#booker critical

[mirrorofliterature]

there's something very amatonormative about the way booker sees the world

he tells nicky and joe that they had always had each other, whilst andy and booker only had themselves and their grief and that's uncharitable and an amatonormative way of looking at the world.

yes, nicky and joe are in a long-term romantic and sexual relationship that is very solid, but that doesn't negate like... their platonic relationships?

when booker says that, it is so damn self-absorbed and naive and amatonormative

does he not realise that nicky and joe have always been with him too? that nicky and joe lost quynh too? sure, andy lost her lover but look at nicky and joe when they tell nile about quynh - they loved her and her loss deeply fucked them up.

booker's betrayal is so, so selfish and amatonormative. and sure he had his reasons - grief, alcoholism, depression - but those are not excuses, but explanations. I'm on the side of 'booker is a character and what he did was understandable and he clearly needs therapy' but 'holy SHIT let nicky and joe feel BETRAYED because they were and shouldn't have to moderate their reaction to protect ickle booker' - like the amount of work booker needs to put in for a proper reconciliation is astronomical.

anyway I digress. by saying 'you always had each other', booker is being an amatonormative little shit who downplays both nicky and joe's platonic relationships, I love and care for the other immortals, including him, but also that they have suffered loss too - their families, and how their first meeting wasn't exactly serendipitous.

anyway! booker's framing of nicky and joe is deeply fucked up, stemming from amatonormativity and booker's worldview of competing grief. like booker.... grief sucks but it's not a competition, y'know?

anyway! this is a Reading TM of booker's worldview vis a via nicky and joe that I've felt strongly about because booker just like. is so self-absorbed in his grief that he cannot recognise and appreciate what he has, nor can he recognise that nicky and joe's lives haven't been sunshine and rainbows because they're in a romantic relationship.

like bro. they love you. go to therapy.

#the old guard #meta #booker #anti booker #well more like #booker critical #but I like to err on the side of caution #amatonormativity #kaysanova #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #like they lost their families and quynh too y'know there's no monopoly on grief

[ice-and-starlight]

So, I’ve been reading a lot of Old Guard meta lately (so obsessed, go watch that movie if you haven’t already, it’s so good), and I’ve seen a lot of good stuff re Booker and his relationships with everyone else, but there’s something I just haven’t see that keeps bugging me, and it ties into some of the, uh... woobification of Booker that gives me seriously creepy vibes.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore Booker and his storyline, it’s one of the best, most genuine betrayal storylines I’ve ever seen, with the foreshadowing and the psychology of the character so flawlessly set up that it didn’t come as a shock even when the twist totally still got me. (I remember reading in a meta for a completely different fandom that ‘twists are supposed to make you go ‘oh shit it all makes sense now!’ not ‘wtf where did that come from???’‘ and that’s what the Old Guard did so right here.) To set up a story where we, the audience, can still sympathise with the betrayer even in the moment he is actively betraying his family? -fans self- I aspire to this level of storytelling, truly.

But! Let me talk about that foreshadowing and psychology a moment. Because I’ve seen meta about the Don Quixote book, and I don’t think I need to explain why the multiple defensive ‘I don’t know’s after Joe and Nicky get taken are a little red flag, but here’s the thing that never gets talked about re foreshadowing Booker’s betrayal.

His backstory.

Oh, I don’t mean how his backstory explains why he’s terminally depressed, lots of people have dipped into that, Once you know what he’s planning, it’s very easy to see how he got there, how so much loss drove him to foolish, desperate acts in an attempt to make the pain stop. I don’t think I need to go into the details of what losing a child (even an adult child) does to someone.

No, I’m talking about the fact that Booker’s son didn’t trust him.

It’s written into his backstory, guys.

I will be the first to admit that my standards for parents in fiction are, uh, rather high, so maybe it didn’t look like a red flag to most people, but I watched that flashback scene, and more than just feeling the tragedy of Booker’s side, I felt a genuine little thread of horror at his son’s side of the story.

Now... that sort of severely extreme situation is hard to truly empathise with, but just try, for a moment, to imagine that you have a terminal diagnosis. You’re in pain and you know you’re dying. And your dad happens to be an immortal, who heals from greivous wounds and, presumably, doesn’t really get sick. It’s not exactly a stretch to imagine longing for that for yourself, right? Obviously. Anyone would. But... I try to imagine my dad, sitting at my bedside, while I’m dying, saying ‘I wish I could give it to you, but I can’t’, and... not believing him?

Honestly, I don’t believe that could happen unless there were already cracks in that foundation. Unless there was already some part of that man that whispered doubt in the dark recesses of his psyche.

I’m not saying that Booker’s son was right, not at all. The movie does show us that Booker is willing to sacrifice for the people he loves, but the movie also clearly shows us that he is not above making decisions for other people, regardless of their feelings on the matter. He’s also very good at keeping things to himself and/or not really trusting other people with them. (If he was so sure Andy wanted to die just like he did, why didn’t he tell her about his plan?)

My point, I guess, is that, yes, Booker’s backstory is tragic, it’s a horrible situation, but he’s not entirely innocent in it, either. He is one half of the equation that produced a relationship where a son felt he could not count on his dad when he was dying. I’m not even saying it was Booker’s fault that it was like that, but it was, at least in some part, his responsibility, as a father, to make sure his son knew he could count on him. And somewhere, somehow, he failed. And that’s not some sort of condemnation of him, because we’re all human and we’re not perfect, but that still doesn’t absolve him of his responsibility.

Booker tells that story like his experience is universal. Like it couldn’t happen any other way, and that’s just not true. It may be more likely in this fucked up world than anyone likes to think about, because no one can really escape life unscathed, but it’s not a guarantee that it will always be like that.

(PS: And also, while I adore the ‘found family’ trope that is executed so well in this movie, I will admit that the ‘they’ll die long before you do so there’s no point in making a connection at all’ bit that never really got rebuffed (the ‘don’t bother saving them it’s pointless’ did get rebuffed, and that was great, but not the more personal aspect) and in fact got subtly reinforced by Nile’s decision to cut ties with her family really bothers me.

Like, geez, hamster owners, better just abandon those little guys right now, they’re going to die way before you so better not get all attached. Advocate for their safety but don’t actually bond with them and love them and enjoy their company, because it’ll only end in misery. /sarcasm

What nonsense.)

#The Old Guard #Sebastian le Livre #(did I spell that right?) #meta #The Old Guard meta #Booker meta #should I tag this as #Booker critical #just in case? #idk it just gave me creepy vibes when I watched it #and on my second watch-through #I was just like 'omg they literally spelled it out for us' #Booker: my own family didn't trust me =( #Also Booker: -betrays his family- #hmm... #I wonder... if there isn't... a connection... here? #maybe?

[something-in-the-seas]

I make art sometimes, but not today.

#bioshock #bas critical #booker dewitt #elizabeth comstock #frank fontaine #robert lutece #rosalind lutece #andrew ryan #sander cohen #yi suchong #jack wynand #daisy fitzroy

[annihilatius]

As someone who hates Bioshock Infinite with all his heart, I kind of start to realize that this game would become absolutely unplayable if Rosalind and Robert Lutece didn't exist. I only really grew an appreciation for them once I painstakingly beat everything in the game. All the characters are either constantly reminding you of how racist they are entirely for shock value, or are all around completely insufferable people; depending on what disingenuous narrative the game wants to tell in that moment, it will either be shoved down your throat at every opportunity to remind you how BAAAD they are, or will be ignored and excused by lazy writing to act like they're actually a good person who's "trying to become better" when they never ever do. Oh yeah and theres this secret third trope where a character only exists as a racist caricature for the game to dehumanize and call slurs, but then say "oh but OBVIOUSLY the racism they face is bad!" After they literally kill them for no reason.

Rosalind and Robert Lutece are the only ones who don't fall into those categories. Every time they come on screen it feels like a breath of fresh air between all of the constant stream of bullshit. They're the only characters there to break the tension of the unbearably tone deaf centrist politics. I mean, judging by how this game has all the subtlety of a cannonball to the face, you can probably assume they're also just as racist as anyone else, but.. does it not *tell* you how awful this game is, that a character not screaming racial slurs 24/7 and actually having a character trait outside of being racist is something to be commended and rewarded as if it's some great impossible achievement? That a character that is actually funny and entertaining is the highlight of the entire experience? Meanwhile that was to be expected of every Bioshock character from previous games? Because all of them are all likeable in their own ways? That theres no one specific "highlight experience" for Bioshock 1 or 2 when all of the characters are so engaging and compelling? But with Bioshock Infinite it's ALWAYS them, because they are objectively the only well written characters in it?? Yeaaah..

#v.txt #bioshock #bioshit infinite #< new bioshock infinite criticism tag i came up with just now #i guess songbird kinda falls under this but it's generous to even call him a character #he's just a personality trait to make elizabeth (the most amazingest and bestest character to ever exist Btw) more interesting #also i do not respect people who see elizabeths and bookers relationship as the best part of the game because they either #1. just want to have sex with elizabeth (because who doesn't amiright... Sighs deeply) #or 2. ship elizabeth and booker but only on the most superficial level because they dont love each other in any meaningful way #this was kinda made in a fit of rage and it's also 4am so don't get mad at me if i made an ass of myself here...... #i just want to post my own thoughts more even if they might be stupid

[terresdebrume]

So I previously assigned Booker as Druid because of the rule of cool, though being the explosives specialist makes him a good candidate for Artificer also

BUT

I just realized

He's highly skilled (like everyone else in the Guard lbr) and distinguishes himself by his ability to use multiple methods to win a fight and get what he wants

You know what DND class is also a literal Jack of All Trades? Bards!

