#not a single day of peace in armand's life

[prisonhannibal]

imagine being armand when he’d been lying to louis for 70+ years and louis suggested inviting a pulitzer prize winning investigative journalist whose main hobby is asking questions to stay in their apartment for two weeks while louis tells him his whole life story, including the events armand lied to him about. i’d be shaking. I wouldn’t get a single peaceful day of sleep for WEEKS

[savagewildnerness]

OK!  Thoughts on S2E2, Do you know what it means to be loved by death?

I love the gold (Pegasus?) statue Louis and Claudia sit upon at the start of the episode

“We’ve been together 77 years Daniel.” …”44 more than he did with Lestat.” LOL Armand (I agree with Daniel: “Keep selling it!” !!!!)

LOL @ Louis’ Parisian neck scarf

The fashion plates Claudia has cut out and stuck inside her bed… my heart

Louis looks so good in the red darkroom light, oh my!

Claudia asking Louis who he is reminded me of my thoughts the other day (a very brief summary):

Louis is afraid to look deeply within himself at who he is, in case he is not perfect, as he needs to believe he is.  But he does believe he deserves love.

Conversely, Lestat knows himself - for his evil especially, and despite it all, he still likes himself mainly. But he is afraid he is utterly unloveable.

Claudia talking about a new brain in her head and Armand a new body for her brain… are they *really* going to go there?  It is seeming like it?

I like Madeleine from the wee bit we saw, and I love Claudia’s dress

“It’s just Rashid” LOL

The first meeting of Armand and Louis:

Armand is like a poem made into the form of a being - the way Assad’s Armand speaks, how he looks, how he looks at Louis: he radiates a quiet peace, calm & poetic gentleness, which gave me shivers and goosebumps. Like the beautific gaze of an angel. All added to by Daniel Hart’s divine score, reflecting exactly the same emotions. This is how Armand is often described in the books (until he’s not), but because of the extremes Armand can go to, I don’t often think of this calm, angelic, almost innocent side to him so much… but oh how I felt it

I love how the lamp lights flicker.  It’s like a fairytale romance and everything about it: down to “I will not harm you” is exactly as Louis would wish to hear

SANTIAGO!  I love Ben Daniels.  I love Santiago’s outfit and his eyes and his theatricality and his evident cleverness.

Interesting how dilapidated the Theatre des Vampires is.  Seems like it hasn’t been updated since the ’20’s - half empty; broken bulbs… I am sure we have more to hear on this in the show…

Love how Armand brought cinema into the plays

The plays though have such a tawdry, distasteful feel.  I would agree with Louis’ and Lestat’s visceral dislike of them, even before the human sacrifice.  Though I do like the Brecht vibes.  But it is such a contrast to S1 Lestat and Louis at the Opera…

LOL @ Louis’ face seeing the portrait of Lestat!  And “They’ve got a shrine to him!” Hahaha

Whaaatttt @ Santiago and star charts!! Hahahahaha??!?!?!

Claudia on Loumand… I guess we have our answer now as to whether the vampires really are having actual sex and exactly how!  Cheers Claudia!!!

Roget knowing about Lestat potentially sleeping… interesting…

I’ll copy and paste from elsewhere my thoughts on the Loustat scene…

“Do not waist life…” - Oh Lestat, the illiterate boy & young man you were; so desperate to learn & be good, with a Mother for whom knowledge & escape through books was her only solace… who couldn’t even be bothered to teach you the alphabet.  Now, with your preternatural skills, you can read & write & do any thing you wish… but of course - it makes sense that you would never have entirely learned how to spell, or at least that there’d be the odd, common words you didn’t know. (Occurence, too.) Little details, breaking my heart even more. Thank you everyone for caring so much, you thought about the spelling of Lestat’s letter. I noticed. I care about every tiny detail like this & feel it, like love: deep in my soul.

Also: is Dreamstat *really* going to make me cry in every single episode of season 2, even when he’s barely in the episode for a breath?! (1 min 40 seconds to be precise!) He made me cry in episode 1, and here he made me cry too. 

Oh Louis: to read this letter & all your internal pain & shame & sorrow & guilt & love to deepen, I’m sure even more. Oh Sam, how you spoke the letter. Oh Lestat’s outfit, from their first “date”….

Another link to the episode title here -  Do you know what it means to be loved by death? too

For anyone who’s like the full text of the letter:

“My Louis

In the event you are reading this, something dreadful has occured, which is not my own death, but rather the fact that we now both exist (e?) in two different worlds.

Do not waist life seeking revenge on the person or persons responsible. Do not give them the satisfaction of the hunt. Let their treachery eat them from within and instead…”

(Continued as spoken…)

“And you… you go carry on with your living. Know only this, Mon Cher, you are the only being I trust and whom I love, above and beyond myself.

All my love belongs to you. You are its keeper. A veil will now forever separate our union. But it is a thin veil… and I am always on the other side, my face pressed up against your longing.

Lestat de Lioncourt”

Alice truly doesn’t exist, does she?  Armand: what *have* you done to Daniel!?!  Is all of his life a lie? Is Daniel's shaking here evidence that Armand's mind-altering has had physical impact on Daniel too?  And Louis clearly knows some of it too… though I presume not the love part…. And THEY MUST LOVE EACH OTHER like Devil’s Minion which always makes me sob. (Or maybe Alice does exist, but Armand is why she wouldn’t marry Daniel?)

Oh Claudia - your GLEE at Murder mansion

“I like how you withhold” - Armand providing your next chat up line - you’re welcome!

OMG we’re going to actually see Nicolas play violin!  I am SO SCARED!  I hope I’ll adore it and I have faith in the show makers. But, I have also seen so much terrible violin miming (it makes me wonder, when people play surgeons, is what they are doing this annoyingly unrealistic too and I just have no idea!?!) and it is particularly noticeable, as usually piano miming is very good!  Anyway, I know it is such a minor thing in the greater scheme of things, but I know I will be so irritated if it doesn’t look like Nicki is playing the violin.  And it’s only that telly violin miming is so notoriously bad.  Oh, please - let me believe in it!  I BEG!

[deaddovehasbeeneaten]

MARIUS QUESTIONS HELLO 3. What first drew you to this character? 18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both? 25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not? 34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life? 50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

AAAAAA, get ready!! (Thank you good italian perv fairy :D)

3. His name. It was so clearly wrong yet evocative of Rome I had to wonder why would anyone that ancient choose it. Why hide your identity in plain sight basically? (Turns out it's not that deep and he was just horny) Furthermore the concept of a Roman Vampire and how did that come to be was an instant turn on for me

18. Hmm...to illustrate, I haven't read the PL trilogy yet but based on what I gathered from the fandom and specifically what Eef told me I already know I will likely not be a big fan of the whole Prime Minister development. Because it just seems like the easier way out for him, I'm sorry! Yeah he lost his purpose, so let's give him another one quickly so that he can pick up the old pieces of his life and lies without much fuss. Well yeah, as of now I prefer a state of uneasiness for him, because I feel like he's not ready to know true peace. But I sure as hell hope he'd get there one day, it's the best thing immortality can do for him!

