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dustedmagazine · 4 years

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Ian Mathers’ 2020: We’re stuck inside our own machines

I’ve had a song I loved in high school and haven’t thought much about since stuck in my head. The song “Apparitions” by the Matthew Good Band is a fine example of the alt rock of the late 90s; if you grew up then but somewhere down in the states (or elsewhere) instead of my southern Ontario you may well have your regional equivalents, and like this one they may not resonate terribly strongly outside of their time and place. It popped back into my head after a long time recently and of course 2020 has changed it a little. A song that as a teen I felt keenly as about loneliness (albeit also about how technology can feed into that) of course now plays on my nerves as another small piece of art about the way that most of us (those scared and/or responsible anyway) have only that relatively narrow, technologically mediated connection to the people we love. All of us, artists and listeners alike, are trying to fit our feelings and art and selves down these little connections, with some success.

On a personal level, 2020 wound up being stressful in ways we couldn’t have predicted even after the pandemic hit. In circumstances that could have seen governments on this continent support those unable to work (and those who shouldn’t have to), support those workers who are truly essential, support workers and renters and even landlords and small businesses, instead we got a near-total abeyance of those governments using the resources we provide them with to save any of us. On a personal level my wife and I were lucky enough to be able to work from home (not that it didn’t come with its own forms of stress, and now that I’m off until January I have several work/stress-related illnesses to recover from) but still saw friends and loved ones lose good, used-to-be-sustainable livings overnight, saw family businesses succumb to a near-total absence of effective government support after months of trying to keep above water, etc.

It is probably no surprise that this is not a situation conducive to listening to music, let alone writing about it; I have deliberately and happily kept busy on behind the scenes stuff at Dusted that I could still manage but looking, at the end of the year, at the amount I managed to actually create is demoralizing if not at all shocking. I’m not sure I think next year will be ‘better’ in many important ways, although at our job there is a growing feeling among coworkers that next year has to have some work/life balance because 2020 was, maybe more than anything else, unsustainable.

That’s not to say I didn’t spend a lot of time and emotion on music this year, and if nothing else constant sleep deprivation, stress, and panic meant I was probably open to being deeply moved by all sorts of art even more than normally (it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even read a sad or moving twitter thread out loud to my wife without getting teary, which is kind of… nice?). Funnily enough the band that did the most to keep me sane didn’t really put out anything in 2020. Personal favorite, Low, instead started, in early April, getting on Instagram with something they called on whim “It’s Friday I’m in Low.” With one brief break they have now done by my count at least 35 shows (catalogued here, by the way), every Friday at about 4 my time.

Admittedly it’s easier for Low to pull this off than some bands, since the 2/3 of the trio that sing are a married couple (they’ve had a couple of socially-distanced backyard shows with bassist Steve Garrington, but he’s mostly been isolating elsewhere). These shows have seen the band’s Alan Sparhawk take a mid-set break to do follow-up phone interviews with the acts featured in the COVID-curtailed touring bands series Vansplainingthat they started on YouTube, or just to give a tour round their vegetable garden and talk tips. It’s seen Alan and Mimi Parker draw on their impressive, 25+ year body of work (averaging 4-5 songs a set, I don’t think they’ve repeated themselves yet) and talk a bit between songs about pandemics, politics, song choices, and whether Alan should grab his bike helmet this time.

They’re not the only musicians out there speaking love and sanity (and playing music) into the strange digital interzone filled with hate and disinformation where we’ve all been forced to gather while locked down, but they were and the most consistent and steady signal being emitted each week. No matter how tired I was from work or what new symptoms I’d developed or what horrific thing I read into the news, even if I had to take an emergency nap while it was actually airing, every Friday the show was there. Once things do return to something more like normal, it’s one of the few things I’ll unambiguously miss about this weird-ass year.

So if that makes an argument for Low as my band of the year (admittedly again… it’s not like Double Negative has aged poorly, either), that does a disservice to those 2020 records I did connect with; even if there are still literally dozens I have to go through, many of which I expect to love, my top picks this year (if as unrankable by me as always) hit me as hard as any top pick in recent years did. So here I present a quick and informal top 5, which the rest of my top 20 following in alphabetical order. Here’s hoping for more time and space in 2021 for music, and even more than that, for more support for those who need it from those who could have been providing it all this time. (The Matthew Good Band, incidentally, always did best with their ballads. “Strange Days” is another I’ve had in my head these days; the image of moving “backwards, into a wall of fire” has stuck with me since the 90s and it’s never felt more grimly appropriate.)

Greet Death — New Hell

New Hell by Greet Death

This one is, in some sense, cheating; it came out November 2019. But that just means it’s the latest winner of my personal Torres Prize for Ian Being Late to the Party (so named because becoming slightly obsessed with Torres’ Sprinter just after I sent in my 2015 list was the first time I noticed that one of my favorite records of each year tends to get picked up by me just after I call it quits on the year, no matter how long I try to wait). This very doom and gloom slowcore/metal/(whatever, just know it’s heavy) trio at first felt very much like my beloved Cloakroom (whose Time Well has also won a Torres Prize) but sure enough nuances revealed themselves. Back in February it felt almost a little too negative, but then the rest of 2020 happened. And the extended burns of “You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done” and the title track remain searing.

Holy Fuck — Deleter

youtube

Probably the record I’ve been trying to write about the longest in 2020, and the one I’m most disappointed in myself that I just couldn’t get the requisite paragraphs together. It’s a wonderful effort from the consistently great Toronto resolutely human-created (and —mediated) dance music quartet, one that both feels like a summation of everything they do well, and with the addition of some outside voices (including strong turns from the singers of both Hot Chip and Liars) a step forward at the same time.

Spanish Love Songs — Brave Faces Everyone

Brave Faces Everyone by Spanish Love Songs

As the year got worse, this roar of defiance only got more crucial for me to hear every so often; I was a big enough fan of it, even after writing it up for Dusted, that when they solicited fan footage for a subsequent music video you may just be able to get a glimpse of me in it. (I’m the one in a “No Tories” t-shirt.) My punk rock-loving twin brother was the one who introduced me to Spanish Love Songs and we were supposed to spend an evening in June screaming along to them live in a packed, sweaty room. I need that in my life again.

Julianna Barwick — Healing Is a Miracle

Healing Is A Miracle by Julianna Barwick

It’s a sign of what 2020 has been like here that even just this album title leaves bruises, and while I privately worried Barwick would have a hard time following up 2016’s sublime Will (probably my favorite record that year), it seems that continuing to take whatever downtime she needs to keep focusing and refining her particular muse has once again yielded amazing results. Anyone who thinks they know what a Barwick track sounds like should really check out, say, “Flowers”, but much of this record absolutely sounds like Barwick, just even better than before. She also boasted my wife and I's favorite streaming concert of 2020, an absolutely gorgeous rendition of this album with Mary Lattimore showing up.

Phoebe Bridgers — Punisher

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers

I joked on Twitter recently that I have far too nice a dad (and far too good a relationship with him) to be as obsessed as I am with Phoebe Bridgers’ “Kyoto”, but here we are. Like most of her generation, Bridgers’ social media presence ranges from shit-posting to inscrutable, but even though things are often just as hard to figure out in her beautiful songs (as they often are in life), there’s an emotional clarity to them that can just grab you deep down. Couple that with seriously impressive songcraft and the progress from her already astounding debut Stranger in the Alps and more than anyone else in 2020 I’m excited to see just where the hell Phoebe Bridgers is going to go, because it feels like she’s talented and hardworking enough to go just about anywhere and drag a lot of our hearts with her.

