#topic: family

[confessionofanardentheart]

3.6 Smerdyakov

Smerdyakov is an artist, Fyodor Pavlovich says. He may love Balaam’s donkey the same way he loves his “guard dog”. The artist plays with appearances and the dark nook and crannies of the world, and chooses to bring forth something or… Nothing at all. I'm not talking about that kind of artist.

Smerdyakov approaches the world with dissective hands. He arranges lifeless things into a semblance of art, either playing a pointless game of make- believe with the little corpses in his childish cruelty, or taking pride in cooking dishes to fill the belly of the beast. Living things are paste for his hands to reduce to nothing. They can all be spun by dissective hands until they amount to nothing. He plays aimlessly and loses interest. Words, too, are living things to dissect and arrange with sophistry. Not quite an idiot, as he's quite inquisitive, asking questions, nitpicking. But the isolation he's faced since birth and his silent conceit prevent him from turning words into more than dead instruments. Ideas breathe through other ideas. In that sense, in the sense of the idiot as one's own, he becomes the idiot when he merely contemplates in silence. Hoarding impressions and ideas for himself, he does not reach the last step of dialectics, in which ideas come alive again, rising from death by the skeptical scalpel and giving way to speculation.

Wrapped in elegant clothes, exuding a sickening fragrance, shiny curls and boots steeped in pomade, covering the stench of his origin, his conception, the stench of death. Likened to an “eunuch”, young, yet wrinkled and passionless, effeminate: ageless, sexless and fatherless. Ironically, it's this ostentation of his and mimicking of a higher- class appearance and language that brings the deplorable negation of all into the light. Had he stayed in the dark, forgotten as a wretched epileptic fool— the object of collective shame; the absence of responsibility and compassion wouldn't be staring at everyone in their faces with a glint of spite in his eyes. He was called less than human, and chose never to forgive. Balaam's donkey carrying the burdens obediently, waiting for her time to speak.

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Links:

@keepingupwiththekaramazovs

[tayfabe75]

Tim is best known for acting in TV shows like Auf Wiedersehen, Pet and Benidorm, while Denise previously starred in Coronation Street and Soldier Soldier. She is also a current panelist on the ITV talk show Loose Women. With both of his parents in the spotlight, Matty grew up seeing the ups and downs of fame. He told Pitchfork that he was exposed to the "artifice" of fame long before he joined The 1975 because of his parents' careers. "Not that my parents posture, but by the time it came to being a performer and doing interviews, in my brain I was like, 'I will go insane if I have to do any of the posturing I've been witness to my whole life,'" he said.

January 21, 2024: People publishes an article about Matty's parents. (source)

[castielsprostate]

i hate you "influencers", i hate you tiktok, i hate you "content creators", i hate you "unalive" and "s€x" and "dr/ügs", i hate you instagram, i hate you consumerism, i hate you family friendly, i hate you puritans, i hate you facebook, i hate you family vloggers, i hate you violating other people's privacy, i hate you modern day social media

[burquillos]

Day 11: 2A Sports Fest. Kacchan is supposed to sit it out but why is he on the field??

Inspired by this Dandadan screencap:

[arcade-confetti]

Being someone who read Under The Red Hood and came out with the firm belief that, for Jason, it's not about killing Joker, it's about Jason wanting proof Batman would choose him over the Joker (bc shelia chose the joker). Makes seeing any other media where it's all about just wanting the Joker dead is a teeny bit frustrating. to be honest

Jason could've killed the Joker himself, really, really easily. Jason kidnaps the Joker before the confrontation. I can't open my comic for a reference right now, but it felt like he had the Joker for quite a bit before the confrontation. He had him. He beat him up with a crowbar. He had every single opportunity to kill the Joker himself, but he didn't because that wasn't his goal. Make no mistake, he did plan for the Joker to be dead by the end of it, but do you see what im trying to say here

Edit: If I knew this post was gonna get 1000+ notes I would've tried to word it better or something, this was a rant I made on the way to the grocery store 😭

It's not about making Batman kill either. When Batman says he won't kill, Jason adjusts and goes, 'Let ME kill the Joker or kill me to stop me' instead. The test is all about Batman choosing him. The whole final confrontation is Jason's first death again. The parent, The Joker, and the explosives. It even ends with Jason unable to move as a bomb goes off right next to him again because the parent didn't choose Jason. And instead tried finding an option that'd benefit them and (consequencely) letting the Joker walk, again, lol, lmao <-in agony