25. I both read and write a lot of Human AUs, my favourites include Vantablack, you might have heard of it, it's very fucking good and sends chills running down my spine every single time. Ultimately though I think it's tied to Marius specifically, more like the whole universe Anne had created. If you choose to make a bunch of terrible night parasites into humans you obviously have to adjust so much and it just depends on what you want to do and leaves room for a specific kind of creativity I'd say that's just very sympathetic and cool to me. If you want to write teeth rotting fluff, you can! I don't think *I'd* prefer to read it to some other concepts but it's doable and challenging too.

50. My Marius playlist my Armand/Marius playlist and my tiny Marius/Pandora playlist. This pinterest board for the project Suppliant. My favourite fanart. I can't think of much more in the moment.

[beautifulsavagegarden]

Drabble - Spoilers for The Vampire Armand

He was quiet, his expression beautifully thoughtful as he knelt before the communion rail, looking up at the Christ on the cross, trying to wrap his head around Lestat's claims. Lestat had met the Christ as a man and he had taken his blood into him just as the faithful believed they did during the communion that would take place in this very spot that he occupied. the blood of Christ shed for you. It had been anathema to him, the fact that after all he had suffered, all the trials he had experienced in his life, all the loss, that it had been Lestat who had been so blessed. It had always been Lestat and even when he had lain on that floor gathering dust, he had drawn them all to him. There would never be a day where such a thing would occur for Armand. He could never summon them all, they would never care enough for him to do that and he understood to a degree. He was not as likeable as Lestat, he was truly a monster, and yet it wasn't just the monsterous that lurked beneath his skin. He was growing older in the blood with every year that passed and yet he was still young, still that boy staggering lost throughout the world trying to understand not only the world but who he was rather than who he had been and the mistakes he had made.

He had met Lestat first face to face in a church, in Notre Dame herself. He had once dwelled within a monastery. He had no right to exist in a state of semi-peacefulness when he was in the Holy Houses because he had been a child of satan, he had been a leader of the cult of the children of darkness and he had broken so many of the holy laws and yet he was allowed to be in such places as these. He tilted his head slightly to the side, his hands clasped together as though in prayer, studying the intricate and exact details of the Christ. He saw what very few mortal eyes ever could and he could appreciate the craftsmanship of this Christ. He wished, not for the first time, that he could have a true communion with him.

That could only ever be a wish though because when the Christ had touched them, he had touched Lestat, and it had driven him almost to the point of madness and yet it had been Armand who had gone into the sun. Was it the Christ who had saved him from the fate that he had lunged for with both hands or was it sheer coincidence, his own inbuilt vampiric desire to survive? Armand was many things and tenacious was certainly one of those things. He would survive, he would go on, he would deal with his sufferings and he would continue to move within the ever changing world, searching for something that was long lost to him now. He had his darling Sybelle and beautiful Benji and they were of great comfort to him, his family in every way they could be, and they brought happiness to him but there was always going to be an empty space that he could never ignore. He blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the blood tears that welled in his eyes at the mere thought of what he was searching for, who he was longing for. That bridge had been burned. There was no way to cross that chasm if he could even find him. Oh Daniel, my beloved Daniel. Did you weep when you heard of my demise? Did you know? Did you care?

Armand glanced around him, checking to see that he was alone, before he rose to his feet in a fluid motion, inclining his head towards the Christ in a small bob of deference, before he moved to the candles. Slowly, almost reverently, he reached for the taper and lit it then found a candle waiting. He lit the wick, watching as the flames consumed it and set the candle alight. He disposed of the taper and then focused on the dancing flame on the wick of the candle he had chosen and silently sent a prayer out to the world, to anyone who could listen. Bring my boy home. A single bloody tear escaped him and he brushed it away, turning and leaving the church, knowing that it had all been for nothing and yet hoping, desperately that this prayer would be answered.

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

Here's some Templars whose research distracted me very well from the happenings in Paris and the fact I'm ordering food via phone to go out as little as possible. Okay. Here's what I found:

Transcript of the first and second page:

André de Montbard was born on November 5th 1097. All we know is that he had richt even noble parents and that he was the fifth Grand Master and founder of the Templars.

Bertrand de Blanchefort was the sixth Grand Master and was born sometime in 1109. He fostered the Templars as guardians of travelling Christians rather than brutes despite their weaponry. For three years he was a prisoner of was and went on one single expedition, declining a second.

Philip of Nablus, also: of Milly actually a Jerusalem-born man in 1120. Wasn't too fond of being Grand Master yet submitted to Almaric pressuring him. He became seventh Grand Master and resigned in 1171.

Ode de St. Amand was the eigth Grand Master born in 1110. He was captured by Saladin in the battle of Morj Ayyun, to the dismay of his fellows since he was described as a headstrong guy, leading in both praise and resentment and being a valuable member.

Arnold of Torroja born in wherever and whenever, he was the ninth Grand Master at the ripe age of 70. He worked on Hispaniola in the Reconquista. His capability in negotiating even with Saladin made him an important GM, so important that his tomb was only discovered in 2018, very well hidden from others.

Gerard de Rideford hid his birth year but died in 1189. Used to be the 10th Grand Master of the Templars. He used king Henry II's money to bring more troops to Jerusalme. Apparently he was pretty beloved, as Saladin offered his life for a peaceful surrender, which succeeded and he was released to Tortosa.

Transcript of the third and fourth page:

Robert de Sablé was born a lord of Sablé in 1150. Not only was he the eleventh Grand Master but also member of the Valiant Order. Helped Henry Hunior revolt against his daddy Henry II and also convinced Islamic troops to retreat in the third crusade.

Gilbert Erail (or Horal) born whenever, died in 1200. He was the twelfth Grand Master and aspired to wage peace, not war, in between Christians and Muslims.

Philippe de Plessis castle-forn or rather fortress-born in France in 1165. Was the thirteenth Grand Master of the Templars and had semi-good relationships to the Hospitallers (kinda like the Templars but evangelican Maltesers). Suggested a peace treaty with Malek Adhel.

Pedro de Montagut (or Montaigu) died in 1232 while still being a Grand Master and ways a friend of Guillaume de Chartes, whoever that was. Made a deal with the Muslims: they gave up Jerusalem while the Templars stopped the siege of Damietta. Most importantly he got a piece of the True cross, I wonder if that's still somewhere?

Armand de Lavaie he was born in 1178 in Calabria and elected Grand Master. Death is really unclear, some say he died in battle, others say he survived capture. In 1239 he arrived in Acre for a treaty with a sultan.

Richard de Bures is somewhat of a ghost since all we know is he died in May 1247 and was the seventeenth Grand Master.

Transcript of the fifth and sixth page:

Guillaume de Sonnac a noble-born Frenchman whose birth date is unclear. Took part in the successful 7th crusade. He worked as a chronicler for the Templars, lots of information we know on them cites him as source. He replaces Périgord while this guy was captured, and his death was the end of the 17th crusade.

Renaud de Vichiers was the 19th Grand Master of the Templars and the preceptor of Saint Jean-d'Acre. He was having issues with Hugues de Joug and had to throw him out of the order to stop their fight. Lois IX of France was a supporter and financer of Renaud, but he again fought with him and parted int he end over a diplomatic mission. He retired in a monastery, and if not alone, he argues to this day.

Thomas Bérard wrote letters of misery to king Lois despite being twentieth Grand Master and somewhat respectable. He initiated a cooperation with the Hospitaliers Teutons and yielded the last island's fortification in June. Asking the Pope for help he waged the 8th crusade which became the last since Lois died. His most significant win: a 10-year-truce for Muslims and Christians.

