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destielshippingnews · 3 years

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Edvard's Supernatural Rewatch & Review: 1x04 Phantom Traveler

In this week’s analysis, I’ll be discussing the unfortunate introduction of Abrahamic mythology, the lamentable gender politics of Dean in his nightwear, and magic languages.

Supernatural’s fourth offering, 1x04 Phantom Traveler, (not a misspelling, 'traveller' is spelt like that in America) is a solid episode. It’s not fantastic, and Supernatural certainly has better to offer, but it’s still an entertaining watch which introduces demons into the Supernatural universe and continues developing Dean and Sam’s characters, making them more distinct.

It is also the first episode Robert Singer directed for Supernatural. I didn’t see much to particularly comment on in the direction for this episode (my two years of Media Studies were not wasted on me at all), but one interesting choice, however, is the tracking shot of Dean’s sleeping form straight after the title card. EscapingPurgatory podcast had a shrewd postulation: the intended audience was heterosexual educated men between the ages of roughly 15 and 39, but a lot of them would be watching with their girlfriends and wives etc, and Dean is the brother who’s available at the moment.

Returning to the plot of the show, the script does itself a major disservice as early as the cold open. This episode was broadcast in America four years after 9/11 (almost four and a half in Britain) and was right in the middle of the decades-long and still ongoing war on drugs. The atmosphere surrounding airfare has changed fundamentally. The air hostess clearly saw the man’s black eyes and was affected by it, and should have alerted somebody on the plane to her worries, because she would have thought he was on drugs of some variety at the very least, and possibly smuggling drugs on the plane. However, for the purposes of the plot she does not act on her misgivings, but simply gasps and goes about her day.

This raises the question of why the demon revealed its presence like that. Demons are usually incredibly stupid on Supernatural, but this level of dumb is difficult for me to believe. The air hostess could have very easily had the man thrown off the aeroplane, and then its plan would be scuppered. The most likely reason was to show the audience that the man was possessed, but the audience was going to find that out in about a minute’s time anyway, so why reveal it there? It breaks the fourth wall in a bad way.

Whilst on the aeroplane and the demon’s plan, the episode never makes the demon’s motivations explicit. Sure, Sam claims that demons like death and destruction for their own sake, but this doesn’t fit well with how demons behave later in the show. They are, forsooth, as thick as poo, but they usually have higher ups telling them what to do. Was the demon’s repeated downing of aeroplanes part of a higher up’s plan?

Before I go on, it’s worthwhile mentioning that this episode is the first one to introduce the idea of an actual Abrahamic Hell in the Supernatural universe. It’s not the only genre show of its kind to have included something like this, with Charmed having the Underworld where the Source of All Evil resided, and Buffy having various Hell dimensions, but those two examples weren’t Hell as depicted in the Bible.

Joss Whedon specifically avoided the idea of a Hell and employed dimensions ruled by demons and demon gods rather than Archangel Lucifer. Charmed used the Underworld as an equivalent of Hell, but it was not a place of punishment for human souls. While Charmed is definitely my least favourite fantasy/horror/sci-fi genre show (Prue notwithstanding), I appreciated that it took a step away from Abrahamic mythology. Buffy/Angel were even better, having their own mythology that had precious little to do with Middle Eastern religions and more to do with Dunsany, Lovecraft or sometimes even Tolkien.

Kripke, however, took the lazy route with Abrahamic, specifically Christian, mythology, a choice which I believe was to the show’s detriment. It’s supposed to be a show about American folklore and urban legends, but that stuff eventually gets thrown under the bus. Forget Native Americans, screw the Americanised versions of Scandiwegian lore, screw the Old West and the Gold Rush and all the tales revolving around America’s history. And Canada? Pfft. What even is Canada? And don’t even think about Mexico. Let’s just have yet more desert myths from 2-3000 years ago.

My distaste aside, this universe has a Hell (and a Heaven), and demons are made by torturing humans until all humanity is gone from them, or by letting the humans off the torture rack if they agree to become the torturers.

Knowing this, two possibilities come to mind. One is that this demon is repeating its own human death for some reason, and another is that it kills people and drags their souls to Hell to make more demons.

Repeating its own death is entirely speculative, but this episode mixes up demons with traits later associated with ghosts and death echoes. Never again is an EMF reader used to detect demonic activity, and unless I’ve forgotten a certain example, demons aren’t shown to act as specifically as this again.

The second option, that of dragging souls to Hell, doesn’t seem likely as it’s made clear that demon deals or trades are required in order for Hell to get its claws on human souls, at least in usual circumstances. There’s nothing saying that demons can’t just decide to drag certain souls to Hell, and there is an implication at the end of this episode that this might actually be the case, but it’s a stretch. If this were the case, however, it would give the demon a real motive and make the episode less of a stand-alone bit of fun with overt X-Files vibes.

Sticking with Hell events on the aeroplane for now, let’s skip to the end and the exorcism. Whilst trying to exorcise the demon, it tells Sam that Jessica is burning in Hell. Dean tries to reassure Sam by saying that demons read minds and that it was trying to get to him, but demons can only know the minds of people they possess. This then leaves three options: the demon was lying and Jess is in Heaven, it was telling the truth and Jess is in Hell, or the demon was just trying to get to Sam, but unbeknownst to him Jess actually was in Hell.

Technically speaking, Jess shouldn’t be in Hell. She didn’t make a deal (that we know of) and it’s established later in the show that most people go to Heaven anyway. But Kevin didn’t, neither did Eileen or Bobby. Mary did, even though she made a deal with Azazel, and she died under the same circumstances as Jess. As Jess is never mentioned as being in Hell by another demon in the show, and as Dean, Sam and Cas eventually visit Hell and find nothing of her there, we can assume Jessica went to Heaven.

The exorcism in this episode is strange compared to exorcisms in the rest of the show. The Doyle (external to the text) explanation is clearly that the writers didn’t know exactly how they wanted things to work yet, but the Watson (within the text) explanation could be that they used a different exorcism ritual. Later in the show, there is no intermediate stage between being expelled from the host body and being banished to Hell: they just go directly down. This version, though, forces the demon to manifest and thereby makes it much stronger and more dangerous. I personally think the version in this episode makes the demons more of a threat because it’s harder to exorcise them, but I can see why it became streamlined later in the show.

The fact the demon possessed the aeroplane, however, raises the question of why it didn’t do so in the first place. Maybe it’s more fun to possess a human first.

Speaking of the ritual, Jared tells us on the commentary that he had to have a Latin teacher from a local university instruct him in Ecclesiastical Latin because he learnt Classical Latin at school. As a language person, I’m left wondering why. It’s the same language, just pronounced differently. Does the spell need to be pronounced in a certain way in order to work? If so, would the Ancient Romans have been completely incapable of expelling demons with their own language? Would they have had to rely on Greek, Etruscan, Gaulish or Sumerian for the rituals? It’s just completely unnecessary, especially as we later see Rowena casting spells in Scottish Gaelic, Irish witches casting spells in Irish, Celtic ‛demons’ performing rituals in Gaulish…

At least the university teacher got a little bit of extra money, I suppose.

Sticking with the aeroplane a little bit longer, Dean’s fear of flying is a welcome expansion to his character, though it was clearly included with the intent of making fun of him. It could easily have been played as such, but Jensen’s comments on the commentary indicate he saw it as an opportunity to provide more depth to Dean, as his connection with Lucas through their shared childhood trauma did in 1x03 Dead in the Water. In these two episodes, Jensen begins taking Dean away from the writers and making him his own: he was supposed to be the sidekick, but Jensen said nope.

In making Dean afraid of flying, but having him so insistent upon flying in spite of it, The Show perhaps did itself a bit of a disservice in its mission of making Sam The Hero and Dean The Sidekick. Dean was terrified, but flew anyway. That is bravery, and it’s what the audience wants to see in a hero.

Sam, however, does not miss an opportunity to make me dislike him (you knew this was coming at some point, don’t look surprised). Not only is he incredibly unappreciative and derisive of Dean’s talents, such as making his own EMF from an old Walkman, but he was also derisive of Dean’s fear of flying.

Sorry, let me reword that. Derisive of Dean for being scared of flying. It’s perfectly rational to be afraid of being in a giant metal bird suspended miles above the ground, but Dean agreed to it anyway in order to save people. And Sam treats him like a child because he’s scared of take-off and turbulence. Dean’s fear is a rational one, something that a person who hasn’t been sheltered from reality would have. Sam’s greatest fear, however, is…

Clowns.

I get it, they’re brothers, and siblings are supposed to rib on each other like this (the siblings I still talk to aren’t like this with me or each other, so I find it difficult to relate to Dean and Sam’s relationship) but it makes Sam come across as an utter cunny-hole. If somebody is clearly terrified of something and on the edge of a panic attack, you don’t sneer and mock, and then demand he calm down. Sure, Dean needed to calm down and Sam was the only one who could do it, but talking to him like a child just reveals how little Sam knows of taking care of other people. He’s the pampered younger brother, and it really shows.

He also shows a lack of judgement when roughly putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder while he was distracted. Dean’s essentially a war child (and suffers C-PTSD) and you just shouldn’t do things like this to somebody like that. That’s how you trigger panic attacks or flashbacks. Ask a veteran, I’m sure s/he’ll agree.

Aside from that, the middle-aged man on the aeroplane winked at Dean – winked – when Dean was walking down the aisle with his EMF reader. A man winking at a man has sexual overtones nowadays, and has done for a long time. How many men wink at a built guy standing over them like that unless they’re sure they won’t be punched in the face? Dean had his EMF reader out at that moment, but he was simultaneously on somebody else’s radar. Something about Dean set sexual bells ringing in cameo middle-aged man’s head. Regarding Sam, there’s two important moments for him in this episode (Jess aside): when he discovers John talked about and praised him in his absence, and when he exorcises the demon. It’s made clear in a few episodes’ time that Sam never felt like he fit in with his family, and that he believed John was disappointed in him. Exactly how he came to this conclusion is uncertain, since John doted on Sam and afforded him liberties he never would have allowed Dean, but it’s clear their relationship is difficult. Going away to university was Sam’s attempt to run away from the dysfunctional family he felt an outsider in and to escape John (and Dean): that he apparently didn’t speak to either John or Dean during his time there says a lot.

He finds out, however, that John praised him, undermining somewhat Sam’s belief that John regarded him as a disappointment. Episode 1x05 Bloody Mary provides another moment of character growth for Sam that subtly changes the way he perceives himself, but all in due course.

Praise from parents is important for children, and it really shouldn’t be hard for parents to tell their children they’re proud of them, even if they don’t say it in as many words. In spite of his difficult relationship with John, Sam gets that by proxy in this episode (whilst Dean’s happily checking out all the men in the hangar) and it changes the way he sees himself and John, even if only slightly.

The other moment – discussed above – is his exorcism of the demon. I don’t mince my words about disliking Sam, but even I can see he had potential. He’s the weird kid who wanted a normal life, but because of cursed blood had that hope denied him. Series 4 shows us the beginning of what Sam could have turned into when his blood magic arc truly kicks off, and it could have been a riveting plotline if written and handled well. Think for example of Willow in Buffy and the journey she went on with her magic powers: there was real darkness in there, and a gargantuan struggle to overcome it and become stronger.

This exorcism reminds me of Willow’s first steps at witchcraft in 2x22 when she casts the spell to restore a certain character’s soul and we see the potential for true strength as she performs the spell with ease. This exorcism of Sam’s should have been something similar, and his demonic powers should not have been completely removed and forgotten about in 8x23. He could have been Supernatural’s answer to Willow, and the Dark!Sam arc in series 3-7 could have been the first in his descent into darkness and his fight back out to take control of his own powers and become the opposite of what Azazel wanted him to be.

But – and not for the last time – three words come to mind. Such potential, Supernatural.

You might remember I mentioned the tracking shot of Dean (and neglected to mention the revealing shot of his thighs and underwear). Paula R. Stiles’ suggestion that the fact the writers and director for this episode were men doesn’t cheapen it is one I don’t understand. Jensen is in my 100% objective and unbiased opinion one of the finest men alive, but exploiting that in order to draw in an audience does cheapen the show.

