#its just that this is the one i figured the greatest number of people would recognize

[thepringlesofblood]

out of context neverafter ep 18 spoilers

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

SET FOURTEEN - ROUND ONE - MATCH SEVEN

"Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks" (1880–1891 - Ilya Repin) / "Garden of Earthly Delights" (1490-1510 - Hieronymus Bosch)

REPLY OF THE ZAPOROZHIAN COSSACKS: Uuuuuuooo I’m pretty sure somebody has submitted the world famous Repin with the fella holding his dead son, and yeah that one is truly harrowing and I think it should be in the final bracket cause it would sweep but Repin has such a range and it’s all very deeply felt and sensitive stuff. For this one he did a couple of versions - you could pick either because they’re both rich in a really immediate sense of humanity. Again on the technical side this is a truly bonkers piece of work because he stitched its elements together from countless studies of people he knew and the result is still somehow a Realist masterpiece rather than the patchwork amalgamation you’d expect.

And each figure isn’t just irresistibly human - he gives all of them so much tangible warmth (the riotous laughter! The attention paid to detail in their clothes! The irritated dog in the bottom left corner) and the fact that theyre all his friends and colleagues is really charming. Dunno if its like “molten lava” kind of evocation of emotion but it certainly makes me feel something. ( @idiotpalespiral )

GARDEN OF EARTHLY DELIGHTS: think it's one of the greatest odes to human imagination and it's insane that it was painted around 1500. it's hard to overstate how innovate and unique bosch's art is. besides, he probably hadn't even ever taken acid in his life, so i don't know how he did that (@cuties-in-codices)

(The "Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks" is an oil on canvas painting by Ukranian born Russian artist Ilya Repin. A large number of the "Cossacks" are modelled after either friends of Repin or people he saw around him, including the bald head belonging to the Grand Chamberlain of the court of the Russian Emperor who declined to be added and Repin painted in anyway. This painting measures 203 cm × 358 cm (80 in × 141 in) and is located at the State Russian Museum in Saint Petersburg. The submitter originally submitted the preliminary version of the piece.

"The Garden of Earthly Delights" is a triptych oil painting by Hieronymus Bosch. It measures 205.5 cm × 384.9 cm (81 in × 152 in) and is located in the Museo del Prado, Madrid.)

[thosearentcrimes]

The Achaemenid/First Persian Empire is kind of wild. At the time of its greatest conquests it was the largest empire the world had ever seen, by a significant amount. Like any good empire it's a triumph of logistics, of course, but what's unusual is the character of the logistics in question. The kinds of empire we're used to are generally either basically maritime (Roman, Spanish, British, American) or basically horselord (Xiongnu, Parthian, Mongol, American) or Chinese (special case, the general tendency for there to exist a Chinese Empire is impressive in its own right but relatively familiar).

The Achaemenid Empire touched a lot of seas and bodies of water (Indus, Indian Ocean, Persian Gulf, Tigris and Euphrates, Red Sea, Nile, Mediterranean, Aegean and Bosporus, Black Sea, Caspian Sea) and certainly these would have been used to facilitate logistics to some degree (Persian invasions of Greece relied on naval support, for example), but it certainly seems like the fundamental lifeline of their state was their extensive system of roads. The Romans talk a big game about their road system but ultimately the major logistical corridors of the Roman state were maritime and riverine. The Inca Empire was similarly road-based, likewise a hilly/mountainous region, and is also extremely cool, but didn't last nearly as long and was much smaller.

Herodotus says: "There is nothing mortal that is faster than the system that the Persians have devised for sending messages. Apparently, they have horses and men posted at intervals along the route, the same number in total as the overall length in days of the journey, with a fresh horse and rider for every day of travel. Whatever the conditions—it may be snowing, raining, blazing hot, or dark—they never fail to complete their assigned journey in the fastest possible time. The first man passes his instructions on to the second, the second to the third, and so on." A different translation of a section of this passage is famously associated with the US postal service.

Herodotus may be wrong in the details because the actual intervals between adjacent waystations seem to have been on the order of 16-26km, a distance a rider could reach in an hour (and perhaps most relevantly, a pedestrian or army might reach in a day), and as such it's certainly plausible horses were changed more than daily, as is attested in later relay postal networks, but it's easily possible he was right about their incredible speed. A perhaps somewhat generous estimated speed of government messages along this route is ~230km/day, by analogy of the pirradazish to the Pony Express and barid systems. This would make them faster than Roman communications, though certainly we have to recognize that maritime transport is ultimately faster and more convenient for trade in bulk goods and food. All figures taken from H.P. Colburn, "Connectivity and Communication in the Achaemenid Empire" Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 56 (2013).

That's so cool! It's several hundred BCE and they have a complex permanent relay system with stations every couple dozen km, on a system of roads running throughout an empire thousands of km from center to edge. Just for one road, like the Sardis-Susa section that the Greeks usually talk about, that's over a hundred stations, each with a stock of supplies, backup mounts and riders, accommodations, anything else they might need, and Sardis-Susa was just one possible road stretch among many. That's incredible! I wish we knew what the people who made it and ran it thought. What was the life of a gas station attendant waystation operator in the reign of Artaxerxes I like?

It's kind of tragic that the Achaemenid Empire has been marginalized historiographically for so long. Generally it was treated as significant for its invasions and meddling in Greece, for ending the Babylonian captivity, or for providing a ready-made empire for Alexander to take over. It's not nothing, other places and time periods end up with much less of an imprint on our contemporary understanding of the past. We know a lot of cool stuff. But I wish we had more reflections on Persia from within. Most of what we seem to have is reports from Greeks, fragmentary letters and steles, and precious few excavation sites.

[tomorrowusa]

It's ironic that the administration of the oldest president could be marked by the emergence of a fresh crop of politically savvy young politicians.

David Hogg, one of the organizers of March For Our Lives, is co-founder of a group dedicated to supporting young liberals who run for office.

Leaders We Deserve describes itself as an "EMILY’s List for young people" and that's a useful way to look at it.

The PAC was founded just over five months ago and it's off to a good start.

A Democratic group that aims to recruit and support young candidates for state legislative office announced it raised more than $3 million in the latest quarter of fundraising.   Leaders We Deserve — a group founded by activist David Hogg along with Kevin Lata, Rep. Maxwell Frost’s (D-Fla.) former campaign manager — announced Wednesday its fundraising haul between October and December. More than 100,000 donations were made, with the average contribution being $25, according to figures first shared with The Hill. The group received donations from every state.

Their original goal was to raise $1 million but they took in triple that. And they are using those funds to help younger candidates in races where they can make the biggest difference.

In an interview with The Hill, Hogg said that the goal last quarter was to raise at least $1 million. Hogg, a survivor of the Parkland high school shooting in 2018 who also co-founded March for Our Lives, said the group would be announcing its next slate of endorsed candidates “very soon” and was in the “final stages” of choosing the next picks.   “Part of what we’re doing is really narrowing in on the states where young people can have the biggest impact and not just in voting for these candidates, of course, but voting in statewide races where they may be more inspired to turn out and vote in the first place, especially in a place like Montana, for example, where we could potentially help to break the supermajority,” Hogg told The Hill. Hogg also noted the importance of keeping young voters engaged, as they’ve proven to make or break key races. “The number one reason why young people have turned out to vote so much over the past three election cycles is because of Donald Trump in terms of voting against him, but Donald Trump is not going to be there forever,” said the Leaders We Deserve co-founder.   “And from the work that young people [have] done in the movements over the past several election cycles like March for Our Lives, the environmental movement, the movement for racial justice and others, we know that young people are one of our best ways of stopping Democratic backsliding, ’cause they turn out and vote in such a high rate,” Hogg said. “But we can’t just keep voting against things. We have to vote for something, and we also need to see ourselves represented in office to know that our votes are actually mattering and having an impact and to give us what I perceive to be the greatest way to help our democracy, which is hope.” 

People who vote are taken more seriously than people who don't vote. And one thing which encourages voting is having candidates who reflect the electorate.

Briefly mentioned in the article is that Leaders We Deserve places a high priority on state legislative races. Many disturbing anti-abortion and anti-LGBTQ laws get passed in red states because MAGA Republicans have supermajorities in legislatures.

If you're interested, visit their site. If you do contact them, encourage them to become active on Tumblr.

Leaders We Deserve | Invest in Young People

And because state legislative races deserve more attention, look up who represents you in your state capital. If it's MAGA Republicans, get active in the campaign of their Democratic opponents.

Find Your Legislators Look your legislators up by address or use your current location.

Thinking of running for state legislature yourself? The age and residency requirements are mostly lower than for Congress. See what the requirements are in your state.

Eligibility Requirements to Run for the State Legislature

Presidents Franklin Roosevelt, Jimmy Carter, and Barack Obama (among others) all served in their state legislatures at one time.

Perhaps you are one of the leaders your state deserves. 🙂

[twistedtummies2]

Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes - Number 20

Welcome to A Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes! During this month-long event, I’ll be counting my Top 31 Favorite Fictional Detectives, from movies, television, literature, video games, and more! Today, the countdown enters the Top 20!