Other Favorites

Aidan Baker & Gareth Davis — Invisible Cities II

Anastasia Minster — Father

Deftones — Ohms

Hum — Inlet

Kelly Lee Owens — Inner Song

Mesarthim — The Degenerate Era

Perfume Genius — Set My Heart On Fire Immediately

Protomartyr — Ultimate Success Today

Rachel Kiel — Dream Logic

The Ridiculous Trio — The Ridiculous Trio Plays the Stooges

Sam Amidon — Sam Amidon

Shabason, Krgovich & Harris — Philadelphia

Stars Like Fleas — DWARS Session: Live on Radio VPRO

Well Yells — We Mirror the Dead

Yves Tumour — Heaven to a Tortured Mind

Five Reissues/Compilations/etc.

Aix Em Klemm — Aix Em Klemm

Bardo Pond — Adrop/Circuit VIII

Charles Curtis — Performances & Recordings 1998-2018

Coil — Musick to Play in the Dark

Hot Chip — LateNightTales

Ian Mathers

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chasholidays · 7 years

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Snowed in bellarke!

Clarke knows are worse ways to spend Christmas Eve than trapped in a shopping mall with her ex. She could be in a hospital, for example, working like she did last year, or, even worse, there for an actual emergency with herself or a loved one. She could be starving, or homeless, or in some actually bad situation. Hell, she could be stuck here with Finn or Lexa, which would be a thousand times worse than being with Bellamy.

Because, honestly, the worst part of being with Bellamy is that their breakup hasn’t entirely scabbed over, and every time she looks at him, it chips away at her stubborn belief that she’s fine, that she doesn’t regret it.

Maybe Finn or Lexa would be better after all. They would have had an uncomfortable greeting, a quick chat, and then she would have come up with an excuse to go somewhere else. The mall isn’t so large she couldn’t have avoided them, and they probably would have let her.

With Bellamy, she’s already trying to come up with a list of questions to prolong the conversation.

He’s the one who approached her, coming up while she was browsing books, hesitant like he wasn’t sure he’d be welcome. It’s the first time she’s seen him since they broke up almost exactly a year ago, and the sight of him was a shock, but with greetings and the weather sure is frightful pleasantries out of the way, she’s already getting used to it.

She still keeps stealing glances at him, but that’s a different issue.

“You’re not going out to see Octavia this year?” she asks, as they leave the bookstore. It feels like thin ice, skating close to the dangerous waters of their breakup.

“No.” He sighs. “She’s in Norway now, actually.”

“Norway?”

“Apparently she was right about her online marketability. I didn’t think she could actually make a living running around the world posting hiking pictures on Instagram, but she marketed herself, got sponsors–” He shrugs. “I’m not ready for the social media age.”

“I could have told you that,” she teases without thinking, and to her relief, he smiles.

“You did tell me that.”

“I tried, anyway. Still, I’m sorry,” she adds. “It must be tough, having her so far away.”

“It’s got its ups and downs. I don’t know. I think someday we’re going to find a happy medium between how much I need to know how she’s doing and how independent she needs to be, but right now, we’re still working on it.”

“If it helps, that sounded really mature and emotionally healthy.”

He snorts. “Thanks. I’ve been practicing in front of the mirror.” He looks at her hard, considering, and when he asks, “So, who’s the last-minute shopping for?” she thinks it probably wasn’t really what he wanted to say.

But it’s not hard to figure out what that would have been. Not with their history.

“My mom. I was putting it off because I never know what to get her, and she never knows what day it is anyway. I’ll send this late and she won’t even realize I missed Christmas.“

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he says, deliberate.

“I knew it was Christmas Eve.”

“And did you actually know you were putting off shopping this long?”

He’s trying to make it teasing, but the tone doesn’t entirely land. It’s getting too close to old wounds.

Clarke considers her and Bellamy’s breakup a perfect storm of shittiness. She’d been working herself to death at the hospital, convinced that was the only way to become the success she thought she should be, while Bellamy was dealing with his sister drifting further and further away. Their frustrations hadn’t really been with each other, but she couldn’t be the partner he needed, and he couldn’t be the one she needed either.

After years of flirting, it turned out they’d ended up finally getting together at the worst possible time, and Clarke’s regretted how their short disaster of a relationship went ever since, without having a very good idea of how to fix it. Everything Bellamy had said about her priorities had been true, and even if her life has changed since then, she’s never known how to fix it. The problem certainly wasn’t just that she worked too much; he fucked up too. At this point, she’s half-convinced that they just weren’t meant to be romantically involved. That they had some sort of fundamental incompatibility.

But maybe they could be friends again. Maybe that would be enough.

“I knew, yeah. I kept hoping I was going to find something online so I wouldn’t have to go to the post office.”

He smiles. “Yeah, that’s the real pain. But no luck?”

“I’m not good at online shopping. I need to see my options.”

“But still nothing?”

“Still nothing.”

“So, where are you going next?”

“Best Buy.” She frowns. “What were you here for? You’re always on top of Christmas shopping.”

“One of my coworkers found out I didn’t have Christmas Eve plans, so she invited me to a party. Which is now canceled because of weather, so I’m just stuck out here instead.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t care that much. I wasn’t really excited about going out.”

“You, not excited about a social event?” she teases, and he laughs.

“I know, it’s shocking. Best Buy?”

The relief that he’s coming with her is so profound it’s almost staggering; she tries not to smile too widely.

“Best Buy.”

She buys her mother a FitBit, because it seems like her mother’s kind of thing, and Bellamy stuffs his hands in his pockets, waiting awkwardly for her to be done. Every time he has a chance to leave and doesn’t, her heart soars, and she has to remind herself that they were always friends. Getting along was never their problem.

“You think the food court is open?” she asks.

“Probably. Everyone’s stuck here past closing time, the stores are probably thrilled.” He makes a face. “Sucks for the employees.”

The mall was supposed to close at five, but the storm came in suddenly around four-fifteen, roads became impassable out of nowhere, and now they’re stuck here until the plows can clear the parking lot.

“We can put a twenty in the tip jar,” she offers, and he smiles.

“Can’t hurt. What were you thinking?”

They talk options on the way to the food court, end up at the Chinese place because Bellamy’s craving egg rolls. There are a decent number of people milling around–at least she wasn’t the only one caught off guard by the storm–but they don’t have any trouble finding a table with relative privacy.

It doesn’t exactly feel like a date, but it’s nice.

“Is this going to be a problem with work?” he asks, once they’ve started eating. “When’s your next shift?”

“Tuesday,” she says, and waits for his surprise.

It doesn’t take long. “You actually got Christmas off?”

“No, we’re closed on Christmas.” She smiles a little. “I switched jobs.”

A clump of rice drops from his chopsticks. “Switched jobs?”

“Yeah, I’m working at a clinic now. Fewer hours, less overtime–it’s not perfect, but the work/life balance is a lot better.”

“What does your mom have to say about that?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “She thinks it was bad for my overall career. There are fewer opportunities for job advancement, and the pay is worse. But it’s my life, not hers.”

“And you’re happy?”

“Yeah. It’s so much better.” She worries her lip, trying to calculate the correct ratio of apology to gratitude to regret. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. When you told me I wasn’t happy–you were right, and I shouldn’t have lashed out.”

