is the emergence of phrenology as a facet of physical anthropology. The general idea of phrenology is that features of the face and bumps on the skull can be read to know the traits of the person. It results in a whole subset of science that is interested in using calipers to measure parts of people’s faces and deciding whether their features indicated good or bad things about them. It also included deciding what the “typical” features of a ethnic group indicated about their culture and personalities.

(Dr. Gustav Retzius about to measure the skull of a Sami man)

I am going to put the rest under the read more because of some of the racist imagery. 

So, from this there are whole charts about what things mean. And they privilege typically Northern European features as more trustworthy and intelligent and good.

For example, you can imagine what groups of people this is describing:

Hooded eyes and hooked noses being deceitful. I don’t think I need to explain in detail who that paints as inherently untrustworthy.

And here is a class around the turn of the century learning about what nose shapes mean:

And this strain of science led to linking facial features to criminality. Scientists, prominently Lombroso, in prisons measures the features of inmates and from that created theories about how you could see if someone was born to be a criminal.

These “criminal types” fell into several categories but on the whole they were considered to be underdeveloped and thus selfish and self-serving. When the characters are describing the Count as one of these criminal types, it is meant to tell us that he is smart in some ways but also single-minded, selfish, and deceitful. This makes him more like a demanding child in a grown man’s body, and thus makes him unfit to live in society.

And let me be clear here, part of the idea of schematizing criminality in this way was to eliminate criminality via eugenics. If criminal types could be identified, they could be stopped from reproducing their criminal genes.

And if you look at this chart, you can get a sense of how this runs right into racism again:

Take note again of the darker features, hooded eyes and pronounced hooked nose. 

It should not escape your notice that the Count’s features are described as “not good features” and that they are more like those of these criminal types. The insistence of describing faces so often is all built into this same pseudoscience.

We know now, after some truly horrific things coming from eugenics and racist anthropology, that this is all pseudoscience. You cannot read personality from facial features. While there is still so much about people being “born criminals” in criminology, it does not usually imply that just having racial features makes it clear that someone was born to murder or steal.

And I must reiterate: The book thinks this is cutting edge science. We need to exercise our own critical thinking when we read these things from a modern perspective.

[thelittlestspider]

i will take you up on your book rec offer right away actually! i would love to hear what your favourite (horror) books are :)

Dark Harvest by Norman Partridge - It's about this Midwest town where the people starve and lock up their sons a week before Halloween night, and they let them loose to chase this jack-o-lantern monster, in the hopes of getting out of town. I can't say more than that, because it'll spoil the plot twist.

This book is really fun for fall or Halloween, and it has a really neat way of narrating the book. I also really liked the plot twist, and I didn't see it coming.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson - It's about a woman who goes to a haunted house as part of a scientific study, and ends up possessed by the house.

At first, I had trouble reading Hill House because it started out very slow, but I picked up one of the audiobooks, and I'm so glad I persevered because it's so worth it. About halfway through, it picks up, and it's so good. Because we have the MC Nell, who is this repressed woman in a homoerotic love-hate relationship with Theo, one of the other participants in the study, then we have Nell's weird thing with Hill House and it warping and possessing her. Ugh.

The Bright Lands by John Fram - (cw: sexual assault, murder. There's probably more, but it's been a bit since I read it.) It's about this guy named Joel who comes back to his hometown after his brother dies mysteriously, and he confronts his traumatic past while uncovering a town conspiracy.

This book was wild. I think I devoured in like a day because I was obsessed with it. It's this insane book based in Texas where like a demon or a monster is feeding on the evil things this group of men is doing to the boys in the town.

Fen by Daisy Johnson - Fen is a bunch of short stories set in the fictional town of Fen, which is a weird town set somewhere I think in the UK? Sorry, it's been a bit lol.

If you like small towns that are just fucked up, you'll like this book. I actually haven't read all of this book, but I love it. It has a house that is obsessed with the girl that lives in it and devours her girlfriend. It has a group of women who eat men.

Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado - This is another short story collection. There's a lot happening in this book lol.

I remember there was this insane sequence that was basically horror fanfic of law and order svu, and it was amazing.

Tender is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica - (cw: cannibalism, sexual assault, dehumanization, racism. If there's a cw, this book probably has it.) So it's based in a world where supposedly the animals have become infected with a disease that makes them off limits to people, and the world resorts to cannibalism. The mc is a guy that works in a meat factory where they butcher humans raised as cattle.

This is a really fucked up book, but it's so good. If you like books where everyone is horrible, and nothing good happens, you'll like this book. It was nauseating, and I mean that in the best way possible.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[cws: psychiatric abuse, torture, homophobia, ableism, sanism, racism, pictures of taxidermy. boy this show is a lot sometimes lmfao]

-

so something @thecottageinthedark noticed recently that i'm still fucked up about is that pericles' cage in the asylum isn't actually a bird cage.

it's a bell jar.

for those who don't know what a bell jar is, it's a type of taxidermy display for preserving delicate specimens, most often birds. it's easy for their feathers to get dusty or disintegrate over time if they're left out in the open; a bell jar not only keeps off dirt and keeps people from touching them, but it's made to create a vacuum inside to keep everything where it is.

another layer to this reference is that the book The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath, is a retelling of her own experiences with mental illness and the attempts made to treat it at the time. notably, one of the major themes of the book is psychiatric abuse.

pericles is also not only a gay man forcefully committed to an asylum in what is most likely intended to be the 70s, but a very obvious and already horribly handled fantasy metaphor for both physically disabled people and POC. (in particular the talking animals' role in the worldbuilding heavily mirrors Black americans irl, which holy shit there is so much to unpack there all by itself. there is So Much)

(fun little bonus on the side: he's kept in a cell with extremely bright blue/white light 24/7, at an angle where it'd be even more difficult to block it out than if it were overhead. this would make it impossible to get any decent fucking sleep, which is widely recognized as one of the worst forms of torture to exist. they did this to him for 20 years straight.)

so, to recap: gay man and analogue for disabled people/POC, who is also portrayed as an ~evil crazy malicious psychopath,~ is kept in not only a display case for scientific specimens, but one specifically made--in-universe and out--to recreate something that is done to his demographic as a metaphorical disabled person/POC.

and not only that, and not only do people talk about him--in front of him, like he's not even there--as a specimen while gawking at him in this position, but he is being displayed like the stuffed and mounted corpse of a disabled person/POC.

he is said to belong on that display for 'the rest of his miserable [disabled/POC] life.' no one disagrees with this. he's painted as smugly bullying the violent abusive guard. in general he's portrayed as Scary and Evil Now for having been in this situation. and when he escapes, it kicks off what end up being the most heavy-duty problems for the protagonists, which result in the Bad Ending for the nibiru timeline; if he had stayed there, continued to be objectified and tortured with homophobic/racist/ableist violence for the rest of his life, the timeline almost certainly wouldn't have been doomed.

and they used a real person's autobiography about their experiences with psychiatric abuse for this. and to position them in the role of someone it should have not only happened to, but been even more horrifically dehumanizing and cruel.

yeah. i..... yeah.

the creators of this show are genuinely really good at putting together layered references like this, some more obscure than others, which are rewarding to discover and add depth when you do, and it is a crying fucking shame that they like to use it for shit like this. god damn lmao

[arcann]

1, 3, 9, 10 for choose violence

the character everyone gets wrong

Kaneeka is not Sybil's little puppet, the magical tea manipulation clearly started days ago if not that very same Thursday. She's bold and very much guided by scientific knowledge. She left for college and while she does diligently cares for the store, she has left it alone at times by her own choice. She fights with other people like Tabitha and the pastor. We see her fight her mom of Wednesday and with the right dialogue you can make Kaneeka start to realize that something is wrong while you try to escape to the clinic and Sybil catches you. Why does everyone make it so that all Kaneeka is, everyone she hates and loves, her interests and hobbies were made by Sybil.

its the racism.

9. worst part of canon

y'shtola's attitude change beginning with shadowbringers. some switch got flipped in the square enix's team after a realm reborn that made them realize she could be fanboy fuel for the gamer dudebros so they decided her pajamas, miner outfit and personality where she cared deeply about the beast tribes and defending them loudly and openly needed to go and now alisaie was the loud defender of others while y'shtola is just. smart. in a very "this plan doesn't make sense but we're the heroes so we're doing it" smart. deux ex smartness.

she's super annoyed about matoya all the time. also her (non) blindness. what's up with that.

10. worst part of fanon

people who think scarlet hollow is a romance visual novel and not a horror visual novel. enough said.

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

left this one for last bc cw for racism and black face

always thinking about the person with a swtor oc named blakk (yes two k's, as if the third one would be too in the nose or something) who was a literal white man doing black face and when the person got called out instead of confronting their issues they decided to give a fucking long and insane explanation of how the oc could be like that because he was a strange and very unknown type of humanoid alien who could change their skintones and that was somehow... good enough for them??? complete lack of acknowledgement and even worse, thinking star wars' racism would cover their own. it was absolutely delusional. the oc's face claim was fucking armie hammer of all people.

this was about five years ago but last i heard that person is still out there, black face oc and all. learned absolutely nothing from all that clowning

[twisted-tales-told]

Thank you @boydykepdf for the (forced) tag I totally did not hold them at gun point I promise

A book that pleasantly surprised you: The Book Of Dreams by Nina George. She was a new author and the plot seemed a bit wishy washy but the way it explores the unconscious and experience of those within a coma vs those outside of it was SO interesting and complex. She also explores neurodivergence in a very interesting way with one of the characters having synesthesia. Considering my girl Nina George dropped out of school incredibly young this book is very scientific in it’s exploration and understanding of how the brain works.

