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#every point was a baseless opinion given with no evidence

drwcn · 3 years

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What are your opinions on JFM & YZY’s parenting? I’ve never been totally sure, given that YZY is definitely abusive emotionally & physically, to what extent it goes beyond the fact that like, it’s culturally (in Untamed-land) normalized to hit your kids (&...servants?) as punishment and parental authority is HUGE. I know she’s off-base (though also that so is WWX by kid standards - not that that means he *deserves* it), but how off-base is she when it comes to playing her kids against each other & constantly tearing them down (it seems like)? Is JFM’s favoritism vs ignoring his heir also weird?

okay so I’ve been sitting on this for a while because I just didn’t have the mental capacity to talk about this.

Disclaimer: What I say regarding YZY and JFM will probably be coloured by my own experiences growing up with Asian parents. I had a good life, with strict but loving parents. I never questioned my parents’ concern and love for me, though when I say they were strict, I do mean they were strict. Despite fights, I continue to have a good relationship with my parents, and as I grew up, maturity and experience gave me some perspectives I didn’t have a child.

The fandom, at least the English speaking one, in my opinion, interprets YZY and JFM in a way that is often removed from the cultural and context under which these two characters are written. It is no one’s fault, but it does speak to the fact that there is a lack of understanding of familial dynamics that naturally exist in an Asian family. Sometimes, I feel like people also project whatever displeasure they have with their own folks onto YZY and JFM.

^ This statement will invariably piss off some people, and I am recognizing this in advance. Rather than arguing, you can just block me. It will save both of us a lot of grief.

1) Jiang Fengmian absolutely care about Jiang Cheng. No matter how much JFM favours WWX, Jiang Cheng is sect heir and that has never been a question.

Sometimes I would read a fanfic and ppl would have wildly outrageous plot points ie: JFM not inviting JC to an important sect event. I can’t even finish the sentence in those cases. I just ‘nope’ the heck out of there.

I’m sure if JFM had a choice, he would’ve chosen to have children with a woman he loved from the beginning. But just because his children aren’t born by the love of his life doesn’t mean he doesn’t love and care about them. Jiang Cheng is his son and heir, and that means something not just in Asian culture, but across cultures. To say that JFM doesn’t care about JC is...baseless. I certainly never saw any evidence of that in the show. The relationship a sire has with his heir is more than just that of father and son; it will never be a simple familial relationship and that’s not just in The Untamed. I would even say that a sire can’t love his heir the way a regular father loves a son. There is not just familial love between them but a delicate power dynamic, and a greater expectation and demand for excellence and respect. It would be more obvious when there are multiple sons, because then Power will play a much bigger role within the sibling and father-son relationships.

Jiang Fengmian favours Wei Wuxian. I think that much is obvious and without question, but he would never make Wei Wuxian his heir. Jiang Yanli would inherit before Wei Wuxian. WWX has no chance in hell in replacing JFM’s legitimate children even if he was JFM’s bastard child, because that’s just how inheritance works. Now, parents have favorites. Every parent does, unless you’re an only child. Parents are people, and they’re imperfect. If I have learned anything in life is that... we’re all just winging it as we go. Every single one of us. We only go through each stage of life once. There are no do-overs. Parents are no exception. Each child will have a different personality, and to think their parents will like all of them equally is... unreasonable. There is a difference between like and love. Parents can love their kids equally, but they will like some more than others. That’s just fact.

Now, did JFM make JC feel like WWX embodied their sect’s motto more than him? Not overtly, but that’s certainly the effect I think his favoritism caused. And also, JFM probably just vibed with WWX more as a parent. The entire fandom is like up in arms about that, saying how he neglected JC, but here’s the thing: making your child feel inadequate is like the bedrock of Asian parenting. If I could have a dollar for every time my parents used “other people’s children” to tell me how I should do better, I’d make a significant dent into my student debt. (To give you some context: I graduated high school in the top 1% of my province and I scored in the 97th percentile on the MCAT). Now you can tell me that’s so toxic and abusive or whatever, but a lot of Asian kids will just shrug it off. It is such a shared experience we can laugh about it in hindsight and turn it into a meme ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. (TwoSet Violin fans: no matter how good we are, we can never be as good as Ling Ling.) Now I’m not saying that it’s a very...effective parenting method or one that should be condoned, but I certainly didn’t bat an eye at it when I saw it on The Untamed.

2) Physical discipline is a frequently used trope in cdrama and not considered abuse. You will not see this in modern dramas, because it is no longer acceptable in many asian families. But when it’s a historical drama, people don’t usually care bc....it’s....historical...and fictional.

That being said, Yu Ziyuan is certainly not the world’s kindest stepmother. But to say that WWX grew up constantly abused is... conjecture. Your Honour, objection, insufficient proof. If WWX did something wrong, if he misbehaved or broke the rule or caused trouble, I’m sure YZY wouldn’t hesitate to deal with it as was the custom of that time, but Wei Wuxian wasn’t scrubbing no floors like Cinderella, okay? He’s clearly a well-fed and respected young master of Lotus Pier. I remember so distinctively when JC and WWX came home, and one of the maids ran through the halls, calling out “The gongzis have returned!” If you wanna be really granular, technically speaking Lotus Pier only has one gongzi, and that’s JC, but as we can see Wei Wuxian was treated like a second son, and that’s 100% above his station. He ate at the same table as the main family. No other disciple was allowed to do that.

Yu Ziyuan will be eternally salty about this, but no she wasn’t verbally and physically abusing her kids 24/7. She was mad because Wen Ruohan was asking the sects to send their heirs and Jiang Fengmian was once again being avoidant and quiet, and she was up in arms. In her opinion, JFM should stop being a bitch and do something. And honestly, being yelled at while eating is also one of those fundamentally Asian experiences. IDK what to tell you. That part of the script was so good - I literally both loled and cringed - because that’s exactly what an average asian family looks like when shit hits the fan.

3) And finally: Love. Asian families just aren’t verbally affectionate, but damn do we show up and pull through when we need to.

If there’s anything we gleamed from the Jiangs is that, fuck I may not really like you, but I will die with you if that’s what it comes down to, because I am your husband/wife/son/daughter/brother/sister, and I won’t leave you behind. It’s a hard thing to explain: I love you even when I hate you. Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan died holding each other’s hand. I think that says plenty.

I’ve never told my family I love them, because I don’t have to. Love has nothing to do with it. My folks always said that western culture focused too much on love, that there are more important things. I don’t necessarily agree with that, but I do see what they’re trying to say. Like: you visit your old and dying grandpa in the hospital even if he was an asshole to you his entire life, not because you love him, but because he’s your grandfather and you have to. Under this point of view, you’ll never be free of your family. There’s a saying: even if you break the bones you’ll be connected by tendon. I don’t know if that’s healthy, but who’s to say? It’s just the way it is.

Like I said, that’s just my two cents. I’m not an expert by any stretch of the imagination. I can only speak from experience, which is of course not generalizable to everyone. Take from it what you will.

#culture #cql reference #cql #the untamed #jiang fengmian #yu ziyuan #Anonymous #corie replies

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wall-of-history · 4 years

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BIONICLE 2: Legends of Metru Nui is Still as Beloved as Fans Remember: A Response to Comic Book Resource and Matthew Attanasio

Hey everyone! I’m James, the guy behind Wall of History. I know I rarely drop the facade of my brand on official Wall of History accounts, but today, I’d like to make a more casual, opinionated post on something that’s been getting a lot of attention from the BIONICLE community on Twitter.

Last night, Comic Book Resources posted an article titled “BIONICLE 2: Legends of Metru Nui is Still as Pointless as Fans Remember,” and if you have even a surface-level familiarity with the BIONICLE community, I’m sure you can guess the reaction we had — CBR’s tweet was pretty quickly ratioed by fans, drawing comments like, “Comic book resource [sic] once again proving you do not require a brain to type,” and, “We think that the Vahki would like to have a word with you guys." BIONICLE fans generally agree that Legends of Metru Nui is the best film in the franchise, so claims that we universally “remember” it in such a negative light are completely baseless — I’d like to move past the inflammatory title, however, and analyze the actual contents of the article.

LEGO's decision to focus on prequel material was received as a slap in the face. While fans were ready to see the story press forward, it instead fell backwards to tell stories that held little significance to the ‘present day’ plot of the franchise.

To say that the story of Metru Nui held “little significance” to the plot of the franchise is ridiculous. For three years, fans had been given only vague legends about the origins of the Matoran and their struggle with the Makuta, and after Makuta’s defeat, “pressing forward” meant returning to the world they had left behind following the Great Cataclysm. To introduce us to that world and show us how the Matoran came to be in their present situation was an obvious next step for the story.

That's not to say the various comics and novels didn't deliver interesting stories; they did.

That’s true, they did! However, the rest of this article gives me reason to believe you didn’t actually read them (or, at the very least, didn’t pay attention when you did).

They just weren't what fans craved at the time. Legends of Metru Nui failed to bring anything valuable to the table in this regard, with a sloppy story, terrible pacing and forgettable characters.

There are numerous claims and implications throughout this article (we’ve already glossed over one) that BIONICLE fans generally felt certain ways about this film, as well as this story arc as a whole, but none of these claims are backed up. To blatantly misrepresent the feelings of the community like this is rather poor journalism.

Regarding your claim that Legends of Metru Nui failed to bring anything valuable to the table, I’ll reiterate my point from above — the ending of Mask of Light saw the Matoran take the first steps toward reclaiming their home, a home that had been hidden from us, the fans, since the inception of the franchise. Showing us why and how this home was lost in the first place proved to be a vital step in expanding the scope of the BIONICLE legend. Makuta’s actions in Legends of Metru Nui ended up being the inciting incident for the rest of the story, a story that was largely set in the Matoran Universe introduced by this arc.

Your claim that the film has forgettable characters is, like your claim that fans generally remember this film negatively, demonstrably false. Vakama is widely regarded as one of the best characters, if not the best character, in the franchise (the last post on this very blog is evidence of this), and Nidhiki proved to be so popular that his origin story was later relayed to us twice, in the short story “Birth of a Dark Hunter” and the novel BIONICLE Legends #4: Legacy of Evil.

These new heroes are Vakama, Nokama, Matau, Onewa, Whenua and Nuju, Toa of Fire, Water, Air, Stone, Earth and Ice, respectively. Whereas Mask of Light's Toa Nuva were already fan-favorites, the Toa Metru were a mixed bag, and this film did nothing to help their image. In truth, all three of the main Bionicle films failed to highlight how awesome the Toa could be, which is a shame.

BIONICLE is not the story of the Toa. It’s the story of the Matoran.

In the behind the scenes featurette on the Legends of Metru Nui DVD, the narrator makes the odd claim that both Mask of Light and Legends of Metru Nui are “all about the Toa.” This claim is odd not just because Mask of Light literally isn’t about the Toa (it’s mostly about two Matoran), but also because the Matoran have always been the heart of the franchise — a fact that Legends of Metru Nui comments on.

Many fans feel that Mata Nui: The Online Game is the best BIONICLE media, and it’s a story that largely focuses on the Matoran. You play as a Matoran, you primarily interact with Matoran, you solve Matoran problems… and until the very end, the Toa are mostly off doing their own thing. This makes for a really compelling story, precisely because the Matoran aren’t “awesome” like the Toa. It’s cool when the Toa unite their elemental powers to make the Makuta explode into a pile of scrap metal, but it’s compelling when the Matoran armies, whose leaders previously seemed preoccupied with their own problems, unite to save the ragtag Chronicler’s Company from what would have been a deadly Rahi attack.

The Matoran have always been the emotional heart of the BIONICLE legend (the Toa’s stories do focus on saving them, after all), and Legends of Metru Nui understands this. When Lhikan tells Vakama to “save the heart of Metru Nui,” the Toa Metru immediately assume he’s talking about himself… and that kind of makes sense! Lhikan is, after all, the last Toa, a fearless, noble hero, and the last bastion of light in a city being consumed by shadows. Of course he’s the heart of Metru Nui! The Toa Metru spend most of the film searching for Lhikan, but when they find him, he’s not the hero he used to be anymore — he’s a small, frail Turaga now, and he berates Vakama for seeking out him instead of saving the true heart of Metru Nui, the Matoran. This is a great twist, not only because it finally delivers on some of the spooky foreshadowing from earlier in the film, but also because it sends a clear message to the audience that the Matoran are the heart of this legend.

The plot revolves around Vakama's (voiced by Alessandro Juliani) inner struggle to realize who he is. If that sounds familiar, it's because that was basically the plot of the first Bionicle film, which handled these themes in a much stronger way.

While it’s true that Takua and Vakama both struggle to accept their destinies as Toa, I feel Vakama’s struggle is the stronger of the two, as his is based in the very relatable anxiety of impostor syndrome.

That's largely because Vakama, along with just about every other character in the film, is incredibly boring.

This is one of the comments I mentioned above that makes it hard for me to believe you actually read the comics and novels that tell the rest of the Metru Nui story. Vakama’s character arc is undoubtedly the most complex in the franchise, based in relatable anxieties, and actually has a clear beginning, middle, and end (contrast this with the more repetitive character arcs of the Toa Nuva, who have to learn about the importance of unity several times over before they finally internalize it).

Despite being the protagonist, Vakama has an incredibly erratic and unfocused arc, while Whenua (voiced by Paul Dobson) and Nuju (voiced by Trevor Devall) receive next to no development at all.

This latter statement regarding Whenua and Nuju is true, but I don’t think it works as a criticism of the film, which is clearly meant to focus on Vakama, Lhikan, the Matoran, and the Makuta. Rarely does a film with an ensemble cast give a complete arc to every single character, and if it keeps the film more focused, that’s a good thing.

And whereas the antagonistic Makuta had a consistent, threatening presence in Mask of Light, he's an absolute joke here.

He eats people in this movie!

However, much like Mask of Light, Legends of Metru Nui maintains the problem of poor editing to the point of being laughably bad. There are transitions and cuts that make absolutely no sense. The movie struggles to let scenes settle and develop, with many in the middle lasting no longer than a minute, which is extremely jarring to watch.

Alright, I’ll give you this one — the editing could stand to be a bit more polished. It’s a film that’s trying to juggle quite a few plot threads, though, so I think its ambition makes its editing shortcomings forgivable.

For example, in the comics, writer Greg Farshtey explains why Vakama experiences visions of the future. But in the film, there's no explanation for this at all, making it seem like Vakama has clairvoyant powers out of nowhere (not that his vision [sic] do anything substantial in the film).

This is an extremely odd comment, because it’s just not true on either count. Vakama’s visions are never explained in the comics, but they are explained in the film, barely fifteen minutes in: “Visions can be a sign of madness, yes, or messages from the Great Spirit.”

The claim that Vakama’s visions contribute nothing substantial to the film is also objectively false, since his visions are what compels the team to go after the Great Disks, from which Vakama crafts the Mask of Time.

There are plenty of other small lines and instances that ignore the continuity, like Whenua commenting on how he went from being a Matoran archivist to a Toa fugitive in a day. That's obviously not how it works -- the disk hunt alone takes a while in both the comics and the film, so Whenua's statement makes no sense.

Whenua’s line is, “When I woke up, all I worried about was cataloging.” He does not explicitly claim to have been a Matoran when he woke up. All this line does is show that Whenua thought he’d be able to return to his life as an archivist now that the Morbuzakh and Krahka had both been defeated.

Of course, nowadays, many Bionicle lore scribes have properly allotted the film in the larger Bionicle timeline. But at the time of release, it felt like Legends of Metru Nui was blatantly going against everything that was already happening in the canon, which was upsetting and/or painful to watch.

Do you have a source confirming that fans felt this way at the time? As I briefly discussed earlier, this article is filled with implications that BIONICLE fans in general feel the same way about Legends of Metru Nui that you do (this is even made explicit in the title), but none of these implications are backed up, and this is simply not the case.

For the true fans out there, revisit this film if you want. Just don't expect anything special.

I watched it just the other day and had a great time! And the last time I hosted a stream of it, we all had a great time! And this brings me back to the core issue with this article: the baseless claim, in both the title and contents, that BIONICLE fans generally dislike Legends of Metru Nui. Perhaps it’s odd to write a response like this for what’s probably a pretty harmless article. Perhaps it’s an overreaction. But to see a huge site like CBR publish an article like this, that's not just full of factual inaccuracies, but also misrepresents the feelings of most of this community, is upsetting. To ascribe this kind of negativity to a generally friendly community, a community that so genuinely loves what we love, flaws and all, for some clickbait ad revenue… is upsetting.

#BIONICLE

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millennialincantations · 4 years

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Hexing the Moon is Not a Thing

I have been hesitant to weigh in on the on the controversy surrounding the rumors that witches are out there hexing the Fae and the moon, but as this story is making its way into national news media, I feel that silence is no longer appropriate. I am aware that people reading this are likely to disagree with me, or perhaps even become offended by my take on the situation, but I am willing to take that risk in an attempt to be a voice of reason.

The gist of this story is that allegedly groups of neophyte witches are organizing on the social media platform TikTok and attempting to cast harmful spells on the Fae and the moon, the actual moon orbiting the Earth, and allegedly the sun is next. I was very deliberate in calling this a rumor in my opening statement. After a lot of research, I have been unable to find a lot of evidence that this is really going on. I've managed to find two TikTok users claiming to be hexing the moon, both with only around 1000 followers, and both of them have posted videos that are very clearly jokes and/or trolling. And I'll be honest, they were kind of funny.

I'm open to any contradicting evidence anyone is willing to provide me, but at this point I believe that this alleged group of witches hexing the Fae and the moon is nothing more than a rumor, a prank, or an internet troll scheme that has been blown completely out of proportion. I have seen so many angry reactions to the idea that this may be happening and simply not enough proof to believe it is actually happening. Did the rumor originate from an actual event? Probably. Is there a kernel of truth here? Maybe. Is there a widespread conspiracy of witches hexing mythological creatures and celestial bodies? Doubt it.

The story seemed to explode when a Twitter user claimed that these hexes were occurring and their tweet went viral. I've read the entire tweet, and while it was heavily laden with definitions and dire consequences, what it lacked was a shred of evidence, a single source, or any clue as to where someone might look to see proof of these hexes and this community of young maleficars. However in spite of this, it created a wave of anger and panic that has spread across all social media platforms and inspired many witches to create some very emotional responses.

Here is why I have a problem with all of this. Reactionary emotional responses, especially ones of anger, based on baseless rumors, have a tendency to make us all look foolish. And I sincerely feel that the global witch community is being made to look foolish right now. I will now thoroughly explain why.

I am going to begin with the obvious ageist and anti-novice dialogue this has inspired. I have purposefully avoided using the term “baby witch” until now, because I find it pretty offensive. I probably don't need to tell you that every story about this starts with a headline similar to “baby witches hex the moon.” “Baby witches” are the ones to blame, and “baby witches” are being vilified right now. In general, putting the word “baby” in front of another title serves to be diminutive, to express that while you and this person may share an identity, you are clearly superior to them. Using titles this way is infantilizing and demeaning. It suggests that while this person may be an adult, they are helpless, irrational, naive, stupid, and so on. There is nothing wrong with being a younger witch or a person who is new to the spiritual path of witchcraft. There is absolutely something wrong with taking a rumor as an excuse to release prejudicial venom against young and/or inexperienced people all across the internet.

Few of us were lucky enough to be born into witchcraft families. Many of us found witchcraft as a spiritual solace after escaping religious systems that oppressed us. Engaging in any kind of dialogue that makes witchcraft seem hostile to the young or new people who need it is simply not good form, and in my opinion, unethical. And let me remind any witches reading this that you most likely did or thought some pretty stupid things when you were new to witchcraft. I know I did.

Calling the subjects of this rumor “TikTok witches” serves nearly the same purpose as calling them “baby witches.” It's well known that as a newer and more complicated platform, TikTok is most popular with younger and more tech savvy users. Referring to someone as a “TikTok witch” not only makes an assumption about their age and level of experience, but also serves to denigrate their practice into an aesthetic rather than an identity. I am very active in the Facebook witch community, but I would never describe myself as a “Facebook witch,” because the sum of my spiritual path is much more than what I post and comment. My life as a witch is so much more than anything I do on the internet, and the same is true for most people, period.

Now I'd like to move on the statements I keep seeing regarding the supposed victims of the alleged hex. The Fae are not a large part of my practice, so I will not speak on them as much. My sister used to claim as a teenager that faeries would hide her things and that's why she could never find them. I thought this was just a dumb excuse until one day she dropped her camera memory card on the floor right in front of me, and it just disappeared. We tore her room apart looking for that thing, and I found it days later hidden between the pages of my journal. Let's just say, I've been socially distancing from the Fae ever since.

Hexing the entire Fae is kind of a ridiculous notion because that word has so many different connotations and denotations to so many different people that depending on who you ask you couldn't even really nail down a concrete definition of who and what they are, and some witches don't believe they're real at all. And if I were a Fae, I imagine I'd like it that way. It's a more common belief among witches that casting a spell requires knowledge and focus, and that doesn't really compute with attempting to target an ambiguous crowd of whatever the hell they are who might be, well, somewhere. As Willow Rosenberg (Buffy) would have said, “It's like trying to hit a puppy by throwing a live bee at it.” Anyway, I think the Fae are probably fine.

Now let's talk about the moon. So the moon is real, definitely. I've seen it. And the moon is gonna be fine. I'm less concerned with explaining why the moon will be fine and more concerned with unpacking some of the things I've heard about the moon being in peril. In the case of both the Fae and the moon, I've seen many impassioned pleas for witches to join together and combat this hex by using the magick to bless the Fae and the moon instead. Now, like I've said, I'm not super worried about the Fae, but I'm really really really not worried about the moon. Witches often leave water and objects under moonlight to bless and purify them, but now we're expected to believe that a hex can travel 238,900 miles through that same moonlight and still have the juice to do some damage. Really, its gonna be fine.

What this amounts to is a cry for an online holy war, witches versus witches, duking it out on their altars and cell phones for the fate of the moon. And while that might make for a pretty bitchin D&D campaign, it is an absolutely ludicrous waste of energy given the real world problems we are facing right now. Witches please, if you are feeling compelled to do a spell to help the world right now, hex the secret police in Portland, hex the fascist elements in government, hex the damn coronavirus, bless the protesters, bless election security, BLESS RUTH BADER GINSBURG! But please reconsider spending your effort playing tug of war with a celestial body that is most definitely totally going to be fine.

The three most concerning claims I have seen about how this hex against the moon will affect us are as follows:

1.) “The moon rules emotions, so hexing the moon will have a negative effect on all our emotions.” Yeah, um, that's probably got more to do with the horror survival game that is 2020, which I think we can all agree has not been anyone's year. Placing the state of our emotions under the control of strangers on the internet is a classic case of blame avoidance, in which we feel justified in our reckless actions and emotional outbursts by claiming it is not our fault or out of our control. Contrarily, a common tenet of much of witchcraft is control of the self. Such behavior is very unbecoming of anyone bearing the mantle of the witch.

2.) “Hexing the moon has angered the moon goddess Artemis, and this has angered her brother Apollo—who rules over medicine—and now we will never recover from the coronavirus.” Wow, that's a lot to unpack. First of all, are Artemis and Apollo really that close? Because he totally tricked her into killing her BF Orion that one time. Second, not everyone believes in the same deities, and not everyone believes in gods at all. Telling someone we're all gonna die of COVID-19 because of a god they don't believe in does not make anyone look smart. Third, this argument places the outcome of the pandemic in the hands of religion instead of where it belongs, which is in the hands of science. Witches, please, you can believe in science and faith and magick all at the same time, and it's something we all really need to start doing. Fourth, and most definitely worst, blaming sickness and plague on the spells of witches is something witch hunters did back when it was commonplace to murder people for witchcraft, and now we are actually seeing this claim come from other witches! Gah! I can't even. Please stop.

3.) “This or that moon goddess is mad and is going to retaliate by taking magick away from all witches.” I really just want to drop that GIF of Krysten Ritter rolling her eyes right here. Let's revisit the part where not all witches believe in the same deities and some don't believe in them at all. Now let's remind ourselves that magick comes from within, and while we may draw strength from outside sources, we don't need anything other than ourselves to perform witchcraft. I could never possibly believe that an action taken by another person I've never met could make me less of a witch. That smacks of fundamental insecurity in one's beliefs.

At this point, this story has been picked up by several major media companies, including Buzzfeed, NPR, Cosmopolitan, Rolling Stone, and several others. While I do think it's important for stories about real life witches to be covered in the media, I am not proud of this moment of exposure. Every story I read seems to go back to the original Twitter thread as their primary source, which as I've explained, is not sufficient evidence. This story has become more about the global visceral reactions witches are having online, and while those feelings and interactions are certainly real, it disturbs me that the witch community is making huge news by essentially throwing tantrums based on what is probably a lie.

Witches are not featured in major media very often, and when we are it is typically characterized by gross misinformation. I fear that we are currently fueling a fire that will only serve to make witches look ridiculous to a large number of people outside our community. And while I think we all have a healthy touch of “I don't care what you think about me,” it would be irresponsible to say that this will not have actual consequences for real people. As witchcraft is a practice and not necessarily a religion, it has little in the way anti-discrimination protections for anyone anywhere, and witches are still very much minorities. People who are brave enough to live openly as witches may face discrimination in employment, housing, service, and various other things if this story sways public opinion in a negative way, which would be a real shame considering the story is basically a sham.

This story has unique potential to damage the way witches are perceived in society because, while the story is fueled by backlash from witches are most certainly not hexing the moon, the witches doing the hexing are the headline. In this era, it is more common for people to assume a story from a headline rather than read an entire article, and so I fear the general impression people are getting is that witches are unfathomable children who really want the moon to fall out of the sky. And for those who actually read the articles, their first impression of witches very well may be the frustrated rantings of those of us who are not at our best right now.

In addition, this story subverts the historical meaning of the practice of hexing into a petty malicious act done out of boredom. The actual history of hexing stems from one common theme: the powerless trying to find a way to fight back against the powerful. This is why so many hexes have to do with women seeking revenge on abusive men. This is why witches have recently been discussed in the media for doing mass binding spells on President Trump and a mass hex on Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh—which, controversial as they may be, these are stories I am actually proud of. So witches reading this, if you really wanna put a hex on something, let's target someone who really deserves it.

And if you think I'm referring to Betsy DeVos, well, I can't stop you from coming to that conclusion.

I do have one final remark, which is somewhat unrelated, but still important. If you are a witch who has found yourself deeply offended by the notion of hexing the moon (which you have every right to feel), I would invite you to please consider the feelings of indigenous people who have long been offended by the misappropriations of their culture, by their sacred acts being used and portrayed in ways they do not like or approve of. I think many of them have often felt the same way that you do now, except in their case, there's a lot more evidence the transgression actually occurred.

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marvolord · 5 years

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I’ve put your submitted post under the read more, so it will be easier to read on here

and to reply to your text, you would be surprised if you knew how common it is that those who committed a crime offer themselves as witnesses etc in order to a) keep up with the status of the investigation, b) to seem not guilty. So that is no indication of whether Lee Seunghyun is guilty or not

just because the Police does not state what they have found is also no indication on whether he is giulty or not, I am personally unfamiliar with the police stating step by step what evidence they have and who their suspects are, which would also be not very intelligent since this is a crime ring we are talking about with political figures as well as a police chief involved.

there seemed to have been misinformation yes, but let’s not stop believeing the media altogether. you seem to distrust the news and have also linked the girl that offered top a joint to the situation which in all honesty borders on a conspiracy theory, we have to believe someone or we will misinterpret everything until we see it the way we want

Lee Seunghyun’s lawyer said they had given an interview to a press media but did not specify which one, which is odd in my opinion

also, Lee Seunghyun’s explanation to the ‘police chief’ comments in the chat (which were real) was that they had been simply bluffing and he lied about all the money. And that right there could easily be a self-serving declaration, which is a) allowed in court, b) common. and please note that he was aware and part of the chats otherwise such a statement would not make sense.

And anon, that was in no way a normal way to talk about those women, it is not normal to look for a nice woman who you then treat like a sister that is complete Bullshit

and to be honest your last 2 sentences sum it all up: that was your opinion, no proof whatsoever. It is an ongoing investigation and that the police is not openly sharing their evidence is normal. The other guys who were ‘found guilty’ actually admitted their crimes.

Hello, different anon. I just saw the masterlist you just reblogged and I wanted to inform you that it is actually full of inaccuracies and miss many things.

I have been following the case very closely on twitter so I want to correct what that post is reporting wrongly and missing.

I have to submit this as a post because it will be long.

First of all, Mr Kim. Kim Sang Kyo

He indeed claimed that he was trying to protect a woman from being sexual assaulted and that for that he was beaten by the security/police (the reports vary on this point) but actually it came out later that the guy was indeed an assaulter himself as claimed by four women.

(Also, one of the many screenshot that were around showed mr Kim talking with BS CEO and saying “I will take you down using Seungri’s name.” Keep that in mind for it will be relevant later)

Here is the petition to investigate him: https://t.co/ecEhmGmKhs

The video of the girl “being pulled away for being assaulted by security” was actually a video of a female costumer that was drunk and was causing problem in the local, stealing drinks from other tables and bothering other people. Security had to bring her out forcefully as she didn’t want to leave and while doing that she broke a computer.

She acknowledged the fact and confirmed that she was very drunk and causing problems and apologized in an instagram post for her behavior.

Seungri was never a suspect in the first place, he went to the police station for answering questions to help police dig into the situation and to submit samples for the drug test that came out negative.

YG shredding documents was just a regular thing that happens every month/every two months. Noone was trying to cover proofs, it was just regular business. Also, the police never found links between YG and what happened in BS so they didn’t see why this became an issue.

Seungri was made a suspect on his own request, so to accelerate the investigations.

Now the chats.

There are different chats.

Seungri’s and JJY’s.

First thing to clarify is that Seungri WASN’T in the chat where JJY shared his illegal videos of women. Police never confirmed it as they said yesterday 21/03/19 (https://twitter.com/RiTaeDaeGTOP/status/1108668237607329792). It was all a baseless rumor and fruit of manipulation of the screenshot by SBS (that already confirmed to have been manipulated other screenshots to make them look like group chat when actually were 1:1 chat.)

