#feel free to correct me if i’m wrong i love civil debate about my favorite characters

[eyesteeth]

i have some thoughts about qwerty’s age. this is not an attempt to solidly state what his age is, but thoughts on how it works narratively. spoilers ahoy. apologies for any potential inconsistencies - it’s been a bit since i fully reread the series.

in the snicketverse, characters are usually placed into one of two categories age-wise - child and adult. either

you’re around the age of the protagonist(s) and are easily overlooked but perceptive and intelligent

you’re an adult and are in a position of power but are largely unhelpful if not outward malicious.

(granted, there are exceptions to this, stew is a horrible child and kit as of asoue is an adult doing her best, but that’s beside the point, and i’m only including it so people don’t yell at me for it.)

within these categories, characters are usually around the ages of “17 or younger” or “older than 35”. very few canon ages are given, but the schism is about as old as lemony is, which informs a lot of the vague areas of other characters’ ages. you almost never see anyone who’s a young adult, only people who were children when the schism happened, or their children.

except, of course, for qwerty.

when qwerty is introduced, he is described as being “younger than [one thinks] of a librarian as being, younger than the father of anyone [lemony] knew”. this places him between the two categories of age, as this line suggests that he’s in his mid-to-late 20s. and for a series so focused on age and associated behaviors, this is fascinating.

as is revealed in the second half of atwq, qwerty is indeed an adult in a position of power - he’s a member of vfd. and not only is he a part of vfd, he’s a supervisor - someone who looks after chaperones and makes sure they’re successfully doing their job. he is higher ranked than s theodora, and two or more ranks above lemony as a result.

there is generally, in the snicketverse, a reoccurring theme of useless or incompetent adults, especially those in a position of power. qwerty, despite his rank, ultimately does not accomplish much. he shows up, imparts knowledge, and those around him continue moving in the same direction they have previously, with little exception. he is, in a way, useless.

except, qwerty is only a “useless adult” because lemony doesn’t listen to him.

qwerty, like several of the child characters, knows more than he lets on, and is overlooked despite this. he all but explicitly tells lemony what to do next and is consistently ignored, almost as if lemony already expects him to be incompetent. when s theodora asks him for a good evaluation, he, aware of her incompetence despite barely interacting with her, flat out refuses.

he is between adult and child, and narratively has the traits of both, perception and intelligence and a place of power, but is ignored and ultimately does not help much. he dies doing so much and getting nothing in return.

dashiell qwerty deserved better.

[thisislizheather]

The Witches Are Coming by Lindy West - A Review

I’ve been waiting for this book of essays to come out for months and it was so, so worth the the wait. I know it’s asking a lot, but can this woman please just write a book every year? Or every six months? That’d be great, thanks. Favourite parts ahead!

“This moment in history is about more than individual interactions between individual people. Those matter, too - it matters how you made your subordinate feel with that comment, and it matters quite a lot that the woman on the bus went home and sobbed after you groped her - but, as Rebecca Traister wrote in December 2017 on The Cut: “This moment isn’t just about sex. It’s about work.” It’s about who feels at home in the workplace and who feels like an outsider - which, by extension, dictates who gets to thrive and ascend, who gets to hire their replacements, who gets to set their children up for success, who gets credit and glory, and who gets forgotten. It’s about who feels safe in public spaces and who doesn’t. Which is to say, it’s about everything.”

“We gobble up cable news’ insistence that both sides of an argument are equally valid and South Park’s insistence that both sides are equally stupid, because taking a firm stance on anything opens us up to criticism.”

“We kept letting Adam Sandler make more movies after Little Nicky, because white men are allowed to fail spectacularly and keep their jobs.”

There’s literally an entire chapter on Adam Sandler movies that is perfection. You have to read it. Seriously, just pick this up at a bookstore and read that one chapter, if nothing else.

I loved all of her points about how there was endless discussion about The Ted Bundy Tapes when it came out earlier this year and how we debated whether this murdering monster was handsome or not. And how that same type of debate is somehow in the same arena as when people debate whether Elizabeth Warren is “likable” or not.