A book that disappointed you: I was really let down by an autobiographical graphic novel called Blankets by Craig Thomson. It starts off so wonderfully exploring his relationship with his younger brothers, but then the majority of the book is really not about that and is about a fling he had with a girl for two weeks, and I just feel like he was really scared of exploring his familial relationships in it. Which. I guess valid but I felt disappointed for him because of it.

Current read: *cw for racism* I’m all over the place. I just finished the first poppy war books but I don’t have the next ones yet so on paper I’m reading a book called Gutter Child by Jael Richardson which is a Black Dystopia, I would describe it. She explores the history of racism within this created dystopian world where every black child is born with an acquired “debt” and they have to work to pay it off. We follow a young child named Elimina who is being admitted to one of these training schools to prepare her for a life of work and paying off her debt. It’s incredibly heartbreaking and well written, I really recommend it (mind the content warnings)

On iBooks im reading The Captive Prince! It’s a trilogy im only on chapter 3 but the world is fascinating but definitely not for the faint of heart.

Books on TBR: so many but mostly ones I’ve told my friends I’m going to read. Both Kerry and Soph have recced me books that seem so fucking interesting I must devour them! Also I want to reread annihilation because I didn’t read it as thoroughly as I wanted. I only had like 3 hours to be fair.

An author you’re loving: Neil gaiman. I just will read anything he writes forever. Every single one. All of them. Also if M.L Rio ever writes again I will be picking it up. Also R.F Kuang, I will be reading yellowface as soon as I can. I also want to read anything Jael Richardson writes in the future.

Rec a book to the person who tagged you: Rae I’m reading u the book: balzac and the little chinese seamstress. It takes place in a work camp in the 1970s in china and follows two boys who have been exiled from the capital and find this suitcase of illegal translated books. The narrator is kinda a 3rd wheel between his friend and the girl he likes, who is a seamstress. The book kinda feels like it’s wandering around a lot as you read it but I really love the ending even if it is a bit predictable.

It just feels like these two hopeless boys find something that is so priceless in this fucking horrible situation.

Tagging: @messrsage @sophsicle (do ur school readings I dare u) @euphorial-docx @motswolo

[mishkwaagegekwereads]

All the Flowers Kneeling Review

CW: sexual assault, imperialism, racism, rape, sexual content, transphobia, violence, trauma

This collection of poetry by Paul Tran left me speechless. They employ a great variety of styles throughout the collection that keeps the reader engaged and shows they are truly a master of their art. Throughout the collection Tran returns to an on-going multi-part poem “ Scheherazade/Scheherazade” which uses the story of 1001 Nights (Arabian Nights) to show the trauma of imperialism and violence towards women. Despite there being notes in the back of the book about this story, I did find myself doing a bit more research into it so I could understand the poems better. 

My 2 favorite entries in this collection were “Scientific Method” and “The Santa Anna.” Both dealt with topics of sexual assault, growth, and healing, as well as transitioning. Below are my favorite lines from these two poems. 

“Beware of me. I who survived.” -”Scientific Method” line 22

“I want to say what happened to me. I want a say in what happens to me.” - “The Santa Anna” page 72, lines 29-32

Overall I loved this collection, although I found I often needed to put it down for an emotions break, as many of the topics covered are triggering for me. Tran covers these topics with grace and respect, so I was still able to finish each poem, I would just advise giving yourself a little extra time with this one. 

4/5 stars

[foulapricotartisanduck]

Be more careful in this area.....

They try to set you up with that government shit To hear voices to stay away from the area and/or make you flare up to get out of character As a way of framing you so those authorities can play in their favor they come walking by from time to time Looking for something to snitch on They fucking racist like the authorities will be waiting to play along with it off of predictions.......👮‍♀️😕🚔🫤👈👈👀👀🚶‍♂️

They be trying to frame people.....

Anywhere along the water and parks same shit

They try to do it so light it seems natural without that government sh😜tt With that pulling Thing they do now Most of the time Thinking they being slick so when checking for sleepwalk there's no sleepwalking In the Government system You know when you get those feels in your body that come from that government shit...😜😜😯

😛😶‍🌫️😯👉Police officers👮‍♀️ do it a lot off of prediction of incidents on encounter To get you out of character To get a charge on you 👉Which become a government setup from their behalf that they downplay a lot.. You know it when your body changes amongst the incident to whatever percentage.....🤔

And it's rumored they chased the (🏃‍♂️souls🏃‍♀️)👀 of people who passed through that area Taunting the mind and body of the person they are doing it too Targeting them that scientifically... That's how Deep the racism is/ hate They have for the person they're going to......🤔🫢

They fu😜king racist They say it in voices Like when you go to those stores in the township do off of prediction.....

All premeditated with that government sh🖕t....

CW Daily Briefings!😁👍

[st-just]

from what youve managed to gleam of my tastes from following me all these years, would you say id enjoy cormorant?

hmmm....probably? But like 60/40 or 70/30 probably.

Or, like, fairly confident you'd like the first book, but even odds you give up on the second? (First one works pretty well as a stand-alone, though?)

[lichenaday]

The Reprehensible Racism and Ableism of Ernst Haeckel

So I have been avoiding this topic for quite some time even though it has been pressing on me. I believe that lichenaday should be all about the joys of lichens! But recently I have seen a resurgence of fascination with the illustrations of Ernst Haeckle, and I think it is important that people be informed on the darker side of science history to be more aware of where it still exists in the present. So if you prefer to skip this topic because you don’t have the emotional energy for it, go right ahead. I don’t blame you.  CW/TW: Racism, ableism, eugenics, abuse of power, violence against infants, etc.

Ernst Haeckel (1834-1919) was a German naturalist, zoologist, anatomist, artist, and unfortunately, eugenicist. You may have seen some of Ernst Haeckel’s beautiful illustrations floating around the internet. Most of them are from his book Kunstformen der Natur (1904) (Art forms of Nature):

He is relevant to this blog for his contributions to the field of lichenology. 

I myself have relogged the above image to this page before. 

I have seen a lot of folks talking about buying these prints, getting tattoos based off them, and buying his books. But before you do that, you should know:  ERNST HAECKEL WAS A SOCIAL DARWINST, ABLEIST, RACIST, AND EUGENESIST! 

He believed in creating committees in charge of weeding out and killing off the undesirables of society in order to perfect humanity. Some of these ideals related to the right to euthenasia for individuals suffering with terminal illness, but these beliefs went well beyond that. An actual quote from his book Die Lebenswunder (1904) (The Wonders of Life): 

“What good does it do to humanity to maintain artificially and rear the thousands of cripples, deaf- mutes, idiots, etc., who are born every year with an hereditary burden of incurable disease? Is it not better and more rational to cut oil from the first this unavoidable misery which their poor lives will bring to themselves and their families?”

And if you want to argue, “OK, but he was a product of his time, this belief was not uncommon,” he says in his own words that this viewpoint “oppose[s] the current prejudices and traditional beliefs” of his time. He is trying to persuade the masses to think like this, and received push back in his own time for not just holding, but spreading and ADVOCATING FOR these beliefs.  

Along with his rampant ableism, he was also a practitioner of scientific racism (using shoddy scientific “evidence” to justify the superiority of certain races above others). He believed and CIRCULATED THE BELIEF that the inferior races would die out, and the “highly developed and perfect races” would thrive. Gross. Just one actual quote from a myriad of horribleness from his book Natürliche Schöpfungsgeschichte (1868, Vol. 2 1914) (The History of Creation):

“At the lowest stage of human mental development are the Australians, some tribes of the Polynesians, and the Bushmen, Hottentots, and some of the Negro tribes. Language, the chief characteristic of genuine men, has with them remained at the lowest stage of development, and hence also their formation of ideas has remained at a low stage . . . . All attempts to introduce civilization among these, and many of the other tribes of the lowest human species, have hitherto been of no avail; it is impossible to implant human culture where the requisite soil, namely, the perfecting of the brain, is wanting.”

Not only are these theories WILDLY scientifically inaccurate, but also morally and socially reprehensible. And they are as much a part of his cannon as his beloved illustrations. Ernst Haeckle wanted these ideals spread just as much (if not more) than his pretty little drawings. 

Why does it matter? Why can’t we just appreciate his pretty drawings and move on? Because, people STILL BEILEVE AND SITE THIS SHIT. The contribution of these and similar beliefs are still circulated among modern eugenicists and Nazis and social Darwinists. And I figure there are other people out there like me, who when they learn about all this, feel less inclined to praise his art. I refuse to let his pictures go by without informing folks who maybe don’t want to celebrate a man who spread such horrendous false science, and like, just straight up pure evil. 

Sorry, I know this is barely lichen adjacent. But I am a scientist attending graduate school in Germany, where I became aware of his infamy. And I hate bad science--especially bad science used to oppress others. It is an affront to the profession, and I believe it is our job as scientists to alert others to the existence of bad science and bad scientists, be they modern or historical. 

[joy-haver]

On Science, Denialism, and Community

These content warnings apply to 1 specific section, which is marked.

Cw colonialism, white supremacy, ableism, racism, eugenics.

✨✨✨information and trust ✨✨✨

I keep seeing people, who all have otherwise very thought out belief systems, saying things like “trust science” and “we wouldn’t have all these problems if people had better critical thinking skills” and “people just need to listen to the research.”

If you agree with one of those statements, I want you to really think it through for a minute.

Do you make all of your decisions based on research? Do you get all of your information from peer reviewed journals? If so, what are your standards for what you consider good research? Do you rerun all the numbers to make sure they didn’t make any mistakes? Do you check all the citations that the article your reading relies on and make sure that each of those is up to your standards? What about the citations of those articles? How do you know that the numbers they have you are true? How do you know the peer reviewers weren’t paid by the same company, or the same industry? How do you know for sure that there aren’t 100 studies that say the exact opposite thing that never saw the light of day because no one would publish them?