To be fair, Supernatural is hardly high culture and commercial television is about revenue, but things like that break the illusion of artistic integrity, just like not making Dean explicitly bisexual does because that’d scare away too much of the audience. If having scantily-clad women in a show or film is there for the male gaze and drawing in money, then so too are Dean’s thighs and buttocks, similarly cheapening the show. If the male gaze objectifies women, stripping them of their power and subjecting them to male desires, then the female gaze objectifies and strips men of any power they might have and subjects them to female desires.

If it’s bad for the gander, it should also be bad for the goose.

Neither do I think it matters one bit that the writer and director are men, or am I supposed to believe a woman has never encouraged or coerced another woman to flash a bit of boob in order to get men to empty their pockets? Claiming that presenting a person as an object of possible sexual attraction turns him into an ‛object’ is strange, and that claim’s only ever made when women are being presented for men’s enjoyment.

But let’s stick to Supernatural because I have work in the morning. To be honest, I never notice if a woman on screen is being subjected to a ‛male’ gaze because I have no sexual or romantic interest in women whatsoever: if a woman is supposed to be portrayed as appealing to men’s eyes, it’ll usually go straight over my head because it just doesn’t register as having anything to do with sex. Interesting, however, is that this begins the trend of treating Dean in certain ways that women are usually treated, or associating him with ‛feminine’ traits.

Some people go overboard with for example Dean’s association with and likeness to Mary, his taking on the parental (maternal?) role in Sam’s upbringing, his knack with children etc, and use it as evidence to suggest that any traditionally masculine behaviour – or masculine behaviour at all – from Dean is a performance to keep up an act so that he can hide how feminine he really is.

My take on this is quite different than the condescending viewpoint that a man behaving like a man is performing and pretending. Dean’s ‛feminine’ traits are not his ‛true’ self in opposition to his feigned masculine behaviour. There is absolutely no contradiction between Dean exhibiting ‛feminine’ traits such as being good with children, cooking, or trying his hardest to fill the role Mary would have filled, and being a masculine man who identifies very strongly with being male.

I do think it’s fascinating, though, and the complexity and depth of Dean as a male character is one of the reasons he is one of my favourite characters. We rarely get to see men who are very manly and also incredibly loving, loyal and paternal and who exhibit a normal range of human behaviours and interests, including ‛masculine’ and ‛feminine’. That’s what normal men are like, something television and film seem to have forgotten.

Regarding Dean in bed, note that he is a stomach sleeper (sleeping on your stomach keeps your tummy safe), and this is consistent throughout all fifteen years of the show. However, this early in the show he takes his trousers, outer shirts and shoes off, in contrast to sleeping fully dressed as he begins doing sometime rather soon. He’s alert and cautious this early in the show, but not yet quite so worn down that he can’t be bothered to get ready for bed.

Note also that both brothers have sleeping problems here. Dean knew Sam was still up at 3am, meaning Dean likely slept for less than three hours, having been woken up by Sam at 5:45.

The end of the episode presents the brothers with something to be hopeful about. John has a new mobile phone number, the first evidence they’ve had so far that he is very probably still alive. It’s not much to go on, and John does not answer Dean and Sam’s call, but it’s something the boys can latch on to and keep them searching for John. Whether or not they should be searching for John is another question altogether, though, but at least it got the plot going in 1x01.,

Phantom Traveler is a strong but flawed episode which builds on last week’s expansion of Dean’s character and role, as well as introducing demons and Hell into the lore. The cut scene where Dean has to remove all his concealed weapons before going into the airport really should have been kept in because it says a lot about his character, as does his sleeping with a blade under his pillow, but other than that, I’m happy to leave this episode now on a positive note.

#Michael's Supernatural Rewatch #SPN Rewatch #spn 1x04 #phantom traveler #sam winchester #john winchester #dean winchester #demons #hell #male gaze #female gaze #christian mythology

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void-knights · 3 years

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Hygge : Chapter One

Pairing: Loki / Original Character,

Chapter Rating: Teen

Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, LGBT Themes, Oc has ADHD, injury mention, Standard Tragic past, Mentions of Loki's past toture, Mentions of past child abuse (OC), Sickness, Near Death, Body Dysphoria, Gender Dysphoria, Prosthesis, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Extremis 616, Starboost Armour, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Loki cooks, Loki teaches,

A/N: Right hello! I need to WARN YOU.

This fiction deals with an OFC that eventually realises that they is Genderfluid, using all the pronouns, but is assigned female at birth (AFAB). There will be mentions of body AND gender dysphoria due to a tragic childhood™ under the care of her biological mother/grandparents that occurred before she was in the care of Tony Stark. I do not go into graphic detail with the abuse, but it is mentioned.

This is a slow burn fic planned out to be a LONG story so the OC and Loki will not get together until a little into the story. Instead, I wanted to focus on building their friendship at first. Eventually (if all goes to plan) I intend to have the OC identify as Genderfluid, but unlike Loki the OC won't have magic and therefore will always be female in terms of physical sex.

While this might seem like a bit of a spoiler I like to forewarn people about these things as they can be potential triggers!

Anyway I got the idea of a character in Iron-Man style armour, and then I thought it would be fun to just have a Stark OC. I've got the timeline lined up so the ages to allign with canon. Masterlist | AO3 Link |

The avengers weren’t sure what they should do with Loki, Odin in his infinite wisdom had ‘bestowed’ his younger son upon them in a long-winded speech that left Barton spacing out, Tony disinterested and distracted and Bruce trying to work out how such an old man seemed so strong.

Only Natasha and Steve were paying attention by the end, the TL; DR was that Odin didn’t want to deal with Loki, so now he was the avenger's problem.

Nick Fury suggested locking him up, only to retract the idea a few minutes later, Loki was dammed persuasive, he could seduce any guard sent to keep him under lock and key. They did not know the full extent of his magical abilities and while he was bound (somehow, Odin didn’t bother explaining what they had done to Loki and merely assumed the Avengers wouldn’t care to know the finer points) they didn’t know the limits of the binding.

Thor claimed his brother could shapeshift, so a prison would need to be airtight otherwise a snake or spider could happily slip out. Then there was the issue that he was a god with god strength and probably the second smartest person in the room, or maybe the smartest, but Tony wasn’t about to admit that to the god.

All in all Odin had left them with a mess and the only support came in the form of a confused, angry and betrayed Thor. Which was never good.

This was compounded by the inescapable feeling that they only had half the story, why did Loki invade Earth? Tony had theories, theories that would make Clint punch him, but he couldn’t shake a feeling that something was off about the god of mischief.

Thor would agree, or not. Their relationship was never explained, it turned out communication was not a gift the gods of Asgard possessed much to the chagrin of the Avengers.

So this was the plan, Loki was to stay locked up in the tower, well only on certain floors. He would share a floor with Thor, where he would have his own bedroom with en-suite bathroom, but Fury was rather insistent that Loki shouldn’t be made too comfortable.

Tony was starting to wish he had never gotten involved he would make a poor jailer. He wasn’t responsible enough, Jarvis as amazing as he was would be worse, Loki had tricks, he could trick Jarvis.

It was a fucking mess, made much worse by not having the facts nor support to keep Loki. What were they supposed to do with the god? He was going to outlive them all, did Odin expect them to pass Loki off to other people? To keep him locked away for the rest of his life?

He would rather face the Chitauri again, or Vanko and Hammer or even Stane. Loki was more dangerous than all of them combined and what made it worse was the fact that Soleil was also living in the tower now.

He shouldn’t have suggested she live here, Fuck, he needed a drink or a whole bottle. The billionaire found Natasha and Bruce already at the bar, her with Vodka and Bruce with something fruity looking.

Tony settled for whisky and wondered what the fuck he was supposed to do now.

Loki was still chained up when Soleil walked onto the floor, the god recognised the human mortal from his research leading up to the invasion. He had gathered information on mortals who may pose a threat to his plans and worked to see them brought together (in brief moments of clarity before once again the mind stone seized control of him), Stark’s life was short as it was (by Asgardian standards) was quite fascinating.

Naturally Loki looked into every aspect of the potential avengers lives seeking weaknesses that would bring the avengers to him. The easiest targets were family, friends, loved ones who could be exploited as they had few or no protections. Soleil quite literally was the weakest link in the Stark equation.

Though he had come to realise she could have been a great asset to him should he have had need of an engineer with a deep and vested interest in space. Rather odd that SHIELD would have such detailed files on Soleil, almost as if they had been considering her as an alternative to her father and Iron-Man. Though what use such a fragile human would be was beyond the god.

She hadn’t noticed him, to busy tapping away on a screen and wrinkling her brow at something that vexed her. He watched her as she grabbed herself a bottle of water, she was halfway back to the elevator when she finally paused and turned to him.

“You look like shit,” she said after a moments pause looking him up and down as he remained trapped and bound.

He’d be offended if he had the energy, he felt like shit, months, years? Trapped in the clutches of Thanos and his black order, leading the invasion, not resting or sleeping in weeks, months, his meals just enough to keep him alive but never satisfied, he could not even recall if the paste he had been given (and reluctantly eaten after too long starving) had even had a taste to it.

“As you mortals say, that is pot calling the kettle black,” he attempted to sound above her, casual to the point of nonchalance.

“Yeah but I have an excuse for looking like shit, what’s your excuse?” she asked him sipping her water, he tried not to look hopeful that she might share something with him. Even lukewarm tap water would be bliss compared to whatever liquids the Black Order had supplied him with.

“The beast you call Hulk,” Which was partly true.

“Ooo, that explains the hole in the floor,” she cringed, “How the fuck are you still in one piece?”

“I am a god,” he reminded her.

“I had just assumed that was all a lie, you know psychological tactics?” She paused thinking it over, “Make us believe the gods are real, and you’re one of them, so you can claim dominion over us.”

“That would be a fair assumption to make,” he said leaning his forearms on his knees, “But I can assure you that I am in fact one of your gods.”

“Well you’re not my god, I don’t worship you or any gods,” she shrugged.

“We had noticed the loss of faith from mortals,” Loki nodded.

“Blame the Abrahamic religions, as soon as they went mainstream you pagan lot were more or less kicked to the curb,” she answered, before he could ask what she meant she asked, “So are you hungry? You look like you’re hungry.”

“I am in no risk of starving Stark,” he insisted.

“How’d you know I was a Stark?” she asked him suspicion finally creeping in, for someone who was supposed to be one of Midgard’s greatest minds she was rather stupid.

“SHIELD have files on you,” he said her lack of surprise told him all he needed to know, “That and you resemble your father.”

She brought a gloved hand to her jaw, “It’s the chin isn’t it?” she asked taking a couple of steps towards him, a glass and metal table separated them as she set her glass bottle down upon his surface.

“The general area yes, and you share his eyes,” he confirmed now that he could see her up close he could see the partial heterochromia, showing chocolate-brown flecks in each soft brown eye. She shared his jaw, lip and chin shape and brow colour, her hair was tucked up inside a hat, and he thought that her ears might resemble her father as well.

“But that doesn’t answer my question, never mind I’ll assume you’re hungry, what do gods eat?” she asked.

“You would feed your enemy?” he asked surprised by this, Asgard had a policy of giving their prisoners food, but basic food, food that would keep their enemies alive and nothing more. He was able to empathise with those trapped forever in those dungeons now.

“Yes because I have basic human decency,” she said shifting her weight mostly onto her left leg, “So food, what do you eat? Can you eat earth food being an alien and all that?”

“Of course I can,” now that she had brought the matter up he wondered if he could, there were some things that an Asgardian was told to avoid eating on Vanaheim and Alfheim, not that he was biologically Asgardian.

“Well if you die of an allergic reaction please don’t haunt me,” she said pulling out another device, a phone, a smartphone he recalled one of the scientists under his command using a similar device.

While she typed out whatever it was she needed Loki observed her. She was atypical in her physical body, her clothes hung from her, not because they were ill-fitting but because of sudden loss of weight. They were designed for a woman larger than what she was now, despite her rather cheerful demeanour she looked quite exhausted. She looked how he felt.

The leather right sleeve to her jacket shifted in a most bizarre manner, he watched as a small(ish) serpent poked its head out resting contently on the back of her hand. It flicked it’s slick tongue out at the air scenting Loki, she could taste him, she knew he was there.

“I think it’s safe to just get a range of food,” She said slipping her phone back into her pocket she rose her fist to her eye level, “You doin’ okay?” she asked the snake who slid back into the sleeve. “She’s shy,” she said to Loki who had not asked.