There’s a part in the Ted Bundy special where the judge sympathizes with Bundy and goes on a ridiculous tangent about how it’s “such a shame” that he turned out that way when he had so much potential, it’s truly disgusting to see a judge commiserate with a rapist and murderer, but it happened and it’s wild to see. “That anecdote is often held up as evidence of Bundy’s charisma - even the judge sentencing him to death was seduced by that smirk, that finger wave. But it is the most blatant, overwhelming evidence we have for the opposite. Men don’t need charisma to succeed. It doesn’t matter if men are likable, because men are people who do things, who don’t have to ask first, whose potential has value even after it is squandered.”

“Chasing likability has been one of women’s biggest setbacks, by design. I don’t know that rejecting likability will get us anywhere, but I know that embracing it has gotten us nowhere.”

Absolutely in love with the fact that she loves the movie Clue as much as I do.

I really liked the chapter that she discussed Gwyneth Paltrow’s GOOP, even if I did wish that she went in on her/the brand harder.

So in love with the chapter where she talks about South Park and its creators. I’ve always hated that show, it’s never been good, and I can’t understand who the hell would be into it. It’s never been funny, edgy, smart. Insane that it’s still on.

Maybe I’m really reading into it, but there’s a tiny part where she mentions that PETA sucks and I can’t stop all my little inside screams - it’s hard to find somewhere who dislikes all the same stuff as you.

“Men think that misogyny is a women’s issue; women’s to endure and women’s to fix. White people think that racism is a pet issue for people of color; not like the pure, economic grievances of the white working class. Rape is a rape victim’s problem: What was she wearing? Where was she walking? Had she had sex before?“

“Whenever talk turned toward solutions, the panel came back to mentorship: women lifting up other women. Assertiveness and leaning in and ironclad portfolios and marching into that interview and taking the space you deserve and changing the ratio and not letting Steve from accounting talk over you in the morning. During the closing question-and-answer period, a young woman stood up. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice electric with anger, “but all I’ve heard tonight are a bunch of things women can do to fight sexism. Why is that our job? We didn’t build the system. This audience should be full of men.”

“Sexism is a male invention. White supremacy is a white invention. Transphobia is a cisgender invention. So far, men have treated #MeToo like a bumbling dad in a detergent commercial: well intentioned by floundering, as though they are not the experts. You are the experts. Only 2.6 percent of construction workers are female. We did not install that glass ceiling, and it is not our responsibility to demolish it.”

When talking about what men can actually do to help women: ”“Do you ever stick up for me?” sounds childish, but I don’t know that gussying up the sentiment in more sophisticated language would enhance its meaning. It isn’t fun to be the one who speaks up. Our society has engineered robust consequences for squeaky wheels, a verdant pantheon from eye rolls all the way up to physical violence. One of the subtlest and most pervasive is social ostracism: coding empathy as the fun killer, consideration for others as an embarrassing weakness, and dissenting voices as out-of-touch, bleeding-heart dweebs (at best). Coolness is a fierce disciplinarian. A result is that, for the most part, the only people weathering those consequences are the ones who don’t have the luxury of staying quiet. Women, already impeded and imperiled by sexism, also have to carry the social stigma of being feminist buzzkills if they call attention to it. People of color not only have to deal with racism; they also have to deal with white people labeling them “angry” or “hostile” or “difficult” for objecting. What we could use is some loud, unequivocal backup.”

“I know there’s pressure not to be a dorky, try-hard male feminist stereotype; there’s always a looming implication that you could lose your spot in the boys’ club; if you seem too opportunistic or performative in your support, if you suck up too much oxygen and demand praise, women will yell at you for that, too. But I need you to absorb that risk. I need you to get yelled at and made fun of, a lot, and if you get kicked out of the club, I need you to be relieved, and I need you to help build a new one.”

The entire chapter about the complications with Joan Rivers is such a great one.

“You can hate someone and love them at the same time. Maybe that’s a natural side effect of searching for heroes in a world not built for you.”

Okay, so the only thing that we strongly disagree on is her previous love for Adam Carolla. Always hated that man.

