#revolt digression

[cliozaur]

As promised, Hugo reconstructs the details of the June revolt. And as always, he briefly mentions cholera as a minor episode that hampered the revolt (which was not true, as it was an important factor). Hugo is not very adept at summarizing the causes of the insurrection, but he excels in the anthropology of the event itself.

It’s curious that Marius was so disinterested in General Lamarque, even though this man’s carrier was so reminiscent of Marius’ father military carrier. But let’s accept that Marius was not paying attention to anything due to his love adventures.

When reconstructing the events of the 5th of June, Hugo slows down the time, allowing us to observe what is happening hour by hour. It’s almost an immersive experience! It’s so cool. We move along with the crowd through the streets of Paris, and I appreciate that it is even possible to map the route of the procession step by step. While moving, we hear the snippets of dialogue between workers who are ready for action. And then we hear some gossip in the crowd. I like how Hugo builds up the tension, which reaches apex by the penultimate paragraph. And then it begins! Both sides engaged in what they came here for: the fight and the confrontation starts.

[whsprings]

.

[quatregats]

Okay I will say another point in favor of this movie (which is perhaps a more concise albeit slightly tangential version of what I was saying earlier) is that it does a great job of showing that institutions are ultimately just people, rather than painting any of them as a faceless entity of good or evil

[maniculum]

Pinned Post, or, What Is This Blog Exactly?

Given the recent influx of new followers, I figure I had better make us a pinned post so people know who we are and what we're doing. Because, as much as I enjoy just posting whatever, this is a podcast account and people should know that. Especially if they like weird medieval stuff, as that is our whole deal.

The Maniculum, available wherever you normally get your podcasts, is a show where we read medieval literature, make jokes about it, and then suggest ways to adapt it into TTRPG material (or other forms of storytelling). We try to pick especially strange medieval texts, most of which you would be unlikely to come across in your typical medieval-lit survey course, though we have done a few well-known ones (most notably our series on Egil’s Saga).

It’s hosted by Zoe and Mac. (This is Mac typing now; I do most of the Tumblr posting. Zoe sometimes posts as @meanderingmedievalist.) Both of us are medievalists with like degrees and stuff, so we at least kind of know what we’re talking about when we discuss medieval literature. Mac has a Ph.D in English Language & Linguistics and currently teaches introductory writing at An Unspecified University. Zoe has an M.Phil in Medieval Studies and works as a professional game designer – she did narrative design on Pentiment, if you’re familiar with it.

The general structure of the podcast is that one of us (we take turns) chooses a text and reads / paraphrases / summarizes it for the other, who responds to it with comments & questions & jokes & digressive tangents. Then we close with a series of segments where we pull interesting features, ideas, etc. from the text for potential use in your TTRPG / storytelling projects.

If you want to check out the show but don’t want to start at the beginning where you have to listen to us figure out what we’re doing (the audio on the first handful of episodes is a bit rough, for instance), here are some suggestions:

Our 2022 Halloween special (link here), where we read a selection of medieval stories about undead creatures.

An episode (link here) about the dragon Fafnir and the famous slaying thereof.

The Story of King Constant (link here), a fairly short and obscure tale from medieval France. (The episode is still a normal length; the story is short enough that the full text fits comfortably into a single episode with no summarizing needed.) I include this one because I feel it’s a good self-contained representation of what we do.

The first episode (link here) of our two-parter on the Peasants’ Revolt, released to commemorate May Day 2023.

Lanval (link here), one of the most widely known stories by Marie de France. This is also good as a self-contained episode, and it's a story that may be familiar to you already.

And if you want to jump into a series:

The first episode (link here) of our seven-part series on the highly-regarded Icelandic text Egil’s Saga, about a Viking warrior-poet who is also kind of a dick.

The first episode (link here) of our ten-part series on Perlesvaus – our longest series on a single text so far, wherein we work through what might be the weirdest Arthurian romance out there.

If this just popped up on your dash, sorry for the long self-promotional post. Hope you come check us out. New episodes every other week.

[elwenyere]

hey! this is more of a general question, do you have any book recommendations for someone who wants to start writing and get a better handle on language? if that’s too silly of a question, can you maybe just list your favorite novels/non-fiction books that influenced your writing? :)

Hello Anon! Thank you so much for this great ask: I think reading is an essential part of growing as a writer, and when I'm feeling blocked or dry or burned out, there are very few things that refresh my mind like spending time with beautiful, startling, upsetting, moving prose and poetry.

If you'll permit a momentary digression, I think one of the key parts of reading like a writer, no matter what the text, is to develop your sense of what you can pay attention to, in order to understand what the language is doing and how:

What effect is the text having on me? Is it disorienting me or producing a sudden sense of clarity? Revolting me or seeking to attract me? Asking me to make a connection or to draw a distinction? Drawing me in for a closer inspection or obscuring something in distance? Cultivating intimacy or refusing disclosure?

How is the text doing that? Through the way words are used (familiar or unusual, concrete or abstract)? The way sentences are put together and sequenced? The way the narration shifts (from a close focalization to a distant one, from present to past, from a blow-by-blow account to a summary)?

These are questions that help deepen textual analysis, and they can also be used to enhance your ability to riff on what other authors do that you dig - like disassembling a machine to see how the parts fit together, so that when you build your own, you have a wider array of components to draw from and functions to employ.

Beyond that, which texts scratch our brains in the most inspiring way probably depends on a number of things - like taste and prior exposure and what styles open up a new way of looking at the stories you need to tell - so your mileage may vary. But here is a non-exhaustive list of texts that have taught me something about various aspects of craft (revision, setting, plotting, narration, etc.). I've tried to pick some different options than the ones in this list from a while ago, but feel free to check those out as well!

Kiese Laymon, Heavy: a memoir that combines gorgeous writing in its own right with incredibly compelling reflections on revision and the work of memory. I love the way Laymon talks about revisiting and rearranging words as a way to revisit and rearrange thought patterns.

Patricia Lockwood, "Malfunctioning Sex Robot": Lockwood (of Miette internet fame) is one of the funniest people alive, and this review essay (about John Updike's writing) is one of the most remarkable examples I've seen of joining uncompromising clarity with capacious generosity in reflecting on another author's work.