SLEUTH-OF-THE-DAY’S QUOTE: “Kill me if you can!”

Number 20 is…L, from Death Note.

So far, all of the detectives on this list have been protagonist figures. Not all of them have been the MAIN protagonists (although the grand majority have been), but the focus in every situation up till now has been on the detectives trying to solve the cases. This, of course, is not always the case: not every protagonist is a hero, not every antagonist is a villain, and there are two sides to every story. While antagonistic detectives are somewhat rare, they do exist, and in various forms. Most I didn’t feel deserved placement on this countdown, however, due to one or more of the rules I established at the start. This character, however, is an exception.

“Death Note” is a highly-acclaimed anime and manga franchise, which sort of toes the line between crime/mystery drama and supernatural horror. The plot focuses on a Villain Protagonist: Light Yagami, a.k.a. Kira. Light is a precocious young man with a lot of high ideals: he sees the world as a corrupt place, and wishes there was a way to right the wrongs and bring true justice to the people. This desire gets twisted and warped when he comes into possession of the titular Death Note: a notebook with a very dark and dangerous magical ability. Whenever someone’s name is written in the Death Note…they die. And the person who writes the name down can even choose how and when they die, if they so wish. Light realizes the book has the power to grant him the justice he craves so much; consumed by the Death Note’s power, he goes mad and becomes the serial killer “Kira,” using its power to destroy anybody he deems unfit of living in the world he wants to create…or just anybody who gets in his way.

Light does not go unchallenged in the series, and this is where our contender for today comes into play: a mysterious private investigator known simply as “L.” This young fellow is a foil to Light, in a lot of ways: Light is seemingly normal, well-spoken, clean-cut, and conventionally attractive. L, in contrast, is a reclusive little hobgoblin obsessed with computers and candy. What both share is the fact they are each geniuses, both wiser and more clever than their youthful years would indicate. L becomes determined to solve the case of Kira, and it’s his actions and choices that create much of the conflict Light must face on his self-righteous and deadly quest.

Much of the show revolves around the concept of a single word I’ve used here already: “justice.” All of the major characters have their own philosophies and outlooks on what “true justice” really is. Light believes justice is as simple as punishing the guilty; as he is corrupted by the power the Death Note brings to him, he comes to think that the only way one can achieve true justice is to eliminate all of one’s enemies, so that those you care about can be rewarded and saved. L believes much the same, but he sees it from a different point of view: he believes Kira should be punished for his crimes, because that is what “true justice” is, regardless of his motivations. However, L is not a pure and simple hero in this story; he does things that are legally and ethically questionable in his pursuit of putting Kira behind bars. His ideal of justice is set up by the precedent that murder is wrong, and therefore catching murderers is just; how one actually goes about doing that is not something he really cares about on the whole.

Another thing that makes L interesting is his relationship with Light: while the two are dead serious about destroying one another, each comes to see the other as probably the closest thing either has ever had to a real, true friend. Indeed, there are, one could argue, subtle implications of romance between the pair. This makes what happens to L later in the manga and the anime even more tragic, because – SPOILER ALERT – in both, L does not survive the entire series. However, even after he dies, he’s far from done with Light Yagami, as things L did before his destruction ultimately do lead to Kira’s downfall. In the words of a different story, “Neither can live while the other survives.” Their twin paths ultimately result in mutual destruction, which is wonderfully poetic. I would argue the musical of Death Note (yes, there IS a musical, and it’s actually pretty good) does this even better than either the anime OR the manga…but that’s another story for another time.

Tomorrow, the countdown continues with Number 19!

CLUE: “Everyone has thought about killing someone, one way or another.”

[ettelenethelien]

Comparative Studies, or Twice on the Verge of Falling  

The Rimôn fresco of Elwing is considered to be one of the greatest artworks of the Late Classical Era. Found in the courtyard of the old Helcaril Villa (itself a marvellous example of architectural trends during the reign of Tar-Elendil), it occupies a relatively modestly-sized, but excellently exposed niche across from the entrance. Aside from the considerable fame the artist had later gathered, it remains remarkable both for its vividness of emotional expression, contrasting to the usual art style of the era, and for the number and fame of its copies.  

The best known of these is the one gracing the lesser courtyard of the villa Surë-or-Falmar. Indeed, the glory of the two is so closely interwined that it seems impossible to ascertain which had contributed to the fame of the other more. And yet the effect of the copy wildly differs from that of the original artwork.

The Rimôn Fresco depicts the figure of the young Elwing standing on the cliff with her back to the churning waters below. She is poised halfway toward the drop, as if on the verge of throwing herself in, one hand clasping the Silmaril at her neck. Wind whips at her torn dress and loose hair. A rarity among artworks confronting the subject, it depicts neither the enemy she is facing, nor the the transformation into bird itself. The figure stands alone - and seems strikingly young. Beholders oft remark that it is hard to believe she is meant to depict a wife and a mother.  

The wild and violent atmosphere of the fresco, even though, as with most Classical works, it depicts no blood, and despite the aforementioned lack of actual fighting shown, made its artistic quality fall under scrutiny in its day. From diaries, journals and letters of the period we can, however, see that it proved intriguing enough that people would come visit the Helcaril Villa only to see it in person - and that it won over many of those who were originally critical. Thus it is difficult to ascertain whether the changed nature of the Surë-or-Falmar villa Fresco was intentional on the part of the copyist, or the sign of an inexperienced hand.  

The name of the copy's painter has unfortunately escaped history. The style is typical to the reign of Tar-Meneldur, though an exemplary of its genre rather than a dull attempt at imitating fashion. The colour combinations are soft, slightly more so than in the Rimôn Fresco, the lines clean, and the light hazy. The figure depicted is in the exact same position as that in the original artwork.  

Viewers of both frescoes predominantly agree, however, that despite the technical skill the painter has exhibited, the Surë-or-Falmar Fresco lacks something of Rimôn's Elwing. The posture is just a little less dynamic; the cliff's edge (perhaps unconsciously or accidentally) removed slightly father from Elwing's feet, making her situation seem something less desparate. The wind's effects hardly seem those of a real gale, and more an aesthetic choice. One of the most interesting judgements has been pronounced by Herunimon of Eldalondë in a letter to his cousin, Rilendur, son of Verahil, dated 24th Nárië, 901: "The S.o.F. figure seems less the Lady Elwing fenced in by foes and making a tragic choice, but more the heroine of one of those new romances, unsure whether to flee the scene after a man has confessed his love to her, or to accept his proposal - or, I hardly know, perhaps such heroines lead more exciting lives than I would guess (...) - but anyhow, the fresco seems more like a coloured plate in a rich novel, than a mural depcting a tale of the Elder Days. All in all, there is not one element which does not fit. But taken together, the effect is incongruous." (Collected Letters, volume II, as accessed from the Royal Library in Romenna)  

(from the Romenna Journal of Artistic and Literary Studies)  

***

Editor's note: Remembering the considerable public outcry after the publication of Songs of the Elder Days: Lyrics, History and Analysis, the University of Romenna along with its subsidiary organisations seek to make it understood that the views of authors, as regards the addition or not of Lord and Lady before the names of Lord Eärendil and Lady Elwing, do not necessarily represent its own. Were the University to be flippant, it might also seek to ask why proper respect being accorded to the Lord and Lady seems to be held in greater importance than that it be accorded to the Valar, but the University understands that this would bring on public outcry against it from people on both sides of the moro-political divide, so it shall keep its silence.

[eretzyisrael]

by Robert Spencer

The New York Times wants you to weep for the people of Gaza, and for what Hamas’ massacre of 1,200 Israelis on Oct. 7, which Gazans cheered in large numbers, has brought upon them. In service of that goal, on Christmas Eve the Paper of Record ran a weepy piece by a prominent Gazan, someone who has witnessed the Israeli incursion firsthand. Did the Times give this plumb editorial space to a “moderate” Gazan, a known foe of the Hamas regime, one of those “innocent Palestinians” who have nothing, nothing whatsoever, to do with Hamas? Uh, not quite.

“I Am Gaza City’s Mayor. Our Lives and Culture Are in Rubble,” was written by Yahya R. Sarraj and published in the Times on Sunday. The Times identifies the author in terms that make him sound like an airy, inoffensive intellectual: “Dr. Sarraj is the mayor of Gaza City and a former rector of the University College of Applied Sciences there. He wrote from Gaza City.” 

Yahya R. Sarraj, you see, is no terrorist, he’s a mild-mannered professor. But what the Times doesn’t bother to remind its hapless readers about is the fact that Hamas controls Gaza, and no one can hold the position of being mayor of the largest city in the Gaza Strip without being either an active Hamas member or entirely sympathetic with the terror group’s outlook and goals. Sarraj even alludes to this matter-of-factly in his piece, writing: “One of my major goals after the Hamas administration appointed me mayor in 2019 was to improve the city’s seafront and foster the opening of small businesses along it to create jobs.”

Sarraj spends the bulk of his article doing his best to move the reader to rage against Israel. “As a teenager in the 1980s,” he says, “I watched the construction of the intricately designed Rashad al-Shawa Cultural Center in Gaza City, named after one of Gaza’s greatest public figures, and its theater, grand hall, public library, printing press and cultural salon.” 

