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homespork-review · 5 years

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Homespork Act 2: The Racism of the Conductor’s Baton (Part 2)

FAILURE ARTIST: We don’t get much time to mourn with Dave because the comic flashes to a weird wizard statue. This statue is ZAZZERPAN THE LEARNED. Wizards are another recurring theme in Homestuck. Andrew Hussie once artfully defaced this cheesy book called Wizardology (warning: lots of really offensive humor). Anyway, Rose hates the giant statue and the other wizard paraphernalia her mother collects and believes her mother does this only to spite her. On a platform is a bronzed vacuum (with a place to put alcoholic beverages) that Rose gave her as an ironic present. On the couch there’s a life-sized princess doll that Rose has attached a Cthulhu-type head to. All these things set up Rose’s troubled relationship with her mother. Rose believes her mother is taunting her and Rose taunts her back.

BRIGHT: This scene also establishes that some things (the Cthulhu doll for one) are too big to be captchalogued.

CHEL: Actually, that was noted with the harlequin doll earlier but we forgot to mention that.

FAILURE ARTIST: Rose goes to the kitchen. On the fridge is a crude picture of her late cat Jaspers, who turns out to be more than a family pet. There’s more signs of this cold war between mother and daughter on the fridge.

CHEL: Also, numerous liquor bottles in the kitchen and comically exaggerated displays of wealth, such as a fifteen-thousand-dollar picture frame.

FAILURE ARTIST: After fussing with the fridge, Rose tries to leave the kitchen only to run into her mother. She tries escaping but lands comically in some wizard statuettes.

CHEL: Mom Lalonde is mopping the floor, with no water in the bucket, holding a martini in her other hand. The woman clearly has a problem. Again, this is an issue with the portrayal of the parents; this is pretty funny, but were a real mother behaving this way, it would seriously mess up the kid, and whether we’re supposed to take it as Rule of Funny or not later becomes inconsistent.

BRIGHT: I think a lot of the humour here is supposed to come from the implication that Mom Lalonde actually is a loving if clueless (and drunk) parent, and Rose is reading her badly. On the other hand, something is clearly very wrong, and while Mom Lalonde may indeed be loving the situation is definitely having an impact on Rose.

TIER: Say whatever you want, but when putting on the late game Cerebus Retcon goggles there are probably non-humorous questions to be asked about how screwy Mom Lalonde is as a parental unit if her daughter has ended up interpreting most of her actions as mocking or backhanded towards herself. Like, kids don't just decide that.

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 3

CHEL: Back to Dave, he’s chatting with GG and they’re being adorable. GG comments about her birthday present to John, the green box we saw in the car earlier, and…

GG: no!!!!!!! GG: he will not open it GG: he will lose it!!! TG: oh TG: uh TG: wow sorry to hear that i guess? GG: no its good actually! GG: because he will find it again later when he really needs it GG: which of course is why i sent it in the first place! TG: see like TG: i never get how you know these things GG: i dont know GG: i just know that i know!

I think here is when we start to get inklings of the kids’ unusual abilities - I mean, unusual in the context of the weird world they live in. A bit more is established about GG’s home life and Dave’s attitudes, too:

GG: i have to feed bec which is always a bit of an undertaking TG: man TG: if i were you i would just take that fucking devilbeast out behind the woodshed and blow its head off GG: heheheh! GG: i dont think i could if i tried!!! TG: yeah TG: say hi to your grand dad for me too ok GG: ._. GG: yes i guess an encounter with him is almost certain GG: it is usually........ GG: intense!!! TG: well yeah isnt it always with family TG: but he sounds like a total badass

“Intense” in a world where attacking your father with a hammer isn’t worthy of comment sounds worrying. We’ll see how that goes.

FAILURE ARTIST: Dave has the tiniest of smiles here and in Hussie’s annotation he says that one pixel created Dave/GG. Whether or not their connection is romantic, Dave obviously feels great affection for her.

CHEL: Interactions between all four of the kids are really sweet, honestly. Dialogue and character interactions are one of the strongest points of the comic overall. Personally I have a soft spot for the OT4.

