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josukesknee · 4 years

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vanilla ice’s lifetraps... an analysis?

i spent roughly 1-2 weeks compiling this so yes i am posting it everywhere bc i put way too much effort into it.

hallo hallo.

i'm researching lifetraps for a quiz i'm making (and also i just think they're interesting) so... why not force it upon the jojo fandom using an ungodly amount of words?

or, yknow, let's talk about vanilla ice part two: electric boogaloo.

a lifetrap (or schema) is defined as a negative pattern that presents itself throughout our lives. it develops in childhood/adolescence based on our life experiences. one person can have multiple lifetraps. some psychologists say there are 11, some say there are 18. enmeshment, our primary focus, is typically included by those who say 18.

i plan to do this for a few characters. no specific group, just whichever ones i feel like pouring a couple hours into. for this blog, that's vanilla ice. again.

a warning: this blog deals with things you may find upsetting, particularly death, references to domestic violence, and implications of/references to child abuse. stay safe, stay informed, and reach out when you can.

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disclaimer / spoiler warnings

major spoilers for the entirety of SDC.

i don't condone his actions yada yada yada you have a brain. use it before you lose it.

i am not a psychologist. don't use my definitions on yourself. if you think you identify a little too strongly with one of the lifetraps i describe, you are welcome to do your own research and/or consider therapy.

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1 | basics of enmeshment

i'd suggest reading this blog if you want a better idea of what i, personally, think vanilla ice's psychology looks like.

so, first: what is the enmeshment lifetrap?

takanen describes it as feeling that you are so connected with your parents or partner, that you have no idea who you are anymore. goodtherapy calls it a blurring of boundaries. it isn't to be confused with dependence, despite their similarities.

some of the things that someone with this lifetrap will experience are:

difficulty disagreeing with parents'/partners' opinions

feeling as if they have no life, but their parent(s)/partner(s) live vicariously through them

difficulty identifying which needs, wants, and feelings are their own

guilt when they do not tell their parent(s)/partner(s) something

lack of independence from parent(s)/partner(s)

lack of distress tolerance

no sense of self

do i need to explain further? ok, i will. don't act so excited about it.

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2 | past & present: enmeshment

it's clear and emphasized in canon that vanilla ice puts dio on par with what you may consider your respective god(s); again, the blog linked in the beginning of this section will go in-depth on why i believe this, but dio is very likely similar to a part of his own identity. their identities are enmeshed in vanilla ice's mind.

vanilla ice's entire 'thing' is his devotion for dio, but... is it entirely devotion, or is it partially enmeshment? do we see anything of vanilla ice that isn't linked to dio? no, we don't; even his fury is because dio has been insulted. was it vanilla ice's desire to eliminate, or was it dio's? i think we all know who planted that seed.

and in comparison, the others in dio's crew had far bigger chances of having personal motivations that weren't solely about dio, or it's explicitly stated that they do (ex: hol horse is in it for cash); vanilla ice did not. his motivations were only about dio and where araki could've given us something to supplement that, could've given us a snippet of backstory, he didn't. maybe it wasn't intentional, but it happened, and i think it was.

we also have to ask what kind of person gets so attached? what kind of guy is vanilla ice, i mean, he's kind of intense all around, but who hurt him? enmeshment offers a pretty solid answer for that: probably his parents!

side ramble incoming.

a lot of your behavior develops based on your relationship to your parents/caretakers when you're young — anger, to name one — as do attachment styles.

vanilla ice's obsessive, co-dependent behavior likely began in his early life. following the theory i began before about him potentially being abused, forcing one into co-dependency gets just about every abuser off. it's how they trap their victims, including children who already depend on them for everything.

in an enmeshed parent-child relationship, there's a distinct lack of boundaries and privacy. children are brought up to feel guilty for attending to their own needs before others'. i would personally call it a breeding ground for child abuse.

unchallenged, this type of relationship will become what vanilla ice considers normal and healthy, and he may very well repeat and seek out this dynamic in every relationship thereon, which we can assume he does. one possibility after a childhood like i described is the person purposefully seeking out partners who require their care and protection. this could serve as a solid reason for vanilla ice following dio.

people also tend to have troubles regulating their emotions, which... well, y'all know what happened.

