#memory loss etc etc

[thatwolficorn]

More stupid theory stuff:

Remember how Tessa and the other humans at the gala were just shadows? Maybe that was because those events were shown through memories, through the eyes of a drone. Tessa now, in the present, has colour and a more defined form. The humans from the pilot in the exposition sequence are also not shadows. Eldritch J's human hand wasn't a shadow. The skeletons aren't shadows. We see all of that as is, without it being a POV or anything like that.

Maybe the drones see humans differently?

[tennessoui]

im cheating a bit cause i fully plan to write this as a prompt fill (someone sent me the prompt 'waking up with amnesia') BUT anyway

au where the separatists/sith kidnap anakin during the clone wars and they remove all of his memories to make him easier to brainwash

and he Falls very easily with no ties to the Light side (obi-wan, padme, ahsoka, his mother)

but the jedi steal him back after a few months of darth vader exacting devastation on the battlefield. jedi healers do know how to access the shut-out memories and bring anakin skywalker back -- but it has to be a slow process or else his mind may crumble under the force of those memories returning

so obi-wan has to watch as his padawan is returned to him piece by piece....it's devastating when anakin remembers him as master before he remembers him as jedi master.

it's even more devastating when obi-wan, in a moment of weakness unbefitting a jedi master war general, begs vokara che to be allowed to look through some of anakin's memories--carefully stored (yes, yeah whatever a la inside out, fine) and awaiting immersion in anakin's consciousness--and discovers that some of the atrocities they know vader committed happened before he fell. when he was still anakin. when he was still obi-wan's padawan.

and worse.

how do you look at someone who half-believes you to be a slave master, all the while being the sole person who knows: the strength of your bond to each other. the blood on their hands.

the deep and dark and all-abiding love they have been harboring for you that they never wanted you to know about.

[vague-magnus-archives]

Eye require an even number of candidates...

[jacksprostate]

Treatise on why No, the doctor just giving the narrator of Fight Club (full name) his requested sleep medication or sending him to therapy would not have Fixed Him

Firstly, saying giving him the insomnia meds would’ve fixed him ignores the reason he has insomnia in the first place. He is so deeply upset by his place in society that he literally cannot sleep. Drugging him to sleep would not change that. That, of course, is the easy, quick response.

But with regard to therapy? The biggest flaw is that it ignores a central tenet of the book. Part of what tortures the narrator and drives him to invent Tyler is that his feelings about this collective, systemic issue are constantly reduced to a Just Him thing. His seatmates ask what his company is. He’s the only one upset at the office. He gets weird looks if he says the truth of what he does. People will do anything in their power to pretend he is the issue, as an individual, because it is far scarier to consider the full implications of the systemic issues implied by what he is saying. Everyone treats it as if the issue is him, so he goes insane. He does anything to get someone to say, holy shit, that’s fucked up, what you’re a part of is wrong. In an attempt to feel any sort of vague sympathy and catharsis, he goes to support groups to pretend to be dying, because then at least people don’t habitually blame him for his anguish. 

Saying therapy would fix him ignores that his problems are not individual. They are collective. It’s the reason the entire story resonates with people! Something deeply, unignorably wrong with society, where people would rather blame you for bringing it up than try and address it, because it feels impossible. I don’t blame people for this, really, because it IS scary. It’s terrifying to sit and feel like you’ve realized there’s something deeply, deeply wrong, but if you say something, people will get mad at you since it’s so baked into everything around you. Or, even if they agree, it’s easier to deal with the dissonance by pretending it’s individual.

And it’s not like that’s not the purpose therapy and medications largely serve, anyway. Getting into dangerous territory for this website, but ultimately, the reason the narrator was seeking medication was because it’s a bandaid. A very numbing bandaid. For these very large, dissonance causing problems, therapy does very little. Medications do what they always have, and distract you with numbness or side effects. It’s a false solution. He is seeking an individualized false solution because he has been browbeaten with the idea that this is an issue with him alone, when it's plainly clear it's not. 

