#that absolutely obliterates the premise of that....

[kalims]

Oh my goddess, orders are open! Ahem, ANYWAYS— I wonder if I could have an Idia with a fem or gn s/o who is introverted and generally closed-faced, being a sweetheart and even shy with him, pretty please?

• Remember to drink water and take care of yourself correctly, kisses <3

– Mel 🌙🩵✨

dress,

premise.

idia forever thought his cause of death would be the permanent termination of his end game account—which in theory, is now proven wrong at the existence of a brand new thing that just might obliterate his heart.

note. thank you mel <3 you too. i, for one will gladly accept kisses from u and idia (he's downbad here LOL)

idia is having a strangely, familiar sensation.

for example—the fact that his heart is palpitating so fast is making him afraid that he'll get the same sense of doom he frequently gets whenever this happens. like when he's the one that the professor chooses to answer a question up front. just his luck cause it absolutely sucks in real life just as much as his chances of winning that rare character.

but no, there isn't an impending sense of doom that sends him to the edge. no cold sweat forming on the skin of his neck, nor does it protrude from his clammy hands. it's weird, he feels warm rather than the cold it usually accompanies.

he needs to visit a doctor.

he gulps thickly. sending a lightning fast glance at your direction then averting it even faster. oh my god, your hand just brushed against his.. was it intentional? no, no—it mustn't be. you wouldn't waste your time doing that.

but you might even look more tenser than he is.

despite the attempt at flushing down the tightness in his throat, his words still break off into a croaky stammer that just sends his face into a grimace because, did he sound like that? "I'm.. I'm really sorry, you didn't have to do this," he says, looking away with those eyes that just screams a mixture of 'I hate it all.' and 'I'm so scared.'

his eyes in comparison to yours, dull significantly in terms of greatness. cause as rare as it is for your eyes to meet, he'll always marvel at the lush hue your eyes are colored with—and god, your lashes. so pretty, so, so pretty.

he sulks. he doesn't deserve this.

"it's alright," you answer in response, voice quiet but it's the only thing he ever hears despite the myriad of people quite nearly squishing the both of you. the crowd is large, and noisy. so he isn't sure why he's suddenly the greatest listener when you speak. "I'm glad you thought of... inviting me along, I know you're quite passionate about it."

passionate is not a strong enough word, it could be an incorrect word to use even. he supposes it's just a nice feeling to excel—be good at something.

but with how hot his heart is probably burning, maybe passionate really is the right word.

for you that is.

most likely idia's ideal type of player two <3 someone he can keep up with, not too fast and certainly not too slow. but either way, he’s probably having a heart attack at whatever you do. literally just sleeping? his heart… playing with him? please match avatars at once or he will combust. (and yes, he is hinting even though you already match everywhere else. had a house in a game, got married in a game.)

don’t even pull out the fact he buys you the currency to match and you feel bad cause he thinks it’s too cute. you need to stop or else he will buy you more.

speaking of more in game terms, he surprisingly garners a lot of attention online maybe because he’s endgame in every single account he’s made and many people like money so… there are many attempts at ‘rizzing’ him up but in the end he’s provoking them to screenshot it and report them as online daters.

^ says THE online dater.

still reports people if they flirt with you, but compared to his. not only is it a file for online dating he somehow dug up the dirt, the monstrous things they did like… 3 years ago and now they’re gonna get suspended. It’s concerning since he was talking with you animatedly during it and he somehow also exposed them all in 10 minutes.

did the see you again trend in secrecy cause he would rather leap down a hole to hell than let people see it. In any case… if it isn’t obvious he’s the lala, you the okok.

deluded himself, is convinced that he’s actually the nonchalant, ‘cool’ one but all he is, is a literal puddle. is still solid when standing but will be putty in your hands in SECONDS.

idia is secretly really proud of himself whilst being like: how did i even pull them. cause when he looks at your face when you’re talking to other people. he’s actually kind of scared cause it’s a really wondrous thing you never once looked at him like that… (please save his mind too. he’s trying to convince himself that you must be like this, soft person he knows to other people too and not just him because that’s just crazy right haha.. hahahaha…)

the type to tell you to stand back during raids, challenges, boss fights, etc…  that all you need to do is be there, and that he’ll solo it for you and you can claim your rewards even though he gave you the rarest, strongest equipment in respective games which won’t be much use at this point cause he insists he do it for you, and sulks all day if you don’t let him.

stay at home couple >>>

will order every single thing you crave during those times he’s too shy to consider date nights, and you too so it’s like an unspoken thing. he honestly plays better when you’re inside his room, even if it’s just laying on his messy bed scrolling on your phone or munching on something.

it’s just complete, comfortable silence.

except for the time one of you accidentally makes an indirect flirty comment and now the room could be considered a sauna from the literal steam only two people emitted. 

really, really, really, REALLY, likes it when your head is on his shoulder.

“─ean.. no one really asked for it, the nerf was completely unnecessary and─” the words poured out of his mouth, something uncontrollable that he couldn’t stop. there is something about you that just kicks down the layer of anxiety on him. comfortable might be the right word, even if you don’t talk that much (which is surprising cause he ends up being the talkative one and you always assure him that you like to listen.) somehow the thought: am i too annoying? doesn’t really pop up like usual.

in fact, he’s excited to ramble all about it. excited to hear your thoughtful hums, excited to see your attentive eyes on him since the first word he’s said─but it isn’t. because he looks up and you’re blinking haphazardly, thrice in a second and before he panics to shut his mouth he feels the soft slump of your head against the curve of his shoulder.

oh my god, oh my god, oh my g─

if idia had half of his mind he would scream instinctively at the weight he isn’t really accustomed to feel. actually, even if he did have his entire brain connected, and his thoughts coherent he still would. but he bites the inside of his cheek cause despite the chaos that just erupted in his mind which is somehow simultaneously blank, and swirling.

and he remembers midst his confusion that you are,

asleep.

you’re asleep on his shoulder

you’re asleep.

asleep on his shoulder.

on. his. shoulder.

he resorts to the screech in his head.

his shoulder─is so terribly stiff right now to the point where he thinks that sleeping on a hard, wooden surface would be surely more comfortable rather than where your head lays. he makes an effort to relax his muscles, tell himself that it’s only you and that there’s nothing wrong but there is something wrong because it’s you! idia dares to sneak a peek at you and your closed lids only confirm your unconscious state.

and careful with each nudge his movement makes sends to your head. idia can’t resist the hands that creep up his face and bury it, to hope all the embarrassment and whatever he’s feeling right now absorbs it right out of his face because god. he knows he looks like he just ate 10 bowls of lilia’s cooking.

he would scream, he really would. a second thought but you’re on his shoulder!

you, who rarely touches him too much.

on him.

him, who gets too flustered to be touched by you.

so he feels pretty obligated to just suck it up cause he’s enjoying the moment even if you aren’t conscious right now and he sure as hell is going to, for as long as he can.

idia releases a deep sigh, long and wistful because he’s gonna die before you even wake up.

[beesmygod]

who fills the pot holes in “lore olympus”?

the thing about criticism is this: you can absolutely think “too hard” about something intended to be light fare and the delicate balancing act of art criticism is about threading various needles to avoid as many retorts as possible accusing you of opening discussions in bad faith. one of the many ways to obliterate trust in your critical audience is to become so derisively nitpicky that your attempts to draw attention to the pre-existing holes in the setting or the structure of the story will look like petty sabotage. i recognize this is the risk im taking when i get set off by the existence of sports luxury vehicles within a fictional universe created entirely to cater to a specific sexual appetite. indeed, there is no type of pedantry more obnoxious than the sexual pedant.