Thibaud Gaudin another man with rich parents boen in 1229 was the 22nd Grand Master of the Knights Templars. Demanding people from Cyprus for a siege in Sidon wasn't successful since the reinforcements never came, so he left the Holy Land in ashes.

That's Jaques de Molay, the 23rd and last of the Knights Templar's Grand Masters. I found a painting depicting him and it showed me how Templars looked like, from an ancient point of view, not one in Hollywood. Templars were called Knights Templars and would own and wear a normal knight's armour during the day. Above that, they had a white cloak with a black Christian cross on it, and a leather belt in which they could carry their swords in.

Molay lead the order from the 20th April of 1292 until Pope Clement V was having none of it and dissolved the order in 1312. After the fall of Acre the Catholics retreated to Cyprus, the headquater of Jerusalem. He wanted to obviously keep the order and tried to rebuild the Templars, raiding several cities in the 1300s at the coast of Egypt and Syria (not very Christian huh?). They lost in Ruad and had to retreat to the shore, always feeling the pressure to collaborate with other Christian forces. Molay was sent to France to meet up with the Pope and arrived in 1306 or 1307. He even asked the Pope to wipe the name of the Knights templars clear and adress the rumours and accousations.

What I gathered from all of this? There is no mention of the Lux Veritatis and the order was dissolved and never officially continued. Now, theory: what if someone started over and renamed the club into the LV? Could that be possible? I mean, there's plenty of ties to France...

[diveronarpg]

In fair Verona, our tale begins with LUCIEN, who is THIRTY-SEVEN years old. He is often called LAMPRIUS and is NEUTRAL. He uses HE/HIM pronouns.

Lucien’s beginning would be a familiar one, were he willing to share it with the masses. He grew up with little to his name and took what he could when it was given. Those with the gilded crests sitting at their throats feasted on sweetmeats and REVELED in their predetermined fates. Lucien, meanwhile, carved out his own path with nothing to use beyond his own two hands and words of assurance that things would work themselves out. If he dedicated himself, he’d find a decent job and live a meager life, like them. He kept his head down, said little beyond what was needed, let his actions do the talking. Still, the SHADOWS of the mobs nipped at his heels day after day, as they did every other Veronan, until their relentlessness reached a peak. He can remember it clearly, even now: his mother had collapsed in their small kitchen and wept at the news of her husband’s passing. A casualty of crossfire between two notorious families. She’d looked so... FRAGILE. When he settled down beside her and shared her tears, he’d felt just as small. He’d been seventeen, no more than a boy, but when he stood, he rose as a man, head held high. Verona would change - for his family, and all the others like his.

There were a few problems, in spite of his grand designs: he had no clue where to begin. He had the will, but not the way, and Verona itself had other plans. Three, to be exact. THE WITCHES were bound to find him one day, looking back, and find him they did. He’d always been unsure as to how they did it. Was it an unwitting conversation with Circe? Had he wronged Medea, somehow, who took pity? Maybe he’d shouldered into Hecate and spilled their groceries across the cobblestone. Whichever way they discovered him, they saw an opportunity in him, his shoulders sloped from the weight of REVENGE. Lucien, at first, didn’t see them at all. Everyone knew about the Capulets and Montagues. The Witches were MYTH to him, up until they weren’t. When they offered, not insignificantly, to take him under their wing, their anonymity is what bound him to them. That, and the fact they never shied away from those who could not bear the burden of living in a city torn apart by war. They didn’t turn their faces from those who waged it, either. They dealt in absolutes, and it was those dealings that kept Verona’s innocents from their demise. 

He’d soon learn that the work of the Witches was often UGLY, comprised of hushed meetings and ears pressed to the ground, but their secrecy garnered them their reputation and power. At the same time, they taught Lucien how to hold himself, how to mask his resentment for the very men and women they negotiated with behind a neutral expression. They taught him to bury Lucien and compartmentalize his own humanity until nothing but a hollow shell remained - it was the only way to work with BEASTS, after all. They gave him the title of Lamprius, and the reassured him that he, too, would one day become a full-fledged Witch, should he prove worthy. He threw himself into the tasks they gave him fully, carried himself the way they did, imitated the pinch of their brows and flat lines of their mouths when something displeased them. Things settled, and for the first time in years, Lucien was loose from his self-imposed sorrows. He got married, moved into a house grander than one he could ever dream of. He ate a full meal every night, and paid off his mother’s medical debt up until her passing. He traveled outside of Italy, attended galas, saw the ocean, perfected his smile in the mirror. He helped broker peace from the shadows, and when the Witches felt unstoppable in the face of their Gods, so did he. Maybe that’s what caused their ruination. ARROGANCE. They considered themselves above humanity, the same as Ozymandias. It still aches to think of them, an open wound at the center of his chest, but perhaps their deaths were inevitable. Maybe they’d known - each of them had been disconcertingly cryptic in those final days, as they pushed all of their responsibilities onto Lucien - no, Lamprius - with the promise that it would all be settled, soon.

How wrong they were. While the Witches had done their utmost to turn him away from walking the single-minded path of retribution, their deaths were the nail in the coffin. Their bodies swinging from the beams served as a final message: Lucien’s initial goal, all those years ago, was not out of reach. But he couldn’t do it alone. Circe, Hecate, and Medea had themselves to turn to in times of much-needed counsel. They leaned on one another in moments of weakness and stirred each other on when the task at hand felt insurmountable. They loved each other, as all siblings should have, up until their final day. And Lucien… had no one. In a city of more than two hundred and fifty thousand, he was truly ALONE - and that wouldn’t do. But if he played his cards right, this could go exactly the way he wanted it to. He needed allies, like-minded individuals, soldiers on either side of the war who were willing to listen if he greased their palms. Equipped with every resource and asset the Witches had come to collect over the years, he’d become unstoppable. They wouldn’t have to learn to fear Lucien, because the Montagues and Capulets would never know he was there until it was too late. They’d learn to beware Lamprius the Soothsayer, and he’d soon knot the rope around their necks the same way they had done to his beloved Witches. Not for himself, but for them.

RONAN IVARSSON: Husband. Lucien isn’t stupid. He’s aware he’s married to an empty vessel, carrying around a meaningless ring he never removes. There might have been love, in those early days, but Ronan has no heart in him -- only pride and hubris. He is a miserable coward to Lucien’s face and thinks himself the clever fox when he turns away, landing blow after punitive blow to Lucien’s reputation and pride. Lucien’s tolerated it for years, because he knows at his core that his husband will never change, no matter how many times Ronan convinces himself he will. He’s taken every rumor and slight in stride, laughed off casual insults at the outskirts of gatherings while Ronan garnered all the attention he could get at the center of the room. Their dynamic had shifted after his mother’s passing, a death that damn near broke Lucien, but things are slowly reverting to the way they were before -- and it’s strange, to miss the humanity in Ronan when he’s only really gotten a glimpse of it firsthand, a peek behind the curtain. In spite of that, if his husband has one true redeeming quality, he has come when Lucien called for him, every time, like a loyal dog. They are tied to each other, and Lucien isn’t going to be the one to cut the rope.

