#he enjoys the power the RCM gives him

[isabelguerra]

@weirdbabs SURPRIIIIISE I'M YOUR PARANATURAL SECRET SANTA!!!!! MERRY HOLIDAY!!!

We've been peripherally mutualblogging about Disco Elysium for just over a month now, and it’s been really fun to both go through your tag and watch my notifications as you go through mine. Your ss info said you like Max and Dad Puckett, so for my gift I imitated them in the DE portrait style for you! I hope you like it. Happy holidays!!!!!!! 🎁🎁🎁 @paranaturalsecretsanta

FRITTTE CASHIER — A young boy, no older than 12, drags his eyes up at you from behind the counter. It is immediately obvious that there is nowhere in this world that he wants to be less. He holds an aluminium baseball bat at his side.

LOGIC [Challenging: Failure] — For robbers, definitely. Best not to mess with him.

SUGGESTION — .....Oh man. It looks *really* cool, though. Shiny too. Would probably feel great to swing. Totally *disco*. I’m just saying: you should ask him for it. Better yet — recruit him! He can be your *weilding sidekick*. Maybe he has some experience already? Ask him now!

1. "Good afternoon! Yet can any afternoon be *good* when caught in the cogs of capitalism........?"

2. [Suggestion - Godly 16] Convince the child to give you his bat and/or join you in the fray.

⚀ ⚀

CHECK FAILURE

SUGGESTION [Godly: Failure] — You march up to the Frittte counter and, with a comically exaggerated wink, promptly tell the child he seems like he’d make a really good *weird psychic*. That’s not what I said to ask him. It isn’t.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant stifles a snort behind his fist. He’s enjoying this- your ridiculous little slip-up.

FRITTTE CASHIER — The boy looks at you both, wordless. His eye twitches. “Very funny,” he drawls. “Who are you, the new Consortium agents? Did Isabel send you ahead of schedule to poke fun at the magnet powers guy? Yeah, well at least magnets are cooler than freaking flippi-”

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] — Woah, woah, woah. This kid’s talking some *seriously supra-natural* stuff! “Consortium”? “Magnet powers”??? Whatever he’s talking about doesn’t just sound supra-natural, it almost sounds… *Para-natur—*

RECENTLY SINGLE FATHER OF TWO — “MAXIE-BOY! GRAB ZOEY AND HOOF IT TO THE SAFE ROOM, THE RCM HAS FINALLY CAUGHT ON TO MY YEARS OF MONEY LAUNDERING!”

[hopefully-inspiring-persona]

Honestly, I know there’s a lot of people in the fandom that kinda view Kim as pure and can do no wrong and only good natured, and when I see people draw him with the lungs it makes me think about that, but also it’s accurate.

Like, the lungs themselves are connected to a figure who is widely seen as innocent and amazing, but there are hints in the game that the character is not actually as good as we were initially led to believe. Dolores is seen as inhuman to some, and some of the decisions she made could probably be considered really bad, but we do still view here as a good figure, and when I thought about it I really really began to appreciate the lungs and halo being a Kim thing.

I don’t really know if everyone who draws Kim means to draw that parallel or if I am actually just 599 iq who can see things in media no one else can see with my special eyes, but I really appreciate that symbolism and depth of meaning. Ugh I love Kim.

[boethiah]

(DE question) I’m uncomfortable to say that Harry losing his memory is “better” for him — amnesia is traumatizing, the game says that often, and on average memory loss doesn’t get credited as serious trauma. I don’t believe the game glorifies this; there’s lots of critique and considerations and this clearly haunts Harry.

Yet, Harry does become a different character after he loses his memories. His past is fixed — but depending on your choices in the game, you do have a fresh start with who Harry would become. Life, Death, and Life Again. Do you agonize over that as much as I do? It’s hard to see Harry before the events of Disco Elysium, meta-narrative because it’s a Game and you’re stuck to the game’s script instead of experiencing it. The information that is clear to us is awful: Harry took away a culprit’s ability to walk, the whole woman incident, he’s been described as emotionally manipulative and destructive by people closest to him, etc.

I see Harry as a villain bc there’s just a lot of points that paints him as one. Being a cop in general, the game’s (subconscious) driving to get the player to loot people’s properties, and it’s more apparent when Kim says things like “The Jamrock Shuffle” (pointing out Precinct 41’s tendency to raid). I don’t know where I’m going with this, but there’s just a lot to dissect here. I enjoy DE and this is one of the things I love picking at

(Harry amnesia anon again) to clarify I don’t think the game considers Harry anything but bad either, there’s occasions where the RCM is criticized. The whole suspect situation is bleak too — you’re not giving the closure Revachol would need, as a cop. There’s just a bunch of things to think about though! The whole allowing Harry to improve as the player committing to helping him, but also restricted to supporting very precarious conditions that teeters on allowing awful people to run away without reprimand.