The police confirmed the EXISTENCE of the group chats and so that they weren’t fabricated, meaning the people in them indeed talked but never confirmed that the messages in them were as the screenshots showed.

New informations were retrieved from JJY’s phone and after that he admitted to have shared the videos and other people in the chat admitted to have seen them so everyone just assumed that the messages were indeed as showed by various reporters.

But, as I said, the Police never confirmed Seungri’s presence in the chat with the molka videos.

Seungri’s chats that were around accused him only of prostitution. That’s what he has been charged of with the alleged gambling and tax evasion.

The prostitution accuse though have been fallen piece by piece as new development came out:

- The police has questioned two women identified in the chat of December 2015 but they denied the allegation. They said they were indeed present but there was nothing like prostitution, they were just there to entertain the investors (NOT in a sexual way). They are called “mulge”, someone attractive in a club to attract guests. (https://twitter.com/RiTaeDaeGTOP/status/1107751725987975168)(https://twitter.com/RiTaeDaeGTOP/status/1107751732786970624 )

The article (Soompi) though also said that police had evidence about the accusation of prostitution but again today 21/03/2019 the police itself denied it. (https://twitter.com/RiTaeDaeGTOP/status/1108668237607329792)

- Seungri and his lawyer via Sisa Journal showed actual photos (NOT screenshots that can be manipulated) of Seungri’s phone that showed the real conversation with CEO Kim. In this conversation CEO Kim told Seungri he was going to Indonesia and meet the king and wanted a woman to accompany him. CEO Kim clarified in the chat with Seungri that he wasn’t asking for a sexual escort but just company.

CEO Kim actual words as translated by @/modeMichellers on Twitter: “for your reference, I don’t have the time to date with woman, I don’t have the interest to do so, I’ll just treat them as little sister, I plan to bring them to join my friend’s gatherings. (https://twitter.com/modeMichellers/status/1108452963381583872)(twitter.com/RiTaeDaeGTOP/status/1108668073622552578?s=19)

In the end, anyway, CEO Kim went to Indonesia without any woman but with Seungri himself.

Also, the screenshot about this conversation that were first reported were faked by CEO Kim to blackmail Seungri since he (SR) invested 2 billion won in Kim and never got it back. Same thing happened with Shin Eusung back in Janury 2016. The singer got 2 billion won from Seungri and then disappeared. Seungri filed an injunction against her but then retrieved it as the two finally made contact and Shin returned the money to Seungri. (https://twitter.com/GottaTalk2V1212/status/1108003303248420864

- SBS itself said they couldn’t be sure about the screenshot related to Seungri’s accusations.

- Another story of prostitution actually was Seungri searching for female companion for his female Singaporean friend (that’s very close to him) that at the time was in Seoul alone. Since he couldn’t be there to keep her company himself he searched other females to do so. (twitter.com/RiTaeDaeGTOP/status/1108668073622552578?s=19)

Seungri and his lawyer addressed the gambling part always in the interview via Sisa Journal saying he never gambled abroad in Las Vegas with CEO Kim.

The police has investigated on this point and again came out with nothing.

As for the tax evasion in Monkey Museum: KBS reported that Seungri was aware that reporting the club as a “retail store” could have been legally problematic BUT it was established last month by a Gangnam district rep that there weren’t violations. (bit.ly/2UPjDfh)

And again I want to underlying that yesterday 21/03/2019 police stated that they don’t have any evidences to back up any of the allegation made against Seungri. (https://twitter.com/RiTaeDaeGTOP/status/1108668237607329792)

The only thing they could came out with was that he wore a police uniform as a Halloween costume back in 2014 as it is illegal to impersonate a public officer and could lead to a fine up till 15 mil won. Today Police confirmed that the uniform was indeed a costume, having found the store that sold it, so also this accuse should have been taken down.

In the end, it actually seems Seungri is innocent as of now.

Now, I want to put light on some things that are suspicious about his case:

- Seungri asked himself to be investigated and to be made a suspect. A guilty person usually wouldn’t do that.

- He has been investigated for two months and questioned by police for a total of almost 24h and always claimed himself innocent and police haven’t found anything on him in all this time while with JJY the proofs were found and he was named guilty in around a week. This should make you reflect.

- When Seungri went to be investigated the second time, after 16 hours of questioning, his lawyer confronted the media and said that they (he and Seungri) had released their part of the story days prior with a leading press media that asked for it but that press media choose not to publish for some reasons. (https://twitter.com/RiTaeDaeGTOP/status/1106616423470776332)

- Many reporters (including Soompi from which that masterlist mostly take sources from) had lied in regard of things Seungri and Police said. They claimed Seungri apologized and said he didn’t submit his phone to the police when actually he didn’t apologize and said he submitted his phone. They said the Police had proofs against him when actually they didn’t. Between this proof was that a secure source (that though didn’t know neither the place nor the time) informed police that Seungri did Coke and so the police wanted to conduct another drug test on him. This “secure information” came out after Seungri did TWO drug tests already (one after because of BS and another for the report of him inhaling from a “happy balloon” at a party) and both came out negative. So I wouldn’t believe at everything they say (also for reasons that I will explain in a bit).

- Seungri was and is used as face for every articles regarding the case, even for those one that didn’t talk about him at all.

- Seungri has been accuse of various things that still don’t have real proofs and was treated as a criminal for just allegations while real criminal Kim Sang Kyo that assaulted 4 women is still free and even went on tv crying like a baby because he was sorry for all the situation that was happening (and not for his crimes).

Always about Kim SK: as I said, he said in a conversation with one of BS CEO “I will take you down using Seungri’s name.”; in a recent post on Instagram that seems to show him in England, he posted a photo of an english newspaper discussing the “Burning Sun Gate” with a photo of Seungri, under it Kim wrote “Impossible. He will never win.” Also, it seems that Han Seohee, the girl related to Seunghyun’s 2016 case follows Kim on instagram. All things are kinda strange if you think of it.

- Seungri tested negative two times for drug usage but still reporter said police wanted to investigate him again meanwhile CEO Moonho of BS tested positive to drugs but he hasn’t been arrested yet.

Other VERY IMPORTANT things you have to know:

Right now S. Korea is facing other big scandals:

- The 10 years old suicide of actress Jang Jayeon. The case resurfaced as it was going into prescription but thanks to a petition online president Moon approved the reopening and continuation of it.

She committed suicide after leaving a letter where she revealed that her company forced her to sexually entertain 31 high-profile entertainment figures and journalists.

Between this people seem to be CEO of Chosun Journal Bang Sanghoon, Vice-President of Sport Chosun Bang Myunghoon, Chosun Central Journal’s Director of Advertising – Lee Jaeyoung, Chairmain of Kolon Lee Woongryeol, Chairman of Lotte Shin Kyukho, Former KBS PD, CEO of Olive 9 Go Daehwa, Producer of KBS’s “All My Love” Jun Changgeun. Producer for KBS, MBC, SBS Jung Seho, Producer for KBS’s “Boys Over Flowers” Jun Gisang and Broadcasting/Music PD of “Payfull Kiss, Boys Over Flowers”, “Perfect Couple”, “Goong” Song Byungjoon.

As you see Chosun Journal (that particularly targeted Seungri after the reopen of the case), KBS, MBC and SBS have people allegedly involved in this case.

Also this same TV News have been focusing on BigBang in general lately bringing out again Jiyong’s “special treatment” and also Seunghyun “special treatment” for their sick leaves. The one regarding Seunghyun is particular upsetting as the reporters followed him inside his work place, filmed him and forced him to talk with them and to admit about his panic disorder. They also went so far to go to the clinic where Seunghyun is being treated to look at his clinical documents. (https://twitter.com/yangjinman0819/status/1108780964749008896 )

- Another scandal that seems to be reopening is that of a former minister, Kim Hakeui, accused of rape, receiving sexual favours, bribery and narcotics who has been cleared by prosecution twice despite clear recorded evidence of him and other official drugging and raping over 30 women in a villa in some ‘orgy/banquet’.

Both crimes involve high figures of the korean society and given the whole situation (the media continuous lies) seem that BigBang (Seungri included) are being used to cover them.

This is just an opinion but it’s shared also between other korean reporters that have no deal with those cases.

In the end, I advice you to look up Fresh Illumi that is a south korean lawyer that is following the case and providing his point of view about the news in english

#seungri #lee seunghyun #burning sun #burning sun scandal #jjy #the read more button did not work so im reposting it #submission #anon #replies

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ciaossu-imagines · 5 years

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Can I ask for a platonic match-up, this time to get a girl as my friend? :)

Of course you can! I hope you enjoy - I absolutely love doing platonic matches so this was a real treat!

In my humble opinion, your female best friend in KHR would be DANIELA!

Daniela intimidates a lot of people and few want to get close to her. When they do, it’s normally only to use her power. Her true friends are few and far between and she’s fairly choosy about who she lets into her life. However, she’s never once felt threatened or used in your friendship with her, never once felt like you were simply after her protection or power. Daniela is a good judge of character and has a knack for correctly reading people and she really does see you quite well and knows that you are as loyal a friend to her as she is to you.

Daniela isn’t able to drop her guard very often, to lower the public persona of Vongola Boss that she shows most of the world at large. There’s only a handful of people she’ll really feel comfortable just being herself with, people she’ll feel comfortable talking to honestly and confiding in. Outside of her Guardians (and even then, she doesn’t fully trust all of them), there’s maybe two or three people and of them, you’re her chosen ear to whisper in, her chosen companion for adventures and games. Your calm demeanor makes it easy to talk to you and with as honest as you are, she knows you’ll keep her secrets. You’re so observant, especially when it comes to people you spend a fair bit of time around, and you’ll usually even be able to tell when she’s keeping something inside that she needs to talk about and you always seem to pick the right moment to be there for her.

The two of you will have become friends in early childhood. Though she was always being groomed to be the boss, before Daniela was actually Vongola Ottavo, she had a bit more leeway in how she behaved. A tomboy and a bit of a hellion, the brash, confident Daniela was at complete odds with the quiet, almost fade in the background you. The two of you were never people that others would consider becoming such good friends. You didn’t even think you’d become friends with her. But she saved you from bullies one day when you were children and boldly stated that you were going to come and play with her and be her friend. If you were her friend, after all, the bullies wouldn’t bother you and besides, she was bored and nobody wanted to play with her (she tended to scare most of the other children away). Her loud and confident personality may have overshadowed yours at points, as much as she tried to avoid that, but it also forced you to come out of your reserved shell quickly and before long the two of you were close friends.

You often played together as kids, spent nights together and had all kinds of fun adventures. Your family was large and you were often left to take care of yourself and Daniela was often left to her own devices, as her father was busy with the Vongola. The both of you had to learn to take care of yourselves from an early age and it really helped bond the two of you. I see the two of you learning to cook together (she was the better cook, you the better baker - she loves your cookies, even as an adult, and will ask you to make her some almost every time she sees you). As kids, the two of you played sports and games with the other neigbourhood children and she always picked you first for her team. The two of you had radio serials that you both loved, comic books that you both huddled over together and she was always amazed and delighted whenever your quick hands drew out a picture from the latest episode of the serial or drew up one of your favourite comic characters for her. Though she’ll have lost some of them, she still has a few of them put aside, even as an adult, just for nostalgia’s sake.

She always thought you were amazingly talented and encouraged you in everything you did. Daniela was always a woman who strongly believes in supporting other women (I personally headcanon that, given that she led the Vongola during World War II, when a lot of the men would’ve been off and fighting, that Daniela used women to fill a lot of the spots in the Vongola and that she probably even had a female Guardian or two). No more so was this evident than in her relationship with you. She was always there to quietly (or not so quietly, when the two of you were kids) support you and to give you the push you needed to do something, especially when you weren’t feeling confident enough to do it yourself. She knows how you fear making the wrong choices in life, how you fear having your life mean nothing and she’ll always make sure you know just how baseless those fears are. After all, even if your life isn’t spectacular, you make the lives of those around you better - your friendship with her matters more than any fancy accolades or awards. She won’t come out and say these things but she’ll let you know, in her own ways, just how much your friendship means. And besides, your life with her around is never boring enough for those fears to have any truth to them. While she won’t let you officially join the Vongola, I could see her using you to help out the organization, hiding members of the resistance groups with you during Germany’s occupation of Italy or even having you watch over her young son as she fought as Vongola boss. That last one was an honor above all - Daniela trusted precious few people with her beloved son.

While Daniela became busier and busier as the two of you grew and you spent less and less time with her, your friendship never faltered. Though the two of you may not see each other every day, you both know your friendship is still there and when you do see each other, it feels natural to just continue on conversations the two of you had been having the last time you saw each other. The two of you will always be friends, will always gossip and have an interest in each others lives, will always trust and support each other. Your kids will grow up together and the two of you will grow old together, even if there are months and months that go by without the two of you seeing each other - it’s simply that kind of friendship.

Runner Up: Adelheid Suzuki

#replies #katekyo hitman reborn #khr #going1582 #platonic match

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patriotsnet · 3 years

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Why Does Fox News Support Republicans

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/why-does-fox-news-support-republicans/

Why Does Fox News Support Republicans

False Claims About The 2020 Election

Alabama columnist: What does support of Moore do to the GOP?

After Trump’s defeat in the 2020 presidential election, Fox News promoted baseless allegations that voting machine company Smartmatic and Dominion Voting Systems had conspired to rig the election for Joe Biden. Hosts Jeanine Pirro, Lou Dobbs and promoted the allegations on their programs on sister network Fox Business. In December 2020, Smartmatic sent a letter to Fox News demanding retractions and threatening legal action. However, Pirro, Dobbs, and Bartiromo refused to issue retractions as they played a three-minute video segment consisting of an interview with an election technology expert who refuted the allegations promoted by the hosts, responding to questions from an unseen and unidentified man. In February 2021, Smartmatic filed a $2.7 billion defamation suit against the network and the three hosts. On March 26, 2021, Dominion filed a $1.6 billion defamation suit against the network. On May 18, 2021, Fox News filed a motion to dismiss the Dominion Voting Systems lawsuit, asserting a First Amendment right “to inform the public about newsworthy allegations of paramount public concern.” A Dominion lawyer said that Fox News dismissal of the lawsuit would give them “blank check” to lie.

Fox News Will Be ‘loyal Opposition’ To Biden Fox Ceo Says

Fox Corp. CEO Lachlan Murdoch said Thursday that it is the job of Fox News to serve as the opposition to the Biden administration, clearly stating the political biases of a network that until 2017 billed itself as “fair and balanced.”

Speaking at a Morgan Stanley investor conference, Murdoch said Fox News stood to benefit from Biden’s presidency because the network would act as “the loyal opposition” to his administration.

“The main beneficiary of the Trump administration from a ratings point of view was MSNBC … and thats because they were the loyal opposition,” Murdoch said of the rival cable network. “Thats what our job is now with the Biden administration, and youll see our ratings really improve from here.”

A spokesperson for NBCUniversal News Group, which includes NBC News and MSNBC, said in response that “our role, and the role of any legitimate news organization whether it includes an ‘opinion section’ or not is to hold power to account, regardless of party.” Comcast NBCUniversal is the parent company of NBC News and MSNBC.

Murdoch’s remark is an on-the-record acknowledgement of something that has long been obvious to fans and critics but never stated so publicly by the executive leadership itself that Fox News is firmly aligned with Republicans and the right and intends to use its platform to fight Democrats.

There Is No Equivalent For The Left

Fox News, especially post Trump, so relentlessly and consistently praises Trump for successes, papers over failures and tries to twist them into successes, and deliberately omits anything they cannot twist. Their only criticism of the Republican party is when they perceive it to be insufficiently loyal to Trump. They talk about their enemies as evil and prize pundits that will drill their opinions of the news into their viewers over actual journalism that informs them of the facts. There isn’t really another side in mainstream media. MSNBC has strayed to the center lately, and the Washington Post, New York Times, and CNN all have a centrist, corporate bent to them, so even if they criticize Trump or Republicans, they do so sincerely, and get upset about the actions of the left just as often. Nothing in mainstream media, not even MSNBC, has ever in history had a leftwing tilt to it like Fox News has a right wing tilt, or non-mainstream sources like the Young Turks have a left-wing one. There is just nothing equivalent to Fox News in size, scope, or depth of partisanship supporting the Democrats. They have several sources that lean in their direction, but none so slavishly devoted to them as Fox News is to Trump and Republicans, and none with such a wide audience.

Submit

You May Like: Who’s Right Democrats Or Republicans

Fox News Channel Responses To Criticism

In June 2004, CEO Roger Ailes responded to some of the criticism with a rebuttal in an online Wall Street Journal editorial, saying that Fox News’ critics intentionally confuse opinion shows such as The O’Reilly Factor with regular news coverage. Ailes stated that Fox News has broken stories harmful to Republicans, offering, “Fox News is the network that broke George W. Bush’s DUI four days before the election” as an example, referring to Bush’s DUI charge in 1976 that had not yet been made public. The DUI story was broken by then-Fox affiliate WPXT in Portland, Maine, although Fox News correspondent Carl Cameron also contributed to the report and, in the words of National Public Radio ombudsman Alicia Shepard, Fox News “sent the story ping-ponging around the nation” by broadcasting WPXT’s coverage. WPXT News Director Kevin Kelly said that he “called Fox News in New York City to see if we were flogging a dead horse” before running the story, and that Fox News confirmed the arrest with the campaign and ran the story shortly after 6 p.m.

Former Fox News personality Eric Burns has suggested in an interview that Fox News “probably gives voice to more conservatives than the other networks. But not at the expense of liberals.” Burns justifies a higher exposure of conservatives by saying that other media often ignore conservatives.

Fox News personalities have also taken part in back and forth disagreements with media personalities such as Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.

Who First Buried The Dead

Anthropologist Donald Brown has studied human cultures and discovered hundreds of features shared by each and every one. Among them, every culture has its own way to honor and mourn the dead.

But who was the first? Humans or another hominin in our ancestral lineage? That answer is difficult because it is shrouded in the fog of our prehistorical past. However, we do have a candidate: Homo naledi.

Several fossils of this extinct hominin were discovered in a cave chamber at the Rising Star Cave system, Cradle of Humankind, South Africa. To access the chamber required a vertical climb, a few tight fits, and much crawling.

This led researchers to believe it unlikely so many individuals ended up there by accident. They also ruled out geological traps like cave-ins. Given the seemingly deliberate placement, some have concluded the chamber served as a Homo naledi graveyard. Others aren’t so sure, and more evidence is needed before we can definitively answer this question.

Read Also: Why Did Republicans Vote Against Equal Pay

Walked A Fine Line: How Fox News Found Itself In An Existential Crisis

The rightwing channel was the first to call Arizona for Biden and Trump and his supporters have been furious ever since

It was about 11.20pm on election night when Fox News made the call. The Democratic candidate had clinched a key swing state, a win that could set them on a path to be president of the United States.

In the Fox News studio, Karl Rove, conservative panelist and longtime Republican strategist, was apoplectic. Around the country, Republican supporters were bereft. Fox News launched an immediate inquisition into its own decision, but the network stood by the call.

Barack Obama had won Ohio, defeating Mitt Romney. Obama would be sworn in as president, for the second time, on 20 January 2013.

Fast forward eight years, and Fox News found itself in a strikingly similar position on 3 November 2020. The rightwing news channel was the first to call Arizona, which has gone blue once in the past 72 years, for Joe Biden.

Donald Trump and his campaign were furious, barraging the network with a series of phone calls in an attempt to get the decision overturned. The presidents supporters were upset too.

At protests outside a vote counting center in Phoenix, Arizona, a crowd chanted: Fox News sucks!, turning their ire on a channel whose hosts Tucker Carlson and Sean Hannity have spent the past four years praising Trumps almost every move or utterance.

That makes the effort to look like a news organization increasingly difficult.

Obama Administration Conflict With Fox News

In September 2009, the Obama administration engaged in a verbal conflict with Fox News. On September 20, President Obama appeared on all the major news networks except Fox News, a snub partially in response to remarks about the president by commentators Glenn Beck and Sean Hannity and general coverage by Fox News with regard to Obama’s health care proposal.Fox News Sunday hostChris Wallace called White House administration officials “crybabies” in response. Following this, a senior Obama adviser told U.S. News that the White House would never get a fair shake from Fox News.

In late September 2009, Obama senior advisor David Axelrod and Fox News founder Roger Ailes met in secret to try to smooth out tensions between the two camps without much success. Two weeks later, White House officials referred to Fox as “not a news network”. Communications director Anita Dunn claimed that, “Fox News often operates as either the research arm or the communications arm of the Republican Party.” President Obama followed with, “If media is operating basically as a talk radio format, then that’s one thing, and if it’s operating as a news outlet, then that’s another,” and then-White House chief of staff Rahm Emanuel stated that it was important “to not have the CNNs and the others in the world basically be led in following FNC.”

Also Check: How Many Republicans Voted For Impeachment

Do Hair And Fingernails Grow After Death

Nope. This is a myth, but one that does have a biological origin.

The reason hair and fingernails don’t grow after death is because new cells can’t be produced. Glucose fuels cell division, and cells require oxygen to break down glucose into cellular energy. Death puts an end to the body’s ability to intake either one.

It also ends the intaking of water, leading to dehydration. As a corpse’s skin desiccates, it pulls away from the fingernails and retracts around the face . Anyone unlucky enough to exhume a corpse could easily mistake these changes as signs of growth.

Interestingly, postmortem hair and fingernail growth provoked lore about vampires and other creatures of the night. When our ancestors dug up fresh corpses and found hair growth and blood spots around mouths , their minds naturally wandered to undeath.

Not that becoming undead is anything we need to worry about today.

Fox News Is The Republican Party

This is why Democrats’ massive spending bill could pass | FOX News Rundown

Trumpism will endure because Murdochs Fox News made that choice on behalf of the Republican Party it commands.

To see what is in front of ones nose, George Orwell wrote, is a constant struggle.

Orwells wise, timeless counsel is often lost on writers who prefer to bury the plain truth beneath a blizzard of distractions and obfuscations.

The tendency of Americas punditocracy to miss the glaring point has, once again, been on grating display in the still smouldering residue of the mad January 6 insurrection on Capitol Hill conceived, planned and executed by thousands of Donald Trumps rabid disciples who were, on cue, unleashed en foaming masse by the former president.

Beyond considering Trumps political future, the punditocracy was seized with debating the existential implications of the deadly mayhem for the Republican Party.

The quick consensus was that a reckoning was certainly in the offing. The Republican Party confronted an inflection point the media-manufactured cliché du jour that required either finally abandoning Trumpism in the wake of the bloody insurrection or continuing to embrace it.

The assumption was that the Republican Party, including its congressional leadership, would make that seminal choice. But who constitutes the Republican Party and its leadership and how would they go about deciding which path to take?

These questions were largely left adrift.

What a chilling prospect.

It is a silly, almost comical, suggestion.

Also Check: Why Do Republicans Say Democrat Party

False Claims About Other Media

CNN’s Jake Tapper

In November 2017, following the 2017 New York City truck attack wherein a terrorist shouted “Allahu Akbar”, Fox News distorted a statement by Jake Tapper to make it appear as if he had said “Allahu Akbar” can be used under the most “beautiful circumstances”. Fox News omitted that Tapper had said the use of “Allahu Akbar” in the terrorist attack was not one of these beautiful circumstances. A headline on FoxNews.com was preceded by a tag reading “OUTRAGEOUS”. The Fox News Twitter account distorted the statement even more, saying “Jake Tapper Says ‘Allahu Akbar’ Is ‘Beautiful’ Right After NYC Terror Attack” in a tweet that was later deleted. Tapper chastised Fox News for choosing to “deliberately lie” and said “there was a time when one could tell the difference between Fox and the nutjobs at Infowars. It’s getting tougher and tougher. Lies are lies.” Tapper had in 2009, while a White House correspondent for ABC News, come to the defense of Fox News when Obama criticized the network for not being a legitimate news organization.

Fox News guest host Jason Chaffetz apologized to Tapper for misrepresenting his statement. After Fox News had deleted the tweet, Sean Hannity repeated the misrepresentation and called Tapper “liberal fake news CNN’s fake Jake Tapper” and mocked his ratings.

The New York Times

Low Gravity And The Troughs

: University of Georgia / NASA / JPL

It has been assumed, says Cheng, that the “troughs are fault-bounded valleys with a distinct scarp on each side that together mark the down-drop of a block of rock.”

However, there is a problem with this theory. It is based on the way rocks and debris behave under the force of gravity on Earth; Vesta’s gravitational pull is far less. Indeed, Dawn found Vesta’s gravity consistent with an iron core having a 140-mile diameter; the Earth’s, by comparison, is about 2,165 miles in diameter.

Cheng notes that “rock can also crack apart and form such troughs, an origin that has not been considered before. Our calculations also show that Vesta’s gravity is not enough to induce surrounding stresses favorable for sliding to occur at shallow depths. Instead, the physics shows that rocks there are favored to crack apart.”

Cheng summarizes, “Taken all together, the overall project provides alternatives to the previously proposed trough origin and geological history of Vesta, results that are also important for understanding similar landforms on other small planetary bodies elsewhere in the solar system.”

So while still consistent with the prevailing theory that the impacts resulted in the troughs, the researchers suggest that they did not cause landslides on Vesta. The impacts cracked it.

Also Check: When Will Republicans Do The Right Thing

Down In The Polls Trump Seeks Familiar Embrace Of Conservative Media

The president considers many Fox News figures among his closest advisers. These include Sean Hannity, Lou Dobbs, Jeanine Pirro and others. He has drawn from the ranks of Fox contributors to fill senior White House appointments and even considered stars for Cabinet positions. And they, in turn, have been ferocious in relaying the president’s baseless claims, winning his frequent appearances on their programs and stratospheric ratings in response.

Earlier this year, Fox News stars helped whip up protests in opposition to shutdowns related to COVID-19 and orders to wear masks. Fox News stars stoked potential scandals involving Biden’s son Hunter based on unauthenticated reports from Murdoch’s New York Post material Fox’s own reporters largely could not validate.

As one small sign of the ways in which Fox and Trump Republicans can orchestrate programming, on Friday evening, NPR reviewed an internal GOP memo sent to top party officials to prepare Republican National Committee Chairwoman Ronna McDaniel for her appearance on Hannity’s show that night. It set out in great specificity the intended flow of the show’s lengthy opening segment including its guests, articles and subjects and the primary points Hannity would make. The two jointly focused on stoking suspicions of voter fraud.

The network stood by its decision desk.

What To Watch For

Trump is reportedly considering launching his own media company to compete with Fox News after he leaves the White House, Axios reported Nov. 12. The offering would reportedly take the form of a subscription-based digital streaming channel online, rather than a pricier cable television network, but Trump aim to replace Fox as his supporters top destination for news, Axios reports.

Don’t Miss: Who Supported The Republicans In The Spanish Civil War

Why Do All The Women On Fox News Look And Dress Alike Republicans Prefer Blondes

From pundits like Ann Coulter to Kellyanne Conway, American rightwingers are a uniform vision of dont scare-the-horses dressing

Why do so many rightwing American women have bottle-blond hair, often worn girlishly long? Im thinking of Kellyanne Conway, Ann Coulter and almost any woman on Fox News.

Jonathan, London N16

Excellent question, Jonathan! I was pondering something similar myself recently while looking through Ivanka Trumps fashion collection on ivankatrump.com, which seems to be one of the only places it is stocked these days. The grimly bland suede pumps, the simpering floral shifts, the just-flirtatious-enough body-skimming little black dresses welcome, people, to death by mainstream feminine. You know how your mother goes on about how you wear too much black/denim/weird stuff, and you cant figure out what the hell it is she expects you to wear? Well, allow me to introduce you to Ivanka Trump. What a shame it seems to be sold almost nowhere these days, as these are the clothes your mother dreams of. Oh well, looks like shell have to put up with you in your awesome Bella Freud jumper and Topshop wide-legged culottes combo for another weekend!

0 notes

statetalks · 3 years

Text

Why Does Fox News Support Republicans

False Claims About The 2020 Election

Alabama columnist: What does support of Moore do to the GOP?

Fox News Will Be ‘loyal Opposition’ To Biden Fox Ceo Says

Speaking at a Morgan Stanley investor conference, Murdoch said Fox News stood to benefit from Biden’s presidency because the network would act as “the loyal opposition” to his administration.

There Is No Equivalent For The Left

Submit

You May Like: Who’s Right Democrats Or Republicans

Fox News Channel Responses To Criticism

Fox News personalities have also taken part in back and forth disagreements with media personalities such as Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.

Who First Buried The Dead

Anthropologist Donald Brown has studied human cultures and discovered hundreds of features shared by each and every one. Among them, every culture has its own way to honor and mourn the dead.

Read Also: Why Did Republicans Vote Against Equal Pay

Walked A Fine Line: How Fox News Found Itself In An Existential Crisis

The rightwing channel was the first to call Arizona for Biden and Trump and his supporters have been furious ever since

It was about 11.20pm on election night when Fox News made the call. The Democratic candidate had clinched a key swing state, a win that could set them on a path to be president of the United States.

Barack Obama had won Ohio, defeating Mitt Romney. Obama would be sworn in as president, for the second time, on 20 January 2013.

Donald Trump and his campaign were furious, barraging the network with a series of phone calls in an attempt to get the decision overturned. The presidents supporters were upset too.

That makes the effort to look like a news organization increasingly difficult.

Obama Administration Conflict With Fox News

Also Check: How Many Republicans Voted For Impeachment

Do Hair And Fingernails Grow After Death

Nope. This is a myth, but one that does have a biological origin.

Not that becoming undead is anything we need to worry about today.

Fox News Is The Republican Party

This is why Democrats’ massive spending bill could pass | FOX News Rundown

Trumpism will endure because Murdochs Fox News made that choice on behalf of the Republican Party it commands.

To see what is in front of ones nose, George Orwell wrote, is a constant struggle.

Orwells wise, timeless counsel is often lost on writers who prefer to bury the plain truth beneath a blizzard of distractions and obfuscations.

Beyond considering Trumps political future, the punditocracy was seized with debating the existential implications of the deadly mayhem for the Republican Party.

These questions were largely left adrift.

What a chilling prospect.

It is a silly, almost comical, suggestion.

