#that’s why Ludwig is so weird now he has so many complexes

[digital999placebo]

back on my usual shit. Tormenting the one I love. A lidl fanfic snippet beneath cut hehehe (a convo between Gilbert and Roderich on the topic of Germany)

[Somewhere in Continental Europe, 1870]

“You can’t be serious about raising him on your own,” Roderich spits acid, “You have no experience or qualifications outside of war, let me do it.”

“If I can manage an army of men, I believe I’m capable of caring for one child.”

“Children are not trained men, Gilbert.”

“You’re the last person I want to be lectured by on this,” Gilbert cuts in and adjusts his position in the chair. “I mean no offence, Roderich, but I rather have Feliciano beneath me than beside me.”

Roderich makes a strangled sound and opens his mouth to retort that Feliciano is perfectly well-adjusted when Gilbert continues.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t doubt your efficiency in raising regular children. You could turn a stuttering fool into a credentialed politician and a tone-deaf cripple to the most renowned pianist. You and your country have a culture that mine does not. Your understanding of music is something I couldn’t even dream of achieving, but what you lack is the ability to admire a well-oiled machine. I want Ludwig to not only be a force to be reckoned with within the political spectrum, I also want him unbeatable on the field. I want people terrified at the mere mention he’s coming… And that is nothing you can provide.”

Roderich nearly laughs at Gilbert’s delusion. The nation before him couldn’t seriously believe that Ludwig, a wiry and mutilated little thing, a walking blasphemy against God and Mother Nature herself, covered in sutures and wrapped in bandages that needed to be changed daily, was going to become anything but what he was created of, dead tissue. He searches Gilbert’s face for a trace of self-awareness and is horrified when he doesn’t find it.

“That– Ludwig won’t even survive that long,” Roderich manages to get out, quiet, angry, and small. He can’t help how his voice shakes and rises. He’s furious, but can’t say why, perhaps because he feels bad for the little thing Gilbert has created, so frail yet already carrying the weight of Gilbert’s expectations, he’s angry because he knows better and he doesn’t know how to make Gilbert understand that. “He’s blind and mute; incapable of even feeding or relieving himself despite his age. You haven’t created a machine, you haven’t even created a person, you’ve created a thing whose only purpose is to suffer a slow death.”

Gilbert’s mouth tightens and he drums an impatient finger against the chair’s armrest, “You’re underestimating him.”

“I’m realistic, one of us has to be. That thing is suffering every day,” Roderich begs. “It’s sadistic.”

Gilbert hits the armrest with his fist and Roderich reels back.

“Don’t call him that! He’s not a thing, he’s the future of Europe,” Gilbert sneers at him, all composure finally lost, “You sit here and speak as though he were to die any day now, yet you beg me to resign him to your care?” –Gilbert wrinkles his nose in disdain– “I can see why Feliciano turned out the way he did, you have no perseverance, no dignity or strength, giving Ludwig to you would be to cut his throat. You’ve never struggled in a way that matters, nothing worth having is easily attainable. Ludwig will be great.”

Roderich trembles with withheld fury and he curls his lips to match Gilbert’s crude sneer.

“Fine,” he spits, “If that thing makes it at all.”

[gimmesomeclout-blog]

The Final Blog Post

For my final blog post of my first year, I wanted to highlight the two topics that intrigued me the most, orientalism and the avant garde. Orientalism is a concept that blew my mind; it made me question the things around me, whether it was a social issue or a product, it stimulated me to ask whether or not it was a produce of orientalism. Orientalism revolves around history; I kept asking myself the question, 'What if history was different?' and would begin to imagine the various timelines that the world could have fallen into. The avant garde fascinated me ; it was interesting for me to research different pieces of art and artists and finding out what was considered groundbreaking for it's time, when you compare these innovative new methods to the pieces that are created today, you can really see how the influence of such an artist or piece has slowly and gradually developed into another style or merged with other ones to create a completely new style or genre.  The various lectures throughout the year have encouraged me to ask more questions than ever about everything around me, the tantalising subjects of each lecture were what made me look at things differently and sparked my curiosity into the world around me and it's origin.

Edward W. Said said in his groundbreaking book, Orientalism, said that Orientalism is the basic distinction between East and West as the starting point for elaborate theories, epics, novels, social descriptions, and political accounts concerning the Orient, its people, customs, ‘mind,’ destiny and so on.”

In essence, Orientalism is a thought process that imagines, emphasizes, and distorts differences of Arab peoples and cultures as compared to that of Europe and the U.S. It often involves seeing Arab culture as exotic, backward, uncivilised, and at times dangerous, whilst simultaneously viewing European culture as civilised, innovative and prestigious.