This place was so impressive that Sarraj says even Bill Clinton visited it while he was president; it was, in fact, “the gem of Gaza City,” and it meant a great deal to Sarraj personally: “Watching it being built inspired me to become an engineer, which led to a career as a professor and, in the footsteps of al-Shawa, as mayor of Gaza City. Now that gem is rubble. It was destroyed by Israeli bombardment.”

Sarraj claims that “Israel, which began its blockade of Gaza more than 16 years ago and has maintained what the United Nations and human rights groups call an ongoing occupation for far longer, is destroying life here.” Destroying life! Sixteen years ago, in 2007, the population of Gaza was 1,416,543, up from 1,022,207 in 1997. In 2023, it’s 2.2 million, 64% higher than it was in 2007. If the Israelis are “destroying life” in Gaza and even committing a genocide, as many have charged, they’re doing a remarkably ineffective job of it.

Sarraj laments: “Why can’t Palestinians be treated equally, like Israelis and all other peoples in the world? Why can’t we live in peace and have open borders and free trade?” He doesn’t offer any answers, so I will, as the answer is not elusive at all: if Palestinians would stop trying to murder Israeli civilians and destroy the state of Israel altogether, they could have all of that and more.

Why is the New York Times publishing Hamas propaganda? Because doing so is consistent with its longstanding editorial policies. Ninety years ago, on July 9, 1933, just over five months after Adolf Hitler became chancellor of Germany and years after his virulent anti-Semitism and propensity for violence had become internationally known, the Times published a fawning puff piece on the Führer.

Pulitzer Prize-winning “journalist” Anne O’Hare McCormick traveled to Berlin to interview the new chancellor, and in his presence, she was starstruck: “At first sight,” McCormick gushed, “the dictator of Germany seems a rather shy and simple man, younger than one expects, more robust, taller. His sun-browned face is full and is the mobile face of an orator.” McCormick seemed to have a crush on the future butcher of Europe: “His eyes are almost the color the blue larkspur in a vase behind him, curiously childlike and candid. He appears untired and unworried. His voice is as quiet as his black tie and his double-breasted black suit.” 

Hitler, McCormick signaled to her readers, was reasonable and genuine: “He begins to speak slowly and solemnly but when he smiles — and he smiled frequently in the course of the interview — and especially when he loses himself and forgets his listener in a flood of speech, it is easy to see how he sways multitudes. Then he talks like a man possessed, indubitably sincere.” What’s more, “Herr Hitler has the sensitive hand of the artist.”

In the 29th paragraph of a 41-paragraph article, McCormick says that she asked him: “How about the Jews? At this stage how do you measure the gains and losses of your anti-Semetic [sic] policies?” Hitler answered, she said, with “extraordinary fluency,” and she records his answer – a tissue of victim-blaming and excuse-making – at considerable length. Later, she says, “Herr Hitler’s tension relaxed. He smiled his disarming smile.”

Little did Anne O’Hare McCormick realize, as Hitler’s blue larkspur eyes twinkled in her direction and his disarming smile made her heart flutter, that all these years later, the New York Times would not only be publishing puff pieces about authoritarian thugs, but giving them space to propagandize to their heart’s content.

[mediaevalmusereads]

If We Were Villains. By M. L. Rio. Flatiron Books, 2017.

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

Genre: thriller

Series: N/A

Summary: Oliver Marks has just served ten years in jail - for a murder he may or may not have committed. On the day he's released, he's greeted by the man who put him in prison. Detective Colborne is retiring, but before he does, he wants to know what really happened a decade ago.

As one of seven young actors studying Shakespeare at an elite arts college, Oliver and his friends play the same roles onstage and off: hero, villain, tyrant, temptress, ingenue, extra. But when the casting changes, and the secondary characters usurp the stars, the plays spill dangerously over into life, and one of them is found dead. The rest face their greatest acting challenge yet: convincing the police, and themselves, that they are blameless.

***Full review below.***

Content Warnings: violence, misogyny, suicide, blood

Overview: I followed the author of this book on tumblr way back in the day while she was blogging about her writing journey. To be honest, I didn't have a strong opinion about her one way or the other, but I found the premise of her book intriguing. As a lover of premodern and early modern English literature, I figured I should give the finished product a whirl. Well, I finally was in the mood. Overall, my opinions on this book are a little mixed, but leaning towards positive. While I do think Rio does a good job creating a Dark Academia atmosphere and the emotional devastation of the last half of the book was well-executed, I think her characters and prose leave a little something to be desired. Still, for a debut novel, this was fairly memorable, so it gets 3.5 stars from me.

Writing: Rio's prose has its ups and downs, with some parts flowing quite well and others not so much. When the scenes were full of action (for example, the Macbeth performance and the Julius Caesar rehearsal afterwards), I was fairly engrossed in the story, so I think Rio does best when there are moments of tension inserted into performances or just after (like at various parties).

However, I also think Rio could have done more to show rather than tell. Because this book is told in first person, our narrator, Oliver, tends to be very straightforward about what he is feeling as well as side comments about background or context info. Personally, I felt like Rio could have held back a little more or been more abstract about how characters were feeling and acting.

Furthermore, I had some mixed feelings about using Shakespeare quotes as dialogue. Looking at the author's note in the back, it seems like Rio took this quirk from real-life grad students she knew at King's College. So while I don't doubt that some people do this, in a novel, it comes across less as realistic and more as pretentious. Maybe that's the point; after all, most of these characters aren't "good guys" and Oliver does say at one point that the school felt like a cult. But for me, I couldn't quite determine if Rio was deliberately creating a pretentious atmosphere to heighten the Dark Academic mood or if she was simply showing off her knowledge of Shakespeare's works. Either way, I felt the quotes a bit over-used and would have preferred if they were sprinkled in less liberally.

Overall, though, I did like the pace and the ease at which I could move through the novel. I was able to read this book fairly quickly, and things were straightforward enough that I never felt confused or lost.

Characters: There are a number of characters in this book, but I'm going to focus on the 7 protagonists, just to keep things brief (ish).

Plot: The plot of this book follows fourth-year theater student Oliver Marks as he and his classmates defend themselves from a bully while putting on Julius Caesar at their exclusive, elite arts school. (Obviously, it's a little more complicated than that, but I'm trying to avoid major spoilers).

This book is strongest in the second half when all the students grow more and more tormented by their actions and begin fracturing. Rio does a fairly good job of showing how characters began acting irrationally, and in a lot of ways, their descent mirrors some of Shakespeare's works.

I also thing the devastation of the end worked out well, and it was heightened by the emotional tension between Oliver and James. I do want to caution readers that if you're sensitive to the depiction of deaths of queer characters, you should skip this book. But personally, I found it somewhat fitting given the subject matter and the thematic connections to Shakespeare's works.

The main part of the plot that I didn't think flowed well was the beginning. The beginning was a little awkward in that Rio spoon feeds us a lot of information: characters narrate their family situations one after another, like Rio just wanted to get it out of the way. On top of that, there is a scene where one of the instructors interrogates a student until they disclose their greatest strength and greatest insecurity. To me, this seemed a lazy way to communicate characterization, and it almost soured me on the rest of the novel.

As a unit, I really did like the idea of these 7 characters essentially standing in for archetypes. I think it meshed with the themes of the book fairly well, and I liked the easy companionship that a lot of them had. I also liked that their relationships were often messy, especially during the second half of the book; it made them more interesting and when they began to break down, it felt all the more chaotic.

As individuals, however, I think things get a little murky.

Oliver, our narrator, is somewhat of a blank slate in that he doesn't seem to have a very defined personality, but maybe that's the point. He's stereotyped as the "support" or even the "nice guy," and there were times when I could see that shine through. He does seem to care about his friends and does admit to being naive, so I don't want to give the impression that he's entirely without merit. The main thing I didn't like about him was his attitude towards his sister, who has an eating disorder. He's not very considerate of her, and while I can understand being upset that his future at school is financially threatened by her, he snaps at her and says some pretty awful things. He also seems to characterize his family as awful, and while I understand the negativity there, compared to other characters, he has somewhat of a normal suburban middle class family. His whining about them, then, felt entitled.

James, Oliver's roommate and best friend, is stereotyped as a heroic figure, and I could see some of that come out in his actions. What I liked most about James, however, was his relationship with Oliver; the two are best friends, but there are times when their closeness tipped over into homoerotic and romantic intimacy. I enjoyed the tension there, and it did make for a more devastating ending.

Meredith, who is figured as the temptress, could have been written with a little more grace. While I think it's ok that Meredith exists as a sexual woman who is anxious about people overlooking her as a person, it also seems like the narrative does just that, at least until the midpoint of the novel. I very much did not appreciate the misogynistic comments thrown her way, even if they were partially in jest. Her character grew on me more in the second half, though, so she wasn't all bad.

Wren and Philippa are a little harder to define. Wren, I think, is supposed to be the ingenue, but it was hard to see that in the way she was written. Philippa is described as someone who is always overlooked, and I think parts of the narrative do a good job of showing moments when she has a great impact. As individual characters, however, I felt like there wasn't much to distinguish them.

