There is no law that prevents a convicted felon from running for and becoming president, nor a law that bans someone from being president in prison. Also, if Trump gets incapacitated in someway, many ultra right republicans who equally despise trans people and immigrants and Muslims would happily take his place
And I ask, with all due respect, what is your point?
Do you think I don't know that?
Do you think I am somehow convinced that everything is hunky dory now and we don't have any work left to do?
Are you just determined to be the first of the gloom-and-doomers who show up like clockwork in my inbox, every time some consequence happens to Trump, to morosely insist that no consequences will happen to him? First it was "he'll win re-election." Then it was "the coup will succeed." Then it was "he will never be indicted." Then it was "2022 will be a red wave!" Then it was "he will never be tried." Then it was "he will never be convicted." Now we've moved on, within less than 2 hours of the first US President ever to be convicted of ONE felony, let alone THIRTY-FOUR, "he'll never be sentenced or face a real consequence or lose the election." The goalposts keep moving RIGHT along without even a single pause to acknowledge the difficulty and the value of the progress we have made thus far, and it makes me CRAZY.
Do you people realize how fucking rare it is, both in the world today and historically, for a former (and would-be future) head of state to be held to criminal account by a jury of 12 anonymous ordinary citizens? When that one person, Trump, is the center of the malignant fascist cancer that has spread through this country ever since 2016, and plenty of his cultists are still insisting that it's Trump or nobody for them? When we've actually reached the stage of holding him legally accountable for (some of) his crimes for the first time in his miserable misbegotten life? I suspect that most of you are so deep in the "America is totally broken and the system is useless and we can only Revolute!!!1" rabbit hole that you're bound and determined to argue away every step we take, however slow, as Meaning Nothing TM. Voting? Fake. Fighting to make real progress? Also fake. Everything is fake except our belief that everything is broken and we need the Keyboard Warrior Glorious Revolution!!! As long as you can keep inventing ever more contorted twists of logic to ignore everything else that's happened so far, this makes sense... or something. I guess?
Now we're onto "removing Trump won't matter :(" when a whole lot of people have been fighting day and fucking night to get all the privileged-princess Online Leftists to get off their Che Guevara cosplaying asses and cast a single fucking vote to keep us from full-on-sliding into fascism. A slide into fascism that, again, has been spearheaded and centered around Trump's toxic cult of personality and which is still tied to him in almost every way. Apparently holding him to account (again, which has never happened to him in his life) already doesn't matter because wah wah he won't suffer any consequences. If he loses this election he's probably going to jail for the rest of his life! We would have electorally defeated the greatest threat to the American democratic experiment in 250 years, and frankly a huge part of the fascist far-right hydra that is currently attempting a comeback around the world! This is, yet again:
THE FIRST TIME ANY AMERICAN PRESIDENT, EVER, HAS BEEN CONVICTED OF MULTIPLE FELONY CHARGES IN A COURT OF LAW BY A JURY OF HIS PEERS
and yet we're still hearing that nothing matters and no work has been done and removing him will have no effect???
Come on. Come on. I know it's tiring and it's slow and it doesn't go as fast as we want. But every single damn time the process goes another step, here you people are in my inbox insisting that we're still at zero progress and it means nothing, and lemme tell you, I am Tired of it. Come on. You don't have to jump up and down (my own feeling is glee and vindication but still not relaxation, I will not relax until he loses the fucking election and goes to jail), but you also don't need to keep myopically pretending that all the effort thus far by so many people means nothing. Come on.
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I got RWBY and the Atlas arc on the brain again and I just want to throw some more praise at CRWBY for how they used Jacques in this arc.
They prime us to hate his guts before we even meet him. Everything Weiss has told us about her home life, and everything Blake has said about the SDC indicates to the audience that Jacques is an abusive, controlling, racist shitheel. We know he's awful before we ever see him.
So in these scenes they set him against Ironwood, a character who we're familiar with and came across as dodgy but ultimately on the side of the angels in his past appearances. Ironwood is one of the only two people in all of V4 who is actually supportive of Weiss, and he stands up to the antagonist of her arc every time they interact.
And then we get to V7, and slowly, gradually, it becomes apparent that most of Jacques' interactions with Ironwood are a giant case of "Heartbreaking: The Worst Person You Know Just Made a Great Point." He's frequently right for the wrong reasons (I.E. calling out Jimmy for closing the borders, not because unity in the wake of the Fall of Beacon is important, but because it's hurting his profit margins), but he's consistently one of the characters who calls Ironwood out the most for his fascistic shit.