LORETTA DELLUCI: Kindred spirit. In Loretta, he sees a mirror image -- someone who’s danced the same steps as him, caught at her collar by the long-fingered hands of death. Saving her life was no mere coincidence; it was an orchestrated part of a thousand-step plan on his part, one that went better than he ever could have asked it to. Even better: he’s almost entirely sure that she has no idea it was him who hired the burglar in the first place. He’s inching towards outright asking for aid, but she’s just as enigmatic as he is, perhaps even more difficult to pin down. In moments where their conversations over tea lapse into silence, it’s difficult to tell if her goals align with his. Her words say as much, but the brimstone burning behind her eyes says otherwise. Either way, he considers himself lucky to have her as a friend. They’re hard to come by, in Verona, and Lady Anne doesn’t shy away from what she wants until she gets it -- that’s exactly the sort of partner he needs.

ARMAND GIORDANO: Opening. Ajax defines blind loyalty. He stands with a straight spine and rigid shoulders and goes by a name that is not his own just because it’s the one thing keeping him safe in a city of monsters that walk freely during the day. But he’s not loyal to the Montagues; it’s only Roman who has his attention, and that sort of single-minded dedication can be used, if Lucien sets the pieces up on the board correctly. He’s already made the effort to have a conversation or two at parties and balls, when his gaze is not wholly on Roman, and in spite of his stony expression and down-set brow, Ajax has listened. Lucien’s determined that it’s only a matter of time before he breaks through to him, or until Ajax reaches his breaking point and tires of being treated like a statue rather than a man.

HARLEY BRENTON: Opportunity. Harley thinks she’s grown from the child she used to be, but Lucien knows better than that. He can see the craving in her for something more, sees the way she looks at Hazel Accardi -- because he knows everything there is to know about these soldiers who run themselves ragged for men that just don’t care. He can see in Harley the naive want for love, for peace. He might have felt the same way, a long time ago, when he thought the world was true and honest and his dedication to his own husband was not just a facsimile of emotion. He’s taken the first few crucial steps to roping her in to the plan, because while she’s loyal to the Capulets, she has loyalties on the other side of the river and hasn’t done her utmost to hide it. He can’t tell if it’s because she doesn’t fear the consequences or if she hasn’t yet realized the full weight of her actions, but when the time comes, he’ll protect her and pick up another pawn from the board.

Lucien is portrayed by SUNG HOON and was written by JULIE. He is currently TAKEN by REY.

[priceofliberty]

in regards to that ask about antitrust laws, and laws in general, what would you have as "laws" in an anarchic society? i dont know much about common law, is that your/a solution?

Anarchist philosophy, in practice, is a society “without rulers” (the literal definition). Many people conflate “anarchy” with “lawlessness”, and the confusion is certainly understandable. However, governance exists with or without the State and it begins with the self, extending into the home, and beyond. Many people struggle because they conflate the concept of governance with the function of a State; I had been guilty of this before I understood anarchy to mean self-governance.

We are self-governing in all of our relationships, whether it’s between a mother and child; between her and her employer; between child and teacher; buyer and supplier; disputing parties and an impartial arbiter, etc.

Mutual assent to the establishment of these relationships (and the countless others I didn’t list) is an inherently regulatory act because people set their terms, expectations, conditions, etc. before committing to them voluntarily with the exception of that between a parent and child (because who can ask you if you want to be born?)

The beauty of a free and open marketplace of ideological exchange is that people have the ability to come together and brainstorm solutions to problems that are impacting their lives. It is a far more direct and sensible approach to delegating those decision-making powers to some bureaucrat 2,000 miles away with absolutely no interest in your interests apart from saying the right combination of words to assure they are reelected for the benefit of legal and economic privileges which invariably manifest when a single, central authority has a monopoly on force and law.

Consider reading up on legal pluralism (I write about it a lot, as well). This is the notion that all people follow multiple codes, bodies of law, or moral guidelines simultaneously, even while some may conflict or overlap. Studying how various cultures throughout history have solved conflict or maintained peace can help people recognize solutions outside of the narrow confines of the State. For example, many individuals conform to social norms within the home that they would not exhibit in the workplace (and vice versa).

Anarchy isn’t the establishment of a DMV to issue you a driver’s license (that’s Statism). Anarchy is the privatization of roads, car insurance, and licensure so that the three can work in tandem to provide and maintain the infrastructure which services us as freely and efficiently as economically possible without coercion. Anarchist society, much like an economy, organizes itself without an arbitrary central authority; what works for some may not work for others. Communities are self-organized, markets are spontaneous. For instance, take this excerpt from Everyday Anarchy on dating, marriage and family:

In any reasonably free society, these activities do not fall in the realm of political coercion. No government agency chooses who you are to marry and have children with, and punishes you with jail for disobeying their rulings. Voluntarism, incentive, mutual advantage – dare we say “advertising”? – all run the free market of love, sex and marriage.

What about your career? Did a government official call you up at the end of high school and inform you that you were to become a doctor, a lawyer, a factory worker, a waiter, an actor, a programmer – or a philosopher? Of course not. You were left free to choose the career that best matched your interests, abilities and initiative.

What about your major financial decisions? Each month, does a government agent come to your house and tell you exactly how much you should save, how much you should spend, whether you can afford that new couch or old painting? Did you have to apply to the government to buy a new car, a new house, a plasma television or a toothbrush?

No, in all the areas mentioned above – love, marriage, family, career, finances – we all make our major decisions in the complete absence of direct political coercion.

When you barge into your friend’s room to ask them if you can borrow their shirt, most people close the door behind them when they leave (especially if the door was closed before you entered). It’s almost an unspoken rule to close the door behind you in such a scenario and adherence to this rule illustrates the concept I mentioned earlier: legal pluralism. This concept reflects the reality that human interaction, left to our own devices, is governed by prevailing social and cultural values and that those values are inherent to our conduct.

Besides what we consider to be “the law,” we also follow an innumerable set of unwritten rules in our day-to-day conduct. You must have noticed at this point in your life, for example, that your behavior alters between spending time among friends and spending time among family. Likewise, in the work place your demeanor shifts to conform to the standards expected of your performance in that setting. In every scenario, the penalty for breaching the terms of these unspoken norms is usually a sanction in some form or another: your parents ground you, your friends ostracize you, your boss docks your pay, etc. They do this because people respond to incentives.

Though you don’t realize it, this is anarchy in action. More examples of this are virtually limitless; the relative silence one finds in theater atmospheres is a result of a mutual, unwritten understanding between all patrons. Commercial businesses regularly agree to third-party arbitration clauses all the time, regulating the conduct of their contractual obligations outside of the confines of the Uniform Commercial Code or Federal government. Even the Juggalos have been known to settle their disputes within the context of their own communities. There are no ‘one size fits all’ answers to “what if?” scenarios.

Anarchy should not be conflated with lawlessness. A great reading recommendation on customary law, culture, and history is short book written by Dorothy Bracey called “Exploring Law and Culture”. I think its perfect introductory material to the principles within legal theory, especially for people unfamiliar with the murky concept known as “the law”. It’s short and written for the average reader rather than legal scholars. 