His mouth tugs up. “I shouldn’t have brought it up in the middle of a meltdown. We were both having a shitty time and decided to make it worse for each other. We both fucked up. But we’re both doing better now, right?” he adds, and there’s a hopeful lilt to his tone.

She thinks there is, anyway.

“I am, yeah.”

“Good. I’d, uh–I’d been wanting to call you. I hated that we just totally lost touch.”

“Yeah, me too. Is it weird that I felt like I had to get my life right first? Either I had to be happy with the job I was in or get a new one.”

“No, I get that.” He taps his chopsticks on the styrofoam container with his food in it. “Maybe we’re just supposed to be–friends when things are going well.”

The hitch in his voice at the word friends is either awesome or heartbreaking, and the fact that he could still break her heart is definitely just scary. Not surprising, really, but scary all the same. It’s probably the biggest reason she never got in touch again, the nagging fear that he wouldn’t want anything to do with her.

“Or maybe we just need to get better at dealing with crises,” she offers.

His whole face relaxes with his smile. “Maybe, yeah.”

The silence that follows isn’t exactly awkward, but Clarke doesn’t know how to fill it. She wants to tell him that she misses him, that she regrets losing him, but it feels like a lot to confess in a mall food court.

The PA crackles into life, postponing the issue. “Attention shoppers. We are still working to clear the road and parking lot. The theater will be opening for special showings of Star Wars: The Last Jedi for any patrons who would like to purchase tickets. We apologize for this inconvenience.”

Bellamy catches her eye. “How many times have you seen that?”

“Just once.”

“Wow, you’re behind. Did you not like it?”

“It’s only been a week, shut up.”

He grins. “So, you want to check it out?”

“If we can’t leave anyway.” She frowns. “You still don’t have a car, right?”

“No, I took the bus. I’ll probably get a Lyft home once we’re cleared out.”

“You don’t have to, I can give you a ride.”

He starts a response and then stops it, frowning. “If it’s not too late, sure. That would be nice.”

“You were going to tell me I didn’t have to, weren’t you.”

“And I know you know that, so–yeah, a ride would be great. I’ll pay for your movie ticket, so we’re even.”

“For the negligible cost of gas, sure. I’ll get candy.”

It’s an easy pattern to fall back into, movies with Bellamy. She remembers what snacks he likes, he knows where she likes to sit. They’ve done this dozens of times, throughout their friendship and relationship, and it feels like getting back into the right groove.

She leaves her hand on the arm rest between them, too, like she used to, and after a minute, Bellamy reaches over and takes it.

After the movie, he lets go, and she’s the one to reclaim his hand, lacing their fingers together as they leave. It can’t possibly be this easy, but she thinks there are worse messages to send than that she wants it to be.

“The parking lot has been cleared, and you’re free to leave,” an exhausted-looking cinema employee tells them, as they leave the theater. “Happy holidays.”

“Happy holidays,” she echoes.

They’re quiet as they make their way out to the parking lot, and once they’re outside, it’s even quieter, the whole world white and soft with snowfall.

“So, uh, I was thinking,” says Bellamy, not whispering, but low, trying not to break the spell of the night.

“What?”

“It seems like neither of us has plans for Christmas Eve. So if you wanted to–” He lets out a quiet laugh, squeezes her fingers. “I miss you so fucking much, Clarke.”

“I miss you too. All the time.”

“Good,” he says, and tugs her in by their linked hands, ducking his head to kiss her, soft and careful, perfect.

Somehow, against all odds, it’s actually an amazing Christmas Eve. And Christmas is shaping up to be even better.

#londonrainings

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rpchive · 6 years

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Ninety Eighth Encounter-- All Fun, Possible Profit

see, Maya has a fun side...sorta?

Maya is in the console room with Zenith, Nydins, and Rio. Zenith seems a bit sheepish around her still.

Zenith: ...If we're gonna be meeting up again, you'd better not bring any guns this time!

Maya: Oh, there won't be any weapons. Just a table and an empty bottle. Surely you can handle that. Collin pokes his head into the console room. "Uh, did I just hear Maya suggest playing 'spin the bottle'?" Maya: Well, yes and no...look, just meet me in the practice room...with everybody again. I'll explain when we're all together. Collin: Alright, but everyone's going to be a little gunshy after the last time we did this. Quite literally, in my case at least. Maya: Feel free to check me at the door, if that's the case. Hell, I'll play nude if you want.

Rio: P-please don't! Collin: Y-Yeah, we're good there. I'll see you guys in a little bit then. Maya heads for the room along with Nydins and Rio. Gradually everyone is made aware of another meeting and files back in to the training room, although Fawkes seems far more on alert this time around. Maya and the others are there; a large, circular table in the room along with a singular, empty glass bottle just within arms reach.

Maya: So, I don't need to explain Spin the Bottle to anyone, right? But we won't be playing truth or dare, or kissing, or anything like that. Anyone can spin the bottle, but whoever it points to has to say something personal. Something about themself; somethin' they've been thinking...stuff like that. Figured I should lighten up on you guys a little...for now, anyway. Daedalus: What, team building exercises? I hadn't expected something so... juvenile from the person who pulled a gun on us the last time we gathered up. Maya: But you still don't know anything about yourselves, do you? Oh, but you can still lie. It doesn't matter what you say, but everyone has to say something about themself. Collin: I... guess we can manage that. Uh, who's going first? Maya: Whoever wants to. This is all for you guys, after all. Daedalus: Alright, fine, I'll get this thing moving then.

He strides up to the table and casually spins the bottle around. The bottle slowly stops on Demo, who leans back in her chair and sighs. "My birds aren't the only things that can hide what they really look like, even if you manage to see what I look like under this, it won't be totally right. So I don't really have an animal form like Jay does..."

canon explanation for how Demo...probably isn’t actually a seahorse, but she also probably said that a little to uhh...cover up that her True Form is kind of embarrassing, as if being a bunny isn’t

Grabbing the bottle, Demo spins it, and it lands on Jay.

alienrabitt: ...I, uh...I'm sorry about...I mean...

Maya: Pass the bottle. You can try again later...

Jay wordlessly puts the bottle back in the middle of the table. Fawkes steps forward and takes hold of the bottle. His hand twists around at the wrist and spins the bottle like a top. The bottle stops on Maya, who looks surprised for a moment. Leaning forward, she removes the toothpick she's been chewing on. "...Back in Lobotomy; I had a coworker who was with me for 3 months who was about my age. She transferred to a new department, and was dead in 3 days. She was my first employee when I became a manager. I still have nightmares about the corpse."

if Nydins ever grabs her or she winds up having a breakdown or something, this will be Very Relevant

Casually, she spins the bottle, and it lands on Collin. Maya returns the toothpick and leans back into her chair. Collin: ... Jesus, I had to follow that up, huh? Maya: Hey, you can spin again if you're chicken. Collin: It's not that, it's... Nevermind, uh...

He messes with his hair for a few seconds before he continues. "... I try to keep my leg on as often as possible because something about it stops this awful pain I get where my leg used to be." XL: That sounds like more than phantom limbs...is something going on again? Collin: I don't think so? It's not like it's constant, or always painful. Honestly the pain is almost preferable over it itching. Have you tried scratching a foot that you don't have? XL: No, only making expressions without a face. But I'm glad something isn't wrong again...