TIER: In my unprofessional opinion, the beta humans are by far the most functioning and tight knit group of the various groups within the comic, for what that's worth considering the overall dysfunction junction. They're sweet to one another is what I'm saying.

CHEL: Dave talks to John, who mentions the creepy trails around his house and how he thinks he’s seen monsters, which we the audience have definitely seen; creepy little black imps with fangs and, oddly, jester outfits. They bear a striking resemblance to the Wayward Vagabond, in fact. Dave makes fun, but at least pretends not to disbelieve him, and urges him to keep his hammer at the ready. Dave can’t find his Bro, but can find “Lil Cal”, implying Bro is nearby.

TG: lil cal is the shit EB: that's fine, you are entitled to your opinion, i am just saying that being a white guy who is a rapper with a ventriloquist doll is not cool by any stretch of the imagination or by any definition of word cool, ironic or otherwise. that's all i'm saying. WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 5

Would a non-white rapping ventriloquist be any cooler? I’m struggling to see how. Ventriloquism, by definition, sucks the cool out of any other aspect of the thing. And now I’m picturing Carlton from Fresh Prince trying to rap with a ventriloquist’s doll.

BRIGHT: Back at the Lalonde residence, Rose attempts to ‘Youth Roll’ out of the front door, but her escape route is blocked by her mother, who appears with martini glass in hand. Time for our second Strife of the comic! (And can I say that I really like the music for this one?)

As with John’s strife with his dad, this strife tells us a lot about Rose’s relationship with her mother. John had the AGGRIEVE and ABJURE options; Rose also gets AGGRESS (PASSIVE) and ABSTAIN. It’s pretty telling that one of these options is an EMPTY SUICIDE THREAT, and ‘Abstain’ has Rose fending off her mother’s insistent offer of the martini glass.

FAILURE ARTIST: I liked the EMPTY SUICIDE THREAT at the time but now I think it deserves an ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?

BRIGHT: Mom Lalonde may be intended as loving-but-clueless, but she’s offering her thirteen year old daughter alcohol, over Rose’s protests, and something is clearly very wrong if suicide threats are a normal part of life. (Something similar will come up in the future, but in that context it isn’t played for laughs.)

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 4

On a lighter note, ‘Abjure’ has her mother offering her A BEAUTIFUL PONY. Rose reacts in the moment like this is terrible, but does later pat the pony’s nose.

At any rate, the strife ends when Mom Lalonde apparently gets bored and decides to do some dusting. This takes all the fun out of using the front door, so Rose goes around the back to make her break for the generator.

Meanwhile, John is trying to read up on weaponizing sylladexes (sylladices?), but is being nagged by a voice to turn around — which he finally does, just in time for a monster to ram into him so hard it turns the panel pixelated. Strife time!

John’s bout with the Shale Imp kicks off with the monster threatening the Con Air bunny. John’s efforts to defend it are intercut with Rose’s progress out of the house and through the rain to the mausoleum. I think this interplay works quite nicely — it keeps both things moving without letting the reader get impatient -- but your mileage may vary.

The imp aggravates John by punching the bunny in the belly and waving it at him. John attacks the imp and breaks his hammer, then attacks it with the handle and gets knocked flat. Finally he weaponises his sylladex and chucks his inventory at it until it explodes into a shower of grist.

PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX!!!!!! Now why couldn’t he put the bunny back in the box?

Because he’d set it as his strifekind, it turns out.

In true video game style, defeating the imp causes John to level up! In Homestuck, this is done by ascending one’s echeladder, a series of player levels with whimsical, old-fashioned names. John climbs two rungs, from Greentike to Plucky Tot, and earns 125 Boondollars.

Note how efficient this is: In one panel we can see that the echeladder is a levelling system, that Boondollars are in-Game currency, and that levelling up has increased John’s amount of grist and how much of it he can carry. He’s also got a new kind of grist called ‘Shale’. Hussie does take an extra panel to clarify the grist capacity expansion, but that makes sense as it’s a small part of the original panel. Compare this to the dozens of panels we’ve had laying out how sylladexes work. These panels are much more information-dense, and the comic flows better for it.