Tracy K. Smith, Life on Mars: Smith described this poetry collection as an elegy for her father, who worked on the Hubble Telescope, and it also explores how we represent/picture space in other forms (in the family home, in racial segregation, in the sci-fi cultural imaginary). I love the way the poems play with scale and the way they mix kitschy particulars with existential abstraction.

Jorge Luis Borges, Ficciones: Borges collections are master classes in what stories can do, in part because they are often meta-explorations of storytelling (like a review of an imaginary book or the description of an infinite library), informed by the incredible amount of literature Borges read. Layered, allusive, and genre-bending, each story is like trying to see language with an extra dimension.

Ling Ma, Severance: a fascinating novel in many ways, including a non-linear plot, an uncannily prescient speculative premise, and a deliberately elusive narrator, Candace, about whom I change my mind every time I reread. Ma creates one of my favorite examples of what sometimes gets called "an unreliable narrator," and a strong contrast to the omniscient style in the next entry.

George Eliot, Middlemarch: in my heart of hearts, the greatest novel ever written. There's so much to admire in Eliot, but in terms of narration in particular - and the narrator's movement from tracing the contours of a particular fictional mind to knitting together reflections on the web of human connections - she has very few peers.

I hope this post is helpful, Anon! Thank you again for the wonderful ask, and happy reading/writing. <3

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

Kuroshitsuji

and Radetzky March

Every New Year’s Day, it is a tradition that the Viennese Philharmonic Orchestra plays this staple public favourite to end their performance. The concert is televised in more than 90 countries. Last year, they began to stream it on the internet, which one can watch for free in five days.

Seiji Ozawa conducting, 2002

Anyway, since I’ve become interested in Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler it is thrilling to find out that Yana Toboso included it on her story. Will the song be incorporated into the Public School arc in April? I’d love to see and hear Sebastian Michaelis as the maestro conducting it.

Now, it is true that it is a patriotic song. And the history behind it is bloody. The melody is very happy for sure, as if you’ve come out from the battle/war unscathed. Victorious, yes. Who wouldn’t be? No wonder, Sebastian loves it. It also has the same cadence like the heartbeat.

A background: Strauss the Father composed it for the Count Joseph Radetzky von Radetz. It is to commemorate his regiment’s advancing to Northern Italy. One time listening to our tour guide in Venice, she mentioned this part of history to us, she showed us the cannons they retrieved from the Austrian army, which fired and destroyed their buildings indiscriminately during the bloody days of 1848. Those states made up of the Austrian-Hungary Empire that wanted their freedom so much but the emperor sent his troops instead to stop these revolts from happening. One Venetian hotel that survived the bombing incorporated the cannonballs to its building as a reminder of the centuries past.

Some Austrian historians believe it is time to “cancel” the song or rather remove the song from the yearly Neujahrskonzert. The yearly traditional concert has a few problems. But not this song. One of them is the lack of female conductors leading the orchestra. Whereas Ricardo Mutti, an Italian maestro, will reportedly lead the concert again next year for the, get this, seventh time!!!

It was only in 2002 when they let the late Japanese conductor Seiji Ozawa, the first ever Asian, to lead the orchestra and received standing ovation after playing the staple ending song of Radetzky March.

It is very important to remember the past and learn from it. Austria, once an empire, knows it very well, to be stripped of the lands and power it once willed. But in some aspects they learned the lesson. Not all, but most. Thing is, removing this song from the yearly concert feels like something is lacking. Also, I don’t think it would solve the issue of the Austrian philharmonic orchestra where it is dominated by male musicians.

I digress.

Am curious of Yana T’s connection to it. I would really love to know if she watches the televised concert every New Year’s Day. Or did she choose it specifically bc of popularity or the history. Or the melody.

[cliozaur]

If you think that definitions can be neutral, this chapter by M. Hugo proves you wrong. He is quite manipulative here. According to him, all uprisings are wrong, and all insurrections are right. This chapter elaborates his negative view of jacqueries, which he expressed in one of the previous digressions. However, some of his examples encounter issues. In fact, whether an event is deemed ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ appears to hinge on its success. This is why an uprising can be condemned as “the most fatal of crimes.” Hugo also claims that if you obstruct Progress (as brought by ‘civilized’ white Europeans to remote, untamed lands), you are a rioter and in the wrong. And it’s quite infuriating.

When it comes to defining the events of June 1832, Hugo becomes extremely manipulative. Although the event evidently aligns with his definition of an uprising, he still considers it an insurrection: “even those who see in it only an uprising, never refer to it otherwise than with respect.” He believes he can prove his point by bringing new facts and evidence to light. But I hate to ask: wouldn’t this strategy work for other uprisings as well? Shouldn’t we give them a chance to prove they were right as well? No answer.

[pattern-recognition]

Good starting points for socialist reading? Detailed medium form summaries? Skeptic debate between various forms, and between other theoretical systems? Please do recommend

For introductory texts, start with the basics. That means starting with the foundation laid out by Marx and Engels themselves, not some abridged text or modern compilation that seeks to re-explain scientific socialism out of a lack of agency for the modern reader (though some of these type are good, but I digress.)

For this i’d recommend:

- Marx, Engels. The Communist Manifesto (obviously)

- Engels. Socialism: Utopian and Scientific

- Marx, Engels. Wage-Labour and Capital/Value, Price, and Profit

The above three are very short, succinct, and informative. The latter two are woefully unrecognized as ideal texts for introductory socialism, and they were written for that explicit purpose.

After that, move on to more wholistic works that flesh out and elaborate upon the historical, material, circumstances that gave rise to the capitalist epoch and how and why they furnish the future conditions for a socialist system.

- Engels. Origin of the Family, State, and Private Property (Whatever copy you’ll procure will probably include his complimentary essay, The Part Played by Labour in the Transition from Ape to Man, which isn’t hugely beneficial for most discursive purposes but interesting, nonetheless.)

- Lenin. The State and Revolution

- Bukharin. Historical Materialism - A System of Sociology

All of Engels’ work, from his introductions to Marx’s texts, his input on the former, and his original treatises, are a wealth of information.

