#i love my culture but SO much of black americanness is shaped by and around christianity

[walaw717]

How Leaky Gut, Gary Snyder, Jim Harrison, and Okakura Kazuko Helped Me Rediscover Coffee.

Or, My Dad was a Zen Master, and I Didn’t Notice.

Zen is not some fancy, unique art of living. Our teaching is to live, always in reality, in its exact sense.

Shunryu Suzuki

It began simple enough, well, not that simple. The Traditional Chinese Physician diagnosed my partner with leaky gut syndrome. That sounds terrible, and it was for her. She loved boxed prepared foods and was not fond of vegetables. Time and malnutrition brought on by General Mills, Conagra, and a variety of corporate food chemists had caught up to her, killing the terrarium in her gut so that everything she ate penetrated past the lichen-like lining of her intestines and digestive tract so acid ate at the inner skin like a chemical spill eating the epoxy resin on a high school science class table. This acid wash triggered various autoimmune disorders and led to arthritis, diarrhea, malaise, and general misery for her and those around her. She spent a lot of time in the bathroom, travel was curtailed, and there was general unhappiness all around because the irritation in her gut often seeped out of her vocal cords.

The Physician approached me in the waiting room. At the same time, my partner lay in a private room with needles, restoring her chi into its proper channels and outlining the changes needed in our lifestyle to cure this plague of misery. The doctor told me I also needed to join the new dietary regime to be supportive.

“Well, OK,” I said with outward unfelt enthusiasm.

So we went home and cleaned cabinets, throwing packaged foods away and feeling pangs of guilt — should we throw it away or give it to a shelter? I had visions of homeless people excitedly getting free food that passed as quality and eventually needing a traditional Chinese physician to tell them why they had started crapping so much and with such urgency. I took it to the dumpster, deciding that if they dove for it, it would at least not be the typical garbage they found to eat there that already messed up their guts and energy meridians, contributing to a miserable lifestyle. Their choice would not be my responsibility. I am, after all, an American and well-practiced at ignoring or at least rationalizing my guilt at ecological and cultural destruction. The dumpster became my version of a clear-cut in Oregon. Behind twenty-five yards of pristine natural beauty and unseen from the speeding motorists on the interstates is a desolated waste that can only support the lifestyle of the rich and infamous. To paraphrase an adage from pop psychology, “What we don’t think about, we pretend we don’t bring about.”

And then there was the Mr. Coffee. It sat on the kitchen counter, a yellowing plastic oddly shaped box protectively embracing a clear glass carafe that produced without much effort or thought a dark brown nectar that started our day. It was simple: you pulled out the black plastic cup, lined it with bleached paper, measured several small scoops of coffee, replaced the black plastic cup, filled the box with water, hit the button, and left the room, knowing the watery brown liquor would be ready after the morning shower and shave. Frankly, I was addicted to the tasteless brown water that came out, full of caffeine that gave me a lift but no longer a sweet aroma, depth of flavor or anything but a buzz. The Physician said that they had to go. The little lichen and animal-like bacteria in the gut didn’t like the acid. She equated it with Agent Orange. Being of a certain age, I was more familiar with Agent Orange than I wanted or should be, and I suspect she knew that just by looking at my grey hair. She was playing dirty there, but “Well, OK.”

So Mr. Coffee went somewhere. I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to become like stomach acid and create more irritation. To ease the pain, I read an article by a Buddhist who said he quit coffee for six months and felt great but eventually had a cup of the dark roast at Starbucks. He didn’t get a buzz but got jazzed for two days. That didn’t help as I read his article while drinking weak green tea with ginger, waiting for caffeine-induced enlightenment.

As a caffeine junkie and failed Roshi, I needed some relief. Each morning, I scrolled Tumblr’s pictures while drinking my tea and tried to distract myself from the lack of coffee and junk food. Before I went to Tumblr and its processed version of the good life, I had returned to Zazen, you know, meditative sitting, but I was haunted by Buddhist demons carrying Starbucks cups. That was akin to the demons I had seen as a young college student Buddhist “wannabe” reading Alan Watts and D.T. Suzuki, practicing their version of sitting zazen. The forms Mara took in those sittings mostly looked like the red-headed girl I was dating. She would arise in my meditations dancing with her female roommate, both naked dakinis looking beguilingly at me, beckoning me. Needless to say, I never found a Bodhi tree as lovely as Keanu Reeves’ in Little Buddha. I usually went to the red-headed girl’s apartment, leaving my cat to fend for herself for several days. The cat was often irritated with me — the story of my life with females.

Giving up zazen for scrolling Tumblr didn’t help much. There were many beautiful images of landscapes, cityscapes, horses, wildlife, and old trucks and cars. It is a veritable Life magazine online, and being a trained art historian studying reproductions of pictures was right up my alley. There were many images of beguiling dakinis, but more provocatively undressed than those I showed freshmen when I taught art history. As an old man, experienced in the wiles of youthful Dakinis, they looked generally unbeguiling and un-tempting. Sometimes, they wore a plaid flannel shirt tied above the waist, standing next to a campfire, or sitting on the tailgate of a pickup, holding a tin cup of coffee; those got to me — I love plaid, and there was coffee. Even more painfully, there were camping pictures, not just any camping pictures but old percolators on campfires, some with steam coming out of their spouts, some with the cooked brown fluid being poured into cups. As I hit the little heart to acknowledge I liked those images, they appeared more and more frequently. I began to seriously think there were hells, Buddhists and otherwise, and real demons determined to steal my peace.

I was not always addicted to coffee. It all began next to the Seine at a little cafe on the Boulevard Saint-Germain, where I first tasted café au lait. I was a typical 18-year-old 1970s kid backpacking through Europe, and Paris was a first stop. I hated wine and was not too fond of beer, though I drank large quantities with friends at college my first term, and Perrier was breaking my travel budget. One day, I learned that café au lait was mostly milk, and being a farm boy still wedded to the idea that milk was good for me, I downed a cup of café au lait, then another and another. At the end of my first sitting, the waiter counted eight saucers and asked if “Monsieur was feeling okay.” “Sure,” I replied with composure I didn’t feel. I left the café, strolled down the Qui Voltaire, crossed the river on the Pont de la Concorde, hiked through the Tuileries and toured the entire Louvre in 45 minutes flat.

I continued my travels in Europe and tried every type of coffee I could find, settling on Turkish coffee in little cups with big cubes of sugar. In a pinch, I would accept espresso, but by the time I got to Italy, espresso seemed a weak way to live.

Then I returned to America, tried various diner coffees, and wondered why they served browned hot water. By then, Mr. Coffee had replaced percolators and any other form of making coffee all across America. Joe DiMaggio was happy and smiling on every new box containing a coffee maker and heading to an American home.

I tried to make Turkish coffee. Generally, I failed and finally settled on strong home-brewed Mr. Coffee with lots of heavy cream. I would occasionally daydream about camping with my parents and blue-speckled-ware coffee pots on the fire or the aroma of the coffee their electric percolator made as it rhythmically gurgled in the kitchen. It never occurred to me to get an electric percolator because they were, thanks to Mr. Coffee, passe and un-American. I also avoided percolator coffee because I associated it with the odor of my parent’s cigarettes. No matter how good the coffee smelled, I had an aversion to their cigarettes and my parents. Therapy helped me overcome my aversion to my parents but not cigarettes, and the association of stale, burned, chemical-treated tobacco and perked coffee remained.

I felt good after six months of a healthy life, eating right, losing weight, and spending less time on the toilet. I still, however, craved caffeine. I started looking at Mr. Coffee online and realized it was a version of pour-over coffee. So, I bought a plastic two-cup Merlita sit-on-the-cup pour-over device. It was an odd orange-pink affair, but It made a good single cup of coffee, and I discovered that the two-cup size worked just fine to make a single cup of coffee. I understood that a pour-over made better coffee than Mr. Coffee, even though the process was the same. The two-cup pour-over process did require me to pay attention to what I was doing.

This pour-over coffee period came while I re-read Gary Snyder and Jim Harrison, two old Buddhists who were even grouchier than me. They got me rethinking, too, about the practice of the wild and how aggravated I was with General Mills and Conagra and the whole mess of modern American consumerism I allowed myself to get sucked into. I realized I missed camping, hiking, and the smell of coffee perking on an open campfire. I truly missed robust campfire coffee with its flavor and aroma.

I bought an Italian Bialetti Moka pot to remain civilized about my need for aroma. ( I didn’t say I escaped consumerism, just I was aggravated with it.). As I entered the ritual each morning of making coffee in a Moka pot, so strong that I had to serve it in tiny espresso cups to keep the buzz low, I realized that making coffee was really about paying attention, like a Japanese tea ceremony. It took time and required focused measuring of the coffee, packing the funnel, preheating the water, a degree of zazen, listening for the gurgle of the pot and knowing when to take it off the heat so it did not get bitter. I liked the meditation of preparing it. I hated the tiny, over-caffeinated cups. ( My coffee fast had at least broken my addiction to triple-dose caffeine.)

Then we had a cold front, I mean a really cold front that made me wish I had remembered to close the windows the night before, and I had visions of camping, dakinis in plaid flannel shirts, me in plaid flannel shirts, lakes and campfires and a percolator on the fire. It was a memory of connection and loss rolled into one. I was young, and it was a time before Alan Watts and D.T. Suzuki when I knew how to sit, breathe, watch, observe, be present, and smell the coffee with childlike naturalness. So, back to the consumer websites. I scanned a couple dozen percolators. Being aware that I had to make sure I was not as irritating as stomach acid in my choice, I picked a shiny stainless steel eight-cup percolator over the twelve-cup spatterware blue of my encamped youth. Two days later, it arrived and posed gloriously on my stove. Even my partner admitted to its silvery beauty.

I then read internet manuals on how to make the perfect pot of percolator coffee. They all disagreed about the amount of coffee, timing, and type of coffee. Then I remembered my dad, carefully spooning a heaping tablespoon of coffee per 6-ounce cup of water and one for the pot. I remembered how, while he measured his coffee into the basket, the pot would sit on a rock on the fire’s edge and come to a boil. He would gently lower the full basket into the boiling water, place the lid on the pot and move the pot away from the heat, allowing it not to boil vigorously but return to a slow boil so the coffee would not become bitter. And then he would wait, light a cigarette when the water would start its gentle dance in the glass cap of the lid. While he waited, he watched the perking water in the glass knob at the top of the pot without fidgeting or seeming to allow his mind to race away with him. And at the end of his cigarette, after his short version of meditation, he would lift the pot from the fire, place it on another warm but not hot rock, wait again for the basket to finish draining into the pot and remove the basket so the coffee would not become bitter, pour his mug of coffee, and sit again. Still, this sitting involvedwatching the forest and just being. The memory reminded me of Okakura Kazuko’s “Book of Tea,” his extended essay about aesthetics, tea, and Japanese life. As I remembered my Dad by the campfire, I realized Mr. Coffee’s plastic convenience erased coffee’s aesthetic from American life.

I have discovered that Coffee is not just a daily punch line at Starbucks with crazy concoctions snatched by a string of crazier motorists, nor is it the caffeine jazz you get from a neglected Mr. Coffee after a shower and a shave. Making coffee is a meditation, an act of beauty, a reminder of history and a rare act of America behaving in a more civilized way. In the Book of Tea, Kazuko comments, “The Westerner regarded Japan as barbarous while she indulged in the gentle arts of peace and began to call her civilized only when she began to commit wholesale slaughter on the Manchurian battlefields.” I realized that Mr. Coffee not only made barbarous coffee (we won’t even discuss Keurig), but Mr. Coffee was part of our uncivilized behavior toward the entire world, eliminating a small act of spirituality from our racing over-wrought lives.

I now regard the loss of Mr. Coffee not as a loss. It is a spiritual gain. Each morning now, I conduct a ritual. I rinse all my utensils, fill the pot with eight six-ounce measures of clean water, eight heaping tablespoons of freshly ground coffee and one for the pot. I bring the water to a boil, carefully insert the coffee, and place the lid on the pot. I watch until the water rises into the glass knob and then sit, and breathe for eight minutes, the amount of time I think it would have taken Dad to smoke a cigarette. I remove the pot and sit long enough to allow the water to finish draining from the basket, remove the basket and pour coffee into a mug reserved just for coffee, the one with the horses standing in a stream, drinking clear water. And then slowly sip while I sit on my porch, looking at the mountains. When it is cool enough, I wear a plaid flannel shirt and remember a time in my youth watching my father, who had never heard of Alan Watts, D. T. Suzuki, or Zen, sit his version of Zazen drinking his coffee, smoking one of his ever-present cigarettes looking out over a campfire at the lake and being at peace and away from the “chaos of the rat race,” as he defined it.

Maybe being a Roshi is realizing that life itself is Zazen if you slow down and allow it to be. Today, I lifted my cup to a man who was my Roshi that I didn’t notice. I suspect we all have such untitled Zen teachers.

#zen #coffee #camping #percolators #tea ceremony #meditiation #gary snyder #consumerism #capitalism

[staghunters]

hey hey! 2, 8, 12, 14

hoi hoi!

2. Oldest book you own (as in the one you received earliest in your life)

This one!