Also Check: Why Do Republicans Say Democrat Party

False Claims About Other Media

CNN’s Jake Tapper

The New York Times

Low Gravity And The Troughs

: University of Georgia / NASA / JPL

It has been assumed, says Cheng, that the “troughs are fault-bounded valleys with a distinct scarp on each side that together mark the down-drop of a block of rock.”

So while still consistent with the prevailing theory that the impacts resulted in the troughs, the researchers suggest that they did not cause landslides on Vesta. The impacts cracked it.

Also Check: When Will Republicans Do The Right Thing

Down In The Polls Trump Seeks Familiar Embrace Of Conservative Media

The network stood by its decision desk.

What To Watch For

Don’t Miss: Who Supported The Republicans In The Spanish Civil War

Why Do All The Women On Fox News Look And Dress Alike Republicans Prefer Blondes

From pundits like Ann Coulter to Kellyanne Conway, American rightwingers are a uniform vision of dont scare-the-horses dressing

Why do so many rightwing American women have bottle-blond hair, often worn girlishly long? Im thinking of Kellyanne Conway, Ann Coulter and almost any woman on Fox News.

Jonathan, London N16

source https://www.patriotsnet.com/why-does-fox-news-support-republicans/

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oumakokichi · 6 years

Note

I hear around a lot that Momota is both an hypocrite and extremely loyal to his ideals, I was wondering if you could explain how these two traits can coexist without entering a contradiction

That’s a pretty good question, anon! Walking contradictionsare kind of a recurring theme with ndrv3, I feel. When you have a game whosecentral theme is “truth vs. lies,” there’s going to be a lot of focus on thegap between what people say and what they mean, what defines them as a person,and where their own personal failings lie. Many lies, after all, are ones thatcharacters either tell themselves subconsciously or unintentionally—therebyresulting in many characters who are well-intentioned but nonetheless still somewhathypocritical in their behaviors.

This response will be somewhat twofold, as I feel like partof Momota’s hypocrisy was designed as an intentional character flaw, and partof it was a result more of Kodaka’s mistakes as a writer by failing to address asmany of Momota’s flaws as he should have.

The first part is somewhat easier to put into words: namely,loyalty and hypocrisy are bothintentionally some of Momota’s more noticeable character traits. It’s easy tosee these traits when playing the game: it’s a fact that Momota is quick tostand up for others, even to the point of putting his blind faith in themimmediately.

Not only does he demonstrate this with Maki, most notablywhen he stands up for her in the Chapter 2 trial despite knowing nothing abouther, but also with Kaede in Chapter 1, and with Saihara several times, startingaround Chapter 2. Momota is quick to sort out who his friends and enemies are;when he’s made up his mind that he likes someone, he likes them, and even cold,hard facts can do little to sway his opinion (if Chapter 4 is any evidence ofthat). He bases his decisions on emotion, rather than reason or logic, and thismeans that he’s inclined to stick by how he feels about people, rather thanwhat the facts are saying.

It also means that he’s almost unflinchingly loyal when itcomes to the people he’s decided to call a friend. This isn’t such a surprisingtrait for him to have, given that Momota’s character is intentionally based onthe tropes and characteristics of a “heroic shounen protagonist.” There’s a lotof lampshading of this in the actual game—not only does he call himself “theprotagonist” repeatedly, but even his character design itself alludes to it.The color and design on his shirt is meant to resemble that of a kabuki actor,playing the part of a protagonist.

In just about every shounen series that’s ever been written,themes like unflinching trust and belief in one’s friends and loyalty to one’sown ideals and ambitions are very, very common. Gurren Lagann is perhaps thebest example of this, as Momota’s catchphrase is meant to be a throwback toKamina, who fulfilled a similar role of “inspirational hero” to Simon as Momotadoes to Saihara. Therefore, the fact that Momota is an extremely trusting,loyal, and steadfast individual who doesn’t easily sway from his ideals orbelief in others makes perfect sense—and that stubbornness itself is actually,simultaneously the cause of his hypocrisy, in my opinion.

His unwavering, immovable belief in others is itself adouble-edged sword. As I mentioned earlier, nothing proves this better thanChapter 4. While believing in others and having faith in people is certainly animportant ideal to strive for, ndrv3 makes it very clear that being on theopposite end of paranoia or blind faith can often lead to disasters. Characterslike Kirigiri and Nanami also emphasize in their respective games that trulygetting to know others actually involves doubting them first, in order to trulybe able to rule them out from suspicion. Avoiding that doubt entirely meansskipping a vital step in the process of getting to know someone.

But Momota refuses to recognize that doubt or suspicion arenecessary elements, especially in a killing game that they’ve all been forcedto play. He likes who he likes, and hates who he hates, and absolutely nothingshort of a miracle is ever able to make him change his mind. This is why, evenwhen shown concrete, hard proof that Ouma absolutely couldn’t have murdered Miu in Chapter 4, he still maintains thatOuma must have done it, somehow—because he hates Ouma, and he likes Gonta.Therefore, in his mind, the murder is already “solved” regardless of what theevidence says. Ouma is the “bad guy,” Gonta is the “good guy.”

This hypocrisy of his in deciding things based on rawemotion rather than logic or facts is somewhat brought up by the narrative.Despite the fact that he claimed to want to help Saihara embrace his talent asa detective, it’s also clear in Chapter 4 that the moment Saihara “sides” withsomeone who Momota doesn’t personally agree with (even though Saihara trulydidn’t side with either Ouma or Momota, but tried to find a middle ground), hissupport and encouragement become… well, far more limited.

Even after telling Saihara to believe in himself and his ownreasoning repeatedly ever since Chapter 2, when the end result is somethingtragic or unfortunate (like Gonta being the culprit), Momota doesn’t want tobelieve it at all. He instead switches to telling Saihara to “open his eyes,”questioning his theories and his reliability at almost every point in thetrial. He even goes as far as to threaten to punch him again, because he’s soentirely convinced that his own trust in Gonta is correct and that Saihara mustbe in the wrong this time.

This hypocritical stance is somewhat alluded to andforeshadowed throughout even the earlier parts of Chapter 4, where it becomesevident that Momota is far less comfortable with Saihara actually becomingrelied upon and trusted by the rest of the group. Saihara’s role as the SHSLDetective means that, by Chapter 4, the others are slowly coming to trust himand rely on him—even too much, perhaps, to the point where they aren’t reallythinking or looking for clues on their own, but instead feel that Saihara cansolve the case on his own.

Momota, who up until this point had played the role of theinspirational figure, quoting very Kamina-like lines of “believe in the me whobelieves in you,” looks obviously uncomfortable or goes somewhat silent at mostof these lines from the others in Chapter 4. His FTEs also show that he has atendency to rely on his “sidekicks,” rather than the other way around; he takescredit for most of the accomplishments of others, including politicians, idols,and baseball players. The easiest explanation for this behavior is that inaddition to genuinely wanting to help others improve and better themselves—well,he also wanted the actions of others to reflect well on himself.

Personally, I don’t fault him very much for having thisflaw. This sort of subconscious, unintentional hypocrisy and jealousy issomething that I feel is extremely human. Jealousy is a normal, human reaction,and very often it’s not something we feel intentionally. It’s not impossible tobe a genuinely good friend and want the best for someone while also having moresubconscious, negative emotions. Momota himself admits that this is basicallywhat happened shortly before his execution in Chapter 5. He acknowledges thathe was jealous of Saihara’s talent and the way in which the others were relyingon him, and that it was unfair of him to lash out at him in Chapter 4 the waythat he did.

This covers the range of loyalty and hypocrisy assimultaneous existing traits in Momota’s character. I do think that to someextent, this walking contradiction was something deliberately written andcrafted by Kodaka—after all, it’s very clear that most of Momota’s charisma isbaseless, and that while he’s a genuinely good, inspirational person, he’s alsoincredibly quick to judge, and often fails to think things through. He has nosolid plans in mind most of the time, fails to take facts and evidence intoaccount as they arise, and is very clearly meant to parallel Ouma’s unrelentingparanoia with his own blind faith in the people he likes.

However… I do think that a certain degree of Momota’shypocrisy stems more from Kodaka’s own hypocrisy as a writer, rather than beingincluded as a deliberate character flaw. There are many flaws which Momotaexhibits throughout the game which aren’t actually addressed as flaws at all bythe narrative.

Toxic masculinity is a prime example; many of Momota’s “solutions”to the problems Saihara, Gonta, and Hoshi experience involve the idea of “manningup.” Being emotional or “weak” is seen as “unmanly,” and therefore,undesirable. Crying, feeling depressed or suicidal, and talking about one’sproblems are all seen as signs of “weakness,” and things that a “man shouldn’tdo.” Meanwhile, much of his advice for Maki is the opposite; much of hiscriticism of her is that she’s “not girly enough,” or that she’s “doing thingsa girl shouldn’t do.”

Rather than describing her backstory and the trauma sheendured as something horrible that no human being should ever have to gothrough, much of Momota’s dialogue simply boils down to how “a girl shouldn’tkill people,” or “a girl shouldn’t use deadly weapons.” Even his initial trustin her and decision to “rip off her mask” is because, as he says in Chapter 3, “hejust can’t believe a weak-looking girl like her killed people for a living.”

This makes the entire dynamic between them somewhatfrustrating to watch in later chapters, as a relationship that could easilyhave been about a child soldier coming to view herself as a human being ratherthan a tool is instead shoehorned into a stereotypical narrative about a cold, “unfeeling”girl discovering her “maidenly” side through falling in love.

Unfortunately, this mindset is never once really, trulyaddressed as outdated or flawed by the narrative. Saihara is encouraged tobecome more like Momota, rather than Momota being encouraged to tone down someof his more hyper-masculine ways. When the results for the first ndrv3popularity poll were released in Japan, Kodaka even noted in an interview thathe was surprised Momota didn’t place higher—a pretty clear indication that hedidn’t see much wrong with Momota’s mindset or intend for those aspects of hischaracter to be treated as flaws.

Even more frustrating still, NISA’s localization oftenremoved even these flaws entirely from the game. Much of Momota’s toxicmasculinity was toned down considerably for the localization, resulting inconsiderably tamer dialogue from him. There are two examples I can think of offthe top of my head.

The first is a more well-known one which I’ve discussedbefore: in the original version of the game, in Chapter 2, Momota callsKorekiyo the word “okama,” a word that’s essentially a slur on par with thef-slur or the t-slur, and associated with heavily homophobic/transphobicsentiment. It’s often aimed towards flamboyantly gay men, or trans women, whoare unfortunately seen as “not real women” and are lumped into the samecategory as “gay men.”

It’s frustrating enough that this slur was used for comicrelief in the original version of the game, but the localization doesn’tinclude it at all. Instead, Momota calls Korekiyo “girly,” which doesn’tcapture the same negative sentiment at all. As a gay and trans person myself, I’mpersonally all for removing slurs—the problem is that I’m pretty sure the slurwas removed mostly to improve reception of Momota’s character in the west, rather thanbecause the slur was offensive in the first place. After all, plenty of slurswere added to the localization by other translators (Miu’s being perhaps themost notable, with more than 6 additions of the r-slur that weren’t in theoriginal, and that’s just what I’ve counted so far). And I think it’s worth noting that Momota’s reception in the western fandom has, in fact, been far more positive than it was in Japan.

The second example I can think of is in Momota’s FTEs, whichI translated some time before the localization released. In the final FTE,Momota refers to Saihara’s entire backstory (including his trauma from havingruined a man’s attempts at revenge and sent him to jail) as “kudaranai”—a wordwhich is very noticeably not polite or formal, and often translated as “stupid,”“worthless,” “idiotic,” etc. It’s a very blunt, straightforward assessment,hence why there’s an option in the dialogue for Saihara to get very, very madat Momota and tell him off—but in the localization, “kudaranai” was translatedas “trivial.”

There’s a world of difference between telling someone, “It’sreally stupid for you to be traumatized over something like that,” and “That’sa very trivial thing to be traumatized over.” In fact, the localization’sphrasing was so absurdly polite that it actually made Saihara’s angry responseseem like a drastic overreaction, rather than something justified. This is notthe only time Momota’s dialogue was shifted to seem far more polite or lessblunt, but simply one that I remember stuck the most with me, as I hadtranslated those FTEs myself and therefore remembered very well what kinds ofdialogue Momota used in the original Japanese.

These flaws, both with the original writing and thelocalization, result in Momota having a few very noticeable flaws to hischaracter which aren’t ever actually brought up by the other characters or questioned.Given that Momota’s role in the story is meant to be heroic, inspirational, anduplifting to Saihara and Maki (two out of three of the survivors), this meansthat many of his more serious flaws are somewhat brushed under the rug by theend in order to remember him better as the sort of grand, larger-than-life herohe wanted to go out as.

This is what therefore results in a sense of hypocrisy abouthis character and role within the story. While it’s true that hypocrisy is oneof his actual character traits, it’s also true that it wasn’t exactly handledas a flaw or called out in the same way that it would’ve been for a lesscentral, heroic figure to the plot. Even his jealousy of Saihara, which Imentioned was addressed near the tail end of Chapter 5, is especiallyhandwaved, and only brought up within the last few minutes of the post-trial.

None of this is to say that Momota isn’t a good character,of course! He’s extremely important to the plot of ndrv3, and I don’t thinkthere’s any denying that he’s a good person inclined to seek out the best inothers and inspire them. All of his positive traits are definitely there:loyalty, ambition, and unwavering faith in his friends. But it’s also true thathypocrisy is a very recurring theme with his character—both within thenarrative and outside of it, from the standpoint of Kodaka as a writer simplyfailing to call out or address certain character flaws.

This has gotten pretty long, so I’ll stop for now, but Ihope I could help answer your question, anon! Thank you for stopping by!

#ndrv3 #drv3 #new danganronpa v3 #kaito momota #momota kaito #ndrv3 spoilers //#my meta #okay to reblog #anonymous

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badgersprite · 6 years

Text

Fic: Desiderata (2/?)

Chapter Title: Aftermath

Fandom: Mass Effect

Characters: Miranda, Samara, Oriana, Jacob

Pairing: Miranda/Samara slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers

Story Rating: R

Warnings: Some graphic imagery people may find disturbing, allusions to past child abuse, references to character death.

Chapter Summary: In 2185, Samara joins the crew of the Normandy, and Miranda doesn’t waste time in evaluating her new squadmate. However, Samara soon picks up on the fact that Miranda is distracted by more personal concerns. In 2186, Miranda wakes up to confront the stark reality that awaits her after the war, including the extent of the injuries she suffered in the shuttle crash, and the question of whether anyone else from the Normandy survived.

Author’s Note: From this point on, the story is essentially going to alternate between the present (post-ME3) and ME2, with a few other flashbacks to various relevant points in Miranda’s life interspersed for good measure. Just to clear up any possible confusion, every single Miranda/Samara flashback is taking place in chronological order. All good? No worries!

* * *

A day never went by that Miranda didn’t update The Illusive Man on their status. It was essential that he was kept informed of all material facts at all times. That included any weaknesses Miranda observed in Shepard’s team.

Stopping the Collectors was paramount. Preventing more humans from disappearing was too important to be compromised by anyone. They had to remain on track no matter the cost. Hence, it fell to Miranda to identify whether the very individuals they were recruiting could potentially imperil that.

Fortunately, it seemed their latest acquisition’s integration with the crew was progressing smoothly so far. But that didn’t make her exempt from scrutiny.

Miranda distractedly typed on her datapad as she entered the Starboard Observation Deck, scarcely taking notice of Samara, who sat in the centre of the room with her legs folded beneath her, bathed in a blue biotic glow.

“Jacob told me you’d requested a room with a view,” Miranda said as the doors closed behind her, without raising her head. No thought was spared for whether she might be interrupting Samara’s meditation. That didn’t matter, and it wasn’t her job to care. “I assume this will suffice.”

“Yes,” Samara answered, content. “It is peaceful here.”

“Soundproof walls, for the library,” Miranda offhandedly explained, wishing her room shared the same insulation. Being right next to the mess hall meant she was frequently disturbed by chatter and ambient noise. Genetically enhanced hearing had its drawbacks. “But that’s not pertinent to why I’m here; I’ve nearly finished my mission report to The Illusive Man.”

“You work quickly,” Samara noted, her radiant aura flickering under the light. A shade over three hours had passed since they brought her aboard.

“I work to my ability,” Miranda brushed her comment aside.

In truth, she was running later than she would have liked. Her ordinary routine had been disrupted when she was ordered to sickbay to ensure she wasn’t suffering side-effects from Minagen X3 exposure at the Eclipse hideout.

“I just have a few questions to ask you,” Miranda continued, intent on making up lost time. “Have you seen Kelly Chambers and Doctor Chakwas?”

“Yes, both of them, separately,” said Samara.

“Good.” Miranda checked that off. She would chase them up for their preliminary assessments shortly. By now, they both knew the tight schedule Miranda preferred to operate under, so she didn’t expect they would keep her waiting long. “Do you have any issues working with Cerberus?”

“No,” Samara replied, as still as a statue

“You’re sure?” Miranda pressed, her tone conveying her mild scepticism. Cerberus had been branded a terrorist organisation. She wasn’t familiar with the Justicars and their beliefs but she doubted they looked fondly upon such things.

“I am aware that Cerberus is reputed to have engaged in criminal activity. However, rumours are not evidence. I intend to judge your organisation for myself, not based upon the word of others,” was Samara’s serene response.

“That makes you more reasonable than most,” Miranda remarked. Finally, someone who talked sense.

“Even if I do observe such accounts to be true, it will not interfere. Defending humanity from the Collectors is a noble cause. I could not have allowed myself to join you if my presence could place your mission in jeopardy,” Samara assured her, electing to address Miranda’s justifiable misgivings in their entirety. “I have sworn an oath to Commander Shepard. I am bound to her decisions, and must carry out her orders until I am released from her service.”

“Even if her orders violate your Code?” Miranda queried with an astute quirk of her brow, suspecting that risk factor couldn’t be dismissed out of hand.

“…Yes,” Samara answered without inflection, though her hesitation did not evade Miranda’s shrewd perception. She left that item unmarked, not convinced that she could rely on Samara to remain loyal if such circumstances arose.

“You’re aware that the team we’ve assembled consists of several criminals – assassins, mercenaries, thieves, whatever Jack is,” Miranda commented with casual disregard. She’d long since grown accustomed to the fact that criminal background was one area in which Cerberus didn’t discriminate, though she certainly wouldn’t have complained if they chose to be a little more discerning in future. “If you’re going to work with us, we can’t have any problems.”

“You are asking whether I might pose a danger to those persons, or if I would be tempted to kill them if provoked,” Samara inferred, having anticipated that inquiry. Miranda’s silence confirmed her intent. “I will not.”

“That makes one of us,” Miranda muttered under her breath. They tested her patience sometimes. Samara did not react, maintaining her perfect posture. “Unless you have anything to disclose, that’s all I had to cover.”

“Not at this time. If I become aware of any matter that may affect the mission, you have my word that I will inform you at once,” Samara vowed.

“Glad to hear it,” Miranda approved, holding her to that.

For a woman who had been willing to massacre her way out of a police station a few hours ago, Miranda had to admit Samara was surprisingly easy to deal with. She’d displaced Thane as the quickest, most painless interview to date.

“Do not hesitate to come to me if there is anything else you require,” Samara cordially continued, never changing her tranquil tone of voice. “You will not be imposing. It has been many years since I have worked in concert with others. I would be pleased to lend my assistance wherever I can.”

“I...appreciate that,” Miranda thanked her, an act that did not come naturally to her. She was not in the habit of expressing gratitude; it was a rarity aboard this ship that anyone warranted it. “But I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll leave you to it,” said Miranda, her focus already shifting to the dozen other tasks she had on her plate that she planned on finishing by the end of the day.

“I beg your pardon,” Samara spoke up when Miranda turned to exit, prompting her to pause and glance over her shoulder. “I do not believe you ever told me your name,” Samara pointed out, unoffended by the oversight.

Miranda blinked, quickly scouring her memory before realising that Samara wasn’t lying; she couldn’t remember introducing herself at any point. “Miranda Lawson. Operator of the Lazarus Cell,” she remedied her omission.

“Miranda,” Samara gave a respectful nod of her head, bidding her farewell.

Sensing the conversation was at an end, Miranda returned to her office, paying no attention to anyone else as she passed through the crew deck. She sat down at her desk, transferring her draft report from her datapad to her laptop.

Only one section remained to be finished: Miranda’s personal evaluation of Samara. That involved recording her overall opinion of Samara as a prospective teammate, and disclosing to The Illusive Man whether she perceived any risk factors that might make her a liability in certain circumstances.

Miranda revisited their short conversation, replaying it in her mind as she pondered her analysis. Her fingers rapped rhythmically on the desk, contemplating the sole unresolved question on her checklist.

Could she count on Samara not to stab them all in the back if they failed to adhere to her Code, even if violating it was necessary to save human lives? Nobody else on the ship knew what her Code entailed. It was entirely possible they could break it unwittingly, and that Samara might be compelled to take action against them for even the most innocuous of breaches.

However, Miranda wasn’t about to waste The Illusive Man’s time with baseless speculation. It didn’t assist him to be told of a hypothetical scenario which he had surely already foreseen. That wasn’t why he sought Miranda’s judgement.

Anyone could threaten the mission in theory. What he needed to know was whether that danger existed in reality. And did it? For the first time, Miranda wasn’t sure one way or the other. All she had to go on was Samara’s word, given her own observations of the woman were limited up to that point.

Samara had said that Shepard’s orders took priority over her Code when it came to stopping the Collectors. Normally, Miranda was predisposed towards caution, since it was better to be safe than wind up dead, but, in this case, she didn’t detect any deceit in Samara’s assurances of fealty. She didn’t strike her as a liar, nor as someone who lacked the insight to predict her own behaviour.

After a brief pause, Miranda reached her conclusion: ‘There is no indication that Samara’s subservience to the Justicar Code places our operations in jeopardy or compromises her in the field. I have no concerns about working with her.’

Comfortable with that answer, Miranda allowed her mind to wander as she jotted down a concise closing paragraph. It wasn’t often that she gave her companions aboard the Normandy a second thought, beyond their contributions to the mission. Not even Shepard. But Miranda had to admit, having someone like Samara aboard the ship was a refreshing change of pace.

Frankly Miranda wasn’t used to people being so cooperative with her. It was rare that her instructions weren’t met with some form of antagonism. And, unlike Thane, who was equally polite, Samara didn’t ask irrelevant questions or provide ambiguous answers when a simple yes or no would have sufficed.

Needless to say, Miranda was an excellent judge of character. She trusted her instincts. And, when it came to Samara, her first impressions were largely positive. And why wouldn’t they have been?

Samara was intelligent, composed and rational. Focused. Disciplined. Humble. Courteous. Restrained. Temperate. Dedicated, self-sufficient and competent, with nearly a millennia from which to draw wisdom and insight. And, unlike some asari, she didn’t come off as smug or condescending when interacting with other species. Nothing about her demeanour struck Miranda as false or insincere.

Miranda could respect a woman like that. Those were the sorts of qualities she would have liked to have seen in more of her teammates, given the option.

As if to drive home the point, her reflections were immediately shattered by raucous laughter outside her door. Miranda’s jaw tensed at the nuisance, the latest in a long line of repeated incidents. Her tolerance wore thin. She got up and stepped out into the mess hall to see what the fuss was about.

Several crew were hanging around the table, including Garrus, Donnelly and Joker. Judging from one of the gestures she saw, they seemed to be trading raunchy anecdotes. Miranda folded her arms across her chest, annoyed.

“Am I the only one who does any work around here?” she asked, cutting through the conversation like a knife, attracting several stares. “What are you doing? Why are you all sitting around making arses of yourselves like human colonists aren’t being abducted as we speak?”

“It’s called dinner, Miranda. Have you heard of it?” Garrus wryly remarked. It was hard to tell with turians, but he seemed to be smirking. “Some of us even require it to live. Maybe you don’t.”

“You can’t eat while you work?” said Miranda, ignoring his jibes. That was what she did, and she didn’t make a commotion doing it.

“Actually, no, I can’t,” Joker replied, gingerly adjusting himself in his chair to sit more casually. “EDI would lock me out of flight controls if I worked through a mandatory break. She says it ‘affects my performance.’”

“I just worked my third eighteen hour shift this week,” Donnelly pointed out, mildly intimidated though he was by Miranda. “Err, not that I’m complaining.”

Miranda rolled her eyes, recognising that she couldn’t kick them out, even if they were being disruptive. “Fine. Take your break. But if any of you are still here at one minute past the hour, I’m writing you up,” she warned them, making certain they knew she was serious before returning to her office.

“You know, she’s been on so many field missions lately, I almost forgot what a massive bitch she is,” Joker muttered in an aside.

“Did you also forget water is wet?” was Garrus’s reply, eliciting chuckles.

Miranda didn’t care, sighing in irritation and running a hand through her hair when the door closed. Why couldn’t everyone on this ship do her a favour and collectively agree to never talk again? It wasn’t like it would be any great loss.

Come to think of it, maybe Miranda did have good cause to go back to the Starboard Observation Deck sooner rather than later. If nothing else, at least it was quiet there, and she could probably rely on Samara to keep it that way.

Besides, anything Samara had to say would surely be vastly more interesting than the drivel that most people on this ship had to offer, even if that wasn’t a particularly high threshold to exceed.

* * *

“There's no time! We have to get her to the OR!”

Movement.

Miranda's head spun. Groggy. Flat on her back. Racing. Surrounded. People.

She couldn't open her eyes. Couldn’t breathe. Could barely hear. She tried to tell them, but her lips didn't move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn't ask for help.

Or, maybe she did, but the ringing blocked it out.

“We need intravenous antibiotics, stat. And someone get the ultrasound. We've got to get this medi-gel off.”

Where was she? What was happening?

Confusion clouded her thoughts, faint echoes of memory stirring to the surface. Desperation. Desolation. A crash. A crater. A glow. A glimmer of hope.

Samara. Where was Samara?

“Shit. Her pulse is dropping. We're losing her again.”

The world was creeping further and further into darkness. Slipping away. Diminishing. Fading. Waxing and waning like the phases of the moon, or the ebb and flow of the tide. Threatening to surrender her to eternal silence.

Kuh-hhhhh.

What was that noise?

Kuh-hhhhh.

Her ear was still ringing. Loud. So loud that what little else she could hear sounded like it had been crushed beneath the deepest trenches of the ocean.

But she detected speech. Muffled. Scarcely intelligible.

Kuh-hhhhh.

“We may have been too late. Her system is on the verge of shutting down. Even with a full course of antibiotics, I can't promise her body can fight it off.”

Kuh-hhhhh.

“You don't know her. She’s no ordinary person.”

Kuh-hhhhh.

That voice. Who was he?

Kuh-hhhhh.

“You’ve seen the state we’re in. We don’t have enough resources to spare. We have to make the hard choices. Even if we do keep treating her, her chances of survival are...maybe ten percent, at best. Think of how many other lives—”

“Don’t you dare talk about other lives like they’re already worth more than hers! She’s alive right now, and you’re willing to write her off like she’s as good as dead over a one in ten? No way. You can’t give up on her like that!”

Kuh-hhhhh.

Recognition seemed to dance past the edges of her fingertips. Miranda tried to reach for it, but it eluded her grasp. She fell under the waves, swallowed beneath the surface, adrift, stranded on the sea of shadow.

Kuh-hhhhh.

She couldn’t tell if she was awake or asleep. Everything faded in and out like half-remembered dreams. A million faint drops would coalesce into one constant stream of noise, rushing by so fast that she couldn’t keep up, and yet it seemed to be frozen in place, making it appear as though no time was passing at all.

Kuh-hhhhh.

Her mind filled with fragmented visions that just as swiftly scattered into dust and vanished into thin air. Collectors. Cerberus. The Normandy. The Citadel. Shepard. Her father. Oriana. Niket. Jacob. Samara. The war.

Her entire life. Her past. Her future. Everything she ever could have been.

Memories. Fantasies. Reality. She couldn't distinguish one from the other.

Kuh-hhhhh.

Faces leered at her in the mists. Her team. The ghosts of their demise.

She relived it all in gruesome detail, watching the people she’d led to Earth perish under her command. Unable to intervene. Cursed to lament everything she could have done differently. Powerless to put right her mistakes.

Bright eyes turned to ash, incinerated in flames. Skulls exploded under sniper fire. Flesh and bone burst like grapes beneath rampaging brutes. Viscera poured from gaping holes where banshees impaled their victims, lifting them off the ground, ripping their jaws clean off their skulls while they screamed.

Kuh-hhhhh.

“Ms Lawson! Stop! Don’t leave me!”

She turned and looked back, realising a member of her crew had fallen behind, tripped up by the debris, but it was too late. Husks descended on her like a pack of wild dogs, clawing her limb from limb. They literally tore her apart.

Her harrowing howls marred Miranda’s very soul, emblazoned on her conscience like a branding iron. The ringing in her ear grew louder.

Kuh-hhhhh.

“Help me...” the wounded soldier begged her, clutching at her with the last of his strength, strapped into his seat. “Please. Please help me. Please.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” she told him, knowing it was futile.

“You could have saved me,” he mumbled, his throat gurgling as his hand clamped down on her wrist. His skin began to rot, every inch of his tissue withering and decomposing. Maggots crawled from his eye sockets, wriggling down to his thin, desiccated lips. “You just left me there. Why didn’t you help?”

Miranda had no answer for him.

Kuh-hhhhh.

“Goddess, heed my prayer.” Miranda emerged from her daze, roused by a familiar presence. “Do not call her to your embrace. Not yet. Not now.”

Miranda felt a tender touch on her left arm, below her shoulder. She tried to stir by flexing the tips of her fingers but to no avail. She couldn't move her hand.

Was this real?

Why couldn't she feel her fingers?

Kuh-hhhhh.

“I came to Earth expecting that you had chosen this to be where I met my end, as the rest of my order met theirs on Thessia. Yet here I stand, unscathed, while Miranda...” Samara’s breath faltered, unable to say it. “I do not understand.”

Kuh-hhhhh.

Miranda heard her speak, yet she could barely comprehend the words that left Samara’s lips. It was as if language held no meaning, or she had forgotten how to make sense of it. Her mind felt so heavy inside her head.

Kuh-hhhhh.