Demo: Yeah, Jay'd probably lose his other arm or something freaking out. Maya: Back to the bottle, please? Collin: Oh, right, sorry.

He grabs the bottle and spins it again. The bottle stops on Zenith, who glances away for a moment, and stares at the table the entire time they respond. "I, uhh...I don't really remember who I used to be all that much yet, but I still miss our mom a little...wherever she is..."

that’s okay, you’ll get over it :)

Clair gets quiet for a minute.

Zenith spins the bottle, which lands back on Demo.

Demo: Seriously? Fine. I don't have any of the weird allergies Jay had, so I just...intentionally eat stuff I know he can't, because he can't.

alienrabitt: Dude, what the hell?

Demo: Hey, you can't have it, why shouldn't I? Daedalus: Hey, someone's gotta eat that stuff, right? Demo spins the bottle, which points towards Daedalus. Daedalus: Ah hell, guess it had to happen at some point. Alright, uh... I'm almost done with my first piece of armor. That work? Maya: That...doesn't have much to do with you yourself. Daedalus: Says a lot if you think about it for a second. But fine, how about... I stole a whole bunch of classic rock CDs from the music room because so far it's helped me work the best. Silky: Is it really stealing if anybody can use them? Daedalus: Sheesh, you guys are so pedantic sometimes. Silky: I'm just saying, it's nobody's personal property. Daedalus: Whatever. That's where they are, if you're looking for them. Now then...

He quickly steps up and gives the bottle another spin. The bottle lands on Rio, who jumps slightly in surprise. "U-um, there's not much else to know about me! I don't know anything you guys don't either."

Maya: It's true; she can't say much else. Collin: Really? Not even like a favorite foo- okay well food's a bad example but you know what I mean.

cannocly they can eat

Rio: I, uhh...I like cats? Collin: Works for me.

Fawkes: I'm surprised we don't have any sort of pets on the IT, now that I think about it. alienrabitt: The IT theoretically could make animals, but...I wouldn't suggest it. Stuff made by the green sun...

Demo: Well, it might wind up like me, huh?

alienrabitt: ...Or worse. Daedalus: No alien Frankenstein pets, got it. Nervously, Rio spins the bottle, which lands on Fawkes. Fawkes: Hmm... Despite all of my recent modifications to my systems, I still feel slightly at a loss for a primary directive. Maya: But you're still functioning, huh? Fawkes: Of course. My body hasn't encountered any severe issues and no fatal exceptions have occurred in my systems. I just cannot shake the feeling that I should be doing something... more. Maya: Just don't try to become a god or something; wouldn't wanna break anyone's toy soldiers... Fawkes: Considering I can't even enter certain magical areas, I find that a little out of my reach. Maya: Magic...I hate that stuff. Didn't matter what kind of abnormality I was dealing with; the magic ones were always the worst. Hopefully you guys can change that... Fawkes: Hopefully indeed. At any rate...

He grabs the bottle and gives it another hefty spin. The bottle stops for a moment; anyone paying enough attention can see it stop at Nydins, but as she stammers nervously, failing to come up with anything to say, the bottle moves slightly to point to Azreldeh, who casually points out that the bottle hadn't even landed on Nydins and that she shouldn't worry about it so much.

Nydins: ...O-oh! I guess it didn't, haha! Alright, um, I guess it's on you, huh?

Azreldeh: Hmm...I've never had sex before. Well, not in my own body, anyway.

Firefly: Why the hell would you open with that?!

Azreldeh: Why not? We're all adults, right? Collin: Well yeah, but that's a little much to start out with, don't you think? Azreldeh: Well, if I'm too much for you to handle, maybe you just need a little more experience~.

alienrabitt: N-no way!! Get your own boyfriend!

Azreldeh: Sharing is caring, you know~.

Firefly: I wish you'd share less...!

the hot mess from hell

Collin: Good lord, just spin the bottle please... Rolling her eyes, Azreldeh spins the bottle, which lands on the pantheon. Ezorius: Oh, uh, one moment.

She seems to focus somewhere else for a moment and then comes back a second later. "Alright, since I'm already out here, um... I can play three instruments?" Maya: That's...not really personal... Ezorius fidgets for a second as she glances around at the floor before glancing back up. "I... get really jumpy if someone grabs me unexpectedly. It can scare me really easily, truth be told." Maya: ...Alright, that works. Next. Ezorius steps up and spins the bottle before shuffling back and letting Tellus swap out. The bottle stops on XL, who shrugs. "...When I dropped out of school for the war, Cosmia was the one working with Almiet. After she died, I blamed Almiet for years, but never said anything to her face. She hasn't called me out on it, but I'm pretty sure she knows..."

Rio: B-but you've let go since then, right?

XL: ...I guess. I'm not worried about revenge and avenging anymore...I've got more important things to worry about these days.

Demo: Things, or people?

XL: Bit of both. We all should. Leaning forward, XL spins the bottle, which lands on Clair.

Clair: S-seriously? ...Well, I guess I was gonna have to have a turn eventually. Um...ugh. You want something personal...I...we never went to any sort of public school. Our dad was always important to society for some reason or another, so we never really got to make any friends or anything outside of the Operation...

Rio: But you have us now!

Clair: ...Yeah...

Clair spins the bottle, which lands on Silky.

Silky: ...I don't miss being a celebrity in the slightest. I'm glad nobody recognizes me anymore.

She spins the bottle without waiting for input, and the bottle points back to Maya.

Maya: ...When I made my first suit, I didn't understand the difference between it and my normal clothes. I almost died just a few hours later. Nobody scolded me, nobody told me the difference; they just stopped the bleeding and told me I'd be back on the floor by tomorrow. They didn't give me my old suit back. Collin: Jesus Christ, how much worse could that place get? Maya: ...Well, I think everyone's said a little about themselves at this point. Unless you want to keep going...

Demo: You're avoiding the question.

Maya: And Jay never answered, but we're skirting that too, aren't we? Daedalus: And hey, don't forget Nydins either. So, we doing a lightning round or are we calling it here? Nydins: ...I can't see the future all the time; only when someone's actively doing something. When someone deliberately chooses to do something that would cause someone else to feel grief in any way, I can see the immediate reaction, or the highest point, but not the end result. So I don't tell you guys what I see most of the time; it doesn't always help. Daedalus: .... So your future vision literally only goes ahead by a few seconds? Nydins: N-not really! It's more random than that. It could be a few seconds; it could be hours later; sometimes even longer than that! It's wild, and unpredictable; all I know is what will cause grief, and who will be involved!

Maya: But that's still something to go off of. That helps somebody.

Nydins: ...Some things are unpreventable, though. Fixed points with so much weight that only a god could change them...and none have. Those points I can see at any given moment, but without context, I don't know when they could happen. Fawkes: Even still, we could at least plan around such an event so that we could have a plan of action after the fact, if not maybe even before. Nydins: ...Zenith, do you know where your mother is?

Zenith: My...huh? N-no, she's dead...

Nydins: She's not. I've seen her for weeks now. With you.

Clair: Th-that's impossible! After what she went through--...!!

Maya: And what, exactly, happened to her?

Clair: That's none of your business!!

Nydins: It becomes our business when it's going to hurt us; tell us what she is! I know she isn't dead, and I know she wants Zenith; why?!

Clair: How should I know?! We all thought she was dead after our father got desperate and started dragging in those...those things from Kujaar!!

Karumet: HE DID WHAT?!