i don't think the game glosses over how traumatic harry's amnesia is-- trauma is an overt theme in the game. there's a fantastic kotaku article that makes the comparison of the various "skills" you interact with throughout the game and the ways that trauma fractures your identity. authority, electrochemistry, physical instrument, pain threshold-- these are all just various ways of responding to the constant fight-or-flight state PTSD puts you into.

i'm a firm subscriber to the theory that harry attempted suicide during the bender that induced his amnesia. and on a personal note, DE does a better job than any media i've ever seen of the fucked up, confusing, lonely experience of trying to put your life back together after surviving a suicide attempt. it's something i'm dealing with right now and it sucks. you repress like hell while your body reels from the trauma of a near-death experience. you have to somehow handle all the same stresses of life that pushed you over the edge in the first place, you have to figure out how to live again when you don’t really even want to live. i don't think that harry's amnesia is "better" for him-- but then again, what would be better? if he'd succeeded in killing himself? he is, in fact, a terrible person, so would it be "better" if he died?

and i think that's what makes DE so compelling-- it's impossible to make a choice that is "right" or "good". on my first playthru i tried to help everyone and fix everything, and it ended with dozens dead and kim getting shot. it's frustrating, it's depressing, and it's absolutely accurate to how things work in real life. games feed us an idea that we single-handedly have the power to help everyone and fix everything, and DE turns that on its head. in the final confrontation with jean, you can try to tell him about all the good you've done, and none of it really matters

as you said, one cop can't give revachol what it needs, because the problems that revachol faces are systemic. you, as a player, can't really give harry the help he needs either, because his problems started long before we woke up on that hotel room floor. the power of an individual is so small. there's no happy conclusion where everything is fixed. you can't heal martinaise and you can't heal yourself; all you can do is try

[robertemeryofficial]

How to choose a musical instrument

Most of you know me as a conductor. Someone who waves my arms around in unusual patterns and in return, I usually get paid in pounds; unless I'm working in the desert where they offer me a couple of camels instead. Conducting however has been a minor part of my life compared to what I always wanted to be; a pianist. But how did I choose a musical instrument?

Tinkling the ivories was supposed to be my career, so what happened? To get to that, I need to take you on a journey to 1990, when I was seven. This was when Top of the Pops was still on the box. My favourite hobby was to listen to the song that reached number one and then dash to the family heirloom that was an out of tune, ivory keyed piano, and figure out how to play the piece. This all happened long before I had lessons, and in fact, this was the catalyst for my Mother to contact the local teacher down the road.

Every Wednesday for a year I walked 5 minutes to the teacher's house. Every Wednesday I manipulated the teacher to play the piece for me that she wanted me to learn, and every Wednesday I'd then memorise what she performed and could pretty much play it straight away. People thought I was a wunderkind; I wasn't - it's just that I could copy and mimic well. As a child, I wasn't doing this deliberately to fool everyone into thinking I could read music - I just found copying a quicker and more direct way to learn the piano. It wasn't until my Mother placed some sheet music in front of me that I openly admitted I couldn't understand what all the squashed flies on the page were.

From that moment on I was sent to Margaret Toon, a teacher who was a 15 minutes drive away and was the equivalent of a hard-working, reliable, sturdy Volvo compared to the previous Lada. In two and a half years, Mrs Toon taught me to read music and took me from grade one to seven (out of eight). In the blink of an eye, I could play the piano. But did you know I was also playing the cello and clarinet?

No. Of course you didn't. Imagine a bat who has lost its voice and can't produce the sonar echolocation sound it needs to. Now imagine the result when heading towards that rather large brick wall; a cartoon-like 'SPLAT' and a speech bubble 'OUCH'. That is my cello playing. The clarinet was far worse. And here lies the most significant misconception amongst parents when it comes to music tuition. If little Jonny is so atrocious at the violin you banish his Psycho screeching to the attic, not only will he feel unenthused that his parents want him as far away as possible, but he will feel like the mouse in the trap; cheesed-off. Did it ever occur to Mr and Mrs Big Jonny that perhaps the violin was not the right instrument for him?

If your child doesn't like learning the instrument they are playing, there are only three possible reasons why:

1. They have a lousy, tedious, insipid teacher

2. They have an excellent teacher, but the instrument isn't right for them

3. See number one or two

That's it. No other options are available; so stop trying to complicate matters.

I genuinely believe that every child has the capacity to love playing an instrument. I suspect if you put that child in a room with all the instruments ever invented, and the most fantastic teacher for each instrument, they would pick one that they want to play, and they would lap it up like a cat drinking its lactose-free milk.

For four years I played my instrument every evening. I had one lesson a week. I played in the school assemblies. I played for the school concerts and theatrical productions (knowing what I know now, I'm not sure if you could call them 'theatrical' - but I'll let fond memories take precedence). I had a weekly general music lesson at school where I could bang a tambourine and call it music. I played for the school choir. I played background music for the school open days. If you didn't realise by now, I played all the time. And aside from my private music lessons, my music teacher at St Michael's primary school, Mrs June Davenhill, was the gift that keeps giving. She gave me an all-around musical education and the opportunity to play at all those events listed above, and more. I had the support and slight pushiness from my parents, from my private piano teacher, and the school. I had a twenty-four hour, fifteen tog duvet of music wrapped around me; to which there was no escape. Looking back, I would have had to try really hard not to become a musician.