But because we know he's Jacques and he's awful (and he is awful, this is not a Jacques Schnee Defence Post), the writers are able to bury that a little until all the pieces fall into place in Volume 7.
I could probably write a full-on essay about how good Ironwood's descent into tyranny is, and the role that the villains play in it, because this show is so fucking good when the writers get to cook. Maybe I will at some point.
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I am a bit surprised at your tags saying you like jar jar, I don't really know anybody who's a fan in 2023. What's the appeal there, would you say?
Did people like JarJar more in the past? I remember when the prequels were new, his poor actor almost died from the harassment. Surely the venom against JarJar has only weakened.
But mmmmm...I guess what I enjoy about JarJar is he just. He sucks so bad. Nobody has any use for him. He's not just bad at emergencies and space and knowing you have to pay for food, he's not even good at Gungan-ing.
But he's just kinda allowed to be like that. He's there. The other protagonists are varying levels of Ugh Why but they don't try to solve him. He gets Recognition From His People at the end of TPM and fails his way upward in galactic politics and has good intentions and tries sincerely and fucks up so so bad, and is dumb as hell.
He doesn't get punished by the story for being a loser. He's allowed.
That's what made so many people so mad at him back when, and I do get it because any scene he's in is hard to take seriously, he's walking bathos, he's like Original Swamp Yoda without the redeeming kung fu drama. But also wow yikes no.
Let me sit with this a bit and let me see if I can turn this vibe into words better.
Like @husborth was totally correct in saying the whole Gungan plotline was a waste of screentime, a fun little excuse plot allowed to run riot due to unchecked directorial hubris, and contributed to the prequel films being atrociously paced pieces of cinema. But (somewhat consequently) there's something luxurious about JarJar Binks being allowed to go around existing so much, something I think is prototypical of the whole prequel tone and its contrast to the snappy war-film energy of the original trilogy in a way that...really works to create the atmospheric contrast between life in the Republic and life under the Empire.
The Republic was a bloated ancient mess of a government riddled with corruptions, and badly out-of-whack power balances and decayed support nets that weren't technically corruption but weren't working well either, and inefficiency.
And also what the fascists like to call decadence. You know?
Like one of the consequences of having a tolerant diverse society is that even when poorly run and afflicted with capitalism it is going to be full of fantastically annoying weirdos who don't have anything better to do than embarrass people by talking, and there's nothing to be done about that that morally can be. You can't Force Choke people for annoying and have a free society. We all gotta make our peace with the fact that JarJar Binks has every right to exist.
Not that JarJar Binks is necessary to any specific piece of media. I am not advocating for annoying gag sidekicks in general. But I am saying that JarJar Binks is metaphorically inevitable, whenever people are allowed to just kinda be.
So his presence on some level feels political to me, inasmuch as Star Wars are actually political films at all, which isn't very much. But definitely not none either!
Also I am old enough to have grown less susceptible to secondhand embarrassment so I am able to forgive JarJar his cringe. He can still be a little painful to watch! But I do like that he's there.
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HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER-PUNK (atsv)
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“Brand New Metal” (Hobie Brown & Fem!Reader)
| Hobie helps you pierce your nose.
| SFW, piercing description, needles
| Featuring almost the entirety of my own piercing experience. (Pic source: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) movie)
You pull away for what feels like the hundredth time in five minutes and Hobie’s hand moves outta the way even faster, barely a blur of movement before it’s back within his bubble of space.
“C’mon, Mama, I can’t do this if you keep jumpin’ away from me.”
You shift in place where your butt is planted beside the hard water stained sink. Shoulders dropping you rub your hands down your face.
“I know that,” you grumble.
Problem was, knowing barely qualified as a quarter of the issue, and whoever said knowing was half the battle clearly hadn’t been staring down the point of the thickest needle you’d ever seen in person.
You wave your hand to the metal rod with a grimace. “But look at the size of that thing, Hobes. That’s gotta be overkill.”
Hobie’s accent seems to get thicker as he hits you with a deadpan tone, full brows shading his eyes.
“This’s a twenty gauge needle. I’ve seen you ’old your guts inside you and still make time to bash in some fascists, this’s nothin’.”
In response you flip him off but Hobie - perfectly unfazed - only starts twirling the needle around two latex glad fingers.
His own piercings - of which there were plenty - glint off of the dim yellow lighting of his bathroom like a taunt. Or at least it feels like that to you.
“Look, I already told you piercings ain’t some crucial part of the scene, Mama. You don’t have ta do any of this. It’s all just boxes and labels, the lot of it,” Hobie points the blunt side of the needle at you. “And you know I hate labels.”