“You carry a snake on your person?” he asked curios, he could not imagine anyone in Asgard doing that. Snakes were dangerous creatures, not pets. Humans however seemed to ignore that rule quite often.

“Yeah she’s my ESA, but I make sure she’s some place warm, otherwise she’ll get ill,” Soleil explained.

“ESA?” he asked.

“Emotional support animal,” Soleil said which did not really answer Loki’s question, she needed the support of an animal for her emotional state? “They are animals to help calm and relax people. I wanted a cat, but dad says a dog would have required to much training and looking after, so he got me Macbeth.”

“How does a snake provide emotional support?” he had to ask, the concept baffled him.

“She’s a reassuring presence when the world is overwhelming,” Soleil answered.

To the god it was still a strange concept, but his curiosity got the better of him, “May I see her then?” he asked.

“Um, sure?” Soleil gently shook her arm, Macbeth got the message, as loathed as she was to leave the warmth of the jacket she was all too happy to slither her way around Soleil’s shoulders until she was hanging lazily.

Gently lifting the snake off her shoulders she set the snake down on the sofa, wise to keep a distance from the god of mischief who remained shackled and bound. Macbeth lifted herself up fascinated by this new thing, this god in her home, she stared at Loki curious to know why he was here.

⸢You are not human⸥ said the snake curios to know what he was, he smelled familiar, like kin yet was clearly more than that, more human, more than human.

⸢No I am not⸥ he answered utterly amused when the snake did a double take, stunned that the god would be capable of speaking her language. He detected the barest hint of offence on her next words.

⸢Then you are a lie, a false thing, I do not like false things⸥ the snake replied studying him closely, ⸢You are a danger to my human⸥

⸢I am a great danger to many a human, yours however has done nothing to earn my anger⸥ Loki replied, the smart little snake thought on this for a while.

⸢You claim that now. But my human has a way of frustrating the surrounding humans, they are so easily brought to anger⸥ came the serpent's response as she finally slithered her way over to him.

⸢There are many creatures brought to anger easily⸥ Loki responded lifting the snake up into the air to prove his point the snake hissed angrily.

⸢Unhand me liar, I shall not be handled by the likes of you!⸥ the snake protested with a rather loud hiss.

Up close, she was a rather pretty thing a mixture of soft pastel colours with the blackest eyes he had seen on a snake. A thick uneven stripe of orange and lavender ran the length of her spine and top of her head. Her belly was an off-white, her most dominate colour a rather fetching shade of yellow. She was indeed a strange patterned creature but lovely to look at.

⸢But you are so pretty, I think I may keep you⸥ he teased the snake who managed to throw him such a filthy look that it took him by surprise.

⸢You, are unworthy of me liar⸥ she snapped back.

⸢I am a good little serpent, far beyond your mortal caregiver⸥ he pointed out.

⸢Indeed? You must be the god of pomposity to say such things⸥ the snake complained turning her head away from Loki, ⸢My human is good and kind even as the sickness weakness her, you cannot compare to such a charitable and loving being⸥

⸢For something so small you certainly have a rather inflated sense of ego⸥ he said lifting her up to eye level, she turned her head away from him.

⸢Says the creature that wreaks of despair, I might be small, god of pomposity but at least I know happiness⸥ he’d never been tempted to toss a snake out of a window before tonight.

Soleil shifted on her feet confused, “Are you talking to her?”

“Of course, I am a god,” he answered petting the snake who recoiled deeply offended by his touch.

⸢How dare you touch me!!⸥ she hissed in discontent before slipping herself free from Loki’s hands and slithering back to Soleil who collected her up into her arms. ⸢You are unworthy pomposity, be gone!⸥

“That is a rather charming pet you have mortal,” Loki answered deigning to ignore the snake and her uppity attitude, “Though she might be pretty she has a rather terrible attitude.”

Soleil looked at Macbeth who looked at her, “Riiight she has the terrible attitude,” smugly the snake turned back to him beaming brightly.

⸢See my mortal understands, she shall not be easily swayed by a false serpent⸥ the snake happily slithered her way back up Soleil's sleeve.

“I have never before laid my eyes on a serpent with such markings and colours, is that typical of Midgardian serpents?” Loki asked leaning back on the sofa which had become uncomfortable thanks to being pinned down in one fixed spot.

“Uh, well ball pythons are kinda common I suppose, they are docile in nature,” Loki did not believe that for a second, “So they’ve been bred as pets for a while, some breeders try to create unique colour and pattern styles. Morphs. Macbeth is a Banana Cinnamon Blade Clown Ball Python for instance.”

Loki knew what each of those words meant individually but strung together like that they may as well have been pure nonsense.

His disbelief or confusion must have been evident on his face because she instantly launched into the details of snake breeding, how morphs came about, what each word meant and the genetic factors that went into selecting the right snakes to breed together to create the perfect offspring.

Trust humans to meddle in things that needed no intervention, he thought as she went into detail to explain a subject he had long since lost any interest in. She was passionate about her pet, about snakes in general, and so she babbled making her obsession quite evident.

It was no wonder her dammed pet was so smug, she probably praised it at every opportunity, it’s inflated sense of self coming from an overindulgence of love and flattery.

“Bee,” Jarvis cut her off saving Loki the indignity of having to amuse her babbling for longer, “The food has been placed in the elevator, do you require assistance in moving it?”

“I’m not that weak, Jarv,” she grumbled half stomping her way across the floor towards the elevator. Loki could feel the AI’s eye roll somehow.

It took her some time to set out the food given the ridiculous quantity that she had purchased. He did not recognise half of what was laid out but to Loki none of that mattered, all he could do was feel his mouth water at the prospect of finally having food that did not taste of grit and nothing.

“So we got Korean, Indian, Italian, Greek, American, Japanese, Ethiopian, Thai, Arabic, Mexican, Balkan, Caribbean, Chinese and Jamaican,”

“Bee,” Jarvis said.

“Yeah I over ordered,” she grumbled slipping her phone back into her pocket, but she hadn’t known what a god might like to eat.

It didn’t seem to matter, Loki was already tucking into a container of whatever was nearest to him.

He almost wept in pure bliss as he devoured the Tokushima ramen without haste, even the strangeness of a raw egg in a soup alongside pork belly and noodles (which he had never had in life) did not slow him down. The god did not slow down even as Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and Thor walked onto the floor slightly confused.

Jarvis had alerted them there would be food and that Soleil was apparently friendly with Loki. Jarvis had been somewhat right, Soleil was keeping a great distance between herself and the god, but she had ordered him a lot of food. Enough food to feed an army in fact.

“I don’t know what gods eat,” she immediately said as defence before her dad could ask, she did the same thing whenever he caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. “So I got whatever, if he dies of an allergic reaction you’re not allowed to blame me.”

“You’d be doing us a favour Bee,” her dad joked, she grinned a little unsure while Loki finally slowed down. That was good, just watching him devour container after container was giving her indigestion.

“We do not suffer the aliments of mortals little Stark-”

“Little stark?” Soleil whispered at Steve and Tony both of them grinned sympathetically.

“-This is quite the feast,” Thor beamed at her and all of a sudden she could see what Jane Foster might see in the glorious blonde bastard, though if she had to go for a blonde she’d still choose Captain America.

The avengers and Soleil watched as Thor easily sat himself down beside Loki acting as though nothing was wrong, even Loki was a little on edge about that, Steve and Tony shared a look™ one that suggested they were in on something. Something Soleil was not allowed to be part of.

Thor without hesitation (must be a god thing) dug into the food complimenting Soleil as though she had laboured over the meals, she hadn’t.

“What is this?” Thor asked as the others finally settled, Tony made sure Soleil was one super solider and a father apart from the god of mischief.

“Curried goat,” Soleil answered taking the carton of Tom Kha soup for herself.

The look of betrayal startled her as he was torn between heaving his stomach into the nearest container or eating what was a delicious meal. Loki being the sympathetic brother he was grinned from ear to ear watching Thor have an internal meltdown.

They did not eat goats on Asgard due to Thor’s love of them, they were scared in some strange way. Loki suspected interest in eating them was already so minimal that Odin had no issue outlawing their slaughter and consumption.

“Are you okay Thor?” Steve had to ask as Thor gingerly put the container down.

“Yes Captain, I… find I cannot in good conscience eat a goat,” Thor said picking up another container and studying it.

“That’s chicken,” Tony reassured him passing a box that contained a triple cheeseburger with plenty of onions, “Try this it might suit you.” Thor immediately approved of the burger, it wasn’t easy to go wrong with a good burger.

Though the company was unwanted Loki found a sense of comfort in the noise and activity, listening in as Thor and Steve asked questions about the food for the Starks to answer. If the Starks did not know then Jarvis would provide information, Loki cared not about the province of food or what it contained, food was food and this was the best food he had tasted in a dreadfully long time.

He listened into the varying conversations, Soleil debated baseball with Steve, apparently he took offence at the LA Dodgers, none of this made sense to Loki, what made even less sense was Hockey, even the Captain did not seem to understand her love of Hockey.

The older Stark chimed in once in a while or talked at length to Thor about various things, places the god should see since he would be spending time on Midgard and perhaps the acquisition of a phone – communication device. Loki knew how that would end, Thor had never been great at keeping in touch.

The four talked at length about everything and anything, Loki was more fascinated by the Korean barbecue than what was considered the best dessert.

According to Steve Rogers you could not beat a good apple pie with a dollop of thick cream or ice cream. The older Stark insisted on Tiramisu which combined alcohol and coffee. Whereas the younger Stark insisted that New York style cheesecake was the best dessert, though ice cream (of any type) was a close second.

He noticed that Rogers was rather experimental with his choice of food, wishing to try everything at least once. Thor ate whatever had the most meat, Stark knew what he liked and stuck to that while his daughter seemed filled by the small tub of soup she had half-eaten.

“Jane has mentioned you little Stark,” Soleil did not appreciate Thor’s new nickname for her.

“Okay?”

“You are an engineer?” Thor asked.

“Yup, my main focus is space, aerospace engineering if you will, but I am not confined to one area of study,” She said setting her half-eaten carton down.

“Jane had mentioned that you are attempting to colonise your moon?”

“Me personally no, but I wanna find a way to make the moon liveable, so we can continue our research,” she said taking a long sip of water.

The floodgates were opened up and Thor could only sit uncomfortably as she prattled on about her designs on space, how they might once again reach the moon and this time stay there. She had ideas with regard to terraforming, to establishing a liveable base, not just on the moon but Mars as well. They would be the first destinations in this new space race she dreamt up.

Loki recognised the blank look on Thor’s face, he had long since lost interest and Soleil quickly realised. Twiddling her fingers she fell silent, ashamed even, this made Loki frown. Her father wrapped an arm around her whispering something, she perked up a little.

Thor turned to Steve to start an entirely new conversation, which made Soleil wince. Tony reassured her all was well and rubbed her arm, only to annoy Macbeth who popped her head out to see who it was that was rubbing her.

“Sorry my scaly grandbaby,” Tony grinned at the indignant snake.

⸢Oh another one, what is this one the god of the farm?⸥ the snake complained looking a surprised Thor over.

⸢I am the god of thunder, serpent⸥

⸢I stand corrected oh great and powerful goat fucker⸥

“I do not recommend getting into an argument with it, it thinks anything other than the younger Stark is beneath it,” Loki said trying a slice of pizza, he found the combination sweeter than expected.

“So they’re both Dolittle’s?” Tony asked Soleil who shrugged she didn’t get it either, but apparently they could understand Macbeth in some way. She certainly reacted to whatever they said back to her.

“I don’t get it either,” she admitted.

“So she doesn't like me?” Tony asked Loki while Thor continued to glare at Macbeth, the snake in return glared back at Thor (somehow).

⸢You may tell him that I enjoy his company, the red machine is most comfortable for resting on and he is a delight for a human being!⸥

“She thinks your armour makes the perfect place to rest,” Loki translated.

“Well it’s good to know I’m useful for something,” Tony grinned rubbing the snakes chin as she leaned up to him.

⸢You did not tell him that I enjoy his company nor that he is a delight tell him, tell him!⸥ Macbeth snapped at Loki

⸢It must have slipped my mind dull scales⸥ Loki grinned.

⸢Pompous false serpent⸥ she complained slithering her way onto Tony’s shoulder, Steve wasn’t as sure about the snake, but Tony was used to her by now.