Don't get me wrong. Obviously he has something wrong with him. But it's a product of his situation. It is a fictional exaggeration of a very real occurrence of mental illness provoked by deep unconscionable dissonance and anguish.  There is a clear correlation between what happens and his mental state and his job and how isolated he is. 

The thing is, even if he were chemically numbed, I do think he would’ve lost it regardless. Many people on meds find they don’t fix things. For reasons I’ll get into, but in this case because even if numbed or distracted, once you’ve learned about deep, far reaching corruption in society, it’s very hard to forget. Especially if, in his case, you literally serve as the acting hand of this particular variety. He’s crawling up the walls. 

So why do people say this?  Well, it's funny I guess. Maybe the first time or whatever. But also, often, they believe it, to a degree. Maybe they've just been told how effective therapy and meds are for mental illness, they believe wholeheartedly in The Disease Model of Mental Illness, maybe they themselves have engaged with either and have considered it successful. Maybe they or someone they know has been 'saved' by such treatments. 

But in all honesty.... What therapy can help with is mentality, it's how you approach problems. For issues on a smaller scale, not meaning they are easier to deal with my any degree, but ones that are not raw and direct from deep awareness of corruption; these are things that can be worked through if you get lucky and get an actually good therapist who helps build up your resiliency. But when your issue is concrete, something large and inescapable? It's useless. At best it can help you develop coping mechanisms, but there is a limit for that. There is a point where that fails. To develop the ability to handle something like this requires intense development of a comfort with ambiguity and dissonance and being isolated and a firm positioning of your purpose and values and and belief in wonder and all the other shit I ramble about. The things that the narrator lacks, which lead him to taking an ineffectual death knell anarchist self-destruction path. Therapy, where the narrator is, full of the knowledge of braces melted to seats and all the people that have to allow this to happen? It fails. 

And meds — meds are a fucking scam. We know the working mechanism of basically none of them, the serotonin receptor model was made up and paid its way into prominence. We have very little evidence they're any better than placebo, and they come with genuinely horrific side effects. Maybe you got lucky. I did, on some meds. On others? I don't remember 2018. The pharmaceutical industry is also known for rampant medical ghostwriting, and for creating 'off-label' uses for drugs that have gained too many protests in their original use, then creating a cult of use to then have 'grassroots' campaigns for it to be made a label use (ie, legitimize their ghostwritten articles with guided anecdotes). 

The DSM itself is basically a marketing segregation plot. It's an attempt to legitimize the disease model by isolating subgroups of symptoms to propose individualized treatments for subgroups that are not necessarily all that separate. But if the groups exist, you can prescribe more and different medications, no? Not to mention, if you use the disease model, you can propose that these diseases are permanent, or permanent until treated, considered more and more severe to offset and justify the horrific side effects of the medications. Do you know why male birth control doesn't really exist? Same reason. They can justify all the horrible side effects for women, because the other option is pregnancy. For men, it's nothing. 

And they're not bothering to invent new drugs without side effects. When they invent new drugs it's just because the last one got too bad of a name, or they can enter a new market. Modern drugs don't work any better than gen1 drugs. They still have horrific side effects. At best, the industry will shit out studies saying the old one was flawed (truth) so they can say this new gen will be better (lie). They're doing it with ssris right now. 

Fundamentally, the single proposed benefit of any of these drugs is that they numb you. To whatever is torturing you. It's harder to be depressed if you can't feel it, or if you just can't muster the same outrage. Of course, there is people who find that numbness to be helpful, or worth it. But often, it's stasis. For the people who have problems that can be worked on, it serves as a stopgap to not actually work on said problems. The natural outcome of the disease model is stagnation for those whose need is to develop skills and resiliency. It keeps them medicalized and dependent on the idea that they're diseased and incapable. Profitable. Stuck in the womb. 

