#we are still SUFFERING

[clhampir]

one of my least favorite themes about the internet lately is non-american people complaining that americans are talking about american-centric issues on the internet and being like "nOt EvErYtHiNg ReVoLvEs ArOuNd YoU iDiOtS" and it's like. yeah buddy. that's why we didn't apply it to anywhere else in the world. we're talking about the specific issues we are facing as americans living in the states. the reading comprehension is atrocious

[noknowshame]

why is religious Christmas imagery all so joyful and pleasant? where is the inherent horror of the birth of Christ? A mother is handed her newborn child, wailing and innocent. Her hands come away sticky. Red. Simply by giving her son life she has already killed him. He is doomed from the beginning. Her love will not save him from suffering. Because the thing cradled in her arms is not a baby, it is a sacrifice: born amongst the other bleating animals whose blood will one day be spilled in the name of what demands it. the night is silent with anticipation. Mary, did you know? That your womb was also a grave?

[apollos-olives]

before october 7th this blog was a meme page btw.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[rasairui]

"The bigots up top think we're ALL fucked up! They want us ALL dead!" Hey that's cool dude you're right! Now are you saying this as a genuine expression of solidarity and community, or do you only bring this point up when the acknowledgement of intersectionality makes you uncomfortable? Is it a rallying cry, or a way to shut down people affected by intercommunity bigotry?

[arachnerd-8-legs]

really disappointing that bunjywunjy had to be pestered twice just to quietly remove their reblog after using their huge platform to encourage garbage like raving about the lesbian estonian soviet flag and how 'new pride flag just dropped' so people could go 'ooh pretty' about a flag that was forced onto us by ppl who wanted our culture gone and oppressed us for about a century in total if not more.

to say nothing or not show anything of the truth about that flag and quietly remove the reblog felt more like it was done out of obligation (and you didn't agree) rather than care for the subject matter that is still a fresh wound in our country's memory. it's only been 33 years since it ended.

I'd rather you make the mistake about something you didn't know (eastern european history is easy for westeners to overlook, because we're not a big country like them, we're not england or france or spain or germany) and admit/apologize for said mistake or even just outright state that you don't actually care rather than say nothing and quietly remove something so that people would stop talking about it

[sukei-dot-exe]

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

it is. so weird to me that I'm having to say this again after a real-life cartoon supervillian already once ran for president on a platform of hatred & fascism and won, but.

it's November, please fucking vote

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[femmeconomics]

hate to say it, but part of ending the stigma around sexual assault means not assuming every woman blames herself. yes, female socialization encourages it, but that doesn’t make it a given, and the goal of all of these campaigns is to eventually diminish the proportion of women who do blame themselves. it is entirely possible, and increasingly common, for women to experience sexual assault and not feel shame or guilt, which we should be happy about. but instead, there are only so many times you can hear “you know it’s not your fault, right?” before it sounds like “it was your fault”. and there’s only so many times you can hear “don’t blame yourself” before it sounds like “you should blame yourself”. because it feels good to say, doesn’t it? sure, you don’t believe she’s guilty, but you do believe she should feel guilty, so that you can disabuse her of the notion. just something to consider.

[theriverbeyond]

Nona the Ninth is such an experience to (re)read because you spend just over 200 pages -- a full 40% of the book!! -- being deeply confused, thrust headfirst into a brand new world. there are familiar people, but none of them are people we've spent much time with Before, so even that familiarity is limited. and then not only is everything around you SO different, the narrator just doesn't care about anything that happened Before. Nona zones out during important conversations or is physically pushed away from having the type of information that could orient the reader, so for like 200 pages you have been aclimated to this very slow, drip-feed of information.

and then you get The Broadcast, which feels like a cold bucket of clarity, or like if you were inside a bucket (perhaps initially resistant but now growing quite comfortable with your predicament) and then suddenly dumped out of that bucket into a freezing lake. in 5 pages we get more direct information than we've been given thus far but it's so fast and so much and for half of it Nona's comprehension is hampered because it's just audio, no faces, that the reader goes from being parched to drowning. the slow drip turns into a fire hose.

Ianthe is here and, inexplicably (though of course later explained), a brunette. Gideon's body is here, and extremely dead. the girl Nona has been dreaming about is Gideon. Ianthe's biting commentary is both comfortingly familar as well as deeply disquieting; the enemies of the Empire's forever war no longer being mysterious, unnamed forces but Nona's friends and the city she loves so much.

and then the book just. does not let up from there. the firehose continues for 300 more pages. you've been lulled into complacancy by 200 pages of Nona's School Days Adventure, but Situations have come to call. this is still the Locked Tomb Series, and your respite is over.