And like, of course you don’t do those things. You can’t answer all those questions. It’s literally impossible to always act on the best information available and always check everything. At some point, you are relying on trust. It’s just a question of how much trust, and who you are trusting.

Science denialism is one thing that can happen when that trust is broken. And, as I’ll describe bellow, that trust will be broken for anyone whose paying attention

✨✨✨Science as an institution ✨✨✨

I think it’s important to remember that the vast majority of what this society has called “science” over the years had been little more than propaganda pieces to justify colonialism, eugenics, and white supremacy. Anyone whose ever worked with data can show you how to manipulate it. But you don’t even need to manipulate it on purpose to do bad science. Hell, for most of the research that happens in this country, the grant selection process manipulates the data on its own. You can make science justify almost anything. The scientific method is okay as a framework, but it is not perfect. And the institutions that exist around it are very good at using the imperfections of the method to create their own propaganda. And they have a nice little shield of science to hide it behind.

But really, take a look around you. The scientific method has brought us many good results, but the idea of science has also justified the worlds worst atrocities. All social harms that exist today exist, in part, becuase they were given scientific justifications. Because at the end of the day, science will tell you whatever you want it to. Information that pushes back may come into existence sometimes, but it will be ignored unless it can be used to someone’s advantage.

[content warnings start here]

Even so called “good science” that genuinely is an attempt at finding truth and understanding reality is not morally neutral. Every advancement has its uses. Advancements in plastics might mean more plastic is made. Advancements in mathematics means more bombs. Advancements in psychology are used to propagandize you. Advancements in medicine are used to create more effective eugenics. Sure, sometimes advancements may help you a little. But the always help power maintain itself more. And sure, sometime s good science that isn’t useful to the system slips thru the cracks, but they will find a way to reincorporate it into the matchine.

And if that’s what the good science does, what about the bad science?

The sterilization and murder of disabled people, of black people, of immigrants, of indigenous people STILL happens in the name of science, separating indigenous people from thier families was done in the name of science. All of the fatshaming that we’ve propagated around the globe has been done in the name of science, and that has a death toll too. Capitalism is justified in the name of science. Incarceration is justified in the name of science. State power is justified in the name of science. Colonizing countries, destroying indigenous food ways, forcing people into sweatshops is done in the name of science.

The murder machine that is the USA relies on science, The propaganda machine that keeps people believing in it relies on science.

[content warnings end here]

And if you’ve ever tried to talk someone out of a belief that’s based in bad science, even committed and nuanced researchers, even using good data, most of them won’t change their minds. How could they? Because what’s the alternative? Aren’t the only two options to be committed to science or to deny it entirely?

✨✨✨Denial ✨✨✨

I think the reason we see so much total science denialism is because people start down the right track. They start to realize that a lot of what they were taught in the name of science is bullshit, and they are correct. You see this a lot with disabled people. Someone will realize, thru personal experiences, that doctors don’t know shit and are making most of it up as they go, and that even the research they do have is usually misguided or flat out wrong. And then they’ll say fuck it, I guess everything they say is a lie. And that’s where you get science denialism.

The problem doesn’t start with the denialists. It starts with the institution. And the more you tell people to just “trust the institution”, the more they will understand that you have no idea what you are talking about. You will push them further into their belief, because you are denying the existence of the very real problems they are pointing out.

But you know who is willing to listen? You know who is willing to understand them, and to teach them even more things that are “wrong”? The climate change deniers. The antivaxers. The TERFs. They are willing to soothe the part of someone that feels hurt, and betrayed, and lied to. They are willing to take that anger and give it a direction. They are willing to say “your right, and I’m sorry. Here’s what we can do about it”.

The only reason I didn’t go down that same path of denial is because I have a lot of free time to find and read academic studies, and I have enough training to understand most of what I read, or at least to know how to find information to understand. And also because I have a lovely community around me. But most people can’t do the research I’ve done, and even if they could, they wouldn’t have the time, and even if they did, no one person can be fully informed on every topic. And they shouldn’t have to be. But we literally cannot trust a single one of these institutions. Science has just as much blood on its hands as the church, and it’s trying it’s best to outpace it. Science is made of lies and propaganda. Can you really fault people for overcorrecting and going full denialist?

As long as we treat it as tho the problem is the denialists, we’ll just be creating the circumstances for more denialism.

✨✨✨ Community ✨✨✨

Remember what I said about trust? About how, at some point, you have to trust someone. Well, here’s the good news. You can actively choose who that will be. This is called community building.

For this to work, you have to be committed to reality. You can’t believe that things just happen, you have to understand that everything is causal, and you have to understand the causes of everything. You must be committed to making your worldview as consistent as possible, and you must be willing to foster that in other people.

Now, it’s not easy. And to do a good job of it, you have to have already interrogated a lot of your beliefs. You have to have a strong system of values and standards that you hold yourself and others to.

But if you have that, you can start to build communities of people you trust. You can split up some of the labor of coming up with ideas and unlearning, and then you can share it with each other. Now, you still have to be critical, even (especially) of the people you trust. You still have to put in work. But doing it as a community means that you won’t have to do so much work. You can share the load of unlearning and relearning. And you can use some of the information science gave you, but you have to verify it, and really think it through.

And when someone comes to you and tells you something, listen to the truth of it. Even if they are lying to you, listen for how they got to the point where they feel that they need to. Even if they are factually wrong, listen for the truth of the experiences that made them believe that. And comfort that part of them. Affirm their pain, affirm their mistrust, and don’t be angry with them. Instead, point them down a path that’s more grounded in reality, and introduce them to community.

✨✨✨closing statement✨✨✨

So many anarchists and likeminded folks realize that we must destroy institutions of power, and that the only way to do that is through community building. Science, heck, even Knowledge itself, is an institution. And of all the institutions we need to destroy and remake, it’s one of the most important. Because the institutions that we can’t live without, the ones that provide the most important services, are the institutions we must replace first. Our systems for food, housing, socializing, conflict resolution, and of course, our systems for making meaning, all need to be replaced before the old ones can be destroyed.

Revolution is not the act of chopping down the Great Tree of Power. Revolution is the act of growing a forest around it, choking it to death by removing its access to light and nutrients, until it is nothing but rot to feed our soil.

[Edit: I want to say that i don’t think I did a perfect job writhing this, and I am very very thankful for any critiques. I think I make have expressed myself only about 65% of how I would like to. I appreciate any add-ins or critiques or thoughts about it]

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

The Construct of Time, Chapter 06

Pairing: HotchReid

Written For: The HotchReid Valentine’s Day Trope Challenge, Trope Assignments = Historical AU, Time Travel

Summary: The year is 1924, half a decade after the first World War, and a few years before the Great Depression would devastate the nation. It is a time of contradiction: the modernist uprising of science and innovation, met with a traditionalist, fearful desire to cling to the past in a fast-evolving, urbanist society. And on this morning in Washington D.C. an unmarked package is left outside the office of Aaron ‘Hotch’ Hotchner, P.I., with a note simply telling him to find the rest, and a substantial price tag attached. What he finds in this package is something he has never seen before, hundreds of years old, and he barely knows where to start trying to find more like it. Ultimately he is pointed towards someone that may just have a clue what to do with his charge: a Classics Historian working in the basements of the Smithsonian, Dr. Spencer Reid. Together, what they discover sends them on a break-neck chase across the city, searching for a mysterious collection of powerful artifacts, and the people that are trying to sell them. Forever changing everything they know about the world, the people in it, truth, lies, love, and the fragile construct of time.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (to be determined)

Chapter CW/notes: More flirting, more character introductions, more historical and scientific inaccuracies I’m sure. This fic is so tame in comparison to my others xD and I like blatantly ignore/barely hint at period-typical racism, homophobia, and sexism in this chapter. It’s my fic I can do what I want. My characters are decent human beings in the 1920′s, I’m sure it happened. The action is picking up! Cool stuff coming up soon! No beta and probably sporting some mistakes, I apologize, but thank you for reading anyway. 💕

Word Count: 4852

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

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Chapter 06: Community Outreach

–

.

The bell above the door chimes soft and delicate as Spencer and Hotch enter a carpentry shop in one of the older corners of town. It's an area the Private Detective hasn't ever really ventured into, he had no reason before today, and is pleasantly surprised at the bustle of life along the brick-house lined streets. The shop Spencer has led them to is filled to the brim with furniture and antiques alike. Some in desperate need of repair, some shining like new although they boast the same age as the buildings themselves. And the craftsmanship, it's gorgeous – Hotch is so distracted by the towering items creating a labyrinth of walkways that he nearly loses Spencer once inside the door. Thank God he's as tall as he is and easy to spot.

"Well, well – do my eyes deceive me? Has the great scholar finally left his cave of solitude to see what life is like in the daylight?" A deep, pleasant baritone echoed from the back of the shop, right where Hotch could spot Spencer heading towards. Behind a long work counter was a black man with a blindingly handsome smile, clean shaven from the top of his head to his chin save for some very expressive eyebrows that conveyed his jest in the most charming way. Square-jawed and broad shouldered, he leaned over the counter to greet Spencer who was smiling just the same. Ducking his head at the other man's teasing. 

"With friends like you it's a wonder I ever leave the castle basement," Spencer quips back, and the man feigns a wound as if shot through the chest. Dramatic and even bringing a lighter smile to twitch at Hotch's lips. But it was easy to hold back, as a darker jealous emotion hangs heavy in his stomach at the easy interaction. Curiosity his only saving grace. 