And finally, here are a few more resources:

Mutualism:

A Mutualist FAQ

The Homebrew Industrial Revolution: A Low-Overhead Manifesto (2010) by Kevin Carson

Studies in Mutualist Political Economy (2007) by Kevin Carson

Organization Theory: A Libertarian Perspective (2008) by Kevin Carson

What is Property? An Inquiry into the Principle of Right and of Government (1840) by Pierre-Joseph Proudhon

The Philosophy of Poverty (1847) by Pierre-Joseph Proudhon

Individualist anarchism:

The Ego and Its Own (1845) by Max Stirner

Vices Are Not Crimes: A Vindication of Moral Liberty (1875) by Lysander Spooner

Individual Liberty (1926) by Benjamin Tucker

Anarchist Individualism and Amorous Comradeship by Émile Armand

The Anarchism of Émile Armand

Agorism

Voluntaryism

[marvelouss-marvel]

Fourth Times a Charm?

Word Count: 3.8k

Pairing: Michael B. Jordan x OC!Black!Reader (featuring three of OC’s ex boyfriends)

Summary: Reader hasn’t had the best experience when it comes to guys. So, she vows to not be with anybody for as long as she lives. However, Michael stumbles into the picture and she finds it hard to stay away from him when he’s head over heels for her and proves that he is nothing like her past relationships.

A/N: This took me about a month to write because it was a bit difficult for me to relive these experiences. All three tales of the OC during their teenage years are based on my personal tales with guys. The only false part of this fic is when Michael comes in. And, based on the summary, I might do a part two. This fic will remind you guys that there is always hope for you, no matter what you experience.

Masterlist  

AGE 13

The first time Victoria had her heart broken was in eighth grade. His name was Armand and he wasn’t the cool kid he put out to be. In fact, the majority of the Eastside Middle School despised him because of his cocky attitude and irritating methods of fitting in.

 Victoria, on the other hand, was completely different. Sure, she disliked Armand like everyone else but she was willing to give him a chance that school year. One day, he came in to social studies with watery eyes and a stuffy nose, defining his poor physical health at the moment. By the time the last bell rung, he was exiting the school with a smile on his face because a certain girl had given him her number as a way to communicate when he would feel better.

 And so began the relationship of Victoria and Armand.

 The two would spend hours on the phone discussing childish topics such as their favorite show on Disney Channel to who liked who at Eastside. It also got to a point where Victoria’s nosy family had short conversations with Armand on what his intentions were with her and each member would hand back the phone, wearing a smirk as they exited the room because for once, Victoria was happy.

 School was even better. Armand would wrap his arm around Victoria’s shoulders to claim what was rightfully his and she would peck him on the cheek for the girls who watched with envy. He often passed her folded pieces of notebook paper entailing how pretty she looked that day or roasting the teacher just to get a giggle out of her. To top it all off, friends of Victoria and Armand supported the relationship nonetheless, for they felt that Victoria could change his arrogant behavior.

But like any other couple, they faced their problems.

The relationship did have its moments where sexual tension escalated for Armand and actions were paused by Victoria. She’d been raised in a family where everyone believed sex only took place during marriage and at an age this young, she was questioning right from wrong. The positive side won and the furthest she would ever go with Armand was making out with him, excluding so-called hickies. Of course, Armand didn’t like this idea.

By their third month of dating, Victoria’s strong liking for Armand had diminished. She noticed that he never attended her soccer games like he claimed he would. He stood her up at one of the monthly school dances and lied to her about why he couldn’t attend the roller skating field trip with her and the rest of their classmates. Lastly, Victoria often found herself standing in front of the mirror, glaring at the baby fat Armand pointed out to her one day as she sat and ate her usual meal for lunch: peanut butter and jelly sandwich with Cheetos and a Capri Sun.

Having enough of this, she ended things with Armand through text. Some would call her coldhearted for doing so but she had been trying to reach him all day. The original plan was to meet up and explain that the both of them weren’t ready for the relationship Armand longed for and that maybe they could continue being friends. That went out of the window when Armand sent back a single, “I’m busy right now” text and Victoria was furious. The only option left was to text him.

You might be wondering how Victoria was the broken hearted one but there’s more.

Not even a day after she ended things with Armand, he was already with someone else by the name of Rebecca. She was your typical popular girl who looked down on people like Victoria and supposedly from Victoria’s friends, Rebecca had made subtle passes at Armand during his relationship with Victoria. And Armand did the same.

She came home from school in tears, ran up to her bedroom and slammed the door closed. Her mom poked her head into the cold, dim room that belonged Victoria, heart shattering at the sight of her child in distress.

 “He told me that he’s with her because she would do anything he asked. I wasn’t comfortable with all of that sex stuff so that’s why I broke up with him.” Victoria hiccupped. “I thought he would be understanding! Not throw it back in my face that I needed to be like her!”

Her mom sat in silence, rubbing Victoria’s back in comfort as she listened to her rant. Once she calmed down, she finally spoke. “Armand isn’t understanding because no one is there to guide him on how to treat a girl. Still, his excuse is bad but just know that it’s not the end of the world Sweetie. Maybe this was God’s way of showing you to not go after guys like Armand. There are better boys out there.” she explained. “Besides, you are too young to be serious with dating. You’re only just entering your young adult life.”

Victoria knew she was right. For there were more boys to enter her life and she shouldn’t be stressing over a douche like Armand.

AGE 16

The second guy to shatter Victoria’s heart was Nickolas. Their relationship was… hard to describe. No one knew exactly what they were but that the two harbored a huge crush for one another.

It all began when Elaine, Nick’s twin and Victoria’s best friend, set her brother and Victoria up on a double date to the school carnival. While she and her girlfriend rode in one cart to the top of the Ferris Wheel, Victoria and Nick sat in another cart with awkwardness hovering above them. It was when Victoria mentioned how pretty the lights looked from up above did the strange silence disappear. Turns out, Nick liked the lights too and they discussed how at peace they felt up in the air and away from the life below them.

But Victoria didn’t know if they were talking or not. By their third double date with Elaine and her girlfriend, Victoria believed she had to ask him the dreadful question people seemed to avoid: what were they?

“I like what we have right now.” Nick answered with his arms embracing Victoria as she laid on him and his fingers maneuvered the game controller in his hands.

“Hm.” Victoria responded.

“What?”

“Nothing. I guess I like this too.” she said, nuzzling her face into his chest. It didn’t really answer her question but she went along with it. She confirmed in her head that because she and Nick were so socially awkward, they must have been talking but didn’t flat out say it.

That day happened to be a warning sign however. The red flags were waving wildly but Victoria was too oblivious to decipher their meaning.

In the year and a half she spent “talking” to Nick, he had fucked up at least three times. The first being that he refused to attend their junior prom because his guy friends weren’t going and that left Victoria to attend the dance with a good guy friend of hers. The second time, he ditched her at the homecoming dance their senior year to be with said guy friends and saw nothing wrong with pushing his date aside. The third time took place on Valentine’s Day where Elaine passed the message on to Victoria about her twin not planning on asking her to be his girlfriend anytime soon. This especially made Victoria question everything about her and Nick but like always, she wanted to see things for herself.

Senior prom was where everything came to an end. After a full night of Nick showing he wasn’t up to slow dancing and ignoring her to chit chat with the popular kids they were seated with, Victoria questioned the post high school life to see if there was still hope for a relationship.

“Of course we’ll still talk after high school!” he chuckled. “We’ll still be friends!”