Clair: M-mother was going to be a Zenith first; but when her body wasn't responding to human souls, Oz decided he needed to put something different in; but he wouldn't get anywhere with animals; and he couldn't get into the city; all he could do was use the things outside!

Karumet: Those things are shalvenn!! They're unstable; they...!! You're father was an idiot! No human could survive that!

Zenith: ...But a human with dozens of kleivenn souls?

Karumet: ...You bastards...you human bastards never learn a damned thing!! Collin: Okay okay, hang on a second. Nydins, does your vision give you any clue about when she shows up?

unsurprisingly, experimenting on shalvenn is...incredibly disrespectful

Nydins: She's not on the IT; I haven't seen anyone else with her besides Zenith. I don't know what happens to either of them... Collin: Damn, that really doesn't give us much huh? Alright, so how do we prepare for a Zenith but with shalvenn instead of humans? Karumet: She would have to have an amalgamated oracle...all the souls would be bound to it regardless, but...with that many kleivenn... Daedalus: Horribly out of control? Unfathomably powerful? Seriously angry at everything in existence? I'm just guessing at traits here, stop me if I'm right. Karumet: She could be capable of anything. We wouldn't be able to predict what she could do...

Maya: But that doesn't really matter so long as we can get close to her. Hell, we might not even need that!

Karumet: What are you suggesting...?

Maya: Speedwell poison. The one thing that can kill all of you regardless.

Rio: W-we can't keep something like that here!

Maya: Why not? I did. Not for long, but your ship still made it. Just make sure whoever has it is someone you trust completely. Daedalus: Well, I'm automatically out of the running. Anyone wanna volunteer for the kleivenn killing dart gun duty or however you guys plan on using that stuff? alienrabitt: ...Give it to Fawkes.

Maya: ...Why him?

alienrabitt: He's the only one who could do it. Hope for the best, plan for the worst, right? Even if she's got kleivenn magic, she can't do anything he won't be able to handle somehow. Anyone else could be taken out or stopped. Fawkes: A grim way of justifying it, but one I can't argue with. Is there a specific way I should use it? Karumet: ...No. So long as it winds up in her body by some means, she'll die. Fawkes: Then in that case, I'll begin developing a system for it as soon as I have it. I must admit, I don't take pride in manufacturing something like this, especially given my background. Given the situation however, it seems I have to play my part. Maya: So you're giving him the capability of killing kleivenn, even though you're allowed into Kujaar? Bold move.

alienrabitt: Don't say that like he'd just open fire on whoever he wanted!

Maya: Maybe not, but kleivenn are born from human wishes, right? So what's saying one couldn't adapt for technology? Fawkes: So you're concerned that a kleivenn might be immune to artificial weapons, or that it might be able to stop me somehow? Maya: I'm saying that the right kleivenn could use you against all of Kujaar. Fawkes: I would sooner self-destruct. Besides, whatever weapon I wind up making will not have an infinite supply. I don't intend to give myself the ability to manufacture speedwell. Maya: Good call. You're the only person here I couldn't get a read on for the life of me, but I think Jay's trust in you is justified. Fawkes: I try my best. He has known me just as long as Collin, essentially. Maya: Right, well then, I think everybody knows what they're doing now. Class dismissed.

Maya analyzes just about everything anyone does on the off chance that it could majorly backfire

------------------ Collin is sitting at a desk in his bedroom, leaning back in the chair. His gaze seems to go through the desk and off into nowhere as he becomes further lost in thought. Coming in from the hallway, Jay glances around the room.

"Zenith's not in here either? Jeez, where'd they go?" Collin snaps out of his thoughts and perks up slightly before turning in Jay's direction. "Huh? Oh, uh, I'm not sure either. Maybe they're in Clair's room?" alienrabitt: What're you doing all by yourself anyway? Staring at the desk won't do much to anything on it; but if you stare long enough, the IT might make it translucent. Collin: Not too much. I just keep thinking about Clair and Zenith's mom. I mean, she's a bunch of shalvenn fused together now, right? And if just one of those was strong enough to make you lose it and throw Demo and I into a desert after just being near it, imagine what fighting multiple would be like... alienrabitt: That...that wasn't me, but also, the fact that the kleivenn was shalvenn wouldn't give it the ability to do what it did, either. It was already capable of doing things to people; becoming shalvenn just made the things it did...worse.

like I’ve said, it wasn’t capable of that because it was a shalvenn, it was capable of what it did because becoming shalvenn altered its abilities. not all shalvenn would mess with somebody like that, most might not even be capable of something similar

not every saa can become a hermes either, but you know that :p

Collin: That was Tori that whole time? They didn't say anything when they called you Jay, so I just sort of figured... Well, anyway, that doesn't really change my point, does it? A bunch of crazy powers made crazier doesn't sound like the best of times. alienrabitt: Maybe not, but we can't really tell what she's capable of from here anyway. Besides, the point of making speedwell is so we won't have to give her the chance to use whatever abilities she has. Collin: Well, I hope it works out that way. I guess I just don't like all the unknowns about this whole thing. I mean, how do you even get your hands on that many shalvenn without anyone noticing? It's not like they're just wandering around everywhere to be yanked off the street. alienrabitt: Kujaar is surrounded by shalvenn left from the war, but that's the only place I could think of. Collin: True, but Nine could detect us from anywhere around there. How do you steal a bunch of those things from right underneath a kleivenn god's nose? alienrabitt: I don't think she would've gone anywhere near that sword. And she left those shalvenn there specifically to keep away nosey humans. Collin: I mean, that makes sense, but would Nine really be okay with someone just loading up shalvenn into a cart and hauling them off to God knows where? alienrabitt: I'm not even sure she knows about this; Karumet probably knows more than I do about them.

Collin: Think we should go bug her about it, then? alienrabitt: If you really wanna know more about Kujaar, she's the only one we could ask. Collin: Worth a shot. Beats staring at the desk thinking about what-ifs, at least. Jay and Collin leave their room and find Karumet and Zenith in Clair's room instead.

Karumet: ...I just don't know how anyone could get a sword like that. I mean, I have theories; but without seeing who it came from originally... Collin: Sorry, are we interrupting something? Zenith: We're just trying to figure out what's going on. Collin: Sounds like we're on the same page, then. So you guys are talking about that weird sword thing that Clair had? Clair: The stagblade, yeah.

Karumet: We still don't know who handed it off to Oz, or what he was looking for...

Clair: Well...I kind of do, but it's been so long... Daedalus' face suddenly pops in from the door way. "Time for a trip down memory lane, huh- Wow that's more people than I thought would be here." Clair: W-well at first it was just three of us...

Zenith: So what do you know about the sword?

Clair: Um, I was with dad when he got it...the woman who handed it to him had an arm like Jay's.

Karumet: ...You mean they were injured?

Clair: No, it was black and blue, just like that...

Zenith: N-no way! That doesn't just happen!

Karumet: You're right; we don't even know what really caused it to look like that... Daedalus: I feel like I'm missing something. What's so weird about having two colors exactly? Karumet: The color of a kleivenn's magic is representative of their self, while the color of their heart represents the wish of the person who commands them. But Jay's arm isn't either of those colors; and black is a color our magic simply can't become...

alienrabitt: But it wasn't always magic; it was...something physical, sort of. Not really rock, but something like it... Collin: Oh, so you're saying it was like when Jay's arm had that weird shell thing over it? Clair: I guess so... Daedalus: Alright, so impossible colors and impossible conditions. Sounds pretty identifiable at least. Is that all you remember about that little rendezvous? Clair: She told him to look for the spies.