So I submit for your perusal

Bard Booker

#The Old Guard #Sebastien Le Livre #Booker #DND #Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk #I am not accepting criticism at this time :P #The rest of the guard goes: Barbarian Andy #Cleric Nicky #(With the Chef feat) #Fighter Joe #Paladin Nile #If you want to include Copley I'd make him a Rogue (Masterminde probably) #Which leaves Quynh... not sure what Class I'd give her but she's definitely a haunted one xD

[uwmspeccoll]

In Memoriam: Hilary Mantel

Today we learned of the passing of beloved author Dame Hilary Mantel. In memoriam, we are sharing a first edition copy of her celebrated novel Wolf Hall, which focuses on the life and career of Thomas Cromwell in the court of Henry VIII up to the execution of Anne Boleyn. Wolf Hall received both the Booker Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award and was published in 2009 by Fourth Estate. The sequel, Bring up the Bodies also received the Booker Prize and the third book in the trilogy, The Mirror & the Light, was longlisted for the same award. She wrote 9 other novels, 2 short story collections, a memoir, and essays and reviews for various outlets. Her work has also been developed for the stage and Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies were brought to life in a tv mini-series which aired on the BBC in the UK and PBS Masterpiece Theater in the United States (it is available for streaming through Amazon). 

Our copy of Wolf Hall is signed by Mantel, who used the last line of the book in her inscription: “Early September. Five days. Wolf Hall.” It is one of my favorite books, with the other books in this trilogy right up there with it. Mantel will be missed, but we will always have the work she has left behind as her legacy. 

-- Alice, Special Collections Department Manager

#Hilary Mantel #In Memoriam #Booker Prize #Wolf Hall #Bring Up the Bodies #The Mirror and the Light #Fourth Estate #4th Estate #PBS Masterpiece Theater #BBC #Thomas Cromwell #first edition #signed #National Book Critics Circle Award

[up-in-flames-writing]

To all the Netflix's Witcher fans angry over Cavill being replaced, I wish you all a big:

Fucking cope, losers 🤣

#booker speaks #booker is a petty lil bitch #twn critical #the witcher #all of poland rejoices #the evil has been vanquished!

[music-despite-everything]

Excerpt from Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

Never Let Me Go is a 2005 dystopian science fiction novel by British author Kazuo Ishiguro. It was shortlisted for the 2005 Booker Prize, for the 2006 Arthur C. Clarke Award, and for the 2005 National Book Critics Circle Award.

---

I found I was standing before acres of ploughed earth. There was a fence keeping me from stepping into the field, with two lines of barbed wire, and I could see how this fence and the cluster of three or four trees above me were the only things breaking the wind for miles. All along the fence, especially along the lower line of wire, all sorts of rubbish had caught and tangled. It was like the debris you get on a seashore: the wind must have carried some of it for miles and miles before finally coming up against these trees and these two lines of wire. Up in the branches of the trees, too, I could see, flapping about, torn plastic sheeting and bits of old carrier bags. That was the only time, as I stood there, looking at that strange rubbish, feeling the wind coming across those empty fields, that I started to imagine just a little fantasy thing, because this was Norfolk after all, and it was only a couple of weeks since I’d lost him. I was thinking about the rubbish, the flapping plastic in the branches, the shore-line of odd stuff caught along the fencing, and I half-closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I’d ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field, and gradually get larger until I’d see it was Tommy, and he’d wave, maybe even call. The fantasy never got beyond that – I didn’t let it – and though the tears rolled down my face, I wasn’t sobbing or out of control. I just waited a bit, then turned back to the car, to drive off to wherever it was I was supposed to be.

#prose #kazuo ishiguro #never let me go #dystopian science fiction #science fiction #booker prize #arthur c. clarke award #national book critics circle award

[wine-porn]

No hat, Plenty of Cattle

Green, grimy and spirited in the nose–rather shocking for me from a Paso #winebro favorite–but distinct vegetal Syrah ire packed throughout the bouquet. I don’t even know if it’s Syrah–I haven’t checked the label yet–and knowing the region, it’s fairly safe to assume a GSM of some sort but I’m *hoping*–for the redeeming of my palate–it is majority Syrah. Could be large chunks of Mourvedre in…

View On WordPress

#Best wine reviews #Booker #Booker Wines #Central Coast Critic #Central coast wine #Eric Jensen #GSM #Hospice du Rhone #Paso Robles #PAso westside #PAso westside wineries #Paso wine #Red blend #Rhone rangers #soif #Soif Wine Blog #Stephen McConnell #Stephen McConnell Wine Blog #Steve McConnell #Steve McConnell Wine Blog #Syrah #Vertigo #wine1percent

[obxsummer]

HEARTFIRST // JJ Maybank

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

warnings: mentions of abuse, sibling drama, nothing too drastic

request: heyy i have a fic idea! so i thought you could do a secret relationship jj x reader (john bs sis) and jj shows up at her window beaten up and she cleans him up and they go to bed; then he has a nightmare and wakes up screaming and JB sees how good they are for each other? idk if that makes sense hahaha!

navigation 

more from the SUBJECT TO CHANGE series

--

John B was pissed. Fuming. Ready to strangle his best friend of too many years for something so stupid. There had always been one rule since JJ Maybank and John Booker Routledge became best friends: you were off limits. Y/N Routledge was not to be flirted with, dated, looked at, or spoken to unless John B approved it. 

At first, it didn’t matter. Growing up as kids, John B had his friends and you had yours but once your dad dove headfirst into a treasure hunt, everything went to shit. Kiara’s Kook year had really screwed up your relationship, leaving JJ and Pope to fill in the gaps which pulled you closer and closer with your brother and his friends. You were teenagers then and everything felt so important and critical, even if it wasn’t. 

So when John B realized his best friend and his sister were together, there was nothing that could stop him from losing his shit on the two of you.

Met him at a party, accidentally brushed his body On the way to get a drink at the bar I couldn't wait 'til later, talking in the elevator Then we're kissing in the back of the car

The kegger idea had really sounded good at first; it was something to get your minds off your missing father, not to mention the sudden dead bodies popping up from the hurricane. None of it seemed too out of place for you, minus the newfound treasure hunting, but you were always up for a good party. 

“Where the hell did you find a keg on such short notice?” You asked JJ as the two of you hauled the large object down towards the Boneyard. You never really thought about how quickly JJ managed to find alcohol when it was for a party. It was common knowledge that he just knew where to go and how to do it. 

“Don’t you worry about that, Birdie. You know I’ve got my ways.”

The party was in full swing a few hours later. You’d spent most of your time with John B and Sarah before dipping to find the boy that seemed to be taking up most of your mind. JJ had been occupied with beer pong for a good portion of the last hour and you were determined to break him away.

That voice in my head says to slow down But it can't see the way you're looking at me right now It may not be next week, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

The drink in your hand sloshed over the rim of the cup as someone ran into your side in their drunken stumbling. JJ’s attention moved to you instantly. He’d always been so in tune with you and your presence but it only got stronger ever since your dad left. 

The previously occupied beat-up table full of red solo cups was left behind in trade for your company, JJ instantly taking your hand in his as he twirled you. He would give up so much to watch you smile like that every day. You deserved every bit of happiness that came to you because it certainly didn’t come often. 

Your laughter was infectious and JJ was drunk on it. He didn’t know who made the move or who threw the back door of the Twinkie open but shit, your skin was so soft and JJ just couldn’t stop kissing you. 

The line between friends and more slowly disappeared between you and JJ. At some point, your bed became his, and his clothes blended with yours. The thrill of hiding from the Pogues was exciting, sneaking moments when the two of you could to enjoy the one thing you had to yourselves.

JJ was everything to you and yet, it terrified you. You’ve never had a person to connect with in the way you did with him. The thought of your friends, of your brother, being pissed about what was going on was suffocating. What if this fucked up the group? What if JJ left you for someone else when he got bored? JJ was always quick to shut that idea down. 

“We’ve grown up together, Birdie. Kinda stupid of them to think something wasn’t gonna happen within the group at some point, right?” Which was always followed by: “You’re it for me. Now get outta that pretty little head and let me love on you.”

He had a point, but then again when JJ was pressing kisses down your neck, you never could think clearly.

Could be forever or we might break That's just the kind of risk that we take My head is yelling that I could get hurt But I'm gonna jump right in Baby, with my heart first

“You wanna tell them?” JJ’s voice was muffled as he spoke into the skin of your shoulder. The two of you were sitting on the porch of the Chateau, watching bemused as Kiara and Pope challenged Sarah and John B to an intense game of cards out on the dock. 

You sat beside the blond boy. To any observing eyes, it would just look like two friends having a civil conversation. To you, JJ’s hand was behind your back, fingers gently moving across the skin of your hip that wasn’t covered by the t-shirt over your swimsuit. 