I’ve been there. It’s easier, to wallow, and resist growth because it’s difficult and painful and unfair and cruel and you can think of five billion reasons to justify your languishing. But don’t listen to anyone who tells you you’re just permanently damaged, no matter how nicely they word it, no identity or novel pathologization, no matter how many benefits they promise, especially if they swear up and down some lovely expensive medications with little solid backing and plentiful off-label usage and side effects that’ll kill you. Some days it feels like they want us all stuck in pods, agoraphobic and addicted to the ads they feed us to isolate the markets for the drugs they’ve trained us to beg them to pump us with. Polarization making it as easy as flashing blue light for go, red like for stop, or vice versa. I worry about the kids, for fucks sake. That’s a bit dark and intense, and I apologize. But I want you (generic) to understand, there is a profit motive. Behind everything. And they do not mean well. They do not care about your mental health or your rights or your personhood or your growth. They care about how they can profit off of you.

For those struggling with immovable, society problems, like the narrator grappling with how his job fits into and is accepted by society while his rejection and horror in the face of it does not, it can work about as well as any other drug addiction. Your mileage may vary. From what I've seen, recovering from being on prozac for a long time can be worse than alcohol. They put kids on this shit. They keep campaigning for more. Off label, again. A pharmaceutical company’s favorite thing to do has to be to spread rumors of someone who knows someone who said an off label use of this drug helps with this little understood condition. Or, in the case of mental illness, questionably defined condition. And like, damn, I know I'm posting on the 'medicalization is my identity' website so no one will like all this and has probably stopped reading by now, but yall should be exposed to at least one person who doubts this stuff. Doesn't just trust it. Because I mean, that's the thing right?

It's so big. What would it mean, for this all to be true? Yeah, everyone says pharmaceutical companies are evil and predatory and ghostwriting, but to think about what that really entails. Coming back to the book, everyone knows the car lobby is huge and puts dangerous vehicles through that kill people. What does it mean if the car companies all hire people to calculate the cost of a recall and the cost of lawsuits? No one wants to think about the scale that means for people allowing it or the systems that have to be geared towards money, not safety like they say. Hell, even Chuck misses the beat and has the narrator threaten his boss with the Department of Transportation. And shit, man, if every company is doing this, you think Transportation doesn't know? That they give a fuck? You're better off mailing all the evidence to the news outlets and hoping they only character assassinate you a little bit as they release the news in a way that says it's all the fault of little workers like you, not the whole system. Something something, David McBride, any whistleblower you feel like, etc. 

So I don't blame you, if your reaction is "but but but, that can't be right, people wouldn't do it, they wouldn't allow it" or just an overwhelming feeling of dread that pushes you to deny all of this and avoid thinking about it. Just know, that's in the book. That's all the seatmates on the flights. That's all his fellow officemates. It's easier to pretend, I know.

But think about, how the response fits in with the themes of the book. The story, as a movie too. What drives the narrator’s mental breakdown? How would you handle being in his position? How would you handle being his seatmate? It’s easy to say you’d listen. But have you? Have you had any soul wrenching betrayals of how you thought society worked? How about a betrayal by the thing that promised to be the fix of the first? Can you honestly say you wouldn’t follow that gut instinct, saying follow what everyone says, that person must just be crazy, evil, rude, cruel, whatever it is that means you can set what they said aside?

For a lot of people, they can do that, I guess. Set it aside. Reaching that aforementioned state of managing to cope with the dissonance and ambiguity and despair is very hard. The narrator made the Big Realization, but he couldn’t cope. He self-destructed. Even when people don’t make the big realization consciously, they’re already self-destructing. It’s hard to escape it when it feels easier than continuing anyway. When it feels like the only option,

Would therapy fix the narrator of Fight Club? Would meds fix the narrator of Fight Club? No. He knows too much. All meds will do, by the time he’s in the psych ward, is spiritually neuter him. A silly phrase, but really. Take the wind out of his sails. 

Is he fixed if he doesn’t try to blow up town? If he just shuts up and settles in and stops costing money? If he still can’t cope with the things he’s unearthed? Do you see how this is a commentary in a commentary in a commentary?