Friends. That’s all Victoria was to him. Had he forgotten their first date? Why did he throw so many adoring compliments her way when she looked her best? What did they title the year and a half they spent hugging one another and pushing others away who threatened to sabotage their status?

She wanted to say more but remembered that she was cold because she had given her shawl to a friend who desperately needed to cover the protruding breasts a chaperone tended to keep his eyes on throughout the night. So, she hugged him goodbye for the evening, knowing in reality that this would probably be the last hug she shared with Nick. After his response, she refused to show him anymore affection.

The following week, Victoria would learn that Nick had started talking to somebody else when she needed support from a friend during her orchestra concert. She would later learn on Instagram that Nick and the girl confirmed their relationship. She would later learn that Nick wasn’t a true “friend” because he had never been honest with his feelings for her.

AGE 18

The last guy to screw things up was Miles Donahue, the pretty face at Lincoln High School. Three years ago, Miles and Victoria were the definition of a couple that talked. Or, they were supposed to be the definition but because Miles hung out with the wrong crowd and Victoria was going down a positive path to graduate high school, things ended abruptly.

To this day, the story is still unclear on how their past ceased. All Victoria remembers is her asking Miles to see a movie, which caused her to be left on read. Miles remembers a time where he sent a text asking Victoria if she could meet him by the bleachers during a baseball game. There were more texts sent afterwards but neither can recall where things went wrong. Instead of feeling anger, the two laughed about this as they strolled down the chilly streets of downtown Minot.

It’s been a couple of weeks after graduation and Miles wanted to reveal his feelings for Victoria before he left for college. Even before she met up with the star quarterback, Victoria had a feeling he wanted to discuss their past. After all, he spent the majority of their high school career ignoring her until senior year where he began dropping subtle hints that he wanted something.

She had been correct but still asked, “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I heard from your friends that a guy like me could ruin you. Plus, I thought you and Nick had thing going on?”

Victoria scoffed. “What Nick and I had wasn’t even a ‘thing’. The douche ended up catching feelings for other people but didn’t have the nerve to tell me.”

Miles winced at her choice of her words. Not once did he expect Lincoln High’s former Angel to say such things about someone. He always thought that pretty little head of hers was filled with butterflies and flowers, not moths and venus flytraps.

They continued on with their walk to nowhere in particular, words falling from their lips that should’ve come out a while ago. By the time they reached a church on the corner, their fingers were intertwined because enough had been said and Victoria wanted to finally be with the guy she was once crushing on.

They spent the last two weeks for Miles doing things any other couple would do; see the latest movies, take walks in parks, hang out at each others house, and run last minute errands together. Talk of a long distance relationship was discussed and Victoria believed that things would work out.

Like always for her, shit had to hit the fan.

The day Miles left, all of his friends came to bid him goodbye at the airport. Including his ex that supposedly “didn’t trust him”. He held on tightly to Victoria the longest though out of everyone, claiming he would miss her a lot.

Not even a week later, Miles was suggesting they be friends through text messages. Both had recently gotten out of relationships, even though what Nick and Victoria had wasn’t even considered dating. At first, Victoria could see Miles point and went along with his idea of just being friends. She believed they would eventually come back to being a couple, another thing Miles filled her head with.

None of that happened. For Miles was posting videos of him making out with different girls each night on social media, forgetting that Victoria could see all of this. She felt lead on and removed him from every social media account she had created.

The worst part? Miles never contacted her either.

PRESENT DAY, AGE 29

No one expected innocent Victoria to wind up at a place like the Bronzed Tankard, a well known bar in upstate New York. The principal announced at graduation that the pretty girl would be attending college to become a journalist and while that statement rang true to this day, it didn’t include her weekend visits to the bar.

She was a journalist but also a bartender who needed money for rent like every other adult living in an apartment. Sure, there was her roommate Janessa who helped out also but living in New York was like living in a mansion in Hollywood. So, together the girls worked at the Bronzed Tankard to pay for the rent.

While Janessa sorted out family problems with another co-worker in the kitchen, Victoria took over with serving the drinks to customers. It was going on 8:30 in the evening and the place was packed during this shift, like always. But with two years of working experience at Bronzed Tankard, Victoria could tackle huge crowds like a bartender at a club. She moved swiftly behind the bar, not once breaking a sweat as customers watched her in awe.

“Here you go, Finn.” she smiled at one of the regulars. “Are you sure you’re okay with doing this? The price will be mighty high.”

The man dismissed her with a playful wave. “Of course.” He turned around to face the packed bar and raised his arms above his head, shouting, “Drinks on me tonight everybody!” People cheered merrily at the wealthy man's declaration, Victoria joining in with them. She didn’t drink but the least she could do was encourage the man to keep his promise to everybody.

Two unfamiliar faces appeared from within the crowd, the atmosphere surrounding Victoria slightly shifting. One guy held a look of distress while the other, more than likely his best friend, seemed calm and collected. They approached the bar quietly, both not saying a word.

Since no one else seemed up for another drink, she pulled out a hand towel to wipe away the random wet spots all over the elongated counter. However, she still listened in on the new conversation before her.

“I don’t understand man. I thought that she was the one.” the saddened one expressed in a tone that told others he wanted to cry.

“We all think that, Ray. We all think that that one great person we meet will complete us. But you gotta look at it this way: if one door closes, another opens.”

The guy who went by Ray nodded along with his friend. “I guess so. It’s just… what went wrong? What did I do?”

“Nothing and you should never question that. Whether you hurt Janet or not, she shouldn’t have gone out and cheated on you. You know what they say, two wrongs don’t make a right. If you did hurt her, then cheating on you shouldn’t have been an answer. If you didn’t, cheating still shouldn’t have been the answer to solving whatever problem she had with you.”

“It’s the guy that bothers me the most. Looks like a freaking Brian White but darker.”

“Kofi Siriboe.”

“Nah, Brian White. You know, the dude from Stomp the Yard? Had that cameo in Daddy’s Little Girls? Come on man, you’re an actor.”

“I know I’m an actor and I also know my actors. You said he looks like Brian White but darker. Kofi Siriboe is like Brian White but the darker version.”

“No he’s not. Where the hell do you see that?”

“Everywhere! You don’t see it in the jaw line and the eyebrow shape? If you lighten him up a bit, he’ll look like Brian.”

“Drinks gentlemen?” Victoria intervened with two cloudy glasses in her hands. She placed them in front of the new customers and folded her arms across her chest. “I couldn’t help but listen to your predicament. Once I knew what was up, I knew that a drink was needed.” Which was true; the first sentence in the conversation is what had her pause her cleaning and do the mixing of ingredients for a calssic gin fizz.

Ray nodded in an appreciative manner as he took a glass. “Thank you.”

“No problem. A heartbreak like yours calls for a little kick to get your mind off the pain for a bit.” She still held the other glass and nodded to Ray’s friend. “Drink?”

“Oh, no thanks. But thank you anyways.” he waved her off with a smile.

“Pardon me for saying this but I’m assuming you went through this type of heartbreak?” Ray sipped, eyes shifting up at Victoria.

She shook her head. “Nope. But I wish I had thought of that solution at some point. Besides, I don’t drink.” Both men raised their eyebrows at her as if to question whether she was being honest. “I know it might sound like a little white lie, but it’s true. I tried drinking once and I’ve hated it since then.”