“No.” Your answer didn’t have any anger or harshness behind it. You simply just loved having JJ all to yourself, with no judgment or prying eyes. No pressure to make it something neither of you wanted. It felt selfish to a point to keep something from your friends, from your brother. 

“Get out of your head.”

A smile made its way onto your face as you took the risk of leaning your head against JJ’s shoulder, tucking further into his side. JJ was so warm, his tan skin from constant surfing smooth against your cheek. It scared you sometimes, how comfortable everything was when it involved him. 

JJ’s heart skipped watching you be so relaxed, so vulnerable around him. He’d been so used to living on the edge and being tense for so long that it was so… vulnerable, so healing to have someone feel protected and safe enough to be by his side. 

Who knows what'll happen, ain't that always kinda magic When you don't know who's holding the cards Could be a wish I never knew ya or permanently tattoo ya Only the moon knows what's in the stars (what's in the stars)

You were pissed. You don’t know at what point John B thought he could parent you when the two of you were so close in age. Who was he after all this time to think he could boss you around?

“How long? How long has this been going on?” John B’s voice almost rattled the windows, echoing around the space surrounding you and JJ. The two of you stood there awkwardly like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. 

“Three months,” Your whisper was almost incoherent. Your eyes were trained on the ground, heart thumping in your chest so loud you figured JJ could probably hear it. This was the risk that came with not telling them, with keeping secrets amongst Pogues. God, there were so many stupid rules. 

John B’s hand slammed against the counter. “Three-Three months? God. I just…There was one rule. One fucking rule JJ. You promised!”

JJ visibly flinched at the anger in John B’s statement. That was true; JJ did promise John B he’d never get with you, never hurt you. All of that flew out the door the moment JJ saw you at that kegger. He had to risk it.

“I’m..I’m sorry, man! It just happened, okay? And-and we didn’t want to tell you guys because we didn’t want something like this to happen!”

“Well it’s happening,” John B scoffed with a shake of his head. The disappointment on his face was suffocating and you felt like you would burst into tears at any second. It wasn’t fair. Being forced apart when you knew you loved JJ? How is that fair?

John B shifted further into your line of vision. “Get the fuck out. Now. And don’t let me see you two near each other until I figure this out, got it?”

You looked up in a panic. “John B-”

“Do not argue with me right now. I don’t want to talk to you.” The look in your brother’s eyes left no room for argument. You’d never seen him this mad, especially toward you. 

JJ’s fingers squeezed your wrist lightly before he shuffled out the door behind you. The creaky hinges filled the room as you and John B stared at each other, waiting for the other to break. 

The fridge door popped open when your brother finally decided to move to grab a beer. Part of you wanted to run after JJ, to prove to John B that you didn’t have to listen to him. The problem was, you knew JJ respected your brother too much to let you do that for him. 

“You didn’t have to be so harsh on him,” You mumbled when you mustered up enough courage. John B tended to be… touch and go when he was angry. There was a risk of setting off another fuse if you didn’t watch what you said. 

As kids, JJ always picked on your brother for inheriting your dad’s temper. John B hated that it was true. To your relief, your brother let out a sigh and placed both of his hands on the counter. He felt instant regret watching JJ flinch at the noise level, knowing exactly what happened in the Maybank house when nobody else was around. “I know.” 

“I can’t tell you that I’m gonna stop being with him,” You admitted, holding your ground while you had the chance. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I respect your opinion a lot, Booker, but if it means staying away from JJ, I’ll learn to live without it.”

 It was a little more aggressive than you intended for it to be but it needed to be said. You moved through the kitchen to your room without another word. 

Mm, that voice in my head says to slow down But it can't feel your hands on my hips right now It may not be next year, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

JJ felt horrible for doing this. He knew he was playing with fire but as he pushed up your bedroom window, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He could deal with John B later. Right now, he really needed you. 

He was a little less than graceful stumbling through your window in the darkness, but he found his way eventually. You shifted awake from his rustled movements and caught a quick glance at his silhouette before turning to flick the light on. “JJ? What’s wrong? Do you need-”

“Nothin’. Sorry to wake you, Birdie. Just wanted to see you.” You could tell he was avoiding meeting your eyes as he kicked off his shoes. The coloration of bruising was beginning to show through his abdomen and you shook your head slightly. JJ didn’t like to explain when his dad treated him like this. He kept quiet and you didn’t push him because he would always talk when he wanted to about what happened. 

So, you turned the lights off and cuddled up next to him, hoping you would wake up before John B saw anything.

JJ didn’t always have nightmares when it came to his dad, but whatever happened was terrible enough that he did. Half the time they weren’t even about his dad hitting him; it always involved his dad hurting you. 

The blond’s sharp movements woke you up before the screaming did. You didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, his hands grasping your hips to hold as you settled across his lap. His shirt puddled on your thighs as he let his fingers drift across your bare skin above your pajama shorts. JJ tucked his face in your neck and just listened to your heartbeat, reassuring him that you were right here and you were safe.

John B couldn’t say he was pleased to be woken up at 5:00 in the morning. Even less so when the alarm clock involved screaming. It wasn’t your voice though, and he didn’t know if that was a relief or something to be worried about. 

You didn’t flinch when your brother threw your door open to reveal the sight within. You knew he could see the fact that the two of you were fully clothed and clearly, everything was okay… well, as okay as it could be. 

Eyes moving to look at John B, you prayed he wouldn’t say anything while JJ was so upset. To your surprise and gratitude, he didn’t. He stared at both of you for a moment as the realization settled in. The realization that you were old enough to make these decisions for yourself and as much as John B wanted to protect you, to protect you and JJ, he couldn’t keep you apart. 

John B gave you a small nod and mouthed to let him know if you or JJ needed anything. You gave him a forced smile back, a barely there ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you hugged your boyfriend tighter to your chest. 

As your bedroom door closed, you had this overwhelming sense of relief that maybe…maybe it would all work out after all. 

I gotta have ya, gotta see if this works I gotta have ya, wake up in your t-shirt I gotta have ya, diving in heart first

#obx3celebration #jj maybank #outer banks x reader #obx3 #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj outer banks #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank imagine #obx x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank series #stc series #routledge!reader #outer banks angst #jj maybank angst #outer banks netflix

[mirrorofliterature]

also like. do not tell me that andy would not also be furious at booker.

booker:

had nicky and joe kidnapped, her worst nightmare (particularly after quynh)

and nearly killed her

so like.

I bet the cafe was andy being like: whatever punishment you think is best. personally I think violence is key, but whatever you want!

nicky, catholic/ex-catholic and full of PENANCE IS KEY and cold rage after booker's betrayal 1) hurt joe and 2) nearly KILLED andy: exile for the rest of his existence :)

yusuf: you know that sounds reasonable

nile: isn't that a little untenable? he needs therapy. maybe an apology?

nicky and joe, acquiescing to a hundred years, but will also require a million apologies.

#the old guard #andromache the scythian #nicolo di genova #booker critical #booker #yusuf al kaysani #is this comprehensible? eh #rambles #nile freeman

[zvaigzdelasas]

Booker Prize-winning Indian author Arundhati Roy could be prosecuted for allegedly seditious comments made over a decade ago, after a top official in Delhi said there was enough evidence to lay charges.

Roy rose to international prominence for her novels, including 1997 Booker Prize winner “The God of Small Things,” but has also published two collections of political writing andlongbeen an outspoken critic of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi.[...]

Earlier this month, police in New Delhi raided the homes of prominent journalists linked to a left-leaning news organization known for its scrutiny of the Indian government. Police said they had arrested the outlet’s editor and a colleague as part of an ongoing investigation in connection with India’s Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act, or UAPA, an anti-terror law that critics describe as “draconian.”[...]

The case was filed in 2010 over comments Roy made at a conference on Kashmir called “Azadi – the Only Way Ahead” – “azadi” means freedom or liberation and is often used as a slogan for the Kashmiri independence movement.[...]

In her 2010 speech,posted online, Roy spoke about Kashmiri efforts to seek justice, in part for the mass exodus of Hindus from Muslim-majority Kashmir in the early 1990s amid increasing violence.

12 Oct 23

[absolutebl]

47 BLs Announced for 2024

Here are the BLs I have logged on the Spreadsheet of Doom (TM) as announced for 2024 (with supporting evidence, so not just options or acquisitions) as of the beginning of the year. Bold are the ones I'm most intrigued by .

JAPAN

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

From YTV releasing 1/11 about Soga, who, after a divorce and relocation to Osaka, seeks solace in dining at 26-year-old Sakae's restaurant. Unbeknownst to Soga, Sakae sees him as more than just a regular customer.

Ossan's Love Season 2

Five years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan, so probubly not. More here.

Perfect Propose

Fuji TV (the Pornographer series) adapting Mayo Tsurakame’s manga, production team includes Tadaaki Horai (My Love Mix-Up!) and Takeshi Miyamoto (scriptwriter for “Old Fashion Cupcake”). Hiro’s so stressed at work he barely has time to eat so he passes out on the sidewalk. An unfamiliar face saves him and insists that they once promised to marry each other.

