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waywardstation · 1 year

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Bad Habits

[SEQUEL TO LEARNED BEHAVIOR] Akari thinks it’s funny that she’s essentially trained Lady Sneasler’s kits to tickle Ingo for food. It starts to lose its humor when it progresses to less playful methods, though.

It's been a while since I got a fic out, hasn't it? Long Covid's taken it's toll on my ability to focus and organize, and sadly write, but I still enjoy doing it just as much as before!! It just takes a little longer to pull things together for now ^^; I wrote this after my friends speculated on a possible sequel to the previous minutes fic I wrote.

OR read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

————

“Ah-hAh! Powder!”

Ingo jumped up from the dojo’s bench with an uncharacteristically-high shout, jerking as if he had been tasered in the back; Powder inadvertently came tumbling out of his coat with the movement, and sprawled onto the ground. The runt seemed unbothered by the jostling; she leapt up and scrambled under her favorite hiding place, the battlefield’s wooden platform, with a plump bean pod between her teeth.

“Good job, Powder!” A fit of giggling from the bench behind him gave away who had orchestrated this, having once again slipped a bean pod into his coat. But this incident had repeated itself enough times by now that Ingo didn’t even need the hint anymore - how did she keep managing to sneak them in?

“I am… aware you find these situations humorous, Miss Akari,” Ingo fixed his crooked cap and smoothed his coat back down, his face flushing somewhat - he was not fond of such an embarrassing weakness of his constantly being exploited. And Akari’s constant incitement encouraged them to start tickling with intent now, rather than doing so incidentally while searching for food. “But I am afraid I must repeat myself; I really must implore you to stop going down these tracks. Do not positively reinforce this, please.”

“Oh come on Ingo, it’s funny!” Akari popped open a pod and munched on one of the beans, brushing it off. His tone sounded a little annoyed or exasperated if she was being honest, but he always got a little defensive after a surprise tickle attack. “They’re just playing with you a little! I mean, it’s not like they’re hurting you or anything, right?”

Ingo remained stern, his expression not one of amusement; it appeared as if he viewed tickling to be just as unpleasant as getting hurt.

“While that is technically true at the moment, I must remind you that they are steadily growing bigger.” He glanced over at Powder momentarily. “This continued behavior is unacceptable, not only because it is inapplicable for wilderness foraging and survival, but because it can also become dangerous for myself, and possibly even other people, as their venomous claws develop.”

The last point especially seemed to put a stop to Akari’s antics; with a look of contemplation, she seemed to consider his words. She was well aware the kits were growing - she got to witness the process almost every day - but she simply had not considered the long-term consequences.

The teen glanced over at Powder beneath the platform, still tearing at her prize with her claws. She knew it would eventually happen, but it was still hard to imagine they wouldn’t always be that size, and of their more subdued temperament.

Ingo’s stern reaction made more sense now.

“I didn’t really think about that.” Akari turned the empty pod around in her fingers. “Yeah, I guess I should stop then. Sorry.”

But by then the damage had already been done, even if Akari herself did stop slipping beans and berries into his coat; the next time Ingo found himself under attack by the kits about a week later, it was entirely unprompted by the teen.

“We’re back!” Akari announced as she entered the training grounds, a basket held securely in her grip, and Zisu and Rei following behind her. Ingo looked over, away from all the sneasel kits he had been entertaining for most of the afternoon - the group had asked him to bring all the sneaslets to work today, so they could see how much they’d grown. The answer was… noticeably.

At the trio’s arrival, all nine kits scrambled towards them in a hurry to greet them, yowling as if they had been separated for thirty years, not thirty minutes. Rei and Zisu happily knelt down to pet them all, but Akari stepped around the tiny sneasels to approach Ingo.

“I take it you all had a pleasant lunch?” The warden questioned, seeming relieved to get a short break from the kits as he watched them swarm his companions. Though, Akari caught the quick glance he threw at the basket in her hands.

“Yeah, it would have been nicer if you had joined us though.”

“I would have if I could.” Ingo’s frown pulled at the mere thought of attempting to bring nine sneasels along, or leaving them unattended at the training grounds to join her, Zisu, and Rei at The Wallflower.

Another glance at the basket. Akari mistook his trepidation for interest.

“I know, I know,” she brushed it off, before holding up the basket. “That’s why we brought you something back!”

Ingo’s expression immediately gave way to worry; it was exactly what he dreaded. “Miss Akari, you really didn’t need to-”

“-No, Zisu insisted!” The teen had expected him to resist. “We know you said you’d be fine, but you’ve been here all day. So we went to Floaro’s, which is why it took so long-”

Akari opened the basket and rooted around inside. She pulled out a Jubilife Muffin, and held it out to him. “-But we got one of these for you!”

Akari made the mistake of presenting it for all of the sneasel kits to see as well. Behind her, Ingo could see a few kits turn their heads towards her, forgetting all about Rei and Zisu in a second. His gratitude was pushed down deeper under another layer of alarm.

“Miss Akari, I appreciate the gesture, but I really couldn’t,” An attempt to prevent the inevitable.

“Really? He added oran berries to these ones, and it’s really good!” She tried to hold the muffin out, in hopes he’d take it.

Ingo barely processed her sentence. His gaze was locked past Akari’s shoulder. Four kits’ eyes were now focused intently on her back, along with Rei and Zisu’s own curious looks going between her and said kits.

“Perhaps later, I will try it,” The warden held his hands up, clearly not accepting the muffin. He wanted her to just put it back in the basket.

Another glance over her shoulder. Akari now had the attention of all nine sneasles. They stalked, approaching her carefully with a few more calculated steps.

“Fine, but it’s not as good when it’s cold,” Akari shrugged, seeming to finally accept his rejection. But by then, it was too late - all nine kits finally took off, racing towards her.

They were actually going to attack Akari.

Her hand still holding the muffin out, Ingo grabbed it and held it for the sneasels to see their original target no longer had what they desired. The horde immediately diverted from their route. They rushed around a surprised Akari, pouncing to instead latch onto Ingo’s pantlegs.

“Mochi, Duchess! Nettle! No-!” Ingo attempted to correct all the eager kits before they could climb any further up his legs. But his stern voice did nothing to stop the sneasels as they continued to knock into him and pile up.

Together, the tiny sneaslets felled their caretaker. With combined tugging on the pant legs and the collective weight of nine sneasels putting him off balance, Ingo was pulled backwards onto the ground. The moment of vulnerability cost him; the sneasel pile swarmed on top of him in seconds, like a flock of hungry staraptor on a single unfortunate cherubi.

The kits got to work immediately; it only took seconds for Ingo’s demands to crumble into hysterics.

“Hey, hEy-! Gh- nOho!” Ingo’s awkwardly-stifled bouts of laughter overtook any attempt to put authority in his voice as the group of sneaslets ganged up on him, pestering his most ticklish spots in hopes that he’d let go of his food. Nudging muzzles, nibbling teeth, and scritching claws - by this point, the kits had learned quite well how to quickly wear Ingo down. It took considerable effort for him not to roll over defensively, his fear of crushing them barely overpowering his desperate reflexes to protect himself. “Please! C-ceASe-! Before one of you- gaH!”

Before anyone could even move to help him, Ingo cut himself off with a sudden exclamation that sounded genuinely surprised, and not in a good way. The horde of sneasels abandoned him as quickly as they had pounced on him, leaving him behind to lie on the ground in front of a stunned Akari.

It only took a moment to become apparent why; their efforts had quickly been rewarded. Balm had managed to pry the muffin from Ingo’s weakened grip and had whipped around to bolt off with his prize as fast as he could, greedy as ever. The siblings’ cooperation instantly dissolved, and the rest of them raced after him in an attempt to steal the prize away, yowling excitedly.

Ingo quickly sat up to defend himself in case another attack would be imminent. But when it was clear the sneasels were too focused on chasing each other, he let out a sigh of relief and reached over to situate his hat back on his head; it had been knocked off in the squabble.

Akari stood there, trying to process what had just happened. Any amusement she normally would have felt gave way to confusion from being caught off guard, then slight concern as she realized Ingo was focused on his hand that previously held the muffin. “…Are you ok?”

“I am alright, but Balm appears to have bitten me… quite hard.” Genuine surprise in his voice overtaking any irritation Akari was expecting, Ingo inspected the soft part of his palm, now peppered with tiny red tooth marks. A few clearly had broken the skin, where new droplets of red began to spring up across his red-smeared palm.

“Here, here,” Akari hastily reached into her satchel for a few scraps of bandaging, handing it to him. The sight of Ingo’s blood dripping down his hand sent a sudden pang of guilt through her. And then that sent another pang when she realized it took Ingo getting hurt to feel this bad about it. “They’ve bitten you before?”

“Yes. However, they have never drawn blood like this.” Ingo wrapped his hand securely, making sure the bandages covered every puncture.

Akari didn't know what to say to that. She glanced back over at the sneasel kits, now roughhousing over mere crumbs by the training ground’s fence, as Zisu helped Ingo back to his feet.

If the kits had ever used their teeth, they always nibbled on him gently enough to just tickle him. They never bit him hard enough to draw blood. And if any kit was going to bite that hard, Akari had expected it to be excitable Chomp, not mild-mannered Balm.

This wasn’t as playful as it used to be.

Ingo’s warning of the kits’ development and all the problems that would come with it popped up into her mind again. Was this happening every time he had any kind of food out around them anymore? Ingo hadn’t wanted to accept the muffin from her at first; was it because he knew this would happen? She had stopped slipping food into Ingo’s coat to encourage them, but had she done it to the point of teaching them to do it independently?

…Perhaps, Akari realized, Ingo’s reason for skipping lunch today had extended further than simply wanting to babysit the kits attentively.

————

Ingo was not at the training grounds. He had been expected there early that morning, but he never showed up.

Akari only waited a total of fifteen minutes before telling Zisu she’d make sure he was ok, and had set out to go look for him. He had promised her an early-morning battle the day before, and he always made a point to follow through with his promises. If he didn’t show up, that meant he either came down with a debilitating illness overnight, he had gotten seriously injured on the way to Jubilife, or the Miss Fortune Sisters had decided to try and roadside rob him… again.

All three were situations he’d need help with though if he still was yet to show up, so Akari had set out immediately, backtracking on his usual route to Jubilife from the highlands.

It had both relieved and worried her that she had made it all the way to the base of Mount Coronet without finding a trace of him. Where was he?

Surely he wasn’t still in Lady Sneasler’s den; it was almost noon by now. But, she had to be thorough. So Akari trekked up the mountainside, taking care to make sure no predatory pokemon were watching her as she deviated from the worn trails, and climbed up the cliffside to the entrance of Lady Sneasler’s den.

“Ingo?” She called out tentatively into the cavern. “Are you in here?”

There was no response.

But… she heard something quiet inside.

Were those the kits she heard? Akari shuffled a bit further in.

Squinting hard as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, Akari bore witness to a massacre.

Nesting material was sifted about in uneven heaps, as if there had been a struggle. A multitude of shining eyes stared wide in the darkness, catching the dull light from outside as several faces kept focus on her. A motionless foot could barely be made out in the dimness underneath them, sticking out of a mass of indistinguishable, furry forms. The familiar black shoe that was expected to cover it was nowhere to be found amongst the site, most likely lost in the nesting layers.

Something had certainly happened here.

“Ingo?” Akari repeated with both a bit more alarm and certainty this time. The small forms with bright eyes collectively went stiff in the darkness, and a muffled groan sluggishly responded. The form beneath the kits moved ever so slightly.

“…Mmmiss Akari..?” The familiar voice slurred, as if half awake from a fever-induced sleep.

A short yet incredibly heavy stretch of silence, as Akari’s mind stalled on what to do.

Was he hurt? How bad was it? Why wasn’t Lady Sneasler here? Did a wild Pokémon try to get into the den, and did it maul Ingo in his efforts to protect the kits? She still couldn’t see all that well, what if he was bleeding out, or-?

One of the many pairs of bright eyes flickered out of view as one of the indiscernible kits lost interest in Akari and lowered their head, presumably back towards Ingo. A second later, a subdued jolt of almost-laughter was heard, and the foot sticking out of the sneasel pile jerked suddenly.

“Taro, no-”

…Oh.

Akari knew what had happened now. She let out a sigh of relief as Ingo continued to chuckle listlessly into the nesting material.

“…S-some assistance, please-“

————

Ingo bit into the pecha berry, wiping away the juice with the back of his hand (which still felt quite sluggish and heavy) as he chewed thoroughly.

At least he could somewhat feel it on his tongue now, and his fingers were beginning to tingle. That was a good thing; it meant the berry was finally starting to lessen the venom’s numbing effects.

Ingo sighed through his nose as he chewed, and rested his head back against the cavern wall; with stiff nerves and muscles, it still took a lot of effort to hold his head up at this point.

He remained there like that for a few moments, until he became aware something had entered the den. A lethargic glance over, and he met eyes with Akari as she approached to sit down next to him.

She had returned from taking all of the kits outside the den, both to wait with them for their mother to return and hear what had happened, and to give Ingo some time to eat his pecha berries in peace, without fear of them attacking him for it.

“Um, Lady Sneasler just got back.” She reported after a moment of silence. “I told her what happened. She’s scolding all the kits right now.”

Ingo could hear her yowling from outside, muffled by the cavern walls. The tone was very upset, even more so than he had expected, if he was honest.

“So they just… attacked you while she was out hunting?” The teen’s eyes flitted away from the cavern entrance back to Ingo, who’s own eyes were still closed. With his gaze off of her, she freely observed the tiny scratches peppered around his skin. They were tinged purple around the edges, faded compared to earlier but still noticeable.

“You’re on the right track.” Ingo paused eating to respond. “I believe they had simply become impatient for Lady Sneasler to return with breakfast, and thought they could instead awaken and pester food out of me as they always do, despite carrying none myself. Yet when I unsurprisingly relented nothing, they grew more aggressive with their efforts, until, well…”

Ingo trailed off. He didn’t have to say anything else, Akari knew the rest of it. He bit back into his berry, static still on his tongue.

“Ugh,” the teen leaned forward, hugging her knees. “Look Ingo, I feel really bad about all this. Like, really, really bad. I’m sorry, they wouldn’t be doing this to you if I hadn’t kept encouraging it.”

Ingo didn’t exactly jump at the chance to defend her as he chewed on his pecha; while he usually took care not to speak with his mouth full, she had a feeling he was more so agreeing with her, but saving face by not voicing it.

And she couldn’t blame him, he had told her to stop more than once.

“…I believe things simply derailed slightly more than you intended.” He summed up instead.

She would accept that. “Yeah, they did.”

Ingo swallowed down the last of his pecha berry and relaxed into the nesting materials, now just waiting for the pecha to continue doing its job. “But, this cannot continue; I must set them back on the right track. As Lady Sneasler’s caretaker, I am also responsible for the development of her young, and their success will reflect my abilities as a warden. They cannot sustain themselves on this method in the wilderness. And if anyone is harmed by this behavior, I will be at fault.”

Akari did not really know what to say to that. “So, um, do you know how to get them to stop doing this?”