Karumet: ...Of course. Both humans and kleivenn were killing off humans and replacing them with soldiers in order to sway things into their favor; but many kleivenn who took those roles became lost in the lie, and forgot who they truly were. Only one thing could reveal them, but whoever this was didn't seem to care for that... Daedalus: And what would the "one thing" be? Karumet: The Starlit Song. We made it as an identifier; any kleivenn in hiding could sing it, and any other kleivenn would know what it was. Unless the humans stole that from us too, we were the only ones who knew about it during the war.

the hardest part about inventing a plot important song is...lyrics

Collin: This is the first I'm hearing of it, at least. But this kleivenn just wanted Oz to hunt down other kleivenn? That seems a little counter-productive, doesn't it? Karumet: No. With Thallion seeking out the kleivenn being created after the war; and Oz weeding out spies; all that would be left to destroy is Kujaar, then themself.

Zenith: Do you think they were one of those spies too? Karumet: Sounds possible. Maybe they realized what was happening after we lost, and decided they needed to finish the job. Maybe they don't realize the war is over. Collin: That seems to be a pretty common thing, doesn't it? I don't get why it's so hard to get everyone to stop fighting. Karumet: These three were on the same side; but why? Even the kleivenn that was with Lana...something isn't right. Something bigger is happening here, and we just aren't seeing it yet. Daedalus: Oh boy, a new faction to have to tangle with, huh? Karumet: I don't even know...until we find the kleivenn that have Oz this sword, we won't know anything. We need to catch them alive...

Clair: We-- we can't just interrogate somebody!!

Karumet: They are killing us by the thousands; I can, and I will. Daedalus: Besides, we're talking about the kleivenn that gave your dad a soul stealing sword. "Good people" don't swing around shit like that, so it's not like we're just yanking some innocent schmuck into the hotseat. Clair: I just...I didn't want it to come to something like this.

Zenith: It's not your fault. You can't stop bad people from doing bad things. All you can do is hope you can stop them from continuing to do those things. Collin: It's all about making things as good as we can, and I think it's safe to say that whoever this kleivenn is does not share that sentiment. Karumet: Still, if the weapon is kleivenn made...I think I might know where it came from, assuming they haven't moved to Kujaar. Collin: Wait, really? Karumet: Yes. Though all kleivenn are capable of summoning weaponry, doing so would give the spies away, so a kleivenn began to make weaponry more similar to what humans make for them. Daedalus: A singular kleivenn made weapons for an entire network of spies? Either you didn't have a lot of spies or that kleivenn worked some serious overtime. Karumet: You underestimate the abilities of maryein kleivenn. Daedalus: ... I'll pretend that means something to me.

He hums in fake understanding and nods sagely. Karumet: ...Kleivenn born from a different sort of wish. Saa are born from the desires of others; maryein are born from talents. Collin: So the kleivenn is like... the essence of weaponsmithing or something? Karumet: Yes, exactly! Maryein exist to do one thing incredibly well for the rest of their life, just like humans! Except they're legitimately /made/ to do these tasks, whereas humans sort of...guess; settle; mess up... Daedalus: Is that a faint whiff of bias I smell, or is that just me? Karumet: Don't be ridiculous; you can't be better than somebody at something they were made to do! Collin: I'm reminded of some old story about a man that hammered in railroad spikes or something like that suddenly...

Daedalus: John Henry. Cloned minds think alike, apparently. Karumet: Oh, I'd love to see you pump out as much magical weaponry as they did. Daedalus: Hey, I'm just sayin', "never say never" and all that jazz. Karumet: Whatever; you're missing the point, you worthless bag of hot water. Daedalus: Hey, I was just making a joke originally, not my fault you got so bent out of shape about it. 'Course, if I could bend metal that easily, maybe I could keep up! Karumet: ...Look. If we find this kleivenn, we can find who the kleivenn responsible for all this is. That's what matters. Collin: Sounds good to me. They're not dangerous or anything, are they? The forger, I mean. Karumet: Wouldn't know. I wasn't a spy; I never went to meet them. I do, however, know the kleivenn in charge of escorting spies to retrieve their weaponry. Collin: So first them, and then the forger? How hard will it be to find them? Karumet: Not very; we already know them. You remember Iris, don't you? Collin: That's... She worked in the library in Kuujar, right?

Karumet: Well, that's where she works now, yes.

alienrabitt: Th...the librarian's assistant managed a ring of spies?

Karumet: Well yes, somebody had to.

alienrabitt: But her?!

Karumet: What, you act like people don't like to read anymore... Collin: That's... not really the issue.

Iris does seem pretty harmless, huh?

alienrabitt: Are you sure she can help us?

Karumet: Oh yes, she's got a fantastic memory; why do you think she works in a library? Daedalus suddenly gets a look of realization on his face, which quickly swaps out for an unbearably cheeky grin. "Guess you really can't judge a book by its cover after all, huh?" Karumet groans and rolls her eyes. "If you don't have anything to contribute, please leave; this is kind of important." Daedalus: I have plenty of things to contribute. Besides, someone has to keep you squares from getting too serious all the time. Karumet: Fine, then what do you have to say about all this? Daedalus: I already said my piece about the current topic. What, you want a stand-up session too? Karumet: Gods, no; please just...don't.

alienrabitt: So uhh...I guess we should go to Kujaar?

Karumet: Let's not put the cart before the horse yet; we can't just run off and investigate this without stopping that mess of shalvenn...

alienrabitt: Yeah, but we can't exactly fight her yet either. Might as well talk to Iris, right? Collin: Yeah, I still hear Fawkes working inside his room when I pass by, so there's probably still some time to go on that. Plus, maybe we can find something out that'll help us deal with it? Karumet: Alright, then you'd better tell Nydins where to go. Collin: Alright, I can do that.

He steps out of the room and heads off for the console room. Karumet and Jay follow, leaving Clair, Zenith, and Daedalus alone.

Zenith: ...So we're going to kill our mom too, huh...

Clair: What other choice do we have? If we don't, who knows what she'll do...?

Zenith: I know, but...you're gonna be all alone...

Clair: Well, at least I still have you, right?

Zenith: Y-yeah...uh, I guess I'll go with them and see what happens. Someone's gotta tell you anyway...