I got it from my grandpa one pakjesavond (sinterklaas/the dutch boxing day) when I must've been around 8 years old? I can recommend it, though it is very much a children's book in that there is a lot of exposition that feels overdone at times. Still, it's got "fairy tales are real but a bit fucked up in this world", fairies with double agenda's, sibling love, a shapeshifter who's definitely queer in some way shape or form!!, and the main character is basically like an Indiana Jones but for fairy tale artefacts (hijinks included) on the background is this large-scale political conflict that makes it all very witcher-y.

You might know this author from Inkheart, btw! This one has also been translated into english.

8. Best cover

A tie between these two!

I got them both last year on my bday credit at the store and haven't read either of them, but they look very nice. The Bale one is a hardcover that has gold details, but just the whole composition of it all is perfect.

12. Weirdest book you own

Definitely "The making of The African Queen, or, How I went to Africa with Bogart, Bacall, and Huston and almost lost my mind" by Katherine Hepburn.

I couldn't get it anywhere physically except as an second-hand library edition from the states (shoutout to Boston Baptist College Library!) but read it beforehand on internet archive because you can borrow it there for free! It's just a personal account of making a movie, but Katherine Hepburn is hilarious. It really reads like you're sitting with her and she has to vent about this stupid flick she did but wowza. Please let the following passage convince you to check it out. The full thing is only 150~ pages long.

14. A book you love but wouldn’t really recommend to others

HEX by Thomas Olde Heuvelt! (I don't have the cover below but really like it so ordered it at work just now asjdkfhlsd)

It was review bombed big time on Goodreads. On some points I could see the validity, but there's something really cool going on in here but that either doesn't translate well cross-culture, or is in general a bit ambiguous. The climax and ending is WILD. Not in a way of "wow some crazy fucked up shit happens here", which it kinda does, but I'm talking fucked up like a Hieronymus Bosch painting, and not like SAW.

I believe Olde Heuvelt did change some things to make it more understandable for american audiences, while sticking close to what he meant in the dutch version. Putting the town in the Hudson Valley as opposed to somewhere near Nijmegen makes sense, but still doesn't cover the typical "dutch small town" feeling from the original, particularly because of how densely populated my country is, making the whole curse that confines you to your super small old town forever till you die thing a lot more frustrating when everything modern and big is within a half hour drive.

Anyways, if you'd still want a rec: A town (name might vary but it's called Black Spring in the american edition) is haunted by the figure of a 17th century witch. the gist of her curse is that anyone who stays in the town for too long or is born there will have to stay till they die, only being able to leave for short amounts of time. Over the years there's been a sort of witch-watch task-force that keeps track of the witch's movements (she otherwise doesn't really do anything). All goes well until some teen boys want to fuck around for a nice video to post online.

Bookish Asks

#thanks for the ask B!!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

(belated) reading update: may 2023

upon realizing I was over a week late on my book report for May I considered just waiting until the end of June and rolling the two together, but thing is that I have a Theme for June (spoilers: it's the very predictable theme of only reading books by and/or about queer people) and lumping them together will really throw that off, so! onwards we go.

I should also say that this will be a real shorty, tied with March for the LEAST amount of books I've managed to finish in a month so far this year. in March that was because the month mostly revolved around a weeklong vacation to crash at my mom's place on the beach with a gaggle of friends, which was very fun but seriously cramped my time to read for pleasure. May ALSO saw a very exciting weeklong trip to a brand new city (WHAT'S UP NEW ORLEANS) as well as genuinely some of the shittiest and most harrowing events of my adult life so far so. can't blame a bitch a bitch for slipping!

ANYWAY.

what have I been reading?

People From Bloomington (Budi Darma, 1980; trans. Tiffany Tsao, 2022) - a strange short story collection set in the Bloomington, Indiana, where the Indonesian Darma studied during the 1970s. these stories take the mundane drama of Americana and turn it on its head, crawling deep into themes of alienation and ostracization and the ways they turn people against themselves. over and over again Darma tells tales of lonely boarders driven to obsessive and antisocial behavior by the loneliness that eats them alive amid pleasant-looking suburbs. the prose is overall a little on the dry end for me to really love it, but I do think about how fucked up these protagonists are, like, constantly.

High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey from Africa to America (Jessica B. Harris, 2011) - a delight! an absolute gosh dang delight! Harris is a PUN FULL INTENDED delectable writer who takes you on the most unexpected tour of how African foodways have shaped the culture of US cuisine. beginning with the obvious roots of the transatlantic slave trade and journeying on to America's first Black restaurateurs and sit-ins at diner counters, there's no facet of culinary life too small to be interwoven with Black American history, and Harris eagerly explores them all while painting a vivid picture for her readers. this book will absofuckinglutely make you hungry, so it's a good thing that recipes are included in the back.

Gay Bar: Why We Went Out (Jeremy Atherton Lin, 2021) - a heady powerhouse of a read, seamlessly blending the historical with the editorial with the personal. Lin's on a journey to resurrect the history of the gay bars that shaped he and his husband's intertwined lives - from their roots before his time, the state he found them in as a young man searching for a place in the queer scene, and their apparently dwindling status in the 2020s. Lin's writing is dreamy and grimy, unflinching and romantic, horny and bored all at once. this isn't an uncritical glorification of the gay bar but an interrogation, the pressing question of what community even means and where on earth it's going.

D'Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding (Chencia C. Higgins, 2022) - that's right, still on that kick of reading one romance novel a month. if you spend any amount of time perusing lists of LBGT book recs, particularly LBGT romances, it's inevitable that you'll run into D'Vaughn and Kris. this book has so much #representation that it's pretty much catnip for list compilers: both leads are Black lesbians, D'Vaughn is fat and not yet out to her very Christian mother, and Kris is a butch Afro-Latina (and also part of the most marginalized community of all: influencers). but what about the story, is that actually good? straight up no, not at all; I feel pretty comfortable saying this is maybe my least favorite of the romance novels I've read so far. totally aside from lackluster writing, clunky exposition, and slapdash plotting, this book is uninterested in engaging with its central premise - Kris and D'Vaughn meet on a reality show where they are paired up to plan a wedding in 6 weeks without letting their families figure out that their relationship is a sham - to such an absurd and infuriating degree that I have to wonder why Higgins even bothered.

that's all for now, June will hopefully be MUCH more full considering I've already finished three books and still have nearly three weeks to go + a whole heap of queer books checked out from the library! xoxo

#reading updates #bookblr

[arcane-abomination]

I don’t really use the label of “shaman” as much as I used to but it’s still an integral part of my craft. In short Shamanism is a sacred practice that involves a practitioner interacting with the spirit world, most typically through altered states of consciousness or divinations. It can be a cultural based practice but it doesn’t have to be, that means each shaman is going to have their own unique way to connect with the otherworld and their own unique techniques and magickal correspondences.

For me, as a chaos practitioner and cosmic occultist, I have my own beliefs and spiritual enlightenment that has given rise to some more “unique“ practices amongst new age shamanism but it’s still shamanism at its core. Even still, there are a couple common themes that I do work with as a whole, one of those is the use of the shamans bag.

Now it should be understood that the bag can have many names depending not just on the individual but also the culture should the shaman have a cultural based practice. With these many names also comes many varying understandings and items incorporated into widely unique belief systems. Two examples of such things would be the Native American Medicine bag and the Celtic Crane bag. While different they both share a common ground within some form of shamanism or at the very least practices that mirror it (as not all peoples refer to their practice by the same term). As for me I like to simply refer to my bag as the “Magick Bag.”

My Bag

My bag is actually very old. I got it years ago when I was around 20 or so and unfortunately I don’t remember where. It’s black velvet and as try as I might, it’s terribly hard to keep completely clean. I have 3 cats in my home as well as a dog and an angora rabbit so I feel like I’m almost constantly taking the lint rollers to this thing. Regardless it still remains a very important item for me. As for the colors, Black is my most sacred of colors. It’s the symbol of the void, a prominent source of energy for me. Red as well is also one of my sacred colors. It represents the blood of both life and death. Lastly, the dragon embroidered on the front, is an important symbol for me as dragons have always been a part of my life in and outside of my craft. They symbolize magick as a whole for me so having it on my bag of magick is very meaningful.

This bag originally housed my first ever set of rune stones and miraculously reappeared in my life when I lost nearly everything I had. By some miracle the bag wasn’t in my box of my magick stuff when it got stolen even though I know 100% that it was. For about 5 years or so I was without it and when we moved this bag and runes suddenly reappeared in my things. I can’t explain it but it happened. Now that bag has a new home as my shamans magick bag.

What’s Inside

Inside this bag I have a multitude of items that I use. All of which help me utilize my shamanism in various ways. This u Is indeed a working bag, and is usually kept in my purse when I go places. However occasionally when I despise not to take my purse, as my wallet is actually on a lanyard around my back, I will leave it behind. So like, going to the movies, or the zoo. But for the most part it pretty much goes everywhere with me.

⚜️ Pendulums ⚜️

I keep my pendulums inside a smaller bag within my magick bag. As you can see they are each very different. One is purchased and the other is homemade but each is loved and powerful in their own way.

• Silver Chained Pendulum - This bab is named Astrion and is the first pendulum I ever had. He is made of steal and a dark Amythest, and symbolizes the connection to the metaphysical world. It is used for connecting with my spirit court, guides, guardians, etc.

• Black Chained Pendulum - This pendulum is unnamed and made with an old necklace chain, plastic blood drop beads, and a piece of a deer jaw with the teeth still in it. The jaw itself symbolizes communication with the dead and the blood shaped beads add to this energy. This pendulum is souly for nevromancy work. I actually have s as board drawn for it inside my grimoire.

⚜️ My Spirit Court ⚜️

These are vessels for my spirit court. Spirit guides that aid me in my walk. They are all very precious to me and as such I like to keep them with me. Now, as I describe each one below I will avoid using their names out of respect.

• White Wolf - This represents my Shaman guide. In some beliefs, the shaman achieves their shaman abilities by working with a personal guide. Some practices have these spirits as temporary while others make them a permanent part of the individuals craft. This latter view is how I work. This wolf guide has been with me since childhood and has aided me on many endeavors.

• Obsidian Skull - This is my personal familiar. I created him as a thoughtform to assist me and he’s been by my side for years now.

• Rose Quartz Dragon - This is the vessel for my dragon guardian. Within draconic witchcraft Dragon spirits are born connected to one particular person. They are their partner in magick. This represents mine.

• Black Raven - This guide is my void guide. He assists me by bringing void energy to my magick. I met him only a couple days after I met my wolf guide. So he’s also been by my side for many years.

⚜️ Other Items ⚜️

These are the last pieces that make up my bag. They are the other tools that I can use when I am doing my work. Each one is cleansed and blessed every new moon.

• Howlite Skull - A vessel for spirits of the dead to attach to.

• Three Stones - These are my most sacred stones. The Obsidian calls void energy, the amythest calls various energies of the metaphysical, and the jasper calls energies of life and death magick depending on what I require.

• Mirror - This is used as a portal to call spirits as well as a baneful tool should I need.

• Pocket Watch - the battery in this watch is dead, and along with the rib cage motif reflects death. Therefore it is a vessel for a personal death god I work with.

• Protection Rune - This was given to me by a friend. I carry it to protect myself and my space in all that I do.

• Key - The key is used as a tool to open doorways and portals for spirits.

Conclusion

In closing I want to reiterate that what’s in my bag is what works for me! What you decide to use in your own should reflect what you find powerful. Don’t just put something in it because some witch online told you to. And remember, a shamans bag is a very special piece of them. It shouldn’t be taken too lightly. So if you decide making a bag is right for you, please be respectful of the items and the bc Ah itself, as it represents an extraordinary connection.

#paganism #witchcraft #pagans of tumblr #chaos magician #chaos magick #eldritch magic #witches of tumblr #chaos witch #eldritch witch #chaos witchcraft #shamanic #shamanism #shaman

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this week (Last week of Year 3!)

4 Fascinating documentaries:

🍿 The Love Of Movies- The Story Of American Film Criticism, a light 2009 documentary about the first 100 years of (mostly print) criticism, from the silent era to the Internet. Narrated in somehow outdated intonation, still it provided interesting background and details to a story I know well, but not completely. 8/10.

🍿 “The only valid censorship of ideas is the right of people not to listen.”

I've never seen the show, so the quality documentary Smothered: The Censorship Struggles of the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour was all new to me. How a folksy charming comedy show got too edgy for network television at the end of the 60's. Actual victims of cancel culture.

RIP, Tom Smothers, Musician and Scourge of CBS Censors!

🍿 "We had a blast out in the desert. Everybody was getting loaded, and grass was 30 bucks a kilo...”

Let's get lost, a jazzy, impressionistic 1988 riff about my favorite smoky balladeer, trumpeter Chet Baker, made just before he fell to his death from a second story balcony in an Amsterdam hotel. The tortured "Prince of Cool", speedball-addict, James Dean lookalike player whose feminine singing style was one of a kind.

I'd much rather listen to Chet Baker & Bill Evans's 'Legendary Sessions', or any of his other recordings, than this hero-worshiped, free-wheeling Cinéma vérité footage.

But now I want to see 'All the Fine Young Cannibals' which was inspired by Baker's life.