It felt incredibly awkward - if not humbling - asking if he knew how to essentially clean up her mess.

Ingo simply shook his head. “I will be honest; a problem has developed that I am unsure how to surpass. This is Lady Sneasler’s first litter that she’s had under my care, and I admit that raising Pokémon entirely from adolescence is a different track from battling alongside them, the latter of which I can only faintly recall explicit experiences with. And they ignore any of my attempts to dissuade them. I am… not entirely sure how to conduct corrections to this specific behavior.”

Akari didn’t quite know either. It had progressed past the point of controlled incidents where it would only happen when she initiated it with a well-placed berry or bean pod, and developed into relentless attacks when food wasn’t even present, but simply desired.

She had no idea how to properly correct something as specific as this. But she felt obligated to at least try and figure it out. She put Ingo in this position, and felt he was being incredibly forgiving by not berating her for doing such a thing in the first place.

Though maybe, he suspected she was already doing that to herself enough.

“Well, look. I kind of did this to you. I’m the one that taught them it was ok to attack people for food.” Akari fiddled with the end of her scarf. “So it’d only be right for me to help, uh, un-teach them. I know Irida’s coming next week to check on them all, and I don’t want to hear you got in trouble because they all attacked her or something.”

The mental image of that disaster seemed to make Ingo chuckle a little bit. She knew he was still under the effects of the poison then, because normally he wouldn’t have considered something like that humorous enough to laugh at.

“The tracks to their desired destination may be long, but help may shorten it. Your assistance in their correctional training would be greatly appreciated,” He finally responded to her offer. His general acceptance eased her guilt somewhat.

“Great. Tomorrow then, we start?” Today would be better, but she didn’t think Ingo would be in any state to start that today.

“Tomorrow fits my schedule just fine.”

#submas #ingo #warden ingo #akari #sneasel #hisuian sneasel #pokemon akari #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends #pokemon #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #waywardstationfanfic #sneasel enrichment gone wrong

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impkeen · 1 year

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hi~! i’m 𝑒𝑣𝑒 (s/h) 21+, i’m a little late to posting an intro, because if timezones are going to do anything, it’s whoop my ass. most of what you’ll want to know can be found on his pages, but below the cut are some good old-fashioned bullet points about incidental superstar, commercial model, pretty boy, and true north’s “4D” lead vocal, 𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑜𝑛 𝑑𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑜𝑛. i don’t use d-scord much, but if you really, really want/prefer to, i can absolutely give it to you; i’m generally 🆗 with using tumblr to get the job done, though. like this to let me know you’d like to plot! either way, i look forward to writing with all of you! :-)

personality

doyeon makes friends pretty easily; he doesn't have any pretenses about the sorts of people he wants to hang out with, and the only real requisite is that they're honest. however, he does admittedly tend to be drawn particularly to people with a certain quirk or oddness, or even misery, about them.

as a friend, he's loyal and unafraid to call people on their bullshit, which is why he appreciates reciprocity in honesty. he enjoys a bit of back and forth banter, platonic flirting, etc. he's a playful chap; it's how he shows affection. skinship is case-by-case, but never off the table. he's down for most things and is pretty much a must-call in a heist situation.

his love language is time spent, so he's likely the sort of friend to be happy doing as little as accompanying his friend on an errand run or sitting next to them while they both do their own thing. he's an extrovert, (or an ambivert, at least) and that alone probably justifies it in his head. some time is better than no time, especially when you look at how precious of a resource free time is in this line of work. he's a carer, he cares. don't mention it.

on the other hand, he likely makes enemies just as easily. his candidness is as charming as it is potentially grating. he's not shy about his opinions and it's not impossible that he's rubbed people the wrong way in doing so, and equally possible that he's joked around with someone too "roughly" and ruined their opinion of him by being an asshole. he's moody and unpredictable, so he definitely antagonizes people on his worst days, or even just when he's bored.

he's vaguely polyamorous in the sense that it's entirely plausible that he could earnestly, deeply be in love with multiple people, but he probably lacks the actual emotional maturity to enter a polyamorous relationship without getting jealous / it ending in disaster; he’s very stingy about the people he loves.

that being said, his genuinely romantic (that being relationships that go beyond the physical) endeavors probably happen few and far between. he's a hopeless romantic, but his whole thing is that he loves the idea of being in love, even loves dating, but he wants to make sure he's with someone that's worth the emotional energy or the inherent risk of ruining everything.

he'll absolutely flirt, though.

facts

his older sister is a backpacker who's traveling the world, but she’s also pursuing a law degree, so he's a little annoyed about her going the extra mile to be a woman of the world and free and well-traveled, too, while he rarely has agency over what country he’s in at any given time span; but he also still thinks the sun shines out of her ass after spending his whole life following her around like a puppy.

his mom is a pastry chef, his dad is a chef and the co-owner of a cafe somewhere in seoul, and they’re both textbook perfectionists, so his whole way of rebelling against that is by being slightly obscure and following his whims. which backfired a little bit, because look who's an idol!

contrary to what you might believe based on him being the way he is, doyeon thinks kpop is at its best when it's unapologetically happy, and weird, and all that other fluffy stuff, so he's a legitimate fan of groups that do cute surreal concepts.

he crochets! close friends of doyeon have absolutely received various crocheted items as gifts at random! he especially enjoys making hats and scarves.

he has a stuffed animal he's been sleeping with since birth that he's torn up literal hotel rooms to find. like, it's that serious.

he's a big handyman in general; if you need someone to help you build furniture or fix a leaky faucet, or anything, really: he's your man. he's great at putting things together.

he is entirely too cute for a man his age, but he's simply. like that. by design. sorry, bro’s a cutie patootie.

talent-wise, i'd say he's very well-rounded and capable of picking up just about any skill. his baseline is generally above average because of how long he’s aspired to be in this line of work, so when he applies himself, he's really exceptional. the problem is that he rarely does. he’s like a gifted kid who moved up into a curriculum that required him to actually study instead of coasting by.

he's very by-the-books in terms of being an idol and is the first to be like "😣 guys, i dont know about this..." if something steers too close to a potential scandal, but still winds up in the mix half the time, anyway, so.

reigning light-weight champion of fan service.

he's bi. historically, his taste in women is truly milf-coded women and his taste in men is big idiots, but he's open to all kinds of people. he falls for men most often, but has been interested in women often enough that it can’t really be written off as incidental.

he's an optimist, but he is also constantly fighting for his life, so it might not even be working.

his favorite movie is scream (1996) and i feel like that says a lot about him somehow.

he is in a constant state of having to remind himself that someone asking about his hobbies doesn't warrant a soul tie

he's like a nesting animal, just picking up bits and bobs and trinkets because he thinks they look neat. he's buying postcards from every country he goes to, to make a collage someday.

he's kind-of a dick when he's in his feelings; vindictive and spiteful on the worst days (like, cause strife in your marriage vindictive-and-spiteful), but he also tries really hard to smooth things over after the fact, because consequences for his actions are scary.

generally speaking, he wants to diffuse any tension, awkward or otherwise, and keep everyone comfortable, if he can, because he really just has no idea how to resolve conflict as a third party, so he'll play jester if he has to.

sometimes you can just tell that he was spoiled as a child. even though he tries to be better and conscious of that sort of thing, he definitely has his moments.

his idea of flirting is probably just staring at you until you realize that he's in love with you. it's really obvious when he's into someone, but it's also entirely plausible that he's simply tripped and fallen into every relationship he's ever been in by pure luck and circumstance and good old-fashioned boyish charm.

he's the polar opposite of shy, so he's one of those people who's friends with people you wouldn't even expect him to be friends with. like, what do you mean you're friends with a 40-year-old street vendor in srilanka, doyeon? how did you even meet that man?

his aesthetic is very atemporal-but-vaguely-early-00s techie who just sort-of throws things on in the morning, and makes it work somehow; he prefers headset earphones over airpods, unless he's on a run or something.

he's got a decently projected voice when he's singing, but his speaking voice is like a third of the volume unless he's yelling.

100% “babygirlified” by his fanbase.

he acts shamelessly but he is actually really easily embarrassed. you can tell because his ears get super red, as much as he’d like to play it off, but he does well on variety shows, because of this willingness to kind of sacrifice his image for the sake of a good tv moment.

very flexible for no good reason.

he's got a master's in domesticity, somewhat of a clean freak.

you could probably drag this man to hell, if you made it sound fun enough.

#thefourintro #[ i'll go about mssgs and such tomorrow!#/ 𝔬𝔬𝔠 /

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theohonohan · 1 year

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Search tactics

I often find great stuff by Googling interesting quotes whenever I come across them. Often the search turns up the original source of the quote, or other documents in which it appears, with or without additional context. It's a lateral, associative way of browsing and Google continues to support it very well.

There is a paper by Marcia J Bates from 1979 which is one of the only things I've seen about information search tactics. Two of the tactics Bates enumerates are STRETCH and SCAFFOLD:

STRETCH. Naturally enough, one tends to think about information resources in terms of the uses for which they are intended. However, almost all reference sources can be used productively for some other purpose than intended. The internal organization of a file or reference book is designed around certain uses. Thus, access via certain record elements is provided, and access via other elements is not. But even though formal access is not provided, that other information is there in the source nonetheless. Introductions, which are outside the formal internal file organization of an information source, may also be informative in unexpected ways. In general, it may be assumed that the most efficient searching involves using sources for their intended purposes. But when such approaches fail, answers may still be found by putting in the harder work to ferret out information incidentally provided. Thus, to STRETCH is to use a source for other than its intended purposes. However, it should be kept in mind that to STRETCH effectively the searcher must first think differently, he/she must think about all the information that is in a source, not just about the ordinary uses of it. For example, after searching unsuccessfully through many directories for the address of an engineer, the searcher may recall that patents contain the name of the inventor and also the business affiliation, since the patent is usually owned by the company she/he works for. If the engineer has patented anything, then the address should be available in the nearest patent file. SCAFFOLD. Hodnett discusses the use of what he calls “auxiliaries” [24, p. 94ff.] which are aids in problem solving which may or may not themselves be a part of the solution, but which make the solution possible. The technique of using auxiliaries is often employed in mathematics, where a seemingly irrelevant theorem is introduced, a theorem with little intrinsic interest, but one that enables the main theorem to be proved. The use of scaffolding in construction is another such example. When the building is finished, the scaffolding is torn down, but the building could not have been built without it. In information searching, it is sometimes the case that the shortest route through the file structure is a dead end. In that case one may build a roundabout path to the answer by going through files or sources that themselves may seem to have nothing to do with the question. One may acquire an additional piece of information that in no way contributes directly to the answer but which makes it possible to search for the answer in some other source. Thus, to SCAFFOLD is to design an auxiliary, indirect route through the information files and resources to reach the desired information. For example, after unsuccessfully seeking information on an obscure poet, the searcher may find out who the poet's contemporaries were and research them in hopes of finding mention of the poet.

These sound interesting, although Bates doesn't give examples of the strategies in use, so I don't have a totally concrete idea of them.. What is clear is that they go beyond a simplistic pearl growing approach that just chases graphs of citations and/or coauthorships.

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read-and-reflect · 2 years

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Wedding and Wine

John 2:1-11 describes for us the first miracle (or sign) that John includes from Jesus’s ministry. John seems to have carefully chosen what stories (and what signs) he would include in his account of the life of the Savior. After all, in chapter 20 John tells us that “Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book, but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:30-31, ESV).

John chose his stories for a reason. He considered these to be important to help people understand who Jesus was and what he was here to do, and to inspire belief and devotion to him. So it’s a bit disappointing, I think, that this text seems to receive rather limited attention. I believe I can say without much doubt—at least in my personal experience—that this sign is the least discussed of any in John, and quite possibly less frequently discussed than quite a few other miracles that are described in other gospels.

If we stop and think for a moment, perhaps that should surprise us: after all, not only is this one of only a few that John chooses to include at all, it seems to be the very first public miracle that Jesus performs. Unless we think of Jesus as some apprentice miracle-worker, who began with simple projects and worked his way up to more impressive acts of power, we might do well to ask why he chose this—of all signs he could have chosen—this to begin his public ministry.

I suspect, though I haven’t conducted any scientific research to verify this hypothesis, that part of the reason we let Cana fade into the background is a level of discomfort with its content. Perhaps because of the tendency in Restoration circles to teach total abstention from alcohol, we feel a little uncomfortable with the idea of Jesus not only drinking wine, but producing it and giving it to people who are already drunk. So, even when Cana is discussed, the conversation often includes excursions to discuss the alcohol concentration of Palestinian wine or to present the possibility that what Jesus created was not alcoholic at all (despite the reaction of the feast master at Cana suggesting that not only does Jesus know how to make real wine, he knows how to make really good wine).

There is a value and a weight to this sign that we must not overlook. To do that, and to lend our discussion some sort of structure, we’re going to consider three levels of interpretation to this story. We’ll begin with a superficial reading, with the most straightforward applications we might take from the story, and then dive a little deeper into what I hope will be more helpful meaning.

Level 1: Incidental Provision

On a quick reading, this story seems almost to be an example of an incidental miracle. There happens to be a wedding, they happen to run out of wine, and Jesus happens to be there. Knowing who he is, his mother comes to him to save the day. Despite some initial reluctance, Mary pushes the request and Jesus gives in.

We might consider the cultural context and the importance placed on hospitality, to the point that it would be enormously embarrassing for the host of a feast like this to run out of wine. This wasn’t just a minor hiccup, but a desperate need.

We could take several lessons from this reading of the story:

The story represents some core truths about Jesus’s ministry, that he helps those who come to him with needs. On a greater level, he comes to fill what is lacking, to meet what is needed by mankind. And what he brings, the feast master suggests, is even better than what they had before.

Perhaps we read this story as an example of Jesus’s humble submission to the request of his mother. He is respectful and obedient—and truly, we should avoid the temptation of reading his response of “woman” as something hostile or disrespectful. No, that is just how Jesus talks. See the scene at the cross, where he lovingly instructs a disciple to take in and care for Mary as his own mother. “Woman, behold your son.”

Perhaps—an interpretation that I have seen, though it is not mine—this story shows us an example of God’s grace, that he is willing to meet a need when it presents itself even though it doesn’t fit his previous plan. Even though it wasn’t the right time, Jesus seems to say, he graciously changes his plans and begins his visible ministry in order to help those who are in need at Cana.

And with that tidy outline and 3 applications to carry with us, we move right along to the more interesting and comfortable tale about Jesus punishing those who turn the temple into a place of business. That story fits right into our ecclesiastical comfort zones. However, I think there’s more to Cana than that.

Level 2: Signpost of the Messianic Age

Is this miracle really an example of reluctant provision? Is it really happenstance that Jesus is here, at this moment, and reluctantly allows his mother to pressure him into starting his visible earthly ministry ahead of schedule? In other words, does the God-Man who knows the hearts of men (2:23-25) really go to this wedding unaware of what will happen here and what will be asked of him? Of course not, and it is foolish to limit ourselves to an understanding of this narrative that might lead us in that direction of thought. This is no accidental first miracle, but a carefully chosen one.