Alexander is a character who is always typecast as (I think) a fool, and off stage, he seems to be mainly defined by his excessive smoking, drinking, and gay sexuality. I didn't quite know how to react to him, in part because his hedonism felt repetitive, but his drug use in the second half made some sense, given all that was going on.

Richard, the "bully," was interesting in that he was simultaneously loved and hated. I liked that the other characters had a complex relationship with him; they agreed he was a phenomenal actor but also loathed his ego. They see him as part of their group and as a friend, but also frequently argue with him. Having this complexity meant that I couldn't quite see him purely as an antagonist, and I like living in that delicious grey area.

TL;DR: If We Were Villains suffers from a few missteps (mainly prose and some characterization), but is rescued by the deft handling of a friend group's ultimate descent into madness. While I think Rio could have done some things to reduce the appearance of pretense and more solidly set up the exposition of the novel, this was a fairly solid debut that delivered an emotional punch towards the end.

[eulcgizeme]

eulcgizeme's new soundtrack for plots aka its 1989 release day and blondie popped off

I tried to do all of the songs, but then I wasn't getting bored so these are plots I really wanna do that can be brand new, or a new AU/Thread for existing pairings. They're also a plug for plots I've been talking about all week, lol. Give this a like and I'll come to you. All of these could end in burning flames or paradise. Anything with a link I will actually get on my knees for. I have some suggested characters in there for a couple of them.

WELCOME TO NEW YORK : Someone's small town best friend or long distance partner finally moves to the Big Apple to live together. It's all shiny and new but they do blind them. It turns out that they were never meant for a small town, and the one who was desperate to get out who's suddenly losing their place to them.

BLANK SPACE : A matchmaker gets paired with a Fortune 500's heir to clean up their act. The thing is they've got a roster for ex-lovers and reckless behavior. They learn about each other's victories and scars, and the matchmaker falls for them. This is most definitely for my muse, Acelin Reids (Barry Keoghan FC).

STYLE : The classic corruption trope, but twist it. Bonnie and Clyde aren't lovers, but instead two people at the wrong place at the wrong time. They escape together and have to figure out how to survive it. In an attempt to blend in and put the money that nearly cost them their lives worth it, their newfound company might not be so bad.

OUT OF THE WOODS : Holiday season comes in full swing for a couple that had slowly broken up. It's time to come home for the holidays, and its becomes apparent that they've broken up but they haven't told anyone. They decide to go home and pretend they're still together, only to fall for each other all over again. The trouble is that in their hometown they become different people, but they can't tell if they've been faking it the entire winter break or faking it ever since they moved away to fit in.

SHAKE IT OFF : Muse A is famous and getting ripped apart by the media, and their number one offender is Muse B. A scandal leaves Muse A's reputation in the hands of the other, and Muse B reveals that the only reason they've been able to rip them apart is because they're far from authentic. An enemy becomes a teacher on how to be fearless.

I WISH YOU WOULD : An old flame reunites when they crash into each other on a trip in Europe, and they become each other's company on what was suppose to be a solo trip. A summer fling turns cruel real' quick, and one begs them to do everything they promised they wouldn't to just be able to keep them around long enough to have the greatest love of their life even if it breaks them. Muse A can't commit and can't submit, and Muse B falls head over heels and tells them to treat them the way they're so scared to if it means they can have real love just once even if it's short.

BAD BLOOD : A couple divorced in their youth, and they find themselves years later at a gala as the hottest divorcee of two neighboring towns. Turns out infidelity wasn't just a one time offense. Yet, their former love is now clearly defined with their boundaries. One night can't hurt.. and then neither can another... and what if we got married again?

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL : Standing at her door at 3 AM in the pouring rain, shivering, after a six month break that should ended things... just to say "It's been a while" and give her the grand gesture she said would make or break your relationship.

THIS LOVE : This love came back from the grave when a former lover was resurrected. Muse A has to set limits on Muse B to help them live the life they took from them as they played a hand in their death, but they can't tell them they're just a ghost. They have to tell them, but will they come back to them? This is definitely a plug for Dorian Sykes (DOB FC).

NEW ROMANTICS : Enemies to lovers, but make it fun when they have to pretend to be a couple head over heels for the other for the sake of one shared goal. The only problem? When Muse A leans close and pressed their knee between their legs, they can't seem to pay attention anymore. When Muse B moves their hair that way, they can't help but look at the way their shirt lifts up and their collar bones are suddenly on display. Hate turns to lust, and it burns bright.

SAY DON'T GO : Set the scene when Muse A doesn't say "don't go"— and Muse B complies, staying away but they keep running into each other at their old haunts. Muse B belongs to them, but Muse A isn't theirs as Muse B already moved on even if it's serious. Hands brush in the dark in clubs, shoulders bump into each other in the same apartment hallway and they sometimes meet up only for one to leave in the middle of the night. Finally, Muse B tells them to say it and damns them for making them want so bad but gives them nothing at all in return.

NOW THAT WE DON'T TALK : Give me the bitter aftermath of platonic love. One pays the price of what they lost, and Muse A tells them that they can't be friends anymore.

SUBURBAN LEGENDS : And Muse A kissed in a way that was gonna screw Muse B up forever, and it does. They're trying to not think much about it but they're falling for them hard and they can't pretend like it's nothing, The girls and the guys can't be friends because Muse A puts the stars in the sky, and they won't go beyond kissing in a crowded room where everyone else laughs and Muse B dies a little inside. They decide to spare them the pain of it meaning nothing, they ruin the relationship all together so they're not even friends. It's only at the thought of losing Muse B, that Muse A realizes they can't live without them, can they?

IS IT OVER NOW? : The platonic couple breaks up, but they didn't really talk about it. Some how, they ended up on the other side the room every time they were together— alone or with friends. On a boat with their rich friends on Rhode Island, they don't stay in the same cabin. Someone's taking off her blue blouse, and someone lies in her couch and he doesn't lie in the bed. They run into each other in the hallway and they can't help but think if the other did it even if they have no leg to stand on if they did or not. They have to ask, is it over?

IS IT OVER NOW? PART TWO: Two best friends who were almost something more get torn apart by a friend group that splits them apart, pulling them out of their comfort zone with each other and pushing them back. She stands on a table to get his attention at a party, but it does nothing. He doesn't take in her hips and thighs like all she is, so she jumps off a very-tall-something vintage table so he catches her. Literally. Let's say they have some champagne problems

[thepapergirlandthespiegelman]

Sometimes I feel like I'm the only person in the world who still remembers and loves CDs. Vinyl records have made a comeback and are now considered cool among certain varieties of hipster and audiophile, but CDs haven't had the same treatment.

And like, to some extent, I kinda understand that. CDs aren't cool. Records are cool. They're big and textured and elegant and they're objectively old enough to feel vintage rather than dated. They're not exactly durable but they make up for their fragility with their other positive qualities, and you could certainly argue that warping and scratches add exactly the kind of character to a record that we've lost with digital music and therefore crave from physical media. A slightly damaged CD pretty much always just becomes totally unplayable.

So I get it. And I'll readily admit that the biggest reason why I like CDs is simply that I grew up with them and have fond memories of them. But I do also think it's objectively true that there are certain positive features unique to CDs. I will never tire of the experience of giving and receiving mix CDs. You can't do that with a record. (I mean, I don't think you can? Not easily, at any rate.) And it's not the same as a playlist! It's not the same. When you make a mix CD, you not only curate the music for the recipient, you burn the disc, you decorate it, you make the sleeve or pick the jewel case and make the paper insert for it, figure out how to wrap/package it. I mean, obviously you don't have to do all of these things, but the opportunity is there for a lot of creativity and love. And in the end the person gets both the physical object as well as being able to make digital copies of the songs on their computer (which also allows them to use those songs in their future mix CDs, continuing the cycle!).

The mix CD is just so unpretentious, wholesome, and kind. It gave the average person unprecedented power over how music was curated and shared. (I mean, of course mix tapes did something similar, and maybe they deserve more credit than I give them, simply because they're from before my time; but I kind of have to assume that CD mixing is a much simpler and more efficient process.) The mix CD creates a loving context for experiencing music. Here, I made this! Special from me, for you! I think context is one of the things which we most desperately miss in this modern age, where we're fed our newest songs by the goddamn algorithm (whether that's Spotify, TikTok, YouTube, or whatever). The mix CD is personal, human, earnest and sweet.

(And yes, to some extent, playlists do this as well, and they have their own advantages. But I think the shareability of playlists, while making it possible for many more people to experience your creation, has ended up discouraging the intimate act of making something just for one other person and instead promotes the idea that what is most desirable is to have your work seen by the greatest possible number of people.)

I started thinking about this because I saw another post talking about the removal of CD/DVD drives from computers and it really does make me sad thinking that this may be the final nail in the coffin of the mix CD. I've had to depend on external disc drives to make my mixes, and I'm sure that for most people, CDs have passed totally out of their awareness.