CHEL: Exactly what “grist” is and what it does beyond allowing changes to the house, why those changes are needed, and what “boondollars” are for hasn’t been explained yet, but will be soon, and it’s clear they’re something to do with the game so it’s not outright confusing.

BRIGHT: John spends the next few panels sorting his strife specibus out, and stashes the bunny in there for safekeeping. There’s something amiss, but he can’t quite put his finger on it...

Meanwhile, Rose has reached the mausoleum and prepares to activate the generator. The taxidermied corpse of her beloved pet lies in state, dressed in a tiny suit. A sad fate for an animal who should have peacefully decomposed in a flowerbed. Rose kicks it off the pedestal to make room for the laptop.

John discovers what’s wrong when a bucket of water perched atop his door lands on his head. The culprit behind this sudden dousing?

"[S] WHAT THIS IS SO OUTRAGEOUS (HD)" (Watch on YouTube)

Apparently the sprite has a sense of humour.

Next up is a pesterlog between Rose and Dave. There are hints that all is not well in the Strider residence.

TG: hey TG: dont tell john this but i think he might have been right about the puppets TG: theyre sort of starting to freak me out a little TT: You're referring to your brother's collection? TG: i mean dont get me wrong i think its cool and all TG: the semi-ironic puppet thing or whatever TG: or semi-semi ironic TG: man i dont even know TG: im just starting to think some of this shit is going a little far and its kind of fucked up TT: I've seen his websites. TT: I like them. TG: haha yeah well YOU WOULD TG: oh man i wish lil cal wouldnt look at me like that TG: with those dead eyes jesus TG: sometimes i dream that hes real and hes talking to me and i wake up in a cold sweat and basically flip the fuck out

Well, not so much hints as flashing neon signs. Dave’s gone very quickly from insisting that everything his brother does is cool and Lil Cal is awesome, to admitting that he has nightmares about Lil Cal and is freaked out by his brother’s ‘semi-ironic puppet thing’. We don’t know much about Bro’s websites yet, but we do know that Rose has a morbid streak, and Dave is clearly disturbed by the content.

Dave leaves to find his brother’s copy of the game, and we return to John, who, to quote Rose, has ‘just had a bucket of water dumped on his head by the ghost of his dead grandmother, who also happens to be dressed like a clown.’

And yes, that is indeed John’s dead Nanna, returned to help him on his journey through The Medium and beyond -- or at least, she claims she is. John has to take her word for it, as he doesn’t remember her at all. According to his Dad, John was pretty young when she died. Speaking of his Dad, he’s been kidnapped by the forces invading John’s home.

Nannasprite gives John the background of the game and what’s going on. His house is now in the Medium. This place was created by the game software, but is physically independent of it -- and no, he’s not inside a computer. The Medium floats in the Incipisphere, a place outside the normal flow of time in the kids’ universe. Above the Medium is the realm of Skaia.

According to Nannasprite:

Legend holds that Skaia exists as a dormant crucible of unlimited creative potential. What does this mean, you ask? I'm afraid my lips are sealed about that, dear! Hoo hoo!

Nannasprite is somewhat like a tutorial assistant for the game -- she helps guide John and provides information, although she’s somewhat cryptic.

We are getting a lot of new words here, but Hussie is defining them pretty well as we go, so I don’t think it merits a point.

At any rate, Skaia is defended by the forces of light, while forces of darkness plot its destruction. These two forces exist in an endless stalemate on a stage at the centre of Skaia until a player with a prototyped Kernelsprite enters the Medium. Then the prototyped Kernelsprite splits, with one Kernel carrying the prototyping information up to a kingdom basked in light, and another Kernel carrying it down to the kingdom of darkness. Each kingdom has four Spires, and when the Kernel reaches one, it propagates the prototyping information to the kingdom’s forces.

This is why the imps were dressed as jesters: John prototyped his Kernel with the harlequin doll, and whatever the other players prototype with will influence what forms the soldiers take. When the first Kernels reach the spires, the battlefield gets bigger and the war begins for real.

Oh, right -- and the forces of light are always destined to lose.