"That hurts, pretty boy, that hurts!" the man laughs as he straightens back up, just as smoothly clearing up some of the space on his work bench. "So what brings you here during normal folks' waking hours?" His warm, dark eyes slide to Hotch as the man sidles up to Spencer – indicating he wasn't a lurking customer. They came together. Just in case this mysterious friend had missed that little detail. "And who's the spook?" 

Hotch does quirk a small smile at that. Fair enough, he supposed. He did look a little intimidating for midday and in this part of town. 

Spencer turns to Hotch, revealing just how much his face had indeed lightened at the interaction, and the soft glow of it is enough to ease the warring apprehension in his chest. "This is P.I. Aaron Hotchner, I'm assisting him in a case he's investigating."

"Hmph, you sure you don't mean Agent Hotchner?" the other man says in a slightly more serious jest, giving Hotch a very thorough once-over as he sizes him up. "Looks like a Fed if I've ever seen one."

"No," Hotch answers, inviting himself into the conversation. "I work for myself and no one else."

"I can respect that," the man hums, and then extends his hand after having it cleared of wood polish and saw dust. "Derek Morgan."

"Sergeant Derek Morgan," Spencer corrects, earning him a cheeky smile in return. Their friendship is easy, well-honed, and they are still a surprising pair but Hotch maintains a polite demeanor as he observes them. But Spencer turns directly to Hotch, the companionable air dissipating back into the meat of what they are doing there. "We met through a military function at the Smithsonian a couple years ago. He's one of the best problem solvers I know. Mechanics, architecture, social situations, mathematics – even the ancient water heater in the Smithsonian basement."

"Oh you flatter me, but that is how you got me to fix that rickety old hunk of junk to start with," Srgt. Morgan laughs under his breath, that wide smile back on his face. "Which means you need something from me. Again." 

"Consider yourself flattered, then. How often do I ask you for help?" 

"Is it a day ending in Y already?" Srgt. Morgan ponders. Spencer hits him with a book that he magically conjured from his satchel. 

"Academic help, you menace," he scolds, then hands over the worn, cloth-bound novel. "Here, I found this in a shipment from Venice. Pretty sure it's on your wish list to Santa Claus." 

"Yes, oh you sticky-fingered thief you are so good to me," the other man cackles in delight, flipping through the pages of what looks like an old architecture tome completely hand-written in Italian. "One of these days you're going to get in trouble for being my own personal Robin Hood." 

"Stop, you're going to give Aaron the wrong idea about me," Spencer bemoans, turning to Hotch and stage whispering. "It's a loan, he returns them to the museum when he's done with them. I just like sharing knowledge with those who appreciate it."

"Oh I'm going to appreciate the heck out of this beauty," Srgt. Morgan grins nearly salaciously and Spencer gags on air.

"Stop, you are so embarrassing." 

"This is how you ask for favors? Bribery and insults?" he teases further, and Hotch is now fully chuckling under his breath. They bicker like he and his brother Sean used to, when they were still on speaking terms. 

"It seems to be the only language you speak," Spencer shoots back. "Now do you want to hear what I have for you, or should I take my bribes elsewhere?" 

"No, no, don't get in a twist. You know I'm always happy to help the sweetest string bean on the block. Whatcha got for me?" 

Spencer has no hesitation sharing the puzzle box with his friend, immediately pulling it from his satchel and delicately placing it on the man's workbench. Opening its casing and removing the lightweight puzzle within with care. Sergeant Morgan goes quiet, curious, professionally so, and begins to look the object over expertly. Feather-light touches as he turns it in many directions, as he mulls the puzzle over between his work-rough hands. 

"Nice grain, soft wood, chestnut: better for carving. Popular in Europe, especially Italy," he says as if mentioning the weather. "Yep, Italian renaissance is my guess. But the mechanics are genius. It's almost like a Spanish lockbox, but –" he doesn't open the box, but manages to move a few of the panels. The box twisting and clicking as he maneuvers them. It was more than Hotch could have done when he first inspected the box. "Fascinating." 

"We're worried it houses some kind of explosive or booby trap," Spencer explains, worrying his hands in front of him like he wants to snatch the puzzle back before Srgt. Morgan accidentally gets too careless with it. 

"You see how large these turning mechanisms are? And the turn radius?" Srgt. Morgan demonstrates as he speaks, the dials encompassing the entire box and moving whole facets at a time. The man shakes his head at their question. "The majority of the box is dedicated to the puzzle's mechanics, so it's not going to leave room for much else. No explosive is that small, even loose gunpowder wouldn't do much damage without something to light a spark." It's an assurance that gives both Hotch and Spencer relief, Spencer's more plain on his face. 

"Could one of the sides turning make a spark?" Hotch questions.

"Sure, if the metal could somehow be exposed to the air, I suppose. But I've never heard of anything like that, and this thing doesn't weigh enough to contain the metal pieces inside it." 

"How do you know all this?" Call it a detriment of his profession, but Hotch is very much suspicious over anyone that conveniently falls into his lap or speaks too confidently out of the blue. 

"I was a landmine and explosives expert in the service," Srgt. Morgan says. Not taking offense, outwardly, but being questioned about his qualifications did not appear to be a favorite pastime of his. Hotch is sure the man has had his fair share, out there in the world. "I know a thing or two."

"I'd expect a landmine expert to be missing a few limbs, or fingers," Hotch says, amicable as he can manage, deftly changing his tone to straddle the line of professional and companionable. His questioning weren't personal, after all, and this was a close friend of Spencer's. A social call required a different approach to a business related one. "Or have at least some battle scars."

"Well not only was I good at what I did, I made no limb-threatening mistakes – and was very lucky when I almost did." He flashes a bright, charming smile as he plays into Hotch's offered olive branch. "Word of advice? A good bomb expert still has all his fingers and toes." 

"I'll keep that in mind."

"So now that you aren't afraid to breathe on it wrong," Srgt. Morgan teases, holding up the box between the two men as he leans on the workbench. "You mind telling me what kind of case a P.I. gets caught up in that deals with something like this? Whatever this is?" 

"This," Spencer interrupts, immediately taking back the delicate puzzle box. He'd reached his limit of restraint, apparently. "Is a very old piece of very important history–"

"I gathered as much."

" –which should be handled carefully. Instead of waved around like a brick." Spencer scowls at him, only making Srgt. Morgan laugh, and Hotch allows himself a much more subtle smile all his own. 

"You scold like my grandmama," Morgan teases.

"And if I had a wooden spoon I'd smack you with one like her, too," Spencer snaps.

"At least you aren't hitting me with your purse."

"It's a satchel!" 

"Boys," Hotch drones, then smirks at his slip up. "Gentleman. Let's get back on task, shall we?" Sergeant Morgan straightens back up, smirking in victory, and Spencer flushes pink at Hotch's mild reprimand. "So we've determined the box isn't a weapon, or dangerous, per your expertise." He nods to the other man, who tilts his head and eyes him like he can't tell if he's being chastised or not. "Sp- Dr. Reid values your opinion, and trusts you, and I trust him." There's layers to those words, a meaning behind them that has the good sergeant narrowing his gaze to a much more closed off and calculating look. Hotch showed a few too many of his cards there. Oops. "Maybe you can help us with another part of the case? You seem familiar with the antique and auction business," Hotch points out, gesturing to the establishment surrounding them. 

"This is my family's store," Morgan explains. "My pops passed, but my Ma and sisters run it very well. They know their furniture. A lot of our pieces end up at Christie's and Southerby's across the pond. I'm just learning the ropes, after being in the service so long." 

"Please," Spencer chides. "He's too modest. The Morgan family does more restorations in the city with more accuracy than anyone else I've encountered. He's been studying the craft like he's attending medical school." 

"Oh, I was mistaken. Flattery will get you everywhere, pretty boy," Srgt. Morgan grins.

"So, what's the chance you've heard of a private auction that would have something like this up for bid?" Hotch questions, nodding to the puzzle box.

"Something like that? Not anywhere in my market, or adjacent ones, and I'm known to wander into the wrong room most of the time," Morgan says, feigning bashful. "Call me a snoop. And I would have noticed something like that on the block." 

He turns and gives Spencer a look just this side of jest.

"You know who you need to talk to about secret auction meetings, right?" 

Spencer is quiet, drawing Hotch's attention as well.

"Yes," he admits, slowly. "But – I didn't want to get her in trouble." Morgan outright laughs at him at that.

"Oh no, she'll be tickled pink. And she'll get a kick out of your G-man." 

Hotch can't help the firm scowl. He has a reputation, after all.

"Not FBI." 

"Whatever you say man." Morgan says, his hands raised in feigned surrender. 

Spencer packs up the puzzle box into his satchel with care, a warm smile to his friend (and possibly at Hotch's expense). "Thank you for your help. I feel much safer knowing this won't blow up a city block while we're walking down it."

"Anytime, pretty boy," Sergeant Morgan smiles, bright and blinding and quickly shifting to something far more mischievous as they turn to leave the shop. "Give my baby girl a kiss for me."

Spencer trips over thin air, sputtering in protest. 

"I will do no such thing!"

He would have slammed the door if Hotch wasn't the one holding it open for him, making the older man chuckle and Srgt. Morgan's deep baritone laughter follow them into the midday sun.

 .

—

 .

Their venture across the city takes them this time to a quiet corporate office building just on the line of Capitol Hill, large enough to house more than one enterprise – but Hotch is surprised to discover is entirely owned by the telephone operating service. Spencer seems to know his way around, as he does in every building they enter, Hotch notices, so the men don't bother with the line at reception or even the directory. They weave through hallways and stairwells that all look the same (the academy aesthetic had been starting to grow on him) until finally spilling into a vast room filled with rows and rows of switchboards. Men and women every six feet sporting headsets and speaking pieces and dozens of wires and connector cables. All talking. All moving. It's busy and organized and absolute chaos – the layout alone feels overwhelming to take in. Spencer walks speedily through it, and Hotch doesn't blame him one bit. The historian only speaks to a floor manager, quietly to the point Hotch can barely hear them, for a moment before they are directed to a set of elevators that don't access the rest of the building.