All of this was due to my interest in the piano which the adults responded in kind. Almost everyone I've ever met thinks I was born to play music. But if I chose the clarinet as my first instrument, I think my blog would be called 'Robert Emery proves that Search Engine Optimisation can be fun' and I would have coding as a hobby. The fifteen tog duvet would be a summer four point five, and I would have had to try really hard to become a musician.

After my generous primary school experience, I moved to secondary school and at the same time was sent to the newly opened Birmingham Conservatoire Junior School (I was literally the first pupil to be signed up) and for six out of those eight years, I upgraded from the excellent Volvo to the inspiring Rolls-Royce that was Heather Slade-Lipkin. The BCJS operated every Saturday, and the inspirations of Mrs Toon and Mrs Davenhill combined to make the power-house that was Mrs Slade-Lipkin.

Believe it or not, for the first few months I continued to study cello and clarinet alongside the piano. Perhaps my most significant luck in life so far was figuring out I could enjoy and play the piano BEFORE I even thought about trying other instruments. So when my failure on the two C's was more prominent than the mess that is Brexit, it didn't matter. I just dropped them with no repercussions.

Under the leadership of Heather, the BCJS gave me lessons in aural, theory, general musicianship, piano, organ, composition, improvisation, choir, orchestra - and the method of teaching meant I never felt like I was learning. At this age, I was doing the most important thing; having fun with my friends and being a grotty teenager. But crucially, I was enveloped with music. It was everywhere, so much so it formed part of my DNA. This didn't happen by accident. My parents and teachers carefully curated it. By this time I had stopped experimenting with other instruments and settled on the piano. Yes, I played the organ, but I was told from a young age that one could earn a fast buck or two playing down the local church, so I figured it would be a sensible back-stop if my piano career didn't take off. The massive shortage of organists in the UK meant I had more work than I could cope with, and at thirteen, I was earning on average £30 a week - which for a teenager growing up on the outskirts of Birmingham in a little village meant I felt like 'Del-Boy'; this time next year...

After Heather thrust me into competitions such as the BBC Young Musician of the Year, she steered my playing so that I would become one of two pianists accepted from the UK at the Royal College of Music. It was finally time to flee the nest and move to London. And for me, this was where I became an adult. It was now my responsibility to wrap myself in that duvet of music, and for a couple of years, I failed dismally. I was interested in making money, and that came at the expense of my playing. Becoming 'a concert pianist' was harder work than I thought. I needed to use my skills as an organist to tie me over. The job notice board at the RCM clearly said 'DO NOT REMOVE THESE NOTICES', so when I found an organist ad for the perfect church in the perfect location, I immediately ripped it from its pin and put it in my pocket. I persuaded St Paul's in Chiswick to give me a job, and the duvet of music was slowly coming back to me. I had chosen the organ as an instrument when I was eleven, but it wasn't until eighteen that I started conducting. I thought it looked a lot of fun, but due to my studies at the RCM I was trying to become a serious pianist for serious people; this meant pausing anything that had the word 'fun' associated with it and replacing it with 'practice'.

You can imagine my reaction when after a Sunday morning service, a professional conductor offered me some work as his assistant. This meant I had to conduct, which to me was breaking the rules and having fun again, and so like a duck to water, I quacked. Waving my arms was exciting, and as the number of camels for payment seemed to be higher than playing the piano, I thought I'd stick with it; pardon the pun. The rest, as they say, is history.

If there is one thing to learn from this miniaturised path of my life, it should be that like everything else; music is a journey. It doesn't start or stop with the first pluck of that string. Inspire your child by getting them to practice in the room you are in, and if squawking on a saxophone doesn't empower them as Pelé with that ball, change the sport, and see if hitting a drum will make them feel like Björn Borg with a bat. So finally you ask 'How do you choose a musical instrument?' The answer: You don't; it'll choose you.

Book recommendations discussing Music Lessons

Music Lessons: The Collège de France Lectures - Boulez book publishing his extraordinary Collège de France lectures

THE Music Lesson - From Grammy-winning musical icon and legendary bassist Victor L. Wooten comes The Music Lesson, the story of a struggling young musician who wanted music to be his life, and who wanted his life to be great.

How to Play the Piano despite Years of Lessons: What Music is and How to Make it at Home - an adults guide to learning music

I Wish I Didn't Quit: Music Lessons - A great little book helping you to inspire your child with tips from world-class musicians

Help Your Kids With Music: A unique step-by-step visual guide - Are your children struggling with music theory? This book by Carol Vorderman might be just what the need. Newly released in 2019.

A Child's Introduction to the Orchestra (Revised): Listen While You Learn About the Instruments, the Music and the Composers Who Wrote the Music! - an interactive, bestselling introduction to the world of classical music.

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