🍿 Agnès Varda's 1968 piece of agitprop, Black Panthers, shot in Oakland during the 'Free Huey' campaign. Worth watching.

🍿

Werner Herzog's stunning masterpiece, Aguirre, the Wrath of God, an unforgiving descent into folly and madness. The plundering conquistadors lost in the jungle and barely navigating rickety rafts on the wild rapids. Heart of Darkness epic at the end of the world.

(Photo Above).

🍿

My masterpiece, a smart Argentinian drama about a lifelong friendship between two older gentlemen, a grumpy painter who doesn't give a shit and his worldly art dealer/manager, who carries him through. 7/10.

🍿

"you're gonna do great"

My 4th of Nicole Holofcener's works, You hurt my feelings. A small, intelligent story about always trying to make people feel better. A writer overhears her husband confessing to her brother-in-law that he hates her new book, even though he always assures her how much he loves it. Pleasant enough, NYC based drama, but eventually only a mild take. With David Gross. 6/10

🍿

The Philadelphia Story, a famous screwball 'Comedy of remarriage', a genre popular in the 1930s and 1940s. It circumvented The Production Code of the day which found stories about divorce too "scandalous". Katharine Hepburn was a socialite named Tracy Lord (No connection...), and she had to choose between three suitors the day before her second wedding. She also has a smart-ass little sister who sings "Lydia, the Tattooed Lady".

More Jimmy Stewart in a new Nerdwriter essay, comparing a scene from 'A shop around the corner' with the same scene at 'You've got mail'.

🍿

Re-watch: Children of Men, a chilling, retro-futuristic dystopian thriller set in totalitarian 2027, which is frighteningly similar to our own late-capitalist, repressive nightmare. Bleak saga of the youngest baby in the world, a world full of hatred, hopelessness, and Abu Ghraib. Only 4 years away... 10/10.

[I was going to follow this up with Shoot ’Em Up, another gritty action movie from same year 2007 and which also starred Clive Owen as a drifter who rescues a newborn from being killed by assassins. But it was so shoddily-made, I lasted exactly 2 minutes...]

🍿

The very first avant-garde film from 1921, Lichtspiel Opus I, made by German experimental filmmaker Walther Ruttmann.

🍿

"Find the seed... Shape the soil... Speed the harvest..."

I'm always looking for an excuse to watch Michael Clayton again. Too bad that this time is because Arthur Edens died (in real life).

The laconic "janitor", after an all night poker game, stops his Benz to look at horses.

One of my all-time favorite thrillers, with a perfect script and tight dialogue. His use of euphemisms, so understated, so deep in the weeds.

If anybody knows a more compact thriller, please let me know.

RIP, Tom Wilkinson, Shiva, the God of Death!

🍿

I didn't get the Chilean magical realist fable The Cow Who Sang a Song Into the Future, by first time director Francisca Alegría. It opens like a dreamy 'Man who fell to earth' symbolism, with a drowned woman emerging from the depths of the river, where she may or may not had committed suicide decades ago. Dead fish float, flock of birds form murmurations, and an estranged family behave strangely in the milk farm of their childhood. There's also a transgender grandchild who bonds with his maybe-dead grandmother, environmental disaster looming, family secrets that remain unexplained, and cows, who may sing into the future. But I didn't understand their song at all.

🍿

Slalom is another debut feature by a new French female director. A young downhill skier adores her trainer who comes to takes advantage of her innocence. It holds 100% on Rotten Tomatoes, but I hated it. I've been developing a low tolerance for stories of mistreatment, exploitation and abuse, or to watch another determined coach being tough with his young trainees. 3/10.

🍿

Alexander Skarsgård [Stellan's son] X 2:

🍿 Skarsgård wrote and directed a short film in 2003, To kill a child, a simple drama about an ordinary man who accidentally kills a child, while driving to the beach.

🍿 2 re-watch: On the Rolling Stone Magazine's list of '10 Best TV Episodes of 2023', the No. 1 was “Connor’s Wedding”, Succession Season 4, Episode 3. And indeed, Roy Logan's off-camera all-too-soon death, and his children's grief and devastation, was incredibly mesmerizing.

Also, “With Open eyes”, the tragic series finale, which encapsulated all the threads from 4 seasons of intrigues and disappointments. From the dinner scene where Skarsgård reeled Tom by “letting him sing for his supper”, to Tom's final coronation in the the SUV, together with Shiv his defeated wife.

🍿

The Newly Remastered Pee-wee’s Playhouse Christmas Special from 1988. A kitschy piece of subversive 'Camp' aimed at 4 year olds as well as closeted gay teenagers. With dozens of celebrity cameos, including Grace Jone, Magic Johnson, Cher & Larry Fishburne, and running gags about fruitcakes. Absurd and mildly fetishistic.

🍿

The Bear is a universally-acclaimed new series about a working class sandwich restaurant in Chicago. As an ex-chef who worked in similarly chaotic environments for nearly a decade, this story was unrealistic in the extreme. There was too much manufactured drama and way too many cooks to accommodate a simple hot dog stand. And the attempts to turn it into an experimental, hi-end Nathan Myhrvold spot were laughable. Lots of name droppings: Noma, Alinea, CIA, and lots of food-porn shots and plate-sets. They even brought Oliver Platt from the 10 times better film 'Chef'. It was written by somebody who obviously never worked as a cook. I somehow watched all of  Season 1, but didn't stay for seconds. 3/10.

🍿

Platonic, a new sitcom (without the laugh tracks), taking the 'When Harry met sally' concept, and replacing it with Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne. I could only stay for the Pilot episode. 2/10.

🍿  

Throw-back to the "Art project”:  

Adora loves to cook.

🍿  

(My complete movie list is here)

#movies

[keldamuzik-weartamz]

Why Keldamuzik Started Tamz?

Why Keldamuzik started Tamz? Keldamuzik, an American artist, singer, songwriter, actress, TV host, entrepreneur, producer, public speaker, and an entrepreneur launched her “Tamz – The World’s Flyest Berets”. Berets have never been introduced before in the black community nor has it been branded in Hip-Hop culture.

What is a beret?

A beret is a soft, round, flat-crowned cap, usually of woven, hand-knitted wool, crocheted cotton, wool felt, or acrylic fibre. Mass production of berets began in 19th century Spain and France and the beret remains associated with these countries.

Beret fits snugly around the head, and can be “shaped” in a variety of ways – in the Americas it is commonly worn pushed to one side. In Central and South America, local custom usually prescribes the manner of wearing the beret; there is no universal rule and older gentlemen usually wear it squared on the head, jutting forward. It can be worn by both men and women.

 “Tamz – The World’s Flyest Beret” has been established since October 2021 by Keldamuzik. It is a revolutionary headwear in the black community and Hip-Hop culture as it has been considered as a modern accessory.

Keldamuzik stated that “I wear my Tamz (berets) all the time, that’s how much I love the texture and the design. The fact that these are available on each color makes dressing up so much fun. I can’t pick a favorite, but I can only say I’m into bright colors a lot. Can’t wait for everyone to see the berets. It’s been a long journey to create them, but it was all worth it!”. She launched her Tamz brand as a creative headgear for everyone to style with generations today being fashionable.

Currently, Tamz is being introduced to Hip-Hop culture that stands alongside to having “cold outfit”. Hip-Hop culture is side by side with being “cool”, being fashionable as it is. Artists now have a sky-limit option on being stylish that depends on one’s personality.

Tamz is a modern brand that provides a revolutionary fashion, inclusive of Hip-Hop culture and black community. Generations today take a fancy to being modernist and stylish. Sky’s the limit to express one’s selves appearance and personality, being plain as you inclined for, or represent through different accessories. 

Fancy a beret?

Visit our website at weartamz.com

#keldamuzik #fashion #beret #enterpreneur #enterprenuership #headwear #fashionable #hip hop #hip hop culture

[shaunreeduwm]

Multicultural Americ Blog #3

The Shade Room is a famous media company founded in 2014 by Angelica Nwandu. It focuses on top news stories involving celebrities, sports, pop culture, love, education, fashion, entertainment, and local news from around the nation about and on African Americans. You can view content from The Shade Room on multiple social media sites, including Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, Twitter, and Youtube. It relates to our topics and screenings because The Shade Room gives us in-depth information on our community that will not be heard or seen on a city's local news channel. Is our news not shown on local news channels because it to urban? Is it leading to showing success in the community?

When reviewing Race vs. Visual Technology PowerPoint, I couldn't help but re-read words from Hank Willis Thomas Crossroads, 2006. "So much of white America cannot see the shapes made out so clearly by most of black America...they are blind to how black folks often experience law enforcement." Also, Raise Up, 2013. "Stereotyping a race as drug addicts, criminals, and gang members and so might deserve to get shot." "White criminals are given the benefit of the doubt, and an attempt is made to understand or justify while criminals of color do not have the luxury of "presumed innocent." Whenever I turn on the local news, we are portrayed as drug dealers, gang bangers, a menace to society, and most of all, criminals, as Thomas mentioned. The Shade Room releases stories on Black excellence—for example, the educational achievement of young Black men receiving full-ride scholarships to college. Young black children creating small businesses and the success it has. New inventions from the African American youth. Were is that news seen on our local news stations? It's not, so we revert to social media platforms like The Shade Room, Black News, and blkculture_.

If you want to keep knowledge away from a black person, put it in a book. I have heard this rhetoric so many times in my life. But it has moved on to a different platform, one more current. If you want to keep valuable knowledge away from a black person, keep it out of mainstream media. African Americans have surpassed the stereotype that we don't like or know how to read. Now that we are becoming educated and intelligent about investments and living. The system must find a new way to isolate the African African American community from gaining success. So the next best thing is not to mention it all, harp on their downfall, neglect their achievements, and continue to condition them negatively through posting negative impacts from our community across news platforms nationwide. That's what the media platform has come to. We turn to other social media platforms to stay aware of what's happening in our community. If we can't be accepted and have the same advances as other races, you create your own. This is supposed to be America, where everyone's treated equally. How can one who helped build this country be so looked down on. African Americans have to find loopholes to gain acceptance in a country they practically made.

[a-robots-portfolio]

Day 1 (Part 1) || Evaluon

The excursion week started off great, because it started off with robots. Naturally, that gives any museum the benefit of the doubt, and Evaluon did not disappoint. Even just walking into the lobby made me excited, because they had these huge black and white portraits circling the top of the wall; each of them an individual who had a particular vision of the future, from Leonardo Da Vinci to Greta Thunberg and more. My personal favourite was, of course, Isaac Asimov (author of I, Robot and The Bicentennial Man, among other amazing works) and the fact that he was included filled me with hope. (I'm not much of a museum person, but if my favourite robot author is there, it's gotta be good, right?) Tragically I didn't see much of him in the expositions, but it definitely set the tone for the sort of things that were on display.

The museum was split up into various rings (the building itself was shaped like a UFO, it was... fascinating) that climbed higher and higher around the edges. Each ring had a different theme-- I made the unfortunate mistake of not really taking a picture of the whole, but perhaps there's maps to be found online. I took a lot of pictures overall (they didn't say it wasn't allowed, so uhh... free advertising?) but tragically I can only insert 10 pictures per post, so I tried to make a selection for you guys.

One of the first things we encountered was a small robot that could type the phrase "I work" on an iPad, before rapidly deleting it again and starting over (same little robot, I too have anxiety about everything I write). Then my attention was rapidly absorbed by a literal wall of text arcing around about half of the first ring, each section detailing a dilemma or topic concerning the future, ranging from robot workforces to eternal life and paradise to doomsday. I absolutely loved what they did with the little quote sections at the bottom, the typography felt very in-style with the exposition and I loved recognizing quotes and song lyrics amidst the information. They were also fascinating topics, and when I first saw this I was like "yes. this will be my term 4 project". Foolish little me had no idea how many times I would think that that day, but we all have lapses of judgement /lh.

Anyway, there was a lot more to see: lots of examples of robots in popular media, a good amount of which I recognized (as resident robot nerd, that was kind of a given). There was also a wall with magnets where you could build your own robot, and we built this... monstrosity... yeah...

I also saw this cool screenshot which I believe is from an anime... I'm gonna have to check that one out, it looks interesting (if you see me ranting about an anime on my main sometime soon,,, uh,,, no comment)

floating blocks! idk i just thought they were cool. also i played space invaders (i was so proud i got the console to work, nobody else in my class knew how to work it). Oh, and there was a Back To The Future car. that was pretty neat.

There were also things I didn't remember to take pictures of-- there was a video about a Kitty AI, a supposedly benevolent cat AI that took over the world and tooootally had the best intentions. The cat loves you. Yup. So safe.

Also there were some little interviews with people, i took random notes:

Stine Jensen: stated that the difference between humans and robots are that humans have emotions

Martin Koolhoven: really excited about AI, says it's the "biggest invention": claims it will take control of the world someday, he just hopes we'll be part of that world when it comes

Pupul Bisht: storytelling about the future is often told from the perspective of those in power: if you tell the story of the future from the perspective of a different culture, you might get very different ideas than those of stereotypical European/American utopias

Some other things I noted: the schools from Astroboy (they had a very interesting system that I want to look deeper into). I also wrote down Over The Moon. Uhm. I don't remember why. I just did. yerrrp

#evaluon #excursie week #excursion #term 4 #week 2 #reflection #future #technology #robots

[anapoulin]

Reflections

I will use this space throughout the course to write short reflections/notes/thoughts on the texts, multimedia, and coursework provided.