They only drop to the basement levels. Again.

"What is it about basement offices?" Hotch questions once the doors close, the comfortable muffled quiet pressing in around them.

"No one can sneak in through a window," Spencer says, shrugging and offering a small quirk of a smile. It warms Hotch more than sunshine ever could. 

 .

In a private room on sub-basement level three, a single occupant takes over a space the size of an entire row in the operation center above. The walls are adorned in the brightest colors, cabinets and desktop areas blanketed in gleaming figurines, crocheted knitting arrangements, ornate glassware, dolls and toys alike – and at the center of it all sits a woman just as vibrant. With bouncing golden curls, voluptuous heavy curves decked out in a dress fit for 5th avenue, red lipstick and a gorgeously placed beauty mark revealed when she spins to look at them. Holding up a manicured finger, indicating to stay quiet as they entered. 

"Yes sir. Thank you kindly," she chirps pleasant and sweet into her mouthpiece, and with a flick of her wrist, jewelry chiming, hands moving fast and without a second glance to her movements she weaves phone lines and flips switches with ease. Smiling brightly back into the phone piece a mere moment later. "Samson? Let the congressman know I have the Italian ambassador on the line." They disconnect before Hotch can blink in surprise. "You're welcome," she chides to no one, spinning on her stool and adjusting her skirts to address them. Eyes finally focusing on –"

"Oh, as I live and breathe! Dr. Spencer Reid! Ah, what a pleasant surprise." And she's up, across the room, kissing his cheeks adoringly, shamelessly leaving behind red smudges of rouge and lipstick. "That's how they do it in Paríe."

"How affectionate," Spencer murmurs, trying to wipe the color from his cheeks though some seems to be a permanent pigmentation having nothing to do with the makeup and everything to do with the kisses. "This is P.I. Hotchner, I'm consulting with him on a case. Mr. Hotchner," Spencer says it so easily and Hotch has to clench his jaw tight to hide how it makes his blood heat up in a very unprofessional way, "this is a very good friend of mine, Ms. Penelope Garcia."

"My, my, aren't you handsome. Where have you been hiding this one, Spence?" Hotch takes his hat off to greet her, and she practically giggles in exhilaration. "And so polite, too! Please tell me those gentlemanly manners come with a sultry Southern drawl." 

"I'm afraid I lost the accent sometime around my second year at Harvard," Hotch tells her, offering his customary delegation smile he also learned at his alma malter. What can he say? He knows who it works for. Ms. Garcia practically pouts as she flirts back.

"Such a shame."

"Penny, please," Spencer groans out. "Professionalism. What have we talked about?"

"There's a time and a place, and when you look at me like that," she pokes his nose for emphasis, shattering the attempted chastisement on the young man's face, "that means now is not that time. Fine, I get it. You called dibs. Message received." Spencer's cheeks now nearly match Ms. Garcia's lipstick in his embarrassment, not that the other woman seems to be bothered by it. Blunt and straightforward was not something Hotch was used to in this day and age, his eyebrows raised comically at her statement. "So what can I do for you fine gentleman today?" 

"We-" Spencer sputters a minute, clutching his satchel to his chest in his mild panic. "We needed your help, need your help – with information. For a case. Aar- Mr. Hotchner's case. That I'm consulting on. Officially. Professionally." Ms. Garcia clearly bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at her friend. Her perfectly applied lipstick makes it easy to see the smile she is fighting, however. "Quiet, you. I'm actually here for your help."

"What a compliment," she says, grinning like the cat that got extra cream in their saucer. "So what does the great Dr. Spencer Reid need to know that he can't find in his beloved books?"

"We're looking for information about an auction that's about to take place, or might have already taken place," Hotch interrupts, saving Spencer from tripping over his tongue once more. He also steps closer, a solid presence to give him something to gravitate towards. Their close proximity sends his very nerve-endings into a crackling excitement. "It would be private, very elite, which I'm gathering you know something about."

"Something. Basically everything," Ms. Garcia sighs. "You would think being a switchboard operator would just mean the usual duties: providing information, connecting long distance calls, just making sure all these high profile people get their phone conversations running smoothly. But I basically do every kind of telephone operating work except climbing a pole." 

With a short drop and spin into her chair, she pushes herself down the line, wheels on the feet of her stool, and starts digging through drawers and file cabinets. "I'm in charge of connecting all the top secret lines in the District; the White House, congress, FBI, CIA, you name it – I'm in charge of it. They still use wire connectors, for privacy, and this fancy room so no one can be caught snooping. Can't tap a line if I'm the one controlling who gets to listen." Stacks upon stacks of paper appear next, as she lifts them and places them on the long counter-top. "These are what was transcribed so far the past week, but our new girl who listens to the recordings has a little bit of a spelling issue. So good luck." 

There must have been three thousand pages of typed up conversations. Hotch feels dread sink deep into his stomach. This was going to take them days to sort out.

"You're really going to just let us read through this?" Hotch questions instead. 

"Oh, no no no – Dr. Reid has security clearance, you do not," she answers, pointing at them each in turn. "Good looks only get you so far in life. Plus, do you really want to read through all of that?" 

Hotch most certainly did not. 

"Well, I doubt Dr. Reid wants to, either," Hotch mutters, hating to point out the obvious. He'd feel very uncomfortable assigning the man to the task and then just watching him work.

"Why?" Ms. Garcia looks genuinely puzzled, and Spencer is already pulling a stack as thick as a briefcase is wide towards himself. "It'll take him no time at all." Spencer glances a little guiltily at Hotch, for what reason the man could not even fathom, until the young historian begins to read through the transcripts. 

Hotch watches in absolute stunned confusion. 

What happens next borders on the absurd. Spencer reads through the stack at a speed that can't be possible. His finger traces down each page, mouth moving fast as he speaks each word under his breath, and turns a page every 20 seconds. Hotch counts. Wordlessly holds his wrist up so he can watch the seconds tick by with each count of the tiny golden piece on his watch. 20 seconds, a page flips, 20 more seconds, another page; and Spencer doesn't stop for nearly an hour. Eventually, Hotch takes the offered chair Ms. Garcia gestures to, and lets the younger man work. He stares in astonishment, and Spencer is so busy he doesn't notice. Ms. Garcia certainly does, though, and is grinning from ear to ear at Hotch's flabbergasted expression.

"He's amazing, isn't he," she whispers.

"Remarkable. Beyond." Hotch can barely believe what he's witnessing with his own eyes. How could anyone read that fast? 

What else could Dr. Spencer Reid possibly do that would leave Hotch so floored? Every day, every meeting, every moment, the other man comes up with new ways to surprise him. Entice him. Hotch is mesmerized by everything the other man does, and he's finding it increasingly difficult to keep that information to himself. 

"I've got something," Spencer says after a long while, holding up a page towards the end of the stack, rereading it over and over with a scrutinizing look in those honey-hazel eyes. Hotch is on his feet and standing behind the man in an instant, leaning down to read over his shoulder – too close? Possibly. But only Ms. Garcia is there to witness it, and she had seen him staring at the other man for the past hour. There were no secrets here. "They don't mention an auction, but they mention a historic collection and a Georgetown professor giving them clearance into Qatar airspace for 'transportation of academic materials.' The charter is named Quantico, and it was set to leave from a private flightline in Alexandria." 

"I know it well," Hotch admits. "That has to be it. When was this?" 

"A few days ago," Spencer reveals with a smile, that only falters for a moment. "Odd, their terminology here sounds like this has already happened."

"That could be a mis-type," Ms. Garcia added, eavesdropping. "Told you, the typist is new. She misspelled Washington the other day." 

Spencer nods along, and then keeps reading another page or so, his hand stilling so suddenly Hotch feels the reverberation. "Oh no."

"What?"

"There's… there's some mention of a criminal element, and some government agencies in Europe that should not want anything to do with these items. They're assigned to intercept the charter, and–," his voice goes quiet, and Hotch is standing so close he knows the words are meant solely for him. Spencer turns to look at him over his shoulder, realizing a little late how close Hotch was hovering, but the amount of terror reflecting in his gaze is enough for Hotch to understand the inference the other man made.

Some very powerful people were hoping to do some very terrible things with the items Hotch was sent to find. If anyone discovered that these items could actually conduct the hidden fourth facet of alchemy, then this wasn't just a case to retrieve the artifacts for a client. This was far greater than that. And far above Hotch's paygrade. 

Unfortunately, he also happened to be in the best position to do something about it.

"I think it's time I take a turn in consulting my own experts in the field," Hotch says gravely, standing up to his full height and retrieving his coat and hat. "If those items are dispersed to the international underworld, we will never see them again." Whatever Professor Blake had tried to arrange, those artifacts were not going to any academics or museums of origin like she'd planned.

"But what can we do?" Spencer asked, standing up and scrambling to gather his own things. 

"I know the man who owns that flightline," Hotch explains. "Nothing goes in or out of that airfield without that certain someone's say so." Someone who shared some of his best Scotch with Hotch just the day before. He just hopes Dave doesn't directly know about anything that is going on, or somehow became involved since he'd last spoken to him. 

Spencer is beside him the next time he looks up.

"I'm coming with you." 

Hotch isn't proud to admit that he hesitates.

"I won't take no for an answer," Spencer states.

"No." 