BUT.

the work doesnt exist in a vacuum. if we’re going to be honest about the work’s intent (or, how the work’s intent explicitly reads to the audience), part of the fantasy is to be completely taken care of. i mean, who among us hasn’t dreamed of this, at least briefly. it’s one of the most fundamental of all human desires. but to be taken care of, in settings which are founded in capitalist societies (everyone groans at my shit), begs the obvious question: where is the money coming from?

author’s note so everyone knows im not insane (hahahaha): i’m not here to argue the virtues of communism over capitalism or imply that depicting capitalism favorably in your comic is a moral failing. it is not capitalism itself that i have a problem with (...in artistic depictions), it is the way that it is invoked within this comic specifically that bothers me; it demonstrates a terminal thread of thoughtlessness that threatens to unravel the entire setting, premise and moral ambiguity of what is being presented as a desirable fantasy. this element is the catalyst that sparks the degradation of the taboo into the unconscionable. 

look i’ll be up front: my primary motivation is that this comic sucks and im a hater. the anti-feminist overtones are their own kettle of fish but the runner up contender for most concerning (oooueerrrg, everyone is groaning again) element is the complete lack of class consciousness. look, i mean concerning in the sense of “why has none of this gone recognized by, like, anyone?” every time i show someone a real LO panel they react like i’m went out of my way to fuck with them in an ultra specific way. it has completely recreated the feeling of being the only person in my friend group watching riverdale, if riverdale were the crown jewel of the WB.

to strip the pretension from the phrase “class consciousness” and put it in plain text: the insertion of modern capitalism into the comic has necessitated the creation of an underclass to serve the gods (the focus of the comic). as a result, the comic has repeatedly needed to justify the abuse, exploitation and acts of dominance over the subjugated class in order for the main cast to remain sympathetic. the author is incapable of envisioning a world that does not operate on disparity, in spite of the immutable fact that the gods are the sole arbiters of seemingly infinite creation.

and i’m capable of comprehending that there are times when a work has grotesquely unlikable asshole protagonists on purpose. it could be argued that the fickle behaviors of the gods is SUPPOSED to be detestable and there are obviously times where that is the intended audience read. but this is not “succession” and the entirety of the work does not indicate that it is trying to create quiet commentary by inviting the audience to draw their own conclusions on the characters by simply presenting them with the truth of their actions and deeds. additionally, if the romantic hero also engages in that behavior and it’s unremarked on or encouraged by the author or the heroine, what is the intended audience read?

regardless, all this to say: i do not want to alter the content of the comic, but to verbalize how it reads to me as an audience member. the purpose of criticism is to demonstrate and encourage reflection and to help refine one’s own perceptions.

okay. right. the cars.

this is minthe. i could write 100000 more words about the treatment of her by the comic and, by extension, the author. her introduction is about as subtle as a brick: she serves as the evil whore foil to persephone’s virgin perfection. her introduction as hades’ randomly abusive, hyper-sexual, and cruel younger girlfriend is contrasted with persephone’s naivete, chastity, and sweetness. shes literally smoking a cigar and wearing lingerie. somehow she is not the hero.

like i said, there’s a lot to unpack with her but i need to stay on target. minthe is a nymph, one of many “beast races” (for lack of a better term) that populate olympus and fulfill menial tasks and jobs. for example, this guy runs a modeling agency.

a modeling agency that include car shows. or...dealerships. its not really clear. anyway: she is introduced to hades in a flashback through his brother zeus who sexually harasses her during her shift.

lol uh. or comes as close as he can without becoming objectively villainous instead of “rakish”. as a result, what plays out is all VERY schoolyard behavior.

he executes a 0/10 prank that still kills for some reason.

and then it happens. “it” isn’t a singular event limited to just the example im about to give. “it” is the complete undercutting of the dramatic and logical tension within the story and “it” happens with alarming frequency as the comic introduces more and more modern elements. each additional luxury vehicle or department story or cell phone comes with the artist being forced to depict the people (or in this case, beast races) providing those services. the author cannot imagine a world where luxury is not predicted on service or a product, even or especially when the existence of the service or product does not make sense.

back to “it”...hades poofs away:

if gods can poof and fly (as its been implied some or all of them can), what in the hell is the purpose of the luxury vehicle on olympus? the beast races are sure as shit not buying them as they are explicitly the working class in every single one of their appearances. what does it run on? who pumps the gas? who services the cars? the streets of olympus have been paved so that cars can be driven so this would suggest the city’s infrastructure was centered around the use of vehicles. does he hire someone to drive him around in it, despite the fact that he can teleport? he and persephone clearly use it to get around even though she can fly. these cars are so successful despite having an extremely limited number of buyers, they make enough money to hire booth babes all day explicitly so they can be sexually harassed by the men (of a superior magic immortal race) buying the cars.

why does an entire seemingly unnecessary industry exist within the confines of the universe?

all of the above questions are overthinking a basic logistical problem with the setting for anyone with a moral center: in order to be served, one must have servants. the entirety of the universe in LO is constructed around not a modern re-imagining of the ancient myth, but instead a lazy and depressing hodge-podge of various products and physical items the author places great value on as status items in the real world. and, sadly, this is not as a bit within the universe. this isn’t setting up any message other than the central one of the comic: love and worth can be quantified with a dollar amount.

hades’ department store (staffed entirely by beast races who are delighted and eager to serve their master) offers a purse that two beast race women drool over, only to be informed:

this scene has a direct and obvious purpose: through it, we establish that hades’ store caters to the ultra-ultra-rich. this is a level of rich that is unobtainable to anyone except the pantheon of gods, whose unique abilities maintain the fabric of reality and thus set the terms for the world they unilaterally control. at best, minthe, a nymph, experiences a fraction of this wealth when sugaring for hades. on the other hand, persephone is the heiress to a cereal empire (who is eating the....?.........you know what dont even get me started on that whole thing) so she is all but assured to be independently wealthy even if she was temporarily without funds during certain events of the comic.

back to the purse: hades and persephone arrive at his own department store so that she can have a restorative shopping montage. she learns a heart-warming lesson about how its okay to be rich in what i think is one of the most gratuitous and absolute dog-brained moments of the entire fucking comic, thus far, including the part where persephone gets big and accidentally steps on (real, human, ancient greek) people and has to go on the lam. her accidental manslaughters evidently require a tribunal and a trial of her peers, which is odd when contrasted with the justice meted out on the beast races indiscriminately and unilaterally by individual gods who act as judge, jury, and executioner.

granted these are not the nice gods (i can think of an event with demeter, persephone’s confusingly controlling mother, specifically, as seen above), but there’s an echo of this behavior when hades bullies two beast race women into divulging information about persephone. in one example, a woman purchases a hair comb from a pawn shop, ignorant that it was a gift from hades and persephone is the one who pawned it for emergency funds. when hades shakes her down and demands where she stole the comb from, she directs him to the pawn shop and he just...takes it. to give it to persephone again. whether or not she was made whole or is even okay with this is completely inconsequential to the author but left me, the reader, in a total lurch. the complete disregard for addressing this within the narrative is less shocking when taken into total account with everything else ive been talking about.

the sequence in which hades takes her on a shopping spree to both improve her mood and express his love was too grotesque for me on every conceivable level. it is not just the shockingly antiquated “women b shoppin!” stereotype presented as a healing process, but the open and shameless conflation of money and love, net worth and self-worth. what possible message could come from this except to reinforce that within the fictional universe of LO, it is the place of the lesser to fawn over what persephone is ultimately entitled to. it is her birthright as the protagonist/self insert and as a literal goddess who determines the creation of food...and nymphs. the underclass. the gods are responsible for the creation of their servants.

the industries exist because they are 1:1 representations of or conductive to what the author considers to be a desirable luxurious fantasy. i do not think there is a more complex reason than that, as that is the reason why the entire comic exists: as a personal love letter to the author’s tastes and desires. and frankly, that’s the point of comics. ALL comic artists should succumb to this desire. what continues to vex and haunt me however is the complete lack of reflection occurring despite the author putting these elements together and presenting them for an audience who then lapped it up without questioning what, specifically, was appealing about this and why. it is by sheer accident that these elements combine together to paint an unflattering picture of a culture that has created artificial disparity for no apparent reason than personal gratification.

my question, is this:

who fills the pot holes on the roads built exclusively so that the gods can drive their luxury cars? why do they do it? to get hades some pussy????