[jeeaark]

Shirtless Disaster Pt. 1

So. pretty sure the emperor cusses. just. never had the reason to say out loud. or has a filter on when they talk. Until Greygold happened. You ever try and look with the emperor's perspective when Tav makes decisions and go, 'H-how are you not ceaselessly cussing like a sailor at Tav?'

ANYWAY- HERE'S THE THING. TRULY. Always had my squinty-eyed caution on Emps. Trying to ascertain if they were for real with their words/actions/intentions or not. but. Squid buddy sharing their feelings of caring was the uh snowball that started this avalanche. Can't fake feelings huah, GREYGOLD FINALLY FOUND THOSE MUSHY BITS HUAH.

I ain't gonna let y'all wonder what Greygold's answer was, so uh. Bonus!

[denimchicken]

my room is disgustingly hot, i feel like imma boil to death

[hypewinter]

Early Accident AU

So Danny becomes Phantom at like age 8 or something right. And everything goes just about similar to canon, including TUE. The only difference is that instead of the meeting being called because Danny cheated on a career aptitude test, it's now because his teacher is just worried about him and is staging a sorta intervention thing.

So anyway, Danny cannot stop the Nasty Burger explosion and ends up going to live with Vlad. Which isn't going well. He's constantly crying and feeling guilty for not stopping the incident. There's also the constant fear that he'll become Dan. Vlad is doing nothing to address any of this. Instead he's showing off his godson to anyone and everyone and bragging about how smart he is. In fact, that's exactly what he does when he gets invited to a Wayne Gala.

The bats take one look at this kid, who's eyes are still red from crying, being dragged around by his guardian and alarm bells immediately start ringing. Especially for Tim who experienced what it was like being dragged around to special events even when he was incredibly ill.

The bats get even more concerned when Vlad pulls his charge into a corner to scold him for looking miserable instead of comforting him. He's telling the kid stuff like only babies are allowed to get away with crying and that if he continues making the man look bad, he'll be punished when they get home.

Danny does his best to suck it up. He tries to push down all the swirling emotions surrounding his powers, the death of all his loved ones, and even the unprocessed trauma of his own death. He ends up going to the bathroom to try to splash some water in his face and calm down.

As he's making his way back to Vlad, he is intercepted by Tim. When this kind stranger sincerely asks him if he's ok, he breaks down. This is the first person to genuinely ask him how he's doing since he's family's death outside of people doing it for the sake of pleasantries.

Now the boy is absolutely ugly crying in front of this whole party of people and Vlad is not pleased to say the least. He tries to snatch Danny up and whisk him away but the bats intervene. Bruce says something about knowing how to console children as Dick ushers Danny into a separate room where Alfred is already waiting with some hot chocolate.

After a while Danny starts to calm down and he goes to wipe his eyes. As he's doing this, his sleeve slips down a little, revealing an arm covered in bandaids. To explain, it hasn't been that long since Danny came to live with Vlad. Couple that with his healing factor being slower due to his emotional state and he has a couple of small wounds still remaining from his fights that have yet to heal.

Of course the bats don't know where those wounds are from. All they know is that there's no way in hell Danny is leaving this manor with Vlad.

[katabay]

my knight-monk agenda strikes again, but this was less of a 'I read something that made me experience several emotions and a strike of inspiration at once,' and more of a 'wouldn't it be fucked up if the bejeweled skeleton saints came to life and and started. eating people. or something. in revenge. medieval catholic horror, or an older horror of not being buried right. zombies, even. a complete bastardization of holy visuals. zombies.'

it's a far away idea, but I still wanted to play around with font layouts. like, if I DID make it into a full comic: these would be visual vibes, perhaps.

it's also a little bit about the kind of intimacy that these kinds of spaces provide, or in the case of this monk: the heavy trauma of war and the death of your brother, the escape to a secluded monastery, spiritual brotherhood to make up for your dead brother, but your role as a physician keeps pulling you back to this violence you want to escape. physician, heal thyself, only you have a holy calling to serve those in need, so instead: physician, open up your wounds again. saint jude, patron saint of lost causes, give us a fucking hand here, man. amen.

Homosexuality in the Renaissance: Behavior, Identity, and Artistic Expression, James M. Saslow

and this one is about earlier history than the medieval period that this comic is set in, but the monk character is sort of an exploration of earlier themes. a little bit. I like overlapping eras with each other, I've done it before and I'll do it again. this character is an exploration of some other stuff too, but mostly this book was interesting to read

From Monastery to Hospital: Christian Monasticism and the Transformation of Health Care in Late Antiquity, Andrew T Crislip

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost

[amaranthdahlia]

i leave him to you. | i got it ... my hero.