"Yes! You are going to be leaving your informant and heading straight to the airfield afterwards, it only makes sense I come with you!" Spencer argues, side stepping to stay right in Hotch's space as the man tries to circle around him. "You can't just double back and come get me. And I'm hardly just going to go sit and wait in Alexandria until you are done talking to your crime boss or whoever it is–"

"You aren't going to Alexandria, either," Hotch says, stern and final, making Spencer gape at him. "You are taking the artifacts back to the Smithsonian."

"And what? Just sit on my hands until you deem me worthy of assisting you?" 

Hotch does scowl at him then, petulant should not be an attractive look on anyone and Hotch was determinedly not thinking about those avenues when they could be dealing with potential life-threatening situations. "If something were to go wrong, which it very well could, then I would rather you be somewhere out of the line of fire."

"And then I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you," Spencer says, no hesitation and adrenaline making his heartbeat pulse visibly at his throat. He swallows thickly, the admission ringing loudly in the room, and Hotch watches the expressions on his face flit from one emotion to the next. An invigorated flush to Spencer's cheeks that he wants to feel beneath his hands. "Don't ask me to stay behind. If something happens and I'm not there, I –"

His voice fails him, and it takes everything in Hotch to not reach out to the man.

"What exactly do you plan to do, if something were to happen?" he asks, not unkindly, but it draws those beautiful eyes back to Hotch's face and a barely there smile of disbelief graces those lips. 

"Well, I have been known to talk my way out of anything." 

Hotch finds his shoes rooted to the floor, unable to look away for anything, and feels his own expression soften. It feels like melting. He smiles, small and real, and just for Spencer.

"It seems you can talk yourself into anything, too," he murmurs lowly. Spencer flushes deeper in response. 

Ms. Garcia clears her throat, making the two men jump about two feet apart.

"Yes, hi – still here. My office, and all that," she practically giggles, watching from her chair. "Didn't want to interrupt your lover's spat or anything, but do y'all want me to call you a car or something so you can get this show on the road?" Hotch sighs and nods, while Spencer ducks his head down to hide his lobster-red flush, tucking hair behind his ear nervously. 

"Thank you," Hotch mentions as Ms. Garcia waves them out the door. "For your help, and your… discretion." He coughs, struggling to admit the word. 

"You are most very welcome," she beams at him. "Just make sure you take care of our mutual friend, keep him out of any gunfights."

"Will do," Hotch answers, putting on his hat and tipping it just to see her laugh. Instead she pinches his cheek and sends him on his way with a kiss to the other.

"Thanks, doll. Hope to see you again real soon. Your taxi is waiting on the curb!" She calls, stunning him silent and making Spencer burst out laughing. The young scholar has to lead him out of the room, taking Hotch's larger hand in his own, neither noticing that their fingers interweave together perfectly. Not until they were already back in the elevator.

.

—

tbc…

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⬅Previous Chapter

Next Chapter➡ 

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Tagged list so far: @physics-magic​​ @thaddeusly​​ @sideblogforcrimpy​ @anxious-enby​ @t4tpoisondamage​​​​

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[limonadecandy]

What the controversy about trans women in professional sports says about modern cycling

CW : Transphobia, sexism, mentions of racism and eating disorders.

The United Kingdom, my friends, is a cesspool. Boris Johnson infamously exited 10 Downing Street on last July, humiliated by his own party. In between two scandals, Johnson did not care about raging inflation, rising energy prices, crisis in Northern Ireland, the collapse of the NHS, or kids getting fed at school. Instead, the former English PM opted to focus on a fringe issue : he declared that trans women, whom he deems to be "biological males", should not be allowed to compete in professional sports. One may wonder why BoJo cares so much about a group that makes up 1% of the total UK population (though the numbers might be slightly higher nowadays as the last survey on the matter goes back to 2018), and that can be so scarcely found in professional sports. But everything is possible in a country not-so-affectionately nicknamed “TERF Island”, in reference to their powerful trans-exclusionist radical feminist lobby, plaging every single major British political party at the detriment of more urgent social issues. It is sadly very likely that his replacement Liz Truss, who ignorantly declared that "a real woman has a cervix", will follow his way, on top of rightfully angering cis women who have undergone total hysterectomy for medical reasons.

Johnson’s senseless declarations came in last April, after 21 year-old cyclist Emily Bridges was deemed unfit to take part in competitive cycling races by both the UCI and British Cycling, despite having testosterone levels lower than the required 5g/mol. Hearing the latter institution coming at the “defense” of women’s sports while they allowed known sexist and racist Shane Sutton to operate as their coach for years sounds like peak hypocrisy. If transphobes made as much noise against bigoted or abusive coaches as they did for trans athletes, perhaps there would be less people like Sutton or Marc Braeke in women’s pelotons. Excluding trans athletes was never about protecting women’s sports, nor is it scientifically backed. As demonstrated in a 2021 study, testosterone does not improve grip strength or lean mass in cisgender women ; that role is taken over by estrogen and human growth hormone. Bridges herself had teamed up with a researcher from Longborough University to document her performance changes before and after starting hormone replacement therapy (HRT) : in two years, her values indicated a 13-16% drop in her power outputs across six-second, one-, five- and 20-minute durations. While she has retained her original bone structure, she has undoubtedly lost power, VO2 max, and many other components that make her competitive, including in women’s categories. Not to mention the alleviated risk of bone fracture, since testosterone, just like estrogen for cis women of reproductive age, acts like a protective agent for bone density. Yet, no legislation forbading cis women who use a contraceptive pill of taking part in competitive racing has ever been proposed. Thankfully, though, as cis men taking away the reproductive rights of people with uteruses has become a huge problem in the USA and Poland over the past decade. Because the issue isn’t really about trans women, but more about the ignorance of cis men on how categories of gender are policed.

In 2008, Spanish-French philosopher Paul B. Preciado published Testo Junkie, an arduous, 325-page long essay where he details his gender transition and its social, philosophical and physiological impacts. Inside, Preciado coined the term of "pharmacopornographic capitalism", describing the role played by the porn industry, the pharmaceutical industry and traditional gender roles in regulating people’s bodies, particularly their gender identity and their reproductive systems. The pharmacopornographic capitalism of cycling sounds like the subtitle of the biography of any 2000's rider. The porn, found in Thomas Dekker's stories of orgies with sex workers, the capitalism, as training methods became more tailored than ever for the sake of performance, excluding in the process riders with weakened mental states (which gets us to the tales of depression from Tyler Hamilton, and those of addiction from Frank Vanderbroucke and Marco Pantani), and of course, the pharmacology. At the time Testo Junkie was released, WADA’s biological passports weren’t officially implemented yet, though widely tested in professional cycling after the debacles of 2006 and 2007 Tour de France. Preciado still found time to comment on Floyd Landis’ defense after his positive testosterone sample :

Poor fools. It’s as if Pamela Anderson tried to pass off her 115E silicone prosthetics for natural breasts under the pretense that she is a biological woman.

He also mentioned that a the time of Landis’ test, four million of cisgender males in the United States were undergoing a testosterone-based medical treatment ; in 2019, these rates climbed to more than 5 million prescriptions, making of T the 126th most commonly prescribed medication in the United-States. While female-to-male transition methods were made more accessible in this 13-year span, it is not enough to explain this uptick in prescriptions, as trans people in general only make up one million of USA’s general population, and there’s fewer trans males & female-to-non-binary transgender people than there is trans women. That makes of cisgender men the biggest receivers of hormone replacement therapy. They are notably treated for hypogonadism, erectile dysfunction, or simply because “they were not producing enough testosterone”. As mentioned earlier, low-bone density in cis men is associated to unsufficent testosterone levels. That means that not all biological males have an higher bone density than cis women's. Equally, some cis women have naturally bigger bone density than other women, and even some cisgender men. Testosterone supplement therapy is only pathologized in two instances : for trans men, where it is seen, as Preciado describes, as a way of mutilating a "pure" female body through hair and muscle growth, and in sports, where using testosterone is considered as cheating, whether the gender of the user. The idea that trans men are "cheating" the female condition through medical and social transition is a common TERF diatribe ; it is therefore interesting to find this idea of cheating attributed to cis men athletes. Testosterone is considered with the same contempt as any Class-A drug. It makes people aggressive, smelly, hairy, inherently prone to hurt women. Sounds a lot like mediatic tales of people committing violent crimes under the influence of depressant drugs, isn't it? The demonisation of testosterone is a core value of transmisogyny. It's the argument used by transphobes to demine the identities of trans women and AMAB non-binary people, after all. Trans women are evil because their endocrine systems secrete testosterone. Trans men are becoming evil traitors to the “woman race” because they are using testosterone. Wait until they learn that cisgender women also produce T naturally!

Preciado could have much to say about the biological passports. Who decides which rates are acceptable, which amount of testosterone makes you an unsuspicious man or woman. A 2014 study 16,5% of surveyed male athletes had low testosterone levels, whereas 13,7% of surveyed women athletes had high levels with complete overlap between the sexes. The biological passport’s endocrine profiles are therefore not a convincing way to draw a line between the sexes. DNA tests would not work either, as 2% of the world’s population is intersex, having chromosomes that don’t match their official gender. Keep in mind that there's more intersex people in the world than there are twins, or redheads.