[communistkenobi]

this is extremely ungenerous of me but it is like insanely annoying when venting on here about parental relationships re: being trans and a bunch of people in the tags are like yeah it’s so sad parents are awful to their trans kids even though I have a great supporting loving relationship with my parents! they love and accept me sooooo much I’m honestly so lucky and blessed to have them in my life. like idk maybe there should be some extra sensitivity to talking about how much your parents love and support you in a community of people who famously have extremely high rates of parental rejection and abuse

[spookybokchoy]

The buzz at the Hot Topic where all the mall goths flock 🦇 There’s something here for all geeks alike! Whether you’re emo, scene, metal, punk, rock, gyaru, kawaii, grunge, cringe, virgo, vegan, or some alt thing I didn’t mention already because my god there’s a lot of them, we got you covered!

[limethefirst]

When You're Gone

pairings: Thunderbolts* x teen!reader

warnings: major spoilers, reader has powers, reader has a form of ptsd from the events of endgame, slighttt survivors guilt, mentions of suicide/committing (in the void), angst but it turns into found family, honestly pretty long fic (3k+ words)

summary: being the youngest ex-avenger was weird, it's even weirder being grouped up with a bunch of misfits to save new york and take down the director of the cia

a/n: just watched thunderbolts and gawdddd, because the timeline in the mcu no longer matches our timeline, i imagine reader is in their late teens, early 20's, but no age is mentioned, so go wild. this is a very heavy topic to write and i'm not taking it lightly, the only mention of any type of self harm is when reader is in the void so please take that into account, love you all (this is cross posted on my ao3, Maaaak95, my only acc ty)

New York was never peaceful, maybe that's why it was called the city that never sleeps.

Leaving New York was something you'd considered for a while, it was crime ridden, constantly under attack by aliens, in need of every hero it could get. That's actually why you chose to stay.

Somewhere in that brain of yours, it was engraved, by Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, everyone you'd once fought with to save the world. It was engraved in you, that if you had the means, you had to fight, because who will protect the little guy?

So, there you stayed, but moments like this made you, slightly, regret your choice.

"How did you even get this number?!" Your expression was exasperated, to say the least. Bucky Barnes- pardon, Congressman, Bucky Barnes, was on the other end of the line.

Somehow he'd gotten your number, most likely from Sam at some point, and was telling you to suit up.

As if you haven't already been suited up daily, protecting New York from minor threats. Which was strange, considering only four years ago, you'd gone against Thanos.

It was weird, going from fighting against a God-like being, to stopping a petty thief from holding a gun against your favorite corner store clerk.

A grumble came from the other end of the phone, Bucky sounded tired, then again he always sounded tired, at least you assumed so from the brief meetings the two of you have had.

"Doesn't matter, listen," He paused, you swore you could hear some weird chattering in the back, "I'm going to be in New York in a few hours, be ready to fight."

"You?"

"No," That was disappointing, it would've been fun to fight him.

"Aw."

"Don't 'aw' me, this is serious, I know you patrol the area. I need, help, with a problem." He slightly hesitated when he asked for help. Bucky was a capable man, that much you knew, if he needed help then this must've been important.

You let out a small sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, "Okay.. just text me when you arrive, I'll be ready."

With that you hung up, quickly changing the new number that was in your phone to 'Bucky Barnes'. Welp, now you had the number of another person from your unpleasant past.

It wasn't that you hated being an Avenger, hell, you technically never became one. You were just destined to become one. But that day never came.

Gifted, blessed, abnormal, savior. Words needlessly passed around during your childhood, all because of the strange power you possessed. A form of light manipulation. It wasn't overpowered, it was cool though.

Being able to create forms of light, alter it, change the trajectory, even make beams that harnessed the heat of the light. Something better than nothing, something that caught the eye of the infamous Tony Stark.

You never exactly got time to bond with them all, well, you were a kid when you accidentally demonstrated your powers in a public setting. The ol' parents weren't fond of that, so when Tony decided to help, seeing you as a future Avenger, they didn't pass up the opportunity to essentially hand you off.

You trained a bit, met some cool people, had a family for a short while, then they split, then they lost half the population, brought it back, half died, half survived. And for a while, you were alone again.