Because of Orientalism, the Western Civilisation saw themselves as more superior and civilised; since the Western civilisation is the dominant one in history, they painted an untrue picture of those in the Eastern culture. Art, history and all other historical accounts of the Eastern civilisation paint a darker picture for them; showing them to be misogynistic and savage.

An example of this would be the French colonisation of Algeria from 1830 to 1962. French entrepreneurs produced postcards of Algerian women that were circulated in France. Rather than actually capturing the Algerian women in their day-to-day lives, French photographers actually set them up in a studio which made them look strange in the French colonial perspective. The postcards depicted them in a way to make Algerian customs to look exotic, backwards and strange. This is an example of how Arab women were exoticized and eroticised for the pleasure of male European voyeurs who had fantasises of penetrating the harem.

Although Orientalism only refers to the places within the orient, Africa is still effected by the views of the occident. The Western people looked down on Africa when they first arrived there, they saw them as exotic, uncivilised and savage people and then decided that their culture was superior and started the slave trade. To this day, black people are still prejudiced by Western culture; after Hurricane Katrina, people would go to stores and take whatever they could, but when the media showed this: black and other ethnic people were ‘looting’ rather than ‘gathering supplies’ when white people were shown doing the exact same thing.

The historical impact of Orientalism can be seen in both a negative and positive way. The positive way of looking at Orientalism is that it has benefited our technology, standard of life and social life. Because of the history we currently have, everything that has happened thus far has brought us to this age of technology; where we’re able to connect with those on the other side of the world, get information and broadcast our opinions instantaneously. The negative way of looking at the historical impact of Orientalism is much more complex. In this way, orientalism paved the way for white supremacy: we can only make assumptions as to what would’ve happened differently if the moments in history where the occident didn’t see the orient as inferior; would we still have the technology that we do today? Would it be more or less advanced than the present? Would racism between Western cultures and everywhere else still be present? What would beauty standards be like? Unfortunately, there's no way of knowing and all we can do is speculate about what could have been.

The Avant Garde is defined as the new and experimental ideas and methods in art, music or literature; avant garde is the word ‘vanguard’ in French, the vanguard are soldiers who fight at the front line and push forward against entrenched opposition, and the artists, composers and writers who were pushing and innovating past the norms of their time were very much comparable to the vanguard. 

Real progress can only be made through failure and whoever wishes to advance must be prepared to fail. The avant garde is all about constant innovation, taking risks and thinking forward, so that the boundaries are always being pushed. Without the avant garde, the creative arts would be stagnant and would be full of artists, composers/musicians and writers etc. that all do things the same way; there would be no originality and we wouldn’t be able to innovate and improve anything around us.

The avant garde started in the nineteenth century, with artists such as Kirchner, Gaugin and Courbet who were challenging long-established concepts and ideas about art and fighting an entrenched establishment. Kirchner was an expressionist painter from the nineteenth century; he was part of a group called Die Brücke (The Bridge). They were called the bridge because they were trying to abstain from the traditional academic styles and find a new way of artistic expression, therefore forming a bridge between the past style and the present. Kirchner was able to express freedom, energy and feeling through his use of brush strokes and evocative colours. This approach and style is why Kirchner is considered to be an avant grade artist. Unfortunately, Kirchner was labelled a ‘degenerate artist’ by the Nazis, leading his works to be censored and denied the work public exposure. Because of artists like Kirchner, artists were inspired to express themselves in their own ways, this birthed many art movements of the twentieth century such as expressionism featuring artists like Van Gogh and Munch, cubism, futurism and many more.

In the contemporary creative arts, the avant grade are still pushing boundaries of their respective arts and are probably more frequent than ever. Because of the sheer number of people who are now involved in the arts, there are more and more people everyday trying to innovate and expand beyond the norms and beyond what should be possible.

I believe that the avant grade and creativity go hand-in-hand, one cannot exist without the other. One of the most avant garde creatives of our generation, Steve Jobs, said this, “Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn’t really do it, they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That’s because they were able to connect experiences they’ve had and synthesise new things.” Jobs put it perfectly; because of all of these creatives who are able to synthesise new things, the bridge between the past and the present is getting bigger. Creatives are becoming more and more frequent, and there will be a lot of things that will be seen as weird or crazy, maybe it's simply pushing the boundaries of it's respective art, or maybe it's just avant garde.