After the structure of dialectical materialism and the capitalist system are understood, I’d recommend works on how the former can/should be implemented and the latter’s historical reign of misery, as well as works addressing the pressing contradiction of imperialism and core-periphery subjugation. (You won’t find vocabulary like core/periphery/semi periphery in texts like this though, that wouldn’t come about until Immanuel Wallerstein outlined the World Systems Theory in his eponymous book. It’s not strictly a historical materialist work, and made by a bourgeois academic (who was the sociology professor of my sociology professor, which is fun I suppose) but is formative for much of contemporary sociological discourse).

- Lenin. Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism

- Lenin. What is to Be Done?

- Galeano. Open Viens of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent

- Said. Orientalism

Along the way, I strongly suggest you actually read Marx’s Capital in full, at least the first volume. It’s not as monolithic and inaccessible as some would lead you to believe, quite the opposite, and cannot be understated in its utility and insight.

- Marx. Capital: A Critique of the Political Economy, Volume I

Other recommendations:

- Marx. Critique of the Gotha Programme

- Marx. The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte

- Bevins. The Jakarta Method: Washington's Anticommunist Crusade and the Mass Murder Program that Shaped Our World

- Bevins. If We Burn: The Mass Protest Decade and the Missing Revolution

- Lenin. Critical Remarks on the National Question (1913) (Also, can be found in the recent compilation of Lenin’s work on the subject called Imperialism and the National Question)

- Debord. The Society if the Spectacle

- Benjamin. The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction

- Mishra. From the Ruins of Empire: The Revolt Against the West and the Remaking of Asia

Truth be told, I’m a grievously under-read marxist, and there are others on this site who could provide a more comprehensive syllabus. To half-assedly make up for it, here are some books i’ve been meaning to read/finish but haven’t gotten to it yet:

- Adorno, Horkheimer. Dialect of Enlightenment

- Marx. Capital, Volumes 2 and 3

- Strong. The Soviets Expected It

- Adorno, Bernstein. The Culture Industry

- Adorno. Minima Moralia

- Mao. On the Correct Handling of Contradictions Among the People

- Mao. On Protracted War

All of the aforementioned reading can be found online, for free and readily accessible, on places like Marxists.org, or as downloads from places like Libgen. If you want to read on your phone, download the file as an epub and use your device’s proprietary Books app or similar. If you want to read on a PC, I’d recommend a PDF for easiest navigation. If you want to pursue the latter but can only procure the former, you can use a epub reading program like SumatraPDF. If you’re a person who values a physical copy highly enough to warrant a purchase, I’d recommend ThriftBooks, though do be attentive to buying the most suitable copy of whatever material. Also, I’d be happy to send my copies to you or anyone else, via a google drive or telegram, if you feel like coming off anon.

As for “skeptic debate between various forms, and between various systems,” I can’t think of a standalone work with the principle task of dissecting and contrasting various stripes of marxism, but you’ll find as such permeating throughout almost all of these texts. The thing is, the fundamental material conditions haven’t shifted substantially since these were written, wether it be in Marx’s 19th century, Lenin’s 20th, or Bevins’ 21st. The old enemies remain enemies, the old arguments remain true. Dialectical materialism, scientific socialism, is a malleable system. It is a scientific method by which one can analyze the world, understand it with rational clarity, and come to conclusions on how to react to it and make predictions as to how things may unfold. This is the task assigned to any student of marxism. It is not dogma or a ecclesiastical canon, it is a tool.

After you’ve garnered your bachelor’s degree in scientific socialism you can move on to the postgraduate courses, such as chainsmoking cigarettes, caffeine and amphetamine addiction, alcoholism, and playing Disco Elysium.

[misc-obeyme]

Can we talk about Solomon...? Tbh in the OG obey me game i never found him interesting, that is until Nightbringer came out. He feels much more fleshed out here, and i think it's cute that both Solomon and MC share a living space together as if they're married.

I also find it very interesting that Solomon is based on the REAL King Solomon of Israel. There's so much lore surrounding him, and i find it kinda sad that the devs don't use it to their full potential to the plot. Of course, they make references here and there, plus his pacts with Barbatos and asmodeus, but i feel like they could do much more?

Can we talk about how biblical lore, King Solomon, also had (foreign) 700 wives and 300 concubines, and his greatest sin was in building temples for the gods that his wives worshipped Young Solomon is a playboy xD even though i'm sure he married all of those women for power, so it's more likely not out of love but more political expediency? and apparently, "his wives turned his heart after other gods” (Kings 11:4), and thus, he built shrines to the gods of their religions. In the biblical account of his reign, God tells Solomon he will punish him for his apostasy by breaking up his kingdom after his death. Seeing how Solomon is still alive in the Obey me universe, that would mean he had to witness his kingdom being split into two kingdoms (The people revolted against heavy taxes levied by Solomon and his son, Rehoboam). He also probably had to watch many people he truly cared about pass away. (Do you remember that one Gif in the OG Obey me that he was crying in front of a grave??)

BUT, as I mentioned before, since he had many wives, naturally, he had children as well. The documented children of his were Rehoboam, Menelik I, Taphath, and Basemath.

So maybe the reason why the devs didn't mention this might be because fans might get jealous? Seeing how many were upset when Thirteen (the first female character) was announced because they were threatened that she might be stealing the boys, I can see why they didn't include that information.

-Angsty Anon

It does seem like more people are enjoying Solomon since Nightbringer! In fact, the fic I wrote about Solomon shortly after NB came out was the first time one of my fics really took off - it got so many notes in the first day or so and I was so confused lol.

Anyway, I personally started to really enjoy Solomon's character in season three of the OG, but they definitely made him more prominent in NB! And of course I loved that he and MC were living together... it was so cute, nearly all my Solomon centered fics after that are about them in Cocytus Hall.

As for the Biblical lore, I can guarantee you it had everything to do with not wanting any of the love interests to have had any wives in their past. Of course, they don't explicitly say as much, so I think you could headcanon that Solomon still had all his 700 wives and 300 concubines.

I also think they don't go too heavy on the Biblical stuff for the reason of not wanting to offend people who actually believe in this as a religion. I think there's probably only so much you can really use if you want it to stay somewhat neutral in that regard.

By only loosely basing Solomon on the real King Solomon, they give themselves the space to do whatever they want with his character. They're not as bound by the source material. So they only pick and choose the parts they want to include.

I think they do this for the entire story, honestly, not just Solomon. For instance, who is Diavolo even supposed to be? I always thought he was supposed to be kind of a stand in for "the Devil" you know?