“Then why’re you here?” Ray asked.

“Somebody’s gotta pay the bills right? This place pays well, especially the tips.” Victoria smirked.

With his hand holding the glass still, Ray managed to point one finger at her with a smirk. “I like you. Would you mind setting me up with someone for the evening?”

“Only if you promise me that I don’t have to keep making gin fizzes all day tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

Victoria placed her hands on the counter and stretched her neck to look behind Ray and his friend. Her eyes moved about the room for any female in particular that she knew would need a quick round of bedroom fun.

Her eyes landed on a black woman with locs pulled away from her face up into a bun. “You see that lady over there in the orange and white striped shirt?” Ray rotated around in his seat to see where she was directing him. “She’s pretty cool and she’s been looking for a one night stand since last month. I promised to keep an eye out for her and you seem perfect.”

Ray nodded along with her words. “Thanks.” 

“No problem. Now, go get em’ tiger!” She reached across the counter to pat him on the shoulder before he departed.

Once he disappeared into the crowd, Victoria turned back around to finish her chores. But this didn’t stop Ray’s friend from starting a conversation with her. “Hey, thanks for that.”

“Ah, it was nothing.” Victoria shrugged, placing the drinks back in their rightful spots.

“Nothing? You just set my boy up for a one night stand! That’s something I can’t do.”

“Can’t do? I promise you, I’ve seen many movies where the guy friend is successful enough to help his friend get laid for the night. How did you fail in this department?”

“I’ve lost my touch.” he admitted with a laugh and Victoria joining in. “I’m Michael, by the way.” He held out his hand for Victoria to take, which she happily did.

“Victoria.” She pulled away to finish wiping up the counters with her hand towel. “So, you must be new to this part of New York?”

“Nah, I’ve visited this part a few times while working. Ryan lives close by and suggested we come here tonight for him to talk things out. I’m glad he chose this place because a club is the last thing he needs.”

“I’ll agree with you on that.”

“How’d you know about the gin fizz though?”

“I’m not a bartender for nothing right? Obviously, I went to bartending school and they gave us some tips on the appropriate drinks to sell to customers.”

“Didn’t think things worked out for bartenders like that. I thought it was just the drinks you serve and that’s it.”

Victoria shrugged. “Well, all alcoholic beverages are different. But each one seems to have a purpose for being sold. Most drinks for heartbreak tend to be some sort of shot…”

Michael wasn’t even listening anymore. He watched her lips move as she explained the purposes of types of alcoholic beverages. His eyes caught the twitch in her lips as she tried holding back a smile for something she sounded passionate about. He thought it was cute.

“... and then there’s freaking liquor. Personally, I believe that’s for any wound. Whether it be physical or emotional. When you watch movies, the character has to be mad at the world when they pull out a thing of liq--”

“I’m sorry but when are you free?” Michael interrupted.

Victoria’s mouth was agape. “Excuse me?”

“When are you free? I know that right now you’re working, but I want to sit down and talk about this stuff with you.”

“It’s just alcohol.” she said, the statement sounding more like a question.

“It is. But, you seem intelligent when it comes to alcohol.” Michael shrugged.

“That’s not a legit reason for wanting to talk to me. It sounds ridiculous.”

“You right, you right.” Michael chuckled. “But, I want to thank you for what you’ve done tonight.” He swiveled in his seat to spot Ray and the girl hitting things off. “Ray’s like another brother of mine and when he told me about his ex, I didn’t really know what to do to cheer him up. Except talk to him but I think I would’ve made things worse at some point.”

Victoria studied Michael’s face. She could see that he cared deeply for his best friend and it warmed her heart to know all guys weren’t like Michael out there. Guys like him just wanted those close to him to be okay and not run around doing Lord knows what to hurt themselves and others.

“Um… okay.” she finally answered. Michael turned back to face her. “I’m supposed to be free right now but with the others in the back, I’m taking up their shift. Mind if I check my schedule?”

“Sure.” He reached into the side of his jeans to pull out his iPhone. “What’s your number?”

Victoria smirked before she gave him her digits. “I hope you’re not putting my number in there just to not call. I’d be wasting my time talking to you then.

“No need to worry about me Princess. I always keep my promises.” he genuinely smiled.

Tagging: @yourwonderbelle @90sinspiredgirl @artistic22dragon @mala-firebringer @teddyiam​ 

If you would like to be tagged in more of my works, comment below!

[gleitzman]

B-boys on E

It's widely known that marijuana and hip hop are inextricably linked - just turn on the radio or take your pick of MCs becoming poster-boys of weed culture. However, there's a more obscure branch of rap references dating back to the early 90's that have another target in focus: ecstasy. In December of 2000, Simon Reynolds penned an article for the webzine of London-based record label Hyperdub, which now boasts artists such as DJ Rashad, Burial, and Martyn, about the rising trend of MDMA-related references in rap lyrics.

A comprehensive look into B-boys on E, I've republished the piece below alongside a playlist of every track mentioned in the article, including a few sub-2000's tracks that came to mind. Put down the blunt and pick up the pacifier.

Hip Hop and Ecstasy - Simon Reynolds

Magazine editors have a secret formula: "two things, that's just a coincidence--but three, that's a trend". Well, here's three pieces of evidence. On "Let's Get High" from his don't-call-this-a-comeback album The Chronic 2001, Dr. Dre declares " I just took some Ecstasy/Ain't no tellin what the side effects could be". In The Wire's Christmas issue, El-P of underground hip hop outfit Company Flow listed among his 1999 highlights trying Ecstasy "for the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth time". And gangsta rappers Bone Thugs-N-Harmony's latest album BTNH Resurrection contains the song "Ecstasy," inspired by the group's recent introduction to MDMA. The chorus features some of Bone Thugs private slang for the E sensation: "I feel so 'Z'/I feel so ziggety ziggety ziggety/Cause I'm floatin' in ecstasy.." Bizzy's so impressed with the "new shit" touted by their weed dealer that he even wishes Eazy E, Bone Thugs's deceased mentor, "was here to feel pillish, pillish, pillish, pillish."

Add to this reports of thugs and bitches buzzing on E at the Tunnel (New York's most hardcore and "street" rap club), MDMA references in tracks by Jay-Z, Eminem, DJ Quik, Nas, Three-6 Mafia, and Saafir, and persistent rumors about a certain rap mogul who's got a serious Ecstasy habit, and you've got more than a trend--you've got a phenomenon: Hip Hop America Gets Loved Up. It's happened as a knock-on effect of the astonishing surge in Ecstasy use in America over the last two years, itself triggered by a return to reliable, high-dose MDMA pills thanks to Mitshubishi and the brands that followed in its wake. The New York Times reported a 450 percent increase between 1998 and 1999 in Ecstasy seizures by police and customs (which usually roughly reflect the amount of Ecstasy on sale on the streets). The United States Custom Service is projecting a 1500 percent increase from 1999 to 2000! For the first time since it was legal in the early Eighties, MDMA is popular outside the rave scene, with college students and yuppies throwing E parties. And finally, the drug has made significant inroads into the rap community.