KOREA

Love For Love's Sake

Based on the Manhwa Love Supremacy Zone by Hwacha, this will star actors Lee Tae Vin, Cha Jun Wan, Oh Min Su and Cha Woon Ki. The plot of the drama is based on Tae Myung Ha, a young man who is dropped into a game based off of a novel that he knows. His mission is to make another player, Cha Yeo Woon happy. Cha Yeo Woon is Myung-Has favourite character in the novel. But then the game starts going completely different from the novel.

Love in the Big City

Movie adaptation of Booker nominated famous coming of age novel ‘Love in The Big City’ by Park Sang-Young. A cynical yet fun loving student writer name Young pinballs from home, to class, to Tinder matches. He and Jaehee, his female best friend and roommate, frequent nearby bars where they push away their worries about life, love, and money with soju and Marlboros. But as time passes Jaehee settles down and leaves Young to face his problems on his own, finding comfort in the arms of the series of men, including one whose handsomeness is matched by his coldness and another who might be the great love of his life. Not really BL. To star Kim Go-eun (The King: Eternal Monarch), Noh Sang-hyun (aka Steve Sanghyun as Young) and Nam Yoon Su (The King’s Affection). More here.

TAIWAN

Anti Reset AKA Anti-Reset AKA Antireset

From Vidol to air on 2/2/2024 about a human and robot find love.

THAILAND

1000 Years Old

From Feel Good Bangkok this is one of many gay vampire BLs coming in 2024. Stars Shane (My Engineer) and fresh face Opal, directed by Champ (2gether). More here.

A Secretly Love

Khonprot, a third-year head hazer of the engineering faculty, has a secret crush on Pluem, a tsundere fourth-year head hazer. Over the years, he's seen Pluem cycle through many girlfriends. Recently, after a public breakup, however, Khonprot thinks things may be different.

Addicted Heroin (Thai version)

From the producers of Love Stage!!

Bad Guy My Boss

Assistant to a player boss who is in love with his boss decides to quit to save himself. The boos then makes a move. (A gay "What's up with Secretary Kim"?)

Born to be Y

announced 9/23

City of Stars AKA Fueangnakorn

Star Hunter started filming this 12/23 about an actor falls in love with a programmer and the narrative intends to “explore the ramifications of being public figure in the social network era who must endure critics, bullying, and defamation.” Looks like another Lovely Writer, Call It What You Want sort of thing.

Four Ever You Project AKA Fourever You Project

Sampler pack BL series from Wabi Sabi stars Bas (Gen Y), Earth (UWMA, 12%). Four stories, four couples, all adapted under the Fourever You Project.

I Saw You in My Dream

DeeHupHouse for WeTV based on the novel of the same name by Afterday. The story portrays Aya, a young man who has prophetic dreams. Everything he dreams always comes true. He doesn’t have a problem with it until he starts to dream of dating the guy next door. But the guy next door is in a serious relationship with a girl he’s known since high school.

Iridescent Love

Got nothing.

Harikarn Solution (the Chains of Heart people - boo) stars Gun (Khom in Unforgotten Night) opposite fresh face but cast includes familiar faces from other pulps. Ordinary office worker kinda recluse dork but who at night however, has an only fans account. Then he meets the guy next door.

Jack & Joker (YinWar)

DeHup brings us be gay, do crimes. Yin, War, Mark and a few other familiar faces doing Leverage but gayer. Yes, thank you, I will have that.

Kidnap

GMMTV Ohm Pawat is back but there is some question over whether this is BL or not.

Knock-Knock Boys

Kongthup for WeTV airing 4/2024 Four college friends who conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. stars Seng Wichai, Best Vittswin, Nokia Chinnawat and Jaonine Jiraphat.

Lost On The River

Another Sammon story

Love Sea (FortPeat)

MAME warning, stars same couple as LITA2, but new characters to the Mameverse. While travelling a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man.

Love Sick AKA Lovesick remake

Remake of the original. No thank you.

Love Upon a Time (NetJames)

Domundi announced for 6/7/2023 then delayed to 2024. NetJames in a historical BL! Also feat Tonnam(Dr Sing from Triage).

Lovely Addict

9NAA brings us a hotel set, high heat, features same pair as Venus In Sky.

Lover Merman

Fantasy BL about a man who falls in love with a merman.

Me and Who

Domundi for WeTV brings this adaptation of Wickedwish’s novel of the same name. it depicts a young man who dies and is reborn into the body of a billionaire heir. The heir happens to be engaged to a handsome man.

Monster Next Door

WeTV Adapted from the novel Godzilla Next Door by Jiwinil. It portrays an introvert who lives mostly in his room, until an extrovert moves in next door. He is loud, frantic and annoying. Do opposites really attract? Will they find a way to get along?

My Golden Blood

GMMTV. Okay, I do find Joss very watchable but this looks very bad and also very like Kissable Lips. But at least land is finally giving us the trashy gay vampires we richly deserve?

My Love Mix-Up Thai Remake (GemniForth)

GMMTV. Hum, well I do love this pair and I did like the original and maybe this time these characters will actually kiss? I'm actually fine with this pick-up. I kind of enjoy seeing different countries remake the same IP. Especially if it's IP I'm mostly unfazed by.

My Stand-In AKA My Stand In

Chinese IP ALERT! Adapted from the novel Professional Body Double (职业替身) by Shui Qiang Cheng (水千丞) stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please).

OMG Vampire AKA OMG! Vampire (LeeFrank)

Frank and Lee Long Shi are back only vampires now. So many vampires.

Only Boo!

New main pair in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks, grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, to become an idol baby boy can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.

Ossan‘s Love Thai Remake (EarthMix

Ugh, why?!?!

Red Peafowl

More Thai mafia stuffs.

Spare Me Your Mercy

Increased rates of deaths in terminal patients has a police captain investigating the palliative care doctor with whom he's fallen in love. Their relationship deepens but the mystery persists, driven by mistrust. Adapted from the novel Euthanasia by Sammon (Triage, Manner of Death) stars some old guard BL actors: Tor Thanapob from Hormones as the doctor and (fuck me YES) Jaylerr from Great Men Academy and goddamn Grean Fictions as the captain!

Spirit Reborn AKA Kemjira Will Survive

Star Hunter (of all studios) adapting supposedly the scariest BL. Khem is born cursed. A daughter would be safe but a son dies at 20 so Khem’s mother cleverly gives him a girl’s name, Khemjira “forever safe.” But Knem is baout to turn 20 and he doesn't think it's working so he seeks the help of a cursebreaker, turns out to be his great love from a prvious life.

Star Scope

Wabi Sabi trailer here. Looks sad, one of them is terminally ill, abandons his bf in high school them meet again in uni.

The Boy Next World (BossNoeul)

Same couple as LITA, this is the backstory of Cirrus & Phugun from TharnType 2 played by different actors.

The Hell Guards AKA Hey Don't Mess With My Heart

Boy wakes up from a coma and becomes a messenger between grim reapers and the underworld. Oh will it be... bureaucratic? I think it WILL.

The Hidden Moon

Casting happened 9/23. This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) ‘เดือนพราง’ by Violet Rain. A Bangkok writer is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai which is being converted into a café. He gets into an accident and nearly dies on his way there. After that, he sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, one boy catches his attention. Stars Benjamin Brasier (2 Moons 2) and Folk Touch Inthirat from Brothers. Trailer here.

The Next Prince (ZeeNew)

Domundi brings us more ZeeNew in a fantasy/historical set in a palace where Zee plays a knight and Nu a prince - FUCK YES PLEASE. I did not expect this pair to stick so I really hope this happens. Trailer here.

The Rebound (MeenPing)

VIU Basketball based romance staring Meen (a national basketball player, so yay for that).

The Trainee (OffGun)

GMMTV Office set, may not be BL. Trailer here.

Time the series

MFlow Entertainment for Gaga, WeTV, Channel 3 trailer here. Airs 1/9 After witnessing the death of his beloved Chris from a gunshot wound, the heartbroken actor Foam is given a pocket watch that allows him to go back in time and discover the truth… Can Foam take the chance to set things right and bring Chris back from the brink of death? Only time will tell…

To Be Continued

High school sweethearts who had a bad break up reunite when both of them have full times jobs but coming out is still a problem. Trailer here.

Vampire Project (BounPrem)

Wabi Sabi's My Broccoli only now... vampires.

Wandee Godday

GMMTV and AllThis Entertainment producing a very pulp offering for GMMTV with new pair GreatInn doing high heat Boxer meets surgeon. It features a one night stand, fake relationship, and all the cheesiest of tropes. Also features Drake, Podd, and Thor+ pretty boy (be still my heart). This is totally my kind of BL even if it actually isn't GMMTV's style of BL, so I'm intrigued. Trailer here.

We Are (PondPhuwin)

GMMTV's university friendship Bl featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawin - basically ALL in the good kind of messy friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is gay. I'm IN! Trailer here.

A reminder we had c. 136 BLs release in 2023 but c. 55 that did not get made.

That seems about right.

Of those announced we seem to get about 2/3 actually released for the year we are told they'll release in.