“I beseech you: if you must take a life, take mine. I offer it freely, if it would spare hers. My life for her life. My years for her years. Please. For my many sins, I deserve none of your mercy. But...Goddess, if you would grant me any wish, I beg of you, do not take her. She is young, and has so much...”

Samara's voice faltered. Her words failed her. Her hand was trembling.

Kuh-hhhhh.

Miranda tried to take a breath to tell her it was okay, but couldn’t. She couldn’t even swallow. Her throat hurt. Her limbs felt as heavy as lead.

Kuh-hhhhh.

“Why do you do this? For centuries, I have asked you, and yet you never answer my prayers. Why am I spared? Why do you punish those who least deserve it when I am right here? Why do I survive while all around me perish?”

Kuh-hhhhh.

“My daughters. My bondmate. My Order. My friends. So many innocents. They all suffered for my failure. Yet I linger on. Weak. Weary. And for what purpose?”

Kuh-hhhhh.

“It should have been me...It always should have been me...”

Miranda didn’t hear Samara utter anything more.

Her awareness dissipated into the aether, until it was altogether gone. And yet, when it returned, it felt like only the merest blip of a moment had passed.

Kuh-hhhhh.

That strange sound stirred at the fringes of her consciousness.

Kuh-hhhhh.

What on Earth was that? And why wouldn’t it go away?

Kuh-hhhhh.

No. No, this wasn’t right. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t lie there like this.

Kuh-hhhhh.

It all came back to her at once. The shuttle crash. The pilot. The wasteland that stretched on forever, toying with her like a predator toyed with its prey.

Kuh-hhhhh.

Hopelessness. Despair. Death loomed over her, an ever-present spectre, taunting her with the imminence of her own impending doom.

Kuh-hhhhh.

There was no escape. No food. No water. No rest. No relief from the pain.

She wouldn’t last another day. Not like this.

Kuh-hhhhh.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, compelling her not to submit. Not yet. Not now. Not after she had come so far in her desperate fight for survival.

Kuh-hhhhh.

She had to find help. Fast. She would die if she didn’t keep moving. Enough bodies littered the streets to emblazon that harsh fact on her nightmares.

Kuh-hhhhh.

She tried to raise her arm, to no avail. Her cheek twitched, contorting in discomfort. “Nnngh.” Her throat tightened on an obstruction. Was she choking?

Kuh-hhhhh. Kuh-hhhhh.

Instinctively, she resisted, aching to remove the blockage from her windpipe, but her body wouldn’t respond. When her head shifted, it felt like the whole planet collided with the moon, sending her equilibrium spiralling into orbit, unable to gain a sense of balance, of which way was up and which was down.

Kuh-hhhhh. Kuh-hhhhh. Kuh-hhhhh.

Panic mounted in her chest, her heart rate spiking, immobilised, paralysed, unable to break free from what felt like a ten tonne weight on top of her.

Why couldn’t she move? Why couldn’t she breathe?

Kuh-hhhhh. Kuh-hhhhh. Kuh-hhhhh.

“Easy, Miranda,” a voice came to her. A man’s voice. Familiar. Comforting. Someone gently gripped her right hand, as if in a promise that she wasn’t alone. “Take your time. You don’t have to wake up yet.”

“Mmnh....” Her fingers tensed. She couldn’t open her eyelids.

Kuh-hhhhh. Kuh-hhhhh.

“It’s alright,” her nameless vigilant assured her, sensing her distress. “Don’t worry about anything. You’re safe now. And you’re going to be okay.”

Strangely, when he said it with such softness, she believed him.

Kuh-hhhhh.

“I’m right here,” he whispered to her, almost too quiet to hear beneath the ringing that lingered unrelenting in her ear. His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “And I’ll be by your side when you wake up later. I promise.”

Tentative though she was, she allowed her body to relax and sink into the clouds, trusting that someone was watching over her, and wouldn’t let her go.

Kuh-hhhhh.

A sense of peace emanated from her core, chasing away the restlessness.

And then all was still.

Until...

Kuh-hhhhh.

Light.

White light.

Kuh-hhhhh.

Why was it so bright?

Kuh-hhhhh.

That noise was back, but it was fainter now.

Kuh-hhhhh.

Her right eye fluttered open. An indistinguishable haze filled her sight.

Kuh-hhhhh.

She blinked, and blinked again, the blur above her gradually coming into focus.

Kuh-hhhhh.

A ceiling. White walls chipped and degraded, but intact. Beams of sunlight filtered in though a window, maybe ten feet away. It was dim and dull, but it hurt to be met with the rays. Miranda groaned and avoided looking that way until her vision adjusted, keeping her head squarely tilted to the right.

After being on the run from Cerberus, assessing her surroundings was an instinct. It didn't matter that Miranda's skull was pounding; her addled mind figured out exactly where she was almost as soon as she took it in.

She was in a hospital. That didn't take a genius to deduce. A quick glance confirmed that other patients shared this makeshift medical ward. There were eight, including her, crammed into the one room.

There was a drip hooked into her arm, and something was covering her left eye.

Kuh-hhhhh.

Ah. That explained the sound. Three patients had ventilators beside their beds.

Not everyone was comatose, though. She made eye-contact with the patient directly across from her, but he rolled onto his side and went back to sleep, ignoring her. Apparently he wasn’t in the mood to answer her queries.

Miranda wasn't intubated, but there was something attached to her nose. A nasal cannula? A quick touch confirmed her suspicion as correct. Why did she need one of those? She wasn't having any trouble breathing.

She winced, cobwebs and a pulsing headache preventing her mind from operating at full speed as she tried to piece together what had happened. She couldn't remember, or differentiate the memories from the dreams.

Ugh. What time was it? And what day? She couldn't see a clock anywhere.

Miranda attempted to get up, but the only response from her nervous system was pain, which forced her to abandon that idea before she had moved more than a few muscles. Every bone in her body hurt. Some worse than others.

Then it dawned on her.

Visions returned to her in a flood. Her last waking moments emerged from the fog. She remembered Samara gathering her in her arms, rescuing her, like something out of a fantasy.

Miranda inhaled sharply. There was no way that could have been real. The odds of Samara finding her were a million to one. Smaller, actually. But there Miranda lay, in a hospital bed. How could she explain that, if not by Samara’s intervention? By all rights, she should have been dead.

Come to think of it, how was she alive?

Miranda glanced down, keen to evaluate her condition. She hadn't been able to properly examine any of her injuries after the crash, much less tend to them. Still, she was under no illusions about how serious her wounds had been. She didn't imagine the damage to her limbs had miraculously healed overnight.

Her right arm was fine, hooked into a drip and a heart monitor. She couldn't see either of her legs well enough for her liking, what with both of them covered by the blanket, which was a little frustrating. But they seemed okay.

Her left arm was...

Miranda’s eye widened, and her mouth went dry.

She didn't have a left arm. Not anymore. It was cut off above the elbow.

...Oh.

Shaking off her shock, Miranda tried to inspect the amputation site, but her shoulder ached too much to raise even that reduced weight off the bed. The stump at the end of her bicep was wrapped up in a dressing. There were some slight blood stains on the bandages. Leakage. Seepage, from the stitches.

Huh. Well...this was new.

Once she got over her initial stunned reaction, Miranda had to confess that this outcome wasn’t unexpected, given the mangled state her arm had been in before she lost consciousness. It had gone too many days without treatment. For the rest of her injures, it was much harder to predict how bad they might be.

She couldn't hear out of her left ear, or see out of her left eye. A definitive diagnosis as to why would have been preferable. In light of her missing limb, Miranda was braced for the worst. God, her face stung on that side, though.

She reached up to touch her brow, wincing when her fingers met gauze. It covered her eye, her ear, her cheek down to her mouth. That was discouraging.

If there was one thing Miranda detested, it was feeling powerless – like she wasn't in control, and couldn’t do anything to seize it. Being in the dark about the status of her own body? Yeah, that amounted to being out of her comfort zone.

She didn't know a damn thing about where she was or how she'd gotten there or how many days had passed. All she could remember was Samara's voice, and the shape of her silhouette above her as she lifted Miranda up out of the crater.

Was it true? Had Samara really discovered Miranda's broken body? Or was that encounter nothing more than a figment of her imagination as she lay exhausted, on the verge of death? They’d spent a lot of time together on the Normandy, more than any of the others knew. If Miranda was going to conjure up false visions of a saviour, Samara would have been a leading candidate.

Either way, the only thing Miranda was sure of was that she had to get out of that bed as fast as possible. Other mysteries could wait. She had to get back out there. She had to know what kind of world she'd awoken to, and find out if anyone else from the Normandy had escaped the battle with their lives.

Shepard. Jacob. Samara. Everyone. Anyone.

Miranda tensed, her throat tightening on mounting bile and dread.

When they stood together for that photo in Shepard’s apartment, Miranda knew chances were slim that she would live to take another. At most, only a scant few of those faces would remain after the dust settled. It was simple maths.

Miranda had come to Earth certain that she wouldn’t be counted among the lucky ones. It was too much to expect that they’d win, let alone survive. She’d accepted her death long before she ever set foot on the battlefield.

Yet there she was, on the other side of the vanishing point. So many things that should have killed her...somehow hadn’t. She was still here.

But what about the others?

If Miranda was alive, despite the odds, did that mean...?

No. She couldn’t be the only one left. She’d already lost her whole team. She couldn’t go through that again. Not with them. She just...She just couldn’t.

Suddenly, a shadow at the foot of her bed caught her attention.

Miranda turned her head, causing the figure to jump, startled by her movement. A medic stood there, a hand to her heart. Miranda hadn’t heard her enter, thanks to the constant piercing tinnitus that resonated in her right ear.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise you were awake,” said the woman, calming her nerves after that surprise. Miranda scanned the stranger, gauging her. She didn't look like a doctor or nurse, nor a member of the military. A volunteer? “Can you hear me?” the medic asked. A fair question, if she’d been out for a while.

“Yes,” Miranda answered, trailing into a cough. Her voice sounded different, unfamiliar to her. Raspy. Scratchy. Her throat was sore, which indicated a tube must have been inserted recently. It wasn't pleasant. She cleared away the discomfort before continuing. “But you’ll have to speak up. My ear’s ringing.”

It was good to hear herself say that, even if her left side did seem deaf as a post. At least her mental faculties were more intact than her body.

“Wonderful. I'll go and fetch the—“

“Before you say anything else, I need information. Don't interrupt me. Just tell me what I want to know. And keep it concise,” Miranda commanded brusquely, despite her fatigue slowing her speech, determined to gain insight into her current circumstances. That was where Miranda was in her element.

“Uh...okay?” the medic stammered, evidently compelled to comply. Even confined to a hospital bed, Miranda possessed that air of authority that prompted obedience. Good to know she hadn't lost that trait.

“We're still in London, correct?” Miranda ventured, believing it safe to assume they wouldn’t have flown her elsewhere.

“Yes. You're in St. Mary's,” the medic confirmed.

“St...What...?” Miranda wondered if she’d misheard. Bloody hell. Just how short of a distance had she covered in her efforts to crawl away from the crash site?

The medic nodded. “Given the high number of casualties, our first step was to occupy the centre of London and reopen as many medical facilities as we could. For the most part our efforts have paid off.”

“The most part?” Miranda sharply echoed. That was a faint endorsement.

The woman sighed. “In truth, most hospitals are in ruins. The majority of people who need help are out on the street in field hospitals because we're short of beds. But you were a high priority patient. So it’s...lucky you were so unlucky.”

Miranda chose not to respond to that. “How long have I been here?”

“A week, I believe,” the young woman replied. “You've made a remarkable recovery. Given how poorly you were when you arrived...well, the average person who came to us in your condition would have been out far longer,” she said, oblivious to the guarded expression her words elicited.

The average person would have been dead. But Miranda wasn’t average.

Her genetic code gave her the edge. It always did. There was no mistaking that it was the sole reason she had withstood her wounds. Her father’s perpetual legacy. It made it hard to process the appropriate reaction. She couldn’t feel proud, since she couldn’t take credit for it. So was she supposed to feel guilty that other people didn’t have the same undeserved advantages? She didn’t.

Perhaps that ambivalence was why Miranda couldn’t find it in her to form any particular emotional response to her survival at all. Not happy. Not sad.

She didn’t feel anything. It just...

It was what it was.

“Yes, that’s right, your chart says you've been here for eight nights, Ms Lawson,” the medic continued. “I remember when they brought you in. Even a few minutes later and you would have...” She trailed off, evidently reconsidering whether it was wise to disclose that to a patient who might find that news distressing. “All I can say is thank God Justicar Samara found you when she did.”

At her name, Miranda froze.

“What?” she spoke breathlessly, not daring to believe it.

“Justicar Samara,” the woman eagerly repeated. “She's incredible. Her efforts to look for survivors out beyond where anyone else dares to tread have been tireless. Dozens of people owe their lives to her. Hundreds, even.”

“...Including me,” Miranda quietly acknowledged. The medic didn’t address that, but it was etched on her face that that was beyond dispute. "Where is she?”

“Out there, as always,” the medic told her, gesturing to the window, and the destruction beyond. “She said her Code demands that she must not rest while she is capable of averting the suffering of innocents. Or words to that effect.”

A relieved smile slowly unfurled across Miranda’s lips, all lingering incredulity evaporating. Yep. That was definitely Samara.

Miranda was a woman of facts, not emotions, but words couldn’t describe how she felt then, rendered speechless to realise that it hadn’t been a dream. It was confirmed. Samara was alive. Miranda wasn't alone.

Honestly, that meant far more to her than her own survival ever would. It wasn’t even close. Miranda couldn’t be happy for own sake. But for Samara? For her friend? Bloody oath, she could. And she was. No confusion. No ambivalence.

“Don't feel too bad that she’s not here,” a warm voice followed from the doorway. She recognised it instantly. Miranda would have sworn her heart stopped when she heard him, only to start again when she spied him standing in the corridor, watching her contentedly. “She stayed as long as she could."

The sheer gratitude that coursed through her veins at the sight of him was beyond compare, almost beyond comprehension. “Jacob...”

He flicked his fingers at her, halfway between a wave and a salute. “Hey.”

In that moment, she was glad that she had never been the most expressive individual. Were she any different, Miranda didn't imagine her response to seeing Jacob there unharmed would have been in any way dignified.

“It's okay. You don't have to say anything,” Jacob assured her.

“Right,” Miranda murmured through the gravel in her throat. He didn't need to hear it because Jacob already knew. Everything she felt now was no doubt exactly what he’d experienced when the doctors told him Miranda was going to make it.

Words weren't essential. They couldn't tell each other anything they didn't already understand. And Jacob knew Miranda better than to permit redundancy.

“Ugh. My face hurts,” Miranda half-groaned, recovering the wherewithal to speak, briefly touching her bandage between her cheekbone and her eye.

Jacob snorted as he stepped inside. “Yeah, you think?”

Miranda sent him a feigned glare as he approached. In retrospect, it was probably best to try not to smile until her burns healed a bit. “Could you leave us?” she addressed the medic. She and Jacob had a lot to discuss. Privately.

“Um, now that you're awake, I should call the doctor in to see you.” Aside from getting a full update on her health, waking up likely meant they would be keen to shuttle Miranda out of there as soon as they could manage it. After all, the medic had made it plain that they needed every available bed they could get.

“Don't worry about that,” Jacob said, casually folding his arms across his chest. “I won't be in your way for very long, I promise. Just give us thirty minutes to catch up. That's all we need.” Miranda nodded, silently vouching for that. Perhaps some people would have wanted longer, but half an hour would suffice.

Jacob and Miranda had been friends for...was it coming up on four years now? Perhaps that wasn’t significant to an ordinary person, but that was the longest continuous bond Miranda had formed with anyone, by quite a large margin.

He wouldn't sugarcoat the truth or tiptoe around the facts. Not for Miranda. He understood her like few others did, if any. No matter what she asked him and no matter how hard the reality was to confront, she knew she would get an answer she could trust. For that reason, Jacob was exactly the right person to field her myriad questions, and there was no one she'd rather hear it from.

“Well, alright,” the medic acquiesced, not cruel enough to deprive them of their reunion. Friendly faces were a rare thing following the devastation the Reapers had left in their wake. It was only humane to grant them this small solace.

The medic stepped out into the hallway, leaving the two of them alone. Well, aside from the other patients. But Miranda didn't care if they eavesdropped.

“So what happened to you?” Jacob ventured first, taking up a seat on the right side of Miranda's bed, which was closest to the door. It must have plagued his mind ever since Samara found her out in the wasteland.

“I got caught in a shuttle crash. The Reaper guarding the Conduit shot us out of the sky,” Miranda calmly filled in the blanks, piecing together the seconds before the explosion. “If it had hit us straight on, I doubt I'd be here. Luckily, it just grazed the pilot's side. Her body must have shielded me from the blast.” Miranda paused, glancing down at her left arm. “Well, not all of it, obviously.”

Jacob chose not to indulge that remark. “I'm going to take a wild guess and say your landing didn't go too smoothly either.”

“Can't say. Wasn't conscious,” Miranda spoke frankly, forcing herself to sit partially upright, resting her back against the headboard. Sore as she was, even that minor adjustment hurt. Jacob knew her too well to bother offering assistance, correctly anticipating that she would have refused. “Given how the shuttle looked when I woke up, I'd say that's an understatement.”

“I can imagine,” Jacob mumbled, plainly drawing his own conclusions about the severity of the crash. The proof was permanently scarred into Miranda’s flesh. “How in the hell did you survive out there for days in the state you were in?”

“With great difficulty,” Miranda muttered, gingerly clutching her shoulder.

Jacob shook his head at her in amazement, not quite ready to laugh but managing to summon a small smile. “Somebody should have warned the Reapers it takes more than that to keep Miranda Lawson down.”

“Not much more,” Miranda conceded. This had nearly been enough.

“Yeah, but you made it. Who cares about anything else?” he said, resting his hand on her uninjured shoulder. And he was right, she supposed.

There was nothing to gain from fixating on how close she’d come to death, or on why so many others had been slain while she hadn’t. What mattered was that she'd pulled through. Now, she had to focus on more pressing concerns.

For starters... “...What happened?” Miranda asked him, keen to unravel the many facets of the recent past that remained totally shrouded to her. “How did it end? I was knocked out; I didn't see anything but the aftermath.”

“I don't know for sure. Nobody does. I'll tell you everything I've heard, though.” Jacob leaned forward in his seat, tenting his fingers together. “The Reapers were destroyed, right down to the last husk. I bet you figured that out days ago. But it wasn't without a cost.” He took a deep breath before reluctantly expanding on that ominous statement. “Something went wrong; the Crucible backfired.”

“Backfired?” Miranda repeated, arching the eyebrow that wasn't covered in gauze at his ambiguity. Jacob’s gaze was evasive. “Tell me,” she urged.

He shook his head, his expression grim. He looked tired. Resigned, even.

“There was this...explosion of energy from the Citadel. Pretty much any ships that couldn't get out of Earth's orbit in time got annihilated. And on the ground? I saw entire buildings obliterated, like that.” He snapped his fingers to illustrate what he’d witnessed. “Hell, people too. When the wave hit, they just...disintegrated. All we find are their shadows. Sometimes not even that.”

“I don't understand,” Miranda interjected, struggling to wrap her head around this. “I wasn’t that far from the Conduit. We were all right below the Crucible. If it caused that level of destruction, how is it that any of us survived?”

“Don't ask me; you're the smart one.” Jacob shrugged.

“I was being rhetorical, but you seriously can’t even volunteer a theory?” Miranda retorted, not particularly impressed by his blase response.

“I don’t know. It only seemed to get people who were out in the open. Maybe it's because you were sheltered by the shuttle, maybe not. But we didn’t...” Jacob hesitated, his posture drooping, staring at his feet. “Nobody thought anyone was left after that. Not where you were. Not when we saw whole buildings fry.”

Miranda regarded him strangely, not sure what he was getting at.

“Samara was the only one who looked for people that close to ground zero. For a while, anyway,” Jacob elaborated, audibly regretting his role in that. “It wasn’t until she started bringing back survivors that our rescue teams joined her.”

A shiver ran down Miranda’s spine. “You mean me?”

“Nah, you weren’t the first she found.” Jacob lifted his head, grateful for Samara’s persistence in the face of scepticism. “But it makes me wonder how many people died because nobody listened to her. Because you could have been one of them,” he finished, remorse glinting in his eyes, blaming himself for having written Miranda off when she was out there on her own that entire time.

Miranda swallowed pensively. So that was why she had crawled for so long without any sign of another living soul. No shuttles. No tanks. No voices.

If not for Samara, nobody would have come for her.

Miranda already knew she owed Samara her life, but it made her wonder. Maybe it wasn’t coincidence that she had stumbled upon her. Samara would never have searched for her to the detriment of anyone else, of course, but maybe she had deliberately concentrated on scouring the areas near where Miranda was last seen, committed to either finding her, or else confirming her demise.

That was the sort of thing friends did for one another, wasn’t it?

“That doesn’t answer my question, though,” Miranda pointed out, staying focused. “A shockwave that powerful should have killed everyone in London. Surely somebody can explain why we aren’t all a pile of ash right now?”

“No, they can’t, and I don’t care,” he countered, his tone taking Miranda aback. “We're stretching ourselves thin enough as it is. We can’t even begin to count the dead, much less figure out why some died and others didn't. Scientists can debate it and get their PhDs off the back of it later, I guess. But I don't give a rat's ass. Not when I'm still pulling the corpses out of the mud.”

“Fair point,” Miranda acknowledged. They were in crisis. Their cycle had nearly ended, and they were all who were left to pick up the pieces. There were crucial priorities to contend with before they could ponder more abstract issues.

“Sorry. You had every right to ask. I'm just...” Jacob trailed off, shaken by the horrific events he'd been exposed to over the past fortnight. He soon elected to get back to business rather than ruminate on it. “Most of our galactic forces were wiped out, but we have a lot of folks stranded here from every species. Well, every species except the geth,” he corrected himself. “There are no geth.”

Miranda’s brow creased. “No geth?” He didn't say, 'All the geth are dead,' or 'We haven't found any geth.' Jacob's exact words were, 'There are no geth.'

No ships. No platforms. No programs. Nothing.

“How does an entire species cease to exist?” Miranda asked, baffled by the sweeping implication. “You're telling me they've been...what, erased?”

“Yeah, that about covers it,” Jacob matter-of-factly confirmed. “Whatever the Crucible did to the Reapers must have taken them out as well,” he reasoned, though it was clearly speculation on his part. “Shame, too. You know I was never the biggest fan of the geth, given my experiences, but we could have used them. I mean, they can work non-stop and they don't tire or get sick or need to eat.”

“But the Reapers are gone,” Miranda pressed.

“All of them. For sure,” he gave his word.

At that, Miranda dared to release some of her tension, relaxing against the wall behind her. Perhaps it was harsh to deem the loss of the geth insignificant but, when it came to stopping the Reapers, no sacrifice was too extreme.

If one species had to die in order to preserve the fate of every other species that would ever come to exist in this galaxy, then that was a price that had to be paid. Even if that meant wiping out humanity, Miranda would have said the same thing. They all knew that peace would come at a grave cost, if it would come at all. What mattered now was protecting those who had prevailed.

“Good,” Miranda said, bolstered by the knowledge that they were safe from any further cosmic threat. “With the Reapers exterminated, we should see an influx of aid from the other homeworlds. Yes, they have their own problems, but they can afford to send it. There are survivors from every Council race here; they have an obligation to provide disaster relief, if not for us then for them.”

“Miranda...” Jacob sombrely cut her off, looking her square in the eye, bearing a heavy burden. “The Crucible didn't just destroy the Reapers and the geth. It also destroyed the mass relays. They have no way of getting to us.”

His answer made Miranda's blood run cold. The mass relays? No. That couldn’t be right. Oriana was on Horizon, thousands of light years from Earth. Without the mass relays, how would Miranda ever get there? How could they...?

Oh, God. If the mass relays had been destroyed, then...

“Jacob. The Alpha relay...” Miranda felt her heart pounding, the most horrible thought imaginable stirring chaos in her mind. “When the asteroid hit it, it took out an entire system. If the Crucible did that to every other relay—“

“No. That didn't happen,” he assured her, firmly quashing her fears.

“How do you know?” she challenged through gritted teeth.

“Because we’ve received messages from other systems through the comm buoys, though the network is shot to shit so bandwidth is extremely limited. By all accounts, only ships that were very close to the mass relays when they blew apart were destroyed. Your sister should be fine,” he told her.

Miranda ran her hand through her hair amid a heavy sigh, willing an unshed tear not to trickle from her eye. If all but a few ships were intact then that meant Oriana shouldn't have been in any danger. For that, she was infinitely thankful.

Nothing was more terrifying to her than the prospect of life without Oriana.

“Hey, it's okay.” Jacob clutched her right arm in reassurance. “I know. Believe me, I do,” he murmured, fully grasping what she was going through.

Of course, Miranda thought. Jacob had a child on the way. A child who, without the mass relays to bridge those colossal distances, Jacob might never get to see, or speak to, or hold in his arms. This must have been killing him.

If only they'd spent more time perfecting the Crucible, gathering more intel—

Miranda stopped, regaining her wits before grief got the better of her composure. Facts first. Feelings could wait. Now was not the time to let paralysis set in.

“What about the others?” Miranda spoke up, her tone professional, endeavouring to leave her fear of being separated from her sister temporarily to one side. “Samara's alive. I know that much.” Miranda counted her blessings on that, thinking back on their conversations on the Normandy, and the rapport that had evolved between them. “How is she? Does she seem alright to you?”

“If I was half as strong as she was, I’d be doing good. Nothing bends her. Nothing breaks her,” Jacob said, admiring her for that. Miranda gave a short nod. It meant a lot to know Samara was okay, not just physically but emotionally, to the extent that anyone could be given what they’d endured.

“Did she say when she’ll be back?” Miranda wondered, eager to see her. Not only was Samara her closest friend from the Normandy apart from Jacob, but she owed Samara her life. That was a debt that could never be repaid.

“No, she never mentioned. Both of us are always coming and going without notice. I haven't bumped into her in a few days, though,” Jacob nonchalantly answered, unable to give specifics. Miranda's features twinged beneath her bandages. “Don't take that as a bad sign. It just means she's busy rescuing people.”

That response wasn't sufficient to dismiss Miranda's apprehension, but she chose not to dwell on it. Maybe Jacob was right; maybe Samara had been visiting her bedside every day, just at times when Jacob wasn’t around.

“Have you found anyone else?” Miranda asked.

“From our crew? No.” He shook his head. “I mean, there's Wrex from the original Normandy. He's keeping the krogan in line. And, uh, you know...I can't confirm anything, because I haven't heard from her, but I have to figure Kasumi's fine. She never got anywhere near the fight. She just worked on the Crucible. Other than that, everyone else we know is MIA for the time being.”

“But no confirmed deaths?” Miranda noted, inferring as much.

“We haven't found any bodies. Or, if we have, we haven't identified them.” Jacob's voice didn't betray it, but Miranda could tell he was keeping the faith that the others would turn up alive. Maybe he hadn't believed it before, but Miranda's survival appeared to have rekindled his hope for the best.

“...Alright, then.” Miranda nodded, not so heartless as to deny him that small mercy, even if she knew it wasn’t realistic. With anyone else, she would have been brutally honest, but she cared about Jacob too much.

Besides, Earth was a big planet, and there were thousands of ships strewn throughout the solar system. Other members of their old crew could be out there, living on stored food and water, too far away to have made contact. Not all of them, of course. But one or two, maybe. That was better than zero.

...Great, now Miranda was starting to fool herself into becoming a bloody blind optimist too. False hope didn't suit her.

“Yeah, well, that's half the story, anyway.” Jacob muttered humourlessly, earning a curious glance from Miranda. “When I say everyone is MIA, that’s...You should know, Admiral Hackett confirmed that Commander Shepard was in the Crucible when it fired. Right at the centre of the blast. Admiral Anderson too.”

“Makes sense,” said Miranda. "I always thought that, if anyone was going to stop the Reapers, Shepard would be the one to do it. That’s what she does.”

“I know. That’s not why I’m telling you.” The sobriety on his face spoke volumes. She hadn't been awake when the wave of destruction devastated the city. She hadn't seen what he had. “Believe me, I don't say this lightly: there is no way anybody could have survived being on the Citadel when it went off.”

“Isn’t that what you thought about me too?” Miranda pointed out. “Shepard has accomplished things nobody thought she could before. She can’t...”

Jacob didn’t argue with her. He didn’t have to. His stark silence said it all.

The gravity of the situation rapidly sank in. Jacob wasn’t lying.

Miranda’s stomach churned, triggering a sharp pain in her chest. So, Shepard was gone. That was...difficult to comprehend, despite the fact that Miranda knew firsthand that Shepard's life could be snuffed out as easily as anyone else's.

Shepard had died once before. So why didn't the possibility of that happening again seem real? It wasn't a surprise. It wasn't unexpected. But it felt wrong.

Shepard was dead. Miranda couldn't help but feel like the universe had been fundamentally and irrevocably diminished. Yet the Earth was spinning normally. Life went on. The sun rose and fell as if nothing had been lost. But it had.

People like Shepard were...

No. There were no other people like Shepard.

“I'm afraid that's not all.” Jacob clasped his hands together, prepared to deliver more bad news. Miranda signalled for him to go on. Things could hardly get any worse than what he’d already told her, could they? “The Normandy is lost.”

Miranda paled. “Lost?” she said, struck to the core by his admission.

Miranda was as far from sentimental as could be, but it didn't seem possible. Miranda had gone into the fight expecting to die, and she had absolutely believed that every last member of the crew would willingly make the same sacrifice if it came to that. But to lose the ship hurt more than she'd anticipated.

And then there was EDI.

People often talked about ships as if they had a mind of their own. The Normandy actually did. Miranda had never previously believed that an AI should be considered a person, but EDI was the counterargument that had altered that view. Irrespective of any abstract concepts of what constituted ‘life’, EDI was unique – an individual unlike anyone else, before or since.

After everything the Normandy had steered them through during the suicide mission, this was how it ended? It wasn’t fair. And what about Joker? What about Garrus? Liara? Tali? Chakwas? Daniels? Donnelly? Adams? Traynor? Vega? Cortez? Losing EDI was bad enough, but everyone stationed aboard—

“Lost as in lost,” Jacob intervened, sensing she had assumed the worst. “We have no idea where it is, and we haven't heard a peep. They've just...vanished,” he said, not sure what to make of that. “No wreckage, no bodies that we know of. But we lost all communication with it after the Crucible fired.”