Perhaps another question to ask: do we treat this story as though John tossed it into his narrative? Is it just an awkward speed bump as we head from chapter 1’s familiar language toward the theological wonder that is chapter 3? We just have to get through chapter 2, and then we’ll be back in comfortable territory. No, John is purposeful about what he places in his gospel. This sign was carefully chosen and placed. We’ll notice this if we pay heed to the themes that John has already been putting forward.

John has been emphasizing Jesus as the fulfillment of prophecy. He is the Messiah, the one of whom the law and prophets spoke (1:41, 45). He is the promised king, the promised suffering servant, and the prophesied connection between heaven and earth.

John has emphasized Jesus as one who provides something that is greater than what came before him. He brings the fullness of grace and truth (1:17-18). He brings a baptism not just of water, but of the Holy Spirit (1:26, 33).

Both these themes continue as points of emphasis in this narrative. It fits in thematically, which we’ll see, and even in its specific location: at the end of chapter 1, Jesus referenced back to the story of Jacob’s dream in Genesis 28. When we go back and read that story, we might notice that the dream story also leads directly into a story about a wedding (well, two weddings) and even includes details about drinking something that comes out of stone. I doubt that is an accident. Instead, that narrative connection should focus us as we read the Cana narrative. It should force us to ask, how does this fit in? What purpose does it play in Jesus’s ministry, and what does it reveal about him?

Wine and Weddings

Like everything else, this story must be read with the knowledge of what came before it. Specifically, we should be thinking about the important motifs of wine and weddings in the Messianic prophecies of the Old Testament. Let’s take a quick trip to get a taste of this wine.

In Deuteronomy 28, abundance of wine and oil is connected to blessings and curses of the Law.

In Isaiah 1:6, 22, the spiritual state of the people is connected to their physical state, as promised in the Law: oil is unavailable, and their wine is mixed with water.

Isaiah 24 presents a picture of broad judgment, with earth under a curse, and an emphasis on lack (24:6, 7, 9, 11).

Isaiah 25 contrasts 24 with a beautiful picture of God’s salvation: a rich feast with good food and well-aged wine. The image here is combined with victory over death.

Jer. 31 presents a great prophecy of restoration after exile and the promise of a future new covenant. It describes the bounty of the land being restored and people rejoicing over the abundance of grain, oil, and wine (Deuteronomy language).

In Joel 2-3 the Messianic restoration is described in similar terms: abundant grain, wine and oil; vines giving full yield and wine vats overflowing; chapter 3 uses “sweet wine” as a marker of this age, saying “so you shall know that I am the LORD your God who dwells in Zion.”

Additionally, the wedding motif appears in multiple Messianic prophecies. See two for example:

Hosea 2

Here, God through Hosea tells his unfaithful people that there will come a day when he once again betrotheds them to himself, this time in steadfast love, mercy, and faithfulness.

Isaiah 61-62

In a prophecy that Jesus explicitly connects himself (Luke 4), Isaiah describes God removing his people’s shame and clothing them in garments of salvation and righteousness, like a bride is adorned with jewels. In 62:4-5, Isaiah says that Israel’s name would be “My delight is in her” and her land called “Married,” for “as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you.”

So, what does this context mean for our understanding of the wedding and wine at Cana in John 2? Well, the fundamental issue at the wedding is a lack of wine. And Jesus, who just happens (hah!) to be at the scene, provides an abundance of wine. 6 stone water jars that all together would make something like a full bathtub’s worth of wine. He makes oodles, more than they needed. And it was good wine.

Let’s beware of diving into hermeneutical gymnastics in order to twist the description of “good wine” into non-fermented/non-alcoholic wine. Not only does that make little sense in light of the feast master’s words in John 2, but it also ignores the prophetic background of this story. Remember Isaiah 25 and Joel 3, where the Messianic age is marked by an abundance of “sweet” and “well-aged” wine. When the feast master calls it “good” wine in John 2, he isn’t calling it “non-alcoholic.” Let’s be careful not to twist the meaning of scripture to make ourselves more comfortable. Part of the marvel of this miracle, in fact, is that Jesus not only produces grape juice from out of nowhere, he produces something old. This wine was aged from before the foundation of the world (cf. Eph. 1:4).

For those who are paying attention, then, Jesus provides a clear marker/signpost of the fact that he is ushering in the Messianic age. Like Joel 3, he has brought the sweet wine by which the people should know that the LORD their God is dwelling among them. Jesus is here to supply their needs, to restore what has been lacking, and to remove the curse.

Jesus also takes the role of the bridegroom in this story. Did you notice? It was the bridegroom’s responsibility to provide the wine; he is the one who has failed. Jesus steps in and provides the wine, effectively taking on that responsibility, though neither the bridegroom nor the feast master know who it is that really provided the wine.

Finally, we can see the theme of better things coming through Christ showing up in this narrative — I think in two ways. The more obvious suggestion is through the words of the feast master. He tastes the wine and praises the bridegroom for bringing out better wine than they had tasted before, unlike most people would have done.

It’s also interesting, though, that John chooses to mention what type of water Jesus turned into wine. It was water used for Jewish purification rituals. It was cleansing water. And if we think about that, it might remind us of the contrast already drawn in chapter 1 between the kind of ritual cleansing by water that John the Baptist was carrying out, but even he said that something greater was yet to come: he baptized with water, but a baptism of the Spirit was coming through Christ. Jesus brings—no, Jesus supplies—something better than water.

Those connections lend this story even greater power as we understand that it is not randomly chosen or randomly placed, but it is a powerful marker reflecting, for those who are paying attention, who Jesus is and what he has come to do. But we must go one step further, for the swirling cup of prophetic Messianic wine has a more complex color than we might notice at first.

Level 3: A Foretaste of Blood

The wine imagery in those prophecies is not always comforting, but sometimes frightening. Many of them use wine to describe violence and blood, just simply abundance and joy. Wine is not just an image of Messianic restoration, but also of Messianic judgment—sometimes within the very same prophecy! For example:

In Joel 2, the wine vats overflow, continuing the imagery of wine associated with joy and restoration; in Joel 3, however, the image shifts. There another mention of vats overflowing, but this time it is with blood! God is treading out judgment on the wicked in a winepress, an image which itself becomes important in prophecies of coming judgment. In Jeremiah 25, God’s wrath is depicted as a cup of wine that the nations are forced to drink and become drunk.

In Ezekiel 39, we find an incredibly important prophecy where the images of joy and judgment are mixed together in a grotesque picture. God speaks to the “son of man” (as Ezekiel is consistently called in that book, and a title which Jesus has already connected with himself in John 1), telling him to summon all the birds and beasts of the earth to a sacrificial feast that he is preparing for them. This sacrificial feast, though, is one of flesh and blood. They will be satisfied by the flesh and become drunk on the blood.

In the prophets, the concept of restoration is tied to the removal of sin. Salvation is inseparable from violence. Israel is restored after their sin has been punished. They are brought back from exile by way of God’s judgment on the nations that took them captive. As part of that picture, wine is an image of blessing and joy and restoration, but it is also (sometimes simultaneously) an image of judgment, violence, and wrath; because even as God’s people enjoy restoration and atonement and freedom from captivity, God reminds them that those things are impossible without the shedding of blood.

There’s one more prophecy I want you to think about with me a little more carefully, and it comes to us in Isaiah 63. Let’s set the stage, because this chapter doesn’t just appear in isolation any more than the wedding at Cana does.

In Isaiah 59, God sees the sin of his people and determines to bring about salvation by “his own arm” (59:16). He describes a Redeemer who will come to Zion and to those who turn away from sin (59:20). In the next few chapters, God describes the restoration of his people and the blessings that he will bring through the Redeemer.

We already mentioned in Isaiah 61 and 62 the Messianic imagery: God’s servant Redeemer has come with the Spirit of the Lord upon him to proclaim liberty to the captives. He will remove their shame and clothe them in garments of salvation that they may be married again to their God. But even in the midst of this prophecy of hope, there remains a hint of darkness: see 61:2, where the year of the Lord’s favor is also a day of vengeance. How can those contrasting concepts coincide?

In the second half of Isaiah 62, after God has told them what is going to happen, that his redeemer is coming to this marriage feast, he instructs them to set up watchmen (62:6) and prepare the way (62:10). We have this image in our minds of watchmen anticipating and preparing the way for Israel’s redeeming husband at the end of Isaiah 62.

Then, Isaiah 63 begins with the sight of someone coming. Initially, from afar off, his appearance is beautiful. He appears to wear these royal, crimson garments, splendid in his apparel (63:1). As he gets closer, though, the picture changes drastically from what we might be expecting. His garments are not dyed crimson like those of a king, nor are they what you might expect a bridegroom to wear to his wedding. Instead, they are stained: they are stained red like someone who has been treading out grapes in a winepress. And the Redeeming Husband responds: yes, I have tread in a winepress. There was no one with me, no one to help me carry out justice, so I went into the winepress alone and trampled the sinful until their blood (lit. “juice”) spattered my garments and stained all my clothes.

It is a shocking turn of imagery, as Isaiah quickly turns from messages of hope and comfort and beautiful clothes of salvation to this violent image of a Redeemer wearing a robe dipped in blood.

This is an example of prophecy in the OT where there is a more immediate fulfillment in God’s judgment upon the nations who have oppressed his physical nation, but there is clearly a greater fulfillment to be seen in Jesus Christ.

We could connect the red garments of the Redeemer in Isaiah 63 to the description of Jesus Christ in Revelation 19:13 wearing a robe splattered with blood.

We could see the similarity of language between chapter 63 and the description of the suffering servant in 53, who is smitten and crushed and trampled and poured out for the sins of many.

We should connect 63:4 with 61:2. Who is it in chapter 61 that ushers in this year of the Lord’s favor and the day of his vengeance? It is the bloodied Redeemer.

It is into this seemingly paradoxical mess of prophecy that the Word become Flesh descends: this grotesque picture where blood is mixed with wine, where violence is inseparable from salvation, and where his filthiness is placed alongside the redemption of his bride.

He is the wine-maker. He is the source of our salvation; but, as before, this salvation will not take the form we might expect. When Jesus’s hour comes and his glory is made manifest, it will be as he is trampled in the Press of Gethsemane and crushed on the hill of Golgotha. The paradox continues, as God is both presser and pressed, crusher and crushed. The Creator becomes mortal flesh. The Shepherd becomes the sacrificial lamb. The Wine-Maker becomes the wine. He arrives at his own wedding feast with bloody garments, holes in hands and side. There was no one else to help, so he has trodden the winepress alone (Isa 63: 3, 5).

How is it that the mountains drip sweet wine? How is it that the vats overflow? From whence does the abundance of Messianic wine come? It comes from a winepress where God treads upon his own Son. As the cask of his flesh is broached, blood and water mingle together to create sweet wine aged since before the foundation of the world (cf. John 19:34).

Our cups overflow.

Conclusion

At the end of John 1, Jesus suggested to his new disciples that he is what they were looking for and more. They will see greater things than they expect. They will see him become a bridge between heaven and earth.

Here in the Cana narrative, there are two phrases that John uses which point us forward to future events in Jesus’s ministry. First of all, Jesus says to his mother in verse 4: “My hour has not yet come.” In John, this phrase is not used to describe the beginning of his ministry, but the time of his arrest, trial, and death: the passion. Jesus’s glorification, too, the idea of the Son of Man being “glorified” is consistently used by John to describe the time and manner of his death. That language may be a reference back to Isaiah 52:13, where Isaiah is describing the Suffering Servant and the Septuagint reads: “He shall be lifted up and glorified exceedingly.” And both those phrases are used here in this story.

Jesus tells his mother that his hour has not yet come, not that he’s reluctant to begin his ministry but that the knowledge and understanding of this miracle must be contained because it’s true meaning has something to do with an hour that is not yet here.

And John says to us after the miracle is performed that Jesus “manifested his glory” and the disciples believed in him. This is the only one of Jesus’s miracles where John says that. Does that mean that none of his other miracles were manifestations of glory? No, but it reminds us that John has something specific in mind when he talks about the glorification of Christ. This miracle, in some limited way, gave his disciples a taste of what was to come. They didn’t understand it, they didn’t see the full picture, but Jesus showed them a glimpse of the glory that was to come. The glory of a crucified Christ and the blood that he provides.

Jesus supplies physical wine to meet a temporary physical need, but in so doing he prefigures a future hour of greater glory where he will supply greater wine from a greater vessel to meet a greater need. From the very beginning of his ministry, his eye was on the end. This Flesh was waiting to be pierced, that his blood might bring restoration and joy to countless sinners.

We observe a weekly memorial that involves flesh and blood, bread and wine. The Eucharist represents the spiritual truth that those passages were foretelling: that our redemption would come at the price of blood, the blood of the Suffering Servant, God in Flesh. And because of his sacrifice, we enjoy every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places (Eph. 1:3). Through him we have cleansing, through him our need is supplied, through him we have joy and restoration, through him we are clothed with garments of salvation and become part of his beloved bride, the Church.

#sermons #gospel of john #wine

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 19, part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Chilling in Yiling

We start off with Wei Wuxian hanging out in a busy area of Yiling, which is a really dumb place to pick for a fugitive rendezvous.

He's wearing a fashionably distressed brown robe, and a woven disguise hat, that makes him invisible to his enemies until the moment he takes it off, kinda like the mask he wears in his second life. Unfortunately he is a polite boi so he takes off the disguise hat when he goes indoors to get a bite to eat, and promptly gets smacked down by Wen Zhuliu.

Xiao Zhan's stunt double is really good at this wire-pull+table-smash move; this is the second time Wei Wuxian goes crashing through a table (the first one being when Yu Ziyuan was beating him). This time he clutches his now core-less abdomen, in a move we're going to be seeing a lot of, going forward. Abdominal surgery is a bitch. OP can personally attest to this.

Wen Zhuliu provides some comic relief by looking at his hand in puzzlement; he clearly can tell Wei Wuxian has no golden core, but he isn't going to bother telling Wen Chao that.

Wen Chao gloats and steps on Wei Wuxian's hand while Wei Wuxian stares at his shoe and OP wonders, not for the first time, how they make rubberized zig-zag treads in Ancient Fantasy China.

(more after the cut)

This is all happening in the Yiling Wine house where Wei Wuxian will later share the most important meal of his life, the one in which A-Yuan lays claim to Lan Wangji, ultimately giving LWJ a reason to live long enough for Wei Wuxian to be resurrected. If that doesn’t deserve a good Yelp review, nothing does.

Dream a Little Dream of Me

While Wei Wuxian gets ready for his big whump scene, Jiang Cheng is dreaming, and looking absolutely breathtaking in this deceptively simple robe, that's made of a really complex fabric, that catches the light all over its surface. The lighting here is warm and romantic, giving everything a nostalgic glow.

He looks around the courtyard in his dream, and sees Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian come running in the gate carrying kites.

A child fetching a kite was the first casualty of the Wen attack on Lotus Pier, so this image may already be a little fraught for Jiang Cheng. In this initial image of his family, Jiang Cheng isn't present as a child, but then his junior self comes running up, to be warmly greeted by his mother.