(source)

#all the BLs announced for 2024 #that i could track down

[vvatchword]

In Defense of BioShock Infinite

Although I had preordered BioShock Infinite with all its bells and whistles, I did not actually play it until January 2023. And lordy, I had me another Experience with a capital E. How the hell a bunch of urban Yanks could capture my experience as a queer democratic-socialist atheist struggling with her roots as a rural evangelical-cum-fascist is kinda magical, honestly. As to the game itself, it didn’t hurt how good it looked—the kickass skyhook gun battles—that novel setting—the complex characters—that delicious historical setting—that bloodthirsty critique of America—and to top it all off, they had pulled yet another Cassandra. Hell, speaking of which—not only was the game fun, it was fucking smart. It was intelligent, memorable, and meaningful in a way I hadn’t experienced in video games for years.

Now, back in 2013, when I had realized that I would be spoiled for Infinite, I left the BioShock fandom. After completing the game, I headed to Tumblr to re-engage, wagging my whole body like an excitable golden retriever, only to discover that BioShock Infinite was remarkably absent, and when mentioned, brutally derided. 

“I hate BioShock Infinite and all my friends do, too,” someone said in the tags under a post. 

I was utterly befuddled and deeply sad. I wanted to talk about BioShock Infinite! I wanted to dig into it, uncover unexpected ideas, learn new things, talk shit, make new friends—the full fandom experience. And instead I kept stumbling into hateful diatribes and super-charged disgust.

Obviously, I first looked at myself and my own judgment. Had I missed some obvious problem or misread some theme or dialogue? This wouldn’t be the first time I’d snapped down on a hook. But the more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

There are two parts of BioShock Infinite that are unquestionably terrible: the fridging of Daisy Fitzroy and the false equivalence of violence between haves and have-nots (lol what are the have-nots supposed to do, ask nicely?). Additionally, one could look at the use of real Native American tragedies as tasteless. Personally, I do not—in the same way that I don’t find it tasteless that real war victims were used as inspiration for Splicer deformities. This is what really happened; this is commentary on events that really happened to real people. 

At this point, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why two of these themes are Unequivocally Bad. 

Anyway, I thought that perhaps these were the reasons BSI had been condemned to Super Hell.

I was wrong.

How Criitcsim Werk

This wasn’t the fandom I’d made friends in over 2010. Hell, this wasn’t the fandom of 2013. This was a fandom made up of Babies. They were making their first coltish stumblings into media criticism and with it, dredging up the same brain-dead bullshit from Tumblr circa 2008.

Suddenly I was brought face to face with people who seemed to think that if a character couldn’t be likable or good that the story itself couldn’t be likable or good; that one bad element means the story is unsalvageable (lol u pussies); the implication that one is bad for liking it; the destructive juvenile insistence that media accurately measures its fans’ moral qualities en masse like an astrological sign. This goes far beyond simple like or dislike and plunges head-first into Puritanism: praying loudly on street-corners instead of quietly in a dark corner where God might hear you.

At one point I had a kid go off about how they wouldn’t take time to understand Booker DeWitt’s perspective because he had (fictionally) taken part in a genocide. (That same person said the Native American element had been employed for shock value, a thought that sometimes keeps me up at night, because it is legitimately one of the dumbest criticisms the game has ever received.) At another point I saw someone acting personally offended that (fictional person) Dr. Suchong’s (fictional) data was being stolen (in a fiction) by a (fictional) racist who would (fictionally) take credit for (fictional person) Suchong’s (fictional) inventions “while calling him slurs”. Sure, a better question would have been, “Why would the creative team opt to do this” rather than assume intentional racism from a Jewish creative director with an in-office multi-ethnic team in the year of our lord 2013, but why not handwave the choice with prurient moral dismay so your audience won’t beat you to death with bats? 

It was as though fans were treating these completely fictional characters as real people whose personal gods had opted to torment them, and that their tormentors merited the kind of censure that psychopaths should receive. As I hope all of you understand, this is fucking madness.

More than once I saw people posting about hating the studio or the creative director in ways that seemed intense, unreasoning, and excessive—notably an “I Hate [Irrational Games creative director] Ken Levine” stamp (rofl the more things change amirite). People get so performatively moralistic about it that I started wondering if I missed something big along the way. Was there some secret Voxophone I missed swearing fealty to baby Hitler or some shit?

Double Standards

At the same time, I was utterly confused. BioShocks 1 and 2 both featured some absolutely ghastly bullshit based on real-life horrors and a thick mix of complicated human beings—many of them victims who have become monsters. The fact they are grounded in historical tragedies is a huge part of their appeal. Hell, I don’t think those games would have had half their meaning without World Wars I and II and the threat of a third.

A gay man who feels so cursed by his orientation that he is incapable of intimacy and systematically destroys his ex-lovers—including the man he loves the most. A Korean who survived Japanese occupation and a Jewish Holocaust survivor repeat the violence and traumas exacted upon them and their people, subjecting a new generation to agonies unthinkable. Chasing the shadows of Bolsheviks, a Russian citizen becomes the brutal tyrant that he loathed. A rich lawyer with an easygoing drawl designs a concentration camp and systematically harvests hundreds, if not thousands of political prisoners, selling them out to medical testing for a quick buck.

But a Native man who destroys his own people and class to ensure his own survival and social acceptability is too far? This character is where people drew the line, so much so that the entire game is disavowed? Hell, if you’re just talking about Booker (rather than Comstock), he doesn’t have anywhere near the largest bodycount. If we were to judge on the metric of human misery alone, Booker wouldn’t even hit the top ten. 

Keep in mind that the most-discussed BioShock game on Tumblr is BioShock 2, and that one of the biggest fandom favorites is Augustus Sinclair—the easy-talkin’ Georgia lawyer who sells your character into horrors past all human comprehension, as he sold hundreds before and after you. Sinclair is a motherfucker so vile that BioShock 2 gives you no choice but to murder him. But Sinclair is also pleasant; good-looking to some; spends the whole game making sweet love to your ear; is one of the only true positive experiences you experience in a horror story. Unlike DeWitt, a man who is brutal and awful from step one, Sinclair is smooth and sweet. Unlike DeWitt, Sinclair’s victims are faceless, completely fictional, and carry no political or social baggage.

People fuckin’ ship this guy with Subject Delta, his explicit victim. He’s usually described as a squishy cinnamon roll. In most fanfiction, he often gets to escape to the surface and fuck Delta while helping raise Eleanor as Dad 2. It is rare that I find fanfiction that acknowledges his monsterhood in all its glory. In fact, I can only think of two.

Literacy Comes in Levels

My problem with the over-the-top hatred of BioShock Infinite is along the same lines as my confusion at Twilight and Harry Potter hate: there is so much worse out there (how much do the haters actually engage with media if they think this is that bad—yes, even considering the shitty creators themselves!), the hatred far outweighs the sin committed (in BioShock’s case, the truly bad bits are not central enough to derail the larger narrative), people don’t seem to hate it so much as they want to be seen hating it, fans want to enforce an unspoken rule hating it (bitches this is poison. Stop this), and there’s something about the hate that stinks of poor reading comprehension.

A great metric for general literacy is the newspaper. In journalism, you’re writing for the lowest-common denominator, which for years here in the USA has been about a fifth-grade reading level (about 10-11 years old, for my non-American readers). The AP posted an article a couple years back about how the general reading comprehension of Americans needs to be dropped to a third-grade one (8-9 years), and baby, I’m here to say it’s true. 

Most of the problem is that the American education system is shitty as fuck. The rest of it is from an extremely American disdain of intellectualism and the arts. People are not taught how to interpret art or literature—a difficult and subtle skill which involves accepting such truths as “multiple contradictory readings can exist and yet be simultaneously correct”, “the author can be a complete tool and still be right about things”, “the author can be a great person and still write horrifyingly incorrect bullshit”, and “worthwhile works can be ridiculously long and it really is your fault for not having an attention span”. 

Media criticism must be learned through trial, error, asking questions, confidently swaggering into a public space to announce your brilliant insight only to have your ass handed to you (usually by your older self ten years later), being willing to admit you swaggered confidently into a public space to state bullshit and then amending your bullshit only to produce more bullshit, and otherwise making a complete and utter cock of yourself. We are taught to fear and flee pain and failure, despite the fact this is how we learn and improve. Because we judge our value by whether or not we are “smart,” we are afraid of displaying that we don’t know something or might be mistaken–better not to try at all than to reveal ourselves to be fools. And yet the best way to learn is to crash up against someone else and be proven wrong!

American parents are terrified of hurting their children to the point that they spare them cognitive dissonance of any kind, disavowing difficult art—without any appreciation for the fact that art is how we provide safe spaces to explore key human experiences, better preparing us to face those difficult subjects when there are real-world consequences (sex, gender and social expression, grief, violence, predation, illness, interacting with people of different ideologies, whatever new issue is pissing off some smooth-brained old motherfucker somewhere). 

If parents and teachers aren’t teaching us how to interpret art, we’re probably never going to develop the skill at all, or crash unsubtly into it in a piecemeal fashion (hello it me). Another unfortunate side effect is that these readers tend to be blitheringly superficial: they are literally intellectually incapable of reading deeper than the uppermost layer of a text. The curtains are always blue.