I’ve learnt a lot from my first year on this course; I’m leaving my first year at Kingston knowing that I picked the right course for me, I have a very good set of lecturers and course leaders and that I’ve gained more than just institutional intelligence from them. I found the subject matter of each lecture very engaging, but it was the lecturers that drove the topics into me and made me question everything around me and within me. As a British-Filipino growing up in a lower-class area, there were social, ethical and racial issues that I witnessed and experienced first hand; it was only because of the lectures that I attended, I was able to understand why such things were and still are happening. The course content is so much more stimulating than I had anticipated; the creative and cultural industries looks at many more problems, issues and stigmas within society and the industry, I didn’t know more than half of the things we were taught before coming onto the course. Hopefully this final blog post has done justice to my lecturers and course leaders, that I am more than capable of being able to talk about concepts and social issues and their effects on society and the industry; that I am more than the fashionable (?), loud-mouthed, quick-to-comment young Asian adult that I appear to be on the surface, and that maybe, just maybe, some of the intelligence, social awareness and understanding of my inspirational lecturers and course leaders may have been passed onto me.

References:

Name unavailable, What is Orientalism? | Reclaiming Identity: Dismantling Arab Stereotypes, Arabstereotypes.org, Website, http://arabstereotypes.org/why-stereotypes/what-orientalism

Name unavailable, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, En.wikipedia.org, Website, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernst_Ludwig_Kirchner

Name unavailable, What is the Avant-Garde? Art Movements & Styles, YouTube, Website/Video, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u0hQydmGdYA

Barbara I Gongini, Avant-Garde Fashion: A Modern Definition - Barbara I Gongini, Barbaraigongini.com, Website, https://barbaraigongini.com/universe/blog/avant-garde-fashion-a-modern-definition/

[robinine-blog]

The Past is a Different Country

Part One can be found here: http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165123148588/the-past-is-a-different-country

Part Two is here: http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165160561770/the-past-is-a-different-country

Part Three is here: http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165268449865/the-past-is-a-different-country

Part Four is here: http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165373103435/the-past-is-a-different-country

Part Five is here: http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165431044155/the-past-is-a-different-country

Part Six is here: http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165626043060/the-past-is-a-different-country

Or if you prefer AO3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/12027279/chapters/27224769

Chapter 7 - Lost

There's a storm on the edges of Donald's mind, he can't think, he can't feel, or he's going to be swept away. He's terrified of being swept away.

Dewey can't afford it.

He holds himself stiffly, there's a dead zone in his mind, the eye of the storm. He has to hold it, he has to maintain it.

It's exhausting. He can't keep this up.

Scrooge gave him a task, something to focus on, and Donald's grateful.

He is.

He thinks he is.

Uncle Scrooge is helping.

Why didn't he help before?

The storm threatens to break him.

No. He won't.

Uncle Ludwig.

Find the Professor.

Uncle Scrooge is helping now. That's all that matters.

The labs are quiet. No one is working down here.

Donald doesn't know what he'll do if he runs into anyone.

Donald finds him. It's not what he expects. Ludwig is always so energetic, a little scattered, always trying to bring everything in his mind into reality.

Instead, Ludwig is sitting on a stool, he's staring at a monitor, lines of calculations running down the screen. There's a photo propped up by the monitor, and Ludwig keeps glancing at it.

He's not noticed Donald.

There's something wrong with this picture.

Donald can't find his voice. Everything is wrong. The air is too heavy. He can't breathe.

Donald can't understand the calculations, they're too complex, endless lines of numbers and symbols blurring together as they rapidly ascend up the screen. His eyes are drawn to the photo.

Imp.

The pain is a sharp ice pick to his heart. He doesn't,  he can't think about Imp now.

But the memory is too close to the surface. Those eyes…

"Professor?" Donald's voice shakes.

His uncle spins around on his chair so fast it threatens to fall. Donald grabs for it, only to end up face to face to Ludwig. The older duck looks haunted for a moment.

Then he smiles. "Donald! Mein nephew! I was just thinking of you. Do you know there's been a time anomaly nearby? I was just tracking it down."

"Try McDuck manor." Donald can't help but be cold. He can't feel the relief he knows should be there.

"Die Kinder?"

"Dewey's gone."

The Professor closed his eyes. He's stiller than Donald's ever seen. But he's seen this before. He let go of the chair and steps back, expecting an explosion of rage.

He knew Ludwig cared for the boys, but his Uncle has always been distant towards them. So different from the uncle he grew up knowing.

He doesn't think the boys noticed. He's their crazy, scientist uncle, they love him. He's fun.

But he doesn't let them close. He never speaks of his family to them. The stories of his childhood and his sweethearts, of his life? The boys don't know them, have never heard them.

"Deuteronomy." Ludwig sighed. Slumping into his chair. "I'm an old Dummkopf."