[milksockets]

my coworker + i have been planning this mission to rikers island for weeks to visit a client, and today was finally [supposed to be] the day. i reviewed the visitor dress code policy, preparing myself for the eye-opening experience of a lifetime. of course, we get there, and long story short, a random dude in a bulletproof vest sitting in a shed on the outskirts of the premises had to call some lady on the phone and eventually, after struggling to understand what we were even doing there, told us we need “clearance,” despite my repeated insistence that i had examined the website several times and saw absolutely zero information about arrangements needing to be made beforehand.

so basically, after this 8-minute interaction, i can confidently confirm that rikers indeed must be shut down and obliterated into crumbs.

[celaenaeiln]

I don't wanna complain about what other people love to them but I ended up reading New Order yesterday after seeing your recommendations and... Honestly, I didn't vibe with it and I wanted to see what you think? The entire premise seems flawed to use Dick of all people for (and his attitude through it is just... way beyond regular asshole Grayson), I'm tired of DC giving Kory children but taking her away from them, yet another "let's ruin Dick and Kory" adventure is going on and it's just... Rushed. Especially the ending where it pulls a teen movie that's like "DAVE ENDED UP MAJORING IN LAW AFTER HIGH SCHOOL AND BECAME A JUDGE" and seems to just skip over so, so much interesting stuff that way.

HOWEVER. I also want to say I can't entirely hate the comic because the dialogue is pretty solid at most points and Jake really is an amazing character with such a great heart. I honestly like him more than Jon Kent.

Valid!

Honestly I really loved the comic but a couple points you brought up are hitting me hard. The first being Kori. It's getting on my nerves how DC for some reason keeps breaking up Dick and Kori after they've been married and for what? I get why here but in Mar'i's comic? There's literally no reason!!

Secondly I don't believe Kori would just abandon her kid. She gave birth to him, she loves him. Why on earth would she just leave him? Maybe it's because it's DC and they really need to break up Dick and Kori because "dick and barbara are the dream team." Puh-lease.

However I did think it made sense for Dick to be at the center of it all. Dick has always been accepting of superpowers and he even said "I like a woman who break a battleship with her bare hands" when talking about Kori. Which says a lot about what he thinks. But I also believe he would he would eradicate them for one reason - superpowers killed Bruce. And he loves his father.

He also did it to save the world and it's unarguable that he did and the people loved him for it. He has the capability to both destroy the league and rebuild the world and this comic is just proving that which is why I don't think there's anything wrong with Dick.

As for his stubbornness, maybe! Honestly at this point I'll accept anything about any character unless it's wildly inaccurate. I don't know if Dick is a jerk or not because my impression of his jerk levels have been obliterated by the Cassandra Batgirl comics. After reading that literally everything else seems normal. I am struggling so hard to understand what's going on with Dick in those comics. Is it bad writing? Is it the writer? What was he facing during that time that made his act like that? What am I missing? I'm still reeling from that so I'm completely out of it lol. Still too flabbergasted to comprehend so you may be right but my mind has just accepted almost every version of Dick now as long as he stays true to his motivations and acts reasonably.

I really did like the ending but totally understand what you mean. I guess it's because the author didn't want to drag it out and turn it into a whole 500 issue comic so he skipped to the end.

I love, love, LOVE the comic for Jake! Jake and Dick's relationship?? I-I'm ENTHUSED!!! They have the best father and son relationship ever and I'm never getting over the two of them. I like him better than Jon too and Jon's amazing! Jake's just absolutely fantastic!! The best, best, BEST kid ever.

So generally I love the comic but my biggest point of contention is separating Dick and Kori for no reason. Also whatever's going on with Kate was far more distracting than Dick for me lol. But I liked the art and dialogue too and overall I really enjoyed it. Liking comics is just a matter of preference after all ;)

[dream-meltic]

On the general topic of Bedman misconceptions: People try to push the fault for everything he has ever done onto Ariels/Chaos, which, to me at least, comes off as people wanting him to be more innocent than what he is or defend him without actually defending him.

He was manipulated. But that doesn't mean he never wanted to hurt people or that he's now a good person on the wrong side being held at gunpoint. Bedman is quite literally, by definition, a sadist. If his moral compass wasn't already obliterated, do you think he would've actually agreed to start killing thousands of people? If he was some innocent, didn't-know-any-better kid, why would he even have wanted to kill in the first place? I think people don't like acknowledging the things he actually says about people but in case you forgot, he first asks Zato to go back to being dead, calls him a toy, and then says he wants to kill him because he- ACTUAL QUOTE- "needs the entertainment."

In fact, he already had his plan made BEFORE meeting Ariels. Thousands of people were going to die at his hands with her input or not. Even under the premise of being able to bring them all back, no one as innocent or helpless as people make Bedman out to be would still have wanted to kill them. His sole limit is that he won't kill people who remind him of Delilah, and that is it. In fact, you could even argue that most if not all of the deaths were completely unnecessary for his goal and had no reason to happen!

Feeling guilt does not make him innocent and it does not undo the fact that he ENJOYED IT when he was doing it. He is an absolutely terrible person, if you love him you're loving him war crimes and all!!!

Which I do

He's MY little murderer

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Why We Should Abolish Hate Speech Laws - Andrew Doyle

Since when did it become the business of the state to audit our emotions?

In effect, this is precisely what's happening by means of the various "hate speech" laws that have been implemented throughout Europe in recent years. In Ireland, the imminent "Criminal Justice" bill would represent one of the most draconian forms of hate speech legislation yet produced.

And how is hatred defined in the bill? Well, the following is a direct quotation: "'hatred' means hatred against a person or a group of persons in the state or elsewhere on account of their protected characteristics or any one of those characteristics."

So, hatred means hatred. Glad we cleared that up. This kind of circular definition is what we've come to expect from legislators when it comes to this most nebulous of concepts. In his book "Censored," Paul Coleman helpfully includes all of the existing legislation on hatred from across Europe. And in doing so, he reveals that no two governments are able to agree on its meaning.

In 2012, the European Court of Human Rights concluded that there "is no universally accepted definition of the expression 'hate speech'" and a manual published by UNESCO in 2015 accepted that "the possibility of reaching a universally shared definition seems unlikely."

When it comes to the statute books, one would have thought that precision and detail would be of paramount importance. After all we've seen how vaguely worded legislation is wide open to exploitation. Consider, for instance, how trans rights activists are now claiming that the reference to sex in the "Equality Act 2010" connotes a sense of "gender identity" rather than, you know, the biological designations of male and female.