“What?” Miranda's one-eyed stare narrowed in abject confusion. “They're linked to Hackett’s ship by quantum entanglement. If the Normandy exists at any point in the universe and has power, they should be capable of sending messages.”

“Yeah, but they aren't, though.” Jacob reiterated, stumped for an explanation. “I don't know what else to tell you. Until we hear otherwise, that's the situation.”

That didn’t exactly lend itself to a positive interpretation. Either the Normandy had been destroyed, or it was too damaged to function, which was as good as a death sentence unless they’d landed on Earth. There was nothing to say where they might have ended up, or if anyone would ever discover the wreckage.

“What about me?” Miranda asked at last, unafraid to broach that grisly subject. Gingerly, she pushed herself forward into a proper sitting position, wincing as she did so, adjusting to only having one arm with which to balance her weight.

“Take it easy; you just woke up,” Jacob noted, respecting her space, but keeping watch in case she was expecting too much from herself too fast.

“I can manage,” Miranda assured him somewhat stonily, resenting her frailty. She hated being sidelined, which made being injured an inconvenient state of affairs. The sooner she bounced back and could go contribute something useful, the better. Jacob was glad to see she hadn't changed. “How am I?”

“You weren't doing so hot when Samara brought you in,” Jacob admitted, a shadow momentarily flickering across his features. “Nothing the docs couldn't handle, though. They patched you up nicely.”

Miranda fixed him with a stern look. “Jacob, you do realise that I have, in fact, noticed my arm is missing?” she deadpanned, unimpressed by his efforts to soften the blow. “I have tinnitus in one ear, I'm deaf in the other, and half my face hurts like hell. Don’t coddle me; save your understatement for someone else.”

Jacob chuckled at her scolding. Of course Miranda didn't need to be comforted. She wanted to hear the full extent of the damage she'd sustained in the crash, and her prognosis for how quickly she would recuperate.

“Well, your face hurts because you suffered some nasty burns there, plus minor ones to other parts of your body. But you knew that,” Jacob straightforwardly began, aware that Miranda would rather be slapped hard by reality than patronised. “Could have been a lot worse, but your eye wasn't so lucky.”

“I probably should have mentioned, I think I got shot there at one stage,” Miranda casually chimed in, as if they were discussing the weather.

“That must be why it couldn't be saved. They had to remove it.” Miranda nodded, perfectly fine with that. “You haven't got much of an ear on that side either. A lot of the outer cartilage was burned off, and your eardrum was perforated. I'm guessing that's the ear you meant when you said you're deaf on one side.”

“Sorry, can you repeat that?” Miranda facetiously cupped her intact ear.

Jacob snorted, lightly punching her in the arm. “Fuck off. I’m just going to assume I always need to talk to you from the right from now on.”

“At least I finally know what my good side is. It was always a curse being so symmetrical,” Miranda dryly quipped, unfazed. Jacob smirked, glad to see she was taking it in stride. He probably hadn't expected anything different.

“You tore your rotator cuff in your left shoulder. That'll take some healing,” Jacob continued, listing off everything he could remember. “As for the rest of the arm, well...the problem was, by the time they got to it, infection had already set in. Your arm was basically dead below the elbow. Amputation was the only course.”

“I anticipated that,” Miranda acknowledged. "I could have lost a lot more.”

"Yeah, you could. But your forearm got twisted around so much that it had virtually detached from your body. That might have been what saved you,” Jacob postulated. “Anyway, it's not going to hinder you in the long run. You know how far cybernetic limbs have come in the last couple of years.”

“Not by choice, but Kai Leng was quite eager to acquaint me with his enhancements. But prosthetics can wait,” Miranda filled in on his behalf. With Earth in disarray and countless casualties, that wasn't a priority. “Keep going,” Miranda encouraged, not forgetting that there was more. She wanted a full report, from head to toe. “How are my legs?”

“Better than the rest of you,” Jacob summarised. “Your right one is fine, but your left knee is busted – torn ligaments, stuff like that. Problem is, that falls under the 'elective' category. Hopefully, the worst of it will heal up by itself. But, put it this way, I wouldn't make plans to start wearing heels again any time soon.”

“Slap a pair of crutches on me and I'll be right as rain,” Miranda practically scoffed as she spoke. A busted knee barely warranted mentioning after all of that. “Well, one crutch,” Miranda belatedly added.

Jacob’s expression shifted, like he couldn’t decide whether to be amused or bemused. “This isn’t a criticism, but...you’re processing all of this way too well.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s not like I can change what happened to me,” Miranda noted with a nonchalant shrug, perplexed by the implication that her reaction ought to be otherwise. “Besides, disability and disfigurement are hardly the end of the world. They’re a fact of life that have formed part of the human experience for as long as there have been humans. There’s no need to be melodramatic.”

“Maybe not, but I think you owe me an apology for snapping at me before. You're the one brushing off these injuries like they're nothing,” Jacob commented, crossing his arms, not that he was shocked by her hypocrisy.

“They are nothing. I’m fine,” Miranda insisted.

“Whatever you say, Two-Face,” Jacob countered.

Miranda dismissively rolled her eye. “Okay, so my left side isn't what it used to be. So what? I'll cope. Other than what you've already told me, what else is there to keep me here? Superficial cuts and burns?”

All levity fell from Jacob's face, his complexion turning pale grey.

“What?” Miranda prompted at his stark silence, beginning to grow annoyed.

“...Miranda, you had sepsis,” Jacob solemnly revealed, his features deadly serious. He swallowed, finding it hard to confront those stomach-churning memories. “You’re recovering, but you...You nearly went into organ failure.”

His words were strikingly bleak, and his directness left Miranda appropriately chastened. She hadn't realised it was that dire. For the first time, Miranda grasped just how terrified Jacob had been that he was going to watch her die.

“Samara told me you’d stopped breathing when she got you to the paramedics,” Jacob went on, dodging her gaze, no longer able to deny how close he’d come to burying his best friend. “Any slower, and it might have been too late to resuscitate you. Hell, even after you got out of surgery, you were so far gone that the doctors were going to take you off life support, until Samara stepped in.”

Miranda creased her brow. “Stepped in how?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, suddenly remembering the bitter taste of ash and dust in her throat.

“She said, if they stopped your treatment, they would be sentencing you to certain death. Her Code would consider that attempted murder, and she would be compelled to prevent it, by any means,” he recounted, oblivious to the bewildered look that befell Miranda. “I made sure they knew she wasn’t joking.”

Miranda glanced aside, troubled. Her insight into Samara’s Code was limited, but...threatening doctors didn’t sound like something she would do. Then again, Samara would never act other than in strict accordance with the Code, much less misrepresent it. Maybe Miranda had misjudged its tenets.

“That’s three,” Miranda softly muttered, prompting Jacob to utter a confused hum, not following her. “Three things Samara did to save my life.”

“Yeah, well, you ever scare me like that again and you’re gonna answer to my left hook,” he warned, with the kind of tone that only came from a genuine bond. “Seriously, the way you stress me out can't be good for my heart.”

“Really? Mine's fine,” Miranda remarked, tilting her head at the monitor as proof.

“One of these days you're going to be the one worrying about me. And when that day comes, you're going to be – what would you call it? – a blubbering wreck,” he playfully teased her, imitating her accent, poorly.

“First off, that was cockney; that’s not even close to how I sound. And, secondly, I don't think 'blubbering' is in my genetic sequence,” she replied.

“Liar.” Jacob wore a knowing smirk, wagging a finger at her. “I was there on Illium, when Shepard talked you into meeting your little sister.”

“Clearly you're an unreliable witness,” Miranda persisted with a mock huff. “I recall being perfectly composed that entire time.”

“Your concussion must have been worse than I thought. Looks like your memory isn't quite as sharp as it used to be,” he joked, tapping her lightly on the head. “Excuse me, nurse, the patient is exhibiting signs of delusional thinking—“

“Get out of it.” Miranda swiftly swatted his hand away. “On second thought, Jacob, I can guarantee that I won't be a blubbering wreck if you end up on an operating table because, at this rate, I'm going to be the one who put you there.”

Jacob snickered. “I’d deserve it, too, but it’d be worth it.”

Miranda tried to feign vexation, but she couldn’t. Having Jacob’s company made a world of difference in these dark times. Their relationship had never been simple, especially after they broke up, but after all they'd been through together they were practically family, with all the ups and downs that entailed.

As a consequence of her upbringing, companionship was exceptionally rare for Miranda. In thirty-six years, there were no more than five people with whom Miranda could say she had formed any kind of intimate personal connection: Niket, Jacob, Shepard, Oriana, and Samara. That two of them were alive and on Earth with her meant far more than she would have thought up until a year ago.

And yet, there was one absence that could not be so easily overcome. The most important person of all. Even the other four combined could never fill that aching hole. Not through any fault of their own, but because they weren't her.

Her sister – her genetic twin.

She couldn't banish the thought of Oriana, stranded out there on Horizon. With the mass relays gone and the comms down, the colony must have descended into total panic. It set her teeth on edge to imagine what she was going through.

Fear. Confusion. Grief. Mourning.

“Jacob...” Miranda sat forward, a horrible heartache swelling inside her, making her nauseous. But she couldn’t let herself faint. “Does Oriana know I’m alive?”

“I sent a message to her as soon as Samara found you, but public email service isn't a priority. Military and diplomatic channels take precedence when it comes to bandwidth. We're trying as hard as we can, but...” He trailed off.

There had been no progress. They were no closer to contacting the people they loved. And he couldn't tell her when that was likely to change.

Suddenly, the vast distances of the galaxy had become so much greater.

It had barely been a month since Miranda had wrapped her arms around Oriana outside the spaceport on Horizon, letting her thumb gently graze across her forehead, brushing stray strands of hair out of her sister’s eyes as she told her that this wasn’t goodbye. Was that the last time she would ever hold her?

With the Extranet crippled, there was no guarantee Miranda could get through to her. Even if she could, who knew how long it would take to reach Oriana?

Until they knew the answer to that question, time would be her prison. Through all her crushing isolation, Oriana could only sit there, held captive by the clock, waiting day after day for a call that may never come. And it was Miranda's fault.

Even if they lived another two hundred years, they might never set foot on the same ground again. If the mass relays couldn't be fixed, then they would never get to start that new life together that Miranda had dreamed of for so long.

“I lied to her, Jacob,” Miranda murmured. Vacant. Distant. “I promised I’d come back to her. But I was lying.” She shook her head, tumultuous emotions stirring inside her. “Our father killed her adoptive family. I'm all she has. I knew that. And I left her. I only just found her, and now it's possible I’ll never see her again.”

Jacob put his arms around her, letting her head fall on his shoulder. Miranda didn't cry. She almost never did, and this was no exception. But she felt a tightening in her chest that wouldn't go away. The guilt was suffocating.

“You aren't the only one breaking promises,” he said, perching on the edge of the bed beside her. “It's fitting. My father was gone for ten years. Longer, actually. He was never the most present guy, even when he was around. After I saw what he'd become, I swore...Well, no, I didn't swear not to be like him; I knew I wasn't. How could anybody be like that? Except here I am.”

“Jacob, don't say that,” Miranda protested, pulling away. How could he even think that? “You're nothing like your father. Not what he became.”

“Why not? I might be away from Brynn and our child a damn sight more than ten years,” he pointed out, gesturing at his surroundings indicatively. “I'm abandoning them, just like he abandoned me.”

“Your circumstances are somewhat different from his,” Miranda noted. Sympathy wasn't a trait she possessed in any great abundance, but she did demonstrate it occasionally. This was one of those moments. “You’re not your father and I’m not mine. He was a manipulative criminal. You’re not. He could have activated that beacon at any time if he wanted to come home. You can't.”

“Doesn't change the fact that I chose to leave. I knew I was risking a lot coming here to fight the Reapers, but I chose to be here instead of with them. Maybe I shouldn't have,” Jacob confessed his doubts, getting up and moving away from her bedside, his hands perched on his hips as he chastised himself.

“You don't mean that.” Miranda sat forward to try and catch him by the sleeve, but he stepped out of her reach, refusing to be consoled.

“I'm not sure what I mean,” he shot back, unable to distinguish between fleeting manifestations of grief and what he really believed. “You made the same choice. Are you telling me that you're certain it was the right one? If you could rewind time, would you still say that coming here to fight the Reapers was worth leaving Oriana behind? Is that how really you feel?”

“...I can't ask myself that. Not yet,” Miranda quietly conceded, a rare glimmer of vulnerability. “I’ve lost a lot to this battle, Jacob. Not just what you can see.” She glanced aside, not ready to talk about watching her team die. “Call it cowardice, but I'm not keen to examine the issue only to decide it was a mistake.”

“No, you're right.” Jacob sighed, regretting the tone he’d taken with Miranda then. “We are where we are. We're stuck here, and we can't change that. Beating ourselves up won't get us any closer to our families.”

“Would that it could,” said Miranda, her fingers combing through her hair. She and Jacob, they really were in the same boat, weren't they?

She wouldn't wish these regrets upon her worst enemy, much less her best friend, but that was out of their control. Jacob couldn't stem his pain, nor Miranda hers. They had both been separated from their only family, possibly for good.

If their grief was going to consume each of them, at least they could endure it together, sharing the load. Perhaps the despair wouldn't hurt so much if they faced it side by side. Or maybe carrying each other’s burdens on top of their own would make it hurt twice as much. But hey, misery loved company.

* * *

There was a rumour on the Normandy that Miranda never stopped working, but to perform basic necessities like sleeping and showering. Anyone who claimed to have witnessed her out of her office for anything other than a strictly functional purpose was assumed to be lying, or delusional.

While Miranda did nothing to dissuade the myth, there was one person who could have attested to the contrary: Samara.

Apparently nobody else noticed that, over the past several days, it was becoming increasingly common for Miranda to find herself wandering over to the Normandy's Starboard Observation Deck when she was finished for the day, or in the rare moments when she forced herself to take a break, or when she knew intellectually that she needed to sleep but couldn't convince her body to do it.

Why not? Miranda could hardly relax in her office, with her desk right there, judging her for not working while the bustle from the kitchen and mess hall filtered through her walls. She had to do something with her spare time, what little she had of it, and she wasn’t exactly inundated with myriad options.

The ability to be social was one trait her father had not instilled her with. In fact, he’d actively discouraged it. As a consequence, Miranda had grown accustomed to solitude and she never saw the purpose of rectifying that. Most people weren't worth her time, and giving them the benefit of the doubt usually proved that, if flotation devices ran on intelligent thoughts, theirs would sink like lead.

She doubted the Normandy’s crew would be surprised to learn that ‘mingling’ with them was something Miranda would typically only have done if forced at gunpoint – even then giving some weight to the merits of the bullet. She loathed idle chit chat, and almost everyone on this ship got on her nerves. Even the ones who didn’t began to grate if they lingered too long.

But Samara? She was the exception.

Unlike the others, Samara never forced her into a conversation. She was content to meditate undisturbed by Miranda's presence. She never felt obligated to fill the tranquil silence with superfluous small talk. They had spoken when the mood struck, of course, but it was never an essential requirement.

She could drift in and out when she wished. Samara wouldn't question her, or demand a reason. There were no expectations. Miranda could just exist, even more comfortably than in her own quarters, which was a welcome change.

Not to mention that Miranda quickly grew to appreciate why Samara had chosen this room as her sanctuary. She was right; it was peaceful. The view across the vast expanses of the cosmos compelled one to a contemplative mood. It was quite relaxing to sit back on the lounge with a cocktail in her hand and slip into introspection, gazing out at passing stars, planets and nebulae.

On that particular night, sleep eluded Miranda for another reason, and she sought harbour there again. It was late. Much later than any prior visit. Only a skeleton crew was awake to operate the Normandy's basic systems.

Miranda had opted to bring her work with her, burying herself in tasks she ordinarily would have finished hours ago, since she thought the pristine silence might help her concentrate and...distract from other things. Her typing didn’t seem to bother Samara, taking the absence of any objection as tacit consent.

In truth, Miranda was barely paying attention to her screen. Alas, taking refuge there wasn’t calming her nerves. Then again, what would?

She'd heard word that Oriana’s location had been compromised. Her father knew where she was, and he would stop at nothing to recover his lost investment. Luckily, Cerberus caught wind of the breach and had arranged to move Oriana out of harm’s way. But Miranda was tense nevertheless.

How the hell had he managed to track her down? On Illium, of all places? This didn't add up. She'd been so careful. But she supposed it was too late to worry about what she’d done wrong. All that mattered now was keeping him at bay.

That was why she had to be there. She had to ensure the transfer went without incident. She had to oversee it in person to make absolutely sure any risk to Oriana was quashed. She wouldn’t be able to stop fretting about her until she knew her sister was out of her father’s reach.

If her father got his hands on Oriana...No. Miranda would sooner die than let that happen. She would never fail Oriana like that. She would never forgive herself.

That was why nothing could be left to chance.

“Ah, fuck me dead,” Miranda cursed under her breath in frustration, realising she'd made a critical mistake in her work. An uncharacteristic lapse. Again.

Samara blinked. “What?” She turned her head in confusion once her words registered, the first time Miranda had seen her trance involuntarily disrupted.

“It's a...saying where I'm from. Don't worry about it.” Miranda waved her off. She hadn’t thought Samara was listening but evidently that harsh whisper directed at herself had not been so quiet as to escape detection.

Samara's mildly bewildered expression did not fade immediately, but she chose not to question that, regaining her poise and returning to her meditation.

Miranda hastened to proofread her analysis for more errors. It was no mystery why she'd faltered, preoccupied by her fears for Oriana’s safety that dominated her mind. And her mounting stream of mistakes only added to her stress.

This didn't bode well for the mission. Miranda couldn’t afford to be inattentive when Oriana was in imminent danger. If she was missing things now, what chance did she have of being in a better frame of mind tomorrow, operating on no sleep?

It was stupid. She shouldn't have been anxious. It was a simple relocation. Cerberus were already one step ahead of Henry Lawson. They knew he was planning to abduct her, and they would have made the necessary preparations to avoid him and his agents. Everything was going to be fine.

But what if it wasn't?

“Miranda...” At the sound of her name, she glanced up to find that Samara’s glow had faded, her energy dispersed. “Would you care to join me?”

“Join you?” Miranda echoed, unsure what she meant.

“In meditation,” Samara clarified, indicating a spot on the floor next to her. She seemed to have picked up on Miranda's unusually troubled countenance, despite how closely she guarded her thoughts.

“Why?” Miranda arched an eyebrow. “What purpose would that serve?”

“There are several benefits,” Samara calmly replied, unoffended by Miranda's curt response. “It may help you focus, providing you with a means to channel extraneous energy, which will aid in sharpening your mind.”

“Is that why you do it?” Miranda asked. When she wasn’t in the field with Shepard, Samara's entire life aboard the Normandy seemed to revolve around her meditation. It was only sensible to wonder what she gained from it.

“Not primarily, no,” Samara admitted, “But I did not expect you would find spiritual enlightenment to be a compelling motivation.”

“You thought correctly,” Miranda acknowledged. But, despite her misgivings, Samara did have a point; there were practical reasons for attempting it.

Miranda couldn't afford to not be thinking straight tomorrow. Snowing herself in with work was failing horribly, and at this rate she certainly wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night. Perhaps Samara’s meditation exercises would settle her down enough to alter her anxious mental state, like a form of self-hypnosis.

“...Sure, why not?” Miranda unenthusiastically acquiesced, moving to sit beside Samara, who seemed pleasantly surprised by that her suggestion had been heeded. Miranda didn’t think it was polite to announce that she was only giving in because she had no better ideas. “I have to warn you, this probably isn't going to work. The ability to switch off my thoughts was not programmed into me.”

“Thought is distinct from mindfulness,” Samara advised. “The goal of meditation is not to cease the former, but to obtain the clarity that allows the latter to flourish. And, if this does not come naturally to you, perhaps that is an indication that you would benefit more than most from learning the technique.”

Miranda didn't lose her scepticism, but she couldn't argue with that.

“If you're willing to teach me, I'm willing to try.” Miranda straightened her back, emulating Samara's cross-legged position.

Samara re-adopted her perfect posture, enveloped by a luminescent shroud. “Clear your mind and let your biotics flow through you. Sustaining them will assist in ridding you of distractions. I choose to do so by forming a ball of biotic energy, but perhaps you would prefer to levitate a small object to begin.”

“No. I can do it,” Miranda assured her. Her biotics weren't as powerful as Samara's but, in theory, she was capable of all the same feats.

Miranda surrounded herself with a comparatively faint biotic field, enhancing her senses, forming a tight sphere of energy between her palms, confident in her ability to hold it together. She soon understood what Samara meant; it took a great deal of willpower to sit stone still while keeping her biotics simultaneously charged and reined in. She couldn't afford to let her thoughts wander too far.

“Wait until your mind has quietened,” Samara continued when Miranda had stabilised her energies. “Then, you can shift your consciousness away from the physical, and reflect on that which has true meaning to you.”

Miranda's brow subtly twitched. She knew what had meaning to her, because there was only one thing that ever had: protecting Oriana.

She had sacrificed so much to get Oriana far away from her father, and she would do it a million times over in a heartbeat. She pictured Oriana confined to that gilded cage, forced to endure echoes of the same abuse Miranda had suffered at their father’s hands. Emotional. Psychological. Sometimes physical.

Miranda was never allowed to be a child. Not allowed to cry. Not allowed be frightened or angry. Some of her earliest memories involved her father’s endless dissatisfaction that his ideal creation hadn’t been born free of those innate emotional responses. Over the years, he’d set about drilling them out of her with ruthless efficiency, until they almost completely ceased to exist within her.

It wasn't like it was any better if she smiled or laughed. Whenever Miranda found something that brought her a shred of joy, her father would sneer at her, accuse it of being frivolous and take it away, denying her anything that he hadn't granted her or given her his express permission to partake in.

She’d never been held. Never been hugged. Any emotion Miranda expressed, she was punished for and taught to suppress, because it displeased him.

Her father never wanted her to develop her own feelings. She was simply meant to be an obedient machine, with no likes or dislikes that he had not instilled in her. In his twisted view, she was his property, right down to her very thoughts.

Miranda existed solely to be an instrument of his will. His restrictive rules and rigorous training were all designed to mould her into fulfilling his vision of a perfect clone who would parrot his beliefs and perpetuate his legacy. Vanity had compelled him to create her, because it was the closest he could come to influencing the future by ensuring his ambition continued after his death.

That Miranda was not a mindless vessel primed to be filled with her father's beliefs was surely his greatest disappointment. For the longest time, Miranda had thought that must have been why he'd decided Miranda had outlived her usefulness and elected to grow another. But, of course, discovering her infertility made it obvious that discarding her had always been his intention.

A replacement for a failed prototype. That was what Oriana was created to be. That was her purpose in his grand designs. Nothing more, nothing less.

Miranda imagined Oriana following the path their father had planned, being tormented by him until she became what he wanted her to be – exactly what Oriana could have been had Miranda not seen through his deception in time to escape with her. Barely less of a puppet than the Collectors.

Even if he didn't manage to brainwash her to bring her to heel, Miranda knew precisely what living under her father's relentless control could do to a person. He would take everything that was beautiful about Oriana and crush it because, to him, those qualities would be flaws. He would savagely punish failure and never reward success, because perfection was the minimum he expected.

Nothing Oriana did would ever be good enough for him. He would criticise every single thing she did, forcing her to adhere to his strict, often arbitrary demands until he finally erased every shred of her identity.

If she had grown up like that, there was no guarantee Oriana would have survived. Maybe she would have failed even earlier than Miranda. Not that the outcome would have been much better if she managed to achieve her father’s goals.

Instead of the happy, vibrant young woman that Miranda had seen in the limited glimpses she allowed herself from afar, her father would have raised Oriana to be cold, aloof, detached. He would have kept her isolated, friendless, deprived of social bonds, permanently hindering her ability to communicate with others, relate to them, or form normal emotional responses to interpersonal situations.

Just like he’d already done to Miranda.

All of a sudden, Miranda's bubble of energy burst, throwing her off-balance, though she instinctively stuck her arms out behind her and caught herself before she fell. The small blast didn't rouse Samara from her trance. It was almost like she'd expected the premature detonation.

Miranda cleared her throat, trying to regain some dignity. “I did warn you,” she uttered, disgruntled with her ongoing propensity towards failure as of late.

“It is alright. You saw something you do not wish to confront; something you cannot accept,” Samara stated, understanding why Miranda lost focus. “I will not ask you to discuss it. Your thoughts are your own. But learning to meditate on that with which you are not currently at peace rather than resisting it may aid you in attaining harmony. That is, if you choose to pursue it, as I have.”

Miranda sighed. She wasn't so sure she wanted to stare in the proverbial mirror any longer than she had. That part of her life was years ago, and it didn't accomplish anything to dig up the past. She couldn't afford to when such critical tasks were at hand. It would only disrupt the mission

Letting such things run rampant through her psyche when she had long since moved on with her life was irrational and, given her position as second-in-command aboard the ship, irresponsible. There was no sense dwelling on it.

“This isn't the best time,” Miranda declined. She was never going to be able to clear her head while her concern for Oriana dominated her subconscious. “After tomorrow, maybe. I might be in a better place. We'll see.”

Samara considered her response, but took Miranda at her word, believing it wasn't a mere excuse. She gave Miranda too much credit, because it was.

“If it would interest you, perhaps I could instruct you in the use of some of my biotic abilities,” Samara offered, maintaining her field with no strain whatsoever. She made it look effortless. If Miranda were pettier, she might have envied her composure. Instead, she admired it. “I do not know if we will have time to develop them to a combat-effective state. However—”

“I’m not averse to that idea,” said Miranda, “Though I can’t make any solid time commitments.” The jury may have been out on meditation, but taking the opportunity to improve her biotics was an objectively sensible decision.

The Collectors had nearly killed Miranda on Horizon. Shepard and Mordin too. Given what they were up against, she would have been foolish not to accept. And, considering that Samara was, so far, the only person on this ship whose company never vexed her, spending more time with her to gain the benefit of her biotic expertise wasn’t an unpleasant prospect.

“Very well. I look forward to it,” Samara sincerely replied, leaving it at that.

Miranda didn't realise it at the time, but that was when their friendship truly began.

* * *

“Jacob…” Miranda said warningly, her one-eyed stare unwavering.

“Miranda, no,” he steadfastly refused.

“Hand me the box, Jacob,” she commanded, holding out her arm expectantly.

“Look, I brought you a change of clothes and a crutch like you asked me to because I thought it would make you more comfortable here. But I am not going to help you escape, Miranda,” he told her, keeping a tight grip on the box. “You’re leaving this hospital when you’re good and ready. Not a moment sooner.”

“Good thing I heal fast, then,” Miranda remarked, smirking. “Besides, escape makes it sound like they have the authority to keep me here. I prefer to think of it as discharging myself.” Jacob was unamused. “Come on. This bed is uncomfortable, anyway. And the combination of boredom and tinnitus might actually drive me to strangle someone if I have to stay here another night.”

“Miranda, you can’t even handle food in your stomach yet. The only thing they’ve been able to give you to eat these past two days is…” Jacob trailed off, pointing at the untouched bowl beside her bed. “I mean, I can’t even call that soup. It’s water with flavouring. And you’ve still thrown up every single time you’ve eaten.”

“I’ve been lying here staring at the ceiling for over a week while they pump me full of morphine, sedatives and antibiotics. Lo and behold, they all cause nausea,” Miranda dismissively explained, brushing that off.

“Why do you hate being here so much?” Jacob asked, at a loss.

“Because I have nothing to do except lie here listening to my ear ring!” Miranda snapped, on the verge of losing her mind. “They won’t even let me walk to the bathroom under my own power. It's six metres away! But instead I have to press a button and call a nurse to take me there in a wheelchair like I’m a bloody dementia patient,” she grumbled, detesting that lack of autonomy.

“You don’t understand the concept of being sick, do you?” Jacob commented, unable to fathom that someone so intelligent was so staunchly committed to wilful ignorance when it came to her own limitations. “You’re not over your sepsis yet. If you were well enough to be outside, you wouldn’t be in hospital.”

“I’m more qualified than any of these doctors to declare myself fit,” Miranda retorted with an irritated huff, not at all entertained by his opposition.

“Not from any accredited university,” Jacob pointed out, earning a glare.

“Everyone who brought someone back from the dead raise your hand,” said Miranda, doing exactly that, confidently cocking her head. “How many people with a legitimate medical degree can say that?”

“Alright. Fine. Jesus.” Jacob sighed, reluctantly surrendering the box.

“He didn’t raise the dead; he rose from the dead. But I appreciate the comparison,” said Miranda, incredibly satisfied with herself, examining her fresh clothes. It wasn’t anything fancy, just some black pants, a grey t-shirt and some boots, but she supposed she couldn’t be choosy. Casual would suffice.

“This isn’t funny, and neither are you,” Jacob protested as Miranda carefully shifted her legs over the edge of the bed, removing the cannula from her nose and the sensors from her chest, which wasn’t easy with the drip still hooked into her arm. “You are nowhere near ready to get involved in post-war operations.”

“I’m injured, I’m not bloody useless,” Miranda insisted with an irritable scoff. “You need my help. You know you do. I’m not going to spend all my time confined to a bed like a vegetable just because I have one arm, one eye, one ear and a limp. That’s ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head at the absurdity.

Miranda possessed enough self-awareness to concede her cold-hearted reputation was not wholly undeserved, but she didn't require a great deal of empathy to recognise that there were countless others out there worse off than she was – people whose survival hung by a thread while vital resources, life-saving drugs and medical personnel were far too scarce to cope with demand.

The reality was that Miranda was not at death's door, and that meant she should no longer be a priority patient. Frankly, she wouldn't have had it any other way. Even one-eyed and one-armed, she could make a difference. She didn’t plan on hanging around waiting for non-urgent care before taking action.

Jacob paused, moving over to crouch beside Miranda, his fingers tented together. She peered at him, briefly halting her sensor-removal, annoyed.

“What?” she asked.