Some of the remaining Avengers checked in, hardly, but maybe it was the effort that counted?

An hour or so had passed before you got your next text, Bucky was finally in the city. He asked you to meet him by.. the old Avengers tower? You lived there only for a brief time. Hardly a few months, because after what happened between Stark and Rogers, Tony couldn't bear to continue to keep the tower.

You don't remember it very well, you were young and still getting used to being trained by hero's.

Shaking your head, you left, making the quick trip to the old tower.

There seemed to be soldiers inside, so you waited. Not for long of course, when suddenly a truck crashed right through the doors of the building.

Pushing yourself off the wall you quickly entered, seeing the man of the hour himself.

"Bucky?" Your voice cut through the commotion, the older man turned. His body now facing you.

He gave a curt nod, "Hey there, kid, no time no see."

You couldn't help but let out a snort at his words, even if you were never close to him, God it felt good to talk to someone with some kind of connection to who you used to be.

"Time hasn't been kind to you, Barnes, you look tired,"

He smirked, through all the stress it was nice to see the kid he once fought next to, grown, still seemingly protecting the people. Before he could respond a voice cut through the speaker of the lobby, a woman who you didn't know spoke.

Something about her having left the door unlocked for them. Whatever, the doors were broken now anyway.

With that, the group headed to the elevator, Bucky ushered everyone in.

You stepped in, looking at the group.

The elevator started its awkward ascent, "Hello there," A woman with a Russian accent spoke, "You must be the person Barnes was calling earlier." She stated, looking you up and down.

"Oh yea, that was me." You gave a small nod, leaning against the railing, offering your name.

"Ahh," The Russian woman said with a nod, "Yelena," She pointed to herself, then the man next to Bucky, "John Walker, Ava Starr, Alexei."

Just as she finished, Alexei interrupted, "You are quite young!" It sounded more like a statement than a question, "Why does the Soldier bring you along, little one?"

"He's not wrong, you look pretty young." Ava chimes before you can answer.

You sigh, not really wanting to divulge into the details, "I'm someone from his past,"

"That's not vague at all," John rolls his eyes, gripping his shield tightly.

Bucky gives him a small glare, you're unsure if it's on your behalf or there is some unsolved beef between the two, "It's almost like that was the idea!" You said with a sarcastic tone, "I'm just someone with certain capabilities, let's leave it there."

"Ah ah! Now I remember where I've heard of you!" Yelena smiles, not a real smile, more of a know it all grin, "You were one of those heroes who fought against Thanos, no?" She asks, causing everyone else to look either at Bucky or you.

You internally groaned at that, "Yea.. yea I fought against Thanos." Geez, was it just you or was this the longest elevator ride you've ever been on. Curse Tony for making his old building so tall.

"We both did, she's an old friend, and she's here to help, so don't antagonize her." Bucky told everyone, but it looked like he was looking mostly at Alexei and John.

Of course, Alexei didn't pay attention to Bucky, instead he put a hand on his belly while he laughed. He kinda looked like Santa, in a weird Russian way.

"Yes!" He pumped his fist into the air, "Now, we are a real team! The Thunderbolts will be unstoppable!" He exclaimed proudly, Yelena lowered her face into her hands in slight embarrassment.

"Oh my god, do not get started on this again."

You raised a confused brow, "What's the Thunderbolts?" You asked.

"Yelena's old soccer team! The West Chesapeake Bay Thunderbolts!"

Yelena just groaned loudly, "Okay, dad, we get it."

A small chuckle escaped your lips, it was nice, the dynamic at least. You'd been alone ever since the events with Thanos ended, so being able to be part of a team, even if for a fleeting moment was, homey.

All moments end though, and this one would end sooner than later, because once those elevator doors opened, everything became a quick blur.

It all went wrong pretty quick.

There was a moment that Yelena paused, as a man named Bob, -well apparently Sentry- descended the staircase. He had blonde hair and a strange yellow suit.

Ava commented on his hair, and he seemed more self aware after that. In the blink of an eye, everyone attacked. Or, at least tried.

He was so strong, for a moment you felt scared. Not because of the fact this guy could probably kill you with a flick of the wrist, but because he reminded you of that damn purple giant, the one who took away the future you could've had.