“She’s tame and a pest if you let her loose in a workshop but tame,” Tony assured Steve who still wasn’t sure meanwhile Macbeth curled herself up on top of Tony’s head, she liked to feel tall.

“She’s inquisitive not a pest,” Soleil insisted gently cooing at Macbeth wondering how it was that the gods communicated with her.

“She likes to nap in places she shouldn’t,” Macbeth was not pleased by this, it wasn’t her fault she found nice warm places to rest in his workshop. She slithered her way back to Soleil deeply offended, Tony rolled his eyes.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t leave your workshop unlocked,” Soleil argued as the serpent coiled herself around her right arm once again.

“Dum-E likes to roam the house, you know this Bee,” Tony argued, yes she did know, she had spent a childhood learning to know when Dum-E was out and about. She loved him, she really did but Dum-E was not built to handle fragile things, especially fragile children.

“Yes but should he be trusted to roam the house?” Soleil asked grinning when he failed to find a suitable answer. Everyone knew it wasn’t a good idea, Dum-E lived up to his name and while he was adorable he vastly overestimated his own skill and abilities.

Tony blinked several times, nope a reasonable argument still failed him, there was no good reason why Dum-E should be unleashed within the house, “So Point Break, what’s this about coffee and pop tarts?”

Thor lit up with a glorious and adorable smile, “My lady Jane introduced me to such wonderful refreshments.”

“And you were worried about feeding them actual food,” Tony whispered to Soleil who grinned to herself, “Well Point Break we do have coffee-”

“-Dad you can’t feed Thor your coffee,” Soleil protested as her dad made his way over to the coffee machine.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Tony joked.

“It comes with a health warning!”

“It’s not that bad,”

“By buying it you accept all the dangers that coffee presents, you have to sign legally binding documents on the website, you can’t give it to an alien!” Tony wasn’t seeing the issue, those aliens were gods, “It literally killed three people last year.”

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Loki muttered at the exact same time Thor lit up, “Let me test this coffee!”

Soleil buried her face in her hands, Steve offered her a spring roll in consolation, she took it, to exhausted to care that she was full up. Trust her dad to find the one alien that would enable his terrible habits. Fuck this was going to be a long year.

The avengers (well Tony, Steve and Thor) discussed what they should do with Loki, the god of mischief had no say and Odin had decided to leave it in their hands. The obvious answer would be to lock him up, lock him away where he could cause no harm.

There was no place suitable on Midgard that the avengers were aware of, Loki knew of several places but would rather not assist any further attempts at incarceration. He watched them struggle amongst themselves to come up with the ideal solution.

“I can’t keep him here,” Tony protested to Thor who insisted this was the best place, “I have staff and my kid to consider.”

“You have a goat here?” Thor asked.

“Soo, allspeak translates things literally?” Tony asked perplexed, Loki rolled his eyes, no it didn’t, Thor had simply mistaken the context of the word which would have supplied the answer.

“Kid is slang for child, he’s talking about his daughter Soleil,” Steve told Thor who stood there just realising what Soleil was to Tony, “You didn’t know?”

“The big fella showed up in the middle of this mess, I don’t think he got the briefings,” Tony reasoned, “Sol’s my kid, child, offspring whatever you wanna say, point is while Bumblebee’s here I’m not hosting Loki.”

“Loki shall not harm your daughter Stark,” Thor half lied, in truth he might harm Soleil, Loki had done a lot worse in his past though usually that was for the sake of Asgard or the protection of his family.

“Look all you have to do is sneeze at my kid and boom, in hospital,” Tony argued.

“Your daughter is that fragile?” Thor wondered if it were an age thing, Darcy looked to be of a similar age and seemed hale.

“Yep kid’s a medical wonder, impossibility even, so unless I have proof that Loki can’t hurt my kid you’ll have to have him live somewhere else,”

“Why not call SHIELD?” Steve offered, Thor considered this, but Tony had the most peculiar expression one that made Loki take note.

Tony shuffled on his feet, “I’m not saying that… look Loki took out quite a few SHIELD agents, Phil included, everyone loved Phil. I’m not sayin’ he’d approve out loud, but I’m sure Fury would be willing to turn a blind eye if anyone… took advantage of Loki’s situation.”

To Tony’s surprise Steve agreed, “What other options do we have? Thor are there any other territories, realms or worlds that would take Loki?”

“The majority of the nine realms are overseen by Asgard, they would not be willing to risk Odin’s ire by inviting Loki – even as a captive – amongst their numbers,” Thor reasoned.

“Why do I get the feeling when you say overseen what you really mean is-” Steve elbowed Tony in the ribs to get him to shut up.

“Can’t you build a containment around a single floor in the tower?” Steve proposed.

“Yeah and then what happens, he tricks Jarvis or someone else to let him out. Hell Bee would let him out if meant she could learn some weird alien shit, or fuck, she’d let him out to… you said Puente Antiguo?” he turned to Thor.

“Yes?” the god of thunder blinked confused. “I landed there, it so happened that Jane Foster and Agent Phil were also there.”

“Riiiight, well fuck,” Tony ran a hand through his hair, “If he stays here… how much do you two know about engineering?”

“The sciences were Loki’s subjects not mine,” Thor answered.

“We can’t keep him here,” Tony insisted to Steve who was just as confused as everyone else.

“Tony the tower is the best option-” Steve was about to argue, but Tony was adamant against the idea.

“-No it’s not because if Bee finds out-”

“-If Bee finds out what?” Soleil asked, Tony jumped curing Natasha (back when she was Natalie) for teaching Soleil how to be sneaky.

“I do not see why Puente Antiguo is so important to my brothers confinement,” Thor frowned not understanding what was going on at all.

“Did you say Puente Antiguo?” Soleil rounded on a surprised Thor, he did not understand.

“Is this some mythical town I should visit?” Steve asked it had been mentioned a lot in five minuted.

“No, no Bee he didn’t, he said-” Tony tried to correct not realising Thor did not like to be called a liar.

“-Do not make me a liar Stark,” Thor threatened.

“Yeah Dad how dare you make the most venerable god of thunder out to be a liar, honestly have you no shame?” Soleil said placing her hands on her hips, Thor nodded in complete agreement.

Loki rolled his eyes at how quickly Thor soaked up the praise and attention, it was honestly embarrassing how easily the fool could be manipulated and it had taken a mortal one afternoon to discover this weakness.

“Puente Antiguo was where I met my Lady Jane, Darcy, Selvig and your beloved Agent Son of Coul,”

“You mean Coulson, he’s American, we don’t use Patronymic or Matronymic surnames. At least not in the way you’re probably thinking of them,” Soleil corrected, “He was just Coulson, His father was probably not named Coul. Like how I am Stark and not Anthonysdóttir.”

“I see,” Thor muttered, “That explains the oddity of Jane’s family name.”

“Yep so if you and Jane married on Earth, and she decided to take your name, just as an example off the top of my head-” Tony and Steve finally caught on, she was buttering up the god of Thunder, and he was eating it up, “-She would be Jane Odinson, which I suppose would be awkward in Asgard but normal here.”

“That does seem odd?” Thor admitted hating how it sounded, it made her sound his like his sister.

“So you met in Puente Antiguo, I once read it’s romantic to get married where you met your love, but a desert town seems… inappropriate for a wedding to a god, especially with it still in need of repair.”

“Yes, the destroyer created so much damage when it walked through the town,” Thor turned to Loki who sat back utterly amused that Thor had so easily fallen into Soleil’s trap, of course Thor read his amusement wrong.

“The destroyer?” Soleil asked.

“Yes, The Destroyer Automaton is a weapon and guardian of Asgard, it was sent by Loki to kill me,” Thor glared at Loki again, “I wonder if it is still where we left it?”

“You really think SHIELD would have left something called the destroyer alone after what we saw with the tesseract?” Steve asked not understanding Soleil’s interest.

“How dangerous is this thing?” Tony asked.

“It levelled a town Tony, it’s dangerous,” Steve reasoned.

“Hush that’s not important, so the destroyer was sent by Loki to what attack you? Did you defeat it battle then?” She asked.

“Yes, with my godhood and power restored I used my strength and lightning to best the destroyer in combat,” Thor proudly announced.

“That’s sooo amazing,” Loki rolled his eyes the falseness wet unnoticed by Thor, “So like, it’s no longer functioning?”

“No, I knew I could not best it if I attacked the body, so I attacked it’s core it’s power source, rendering it inoperable,” Thor answered.

“Amazing,” Soleil continued, “So, any random idiot can command it?”

Thor laughed at the jab at Loki, Loki just sat deeply disappointed in his brother who allowed his ego to be bolstered like this, “No, it can only be commanded by the king of Asgard.”

“Loki was king?” Tony asked.

“What Asgard’s never had a queen?” Soleil asked.

“How do you go from being King to invader?” Steve asked.

“Expansion of the empire?” Tony proposed, “One land beneath the Asgardian sun and all that.”

“So what, you get named ruler of Asgard, and you’re in automatic control of its weapons? How does that work?”

“Through the Odinforce, Gungier acts as a tool to harness this power and through the Odinforce any ruler can command the destroyer,” Thor answered wondering why she was asking this, “Why do you ask little stark?”

“But I imagine Steel or iron would easily break under the strength of Mjölnir right? So how did the destroyer withstand your combined might?”

It was hilarious how quickly Thor turned from suspicious to eager to explain just how incredible he was.

“The metal from which the destroyer and my Mjölnir is forged is known as Uru, it can only be forged in the megastructure that surrounds Nidavellir. The dwarves harness the power of their sun Nidavellir to forge Uru, they are the only race capable of such a feat,”

“Only because they guard their secrets like paranoid dragons,” Loki muttered.

“Dwarves?” Steve asked.

“Did he say megastructure surrounding a sun?” Tony asked

Soleil vibrated, actually vibrated.

“Soo how does someone get into Nidavellir?” Soleil asked.

“With charm and plenty of gold,” Loki answered

“I can get gold,” Soleil whispered loudly, “How much gold do you-”

“-Bumblebee I know all this is very exciting,” Her dad began to steer her away from the gods, “But this can wait until tomorrow when you’ve had your ten hours now go, sleep.”

“Ugh fine, oh,” She pulled out a piece of paper from her jacket pocket and read out loud, “Pepper says pick up the fucking phone, or she’s leaving you for a man called Seamus.”

“Shit,” he’d forgotten to call Pepper to reassure her he wasn’t dead, he still made sure to push Soleil out toward the Elevator, “Stick him on your floor for now Point Break.”

“My Floor?” Thor asked.

“Oh, oh right, you all have your own floor Jarvis will send you to the correct ones,” that was that. The Starks were gone.

“Why do I feel manipulated?” Thor asked.

“You are catching on much faster these days' brother,” Loki grinned.

Steve sighed, he wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with this bullshit.

#Loki/OFC #LokixOFC #Loki Odinson #Loki #Loki Fic #MCU Loki #Loki/OC #Stark OC

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michaelamwrites · 7 years

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Twelve Extraordinary Women: How God Shaped Women of the Bible and What He Wants to Do with You

Book Description:

Celebrated for their courage, vision, hospitality, and spiritual giftedness, it's no wonder women were so important to God's plan revealed in the Old and New Testaments. It wasn't their natural qualities that made these women extraordinary but the power of the one true God whom they worshipped and served. In "Twelve Extraordinary Women," you'll learn more than fascinating information about these women, you'll discover-perhaps for the first time-the unmistakable chronology of God's redemptive work in history through their lives. These women were not ancillary to His plan, they were at the very heart of it.

I was excited to find this book second-hand, because I’ve listened to and read a lot of material by John MacArthur and enjoyed it. Many people think that the Bible is derogatory toward women, but this isn’t the case, as MacArthur lays out. However, whenever a woman does something extraordinary in this book, it’s always followed by a “...but,” especially if that something extraordinary doesn’t fit into traditional gender roles. Honestly, it seems that he picked twelve women and just did everything he could to make their stories support his opinions on what women should and shouldn’t do. More on that later. This got long, so it’s under the cut.

The twelve women covered in this book are: Eve, Sarah, Rahab, Ruth, Hannah, Mary, Anna, the Samaritan woman, Martha and Mary, Mary Magdalene, and Lydia.