“Miranda, you need to admit you have a problem,” Jacob counselled her, putting his hand atop hers. “You are a workaholic; you are addicted to work,” he informed her, staging an intervention. “Seek treatment.”

“Have you ever noticed that it’s only humans who talk about people doing their jobs too well like it’s a problem?” Miranda observed, intrigued by that nonsensical mindset. “That’s what’s holding us back as a species,” she astutely declared, returning to the business of peeling off the last of the nodes.

She couldn’t stand this hospital. Every time Jacob left her alone, she grew restless. She couldn’t relax because there was nothing to distract her from the constant ringing in her ear. It was driving her insane. She needed something to do – something to take her mind off it. Anything. Or at least anything other than the memories of her dead team, or her misery at being separated from Oriana.

If Samara had come and visited her, that might have helped. But she hadn’t. Nobody had seen Samara in nearly two weeks, which was...well, Miranda was sure she’d have a good explanation for that when she ran into her.

Jacob stared at her, evidently realising that he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of stopping her. Once Miranda’s mind was set on a particular goal, she was virtually impossible to deter, even when said goal was contrary to reason.

“…You are literally the worst person I’ve ever met. And the only reason I’m still helping you is because I know you’re just going to climb out that window if I don’t, and I refuse to be responsible for you plummeting to your death,” he acquiesced at long last, gently taking hold of her wrist and extracting the drip and cannula from her arm, which she obviously couldn’t do on her own.

“You’re a good friend, Jacob,” said Miranda, her lips curling into a slight smile, glad he’d been persuaded to offer his assistance.

“If by ‘friend’ you mean 'accomplice’,” he remarked disapprovingly.

“Stop whinging and help me get changed,” she instructed.

He handed her some underwear, which she slid on, followed by pants, cautious not to aggravate her knee in the process. After that, she took off her hospital gown and gingerly pulled the t-shirt over her head, cautious of her amputated arm. The last thing she needed was to show Jacob she was in any pain.

“If you get stuck, I’m leaving you that way,” Jacob stated.

“I won’t get stuck,” Miranda insisted, wishing he would stop complaining so much. And, sure enough, she didn’t, guiding her stump through the sleeve while putting as little pressure on her torn rotator cuff as possible. That done, she slipped her right arm through and rolled down the hem of the shirt to cover her torso. A thought occurred to her. “Jacob, hand me your jacket."

“What for?” he asked, suspicious.

“Look, I know I’m not the only amputee walking around at the moment, but I’d rather not attract attention,” Miranda pointed out. On top of the limp and the facial bandage, she didn’t want to make it too obvious she hadn’t been cleared to check out yet. The more she could disguise it, the better.

Jacob cooperated, draping his jacket over her shoulders, concealing her missing arm, and buttoning the collar around her neck to stop it from falling off. Once she zipped up her boots, she was all dressed and good to go. She flexed her fingers on the handle of her crutch, tucking it beneath her shoulder.

“You ready?” Jacob asked, standing back, letting her do this by herself.

“Won’t know until I try,” Miranda said, hiding her hesitancy.

Despite what Jacob may have thought, Miranda wasn’t being rash or foolish. This would be her first attempt to walk in over a fortnight. Neither leg had been able to properly support her weight by the time Samara found her. She could only hope that she had recovered enough to manage this.

She got up, leaning on both her right leg and her crutch for balance. It felt odd, finally standing upright again. But that had been the easy part. Tentatively, she moved her left foot, readying her crutch for the act of taking a step.

Her left knee flared with pain, threatening to buckle. The shock of it prompted her to shift her weight back to her right foot as quickly as possible, overbalancing in the process. Fortunately, Jacob reached out to catch her by the shoulder, allowing her to lean on him as she regained her footing.

“Agh. I think I did that wrong,” Miranda hissed through clenched teeth, willing the ache in her knee to subside before her second attempt.

“This your first time using one of these?” Jacob asked out of curiosity.

“No. I just haven’t walked in over two weeks,” Miranda spoke sharply, frustrated with herself, and running low on patience. “Give me a minute.”

“I don’t suppose this will convince you to change your mind about staying here?” said Jacob, doubtfully. Jacob had seen her get beaten and tortured before. She hadn’t looked vulnerable then. She didn’t look it now.

“Not a chance,” she replied, refusing to be defeated by a god damn sore knee. “My grand escape might just be…slower than I’d planned.”

“I thought you said this wasn’t an escape,” he said, detecting the contradiction.

“Plans change,” Miranda quipped.

Jacob snorted. “Just so we’re clear, you owe me big time on this,” he told her, putting an arm around Miranda’s waist to steady her, although she didn’t require his assistance for more than a few shaky steps before she got the hang of it, after which point he let her carry on unaided. “No, seriously. I’m talking, 'indebted to me for the rest of your life’ kind of big.”

“Yes, extort the disabled woman,” Miranda remarked, rolling her eye as they came to the doorway. “You really want to do that, Jacob?”

“When it’s you, definitely,” he happily confirmed.

Miranda frowned. But, alas, she lacked alternatives. “Alright, fine. I accept your terms,” she surrendered, grimacing slightly as she shuffled forward. “Now show me the quickest way out of here, and fill me in on what I should know.”

“About London?” Jacob asked.

“That’d be a start.”

* * *

The doors to the Observation Deck slid open with a soft hiss. “Miranda,” Samara greeted her arrival, not needing to turn to confirm her identity.

“Good evening, Samara,” Miranda responded, her tone abnormally upbeat.

Evidently, it didn’t go unnoticed. “It would appear that what I have heard is true,” Samara deduced. Miranda tilted her head. “You spoke to your sister.”

Miranda snorted as she stepped inside. “Nothing can stay private on this ship, can it? Let me guess: Kasumi told you?” Samara's silence served as tacit confirmation. Miranda exhaled, unable to be mad about it. “It wasn’t planned. I always thought it would be selfish to interfere in her life. But then Shepard took me aside and said maybe it isn’t so wrong for Oriana to know she has a sister who loves her."

“And was Shepard correct?” Samara asked.

Miranda couldn’t fight off a smirk. “She can be.” The hint of a smile on Samara’s lips betrayed that she was pleased with that news. “Oddly enough, I don't think Oriana was even surprised when I walked up and told her who I was.”

“She shares your intelligence,” Samara noted, not shocked to hear that. “You have watched over her all her life. With such an astute mind, I do not expect she would have failed to perceive the evidence that she was not alone.”

“Nor do I. I don't think much gets past her.” Miranda chuckled under her breath, amused to discover that her sister's cheery demeanour belied a cunning wit no less incisive than her own. “We're alike in many ways. Identical twins often are, I suppose. But, at the same time, she's absolutely nothing like me.”

Miranda approached the window, gazing out at the stars as she replayed her conversation with Oriana in her head. Her skin still tingled, mesmerised by how it had felt to hold Oriana in her embrace for the first time in nineteen years. She could scarcely believe that this wasn’t a dream – that nothing was going to pop her bubble and prove her stolen shard of joy to be ephemeral.

“Oriana's just...she’s an amazing person,” Miranda all but gushed. “She's kind-hearted and funny, and I'm neither of those things. Which is good, because it means everything I did for her was right, despite what Niket said.”

“You mean keeping her away from your father?” Samara surmised.

At the mention of him, Miranda tensed imperceptibly. It was then that she remembered her place, coming to her senses and realising how much she was divulging to a colleague she'd known for less than a month.

“What am I doing?” Miranda shook her head at herself, conscious of how foolish she must have appeared in that moment. “I apologise. I shouldn’t be commandeering your time blathering on about my personal life.”

“You commandeered nothing,” Samara assured her, letting her biotic field fade. “It was freely given.”

Miranda didn't know if that was sincerity or courtesy. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but feel that to behave so casually with a work colleague bordered on inappropriate. Miranda was there to do a job. The Illusive Man expected her to be professional, and, more importantly, she expected it of herself.

“Look, I appreciate you helping me clear my head yesterday, but I'm not here to gain anyone's sympathy with some big sob story about my childhood,” Miranda spoke frankly. “Everyone has problems. I deal with mine on my own.”

“As you should, and as we all must,” Samara affirmed, respecting her independent streak for the admirable quality it was. “However, it is not folly to speak truthfully about oneself, nor is it selfish to accept advice when it is offered voluntarily, though I will refrain from doing so if you do not wish to hear it.”

“I didn't say that.” Miranda frowned, not wishing to create that impression. She enjoyed Samara’s company, and she didn't intend to carelessly toss it aside. “I’m just aware you have better things to do than listen to me talk your ear off. It's not why you're here. I'll go to Kelly Chambers if I want a therapy session.”

“Have you spoken with her about this?” Samara asked, curious.

“No, not yet,” Miranda answered. Frankly, she didn't like going to see Kelly, even though it was compulsory to do so when events warranted it. Events such as reuniting with a long lost sister and watching an old friend die in front of her.

It was hard to trust that a grown adult could be that bubbly and optimistic without hiding some kind of ulterior motive. Her relentless cheerfulness rubbed Miranda the wrong way. But as long as Kelly gave the tick of approval that Miranda was competent to perform her duties then it was fine, she supposed.

“Will you write to The Illusive Man about today’s events?” Samara inquired.

“I always do. I report everything to him,” Miranda confirmed. Up to and including the contents of everyone’s mail. But that wasn’t to be publicised.

“I am aware,” Samara acknowledged, accustomed to Miranda’s routine, given how often she brought her work over. “For reasons that may soon become apparent, I will be speaking with Ms Chambers shortly. Will you be including my subsequent psychological evaluation in your correspondence to The Illusive Man?”

“Yes, and I sent him your first one after you came aboard,” Miranda stated the obvious, seeing no reason to deny that fact. There was no boundary she wouldn’t cross when it came to keeping The Illusive Man informed as to the strengths and weaknesses of his team. “Is that an issue?”

“It is not,” Samara replied, unperturbed. “You are obliged to carry out your duties, and you would fulfil them even were I to object, as I would mine. As you should.”

“Good,” said Miranda, glad to hear Samara appreciated what it meant to have responsibilities, unlike most of the other people Shepard had recruited. Every time Miranda did her job, they seemed to interpret it as an act of malice.

“I do not believe I ever properly thanked you for your assistance, on the day we met,” Samara continued, arising from the floor and moving to stand beside Miranda, her posture tall and upright, hands clasped behind her back.

“For helping you find the name of that ship? I can't claim much credit,” Miranda admitted. It wasn't humility, just reality. “Shepard makes those choices. My role is to ensure her decisions are carried out successfully, and to give counsel that perhaps isn't heeded as often as it ought to be. But I can't complain. Commander Shepard has proven to be an effective leader, by any measure.”

“Indeed. And the information she uncovered with your aid has been invaluable.” Miranda looked at Samara then, but there was no joy or righteous determination in her expression. “I have tracked the Demeter’s course. The criminal I have been hunting for the past four hundred years disembarked on Omega. I intend to inform Ms Chambers of this shortly, and Commander Shepard.”

“But you’re telling me first?” Miranda noted, somewhat surprised by that. Nobody ever told her anything first. Even Jacob didn’t always seem to fully trust what she’d do with the information.

“I gave you my word that I would bring it to your attention immediately if I became aware of any matter that may affect the mission, or my role in it,” Samara reminded her. Needless to say, Miranda remembered that conversation clearly. “I do not give my word without intending to keep it.”

“Huh. I didn’t think you meant that so literally but...thank you. I appreciate it,” said Miranda, impressed. Samara was nothing if not principled. She’d long since proven that Miranda’s initial instinct to show faith in her was well-placed. “I could pass this on, if you wanted,” she offered, since it would save Samara the trouble.

“No,” Samara politely refused, her speech devoid of inflection. Almost...hollow. “This is something I must discuss in person.”

“If you insist,” Miranda accepted that, even if she did find Samara's solemnity incongruous. That being said, Samara’s reasons for taking her pursuit so seriously were none of Miranda's business. She didn't need to interfere.

She was a Justicar, after all. Maybe they were always like this.

“Since we’re on the subject, there’s something I still haven’t managed to figure out about that day: would you really have killed Detective Anaya if we hadn’t secured your release?” Miranda asked, finding it eerie to ponder that the serene woman before her was capable of resorting to such extremes without remorse.

“Yes,” Samara answered plainly, as if that should have been self-evident, making eye-contact with Miranda. “Would you not be compelled to do the same if you were detained, thereby preventing you from obtaining crucial information concerning the Collectors, or from saving your sister from your father?”

Miranda arched an eyebrow. Was that a rhetorical question? “If there was no efficient alternative, yes. I would do whatever was necessary to escape. Of course I would.” Except, unlike Samara, she wouldn't have given them a day.

“Then you understand why I could not have done otherwise, though I would deeply regret each life I was forced to end. In those circumstances, to be merciful would be misguided. To deviate from The Code would tacitly permit a grave injustice,” Samara explained. Rational, not emotional. Much like Miranda.

“I guess that's my next question; what constitutes grave injustice according to your Code?” Miranda inquired, folding her arms across her chest, gauging Samara. Even though they'd spoken several times, she ultimately knew very little about her and the strict way of life she adhered to. “You remember that Eclipse mercenary Shepard let go – against my judgement, I might add. Would you have killed Detective Anaya if you were hunting her?”

“No. In most situations where pursuing a criminal would cause an innocent to come to harm, I would be required to break pursuit to save the innocent,” Samara told her, much to Miranda’s approval. It was a relief to hear that The Code was amenable to reason on that account. “Do not mistake my candour for ease; if ever I must resort to taking an innocent life, know that it is because the consequences of failing to do so would cause many more to be slain.”

“Is one, lone criminal that dangerous?” Miranda wondered aloud, inclined to be sceptical. After all, if she was some sort of terrorist or mass murderer, her reputation would have preceded her.

“Yes. This one is.” A faint shadow of sadness crept into Samara’s tone. Her gaze dipped, her eyes avoiding Miranda's once more. “Had I cowed in the face of my duty, the innumerable deaths that may have followed would be my responsibility, to an even greater extent than they already are.”

“What do you mean?” said Miranda, intrigued by her strange choice of words. What cause did Samara have to blame herself for the actions of another?

Samara remained silent for a long, heavy moment, visibly struggling with her thoughts, and whether or not to speak them. Eventually, she did.

“There is a rare condition, affecting only pure-blooded asari like myself, known as Ardat-Yakshi Syndrome,” Samara began, without facing her. “It manifests at maturity, rendering its sufferers unable to meld without fatally attacking the nervous systems of their partners. This experience is intoxicating – more addictive than any narcotic. Once an Ardat-Yakshi has tasted that euphoria, she inevitably craves it above all else, and will stop at nothing to attain it. She seeks out more victims to mate with, ensnaring their minds, feeding on them like prey.”

“How come I've never heard of this?” Miranda asked, perplexed. Surely this phenomenon would have been well-documented.

“That is no accident. Asari rarely speak of it, even among our own kind. Because of the danger they pose, Ardat-Yakshi are isolated from society. As such, the chances of encountering a rogue are negligible,” Samara replied, her tone unchanging. “Nevertheless, if other species were to become aware that there are even a minute number of asari who will murder any and all who meld with them, one could only begin to imagine the fear and hostility that would engender.”

“That's hardly a consolation for the people who get drained dry. I mean, these asari are sexual predators, in every possible sense. Their potential victims can't protect themselves from something like that without knowing the risk exists. Yet you make it sound like you condone this secrecy,” Miranda inferred, taken aback by that. She would have expected better from Samara.

“What I do or do not condone is irrelevant,” Samara responded, continuing to stare ahead, avoiding Miranda’s direct line of sight. “What I described is merely the prevailing view.”

“I see.” Miranda withdrew her objection, dropping the issue. It wasn't fair to blame Samara for the attitudes of other asari. After all, Samara seemed determined to ensure this wasn't swept under the rug, and that innocent people were protected, regardless of their species or what corner of the galaxy they were in. “So, the criminal you're hunting is an Ardat-Yakshi?”

“Yes,” Samara removed any doubt.

“You said you’ve pursued her for four hundred years. How many people has she killed?” Miranda asked, intrigued to learn more about Samara’s quarry.

“I cannot answer that question. However, if I provided you with a conservative estimate, the number would be so high that you would swear I was deceiving you,” Samara stated, her melancholy eyes remaining firm as she spoke.

Miranda knew better than to suspect Samara of exaggerating. It had already become abundantly clear that speaking falsely was counter to her nature.

“Only pure-blooded asari can have this disease,” Miranda recalled, glancing aside as rather a grim prospect occurred to her, one that might have explained why Samara took this hunt so personally. “Are you an Ardat-Yakshi?”

“No, I am not.” Samara shook her head. Miranda unconsciously relaxed a tiny bit. Not because she would have thought any differently of Samara if she did have such a condition, given that she obviously wasn't a danger to anyone who didn't deserve it, but— “However, I am a carrier of the syndrome.”

“A carrier?” Miranda echoed, blinking as the puzzle pieces swiftly fell into place. “She's your daughter,” Miranda voiced her abrupt realisation aloud.

“That is correct,” Samara regretfully confessed, letting her head dip slightly, her features reflected in the window against the vast, cold void beyond.

“...Oh,” was all Miranda could utter in reply. Not that she was particularly shocked, she was just...blank. She didn't know what to say. How did people normally react to being confronted with a private revelation of that nature?

“You are the first person I have shared this with aboard this ship,” Samara continued, saving Miranda from having to stitch together an appropriate choice of words at that news. “I would prefer that this remain between us, until such time as I can explain my circumstances to Commander Shepard. It is crucial to me that she appreciates why I can not afford to delay.”

“Of course. You don't even need to ask,” Miranda assured her. It went without saying that this story wasn't hers to divulge. “Nobody will hear about this from me without your consent.” Not even The Illusive Man, Miranda added internally.

“I thank you for that, most sincerely,” said Samara, genuinely grateful that Miranda took her confidence seriously. “Take heart in the fact that you will not have to keep your silence for very long. This matter is of the utmost urgency.”

“Yes, I gathered that,” Miranda responded, certain Samara would not abide any needless delay. Every moment she waited was giving her daughter another opportunity to snatch an unsuspecting life away. “I still have to finish my report about what happened on Illium today. If you'd rather speak to Yeoman Chambers right away, I can put off my appointment until after you’ve seen her.”

“Very well.” Samara bowed her head, an indication that she would take advantage of that offer. With that, Miranda turned to head towards the door, prepared to leave Samara in peace.

“Miranda?” Samara stopped her, prompting her to glance back over her shoulder. Samara’s upright stance remained unchanged from the first moment she had adopted it. “Do you feel as though I have wasted your time by telling you this?”

“No,” Miranda replied without hesitation, her crinkled brow betraying her confusion that Samara even felt the need to ask that. Of course she didn’t.

“Then I ask you: why would you presume my feelings would be any different when our roles are reversed?” said Samara, a perceptive spark twinkling in the reflection of her sage stare. Maybe that was just a glimmer of starlight.

Miranda blinked, Samara's meaning swiftly sinking in. “...Apparently they're not.”

“Indeed.” Samara elegantly drew back from the window and folded her legs beneath her, resuming her meditation. “Farewell, Miranda. May we speak again.”

Miranda didn't really know what to make of that, departing the room in silence. Suffice it to say, she was still rather stunned to think about how much that conversation challenged her preconceived notions about Samara – notions Miranda hadn’t even known she had, consciously or otherwise.

In truth, she’d never really asked herself those questions about Samara’s past – what her background was, what motivated her to become a Justicar, whether she had a family or children. Miranda hadn’t pondered it because she hadn’t thought the answers were pertinent to the mission. But maybe they were. And, more so, maybe it no longer mattered if they weren’t.

Clearly, there was a hell of a lot more going on beneath Samara's cool exterior than Miranda had previously contemplated. And perhaps Miranda was doing her a disservice by not endeavouring to get to know that side of her better.

* * *

#fic #miranda lawson #samara #mass effect #femslash

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fair-fae · 6 years

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I would deeply appreciate it if you could help me. BalmungBlunders thinks that it's appropriate that they can act anonymously without consequence while attempting to ruin the names and reputations of others. We as a community should come together to ask them to disclose who the moderators are so that we can develop a fully informed opinion of their claims. I ask only because I know you have more reach than I could ever hope to.

Hello, anon! I understand your concerns and completely agree that BalmungBlunders should be shut down and their moderator(s) exposed, and we should do what we can to impede their blog further slinging mud. Unfortunately, several people on and off anon have already asked them to give the name of their moderator(s), as well as expressed their concerns about the blog in general, only to be met with snarky and rude responses. Their total lack of regard for the community’s concerns and criticisms; the needlessly insult-riddled, hyperbolic, and opinion-filled attempts at calling out people they claim are predatory; and their willingness to publish every accusation they get with no vetting, no transparency, no evidence provided, and no time taken to look into the matter themselves has proven to me that they do not have an ounce of sincerity. Even their intentions are not good, and their claim of their goal being to help the community is a shallow farce meant to justify their actions and try to rally others to support them (and some have unfortunately fallen for it). tl;dr they’re asshats who don’t care what other people think and feel, so I feel even more demands for them to expose themselves will be a waste of time.I have some suggestions for what we as a community can do instead:1. Don’t participate. Do not send them your logs, or your negative opinions on other people, or your callout posts. You sincerely think someone is a danger to the community and others deserve to know? Then do it on your own blog. “I want to be anon so I’m not harassed” is no excuse–anytime you name drop someone else they could potentially be harassed for it, which they don’t deserve no matter what awful thing they did, so if you aren’t willing to take that same risk for yourself for a good cause, then it’s obviously not something you consider that worthwhile or are prepared to do at this time. BalmungBlunders is not the platform to use. Do not invite more attention to a blog that only exists to breed hate and negativity and spur drama and rumors. Your claims will be lost in a sea of bullshit there anyway. The blog is a platform for anyone to say any nasty thing they feel like anon with no proof or legitimacy needed. Don’t support that, and if you have real issues you want to expose, don’t get them entangled in that mess of mud-slinging.2. Don’t support them. Don’t follow their blog. Don’t like or reblog their posts. Don’t leave them encouraging replies or asks. Don’t link them to your friends. Don’t support or signalboost any of the claims made there or take them seriously, even if it’s about someone you don’t like, even if you know it’s true. Again, even if maybe one call out is legitimate, spreading it around isn’t worth calling more attention to that blog largely just full of baseless hate. Find another avenue if you’re so inclined.3. At this point, I would recommend not even trying to take them seriously or reason with them. They don’t care one bit. They thrive on the controversy and attention. Everyone has already brought up every concern to them that there is, and they have given smarmy responses of “sounds like you’re a pedophile too :^)” and “if you’re mad, you’re part of the problem.” They don’t give a shit, and they want to laugh at you giving a shit. Don’t let them. If you want to send them messages, spam their inbox with stupid, asinine shit. Flood their askbox so much they can’t look through the senseless shitposts you’ve sent to find the accusations people are sending them to publish.4. Hold others accountable. If you see people sincerely reblogging or linking their posts or parroting the things said them, if you notice your friend taking the blunders blog seriously or thinking their brand of harassment is funny, confront them. Tell them it’s not cool. Explain to them why it’s an issue. Tell them it’s not okay. Make BalmungBlunders the butt of every joke and express your fervent disapproval on your own blog. Let others know that what’s happening is not okay and they shouldn’t be on board with it.5. Expose them, because they won’t expose themselves. Whoever is running the blog is so smug and arrogant I have no doubt that they have or will boast and laugh to people about running it. If you know who is involved with the blog and you have proof, expose them. Someone dragging others’ names through the mud like this and facilitating the community to spread baseless accusations does not deserve to have their own anonymity and privacy protected.

#discourse

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themagnumnopus-blog · 6 years

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You have delusions of persecution and worms in your brain

As promised to a friend. How bad could I possibly be?

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A Prologue To More: Weep for you have failed.“I may not agree with you, but I will defend to the death your right to make an ass of yourself." - Oscar Wilde

You lack originality and you couldn't be funny if you tried.

At least between the two of us, even with worms in my head, I know something's there.

You're a fool without compare and I'll kick your derriere in any conversation you can bring. You are a whining little brat that is so flat you couldn't think of any way to fight what I say. You are vapid in the head without a thought behind or to your conviction, you have already proven that by using your own contradiction, your hypocrisy is plain and you failed to come at me with a brain. You simply have an addiction to your stupidity as anyone that reads this can see. You can't stand in a debate or even speculate that you can against me, because of your propensity to lie. If you think that you might win I beg you think again because I'm really quite a nice gal or guy. I mock and shame you. I unlike you do not seek to defame you. I simply state what I see, you must have a reason you're afraid of what I say. So I will say it louder and say it prouder because you try to take my voice away.

re·tard - delay or hold back in terms of progress, development, or accomplishment.

Now if you think you have a chance come forth to let us have a dance. If I'm really a fool I can't win but you've lost before you've started and I assert you're retarded and that you simply retard whatever argument you make. I do not seek to offend you but if you think that you can seek to quiet me, you simply seek to retard society. Well hey, what do you say? I say I'll take you any day and indeed will take you any time. Oh, yes. Let me wait. It's fine. I just get more time to strengthen my debate, I don't mind. Gather whatever you might, a fool's facts are my delight, they're so easy to debunk and I'll just cut your argument down chunk by chuck. For every inch in the arena, you think you'll take I will beat you back, yard by yard. With a club of facts, I'll beat you back all the way to denial and laugh all the while. You are simply an unarmed child.

I win.

Prove that I have "delusions of persecution" , whatever you might mean by that, prove that I am of a race or gender or sex that I have talked about, defended and furthermore prove me wrong. If it's a delusion it is self-evident in the real world that I'm wrong. Whatever you think I'm wrong about. Even if you prove that I am one of the groups I defended you've done nothing but waste your time. This isn't about me or you as a person it's about our ideas.