It felt like Thanos all over again, as dumb as it sounded. You saw Tony's body, you remember hearing what happened to Nat, remember the feeling of standing there as Steve explained on that bench that he lived a full life in the past.

You couldn't hesitate though, quickly using your powers to try and blind Sentry giving Bucky an opening to attack.

It was pointless.

He made quick work of you six, tossing you aside like a rag doll. Not even your powers, which were the only thing you had left worked. No matter how many beams you used, the deflected, in fact, they hit you. Pushing you back against the wall.

You spit out some blood, trying to get up, but Ava put her hand on your shoulder, shaking her head.

Both of you looked at the rest of the group, each one beaten and bruised. John's shield was bent in half, this guy means business.

Bucky was the last one standing, he tried to land a punch but Sentry discarded him with ease. He ripped off his arm, knocking him out with it and tossing, along with Bucky next to you.

Your eyes widened as Ava grabbed your shoulder, along with Bucky's arm, pulling you with her towards the elevator.

Alexei and John quickly grabbed Bucky, Yelena scurried up as well, joining you and everyone else.

The ride down was tense, your breathing felt heavy, your hands clutched to your chest. You've dealt with terrible things, maybe worse? You couldn't tell at the moment, it all felt like it was crashing down on you.

Turning to the side, you saw everyone else. Everyone was utterly defeated, John was trying to fix his shield. Alexei was quiet, for once. Ava still had a small reassuring hand on your shoulder. Yelena stared at the elevator door and Bucky was leaning against the wall with the assistance of Yelena.

There was a clear contrast from how you entered to how you left.

The elevator, that was filled with noise no longer than ten minutes ago, was now eerily still.

The ding let everyone know they'd reached the bottom, slowly making their way to the front of the building.

Ava finally let go of your shoulder, handing Bucky his arm.

There was talking but you weren't listening, the last time you felt defeated, a stupid purple man with a gauntlet had blipped half the universe away.

This wasn't the same, that was something you had to remind yourself of. You were not going to lose anyone else anymore. No, no, this was a corrupt CIA director using a man as a human experiment. Not the end of the world.

The feeling of someone's hand tapping your arm snapped you out of your daze.

Glancing towards the person, you saw Bucky, his arms crossed over his chest, a brow raised, "Kid, you okay?" Bucky was no idiot, he knew the signs of PTSD, the fear, anxiety. It was so plainly rolling off of you in waves.

You wanted to run away, scream, go back to that warm place you called home. But home wasn't a place, it was a fleeting memory. One that grew more blurred as the days passed by.

When you first met the Avengers, Tony brought you in, showed you around, then you met them all. Tony told you to 'put on a lightshow', honestly, it was stupid. A lightshow? Really? But you listened, because you were a kid who didn't know better.

It was a fun first day, you felt like you belonged somewhere.

"No," You shook your head as you responded to Bucky. He didn't push though, he could see in your eyes.

Instead he offered you a nod, patting your shoulder, "Okay." Bucky didn't know how to comfort people, at least not anymore. Maybe before the war, before his Winter Soldier days.

It was enough though, even if for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly you both noticed the way everyone had paused, looking up at the sky.

A shadowy figure floated above New York, you saw the helicopters closing in on it. But they began to spiral out of control, crashing into nearby buildings, causing debris to fall.

Neither Bucky, nor you wasted time, jumping into action. And it seemed you two weren't the only ones thinking that you saw them. The rest of the Thunderbolts jumped into action, helping protect people.

You saw a father running with his son in his arms, when a piece of cement made its way down, it was going to kill them.

Quickly you ran, raising your arms. Hands trained on the failing debris, a faint glow emitted, when suddenly it blasted, hitting the cemented building. It shattered, only smaller rubble fell, the bigger chunks luckily pushed to the side.

The man didn't stop running, but you could hear his grateful sobs as he held his son tightly against his chest.

You returned to the group, making sure everything was okay, when suddenly everyone clapped. Alexei looked ecstatic at that, his grin was proud.

It fell pretty quickly, as he saw a little girl standing right below another piece of the falling building, he rushed over to her. Using his body as a shield he saved the girls life.

At least he thought he did.

The girl became a shadow before your eyes. New York wasn't saved yet, as quickly as it became a rescue mission, it turned into an evacuation order.