If the state is empowered to imprison its citizens on the basis of "hatred," surely we need to know what that means. Hatred, like any other emotion, cannot be legislated out of existence. Will we be seeing laws against envious speech on the statute books? And what about codes against wrath or pride? If the government were to prohibit narcissistic speech, most of the flag waving pronoun-declaring gender ideologues would have to be incarcerated. And while this would doubtless create a much more sane and serene society, it would also involve the obliteration of our fundamental values.

As for "hate crimes," there is no need for mind reading in order to determine the appropriate punishment. If I'm physically assaulted, it makes little difference to me if the assailant was motivated by homophobia. I would prefer the sentence to reflect the crime itself, not to be moderated according to speculations about the perpetrator's private thoughts. The state should have absolutely no license to probe inside our heads, any more than employers should insist on compulsory unconscious bias training.

In a free society we are entitled to think and feel as we see fit, and so long as that does not interfere with the liberties of others, that includes the right to hate. But even if one were to accept the premise that the state must crack down on hateful thoughts, which I most assuredly do not, "hate speech" legislation is holy ineffective.

Censorship of hateful ideas does not cause them to disappear. It drives them underground where they can fester unchallenged. Moreover, "hate speech" laws are easily weaponized by activists seeking to silence their political opponents. For example, in the UK, we have seen people arrested for "misgendering," that is to say, for accurately identifying the sex of another person.

The journalist Caroline Farrow was investigated by police for 6 months after an appearance on Good Morning Britain. According to a complainant, Farrow had referred to another contributor's female-identifying child with a male pronoun during a conversation that took place off-air. And although such instances have not led to convictions, we all know that the process is the punishment.

As one who has received my fair share of abuse online, I understand that free speech has its downsides. But I choose to ignore those of the obnoxious and hateful ilk, rather than call for them to be censored. The price we pay for living in a free society is that unpleasant people are going to say unpleasant things. But their right to do so is precisely the same right that allows us to counter them. If we attempt to silence even our most abusive critics, we are essentially surrendering our principles at their behest.

No doubt the trans-identifying individual who was described as a "faggot with tits" in a recent case in Spain didn't relish the experience. But it should concern us all that the state has intervened and sentenced the woman who posted the offending words to 6 months in in prison, suspended on condition of the payment of a €3,850 fine. In addition, she's been banned from employment in teaching and sports for three and a half years. This is the very definition of authoritarian overreach.

[ *Ironic correction - Both the complainant and the offender were "trans-identified" males. ]

Those who are skeptical of gender identity ideology are particularly susceptible to the misapplication of hate speech laws and there is no way of knowing which other beliefs will eventually be criminalized. Once a state has outlawed "hatred" and failed to define it, the law becomes a cudgel to beat anyone who holds heterodox points of view. Who is to say that a future government might not deem it "hateful" to criticize its policies? What starts with the chilling of free speech ends with the criminalization of dissent.

A new law in Canada, for instance, Bill C63 empowers the state to imprison a citizen for life for "advocating genocide." But of course, activists and even politicians have insisted that claiming biological sex is real and immutable is a form of "trans genocide." On the hands of authoritarians these words are very slippery. They can mean whatever they want them to mean.

And that's why we should be so worried about free speech in Ireland. Last year the Irish Green Party senator Pauline O'Reilly made no effort to disguise the authoritarian nature of the new bill.

"That's exactly what we're doing here, is we are restricting freedom. But we're doing it for the common good."

Hasn't every tyrant in history made an identical claim? In her speech, O'Reilly invoked the notion of safety to justify state censorship. "If your views on other people's identities go to make their lives unsafe insecure and cause them such deep discomfort that they cannot live in peace," she said, "then I believe it is our job as legislators to restrict those freedoms."

Well. it's a common tactic of activists to claim that certain opinions make them feel "unsafe" as a means to provoke a censorial response either from employers or from the state. But this is linguistic sleight of hand and the strategy has been remarkably effective.

The Irish "hate speech" bill goes further than most of its equivalents in European countries. It will give the state the right to prosecute those who cause offense under the catchall of "inciting hatred." And those found guilty could face up to 5 years in prison. Even more worryingly, a citizen can be jailed for 2 years simply if they "prepare or possess" material that could potentially incite hatred. So, if you have a gender-critical meme on your iPhone, that could be sufficient to see you in jail.

In the UK, "hate speech" laws exist in the form of the "Public Order Act 1986" and the "Communications Act 2003." 3,000 people are arrested each year in the UK for comments posted online that have been deemed offensive. And in some cases have even been imprisoned for jokes.

If we're going to tackle this problem, we might start by repealing section 127 of the Communications Act, which criminalizes online speech that can be deemed "grossly offensive." Of course, no attempt is ever made to define "grossly offensive" in the legislation, so anyone could be vulnerable.

In Scotland, the situation is even graver. When First Minister Hamza Yusuf was Justice Secretary, he was instrumental in the passing of the Hate Crime and Public Order Act, and disturbingly, these new laws can see citizens prosecuted for words that they have uttered in the privacy of their own homes. I'm reminded of a speech by William Pitt the Elder, delivered in the House of Commons in March 1763.

"The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all the forces of the Crown. It may be frail, its roof may shake, the wind may blow through it, the storm may enter, the rain may enter, but the King of England cannot enter. All his force dares not cross the threshold of the ruined tenement."

Evidently, these sentiments would not be echoed by the SNP. Given that hatred and offense are entirely subjective concepts, we should be resisting any attempt to codify in law restrictions against them. No two figures of authority will interpret these terms in the same way. And as human beings with frailties and biases, they will doubtless be tempted to wield such laws against their detractors.

If the state is willing to dispense with our right to free expression, there can be no guarantees for any of us. "Hate speech" laws are an affront to human liberty. It's time to ditch them for good.

[madhogthymaster]

Down The Cabbit Hole: The Weird World of Klonoa Literature - An Archive (Part 2)

[PART 1]

22 July 2022

As I slowly work my way towards Klonoa media completionism (pending), I find myself drawn to Dream Crusaders, a fan-made continuation to the cancelled Dream Traveller of Noctis Sol webcomic, written and illustrated by Esteban Girolami.

-

As you know, my opinions about that officially licensed material are overwhelmingly negative, nevertheless I am curious as to what this adventure may yield under a new direction and vision - which is automatically better than having neither direction nor vision at all.

-

To be perfectly blunt, there is absolutely no chance of redemption for that comic. It was a doomed enterprise the second Huepow showed up out of nowhere. Its mere existence is offensive. That said, I'm glad this "sequel" starts off with these two. I'm keenly aware of the hypocrisy.

-

Nightmare Klonoa's face game appears to be in top shape, which is swell since the original story did not give me any reason whatsoever to care about this doofus. I only now notice the cute detail of the Pac-Man's ghost hat.

-

Actually using loosely established lore from Lunatea's Veil to inform your narrative? Alright, Dream Crusaders, you have my attention.

-

Ah, I see. You are using your story as a thinly-veiled excuse to bring back iconic series antagonists for fan-service purposes. I can respect that. At least, you are providing something that your audience might want to see.

-

This is how you are choosing to characterize the Goddess Claire, eh? Go on.

-

Thou shalt not make Nightmare Klonoa likeable.

-

Hurray!

-

Honestly, that's a power move on the writer's part.

-

Excuse me? How dare you come at me with that expression!? I don't appreciate being specifically targeted!

-

Oh no, I love her.

-

As far as fanfictions go, this is giving me exactly the kind of inanity I would enjoy from the medium. It is not a good Klonoa story but it's clearly having fun with its dumb premise. Goddess Claire, in full anime super villain mode, is the unquestionable MVP.