Jiang Cheng's reaction to the scene playing out in front of him is not a simple one. We've seen him externally expressing his trauma at the fate of Lotus Pier and his family - his anger and his despair - and this dream shows us his private, interior trauma.

His body has been repaired by Wei Wuxian and the Wens, but his psyche has not.

This family interaction can't possibly be one that ever happened. It's too lively, too affectionate, too comfortable. The family he was part of as a young adult was cold, angry, cracked. Families don't change that much in 10 years, unless there's a major trauma that alters things in a fundamental way.

Even the glimpses we got of his childhood contradict this image. This warm group is not the family of "I sent your dogs away" or "wait in the cold until Jiang Cheng lets you in" or "I won't tell Clan Leader Jiang what happened" or "I'm only 11 but I'm in charge of soup and bedtime already"

Jiang Cheng smiles at the affection he sees enacted in front of him, but quickly moves to grief. When a toxic person dies, you don't just lose the relationship you had with them; you lose the hope for a better relationship. Perhaps Jiang Cheng has always imagined this version of his family; now nothing like it can ever come to be.

The pleasant scene vanishes into nightmare, as his mother starts bleeding from her eyes, ew. This is like Nie Mingjue when he qi deviates, but dream Yu Ziyuan is perfectly chill about it.

Jiang Cheng is not perfectly chill about it.

He turns around to see Lotus Pier burning. When he turns back, his family has been replaced with Wen Zhuliu, who is particularly gleeful as he reaches into Jiang Cheng's chest and melts his core.

Jiang Cheng wakes up on the mountain, alone (as far as he knows), and quickly stands and boots up his new golden core.

It's purple, because of course it is. King. The nightmare is gone and he smiles, maybe for the first time since the attack on the pier.

In a moment that is probably going to feel really embarrassing in hindsight, he kneels and bows toward the mountaintops to thank Baoshan Sanren, who is totally not there.

Wen Ning, on the other hand, is there, although we only see a little bit of his belt and robe as Jiang Cheng walks off to Yiling to meet his brother. This entire plotline walks a very weird line in which the audience is told just enough about what’s really happening to be confused, but not surprised.

Do the Whumpty Whump

After some initial roughing up, Wen Chao has his dudes stand Wei Wuxian up so he can question him without actually getting any information out of him at all. They take turns calling each other dogs, with Wei Wuxian saying that when Wen Chao talks he just hears a dog barking. (Of course if he really heard a dog barking he'd be terrified)

Then he says "isn't that right" to Wang Lingjiao, and Wen Chao gets super pissed; don't disrespect me to my woman.

He has his minions do a Nancy Kerrigan to Wei Wuxian's knee and then kick him for a while.

Then they kick the shit out of the camera operator.

Wen Chao is really not about fighting his own fights. He also keeps threatening to have Wen Zhuliu melt Wei Wuxian's core, and Wen Zhuliu keeps popping up his hand and then putting it back when Wen Chao changes his mind, which gets more hilarious every time I watch it. Feng Mingjing’s physical embodiment of Wen Zhuliu is endlessly entertaining, even in scenes where he has literally no lines.

I Ain’t Afraid of No Ghost

Wei Wuxian continues to goad Wen Chao, telling him that more torture is good because then he'll die with loads of resentment. He says that after he dies, he will come back as a ferocious ghost, which is...almost exactly what happens, except he stays alive for the ferocious part.

They go back and forth about the feasibility of this whole haunting plan. Wang Lingjiao is the voice of reason, for once, arguing the "ghosts aren't real and anyway fuck this guy" position.

Wen Chao thinks that he can’t haunt them because of cultivator security hardening procedures soul-calming rituals, but Wei Wuxian wasn't born into a gentry family so didn't have the anti-fierce-ghost treatment that other cultivators get.

This is the only time in the whole of the show when Wei Wuxian says, himself, that he's the son of a servant. He's using his reputation as a commoner to bolster his threats.

Wei Wuxian is working hard to put on a scary-guy persona, which works pretty well on Wang Lingjiao but not as much on the rest of the group. Three months from this time, however, he will have become the scary, vengeful creature he's currently spitballing about. He will also become way, way better at torture than the people who are currently mistreating him.

Wang Lingjiao and Wen Chao go through a whole sequence of ideas about what to do with him. For whatever reason Wang Lingjiao doesn't insist on chopping his arm off even though she's been craving it for ages.

She does gleefully burn his burn some more, causing it to bleed directly into the giant obvious bag he has hanging from his belt leaking resentful energy. Which the Wens do not take away or search.

Wen Chao, incidentally, starts calling him Wei Ying during this encounter, which is rude of him. Tch. Finally Wen Chao decides on a plan, which involves sword-flying effects so terrible that no soul can survive them.

Jiang Cheng is looking for Wei Wuxian in town, wearing a woven hat like Wei Wuxian’s. This...is not a disguise. If you want to be inconspicuous, maybe take that giant piece of silver off of your head.

He hears random people talking about the Wens being in town, and then he apparently looks up at the sky and sees the Wen dudes flying on their swords with Wei Wuxian, but it looks so ridiculous that Jiang Cheng's mind cannot process what he is seeing.

While they "fly," Wen Chao delivers a massive brick of exposition about the burial mounds, while Wei Wuxian looks genuinely frightened. The VFX of random, undifferentiated mountaintops and clouds do nothing to sell this menace, but the exposition is actually pretty good, creating a real sense of disturbance and threat.

Then they toss him in, and we go from the terrible VFX of sword flying to a visual effect that they mercifully did really well throughout the show - the black resentment smoke. This time it catches Wei Wuxian and holds him for a few moments, before dropping him the rest of the way to the ground. It also apparently pulls the turtle sword out of his belt bag, but we don't see that part.

They Say That Every Man Must Fall

Having seen Wei Wuxian at his lowest point (so far) and dream Jiang Cheng also in deep distress, we go to the Dafan Wen sibs, who have also reached a breaking point. Because they helped Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, they are traitors to their clan - unquestionably so - and are being punished for it, with Wen Ning having been tortured in addition to being locked up.

I see my light come shining From the west down to the east Any day now, any day now I shall be released

You know how Lan Xichen successfully argued for Wen-Clan-Member Meng Yao's life and status, because Meng Yao betrayed Wen Ruohan to help them? Even though Meng Yao killed a bunch of Nie guys? Wen Ning and Wen Qing also betrayed Wen Ruohan and helped the Sunshot Campaign, without killing a bunch of guys. They should have been treated as allies by the four other clans, but they got diddly.

I’ve Been Dead Once

We return to Wei Wuxian in the burial grounds, where he's lying on the ground surrounded by resentful energy and by strained, desperate voices calling his name. This whole sequence is remarkable, since it effectively communicates the horror he's experiencing, through little more than Xiao Zhan's face and good sound design.

I hang around dying to be tortured You'll never be alone in the bone orchard

The voices call four versions of his name. A variety of voices call him Wei Wuxian, Wei Gongzi, and Shixiong, which (I think) is what the young Jiang disciples would have called him. And in the midst of those voices, Lan Wangji's voice, low and calm, saying "Wei Ying." Upon hearing that Wei Wuxian starts to drag himself up.

For a show with definitely no zombies in it, they sure do use the visual language of zombie films for Wei Wuxian's first motions after hitting the ground. Starting with twitching fingers, then gradually pulling himself halfway up and crawling, lurching across the ground. Wei Wuxian comes slowly back to life, the very first member of his army of the dead.

He makes his way across the ground toward the floating turtle sword. Along the way he accidentally grabs the world's most bowlegged thigh bone; the lack of sunshine in the burial mounds puts the skeletons at risk for rickets. All of the skeletons in the show are exactly what you would expect from the practical effects team that made the demon hand and the animatronic dog.

The turtle sword is roiling with resentful energy, and is talking to Wei Wuxian as he crawls toward it, asking if he wants revenge. And what a coincidence, he DOES want revenge.

He grabs the sword and plunges it into the ground in an explosion of resentful energy. (Ground: why you gotta take it out on me?)

The sequence ends with the most compelling, ominous shot of Wei Wuxian's face...a new man.

Soundtrack: 1. I Shall Be Released by Bob Dylan 2. Beyond Belief by Elvis Costello

Writing Prompt: The Day Wei Wuxian arrived, from the POV of a Burial Mounds ghost.

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #cql #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #wei wuxian #burial mounds #jiang cheng

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

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Recommendation engines and "lean-back" media

In William Gibson’s 1992 novel “Idoru,” a media executive describes her company’s core audience:

“Best visualized as a vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organism craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed. Personally I like to imagine something the size of a baby hippo, the color of a week-old boiled potato, that lives by itself, in the dark, in a double-wide on the outskirts of Topeka. It’s covered with eyes and it sweats constantly. The sweat runs into those eyes and makes them sting. It has no mouth…no genitals, and can only express its mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire by changing the channels on a universal remote. Or by voting in presidential elections.”

It’s an astonishingly great passage, not just for the image it evokes, but for how it captures the character of the speaker and her contempt for the people who made her fortune.

It’s also a beautiful distillation of the 1990s anxiety about TV’s role in a societal “dumbing down,” that had brewed for a long time, at least since the Nixon-JFK televised debates, whose outcome was widely attributed not to JFK’s ideas, but to Nixon’s terrible TV manner.

Neil Postman’s 1985 “Amusing Ourselves To Death” was a watershed here, comparing the soundbitey Reagan-Dukakis debates with the long, rhetorically complex Lincoln-Douglas debates of the previous century.

(Incidentally, when I finally experienced those debates for myself, courtesy of the 2009 BBC America audiobook, I was more surprised by Lincoln’s unequivocal, forceful repudiations of slavery abolition than by the rhetoric’s nuance)

https://memex.craphound.com/2009/01/20/lincoln-douglas-debate-audiobook-civics-history-and-rhetoric-lesson-in-16-hours/

“Media literacy” scholarship entered the spotlight, and its left flank — epitomized by Chomsky’s 1988 “Manufacturing Consent” — claimed that an increasingly oligarchic media industry was steering society, rather than reflecting it.

Thus, when the internet was demilitarized and the general public started trickling — and then rushing — to use it, there was a widespread hope that we might break free of the tyranny of concentrated, linear programming (in the sense of “what’s on,” and “what it does to you”).

Much of the excitement over Napster wasn’t about getting music for free — it was about the mix-tapification of all music, where your custom playlists would replace the linear album.

Likewise Tivo, whose ad-skipping was ultimately less important than the ability to watch the shows you liked, rather than the shows that were on.

Blogging, too: the promise was that a community of reader-writers could assemble a daily “newsfeed” that reflected their idiosyncratic interests across a variety of sources, surfacing ideas from other places and even other times.

The heady feeling of the time is hard to recall, honestly, but there was a thrill to getting up and reading the news that you chose, listening to a playlist you created, then watching a show you picked.

And while there were those who fretted about the “Daily Me” (what we later came to call the “filter bubble”) the truth was that this kind of active media creation/consumption ranged far more widely than the monopolistic media did.

The real “bubble” wasn’t choosing your own programming — it was everyone turning on their TV on Thursday nights to Friends, Seinfeld and The Simpsons.

The optimism of the era is best summarized in a taxonomy that grouped media into two categories: “lean back” (turn it on and passively consume it) and “lean forward” (steer your media consumption with a series of conscious decisions that explores a vast landscape).

Lean-forward media was intensely sociable: not just because of the distributed conversation that consisted of blog-reblog-reply, but also thanks to user reviews and fannish message-board analysis and recommendations.

I remember the thrill of being in a hotel room years after I’d left my hometown, using Napster to grab rare live recordings of a band I’d grown up seeing in clubs, and striking up a chat with the node’s proprietor that ranged fondly and widely over the shows we’d both seen.

But that sociability was markedly different from the “social” in social media. From the earliest days of Myspace and Facebook, it was clear that this was a sea-change, though it was hard to say exactly what was changing and how.

Around the time Rupert Murdoch bought Myspace, a close friend a blazing argument with a TV executive who insisted that the internet was just a passing fad: that the day would come when all these online kids grew up, got beaten down by work and just wanted to lean back.

To collapse on the sofa and consume media that someone else had programmed for them, anaesthetizing themselves with passive media that didn’t make them think too hard.

This guy was obviously wrong — the internet didn’t disappear — but he was also right about the resurgence of passive, linear media.

But this passive media wasn’t the “must-see TV” of the 80s and 90s.

Rather, it was the passivity of the recommendation algorithm, which created a per-user linear media feed, coupled with mechanisms like “endless scroll” and “autoplay,” that incinerated any trace of an active role for the “consumer” (a very apt term here).

It took me a long time to figure out exactly what I disliked about algorithmic recommendation/autoplay, but I knew I hated it. The reason my 2008 novel LITTLE BROTHER doesn’t have any social media? Wishful thinking. I was hoping it would all die in a fire.

Today, active media is viewed with suspicion, considered synonymous with Qanon-addled boomers who flee Facebook for Parler so they can stan their favorite insurrectionists in peace, freed from the tyranny of the dread shadowban.

But I’m still on team active media. I would rather people actively choose their media diets, in a truly sociable mode of consumption and production, than leaning back and getting fed whatever is served up by the feed.

Today on Wired, Duke public policy scholar Philip M Napoli writes about lean forward and lean back in the context of Trump’s catastrophic failure to launch an independent blog, “From the Desk of Donald J Trump.”

https://www.wired.com/story/opinion-trumps-failed-blog-proves-he-was-just-howling-into-the-void/

In a nutshell, Trump started a blog which he grandiosely characterized as a replacement for the social media monopolists who’d kicked him off their platforms. Within a month, he shut it down.

While Trump claimed the shut-down was all part of the plan, it’s painfully obvious that the real reason was that no one was visiting his website.

Now, there are many possible, non-exclusive explanations for this.

For starters, it was a very bad social media website. It lacked even rudimentary social tools. The Washington Post called it “a primitive one-way loudspeaker,” noting its lack of per-post comments, a decades old commonplace.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2021/05/21/trump-online-traffic-plunge/

Trump paid (or more likely, stiffed) a grifter crony to build the site for him, and it shows: the “Like” buttons didn’t do anything, the video-sharing buttons created links to nowhere, etc. From the Desk… was cursed at birth.

But Napoli’s argument is that even if Trump had built a good blog, it would have failed. Trump has a highly motivated cult of tens of millions of people — people who deliberately risked death to follow him, some even ingesting fish-tank cleaner and bleach at his urging.

The fact that these cult-members were willing to risk their lives, but not endure poor web design, says a lot about the nature of the Trump cult, and its relationship to passive media.

The Trump cult is a “push media” cult, simultaneously completely committed to Trump but unwilling to do much to follow him.

That’s the common thread between Fox News (and its successors like OANN) and MAGA Facebook.

And it echoes the despairing testimony of the children of Fox cultists, that their boomer parents consume endless linear TV, turning on Fox from the moment they arise and leaving it on until they fall asleep in front of it (also, reportedly, how Trump spent his presidency).