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3 | basics of subjugation

enmeshment isn't 100% accurate, nor is it likely the only lifetrap our subject finds himself in. so what other schemas is he likely trapped in?

subjugation is the feeling that you must please loved ones, colleagues, friends, and even strangers.

people who experience this lifetrap often allow others to control them so that they can avoid consequences such as anger and abandonment. they have an excessive build-up of anger that can leak out in the form of passive-aggressiveness or surprisingly aggressive temper tantrums, of the which vanilla ice exhibits the latter. they tend to attract dominant, bossy people who will dictate how they feel, behave, and think, a profile that pretty accurately describes dio.

it's essentially people pleasing, but one seeks less approval, more basic human interaction.

why does this lifetrap develop?

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4 | past & present: subjugation

people develop the subjugation lifetrap early on, typically due to their parents. the typical behavior of the parents of a subjugated individual lines up nicely (unfortunately?) with those of enmeshment.

we'll focus on the traits that line up most with vanilla ice. going with the assumption that he has anger issues, it's very likely that his parent(s) lashed out on him when he did not follow orders. that could contribute to both of the lifetraps i've mentioned here. control and guilt-tripping are also vital parts of abuse: they contribute to subjugation as well. one parent may have been the abuser and one the abused, as the abused would likely serve as an example of subjugation for vanilla ice to follow.

another thing to consider is that subjugation can form out of having to be the caretaker to family members since the parents were not around enough to do so (think dean winchester, if you will). food for thought, considering his role as a protector is presumably all he lives for.

which brings me to my next point. there are two types of subjugation: self-sacrificing or voluntary, and submissive or involuntary. this is where it gets complicated for vanilla ice.

an abuse victim would likely fall under submission out of fear, and it's pretty obvious the guy went through some variation of it. but with his relationship to dio and canon context, voluntary submission seems more likely.

i'd have to know the specifics of how they met and how he came to follow dio to be able to give you guys a solid guess as to which it is, but voluntary has more canon evidence behind it. their relationship could be viewed as either/or. at the end of the day, it's all up to your personal interpretation, especially of dio.

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5 | cream's significance

how about something a little lighter and more palatable? let's talk about vanilla ice's stand, cream.

cream is basically a walking/floating void, waiting to destroy and swallow everything up. god, that is a sentence i never thought i'd type. anyways. let's pretend araki intended for some rando to make this psychological reach.

the void is the unknown. even vanilla ice himself says that he doesn't know where things go once they're inside his stand. vanilla ice being so unfamiliar with his own stand's ability makes the perfect reference to enmeshment, in the same way that cream's blind destruction references its user's blind anger.

in enmeshment, vanilla ice's own identity would be beyond him, just as what really lays beyond his stand's maw. his identity is a void filled with dio this and dio that; he knows nothing about himself and likely never has.

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6 | other lifetraps

here are some others that i don't feel like expanding on or for which vanilla ice does not fit the criteria to a T.

insufficient self-control: pretty self-explanatory, very aligned with the aggressive behaviors of a subjugated individual. lack of boundaries, increased risk of addiction. tends to be attracted to demanding, disciplined, systematic partners. difficulty regulating emotions/thoughts.

punitiveness: tendency to be very harsh on yourself and punish yourself when you act incorrectly. one could interpret him blaming his anger on others as punitiveness, as others are targeted as well by a punitive's critical nature. not really seen in canon, but it's a very common trope in fanfiction (trust me... i've been in all the crevices of vanilla ice fanfic lol). this trap seems as if it would go hand in hand with pessimism, but don't quote me on that (or any of this blog, really).