You all ushered everyone inside nearby buildings, everyone but Yelena. Who stood before the void.

No one noticed before it was too late. Alexei yelled, both Bucky and John held him back. It wasn't two men holding back a Russian super soldier, no, it was two super soldiers holding back a father.

God, it was hard to watch, the remaining group rushed into an alleyway.

Ava proposed the idea of entering the void, to you, it sounded like a death wish. No one knew what was on the other side.

Actually, that was a lie.

Apparently John Walker knew. Of course he knew, he mentioned what happened when he first met Bob, the interaction that happened when he grabbed his hand.

It gave a vague idea that the void was a place where you relived your worst memories.

And if you wanted to save Yelena, and Bob. Then, dammit, you'd have to.

You all looked at each other, nodding, ready to let the void take you all.

Bucky gave you a quick glance, his expression held guilt, in the midst of trying to take down Valentina, he'd forgotten that he'd dragged you into this mess. To him, you were just a kid, no matter how old you were.

A kid who was raised with the idea that they had to be a hero, it was noble. Stupid, that's also what he thought it was.

He couldn't think about it for long though, because within a matter of seconds, the void had swallowed you all whole.

The Void either wanted to start off strong or you had a pristine line up of terrible memories to choose from.

The first thing you saw was you, standing next to an overflowing bathtub.

You could feel the wince you let out at the sight. This wasn't long after the battle with Thanos, when things were getting harder to deal with.

When the thoughts of how Tony should still be alive with his family, how Nat should've been at the Barton's annual Christmas party.

You tried to grab onto the past version that stood in front of the tub, but you couldn’t.

That person turned around, grabbing at your wrists and threw you against the wall with a hard crack.

Looking up you saw the same image again, it was repeating. This time you didn’t intervene. Instead you watched.

You knew you wouldn’t do anything, you were still here.

This past version of you fell to their knees. The tile floor was cold, and wet.

Instead of getting in, you only dunked in your head, screaming into the water.

A glimpse in the mirror caught your attention, it looked like, Yelena?

You quickly punched the bathroom mirror, shattering it and feeling how it sucked you into another memory.

One where you couldn’t save everyone.

This was a fairly recent memory, that’s why it felt more vivid, at least in your opinion.

New York was a big place, and even if you knew there were other heroes who could help, they also couldn’t be everywhere.

You had stopped a mugging, but not fast enough, not carefully enough. Someone had been shot.

You were careless and stupid and slow. Everything you thought you were taught not to be.

The paramedics were on the scene, your arms had blood, the woman’s blood.

She looked old enough to possible be a mother, maybe she had a partner at home, she was someone’s daughter, aunt, neighbor. And you let her die.

Maybe it would’ve been better if you took the bullet, because at least you wouldn’t have anyone truly worried about you.

The memory replayed, this time, you stepped in front of the gun, trying to save her.

But the trigger never went off, instead, she pushed you away, her face was sad, her frown killed you. Then she was killed.

The memory kept going on over and over, and for a moment, you were somewhere terrible.

You were in front of Tony Starks body, his side was burnt and he looked weak. There was a body in front of him.

You didn’t recognize him though, his face was almost blurred. He spoke the words over and over again , ‘Mr Stark, we did it,’ it was painful to hear.

Then, there she was again, Yelena, being strangled with Bob beside her.

You gritted your teeth. Forget these memories. They hurt like hell, but you had somehow prevailed, each time growing stronger because for some reason, you felt that this was your purpose.

You were still alive because you needed to help people, help them, help Yelena.

Within the blink of an eye you were in the same room as her, along with the rest of the Thunderbolts.

Each one looked confused, and slightly worried for the entire group.

You saw Bucky again, “You look like shit, Barnes,” You let out a shaky, relieved exhale.

“Well, you know my life was pretty good so no bad memories.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. It wasn’t the best joke to make, but you smiled at the effort.

Ava also seemed to notice you, she had seemingly taken a liking to the youngest ex-Avenger, maybe because she knew the burdens of having powers growing up. Even if her experience was different.

With everyone back together, you all needed a plan of escape. Thankfully, Bob seemed more than ready to try and fight back against The Void.

Everyone began to rush through Bob’s memories, most were sad to see. Just from the small snippets, you could gather that his father was abusive, he was an addict, and he had some mental health issues.