In the first chapter, focusing on Eve, MacArthur very heavily emphasizes Eve’s subordinance to Adam. She has no identity other than serving Adam, according to this book. Apparently, it is also sinful to subvert traditional gender roles. This book got off to a great start, let me tell you.

Chapter 2, “Hoping Against Hope,” is about Sarah, also known as Sarai, Abraham’s wife. This chapter is mostly good, with some interesting historical tidbits, but while it condemns Abraham for lying to the Egyptians and telling them that Sarah was his sister, it praises Sarah for submitting to her husband and going along with the lie. MacArthur also praises her for casting out her servant, Hagar, along with her son, fathered by Abraham (on Sarah’s “orders”).

Chapters 3-5, on Rahab, Ruth, and Hannah, are pretty good and interesting, though the constant justifying of things they did gets annoying. And by “justifying” I don’t mean that MacArthur is justifying sinful things that the women did, but that instead of just discussing their stories and actions, he often comes across as defensive and condescending--for example, when he talks about Ruth sleeping at the feet of Boaz, he says “nothing immoral occurred, of course, and Scripture is clear about that.” Maybe I’m just being too picky, but it annoys me.

In chapter 6, which focuses on Mary, instead of just addressing the fact that various religions and superstitions glorify Mary and worship her, which is not Biblically sound theology, and then moving on, MacArthur takes up half the chapter reiterating this.

Chapter 7 is about Anna the prophetess--but MacArthur spends a lot of time undercutting her title and denying that she had any special relationship with God. "Anna may have been a teacher of the Old Testament to other women. Or she may have simply had a private ministry there in the temple offering words of encouragement and instruction from the Hebrew Scriptures to other women who came to worship. Nothing suggests that she was a source of revelation, or that any special revelation ever came to her directly.” In case that’s not enough convincing, let’s dissect the 5 women referred to in the Old Testament as prophetesses.

The first one is Miriam (Exodus 15:20), Moses’ sister. A one-stanza psalm was her only recorded prophecy, but the fact that God had spoken through her became a point of pride, so apparently she doesn’t really count. The second woman was Deborah (Judges 4:4), the only woman amongst the judges who led the Jewish people before they insisted on a king. But lest we womenfolk get any ideas about being leaders, MacArthur explains that she wasn’t a usurper of men, but she functioned in a “maternal capacity” to raise up men to step into their proper leadership roles. He goes on to talk about the other 3 prophetesses mentioned in the Old Testament, at least 3 of whom had express revelation from God, but he still draws the conclusion that there’s no way Anna could have been a real prophetess. Chapter 7 irritated me the most out of the whole book, because of how far MacArthur bends over backwards to avoid condoning women being in any sort of authority position, save over other women. It’s the 21st century, man, catch up.

Chapter 8 is about the Samaritan woman, and there’s nothing noteworthy about it, good or bad. Chapter 9, on Martha and Mary, contains this line: “My strong suspicion is that many women would be inclined to sympathize with Martha, not Mary.” “A strong suspicion,” really? This just goes to show that maybe a man shouldn’t be the one to write a book for and about women. Another strange line is “Of course, such a thought [that what we do is more important than what we believe] would never consciously enter Martha’s mind.” Really? How can you possibly know that? MacArthur fills out his overviews on these women with theories or ideas that are nowhere biblically supported, but that support his view of how women should be.

Chapters 10-11, about Mary Magdalene and Lydia, don’t have anything particularly offensive or sexist, but Lydia’s chapter is much more about other people than about Lydia, because there’s so little about Lydia in the Bible.

And at last we’ve reached the end of our book. In case you couldn’t tell, I really disliked this book. MacArthur views these women through a weird lens of both putting them--and women in general--on a pedestal, but also thinking they’re inferior to men. He clearly thinks it’s important that women be quiet and submissive and meek, as those are qualities he glorifies in these women--even when there’s no biblical evidence that they were quiet, as in Anna’s case. There are a few interesting tidbits here and there, but it’s not worth slogging through whilst gritting your teeth. If you want to study women in the Bible, I’d definitely recommend Ann Spangler’s work instead. She has a book called Wicked Women of the Bible, as well as a 52-week devotional study called Women of the Bible.

#christian books #christian book reviews #john macarthur #twelve extraordinary women #book review #my reviews

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jamesdazell · 7 years

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RELIGION VS ART, LITERATURE, CULTURE - (Or, How Literature Literally Lost The Plot)

1. Literature ~ I

The origin of the aesthetics of a novel are found in the Gospels, the stories of the Old Testament, Augustinian confession, Plato dialogues (who was a Proto-Christian), comedy, and the moral fable. I wondered for so long why the best novelists were the ones so well acquainted with the Bible. The novel is a thoroughly Judeo-Christian work, and since Christianity is reformation of Judaism, and Islam is the reformation of Judaism through Christian scholarship, the tradition is Islamic too. Twentieth century cinema, a practical development of the novel (not plays) have dysfunctional characters who suffer from themselves usually isolated by their neurosis and essentially are imploding across the story line. Gangster films for instance, horror films, take pleasure in pain and suffering in the sense of violence in medieval passion plays retelling the crucifixion if Christ. The pleasure in suffering. In the degeneration of a man. The very emblem of Christianity is the dead Christ on a cross. Christ who suffers for our sins. It’s unsurprising that the king directors of the mob film genre, Martin Scorsese, Brian de Palma, and Francis Ford Coppola are all Catholic. The genre springs right out of it, and the audience revelled in its violent pains as well as a joy in pessimism, ugliness, and self-deprication, as well follow their descent in to madness and disorder. Not at all like in the tragedies where we take pleasure in the strength in suffering, wisdom on account of suffering. In cinema and the novel, the characters suffer often from their own awful psychological traits (the dysfunctional psychological story is the confession before God and a quest for a redemption, the judgement before God’s eyes, a Catholic guilt), that one suffers for having sinned. Outside of the Bible this also belongs in comedy, where the idiot suffers from ignorance, and in history where the person is said to have fallen to ruin by a lack of prudence. But as time went on, comedy, history, and Christianity all merged. Worst of all, that we’re supposed to take pity on the characters. Pity: the bleakest, heaviest, weakening effect on the body, mind, and spirit there is; and yet a Christian virtue. Pity is far worse than sadness. It’s a degenerating quality that weighs down the spirit and kills off joy. There are films where the stronger our pity for the hero is, the greater we’re to perceive their heroism is even more Christian. And the story is built along the action driven by specifically Christian values and concepts of the world. Fabrications which don’t exist in the actual world. Does the plot have a dualism of good versus evil? The moral good in resentiment towards the moral evil? Does it drive by the foundation value of Christianity: resentiment, and the Christian concept of evil, a figure of immorality, which does not exist, but has hithero been the make-up of every great being on Earth. More a Julius Caesar than a Jesus Christ. One, who possessed every life affirmative instinct possible, the other, the most life degenerating instincts.

Instincts which are also in the foundation of the novel. It’s said the first novel is Cervantes’ Don Quixote. If so, that explicitly proves it: Cervantes a Catholic, written in prison (a hermit existence), a comedy written as a history, that attempts to moralise its audience, written episodically like the picaresque books. The practice of writing a novel requires a hermitage, unphysical hibernation, a kind of discarding of the body, in to an asceticism. Shutting off the world for a writing desk, and life for the imagination. The novel a Christian art form through and through. The novelist becomes confessionally introspective, but doesn’t reveal it through the dialogue, but through the psychological study of its character in the same way that Christians were supposed to keep a diary to observe and critique their moral thoughts. The novel is a really weird form of literature, it’s a medley of many low styles of writing, that don’t even really fit together.

Even the style of language in a novel is light with a rhythm and cadence that derives from comedies like Menander and histories of Herodotus, instead of the mightier line of epic or tragedy, or even the histories written by Thucydides and Livy. Found from Aristophanes, Plato, Menander, through Apuleius, right through to Cervantes, to Tolstoy, to Garcia-Marquez. The prose style of the novel reached its perfection in the writer Leo Tolstoy. But the Latin elegiac poetry and Roman Latin prose is the best style of writing of all writers ever. It’s Tolstoy but from a totally superior level that completely detoxes Tolstoy from writing.

Time in a novel never stands still, it shifts back and forth, abruptly, as if the author could never grip a moment. In plays and poetry the matter at hand is gripped with intensity. Time in a novel is always transient without ever putting us in the moment. I have to go to epic poems, plays, and poetry just to hold on to a moment, to really feel the weight of a moment. The plot of novels never keep me gripped because they don’t even grip themselves. There’s more done in a single soliloquy of Shakespeare’s Hamlet than in an entire novel. I want to feel the moment that the character is in, the pressure that is upon him, the choice at the crisis, his own sense of himself, his relationship to his existence, other characters, his decisions, and the universe. I have to feel that the character is involved in something, in some crisis which makes the drama - but I don’t in a novel because the moment disappears and I’m given a new one before I’ve had the chance to accept it.

The playwright and the scriptwriter are both superior practices to the novelist - not to say anything of their content. Although the poet is the supreme writer of all, the playwright has a greater task than the poet, because they present life, the relationships between people, society, and the world at large. There was a time when the poet, playwright, philosopher were one thing and all came out in the same work. That kind of writer remains the most supreme of all. I don’t think a writer like that would even recognise a novelist without a great burst of laughter. How disagreeable the Western novel would have been to Shakespeare, Aeschylus, and Homer. Playwrighting and poetry is more akin to music than it is even its own ugly sibling, the novel.

Tragic heroes seem as though they’re similar but they’re a total opposite. They’re supremely great characters, better than we meet in real life, who suffer from a superfluity of greatness, isolated by their superabundance of energy towards a particular habit that breaks them free from traditions of the world around them, they are explosive across the story line. Essentially they are beaten down by the world that come upon them by feeling this new thing is a threat. “Greatness wins hate” writes Aeschylus in his tragedy The Orestia. Not one tragedy asks you to pity it. The heroes are strength in the face of danger. Pleasure of will to power in the face of pain. Defiant in the face of morality. Self-insistent, an anti-hero, neither good nor evil but beyond both. Tragedies see Christianity as beneath it. The novel (and thereby cinema) is just a comedy we take pity for; a comedy we take all too seriously.

~ II

We perpetuate our values, beliefs, interpretations of the world through the stories that we tell, and the culture we share among an audience. Our own Western tradition of story telling comes from the Abrahamic religions that the West had absorbed for centuries. It’s hard to divert away from them, as the tradition of all our story-telling concepts seem to originate there. Similarly, the stories that are told around the world have their origins in the traditional and prevalent religions of that region.

In the Western world, wherever you’re telling a story its more than likely that, even if you don’t have to think about it, the story you’re telling has its roots in Abrahamic religion’s values, beliefs, interpretations, concepts, simply because for two-thousand years the West has been predominately divided up by the three Abrahmic faiths. And when we tell a story we are really just interpreting these values, beliefs, ideas, interpretations, goals etc. we are only articulate these through a story. Sunsan Sontag expressed her view of this in a conversation with John Berger, saying that there are no stories. Stories only happen where there are writers. That life doesn’t happen in stories, life merely happens, the universe merely happens, and events merely happen in the infinity of events; and it;s our story-telling that isolates the scenario, constructs their beginning and end, places a perspective of value on to it, and gives it a meaning. That there are no stories until the story-teller makes one.

Anybody can tell a story. It’s ingrained in us how to tell stories. We know how to tell stories through the stories we absorb all the time through the films we see, the stories we are told as children, the video games we play, the way history is told, the books we read, the essays we read, the way the news is told in the media, and the anecdotes we tell each other - we are surrounded by stories. But where do their own techniques of story-telling come from, and are they universal?

Art has always been religion’s greatest obstacle. Not science. Science, in its relinquishing of the senses as empiricism, and an objectivity that goes as far as to deny human significance “i look at the universe as realise how insignificant we are” science says - thereby denying the body and the powerful significance of one’s life - science has so far been religions greatest ally. Art on the otherhand offered people a whole view of life and power over life that religion has had no comparative to. God is not the issue in the 21st Century. You don’t have to be religious in the modern world to be religious. You just have to perpetuate religion’s values and beliefs through culture and stories. When Martin Luther nailed his treatise to the door of Castle Church in Wittenberg on 31st October 1517, and the Reformation sprung up which effectively ended the Renaissance (the Golden Age of Man of nearly two millennia), because he felt that the Catholic Church had been corrupted by paganism, culture became Christianity’s best ally. Through culture Christianity became secularised. It poisoned the rivers of culture through a new art movement Romanticism. Although philosophically after the Renaissance philosophers have always held scepticism towards Christianity, Romanticism is effectively secular Christianity. Which itself has all the ingredients of the decadent movement (or, playing in one’s ashes, or the delight in degradation), atheism (or Christianity without God), and nihilism (or, conceptual art.)