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conclusion

your takeaway? well... i just really like getting in this dude's noggin. i think i'm trying to compensate for something! but i'm not here to psychoanalyze myself. also sorry i 100% repeated/used random dividers, there are like 5 different screenshots of vanilla ice on the internet and they are all low quality lol

thanks for reading. let me know other psych related things you'd be interesting in seeing from me. i enjoy writing these psych heavy blogs a lot (more than art or anything else, tbh).

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sources

• prior psych knowledge • lifetrap test* • lifetraps and basic psychological needs** • enmeshment • 18 early schemas defined • subjugation lifetrap • jojo's bizarre wiki

* = this site was translated to english and wording may be incorrect, as some of the grammar is certainly questionable, but it's comparable to other sources.

** = this is a PDF. your browser may automatically download this file if you open it on a phone. some phones cannot open PDF files.

#jjba #vanilla ice jojo #analysis #stardust crusaders #jojos bizarre adventure #anime

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crystalinn · 4 years

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I haven’t posted about this here yet, but boy howdy has my life been A Mess™️ of late.

TW: medical talk, high stress situations, mentions of blood under the cut

This is a very long post, so a mild TL;DR: ma’s sick and this is me for eternity now (loud noises in video):

youtube

Picture it. November 10th (ish. Time is hard.). The motherbeast came down with a case of viral bronchitis. She got a few days off work to recover.

A couple days pass. She went back to work. Her manager sent her in the cooler for two hours.

An immediate downturn ft. a fall out of bed that took 45 minutes to fix, heavy panting, confusion, the whole lot. She went to the Express ER. They said “oh hey, your viral bronchitis has become full blown pneumonia. You’re goin’ to the Real Hospital™️ for two days. See if you respond well.” Turns out, she did, at first.

About a week or two of what seemed like solid improvement all came crashing back down when her return to work arrived. She went back to work... or tried to. She went to step onto the curb and gravity said no. She faceplanted the pavement, and the ambulance was called. A thorough concussion check later, and her manager drove her and her truck home. The next day, she went back to the Express ER, and they said “oh shit, your lung xray is worse than last time. Back to the Hospital for you.”

That stay was nine days long. She was tested for tuberculosis (which came back negative, thankfully), and had a PICC line installed. During said stay, she did get rather confused and agitated, as it was near the end of the month and the rent needed paid. She called me in the middle of the night, asking me to move her IV... despite me being at home. So that was a thing.

After she came home on the 4th of this month (December), I had to start administering her PICC line antibiotics, every 8 hours. Did y’all know that cefepime (a bigboi antibiotic) smells like someone doing unholy things to eggs? Sulfuric smelling bullshit, that. Had some hiccups there, what with massive air bubbles in the line and getting the infusion orb stuck on the line. We were supposed to be done the 25th. Then she went to her new primary care doctor, and it was extended to the 6th of January, which h.

Anyway, fast forward to the 23rd. Mum was out with a pal, getting some groceries, and some Miralax ‘cause... y’know, and she fell on her ass. At this point, falling down is like a glowing neon red flag. She came home, was a bit wobbly, but was generally okay. Her primary care doctor called after the home health nurses stole some blood to tell her that her potassium levels are critical. A friend/my ‘adopted’ brotherbeast, Frank, brought her a fuckton of bananas that night.

Now this is where it gets real fuckin’ spicy. The morning of the 24th, after we get done with the 7am orb, I gave her a dose of Miralax. She was fine, until the 3pm orb, when severe gut cramps showed up. Those lasted until about midnight when things... moved along. After that, shit went downhill fast. I put her to bed after orb times at 11 pm, and she kept waking up. As time went on, she got more and more confused. Like, she knew general things, in a kinda slow way, but she could not follow directions. On the morning of the 25th (fucking Christmas.), things had reached its boiling point. She was very confused, unable to focus, slurring words. I rang up a friend, Sandy (who has been a massive help this whole time of Fuckery), to get her to the ER. This triggered a complete meltdown. It took both of us to get her out of her chair, not to mention the sudden burst of confused crying and begging not to go.