Although it was funny to see Bucky punch a giant chicken.

Finally you all arrived at the last room, “I’ve been here before,” Yelena spoke, her eyes darting around.

In the middle of the room stood Void. His eyes held a faint glow and it was making you more nervous by the second.

Just as everyone got ready to charge, he lifted his hand, and pieces of metal had bound everyone against the walls.

John got it worst of all, his shoulder was impaled, he was stuck against the wall like that.

You tried to kick, get out of the metal bounds, but if three super soldiers couldn’t get out, you doubted you’d be able to.

Then they fought, Bob and his darker half.

The Void was taunting him,

“You thought you were gonna be some great man?” Void had kicked Bob to the ground, he stood tall. He paused before he continued again, “Some savior? You can’t even save yourself,”

Bob got up this time, but Void quickly put him down again, “We will always be alone.”

His words were painful, but Bob stood, and charged at him. Tackling him to the ground.

Yelena was struggling to breath a bit, Void had tied something around her neck, trying to egg Bob on, make him angry, accept the dark part of him.

He kept punching, over, and over.

Beating Void, but that was what he wanted. The shadows began to consume Bob, “Stop, Bob, stop it!” Yelena yelled, trying to get free.

Alexei used all his strength, lifting the metal off them enough to get Yelena out of the binds.

She ran as fast as she could to Bob, hugging him, “You’re not alone” she whispered.

And his punches slowed, but not enough, not yet.

Quickly the rest of you were able to get free, running over as well, all of you wrapped around Bob. As the Void lost.

You returned, all of you.

The shadow that engulfed New York began to retract itself.

Unfortunately Valentina was able to use this to her advantage. Debuting you six as the New Avengers.

Alexei actually thought AvengerZ was better.

It didn’t matter though, because at least this way you could keep that evil woman in check, and you kinda got a new family out of it.

For once in a long time, everything felt okay, you were going to be okay.

14 months had passed since then, you all lived in a new Compound together as a family. You still wonder what the old Avengers would’ve thought of you now.

Maybe they’d be proud, that you continued on, despite the pain. Or would’ve hated the idea of a new team of Avengers.

“Sam’s suing us for use of the Avengers name,” Bucky let out a low sigh, sitting down on the couch beside you.

A small laugh left you, before you stopped and realized his serious expression, “Wait, he can do that?”

Alexei laughed, as he still tried to sell Yelena and John on his new, ‘AvengerZ’ team sweaters.

Bucky walked over to Yelena, getting more info on the supposed unidentified ship nearing Earth.

Alexei gave you one of the sweaters as he argued with John about supposedly using Bob as some kind of rocket to launch them all into space. Safe to say Bob wasn’t amused.

“That sweater looks dumb,” Ava smiles at you, taking Bucky’s empty seat beside you.

“Really? I think it’s growing on me.”

She just rolled her eyes at your words, “Don’t let Alexei hear, it’ll get to his head.”

With that, Ava gave you a light pat on the head.

This was nice, you were happy, even if your team was going through legal issues and was a weird set of characters. You wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Life with the New Avengers(Z) wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[ailithnight]

Question for all my fellow fic writers:

For example: If you are writing a DC fic where the main characters are the Teen Titans, and any other DC characters are side characters; would you tag Superman dying in that fic as MCD because he is a main character of the DCverse, or not tag it because he's only a side character in that fic?

Obligatory 'Please reblog for better sample size' blah blah blah.

[apple-onigiri]

see my vision: put together, odile, isabeau and siffrin would actually decimate a bar trivia night

odile The Library Goer and Non-Fiction Reader deigns no explanation and would prolly be very good at humanities. isabeau, similarly, is crazy smart (even if he contorts himself backwards in his attempts to conceal it) and would destroy any logic-related questions. and siffrin is both a theatre nerd and very well-traveled - i bet there's enough space in that island-related memory-curse-addled head of theirs to fit a lot of culture facts and he can wrangle art-related questions, as long as he doesn't directly think about them too much

[partfae]

when elrond finally sailed i like to think that he saw celebrían waiting for him on the shore and leapt from the boat, splashing through the waves until he could run to her, unable to bear even another moment apart.