Week One-

One thing that stuck with me from this week's lessons was the fact that minstrel music was the first form of popular American music. I think I've always assumed the first form of popular American music was European orchestral music. But, hence the name, that's European not American. This has made me really think about how so much of our culture as Americans is built off the backs of African Americans.

Week Two-

Something that I took away from this week's lessons was the way blues divas used their music as a way of scholarly commentary and expression. It's interesting to me how they were denied the usual forms of expression of these things at the time, such as written publication, but despite that found a way to be heard.

Week Three-

One thing that stuck with me from the lessons this week was the Big Mama Thornton and her music being stolen. Recently, there's been a lot of discourse around a new movie coming out about Elvis, who famously took the song Hound Dog from Big Mama, giving her no credit. I was shocked to find out that even in today's more progressive modern age there was no highlight given to this fact in the movie or in the discussion surrounding the movie. I think it's another painful reminder that the industry is still not equally for women of color.

Week Four-

I liked the information about Hendrix's national anthem performance at Woodstock from this week. My family is a very big classic rock family and that's a performance that I've watched about 100 times from childhood till now. It makes a lot of sense now having learned more about his life this week and his moving to the UK/his aggravation with the direction the US was heading towards with the war etc. I always knew he was performing it that way as some form of protest but it carries more weight now.

Week Five-

Loved learning about Afro-futurism. This concept of feeling "alien" is interesting because it's not necessarily in the negative way. It seems like Afro-futurism takes that very real alienation Black Americans feel but reclaims it as a more positive thing. Like how in Stevie Wonder's Saturn, he's saying on "saturn" his people don't have wars or poverty etc. So therefore being an "alien' is a melancholy sense of pride.

Week Six-

I liked learning about the origins of hip hop in this week's lessons. Grandmaster Flash and early hip hop stars use of record sampling has arguably redefined the modern pop industry. It's something I utilize myself as a music technology major. When I learned about early hip hop in another class at Northeastern, we'd learned about the actual process of sampling using records at the time, and the different ways they would manipulate the record playing on the needle to create the unique sound.

Week Seven-

From this week's lessons, I want to reflect on what we learned about the Black Eyed Peas. Growing up I assumed they were just a fun pop group. I was totally unaware of their different musical/cultural pursuits and impacts. I actually wasn't even aware that they were a fully African American group. Therefore it was very insightful to learn about how a group that shaped a large part of my childhood has a connection to Black popular music.

[pinkpruneclodwolf]

Now that I've aired out one of my gripes time for another.

Scarabia ocs

Particularly the female ocs.

As a member of the African American community I can't speak on South Asian/Middle-eastern (I'm using an umbrella terms but please correct me) issues within the twst community but I've seen some Scarabia ocs that all follow a certain motif, especially the afab ocs.

Of course some will probably chime in saying that they don't mind these depictions but the people in the community that I follow have had some gripes about these caricatures, enough to make a bingo chart about said caricatures.

During my research on art history and architecture due to wanting to expand upon twst world building specifically ones that pertain to Scalding Sands and Afterglow Savannah, I've stumbled upon the fashion as well.

This map doesn't provide much in terms of locating where Scalding Sands or Afterglow Savannah is located but it's said that Scalding is located near/on the Peninsula, I theorized that Afterglow is nearest to the Coral Sea kinda like the "Horn of Africa"

But this isn't a geography post this is a post about fashion. As we know Scarabia had been renovated to look similar to his father's palace (that follows the Sultan's palace in Aladdin) and I'd assume that Scarabia got a uniform change as well.

The Twisted Wonderland wiki for Jamil states that:

a snake armband that curls on his upper right arm. The snake and choker match with Kalim. [They] wears a cropped black vest with gold detail and red lapels over a sleeveless black hoodie with red trim on the inside, plain other than the gold design on the hood. Like Kalim, [they] wear a belt resembling safety tape wrapped around [they're] waist, with the long end trailing down. The belt is imprinted with the name of [they're] dorm, along with a snake insignia. Under the hoodie, [they] typically have dark red cloth wrapped around [they're] waist with gold designs on it. [They] wears black parachute pants with red flame designs and black sandals with a gold scarab design.

I'm more of a visual person so I used a photo of mob students for reference:

Now, this is an all boys' school if y'all don't know, so there isn't a female dorm uniform at all meaning that anyone with an afab leaning oc can get creative with their dorm uniform.

I generally believe that female ocs can just wear the boy's uniform, albeit tailored to their shape and have proper undergarments provided for and just call it a day.

However...

Before I address the fashion I have to address how people perceive Scarabia and by proxy south asian/ middle-eastern culture.

As we know Kalim has a big family due to his father having multiple wives, and with his family being close to royalty we can only imagine how large it is on that side, which I already believe that the Al Asims are more spread out so that if Kalim up and dies there will be replacements in line.

But thats the problem. There's a common belief among twst fans that Kalim has a harem or at the very least will have one. And though I can't say he will or won't why is that the first thought comes when they see a Middle-eastern boy whose rich (and whose family is protected by slaves)?

Like, this is a teenage boy whose family is so rich that assassins are coming for his throat 24/7, he doesn't know when death is coming, he has school work he probably needs to do, why would he be worried about girls? Especially since he couldn't participate in Ghost Marriage because once he kisses Eliza he's coming with her and her posse which is a no-no considering Kalim is the heir of the Al Asims.

Now let's talk about Malleus, Tsunotaro, Hornton, poster boy of Twisted Wonderland.

The amount of fanfictions I've read where Malleus and Yuu (typically female) are star-crossed soulmates and that in of itself isn't necessarily a bad thing but when you compare the perception that Kalim is more prone to polygamy while Malleus is more inclined towards monogamy as if our lovely Malleus wouldn't be open to polygamy if he were deemed more approachable speaks volumes.

Don't get me started on the fact that yall depict Malleus as some hapless boy who isn't hundred years older than the entire twst cast and isn't one of the top 5 mages of twst. Of course fear left him bereft of social interaction but when Yuu interacts with him the player sees a more teasing and playful side to him—

I digress, I digress, I digress.

Let's delve into the reason as to why some of yall believe Kalim is prone to harems.

History lesson:

A distinct, imaginary vision of the harem emerged in the West starting from the 17th century, when Europeans became aware of Muslim harems housing numerous women. In contrast to the medieval European views, which conceived Muslim women as victimized but powerful through their charms and deceit, during the era of European colonialism the "imaginary harem" came to represent what Orientalist scholars saw as an abased and subjugated status of women in the Islamic civilization. Wikipedia on "Western Representation" of Harems.

And then came a centuries-old theme in Western culture where there are depictions of European women (who are seen as pure) think of Mozart's opera "The Abduction from the Seraglio"

Or One Thousand and One Nights, the story that kickstarted it all. By presenting harems as as a personal brothel.

This notion that harems were where numerous women lounged in suggestive poses, directing their strong but oppressed sexuality toward a single man in a form of "competitive lust" added fuel to the Western ideology that the West was more culturally superior therefore justifying colonial enterprises.

Am I blaming harems in the Middle East? Absolutely not. Colonialism was gonna happen either way, they just wanted more reasons.

Here's some articles:

This circles back to whyyyy I'm rubbed the wrong way when it comes to female Scarabia ocs.

In the twst space we've seen the trope "one girl in an all boys school" get played like it was Doja Cat's Say So, going off of each other bar for bar like Drake to Souija Boy.

Even I've fallen into that trope.

Which is why I fear that twst has become hostile to nonbinary and male presenting folks, and that worries me because I saw a post where a male twst enjoyer get asked some bullshit about being a female hater and they had to make a post about it.

After the whole Thirteen debacle where the devs used the pronouns they/them for her the vitriol that was spewed that day surpassed the eng twst whining by a longshot, I'm only speaking on these issues now because I refuse to let this baby fandom fall into that same bullshit.

But I'm circling back to my last point about the "one girl in an all boys school", as much as people try to advocate for Yuu being gender neutral, the general consensus is that the twst fandom favors afab leaning Yuu, its why Yuuken in the Twisted Comic was side eyed a like that.

The idea of a boy being summoned shattered the idea of escapism that a lot of female twst fans had:

That if NRC was real they sure as hell weren't gonna get summoned.

Which is why I'm worried about female ocs and the story beats they follow: reverse harems, getting revealed, having to hide their gender identity like Mulan.

I realize now how harmful that is to trans twst fans and how seeing this influx of binary and heteronormative views are perpetuated in a game where Pomefiore exists, that tries to break gendered stereotypes. It's why Epel is in the Dorm in the first place to unlearn that toxic masculine mindset and gendered idea.

Don't even get me started on the feminine coded characters as well.

By drawing the (assumedly singular) female oc sorted in Scarabia in a more revealing outfit as if they don't have a dorm uniform fucks me up because at the end of the day these are boys, fictional boys, but boys nonetheless.

I try to be conscience about how I present my own female oc because no teen girl (especially in this fandom) would ever feel comfortable wearing that type of clothing in a situation where they are just one girl. I still feel sick being around boys for too long bruh what.

Which is why I advocate for a better form of wear. I'm not gonna tell y'all what to do, but I am gonna tell yall to have some form of awareness.

What I mean by that is have your female Scarabia oc wear salwar kameez that follows the dorms dress code, its south asian wear for women that is more of a pants and long tailed and/or knee length shirt common in urban areas of heat, its made out of light weight fabric that is sure to keep the body relatively cool.

In some areas its said that both men and women wear a sarong, a wrapped skirt long garment. Its also found within Northern, Western, and East Africa as well as Southeast Asia, Southern Asia, and Western Asia.

Not to mention the Lungi found in the Indian Subcontinent, a garment commonly worn by men after the 12th century and is usually tied around the waist.

The Izaar is found in the Arabian peninsula but is more of a traditional Yemen garb but is still found in the "Horn of Africa" and other South Asian parts as well, but it's also worn by men so that's a no.

Middle-eastern women will wear a jilbaab but that would imply that your chara follows the practice of islam, I've only scene my aunt wear a hijab so I can't say much on muslim women,, but considering the fact that yall might be white so im just gonna drop the article and begone:

Fuxk it, mediterranean as well:

Now, I pray I did this right because I do not want female scarabia ocs created by white people to follow anymore hollow as stereotypes.

I also pray I did right by @najmaviper and @themoonsbeloved because they were the blogs most outspoken about the portrayl of poc in twst and so I was urged to do the same.

#twst #twisted wonderland #super post #scarabia oc griping #dear lord i hope i did right by my idols #this is all over the place but it needs to b said #scarabia oc

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update

hello lovers, it's once again time to blather at you about my bookish pursuits. last month was a weird and paltry hodgepodge; this month I feel I can safely say I've gotten my proverbial groove back. I suspect next month will be very largely shaped by book recommendations I picked up from various workshops this weekend at a MBLGTACC, but I suppose we'll have to wait until the end of November to see.

in the meantime, what have I been reading?

Belly of the Beast: The Politics of Anti-Fatness as Anti-Blackness (Da'Shaun L. Harrison, 2021) - a small book that hits like lightning. Harrison draws heavily on Sabrina Strings' excellent Fearing the Black Body and expands in even more radical directions, examining the ways in which anti-fatness and anti-Blackness collude to demonize Black masculine folks in particular. the way Harrison talks about the concept of health is particularly shattering, as they underline the ways in which modern American concepts of health have been shaped by ideas that exclude Black bodies inherently. I actually thought of Harrison a lot this weekend while I was listening to Imani Barbarin speaking, because she made a similar point in connection to queerness, talking about how enslaved people running away from plantations was considered a manifestation of mental unwellness in much the same way that queer expressions of gender and sexuality have been. I love digging up these seemingly ubiquitous ideas and finding new angles at which to poke at and complicate them, and Harrison is phenomenal at facilitating that.

Jade War (Fonda Lee, 2019) - and now for something completely different: the second installment of Fonda Lee's door-stopping Green Bone Saga. holy FUCK these books rule; I'm never NOT having a blast reading them. Jade War builds on the conflicts established in Jade City and expand them to a more international level, jetting the surviving members of the Kaul family off to new countries to grapple with the cultural impact of their magical, ability-enhancing jade across the world. there were a couple of moments in this book that had me genuinely gasping out loud, mainly because Lee's ability to balance the tension of day to day politics and business with sudden eruptions of brutality and danger is absolutely unmatched. I'm really excited to see the Kaul family starting to raise the next generation, and I can't wait to see how the family's fate keeps unfolding in Jade Legacy.

One Day We'll All Be Dead and None of This Will Matter (Scaachi Koul, 2017) - I've been a fan of Koul's journalism for years - she's mean and she's funny and she's always right - but I have Tajja Isen to thank for getting me to finally read her essay collection. you may recall Isen's own collection, Some of My Best Friends, from last month's roundup; in the chapter critiquing the demands placed on essay writers of color, she highlights Koul as one of the best writers working. and I have to agree; when she gets personal Koul writes with a kind of hysterical melancholy about nearly everything - about her immigrant parents, particularly her prickly father; about her older white boyfriend; about the ways in which her body marked her as different growing up in a white Canadian neighborhood. Koul's chapter reflecting on her cousin's exhausting traditional Indian wedding was painful and sweet and will, I think, do something to anyone who regards their family's traditions with an equal mix of huge love and a deep desire to depart. I hope Koul's got another essay collection in her, because I would love to crawl in her brain and live in her thoughts on the pandemic for a bit.