Napoli says that Trump’s success on monopoly social media platforms and his failure as a blogger reveals the role that algorithmically derived, per-user, endless scroll linear media played in the ascendancy of his views.

It makes me think of that TV exec and his prediction of the internet’s imminent disappearance (which, come to think of it, is not so far off from my own wishful thinking about social media’s disappearance in Little Brother).

He was absolutely right that this century has left so many of us exhausted, wanting nothing more than the numbness of lean-back, linear feeds.

But up against that is another phenomenon: the resurgence of active political movements.

After a 12-month period that saw widescale civil unrest, from last summer’s BLM uprising to the bizarre storming of the capital, you can’t really call this the golden age of passivity.

While Fox and OANN consumption might be the passive daily round of one of Idoru’s “vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organisms craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed,” that is in no way true of Qanon.

Qanon is an active pastime, a form of collaborative storytelling with all the mechanics of the Alternate Reality Games that the lean-forward media advocates who came out of the blogging era love so fiercely:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/06/no-vitiated-air/#other-hon

Meanwhile, the “clicktivism” that progressive cynics decried as useless performance a decade ago has become an active contact sport, welding together global movements from Occupy to BLM that use the digital to organize the highly physical.

That’s the paradox of lean-forward and lean-back: sometimes, the things you learn while leaning back make you lean forward — in fact, they might just get you off the couch altogether.

I think that Napoli is onto something. The fact that Trump’s cultists didn’t follow him to his crummy blog tells us that Trump was an effect, not a cause (something many of us suspected all along, as he’s clearly neither bright nor competent enough to inspire a movement).

But the fact that “cyberspace keeps everting” (to paraphrase “Spook Country,” another William Gibson novel) tells us that passive media consumption isn’t a guarantee of passivity in the rest of your life (and sometimes, it’s a guarantee of the opposite).

And it clarifies the role that social media plays in our discourse — not so much a “radicalizer” as a means to corral likeminded people together without them having to do much. Within those groups are those who are poised for action, or who can be moved to it.

The ease with which these people find one another doesn’t produce a deterministic outcome. Sometimes, the feed satisfies your urge for change (“clicktivism”). Sometimes, it fuels it (“radicalizing”).

Notwithstanding smug media execs, the digital realm equips us to “express our mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire” by doing much more than “changing the channels on a universal remote” — for better and for worse.

Image: Ian Burt (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/oddsock/267206444

CC BY: https://creativecommo

ns.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic

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sprawa-przybyszewskiej · 3 years

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Ekphrasis in The Danton Case, Thermidor, and their adaptations

Ekphrasis is invoking a piece of visual media into a literary piece. It can be done for a variety of reasons, from entirely pragmatic (mostly grounding the literature in reality - if the invoked piece is a real piece of art, one you could find in a museum, for example) or more poetic (drawing some symbolic meaning between the piece of art and the idea behind the text).

In Przybyszewska's plays ekphrasis is nonexistent, at least on the foreground. I don't recall any clearly established visual, given to the readers by the original author. It's not weird in any way - how many pieces of medai do you recall which refrain from its sophisticated and additional piece of subtext and iformation? Hundreds, probably. The only other artistic thing that she has weaved into her plays is La Marseillaise, which is invoked twice in The Danton Case. There are also three book references to Othello, Orlando furioso and this one book Robespierre summarizes to Saint-Just when he's talking about hatred (but of which I have no idea if it's a real one - it probably is - or not). Other than that - nothing, plus the books count only a little, forekpfrasis should be, as I said, visual in nature.

Of course, the historical aspect of her works is what grounds them in our reality, and so cleverly, too (seeing as they're not really historical plays in any way or form, but manage to fool most anybody). And thanks to her extensive stage directions, we have no need of any additional element helping us visualize the scenes, for she does it perfectly enough on her own.

However, seein as these are plays calls for a mirror ekpfrastic effect and thus theatrical and cinematographical adapations are born. And they, on the other hand, have a potential to be filled to the brim with visual refernces. Here I would like to have a look at a few, which are taken from one of the most well known staging and the famous Wajda movie (plus some). In no particular order, there goes:

This is the very first scene of a controversial theatre adaptation of The Danton Case. Instead on portraying Robespierre as a firm leader, who only in the very end collapsed temporarily under the huge responsibility he now had to bear, the director decided to portray him as someone physically weak, not in the sense Danton meant when he called him a weakling, but in the sense of somebody who already bears so much responsibility, pain, physical ailments, doubts and whatnot. Just: everything, everythin a human could possible deal with, he deals with, and has to do so in a way that doesn't make people suspiscious about his "shortcomings". There is a interesting parallel between him and Saint-Just, whose upright and unbreakeable character is symbolised by a neck braces, something which people wear after a spine endangering accidents - and incidentally, wasn't it Saint-Just who accused Robespierre of "breaking his spine"? But not in this adaptation, oh no - here their very last scene is cut extremely short and they recite the last few sentences along with some Thermidor lines as two floating heads, a vision into the future which awaits them.

Enough about Saint-Just, though, let's focus on Robespierre and Marat. I must admit I know next to nothing about him, only what some passage here and there in this or that historical study might tell me, but I know, as does everybody, that he was known as L'ami du Peuple, which is why of the reasons, I think, why the director took this image and transposed it onto Robespierre: to make him even more likeable, to show for the umpteenth time that it is Robespierre whom we should cheer on and whom we should feel sorry for. This might also be a parallel between their both's tarnished health, their premature deaths and - last but not least - the role of an icon of the Rvolution both of them play in nowadays' audience's minds. You don't have to study history to knowwho Robespierre was, you don't have to study art to know this painting. Even if you don't agree with some more in-depth explanation of linking this person to this painting, it is a good opening image. It captures our attention in a good way.

I had mention Saint-Just and there he is, in the background of the picture, symbolically assisting Danton and his clique in their last moments. Instead of shwoign them in torn shirts, the director went into another direction altogether and enshrouded them in white sheets from heads to toes, making them all look like very stereotypical ghosts, whom they will all become in just a couple of moments.

In Polish culture, the first thing that comes to mind when talking about ghosts is Dziady, an old slavic tradition that is now replaced with the Catholic All Souls Eve. Dziady is no longer, apart from perhaps some small minorities who still practice old pagan faiths, but as a ritual, they are immortalised in a play by Adam Mickiewicz, undoubtedly the greatest Polish poet ever. Everybody know this play, some scens - by heart, and they were and are being staged pretty much constantly from one point on. Needless to say, they inspire a lot of art, and I decided to show this very fmous poster by the most famous Polish poster designer, Franciszek Starowieyski…

…who is important in this case, because he played David in Wajda's movie.

Not many people know - because his other carreer overshadowed by a lot his first one - that Wajda was a painter. Who actually hated his art, some of his pieces are in the national museum of contemporary art in Łódź alongside stars such as Władysław Strzemiński (the hero of Wajda's very last movie), which is a fact he absolutely detested. I dont know, nor do I care, why was that, because what matters is his previous education as an artist at the very least helped him not only to envision the visuals of the movie, but also acquainted him with great works of art. On which he could model this or that setup. I think it's a nice little detail he catsed Starowieyski as David, a real painter acting as another real painter, it adds a layer of reality onto the movie, and presumably makes for a more natural acting in the few scenes he was in his studio (I also think they look alike).

Speaking of David's studio, I once stumbled upon a lecture which drew parallels between some scenes in the movie and some paitings, which was mostly focused on character and costume design, and truth be told didn't contribute much to the overall watching experience of Danton. However, I must admit the lecturer had a very good eye in this one particular case, in which he pointed out that this quick shot in David's studio pretty obviously invokes the Fussli's The Artist's Despair Before The Grandeur Of Ancient Ruins. I don't think it's a coincidence (or at the very least, would be funny if it were) this shot is shown during the scene where Robespierre starts to grasp at desperate measures to save the country/save his own face in the trial. It is an artist's despair, only artist of a different kind. And it is a despair when being faced with a (possible) ruin of something great, even if its greatness is not yet formed, as opposed to the greatness passed.

The very last example I was able to think of was this photo I found of The Danton Case from 1975. It is one of those old, very classical (I presume) adaptations, which are mostly filled to the brim with riddiculosly attractive people and very often deliberately drew from other sources of artistry, like the one pictured above. No matter what the real relationship between Louise Danton and her husband was, in the play it is portrayed as something atrocious, and I cringe whenever directors try to make it something else without good reasons for doing so, so I am very glad in the past at least they stuck with classicaly depicted acts of violation against women, not because it is a violation, but because in the classical stories (like the myth of Persephone shown in the sculpture above) the woman will usually get her revenge. Just like Przybyszewska's Louison did.

Thank you for bearing with me until the end, and if you have any other examples of this come to your mind, I compel you to share them with me!

List of pieces of art in the order of their appearance:

Jacques-Louis David, The Death of Marat

Franciszek Starowieyski, Dziady

Jacques-Louis David, Self-portrait

Heinrich Fussli, The Artist's Despair Before The Grandeur Of Ancient Ruins

Gianlorenzo Bernini, The Rape Of Persephone

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lochtayboatsong · 3 years

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The Jesus Christ Superstar essay absolutely no one asked for.

Last weekend, I watched the pro-shot of the 2012 arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar starring Ben Forster, Tim Minchin, and Melanie C, because it was Easter and it was up on YT for the weekend. I never managed to do my annual listen-through of Leonard Bernstein’s Mass this year, as is my usual Easter tradition, so I figured “Why not watch/listen to this instead?” It was my first time seeing and hearing JCS in full, and Y’ALL, it has been living rent-free in my brain ever since. I have a mighty need to get my thoughts out, so here they are, in chronological order by song.

1) Prologue: I love the way JCS 2012 makes use of the arena video screen. The production design and concept clearly took a lot of inspiration from the “Occupy ______” movement, which makes it feel a bit dated now. But every single production of JCS is a product of its time period, so this is a feature and not a bug.

2) Heaven On Their Minds: This is a straight-up rock song. It wouldn’t be out of place on any rock and roll album released between 1970 and 2021, and it boggles my mind that Webber and Rice were both in their early twenties when they wrote it. Also, the lyric “You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say” hits hard no matter the year.

3) What’s the Buzz: A+ use of the arena screens again, this time bringing in social media to set the tone. Also, this song establishes right from the outset that Jesus is burnt out and T I R E D by this point in the story. Seriously, can we just let this man have a nap?

4) Strange Thing Mystifying: Judas publicly calls out Mary and Jesus claps back. Folx, get you a partner who will defend your honor the way Jesus defends MM in this scene. Also Jesus loses his shoes and is mostly barefoot for the remainder of the show.

5) Everything’s Alright: Okay, this is one of the songs I have A LOT to say about. First, it’s important to know that I was a church musician throughout all of my adolescence and into my early adulthood. The pianist at the services I usually played at was a top-notch jazz pianist, and also my piano teacher for about six years while I as in high school and undergrad. (Incidentally, I had a HUGE crush on his son, who was/is a jazz saxophonist and clarinetist and also played in the church band, but that’s a story for another day.) One of the hymns we played a few times a year was called “Sing of the Lord’s Goodness,” which is notable for being in 5/4 time. Whenever this hymn was on the schedule, it was usually the recessional, or the last song played as the clergy processed out and the congregation got ready to leave, so we were able to have some fun with it. After a couple verses the piano player and his son would usually morph it into “Take Five,” a famous jazz standard by Dave Brubeck which is also in 5/4 time. Anyway, the first time I listened to this song in full, it got to Judas’s line “People who are hungry, people who are starving,” and I sat bolt upright and went “HOLY SHIT THIS IS ‘SING OF THE LORD’S GOODNESS/TAKE FIVE.’” And I was ricocheted back in time to being fourteen and trying to keep up with this father/son duo in a cavernous Catholic church while simultaneously making heart-eyes at the son. Final note: This is the only song in the musical to feature all three leads (Jesus, Judas, and Mary Magdalene) and is mostly Jesus and MM being soft with each other in between bouts of Jesus and Judas snarling at one another.

6) This Jesus Must Die: I LOVE that all the villains in this production are in tailored suits. LOVE IT. Also, Caiaphas and Annas are a comedy duo akin to “the thin guy and the fat guy,” except in this case it’s “the low basso profundo and the high tenor.” Excellent use of the arena video screen again, this time as CCTV.

7) Hosanna: My background as a church musician strikes back again. It honestly took me two or three listens to catch it, but then I had another moment of sitting bolt upright and going “HOLY SHIT THIS IS A PSALM.” Psalms sung in church usually take the form of call-and-response, with a cantor singing the verses and the congregation joining in for the chorus. If I close my eyes during this song, I have no trouble imagining Jesus as a church cantor singing the verses and then bringing the congregation in for the “Ho-sanna, Hey-sanna” chorus.

8) Simon Zealotes: This is part “Gloria In Excelsis” and part over-the-top Gospel song. Honestly it’s not my favorite, but it marks an important mood change in the show. The end of “Hosanna” is probably Jesus at his happiest in the entire show, and then Simon comes in and sours the mood by trying to tip the triumphant moment into a violent one. Jesus is not truly happy again from this moment on.

9) Poor Jerusalem: Also not my fave. It kinda reads like Webber and Rice realized that Jesus didn’t have a solo aria in Act I, so they came up with this. But it has the distinction of containing the lyric, “To conquer death you only have to die,” which is the biggest overarching theme of the story.

10) Pilate’s Dream: Pontius Pilate might be the most underrated role in this entire show, and I love that this production has him singing this song while being dressed in judge’s robes.

11) The Temple: The first half of this is one of the campiest numbers in Act I, at least in this production, and it’s awesome. The second half is one of the saddest, as Jesus tries to heal the sick but finds there are too many of them. Also the whole scene is almost entirely in 7/8 time, which I think is just cool.

12) I Don’t Know How To Love Him: Mary Magdalene’s big aria, and one of the songs I knew prior to seeing the full-length show. This production has MM taking off her heavy lipstick and eye makeup onstage, mid-song, which is kind of cool. Melanie C says in a BTS interview that MM’s makeup is her armor, so this is a Big Symbolic Moment.

13) Damned For All Time: The scene transition into this song is played entirely in pantomime, and I love it. The solo guitarist gets to be onstage for a bit, A+ use of the video screen again to show Judas on CCTV, etc. Love it. And then this song is Judas frantically rationalizing what he’s doing, and what he’s about to do, with Caiphas and Annas just reacting with raised eyebrows and knowing looks.

14) Blood Money: This is where the tone of the show really takes a turn for the dark. I think this might be one of Tim Minchin’s finest moments as Judas, because his facial expressions and microexpressions throughout this scene speak absolute volumes. And the offstage chorus quietly singing “Well done Judas” as he picks up the money is a positively chilling way to end Act I.

15) The Last Supper: Act II begins with major “Drink With Me” vibes. (Except JCS came WAY before Les Miz, so it’s probably more accurate to say that “Drink With Me” has major “The Last Supper” vibes.) Jesus and Judas have their knock-down, drag-out fight, and it’s honestly heartbreaking, thanks again to Tim Minchin’s facial expressions. A well-done production of JCS will really convey that Jesus and Judas were once closer than brothers, even though their relationship is at breaking point when Act I begins.