Zenith leaves without waiting for an answer. Daedalus: ... Well that was, uh... a little weird. Clair: S-sorry! You keep getting caught seeing these conversations. At least you can leave this time? Daedalus: True, but I did actually have a reason for coming here aside from giving the fish girl a hard time. Clair: Huh? What did you need? Daedalus: I was actually gonna ask about the whole... "mom" thing. I mean, it hasn't been that long since I uh... well, you know. And now we're on our way to... well, you know. Clair: ...She...she was fine when we were younger. I was probably 8 years old when she wound up at the Operation. Zenith probably didn't know her much... Daedalus: Lucky for them, huh? Guess this whole mess must be a little harder to swallow for you though. Clair: I just don't know how to feel yet...this is the first time I'll have seen her since she disappeared. Daedalus: Not to be harsh or anything, but who knows if it'll even be "her" when we find her? Are you sure you want to see something like that? Clair: ...I have to know what happened. If I can't make things right, the least I can do is...let her go. Daedalus: I can respect that. I'll be honest, it's hard for me to really understand this kind of thing, but it's easy to see it's not much fun. Clair: ...I just hope she doesn't hurt anyone. And I hope that whatever we're trying actually stops her... Daedalus: I think we're gonna have to wait and see on that one. I mean, all we really know is that she's with Zenith at some point according to Nydins' weird future vision thing. We don't really know anything she's done or /will/ do. Clair: But Nydins can only see things that cause grief, right? I guess she just knew we would have to kill her... Daedalus: ... Fair point. Just be careful if you really plan on going with us when we finally deal with her. You're not as sturdy as the giant bucket with a light-up face. Clair: Why would you go? She's gonna be dangerous... Daedalus: Weeell, I'm not totally decided on whether I'll join the party or not. Depends on how much backup the usual gang thinks they're gonna need, I guess. But hey, gotta give my stuff a test run at some point, so we'll see when the time comes. Clair: Just...be careful. I don't want more people getting hurt in this. Daedalus: I'll try my best. I doubt I'll get a third try if I wind up biting it again. Clair: I...don't really want to think about anybody dying to my mom like this... Daedalus: Er, sorry. Well, look, if there's anything else on your mind, I'm still here. If not, my door's always- well actually I keep it closed but I'll usually answer if you knock. Clair: ...Thanks... Daedalus: ... Is there anything else on your mind? You're gonna have to be patient with me, this whole "nice" thing is still a new concept. Clair: It's just weird. We never had any friends until we came here, after all. Daedalus: That makes three of- actually they might not consider me a friend still, which is... fair, honestly. But yeah, I sorta get what you mean. Nice change of pace, at least? Clair: Yeah. I hated that place. Being here is a little weird too, though. I think when thia is over, me and Zenith are gonna start going everywhere with you guys. I really want to see what's out there with them. It's what we deserve. Daedalus: Hey, you won't see me trying to stop you. Clair: ...Um, I guess that's all. Hopefully Iris or whoever can help us out. Daedalus: Fingers crossed. Anyway, like I said, let me know if you need anything.

He raises his hand in a small goodbye wave and ducks back out of the door.

aww, look at you making friends!

next time we meet the smith, and some stuff happens!

#[S4]

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rockinlibrarian · 8 years

Text

This is copied from my actual blog

(What follows was originally posted at Amy's Free Library of Rock, my actual Blog-blog as opposed to a Tumblr that I only usually REblog stuff on, but after @theselfexpress posted something yesterday I thought it might be good to have on Tumblr, too).

I'm kind of wincing at my own title. You know STORY is my favorite thing in the whole world. You know I'm all about the importance of stories and trying to separate the word "myth" from the concept of "falsehood." Story helps us give meaning to our existence. But we also sometimes use it to justify what we WANT to be true, even when it isn't. It's funny that this was a major theme in this season of Sherlock, too. I'd like to share my thoughts on that, sometime before it becomes too far past to be relevant. I'm also working on two different GeekMom articles at once (possibly three. Come Monday, if I don't get any more time to myself to type before then, definitely three). I also have (as usual, but at the same time worse than usual) a complete wreck of a house to deal with, a bunch of Christmas decor to put away, and a whole lot of commitments taking me out of the house, not to mention the day to day commitments of a family that somehow expects I should feed them everyday (even though they don't like much of anything I cook for them). There is SO MUCH I have to work on, and I haven't even mentioned settling back to do the final handsewing on my new butterfly brocade dress while watching the series of Soundbreaking I finally managed to get hold of, because that's pure leisure time. But I digress. (Often). I really want, right here right now, to address current events, yet again. We are at a scary moment of history. And if you disagree, this is probably due to the stories you are telling yourself, not the truth. And if you think the people who disagree ARE fully aware of the truth, you are also telling yourself stories, not seeing the full truth. The sad, frustrating, dangerous, and frankly somewhat traumatizing thing is, forces have transpired to fog the truth up for us. Gah, I know, that's vague. But that's the point. It would be nice to be able to point directly at Putin and blame the rise of totalitarianism on the Russian propaganda machine, but that's just part of it. It's easy to point to the new administration, which is doing it blatantly:

Re Spicer's lies, this is from someone who worked in a past administration. Important read. pic.twitter.com/XrjLJHRAGL

— Anna Rascouët-Paz (@rascouet) January 22, 2017

But again, that's just part of it. If we all called these things as they are, they wouldn't have any power. But the fog isn't coming out of a single sfx machine that we can just unplug. A spun story here, an appeal to People Like Me there, a information miasma without enough librarians, and countless individual stories-we-tell-ourselves being presented as truth in echo chambers among people telling similar stories, and you end up with a GREAT SMOG pouring in from countless directions. I'm super-sensitive to this fog, which is why I said it's somewhat traumatizing. It's traumatizing for ME. I don't like my mind being messed with. It makes me angry. It makes me frustrated. It makes me really really sad. And I feel like Cassandra when I see it happening and I can't get anyone to believe me (who doesn't already see it happening themselves). Let me show you how these things happen, using a tragedy that happened down the street from me this past fall as an example (skip the paragraph if you don't want to read a tragedy). Here is what happened, strict facts. A man who had been abusive and outright threatened to kill his pregnant wife showed back up to torment her and threaten her life again, even though she had a PFA against him. She called the police. Police showed up, too late, he's already shot and killed her and now he turns the gun out the window and shoots two officers, killing one, badly injuring the other. The police shut down the area and go on a manhunt for the rest of the morning, only to find the guy had killed himself right after. 'Kay. That's what happened. Here is one way the story could be presented, and was: the story of the police martyrs cut down in the line of duty by a cop-killer. This angle is still in evidence in our town-- the blue-and-black ribbons are still up all over, the signs that say "We stand with you, Cbg PD!" and "We salute our fallen officers." This angle really resonates with people, which is how my little neighborhood ended up making the national news. Implicit in this coverage is a "Those darn criminals keep killing our fine police officers!" message. And it goes farther, it gets turned into "Why do you keep accusing the police of brutality, can't you see THEY'RE the victims, THEY'RE the ones that keep getting SHOT DOWN because your lies about police brutality make people hate them?!" Whoa, slow down here. The guy shot them because he was a violent maniac and they were coming to arrest him, not because he was part of some cop-killer club or anything, lying in ambush just waiting to pick one off. Officer B truly did die in the line of duty, not out of some political demonstration. Now look at the way the story was NOT presented. I was surprised when the story made the national news because the sad fact is domestic abusers kill their partners ALL THE TIME, and you don't hear it on the national news unless one of them's famous or something really unusual and gruesome happened or, say, a cop got killed. Is this woman, and her unborn child, and all the other victims of domestic abuse, somehow less important than the police officers who were trying to save her? Is her life worth less? Why is her death not a national tragedy? Oh, sure, the police were in a way innocent bystanders, just doing their jobs, and they got shot. But isn't she equally innocent? Isn't it a tragedy that she's had to suffer at his hands and words all this time, that she tried to get help and protection and it ultimately didn't work? With all the black-and-blue ribbons all over town, in just one place do you see a memorial to her-- on the electric signpost of the drug store where she worked. Her coworkers love and miss her. But everywhere else she's forgotten. Now imagine what would have happened to the story the world saw if I change just one detail. You see, this woman was an immigrant from Egypt. Her killer husband was an all-american white boy with freakin' american flags waving off the back of his truck (I used to gawk at it, it was something). WHAT IF their ethnicities had been reversed? What if the killer was a Middle-Eastern immigrant and his wife was *gasp* blonde? If you don't think this would change the way this story was told, you haven't been paying much attention.