So what happens the moment you say, “well, I don’t want to tell an Abrahamic story.” Where do you go then? Say that you’re not Jewish, Christian, or Muslim, say you don’t have an Abrahamic interpretation of life and the world, what if you don’t hold Abrahamic values, how do you not tell a story that is relating these Abrahamic values and life interpretations? Let’s consider that.

~ III

I said in an earlier essay on The Tragic Artist that theatre was an extension of poetry and that theatre pre-dated formal Western philosophy. Both formal Western theatre and formal Western philosophy arose within the same people, relatively soon after each other - so soon, it could be easily argued in reaction to each other. Poetry was once philosophy too, but it divided in to two halves, those who made theatre and those who made philosophy. One of art and one of logical reasoning. Both were interpretations of their own world view and extolled the values and beliefs of that world view.

You have to really work hard to untangle the traditional Western mode of story-telling and not step in to it. Here’s a quick list of what our stories cannot involve:

Redemption (as in the endings of Dostoevsky - after a series of immoral actions, then concluding by the act of praying or converting to religion in an act of vindication of from one’s sinful actions)

Pity - characters going through suffering but we have to pity them. Pity has a weakening effect on strength.

Self-sacrifice for the greater good or out of despair of life (or, the martyrdom of Christ)

Suffering from oneself, or from life, (the ineptitude to live well and the author’s demand that we pity their ineptitude and call it drama)

Love of one’s neighbour (converting from individual to the herd)

The idea that love conquers all (Agape - the God’s love is the highest power and redeemer of humankind)

Hatred of the powerful, the people vs the ruler, what is that if not Moses’ people versus the Egyptian rulers, David versus Goliath, Jesus versus the Romans (Considering the Abrahamic religions have their origins in lowest classes of society, the herds of the oppressed lowest classes that rued their rulers, whilst the Asian religions and Ancient Greek religion have their origin in ancient educated nobility. Hatred of the powerful is a resentment of power, and the qualities of powerful, the great, the strong. Pleb revolt in favour of degenerate qualities because they are weaker and want power. The Bible Romanticises these events, but in reality they turn in to the revolutions that gave us Lenin, Saddam Hussein, Hitler, Napoleon, even Donald Trump. I already expressed that in the essay WE.) Hatred of the powerful is hatred of power itself, hatred of the strong is hatred of strength itself.

Sin and the Ten Commandments -That one’s suffers because on is sinful.

Christian concepts for various incarnations of the devil, daemons, whether incarnate or in possession of the soul. (What is the Devil if not a kind of God? And if there are no Gods, then there is no Devil. And if there is the concept of a Devil, there is within that the concept of a God.)

Good and Evil. The idea of a character of moral evil. Evil having its origin in Judeo-Christianism. The closest to evil in non-Abrahamic story-telling is what is contemptible like Eastern cinema, Epic poems or Tragic theatre. In Western stories where the antagonist of moral evil the character is always one-dimensional, flat, depthless, we’re simply supposed to believe in the idea of Evil and that’s what they are In Eastern and Greek, all the characters were good, only that some were contemptible in character, but for that they had to have character.)

Parallel worlds, alternative reality or religious afterlife. - the belief that there is a better world, a truer world, a paradise world that awaits, and that this world is only a punishment, a training, a testing ground for an afterlife where a person is saved from suffering. Or, the inability to handle life and so invents another “better” one and degrades this only and actual one in to a dream, a fabrication, even - ugh! - a punishment.

The all encompassing one hero fated to save the world - (or, the chosen people appointed by divine origin, in the case of the Jews, or the divine son, the world redeemer, in the case of Christ.)

Immortality of the soul - for that there would need to be an afterlife

Free will (so that one can be accountable for one’s actions and thereby punishable, concept of The Last Judgement, and eternal damnation. For that one would need a soul, an afterlife, and a critic like a God)

Faith - (what is faith but not wanting to believe what is true.)

Hope (Hope is the worst kind of cruelty, for it prolongs the torment. Hope after nothing, will to do it, the willingness is all. when it is willed sufficiently enough it is done.)

~ IV

If you were cancel out the timeline and geography of story-telling in the Judeo-Christian tradition, a huge chunk of time and geography is removed. What’s left is Asia, which has its own religious outlooks of Taoism, Buddhism, Shinto etc and Western geographical world that pre-dates the prevalence of Abrahamic religion, ie. Before the Hebrew Bible and before Christianity was made the official religion of the Roman Empire (which pretty much contained all of Europe).

There were only two places where I could go to to find story-telling that was counter-active to those: Asian (particularly Japan) and the Ancient Greeks (specifically Archaic Greece.) The only two story-telling approaches that arose out of world views that sprang from the educated noble, strong, masterful societies and cultures. Japanese and Archaic Greek story-telling comes out the section society that could have the strongest view of life, that stood before society like a eagle on an eyrie.

In Buddhism, there is no concept of evil, there is no sin. Sin has a Jewish origin. The dichotomy of Good and Evil is a Zarathustran origin. Our morality, a Christian. Buddhism isn’t dualistic like the Abrahamic faiths and Hinduism. It’s monoism. The yin and yang are one, complete, whole, inseperable. The East doesn’t have this influence until the 20th century Westernisation in its story-telling. and western story-telling doesn’t begin to break away from it until its Eastern influence in the 20th century. The tradition of tragedy pre-dates the concepts of good and evil. In Homer both Trojans and Greeks are Good, Hector and Achilles are both good. It’s the same in tragic plays. However, in Japanese stories a person can behave in a way that is contemptable. Disloyalty is contempltable, or irresponsibility of power etc. Instead of Christian morality there are noble codes of the samurai just as there are heroic codes in Homer.

What would be my highest concept of an artist? My highest concept of an artist. That one has gratitude and a confidence in the face of all things. Does not seek either consolation or soothing from life. Whom can really swallow the benefit in every bad situation. The Archaic Greeks held so much truth of the nature of life, that life would have been unbearable to live with such a degree of truth. In order to be able to live and not divert from it they created myth, a beautiful veil over life that sprang right out of that truth. What is requires is intoxication and ecstasy in to life that one springs in to visions that beautiful life through gazing in to truth so long. In a word: Art.

Art allows us not only to bare the sufferings and pain of life, but be grateful for it. What cant an artist endure who is of that degree. Who can go through life with confidence and gratitude in the face of all things. The artist who has a super abundance of life, knowing that all things are for them, can bear with reality and know that antagonisms make them. What is there this artist could not be grateful for, could not deal with, could not come through better as a result of all things that arrive to him/her. Everything works for their becoming. There is no misfortune of life. All things that occur work to serve them. And the awareness of the terribleness of life is not consoled, soothed, or diverted from, but overcome through Art. Only an artist to that degree of gratitude to life would I even begin to call an artist. That they overcome, ascends above, and dances right over suffering. They see it for what it truly is and not merely for what it seems to be. That art is the proper affirmation of life. As though he would recoil off the truth of life’s in to art by instinct, in order to love it still all the more. That one has no resentment towards the presence of anything, but only holds what is proper in contempt. And what does this artist hold in contempt? Anything that diminishes this instinct.

~ V

What then are all Abrahamic values? Symptoms of declining life. An impoverished life, poor in spirit, a life denying will. Symptoms that one suffers super abundantly, unendurably, from life, from stronger people, and from one’s own conscience and body. The body becomes sin, weakening, where depressants like pity become a virtue, the individual degenerates in to the need for the herd to protect and preserve it, where every quality of strength becomes an evil, and the afterlife is created as a redeemer from the pain in this one.

To be not without a little scepticism towards the social origin of religions, a little prejudice perhaps, but observation nevertheless, isn’t it funny that in religions which come from the lower classes, God is much more vague and monotheistic. Religions from the lower classes, as expected they would be from a people that knew “power” vaguely and a great singular “them above us” God is something just as fearful as a “the noble rulers” wants to be praised as much by them just as “noble rulers.” Whilst in religions that come from higher classes, gods are many (polytheistic) like the noble courts would be, and resemble many characteristics about noble courts. Since they were “higher up”, they have a gods closer to the eye, closer to the bearer, a god that does not want to be praised all the time, one or many that can be ill-tempered, flawed, and with human temperaments, that can be outwitted, a god like the Olympians, the Egyptian Gods, the Hindu gods, the Shinto gods etc, that one can even be amongst them and perhaps, even overcome them.

I’ll come outright and say it, the prevalence of Abrahamic perspectives have killed off high culture wherever and wherever they have prevailed. Just as they are prevailing right now. We approached a curve during the 20th Century through our enthusiasm for Eastern religion (which make a hundred times more sense) and the Greek Chorus-like ecstatic return to nature in music, (the colourful and enchanted but robust view of life Icelandic Sagas - which we might owe to even for a Bjork), and love of cruelty, sex, and danger in cinema (as it had been on Shakespeare’s stage, Seneca’s, and Sophocles’s stage). I only encourage artists to look elsewhere. Namely Eastern and Archaic Greek. Just recognise that it hinders the greatest art. Make your art out of a higher spirit, mentality, and perspective than what Abrahamic traditions can serve.

~ VI

Do we understand yet what the secret great goodness was occurring through the 20th century right from its beginnings to its end? From Imagism’s interest in the Japanese Haiku, Kabuki and Noh theatre, from modern dance being inspired by the ecstatic movement of Ancient Greek chorus, to Picasso’s enthusiasm for African and Ancient art, to the 60 and 70s enthusiasm for Eastern religion, its stories and symbolism, to the dream-state expressionism in theatre, to the ecstatic method of making music through 60s to 90s. Music became more physiological again, more instinctive on the way it not only affected our emotions but the way it affected our bodies. It could do with far more intellectualism in how it does this, but that it begins there is the naive genius of popular music. The 90s and very early 2000s rekindled a huge enthusiasm for Eastern culture and philosophy and religion, as well as Indian Hinduism (the practice of yoga is still popular, and Buddhist meditation), as well as a Dionysian ecstasy particularly in music, And a love of the strange, the dark, the mysterious, even the terrifying, as something to compel strength, even a love of the ancient Roman and Greek, Eatern worlds (through cinema)). It’s likely our actors are better in the 20th Century than in centuries earlier. Because we are more complete beasts. We are more barbaric, animal, primal, beasts. We don’t sever aspects of ourselves under “sin” like we had done for hundreds and hundreds of years. And combined with the elegance of literary language and scene, we straddle both high and low. We far far less likely to think of life as though it’s a chronic illness, as Abrahamic values had seen it - as even Socrates had seen it when he said “life is a long sickness.” It is precisely our barbarism that makes us more complete human beings, more animal man, fuller of life. And yet not full enough. We began to revive a foundation for super abundant life affirmative values and behaviour. Somehow perhaps very calculatedly underswept almost entirely by the mid-2000 it all disappeared. Will this curve end? End because of the cultural conscience that has exploded upon it from Middle Eastern terror and political unrest that took hold of the West’s consciousness? Is that not itself more cause for it. Exhaustion versus Exaltation, Energy, Ecstasy. We were on our way to undoing or interfering with the Abrahamic religious influence on the Western culture, and we were creating so much better culture on account of it. How much of the 90s looked to Eastern religion, symbolism, story-telling, cinema and philosophy, that by the year 2000 we were so tired of seeing yet another martial arts appearance in a Hollywood film. But look what that did FOR pop culture. Then swept away swiftly by as early as 2002, beside the low culture that arose of Reality TV of The Simple Life that became in to the Kardashians. Why has the Kardashians been so successful? Because suddenly the whole mediocrity of the world could see themselves as a Kim or Kylie. They didn’t only identify with it they could turn to their own mirror and appear like it, and they could be claim some social affinity to multi-millionaire society to improve their social attractiveness. That took away the imaginative and well-scripted drama on TV. It took music back to that retro-retrograde of music of the raw punk and post-punk that hadn’t quite had its fill, that simplified music and the un-artistic, pathos instead of art, instead of the new peaks it was reaching as a synergy of all the genres and ideas that were circulating in the late 90s taking popular music if not music to where it hadn’t been to. And then 9/11 happened and resurged the cultural and political consciousness of Abrahamic religions. Even resurged Christianity in the West as an ignorant counter-active culture to its bigotry disdain for Islam. (As it’s doing now under Donald Trump.) So once more the Abrahmic culture gained a resurgence, defeating the Eastern-cure that was the enthusiasm for Eastern religions from India to Japan, which would have been the foundation to have a real resurgence in to that most supreme of Greek culture, for Archaic Greek culture, but from our 21st Century advantage of a perspective surveying the whole of all these varying cultures. Isn’t it clear that we were on the way, and that 9/11 interrupted this profoundly!