16) Gethsemane: This is Jesus’s major showpiece and one of my faves. Jesus knows he has less than 24 hours to live, he knows he’s going to suffer, and worst of all, he doesn’t know whether it’s going to be worth it. It’s an emotional rollercoaster to watch and to perform, and it goes on for ages: something like 6 or 7 minutes. Fun fact: the famous G5 is not written in the score. Ian Gillan, who played Jesus on the original concept album, just sang it that way, so most subsequent Jesuses have also done it that way. Lindsay Ellis has a great supercut of this on YT. John Legend notably sang the line as written during the 2018 concert.

17) The Arrest: Judas’s Betrayer’s Kiss is played differently across different productions. The 2012 version is pretty tame - I’ve seen clips and gifs of other productions, including the 2000 direct-to-video version, where they kiss fully on the mouth and have to be dragged apart by the guards and it is THE MOST TENDER THING. Then the 7/8 riff from “The Temple” comes back and the 2012 version lets the video screen do its thing again as Jesus is swarmed by reporters.

18) Peter’s Denial: Not much to say about this one, as it’s basically a scene transition. But it’s a significant moment in the Passion story, so I’m glad they included it.

19) Pilate and Christ: The 2012 production continues with the theme of Caiaphas, Annas, and Pilate all being bougie af, since Pilate intentionally looks like he just came from tennis practice during this scene. Also he does pilates...hehehe.

20) King Herod’s Song: Tim Minchin says in a BTS interview that JCS works best when Jesus and Judas are played seriously and the rest of the production is allowed to be completely camp and wild and bizarre all around them, and he is bloody well CORRECT about that. Case in point: King Herod. There is not a single production of JCS that I know of where Herod is played “straight.” He’s been played by everyone from Alice Cooper to Jack Black, and everyone puts a different zany spin on him. In JCS 2012 he’s a chat show host in a red crushed velvet suit, who is clearly having the time of his LIFE.

21) Could We Start Again Please: This is another of my faves. Just a quiet moment where MM, Peter, and the disciples try to grapple with the fact that Jesus is arrested and things are going very, very badly. This is also my favorite Melanie C moment of the 2012 show. Her grief is very real, and the little moment she has with Peter at the end is very real.

22) Death of Judas: This is basically Tim Minchin screaming for about five minutes, and incredibly harrowing to watch on first viewing.

23) Trial Before Pilate: Possibly my single favorite scene in the entire 2012 production. This is another harrowing watch, but there’s so much to take in. The “set” that the entire show takes place on is essentially just a massive staircase, and the people with power are almost always positioned above the people without power. In this scene, the crowd shouting “Crucify Him!” is positioned above Pilate, which is a very telling clue to Pilate’s psychology during this scene. Jesus is at the very bottom of the stairs, of course. Excellent use of the video screen once again during the 39 Lashes, to show the lash marks building and building until the entire screen is a wash of red. Pilate’s counting also gets more and more frantic, especially starting around “20.” And all the while the guitar riff from “Heaven On Their Minds” is playing. Jesus’s line “Everything is fixed and you can’t change it” is played quite differently in different productions - here it’s defiant, but elsewhere (in JCS 2000 for example) it’s almost tender, like Jesus is absolving Pilate for his part in the trial. But it always ends the same - with Pilate almost screaming as he passes the sentence and “washes his hands” of the whole sorry business.

24) Superstar: The most over-the-top number in the show. Judas, who died two scenes ago, comes back to sing this. There are soul singers. There are girls in skimpy angel costumes. The parkour guys from the prologue are back. Judas pulls a tambourine out of hammerspace midway through the song. And Jesus is silently screaming and crying as he gets hoisted onto a lighting beam while all this is going on.

25) The Crucifixion: More of a spoken-word piece than a song, it’s Jesus’s final words on the cross over eerie piano music, and another harrowing watch.

26) John 19:41: An instrumental piece in which Jesus is taken from the cross and carried, at last, to the top of the stairs, before being lowered out of sight as the video screen turns into a memorial wall and everything fades to black.

So. I know I’m anywhere from three to fifty-one years late to this particular party, but I am on the JCS bandwagon now and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself. :)

#jesus christ superstar #jcs 2012 #jcs is all i have been thinking about all week sorry not sorry #ben forster #tim minchin #melanie c #andrew lloyd webber #tim rice

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incorrect-quotes-from-she-ra · 3 years

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Morning! I hope you don't mind if i give you yet another She-Ra thought I'm too damn lazy to post on my own. Also, it's long again. I WILL find that character limit some day.

So, we know the way Shadow Weaver raised Adora resulted, among other issues, in her being selfless to the point of self-sacrifice, which came to a climax in the Heart's failsafe business.

And it's been suggested that this was basically intentional on Shadow Weaver's part. Basically, selflessness is a very beneficial quality for others to have. My theory is that <b>her plan for Adora had always been specifically for her to someday use the failsafe and release all magic</b>.

(i will admit i am also curious how formatting works in this app. thank you for your help with these experiments)

So, evidence. Let's start with her name. I know this is a remake and they were stuck with the existing names, but there's a scene where Scorpia complains about it ("yeah i GET it, everyone LOVES you"), which constitutes the writers acknowledging its meaning, which makes me think it's fair game to analyze.

First, I'm obviously assuming Shadow Weaver choose it, as part of her ongoing parenting plan. It's also possible it was her original First One-given name, we don't know. Neither quite works because either she or Light Hope should have had some issues knowing what the name was and they clearly knew automatically. Really the entire series is weird in that everyone communicates with everyone else way too easily, and i will definitely rant about that someday.

For now let it stand that Shadow Weaver is the parent figure, it makes the most sense for her to pick the name, both in-universe and narratively, so i shall assume so by default. I have two things to say about that choice.

First, as we all have noticed, most of the princesses have names ending in -a. All of them, if you count "Glimma". It's never said to be intentional, but it would make sense. And then IF such a tradition exists among Etheria's royalty, it's not unreasonable for Shadow Weaver, a notable and moderately respected member of the land of knowledge, to know about it.

And then if she knew, of course she would take it into consideration when looking for names. Admittedly it's a little weird with the anti-Princess propaganda that the Horde has, but she doesn't really need to explain or justify this. Hordak has a very [i]laissez-faire[/i] attitude, and everyone else she clearly doesn't care about.

And if she knew or suspected that the princesses' powers were related to the Heart of Etheria, which i will argue for later, then giving her a princessy name is also adequately ironic.

The second name bit is that Scorpia clearly knows some Latin, but not enough. True, <em>adorare</em> means to worship and/or to love, but Latin verbs are more complex than that. _Adora_ specifically is 3rd person singular present indicative active. The translation would be "she loves".

Names aside, i want to talk about how they (we) learned about the Heart of Etheria. Castaspella doesn't know what to do, Shadow Weaver suggests they take a road trip to research, which she's reticent about but concedes is probably the best use of her time, and they find success. We don't know how long it took them, but i had the distinct impression that it wasn't very long.

Naturally, I'm suggesting Shadow Weaver knew all along, and led Castaspella on the trip to have an excuse for the inevitable "how do you know?". Also tricked her into thinking it was /her/ discovery, and maybe even that she was succeeding where Shadow Weaver had failed before, if necessary.

That's why she's so excited to share their results with everybody, and Shadow Weaver cuts her off, apparently just to antagonize her for fun, but I'm suggesting it was also because for her this is the culmination of a decades-long plan, and she wants to Get On With It.

It's also interesting that there was a mural depicting the Spell of Obtainment in the hallway leading to the failsafe. It was a reminder of Shadow Weaver's past, and an opportunity for her to show she regrets her results but doesn't repent from her choices, which i quite like actually. But I'm also saying that, meta-textually, it was a signal that she'd been there before, literally.

And then there is the potential in-universe connection, since we don't know what exactly the spell was meant to be obtaining. Power, for sure, and from what happened we're probably meant to assume it's tapping into some sort of demonic entity or dimension.

Fair enough, except that it never comes up again. And it's kind of a big plot point that Etheria is isolated from the rest of the cosmos, which may or may not conflict with it having a contactable "hell". Meanwhile there's the Heart of Etheria Project collecting all that magic, which Mara's allies (and their descendants) would know something about, have access to at least one backdoor to, and may well have tried to tap into its power at some point.

And then what went wrong may well be one of the defense mechanisms of the Project, though I'm admittedly veering into unfounded speculation.

So, a rough timeline. Light Spinner was always motivated to excel and craved power. She was probably always envied the princesses, who command greater magic than most sorcerers with apparently none of the study and practice.

She took to researching everything she could that might lead to power, eventually discovering the chamber with the failsafe, and presumably other information left by Mara's Friends, either in other chambers or in documents she's since removed. She would have learned a lot of things from this.

As i suggested, i believe she knew there's some connection between the princesses at large and the Heart of Etheria. Incidentally, i don't know exactly what that connection is, and in particular whether princesses were created by the Project or an existing phenomenon that the First Ones co-opted. But it doesn't matter, exactly.

What's important is that there's clearly a connection, more specifically a control system for the princesses and their magic, which is presumably related to how Shadow Weaver was able to tap into the Black Garnet's power. With Hordak's help, obviously, since she clearly believed it when he claimed he could cut her off at will, but he's later shown to have basically no understanding of First Ones' tech, so the knowledge must have come from her.

For the record, i would guess she thinks princesses are artificial, empowered both magically and politically to keep the planet in check, and that they would be depowered once the failsafe was fired. I also think that may be true, actually, since it almost happened when Entrapta was messing with the system, and if i recall none of them were shown to use any magic after Adora did fire it, while she clearly used Perfuma's power. But anyways!

Back to what Shadow Weaver learned, she would know some of what the failsafe does, namely disrupt the system that's hoarding most of the planet's magic, thereby spreading magic to all (most notably her), and some of how to use it, and the fact that she couldn't do so and hope to live, and some of the criteria for who can. That part is important.

But first, she also learned the Spell of Obtainment, deemed it more likely but didn't think she could do it herself, despaired of getting help until she thought Hordak's rise to fame would give her #casus belli#, lost her patience when the Mystacor leadership disagreed, etc etc etc. Pretty uncontroversial in this part, i think.

After she'd joined the Horde, when Hordak showed up with baby Adora and wanted to lump her with the rest of the orphans they have, Shadow Weaver pleaded to have her get special treatment. She even said that she's special, and it couldn't have been her leadership skills or good heart, since she didn't have either yet. It's heavily implied she could recognize her as a First One, but it's not clear why she would care, since they were known for leaving behind advanced technology, which a baby also doesn't have. Unless, of course, she knew there are devices only a First One could use, and maybe has plans related to that.

So I'm pretty sure she learned the criteria that the failsafe requires, devised some spell or technique to check people for them that she pretty much used all the time, just in case, and was very surprised when a newborn tested positive. She was also surprised when Hordak made her personally responsible for the raising of the kid, but her reaction is pretty much "ok, that could work, i guess".

Also also, i suspect she can read First One script. Not perfectly like Adora, but better than Bow's parents probably. Mostly because when she puts Adora's hand on the crystal and says "i think you know the password", that seems like a very transparent attempt to pretend she knows it too when she doesn't. But that seems irresponsible at such a crucial moment, she and Castaspella should really have researched it earlier. Or at least her line there should have been "you can read this, right?" or somesuch.

So I'm thinking it's a double bluff, hoping everybody assumes she doesn't know so she doesn't have to reveal how and why she knows, again.

And that's all i have, i think? This is not nearly as well laid out as i would like. But then, nothing ever is, right?

Also it's not even close to morning anymore. Thank you if you even got this far, and have a good evening!

hi!!! this took me a while to answer, i'm so sorry about that <3

i'm very low on energy today so i cannot summon up the brain energy to respond properly to this, as much as i want to, i'm really sorry for that as well

i love this theory!! it actually fits in really well with canon and makes, like, a LOT of sense now that i think about it. i definitely wouldn't have thought of this on my own, so thank you for sharing this with me!! :D

#asks #leo answers stuff #IM CLEARING OUT MY INBOX #CAUSE I FINALLY HAVE THE TIME #long post #spop meta #shadow weaver

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bilgisticallykosher · 3 years

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5: Making Our Own Sensory Deprivation Tank

TA Masterpost | Masterpost | AO3

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My Thomas Annus discord server!

Sensory Deprivation Tanks allow you to slip away from the noise of reality. The physical world melts away to reveal a deeper understanding of one's self and the world as a whole. But they're expensive. So we made our own.

Word count: 4254

Warnings: cursing, non-sexual nudity, sexual innuendo, sexual jokes and humor, "attempted" murder, drowning sort of?, "attempted" drowning, mild body horror in the end card.

Thanks to @callboxkat for helping me to decide between songs for Janus to sing, like, over a year ago.

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THOMAS ANNUS, THOMAS ANNUS

Janus and Remus were in a bathroom with a filled bathtub. Janus was sitting on the edge of the foot of the tub, feet on the floor, Remus was squatting near the faucet, elbows resting on his knees.

"Sensory deprivation tanks have become very popular," Janus steepled his fingers together. "They provide the user with a sensation of death."

"Or life!"

"Exactly. An in-between, suspended between the two, not knowing what comes before or after."

"A perfectly perfunctory purgatory of precise pinpointed pandemonium!" Remus threw his arms up, hands flopping over.

"But another thing that sensory deprivation tanks are," he gestured smoothly, palm flat up across the room, "is expensive."

"So we decided to make our own! With half the cost and double the danger!" Remus made jazz hands, and Janus rolled his eyes.

"I don't think there's anything that dangerous here." He leaned down to peer at the label on a big bag.

"It is if you're doing it right!" Janus sighed, then turned back to the camera.

"We're doing this to bring the experience of death to you."

"And us!" He tilted his head sharply. "Mostly us." He turned to Janus. "So, what's the main ingredient in these sepfuary desperation tankers?" Joan, still behind the camera, laughed loudly.

"PFFFT!" Janus laughed, "What the hell was that?" He grinned smarmily. "Did you forget how to speak?"

"Sometimes my brain works too quickly for my mouth!" Remus pouted, crossing his arms. "It's not my fault the human body can't fully handle my genius."

"Oh is that what we're calling it now?"

"Anyway, the main ingredient?" He looked at the tub. "Aside from water, at any rate."

"Salt."

"Salt!" Remus shout-agreed, pulling out a box of kosher salt. "Fuels summoning circles, our salty nature, and," he gestured to Janus.

"Sensory deprivation tanks," he finished smoothly. "But not that kind of salt."

"I still have some of those saline packets," he gestured behind himself, jerking his thumb. "Should I grab-"

"Epsom salt," he cut off. "That's what's in these giant bags." He tapped a little on the top of one of them. "In fact, let's get this started now." He pulled on the plastic handle. It didn't lift. Janus side-eyed the camera, and casually gripped it with two hands. He tugged. Nothing continued to happen. "I'm better than this," he hissed. He drummed his fingers again in thought.

He decided. "Remus!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" He saluted.

"Lift this and open it above the bathwater."