The Sandman: Dream Country (Neil Gaiman et al, 1991) - okay, so, we've gotten to the bit where (in my extremely humble opinion) the Sandman actually starts getting really good. the stories collected in Dream Country particularly rule because they're not really about Morpheus at all; he (or, sometimes, his sister Death) are just Around, a small part in other people's stories unfolding around them. I often say that I think a lot of the best Batman stories barely have any Batman, and that also applies here; it's an especially pleasant breather before Season of Mists starts really getting the Plot rolling. the Sandman is, of course, a story about stories, capable of holding almost any kind of story you can imagine, so it's fun to watch Gaiman kick back and get weird for a bit.

A Prayer for the Crown-Shy (Becky Chambers, 2022) - having been feeling a bit depressed of late I decided to make a conscious effort to lighten up my reading a bit, and our queer sci-fi solarpunk queen Becky Chambers had my back as always. A Prayer for the Crown-Shy is the second installation in the Monk and Robot series of novellas, and follows our titular monk and robot as they descend from the wilderness where they met and begin introducing the robot, Mosscap, into a human society that has gone generations without seeing any robots. what ensues is a gentle story about travel, belonging, and what it means to be a person who's part of the world, what we contribute and what we owe to one another. I read this book in a day and cradled it like a mug of hot chocolate the whole time, feeling warm and cozy long after the last page.

The Sandman: Season of Mists (Neil Gaiman et al, 1992) - friends, this is one of my favorite plots in the entire series: our boy Morpheus gets clowned into going to Hell to free his ex girlfriend, only to find that Lucifer is calling it a day and shutting Hell down - and leaving Morpheus with the key. what ensues is the world's worst dinner party as figures from all across creation and mythology descend on Morpheus' house to try to threaten or tempt him into giving them the key, all while he's already in the middle of a depressive episode and really doesn't want to be doing any of this. absolutely delicious, 10/10 from me. I'm happy every time Morpheus is having a terrible horrible no good very bad day.

How to Read Now (Elaine Castillo, 2022) - the thing about this book is that it rules and makes me want to read everything Elaine Castillo has ever written, because she's insightful and mean and funny and furiously, deeply principled in how she writes. her book feels like an excellent companion to Some of My Best Friends (I really owe Tajja Isen this month) in how it really probes into the expectations placed on marginalized writers to be Marginalized above all else in their writing, the way publishers and readers alike focus on marginalized writers as tools of education and social betterment rather than just, you know, artists creating art. she has some CHOICE words about the severe limitations of analyzing writing purely through the lens of Good Representation (spoilers: it sucks) that made me cheer out loud. in a very weird and unpleasant cultural moment of anti-intellectualism and a buckwild aversion to literacy you need to read How to Read Now literally right now.

Harley Quinn: The Animated Series: The Eat. Bang! Kill. Tour (Tee Franklin and Max Sarin, 2022) - the thing about this six issue series is that it's, like, impossible to read it without the vile online harassment Tee Franklin faced for writing the series weighing heavily in my mind. she caught the usual bullshit you'd expect from exactly the kind of people you'd expect who were angry that a queer disabled Black woman was writing queer characters with a diverse supporting cast, which is annoying but typical, but then there was the brigade of picrew pride flag icons flinging wild accusations of lesbophobia at Franklin for everything from pointing out that the Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy she's writing aren't lesbians (that's pretty obvious if you've ever even casually watched the show this series spins off from) to making Ivy "emotionally abusive" (see: writing conflict that's more than addressed and resolved by the series' end). that harassment campaign is also, I suspect, strongly motivated by Franklin's status as a disabled queer Black woman, wrapped up in social justice terminology to make it palatable to the picrew icons, and it casts a long shadow across this series. which is like... fine, by the way. it's just fine. it makes some nice callbacks to the show (which I really like, despite my usual no tv policies) without ever quite managing to hit quite the same tone; it's a little too saccharine in ham-fisted in some places for me, and later issues are reliant on thought bubbles in a way that I find grating for no particular reason. but on the flipside it establishes that Harley and Ivy are immediately starting their relationship by fucking on, like, every available surface, which I love for them! I actually think it's great and cool when queer artists get to make stuff that's kind of mid for huge corporations; god knows straight white men have been getting away with it for decades. so what if the plot could have used some tighter editing? that's true of literally every comic series I've ever read. I'll be reading Franklin's Harley Quinn follow-up, Legion of Bats, just as soon as I can get my hands on it, partially out of spite, and I personally hope DC keeps her on the payroll for a million years.

Our Wives Under the Sea (Julia Armfield, 2022) - oh, what a novel! short and sharp and aching, romantic in the most painful way imaginable. alternating chapters are narrated by Miri, whose wife has just returned from a submarine voyage gone wrong acting nothing like herself, and Leah, the aforementioned wife. Miri narrates the present, in which she is exhausted and exasperated by the unknowable woman who's come back seemingly in Leah's place, while Leah's chapters explain what went wrong on the submarine with the chill of steadily increasing dread. it's about love and devotion and also the fucked up things that happen in the darkest part of the ocean; what's not to love?

#bookblr #reading updates

[thimbil]

Having some thoughts about the references and inspirations used for the Bad Batch’s designs.

So Boba Fett is my absolute favorite character and Temeura Morrison was perfect casting. I went to see the 2008 TCW movie in theaters because I was so excited to see him again, even if he was animated. You can imagine my disappointment. Whoever was on screen was not Temeura Morrison. You could sort of see a resemblance if you squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. They replaced Temeura with Racially Ambiguous G.I. Joe. If I didn’t know better and someone told me the animated clones are space Italians from the moon of New Jersey I would buy it. One Million Brothers Pizzeria and Italian Bistro. Not that there’s something wrong with being space Italian, I just don’t think it’s the right choice for the Fetts. The design got slightly improved by season 7 but it still bugs the hell out of me.

I did eventually get into the show later and (of course) got invested in the clones. Unfortunately, they were largely sidelined by the Jedi storylines. Out of the two new main characters created for TCW, Ahsoka definitely got more development and focus than Rex. When they announced The Bad Batch, I was excited to see a show specifically devoted to the clones… at least that’s what it said on the tin. We have all seen what lurks beneath those stylish helmets.

Jango Fett, you are NOT the father.

So who is?

Based on interviews with Filoni, it sounds like the Bad Batch was a George Lucas idea. And like all his ideas, it’s super derivative. The original trilogy directly lifted elements from sci fi serials, westerns, and samurai movies, more specifically Kurosawa films like The Hidden Fortress. For The Bad Batch character designs, the influence is obviously American action and adventure movies.

Now let’s get specific. Bad Batch, who’s your daddy?

Hunter

Sylvester Stallone as Rambo in First Blood 1982. That bandana has become an integral part of the iconic action hero look. You see a character wearing one and it’s a visual shorthand for either “this character is a tough guy” like Billy played by Sonny Landham in Predator 1987, or “this character thinks he is/wants to be a tough guy” like Brand played by Josh Brolin in The Goonies 1985 or Edward Frog played by Corey Feldman in The Lost Boys 1987.

Hunter’s model is closest to the original clone base. If you look closely you will see the eyebrows are straighter with a much lower angle to the arch. His nose is also not the same shape as a standard clone like Rex, including a narrower bridge. It’s certainly not Temeura Morrison’s nose. Remember what I said about space Italians? It didn’t take much to push the existing clone design to resemble an specific Italian man instead of a specific Māori man. The 23&Me came back, and Hunter inherited more than the bandana from Sylvester.

Crosshair

The long narrow nose, the sharp cheekbones, the scowl. That’s no clone, that’s just animated Clint Eastwood. Not even Young and Hot Clint Eastwood from Rawhide 1959-1965. With that hair, I’m talking Gran Torino 2008. The man of few words schtick and family friendly toothpick in lieu of cigar are pure Eastwood as The Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns A Fist Full of Dollars 1964, For a Few Dollars More 1965, and The Good the Bad and the Ugly 1966.

In a way, this is full circle because the actor Jeremy Bulloch took inspiration from Clint Eastwood for his performance as Boba Fett in ESB.

Wrecker

In an interview Filoni lists the Hulk as an (obvious) inspiration for Wrecker. Ever seen the old Hulk tv show from 1978? Well take a look at the actor who played him, Lou Ferrigno. Would you look at that. Even has his papa’s nose.

You could make the argument that Wrecker was influenced by The Rock, an appropriately buff ‘n bald Polynesian (Samoan, not Maori) man. But look at him next his Fast and Furious costar Vin Diesel and tell me which one resembles Wrecker’s character model more.

Tech

Tech is a little trickier for me to place. If he has a more direct inspiration it must be something I haven’t seen. That said, his hairline is very Bruce Willis as John McClane in Die Hard 1988. His quippiness and large glasses remind me of Shane Black as Hawkins from Predator 1987. In terms of his face, he looks a but like the result of McClane and Hawkins deciding to settle down and start a family. Although, Tech’s biggest contributors are probably just everyone on TV Trope’s list for Smart People Wear Glasses.

And finally,

Echo

Oh Echo. Considering he wasn’t created for the Bad Batch, he probably wasn’t based on a particular character or movie. But if I had to guess, his situation and appearance remind me a lot of Alex Murphy played by Peter Weller in Robocop 1987. However, Robocop explored the Man or Machine Identity Crisis with more nuance, depth, and dignity. Yikes.

The exact tropes and references used in The Bad Batch have been done successfully with characters who aren’t even human. Gizmo from Gremlins 2: The New Batch 1990 had a brief stint with the Rambo bandana. I could have picked any number of characters for Defining Feature Is Glasses but here is the most cursed version of Simon of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Suffer as I have. Marc Antony with his beloved Pussyfoot from Looney Tunes has the same tough guy with a soft center vibe as Wrecker and his Lula (also a kind of cat). Hell, in the same show we have Cad Bane sharing Cowboy Clint Eastwood with Crosshair. I actually think Bane makes a better Eastwood which is wild considering Crosshair has Eastwood’s entire face and Bane is blue.

So we’ve established you don’t need your characters to look exactly like their inspirations to match their vibe. So why go through the trouble and cost of creating completely new character designs instead of recycling and altering assets they already had on hand? Just slap on a bandana, toothpick, goggles, and make Wrecker bigger than the others while he does a Hulk pose and you’re done. Based on the general reaction to Howzer it would have been a low effort slam dunk crowd pleaser.

But they didn’t do that.

So here’s the thing. I like the tropes used in The Bad Batch. I am a fan of action adventure movies from the 80s-90s, the sillier the better. I am part of the Bad Batch’s target audience. Considering what I know about Disney and Lucasfilm, I went in with low expectations. I genuinely don’t hate the idea of seeing references to these actors and media in The Bad Batch. I don’t think basing these characters on tropes was a bad idea. If anything it’s a solid starting point for building the characters.

The trouble is nothing got built on the foundation. The plot is directionless, the pacing is wacky, and the characters have nearly no emotional depth or defining character arcs. They just sort of exist without reacting much while the story happens around them. But I can excuse all of that. You don’t stay a fan of Star Wars as long as I have not being able to cherrypick and fill in the gaps. This show has a deeper issue that shouldn’t be ignored.

Why do the animated clones bear at best only a passing resemblance to their live action actor? In interviews, Filoni wouldn’t shut up but the technological advancements in the animation for season 7. So if they are updating things, why not try to make the clones a closer match to their source material? Why did they have to look like completely different people in The Bad Batch to be “unique”? Looking like Temeura Morrison would have no bearing on their special abilities and TCW proved you can have identical looking characters and still have them be distinct. In fact, that’s a powerful theme and the source of tragedy for the clones’ narrative overall.

Here’s Filoni’s early concept art of Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter. (Interesting but irrelevant: Wrecker seems to have a cog tattoo similar to Jesse’s instead of a scar. Wouldn’t it have been funny if they kept that so when they met in season 7 one if them could say something like “Hey we’re twins!” That’s a little clone humor. Just for you guys 😘)

None of these drawings look like the clones in TCW, much less Temeura Morrison. Let’s be generous. Maybe Filoni struggles with drawing a real person’s likeness, as many people do. But he had to hand this off to other artists down the line whose job specifically involves making a stylized character resemble their actor. Yet the final designs missed the mark almost as much as this initial concept. Starting to seem as if the clones looking more like Temeura Morrison was never even on the table. It wasn’t a lack of creativity, skill or technical limitations on the part of the creative team. I don’t think there is an innocent explanation. They went out of their way to make the final product exactly how we got it.

This goes beyond homage. They could have made the same pop culture references and character tropes without completely stripping Temeura Morrison from the role he originated. It was a very purposeful choice to replace him with more immediately familiar actors from established franchises and films. It wouldn’t shock me if Filoni, Lucas, and anyone else calling the shots didn’t even think hard or care enough about the decision to immediately recognize a problem. And I don’t think they believed anyone else would either. At least no one whose opinion they cared about. Those faces are comfortingly familiar and proven bankable. They are what we’re all used to seeing after all. They’re white.