So what’s the point? Apparently, that’s for John to find out. For now, though, he needs to head towards Skaia, going through the first of seven Gates. The first Gate is situated directly above John’s house, but the others are going to be harder to reach. We now find out what all that Build Grist is for: To get to the Gate, they need to build the house higher to reach it. And then they can rescue John’s Dad, solve the ultimate riddle, and save the Earth from destruction!

...or not.

Nope, according to Nannasprite, Earth is doomed. Done for. Kaput. There is nothing they can do to save it.

John is pretty bummed about this. He isn’t cheered by Nanna’s assurance that he has a much more important purpose than saving the planet, although she fails to elaborate on that point and instead floats off to make cookies.

CHEL: I think here we earn another couple of points.

HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 2 HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 11 Failing the Turing Test - wherein the character has no reactions whatsoever While the emotional lives of characters should not be described in their every tiny wrinkle, characters must have emotional lives. When someone boos them off a stage, they should experience chagrin. When they fall from a tenth-storey window, they should feel alarm. The writer should not count on dialogue like “Yikes!” to get the point across.

Brief confusion and feeling “bummed out” by the news that one’s entire planet is doomed does not count as an adequate reaction. I’d expect more fear, more concern. As pointed out before, doesn’t John have any friends other than Dave, Rose, and GG? His Dad has friends, wouldn’t he be concerned for them on Dad’s behalf? If nothing else, more curiosity about this “more important” business?

BRIGHT: Now, I could actually buy this in some circumstances — John is a teenager, doesn’t seem to have close connections outside those we see on screen, and he’s been having one hell of a weird day. I wouldn’t be surprised if grasping the scope of destruction was simply beyond him at this point. It’s a lot to take in, and it’s only been a few hours since life went to hell in a handbasket — not to mention, he’s in an active combat zone. There’s a lot going on, and if he was to shove it out of his mind while he dealt with the immediate crisis, I could see that as pretty realistic.

Of course, that would depend on him actually reacting at some later point, when he had a chance to slow down and it could sink in. As it stands...well, if that does happen, we never see it.

CHEL: Does this also count as “Oh, Don’t Mind Him” for the How Not To score?

BRIGHT: I think so, yes.

CHEL: Then here it goes!

HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 12 Oh, Don’t Mind Him - where a character’s problems remain unexplored In real life, people are riddled with chronic problems that are not addressed for long periods of time, if ever. But in fiction, all problems are just the opening chords of a song. If there is a brother who has a problem with alcohol, a child who has lost her dog, or even someone whose car has simply broken down, the reader will worry about those people and expect the author to do something about it.

Technically, this could count for seven billion or so points, minus any people who successfully entered their own game sessions, but we don’t want to get out of hand here and it really only counts as one big problem.

However! I am very fond of this idea in theory. The obvious option would be that the purpose of the game is to save the player’s homeworld. We’ve all seen the “save the homeworld” idea in scifi and fantasy before. Here, the homeworld is beyond saving, but there is another option, and exploring that is the storyline. The forces of light cannot have a traditional victory; the protagonists must find a victory on the terms they have. It’s not a theme one sees often, and I like it.

FAILURE ARTIST: John and the other Beta Kids’ lack of angst of the destruction of their planet doesn’t stick out as much here as it will later when almost everything else is milked for angst.

CHEL: I’m not really sure the planet being destroyed is a great basis for a Rule-of-Funny-based story if that was what he was going for, to be honest. “Billions died, lol!”

#homestuck #let's read homestuck #homestuck meta #homespork #homestuck reread #homestuck review #sporking #literary critique

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opalmothnightingale · 6 years

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Me and You and Our Separate Battles (Opposites Deactivate and Deflate Each Other, Oftentimes, Sorry to Say)...