But anyway, I digress.

I think they kind of completely rewrote Solomon's past. Considering how he was said to be locked up in a basement as a child, after which he was brought to the Fountain of Knowledge by Barbatos... so when was he actually King? Perhaps after that? And maybe it was then that he would have had all the wives and such?

I definitely remember that particular gif... I made everybody upset when I suggested that it was MC's grave he was crying at lol. Sorry, guys.

But it could just as easily be a wife he actually loved or one of his sons. (Though how is it he only has four sons when he has 700 wives and 300 concubines?? I don't know anything about Bible stuff lol perhaps these are just the ones with names??)

Anyway, I'm fairly certain that people wouldn't like him to have all those wives and concubines. Maybe one wife could be handled, you know, because she'd obviously have been dead for a long time. But I dunno. People get jealous over the idea that Solomon was Lilith's lover, too. So probably best for the game if they just don't go there at all lol.

I do think it would be interesting if they introduced another demon that he happens to have a pact with. We never see any of the others, but I suppose that's more about a lack of space... it's not like they can add 70 characters... in fact, I take it back I am glad they've kept it to the two we have, no more are needed, thanks!

[pilferingapples]

LM 4.10.1 The Surface of the Question

Of what is revolt composed? Of nothing and of everything. Of an electricity disengaged, little by little, of a flame suddenly darting forth, of a wandering force, of a passing breath. This breath encounters heads which speak, brains which dream, souls which suffer, passions which burn, wretchedness which howls, and bears them away.

HERE WE GOOOOOoooooh wait what

 there is no question of anything but effect, we seek the cause. We will be explicit.

oh that sounds like one more Digression

... IN FOUR MORE CHAPTERS HERE WE GOOOOO

[ebongawk]

If you're still doing the prompts, #8 “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

8. "Looks like we'll be trapped for awhile..."

"Shit."

They were pulled over on the side of the road, staring through the windshield at the torrential downpour that was beating down on the road, small pellets of water dinging methodically against the thick metal roof of the van.

The van. Chrissy couldn't believe he still had it. That it was still running.

"Well. Christ. Y'know, Sheila's fucking incredible, but she's not making it through this," Eddie said, gesturing out the window. "Unfortunately I, uh, haven't had time to, like, install an emergency flotation device or anything."

Despite herself – despite the circumstances – Chrissy couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from her chest.

"No, I suppose you've probably been pretty busy," Chrissy supplied around a grin. "All that time spent being a rockstar."

"Hey!" Eddie yelped, turning toward her and pointing a finger in her face that she desperately wanted to bite. "I prefer rock artist." Chrissy snorted, making Eddie grin broadly. "Besides. We haven't, y'know, hit it that big."

"Oh, bullshit." Chrissy rolled her eyes. "I'm sitting next to a guy who just opened for Pantera. Pantera. And you haven't 'hit it that big'? Please."

"Yeah, but Pantera is the band that opened for Metallica, so really we were the opening band of the opening band," Eddie corrected. "There's a difference."

"It was a metal festival."

"I digress!"

"I'm not used to you being so humble."

"Yeah, well," Eddie shrugged. "It's, uh. It's been awhile, hasn't it, Cunningham?"

That stung. An old hurt, immediately flaming back to life. Like dying embers that just need the slightest breeze to erupt back into the inferno they once were. Destructive and terrible and beautiful.

Because all that hurt, all that pain, it was beautiful. It reminded her, every time she poked the bruise in an attempt to sustain the ache, just how much they loved each other.

How much she loves him still.

"We just talked on the phone a week ago," she reminded him, like he didn't know. It was their conversation that had her at his show that night, the promise of tickets and backstage passes trying to tempt her into watching him perform.

Like she hadn't already bought her own tickets months prior. Tickets she'd sold (and made a slight profit off of, which she hasn't told Eddie yet, but she knows he'll be so proud.)

"Phone calls don't do all of my personal growth justice!" Eddie fired back, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning more fully toward her. "So, uh. Looks like we're gonna be trapped for awhile... You're, y'know, more than welcome to hang out up here, but I'm gonna stretch out in back, lest my knees try and revolt against me."

Chrissy laughed, unbuckling her own seatbelt and watching as Eddie awkwardly finagled his way between the front seats, tumbling into the back with a grunt and nearly kicking the gear shift. Shrieking, Chrissy slipped between the seats herself to make sure he was alright. Once she verified that he did not, in fact, give himself a concussion (again), she took stock of the back hatch of his old van with a fondness that seemed desperate to rip itself out of her chest. To slink across the space between them and reclaim its home beside his heart.

A home it no longer had access to.

"No gear?"

"Nah," Eddie shrugged, reaching behind a gray lidded tote and producing a veritable nest of blankets and pillows. "Guys have space for that shit on the tour bus."

"How come you're not on the tour bus?" Chrissy asked, watching raptly as Eddie began arranging the mountain of cotton into something more comfortable.

Eddie laughed, glancing over his shoulder at her like he couldn't believe her question. "Because I knew I'd be driving you home, Cunningham. You don't like to drive at night." He punctuated his statement with a little duh like those sixteen words, strung together in that way, hadn't ripped the heart straight from her chest.

Unbidden tears sprang into her eyes that Chrissy tried desperately to blink away. It didn't mean anything. It didn't. Because it couldn't. Because, despite the fact that she was completely, hopelessly in love with him, he'd left to go on tour nearly two years ago, and they'd mutually ended their relationship. She couldn't go with him – she was in her junior year of college, buried up to her neck in homework and projects and research, and Eddie was just beginning to make the name for himself that he'd always deserved.

She wouldn't hold him back from his dreams. And she knew, if she'd asked him to stay back then, he would have.

He would have done anything for her.

But she couldn't let him ruin that chance to taste the life he'd been dreaming about since long before he met her. Even if the three years they spent together were the absolute best, most happiest of her life, and she'd basically been a walking scarecrow since – but instead of searching for a brain, she'd been on the hunt for the heart he'd unintentionally packed away in his guitar case.

"Whoa, hey, Cunningham, you alright?" Eddie asked worriedly, immediately clocking the change in her demeanor. He was always so fucking good at that. At looking at her and just... knowing.