Fight Club is an absolutely fascinating story because of this. The fact that it addresses the fallout of knowing. The isolation. The hopelessness. The spiral that results from a lack of hope. This is, I think, what resonates most with people, even if not consciously. Going insane because you’ve discovered something you wish you could unknow. It’s a classic horror story. Should our society be lovecraftian evil? I don’t think so. 

Do I think changing it will be easy? No. Lord knows a lot exists to push people who make these sorts of Realizations towards feelings of individuality and individualized solutions and denial and other distractions and coping methods. And to prevent people who make One realization from expanding on it and considering further ramifications. Fight Club itself gets into this; the isolation of men being a strict part of the role society shapes for their sex leaves them very vulnerable to death fetishes, in a sense, and generally towards self destructive violence. It helps funnel them away from substantial change and towards ineffectual change. Many things, misogyny, racism, serve to keep people isolated from one another, individualized, angry, and impossible to work with. Market segregation; god knows even appealing on those fronts has become such a classic ploy that companies do it now, the US military frames its plundering that way, etc. 

I’ve wandered a bit but ultimately, my point is this: Fight Club is a love letter to the horrors of critical thinking, and the importance of not falling into the trap of self destruction and hopelessness in the face of it. The latter is why Tyler was an anarchoterrorist instead of anything useful. The latter is why it was a death cult. It’s important to work through the horrors of critical thinking so you can do it, and stand on the other side ready to believe in each other. It’s worth it.

[oatbugs]

if i had an allergic reaction again will my friend appear to hold my hand again if i get really drunk again will they carry me home if i'm too sick to get up will she call me at 5 AM to check up again if we've missed a flight and we're stuck in city we weren't meant to be in at 2AM will he tell me about philosophy again if i make bad decisions will she almost slap me in the face and hand me a cigarette again if i feel lost will she share shitty kebab and tell me about her life again will we get to play poker together again

[temporarypenintraining]

Ya'll what is it with Jay and rooftops? -Crashed his glider on a rooftop and met Wu -Ends up on a rooftop at the end of Skybound, after the most traumatizing events of his life -Confronted Unagami on the roof of Borg Tower (I mean that's like 90% of villains but STILL) -Nya left him on a rooftop after becoming the ocean and defeating Wojira -Bonus: Fell through that lady's roof TWICE in Stixx This is like, a thing for him. Boy and rooftops are not pals.

[pink-elefantz]

"it's ableist to be scared of losing your memory" bestie what the fuck are you talking about. ur all giving me diarea

[stellerssong]

so good news bad news time (incredibly low-stakes). good news: i have finished (barring some tweaking and fiddling) the top of a hadestown fic. bad news: as usual i have no intention of completing it (though i do know roughly the arc of it). what do.

[lupfull]

something obvious that i didn't really realise with memory loss/lost time/memory chunks missing is that you don't. fucking remember having forgot something. you'll just carry on and if you're used to "eh i can't remember what i did x/y/z ago" you'll shrug and be fine with it. it's just when you trip/confront something that you have a big hole about you go Oh Weird. i forgot i forgot that. like a fool because that's exactly wh

[wethecelestial]

the violence visited against me specifically* by every single genius annotation on butchered tongue

[elegyofthemoon]

yknow. kinda wish there was more eternal sunshine au's out there.

[luvevee]

Liking a slightly-less bad/more liked pokemon character doesn't mean you get to be rude to people who like bad/less-liked pokemon characters

[1-800-sexy-mad]

I think Change of Mind is a masterful wolf 359 episode but for me it's very ... emotional to listen to, for lack of better wording. we the audience know full well that almost every one of these characters are now dead. These characters who we are getting to see joking together and bonding and having connections with each other (side note, the wolf 359 writers are VERY good at getting you attached to characters, even when they only have two hours) are dead. we know that their deaths were long and drawn-out and painful, and yet here they are in this episode we're listening to now. It's a glimpse into a past that will never exist again, and especially when framed through lovelace's eyes - these people were her friends and members of her crew, and she still believes that she failed them in some way - it is very painful to listen to.