A quote I love and it fits perfectly here, it's been attributed to a lot of people but the contents are so exacting here it's hilarious. "Great Minds Discuss Ideas; Average Minds Discuss Events; Small Minds Discuss People." - Eleanor RooseveltFace Me in the Arena: A few thousand words about the ten that could not quiet me. Part One: The BallThere is a term for when a debate or conversation over ideas political or otherwise brakes down into name calling and attacks on character. It's commonly accepted that if you have to resort to name calling or attacks on the character of your opponent you have lost. You've attacked me like a coward and now I have sympathy from whoever sees that. Your small minded hateful message you tried to quite me with has now backfired. You have tied the knot, put it around your neck and I have just pushed you off. To beat me you now have to get back on my level and try to take me off whatever high ground I clearly occupied. Good luck. You have played me an easy win by not playing the game but attacking the player. This is your penalty. You lose.That is why I always stay civil and try to approach a conversation from a neutral and objective perspective. Never claim something you can't prove when it comes to political and real-world philosophical beliefs. If I say that the West has a problem with misandry, I promise I have a reason to believe so and that proof can be found, if I say that socialism is creating fascists, the same, if say that anti-white sentiment is creating anti-white extremists and in turn creating white supremacists, you darn dootally better believe I can more then likely prove it. Buuuuuuuuut now I don't have to, the burden is on you, you poor little cretin. You have attacked me. You now have to prove me wrong or be laughed at as an idiot. The best part is I know you can't or you would have A) tried to do so publicly or B) sent proof. As to what you're calling me names over, hilariously, I don't know. I don't know what your upset over. I don't need to now through by simple fact you have shot anything you say in the foot by attacking me like a petulant child with name calling and baseless accusations.You have given me the ball by failing your argument before you've even tried to make it. If you have no way to disprove my statements then you have to attack me, discredit me, try to make me be quiet? How weak is your point of view, your argument, your belief in what you have to say that you can't defend it? How weak is it that you're afraid to talk with someone who you claim has worms in their head. What? Are afraid to lose to some you clearly think is stupid?Part 2: Hy·poc·ri·sy I bet money you claim to be against bullies, against oppression, maybe you call yourself a good person and think that you have the right to say the above. You have said what you have to me because of a difference of opinion. I think that you are the worst kind of person because of this.“Of all the tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under the omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber barons cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end, for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.” - C. S. LewisYou have every right to say whatever you please, you really do in my opinion but I'll be damned if you have the right or think you have the right to try and keep people silent based on a difference of opinion. If you think I have a complex, it should be so self-evident that you have absolute proof and objective truth to the contrary, no matter what it is. I think you're projecting and have a victim complex, you are not the target of anyone least of all me. I don't care about you, your narrative or your emotional situation. What? Do you have a sob story? I'll give you a better one that I can prove. I'm here for the truth, willing to change my point of view for facts and proof. If you don't like it? Tough shit. I don't care. I will not be dissuaded by emotional pleas. If you have proof use it. Now is the time.I have never sent hate mail, I have never blocked anyone (not even the person that sent this), this is the first hate mail I've ever had sent to me and I state and stand by for a fact that I cannot be made afraid by pathetic cowards that can't even make a statement. I will gut you like this if you send anon hate to me. It will be public and I will laugh at you and everyone else that reads it will laugh at you. You have no power here or anywhere else, least of all over me. I am no one's enemy. If you come to me in good faith and as a human to another human for an honest conversation, public or private, I'm willing to talk and be friendly. You get what you put in with me.Part 3: I Laugh at Thee“Freedom of speech is not only the right to say as you please, it is also the right to have what you say contested, and where it does not accord with reason - refuted, or with sense - ridiculed.” - David Joseph Cribbin, father crowI and anyone else reading has watched your ten unprovable, undefendable, small-minded words be turned into thousands against you and is laughing with me at you right now. You look like a twit, I have made a twit of you and you deserve it. You have run into my arena an unarmed opponent and been gutted for it. I'm not sorry to anyone, most of all you. If you think that I can be refuted then do so. I have every right to offend you with what I say, though it is not my intention, the truth can be offensive sometimes and as a human, you need to learn how to deal with that. I am a human of liberty and...“If liberty means anything at all, it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear.” - George OrwellPart 4: Why I Gut You.“The problem with today’s world is that everyone believes they have the right to express their opinion AND have others listen to it. The correct statement of individual rights is that everyone has the right to an opinion, but crucially, that opinion can be roundly ignored and even made fun of, particularly if it is demonstrably nonsense!” - Brian CoxI condemn in my harshest and most potent terms any and all people who prompt, advocate for or send messages like this to anyone regardless of what you think. Never hate or hate bomb anyone, ever, for any for any reason. Again ever. You give them absolute power and make yourself look like the villain, I have garnered sympathy and ran hundreds of words against this person already and I'm not even done yet, I'm lambasting and laughing at their poorly thought out insult to prove a point. They came to me so anything I do at this point is justified in the eyes of anyone looking at this. If you read this I'm sorry you misstepped and fell on a land mine face first. You came to me to get this.I make fun of you because your pitiful attempt at silencing me is in and of itself demonstrable nonsense and makes you look weak. Bullies are generally weak, using fear and work using crowd based courage and/or anonymity to strike at people that they can't actually fight and win or are not sure they can fight and win. I will never be silenced by cowards, my mind will be changed by humans that can prove what they believe and do not have to resort to childish small-minded attacks on character. Especially one so ill-founded. I will listen to anyone who wishes to speak with me as a person. BUT even to my attacker above, I still offer the hand freely, come talk to me, privet or public. Seriously. About whatever you have a problem with me over. We can sort it out. You had a reason to think this was okay, which it never is but I would actually love to hear it. Again I don't care if you apologize or not, that's not my concern. I beyond what you might think am just an honest person that honestly wants to talk, change minds and have us grow. Childish things like this hate message retard us as a society, as a people, as the human race.Part 5: I Pick My Battles“To a coward, courage always looks like stupidity.” - Bill MaherSome people may think I'm stupid for taking the stance I do on bullies and bullying, on hate. Just block people, just do this, just do that, etc. I don't care what other people do to shitty little bullies but are they going away? No, they aren't. They are going to bully someone else that might not be able to take it, until you challenge them, make them realize how they look and have everyone laugh at them. People generally don't like being mean to other people but they don't realize is that that doesn't stop cretins like this, challenge them. They think they are in the right. Prove them wrong.I'm a really nice person but in order to be worth the respect I offer freely, you have to treat me with the respect I deserve as a human. I have no problem putting down this type of person or putting myself out in the open while I do. Don't let these people threaten you, put them out in the open and laugh at them while you challenge them. Demand proof. If they had the proof they would use it but they don't and even if they did have proof of me or anyone else being specifically anything then they also have to prove that the bias they accuse you of exist. Refute the proof, provide counterproof and make counter accusations. I'll prove without reasonable doubt this person has a victim complex about the time they prove I have "delusions of persecution." For me, it just doesn't stick and I know it doesn't. I treat everyone with the same even-handed respect I expect. So instead of wasting hours trying to prove I fall into the groups, I talk about, to simply still be at square one again when I say 'Okay. Whatever. Now, prove me wrong.' Just make a statement and provide some level of proof. It's not personal. You don't need to make it personal.I never attack a person or people. Definitely not when I can fight an idea and this is exactly why. Even if you win in that respect and sway people to not like me based on character, that's not enough to win. You're costing yourself the war. You have won a battle that you and a fraction of a percent of people care about. If you win that battle and somehow prove I'm a card-carrying member of the kkk or some such nonsense. You've wasted time and energy that could have been used trying to beat my point and you still have to beat it. Call me a pedo, call me a Nazi, call me any insult, make any kind of accusation and I'll just say 'Prove it' and wait. Then if, well, when you can't I'll just call you a liar and you know you have to try and win that back. All before you even start to work on my end of the debate. I'm a smart person, I pick my battles and give no ground to anyone without cost. Without exacting, bloody, and hilarious cost. While people juggle narratives I trip them up with facts. Fight me in a fair and even exchange of political ideas and you might just prove a point. As far as your ten-word attempt goes, even if you prove I have a complex of my own and actually am stupid what you don't realize is . . . you now have to beat the idiot. I hope I've made it plain and painfully clear how hard that's going to be.Part 6: Here's The Close“Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.” - United Nations, Universal Declaration of Human RightsI only seek to hold opinions without interference as I also seek to receive and impart information. I have done nothing in the above other than impart knowledge and nothing that could be constrained by the rules that govern the civil world. Welcome to humanity those who make it here, come and talk. Drop me a supportive message or a difference of opinion, I welcome all and if you're not comfortable talking to me directly simply drop a message in as an anon, I will never disable it or my asks. I will never block anyone. Just be prepared to talk civilly. If you don't like what I say, you are free to leave or personal preference on my end express distaste. I don't want to be stuck in an echo chamber like whoever sent me the hate mail and thought it was okay.If I can take ten off-handed words and stretch that into an almost three-thousand-word public chastisement. Only six words short actually. Now if I can do that, what do you think I can do to a bad argument? Again though we could just not. Anyone, as said, can come to me and talk with respect, invite some much-needed dialogue. Never know but in the end, it is your choice. Not mine.Last quote...“You can't expect someone to understand your journey, when they've hardly lived one of their own.” - Nikki Rowe, Once a Girl, Now a WomanYou don't know me but you could so I will offer in honesty and with respect. Join my journey going forward, let's talk. Door's open to anyone. :)

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unpopularly-opinionated · 6 years

Text

Refutation of Male Privilege

Aight, so this is going to make little sense because it was meant to be a direct reply to a post that I later found out after writing all this that it was the wrong post so I’m a bit chuffed and going to post this anyways.

It still works as a separate post, just know that all of the points I’m refuting came from someone else. I’m not going to tag anyone because honestly I’d rather not get into how I rebutted the wrong post but if they want to come to my blog and reblog this to laugh at me they can feel free, I deserve it.

Alright, let's take the time to dissect this and see how many of these are genuine privileges. Now, I could just do what this guy did and make a bunch of miscellaneous baseless claims, but I'll try to provide whatever evidence I can for some of these claims.

1. My odds of being hired for a job, when competing against female applicants, are probably skewed in my favor. The more prestigious the job, the larger the odds are skewed.

- Referring back to the "baseless claims" bit I mentioned, I love that this says the odds are "probably" skewed in men's favor.

Here we can see that even when removing the name and gender on applications to attempt to help diversity, men are actually MORE likely to be hired if their gender isn't known than if it is known. If the known gender is male they're roughly 3.2% less likely to be hired, whereas if the known gender is female they're roughly 2.9% more likely to be hired.

Here we can see that on average more men are applying for jobs than women, but more women are actually getting those jobs. Women are roughly 36% more likely to receive the jobs they apply for than men are.

However, so I don't come across as disingenuous, I will say that there is perhaps an issue when it comes to women in technology, but as this article shows, it's less of a 'men oppressing women' scenario and more of a 'society overall think women can't math' scenario.

Since you seem relatively informed on some aspects I'll assume you already know that some fields are dominated by men, and others by women, so gender disparity is common in the job market but it's hardly a sexist issue and more of a societal issue, I suppose, if you really want to consider it an issue at all.

2. I can be confident in the fact that my co-workers won’t think that I was hired/promoted because of my sex - despite the fact that it’s probably true.

I don't really understand this one at all. Given that I've already shown that if the applicant is a known male then they are less likely to be hired we can already write this one off, but even if that weren't the case, I don't really understand how or why this would be an issue.

3. If I ever am promoted when a woman of my peers is better suited for the job, it is because of my sex.

Not necessarily true, but also not impossible. It could be for any number of reasons. She didn't apply for the promotion, she didn't want the promotion, she couldn't handle the extra work/hours, or it could even be a case of nepotism which I know isn't much better than sexism but hey at least it's not because you're a woman.

4. If I ever fail at my job or career, it won’t be seen as a blacklist against my sex’s capabilities.

Much like #2, I don't actually know what this is referring to. Is it like if a woman fails a job everyone will think ALL women fail at that job? If so, I suppose that's possible, though I've never really heard of that happening (which doesn't mean it doesn't). However, this does fall under just an opinion some people have, which isn't really a widespread problem more of an individual problem.

The issue is I notice a lot of these points are about sexism in general, which I'm not arguing doesn't happen, I'm arguing that men don't oppress women. So anything opinion-based like this is more or less irrelevant to my argument, making it hard to argue with.

5. I am far less likely to face sexual harassment than my female peers.

Though I disagree with the wording here a bit, this is arguably a genuine point. I disagree that men are "far less likely" to face sexual harassment in the workplace since it's about 1 in 2 women, and 1 in 3 men. So while technically true that they are less likely to face sexual harassment, it's not FAR less likely, but perhaps I'm just being nit picky.

However, the article also points out that it's not like no one is addressing sexual harassment against women in the workplace. There are plenty of people pointing it out and studies being done in attempts to enact changes so I expect change will come soon. As for sexual harassment against men...who honestly knows.

6. If I do the same task as a woman, and if the measurement is at all subjective, chances are people will think I did a better job.

I actually don't know how to quantify this. As far as I can tell there hasn't been a study on this, and it also falls under an opinion-based argument making it difficult for me to really credit it.

Again, I'm not saying sexism doesn't happen, I'm just saying men aren't oppressing women. If people think men are doing better than women, then that's an individual issue. Once it starts impacting a woman's choices in the workplace is when it becomes a workplace issue, and on average women aren't making less money than men so it doesn't really appear that it is affecting them much if at all.

7. If I am a teen or an adult, and I stay out of prison, my odds of getting raped are relatively low.

I won't lie, I find the oddly specific nature of this statement to be a bit disgusting and disingenuous. It's discrediting a large majority of men that are raped on the basis that they're in prison so...what, they don't matter?

Not to mention, there is still a huge stigma revolving around whether or not men can even be raped, which obviously lead to a severe lack of men actually reporting whether or not they had been raped and/or sexually assaulted.

It's only recently that society has actually started to take rape against men seriously, and more men are finally coming out of the woodwork to report the tragedies that befell them.

So sure, if you really want to be disingenuous and discredit a majority of the victims, I guess you can call this a point.

8. On average, I’m taught that walking alone after dark by myself is less than dangerous than it is for my female peers.

This I would argue is a societal issue more than a sexism issue, but that's really just my personal opinion on the topic.

Many parents tell their kids Santa Claus is real, but that doesn't make it true. I know growing up with a sister relatively my same age, whenever she wanted to go to the park or down the street to 7-11 I was told she couldn't go without me. But I also know that (as far as she let on) my sister was never afraid of going outside alone (still isn't really at 20) whereas I was afraid. Not to the point where I never leave the house obviously, I walk to and from work in the dead of night all the time, but whenever I see suspicious-looking people I feel just as afraid as it's typically presumed women feel when walking alone at night.

I'm smart enough to know that these are, more or less, irrational fears so it's not like I walk around carrying a weapon, or go around complaining about how endangered I feel or any of that nonsense. I'm just a naturally over-cautious person.

I'm not saying shit doesn't happen, and specifically to women, I'm just saying not every women is, or needs to be, afraid, and not every man isn't, or doesn't need to be, afraid because in reality shit can happen to anyone.

9. If I choose not to have children, my masculinity will not be questioned.

This, obviously, falls under another opinion-based argument. Who cares if people think you're manly/womanly enough? However, I will argue that as a gay man with some slight disdain towards children, or the concept of having them, my man card has been challenged for not wanting to start a Typical American Family™ but you could argue that was more of a homophobic comment than a sexist comment I suppose if you really wanted to.

10. If I do have children but I do not provide primary care for them, my masculinity will not be questioned.

I don't actually know where this came from, this rather seems like an argument from two or more decades ago, and again it is an opinion-based argument as well. You could also argue this is a societal issue as well, I suppose.

Given that mothers are (likely) easily more emotionally attached to their children than the fathers are since, you know, they kinda birthed them and all that jazz, it makes sense why people did associate women as the primary caregivers, however as time moves on it's becoming less acceptable for the father to not play a role in the child's life.

11. If I have children and I do care for them, I’ll be praised even if my care is only marginally competent.

It's a privilege to be praised for trying to be a good parent? There's no one right way to be a parent, but there certainly are plenty of wrong ways. Like as long as your kids are healthy, happy, and cared for I don't see why you shouldn't be praised, and I know both men and women are praised for parenting.

Usually men are considered incompetent when it comes to caring for children which is another social stigma against men.

12. If I have children and a career, no one will think I’m selfish for not staying at home.

Opinion-based argument, yet again, because it's irrelevant how others feel about you, but regardless it's different for every case.

If you're a single father w/ a kid you probably have to work a lot to care for yourself and the kid, even more so if you have more than one kid, and unless you're leaving your 3-year-old at home unattended it doesn't make sense why you would be considered selfish for providing for you and your child. The same goes for a single mother w/ kid/s.

If you're married w/ kid/s then it's not unusual for one of you to stay home while the other brings home the bread but it's also not unusual for both parents to be working either, and as I said in the previous point, as long as your kid/s are healthy, happy, and cared for I don't think anyone is going to give a rats ass if you spend money on yourself or whatever is deemed "selfish" in this point.

13. If I seek political office, my relationship with my children or who I deem to take care of them will more often not be scrutinized by the press.

I don't know what this refers to. Voters won't care if you're a politician who doesn't take care of his kids? I feel like this falls under the same response as the previous two points. As long as your kids are healthy, happy, and cared for, no one cares.

If you're neglecting your kid/s well-being to run for a political office, man or woman, people are going to give you shit about it if they find out. This is also another opinion-based argument.

I feel like a broken record having to reiterate that many of these are opinion-based arguments. That doesn't mean they aren't necessarily valid, it just means they're far less important because they essentially revolve around how someone/s feel about you which is inarguable because a person's opinions of another are their own business.

14. My elected representatives are mostly people of my own sex. The more prestigious the position, the more this is true.

This one is true, but is irrelevant. You could claim it's a societal issue if you really wanted to, but it's not a sexism issue. Women are running for political positions and they have every bit of the same chance at winning that any man that runs has. There are more women in the US than men overall, so the fact that women don't hold political positions of power is not because of sexism, it's just because no one wants to vote for them.

This is far beyond a dead beaten horse, but Hillary almost became president. Technically speaking, a majority overall wanted her to be president. You cannot in this reality argue that sexism is what prevented her from winning, when a majority of the country voted for her regardless of her gender.

Also, who cares? Male politicians have just as much responsibility for their female constituents as female politicians do for their male constituents, and there is no gendered-knowledge that ONLY a man could understand or ONLY a woman could understand. We're capable of learning anything the opposite sex can learn, so there's no reason why there needs to be a certain number of male and female politicians.

15. When I seek out “the person in charge", it is likely that they will be someone of my own sex. The higher the position, the more often this is true.

Depending on your field, this is either true or untrue. As stated long ago, men and women dominate different fields. Also as stated before, while true, it's irrelevant. Men and women are just as capable of holding those positions as each other, and as I covered earlier on, when the gender is known, it turns out women are more likely to be hired than men.

I would also argue that this falls under what I said previously, who cares? Truly, how does it affect you to have to interact with someone above you who is of the opposite sex? If you take an issue with that, that's a personal issue you yourself have to deal with. Just because you may be a woman does not mean you are required to have a female in charge of you, that's just not how life works. 16. As a child, chances are I am encouraged to be more active and outgoing than my sisters.

This would fall under a societal issue, something that having mentioned this many times I feel like I should explain what I personally mean by that. A societal issue to me is an issue that equally affects both genders, meaning it's not necessarily 'sexist towards women' or 'sexist towards men' because it's an issue revolving around gender that affects both sexes.

This affects boys and girls because obviously some boys aren't active and outgoing while some girls are, and vice versa. It's an issue, don't get me wrong, but it's an issue that affects both sides, so to call it a 'male privilege' is disingenuous.

17. As a child, I could choose from an almost infinite variety of children’s media featuring positive, active, non-stereotyped heroes of my own sex. I never had to look for it; male protagonists were (and are) the default.

I honestly have to wonder if this is coming from the perspective of a 50-60-year old because as a 20-year old I never had this experience growing up. There's also a lot to break down here, since it specifies "positive, active, non-stereotyped heroes" and "male protagonists" and "children's media" which attempts to narrow it down to minutiae.

It reminds me of the point that disregarded male inmates in prison. It's like if we have a parking lot of 10 cars total: 7 red and 3 blue, and someone says 'If we ignore the red cars, blue cars make up 100% of the cars in the parking lot.' It's misleading and disingenuous, but I digress.

What do we consider children's media? Or positive, active, non-stereotyped characters? Or heroes? Or protagonists? I can think of PLENTY of great female protagonists, but I don't know that many, or any at all, would fall under the very narrow guidelines set by this point.

There's a majority of the Disney films for example, but do you consider those positive, active, or non-stereotyped? Daphne and Velma from Scooby Doo were amazing role models for girls growing up. Kim Possible, Jenny the Teenage Robot, Princess Bubblegum and Marceline from Adventure Time (arguably more recent), Powerpuff Girls, Hermione from Harry Potter, Paikaea from Whale Rider, were all children's shows/movies with strong female characters.

18. As a child, chances are I got more teacher attention than girls who raised their hands just as often.

Honestly, you'll have a very rough time trying to argue sexism against girls, at least, in the K-12 education system considering girls are above and beyond out-achieving boys when it comes to academics.

As far as I could tell there is all of one study done on this very specific topic, but clearly it's not having much of an impact since again, girls are out-performing boys, and not by a small margin either.

19. If my day, week or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether or not it has sexist overtones. (Nobody’s going to ask if I’m upset because I’m menstruating.)

Now these are two different statements here. The former says, as a man, you don't need to ask yourself if you're having a bad time because of sexism. The latter says, as a man, no one is going to ask you if you're upset because you're on your period. I'm not too sure why they were combined when they are two different topics, but nonetheless I'll rebut them.

I'm not sure I really understand why the former statement matters. Man or woman, sexism can have some impact on how your life is going, I suppose. Neither need to really consider it though.

I mean this seems to imply women just sit down after a bad week and say to themselves: 'Everything wrong with my life is because of sexism' and while MANY members of one or more social groups (that I won't name as they're irrelevant to this discussion) tend to give off that impression, I highly doubt many women actually blame everything bad in their lives on sexism, nor could they justify it if they do.

The latter statement I'll admit is likely valid, and would be sexist in nature I suppose. Men sometimes joke with each other that one of them is on their period if they're upset, but obviously there are some sex-related overtones regarding the use of that joke.

20. I can turn on the television or glance at the front page of the newspaper and see people of my own sex widely represented.

This isn't even an argument. The same can EASILY be said about women as well, so it's irrelevant.

21. If I’m careless with my financial affairs it won’t be attributed to my sex.

I don't know about you but all of the whimsical big spenders in my life have been male. I suppose this probably has something to do with the stereotype that women will spend all of their husband's money, and while there is some validity in calling that out, I would argue men are seen as whimsical big spenders too, if not as much as women. Men tend to gamble more while women tend to shop more, so it's kind of a moot point.

22. If I’m careless with my driving it won’t be attributed to my sex.

Depends on your definition of 'careless', because I would argue road rage is commonly attributed to men and I would consider that to be careless driving. Now, if you wanted to make a RACIAL issue out of this, then I'd be inclined to agree with you more as bad driving is commonly attributed to Asian people.

23. I can speak in public to a large group without putting my sex on trial.

I really can't pinpoint or even infer what this could relate to. Women have to announce before every speech: 'Oh yeah, by the way, I'm a woman in case you couldn't tell'? Elaboration might be required for me to respond to that.

24. Even if I sleep with a lot of women, there is little to no chance that I will be seriously labeled a “slut,” nor is there any male counterpart to “slut-bashing.”

Considering 'slut' is, much like 'bitch', a colloquially gendered-term, sure you could say there is less of a chance a man will be called a slut, though really that hasn't stopped people from calling men sluts before. I'd argue 'man whore' is the male version of 'slut' though and is pretty commonly used.

As for 'slut-bashing' for men, I don't think there's necessarily a word for it, but it's not always considered a great thing for a man to sleep with a lot of women, despite what some would claim. Anecdotal though this may be, I've never actually heard a man say that other men praise other men for sleeping with a bunch of women, I've only heard a select group of women claiming that men do this, so I really can't attest that men do this.

As for gay men however, I can attest that sleeping around with many partners is attributed to gay men and usually (though not in my personal opinion) considered a normal thing for gays to do.

25. I do not have to worry about the message my wardrobe sends about my sexual availability.

I'd argue this is mildly debatable as guys who work out tend to wear shirts that reveal more of their muscles, but arguably it is women who are more concerned with their wardrobe choices, sure.

This didn't outright mention women worrying about what they wear so they don't get raped, but I feel like that was a subtle message meant to be implied by this statement. If so, I'd argue this is kind of a Catch-22 because of the stigma that what a woman wears determines whether or not she's more or less likely to be raped, which is further fueled by women worrying about what they wear to less-likely be raped.

In other words, worrying about what you wear implies it has any relevance in you getting raped which only adds to the stigma which makes more women worry about what they wear, perpetuating the cycle endlessly.

26. My clothing is typically less expensive and better-constructed than women’s clothing for the same social status. While I have fewer options, my clothes will probably fit better than a woman’s without tailoring.

This is carefully worded to appear like this is a privilege for men and an issue for women, but it's a non-issue. This relates to the mythical pink tax debate, which much like the wage gap, has above and beyond been disproved. The fact is that women's products are made with more expensive (or just more quantity-wise) materials than men's products are, which is why they are more expensive.

Men's clothing is less expensive and better constructed because it's usually just a simple piece with very little (if any) added decor, making it easily mass produced. Women's clothing tends to have a lot of frivolous decorations like lace, beads, buttons, etc. that have to be handmade and hand-sewn onto the garment, which increases the labor cost in making it, thus making it more expensive to purchase.

There are expensive decorated clothing for men, just as there are inexpensive plain clothing for women. Not to mention, women can easily buy men's clothing and not have to deal with as big of a stigma wearing men's clothing as men have to deal with wearing women's clothing, so there is that. It's all in the choices you make buying them that determines how much money you spend.

27. The grooming regimen expected of me is relatively cheap and consumes little time.

As for the expenses of grooming, that easily falls under the pink tax myth I mentioned above. Women aren't forced to get the expensive haircuts, manicures, pedicures, makeovers, etc. They can just as easily get a simple haircut, clip their nails, and go without makeup like men do. It's really not a big deal.

As for the expectation, that's subjective. Obviously, no matter how much makeup you use, not everyone is going to find you attractive. Some may even find you less attractive depending on your use of makeup, I don't know. I would argue the 'expectation' aspect falls under a matter of opinion, because it doesn't matter how attractive other people find you, but it could also be a social issue that everyone endures.

You're (typically) expected to look relatively clean and not smell when out in public. Beyond that, expectations are entirely on you. And even with those expectations, you can choose to ignore them and go out having not showered in a week wearing baggy sweatpants with bedhead, etc. whatever. It's entirely up to you. You can't fault people for not wanting to interact with you like that though, it's not because you're a woman, it's because you look (and probably smell) disgusting.

28. If I buy a new car, chances are I’ll be offered a better price than a woman buying the same car. The same goes for other expensive merchandise.

I have never ever heard of this concept before, in fact I've heard the exact opposite. This would easily fall under a female privilege list were I to make one (which at this point I probably should). Women tend to get better deals (including up to completely free) on things based purely on their looks.

Now, I have heard some vague notion that car salesmen will try to take advantage of a woman's typically weaker nature to try and gut her for more money, but NotAllWomen™ are weak-willed beings.

Hell, I guarantee you I'd be just as easily gutted for money buying a car as any average woman given my weak-willed and non-confrontational nature. I tend to just agree with whatever the other person is saying, because I'm socially inept like that.

29. If I’m not conventionally attractive, the disadvantages are relatively small and easy to ignore.

I would argue it's the exact same way for women, though referring back to the previous response, ironically they may be at a slightly bigger disadvantage in that men will be less likely to give better deals (or free things) to conventionally unattractive women, which isn't really a sexist issue it's just NotAllWomen™ having the same privileges as others (almost like everyone is different and not a collective...?).

30. I can be loud with no fear of being called a shrew. I can be aggressive with no fear of being called a bitch.

This is clearly opinion-based, and also implies that being "loud" and "aggressive" are good attributes for men to have when that's not always the case. Bit of a history lesson here but (https://www.etymonline.com/word/shrew) the word shrew originally referred to both men and women, though colloquially started referring primarily to women later on. However, now I'd argue the word is dead.

According to Google, by the 2000s, the word 'shrew' is only used about 0.00004% of the time. Except for English buffs and people in their late 60s-70s, I don't know anyone who uses the term 'shrew'.

As for the word 'bitch', well as I mentioned a while ago, that's colloquially a gendered term so you're right in saying that a man is unlikely to be called that, however 'dick', 'douchebag', 'wanker', and 'prick' I feel are male equivalents to the word 'bitch'.

31. I can ask for legal protection from violence that happens mostly to men without being seen as a selfish special interest, since that kind of violence is called “crime” and is a general social concern. (Violence that happens mostly to women is usually called “domestic violence” or “acquaintance rape,” and is seen as a special interest issue.)

This, much like a similar point previously, is carefully worded to appear as though it's a privilege for men and an issue for women when it's actually the opposite.

I mentioned this earlier regarding men and rape, however I'd like to broaden it to include all crime. There is a huge stigma around men asking for help, especially from the police, in regards to anything. 'You're a man, fix your problems yourself.' Whereas the same cannot be said at all about women. Women are expected to ask for help because they're typically seen as weaker and more likely in need of help than men. This means there is more or less always help available to women, unlike for men.

No one thinks women asking for help are being selfish. If anything, men asking for help are seen as selfish because they're taking help away from women who society believes needs it more. Now you could try and argue about the sexism behind society thinking women need more help than men, but you can't in all honestly argue that it's sexist AGAINST women when it actually benefits them in favor of men.

32. I can be confident that the ordinary language of day-to-day existence will always include my sex. “All men are created equal,” mailman, chairman, freshman, he.

This is such a non-issue that, as an English-buff, I frankly loathe to even respond to it. The English language dates CENTURIES back, and yeah originally the world was indeed deeply sexist with regards to just about everything (granted the concept of sexism wasn't really prevalent back then but that doesn't mean it didn't exactly exist).

If you wanna be the fruit loop who says 'mailwoman', 'chairwoman', 'freshwoman', etc. then be my guest; you're more than welcome to. Don't expect Oxford to adapt their dictionaries to your incessant need to have equality where it doesn't matter.

33. My ability to make important decisions and my capability in general will never be questioned depending on what time of the month it is.

I feel like it's been a while since there was actually a point I genuinely whole-heartedly agreed with, but here you go. You have a point here.

GRANTED (shit didn't I just say I agreed whole-heartedly?) unless you're a person in charge of others and by "questioned" you mean 'unfollowed' then this would easily fall under as a matter of opinion since it's irrelevant if people disagree with your judgments.

34. I will never be expected to change my name upon marriage or questioned if I don’t change my name.

Expected, no, you have a point there. Rarely is it expected of the guy to change his last name (unless you're gay and me and want to change your last name).

I have A (singular) male friend who did change his last name to his wife's last name when they married and many people questioned it, so I would argue that this is a social issue affecting both parties. Men are expected NOT to change their last name and are questioned if they do.

35. The decision to hire me will not be based on assumptions about whether or not I might choose to have a family sometime soon.

Well paternity leave does exist in some (if not all) workplaces so a man can leave work to take care of a kid, but honestly this sounds like a biological issue. Men CAN'T have kids so of course no one is going to question whether or not they'll need time off to give birth to a kid.

Also, since this is referring to the hiring of women, I can refer back all the way to the tippy top of this dissertation of a post where I pointed out how women are more hireable than men are, clearly regardless of their propensity to have children.

36. Every major religion in the world is led primarily by people of my own sex. Even God, in most major religions, is pictured as male.

Now much like my response to the complaint on the English language, I loathe to even attempt at responding to this, and given the vast complexity that is religion compared to the English language (which while complex is far easier to get into than religion), I will put minimal effort into this response.

Religion is very very old and times were very very different then but are very very different now and are very very much dependent on your own choices. You don't have to follow a religion if you don't want to (unless you're a child but honestly raising children with religion is a whooooooole other topic I'd rather not open up about here).

37. Most major religions argue that I should be the head of my household, while my wife and children should be subservient to me.

See above response.

38. If I have a wife or live-in girlfriend, chances are we’ll divide up household chores so that she does most of the labor, and in particular the most repetitive and unrewarding tasks.

If your wife and/or girlfriend decides she is comfortable doing more chores around the house than you, that is entirely on her. I don't even understand the conceivable issue here. This isn't talking about a general issue that affects every man or every woman, this is very specific to two people in a relationship.

If you're deciding amongst yourselves who does what chores, then divvy it up however you two are comfortable divvying it up. Like what kind of response do you want here? Laws forcing equal chores for men and women at home?

If the issue is the man is FORCING his girlfriend/wife to do more work than him, then that's a completely different conversation topic that should've been specified in the statement. That's a manipulative and abusive relationship, which can happen to both men and women and can be CAUSED by both men and women.

39. If I have children with my girlfriend or wife, I can expect her to do most of the basic childcare such as changing diapers and feeding.

Well unless you plan on growing a pair of titties then yeah you're probably right she's expected to do most of the feeding, assuming the child is breast-feeding. If the child isn't breast-feeding then it's up in the air who does what. I've never known a family that didn't share the responsibilities like that unless the mother was very insistent that she be the one to do everything.

I can't imagine a situation where a woman would be FORCED to take care of her child by her husband unless she is already in an abusive relationship to begin with. If the mother is doing all the work, it's likely because she wants to, or else there's something far more sinister going on besides some mere sexism.

40. If I have children with my wife or girlfriend, and it turns out that one of us needs to make career sacrifices to raise the kids, chances are we’ll both assume the career sacrificed should be hers.

I don't know whose chances are being considered here because I've never heard of that happening.

If the woman is making less money than the man then sure it should be assumed the woman will quit her job, but I don't honestly believe the man is just like 'Welp, you're the woman so...yeah, see you when I get home. Dinner better be ready.'

I don't know, it could happen, I suppose. Anything could really. I just have never seen nor heard anything remotely indicating that.

41. Assuming I am heterosexual, magazines, billboards, television, movies, pornography, and virtually all of media is filled with images of scantily-clad women intended to appeal to me sexually. Such images of men exist, but are rarer.

I'll agree to this though I don't think it's a rare as 99/1 but more like 55/45. There are plenty of scantily-clad men in magazines, porn, movies, billboards, TV, etc.

However, I'm surprised the argument wasn't made about completely nude men being rare in media because that I would have agreed with outright. For some reason the media has an issue showing male nudity in it's entirety. They will usually show suggestive shots without ever showing any actual nudity, but they don't have any issue at all showing female nudity.