It was how they got together in the first place.

Eddie had never put on some big display for her. He'd never announced to their entire school that he loved her, never shown up at her home with dozens and dozens of roses and proclaimed his affection in front of her parents, like the boy she'd been dating before him.

As dramatic and insane and impulsive as he could be, Eddie always loved her subtly. Quietly, warmly, wholly. Fitting around her shoulders like a favorite sweater. Filling her like a favorite meal, relaxing her like a bath with her favorite soaps and oils.

He was her favorite everything.

And then he was gone.

He still called. In the beginning, it was nearly every night. Telling her how crazy and wild it was out on the road. How the record label had them in various recording studios in whatever city they were playing, putting together a second album as they toured their first. But the long distance fees stacked up quick, and they'd shaved their calls down to once a week.

It had maintained them for the last two years.

It would never be enough.

"I'm fine," she lied, giving him the best grin she could muster. Eddie looked at her, saw her, like her skin was made of glass and he could see right down to the very soul buried beneath sinew and bone. The one that still hummed a steady song that sounded suspiciously like his name.

He was quiet for a long, drawn minute, finishing his primping of the little blanket bed he'd built before turning fully toward her. Studying her appraisingly, like the outfit she'd picked out just for him and his show had been discarded out the window miles ago.

"I thought we didn't do that."

"Do what?"

"Lie to each other."

Chrissy couldn't help it – she laughed. She laughed long, and hard, and so much that she didn't even realize her laughter had turned into sobbing until she was wrapped in his arms and resting fully in the blanket nest.

Because they didn't. They didn't lie to each other – ever. That was one of the unspoken rules they'd established at the beginning of their relationship, when Eddie realized just how much she'd been hiding under plastic smiles and makeup and mental shields made of rusted metal and nails.

They didn't lie to each other.

Except she'd been lying to him every single day for the last eight hundred and sixty three days, because she'd spent every single second of every single minute pretending she didn't miss him with every fiber of her being.

"I-I-I tried, Eddie, I tried," she wailed, burying her face in the familiarity of his neck. Picking up the sweat and spice that always accompanied him after a show, each inhale making her heart flutter valiantly in her chest. "You said we'd b-be friends. You said to move on and be happy and I tried, I swear, but the–– God, Eddie, I went on one date, and he tried to kiss me at the end, and I almost threw up all over his nice loafers!"

A chuckle that reverberated from her crown where his lips were pressed and echoed through the hollow caverns of her bones, filling her with a tiny droplet of the fountain of joy she'd once known.

Back when she was his.

"I mean, your first mistake was going out with someone who wore loafers."

"Eddie."

"I mean, jeez, sweetness, I thought I taught you more self respect than that."

Oh, God, that pet name. It tore at the tiny shreds of her that still remained, sinking claws into the curves and valleys of her flesh that she was just beginning to recognize in the mirror again.

But, even despite his jesting, she could feel the way his arms tightened around her. The way his breathing picked up, his shoulders hitching and relaxing as he buried his face in her hair.

"Me, too," he said.

"What?"

"I tried, too." His voice was just next to her ear. Muffled by the rain still beating away outside and the position of his lips against her skull. "Couple times. Even invited one girl out on a second date. But. It was like, the moment any of them tried to touch me, I wanted to jump out of my own skin, and then launch that skin out the goddamn window." He shrugged, fingertips digging into the cage of her ribs like he could embed his fingerprints straight into her flesh. Tattoo a part of him on her. "I guess, I dunno. Once you taste perfection, how are you ever supposed to get a hit anywhere else, right?"

The tears hadn't stopped, but they'd slowed some. Falling down her cheeks in a gentle drizzle, instead of trying to outmatch the downpour outside the van. Chrissy turned, climbing to her knees and bracketing them outside of his hips. Resting in his lap and holding him with all the might he held her.

"I missed you," she breathed, her lips gliding against his neck. "I missed you, and I miss you, and I'm gonna miss you so much when you leave tomorrow."

The wet of his tears dripped against her shoulder, and Chrissy just held him tighter.

"What if I didn't go?" he rasped, his voice as broken as the splintered edges of her body where he fit so perfectly, once upon a time. "What if I just stayed?"

"But it's your dream––"

"It was my dream," he corrected. "It really, really was. And then I lived it, and you... Christ. Everything was so fucking dull when you weren't there, sweetness. Like, how am I supposed to see the glamorous color of fame when my entire fucking life has been black and white since I left you here?"

Chrissy understood all too well what he meant.

So often, so many times, she'd considered dropping out of school just to follow him on his tour. And then, when she'd graduated, the clear absence of Eddie in the crowd had completely eclipsed her excitement of holding her degree. She'd gone home to the dingy studio apartment – the apartment they'd shared, once upon a time. The apartment she couldn't bring herself to leave. And she'd ordered herself a pizza with all of Eddie's favorite toppings, like that might convince some part of her that he was still around.

And now she was doing it. She was living her own dream of editing novels, having worked hard to get a promotion from an intern doing magazine editorials. And she loved it. She loved her work, the care and concentration that went into it. The open line of communication to her authors, the relationships she'd established in her short year.

But it was still empty.

Empty enough that the next words that came from her mouth, though spoken outside of thought, seemed unbearably right.

"What if I came with you?"

Beneath her, around her, Eddie stiffened. Fingers digging hard enough into her sides that she hoped desperately he left bruises. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved back, blinking up at her in the dim, wavering light of the streetlamp they were parked beneath and giving her the most earnest, beseeching look she'd ever seen.

"What?"

"What if I came with you?" she repeated. "I... I mean, I think I could. I think I could get them to mail my projects to wherever we were staying. I... And, even if they can't, I mean... What if I did anyway?"

"I won't let you throw your life away––"

"I'm not," Chrissy protested immediately. "I'm absolutely not. This is my choice, Eddie. Mine." A moment of hesitation, of self-doubt, and Chrissy stuttered, "O-Only if you, um. Only if you want me, though."

Eddie's forehead fell against hers as a laugh burst from his throat, kissing its way across her lips and reminding her of every single thing she'd spent the last two years missing. The last two years craving. And hoping and praying for. And desperately, desperately needing.

"Sweetness," he murmured, one of his hands gently cupping her cheek. "There's not a goddamn universe in existence where I don't want you."