-

I get the feeling this author does not particularly care about Guntz, which the only acceptable behaviour when it comes to Guntz.

-

"Oh don't mind me, I'm just going to Naruto pose in the background of this exposition panel."

-

Gasp! It's the bandana-wearing Moo! Legally distinct from the bandana-wearing Waddle Dee!

-

"I promise not to obliterate the elderly, metaphorically or otherwise."

-

It's Trauma Bunny!

-

Ah, an appropriate pairing. Trash belong together, after all.

-

"Hyuck!"

-

Original Character. Do Not Steal.

-

I am a man of simple pleasures.

-

He looks just right.

-

Well, this is awkward.

-

As of this date, that was the last currently available page for Dream Crusaders. I am enjoying this fan-interpretation of a failed project quite a bit. It might be just a load of fan-service and entirely self-indulgent but it's the passionate, dedicated sort of fan-service driven fanfiction.

-

It is everything Noctis Sol was not: the exact opposite of a soulless, dull, visionless drivel, one that actually takes the time and care to properly write sufficiently-defined characters and consistent story beats. I will continue to read it in the future.

-

Conclusively, it's a fun read and the artwork is high quality, more professionally sequenced and framed than the *official* webcomic series. Unfortunately, you would have to go through that abomination in order to get to the good part.

---

With this dream firmly behind us, like a distant memory of childhood, it is time to burrow ourselves down, deeper and deeper, into the Cabbit Hole in order to unearth older, much more obscure materials. Next time, we enter the positively drizzling underworld of Klonoa's "scanlations" and any remaining miscellanea, thus finally bringing my archive up to speed. Stay drowsy, fellow Phantomilians.

[PART 3]

[andillwriteyouatragedy]

opening a fic because the premise seems dope and the writing looks good and then getting absolutely obliterated by bad character work

they would NOT do this they would NOT say that i am OUT OF HERE

[veryberriart]

Drawing big Refs for my bigg bois!!!

I drew these guys back and forth since I started high school like in 2015! Old, old ass times... and every design aspect andevotion they change so much but I keep some elements constant through the years such as what they are and a basic ability rundown. I call this premise I wanna make "Experimental Monsters" and as the title blatantly describes, there's monsters.... and they're also experiments!

A lil snippit of the story is that an alien called Four in English created bioweapons consisting of four nassive beasts each specializing a powerful yet equally as destructive ability such as acid that can melt whatever with ease, electricity able to power cities for years without tiring the user as well as wipe out massive areas of lands to smolder with one strike and others I'll descibe more when I draw it!

Here's the first experiment along with the concept of his human disguise and the 'original shape' Four describes as a berserk form.

This guys names Phillip, and he's the aforementioned living battery/ electic death beast. The arms are more elongated with the berserk and released states and are compsed of a conductive element kind of like copper on Earth so he can charge his attacks for more firepower with the add-on of intimidating the target (you know, the "oh fuck" moment before getting absolutely obliterated by a ray of painful light)

I have a lot of details and more descriptions bout all of them as well a little reasonings why they all look so humanoid in comparison to their creator but too much to write in one go!! I'll do it gradually for my sake and whoever read this far (thanks by the way, it means a bunch :D )

[lecanardjoyeux]

Unpopular Opinion

Act 4-A is the best ending to Aviary Attorney.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ALL GAME ENDINGS BELOW

4-B (Égalité) is obviously meant to be the “best” or “good” ending, with 4-C (Fraternité) as the “okay” ending and 4-A (Liberté) as the “worst” or “bad” ending.

While the outcome for 4-B is definitely the most preferable for everyone involved (it’s the only one where Cocorico lives), it’s kind of, well... boring. I mean, the premise of the trial is novel and fun (in that you don’t actually have a hope of winning it and are not really trying to win it at all). I also like that Falcon and Sparrowson have a successful and thriving defense attorney business on their hands. But Falcon doesn’t really seem to have learned anything by the end of 4-B. He comes across as a largely static character. Whatever personal arc he undergoes really isn’t that prominent and is almost undermined by Falcon wanting to take a vacation rather than jump into all of the new work coming his way. It’s definitely the happy ending, and I’m glad it exists, but it also leaves me wanting more. As for 4-C, I really appreciate getting to see the approaching revolution from the perspective of the rebels. I enjoy all of the interactions between Falcon and Beaumort as she forces him to reevaluate his beliefs about justice and the justice system. However, depending on your choices and how you read Falcon’s actions (are Beaumort’s words really getting to him, or is he just playing along to save his own skin?), it’s not always clear whether Falcon ultimately turns rebel himself or if he’s just gained sympathy for the Second Republic and their cause. The “open” ending, with Falcon legally declared dead but clearly having survived the destruction of the barricade, is an interesting choice for sure. It leaves me with more questions than answers, though, and in this particular case, it’s a much more frustrating situation than a satisfying one. In my opinion, then, 4-A is the most interesting and therefore “best” ending to Aviary Attorney.

As a huge Sparrowson stan (Sparrowstan?), I absolutely love getting to play as Sparrowson for the majority of the act. Finally, my boy gets the respect he deserves and is granted his own license to practice law (temporary as it may be). And you get to play as the prosecutor! It’s utterly fascinating to be tasked with approaching a court case from the other side for once.

While I appreciate the way the Viridian Killer storyline is woven into the action of 4-C, the absolute drama of how it plays out in 4-A can’t be matched. Yes, the vigilante violence that Falcon commits is terrible. But the way he just breaks in the catacombs, his belief in justice and the world obliterated in an instant... it’s the tragic stuff that the best character arcs are made of. And the duel on top of Notre Dame! The ominous, gothic music and the escalating tension (you, as Volerti, have to choose to fire or not fire your gun after each count!)... it’s one of the most genuinely thrilling story climaxes I’ve witnessed in ages. 4-A is dark and tragic, yes, but so is all of the best French literature.

I do think the choices you make as Sparrowson during the conversation with Falcon at the end, however, play a huge part in determining your personal enjoyment of 4-A. For me, “I’m going to be a defense attorney.” and “No.” are the only acceptable answers. At the end of the day, one of my favorite aspects of Aviary Attorney is the relationship between Falcon and Sparrowson, so of course my version of Sparrowson is going to follow in Falcon’s footsteps (at least in terms of career); as Falcon himself points out, Sparrowson is good at “playing the hero.” Also, beyond not wanting to send Falcon to his death (whether or not he deserves it), I think it makes a lot of sense for “No Siding with Any Ideologies” Sparrowson to still be uncertain about what constitutes “justice” in this difficult and personal situation. (I’m also admittedly a sucker for a morally-gray man who’s spent time in a mental asylum, but that’s beside the point.)

Still, I can absolutely understand why other players would pick “I’m going to be a prosecutor.” and “Yes.” instead. Those choices do make for a particularly satisfying and internally logical conclusion, given all of the events and other choices presented throughout 4-A. Regardless of what fates you ultimately choose for Falcon and Sparrowson, I personally find 4-A to be the most dramatic, intriguing, and satisfying ending to Aviary Attorney. Even if it’s the “bad” ending, it’s still the “best” of the three.

[bullet-prooflove]

Chasing Fires - Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek: Chapter Six

Brian Zvonecek has spent most of his adult life fighting fires, now it’s time to chase one.

Follows on from Million Reasons but is a stand alone fic.

Tagging   @orileyfiction for all her help and support! Also @me-ladie​ for being the wonderful person she is and betaing.

- Chapter One

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

The Clifford Residence was a mess, Kat had never seen anything like it. The random symbols scrawled on the walls with spray paint, the stench of piss in the air, the furniture absolutely obliterated. She didn’t understand how the family had managed to sleep through all of the devastation. 