““Common sense’” without growth, curiosity, or perspective eventually becomes conservatism and bitterness.”

“There are pieces of pop culture that you outgrow because you get older. Then there are pieces of pop culture that you outgrow because you get better.”

“Art has no obligation to evolve, but it has a powerful incentive to do so. Art that is static, that captures a dead moment, is nothing. It is, at best, nostalgia; at worst, it can be a blight on our sense of who we are, a shame we pack away. Artists who refuse to listen, participate, and change along with the world around them are not being silenced or punished by censorious college sophomores. They are letting obsolescence devour them, voluntarily. Political correctness is just the inexorable turn of the gear. Falling behind is preventable.”

Talking about Ricky Gervais:” “People see something they don’t like, and they expect it to stop,” he said. “The world is getting worse. Don’t get me wrong, I think I lived through the best fifty years of humanity, 1960 through 2015, the peak of civilization for everything. For tolerances, for freedoms, for communication, for medicine! And now it’s going the other way a little bit.” “Dumpster fire” has emerged as the favorite emblem of our present sociopolitical moment, but that Gervais quote feels more apt and more tragic as a metaphor: the Trump/Brexit era is a rich, famous, white, middle-aged man declaring the world to be in decline the moment he stops understanding it.”

“Adam Carolla isn’t angry because he’s being silenced; he’s angry because he’s being challenged. He’s been shown the road map to continued relevance, and it doesn’t lead back to his mansion. He’s angry because he’s being asked to do the basic work of maintaining a shared humanity or else be left behind. He’s choosing the past. Gervais and Carolla are not alone in presenting themselves as noble bulwarks against a wave of supposed leftwing censorship. (A Netflix special, for the record, is not what “silencing” looks like.)”

Talking Louis CK: “Less than a year after his vow to retreat and listen, CK made the laziest and most cowardly choice possible: to turn away from the difficult, necessary work of self-reflection, growth, and reparation, and run into the comforting arms of people who don’t think it’s that big a deal to show your penis to female subordinates. Conservatives adore a disgraced liberal who’s willing to pander to them because he’s too weak to grow. How pathetic to take them up on it.”

“Like every other feminist with a public platform, I am perpetually cast as a disapproving scold. But what’s the alternative? To approve? I do not approve.” - This is probably my most favourite line in the entire book

“Not only are women expected to weather sexual violence, intimate partner violence, workplace discrimination, institutional subordination, the expectation of free domestic labor, invisible cuts that undermine us daily, we are not even allowed to be angry about it.”

“I’d been taught that when ordinary people try to do activism, they look stupid. Of course now I know that there is no effective activism without the passion and commitment of ordinary people and it is a basic duty of the privileged to show up and fight for issues that don’t affect us directly. But maintaining that separation has served the status quo well. It keeps good people always just shy of taking action. It’s tone policing. It’s the white moderate. But it’s changing.”

“Diet culture is a coercive, misogynist pyramid scheme that saps women’s economic and political power.”

Definitely the best thing I’ve read all year. GO BUY!

[pneumasthesia]

Chapter 11

D. The Professor

Second Act – Perception: Part 2

 “It was the Professor himself who brought the gun into this room” I say, much to my own surprise.

“Well, yeah, of course” says the “great detective” beside me.

“What? You knew that this whole time?” exclaims the older man.

“I mean, I saw it in the living room downstairs. That was right before I heard the gunshot with this guy” he says, grabbing ahold of my shoulders tighter than before.

“But why would he bring his own murder weapon to the scene of the crime” contemplates the middle-aged woman.

The older man shudders, the same thought crossing his mind as did mine.

“I highly doubt that he would kill himself. He wouldn’t have written a dying message to incriminate someone if it was a suicide and more importantly …” I hesitate for a moment, “he’s not the type to just give up and die, no matter what.”

Every guest in the room turns their attention to me. I can’t say with certainty that I know the Professor well enough to make those claims, but I need to, for my own sake more than anything. This was someone’s fault. I need to believe that, so I can blame them.