On the face of it, Ecstasy would not appear to be a B-boy drug. MDMA lowers one's emotional defences, promotes feelings of trust and tactile tenderness, defuses aggression. It basically creates the exact opposite mind-body-soul state to rap's paranoid and paramilitary ego, all threats and boasts and psychologically armored readiness for the outbreak of hostilities. It also seems really unlikely that your typical gangsta rapper would enjoy exploring Ecstasy's androgynizing effects--the way it makes men more able to express their emotions, be cuddly and affectionate, talk to women without sex as the primary goal, find it difficult to achieve an erection or have an orgasm. These swoony Ecstasy effects would probably be experienced as traumatic not pleasurable--threatening sensations of weakness, softness, E-masculation. Hip hop's ethos of "keeping it real," its concern with reflecting hardcore street realities of crime and incarceration, also conflicts with rave's Ecstasy-fuelled positivity and utopian hope. This dark-tinted realism was a common attitude in the early jungle scene, which was highly influenced by hip hop values. For many Black British junglists, Ecstasy was "false," a chemical haze of unreality that didn't resonate with their harsh experience of urban life.

Judging by the Ecstasy-inspired lyrics that have emerged from rap so far, though, even MDMA can't teach an old dogg new tricks. The sexual attitudes haven't improved one bit. Dr. Dre's lyric about just dropping an E goes straight into "All these fine bitches equal sex to me/plus I got this bad bitch layin' next to me". In "Ecstasy", Bone MC Flesh rhymes about "feelin’ hot and exotic with an arced cock/ I'm feelin' too sexy for my muthafuckin self/Gotta find my bitch and I’m gonna fuck her ass to death!". There are stories floating around about major ballers and shot-callers in the rap industry who throw parties at their mansions in the Hamptons (an expensive Long Island summer home area favored by Manhattan's wealthy and famous) where Ecstasy is primarily used to get the ladies "in the mood" for multiple-partner sex. As for the violence in rap lyrics, rhymes about guns and murda have not been replaced by spiritualized Ecstasy babble about P.L.U.R. (the American raver's mantra of "peace, love, unity and respect"). Unlike with Britain's reformed football hooligans during 1988's Summer of Love, we've yet to see the emergence of the "love thug" in hardcore hip hop. Perhaps the behavioral codes are too ingrained for rave's smiley-face to replace rap's "screwface"--the menacing scowl-sneer that signifies hip hop culture's taboo on showing your teeth.

Then again, it's early days yet, and Ecstasy is such a powerful drug that it's certain to have some affects on hip hop, both as a culture and as a music. Although jungle eventually adopted an anti-Ecstasy stance (favoring the "organic", herbal highs of marijuana over "chemicals"), as a form of music it could not have existed without its precursor genre, 1991-92 hardcore rave--whose sped up breakbeats and manic barrage of samples were basically "hip hop on E," rather than a mutant form of techno. Add Ecstasy to hip hop again, and the results could be as revolutionary as the emergence of jungle out of rave. Whether as a result of Ecstasy use or just an eerily prophetic prelude, there's been a flood of rap and R&B tracks that feature techno-like sounds and riffs over the last eighteen months: Ja Rule's "Holla Holla" with its snaking, writhing riff that sounds like nothing so much as a Roland 303 acid bassline; the staccato rave-style stabs in Destiny's Child's "Bugaboo," Ginuwine's "What's So Different," and Jay-Z's "Girls' Best Friend"; the house vamps and techno pulses in countless Cash Money tracks by Juvenile, B.G., Hot Boys and Lil Wayne, all produced by Mannie Fresh (who actually worked with Steve 'Silk' Hurley a decade ago).

Most recently Timbaland, who's talked about his fondness for electronica and groups like The Prodigy, has produced three tracks that positively drip with the influence of European Ecstasy culture, if not E itself. Aaliyah's smash hit "Try Again" rolls on a burbling Roland 303; the dirge-bass riff on Jay-Z's "Snoopy Track" makes it a rap "Dominator" or "Mentasm"; Nas featuring Ginuwine's "You Owe Me" has the slinky, lurching flow of 2-step garage. Indeed two-step ought to be the logical bridge between American "urban" (radio programmer code for black) music and house culture, since it is basically UK rave embracing and absorbing US R&B. 2-step garage is where the musical advances made during 10 years of collectively living at the cutting edge of rave's drug-technology interface ("caning it", in plain English slanguage) are now being folded back into the humanist, hypersexual pop sounds that ravers originally broke with to pursue manic sexless drug-noise (starting with acid house). As such 2-step could function for black Americans as a journey in the opposite direction, an acclimatisation phase before they get into Plastikman, Basement Jaxx, or The Mover. (Well, one can only dream, eh?). Actually, Armand Van Helden has been trying singlehandedly to be that demilitarized zone/interface between hip hop and house (he's obsessed with 1989 hip-house as this lost moment of possibility) but so far with zero impact in the US. His B-boy flirtations have even counted against him in the world of American deep house, where they don't want ruffnecks coming to the party (forgiveably, perhaps, given the rampant homophobia in hip hop). House music creeps in through the back door of Lil' Kim's new album The Notorious K.I.M., with tracks based on "French Kiss" by Lil Louis and "Break 4 Love' by Raze, and a pronounced Daft Punk-y flavor to "How Many Licks?"

Finally, OutKast's late 2000 release Stankovia is the first real hip hop example, overt and acknowledged by its creators, of a marked influence from rave music and Ecstasy. Big Boi and Andre 3000 go to raves in the Atlanta, Georgia area and even did field research in London clubs. They gave Stankonia faster b.p.m's than its easy-rolling predecessor Aquemini because "nowadays you got different drugs on the scene. X done hit the hood. It ain't chronic no more. They on some other speed-up type shit.... so that's why the tempo had to get a lot faster." The single "Bombs Over Baghdad" makes a botched if exciting stab at drum'n'bass (they're big fans of Photek) while "?" is a disorientating foray into the jungle: tangled breaks, chirruping synth-blurts, ravey riff-lets.

With the E'd up thugs and thuggettes reputedly drifting from the main floor of the Tunnel into the smaller house'n'techno room that it (god knows why) offers, it could be that the hip hop nation will turn onto electronic dance music big-time, finally ending rap's contempt for house music as mere gay disco. Sonically, the differences between the two forms of music have never been smaller---for instance, both techno and rap have been influenced recently by a revival of interest in Eighties electro. As for the drug's cultural impact.... Ecstasy's "loved up" vibe fits perfectly with hip hop's endless professions of loyalty for the crew, family, click, posse. E will only exaggerate this aspect of blood-brother solidarity and "thug love". But what about the hate side of rap's soul? Can Ecstasy lead to a truce in rap's symbolic warfare? Will "call-that-a-worldview?" couplets like "all I know is that bitches suck dick and niggas bleed" (The Lox) lose their appeal to hearts that no longer feel hard? What can be said safely is that Ecstasy had seemed like a drug that held no more surprises in terms of its cultural effects, given that the clubbing-and-raving industries efficiently channel the energy it catalyzes into tidy profits (eg Gatecrasher, whose slogan is "Market Leaders In Having-It Right Off Leisure Ware"--they might as well just put "Sponsored By Mitshubishi, Nudge Nudge Wink Wink" on the ads). But now that the drug has found its way to one of the few demographic and subcultural zones it had so far left untouched---African-American youth---it could be that Ecstasy has new tricks up its sleeves, new stories to tell, new revolutions to unfurl. (Just wait 'til it hits the dancehall community in Jamaica). Watch this space.....