“Bill and Maureen Clifford are the owners of the premises. They were in the house with their fourteen year old daughter Caroline when the intruders entered and ransacked the place,” Antonio informed her as the two of them surveyed the wreckage.

“They had to have been drugged right?” Kat said, folding her arms over her chest as she tried to make out the writing on the wall. “Nobody could sleep through this.”

“All three reported splitting headaches and dizziness. The father has those home cameras around the house and captured the whole thing on video. I’m telling you Kat, it’s fucking creepy. The three of them enter with gas masks on and start trashing the room, the mom’s asleep on the couch with no clue as to what’s going on.” Antonio shook his head as his gaze landed on the blanket that had been thrown off the couch in the aftermath. 

“So we’re thinking gas?” 

Antonio shrugged his shoulders. 

“They’re sending your boy up from 51 to do the check.” 

It had been three months since their conversation by the lake, three months since Brian had revealed he had feelings for her. Nothing had changed between them, at least not physically; but that feeling, it was there. It was there when they sat on opposite sides of the couch, binge watching Babylon 5 on Netflix, it was there when the two of them walked around the park, when the two of them took another smoke break outside of Molly’s. It was always there and Kat, she was patient.  She knew  that therapy wasn’t easy, that you couldn’t fix yourself without putting the work in. She couldn’t be the reason that Brian got healthy, he had to do it for himself. 

In three months he had come a long way. He held his head tall when he walked, no slumped shoulders. He seemed to be taking an interest in things outside the job again. He kept up the swimming, the two of them had a regular standing date twice a week. It seemed like things were really brightening up in his world.

“He’s not my boy.” Kat said, nudging her partner with her elbow.

“Not yet,” Antonio corrected before jerking his head towards the stairs. “You take up and I’ll take down?”

“Sure,” Kat said, pulling on her latex gloves. “Let’s figure out what happened here.”

--------------------------------

Caroline’s bedroom looked the same as any other teenage girl’s. The walls were painted in seafoam green, photographs and posters were stuck to the walls, pinned up at jaunty angles. The pastel coloured bed spread was tossed back. There was a doll lying face down, she picked it up and stared at the shattered face before setting it down again. Something drew her attention to the bedspread, a splash of red, pulled back the quilt and saw more, it was vivid and bright, different from menstrual blood. Her heart sank as she took in the bedroom around her, how young this kid seemed with the boy band art adorning the walls and the glitter that decorated her journal on the bedside. She was reading Harry Potter for Christ’s sake.

That rage was in her, she could feel it climbing up her insides as she sucked in a breath, the knowledge that some bastard had come in and taken advantage of her it wounded Kat, cutting her deep down to her core. 

She sensed Brian’s presence in the doorway before he spoke, the gadget in his hand beeping as he lingered.

“The oxygen levels are 19.8% lower than usual throughout the house. It means that there’s another type of gas in here.” He said, flicking the switch on the device to turn it off. “There’s a ventilation pipe out the back, the bad guys most likely circulated it through the system, it would have knocked the family right out.”

Kat said nothing, she simply inclined her head to acknowledge that she had heard him. His gaze lowered to her right hand, her fist was clenched, the skin of her knuckles white. There was a tension in her form, he could tell from the stiffness of her shoulders as he took a step into the room.

“Kat?” he said softly, following the line of her gaze to the blood patch on the bed. “Oh…”

Even with his basic knowledge in first aid he could tell what it wasn’t, it was too vivid, too red. 

“She’s fourteen.” Her tone was abrupt and terse as she spoke.

Brian clasped her shoulder, a show of solidarity in an otherwise dark moment. Her hand came to rest on his, patting it briefly.

“You’ll get him.” 

His voice was full of conviction as he squeezed once before releasing her.

The man that did this, the man who had harmed this little girl, he didn’t stand a chance.

---------------------

The Clifford family were seated inside Ambulance 61, parka jackets pulled over their pyjamas as they clustered together. The parents’ pyjamas were rumpled, slept in. Caroline’s though, they looked fresh, still crisp, they even had the crease still in them from being ironed. 

Kat dreaded this; she dreaded the conversation she would have to have with the 14-year-old girl. Looking at her now it was unimaginable that something so heinous had happened to her, that a monster had crept into her bedroom in the dead of night and assaulted her. 

Gabby Dawson was the paramedic in charge, she sat beside Caroline pumping the blood pressure cuff on her arm before she raised her eyes and met Kat’s. 

“Detective Thompson.” She greeted. “You need to talk to these folks?”

“Just Caroline for now.” Kat said, giving the blonde girl a small smile. “It’ll just be for a minute.”

She looked young for her age, her blonde hair looked as if she’d run a brush through it prior to exiting the building and her hands were pressed between her knees. Gabby’s gaze lowered to the teenager’s pyjama bottoms. Her lips pursed together in a thin line; the corners of her mouth downturned. That moment of realisation…

Kat cleared her throat, drawing Gabby’s attention back to her before she tilted her head at the parents. 

“Come on Dad, we need to get you checked out.” Gabby uttered, drawing the parent’s attention to her as Kat reached out her hand to help Caroline out of the ambulance. 

She moved stiffly, her arm draping over her abdomen as if protecting it. It broke Kat’s heart, it smashed it into a thousand little pieces. She led Caroline around the corner of the ambulance where they wouldn’t be overheard. The girl dug her hands into pockets of her jacket, her head bowed as she kicked at the gravel underneath her slippers.

“I’m sorry I have to ask you this.” Kat said softly, leaning against the side of the ambulance. “Did something happen to you last night?”

Caroline said nothing, her lower lip quivered just slightly as she burrowed even further into the fur lining of her coat.

“Hey, it’s ok.” Kat murmured. “It’s just you and me here.”

Caroline exhaled deeply, her breath pluming in the cool air like smoke. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and nasally.

“I woke up with this pain that I’ve never had before.” She said, gesturing between her legs. “I didn’t know what to do so I changed my pyjamas.”

Kat wrapped her arm around Caroline’s shoulders, guiding her towards the back of the ambulance. The girl huddled in closer, taking shelter in the proximity of Kat’s body. 

“We’re gonna get you to Chicago Med, just so they can run a couple of tests, make sure you’re ok.” Kat told her. “I promise I’m gonna be with you every step of the way.”

[planetary]

like. ugh. they fucked up all the characters, abandoned almost every plot line, randomly wrote out one of the mains (and my fav!!) with a fucking wordless MONTAGE in the VERY FIRST EPISODE OF SEASON 3. absolutely obliterated everyones personality. completely changed the whole premise of the show. fucking garbage

[writer59january13]

Shame and guilt sabotaged mine healthy growth...

and let yours truly not forget emasculation that prickly emotional immobilization whereby these lovely bones subject courtesy senescence

upon cremation reduced to obliteration.

Inching closer to mortality linkedin with concomitant subtle deterioration of body electric finds yours truly (me) speculating what happens

to corporeal essence

when sprawled out on death bed able, eager, ready, and willing to give up the ghost. Resultant baby boomer saddled

with unbridled tumultuousness stirrup (thus his need to pony up)

with delayed emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual development

necessitating self advocacy at present stage of mine existence,

especially where crisis brews,

concerning fruit flies (Drosophila melanogaster)

called apartment unit b44 their home turf.

These pesky, itsy bitsy

teeny weeny, blimey insects

hold Guiness Book

of World Records

to bring about infestation faster than you can say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious within our living quarters.