What fears and distrust of the East and Middle East it made the West. Causing a near immediate effect of making the West forget that the greatest music (and the poetry, cinema, and music of the 60s, 70s, and 90s was profoundly influenced by music of India, Asia, and the Middle-East - just as it influenced Greece, Rome, and the Renaissance, and the Orientalism of the early 20th century, and in short, every great period of Western Art). The 1970s (the first post-modern decade) gave us the 20th Century’s peak in popular culture’s masters. (Not meaning Arts masters, but where popular culture had figures that were touching on the Artistic Masters themselves.) But they were few and far between. But in the 90s the enthusiasm for these few figures was creating a mainstream culture that followed in their footsteps. And by the end of the 90s and first couple of years of the 2000s the brightest stars of this culture were hitting that same mastery and with the broad audience of pop culture full of enthusiasm for them. 2. Music

~ VII

But it was all abandoned. How did the Renaissance end? With the Reformation, with Lutherism, and Calvinism, and Protestant Reform of the Catholic Church that hoped to redeem the church from the Renaissance paganism love of Greece and Rome, to pull it backwards in reverse to the resurgence of Christianity. It already killed off music during the Renaissance. The joyful and strong music of Francesco Landini, Guilliame Dufay, Adam de la Halle, to become the cold and morbid music of Palestrina. That took away rhythmic power in music to have melodic music, that arose from the most commonly heard melodic music, the choirs of Christian mass. The whole tradition of classical music is a censorship on music. There’s no doubt what dances right on top and over Abrahamic religions - the Archaic Greeks, drinking songs, tragedy, ecstatic music, beauty. Dionysius. The Renaissance, the last Golden Age, did not consist of thousands of Leonardo da Vinci’s, these were exceptions, within religious times. It didn’t matter that these were religious times, these were exceptions within those times. It’s not that life is ugly, but the truth of life is ugly. So ugly that without the beautiful image and the ecstatic music we can hardly bare with such truth of life. The world can be a terrible place, that’s why we have culture, so we can live in it, that’s why we have art, so that we don’t perish by the truth. Out of the truth of reality, which would otherwise stun us in horror as stiff as a Niobe, the artist, during intoxication and passion for creativity, recoils in to artistic expression, allowing them despite the truth of life to love it all the more nevertheless. The degree of a musician is often how transformative they can turn an experience; can turn dark to light, can turn pain to pleasure, can stare in to the darkest realities of life and feel untouchable, can scale that same power as its great antagonist and become a laughing dance over it, singing never directly out of pathos but ironic to the lyric, have inventive rhythm sections and polyphonic melodies, can keep rhythm as the stronger force in music than melody, can sing as though to turn all the pain in to pleasure, and through doing so celebrate the reality of life and the vitality of the individual, freed of everything that had tried to hold it down, transformed in to a wild self-affirming return to nature.

When the future high culture looks back at our pop music with any admiration, i know of no other musician it will look admiringly with more certainty than Bjork. Throughout her catalogue she has touched on every genre, and there are touches of every form of music of every kind, without ever not sounding nevertheless quintessentially Bjork. She puts herself in to music and makes it conform to her not her to it. But more than that hers is the one music that is reminiscent of music of previous high cultures. And therefore most likely to be enjoyed by future high cultures. I fundamentally believe this: that all high cultures relished in the same culture. Its a rare culture because its the culture of rare types of people. The confusion of the contemporary world is that it mistakes the high art of the upper classes of the modern world (1600-present) for high culture, when nothing could be further. and that the people’s culture has had more to do with the high culture of high periods, its just that its shallowed and hollowed by a confusion of instinct and low personality, that lacks genius as its audience. But there should be no mistaking the backwards anti-music of opera with music of high cultures compared to the energy and wildness of popular music, made for dance, sex, even danger, and catharsis. And everything else which constitutes virility and life. And essentially strong and healthy types. Enjoyment even in the stimulus of pain in life, (how many albums were conceived out of heartbreak, and how many popular musicians say its hard to write a song from being happy), music which lifts off pain often out of the stimulus of pain. That confronts it instinctively and creates and masters over it intuitively until its purged of pain. And ends up almost grateful for it. What are all the stale opera houses in the world compared to that, which is a music that only tries to dramatise pain. Opera is itself is a complete misunderstanding of music. And for it to be called high art is a complete misunderstanding of culture. The modern world has had no high culture. Not forgetting that classical music and opera both came out of Christian religious music. And that because there was once a time that Church was higher than the state this music was naturally assumed as higher music socially, politically, and religiously. And that instrumentals for dance with secular singing etc had been the great European music until the Church banned it. And its that music that resembled our popular music. Classical music is really just a strange anomaly in the history of music - except for choral music - that really only appears in the modern world and nowhere else. And on the grand scale of how long music has been around, that’s a relatively very short period of time.

My praise for FKA twigs, (who is in many ways that risidual-Abrahamic artist - but what she is, is better than what she does). I praise her for taking music back to its ritualistic nature that it takes us to in ecstasy. I was just watching some videos from the 1990s (actually Give It Away by Anton Corbijn, which is comparable to Papi Pacify). And was just like that’s why music had me so excited back then. it broke down the bullshit. it united us all in this ritualistic ecstasy that is music. the art of music in the 1990s was more real to me than ‘real-life’. I don’t think so much today. I feel music is dressed up in the values of real life. In its materialism and consumerism, its capitalist aspirations. How many shops, manufacturers, qualities of life are entwined with music. Here music was a strength. A gravity. A superpower. A sage. Wherever the visual aesthetic of music brings us back to the nature of music, culture is the better for it. Everything about music in the 1990s verged on the ritualistic, and these projections that sprung from it, that were these visionary icons. As though connecting and portraying something deep and more enriched than the everyday, that seemed to defy and confront it. And liberate it. And liberate us to some greater direction than the world seemed to have in store for us. It seemed to remind of us a way into ourselves and a way out of the miseries of the world. If we could only sustain it in ourselves and overlap it on to the world each day. Dance and music have moved forward in ways that literature hasn’t even begun to. And for that same reason, cinema lags behind too. That’s why I invented my Poets of Ecstasy, as a redeemer of all better things in literature. And as an objection to the ascetic practice of novel writing.

~ VIII

Homer’s works would itself be inspiration for the whole Archaic age of Greece, taking them out of the dark age. The age that gave it Thucydides, Heraclitus, Protagoras, Pindar, Sappho, and Aeschylus to name a few. And Socrates ended that age, the same way that Luther ended the Renaissance, the same way that Christianity ended the culture of the Romans. My writings of the last six months have pointed unswervingly to that the Archiac/Tragic period of Greece was the greatest culture and art movement of all time. It even brought Greece out of its own Dark Age. And the philosophy imbued in tragedy is the greatest philosophy of all. And that the Japanese nobility’s tradition of Buddhism and its own folk tales and theatrical stories are only a step lower and are sort of that foundational level if you were to lose your grip on Tragic art. That it’s there to catch you, and ultimately to keep you “culturally hygenic” and prevent you from falling in to the Abrahamic stories that have undone every great period of art and culture in all time.

I’m not blaming any person, I’m blaming psychological traits, values, the interpretations and perspectives on to life that come along with the Abrahamic tradition - as though it were a thing that can be clasped on to a mentality. 3. Visual Art Renaissance and ancient art was not realistic because it was fascinated by the rational view of life but that it painted myths with realism and clarity that was esteemed because it was imagination of cultural myths depicted with the clarity of realism. In the late 19th century they depict real life with subjective impression and a lack of myth. 20th century art is an art period without myths, without stories, without its own tales. Conceptual art is pure nihilistic art because it has nothing to interpret the world out of it, its a vision without substance beyond opinion, flat, and usually a polemic against something. It is art, but its nihilism. Conceptual art is merely a compensation for lacking myths. We have no stories, we have lens through which to see the world, to interpret it. We shed all our myths through atheism and the modern artistic movements. But nevertheless we have to make sense of the world and comment on it, so we use conceptual perspectives to scrunch it up, chew it up, and breathe air in to it. Conceptual art is that one can't see life with any clarity so the artist sees it through impressions, distortions, and concepts. Lies because he does not know how to see the truth. It doesn’t want Christian tales but it’s replaced them with nothing. So it has non narrative and often non figurative and where it does it is only the mundane absurdity of life, at best an empty but beautiful image, or an art conceived out of a concept of the absurdity of life , an art like this is fundamentally nihilistic. Full of nothing. That life was chaotic absurd and meaningless, just like its art. We live in an age of no myths. What’s needed is poets and story-tellers to create new myths. Romanticism is full of Christian concepts, Gothic is full of Christian concepts, Decadence, Conceptual, Surrealism, etc. The Renaissance proper was verging on to the Greco-Roman Hellenism art and at its very highest examples was veering towards Archaic Greek. The Reformation was the undoing of the Renaissance.The spirit, values, and ideals latched on to the art - which yes, may be a product of the Renaissance through figures like Michelangelo perhaps even Dante - but religion’s great opposition, Art, began to relax in the full summer of its Renaissance and found itself bitten by its enemy. All the myths were made by poets, but the rationality of science and rejection of Christianity left us nothing. I don’t want Christian myths, or even Greek and Roman myths, but we need to start making new myths, out of new values and perspectives. It’s up to poets and story-tellers to give artists a way of seeing the world clearly. A way for the world to see the world clearly. The conceptual artists aimed to do this, the Impressionists, the Romantics, the Renaissance painters, the Byzantine artists, and the Romans and Greeks, and any other era of artists. The only way to overcome Romanticism, is to overcome Christianity. Turn to the East, to the Japanese art, the Buddhist-Hindu art to purify oneself and purge the Romanticism out. Then the Archaic Tragic height, the highest peak art has yet known, will be reachable.

It’s not at all a problem that we have them, but that we don’t have the other, the better. But it gives it a reason to exist. It actually makes tragedy more profound. It’s actually the reason why Shakespeare may be more profound than Aeschylus - because he created a story-telling technique where the morality of Abrahamic faith was the “essence of evil” to the non-Abrahamic principled hero. As though the tragic hero were himself a new found European freedom, a free-spirit in every full sense of the word, who complete stepped out of Western Abrahamic tradition, but could not succeed in “living” within that world. The waste of this free-spirit in the backdrop of the Abrahamic world was Shakespearean tragic; the waste of the exception, the great hope for the future, the greatest. That was his tragedy from his first play to his last. He made all his tragic heroes tremendous by making them defy morality, customs, tradition of the world over and over again until the world finally engulfed him, and then honoured him after his demise. This was a story-telling technique that Aeschylus had no need for. The Abrahamic faith hadn’t yet caught hold of Europe’s higher classes. Aeschylus’s moral world was Zeus, and the breaching the Olympian gods, but even they were used as representations of Aeschylus’ perception in to the order of the universe. Not that it was ruled by gods, but that it had within it patterns of nature. When Aeschylus and Shakespeare are sandwiched on to each other, then there is a story that is entirely built on an understanding of the nature of the universe and the nature of man.

Here are a few easy-to-read articles about the differences between East and West story-telling

http://lithub.com/our-fairy-tales-ourselves-storytelling-from-east-to-west/

https://blog.tkmarnell.com/east-asian-storytelling/

http://stilleatingoranges.tumblr.com/post/25153960313/the-significance-of-plot-without-conflict

http://thebookaholic.blogspot.co.uk/2007/11/are-asian-stories-different.html

https://andreaskluth.org/2010/08/18/somewhere-between-apollo-dionysus/

http://www.timsheppard.co.uk/story/dir/traditions/asiamiddleeast.html

#litearture #the novel #novel #books #plot #stories #story

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blschaos3000-blog · 5 years

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Its 2:15 pm

Welcome to “8 Questions with…..”