Biological passports can’t prove an athlete’s gender. Their values serve as a complement to the athlete’s physical appearance. If the crusade against “abnormal” hormone levels was truly about fairness, then Tadej Pogacar would have never been allowed to race because his VO2 max is higher than his counterparts. Michael Phelps should be stripped of all of his medals because his low levels of lactic acid allows him to recover faster than his opponents. Katie Ledecky should be banned from entering a swimming pool because she’s taller than her… Oh wait. That’s the argument that has been used against trans swimmer Lia Thomas. And the same that was used against cis, but hyperandrogenetic, athlete Caster Semenya. But I guess a tall, white, cis woman is not that suspicious, unless she comes from a country that is at odds with the United States like Russia. The Icarus documentary and the Russian athlete ban at the two last olympics come across as ironic considering the United States’ recent doping history. As if Balco, or Alberto Salazar had never existed, and Armstrong's Oprah confession was not even ten years ago. Throughout history, “Fairness” has been instrumentalized against athletes of color, or who do not hail from a Western country. Now, it’s also getting weaponized against gender non-conforming people.

Speaking of subverting gender norms, the aesthetics of cycling are particularly interesting. The sport's most celebrated heroes are glabrous, worryingly thin, cherubish-looking men who wear flashy Lycra jerseys. My gay mates would call them twinks, basically. No amount of homophobic banter off-stage or children before the age of 25 could make up for these looks (sorry Vingegaard!). Coincidentally, some of the past decade’s pop culture icons, from Tom Holland to Valentin Madouas’ brunette doppelgänger Timothée Chalamet, completely fit the description of a twink, despite being overwhelmingly straight. At an age where masculinity is redefined, the twink’s cuteness has a reassuring quality. Yet, in a cycling context, his characteristic appearance becomes somewhat of a mass destruction weapon. Thanks to his pocket size, Caleb Ewan can sneak between his opponent’s sprint trains. Esteban Chaves and Miguel Angel Lopez may not be taller than 165 centimeters, yet they remain a force to be reckoned with once the road rises (as you notice here, the “cycling twink”, unlike his gay counterpart, is not associated with whiteness). Even Tadej Pogacar could be considered as a twink due to his youthful, somewhat androgynous looks. Men’s sports usually celebrate synthetic inflated muscles and taller frames, a prime example being rugby, where only pillars are allowed to be of "average" size (180cms, an average size, really?). Cycling is the counterpoint. Even though most sprinters and rouleurs have that “90s action movie star” look, sprinters aren’t as celebrated as they used to be three decades ago, while climbers, general classification riders and stage hunters are undoubtedly the sport’s most celebrated stars. At its core, cycling celebrates queer bodies, in the unusual and marginal sense of the word “queer”. After all, in its early days, cycling was a sport picked up by working class men and unruly women. The sport’s first global star was a Black man, Major Taylor. The legendary Alfonsina Morini Strada won 36 races against cisgender men, and was even allowed to take part in the men’s Giro in 1924 after the organisators mistook her for a man thanks to her tomboyish attitude.

The issue, though, is about women’s sports. Ah, women’s cycling, such an heteronormative place! Shanaze Reade, Judith Arndt, Ina-Yoko Teutenberg, Tayler Wiles, Georgia Simmerling, Giorgia Bronzini. All medal-collectors. All lesbians. The phenomenon is in no way recent as Alice Temple, UK’s first-ever women’s BMX champion, and Petra Rossner, gold medal at the 1992 Summer Olympics 3 km pursuit track cycling event, are also openly gay. Trans women are already present, such as Natalie Van Gogh, who was cherished by her Bingoal Casino–Chevalmeire teammates before retiring unbothered last year. A late-comer to the sport, as Van Gogh underwent sex-reassignement surgery in 2005, at a time where the vast majority of her teammates hadn’t started puberty yet, and who had likely been taking HRT from earlier than this date.

Back on the conversation of lesbian inclusion and erasure. During a MLA conference about her book The Straight Thought in 1978, French theorist Monique Wittig concluded that “Lesbians aren’t women, they’re lesbians”. An opinion that remains controversial and discussed to this date, often misinterpreted as lesbophobic due to the ongoing masculinization of lesbians in popular consciousness. What Wittig explained throughout her essay is that the category of “woman” was created by heterosexual men and only makes sense in their worldview. As a prerogative, all women must center men in their relationship (which also explains the disproportionate rates of domestic and sexual violence in bisexual women, but I digress). This centering of the cishet male thought also explains why transgender lesbians were refused gender-affirming care until the late 1970s, while straight trans women like Christine Morgensen had been allowed to medically transition two decades prior. As for their posture in sports, lesbians are tolerated in the “female” category because their birth certificates and ID cards classify them as such, and becaus their sexual characters matches with the binary “pussy-XX-chromosome” model implemented by male-dominated institutions. Otherwise, lesbians and straight women do not perform their gender the same way. That also explains why a huge amount of athletes recently banned from competition due to hyperandrogenism are lesbians, like Caster Semenya and Dutee Chand ; since the latter are simply tolerated in the women categories, they face more media and institutional scrutiny. Add the fact that they’re women of color and are not Westerners, and you get the sour Cocktail of Dope Suspicion.

Gender checks do not protect women. Gender checks undanger lesbian and bisexual women. Gender checks endanger women of color. It reinforces a landscape of fear and suspicion that has already pushed so many talented LGBTQ figures out of the sports. Remember that 68% of the LGBTQ youth abstain from sports. While the study did not survey on any possible factors, gender checks and a lack of action against casual homophobic & transphobic remarks might be plausible explainations. The same people who constantly whine about trans lesbians and trans men causing the “extinction of lesbians” are supporting measures that drive a younger generation of lesbians away from sports. Erasure happens when cisgender and heterosexual people ignore our struggles from the moment we don’t conform enough to their ideal of a feminine, upper-class white woman. Women’s sports are not the Blonde, white, straight, lithe and powerless Garden of Eden that their “defenders” are painting. Women’s sports are much more complex, much more diverse. Thankfully, all is not lost for queer women in sports. As a fellow sapphic, I can assure you that we’re fighting back to get our voices heard against this very loud minority who claims to speak for us.

With all of these theories in mind, pushing gender conformity in women’s cycling is nonsensical. Cycling was never meant to be understood by the elites and their uptight notions of gender, morality, and good taste. Women’s cycling in particular has been a celebration of diversity since its beginnings. Keeping these aesthetic values and this rich queer history in mind, no higher institution can regulate who can ride and who cannot, as these categories are not only arbitrary, flawed and biased, but also go against the philosophy of cycling. Furthermore, this issue is obviously used as a distraction to not tackle systemic bigotry in women’s cycling, reflected in the sexual harrasment scandals, the racism, the lower pays and undefunded races.

As final words, I’ll pay tribute to the man who inspired Preciado’s essay, Guillaume Dustan. A long-time AIDS sufferer, the openly gay writer was a victim of a media witch-hunt after he declared he conducted in barebacking practices on national television, a position that earned him ire from Act-Up Paris as well as from the uptight heterosexual Parisian elite. Dustan quit writing shortly afterwards and died in late 2005, following an excessive intake of antidepressants and interaction with his tritherapy meds. Looking back at the controversy after Dustan’s passing, Act-Up Paris’ then director Didier Lestran admitted that he had “spent more energy at fighting against [his] friends rather than [his] enemies.” That’s what we can learn from the controversy : trans athletes are not the enemies of sports. Cycling can only gain from more inclusion, as it will force institutions to strip off once for all their racist and heteronormative biases of what a “real woman” and a “real man” is, and return to its roots, where marginalized people could become heroes of a nation by triumphing over nature’s biggest obstacles. Trans cyclists are our friends, as they love cycling as much as we do.

Sources:

https://www.pinknews.co.uk/2022/04/15/womens-cicle-classic-emily-bridges-british-cycling/

https://www.google.com/amp/s/amp.theguardian.com/sport/2016/oct/31/shane-sutton-denies-sexism-jess-varnish

https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-021-89232-1

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/cen.12445

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/lia-thomas-trans-swimmer-data-b2049615.html

https://archive.ph/20190411113203/https://divamag.co.uk/2018/12/19/not-in-our-name/

[oasis-nadrama]

Rowling: The Political Enemy

Oasis Nadrama, 04/08/2021 [CW: transphobia, misogyny, racism, fascism]

Rowling is a significant example of reactionary depolitization with a thin varnish of pseudo-progressive thought. By merely reading Harry Potter, one can understand Rowling's underlying orientation, and her complete lack of political understanding. Apparently, she is thoroughly convinced she's championing egalitarian values, but her actions, declarations and positions run in the opposite direction. Rowling's "feminism" - more like fauxminism - finds its natural, instinctive source in the fact it is the only oppression she is able to truly visualizes. She visibly lacks both the passive empathy and active compassion to integrate systems of domination she does not directly experience in her worldview. Her past path left her with a solid awareness of precarity, but she is unable to reason in terms of class struggles. Systemic racism is completely unknown to her, her mind splitting and reducing it into the apparently mutually exclusive economical exploitation (goblins, house elves) and racist ideology (bigotry towards muggles, Voldemort's pseudo-nazism). She specializes in cultural appropriation (see her approach of Native-American magic) and she is "casually" anti-Semitic (see the goblins, again), as well as fatshaming, classist (in seven years, Harry did not help the Weasley financially once, not even when their house was set on fire by his enemies), misogynistic on a regular basic, ridiculously queerphobic (lycanthropy as an offensive metaphor for HIV with very unfortunate implications, blatant and constant erasure of Dumbledore's homosexuality, regular depiction of Grindelwald's sensuality as predatory)... She is the cops' best friend (Harry and his comrades end up as Aurors etc) and an excellent servant to the Powers That Be. Rowling is decent enough to understand fascism is the enemy, but she does not understand what fascism IS. She appreciates the statu quo and established institutions, and she simply thinks of government and administrative corruption as caused by weak people (Fudge, Scrimgeour) rather than an fundamental and endemic problem in statism and capitalism. She does not understand contemporary western societies are not merely infected by fascism: they are the MODEL fascism is built upon. Fascism is ultra-industrial/stakhanovist, tyrannical, full of toxic masculinity, misogyny and queerphobias, reeking of extreme racism, because existing structures are already capitalistic, statist, patriarchal and colonialist. Rowling is unable to grasp this reality, or even to suspect it, apparently, resulting in her regular support towards figures of authority and the ruling power. And of course, in the end, Rowling is also violently transphobic, she may even be the most popular, powerful TERF (Trans Exclusionary "Radical" "Feminist") in this time and age. For her fauxminism is limited to her own observations: she will never stop about anything else than the fundamental rights of... white, cisgender, zedsexual/zedromantic, dyadic (and now bourgeois) women, she's just thinking about the oppression she IS concerned with. And despite her lack of understanding of gender problematics, she claims to know the topic perfectly: "I've spent much of the last three years reading books, blogs and scientific papers by trans people, medics and gender specialists. I know exactly what the distinction is. Never assume that because someone thinks differently, they have no knowledge." So let's do her words justice. Let's assess her positions by the standard of the political knowledge she boasted about repeatedly. J.K. Rowling is a reactionary, right-wing, horribly transphobic individual. Period. P.S.: One’s position towards the Harry Potter universe is another matter entirely. Please do not use this article to shame or bully people who love this world, particularly transgender and non-binary people who find it already difficult to live in this world full of oppression, and who often manage to find escapism and a place of happiness in these works and who sometimes drew the strength for coming out from these pages.