An adult female fruit fly can lay up to 2,000 eggs on the surface of anything moist and rotting. Within 30 hours, tiny maggots hatch and start to eat decayed food.

Within 2 days, they attain adulthood grown up and ready to mate, too.

While that transition may seem quick, a fruit fly only lives 8 to 15 days.

Run in with management finds innate susceptibility

with anxiety skyrocketing, cuz umpteen instances called out about pestiferous critters supposedly being out of compliance when aforementioned issue necessitated exterminator technician (on quite a few occasions), unbeknownst to us until

then warden Jackie Geiger summoned us into the principal's office,

we got pleasantly informed suddenly finds yours truly and the missus

in violation of rental contract.

Agitation swirls (think F/EF5 tornado)

viciously storming inside me psyche analogous to whirling dervish wreaking psychological havoc.

Resultant outcome with threat of eviction,

triggered a slew of physiological symptoms; I experience full blown panic attack, whereby irritable bowel syndrome kickstarted insync with palmar hyperhidrosis psychologically run me ragged. Linkedin and in tandem with current stress (worse case scenario being homeless) compounded by tsunami courtesy

severe mental health issues stifled healthy growth of

body, mind, and spirit triage.

Internalized emotions wrought quotidian psychological oppression retrospective reflection courtesy 20/20 hindsight reveals absolute zero positive natural development of

body, mind, and spirit extreme cerebral agitation, and social withdrawal compromised (during metamorphosis to manhood) kickstarting and jumpstarting prepubescence quashing, sabotaging, upending, wrenching maturation, education, and socialization

every year since being born free and clear of obvious defects minus alien aberration, Russian collusion..., or basket of deplorable dysfunction

crooked Hillary accusation, and submucous cleft palate inducing severe nasality fraught with arduous speaking difficulty coping, fraternizing, integrating within ordinary circumstances alienated, defied, horrified, mortified, scared, and (frankly) zapped

yours truly, albeit analogous experiencing ferocious, hellacious, torturous... suffering predicated on suppressing and/or repressing moderate slights inflicted upon withdrawn younger self, who lacked adroit, deft, heft... coping with typical situations subsequently aggravating, exacerbating, jinxing... to cultivate, generate, liberate locked potential hypothesized, premised, yoked

infantile grievous inconsolable crying unsolved behavioral mystery venting only for my "mommy dearest," would utter (this from hearsay) exhibiting extreme aversion if other than thee birth mother comforted, cradled, cocooned..., an extremely reticent individual buckling as strapping bullies relentlessly belted jibed, taunted... said teasing begat intimidation (oft times mentioned in other poems)

scrawny kid (me) cowed, fawned, irked, nonetheless I remained passive against blistering, hectoring, teasing, which apothegm turning other cheek avoided getting smashed pumpkin face courtesy subservient stance devotional acquiescence help me dog pose prayer temporarily answered harboring entire being ten thousand feet beneath avast sea of dejection time and again repeated

alas crass harassment absorbed into nucleus of every cell anchored barnacle encrusted tenuous pride in short shrift brewing, abjection, dejection, humiliation... "NOT FAKE" misery inducing suicidal ideation (and actual attempt courtesy anorexia nervosa) spurring serious delineation allowing, enabling, proffering permanent salvation uber vacation to give lyft among livingsocial

years later overlaid earthshaking starry eyed son fault finding fundamentally misbehavior gifted from those I called mother and father.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Andrew Doyle

Published: Feb 22, 2024

Since when did it become the business of the state to audit our emotions? In effect, this is precisely what is happening by means of the various “hate speech” laws that have been implemented throughout Europe in recent years. In Ireland, the imminent Criminal Justice (Incitement to Violence of Hatred and Hate Offences) Bill would represent one of the most draconian forms of hate speech legislation yet produced. And how is “hatred” defined in the Bill? The following is a direct quotation:

“hatred” means hatred against a person or a group of persons in the State or elsewhere on account of their protected characteristics or any one of those characteristics

So hatred means hatred. Glad we cleared that up.    

This kind of circular definition is what we have come to expect from legislators when it comes to this most nebulous of concepts. In his book Censored, Paul Coleman helpfully includes all of the existing legislation on “hatred” from across Europe and, in doing so, reveals that no two governments are able to agree on its meaning. In 2012, the European Court of Human Rights concluded that there “is no universally accepted definition of the expression ‘hate speech’” and a manual published by UNESCO in 2015 accepted that “the possibility of reaching a universally shared definition seems unlikely”. 

When it comes to the statute books, one would have thought that precision and detail would be of paramount importance. After all, we have seen how vaguely-worded legislation is wide open to exploitation. Consider, for instance, how trans rights activists are now claiming that the reference to “sex” in the Equality Act 2010 connotes a sense of “gender identity” rather than the biological designations of male and female. If the state is empowered to imprison its citizens on the basis of “hatred”, surely we need to know what that means.

Hatred, like any emotion, cannot be legislated out of existence. Will we be seeing laws against “envious speech” on the statue books? And what about codes against wrath or pride? If the government were to prohibit narcissistic speech, most of the flag-waving pronoun-declaring gender ideologues would have to be incarcerated. And while this would doubtless create a much more sane and serene society, it would also involve the obliteration of our fundamental values. 

As for “hate crimes”, there is no need for mind-reading in order to determine the appropriate punishment. If I am physically assaulted, it makes little difference to me if the assailant was motivated by homophobia. I would prefer the sentence to reflect the crime itself, not to be moderated according to speculations about the perpetrator’s private thoughts. The state should have absolutely no licence to probe inside our heads, any more than employers should insist on compulsory “unconscious bias training”. In a free society, we are entitled to think and feel as we see fit. And so long as that does not interfere with the liberties of others, that includes the right to hate.

But even if one were to accept the premise that the state must crack down on hateful thoughts – which I most assuredly do not – hate speech legislation is wholly ineffective. Censorship of hateful ideas does not cause them to disappear; it drives them underground, where they can fester unchallenged. Moreover, hate speech laws are easily weaponised by activists seeking to silence their political opponents.  

For example, in the UK we have seen people arrested for “misgendering”; that is to say, for accurately identifying the sex of another person. The journalist Caroline Farrow was investigated by police for six months after an appearance on Good Morning Britain. According to a complainant, Farrow had referred to another contributor’s female-identifying child with a male pronoun during a conversation that took place off-air. And although such instances have not led to convictions, we all know that the process is the punishment. 

As one who has received my fair share of online abuse, I understand that free speech has its downsides. But I choose to ignore those of the obnoxious and hateful ilk rather than call for them to be censored. The price we pay for living in a free society is that unpleasant people are going to say unpleasant things. But their right to do so is precisely the same right that allows us to counter them. If we attempt to silence even our most abusive critics, we are essentially surrendering our principles at their behest. 

No doubt the trans-identifying individual who was described as a “faggot with tits” in a recent case in Spain did not relish the experience. But it should concern us all that the state has intervened and sentenced the woman [I understand that it has subsequently been clarified that this was, in fact, a trans-identifying man] who posted the offending words to six months in prison, suspended on condition of the payment of a €3,850 fine. In addition, she has been banned from employment in teaching and sports for three and a half years. This is the very definition of authoritarian overreach.

Those who are sceptical of gender identity ideology are particularly susceptible to the misapplication of hate speech laws, and there is no way of knowing which other beliefs will eventually be criminalised. Once a state has outlawed “hatred” and failed to define it, the law becomes a cudgel to beat anyone who holds heterodox points of view. Who is to say that a future government might not deem it “hateful” to criticise its policies? What starts with the chilling of free speech ends with the criminalisation of dissent. 