Have you ever watched the news,hear a crazy ass story and think to yourself “I’m so glad that wasn’t me” and then realize that it does concern you? For our next guest,Ottavio Taddei,he found himself right smack dab in a story that made national headlines and he wasn’t even there when it happened. Imagine coming back from a well deserved vacation only to see news vans and reporters swarming your house and you. As a working actor,normally you would welcome a chance to be interviewed,right? Sadly for Ottavio,this story was not one he wanted nor welcomed Ottavio handled himself with dignity and class during this most difficult of times. But Ottavio has overcome some bumps during his time in Hollywood, and he is still working very hard to reach his goals. He has a role on one of the biggest films of the year,”Ford v Ferrari” coming out and hopefully that will be a springboard for this young multi-talented artist to get noticed,this time for all the RIGHT reasons. Ottavio is one of the coolest,intelligent and sensitive artists I have chatted with and I hope he gets the break he deserves. I really hope it happens for him… But for now,let’s go and ask acto/dancer Ottavio Taddei his 8 Questions….

Please introduce yourself and tell about your latest project.

Hi! My name is Ottavio Taddei I’m an Italian actor and dancer based in LA. I can’t complain for lack of excitement in my life thanks to the array of experiences that come my way. I’m looking forward to the releasing of the new James Mangold movie “Ford V Ferrari” with Matt Damon and Christian Bale to mention a few , happening on November 15th, were I had the honor and pleasure to portray a supporting character with a quite interesting contribution to the story development of the movie. Most recently I finished filming an independent feature film called “His Only Son” that narrates the story of Abraham, struggling with the extreme sacrifice God has demanded, the sacrifice of his son Isaac. It Was a wonderful experience to be filming in nature accompanied by a loyal donkey ( Philberth) and working around horses, goats etc. I’m thrilled to be filming in September a brilliant short film with the working title “Apollo Jump” written and directed by Matteo Saradini. I just had a dance show with a very talented group of dancers at the bar Harvard and Stone in Hollywood that was quite a new experiences. I’m also often collaborating with LA OPERA and LA PHILHARMONIC as a dancer and actor, I performed the lead role in “Bolero” directed and choreographed by Kitty McNamee with the whole LA Phil orchestra to myself! I’ll be soon involved in the new staging of the opera “Bohéme”, likely my favorite one. Several other project on the way but always hungry for more!

What was growing up in Italy like? Is it true that Italian food is the best ever created?

Italy is, and this is indisputable, the best country in the world! In such a small piece of land we have the richest artistic heritage and an impressive variety of sceneries and biodiversity. It is unfortunately challenging to be a young ambitious individual in a society that still follow obsolete dynamics, such as rewarding seniority more than productivity and a limited social mobility with the tendency to professionally follow the footsteps of our parents. Of course I can’t avoid mentioning the burden of decades of bad politics and corruption with the consequential high debt that make the country vulnerable to financial crisis and excessive fiscal pressure etc.

Now, talking about food, we do have pretty amazing food and the secret is simple: simplicity and produce quality. Internationally Italian cuisine offers a wide range of options but the truth is that you really need to be in the authentic place of origin of a certain dish to really have the “experience”. I’m from Bologna for instance and the way you’ll eat a lasagna or tortellini there has no equals. You want to eat authentic risotto at its best? Then you’ll have to be in the Milano’s Area. Pizza? We have different schools but yeah Naples and surroundings will provide a very special and unique experience and so on. I can tell you from my personal experience that in Puglia I bought peppers from a farm and I was in absolutely shock and awe to experience a “Pepper” for the first time, that was certainly not what I could find at the supermarket! I love other cuisines too but, yeah, we can keep our head high!

Where did the love of dance come from?

I grew up with two older brothers and I just followed their example, I played tennis, basketball and soccer growing up,( skiing, running and other activities too) that was the example I had, what I knew… I wish I had the chance to approach ballet earlier, my body was already developed and there’s only so much you can do when you live in an adult body but hard work and dedication definitely allow major improvements! Around 16, I started practicing Kung fu and the different use of the body required by this discipline intrigued me, I developed a desire to expand the limits of my body, gain flexibility, freedom and be more body aware, at that time one of my best female friends strongly insisted to get me involved in their end of the year dance show and I ended up accepting and started practicing etc. from there I never stopped dancing, it’s simply part of me, who I am and I hope it will always be.

What three things about dance do you love the most?

I’ve never been a super organized individual, dancing can be compared to a religion, it requires a lot of discipline and focus and it gave me a great growth opportunity. I love to stay connected with my body, I think that if you experience that deeper connection you’ll never want to give it up. Latins were wise: mens sana in corpore sano. Well I can’t avoid mentioning the gratification of pleasing an audience and the special bond that you develop with your dance partners.

What is the biggest difference between a “street dancer” and a “classically trained dancer”?

Well, technique exist pretty much in anything, technique is simply a way to achieve a certain result in my opinion. Let’s say that street dancing allows a higher degree of freedom of expression, is more dynamic, open to contamination, ballet has been coded for a long time and applied to the idea of a “perfect body” ( at least for that type of movement) and therefore there is a more defined standard of what it “should be” more then What it “should look like” and so on.

In Italy among artists we use a saying: impara l’arte e mettila da parte. It means: learn the craft and then put it aside. You can apply this piece of wisdom in pretty much most art forms.

From visual artists like Picasso that from mastering classical technique evolved his art into something unique and personal, or opera trained singers incorporating that quality in other genres or Shakespearean actors mastering the language to an extent that allows them to deliver powerful speeches in contemporary theatre and film.

What has been the worst injury you suffered as a dancer?

Fortunately nothing major, I had a chronic bursitis in my right ankle, therefore constant inflammation and pain for several years and not much to do to fix it, you can’t really take long breaks since you gotta eat somehow… When you dance as a career you must learn to work in adverse conditions it’s inevitable, like most professional athletes.

Dance taught at a young age can cause a lot of injuries so it’s really important to find very competent instructors that understand the different body types and didn’t learn technique only on books!

What did you enjoy the most about college experience?

College was for me the real transition into manhood, I went to Bocconi university that holds a pretty impressive reputation worldwide and all my fellow students were very determined and studious reversing certain high school dynamics were the best students were often considered not so fun to be around.

In university I experienced the opposite, if you weren’t serious about it you were substantially isolated. So I learned to use my brain and be more conscientious and I’m grateful for that!

What led you to try your hand at acting? Did anyone encourage you or had you always wanted to try it?

As an dancer I worked for operas, musicals, hybrid shows in contact with all sort of performers, I always loved acting but we can’t really handle everything at the same time can we?

For some reason I was always encouraged by directors and choreographers to embrace more interpretation heavy roles and the desire to explore acting grew in me quickly.

I believe in education and I wanted to study the “art of acting” before dealing with real challenges in that field and so when I had to stop dancing for a couple of months due to some health issues I did take the chance and flew to NYC to audition for an acting school that was recommended to me by established and super talented documentarist and filmmakers Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini , I got admitted at my first shot and went to graduating from the Stella Adler studio of acting conservatory in NYC and I did a little bit of theatre in high school but really minimal.

How long have you been in the United States? What were the three biggest culture shocks to you?

I’ve been in the USA for 7 years already between school and career, I always lived in international cities like NYC and LA and I wouldn’t claim any major cultural shock, what is mostly scary is the amount of social rage this country is going through that associated with the free circulation of weapons has led to a terrifying amount of mass shooting. This is definitely the worst possible shock, to see how many people are not appreciative toward the gift of life.

Another shock is to see how dynamic certain cities are, LA has changed so much in these past few years while Bologna, the city were I was born is pretty much identical to what it used to be many decades ago.

It’s also shocking to see how many people here have given up on being part of the society, that in my view is a lack of self love, in Los Angeles the homeless crisis is real and I’m sure some people might have incurred in personal tragedy that led to that condition but many others feel abandoned and they’d rather get that basic welfarism to survive than trying to stand back up.

What was your first acting role and how did you get it?

My first acting role once I finished school was probably a supporting role in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” in Los Angeles. I really wanted a role with more responsibilities but I definitely learned by spending many days in the company of more mature actors.

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What was it like working on “Ford v Ferrari”? What did you learn/take away from the experience?

I was very excited for the opportunity and a little scared! I learned that the bigger the set, more people you have around, the more alone you are and that is scary though empowering! They count on the fact that you are there because you know how to do your job, of course, you can still have some communication with the director, the camera operator, DP etc. But it’s less personal, at least for supporting roles. For instance we were on a time crunch filming with natural light and there was a bit of tension on set, while shooting with a steady cam I had to remain in the frame while moving to a designated position and you can’t really look at the camera position or you might end up accidentally looking into the lens, so you have to simply feel it on you somehow.

Where did you study acting at? What is your style of acting?

I received most of my training at Stella Adler Studio Of Acting in NYC, since I was coming with a certain movement background I wasn’t necessarily too enthusiastic about following a generalized program but I did have the pleasure to study acting technique with some wonderful teachers. I then took several workshops and classes in LA but of course after training in a “safe place” ( a place where you are meant to fail) you learn the most once you start dealing with real jobs. I do not follow a specific approach all the time, sometimes you just have to accomplish a task and to overthinking it is simple unreasonable to me. Some other times you have to work on developing a back story, to define clear intentions and needs that your character wants to achieve. I try to have several tools ready in my toolbox and pick the right one based on the situation and the character’s demands.

Self-tape auditions vs. live auditions – which do you perfer and why?

Self tapes allow you to send in an audition that you believe to be representative of the quality of your work, you can watch it and reshoot it as many times as you want friends and fellow actors permitting. On the other side a live audition is somehow fairer since everybody will work with the same reader, same light, same camera etc. Two different processes.. auditioning is often stressful but can also be satisfying. I had good and not so good experiences with both types of auditions, sometimes you are good at working the room sometimes not so much.

What scares you?

To miss out an opportunity, I’ve been living in LA for several years now and I still have very limited access to the casting rooms that handle high quality productions. I’m also scared to not see my life settle down after living here for so many years. I’m still on a visa and it does make me feel vulnerable to have to request new visas over and over again and have work limitations and no voice to contribute to the growth and well being of the people of this great country.

What do you like to do for recreation and relaxation when you’re not working?

To be honest I have the privilege to do what I love, hence it’s difficult to draw a line between work and leisure… what I’ve been trying to do is to be more social and meet people, I do a ton of physical activity, I’ve started to practice boxing and I love to learn new disciplines and skills.

The cheetah and I flying in to watch you perform but we are a day early and now you are stuck playing tour guide,what are we doing?

Let’s say we are in Rome, in the “centro”, the old town, (because unfortunately the outskirt of the city is not as charming) I would honestly send you to a totally random walk and let the city surprise you. That is how I visited for the first time and every few minutes I found myself in front of some magnificent piece of architecture, statue, fountain and monuments like nowhere else. Then for sure I’d have to take you to Saint Peter Cathedral, the Vatican museum where you must see the Sistine Chapel, no matter how many pictures of it you might have seen to be there is just magical and to imagine the dedication and talent of the master Michelangelo painting horizontally the ceiling for years is indescribable.

Of course some good typical restaurant can’t be avoided! So many other places would be worth mentioning but it’d take way too long!!

I like to thank Ottavio for sitting down and doing this interview with us. We’ll be looking him this fall when “Ford v Ferrari” hits the big screens. You can follow Ottavio as he continues to perform both in front of live audiences as well as in front of the camera. He is an artist to keep an eye on….

You can follow Ottavio on his growing InstaGram page.

You can also follow Ottavio via his IMDb page.

If you feel you have a story wish to share,feel free to send me a email which you can find on my contact page.

Comments and feedback are always welcome.

8 Questions with…………actor/dancer Ottavio Taddei Its 2:15 pm Welcome to "8 Questions with....." Have you ever watched the news,hear a crazy ass story and think to yourself "I'm so glad that wasn't me" and then realize that it does concern you?

#8 Questions With #acting #art #artist #culture #dancing #films #Friendship #Hollywood #Italy #learning #Life #loss #Ottavio Taddei #relationships

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