I honestly can't say whether or not it's inherently sexist FOR or AGAINST women because it means society deems the female physique to be more appealing than the male physique, but it also means we sexualize women more than men, so who really knows.

42. In general, I am under much less pressure to be thin than my female counterparts are. If I am over-weight, I probably suffer fewer social and economic consequences for being fat than over-weight women do.

Thin, no, men aren't generally expected to be thin as frequently as women are. Buff, or fit on the other hand, yes. Men are generally expected to work out to some degree and have muscles and be strong so this is more or less a societal issue affecting both parties.

43. If I am heterosexual, it’s incredibly unlikely that I’ll ever be beaten up by a spouse or lover.

Ah, the domestic abuse appeal, I was waiting for this one. Women are actually more likely to be the instigators of domestic violence, however the issue of course is, on average men are stronger than women. So the damage done to a man by a woman, while still very much damage that should be considered completely unacceptable, is typically far less apparently damaging than the damage done to a woman by a man.

Not to mention, without even touching the woman, if the woman calls the police to report a domestic violence situation, the police are (typically) required to arrest SOMEONE and guess who that someone usually is 9 times out of 10?

Much like with rape, men being abused by women is vastly under reported. I don't doubt that men have likely injured more women in those situations, but I don't believe it's far from being 50/50. Just because you may be physically weaker doesn't mean you can't still do physical, mental, and/or emotional damage to someone physically stronger than you.

44. Complete strangers generally do not walk up to me on the street and tell me to “smile.”

This in itself is not inherently an issue. Strangers approaching anyone can be disturbing and even frightening, especially if they begin to follow you, and I don't doubt this happens more often to women, but to anyone it can be just as scary.

I work a lot of night shifts and don't drive, so I'm walking 30 minutes to and from work in the dark between 11PM-2AM and I have people approaching me, following me, talking to me, throwing things at me, etc. all the time. Now admittedly I've never been told to 'smile' before, but I have been told a multitude of other disturbing things that I'm not going to get into here so it can and does happen to some men too, but as I said I do believe it happens to women more often.

45. Sexual harassment on the street virtually never happens to me. I do not need to plot my movements through public space in order to avoid being sexually harassed, or to mitigate sexual harassment.

See #8 and #44.

46. On average, I am not interrupted by women as often as women are interrupted by men.

Oh how I detest the gross misuse and abuse of the English language to create words such as 'manterrupting' or 'mansplaining'. They're childish words, and while I know none were brought up in this statement it reminded me of them.

Honestly, I would judge the person who took the time to research that but here I am spending several hours writing this post to someone on the internet who'll likely disregard it entirely anyways so C'Est la Vie.

This is honestly a non-issue. If someone interrupts you, man or woman, tell them. If they continue, tell them. If they still persist, stop talking to them or learn to deal with the minute aggravations of the idiots that roam society. It's really not that difficult. It's like the issue about the chores; what would you have us do? Enact laws to illegalize interruption?

47. On average, I will have the privilege of not knowing about my male privilege.

Oh-ho-ho! I see what you did there! Wrapping it all up in a neat little bow, classy.

Except considering throughout this post I've rebutted a majority of these so-called "privileges" and even pointed out one or two ones that women have and I guess I can add another one to the list and that's 'the privilege of not knowing about your female privilege'.

See what I did there?

Bonus Round: And lastly, I am taken as a more credible feminist than my female peers, despite the fact that the feminist movement is not liberating to my sex.

Inaccurate BY FAR. Most outspoken female feminists do not even agree than men CAN EVEN BE feminists, let alone be allowed to speak on behalf of feminism. They subscribe heavily to the 'listen and believe' mantra, meaning men should just shut up and listen to what women have to say and believe them whole-heartedly about everything. Now, NotAllWomen™, of course, and even NotAllFeminists™, MAYBE (though I don't really believe this) not even a majority of feminists think this way, but at the very least the outspoken ones do.

#random rant #long post #male privilege #female privilege #feminism #feminists #anti-feminism

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isayeed-blog · 5 years

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Homo Non Sapiens and the Rational

The desacralization of the world and the rise of the rational individual more or less went hand in hand in western civilisation. "More than the 'human dignity' exalted by the humanists, it is the individual liberty to reject every authority outside of God that has made possible – by a slow process of desacralization – the 'modern world' such as it emerges in the period of the Enlightenment, and defines itself with the French Revolution and the triumph of science and technology [Mircea Eliade, A History of Religious Ideas, Volume three, p. 248 ]."

The rational individual openly appears as homo economicus in the pages of Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations. The wealth of a nation depends on the division of labour made possible by the consensual exchange of products in a market untrammeled by government or monopoly. "He [Adam Smith] seems to have taken care to note that his remarks do not apply to all, but only to the generality of men. He continually recalls the fact that he is speaking of men of common understanding, or of those gifted with common prudence. He knew well enough that the principles of common prudence do not always govern the conduct of every individual, but he was of opinion that they always influenced that of the majority of every class and order. His reasoning is applicable to men en masse, and not to individuals in particular. Moreover, he does not deny that man may be unacquainted with or may even entirely ignore his own interest....These reservations notwithstanding, and full account being taken of all the exceptions to the principals as laid down by Smith, it is still true to say that as a general thesis he considers 'the natural effort of every individual to better his own condition' – that is, personal interest – as the fundamental psychological motive in political economy (italics original) [Charles Gide and Charles Rist, A History of Economic Doctrines, trans. B.A.Richards, London: George G. Harrap and Co. Ltd., 1959, p. 103 ]" That is to say, the rational producer-consumer would try to better his lot, and in doing so, unwittingly, better the lot of the community he finds himself in. This was the product of the Scottish Enlightenment, and it has come to stay.

Indeed, the rational economical agent has pervaded every sphere of human activity – he or she is also the rational voter, the rational ruler, the rational citizen....Rationality is everywhere evident, except, as observed by Anthony Pagden and others, in the nonwestern world. These lesser people must either be ignored (which is not possible in today's cheek-by-jowl world) or elevated to the first rank, or as near to it as their feeble intellects will allow. The great neo-conservative experiment in disseminating the seeds of democracy far and wide, with violence if necessary since we don't know our own good yet and are apt to resist the 'moderniser’, is part of this grand project.

It is remarkable that Adam Smith felt that the well-spring of human activity is to better oneself. A casual reading of Hesiod's Works and Days would have disabused him of this notion."...a man grows eager to work when he considers his neighbour, a rich man who hastens to plough and plant and put his house in good order; and neighbour vies with his neighbour as he hurries after wealth. This Strife is wholesome for men. And potter is angry with potter, and craftsman with craftsman, and beggar is jealous of beggar, and minstrel of minstrel [Hesiod, Works and Days, 11-24, Project Gutenberg's Etext of Hesiod, Homeric Hymns, and Homerica, Etext #348]" For Hesiod, the psychological inducement to work is not the urge to improve one's lot, but to make one's lot better than that of one's neighbours'. More on this soon.

To posit a rational motivation for human endeavour is to misread humans altogether: the irrational aspect of man's character has been the subject of study in western civilisation since at least the time when Plato divided the soul into its three divisions, only one of which is rational. In our age, Sigmund Freud made irrationality the hallmark of humanity, again dividing the psyche into three warring parts.

Freud wrote the following words in a letter to Dr. Chaim Koffler in 1930:

Dear Sir: I cannot do as you wish [i.e., become a Zionist] ... Whoever wants to influence the masses must give them something rousing and inflammatory and my sober judgment of Zionism does not permit this. I certainly sympathize with its goals, am proud of our University in Jerusalem and am delighted with our settlement’s prosperity. But, on the other hand, I do not think that Palestine could ever become a Jewish state, nor that the Christian and Islamic worlds would ever be prepared to have their holy places under Jewish care. It would have seemed more sensible to me to establish a Jewish homeland on a less historically-burdened land. But I know that such a rational viewpoint would never have gained the enthusiasm of the masses and the financial support of the wealthy. I concede with sorrow that the baseless fanaticism of our people is in part to be blamed for the awakening of Arab distrust. I can raise no sympathy at all for the misdirected piety which transforms a piece of a Herodian wall [i.e., the Wailing Wall] into a national relic, thereby offending the feelings of the natives. Now judge for yourself whether I, with such a critical point of view, am the right person to come forward as the solace of a people deluded by unjustified hope. Your obedient servant, Freud

[http://www.thehypertexts.com/Nakba%20Holocaust%20Palestinians%20Sigmund%20Freud%20on%20Zionism.htm]

Zionists, indeed, were offered a slice of Africa, but they refused [https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/the-uganda-proposal-1903]. Freud was well aware that a rational project would never have got off the ground – the appeal had to be made to the irrational side of the people.

In philosophy, even David Hume pointed out that we cannot live as rational beings – it is impossible: "...all our reasonings concerning causes and effects, are derived from nothing but custom; and that belief is more properly an act of the sensitive, than of the cogitative part of our natures [ The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Treatise of Human Nature, by David Hume, Part IV, Section 1, Etext #4705 ]". In the previous paragraph Hume says that total scepticism is incompatible with nature: we have to believe, willy-nilly. "Nature, by an absolute and uncontroulable necessity has determined us to judge as well as to breathe and feel...." If we are to survive at all – breathe and feel – we have to form judgments and beliefs, even when reason tells us that we can never have enough evidence for our judgment or belief.

David Hume was a contemporary and friend of Adam Smith, to whom we now return. It is a pity that the latter did not share the skeptical predilections of the former, for then we might not have had the caricature known today as homo economicus. It is remarkable that progress in psychology and psychiatry has had absolutely no effect on the belief in the Rational Individual – and this is nowhere more evident than in the discipline of economics.

In 2002, a remarkable event occurred: The Nobel Prize for economics went to Daniel Kahneman for his attempts to debunk neo-classical economic theory (never mind that he had to share it with someone who believed that people can be trained to be rational in controlled circumstances). Mr. Kahneman is not even an economist – unsurprisingly, he is a psychologist. His insights (achieved with the late Amos Tversky) have been labeled 'behavioural economics'. Psychological studies have shown that people value the comfort of the herd (yes, even rational Anglo-Saxons); and that they are far more frightened of losses than inspired by potential gains. This explains why millions of seemingly rational people – egged on by analysts and the media – jumped headlong into the 'irrational exuberance' (the title of a bestselling book) of the dot-com mania. These people were willing to pay more for shares than rationality would dictate – and then get out suddenly in a fit of collective panic.

Studies have revealed that people would rather be better off relative to other people than to their own present situation. So, if you work harder and increase your income, you will not be happier if the Jones's income goes up by the same proportion. Only by making sure that the Jones's are worse off than you can you ensure your well-being. This was the insight of Hesiod, and where Adam Smith went completely wrong.

(Which would you rather have: an income of $100,000 while others earned $150,000; or an income of $50,000 while others earned $25,000? Contrary to economic theory, most Harvard students who were asked the question chose the second option.

Malice, as a human motive, long known to the average person, was articulated by Arthur Schopenhauer. The post-Enlightenment thinkers understood humans better than the rationalists.)

To state the obvious, people are irrational. That is what it means to be human. Writers and artists have known this for millennia, but thinkers tend to lose sight of a simple fact. Anthony Pagden claims that the west has progressively given up its irrational baggage, and the rest of us have not. It will come as a shock to Mr. Pagden to be told that nobody can give up their irrational bequest. To do so would be to cease to be human - to cease to breathe and feel.

But the claim itself is telling – for no other civilisation bar Mr. Pagden's claims to have an edge over other civilizations in this, or any other, department. Is it rational to feel superior to other people? Doesn't that deny our essential humanity? Of course, it follows logically that if you pride yourself on your rationality, you will look for somebody to boast about it to – somebody to look down upon. So long as western civilisation continues to believe that somewhere, always there's someone who is less than human, so long will western civilisation continue to perpetrate the atrocities for which it has become dreaded.

#irrational #homo economicus #Adam Smith #david hume #behavioural economics #hesiod #enlightenment #freud #zionism

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365news · 5 years

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ACCUSER OF THE BRETHEREN by Femi Fani-Kayode

ACCUSER OF THE BRETHEREN Permit me to begin by saying that my heart goes out to Mr. Timi Dakolo, a very pleasant and respectful young man who I first met at President Goodluck Jonathan's house two years ago. We interacted again two weeks ago when we spoke briefly on the phone after the news about the horrendous travails that his beautiful wife Busola was allegedly subjected to by Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo of the Commonwealth of Zion Assembly (COZA) 19 years earlier first broke. I commend his enormous courage and for standing by his wife at this difficult time. Last week Pastor Enoch Adeboye of the Redeemed Christian Church of God (RCCG) said the following. "Once a woman accuses you of something, no matter how irrational it is, nobody will listen to you". Pastor Adeboye may well be right but the question is whether this is a satisfactory state of affairs and whether it is just, fair and proper? Should this be the case in any civilised society? Should it be the case in the Church? Does this "lynch-mob mentality" not demean and destroy the very fabric of our society and the very foundation of our existence? Does it not undermine the utility, credibility and power of the Church? Should we not outrightly condemn it and seek to change it rather than espouse and accept it as a given? Must a man, or indeed a Pastor, live in perpetual fear of the damning and implicative words of an 'accuser of the bretheren' and grave allegations that may well have no basis in rationality or truth? Does veracity no longer have a place in the land of the living or in the Church? Is the essence and central message of our Christian faith not to show love and to be just and fair to all? Are we, as Christians, not meant to love even the unlovable? Are we not meant to NEVER judge a matter or condemn a man or a woman without first perusing, exploring, establishing and ascertaining all the relevant facts? As the late Archbishop Benson Idahosa once said, "Why is the Body of Christ the only army that shoots it's wounded? Our job is to restore and heal one another". I go a step further by asking, why are believers always so ready to assume the worst about other believers and crucify them at the drop of a hat? Why are we always so eager to join hands with unbelievers to defame and destroy our own? Sometime last year a strange woman falsely accused Apostle Johnson Suleiman of Omega Fire Ministries of illicit and sallacious sexual liasons ahd encounters and many Nigerians assumed that she spoke the truth until the man of God fought back and proved that she was a fraud. The Jezebel that accused him was eventually put to shame. She even came back to the Church a few months later with her mother and confessed that she had lied on the man of God and that she had been paid to set him up and implicate him. Just two weeks ago in the wake of the Dakolo/Fatoyinbo storm, another strange woman suddenly crawled out of the sewer and falsely accused Prophet T.B. Joshua of SCOAN of raping her as a child and abducting and kidnapping her for 14 years. Thankfully in a matter of days SCOAN rose to the occassion, killed the lie, exposed the liar and proved that she was a mentally unstable and worthless creature from the pit of hell. If the Lord had not been with these two men their respective ministries, reputations and Churches would have been utterly decimated. The moral of the tale is as follows: never be too quick to judge simply because the accuser is a woman. She could be a legitimate victim of wrongdoing and an angel that has spoken nothing but the truth but on the other hand she could be a lying demon in human flesh and a daughter of the devil that is out to destroy: only God knows the truth. I do not under any circumstances support or condone rape and I think that it is a beastly, barbaric, cruel and savage act. Every victim of rape deserves nothing but love, sympathy, support and encouragement and every rapist ought to be brought to justice. There is nothing worse than a Pastor that rapes because he is in a position of immense trust and he has abused the power and influence that he has been given over others. However before we pass judgement and hang the "offender" we must establish the truth and the facts. As far as I am concerned this has not been done in the case of Dakolo and Fatoyinbo and it may only ever be done if and when the matter goes to court. Sadly with all that has been said in the media about Fatoyinbo over the last three weeks by some notable leaders and elders of the Body of Christ I am convinced that many in the Nigerian Church would have joined the leaders of Ancient Egypt to condemn and jail the biblical Joseph after he was falsely accused of raping Potipher's wife. . Must our reactions to grave, complex, sallacious and unproven allegations always be emotional? Is there not a presumption of innocence under every decent and civilised moral code and indeed under our constitution? Are we not all entitled to a fair hearing before being condemned in the court of public opinion? Must we always believe the worst about our own even when there is no tangible evidence to prove the allegation other than the uncorroborated evidence of the so-called victim? I was particularly disturbed by two interventions that were made by two great writers who I have immense respect for. Both of them fired hard shots and delivered powerful body blows to both Biodun and the Body of Christ last week. The first salvo came from Dr. Reuben Abati, the former Chairman of the Editorial Board of the Guardian Newspaper and the former spokesman to President Goodluck Jonathan. In his tuesday column in Thisday newspaper he went as far as to assert that there was no such thing as "the annointing" anymore and openly denigrated the Pentecostal Church and Pentecostal Pastors. All that simply because of the unproven and uncorroborated allegations made by Dakolo against Fatoyinbo. The second salvo came from Mr. Yemi Adebowale, the editor of Saturday Thisday Newspaper who, in his column, said that members of COZA Church must be under some sort of spell for defending and standing by their Pastor. I am a great admirer of both Abati and Adebowale and most of the time I agree with them on all that they write. However on this matter I do not share their views. I am a proud member of the Evangelical movement and the Pentecostal Church and I do not think it is right and proper to attempt to undermine the credibility of either simply because of an unproven allegation that has been made by Dakolo. Even if proven, the criminal actions of a single rogue Pastor surely cannot be enough to legitimately indict or raise questions about the credibility, efficacy, legitimacy and power of the entire Pentecostal Church and Evangelical movement. It is Fatoyinbo that is, so to speak, on trial here and not the Pentecostal Church. Secondly the assertion that there is no such thing as the annointing in the Pentecostal Church anymore is not only offensive but it is also simply not true. Not only is the annointing alive and well in the Church of Christ but it also still doing wonders, still breaking yokes, still setting the captives free and still bringing joy, peace, blessings, hope, strength, victories and deliverance to millions. Again the assertion that COZA members are under a spell is insulting. I worship at COZA from time to time, my dear wife Precious is a full-time member and my son Aragorn was dedicated to the Lord in that Church three years ago. None of us are under any spell. And neither would it be right and proper for us to turn our backs on Fatoyinbo without any solid proof of his wrongdoing other than the blanket allegations of his many accusers. I have been the victim of unsubstantiated, vicious, scurrilious, pernicious and sallacious allegations on numerous occassions over the last 30 years and I know what it is like to be falsely accused. If my loved ones had turned their backs on me and not given me the benefit of the doubt on each of those occassions I would have been lost. The point is that there must be a certain degree of loyalty displayed by members of the congregation to their Church and Pastors. If that were not the case the easiest thing in the world to do would be to destroy Churches and scatter the sheep simply by making baseless allegations against the Pastor and the shepherd. It is Fatoyinbo today but it could be ANYONE else tomorrow. No-one is too big to be accused and no-one is too big to fall. We must be ready to stand by our own unless and until hard evidence of wrongdoing is provided. If and when the Pastor's guilt is proved, admitted or established then it becomes a different matter entirely but up until then it is only right and proper for members of his family, congregation and Church to stand by him, show him love and continue to pray for him. Even when we suspect that a man of God has erred we must always remember that our Lord Jesus Christ saved Peter from drowning in the Sea of Galilee BEFORE publicly rebuking him. We must save him from drowning first and then we are free to rebuke him publicly. A real father does not first publicly rebuke and then save his son: he must first save his son and then publicly rebuke him. Sensible and timely was the intervention made by CAN. In a statement signed by the Acting General Secretary of CAN Joseph Bade Daramola, on 7th July 2019, they said, inter alia, that they frowned on the media attacks on the Body of Christ by columnists and commentators alike that have come as a consequence of this whole saga, that they would not impute guilt on any party until they have heard all the facts and seen the evidence, that they would intervene in the matter in an attempt to settle it amicably and that up until then all parties to the conflict should sheath their swords and stop indulging in a media war. CAN has put the devil to shame. They have also displayed immense wisdom, decency and restraint. They have refused to convict a man based on allegations that are yet to be proved and facts that are yet to be established or corroborated and they have treated this grave matter with the seriousness and gravitas that it deserves. They have refused to be flippant, petty, partial and judgemental and they have not allowed themselves to be moved by emotion or driven by the lynch-mob mentality that appears to have afflicted most of those that have made public contributions on this matter. Kudos to them! That, and not the public crucifixtion of Fatoyinbo or the wholesale denigration of the Pentescostal Church and Evangelical movement is surely the way forward. To the millions of women that have stood by Mrs. Busola Dakolo and expressed outrage about what she claims to have been subjected to, including the First Lady Mrs. Aisha Buhari and other prominent figures, I say that I appreciate your concern and pain. No-one will hear such a horrendous story and not be torn apart, including yours truly. However I also implore them to pause and think. Would they be so quick to assume guilt if it had been their father, husband, son or Pastor that was accused of such a terrible thing? Would they not demand to see proof? Would they not at least wait for that proof to be adduced or provided before condemning the accused? Apart from that I would urge then to channel the same amount of energy as they are putting into this matter to the case of Miss Leah Sharibu who was abducted by Boko Haram over one and a half years ago and who, as Reno Omokri rightly said "is being raped every day". They can also consider the case of Justice Esther Asabe Karatu, the former Acting Chief Judge of Kebbi state who the Governor of Kebbi refused to confirm as Chief Judge simply because she is a Christian and who was physically barred, humiliated and prevented from entering her own court to deliver a judgement just a few days ago. They can also take up the terrible case of a young 9 year old girl that was raped by her Imam in a mosque a few weeks ago and for which plenty of evidence and corroboration was adduced. They can also look into the case of Senator Elisha Ishaku Abbo's step-mother who was abducted from her home on the 13th of July even as she was nursing her 11-day old baby! Finally they should consider the case of Mrs. Funke Fasoranti-Olakunrin, the 58 year old daughter of the leader of Afenifere, Pa Reuben Fasoranti and a mother and a grandmother in her own right, who was murdered in cold blood by Fulani herdsmen in the streets of Ore, Ondo state on 12th July 2019. These helpless female victims of dark and evil men are also worthy of the mass celebrity support, media attention, solidarity marches, protests and demonstrations that are being organised on behalf of Dakolo. In a these five cases the evidence of evil and wrongdoing abounds and proof of the sheer horror and wickedness that the victims have been subjected to is there for all to see. In Mrs. Dakolo's case, other than her own verbal account of events, we are yet to see such evidence. May God guide us. Read the full article

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scrawnydutchman · 7 years

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Zootopia and it’s Horrible Resolution

*Note: this article contains major Zootopia Spoilers.

Disney is popular. Probably the most obvious opening statement you can make besides the sky is blue. But acknowledging the obvious is important to establish in order to build this case. Disney is not only one of the largest marketing giants in the entertainment industry among the masses if not THE largest, but they are also always incredibly popular among critics and the academy. Not without good reason either; while not every movie they put out is quite the titan of achievement and quality entertainment the critics make them out to be (in my opinion at least) they still have very beautiful, incredibly performed, just overall very charming flicks for the whole family. Zootopia is a great example of a Disney film that still receives ceaseless praise to this day; receiving near 100 percent scores on Rotten Tomatoes upon release and going on to win the academy award for best animated feature in 2016. It’s also received more then it’s fair share of cringey fan art, but to be fair it’s premise practically lends itself to this kind of stuff.

*in all fairness this is beautifully drawn and coloured even if the idea itself is unsettling*

For the record I quite like this movie too: it’s got beautiful and diverse scenery, a compelling premise with an enticing plot, great leads that play off each other seamlessly and it all comes together to make a genuinely charming and cool romp that’s really got an adult edge in comparison to other Disney films (I can’t imagine most kids getting the “tax-evasion” humor of this film).

But there is one thing about this movie that makes me feel ultimately very bitter sweet about the whole experience. A factor that is frankly so bad and baffling to me that it honestly turned me off to the whole thing as soon as I saw it. The resolution. More specifically, the way in which officer Judy Hopps finds out what’s really going on after discovering where all the savage predators were being kept and makes a presumptuous as hell conclusion about it.

Let’s back up a bit: The first 2 3rds of this movie is a buddy cop crime thriller for children. Something is causing a series of predator citizens to suddenly disappear and it’s up to officer Judy Hopps to figure it out by following the necessary clues alongside sly con-artist Nick Wilde. Every clue leads them to a new environment, every environment leads to a wacky new character, every wacky character has some new but vague information as to where all of these predators are going and it’s up to Nick and Judy to use their detective skills to figure it all out. So this film is establishing very early on that paying attention to clues right in front of you is very important, as it should if it wants to be a compelling mystery story. A good mystery spoonfeeds both the leads and the audience just enough information to let them know ahead of time who is responsible and the fun for the audience is guessing right along side the lead and seeing if they get it right. Which is why the absolute worst thing you can do is pull unknowable information out of your ass at the last minute and use that as your resolution. Remember this.

Eventually Judy and Nick find the other predators, arrest mayor Lionheart without heeding his warnings, and then when making an official statement about the case Judy single handedly ruins the reputation of every Pred in town by stating a mere theory she has as irrefutable fact, despite the fact that she can’t actually prove a biological component is causing the Preds to go savage. Granted, that’s a very viable theory that doesn’t deserve to be brushed off, but you can’t just jump to a conclusion like that without asking further questions. Why are predators turning savage now of all times? Why all at once instead of incidents spread further apart chronologically? If it’s a biological component it’s a pretty convenient as hell biological component to just be coming up this often by shear coincidence. Judy is a cop. She should know this better then anyone. And I know what you’re thinking: It’s a kids movie. Don’t you think you’re reading into it way too much and asking questions children would never ask? Except as previously stated the first 2/3rds of the film are all about gathering case notes, putting together evidence, thinking outside the box, using what you know as a means to come to a more solid conclusion and not assuming ANYTHING. If a movie for any demographic is going to have a set up like this then the payoff better be consistent.

But nope. Everybody accepts that baseless allegation as fact. Society begins to demonize innocent preds, the fat cheetah guy loses his job, Nick walks out on Judy in frustration and Judy quits the force because she feels bad about creating a situation she should have had the professionalism to avoid. Just a quick note: I know another major point of this movie is to make a statement about social justice and prejudice, but they did not have to go this route in order to maintain this aspect. You’ll see how when I get there.

So Judy goes back to the farm and mopes and dopes and has completely given up. She has no more ambition; no more drive to be the cop she wanted to be or to prove herself in the force. Miss Bellweather would have gotten everything she ever wanted with no hassle . . . if not for Judy’s childhood bully popping up randomly and nonchalantly giving Judy the final piece of the puzzle; Night-Howlers. An organic narcotic that causes it’s consumer to “go savage”, thus the Preds were being drugged the whole time.

Sigh . . . this is my major problem with the movie. This is the moment that makes the whole thing fall apart for me, the thing that made me exclaim “OH COME ON!” as I was watching it.

1. Judy grew up on her parents farm and in the same area as her bully. How in the holy hell has she NEVER heard of Night-Howlers before??? She made a baseless allegation not once considering that they might have been drugged by a COMMONLY KNOWN NARCOTIC INFAMOUS FOR CAUSING ANIMALS TO GET VIOLENT??

2. This whole movie is about Judy’s journey to fulfill her dream of being a cop and proving to a doubting society that bunnies can be a force of protection too. She demonstrates her competence the whole way through the movie and works hard to get in the position she’s in, gives up . . and then is rewarded for giving up. Anybody else see the issue here? She apparently would have never figured this out without stooping to her lowest point. She didn’t suddenly find the will to fix everything; she didn’t pick herself up or get inspired to figure something out by her parents or her bully. The magical answer to all of her problems just landed on her lap with no prompt or sacrifice on her part. A deus ex machina is pretty well always a bad thing in a movie but it is ESPECIALLY bad for a film where the whole point is demonstrating the characters agency and their own capacity to make their situation work.

3, and most importantly, this defeats the ENTIRE PURPOSE OF A MYSTERY STORY. Like I said, a mystery is supposed to have it’s resolution be possible to anticipate to the audience early on, because a huge part of the satisfaction is for the audience to be correct in who they think is the culprit. But this resolution was impossible to foresee. Nothing about the movie prior to this scene suggested it might be something from Judy’s past. The information laid out to you could never have given you enough for your prediction to be right. Some may argue that it’s good to challenge audiences expectations with a twist they may not have considered, which I can agree on, but if you’re going to do a twist in a mystery story you should do it in a way where the audience can look back on all the information they gathered up to that point and think “Oh, that’s how it connects”. But this resolution doesn’t do that.

I hate this resolution. It practically ruined the whole movie for me and it fails on so many levels. It rewards a character for giving up when their victory is supposed to be built on their hard work, it’s a deus ex machina that just resolves everything magically and with no effort put in by any of the characters and it defeats the purpose of a mystery entirely.

But that just leaves one question: How can you make it better? I’ve got the answer.

Have Judy state in the conference that she cannot confirm nor deny any given theories as to why the predators might be getting violent at this time, but she DOES share the theory that it could be a biological component not knowing the ramifications of saying so. The media takes her completely out of context, Nick gets upset with her and leaves. Judy feels an intense obligation to fix her mistake but the police department has closed the case as they cannot find any trace of evidence disproving Judy’s theory. Judy gets fed up with the force and resigns, but still tries to figure out for herself what’s going on. She goes on for days trying to find any lead she can but comes up empty handed. Depressed, she decides to visit Mr and Mrs. Otterton, as the Mr. is still savage and the Mrs. is still grieving. On her way out, Judy notices that Mr. Otterton has a small blue stain on his clothes. Curious, she decides to do some research on possible blue narcotics that may cause an animal to have violent tendencies and finds out about Night-Howlers. She pieces it all together, goes to Nick to have that emotional scene under the bridge and the movie goes on like it already does after that (because the rest of it is fine).

This turn of events would have resolved all of the issues I had with this scene. Judy would have still maintained her ambition, the discovery of the real cause would have been based on her own inquisitiveness and at no point does it compromise the social justice message. Mystery movie is maintained as a mystery.

Now, as upsetting as this resolution is to me I can’t stress enough that there’s a lot about this movie that I like. The animation, voice acting, plot progression (up till that scene),comedy, drama, setting design, character design, it’s all masterful and a natural choice for the best animated feature award. But this just goes to show how much a single scene can impact how you view a film.

#zootopia #disney #animation #film #review #film review #editorial #critique #judy hopps #nick wilde

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