"Absolutely!" He grinned, looking excited as he scrambled over. He grabbed the bag with two hands, and gently removed it from Janus's grip.

"We should be careful with-" but Remus had already hefted it up into the air over the tub. It hovered there for a moment, which was just enough time for Remus to summon his morningstar, reel it back, and slam into the bag. The bag tore, spilling salt all over the water. A few handfuls rained down on Janus's hat, and he glared at Remus.

"Now you're as salty as your personality!" Remus reached up, and ruffled his hand through his hair, dislodging the salt.

"Joy," he deadpanned. He turned around, his head out of shot, grabbed his hat off, and gently tapped the salt off of the brim into the water. He put his hat back on, turning back around. Remus stuck his morningstar into the bath, stirring it around.

"Do we need more?"

"Well, each bag is forty pounds," he hesitated.

"And how salty does it have to be?" Remus prompted.

"As the dead sea." Janus shot back. He raised an eyebrow, "that's the one you float in, right?"

"I float in a lot of things." Remus wiggled his eyebrows.

"Well, we want to experience death. So dead sea it is." Remus cocked his head, pulling his morningstar out of the water.

"River Styx is deader," he idly scratched his back with his weapon. Janus brought a hand up to his chin, contemplatively.

"This is true. You'll just have to take a trip there to find out how salty it is." Janus waved him off. "Do let me know the results."

"I think the only components they have there are water and the souls of the damned." He swung his morningstar back around.

"Pity. We're fresh out."

"We're out of water?!" Remus gaped. Janus snorted behind his hand.

"Put the second bag in," Remus grabbed the second bag. "Carefully." Remus pouted, and grumpily used a spike from his star to tear open a corner. Janus turned to address the camera again. "Now, we have here a small sports and action video camera, capable of being mounted and attached, with underwater capabilities," Remus started pouring the second bag into the tub. "That way, we can share the experience at home."

"Yeah! Come die with us! Via the GoPro, or whatever that long, stupid name you said was." Janus rolled his eyes, but let the matter drop. He began to shimmy his whole body up and down with the bag. Janus sighed. "Is this stuff supposed to melt? It's a little crunchy in there."

"Well you are supposed to float." He peered into the water. "Maybe you're just suspended by the rocks." Janus smirked.

"Ooh, let's just get a giant boulder!" Remus grinned back, still shimmying. "Then we'll float real good!"

"You have to still be in the water, though." Janus pointed out, amused.

"What, like all of you or just like a toe or something is good?" He shook the last of the salt out.

"Well, possibly, but knowing you, you'd just sever a toe and huck it into the water." He made a throwing motion. "And the rest of you would just be dry."

"But floating!" He tilted his head. "That toe thing is a good idea, though. They drink that in parts of Canada, could probably make a quick buck." Janus squinted, taken aback.

"They what."

"Yeah, there's some shot that they make from a gangrene toe," he explained with a flippy hand. "It's cold up there, y'know, so I guess it happens often enough. The Sourtoe cocktail!" He got the last of the salt out of the bag, and chucked it over his shoulder. "It started because-"

"Listen," Janus held up a hand, stopping him, "We've got death to experience, there's no time for toe talk." Remus pouted, while Janus peered into the tub. "Hm. It probably won't irritate our skin," Janus mused. "Incidentally, you're going first." Remus let out a whoop, reaching down near his feet, and peeling his clothing off in one upwards motion. A big black censor box popped up to cover his general genital area.

"Ta-dah!" He flung his arms up over his head.

"We discussed this, you weren't supposed to be naked," Janus frowned.

"Gasp!" He said, as opposed to actually gasping. "You're right!" He covered his nipples with his hands and turned his head away. "DON'T LOOK AT ME!" He faced his head forward again, grin present as though it'd never left. "Hey editor, put in a really big censor on my dick euphemism." The black censor box changed to an elephant head, its trunk long and centered.

"Put on. Your shorts." Janus gritted through his teeth. "I don't care if it's boxers or swim trunks, but we discussed that you would not. Be. Naked!"

"Uuuuuuuugh," Remus whined, body becoming floppy as he tilted his torso to one side. "Fine." He grumpily grabbed a bathing suit from the ground and tugged them up. They were green, and read 'Penis Inside' on the front. He crossed his arms, still pouting, "Are you happy now? I changed for you," Janus stared at him.

"Yes, I know," Janus un-tensed.

"I didn't even wear the ones with the little penii on it," Remus added.

"Yes, I know."

"That's plural of penis!"

"Yes, I know."

"Alright, let's get kinky!" He grabbed his shirt and waved it around. "We're going as full syncopatey dispatchers as possible!" Janus cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. Remus shrugged. "I got excited!"

"Well, put that on, anyway." Janus rolled his eyes, and grabbed a pair of big headphones from the side, waving them at him. Remus snatched them, holding them in between his legs as he wrapped the shirt around his eyes, tying it behind his head. The torso of the garment hung in front, down to his chest. "Not like that," Janus sighed. "Must you make everything difficult for me?"

"Tie me up right, Jaddy," he turned around, wriggling, facing the knot of the shirt towards Janus. "That's Janus and daddy." He paused, "Or jean daddy!" Janus whapped him on his head with two fingers. "Ow!" He exclaimed with a wide grin on his face.

Janus untied the shirt, taking it off completely, and rolled it into itself, so it was cylindrical. Remus was humming to himself, eyes closed, shifting from one foot to another as he waited. He wrapped it around Remus's eyes again, tying it firmly in place. He gave an extra tug that seemed a little harsher than it should be.

"You're done. Headphones on." Remus did so, lewdly grabbing the headphones from between his legs, and placing them on his head with a flourish. "And now, step into your death pool."

"Deadpool?!" Remus shouted, much louder than he needed to. "It's hard to hear you through these headphones!"

"Perfect." Janus nodded to himself. He jolted slightly, looking from Remus to the bathtub and back. "Hm. This, might be a problem." Remus began to clap far away and then closer to his face to see if he could hear himself. Janus put a hand on his chin, then looked at the camera. "Joan, do you think if he trips and falls on his way, anyone would believe it's an accident?"

"I dunno," they responded. "You think it's worth the risk?" Janus turned back to look at Remus, who clapped right on top of his nose, looked around, confused, then did it again. Janus silently looked back at Joan. "Okay, but you should probably help him anyway."

"Ugh, fine, spoilsport." He strode over to Remus, and lifted one end of the headphones off of his ear. "Alright, come on, I need to help guide you to the tub." Remus laid the headphones around his neck. "Joan says I shouldn't kill you."

"They what?!" Remus screeched, turning completely the wrong direction to look at Joan. "Spoilsport!"

"That's what I said," Janus smirked, walking over to him. "Now come here," he patted his shoulders, "let's get you dead-adjacent." And he tugged him gently by the shoulders, leading him over to the bathtub. "Left leg," Remus dutifully lifted it, "forward" and flailed his foot around until it touched water, then plunged it in.

"I got it from here, Janny Bananny," and swung himself around into the tub. Janus clapped, once.

"Bravo," he grabbed the GoPro, "put the headphones back on."

"We gettin' some tunes on this thing?" Remus asked as he adjusted them back up around his ears, sliding only one ear cover on.

"I'll see what I can do," he rolled his eyes. "Maybe I'll serenade you."

"Oooooh!" He wiggled his butt, sloshing the water around the tub. "Now all we need is some rubber duckies!" He snapped the second cover over his other ear. Janus placed the GoPro in his hands, and Remus felt around the camera. "Is this the lens?!" He shouted, rubbing his fingers over what did, in fact, appear to be the lens.

"Yes!" Janus harshly tapped his wrist. "Now stop smudging it!"

"I don't know what you said!" Remus grinned. "Hey, you know, if we peed in here you'd never know!" He put his hands behind his head, camera in hand acting like a pillow. "It's already warm! And crunchy from the salt!" He hummed. "I bet it'd taste delicious!"Janus ignored him as he prattled on, and turned back to Joan's camera.

"Alright, so, in normal sensory deprivation tanks, they're, well, tanks." Janus gestured to the open bathtub. "So what we need here is a cover to be more enclosed. Luckily, we have an actual cover." He gestured in a different direction, and the camera panned to where the empty salt bags were. "It's a bed cover. Or blanket as it is sometimes known." He went over to grab it as Joan focused on Remus again, still talking.

"I don't know, I mean! It's nice! But I'm not floating!" He was waving the GoPro around in wide figure eights around his head. Janus grabbed the blanket, walking back over to Remus. "I think I'm supposed to be floating! Maybe the water needs to be seasoned more?!" Janus hefted the blanket, placing it on top of Remus. "I'm not exactly feeling anything! Not even the pee that I may or may not have added to it!" He pulled it over his head.

"There we go," Janus smiled calmly. "Perfect enclosure."

"Hey, it's darker in here!" The blanket by Remus's head moved as though he were moving his arms underneath it. "Am I being smothered?! You're doing it really badly!" Janus left the camera screen. "I can still breathe and everything! Also it feels really soft and blanket-y!" Janus came back on, dragging a chair with him. It was a padded, wheely one. "Is this a blanket?!"

"Oh my god, shut up and experience death!"

"What?!"

"Shut up!"

"Oh okay!" Janus sighed out in relief. Then, "So what am I supposed to do now?!"

"You're supposed to be not talking, so that you can get the experience of a sensory deprivation chamber, so shut up and deprive your senses, already!" Janus was breathing harshly from the force of the yell.

"... I'm bored!" Janus let his head fall back in frustration. "I'm gonna play with the GoPro!" There was more splashing, and movement under the blanket. "Okay, viewers, so here I am, getting my secretaries desolated." Janus massaged his temples, before turning to the camera. The background music swelled, and Janus took on a deeper, more narrator-like voice.

"So, in theory, the idea of a sensory deprivation chamber is that you become unfocused on your senses." Remus continued talking to the GoPro in the background. The music stopped, and Janus's voice went from more intense to more casual. "Not just the usual five that you're taught in school, either, which is a bunch of garbage, by the way," the music resumed again, getting louder as he spoke, "and instead, you focus internally, and if you concentrate your efforts, really feel the sensations of death, you'll be able to improve yourself, to make yourself, unstopp-"

"HEY JAN!" Janus physically flinched, turning towards him. The music stopped. "I'm not feeling any sensations of death!" Janus stared at the bundle of motion under the blanket.

"Are you telling me you can hear m-"

"I feel like I'm in soup!" Janus sighed and put his head on his hands. "But chunky, because the salt's still intact! Is it supposed to melt?! Because it's not! Here, I'll get a close-up!" Janus was mumbling under his breath. "Hey, can this GoPro go in water?!" Janus sighed very heavily, and lifted his head, rolling his eyes.

"Yes."

"Down she goes!" Janus snorted, startled, and it turned into a laugh. There were heavy swishing noises from within Remus's bathtub cocoon. "I'm giving the GoPro the experience of a tsunami!"

"Okay, tell you what," Janus put his hands up as if in surrender. He walked back over to the chair. "What if I soothe you with some water-themed white noise?"

"We have a white noise machine?!"

"No," he sat down. "Shh-"

"I can't hear the CD!" He brought up a hand to his headphones.

"Put that hand back!" Janus said sharply. "You'll feel the low vibrations. And it's not A CD," Janus crossed his legs. "I'm making the sounds myself. "Shh-"

"CA-CAW! CA-CAW!" Janus jumped, eyes wide, startled.

"This isn't a group activity!"

"Just trying to help!"

"Help by shutting up!" He glared before attempting again. "Shhhwshhhhh! Shwoooshhh. Shhhhhhhhhh!"

"Are you going to do more than waves?!" Remus shifted under the blankets. "Just waves is boring!"

"More like wave goodbye to your life if you don't shut your mouth," Janus mumbled under his breath. He sighed. "I was getting to that." He rolled his neck. "If only you'd been more patient and shut up, you would have heard that."

"Neither of those sound like me!" He cackled from underneath. "Go back to the death threats! That was fun!"

"No!" Janus resumed the homemade ocean sounds. "SHHHHHHH! SHHHWSHHHH! SHHHWWWSHHHHH!" He was a bit angrier about it than before. "Hhhhwwwwhhhoooo……… blup, blup blup."

"This is nice!" Remus shifted down lower. "I'm feeling pretty dead, I think! Dead people love the ocean! Especially if they've been eaten by something in it!"

"Wee-ooh," He ignored him, continuing to imitate a foghorn. "Weee-oohhh." Then a loud sucking noise interrupted him. Surprisingly, it did not come from Remus. "What was that?" The noise continued its wet slurping. "Did you kick off the drain?"

"Maybe!" He kicked a foot around a bit. "I'm not sure! Hypothetically! How would one put it back with no hands?!" There was a bunch of splashing near Remus's feet. Janus sighed, propping his leg up, and putting his head in his hands.

"You get it back in?" He raised an eyebrow, expression bored.

"No! It's just sucking on my toes!" Sure enough, there was a prominent sucking sound. Remus moved his leg up. "See?! Out!" He put his leg back in the previous position, "In!" The sound got softer. Moved his leg, "Out!" The sound got louder. "In!" He let a second pass. "Out!"

"I get it, yes. Please-"

"In!" Janus huffed, and slouched over, rubbing his face in frustration. "Hey! You ever pretend like you're a submarine and you've got a peniscope checking out the enemy territory?!"

Janus looked like he gave up hope. Not for the video going well, just in general. He got up and walked off-screen. Remus was still talking. "Don't shoot your torpedoes off too early, though!" There was a pause. "Torpeendoes!" He laughed to himself a bit. "I think that I'm gonna check out enemy territory myself! Why rely on your peniscope for something you can do yourself!" He raised up, still covered by layers of fabric, "Going down!" He sank down into the water all the way, swishing and splashing, the blanket starting to bunch up and swirl around.

Janus walked back on-screen again, clearly not in his normal outfit. He had a swim cap on his head and bathrobe on, untied. He frowned when he walked in, and looked around. He walked towards the tub, peered in…

And just under a minute after he submerged, Remus broke the surface, pulling the shirt blindfold off as he came up. "Woo!" He splashed Janus considerably, causing him to flinch and take a few steps back.

"Hey!" Remus flipped his hair back, making even more of a mess.

"Don't go underwater. It hurts." Janus's robe fell open, revealing his yellow shorts with a green snake coming around a leg, its head by the front of them. "... You sure those aren't mine?"

The video cut.

When it came back on, it had transitioned to Janus in the tub, eyes closed, relaxing back as much as possible. He had the headphones already in place.

"If I find out you peed in this, I will kill you."

"You don't gotta worry about that, my deceitful delicacy." He reached down for a shirt that was by the outside of the tub. "You just worry about relaxing, and being dead!" Janus sighed, and Remus dutifully tied the shirt around his eyes. "Today's safeword is mungbean," he gave an extra tug around it, and grabbed for Janus's hand, opening his fingers before he placed the GoPro inside.

"I thought you were trying to hold my hand," Janus let the camera roll around his fingers.

"Aw, you know nothing gets me in a romantic mood like soaking in a death bath." You could see Janus's eyebrows constrict slightly.