Lack of imagination, bad intentions, or simple ignorance doesn’t really matter in the end. The result is the same. Call it what it is. They replaced a man of color with a bunch of white guys. That’s by the book garden variety run of the mill whitewashing. There’s no debate worth having about it. For a fanbase that loves to nitpick things like whether or not it’s in character for Han to shoot first or Jeans Guy in the Mandalorian, we sure are quick to find excuses for clones who look nothing like their template. Why is that? If you don’t see the problem, congratulations. Your ass is showing. Pull your jeans up.

#star wars #the bad batch #unwhitewashtbb #wrecker #crosshair #tech #hunter #echo

[kadekuro]

do you have refs for your fua head-canons?

yeah! I use PureRef (tasch recommended and approved ;3) to keep all of my favorite character drawings and refs on hand.

And a reminder that all visual headcanons of the characters are valid!

its been awhile since i talked abt FUA and ive got time so im gonna ramble a bit abt my design thoughts too

Harley's Desi (indian subcontinent diaspora)!

based on my gay community mentor from when i was first figuring out i was trans (was also desi and a trans man, super cool and helped me during one of my lowest times. much love if youre still following! <3)

his hair is sometimes hard to get right bc like, desi hair tends to fall between straight and curly, but with sooo much volume, it’s so gorgeous

i actually looked up radd's design for harley (click here), along with the only other fanart of harley at the time (click here), before coming up with mine, and i liked radd's design, but i didnt wanna fall into the "black man = deep voice" hole, but also didnt wanna make a tumblr white sexyman podcast design lmao (even tho the VA for harley at the time was hella white and even the current VA ajgsfjkhaha)

i actually drew my, eli's, and radds designs all together once for a textpost! (click here)

Love is Korean, as hinted in the show through her name (Nari).

originally love was tall because i wanted a tall asian lady, but alas. also i thought she was older (the shock when you find out she doesnt know the foundation's reputation for death o-o). you can see her design got a little more soft and energetic to reflect the show's hints that she's like, around 20 or something. i love her <3

love's hair is based on like, my personal experience with having long shiny asian hair. HAIRTIES DONT STAY. every day it would just slip down slightly and make that stupid muchroom shape lmao.

also hair is SUPER IMPORTANT in a lot of asian culture, even in modern day, so long hair bc she's close to her family and still figuring out how to be independent and stuff. also it just looks nice on her, i think she can kick ass with long hair

I never actually decided on a specific background for lanc deeper than "Asian", maybe Laos on his dad's side? but I like to think he's pretty americanized (like me lol), so it's not something he thinks about too much.

i honestly don't have much to say on lanc? his design has changed the least, tho i draw him with stubble more often now. also i super project onto him lmao

Klein is white.

her design was based on my boss at the time (and one of my coworkers), who was super charismatic and has a perfect mix of optimism and exhaustion, and who was also fat, and no less wonderful of a person for it. i think a lot of fandoms have a culture of fatphobia (coughmcytcought) and i want to encourage fat characters and designs in our fandom, because hey! we exist!

klein is also the hottest character in FUA

i keep forgetting her scars hfdjkhfd, but yeah she seems reckless enough to have shit blow up in her face (the singing rock that was basically a sound grenade, anyone?) and shes been part of the foundation for awhile

radd doesnt have a lot of drawings of klein posted, but there is the group drawing from awhile back (click here)

Raddagher is also white. But also. This was not my original design for her.

YEAH THATS RIGHT, ALPHA VERSION RADDAGHER WAS JUST A HELMET BECAUSE I THOUGHT SHE WAS HEAVY DUTY SURVEILLANCE HAHAH,, also i thought a big buff faceless security lady was a cool idea. might repurpose the design for an OC in the future

a lot of raddagher’s design is based on radd’s designs, which actually existed before the show iirc, but i wanted some flavor, so goggles and blue hair, and a big comfy security jacket. i have been drawing them with glasses more often tho

the shark teeth doodle is from a joke about radd being part shark

THATS NOT ALL THOUGH. I HAVE ONE MORE THING. THAT’S RIGHT, THE UNVOICED CHARACTERS.

Dr Shao is so wonderful??? Nonbinary Asian and highest ranking member aside from Klein??? the gays keep winning QwQ

Alves and Simmons each cameo in my textpost memes, see if you can find them lol. Their designs are kinda up in the air tbh but I think Simmons is white.

Dr Gravett is based on based on my black coworker that's basically my work mom. her hair is always immaculate, including the style i drew gravett with, which was dutch pigtails. thinking about it maybe she should have more scars considering her personnel file...

The Short Mean One and The Tall One from botany :3 tbh i dont have a lot to say about their designs i just think they’re two pretty besties

also psst check out radd’s designs for upper management too! (click here)

anyways thanks for asking! hopw you enjoyed! imma go pass out now.

#find us alive #fua #raddagher #character design #scp #long post #eyes #eye contact #i adore shao i hope they get more mentions

[ramp-it-up]

Request:

Y/N is for one year in America and try to learn the language More (she is from Germany ).

Chris saw her at target and realized that she was kind of lost and was loved to help her 👀

Okayyyy Nonnie! How's this for a challenge?

At first I didn't know how I was going to get there from here, but I cruised IG for some German inspiration. As a result, instead of Y/N, reader is named Maëlle. I also struggled with the knowledge that most Germans know more English than Americans know of any other language, but this is all in fun. 😛

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (Maëlle)

Word Count: Around 2K

Warnings: 18+, RPF, MINORS DNI, CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE, not proofread, Google Translate for the German, verry limited American knowledge of Germans and German culture, not full on Smut, but smutty thots, thoughts of oral sex, fingering, degradation kink, allusions to Dom! behavior, disregarding of stranger danger, the Red Sox, and an age gap.

Maëlle

**********************************

One of your goals when you got settled was to go to Target, Ziel when you arrived in Boston for your graduate exchange year at Boston University.

You understood a great deal of English and could speak many phrases, but you’d hoped your year in America would make you fluent.

You were proud that you were able to get from the BU Student Union to the store. You surprised yourself with the ease that you used your phone to help you translate for what you needed.

Now, you were standing in front of the doors, almost in tears, trying to find where your Uber was to pick you up.

You didn’t pay attention to which way you entered and you needed to find VanNess street. It was about to leave. You suddenly felt helpless, hilflos.

—-

Chris needed to pick up some sunscreen before the game, he couldn't afford a burn right before filming. Even though he had his Red Sox cap on, he still needed some high grade sunblock.

He hurried through the doors of the Target near Fenway Park, head down, trying not to get recognized.

He passed by some beautiful long bronze legs and followed them up a smoking hot body clothed in a scarlet Boston University t-shirt tied up tight and short blue jean skirt.

Your face was framed by waist length blonde braids and your eyes were the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

Your lips deserved ten minutes all on their own, but he kept it moving, not wanting to seem creepy.

You were gorgeous, although you looked flustered. Chris didn’t slow his roll, because you were probably waiting on someone.

When he came back through, five minutes later, he heard your voice and slowed down. He was surprised, but shouldn’t have been. There were black people all over the world.

Even in Germany.

“Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die Van Ness Street ist? Can you tell me? Where is Van Ness Street?”

Your accent was heavy, but passersby just assumed you were crazy or joking with them and ignored you.

Chris was ashamed. That wasn’t what he wanted Boston to be. Even though he was close to being late for the first pitch, he stopped for you. He summoned some German from filming in Europe.

“Kann ich Ihnen helfen?” It was one thing he knew how to say with perfect inflection.

You perked up and smiled at him. “Ach bist du Deutscher? You’re German?”

You looked into the face of the handsome stranger. His eyes. Verdammt!

Chris melted a little bit. When you smiled, you were even more beautiful. Chris smiled back at you, smitten. He laughed.

“No. Italian.”

You understood, but you were confused. Why was this handsome American saying he was Italian and speaking to you in German? And why was he so familiar?

“Oh, Ich entschuldige mich. Sorry.” You smiled again, and Chris forgot all about the game. He wanted to try to talk to you for hours.

“No worries, he said. “Bitte?”

This handsome man’s German was indeed poor. He’d fooled you. He was a good actor. Something pinged in the back of your mind, but you overlooked it. Somehow, he’d made you feel better.

“Ich habe meinen Uber vermisst. Uber, gone!” You made a motion with your hand. “Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die VanNess Street ist?”

“Ohhhh! VanNess is this way,” he pointed toward the other side of the store, and he started leading you through.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you followed him.

You neared the electronics department and there was a giant movie display with dvds. The man saw it, pulled up, stopped, grabbed your hand and quickly led you back the other way.

You were confused.

“Come to think of it, I’ll give you a ride, my car is back out this way. Druben?”

Chris was not going to ruin his afternoon and a chance to talk to you by getting caught signing autographs in Target. He loved his fans, but he already liked you.

You followed him back out of the sliding doors to the parking lot and a blank Range Rover. You just went along with him, your hand feeling at home in his.

Then the panic set in.

You didn’t know this man from Adam.

Your mother had warned you about getting kidnapped by an American serial killer. This was it. You hated it when she was right.

“Wait!”

You said it perfectly, and the man caught your anxiety.

Chris stopped as he tried to open the door for you. He looked into your worried eyes. Shit, he’d gotten carried away. He looked down to where your hands were still locked.

He couldn’t help but smile at them. You smiled, too. Then he looked at you, blue eyes looking like the sea. You smiled back, somehow knowing that you were safe. You leaned back on the car.

“I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Christopher, what is yours?”

“Maëlle.”

Your smile was brightening his entire life. He was into you.

“That’s beautiful. Das ist schön?”

You smiled wider at his compliment. Then you bit your lip. Chris' knees got weak and he took a step closer to you to regain balance.

You were in each other’s space, Chris looking down at you and you at him. You were both getting warm even though it was a cool September day.

Chris pulled your hand instinctively, and you were even closer, your fingers entwined in his close to his thigh, which you could sense flexing through his jeans.

You were staring at his lips and he was doing the same as the butterflies flew around your stomach.

Were you really considering kissing someone you’d just met in Target? What would your mother think?

That thought made you smirk.

“What are you thinking?”

He was leaning over you, his voice in a lower register now. His breath tickled your ear and made you moan slightly.

Chris wanted to know what was going on in that mind of yours, if you were as crazy as he was feeling this kind of connection so fast.

You understood exactly what he was saying, but you just cocked your head and smiled as if you didn’t. You didn’t want him to think that you were thinking of his hands all over you, in your most intimate places.

Chris took a deep breath, trying to clear his head and regain blood flow to his brain. His cock was hard being this close to you and he had to regain composure.

He wasn’t that reckless kid he used to be, but man he wanted to do some depraved things to you. Like drag his tongue up your…

He had to stop. Chris took a step back.

You watched as his tongue peeled out to lick his bottom perfect pink lip. It was strange, but you felt like you knew him. And you wanted him to know you. Intimately.

And now those perfect lips were moving, but you weren’t paying close enough attention to translate what he was saying.

“Can I give you a lift to campus?”

You cocked your head in that pretty way again. He wondered what it would be like to feel your lips. On his lips. On his tattoos, around his…

Chris cleared his throat and tried to think of the words.

“Kann ich mitnehmen?”

He was so cute. You smiled brighter and nodded, “Yes, Christopher.”

Then you gestured to your bra-less breasts in your thin t-shirt. Chris could tell your nipples were hard. He licked his lips and looked around. This was a development.

Then he got your message. He shook his head, chuckling that his thoughts were in the gutter.

“Ooooooh! Boston University! You’re on campus. Yeah, that’s right near here. I’ll take you.”

“Danke. Thanks you, Christopher.”

Your smile would be the end of him. He had to think of a creative way to get your number.

“Hey! Let’s take a picture!” He had his phone out.

You were confused, but maybe this is what Americans did to get to know each other. Take pictures with strangers.

He took a couple of pics and then opened the door for you.

You brushed past him to get in, and Chris allowed his eyes to take in your form, especially your shapely legs.

You noticed him checking you out, and immediately got goosebumps, your nipples hardening again. Your panties were a little moist.

“Let’s just get you… “

Chris reached across you for the seatbelt with his right hand, face coming near yours as he leaned into the car.

“Buckled in…”

Now you were sure your panties were soaked.

Chris allowed his mind to go places, like your pussy, which he was sure was sweet, wet, hot and…

“….Tight.”

Chris gulped, trying not to drool all over you, although he would love to spit in your mouth and make you swallow as he fucked you raw.

“Danke.”

You whispered behind a breathy moan. You wanted not only to ride in this man’s car. You wanted to ride this man in his car.

Your eyes flickered down to his jeans and that’s when Chris realized that he had a raging hard on. He quickly put his hand in his pocket, trying to play it off, flashed a smile and closed the door quickly.

You giggled at how huge what you thought you saw was. You fanned yourself while you waited for him to get in trying to remember your decorum.

Chris stood outside the back of the car for a minute, trying to catch his breath and think. He had to be at least 15 year older than you, he just met you, and you didn’t speak English. None of this made sense.

He was going to drop you off at campus and try to be at the game for the second inning. And act his age.

Christopher got back in the car, much more formal, and started driving.