Donald twists his hands together. He doesn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry." His heart is skipping, the room has gotten dark, he failed, he can smell damp rot, he lost them. He doesn't deserve to be forgiven.

Gone.

____

Dewey leaned over the arm of his seat, letting baby Louie grab his finger.

He was fine. Happy. His Mom was awesome.

That fight had been something else. Like Uncle Donald when he lost his temper. No one else had stood a chance.

Dewey's eyes shifted to check on Huey and Dewey. They were fine. Huey was waving his toy bear, it was a cheerful red, with a sad expression.

Why did he feel weird?

Louie tugged on his finger and Dewey pulled a face at him. Louie smiled, it was already starting to look like his familiar sneaky grin.

Uncle Donald would have blown a gasket if they were in danger.

Louie was fine. Smiling, laughing. Not harmed at all. Not a single feather out of place. Dewey had checked, much to his brother's amusement.

The Ape had gotten off scott free. Barely a mark on him. Nothing compared to the beating he had watched Della dish out on those other guys.

Dewey looked towards the pilot's chair, not able to see his Mom from his seat, but Donald was there, leaning against the co-pilot's chair.

They were still laughing. Still joking.

Didn't they care?

--- The secret door opened without a sound, so quietly in fact that they didn't notice at first.

The opening recessed into a corner, and hidden behind a large claw like machine.

The banging became louder.

Webby flipped on her night vision goggles, and put a finger to her beak. She rolled through the door, and struck a combat pose.

Huey and Louie shared a look. Louie shrugged. Huey rubbed his head.

They followed.

The secret room was set up like a mad scientist's lab. There were the scattered remains of projects, some half finished, some appearing broken with torn steel and smoke marks, while one large robot was chained to the ground.

The kids wandered through the maze of machinery. The thumping noise had stopped, it was eerily quiet.

"This is worst than Uncle Ludwig's lab." Louie whispered to Huey.

"No it's not!" A voice yelled, making the kids jump. Webby dived forward, weaving her way through the maze.

"Is that?" Huey asked.

"Gyro." Louie declared, pulling his brother along.

"Found him!" Webby yelled. "A little help guys?"

"Oh no…" Gyro sighed.

The inventor was tied up on the floor, someone had used ducktape to attach him to his chair, and it had toppled over. Webby stood on the backrest, threatening to tip it over again.

"Webby… please tell me you didn't capture Mr Gearloose." Huey asked.

Webby laughed, "Nah, I found him let this. Do you think there's Beagles boys? Or maybe Emil Eagle? Out to steal another invention?"

"Or Fenton the intern, practicing capturing evil doers." Gyro said flatly.

"Fenton's evil!?" Webby gasped.

"That's not what he said Webby." Louie circled Gyro, holding up Huey's phone. "How did he catch you?"

"Does it matter? Cut me free!" Gyro demanded, straining against the ducktape.

"Or…" Huey tilted his head and grinned, "we could just wheel you over to Uncle Scrooge."

Gyro slumped. "Alright, what do you want?"

____

Itacoatiara was bustling, Dewey had figured it would be a small town, somehow bustling city on the banks of the Amazon hadn't featured in his imagination. There were dozens of small pleasure craft racing up and down the river, taking advantage of the clear weather and not quite tidal waves.

Della had stayed with the plane, while Donald sought out Uncle Scrooge. Dewey had made to follow Donald, but quickly slipped away in the crowds.

The sounds of Spanish and Portuguese filled the air, alongside many tongues that were unfamiliar to Dewey. He kept listening for some familiar English, but if anyone spoke it, they wasn't using it.

There was a trope of tourists dressed for rock climbing, Dewey attached himself to the tail end of the group, nodding at a tall goose. The goose shook her head, but smiled at him, so he figured she was going to start a fuss.

The tour guide at the front of the party was speaking German, so Dewey tuned him out.

Why hadn't uncle Donald noticed?

Uncle Donald always noticed. Normally they had to work much harder for even a chance at slipping something past uncle Donald.

Dewey reached for his phone. "I'm an idiot." He face palmed. His phone was laying on the floor of an empty office back in Duckberg.

No phone. No GPS. No uncle Donald.

"I think this is the most lost I've ever been." He tapped his foot, trying not to attract attention.

The group turned a corner, the street sloping down towards the harbour. They headed up.

Dewey scanned the river, hoping to spot the Spirit of Adventure. Instead, his eyes land on a golden flag, the American dollar sign outlined in bold lines.

Dewey snapped his fingers, "That has to be uncle Scrooge's boat."

@miilkydayz @donaldtheduckdad