And then––

He kissed her.

And it tasted every single moment of the future she didn't know she'd been striving toward.

[courtneysmovieblog]

A wild and crazy "Saturday Night"

It's been about 50 years since the first episode of SNL, and by all accounts, nobody was sure the show would make it. One such account is the recently released Saturday Night, a docudrama of the 90 minutes that took place for the show went on air.

This movie is not your standard biopic. If you're looking for a deeper look at the likes of Lorne Michaels, John Belushi, or Gilda Radner, you'll be disappointed. However, it does give you a feel of the chaos that was going on backstage, even though most of the depicted events were either exaggerated or didn't happen at all.

It's evident that Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) had to deal with a lot right before showtime. John Belushi (Matt Wood) hadn't signed his contract yet. The writers were either stoned or revolting against the NBC censors. Jim Henson (Nicholas Braun) was being treated like crap by everyone. And the studio executive (Willem Dafoe) is ready to pull the plug.

While most of the performances seem like nothing more than a very good impression, there are some standouts. Dylan O'Brien nails Dan Aykroyd, and Lamorne Morris is fantastic as Garrett Morris, who was probably the most overqualified and overlooked Not-Ready-For-Primetime Player. Wood's Belushi was criminally underused. Even though the movie plays up his negative traits, it's still a better portrayal than Wired. Maybe one of these days we'll finally get the Belushi biopic we deserve. But I digress...

If nothing else, Jason Reitman captures the frantic, fast-paced chaos of SNL while paying tribute to the classic skits that were in gestation. And die-hard SNL fans will love it for that.

8 out of 10

[merrysithmas]

Thoughts on the fact we're getting a lando series 💀

I REALLY LIKED the SOLO movie and I thought it was EASILY Disney's best Star Wars project before Andor. It had a charismatic cast, a great atmosphere, beautiful set design, a compelling arc for Han, and a great set up for a followup project - but Disney went apeshit after it lost money and blacklisted it for NO reason, not understanding it was the Sequels & how they demolished Luke Skywalker which angered fans... not Solo.

[which also could have been easily fixed as the next movie was called The RISE of Skywalker and the most powerful Jedi of his age Luke couldve, with practically no effort, literally... been resurrected, but I digress]

So I really like Donald Glover as Lando and I think he'd be amazing in a series (he is writing it too), and I would hope they'd include Alden's Han as well -- but this shouldve happened years and years ago & frankly the audience and goodwill for it is absolutely gone now.

Like fans actively root for Disney's Star Wars projects to fail... that's... bad. And tbh not unjustified.

Disney was too chickenshit to stand behind recasting (Alden was a GREAT Han and Glover was a GREAT Lando) - and now theyre in a swamp mess of AI cgi insanity while the whole creative world revolts against AI lmao. Instead of just casting Julliard graduate Graham Hamilton as Luke and rebooting the OG trio for a Heir to the Empire trilogy (what everyone wants) they're busy.... dragging The Mandalorian behind a shed and axing it to death by giving the show over to a deeply generally unknown (and OOC) Filoni original character Bo Katan who was originally conceived in TCW to be unlikeable intentionally within the narrative?

I'm sure the Lando show would've been great, but they already cancelled Lando twice and I'm sure they will again. Every single SW project Disney has announced has been cancelled including, already, the first bricks of their repulsive MCU Mando verse lol. Which was just announced in April 😂

It's just... busted.

I doubt Lando will ever exist & if it does I'll never give Disney my money about it.

Lando has been one of my fav sw characters forever, so its just bewildering it has gotten to this point.

[mitsdriveswhere]

The Seven Cities of Gold

I've always been a little fascinated in how myths affect myths and one great example of this is the Seven Cities of Gold. This, primarily, is considered one of the oldest European-American myths, one created by Spanish colonists and invaders.

The Seven Cities of Gold, or the Seven Cities of Cíbola, was a Spanish myth of indigenous cities built of or filled with gold, around the beginning of the sixteenth century. They are most closely associated with the 1540 entrada headed by Vasquez de Coronado into primarily modern day Arizona and New Mexico. The origin of this myth, however, is a bit confusing, for a couple reasons.

There are no Seven Cities of Gold

Which Seven Cities has never actually been solidified

This myth seems to predate European knowledge of the Ancestral Puebloan cities in New Mexico for which they are named (Cíbola being one of the first terms Europeans used to describe Zuni)

Which gets into the reason as to why such a myth exists. Fundamentally, (in my opinion) there are two factors that resulted in the creation of the myth of the Seven Cities of Gold: the economics of slavery and abolitionism, and the age old equivalent of the game Telephone.

The economics and history of slavery at this time, I think is fairly well understood, but I digress: Spain colonized Mexico and every other part of the Americas they could reach for imperial advantage. Spain needed money to fund its Inquisition (yes that one), and to rebuild after the Reconquista. As imperial powers do, they needed a source of income, preferably with unpaid labor. The Americas provided both of these, especially in Southern Mexico, where the Aztecs, already quite adept at mining and refining gold, had populous cities and traversable infrastructure. The Incas, like the Aztecs, also indicated to Spain that the Americas were filled with the riches they desired (people they could enslave, and precious metals - especially gold and silver).

Abolitionism on the other hand, especially in the early 1500s, is something I don't really hear so much about, even though it was a strong political force at the time. Granted, not abolitionism in the way we think of it today - let's not pretend that democracy was even on the horizon. But at the very least, Spain was at the forefront of a political movement away from the equivalent of chattel slavery - a shift the US would not catch onto for another three hundred years. The human rights violations of Spain's early conquistadors (and yes, the people of that time also thought of it that way) were abhorrent both politically and - worse for Spain - economically. Surprising to no one, someone willing to commit the worst acts imaginable on another human being is not all that willing to then go along with society's basic functions of decency. If you can name an early conquistador, I can name exactly how they fell from grace, were convicted, exiled, or yes - even murdered. It's all of them. So, Spain had a human rights movement, which manifested in several "protectionary" laws for the indigenous - especially the Laws of Burgos and the Ordinances of Discovery (I use quotations because, again, Europeans were still doggedly racist, and these laws reflected this). Some of these laws were so humanitarian in nature, Spanish colonists revolted in some areas because of how many rights were being granted to the indigenous (truly, please read about Pizarro's assassination, it's magnificent, and contextually relevant).