And let’s not forget the role moral performatism plays in media criticism, which although faaar from new, has reached hilarious levels in the age of social media. What’s important isn’t understanding something, it’s finding something to symbolically burn at the stake so everyone knows God loves us: please keep loving me, please don’t hurt me, please don’t throw me on the fire—for performatism is not for outsiders. We long for human connection so fucking much that it’s more important to destroy what might point out our fallibilities than it is to let ourselves stand in the furnace and burn out the dross.

What do you think the point of BioShock Infinite was?

Emotional Machines

Let’s face it. Human beings give a lot more credence to how something makes them feel than they do its complex invisible reality. We are not logical creatures; we are emotional ones. Our logic is too new a biological mechanism to override something as powerfully stupid as our primal lizard brains.

Knowing this, let’s take BioShock’s most popular characters. The first two are Subject Delta and Jack Wynand, the protagonists of BioShocks 2 and 1, respectively; and why not? They’re the characters we play. In the first two BioShocks, whether or not you kill Little Sisters determines the ending you receive. In other words, Delta and Jack can only be as “wicked” as the players are. 

How do people want to see themselves? As good. What do people want to see around themselves? Good. (What is “good”? Uh, well,,,,,,) What do they want? Simple moral questions with simple moral answers. And in the first two BioShocks, what is moral is obvious: don’t kill little girls. It’s actually kind of insulting once you say it out loud.

In-fandom, Jack and Subject Delta are almost never painted as murderers or monsters, but as victims and heroes; I saw someone musing about putting Subject Delta on a “gentle giants” poll and I nearly choked on my own tongue. I only saw that musing because someone put Subject Delta and Jack in a “Best Fathers” poll. Nobody in-fandom really considers the “evil” or “complicated” endings as canon choices, despite those versions being fully understandable alternate readings, with a story that doesn’t make sense without them. (I don’t believe Burial at Sea is necessarily canon; in fact, I would bet good money that it is a huge middle finger lol, mostly because a number of brain-dead motherfuckers won’t take unhappiness for an answer.)

Most fandom art and writing is gentle, sweet, good: the symbolic healing of the damaged, the salvation of innocents, the turning of new leaves. These things are not just saccharine sweet—they tend to be unrealistically sweet. Now, far be it from me to demand these works cease. There’s a reason they exist. People write them because they need hope and happiness; I have enjoyed them greatly myself and intend to enjoy them in the future. But if y’all get to have your dessert, I demand the right to have my dinner.

The Colours Out of Earth

Let there be media where the opposite can also be true: where everything is unbelievably complicated and unforgivably fucked-up. Let there be characters who slide slurs into their speech without thinking. Let there be characters who destroy themselves in a thousand different ways, not all of them obvious, some of them horrifying. Let there be well-meaning people struggling with all their mights to do what is right only to destroy everyone around them and then completely miss the fact it’s all their faults. Let there be wickedness painted as goodness, superficial appearances accepted over essential and inherent values, denial of change and transformation, failure to accept that what is old must die and what is new must live, human stupidity and short-sightedness and cruelty in all their flavors. Let’s smash it all together and see how it plays out. 

Oh, badly? No shit! But “badly” isn’t the point. How does it play out?

Let there be a world of gradients—a place I can float from color to color, hue to hue, value to value, while attempting to figure out where, why, how, and by whom they transform—to taste concepts in a hundred different ways, test their textures by a hundred different mediums, insert them into a hundred different contexts. I need to understand why I feel the way I do; I need to understand morality in all its hideous, fragmentary glory. For I have been sold to a ideology of blacks and whites, and let me tell you: it prepares you for nothing, and it will always destroy what is most precious about human life.

I can no longer believe in a world where what is lost always returns, because that world does not exist. I have a reflexive need to come to terms with Finality: what I have lost, what I have destroyed, what will never return, what will never be better. I have a reflexive need to understand Transformation: what I am now, what is as of the present, what has risen shambling from the ashes, what turns to gaze upon me in the darkness. I need to understand what is wretched about me as much as I need to heal myself. How can I heal if I can’t understand how I have hurt and been hurt? 

I need to shine a light in the dark. Not to remodel it, not to destroy it—because I also can’t believe in a world where the wicked is destroyed forever—but to behold it, to learn from it, to view my own impact upon it, to accept how it has become a part of me, to learn how to do my best (because that’s all one can do). I must learn to love people more than causes, I must learn to love people rather than the act of winning, I must learn to love people rather than battle. I need to stand in that endless black with the lamp off and my eyes closed, letting the agony roll over me, burning with a fire that throws no light, rolling back and forth from an intense self-loathing to a fury at a society that destroys what is most valuable because it didn’t make them feel the way they wanted.

The Unforgivable

I believe that there are only two differences between Booker DeWitt and his equally cursed cohorts.

In the Hall of Whores: The Unmarked Slate

First, unlike the previous two games, where you enter the world as a tabula rasa and might roleplay as what you perceive as a good person, you are explicitly put into the shoes of a monster, and nothing you do can save you.

With other shitty BioShock characters, you are passively watching other people, and you are able to hold yourself apart. Sure, everyone else is crazy as fuck from using biological Kryptonite, but you’re too smart to end up a crazy fucking asshole like them! Sure, you are now technically a mass murderer, but those fuckers deserved it, damn it! 

“Look at this crazy bastard!” you say, rolling your eyes at the Steinmans and Cohens and Ryans and Fontaines. “It sure is a great thing I’m not a crazy bastard!”

You are able to escape acknowledging that you, too, in certain circumstances, might be the crazy bastard. You are being challenged to stand in the body of a person who has committed unforgivable sins. Imagine if you yourself committed those sins. Imagine what sins you have already committed. Imagine what brutalities you cannot take back. Imagine what horrors you have wreaked just by breathing.

“Ahhhh!” said players, probably. “What do you mean I’m not allowed to be good?”

Because that’s what the game was designed to do. Because “good” is a fucking cop-out and if it’s how you live with yourself wait until you find out you’ve been doing horrifying bullshit all your life without question. You can be evil by association through no fault of your own.

Original Sin

Second, the plight of Native Americans is a sin that non-Natives will always carry, and the socially conscious are aware of this even if they don’t know how to put it into words. The state of affairs being what it is, it is unlikely that First Peoples will ever be treated humanely, much less have their land returned. They must struggle for scraps of what is rightfully theirs while we lounge on their corpses. We cannot help but benefit from their destruction; we are made unwitting partners with our forebears; we steal the fruits of their lands and make mockeries of their faiths and identities. We have destroyed part of what made this world fascinating and unique and most of it can never be returned. Even if everything were to be made right tomorrow, their genocide is a sin that we will carry until we die, because the only reason we could be here at all is because they were killed. 

The obvious solution stands before us, but the powers that be are so much greater than we that we are effectively powerless, and achieving anything less than total restoration smacks of anticlimax. 

This is unbearable.

How can one think of oneself as a good person if one sees the good that must be done, but cannot achieve it? If one’s actions are meaningless? Goodness without action is pretension.

We are all Booker DeWitt. We have all set fire to the tipi. We swept the ashes away, we ignored the sizes of the bones, we built a CVS on their graves, and then we made statues and holidays commemorating Native Americans like the world’s cheapest “Thinking of You” card. We have de-fanged them, transformed them into cardboard cutouts, and set them up as cute little side characters in our sweeping American dream.

Booker is not a man. Booker is America and Americans—and America and Americans are monstrous: one part hypocrisy, two parts incessant violence, three parts constant peacocking, and four parts dumb as a stump.

The Monsters We Make

Outside of the message about “choice,” an enormous part of BioShock’s thematic ensemble is the creation of monsters. How are monsters created? Who or what is responsible for creating them? What do the monsters think made them the ways they are? Can a monster be saved? How? Is it enough to acknowledge you did wrong and want to be a better person?

Maybe most people are aware on some instinctive level of what facing one’s own monsterhood means. No one wants it. It’s not fun. It hurts. It’s embarrassing. It’s destructive. It’s admitting you don’t have it all together and might never, ever—that despite your best actions, you can have it horribly wrong at any point. In an age where we demand moral perfection, it demands vulnerability: you must admit that sometimes you’re the racist, the transphobe, the sexist, the nationalist, the classist, the homophobe, the violent, the wrong, the dumbfuck. 

Human beings are not built to be moral; human beings are built to survive. We so rapidly learn how to deal with our contexts at such young ages that we don’t have the time or capabilities to question why those contexts are the ways they are or why it is demanded we perform the ways we do.

In a very real way, BioShock Infinite demands vulnerability of us. It demands you look in the mirror and see what is monstrous in you—how you have been created—manufactured—a tool, a machine, a trained animal. It asks you to recognize that you can be a monster simply by association. And if we can’t look into the mirror and truly acknowledge that monsterhood, we run very real risks of becoming or enabling those monsters in one way or another.

Worst of all: perhaps monsterhood isn’t optional. Perhaps the monster was inside of us from the very beginning. It’s not a matter of if you become a monster, but when, under what circumstances, by whose hand. What is more, believing the “right” moral stances will not save you. Monsterhood can afflict anyone, in any ideology, any political stance, in any social movement, in any faith. The only element that can save you is to truly love other people, and even then, you can fail, for there can be states where there is no winner and ways to misread how best to treat another person.