I'm not saying the mix CD is the end all be all of sharing music. There are already lots of other ways to share music and I would quite like to think that we will continue to invent new ways. But I do find it very sad that the art of the mix CD is dying, and while the mix CD itself may be doomed, I really hope that we don't forget its virtues, and find a way to keep the spirit of the thing alive. Physical object as well as digital copies that can be shared with others, permanent ownership of the music (rather than just streaming/renting), the burning and reading of this object being cheap and accessible, personal touch/high customizability (not being limited simply to song order, a single cover image, and a short description), intimacy. These are what I don't want to lose.

[cptn-m]

One Piece chapter 1111 review

Last one going into another long break. Potentially but not definitely the end of volume 109. And I think a shift into the final bit of action for the Egghead Arc. While I'm disappointed to have to go three weeks without, I definitely prefer Oda getting the downtime he needs to carry the story through to its end inn the best way possible. And the phrase "scheduled maintenance" in the announcement makes me think this is going to end up being an annual thing, which at least means it won't be a surprise in future years.

We do at least get some gorgeous colour pages for a send-off. The classic piratey vibe of the Jump cover has a whole lot of appeal while the colour spread has some gorgeous lighting for Copic work. The transparency on the jellyfish is stunning. There's cute symbolism in giving Kuma a seahorse shirt, perfect for the series' most dedicated single dad. Bonney and Vegapunk getting to be included is also a good touch, Always nice when current arc characters get to hang out with the crew on these things. I also really like the One Piece logo down the bottom with the jellyfish top and tentacles around the O.

Mars breaks inside the barrier. I initially thought he'd was rebuffed by the lasers last week, but I should have known he'd be able to use his immortality to power through undaunted. And that makes the situation really bad for the crew.

The apparent lack of concern the Strawhats have for Vegapunk's broadcast is interesting. I actually had to go back and double check if they even knew it was happening at all. They do, but it still doesn't really seem to concern them. Escape has become the most important thing, and though I'm sure they'd stand and fight if one of the surviving Vegapunks said it was their greatest dream and the Stella's dying wish to make sure it goes through, but even they seem to be putting their lives first. It's actually kind of funny the number of people complaining last week about Oda using the 'ticking clock' trope in yet another arc, only for the crew to just outright ignore it and continue with their original plan of escaping. All this plus the escape map to lay out the distances and groups involved paint a picture of how the final stage of the arc is likely to play out.

This is an interesting chapter for Lucci. Obviously a commanding show of strength to stay standing after Zoro's big hit and then to remain conscious and clear-headed after Jinbei's subsequent blast, but also to call Kaku his partner and beg for his life to the ultimate authority of the Five Elders. Remember, in Lucci's eyes 'gods are not bound by logic' and 'it is the natural order for gods to have whatever they desire' (chapter 907). He also showed an extreme callousness toward any team member he thought wasn't performing up to par at Water Seven, like the potentially now-dead Nero. To make the request at all, to a man whose desires and whims have complete priority, speaks to a kind of camaraderie I never would have figured he had in him. At some point I'll have to go back over Water Seven properly and see if there's anything that can be interpreted differently with this side of him in mind.

Lucci also looks absolutely terrified when Mars appears, but he immediately recognises the Elder even in his monstrous form and doesn't hesitate to obey. We were told before that anyone below the rank of commodore can't even meet them, but it wasn't clear how much of a secret their specific powers were. York's reaction at the end of the chapter shows that she wasn't aware of the demon forms, despite the Vegapunks having had audiences with the Elders.

The Haki roar is a cool show of power. I'm looking forward to learning more about the limits of the physical effects of Conqueror's Haki and how much they can be controlled. I also loved the visual gag of all of Luffy's stuff blowing off, seeing him stick his scars back on. Amazing comic instincts on that one.

I think one of the big important things to remember for Luffy's characterisation in this chapter is the way the giants talk both with him and about him to Warcurcy. They say that he looks like the god they've heard tales of, but when Warcury asks who Luffy is to them, the only important part is that Luffy is their friend. And we learn concretely that it wasn't even the Nika appearance that inspired them to come intervene, they just saw that he seemed like he was in trouble in a place they were close enough to. Luffy isn't the messiah of the giants (at least not yet), just a guy who makes the right friends.

I try not to dwell on spoilers without the full story, but they definitely coloured my perception of this chapter's baseball bat gag. When I read that Luffy 'conjures' a bat, I was extremely worried. I have raged against the perception that Luffy's new power is literal imagination and that he can magic things into existence or warp reality in any tangible way. I would not want that to be the way the story progresses. Imagine my relief when the outcome is only as absurd as turning a palm tree into a bat with his teeth. I could take or leave the paint and hat. They only interact with Luffy himself and are gone in less than a page, so I can take them as part of the bit. The paint in particular is funny because to leaves the bat looking exactly the same as if it had a layer of Armament Haki (at least as far as Haki is portrayed to the readers). That's like the one part Luffy could have just manifested through willpower and he finds paint instead.

I expected more emphasis to be placed on Ju Peter's revival, but he's just kind of there after the explosion. Do we think the original head reattached to his body, or did he grow a new one? Maybe Oda's saving that reveal for later, when we go further into what the Elders really are.

As much as I want to see Franky get some action, I think the three vice admirals are setting up a Kuma moment, probably his big finale for the arc, whether it's a full awakening or death, or taking his daughter and teleporting away. Borsalino seems to be out for good, understandably overwhelmed by his emotional distress. I wonder if there'll be a tangible difference in the next fight against him, if it happens in a scenario where his heart can truly be in it. And then the robot, with that big, important Joyboy connection promising big things to come. I wonder, if the Strawhats are being characterised as unconcerned with Vegapunk's broadcast, if the robot will then be the force that makes sure it plays in full. Or is there some kind of twist coming about the broadcast's source that we haven't considered yet. Mars asks York about the room Vegapunk is in, as if he thinks the broadcast is actually live. Saturn only said to the other Elders that he thinks Borsalino killed Vegapunk, so they may be operating on the assumption he's somewhere else, especially if the technology to record and repeat a message via snails is not widespread.

But these are questions for three weeks from now. Meantime, I hope Oda enjoys his rest and processes everything he needs to process about Toriyama and comes back to the series refreshed for the home stretch of the arc.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

If you ever wanted to see the free market work in real time you should pay attention to what's going on in MMA right now.

Short(ish) version: The UFC is the biggest MMA company in the world and it's where every fighter dreams of ending up. For years, it was the only real game in town, especially after it bought PRIDE and Strikeforce, its two biggest competitors (at one time PRIDE was the biggest MMA promotion in the world until Yakuza scandals led to it getting purchased in 2008 by the UFC). The thing about the UFC though, is that most fighters are paid like shit. This isn't the NFL or the NBA where everyone who gets into the league makes millions. Most people barely make enough to cover their training camps unless they get a win bonus or a performance bonus. Even some champions and people who have been in the top 5 rankings and have huge name value aren't getting paid nearly what they're worth. That's because they get roped into signing contracts for multiple fights when they're not as big or high ranked for low money, but that initial number never changes until their contract comes up. And if you don't take the new deal the UFC offers you, they'll often sit on your contract for years while never booking you for a fight, or offering you fights that you'll never accept or that are designed to punish you and make you look terrible and tank your name value (for that last, look at the Nate Diaz vs Khamzat Chimaev debacle).

So what happens when a fighter is being paid far below what he's worth and can't get out of his contract? Usually, aside from a few big names that manage to escape, or older guys the UFC thinks it can't make money on anymore, they'll eventually resign with the UFC. Because the UFC has sold itself as being the only game in town and most people just want to get paid and support their families even if they're only getting half of what they're really worth.

But over the last few years, fighters are starting to figure out that isn't true.

Bellator, the second biggest MMA promotion in the west, has made some very highly publicized signings of big name talent, including Cris Cyborg (arguably the greatest female MMA fighter ever), and they've retained some great young homegrown talent who, 5 years ago, would have jumped at the chance to show up on the prelims of a Fight Night in the UFC. Part of the success Bellator has been having is because of their yearly tournaments, where the winner not only wins the championship, but also a million dollars. The PFL has shockingly been successful, offering up a unique season format where fighters fight in a year long season, playoffs, finals system for the chance to win a million dollars at the end of the year. They're also starting up a superfight division to showcase special talent who, for whatever reason, don't want to do the season format. In Asia, One Championship is making inroads into the western market as well and signing some big names both in Asia and in the west. They also offer more variety in their fights, putting on Muay Thai, kickboxing, grappling, and other forms of combat sports alongside MMA. And in Japan, Rizin is starting to finally get some notice with its unprecedented crossover events with Bellator. All of these promotions have western broadcast deals. Bellator with Showtime, PFL with ESPN, One with Amazon Prime, and Rizin with Fite TV. They all have the money and the backing to make a run at the UFC's throne, and they're all willing to pay that money to the fighters to do it.