One actor in this movement, of course, was the first viceroy of New Spain, Antonio de Mendoza. Mendoza, while politically very shrewd, was in favor of these humanitarian movements. He would not have agreed to breech the northern border of his colony - was was then Central/Northern Mexico - only to conquer, like those before him. That position of his changed only after a survivor of a once-thought-to-be-very-very-very-dead entrada from ten years prior wandered out of Northern Mexico and back into Spanish occupied lands - Cabeza de Vaca. De Vaca spoke of cities he had been told about that were encrusted with jewels. This, Mendoza would move for, so he sent a scouting party, the survivors of said party returned to say they had also been told stories of cities of gold. Somewhere along the way, this report was twisted to say that the scouting party had actually seen cities of gold - specifically the city Cíbola (Zuni). Gold moved Spanish action, this is a constant through history. So Mendoza began preparing the first entrada of his office - the entrada of Coronado. From there, it's history (Coronado was also a fail-son like every conquistador before and after him. Look it up, he's cringe.).

But, where the fuck did the myth of Seven Cities come from? The scouting party saw one (1), and it was from a distance. This is where we get into the equivalent of the game of Telephone, aka how information was disseminated for nearly humanity's entire existence until the Phoenicians.

Humans, oddly enough, have a penchant for the number 7. We just really like it, for whatever reason. Lots and lots of legends and myths involve the number 7, but the two specially that likely influenced the myth of the Seven Cities come from two backgrounds - the Seven Caves of Chicomoztoc, and the Seven Cities of Antillia. Fascinatingly, two completely separate myths that evolved entirely independently of each other. The Seven Caves is a Nahua (Aztec) myth, about the origin of the Nahua themselves. Like many other Central American and American Southwestern peoples, the Nahua origin myth tells of the people emerging from the underground, specially from seven caves in this instance. It's an absolutely beautiful reminder just how well humans are able to keep our history even without writing it down. Unfortunately, the Spanish heard this myth, and thought 'Oh, how great would it be if we could find these caves, and loot them.' After all, the great Aztec cities they'd looted so far yielded a lot of gold. So, already, Spanish colonizers were primed with the desire to search for yet-to-be-discovered hordes of gold.

The second myth is of European origin, before the Americas were ever sailed to. The myth of the "lost" island of Antillia, or the Seven Cities of Antillia, revolved around a phantom island, of all things. Phantom islands are islands that do not exist, but were created through mapping errors when maps were made by hand by some guy going "yeah that looks about right". Maps were collaborative, so if some guy put down on the portion of the sea that he'd mapped that there's an island there, the next person over would also put it down, because how is he to know that the first guy was wrong. Phantom islands were chronic in early seafaring, because people also have a penchant for, scientifically speaking, making shit up. (See early maps of the gulf of Mexico, it does wonders for imposter syndrome. They were legit just making shit up.) The phantom island of Antillia was an island once incorrectly drawn off the coast of the Iberian Peninsula, long before 1492, and was said to be the hiding place of several prominent members of the Catholic Church - with highly desirable land and lots and lots of money. It was this myth that already existed in the mind space of Spanish citizens, once again priming them for the rumors told of Cíbola.

There have of course been speculations of what the Seven Cities might actually be, or at the very least, the remaining six, but it remains a fact that there were no cities of gold. No matter how much National Treasure 2 wants us to think it's in some god forsaken place like South Dakota.

[dailyanarchistposts]

XI. Digression on Methods

If equal rights be granted, and that under free conditions social supply must follow demand, why potter over methods? But because we are in a transition state, the question does arise: Shall our resistance to aggression be passive or active? Upon this point no answer is involved in our premises. Logically, however, the assertion of the law of equal freedom carries with it the sovereignty of the individual as a pre-requisite to voluntary co-operation; and this implies an equal right, singly or conjointly, to resist such invasion, and invasion under the forms of law does not invalidate the ethical proposition. Each must be guided as their own judgment determines, and whatever may be our judgment of the policy of such resistance, censorial denunciation lies beyond the province of individual sovereignty. If defence is right, no adhesion of numbers will augment its validity. To the further query: Which is best, passive or active resistance ? I answer that it is but an idle question. The popular superstition that personalities decide events, from which it springs, is born of militancy and characterizes its history. Force, however used, can teach no economic truth, yet events flowing from it often awaken consciousness of what equity demands. To deny that passive resistance has tremendous weight would be as great folly as to assert that it has given birth to such extension of freedom as we now enjoy. Though in the preceding pages I have tried to show the Industrial type may be peaceably realized, in common with many others I believe that the waves of events are driving us “Niagara-ward;” that no amount of philosophizing, no quaker preaching, will cause privilege to heed the demands of progress, nor avert the ever-nearing collapse of compulsory rule.

If we are as August Spies{53} said, “The birds of the coming storm,” in that we but indicate, yet cannot prevent, its advent, it is none the less our duty to cry aloud and spare not,{54} to awaken the thoughtless from their lethargy, to point out to the thoughtful the sole means of peaceful solution, nor to fail to keep aligned with the van of progress under all circumstances. Still, underneath all this fear that ideas may work down to move muscles, ignorance grasp the reins, and the “red terror” run rampant, there is not only distrust of human nature and history, but of principles as well. Violence of a frenzied people smarting under a sense of injustice is ever of short duration; the “white terror” of militancy is perpetual. Are our enunciation [sic] of principles underlying equitable social relations to cease when they begin to move muscles? On the contrary, to the extent that they are held will the dreaded reaction be less. Even as Garrison’s appeal to the higher law involved John Brown’s act, so it will be in the promulgation of every revolutionary principle. I do not try to avert it for I consider such a task fruitless. Every new social revolt has had to pass the entrenchments of privilege, and I see no reason to believe it will be different now, even though half-hearted reformers turn back affrighted.

Force is not necessary to a revolution, nor is its use even generally successful, yet the ideas which prompted it are not crushed in defeat. That ideas have moved muscles in all great crises is beyond question. Why so? Because human nature, evolved under the militant type, is a constant factor in all social problems; because entrenched privilege never willingly relinquishes its position; because ideas lay behind the growing protest a point was reached where forbearance ceased to be a virtue.