[dramioneasks]

Its not a matter of "some people like different stuff" I don't like marriage law fics and you don't see me here complaining. There are some writers who choose to give their characters more dept or trauma by making them rape victims, and it os ok, thats a different debate. But the fics that you share here under that category, MOST of them are romantizicing rape. Physically Irresistible is one of your favorites and it is a perfect example of that. (CONT)

(CONT) The fact that you're not even open to questioning the way you run this page and are immediately dismissing me by saying " if you don't like, don't read". It's like I know!!! If I don't like ROMANTIC PORTRAYAL OF RAPE I won't read it obviously but that's not the point. The point is that you are actively supporting the making and sharing of that content. And IT IS IMPORTANT, it creates rape culture!!! It prevents women from acting up or even realizing that they're experiencing abuse! (2//3)

AND BDSM HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH RAPE! Or as some people lile to put it non conscent ((THERES NO SUCH THING AS NON CONSENSUAL SEX. ITS RAPE)). BDSM is a super controlled practice and the participants are extremely responsible when done right. (3/3)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am going to direct your attention to these articles:

Novels That Tackle Sexual Assault

THE NECESSITY OF WELL-WRITTEN SEXUAL ASSAULT IN FICTION

I can’t write about a world without rape – because I don’t live in one by Kaite Welsh

Writing Fiction About Sexual Abuse And Sexual Violence In The Era Of #MeToo 

The New York Times article gives a list of books that talk about sexual assault. In each of the other articles it talks about women writers and the topic of sexual assault and rape. 

We are an archive. We archive the stories under the Dramione tag which means that we will come across stories that depict sexual violence, non-consensual and dubious consent.  In the CW: Rape, Non-con/ Dub-con, Abuse tags you are going to find a lot of stories that detail those topics. Whether in a good light or a bad light. 

When we write, we write to make sense of a world that is at times senseless. Over the years, many topics that had been taboo before such as sexual assault, rape or abuse have come to the foreground. 

Many authors write about their experiences with these as a way to heal from their traumas. They use fictional characters to depict the actions of the ones that hurt them. To tell them that they cannot write that and then share their experiences because it adds to rape culture is like telling a BIPOC that they cannot write, create or share their experiences with racism, with sexual assault, with abuse, with the oppression and injustice of our world because you personally think it adds to those cultures. 

There is a place for Dark Fiction. That is what those stories are. They are dark fiction which is a genre of works that depict the ugliness of our word through a fictional means. The authors are then free to express their fears, thoughts and experiences within that realm because they are using fictional characters in real life situations.

Those include stories like The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. 

Do we condone stories that depict rape in a romantic fashion? No. 

Please do not make assumptions that we find pleasure or glee in the depictions of rape. Do not make assumptions that we support anyone that engages in sexual assault. 

On the topic of Consensual Non- Consensual in BDSM:

 The Role of Consent in the Context of BDSM

Safewords and negotiation are especially important in scenes involving rapeplay. Rape-play is the enactment or role play of nonconsensual sex within an invisible structure of pre-negotiated consent (Joyal et al., 2015; Pitagora, 2013; Sandnabba et al., 2002). Scenes involving rape-play, or “consensual non-consent,” require extensive negotiation and planning so that behaviors that would otherwise be indicative of a lack of consent can be performed with the mutual understanding that such behaviors do not, in that instance, signal a desire to stop (Pitagora, 2013). The individuals involved are thus able to act out a nonconsensual fantasy in real life, with safety precautions in place, while freely engaging in outwardly resistant and coercive behaviors. Safewords enable practitioners to safely engage in scenes while acting in ways that would otherwise seem nonconsenting. Participants who endorsed an interest in rape fantasies in a prevalence study by Joyal and colleagues (2015) specified that they would never want to actually have such experiences. Thus, rape fantasies do not necessarily translate to corresponding desire for rape (Masters, Johnson, & Kolodny, 1988). The simulated activity of coercive sex with pre-established consent may be enjoyed, whereas real-life sexual assault would likely be traumatic and unwanted (Critelli & Bivona, 2008).

-   Cara R. Dunkley and Lori A. Brotto, The Role of Consent in the Context of BDSM, Section Safe Words, pages 7- 9, (2019)

The article above is from a scientific research paper on Consent in the realm of BDSM.

I do not have anything to add to what is said because it explains itself quite clearly.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Leeu Part Two

CW: Death mentions, exhaustion, previous collapse, nonhuman whumpee, hypothermia, racism against a fantasy creature, heavy use of Google Translate (please correct any errors I made; I do not speak Finnish at all)

… Part one can be viewed here

…

One Hour Later… Anita lay supine, still strapped into the harness that held her against the creature’s broad, silken chest. She couldn’t move much; but upon turning her head to either side, she could see his massive wings floating atop the water like pontoons. Anita remembered studying his species in school; their scientific name was “nubes daemonium,” literally meaning “cloud demon.” Up until a few days ago, she didn’t think it was possible for one to care for a human, let alone rescue one. Now she found that she trusted this ”demon” more than any person she ever knew.

From somewhere not too far away, Anita’s ears picked up the sound of rushing water. It took her some time to pinpoint its source; but eventually, she saw it. It was headed towards them, at an angle.

“Hey,” She shook the creature, ”There’s a ship!”

He made no movement.

Anita tried to rouse him again, “Mister Cloud Demon?”

Still nothing.

After all they had been through together, Anita felt sick to think he might be dead. Frantically, she unbuckled the harness, causing her to slide off the creature’s chest, into the water.

Splash.

Anita’s head and body went under; it was freezing — cold enough to kill. She gasped. Quickly, she broke the surface and grabbed hold of the large wing nearest her; her eyes widened at how stiff it felt. With a snap of the head, she looked up.

The ship‘s port side was facing them. It was close enough for her to see crewmen climbing through the rigging. She started waving her free arm, “Hey! Hey! Over here!”

One of the men in the rigging turned his head toward them, and called out to his superiors. Soon after, the ship dropped anchor; and two men in a wooden skiff rowed over. Anita wondered how such a small boat would be able to hold the cloud demon.

Soon she was pulled aboard by two strong-armed men. One had red hair; the other was blonde.

The blonde man put a blanket around her shivering body, “Oletko loukkaantunut?”

”Huh?”

“Onko tämä olento siepannut sinut?“

”I don’t know your language… Do you speak Spanish?” She turned to her friend. Up until this point, she hadn’t noticed how blue his face had turned. She gestured wildly as if to form words, “We, need to… get him… to safety.”

The red-haired man turned to his confused companion, “Hän puhuu Espanjaa.”

“Voitko kommunikoida hänen kanssaan?“ The blonde man asked him.

“Valitettavasti en voi.”

Anita noticed the two other men at the oars starting to row away. Stricken with panic, she threw herself at them, “NO! STOP!”

The boat rocked violently.

“Nainen, mitä sinä teet!?“ One of the rowers snapped, “Jos teet sen uudelleen, heität meidät yli laidan!”

”Ottaa rennosti! Hän on peloissaan,” The red-haired man laid a hand on Anita’s shoulder. He paused, then spoke softly in English, hoping she’d understand, “It is all right. It will… not hurt you anymore.”

Anita didn’t know English, yet she understood the solidarity he was trying to convey; it was comforting. But the matter of the cloud demon remained unsolved. If they waited any longer to get him out of the water, it would kill him.

“Please,” She pointed to the creature, ”He saved my life.”

All she received were a bunch of confused and blank stares.

Tears welled up in her eyes; she collapsed onto her knees, pleading to the best of her ability, “He’ll die if we don’t help him.”

One of the rowers quietly shook his head as he picked up his oars again.

”No!” Anita shrieked, “You can’t leave him like that! He’ll die— you can’t let him die — please!”

The other rower’s brow furrowed with worry as he pieced together the situation, “Luulen, että hän rakastaa tuota demonia...”

“Peto on varmasti lumonnut hänen sydämensä,” The other said.

There was a pause. Anita didn‘t know what was said; but she could tell by the their tone that it was grave and involved the cloud demon.

“Jos niin,” The blonde man replied, “Meidän on hävitettävä sen ruumis oikealla tavalla lopettaaksemme kirouksen.”

The men rowed back to the creature. The red-haired man took a coiled rope from off the floor and tied it around his ankles to tow him back to the ship…

…

To be continued…

Again.