Y'all better make this VIRAL since any other media wont do it pic.twitter.com/A668T8CqmF

— ㅤ (@turntsIut) January 21, 2017

We all have our own Normals, based on where we grew up, where we live now, who we were raised by, and who we were raised among. When we see just a snapshot of another Normal, it's easy to jump to conclusions. Because this, people in that Normal must be this other thing. So we get a bit repulsed by the Others and retreat deeper into our own Normals, where everyone tells the same stories about What Normal IS that you do So we automatically frame what we see in terms of what we already consider normal. The story of the tragedy in my neighborhood takes on a different meaning depending on how you feel toward police officers, what your experiences or knowledge of domestic abuse is like, or how much you know about the culture to which any of the interested parties belong. We group people and experiences into "like me" and "not like me" categories in our heads, and when evidence goes contradictory to it, we rewrite our understanding of reality to fit. Sometimes we change our opinions. But other times we hold tighter to what we used to know as true. This is true across the board, but people who are still optimistic about our new president have had it particularly bad, lately. They were so excited to get a GOP president-- "GOP! Anti-Obama and Anti-Hillary! That means he's LIKE US!"-- that they fail to see that he's actually NOT. Oh, he's not a Democrat in disguise either, all right. He's not a normal president, period. But he must be good because he says things about Making America Great Again, and that's exactly what we want to hear, so....

Via @ddale8: Trump fans' favorite things about him are the stuff they made up in their own head pic.twitter.com/Jw6Xp7QClc

— Daniel Radosh (@danielradosh) January 19, 2017

Particularly fascinating are the folks in these pictures who admire his Godliness but wish he'd stop tweeting. I suppose because every tweet makes the UNGodliness stand out instead. It makes it hard for them to keep telling that story to themselves. If he keeps it up they may be forced to change their minds about him, and they'd rather not, so just shut up, Donny, and let them keep their fantasies, okay? Don't run away from reading me here yet, my conservative friends! Don't get complacent, my liberal ones! The Left has their own pretty stories, too. The most problematic one is lumping all President Trumpsterfire's supporters together with the worst of them. They've all made a serious mistake-- yes, you KNOW I think you've made a serious mistake, people who voted for him-- but not for nefarious purposes. Yes, they may kill people by taking away their health care, yes, they may invalidate people's marriages, yes, they may condone the persecution of millions of innocents because of their heritage or genetics, but they DON'T SEE IT THAT WAY. They know different Stories, they either don't HAVE all the facts or they can't make the facts fit into their Stories so they respin them as falsehoods. A few of them--a few-- really ARE hateful, bigoted scum. But when we call the REST hateful bigoted scum, too, it just makes it harder for them to listen to the actual truths you're telling that they need to hear! I've seen too many conservative friends bristling away from the movement toward justice because of this. I found the pictures from the Womens' Marches really inspiring yesterday. Then I saw a tweet from a conservative friend in response to someone who'd said LOOK HOW BEAUTIFUL EVERYONE UNITED EVERYONE IS WELCOME! "...not the Pro-Life ones," she replied bitterly. OUCH. I know what she means. I have no doubt that Pro-Life women WOULD have been and WERE welcomed into the marches, but a lot of Pro-Choicers have a problem how they talk about the Pro-Life movement-- they, too, lump people who genuinely believe in the sanctity of life with misogynists who just want to control women's sexuality. This is a particularly frustrating issue for me, because I grew up in a very actively Pro-Life extended family-- I've done the March for Life myself!-- and I thoroughly understand my family members' actual feelings on the matter, and I truly consider myself Pro-Life, even though from a political standpoint I am technically pro-choice.

The sign, read the sign, people!... meaning, mostly, my extended family...! #PROLIFEFORREAL https://t.co/IjEu4zvAg4

— Amy W (@rockinlibrarian) January 22, 2017

I don't think the picture shows up in the quoted tweet, here's the one I was referring to:

An outpouring of people with a lot at stake. #WomensMarch #WomenMobilizeNC pic.twitter.com/8FasRdksR4

— Zeynep Tufekci (@zeynep) January 21, 2017

I've had a real hard time at church since just before the election. Remember I said I hadn't lost my faith in God but was pretty disillusioned with the Church? Our pastor, he's a great guy y'know, but the Sunday before the election he said something like, "Yeah, we have to make a choice, and it looks like we have to make a choice between 'Bad' and 'Worse.' I can't tell you who to vote for, but I will say when you get down to it that the most important thing is protecting the Sanctity of Life, and we have to vote to stop abortion." And I'm just SERIOUSLY HAVE YOU EVEN LOOKED AT THIS GUY, HE IS ANTI-LIFE UNLESS IT'S HIS OWN! The fact that the Pro-Life movement has become SO FOCUSED on overturning Roe vs. Wade that they can no longer see that liberal movements have actually done far far more to REALLY protect the sanctity of life (I can't find the article I read about this last summer that uses facts to support this claim, but here's another article I found while looking for it that at least expresses the idea in more detail) is just... so depressing, really. And if we'd stop being so PARTISAN about it, we could SEE this, and actually WORK TOGETHER to truly protect LIFE. I think the most important thing we need to do is follow Haymitch's advice in Catching Fire, and remember who the real enemies are. I know we find it hard to forgive each other. I know we're angry, we're all so angry. But let's make sure we're focusing the anger in the right place. I saw someone say, "Trump didn't divide America!" -- true, we've already been divided. I've seen others say, "We need to stand together and put faith in the election process and our new administration." Or, the opposite, "We CANNOT play nice anymore. The Nazis weren't defeated because the Allies had a nice discussion and they all shook hands." BUT. A totalitarian government just LOVES when it can pit its citizens against each other. It LOVES to be all "if you're not for us your against us." There are people TRYING to get us to hate each other, pointing at all the worst actions of the "other" side instead of the many many more right actions. WE CANNOT LET THEM DO THIS. Civil war destroys so much. A revolution, on the other hand? If we all, ALL, take a good look around and see who the enemies REALLY are? It's rough when we're still divided over the stories we're getting, but the fact is the majority of people are GOOD PEOPLE. And when we stick together instead of turning on each other, we can beat this. I don't know if this whole quoted tweet will show up, but...

White women need to be the meat shields of this resistance https://t.co/SFyi332Ca1

— Goldeen Ogawa (@GrimbyTweets) January 22, 2017

You see this is the one she was quoting:

You don't think that maybe JUST MAYBE the police treat people differently when large numbers of white women are present?

— Carrie (@PlainJaneFoster) January 22, 2017

That original tweet was a little bitter, about how privileged white women are that they don't have THEIR protests broken up by riot police (when there isn't a riot). But Goldeen takes that and says LET'S USE THIS. You see what we can do when we ALL stand together? We can't let anyone try to divide us any more. We need to speak up even when we aren't the direct victims of an injustice. We need to listen to each other and not just assume that, oh, this is only about THEM, or that, oh, I don't see a problem so obviously there isn't really a problem they're just overreacting. If we open our eyes and hearts and stand together, we can keep the real enemies from their nefarious plans. We can make right mighty, instead of pretending might makes right.

And the fact this was worldwide. It's not just about us. It is about humans and the Earth.

— LibraryElfReads (@LibraryElfReads) January 22, 2017

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