“Well then, let’s put aside the suicide angle for now” the middle-aged woman says with an air of finality, “but if that was not his reason for bringing a gun into his office, then why did he do it?”

Why did he do it? I think I have a pretty good idea of what it was.

But I can’t say it.

I value patient confidentiality, even after the patient has died.

I have to direct the conversation elsewhere. I need to find a new piece of evidence, a new angle of analysis.

What have I not examined yet?

  May 31st, 8:00 pm

 What had I not accounted for?

The transport schedules were all precisely on time. There were no traffic issues or road problems, neither was there an abnormal lack of them. I had calculated everything perfectly.

Yet here I am, half an hour early to my meeting with the Professor.

What a damnable annoyance! I can’t just go right into the Professor’s lovely wooden mansion and sit right down. He’s a busy man and if I come so early, it’ll seem like I’m desperate to see him again. Just imagining the horrifically smug smirk that the good Professor will give me if I come in now, I can hardly bear the thought.

 I suppose I’ll have to wait. That’s fine. I’ve had plenty of experience waiting.

This wait, however, is especially interminable. My mind keeps returning to the thought of where I went wrong with my transportation plan. Quiet down you incorrigible meat sack in my skull! 

My head feels just awful right now. There are too many thoughts filling my mind. I normally have a lot of thoughts, it’s a point of pride for me, even if it can be a liability at times. Right now, however, these thoughts are too much even for myself to withstand. It feels as if a second brain has been forced into my skull and now they are both fighting to think over one another

I should try my hardest to relax for once. Sit down in the shade of a tall tree and wait at the Northernmost outer wall of the mansion for the agreed upon time to come.

What’s that sound? Footsteps? Of course there would be footsteps coming from the mansion. There must be much to do in order to prepare for the coming meeting.

These footsteps are short and sharp, followed by the metallic banging of pots and pans. Strange. Unless he’s changed since I last saw him, I don’t think the Professor was this small, and he definitely wasn’t one for cooking. Oh, but of course, this must be an assistant of his. It figures that he wouldn’t leave civilization like this without someone to take care of him. He really doesn’t change, does he.

These footsteps, I’m sure these are the Professor’s. They have that languid, confident gait that I recognize as my dear Zero’s. However, they sound muffled. I put my ear to the earth. His footsteps are coming from underground, in a basement below his mansion. Is he preparing something for the meeting?

My thoughts are interrupted by a new sound. Coming from easternmost side of the building, the squeaking of an unused doorframe, more specifically the beginning of a squeaking doorframe whose sound is quickly cut off as the person opening the door stops to hide it. A third set of footsteps enter the mansion. They trundle down a staircase and enter right into the basement. They stay there, near the Professor for some time before they cut off. I hear a rumbling as a set of pullies are activated, then the confident stride of the Professor as he strides up the staircase from the basement to the ground floor to the second floor. On the second floor, I hear both the Professor’s footsteps and the third pair, recognizable by its clumsy, heavy footfalls, stay by one another for quite some time.

Then there begins a loud banging sound. It continues for a few minutes. It sounds like two people are fighting. The flimsy wooden walls shake visibly from the impacts.

A door opens on the southernmost side of the mansion, a different and better-oiled door than the first. A soft set of footsteps enter and are greeted by the servant. The banging noise from the second-floor ceases.

Several minutes pass with no significant movement, then another set of footsteps enter, again through the well-oiled door on the south wall. The Professor’s footsteps come down the staircase to the first floor, leaving the other resident of the second floor to pace around in circles where he left them.

The mansion is filled with movement as the newest pair of footsteps begins stomping around the entire building. How rude of them to do so before the meeting has even begun.

What time is it? 8:32 pm! I’m late!

I gather up my belongings and walk as quickly as I can to the southern main entrance of the building. I refuse to be the last person to come to this meeting. I mustn’t be rude, nor should I be overly courteous. I just need to be precisely ordinary. Nothing more and nothing less.

 01:17:35

 “Good, good, good. That was a nice and ordinary trip, wasn’t it? Nothing more than we need and nothing less either.”