He looked over to see your legs open and started to wonder how easy it would be to reach over and under your skirt, pull your panties to the side, if you were wearing any, and…

Chris cleared his throat and focused on the road.

You could tell the air had changed. He was different. You wondered what happened.

You looked at his profile and decided that he was turned off by you being so forward. You decided to straighten up, so you did so, literally and figuratively.

You sat up straight and crossed your legs, like prim and proper young ladies do.

The curve of your spine and the crossing of your legs made Chris irrationally angry. It was like you were closing yourself off to him. Then he remembered.

You didn’t know each other.

You pointed out where to go as you neared your apartment. Chris pulled up in front of your unit and you both started talking.

“Danke, Christopher.”

“Hey, Maëlle…”

You both chuckled. Chris continued.

“Let me send you that photo. What’s your number?” He was fiddling with his phone. Then handed it to you. “Type it in for me.”

You grinned wide and his sly smile answered you. Now you understood. You entered your number and handed it back to him, your fingers sparking as you touched.

You were breathless.

“Well…”

“Christopher…”

You two interrupted each other again.

This time you continued.

“Thank you.”

You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Chris closed his eyes. Your lips felt as soft as he imagined. He wanted to do the whole turn his head trick but he wasn’t 23 anymore. But you sure made him feel like it.

He did turn to look at you as you got out of the car and waved after you closed it. You swung your bag in one hand as you walked toward the building, also swinging your hips, watching him as he drove away.

Chris watched you too, as far as he could in the rearview. When you disappeared from sight, he said, “Fuck it,” did a uturn and peeled rubber back to your apartments. He rolled down the window.

“Maëlle! Maëlle!” You stopped just before you reached your door. Chris grinned at you. “You ever been to an American baseball game before?”

You skipped back down the walk happily, grinning back as you leaned in the open window. You cocked your head in that way.

“No, but I like playing wit the balls.”

Chris groaned. He couldn’t tell if you were talking about sports or something else. But he’d figure it out later. You climbed in the car, winked at him and crossed your legs.

Chris licked his lips as he drove back toward Fenway Park, thinking about how he would teach you about keeping your legs open that night.

——

Hope it’s okay Nonnie! ❤️

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou @donutloverxo @wallowsgirl14 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld @justanormalfangirlsworld @lost-in-a-state-of-mind @london-grunge @pheebsyells @douxtille @thesecretlifeofdaydreams @ximaginex @jdmacca92 @fofisstilinski @dyapraxicwhore @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @aaronhotchiee @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain @mostannoyingbillioner @anacravalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @chaoticsteverogers @txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @assoftheamericana @ikatieebabyy @nerdymugsharkempath @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjean @maroonsunrise83

#Chris Evans #chris evans x female reader #Chris Evans x German reader #Chris Evans smut #chris evans x black reader #chris evans imagine #ask dj #chria evans x ofc reader

[nashibirne]

London Calling - 1

Yes, I'm still in my August phase and I'm not even sorry...I just can't stop thinking about the sexy mf and so this idea crossed my mind and turned into a storyline. I have to admit I'm even more nervous about posting this than usual because it's a little different from what I've written before and I really hope it's not going to bore the shit out of you. If you like this although the tension between August and my ofc builds slowly, please let me know. I appreciate every single comment, reblog and/or like! Thanks 💜

Pairing: Augut Walker x OFC (Lu Johnson)

Words: ~3.0 k

Summary and A/N: This story plays with the thought of "what if…" What if August Walker had taken another road? What if he had turned into John Lark for completely different reasons? What if he had found love before becoming a bitter, disillusioned man?So the events of "London Calling" take place about ten years prior to MI:Fallout and August Walker hasn't joined the CIA yet, he's an FBI Agent and his new mission in London that lies ahead of him is going to be a challenging one. Maybe it's even going to change his life.

Warnings: 18+! This story deals with the topic of a toxic/abusive relationship, gaslighting and problematic behavior of one of the protagonists in general. Please don't read if these topics trigger you or make you feel uncomfortable. Luckily I've never been in any kind of toxic or abusive relationship, so I lack personal experience but I hope still do this sensitive topic justice.

English is not my mother tongue but the lovely @sillyrabbit81 was so kind to be my very helpful and patient Beta! Thank you so, so much, bunny 🐇💜 You have no idea how much I appreciate your support, your encouragement, your help and the fact that you took the time to proofread this. (Edited by me, so there might still be mistakes and they're all mine)

📖 You can find my other fics on my Masterlist 📖

Credits: I don't own August Walker or anything related to MI:Fallout. Pics for the moodboard from pinterest, face claims: Lu - Hannah van der Westhuysen, Adam - Freddie Thorpe. FaceApp helped me with making August look a little younger

Taglist

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfanfics101 @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq @kingliam2019 @pandaxnienke

So...now...off we go...story under the cut!

1

"London? Are you kidding me, Kyle?"

August Walker stopped pacing the room with an incredulous frown. He raised his eyebrows, his blue eyes fixed on the other man's face.

"Absolutely not," his superior and close friend of many years said slowly, drawling both words more than necessary to stress that he wasn't joking. "They want you in London."

"What about my promotion? You gave me your word. You wanted me to finish Operation Old Bridge and that's what I did. You wanted Tony Salerno's head on a silver platter, that's what you got."

August's voice was surprisingly calm, his expression blank but his gaze was blazing with anger and frustration. His hands were balled into fists and he only opened them to lean on Kyle's wooden desk, which was very tidy, except for the piles of case files that slowly grew larger than him.

"Damn, Kyle, I risked my life when I went undercover and joined this Mafia mob."

"I know, August, but unfortunately my hands are tied. Interpol wants our best undercover Agent and that's you. Just this last job and afterwards you can happily join the CIA." SSA Kyle Langdon leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his neck with a sigh and an apologetic shrug.

"That's exactly what you said last time. Do you expect me to believe you?"

"As I said, it's not my doing. Manchester contacted Bill because the NCB needs help, blue notice, August. You know that we cannot say no and that means...London calling, man," Kyle pointed out with a smile. "You should be grateful, it's a great opportunity. So just do your job there, return and get your promotion."

"Why don't you just send someone else and I get my promotion right now? We have many great undercover agents. Craig for example. He's crazy about British pussies. He'll love London." August straightened his tall body before crossing his arms in front of his broad chest that was forced into a white button down shirt and a black suit jacket.

"No, Craig cannot go because they want you in this operation. They asked explicitly for Agent August Walker. That's a huge appreciation of your work and a big compliment. You're only 27, August, not many FBI agents are this well known and respected at such a young age." Kyle sat up straight, mirroring August's body language.

"I don't give a shit about their respect and appreciation. I know my worth and I know I'm your best agent. I've worked very hard to get where I stand now... just one step away from becoming a CIA agent," August said angrily, his brows furrowed, his eyes dark. "Fuck, Kyle...why use an American agent in a purely British matter in the first place? They could easily…"

"Listen, August," Kyle cut in and he got up and walked around his desk to face his friend, "the thing is, I am not asking you to do this, okay? It's not a request, it's an order. There's no room to negotiate."

He gave him a friendly smile to temper his words before placing a hand on August's shoulder. "No hard feelings. It's…"

"It's the job. Yeah. I know." August took a step back and nodded his head slowly, curling his lip. He had heard his boss say these words so many times and he hated that line although he was perfectly aware that it was the truth. That was the way it worked. They got orders, they did the job, no matter what. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling a bad headache brewing behind his forehead.

"I have already talked to Sloane about this. Erica seconds the motion by Interpol because she wants you to prove yourself in another operation abroad. If you are successful you will be part of her team. It's simple, Walker. Just don't fuck this up."

"I've never fucked anything up,” August snarled, clenching his teeth, his jaw grinding.

"See, that's exactly why they want you,” Kyle answered with a triumphant smile.

****

"Lu!" Adam Mayfield knocked impatiently on the bathroom door. "Get ready. We're going to be late." He glanced at his Rolex with an annoyed sigh before he straightened his tuxedo jacket and adjusted his bow tie for the umpteenth time. "God damn, this meeting is important." He banged his fist against the door again and rolled his eyes when he heard her muffled voice behind the bathroom walls. "Just a minute, Adam."

Although he was really a little angry that it took her so long to get ready, they weren't actually late, in fact there was more than enough time to meet up with his clients at The London Opera. He had just said that to make her hurry up. Lu had the tendency to dawdle around, she got easily distracted and it was his responsibility to help her with that bad habit and usually it worked well.

Compared to the woman she was when they had met at a party more than five years ago, she had improved her behavior a lot, thanks to his efforts and his strict education. She had been common as muck when they started dating, an ordinary working class girl, smart but not a bit sophisticated, pretty but with no sense of fashion or taste, ambitious but without any connections. He had changed that, he had moulded her into the beautiful, stylish, refined and cultured woman she was now. She was his work, his success, his pride...she was his.

When the door of the bathroom that was adjacent to the master bedroom finally swung open, the welcoming sight of his fiancee interrupted his thoughts and picked up his spirits immediately.

"Wow, this was worth the wait." He eyed her up and down with a smirk and leaned in for a kiss but she stopped him with her hands pressed against his narrow chest.

"No, you're gonna ruin my make-up, darling." Lu smiled at him and spinned around to present him her dress. The black, belted Burberry gown was elegant and classy. High-necked on the front but with a low back that showed off lots of her perfect, lightly tanned skin. Chaste and sexy at the same time, just the way Adam liked it.

"That dress is stunning, baby. You look wonderful." He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close to leave a sensual kiss on her slim neck while his hands wandered to her ass where they rested for a moment before they squeezed her firm cheeks. "I really hope you're not wearing any panties."

Lu freed herself from his embrace with a frown and stepped in front of the large wall mirror opposite of their king-size bed to check her reflection one last time, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Of course I'm wearing panties. We're going to the opera with your VIP clients." She walked to her dressing table and took the diamond-encrusted, leaf-shaped brooch Adam had given her for their five years anniversary on New Year's Eve. "Would you help me with this?"

Adam took the piece of jewelry from her slim hand and pinned it carefully on her dress, right above her heart. He kissed her tenderly but his expression was stern when he spoke. "Strip it off."

Lu's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"You heard me. Get rid of your thong. I know you're wearing one of these slutty, tiny g-strings to make sure your look is flawless and your underwear doesn't show under your dress." His face hardened slightly, yet his voice remained soft and smooth.

"But…"

"Don't test me, Lu,” he said slowly, still smiling but screwing up his beautiful grey eyes. "I want you naked underneath that dress in case I want to have a little fun with you tonight. I mean, we both know Rigoletto is gonna be boring as fuck, we may need a little distraction." He gave her a lewd smirk and with a tiny frown and a raise of his brows he motioned her to be obedient. "You don't want anything to get in my way, do you? Not even a little piece of lace, right?"

"Of course not, Adam," she answered softly with a smile she had to force onto her lips. Lu reached under her dress with shaking hands and pulled down her panties till they hit the floor so she could step out of them carefully, making sure they wouldn't get tangled up in her stiletto heels.

"Good girl," Adam said with a wolfish grin and with a sly smile he added, "you know what, baby? I think I'm going to have a little fun with you just now. My clients can wait."

Lu didn't even try to argue with him, knowing exactly that she was in a no-win situation. She closed her eyes and turned around, lifting up her dress, when she heard him unzip his fly.

****

While Adam Mayfield was fucking his fiancee in front of a mirror in one of the most exclusive penthouses in London, August Walker was having a bad coffee, sitting at a table in the plain and pretty ugly meeting room of their FBI department at the J. Edgar Hoover Building in Washington DC, listening to the explanations of Kyle and the lead of 'Operation Brutus', Christine Carpenter. He didn't like her much but he respected her competence and her leadership qualities and most of all he trusted her with giving him the perfect fake identity for the job in London.

"So, what do you have for me, Chris?" August looked at her with a smile, but his eyes gave away that he'd rather be somewhere else.

"Well, let me just explain the background first, okay?"

She pressed a button on her laptop and the handsome face of a young man appeared on the screen behind her.

"This", she nodded at the picture, "is Adam Arthur Clive Mayfield, 27 years old, only son of Alfred Mayfair and his late wife Erica, heir of the immense family fortune and the private bank Mayfield & Holmes, that was established by his ancestors more than 200 years ago. He is one of the most eligible bachelors in the United Kingdom, and one of the richest, too. His father officially still runs the family business but he isn't in the best state of health, so in fact Mayfield junior is the one who's at the helm. Unlike his father he's not a man of integrity, he's been on the radar of the British authorities for years. From dealing drugs and other minor crimes in his college years to insider trading, investor fraud, misappropriation and money laundering nowadays. He is a big fish, has connections all over the world, drug rings, gun runners, human traffickers, you name it."

"And the Brits are not able to catch him without my help?" August couldn't help but smirk cockily.

"Don't be so full of yourself, Walker. The problem is, he is a damn genius. IQ score beyond 150, very clever, very cautious, a strategic mastermind, always ahead of the authorities. They tried to infiltrate his business a few times but they failed miserably, so now they want to concentrate on his private life."

"And this is gonna be my part?"