(There's also Bare Knuckle Fighting Championship which has been massively successful and a whole new option for MMA fighters to make money, but I want to focus specifically on MMA right now and not bare knuckle boxing)

And fighters are starting to realize this. Big names are going to these promotions, making money, and telling everybody about it. They're getting opportunities that UFC fighters never get, like fighting fighters from rival promotions, or taking fights outside of MMA, or sponsorship deals (oh yeah the UFC stopped allowing their fighters to be sponsored by anyone other than the one (1) sponsor the UFC signs a deal with years ago). And in the years to come, you're only going to see more top name fighters in their prime either jumping ship or skipping the UFC all together.

(Keep an eye on where Francis Ngannou ends up)

But my point here is this:

This is how the free market works. A lot of fighters are talking about a fighters union to solve their UFC problems, but that would only be a huge step backwards for fighters who want to take control of their careers. By being smart and using your skills and your name as a bargaining chip, by knowing that there are better options than just staying with the UFC until they decide they're done with you, you can see real success in your career without signing your soul over to the UFC or a union. It is literally happening all around you right now. Fighters are getting paid more, getting paid more younger, and getting opportunities that the UFC will never offer them. Every single major MMA organization in the world is trying to expand at the same time. There are opportunities everywhere. You only need to look and be willing to bet on yourself instead of seeing that UFC logo at the top of your contract to fight for pennies and being blinded by dreams of being the next Conor MacGregor.

The free market works. The free market is the only way to achieve true success as an individual and not as a cog in someone elses machine. And best of all, the free market doesn't discriminate. It's there for you to use, no matter who you are. So use it.

[schismusic]

On abandonment, Lou X, the eternal recurrence of the same

Browsing through the people I follow (and my followers) I can't help but notice just how many of these blogs haven't been updated in literal years. That line Diane Venora has in Michael Mann's Heat comes to mind: "you live among the remains of dead people…".

The idea of neglect and disuse is a weird thing to me, in that I never registered it as an inherently negative thing - it's melancholic, sure, but not everything needs to keep being active and productive. In unrelated news I'm listening to Lou X as we speak, go figure. For my international followers, Lou X is a rapper from Pescara who made his last full record in 1998. It is called La Realtà, la Lealtà e lo Scontro and you could call it a conscious/gangsta rap record in Italian/Abruzzese dialect. Then he basically went off the radar except for maybe one feature or two on other people's songs and albums.

If you think about it Italy's greatest contributions to the culture of the past century mostly involve objects that either don't exist, are somehow crystallized into unserviceable forms, were abandoned years ago and have reached an absolutely dismal state that could only make them interesting as a work of art. Think about it: Neorealism in cinema (and maybe even the Realists' interest in decrepit/disadvantages rural realities, but that would be an overarching nineteenth-century European thing), Ennio Flaiano's Tempo di uccidere, the last writings of Cesare Pavese ("Tutto questo fa schifo. Non parole. Un gesto. Non scriverò più": what else here but the defeated realisation that nothing could ever change?), Italo Calvino's Le città invisibili, Luigi Ghirri's landscape photography work, CCCP and CSI even.

Europe is doomed to its binary division and therefore we are of course doomed to repeat stylings and "revolutionary" aesthetics in never-ending loops: Disciplinatha were smart enough to point it out, but like Whitehouse said: "grubbing job-hunting artists and art aficionados who prefer art that 'raises questions' are certainly as disgusting as those rubbered dilettantes who recognize that the answers are what you masturbate over". Whitehouse also had this to say, in the same context: "So better to just shut your fucking mouth".

Obviously mentioning a rapper from Abruzzo has implications for those of you who know anything about me. God knows there are very few places as left to their own devices as that region of Italy, and considering my violently antihumanist views regarding the Abruzzese people I'm inclined to say that the only reason this abandon should end is just so I can no longer hear these motherfuckers bitch and moan about nobody giving a shit about them or something. It's no big deal to be fair - people think Abruzzo is further down South than Rome is because it was added into the monetary help program for the South of Italy at the end of World War II. The Abruzzese people who have voted for Matteo Salvini in the past seem to have conveniently forgotten that if it didn't mean more votes to him, they would be seen as cannon fodder at best and shit under his feet at worst.

When the Amatrice earthquake hit in 2016 we knew that would be the end of the very little good things we had managed to get back after L'Aquila in 2009: the small towns in the province, which is unreasonably fucking big in L'Aquila's case but honestly what are we going to do, make Sulmona or Avezzano their own province like assholes?, anyway I'm getting distracted - my point being everything went even further to shit when that happened. A lot of the old people, some of whom not as old as you would expect, died in consequence to the quakes or went further down into some form of (if I had to guess) trauma-induced dementia. Happens even to the best of us - then, you can imagine how easily it happens to the average Abruzzese. I was setting up another band with some kids and if we had our way, honestly, I believe there would be no NUMBERS, simply because I had found people who really got me, in the typically effortless way that teens bonding through activities do, and I do believe I got them, too. When I meet them now, and I never meet them together because one of the two guys can no longer come to town now, it feels like I'm on a completely different wavelength. Yet I refuse to let go, because in true Abruzzese fashion I never fucking learn. We did manage to get a record out, though. Its only tangible effect was, likely, to stop NUMBERS and the Operators from playing the La Zona d'Ombra festival at Bronson, in Ravenna. Here in the future, everyone has their fifteen seconds of fame.

In relating to the theme of this post, I cannot seem to let go of this fucking post. I have been writing in circles for literal hours at this point because the idea of abandonment ultimately scares me, disproving what I said at the beginning. It's no surprise that the only things I can think of when they suggest to me the idea of abandonment are Burial, Forest Swords, Techno Animal, maybe some ambient music. No point in trying to prove at all costs that "I'm different" or that "I have something fundamental to say about it".

So better to just shut my fucking mouth.

[twistedtummies2]

Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes - Number 31

Welcome to A Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes! During this month-long event, I’ll be counting my Top 31 Favorite Fictional Detectives, from movies, television, literature, video games, and more!

Today, the countdown begins in earnest!

SLEUTH-OF-THE-DAY’S QUOTE: “Be careful, Brain! Those are probably priceless fake artifacts!”

Number 31 is…Inspector Gadget.

Not every detective on this countdown has to be a GOOD detective. They just have to conform to the rules and regulations I established, and…well…be a detective, in general. While most of the sleuths on this countdown WILL be relatively serious characters – which is to say, they’ll actually be good at their jobs, no matter how silly they at first appear – there are a couple that will fall into the “Bungling Detective” trope. These are comical, parodical characters who are decidedly NOT good at their jobs. Most of them are, weirdly enough, given the title of “Inspector,” which really makes you wonder how terrible the law enforcement offices in these universes must be.

Out of all the bumblers and baboons who wear an inspector’s badge, I think many would agree with me that Inspector Gadget is quite possibly the single most dunderheaded lout of the entire bunch. In terms of sheer ability, Gadget is arguably the single worst detective of all time. This character is SUCH a goofy loser, that I actually had a couple of people outright telling me, when I told them about this concept, that he shouldn’t be included. HE’S. THAT. BAD. So why IS he on the list, after all? Well…like I said, competency isn’t really an issue here, and I do have a big nostalgic soft spot for the (not so) good Inspector, so he gets a pass at the end of the day.

For those who don’t know, “Inspector Gadget” was a 1980s cartoon series, which focused on the adventures of its titular character: a clumsy and dimwitted cyborg, who was part of an elite group of law enforcement agents. The organization’s goal is to take down a mysterious mad scientist, Dr. Claw: the leader of an evil gang of international felons known as M.A.D. Gadget would be sent out on missions to defeat Claw and his minions…and he would always louse it up, because Gadget is a complete moron. This was the great, humorous conceit of the series: Gadget is a bionically enhanced living superweapon, with all kinds of gizmos at his disposal…but the combination of him having two left feet and only half of a brain cell ultimately renders all that power thoroughly worthless. He’s too busy tripping over his own “Go-Go Gadget Oil Slick!” to have any HOPE of catching the perpetrators or solving any mystery thrust before him.

Ironically, it’s Gadget’s sidekicks who end up being the REAL saviors of every episode. One was the Inspector’s own niece: a precocious and cheerful young girl named Penny. While she loves and looks up to her uncle, Penny is actually a MUCH better detective than he is with far less high-tech gear (and a significant age gap). It’s usually she who ends up TRULY figuring out the case and finding a way to stop Claw and his cronies. Brain, meanwhile, was their talking, bipedal pet dog (don’t question it, I’m not going to). While Penny was cracking the case, this poor mutt spent most of his time making sure that Gadget didn’t get himself killed, with much slapstick buffoonery happening as a result.

While everyone pretty universally agrees that Inspector Gadget, himself, is a complete and total clod, the show and the character turned out to be extremely popular. The series not only sold a boatload of merchandise, but gave way to a Christmas special, two (terrible) live-action films, and even a recent Netflix reboot (which I haven’t seen). He may not have been a truly great gumshoe in the sense of…well…actually being a great gumshoe, but as one of the most wonderfully silly sleuths to ever sweep across the small screen, Inspector Gadget has definitely made his mark. “Go-Go Gadget Legacy!”

Tomorrow, the countdown continues with Number 30!

CLUE: “Your vast corrupt future is draining away as we speak.”