And this would seem to be where Ireland is heading. Last year, the Irish Green Party Senator Pauline O’Reilly made no effort to disguise the authoritarian nature of the new Bill. “We are restricting freedom,” she said, “but we’re doing it for the common good”. Hasn’t every tyrant in history made an identical claim?

In her speech, O’Reilly invoked the notion of “safety” to justify state censorship. “If your views on other people’s identities go to make their lives unsafe, insecure and cause them such deep discomfort that they cannot live in peace,” she said, “then I believe it is our job as legislators to restrict those freedoms.” It is a common tactic of activists to claim that certain opinions make them feel “unsafe” as a means to provoke a censorial response, either from employers or from the state. This is linguistic sleight-of-hand, and the strategy has been remarkably effective. 

The Irish hate speech bill goes further than most of its equivalents in other European countries. It will give the state the right to prosecute those who cause offence under the catch-all of “inciting hatred”, and those found guilty could face up to five years in prison. Even more worryingly, a citizen can be jailed for two years simply if they “prepare or possess” material that could potentially “incite hatred”. And so if you have a gender-critical meme on your iPhone, that could be sufficient to see you jailed. 

In the UK, hate speech laws exist in the form of the Public Order Act 1986 and the Communications Act 2003.  Three thousand people are arrested each year in the UK for comments posted online that have been deemed offensive, and in some cases have even been imprisoned for jokes. If we are to tackle this problem, we might start by repealing Section 127 of the Communications Act, which criminalises online speech that can be deemed “grossly offensive”. Of course, no attempt is made to define “grossly offensive” in the legislation, and so anyone could be vulnerable. 

In Scotland, the situation is even graver. When First Minister Humza Yousaf was Justice Secretary, he was instrumental in the passing of the Hate Crime and Public Order (Scotland) Act. Disturbingly, these new laws can see citizens prosecuted for words they have uttered in the privacy of their own homes. I’m reminded of a speech by William Pitt the Elder, delivered in the House of Commons in March 1763:

“The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all the forces of the Crown. It may be frail, its roof may shake, the wind may blow through it, the storm may enter, the rain may enter, but the King of England cannot enter. All his force dares not cross the threshold of the ruined tenement.”

Evidently, these sentiments would not be echoed by the SNP. 

Given that “hatred” and “offence” are entirely subjective concepts, we should be resisting any attempt to codify in law restrictions against them. No two figures of authority will interpret these terms in the same way and, as human beings with frailties and biases, they will doubtless be tempted to wield such laws against their detractors. If the state is willing to dispense with our right to free expression, there can be no guarantees for any of us. Hate speech laws are an affront to human liberty. It’s time to ditch them for good. 

[thetomcruiseblr]

TW: More Dark Topics

I feel like I need to contextualize my feelings at the beginning of this year, and how completely annihilated my mind was. But there was a string of events that had caused me to be mentally where I had been then.

One of my closest friends left that place on New Years Day morning, and that was also the morning the first chapter of that under*ge/teen (I don't remember whether it was "under*ge," but like I've said, it was never about the number, but the premise of it) r*pe fic was posted. Having those two things happen simultaneously - up until then, me and that friend basically talked every day, and she was increasingly stressed about the way things seemed to be going in the fandom, too - really made me lose my mind.

I started calling [insert ship] the "CS@ ship" to my friends in private. I fucking hated [insert ship]. I genuinely believed that everyone who shipped that ship did so only because they wanted [my former favorite character] to take advantage of a child. I genuinely believed that the only [insert ship] content going forward was going to be under*ge r*pefic. (I know there have been several of the under*ge fics posted lately, and I don't care; I've healed my brain, and I don't take any of it seriously anymore, but back then, for whatever broken-brained reason, I did.) In the beginning of this year, I wanted to ship [my former favorite character] with anyone but R00ster - HangM@v, CyM@v, GoosM@v, whatever. He is my absolute favorite - the love of my life now - but I hated thinking about R00ster because he just reminded me of pain and horror to do so.

I had another friend who was aware of all these things because that was back when I talked to her every day, too, and she knows how all of this absolutely obliterated my mind, but it definitely probably traumatized her a lot, too, to have me telling her these things about some fictional nonsense, and I can understand if she borderline blocks this part of her fandom experience - and me - out.

I had a super fucked brain that took all of these things way too seriously (on top of real-life personal stresses), but it's not like the way I had felt had come out of nowhere. I don't care now, and I get that it's all fun and fiction - I wholly support everyone in their under*ge r*pefic endeavors - but for whatever reason, it really had felt like my world was ending then.

But I guess that part ended up still being true because I have been in Hell this entire year and forever on, perhaps deservedly so, for being such a massive idiot over fictional crap.

[byneddiedingo]

Blindspotting (Carlos López Estrada, 2018) Cast: Daveed Diggs, Rafael Casal, Janina Gavankar, Jasmine Cephas Jones, Ethan Embry, Tisha Campbell-Martin, Utkarsh Ambudkar, Kevin Carroll, Nyambi Nyambi, Jon Chaffin, Wayne Knight, Margo Hall. Screenplay: Rafael Casal, Daveed Diggs. Cinematography: Robbie Baumgartner. Production design: Tom Hammock. Film editing: Gabriel Fleming. Music: Michael Yezerski. Blindspotting sets up its essential high-wire tension early in the film when we see Collin (Daveed Diggs) being given the terms of his probation after being released from prison: the usual no drugs, no firearms, no bad company, and so on. Whereupon we almost immediately see him sitting in the back seat of a two-door car that is bristling with the owner's guns. Collin panics: He has three days left before his probation ends. Things get worse when Collin's best friend, Miles (Rafael Casal), reveals that he's carrying too. Collin panics, and when he's released from the car heads for the truck he's driving -- he has taken a job with a moving company managed by his ex-girlfriend, Val (Janina Gavankar) -- eager to get to his halfway house before his 11 p.m. curfew. And then he's stopped by a red traffic light that shows no sign of changing, even though there's absolutely no other traffic moving. As he fumes in frustration, a man suddenly runs up to the truck, followed quickly by a cop on foot. As Collin looks on in horror, the cop fires four bullets, killing the other man -- we see him fall in Collin's rear-view mirror. Like Collin, the man is Black. And through his side window Collin looks face to face at the cop, who is, needless to say, white. But then the light changes and Collin drives home. Blindspotting is like that throughout, though the rest of Collin's hair's-breadth moments don't involve a fatality. It's about the precariousness of being Black when even your closest white friends, like Miles, don't understand the ease with which things can go suddenly wrong. We're constantly aware of the way the world -- or at least Oakland, the beautifully characterized milieu in which Collin's story takes place -- can suddenly turn against Collin, who just wants to stay out of jail. But the remarkable thing about this real and painful fact is that it's the premise on which a very funny and very insightful movie is based. There are critics who fault Blindspotting for an inconsistency of tone, for having one foot in farce and the other in tragedy, but I think that's the brilliance of the film. It doesn't need to hammer its message home. It can make a point about, say, gentrification by showing Collin and Miles at work cleaning out the "junk" in a house that's about to be gutted and turned into an upscale townhouse, just by taking a look at what's been left behind by its former residents: a wedding photograph, an old photo album, in short, a cache of memories about to be obliterated. And it culminates in a lovely sequence in which Collin comes face to face again with the cop, and conquers the man not with a gun but with a rap diatribe. There are those who think this is only a disguised version of the conventional happy ending, but I prefer to see it as a hopeful resolution of the cultural dissonance in which we now live.