1- 23- 18 -

Me and my daughter are sometimes opposites. Me and my husband too. What was common and shared, the bind, the core, between my husband and I included similarities as well as opposites... Because it was a case of like, pendulum between togetherness and separateness. We liked to see the separate spheres the other excelled within, even if we couldn’t partake of that dance and felt a degree of envy or vulnerability.. To be so inept where the other had so much potential and skill. We had dreams, of supporting each other in our dreams... Each in our separate dreams, but also together dreams, which was the only thing that really kept us together. If we’d been all only opposites, it would not have worked for us, because I have never been drawn to total opposites and partnering with them intensively... I am too individual and intense in my expressions which would be put out like fire under water... Destabilized and deactivated, dismantled my kingdom, my dreams and visionary schemes, my projects... and, my ideals...

Which my husband pretty well did, extinguished the spark. He changed so that little did even remain for me to feel was in common even though truthfully it was not so bad as that at all, but just my narrow interests and compulsive drives and obsessions weren’t satiated by him any longer... What compelled, wrapped our lives together and obsessed us together no longer did that for him...

Who had lost his spark, his spunk, his drive and compulsion,.. Burned out the last bit of the wick and no more was our fire mutual, but his earth and his fire, his fire the fire of force and opinion, recklessness, impulsive activeness, no longer the fire of thought and creativity and soul searching and deep darkness exploring...

All abandoned by the man who had decided he could become something else that suddenly riveted his whole existence... So practical, so mundane, pragmatic,.. Dull as dust, to me... Even as he kept a lot of his open mindedness, but not so much he could live it daily in a visionary lifestyle, that was what I felt I needed and was compelled towards, but was what he felt bored and tired and intolerant of... And abandoned completely...

Even telling me he didn’t know I had only wanted to be with him because of the idealistic, dreamy, inspired, passionate visionary life we shared, intellectual and creative.

He said he forgot or that he never knew. I wanted to strangle him, over and over over the years... Because I had told him this repeatedly, emphatically, and in great depth. I felt he could not have possibly not known or forgotten. I was raised to think people were dependable, promises could be kept, devotion could be for a lifetime and people wouldn’t just “forget” such emphatically discussed, mutually pulled apart and built together things,... dreams. Plans.

And I wonder if he was lying. Surely he didn’t forget. He just was trying to play with my head,... to make me feel there was no way to discuss it with him, ... because he could use the excuse... and,... so, of course, then he left me with no sensible reply to his big fat lie and escape of responsibility.

I should have known if someone had taught me to never trust and never depend on people for your future,... your dreams, partnership,... loyalty, devotion...

And dependability... Perseverance. Focus. Deeper values and integrity, instead of distractible hyper running around looking for fun and laziness all the time or pursuing extravagant amounts of money and social impressiveness, at the cost of friendship, family, deeper thinking, relationship problems and sincere efforts at conflict resolution, deeper or more extensive learning and development of their hearts, minds, selves, visionary dreams...

It’s kind of like they just gave up,... My friends... They just found it too difficult and found it too easy to fall in line... with the rest of life and the world...

It was like my husband couldn’t try to resolve conflicts and instead would play endless psychopathic games and level extreme misery and extreme insane levels of stress, agony and dehumanizing hate and emotional violence, on me,.. rather than try to really dive deep and work on his problems...

Taking out his frustrations with his work or his lack of achievements he had wanted... Like my dad was with my mom, only over much more trivial junk my dad attacked my mom... Not enough salt on the peas, and other insane ridiculous garbage, leading to hours of fuming abuse... Nightmare revisited...

Taking this out on me, in the form of controlling attempts to change our lives according to his whims... as if his whimsical changes would grant him happiness, but really the happiness he wanted could only be found through inner work.. and he didn’t have the patience or inclination for that...

And also he developed a severe inability to work on our conflicts... Rather it was always his way or the highway,... He could never be wrong. He could never bend,... on many issues... Not that he never did ever work together or change but it’s like we worked out some conflicts, and he cooperated but with many conflicts, he became completely intractable, controlling, dominant and excruciatingly

I don’t know why... Maybe after so many years of pain with me and him, he shut down and lost his mind... He became so abusive towards me... Even though he was not like that in the early years, several years, of our relationship... Why do people change like this to become hateful abusers to those they once cherished and nurtured?