[lorei-writes]

Trials and Tribulations of an Unconsenting Time-Traveller

Part 19: [To throw] beans against the wall

OC x Mitsuhide Interactive Previous Parts: Masterlist Ending: Good OR Bad

Oh, my, my. The first 5-ish chapters really could use some editing. Err... Maybe even re-writing. And some parts of later chapters. It's all a bit of a train wreck situation overall.

Maybe I shall once we've finished? Who knows, who knows. This story has started long ago, after all. It's all only natural.

Content Warnings: none

Maria sat back on her heels, Mitsuhide watching her carefully from the end of the corridor. Her brows furrowed, what she assumed to be a sort of uncertain worry flickering over his face before he reigned the emotion in. He walked up to her slowly. “I must ask you to follow me, little mouse.”

Guide:

Each chapter you will be presented with a choice(s) which will influence the story - a question(s) at the very bottom of the post. Two answers to it are mine, the third one - is completely up to you. You can add your vote by putting one of the options in the reblog / comment below the chapter.

Before I get to writing the next part, I will count up all the votes. The option the story will follow will be either the one with the greatest number of votes, or the one suggested completely by you (depending on which is more inspiring). If no votes appear, I will simply go by my own choice. There is no set time limit of voting - as long as the next part hasn’t been released, assume it’s still okay to vote.

Characters in this story are assumed to be speaking few different languages. The following is assumed: normal dialogue notation = Japanese; dialogue written in italics = English. Any phrases not written in English will be put in the dictionary at the bottom of the work.

[Rzucać] grochem o ścianę = [To throw] beans against the wall

Back and forth, forth and back, there was little more to the motion, the grime seemingly refusing to leave the creaks between the boards whenever Maria put less than all of her force into her arms. Despite that, there was certain solace to be found in the mindlessness of the activity, the pain in her knees and lower back allowing for her to forget of the events of the morning, even if just for a little while. Another time-traveller? She reigned in her thoughts before they broke into a rush. No. She didn’t need that. A strand of hair escaping from its place in the braid (surely, she would have done a better job, had her hands not trembled so much when she readied herself to do the chores), she hurriedly pushed it back behind her ear, the momentary distraction drawing her attention towards the figure standing nearby. Maria sat back on her heels, Mitsuhide watching her carefully from the end of the corridor. Her brows furrowed, what she assumed to be a sort of uncertain worry flickering over his face before he reigned the emotion in. He walked up to her slowly.

“I must ask you to follow me, little mouse.”

“Has something happened?” she asked, shaking the brush held in her hands.

“It is urgent,” he stated, and simply passed by her, reluctant to offer any further explanations. Dumbfounded, Maria shot up, nearly tripping over the basin of water she used to clean the floor with.

“You’d be smart to stay quiet,” he added, thus prompting her to jog after him.

Regardless of the opinion people held of Mitsuhide, Maria viewed him as a rather kind, although secretive person. Surely, he was not nice, and he enjoyed tricking her, and he was always plotting something… Yet still, she could not convince herself there were any ill intentions at the bottom of this all. That being said, she did not understand the situation in the slightest, the both of them soon leaving the Azuchi castle behind.

“Where are we going?” she asked. They walked at a faster than comfortable pace, but Mitsuhide did not slow down. He hadn’t spared her even a glance, instead leading her through the narrower of the streets, the entire layout of the city getting tangled inside of her head… All for them to eventually arrive at his manor. Maria frowned, but he quieted her before she even opened her mouth, the last digit of his finger guarding his lips as he let out a quiet ‘shh’.

The entirety of his manor was dark, not a soul having stayed behind to tend to the estate. Completely lost on the ‘why’ of things, Maria resigned to follow him, her trust in Mitsuhide – oddly enough – refusing to falter. The corridors seemed much too long, and she was nearly certain he had played with her again, for the room he wished for them to stop at was not more, not less, but his study. Maria frowned (again), but when he pointed at the table, she sat by it just regardless. Mitsuhide lit up a candle and set it in front of her.

“Can you tell me now?” she grumbled.

“My, my. Are you not an impatient little mouse… Or perhaps I have lost your full trust?” he wondered aloud, his back turned towards her as he searched for something within a sizeable wardrobe.

“No. But I want to understand.”

Mitsuhide froze for a moment. He seemed to consider something before facing her again, the bag she arrived with in the past clutched in his hands.

“Explain it,” he demanded while seating himself opposite of her. He turned the bag upside-down, her belongings falling onto the table – her phone (with its completely drained battery), an MP3 player, a pair of earbuds, her wallet, passport, a guidebook, a pair of sunglasses, chapstick, tissues, a map, some hard candy, a bottle of hand-sanitizer, and several other items all rolling around. Maria felt her throat drying up, her eyes growing wide.

“You won’t believe me,” she stuttered. Her head hung low, and just as she always did whenever stressed, she clawed into her own lap, thoughts swirling inside of her head having her heart pound.

“Do try.”

“I… I am not from now,” she hesitated. Her thighs hurt, but she didn’t mind. It provided a pleasant distraction from the anxiety she felt at the moment. Honestly, it was similar to having to take an oral exam on a subject she was not too knowledgeable about, but a hundred, no, thousand times worse. “But from… Tomorrow… But a hundreds… Thousands… Tens of thousands more.”

“Future?” Mitsuhide offered, his eyes scrutinising her. However, he didn’t seem to wish to rush her.

“Future.” Maria nodded slowly. “I… I was on a trip. There was a storm. I don’t know why, but then I woke up, and the building was on fire. Then I thought you were actors… But you aren’t. And this is the past,” she mumbled, her voice growing quieter with each word. She couldn’t explain it any better, nor did she believe for the reality to be real up until fairly recently. She couldn’t expect for him to accept it… Yet he did not seem to argue against her. Instead, Mitsuhide reached for her earbuds, his gaze sliding alongside the wire before he coiled it around his finger.

“What are those for?”

“You use them to listen to music.”

“How?”

Maria frowned. Her phone was dead, so clearly, it was no use. However… The same couldn’t be said about the MP3 player. It was a beast of a device, and the battery worked on months for end when it was not in use, so perhaps… She pressed the “Menu” button. The screen lit up.

“Give it to me,” she asked, and he obliged. Maria plugged the earbuds in, and handed one back to him. She put hers into her ear, Mitsuhide looking at her questioningly.

“Do it…?” she squeaked… And although reluctantly, he did follow her instructions.

Now, the real struggle arose. What song should she pick? In the end, it shouldn’t matter much, yet… Maria swallowed her indecisiveness and pressed play, the track starting just as intended.

His eyes widened. At first, Mitsuhide did not register the fact that the singer’s voice came from the device in his ear, and so, he threw a series of fast glances all around, the earbud falling out in the process. Only then did he realise it was the source of the voice, the place the odd instruments played at. Without uttering a word, he put it back in. Not only did the words sung in it made no sense to him, he could not understand what material was it all made from, how could it fit so many things, how –

Maria changed the track, another artist beginning their performance. And another one. Another… Mitsuhide reached over the table and placed his hand on top of hers. Maria pressed pause.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“No. How does this work? How does it fit…?”

“It doesn’t. In the future… We tamed lightning? We have many little machines. We save sound like this. Books are cheap. We… We have boats that don’t need wind. Machines that translate languages. Machines that fly.”

“That fly?” he echoed after her.

“That fly.”

“How far?”

“Far.”

“How far?” he pressed further.

“From Europe to here.”

Mitsuhide sat quietly. It appeared that his curiosity had been satiated… Although perhaps that was not it. Perhaps it was only that things finally had connected in his head, that they had given the past few months some semblance of sense.

“Your times… They are peaceful, aren’t they?” he spoke after a long pause.

“Often. There are wars. And huge diseases.”

“Huge diseases?”

“The… The entire world diseases.”

Mitsuhide sat quietly again. Her heart pounded against her chest, each elapsed second having her wish she could decipher his expression.

“Why ask now?” she blurted out.

“The ninja you have caught this morning. He has told me a very similar tale. It was hard to believe it, although since you have confirmed it… And since I cannot dispute the fact we do have not musicians in,” he paused and half-heartedly pointed at the MP3 player, “tiny boxes, I suppose.” Mitsuhide raised his gaze from the object up to her face. “Maria, although you are considered to be loyal to lord Nobunaga, some of his vassals remain suspicious of you. You must understand that today’s incident did not play in your favour.”

“But I –”

“Do not apply reason where it does not belong,” he interrupted. “I have suspected you may not be fully aware of your circumstances. Little mouse, your involvement with me, our little play, your eagerness to work as a maid, and now the enemy spy paying you a visit. In this world, there are people who ascend through trampling over others.”

“But I’m nobody,” Maria noted.

“Yet I am not.”

Maria tilted her head to the side, confused by the implications of his words. How come there was any connection to be made there? If anything, in the past months, she had spent more time being tutored by Ieyasu and Mitsunari, not to mentioned the self-defence lessons Masamune watched over. Mitsuhide clicked his tongue.