"Exactly," Kyle said, getting up to join Christine in front of the screen. "He has a few bodyguards he always hires from an American agency. They are known for their discretion and loyalty and the bodyguards they place with their clients are the best of the best. Unfortunately one of his bodyguards died in an accident a week ago and now he needs a new one. Luckily, we have the owner of the agency by the balls for several major crimes. He cooperates or he will end up behind bars for the rest of his life."

"To cut a long story short, he will place you with Mayfield and you can become part of his daily life. Your job consists of monitoring and collecting information and data. I will give you an exact briefing later," Christine finished Kyle's explanations.

"So I will just be his lapdog?"

"Not his," Kyle grinned, "hers."

The picture on the screen changed, now showing a young, blonde woman. The second he saw her, he judged her.

He could tell what she was like, just by her looks, by the way she jutted her chin in the picture, by her perfectly manicured fingers, by her flawless make up and the expensive clothes. He knew women like her, a walking stereotype, the blond, beautiful Trophy Wife Barbie that's always by Millionaire Ken's side. Pretty on the outside, boring on the inside. Lame bimbos that only lived for showing off their designer clothes and it-bags, tripping around in high heels that cost more than he earned in a month, finding self-fulfilment in stupid things like designing overpriced furniture, running a yoga studio or doing charity stuff. Useless, needless but still blueprints for millions of girls who would literally give the shirt off their backs to catch themselves a rockstar, a famous actor, a hyped football player or just a rich heir.

"This is Mayfield's fiancee," Kyle said, pointing at the photo, "you're gonna be her personal bodyguard."

"How am I supposed to monitor him, when I have to be on her heels all the time?"

"You're gonna live with them, there will be lots of opportunities. Just make her trust you, we need her to open up, get her to talk. They've been together for years, she should know what he's involved in," Chris explained and she made it sound easy when in fact it wasn't only hard to gain a stranger's trust, in this case it was even dangerous.

"Alright. Tell me about her."

"Her name is Lucretia Johnson, 24 years old," Kyle started reading the memo.

"Lucretia?" August let out an amused snort.

"Yeah," Kyle grinned, "her mother seems to have a preference for strange names, her younger sister's called Petronilla."

"What the fuck?" August laughed out loud. "Is she some kind of Latin professor or something?"

"Well, first of all she's dead," Christine took over with a serious look on her face, she was notorious for her lack of humour, "and secondly, no, she was not a professor. She was an alcoholic and a complete mess. An irresponsible, uncaring mother who spent too much time fucking around and too little time taking care of her daughters. Petronilla was taken away from her when she was 15 and was handed over to youth welfare. Lucretia was 18 at the time and lived on the campus of the Chelsea College of Art and Design."

"So she's an artist, huh?" August knew the ridicule in his voice wasn't very professional but he just couldn't help it.

"Maybe, at least she has a master degree in curating and owns a little gallery in Covent Garden. Well, actually Mayfield owns it, she just runs it."

"So, to sum it up, she's made it from the daughter of a drunkard to the fiancee of one of the richest heirs in the kingdom. She's fucked her way to the top. I guess that's all I need to know about her."

"Don't be so sure, August. She seems to be smart," Kyle threw in, "I think there's more to her than the pretty face. It's just a gut feeling but I guess you'll find out soon enough."

August took a deep breath, rolling his eyes at Kyle. "Sure. She's the saint that sleeps with the devil."

"That's not what I said, mate. But whatever she is, you'll have to deal with it."

"What's my cover, Christine?" August wanted to know.

"Well, your alias was born in 1981, just like you, but on the fifth of May. Born and raised in Portland, Maine. Only child, mother deceased, not on speaking terms with his father, a mechanic who still lives in Portland. You can find the details of your early life and your family tree in the memo," she waved the file above her head before she continued. "Careerwise...ex military, ex cop, had some problems following the rules and respecting the law. Single, no ex-wifes, no kids. We kept it plain and simple. They will not dig deep anyway. According to the agency boss, Mayfield expects his bodyguards to be disciplined, always on duty, quiet and discreet. There's three of you. Benjamin Garner is Mayfield's watchdog and his personal assistant, Edward Landow was Johnson's guard you're gonna replace, Andrew Brown is the back-up. You and Garner live with them, Brown lives nearby with his girlfriend. There's other staff of course, a housekeeper, a cook, cleaners. No chauffeur, no butler, no assistant, that's all part of your job."

"Great," August let out an annoyed snort, "so basically I'm gonna be her servant."

"Basically," Chris fixed her gaze on August, "you're not gonna leave her side unless you're told to. Just be professional, stay in the background, prick up your ears, listen closely and be careful. No obvious nosing around. Their penthouse is a high tech fortress, including video monitoring, so just…"

"I know how to work undercover," August cut in impatiently, "just gimme that fucking file and let me do my job."

Christine gave him a pissed look but she handed him the document with a shrug and without further comment. August grabbed it from her hands, staring at the data of his new life, his new name and the composite sketch of his new look. He would have to stop shaving.

*****

tbc

#henry cavill #cavillry #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker #august walker fanfiction #august walker x ofc #slow burn

[thevalleyisjolly]

Ok, I’ve rewritten this post several times because I really want this to be a productive and respectful discussion, but this is a conversation that does need to be started.  I’ve been thinking about the whole cultural appropriation story line in this season of The Unsleeping City so far, and of course I think it’s great that Cody is starting to realize why that’s wrong and that Murph is making it explicitly clear that it is wrong, but I want to reorient the conversation away from Cody now and talk about Ricky as a Japanese-American character.

Because when Zac went “Just to paint a picture for you...” during the museum fight episode, there was quite a bit of surprise from non-Asian people in the fandom that this was really a serious issue, and one that Ricky would be bothered by or speak up about.  But why wouldn’t he?  I mean, the character is Japanese-American, and so is the player.  Doesn’t it make perfect sense that he would at least be a little bothered by a white person appropriating Japanese culture?  Asian fans certainly noticed and pointed it out before that episode aired.  Ricky/Zac certainly noticed - go back through the episodes and observe how every time Cody pulled out a kunai or threw a shuriken, Ricky was cringing or facepalming with an uncomfortable laugh.  Even with seven different camera perspectives to watch at the same time, it should have been pretty clear in the fandom that this was an ongoing issue that would bother and was bothering Ricky.

And I think there are several different facets to this, but the one I want to address is how there’s a tendency in fandom to ignore or erase Ricky’s Japanese heritage.  Not literally (although there is a particular sting every time I see another Ricky fancast where the actor is of another Asian heritage than Japanese - Asian people are not interchangeable).  But especially prior to Season 2, there was a general trend in the fandom that liked to simplify Ricky’s character and overlook him as a complex player character because of traits that are very common in East Asian immigrant cultures.

Perhaps it’s because my heritage is East Asian and I’ve had more exposure to general cultural customs and behaviours among East Asian immigrants, but Zac’s portrayal of Ricky has always read as a very obvious Asian-American child of immigrants to me (and, y’know, Zac and Ricky are actually Asian-American children of immigrants).  Not expressing negative emotions out loud, not verbally articulating thoughts and feelings but expressing them through actions, deferring to other peoples’ needs first instead of expressing his own wants because it’s not about him.  With the caveat that I’m Chinese and not Japanese, these are common practices that I’ve observed in my own family, among friends and acquaintances (of various Asian heritages including but not limited to Chinese), in broader experiences with other East Asian immigrants.

(Asia is not a monolith and I’m not familiar with the immigrant cultures and experiences of people from other Asian heritages.  I specify East Asian here because that is broadly what I can speak on and because Ricky is Japanese, but other Asian people please feel free to discuss your experiences as well)

And obviously, these are not monolith traits observed at all times, I’ve definitely met plenty of East Asian immigrants who did express their emotions loudly, who used their words, who were assertive about their own needs and wants (this is not the post to be getting into different generations of immigration and the culture differences between those generations).  And it also depends on the context - from my own experience, in private within families, both emotions and words can get extremely loud (if you dare to risk the wrath of your elders by arguing with them!)  But my point is that the habits I pointed out above are still relatively common in East Asian immigrant cultures, even if not all individuals follow them at all times.

Particularly prior to Season 2, there was a common perspective in the fandom, usually couched in “uwu, I love that Zac is playing a hot dummy!!” that would go along the lines of “Ricky doesn’t have a character arc, he doesn’t get into conflicts with other people, he doesn’t say anything and is just happy to be there, he’s a shallow character who’s just a himbo.”  All of which I’d dispute, (*insert post here about Ricky as a character reclaiming Asian masculinity*), but I want to focus on how the main traits -refraining from overt emotions, remaining reserved in speech, not bringing up his own needs and wants- that were brought up and used to simplify and dismiss Ricky’s character were traits which are commonly found in East Asian immigrant communities.  The whole “remaining reserved/trying to avoid conflict” is something a lot of East Asian-American kids pick up at home because what you say or don’t say isn’t as important as what you do or don’t do.

And I mean, so much of Ricky is about doing things for people, showing his feelings through his actions, not his words.  Just because he wasn’t getting into PC conflict in Season 1, or expressing his emotions in the same ways as other PCs, doesn’t mean he was just a silent, cheerful himbo.  Which there’s nothing wrong with being a himbo, and it can be particularly empowering in Ricky’s case as an Asian man (see above linked post about Asian masculinity), but that’s not all there is to Ricky’s character!  And don’t get me wrong, I personally love that part of his ongoing character arc in Season 2 is speaking up about his feelings and expressing to other people what he wants (because there’s the “American” part of the Asian-American experience that’s not just about having Asian heritage but is also about negotiating that relationship in a place with different norms and customs).  But it doesn’t negate the “Asian” part of “Asian-American” either, which does impact and shape the way Ricky interacts with people and the world.

In hindsight, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that interest and meta in Ricky skyrocketed once he did start being more vocal and assertive in Season 2, which are common traits in many Western cultures.  And it’s not the only reason that there’s a deeper interest in Ricky now (shout out to all the Asian fans and allies who’ve been really diving into Ricky’s character this season!) and I choose to believe in good faith that it isn’t intentional or malicious (audiences do tend to gravitate more towards tangible moments of conversation and conflict rather than background acting).  But I think we as fans need to start questioning why as a whole, we really didn’t start giving deeper thought to Ricky until he began displaying more typically Western traits, because I think it’s emblematic of how, very subtly and unconsciously, we are used to privileging white “American” behaviour and ignoring or glossing over Asian (immigrant) traits.

In many ways, Ricky prior to Season 2 (and very arguably up until the museum fight), has been perceived in the general fandom as a sort of post-racial American-melting-pot character.  Fans don’t wholly ignore that he’s Japanese-American, you can’t really do that when his family name is “Matsui” and when the Season 1 finale showed that his interactions with the American Dream pretty strongly involved his parents’ immigrant experience.  But knowing intellectually that Ricky is Asian doesn’t always translate to actually perceiving him as an Asian person with all the implications and racial dynamics that entails.

An example of how this manifests: Ricky and Esther become a canon couple.  Numerous posts begin to appear (and periodically still do) that express opinions along the lines of Ricky/Esther being the only tolerable “het” couple.  Ignoring the fact that we don’t know Esther’s sexuality and we only have an offhand Ztream comment for Ricky, Ricky/Esther is a canonical interracial relationship between two non-white people, a Japanese man and a black woman.  Interracial relationships are already extremely poorly represented in media, to say nothing of interracial relationships between non-white people.   Yet we overlook the racial dynamics and only focus on the perceived queerness (or not) of the ship.

Or, for another example, taking the discussion on cultural appropriation and making it all about Cody’s flaws and character development, rather than considering how it affects Ricky as a Japanese man to see a white man disrespecting a part of his cultural heritage.

Anyways, I really urge D20 fans, especially if you’re not Asian, to start questioning and challenging how you really perceive characters, what kind of characteristics you tend to privilege and be drawn to and why, and what kind of fandom environment you shape in your interactions with the show and with other fans.  This is not to say that Ricky should be everyone’s favourite character or that you can’t dislike him, but it is important to think about why we have the preferences that we do.  I especially urge you to remember that Ricky Matsui is a Japanese-American character, that this was a deliberate choice which has been repeatedly brought up by Zac (who is a Japanese-American actor), and that you cannot and should not ignore Ricky’s heritage when you think and talk about him. 

(And if you think Ricky is being an “asshole” to Cody just for being, frankly, mildly perturbed in his direction because Cody spent most of the season so far being very offensive to Ricky’s cultural heritage, I really encourage you to think critically about your opinions and why you hold them.  And if, after thinking critically, you still don’t see why they’re wrong, please don’t let the door hit you on the way out.  Your conscious racism is not something that is welcome in this fandom, and Asian fans are not here to teach you better)

((White and non-Asian people can and should reblog this, but don’t clown around.  Productive, respectful discussion is welcome.  Asian fans are more than welcome to add their perspectives/agree/disagree, especially people with Japanese heritage))

#dimension 20 #the unsleeping city #d20 spoilers #tuc ii spoilers #ricky matsui #diversity in fan spaces #asian rep #white people can and should reblog this but don't clown around #non-asian people can and should reblog this but also don't clown around #productive discussion is absolutely welcome but please be respectful #asian fans are more than welcome to add their perspectives/agree/disagree; especially fans with japanese heritage #i really love tuc but being an asian fan in the fandom is just like *avoids twitter* *avoids discord* *curated list of blogs to follow*