[galacticlamps]

The Doctor, explaining his concerns to the psychologist treating Jamie: I’m worried that these Shard implant things could be altering people’s characters, changing who they are and making them behave in ways they normally wouldn’t. Take Jamie for instance, he’s been off ever since we got here, but you can’t spot it because you just don’t know him like I do.

-30 seconds later-

The Doctor: here Jamie take my arm

Jamie: ah no thanks I’m alright

The Doctor: ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ

[spikybanana]

snippet from ch1 of green haze, coming at some point this year (read the prologue here)

It’s so quiet here. A quiet that matched the silence in his mind that bordered on disquieting. In fact, Sirius realised, the cause for that quiet wasn’t just peace, but a vast blankness. He— couldn't remember anything. Not how he ended up where he was, nor any piece of information about the life he’s been living. He stared fixedly at the river, as though answers will just come floating downstream. He had a name, and that was it; all attempts to prowl through his mind turned up empty— empty and numb. And the numbness soon turned oppressive. He brought his hands to his temples and scrunched his eyes shut as a headache began to brew. 

Damn it. Was there nothing at all?

Just then, a voice came from behind him.

“Hello.” It said quietly.

Sirius snapped around. A young man looked back at him from the threshold of the woods. He startled a little at Sirius’ abrupt motion, but continued staring fixedly, unabashedly at Sirius. He was leaning against a tree, all lithe limbs and fuzzy unkempt hair, and there was something so careful and delicate in the way he held himself up. From the colour of his skin to the plain cotton clothes, he was all earthy tones that blended so perfectly into the rest of this world, Sirius wouldn’t have realised at first glance he even was there. 

“Hey.” Sirius responded, voice hesitant. “Do I… know you?”

The young man was utterly unfazed by the hostility in Sirius’ tone. In fact, he appeared even vaguely amused. He looked like he was genuinely considering the question, before answering seriously, “Not yet, I suppose.”

Sirius looked up and down the curious stranger, considering the studiously careless posture that betrayed his nerves. Sirius thought his fingers might be fidgeting in his pocket. “And… How long have you been standing there watching me?” 

The man coughed a little, a hand coming up to hide it. “Well… uh. No. I just got here myself.”

Sirius’ eyes narrowed just the slightest. Aside from anything else, this man was not a brilliant liar. 

“Haven’t you anywhere to go?” 

“Yes I have, in fact. I was just passing by, you see.” There was definitely something teasing in the corner of his mouth. “This is a queer spot to stumble upon anyone. Quite far out, don’t you think?” 

Sirius frowned, trying to hide his cluelessness of their whereabouts. “From where?” 

“The village, of course. There’s not much else around here, besides the couple of trees and hills.” He pushed himself up then, took a few steps towards Sirius. “I’m heading down now myself, would you like to come with me? It’s a bit of a walk to go on alone.”

It’s a terrible idea, his instincts said. A perfect stranger out in the literal wild— but Sirius couldn’t find a real reason to distrust the young man, for the life of him. Sure, he could be an enemy, or even part of why Sirius was where he was. But being close to whoever did this meant information, and figuring the whole situation out. He knew how to be careful when he needed to be; he knew how to keep himself alive. And on the other hand…

Without having realised it, Sirius had stood there in silence with a hostile frown for such a long time, that the young man’s smile began to falter.

“You’re… uh.” He said, biting his lips again. “I’m just hoping for company. You don’t have to come with, of course, but…”

On the other hand, Sirius decided, there was something about this man. Something almost painfully familiar that invited Sirius’ trust. And he’s so meekly, plainly open in the way he approached Sirius, he couldn’t imagine him ever wielding a weapon. Besides, Sirius hadn’t many options while his brain was utterly empty of forest survival tactics. So, he nodded, took two steps forward himself.

“Fine, then. I’ll keep you company.” He said.

[fullscoreshenanigans]

"long time vet" oh I am HUGGING you fully with my arms <3

💖💝💗💖💝💗