something. about. the horror of being sent on an impossible (death) quest and obligations and hospitality politics. the trauma of not having a home, and then the trauma of being in a house that becomes actively hostile to you, one that would swallow you whole and spit out your bones if you step out of line. all of this is conditional, your existence continues to be something men want gone.
it's about going back as far as I can with the perseus narrative because there's always a version of a myth that exists behind the one that survives. the missing pieces are clearly defined, but the oldest recorded version of it isn't there! and there's probably something older before that!! but it's doomed to forever be an unfilled space, clearly defined by an outline of something that was there and continues to be there in it's absence.
and love. it's also about love. even when you had nothing, you had love.
on the opposite side of the spectrum, this is Not About Ovid Or Roman-Renaissance Reception, Depictions And Discourses On The Perseus Narrative.
edit: to add to the above, while it's not about Ovid, because I'm specifically trying to peel things back to the oldest version of this story, Ovid is fine. alterations on the Perseus myth that give more attention Medusa predate Ovid by several centuries. this comic is also not about those, either! there are many versions of this story from the ancient world. there is not one singular True or Better version, they're all saying something.
Perseus, Daniel Ogden
Anthology of Classical Myth: Primary Sources in Translation, edited & translated by Stephen M Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, Stephen Brunet
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Thoughts on Across the Spiderverse
FUCK THIS MOVIE IS PRETTY
My boy Miles is trying so fuckin hard
My girl Gwen is trying so fucking hard
JOE QUESADA FOUND WEEPING IN HIS OFFICE AT THE SIGHT OF PETER B. PARKER GETTING TO BE A FATHER
Hobie and Pavitr are so fucking funny
Spoilers down below
Bro, Miguel, chill. Like, I get it. Buddy fucked up? But the whole “you were a mistake thing? Nah, fuck you too, bro.”
Oh, hi Donald Glover. Like straight up for real live action Donald Glover.
Dude, why tf is the Spot scary? Like, this dude skeeves me the fuck out
The whole Spider Society looks so fucking cool
Hobie lives to instigate and I respect that.
Real talk, I like that at no point was there a straight up pissing contest between him and Miles. Dude is a total bro, and I’m here for it
HOW THE FUCK DO YOU MAKE ANOTHER UNCLE AARON CENTRIC TWIST AND MAKE IT EFFECTIVELY SCARY?
PROWLER MILES ARE YOU SERIOUS?
WHAT DO YOU MEAN “TO BE CONTINUED?”
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It's been a hot minute since I looked at Canada's National Occupation Classification system. I learned about it when studying career counselling in grad school, and it's pretty useful in terms of job-hunting and getting information on what different types of jobs require and pay.
A friend asked me for advice about becoming a therapist so I went and looked. They redid it since I last visited, and oh man there are some chef's kiss decisions.
There are 9 top-level categories, with 1 being legislative and senior management, 5 being arts, culture, and sport, and 9 being manufacture and utilities. So I was looking for my old job's classification, which used to be 4153 - Family, marriage and other related counsellors. Knowing that made searching the government job bank really easy back in the day, because instead of searching "counsellor" "counselor" "psychotherapist" "mental health therapist" "clinical counsellor" etc etc etc to find them all, I just typed "4153" and hit enter.
Anyway, they redid the system and now that job is parked at 41301 - Therapists in counselling and related specialized therapies. Here's the tree to get there:
Cool cool cool. It's tidier, even if the occupations are still a bit messy. (When I dropped out of the field, the different counselling subdivisions were tapping their toes impatiently waiting for the provincial government to let them form their own professional regulatory college. Which still has not happened. Last week my shrink said he'd got an email from the College of Psychologists announcing that it would be gathering all the smaller counselling fields into its own downy breast instead. I have no idea what's happening anymore.)
Anyway. I scrolled down to another job I once worked and HAHA WHAT
Yes. There are only three sub-units of category 44:
Nannies:
In-home caregivers:
And,
Combat specialists
I find this grouping of professions hilarious, appropriate, and deeply validating. No notes. 🧑🍳👌💋
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80s Vampire Movie Steddie AU
No listen hear me out
Steve is working the closing shift Friday night at Family Video (open until midnight. Fucking awful if you ask Steve)
It’s just after eleven and it’s been a surprisingly quiet night. It looks like he might actually get out of here on time for once, instead of being held up by annoying, indecisive customers who leave the store a mess
Aaaand he spoke too soon, because someone just came barreling in through front doors, panting and wild-eyed like they’re being chased by the hounds of hell (or the cops)
(Why do the weird ones always come in on Steve’s shift?)
But then Steve does a double take, because he actually recognizes this guy. Long hair, patched vest, chains–
“Munson?”
It is indeed Eddie Munson, resident drug dealer and fucking nerd of Hawkins High. He’d been doubled over, hands on his knees while trying desperately to catch his breath, but Steve’s voice seems to shock him back into action; he scrambles for the front doors and turns the lock with fumbling fingers
Shit
“Hey, man,” Steve says slowly, watching as Eddie backs away from the doors again, “I don’t want any trouble.”
Eddie looks at Steve for the first time since entering the store, and Steve is simultaneously reassured that he’s not about to be robbed, and put on edge by whatever put that look of terror on Eddie’s face
“There’s–” Eddie gasps, still trying to get his breath back, “There’s something after me!”
“Something? Like what? Like– like a dog?” Steve rounds the counter to stand by Eddie, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up (he still remembers those fucking vicious junkyard dogs he and Dustin’s friends had run into when they’d been out searching for Dustin’s cat; Steve still can’t hear barking without jumping a little)
“No, man.” Eddie shakes his head hard, hair flying. “It was – It was like–”
“Dude, spit it out.”
“Okay, look, I was doing a deal. Met my buyer at the park, next street over, right? And we’re just finishing up when this – he just looked like a guy, he walked up, and I thought we were busted, but instead, he – it–” Eddie swallows hard. “It grabbed my buyer and fucking – it ripped her fucking throat out.”
“What?”
“It had these crazy red eyes and fucking fangs and I think it was, like– drinking her blood?” Eddie’s voice is shrill, clearly still panicked, but all of Steve’s alarm quickly plummets into annoyance
He might not be a pop culture nerd, but the kids have forced him to sit through Fright Night enough times for Steve to know where this is going
“Drinking her blood, huh?” Steve asks flatly. “Like a vampire.”
“I fucking guess!” Eddie shouts, digging his fingers into his hair and tugging
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, man, I think you’ve been hitting your own stock a little too hard. Just take a couple of deep breaths and–”
“Harrington, I’m not making this up!” Eddie snaps, rounding on Steve. “I’m not fucking hallucinating, there’s something out there!”
Holding his hands up placatingly, Steve nods. “I know you’re freaked out right now, but there’s no such thing as vampires.”
“Tell that to the girl whose fucking throat just got ripped out!”
“Munson–”
The argument is interrupted when someone—or something—slams against the front doors
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