The church sought to hold on to its usurped power over mind when increasing intelligence demanded emancipation. Thought had long lain dormant, bound in strong cables fastened to God’s throne. Mind awakened, sighed for freedom, dreamed of peace, – and revolted! The cables were parted and in their vibration shook the stability of the throne to which they were attached. On earth red-handed war had full sway. Countries were desolated, families ravished, slaughtered, exiled. Yet progress halted not. God’s voice was lost in the din of battle waged by his infuriated adorers; earth was arrayed against heaven; finite man against the omnipotent fiend the Church had enthroned. Yet from blood-stained fields liberty of thought – the right of private judgment – the sovereignty of the individual over beliefs – emerged victorious.

The union of Church and State remained, a morganatic rather than an equal alliance, a left-handed marriage provoking raillery and contempt. Was progress satisfied? Was its work accomplished? Were the swords to be beaten into plowshares? On the contrary. The guidons of progress were moved forward. A new position was taken. Old enemies in new uniforms still confronted each other. Authority, driven from the Church, had taken refuge in the State. Impotent in the one, it recovered virility in the other. The old cables were again tightened. The keeper of the amulet blessed the holder of the sword and the consecrated king went forth to conquer. Again the bugles blew and the contest waged. Again the cables parted, and king and priest were left to condole with each other. But Man rejoiced! He was free to bind himself with superstition’s cables, or to cut them. Was progress satisfied? Was its work accomplished ? Were the swords now to be beaten into plowshares?

On the contrary. A vital question arose: Who should possess the plowshares? But much had been accomplished, though each step of progress had been stained with innocent blood. And while Authority remains to compel, Liberty’s garments will not be spotless. Are not all discussions, all controversies, all “popular sermons” which pass beyond the ears of drowsy hearers into print, all “able editors’” work and parliamentary eloquence, all cabinet disputes and political wrangling, essentially economic in nature, or tinctured by industrial demands?

Industrial emancipation! Will it come? Is history a false guide? Is experience a delusion? Is progress a myth? Are industrial aspirations barren? Courage! Bide your time, but continue sowing seed for the harvest. The morning dawneth after the darkest night. Driven from the domain of thought, divorced from the throne, Authority has dug its last ditch in Economics. Progress has not halted. The political State has been transformed into an economic one. Forms of government are secondary, forms of profits primary, in State councils. The industrial baron craves the protecting arm once sought by ecclesiastical and political knights. Again protest rises, again the old cables are tightened.

Aligned with progress we need have no fear. What priest and king failed to accomplish, the trader cannot enforce. Our wishes, our plans, our fears are unavailing to arrest the tide of progress. Have patience though freedom leads through sombre scenes. The desire for economic emancipation is a prophecy of its realization. We may study the line of battle; not to us to direct it. We may perform a soldier’s duty in the ranks, but liberty alone commandeth. The egoistic pleasure-seeker may arrogate to himself omniscience, but his voice is unheard.

It is for awakened conscience to assert the principle; events will determine the character of the answer. Ideas once rooted in conscience never die. The old abolitionists denounced injustice, knowing that in awakening conscience time would bring it to bear in its own way to the extinction of vested wrong. So it is today; how concerns the new abolitionists not. The awakened conscience of our day responds to the awakening conscience of 1836 in repeating with new emphasis the lines of Whittier:{55}

“Is this the land our fathers loved, The freedom which they toiled to win? Is this the soil whereon they moved? Are these the graves they slumber in? Are we the sons by whom are borne The mantles which the dead have worn? “And shall we crouch above these graves With craven soul and fettered lip? Yoke in with marked and branded slaves, And tremble at the driver’s whip? Bend to the earth our pliant knees, And speak but as our masters please? ...... “No! by each spot of haunted ground, Where Freedom weeps her children’s fall: By Plymouth’s rock and Bunker’s mound, By Griswold’s stained and shattered wall, By Warren’s ghost, by Langdon’s shade, By all the memories of our dead! ...... “By all above, around, below, Be our indignant answer: NO!”

[dolphin1812]

Yay historical context!

I love this line:

“Every man who has in his soul a secret revolt against any act of the State, of life, or of destiny, borders on riot; and so soon as it appears he begins to quiver and to feel himself lifted by the whirlwind.”

That “secret revolt” isn’t surprising after the July Revolution digression. Most people had a reason to be unsatisfied with the political order on ideology alone, so when compounded by economic troubles and disease, it’s not entirely unexpected (in hindsight, of course) that 1832 was a year of protests. 

And yes, Hugo is once again a bit condescending here, but we should keep in mind that rioting is really unpleasant and he's trying to address those who focus on that. It can be violent and scary, and it can very easily have accidental victims – just think of Jean Valjean’s fear of being caught because of the political tensions. In trying to explain and defend the June Rebellion (the protests at Lamarque’s funeral), he has to return to the question raised in the July Revolution digression: what is better, “barbaric civilization” or “civilized barbarism?” He settled on the former in that digression, but in trying to convince his audience, he has to address the discomfort and terror caused by this violence. Acknowledging that there are the “greatest and the most infamous” in a riot is a way of recognizing that aspect while defending them as ultimately “great.” It's uncomfortable to read, but it was likely a useful rhetorical strategy when dealing with the "moderate" section of his audience.

The image of the “moderate” who compromises with a tyrannical peace returns again (here described as “lukewarm”). Some of the specific points raised by that hypothetical – particularly equating those who died young for their beliefs and those who died around middle age for their families – already seem a bit questionable, but that’s also due to Hugo’s power as the narrator here. He’s telling us what this hypothetical bourgeois would say, so he can control how convincing this person is. That people said this is true, but Hugo also gets to make sure this person says everything he wants to explore and possibly refute.

I think “riots” being too broad a term is actually a good move on Hugo’s part, as is the comparison to war. He measures war, for instance, in economic costs just as rioting is, pointing out that if it’s a matter of losses due to the violence, both should be judged together. That some riots (the seizure of the Bastille) are considered better than some wars even while costing more financially is also a good point, highlighting that causes and effects need to be taken into account as well. The War of Spanish Succession mentioned here was about the interests of the Bourbon dynasty, and it was seen as a costly war that drained resources from France and the throne. In the long run, the costs of wars like this one were held against the ancien régime.