“How is this going to change anything?”

“The truth will set you free, as they say.”

“You mean to tell me that what I’ve been seeing is the truth?”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re seeing per say.”

“Ah, so you’re allowed to make blind jokes but I’m not?”

“This is the one thing that I can do that sighted people can’t. Don’t take it away from me.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Just answer my question.”

“I can assure you that what I’ve shown you is truer than anything that you remember.”

“So you mean to say that this isn’t the truth of these events.”

“That’s an awfully cynical way to interpret that statement.”

“But is it wrong?”

“Heh, no. But what does it matter? All human observation is based on falsehood.”

“More philosophical ramblings? Save it for your doctoral thesis.”

“Aww, but you seemed to be enjoying our little debate before.”

“I wasn’t in the right mind then.”

“And you are now? I don’t see how an ill temper is more correct than a good temper.”

“Joy is an illogical emotion. It is better, evolutionarily speaking, for animals to be in an ill temper at all times.”

“Hmm, a bold claim from someone who is neither a biologist nor a psychologist. Why do you say that?”

“Joy is when an animal revels in their own success. During this revelry, an animal is prone to lose sight of the material world and ignore potential dangers. When in an ill mood, an animal is more likely to focus on immediate dangers, which keeps them alert and safe.”

“Perhaps, but we are not animals. As humans in a civilized society, we are rarely in immediate danger.”

“Rarely, you say. That means not never. Preserving one’s own life is the utmost concern for a living being, so it follows that even if there is a slim possibility for danger, that creature should always do everything in their power to prevent it.”

“You assumed that the primary goal of a living being is the preservation of their life, but I would argue that a living being’s utmost concern is the pursuit of happiness, and as such choosing to eschew joy for an ill temperament because of pragmatic purposes is actually counterproductive most of the time.”

“What even is joy? What constitutes a positive emotion? That’s a non-specific concept. It will change for every person and in every situation. You cannot base your worldview on the pursuit of an illusion.”

“Ah, so you admit that observation is based on falsehood!”

“!? What! Were you trying to trap me in that conclusion from the start?”

“No. I’m not that smart. I was just enjoying chatting with you and ended up getting to that by accident. Perhaps the pursuit of joy and pragmatism are not mutually exclusive after all.”

“…”

“Well you can mull that thought over in the loser’s corner all you’d like; we have more questions to get through.”

“…”

“Hmm, are you alright? I refuse to let you sulk as long as you did when we began this session.”

“I’m not sulking … I’m just trying to gather my thoughts.”

“Do you want to continue our debate? I’ll let you take as much time as you need to think about your argument before we continue.”

“I don’t need your pity, and I don’t want to talk about useless things anymore.”

“I don’t like that you called my intellectual pursuits ‘useless’, but I’m willing to put that aside. We’ve done quite a few questions by now. Time sure does fly when you’re having fun.”

“It feels like it’s been an eternity since we started.”

“For you, perhaps. But there’s still another eternity left to go. We’re just barely over halfway done now. Well actually I think I miscounted, we’re a fair bit more than halfway done with the list of questions I had prepared. How scatterbrained of me.”

“So what’s the next question?”

“Yes, yes, yes. I’m on it. I will satisfy my favorite pupil’s desire to learn as long as I am able.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Ahem, yes. My apologies. So, for this question, how many people were in the Professor’s home at the time of the murder?”

“I don’t know much about what happened at precisely the time of the murder. At least from what you’ve shown me.”

“Yes, you do. If you remember what you’ve witnessed, you know enough about the whereabouts of the house’s guests at the time of the murder to at least answer this question. And you’ve recently come upon some corroborating evidence that if you use together with what you know about how the guests entered the house, you can certainly answer this question.”

“Alright, but this doesn’t seem like it has anything to do with any of the previous questions.”

“You’re right, but determining the truth often requires a lot of detours and when you’re trying to do so by navigating the messy pathways of the human mind, it’ll naturally take all the more. But never mind that, tell me, how many people were in the house when the murder occurred?”

 >Pick one:

A.    4

B.     5

C.    6

D.    7