“Allow me to explain,” he sighed dejectedly. Somehow he still found himself stunned by her obliviousness, the sharpness she exhibited when adapting to the situation standing in direct contradiction to her understanding of humans as a whole… Although perhaps, that was Maria. A contradiction. “As of now, there are two fractions working behind the scenes. The first one spun the tale as follows: ‘Lord Akechi has been in close contact with the foreigner ever since her arrival. He has not only vouched on her behalf, but tutored her, and requested for her to join him on the mission. He has later presented her as his lover, and used her. But how has she learnt Japanese so fast? And how come an ordinary woman had enough grit and stealth to be a messenger? She has protected Lord Date, and has clearly earned his favour. She was injured, yet she does not seem shaken. She must have been in service of Lord Akechi all along. And now, she has contacted an enemy spy. They all must be traitors.’ ” Mitsuhide cleared his throat. “The second story is a less colourful one. It simply states: ‘Lord Akechi holds the foreign girl in a dear place in his heart. Were we to threaten her, he would comply with our demands’.”

Maria took the information in slowly, her face not revealing any of the emotion that passed through her. She nodded several times, the tiredness accumulated over the past few weeks finally catching up to her. She watched Mitsuhide, and he watched her in turn, amber eyes holding back some secrets she was not certain she was allowed to even ask about.

“Why are you telling me this all?” she probed.

“The ninja told me you can go back to your original time. I plan to escort you both to Kyoto.”

Her eyes burned – but not from tears, or anger, or sadness, or fear. They burned through him, the intensity of her stare having Mitsuhide shiver.

“I don’t want to,” she stated firmly.

“I am not asking whether you’d like to go, little one. I am telling you to,” Mitsuhide spoke in a voice barely louder than a whisper. He reached over the table, long fingers brushing against the strand of hair that has escaped from her braid. He guided it back behind her ear, the light of the candle cracking over the fresh uneven scar. His gaze faltered. It was his near-sightedness that led to her being hurt in the first place. He never wished to –

Mitsuhide tensed. Maria took his hand in hers, and held it to her scarred cheek, never once dropping his gaze.

“I want to stay. I like this life. I am better at speaking now, and I can read more. I am useful.”

“You may get hurt again.”

“I am fine with that.”

Mitsuhide retracted his hand.

“I took you along, so you wouldn’t be a nuisance among the soldiers.” It was only a half-truth. But it could keep her safe. “You made yourself a nuisance to me instead. I had to find you a task, even if only to keep you occupied. And now you refute the reality of things?”

“Exactly. I can always wash the floors.”

Mitsuhide did not let his composure slip. His eyes narrowed as he set them on breaking through her stubbornness, hot guilt simmering just below his ribs. He took note of the dark circles below her eyes. It wouldn’t take long. It couldn’t take long. Not when she was in this state.

“And if I made you wish you could return to your home?” He sat closer to her and held her chin up.

“You won’t.”

“How can you be certain?”

“You’re a kind man.”

Mitsuhide pushed her to the floor. His body hoovered above hers, but Maria didn’t protest. He pulled her collar open, but she didn’t stop him. He unravelled her obi. He pushed his knee between her legs. He wished, no, begged for her to resist him, to show him any sign of fear, so that he could cut this act short. However, she only smiled at him. It even reached those tired eyes of hers as she held her hands up to cup his face. Mitsuhide froze. Stubborn. Offensively stubborn.

“When we slept in one bed, you moved away in the morning not to poke me,” she giggled. Offensively bold as well. He felt his ears heat up – he’d be damned if they were not red. “Let me tell you my story. ‘I arrived in an unfamiliar place. I was taught the language. I was taught medicine. I was taken to a mission, but I was a fool all along. Lord Akechi tried to protect me. He took care of me, made up a task so that I wouldn’t mess up his plans. He wanted to keep me in the dark, so that I wouldn’t slip. But I have made mistakes. I am weak, so…’” she hesitated. “So…”

What should Maria say?

a. Use me as your pawn. b. I know I am a burden. c. Something else. (What?)

Dictionary

Rzucać grochem o ścianę – To throw beans against the wall; idiom -- to do something without it achieving any results; usually to try to explain something without it being understood by the listener

Tag list for the series: @bestbryn @xarexraven

[eleinwrites]

Fae-Blood Teal

1,000-word Writing Challenge: genre: fantasy; location: nail salon; object: night light

Summary: The past comes to visit a centuries-old draconic war hero who now runs a nail salon catering to the city-dwelling dragons. Not everything is what it seems.

=====  When the Lord of Earth and Sky, His Majesty, Ruler of all Dragons, stepped into Dak’s Nail Salon, it was only natural that the lights went out, leaving the shop dark but for the luminescence of that glorious figure and also from a novelty glow-in-the-dark nightlight that Dak kept at the reception desk, shaped like a sleepy dragon with a startled-looking fae on its back.

“You might want to work on your human form,” Dak told His Majesty. “Unless you intended to be disruptive, of course.”

The lights recovered, flickering back to full strength, masking His Majesty’s glow, but revealing his grimace. His Majesty hated not being the best at whatever he did, which helped him rule the dragons, but was a hindrance for learning new skills, like looking human.

“What are you doing here?” Dak asked His Majesty while they both ignored the other clients making hasty departures, manicures half-done.

Dak’s Nail Salon had been one of the first to cater to the relatively new community of city-dwelling dragons who stayed in human form, neglecting their purpose as dangerous predators destined to rule the skies and all below them.

The great rulers—of which His Majesty was currently the Greatest—had special servants to sharpen and polish their deadly claws.

The great warriors—among whom His Majesty numbered as well—sharpened their claws by raking them against stone and the bones of their enemies.

Dragons who weren’t great just chewed their claws into shape and called it good enough.

City-dwelling dragons—including Dak—trimmed their claws with the special obsidian blades necessary even in human form. City dwellers at nail salons also had their hands and feet massaged and got nail coloring as well, plating naturally black claws in gold or silver or more daringly scarlet or teal polish: scarlet like human blood or teal like fae blood.

Legends described Dakarth of the Forge as having claws that shone liquid teal with the blood of his enemies, never drying before it was renewed. The veracity of that was deeply suspect, not least because of the size differential between dragons and fae: an adult dragon wouldn’t dip claws in fae blood so much as awkwardly smear a bunch of fae against a claw. Plenty of dragons had killed fae by the hundreds, but it certainly hadn’t resulted in the smooth glossy finish of the Fae-Blood Teal that Dak was currently sporting.

“When I discovered my childhood companion had survived, even so diminished, I had to come see myself.”

“Well, here I am. And diminished seems a bit harsh.”

“Injured then. You didn’t need to hide. I would have guarded you under my wing.”

Dak sighed. “I know you would have. But I wanted to go out and see things.”

“Then I shall be glad that you have done so. But now I must warn you. The fae queen is up to something. I know not what, but we may need your skill if we are to face the swarms once more.”

The war between dragons and fae had ended in a negotiated peace after the fall of Dakarth of the Forge. Prior to that, the ongoing conflict had been considered pest control by the dragon hierarchy and terraforming by the fae swarms: Serious and deadly, yes, but not really the type of thing that ended in peace talks.

Until Dakarth of the Forge had dramatically shifted to human form mid-battle and demonstrated that he could communicate with both fae and dragons in that form, before just as dramatically getting swatted by both sides. It hadn’t been pleasant, but it had been effective. Peace talks were held with both sides acknowledging the other as people. A thousand years later it was still a rough transition, the current fae queen was the same one who had only reluctantly agreed to stop treating dragons as particularly rich sources of raw material, and it was His Majesty’s direct predecessor who had grudgingly agreed to transfer Fae Issues to the Minister of Diplomatic Relations rather than the Minister of Public Sanitation.

“I’m pretty sure the fae queen is just getting old and preparing to transfer power.”

“Then her successor will desire to prove herself; we must prepare.”

According to the newspaper, the fae queen’s successor was involved in shady financial dealings with big agriculture but the dragon host wouldn’t be able to address that. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” Dak said, “but I don’t think I can help.”

“It is good to see you with my own eyes. I know that if I have need and call to you, you will respond, Dakarth of the Forge.”

Dak sighed. “I missed you too.”

His Majesty was right: if he called out, Dak would try to help. Somehow. Probably not the way His Majesty wanted though. It was good to see His Majesty, but even better to have him gone again.

“A thousand years later, he finds you alive, after your death signaled the end of the war, and he isn’t suspicious at all?” said the fae who had been standing as still as possible on top of the dragon nightlight.

“We grew up together. My nails are still Fae-Blood Teal,” Dak pointed out defensively.

“Yeah, even without any polish, because you have fae blood. It didn’t occur to him to question your loyalty?”

“I am perfectly loyal! Dragons survived the war that would have killed them.”

“But at what cost.”

With the ballooning dragon population, many stayed mostly in their smaller human forms. It was easier to get enough food for a human body than for a dragon body. The leaders might spend most of their days in the mountain ranges, eating whole yak, but most dragons lived in apartments and ate takeout. And got their nails trimmed and buffed in salons rather than in bloody battle.

Dak shrugged and started cleaning up the salon. “All things change in time. I don’t think living as humans is too high a price for living.”