“Yeah, Hobes, the whole of Camden knows. Besides, I want it cause I think it looks nice not cause of capitalism’s agenda to make us buy shit instead of looking at whatever human right of the day they’re doing away with,” you shrug and Hobie’s mouth twists to the side for a second before he’s shrugging too.
“Great. Point’s been made then. Pick a struggle.”
“Fuck your struggle,” you frown. “It’ll hurt.”
“Hn,” he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s giving you this narrow look like he’d let you keep this back and forth up for the rest of the day without any complaints though. “Fake ones exist for a reason.”
“Fake ones won’t give me the satisfaction of a real piercing though.”
“The lie that we need to feel pain in order to be worthy of livin’ is also capitalistic propaganda, Luv.”
Now it’s your turn to give him a look; face dropping and one brow rising.
Hobie chuckles.
“Fine.” He grins, sharp. “We both know I know exactly what it is you’re sayin’. I just can’t tell if being an accomplice to yer masochism is fair to me.”
“You wouldn’t deny a woman her creative outlet, would you?”
“S’pose not,” Hobie agrees, taking another alcohol swab and disinfecting the needle again for extra measure.
He eyes you up and down and you smile, fluttering your lashes at him and kicking your heels into his cabinet doors. You needed Hobie to be the one to do this. For one, because you were not going to be able to do this yourself, and for two, because he was really the only person you trusted to puncture a literal hole in your body.
You take a deep breath, now if only you could chill the hell out.
Hobie shakes his head, wicks flopping around and knocking into each other languidly.
“Yer one ‘elluva reluctant participant to this for someone agreein’ they’re a masochist,” he nods to the needle while brandishing it like a knife. He knows you're full of shit, but he’s not about to make your decision for you. “You gotta stop flinching every time light just glints off the needle if you really want this.”
You lock eyes with him, sitting up to your full height and trying not to back away from the metal rod. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the adrenaline rush to kick in.”
“Pretty sure that happens after the pain, yeh?
A huff and your fingers curl over the edge of the counter and squeeze.
“Just…get it over with, Hobie.” You take a deep breath. “Please?”
“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Hobie eases a hand around your jaw and raises the needle. “You know I’ve got you. Now keep still.”
Another deep breath from you and Hobie meets your eye for a second time.
“On three,” he grunts. With your head in his grasp you can’t physically nod so you use your eyes to convey your agreement.
Hobie takes a breath to start the countdown and you inhale with him. You’ve gotten your ears pierced before, you could do this. It was fine. Plus you’ll have a few seconds to prep yourself before he gets to number three. You got this. You both exhale.
“Three,” he states.
Without a second to spare the needle pierces through the squishy cartilage of your nose and your breath catches in your throat. Instantly tears well in your eyes and your face heats up something fierce - like somebody’s holding a blow dryer on the highest setting up to it with zero mercy. Your joints pop, grasp on the counter growing tighter in your attempt to keep yourself from jerking out of Hobie’s hold. The sheer need to not garner an actual injury from the metal is almost solely what keeps you in place.
This wasn’t like an ear piercing at fucking all. Fuck this septum piercing and fuck Hobie too. What the fuck?
“Ow! You motherfucker!”
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I only wrote his accent clearly some of the time; you’ll have to forgive me. I was confusing my damn self, okay? I did my best.
Also what I said about how adrenaline works isn’t really correct so don’t take that as gospel.
Edit: Had this labeled gn!reader on accident at first y’all, that’s my bad. Sorry for any confusion.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.
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Libs and Dems love using that "leopards eating my face party" meme to poke at Republican women and queers but like
Youre asking us to vote for man committing genocide overseas because you think he wouldn't do the same to you. Even though it's him opening the wallet for it to happen and he didn't give a shit when you protested and called and marched for him to stop, did he?
In fact let me see here, what he did was *checks notes* tell the collective USA to get fucked cuz he's gonna keep supporting Israel committing war crimes. Which is currently causing a massive party divide. Headlines from today:
Oh right and he did this.
After he did this already
And hows your healthcare look? Your rent? Your gas tank? Groceries? Your paycheck? Winter is coming up for the USA and how often are you gonna worry about paying the electric bill?
And he wants to use more of your taxes to keep committing war crimes, knowing full well that you're already struggling.
And you think that guy will protect you from Republicans and Fascists?
Him? He's gonna protect y'all from fascism?? The dude cutting educational funding and student work programs for this?
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