"Is-"

"Now now, don't worry about anything." He patted his hand. "This'll aaaaallllllllllll be over soon." Janus seemed to frown from behind the shirt. He went about tightly tucking Janus in, from his head to his feet. "Whoops, got your dick a little bit. That's okie dokie, though. Okie dickie." He ducked down to grab something.

"I'm so glad that you're telling me what I'm okay with," Janus moved the camera to his other hand, deadpan.

"You're welcome!" He stood again, and partially unrolled some duct tape off the roll he'd grabbed, with a shhhhhhk! "Now, move your head up a bit, I want to make sure this is all secure." He began wrapping the duct tape around his head a few times.

"Holy crap, Remus!" Joan accused, slightly horrified, before they laughed a little. Remus tore the strip off with his teeth, licking his mouth as he patted the tape down so that it stuck. "Delicious. Now, what's your favorite song? Serenade yourself!" Janus hummed in thought before he started up.

"Let's face the facts and come to terms, it's time to realize," Remus brightened.

"Great, now slowly lean your head back and keep going." He put a hand on his head.

"These goals are only merely hope we quickly leave behind,"

"These goats are hoes you subtly love with roving eyes!" Remus joined on top of him, singing off-key. Janus thwapped his hand and continued on his own.

"They're lies," Remus put a hand on his head, "lies," he pushed softly, "lies," he led him down to the water level, " lies," his ears were now underwater, "lieeeeees!" He kept pushing until his entire face was underneath the surface. The last held out note came out, bubbling. Janus quickly sat upright again with a gasp. "Wait, wait, hold on now. I feel as though something's a little off, here." Though his face was covered by a t-shirt, it had a distinct pinched look to it.

"Naaaaaaw, you're fine, you're good," he put his hand on his head again, and pushed insistently until Janus had sunk down again, this time he stopped before he submerged completely. "So? You feel closer to god?" He purred, double checking he was completely tucked in.

"If by closer to god, you mean about to get murdered, then I think so."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," he nodded, distracted, as he gently caressed his head. "And are you feeling relaxed?" He rubbed his thumb back and forth across his nose and mouth. "Relaaaaaaaaaax."

"Okay well, now I'm feeling less relaxed by the second." He wriggled. "Did you tuck my arms in?"

"Naw, come on. Think relaxing thoughts. What's the best sleep you've ever had?" He drummed his fingers on the top of his head.

"Any one but this one."

"Just let go. Relax. Sink into it." He started pushing on his head again, and he went down those last few centimeters. Remus did not release him. Janus began to twitch. Then harder, writhing and twisting to the best of his abilities. "That's it, that's it," he stroked the top of his head, giving his forehead a few last pats as he finally stopped his movements. "Boy, he was a heavy one!" Janus suddenly rose up fully, breathing harshly. He tore down the shirt from his face, cursing. He stared at Remus, panting. Eventually, he took in enough oxygen, and said,

"My lips burn."

"Neat! How would you rate your time at the Thomas Annus Death Tub Experience?" He held two thumbs up.

"You know," he tilted his head, "I think if there hadn't been someone trying to kill me, that might have been relaxing."

"Yeah, what an asshole, we should fire that guy."

"Felt kind of like what I imagine the womb is like." His hand drifted through the water.

"I miss the womb," Remus sighed wistfully.

"Yes. Very dead in there."

"We were all dead before we were born." They stared at the camera. The clock resumed its ticking.

Endcard:

Remus was naked again, censor in place.

"Alright, editors!" He pointed towards the camera. "It's time for hard mode," he gyrated his hips for emphasis. "Ready? Let's go!" He pointed at the camera, "Something long!" The censor turned into a giraffe's neck. "Something small!" A giant termite nest in the dirt, tall and bustling with tiny termite activity. "Something sweet!" A candy cane, hook facing up, tied nicely with a fancy bow. "Something salty!" A big, twisted soft pretzel.

Remus cracked his knuckles until they cracked off, each hanging by a thin strip of skin. He shook his hands out, and they realigned, fusing together again. "Something curvy!" A corkscrew popped into censorship existence. "Something straight-" a long yardstick, "-as my thinking!" The yardstick flickered, instead a graph with a sin curve charted on it hovered in its place. "Now the same thing, but straight as in orientation!" The graph turned rainbow colors.

"Now just let my dick hang out!" A picture of a plate of spotted dick. Remus looked around excitedly. "Did that work?" The pudding wobbled in a distressing way. The camera cut off.

-----

Taglist: @smileyzs @robinwritesshitposts @thatgaydemigodnerd @arya-skywalker @itsabsurd-and-terrifying @potatsanderssides @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @thefivecalls @ananonsplace @ollyollyoxinfree @intruxiety @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @a-fandom-trashdump @hekking-happy-nonsense @legendsgates @10moonymhrivertam @idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @nyamafriend

#sanders sides #remus sanders #janus sanders #joan the camera operator #ta chapter #my stories

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feralphoenix · 4 years

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HOWMST BELL THE CAT? - A treatise on one aspect of how the Pale King sealed the Radiance

sup hollow knight fandom, i’m back with the picante takes again after having Noticed A Thing.

as with my previous essays i’ll put this guy up on dreamwidth later for accessibility purposes, since my layout text may be too small for high-res pc users. i will attach that in a reblog at a later point.

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR TONIGHT’S PROGRAM: This essay discusses canon-typical body horror and bodily boundary violations, with some side mentions of colonialism.

all game screencaps are mine. the screencap of the wiki is from the “developer notes” (style guide) section of the “cut content” page.

ALSO: if youre from a christian cultural upbringing (whether currently practicing, agnostic/secular, or atheist now), understand that some of what i’m discussing here may challenge you. if thinking thru the implications of this particular part of hollow knight worldbuilding/lore is distressing for you, PLEASE only approach this essay when youre in a safe mindset & open to listening, and ask the help of a therapist or anti-racism teacher/mentor to help you process your thoughts & feelings. just like keep in mind that youre listening to an ethnoreligiously marginalized person and please be respectful here or wherever else youre discussing this dang essay, ty

HOWMST BELL THE CAT? - A treatise on one aspect of how the Pale King sealed the Radiance

We understand more or less how the Pale King’s plan was supposed to work. Stuff Radiance into a no-thoughts-head-empty and silent Pure Vessel to trap, isolate, and silence her, both putting an end to the Infection and killing her for good. Stick that vessel in the Black Egg, which harnesses Void BS to both keep the vessel alive indefinitely and to cover Hallownest (and its neighbors) in a time-defying stasis so that the Pale King could successfully hoard his favorite shiny FOREVER, threatened by nothing. Then put a seal on the Black Egg to prevent anyone from getting inside and harming said vessel while it’s strung up and helpless. And THEN, put protective seals on the anchors (the Dreamers) to the Black Egg seal to protect them from any external harm: The stasis means the Dreamers won't die of old age or starvation.

All in all, a pretty foolproof plan!

...except that the Dreamers are still vulnerable to having their minds breached with the moths’ magic... and the Pale King failed to take into account that his Pure Vessel was a person actually and the amount of toxic stress his training/upbringing put on them made them REALLY POORLY SUITED FOR THEIR JOB... and also that killing 99% of his million children and turning the Abyss into a landfill for baby corpses would take enough of an emotional toll on his wife and #1 enabler the White Lady that she would walk out on him, ensuring he’d only ever have one shot at this whole deal...

Basically it’s the sort of plan that an emotionally constipated, low-empathy sort of guy who pours all his points into INT and has a big fat zero for WIS might think is foolproof. It has big holes in it that the Pale King did not consider to be big holes until he got owned by the various consequences of his actions and fell down said big holes, making the shocked pikachu face all the while. Rip in die, my guy.

Anyway, there’s a lot of incidental information scattered about the game that gives us more insight into the stages of TPK’s plan. Looking at Monomon’s notes in the Archive suggests that she was probably involved in designing the Black Egg; the hidden room in the Weavers’ den points to their being the ones to blueprint the Dreamer seal; the White Palace’s hidden rooms reveal both TPK’s morbid fascination with the Void and his mea culpa wrt his motives and the Path of Pain is certainly suggestive of a lot of things. The White Lady tells us straight out that she walked out on the Pale King because she wanted no part in a second vessel batch, but how TPK didn’t handle that is only revealed via map design and some incidental dialogue from the Old Stag.

This stuff presents us with, if not a full picture, then at least a decent connect-the-dots of certain aspects of crater politics and Pale Court drama at the time, and how exactly TPK’s plan came together.

But there is still one glaring question that these cookie crumbs do not provide us an answer to:

Who shall bell the cat?

How did TPK et al manage to stuff Radiance into Hollow in the first place?

This is the subject of a lot of memes and jokes within the fandom because it's so absurd. Radiance fuckin hates that dude! She’s probably gonna be pretty wary of him considering how he stole her people in the first place! And considering the anti-colonialism slant of the writing - beyond the general sympathetic view Team Cherry gives of each indigenous bug society, Seer makes it very clear that Radiance has very good reason to take violent action against Hallownest - the answer is probably not something like “she’s just that stupid” or “she rolled a crit fail”.

Well... I have an idea of how TPK managed to get Radiance in there. It raises about as many questions as it answers, mind, but it may be someplace to start.

[desc: the hollow knight's entry in the hunter’s journal. top text/ghost’s comment reads: “Fully grown Vessel, carrying the plague’s heart within its body.” bottom text/hunter’s comment says: “The old King of Hallownest... he must have been desperate to save his crumbling little world. The sacrifices he imposed on others... all for nothing.”]

Here we have Hollow’s bestiary entry. Most of what we’re concerned with here is the top text, which says the seal has literally trapped Radiance inside their body. (First of all, ew, TPK.)

We already knew Radiance is literally actually inside Hollow, though: The Infection is leaking out of their body, and to get to fight Radiance, Ghost has to go traipsing into their sibling’s mind. So what’s significant about that here?

[desc: screencap of the outside of the black egg temple, post-infected crossroads. there are large infection blobs in the foreground and background, connected to each other by veins that come from inside the temple.]

The infection blobs are weird and get weirder if you kill enough Lightseeds for the Hunter to tell you their origin story, i.e. that the literal actual sun has been having a very long bad day and cried a lot, and some of the liquid coalesced into living flesh, and some of that living flesh took on a mind of its own to become Lightseeds. (Hollow Knight is a WILD place.)

Lightseeds are Radiance’s accidental children and share a lot of her traits: They are harmless creatures that try to avoid conflict if possible but if pushed will get creative and find ways to fight regardless of their physical limitations. (For the Lightseeds this involves hiding inside Broken Vessel’s corpse and puppeting it around to try to stab you.) They even have her same distinctive yell. And according to the Hunter, they’re born from the infection blobs. These enemies only ever appear in the Ancient Basin, which both Radiance and the Void have ransacked, and in the Infected Crossroads.

The infection blobs are connected to and sort of a weird extension of Radiance because the Infection itself is sort of a weird extension of Radiance. In the game’s internal style guide Team Cherry explains that the Infection started as an accident, not her original intention but what happened when Hallownest tried to block her out.

[desc: screencap from the wiki of style notes attached to seer that describe a sketch of radiance’s finalized backstory. text reads: “The moth tribe were (perhaps) descended from Radiance. However, the King convinced them somehow to seal Radiance away. I guess so he could rule Hallownest with his singular vision, as a god/monarch with no other gods. The moths sealed Radiance away by forgetting about her. Hallownest was born and flourished. However, the memory of Radiance lingered (eg [sic] the statue at hallownest’s crown) and soon she began to reappear in dreams and starting [sic] exerting influence. The King and the bugs of Hallownest resisted this memory/power and it started to manifest as the Infection. Thus the first attempt to seal Radiance failed, and the King had to try another method - the Vessel.” emphasis mine.]

Some fans have posited the blobs as deposits of pupa juice, but given Team Cherry's description of the Infection’s origins I don’t know how likely that is. Since the Void also sticks its squamous tentacles into things via veiny looking things and the Nightmare’s Heart has similar veiny nonsense in the Nightmare Realm, I wonder if it isn’t just a Meddly God Shit thing in general.

Whatever the case, the blobs are very much connected to/a part of Radiance.

And when you’re hanging around them, you will notice two things: They pulse like they’re part of a circulatory system, and you can hear Radiance's heartbeat emanating from them.

[desc: screencap of the game’s title screen with the infected menu theme in use: a glowing orange ball at the center of a lot of black tendony webbing.]

Let’s also think of the Infected menu theme, which you unlock after getting either of the endings where Ghost takes over from Hollow and absorbs Radiance out of them. Ghost is infected and then sealed inside the Black Egg in Hollow's place. It’s suggested by the animation’s staging that Radiance briefly struggles to get out of Ghost after absorbed but is ultimately stuck in them, at which point the seal is reestablished.

If you haven’t used the Infected menu theme yourself, the... interesting thing about it is that it moves organically. The light ball expands and contracts - y’know, sort of like a living organ - and so does the black webby stuff around it.

Also, Radiance’s heartbeat is included in the theme's ambiance.

[desc: hollow’s bestiary entry again]

To cut to the chase, this part of Hollow’s bestiary entry that says “the plague’s heart”? I don’t think that’s just Ghost/Team Cherry being poetic. I think there’s a good chance it’s LITERAL.

I think TPK is the sort of person who could cram a native woman’s literal living beating heart inside his own child’s body so they can use it as... say, a focus to absorb and trap her mind/spirit inside their body, too. Mr. No Cost Too Great is capable of a lot in the name of keeping other people’s claws off his Big Shiny kingdom. This is kind of his whole brand.

But also, like, yuck.

This fits the worldbuilding too; generally speaking Hollow Knight is Body Horror City. Also there’s the case of Grimm: While he and Radiance are loose counterparts at best with WILDLY disparate outlooks and ethoses, his existence serves as precedent that a Higher Being’s heart specifically can be separate from the rest of them.

As I said before, though, this DOES raise as many questions as it answers. If this is another piece in the puzzle of how TPK belled the cat, we’re now left wondering how he got Radiance’s heart to use as Hollow's focus to begin with.

We know he has access to the Dream Realm because that’s ultimately where he hid when Hollow’s seal failed, but who did he send to do the stealing and how did they get away with it? (TPK certainly wouldn’t have gone; his own life’s the one cost too great for him to willingly pay.) Was Radiance’s heart separate from her like the Nightmare’s Heart, or was it a part of her body? (I think the latter is more likely just from her personality; Grimm’s hidden heart makes sense because of how he keeps even his own servants at arm’s length emotionally, whereas Radiance is all heart all the time. I think this makes more sense with their equal opposites schtick too. But this would make for a WAY riskier mission.)

I can imagine all kinds of possibilities. None of them are definitive, but the thing they have in common is that they are all Awful... and how on-brand that is for Hollow Knight as a whole is, maybe, the most persuasive argument for It’s Literally Actually Her Real Physical Heart there could be.

#hollow knight #hollow knight spoilers #hollow knight meta #the radiance #hk radiance #not sure if i should tag tpk bc i doubt therell be anything in here his stans will enjoy lol #long post under cut -#essay

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