Environment and Society: Context Will Not Be Denied

BioShock 1’s original ending is Jack-as-monster, regardless of how many children he saves, regardless of your feelings as player. He passes through the gauntlet of Rapture, but he has supped of its poison. And he wasn’t poisoned when he entered Rapture the second time—he was poisoned the minute he was conceived. He was born of it. He had no hope of ever escaping it—he never could have—he’d never had a choice to begin with.

No matter what choices you make in BioShock Infinite, Elizabeth will always kill you. Why? Because she has seen every world—every context—every limitation—every boon. And there is no way to stop what has been; there is no way to undo what has been done. The minute you have committed to a decision, you have split the universe; there is no telling what kind of person it will make you. In fact, there’s no telling which of your decisions will matter at all. Only Elizabeth can see because she is the unlimited future: your offspring stands before you, judge and jury, and you will have no choice but to accept her verdict, for despite your name, you are incapable of controlling how you are interpreted. 

Elizabeth sits across from you in the boat and stares without blinking. She sees a million million similar Bookers. Some are a little bit taller, some a little bit shorter, some a little heavier or lighter. Some more-resemble one grandparent or another. They have different colored ties. This one blinks when rain hits him in the eyeball. That one took a brutal beating back on the airship and one eye is swollen shut. That one can’t stop shaking; this one is unable to speak at all; one hasn’t yet lost hope, although even he doesn’t realize it.

They all lowered the torch to the tipi.

The baptism determined Comstock; what determined Booker?

Why Booker Is

In BioShock 1, characters are often stand-ins for larger concepts. Thus Ryan stands in as Ayn Rand’s Objectivist Ubermensch; Bill McDonagh as Andrew Ryan’s conscience; Diane McClintock as the citizenry of Rapture; Captain Sullivan as law and order; Frank Fontaine as the truest expression of Objectivism in its distilled form.

Who is Booker? Most importantly: why is he?

Booker is a fictional character with a brutal background based on historical events, alternative and true. Booker might be Lakota; Booker might have undergone forced Anglicization; Booker might have been ripped from his parents; Booker is a product of violence, perhaps literally. Booker is American exceptionalism distilled. Booker is the past in constant judgment of itself, unable to live with itself and unable to die. Booker destroys what is best in him and around him in exchange for belonging. Booker has sold the future to absolve his sins. Booker has sold his daughter because he is a fictional character in a work of fiction who needs to be propelled.

Booker is a shell, a sluice, an environment. Booker is the broken shape you are meant to fill, horrified. His internal shape should torture you as it has tortured him: the messy slaggy soul of a shitty tin soldier.

Does Booker take the baptism and become Comstock? If so, it might be his second one. His last name literally means “the white.” His first name can mean “author.” It is most likely his second name: an attempt to rewrite himself. And when he was unable to rewrite himself the first time, when the cognitive dissonance boiled at the edges of his skull, he found there was only one way to cleanse himself the second: to remake the world entirely. To force transformation on everyone else. To take vengeance on a world that could never love him, never want him—to create a world that has no choice but to love him. If he can’t change the world’s mind, he’ll change the world.

Note what he opts to do: to take the fight to the environment–to the unyielding universe.

Context Is Everything

It is no mistake that BioShock Infinite occurs in 1912: the sinking of the Titanic is often credited with ending an unfettered optimism, a period when the Western world believed technology had brought the human race into a golden age. With World War I—which would follow a mere two years later—came modern warfare and all the horrors thereof, not the least of which was the realization that humans had created a kind of war that could destroy the entire world. World War I also seeded the rise of the United States: much of the wealth of warring Europe—itself fat on the blood of subjugated peoples and stolen lands—would rattle into America’s coffers.

It is also no mistake that BioShock 1 directly follows World War II. With WWII came a heightened terror—that this war is not the last war, that there will never be an end to war, that war will go on expanding and expanding until it has consumed us all. World War III would not be denied: prettily packaged in the ideals of its children, it simply followed the utopians down to their underwater tombs. According to BioShock 1’s original ending, World War III is not a matter of if—it’s a matter of when.

But even more important than the history in the BioShock games are their settings. Mute leviathans, Rapture and Columbia determine all of your behaviors: from where you can exist in space to all of your desires and goals to how you choose to present yourself to how you opt to behave. Isolated in extremism—whether that extremism is the crushing depths of the ocean or the unbearable lightness of the air—most of their power is that they simply cannot be escaped. You can’t outrun them. They are everywhere. They are everything.

Like Lovecraft before it, BioShock acknowledges the greatest horror of all: you cannot escape your context. Your context does not only involve your immediate surroundings. It is also historical; contains zeitgeists from various cultures and subcultures; is filled with pressures both personal and impersonal, human and nonhuman. Many of these forces can hurt you. Many more can destroy you. What you do to survive depends very much on where, when, and with whom you must live.

Human beings are not built to be moral.

The Death of the Future

In the film Operation, Burma!, a soldier asks Errol Flynn: “Who were you before the war?”

“An architect,” says Flynn.

Who were you? Because that “you” doesn’t matter now. That “you” is irrelevant. So you’re an architect. What the war does to you; what these deaths mean to you; your past, your education, your loves and desires and forward motivation, the you that could have been outside war, the you that slogs alone into the brutal future—all completely irrelevant. Your forebears don’t care so long as you can bleed. 

Children are the manufactured tools of their creators—helpless before the enormous strength of their elders and the zeitgeists that enclose them, poisoned by their parents’ insecurities and flaws, utilized like weapons regardless of the cost—often with great love.

Consider something more than the traumatized culture: consider the society filled with traumatized children; consider the traumatized society. Consider channeling children through that trauma over and over and over again, if you can. Poisoned—poisoned—poisoned—all of us poisoned. Poisoned by those who loved us most. Poisoned by the people we trusted. Poisoned by the people who meant to make a better world.

I believe it is notable that creative director Ken Levine is Jewish; I have read from multiple accounts that the European Jewish diaspora was uniquely traumatized from the Holocaust and passed that trauma down upon their own families. I sometimes wonder if he saw that firsthand.

The fathers eat sour grapes; their children’s teeth are set on edge.

Choice: Player Expectations and Entitlement

For players who experienced BioShocks 1 and 2 with their multiple endings (Good, Bad, and “ok bye then I guess” respectively), it must have been jarring to suddenly reckon with being a monster. How often I see players grousing that nothing they do will change their wicked pasts! These players completely miss that the only meaningful choice had already been made, that it had nothing to do with the player at all, and even if they had been there, DeWitt was still unforgivable. The only way to go on was to bow out and allow the future to redefine herself.

Nobody was ready for that shit. 

Like it or not, BioShock 1 had set a precedent. Not everyone’s going to read up on creator intentions. If any keyword came blaring through the noise, it would have been “choice.” Most players only recognize choice by the ability to make it, not the absence of it, and most of them weren’t equipped to recognize that its lack was the point. The meaningless choices were commentary, and they were as much about the player as they were about DeWitt himself. Not every choice will be meaningful, will it? And there will be choices you make that will be momentous, but they will seem very small when you make them.

Because most players had experienced what they thought was a basic moralistic tale in the first two games, and would see Infinite not as reflection upon America’s destructive personality, its obsession with a meaningless Good/Bad duocracy, and the infinite, cyclical nature of violence, they saw Booker’s death as corrupted artsy claptrap.

“I did the good schuut,” they say. “I want the good schuut end. Where happy end??? Where treat :(”

Bitch the future is here. 

Time to die.

It’s Not Me, It’s You

Generally I despise essays that end with, “But the real fault lay with the clueless motherfuckers who played the game!” Often, if enough people complain, there’s something to it; the message has been obscured somehow. Details or explanations weren’t clear or intuitive enough, some mechanism isn’t working somewhere, some character needs to talk more or less, some setting needs to be transformed. O artist: stop whining and get cracking. If everywhere you go smells like shit, it’s time to look under your shoe. 

But sometimes it’s true that a piece of media is on a level folks aren’t equipped for. Think of every literature and art class you’ve ever had, if you’ve been fortunate enough to have one. There’s always someone scoffing in a back row, like here are all these jokers making more of something than they should. Similarly, some of you have been arguing with me this entire time, saying: “I just wanted a video game. I just wanted to shoot something and feel better and instead I get this bullshit ending that makes no sense.”

First of all, smart bullshit (and even fucked-up attempts at smart bullshit! Hi BioShock 2) gets to exist on this Earth along with Gmod and Roblox or Schuut Big Tits 84 (there are 84 tits and you must shoot them all. They explode into smaller tits) or whatever-the-fuck-else you think is a worthwhile gaming experience. Second of all, miserable bullshit also gets to exist, and what did you fucking expect if you played through either BioShocks 1 or 2? When you hear a football player quavering out in the darkness for his mom to pick him up, how’d that make you feel? What did you think was going to happen to Jack after pounding back the entire Plasmid library, the cancer cocktail that explicitly destroys the fuck out of its users? Third of all, if you missed the smart bullshit going on in BioShock 1 and didn’t think BioShock Infinite might be larger in scope in more ways than one, that’s on you. Fourthly, if you were simply satisfied with saving like, 15 kids from a violently-perishing city of thousands and call it good, I mean… is that really where your thoughts end? Are you really that fucking small?