He had vast extensive control over many issues of our lives... Even though these were totally valid and huge issues that he should have been willing to work with me on... It was as though he made the choice to shut down and never again open his mind and heart and become a hard headed, hard hearted person.

As though narcissistic fears of inadequacy or fears of abandonment made him lose his mind and turn into an attack dog for hours, weeks, however long till I gave up and let him tyrannically control the issue at hand.

So people abandoned what seemed most meaningful and important and relationships, deep caring and working together... Marriages fell apart, friendships were abandoned, idealism and visions were totally forgotten in favor of materialism, fun and distraction and work and normal social behavior, normal chit chat, normal interests, etc, etc... So I have not a shred in common with these people any more... (though my husband is not totally normal or I likely would not be able to even stay married to him at all... truthfully,...)

But, for me it is the opposite, I found it totally unbearable to fall in line. I would rather become a underworld dweller, a drop out of society than to fall in line.

I guess my sense of extreme authenticity is bizarre and totally extreme... Lol I guess it’s not that I’m better because left to my own devices I might have self desctructed.

Because, yes,... This world can be so hard and disillusioning for visionary types when they see so few visions and ideals are actually realistic in the world and many areas of life and for many people...

So instead, most people fall in line with society’s roles and normal behaviors when they see how stifled and oppressed idealistic visionary things are in the real adult world...

So. They fall right into line with the normal stuff,... Yes,... Just the same old stuff... Stuff they once mocked and shunned and cringed from... Like me... Like I still do, but they embrace them while I still run far the opposite way... They now embrace the very things I have felt repelled by from the start \

...and thought my friends did... thought their values, passions and visions would last through their adult life too, instead of turning to unidentifiable, unmemorable mush... until they fell in line with the rest of society as they grew up... Ugh!!!

How could they just change so much to something entirely different? I don’t know. I guess they were not ever as extreme as me, in their passions, maybe. In their drives, obsessions, narrow interests... The absolute compulsion towards authenticity,... Lucky them because they were not destroyed by the drives that had no outlet...

Lucky me now though because my drives are finally finding an outlet, one that they thought, I thought never existed... But it does, it’s just only very rare, extremely rare...

I want my daughter to see this reality, this rare world and self expression, from a young age and on through life, as she grows up and never feel like the world has crushed and consumed, rolled her up into its ideas...

Yes... I want her to always know what is possible and her ideas and ideals and visions do have a place in this world, after all... And, they always will...

A rare window into this world of possibility and depth and flow so generally abandoned, denied and attacked.

Maybe the people who taught me that others could be dependable and consistent... My parents, who taught me to fall into another’s world, with trust, and blend my life so vulnerably... Maybe they could teach me this, leave me so open to being destroyed and used totally...

Maybe they grew up in worlds and times when such things were actually dependable. Maybe their whole worlds were so small that the dependable rules they believed in were more commonly followed... Being a dependable consistent idealist is much more uncommon. Being a dependable normal person like they were, conservative, fundamentalist-tinged,.. it is common.

At least, somewhat... More so in the past maybe.

Which had pros and cons, because some of the fundamentalist beliefs and values were really truly good values and behaviors.

But these days,...

These days, it seems,... T to me, that flaky cop out avoidance and abandonment are common, and looking back all my friends did this to me,...

Or most of them. Others changed personality and became delusional so I couldn’t stand to hear them and they wouldn’t listen to reason,... Just continually bombarding me with extreme intolerable hate the world, can’t do anything about my misery with my life, kind of stuff that made me want to just hurt myself if I had to listen to it...

Urgh! So contagious and smothering was their mire on my already frail mental health... Oh well then... I tried but I can’t be misery in company... It would be the death of me, quite truly literally..

I have to find how to keep this inertia and misdirected, undirected chaos from overtaking me or my daughter,... Even if we’re opposites in many ways. I can’t change or teach my husband who has hardened into self righteous narrowness instead of cooperation and learning... But my daughter still has a chance to not be like the narrow, self-destructing or other-destructing ones, but can learn to thrive where others shut down their minds or hearts and forget anything else is even possible...

We don’t have to be opposites that fight, but only if we each choose to work together... That goes for any opposite type personalities.

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