[confessionofanardentheart]

3.8 Over the Brandy

The Brothers Karamazov is often called a novel of ideas; however, this reading may understate the underlying dynamic between the realm of ideas and discourse and the realm of emotion and unspoken pathos*. The ideal elements of the conversation over the brandy— the Russian people, the Church, the existence of God— are overflown by an unstoppable vital force, brought about by Fyodor Pavlovich's drunk and uninhibited state, rather than an order of ideas. In return, discourse itself heightens sensations and excites Fyodor's sadistic joy, particularly against the holy and the feminine; and Ivan’s growing anger, which manifests as dismissal of symbolic ideas. See, for instance, his refusal to engage with Smerdyakov’s words at the start of the chapter.

Alyosha, on the other hand, engages with ideas and his own emotions with sincerity. When asked a question, he will answer earnestly, when hearing of depravity, he will blush. The back- and- forth comes to an end when the unspoken rises to the surface, in the form of Alyosha's convulsive tears. He has run out of words and through him, the pathos of the shrieker, the defiled, manifests.  This interruption breaks Ivan out of his shell of distance and irony, no longer standing in the margins,  letting his anger rot: “his mother, I think, was also my mother, wasn’t she?”. With those furious words, he claims his place as an orphaned son of the humiliated Mother— a stray son of this degraded Earth— as well as eligible for parricide of the Father and God. The taboo is out in the open.

*In the Greek sense, if it wasn't evident.

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Links:

@keepingupwiththekaramazovs

[tayfabe75]

"'She Lays Down' is about my mum. It doesn't get much more personal than that. I'm sure my mum won't mind me saying this, but she told me a story when I was about 17, she was so gripped by post-natal depression that she was coming into my room when I was a couple of months old, lying on the floor and actively trying to love me. How fucking brutal is that? That is brutal – especially considering how close me and my mum are. We are like, insanely close. That resonated with me so much, I think that writing music for me is such a catharsis, and such a personal thing, I think that had to come out."

December 4, 2016: Matty says the song that means the most to him on his album 'I Like It When You Sleep…' (NME's Album of the Year) is the song 'She Lays Down'. (source)

[kafeicreme]

a few days after my first drawing, Hot Topic launched a KH collection.

OF COURSE I NEEDED TO DRAW A SEQUEL.

They surely didnt expect that

[nterror-blog]

There's been talk about the question "Can Dick cook?" and this just sums up my personal view of it perfectly

He can if he can keep the focus, but for someone with a touch of the ADHD it's not gonna work always. That's also the reason we so often see Dick having cereal for breakfast. Because imagine being half awake and already wanting to do handstands or something and other breakfast options mean you have to wait.

[son-of-avraham]

I've been doing a lot of reflection as of late, especially after this past class.

This past class was about the Torah and Tanakh in general, and the way the rabbi talked about the commandments (specifically the ten commandments) has made me really reflect on how I interpret them, specifically the fifth commandment, or honoring your mother and father.

This is a commandment I have wrestled with for a long time - in fact, it brought me away from g-d at multiple times. I was severely abused when I was incredibly young by my mother, and I used to feel insulted at the implication that I were to honor her while she got to live a better life. It was hypocritical, in my eyes.

But this rabbi surmised that this particular commandment was because parenthood is an act of creation, something that is like the g-d from which we come from. My realization is this: I don't think we're necessarily meant to take even these commandments literally.

I this particular commandment is more of a call to honor creation - creation is a gift, and like any gift, many people simply will not like it and will discard it. The person who abused me created me, but she did not honor creation. She didn't honor me, but I can still honor it.

I have started to honor creation much more. I'm too young, too unstable, not mature enough to be a father (though I fantasize about it), but I create all the time. I create relationships, I create with my hands through crochet. I create memories, I create my world. And I can honor who I am and where I came from that made me who I am. I've been learning one of the mother tongues of my family (Italian, since part of my family originates there) and it was judaism that inspired me to do this.

I don't think g-d wants me to honor my abuser. I think He wants me to remember the Holy action of creation. When I am a father, that act of creation will be Holy, and indeed, I am already joyful about the thought.

I have seen many people struggle with this particular commandment, but I think this perspective helps me personally. I don't think I ever have to forgive my abusers (plural), and I don't think I am commanded to simply because they happened to be family. I am commanded to recognize the holy, to elevate the mundane. In doing so, I will remember g-d. Through creation, I honor g-d and everything he has done for us, for me, and for our collective people.