It’s Not You, It’s Me

You ever meet those motherfuckers who talk shit about Shakespeare or modern art? And you’re just left there staring with dead eyes at this poseur who mistakes playing devil’s advocate for intelligence, cheek resting on your fist, thinking about the fanfic you’re writing, wondering who it’s for, remembering that all your smut-writing friends get ten times the viewers, and considering throwing yourself in front of a bus.

Yeah, there’s a personal element to this: the fact that BioShock Infinite is the kind of art I like and long for and want to make myself, the fact that the game was successful and yet the studio was closed, the way its DLC was so rushed that the story plopped out like half-baked mystery meat—realizing that the same forced rush was at 2K’s behest for BioShock 2, as well, and wondering how good art can ever be made in this unforgiving capitalist hellscape. The game was weirdly niche and I’m not 100% sure I’ll ever experience anything quite like it again. And with the whiners in this fandom, the loud ones controlling the narrative, some fresh brain-dead exec in some brain-dead publisher might be like: “We must keep it safer and simpler for these fuckin babby adult!”

Nah bitch nah. Naaaah. Cry some more while I enjoy me my fucking dinner. I’ll eat it while making loud smacking noises and keeping unbroken eye contact. Come here. Let’s look at each other. It’ll be like Lady and the Tramp but we want to punch each other. What truer form of love can there be here in the modern world?

I keep having to remind myself that this response isn’t new. I keep having to remind myself of my place. I keep having to remind myself why I write, why I read, why I like to experience art to begin with. It’s not for the reasons other people do it. Oh, I want the same emotional release as everyone else, I want the same rollicking plots, I adore the same tropes. I seek out everything and anything for a good time; I’ll read Moby Dick today and a smutty 5,000-word abortion with the world’s most suspect grammar tomorrow. I don’t give a shit if it’s low- or high-brow; there are all kinds of ways to have fun and there are all kinds of ways to engage with art, and lord knows I’ve done my share of smooth-brain criticism. The problem is that I’ve always wandered off by myself, sunk into an all-consuming reverie, on tracks that no one else ever seems to be on, and then looked up to talk excitedly about something only to realize I’m alone. And whose fault is that?

By the same token, maybe I haven’t talked enough. Maybe I spend too much time with my mouth shut. Maybe I haven’t stood up enough for things that are worth our time, worth talking up, worth setting on pedestals.

I tell you, BioShock Infinite will stand the test of time. It’s too good for this. It’s too good for you, warts and all. Some of you will grow to understand that; some of you won’t; many of you will shrug and go on with your lives (and this is fine; it is only a video game). But I’ve truly not seen anything like it. I can’t believe a mainstream video game was allowed to be so fucking brutal about the American juggernaut, and what’s more, that it sold like hotcakes. Plus, I can’t think of any works in recent memory that have struck me so close to my own heart. No creative work has made me start beating a monster’s face into a washbasin for ten hours only to lift her by the scalp and see my own eyes looking back.

Look into those eyes. See your own stupid impulses pouring out. Your own stupid excuses, your violences, your sins—your claws, your teeth, your costumes, your hilarious attempts at interpretive dance. The beast doth protest too much.

O, monster—behold thyself—and tremble.

#bioshock #bioshock 2 #bioshock infinite #bioshock infinite burial at sea #booker dewitt #subject delta #jack wynand #augustus sinclair #essays #video games #spoilers #vvatchword #vvbsreceipts

[wrishwrosh]

re: tags on labor in historical fiction post, would be very interested to hear what the four examples you mentioned are!!

ok u know what that tag WAS bait, thank you for taking it. technically speaking these aren't works dealing strictly with labor in historical fiction, they are my four treasured examples of BUREAUCRAT FICTION (so not NOT about labor in history?) i was gonna try to make this post pithy and short but then i remembered how extremely passionate i am about this microgenre i made up. so sorry.

bureaucrat fiction is not limited by genre or format but criteria for inclusion are as follows: long and detour-filled story about functionary on the outside of society finding unexpected success within a ponderously large and powerful System/exploring themes of class and physicality and work and autonomy and what it means to hold power over others beneath the heartless crushing wheels of empire/sad little man does paperwork. also typically long as hell. should include at least one scene where the protagonist is unironically applauded-perhaps for the first time in their life-for filling out a form really good. without further ado:

soldier's heart by alex51324. the bureaucracy: british army medical corps during wwi. the bureacrat: mean gay footman/new ramc recruit thomas barrow. YEAH it's a downton abbey fic YEAH it's a masterpiece. i've talked about it before at length, my love has not faded. the crowning moment of bureaucracy is a long interlude where thomas optimizes the hospital laundry (this actually happens twice or maybe three times)

hands of the emperor by victoria goddard. the bureaucracy: crumbling fantasy empire some time after magical apocalypse. the bureacrat: passionate late-career clerk from the hinterlands cliopher mdang. i reread this book every winter bc it is as a warm bath for my SAD-addled brain and every time i neglect all my responsibilities to read all nine billion pages in three days. it puts abt 93% of the worldbuilding momentum into elaborating all of the ministries and secretaries and audits necessary to run a global government and like 7% into the magic and stuff. there are also several charming companion novellas and an equally long sequel that dives more into the central relationship between cliopher and the emperor which i highly recommend if you like gentle old man yaoi and/or magic, but there's more bureaucracy in HOTE.

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. the bureaucracy: court of henry viii. the bureaucrat: thomas cromwell, the real guy. curveball! it's critically acclaimed booker prize winning rpf novel wolf hall! mantel is really interested in particular ways of gaining and maintaining power in delicate and labyrinthine systems like the tudor court, specifically in strongmen who use both physical intimidation and metaphysical manipulation to succeed. under these conditions i do think my best friend long-dead historical personage thomas cromwell counts as Bureaucrat Fiction (as do danton and robespierre in a place of greater safety. bonus rec.)

going postal by terry pratchett. the bureaucracy: fantasy postal service of ankh-morpork. the bureaucrat: conman, scammer, and little freak moist von lipwig. this is definitely shorter and lighter than the other three entries on the list, sort of a screwball take on the bureaucrat. but the mail is such a classic bureaucracy thing? who doesn't love thinking about the mail? also contains a key genre element which is a fraught sexual tension with the person immediately above the protagonist in their hierarchy, who is also their god-king and boyfriend-dad. you can't tell me vetinari isn't torturing moist psychologically AND sexually.

anyway sorry about all this. if you've read any of these come talk to me about them. bureaucrat fiction recs welcomed with the openest possible arms.

#this post was very challenging to write bc i cannot spell the word bureaucracy to save my life. EVERY time i forget where the U goes #long post #asks #bureacracy. beaureaucracy. bereaucracy. fuck french

[mortalityplays]

Only tangentially related to today's ask discourse but I was thinking about this- do you have advice on pushing more out of your comfort zone ie media? I feel like its really easy to say you like or want stuff thats making you uncomfortable or is less palatable to wide audiences etc etc but I have trouble going out of my way to actually experience things like that over more popcorn you know

a good way to start if you're intimidated is to look for curated recommendations close to your cultural comfort zone (I'm focusing on US/UK lists here but you can look for recommendations from museums, libraries, and national award bodies just about anywhere in the world). e.g. the BFI Sight & Sound list or the National Film Registry (for movies), Booker Prize or National Book Award winners for literature

Don't feel like you have to watch/read everything all at once, it's fine to skim for something that sounds particularly up your street and start there. It's also fine to jump right into something intimidating and find out what all the fuss is about! the absolute worst case scenario is that you're bored or underwhelmed and can pick something else next time.

a lot of my film knowledge comes from when I was at university. I discovered that there was an A/V library and viewing room on campus that I could use for free l, so I just looked through the catalogue and started picking out things I'd never seen that sounded interesting. every day between classes I'd go, pick a title, and spend a couple of hours giving it a try. I watched Blade Runner for the first time in a darkened basement booth with headphones on, and The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, and Wild Strawberries, and Persepolis, and countless other weird and wonderful things. sometimes I picked something incredibly boring or something that annoyed me, but I always came away feeling good that I'd expanded my knowledge of what was out there.

once you do start finding new things you like, a whole other path opens up to you. you can dig deeper into the work of one writer or director or actor, look up interviews and find out who inspired them. if you loved a specific book, see if the author mentioned any direct influences, or if critics compared it to something else you might enjoy. you get to start building these maps in your head and getting a sense for where different things fit, and it becomes easier and easier to hunt for hidden treasures.

finally! if you can find a group of friends (or even just one person) who is interested in taking this journey with you, start a club. take turns to pick something you want to explore, share the journey, and discuss it as you go along. keep sight of your purpose, whether that's to broaden your horizons beyond your home culture, take on more challenging works, or just be better informed. take it a step at a time, and learn to enjoy the experience of exploration even when you don't like something. figuring out why we hated Lady Chatterley's Lover is some of the most fun I've had with our book club yet. introducing friends to The Left Hand of Darkness and getting hype about it with them was just as good. love the process and you'll change your life.

#I hope this helps!!! there's no wrong way to tey new things as long as you're making a good faith effort to engage with them