We finally managed to get her there, and the ER’s like “yo this looks like a stroke, so we’re gonna keep her, do an MRI or three, and get back to you.” Turns out she was very dehydrated, currently has a UTI, and is still a bit... shall we say, fucked up. But, the MRI came out clean, but there was some issue with the PICC with like, a blood clot, but they cleaned it out, so they let her go on the 26th.

But just wait for it... I put her to bed pretty much as soon as she got home, ‘cause she doesn’t sleep in the hospital. Makes sense, right? I went to check on her at about 8, and she was unable to really comply with requests/commands/questions. I’d ask “what’s your name?”, I’d get her name (most of the time), but when I’d ask “when’s your birthday?”, I’d get her name again. Or the fact she lost her PICC line cap, and I’d ask her to hold the newly sterilized port so it wouldn’t touch anything, she’d say okay, take it, and immediately drop it. Repeatedly.

I broke down whilst on the phone with my dad because everything has been too much of late, and eventually put her back to bed to wait for the 11pm orb.

11pm rolled around... and well. I couldn’t get her to wake up. She’d react to me poking and prodding her by making noise and moving away, but she would not wake up. Not properly. So, I called the on call home health nurse to see if she could help, and she pretty much told me to just call an ambulance. Not wanting the expense because I live in Hell the US, I called my dad. He helped me try to wake her up over the phone, but she flat refused. I was left with no choice. So, I called the ambulance, and just before they knocked on the door, she sat up like “huh?” but extra confused. She almost didn’t go to the hospital because she said “nah, I don’t want to go” but one of the EMTs was like “nah, you gotta go.”

So, she spent about 8 hours in the ER, and they told me that they can’t keep her since she was mostly lucid, but they did float an Idea (a skilled nursing facility, at least until she got her ducks in a row) to her that was immediately denied, but with some prodding from me, she finally agreed. So they moved her upstairs from the ER to keep her until they can find a facility in the Blue Cross/Blue Shield network that’s reasonably local. The one that came to visit yesterday turned out to not be, and I’m pretty sure the dude kicked it back to the Case Supervisor to see if they can find another. But, after they moved her into her room, she’s cleared up quite a bit.

She’s still a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, a bit unfocused, and can get caught out in the grapes mentally, but she has improved a lot.

Oh, and another thing she’s been doing is fighting me re: eating since the first go around. Bread’s a texture issue, rice is hard to eat without teeth, and everything else “smells bad” (which, since she’s quit smoking as of that second hospital stay... I understand, but you gotta sometimes push past that.) I did manage bananas though. Thank fuck for those.

But, back to the plot: today (the 28th) was a decent day. Much clearer, less starts and stops in her speech. A bit more focused. She didn’t manage to sleep last night, so she was kinda tired. Had another MRI, but we won’t know about that until probably tomorrow (the 29th). Maybe. Had some PICC issues, though. The nurse got the cefepime running just fine, then mum had to use the bathroom, and when she came out, the machine started screaming bloody murder. After that, the nurse came back and tried to flush the line, since the cefepime was unable to run, and when she took the syringe off, the saline shot right back out... which ain’t supposed to happen. Hit me, the nurse, mum, the bed... probably got the windows too. So they’re working on that, and hopefully they figure it out.

Had my own woes at the hospital today, too. The sole of my boot fell off, so my ride/friend/adopted sister?, Sandy, went to walmart and got me some Heavy Duty Superglue, which I got it about half way stuck before we had to leave... then when we were pulling into the parking lot at home, the nurse in charge called to ask some questions about the PICC, the antibiotic, how long it’d been there, how long she was supposed to be on it, the pharmacy’s number, all that. So I went to get out of the car, my coke bottle fell out of my pocket, started rolling under the car, and I overextended. Fell right on my knees. They are not happy. Took a hot minute to get my dumb ass off the ground, without hurting Sandy, who is like 5′2″ and v smol. I am 5′6″ and... decidedly not. Plus the bonus rain.

UPDATE 12/29/2019: the diverticulitis has made a reappearance. It’s like everything is just It’s free real estate.

UPDATE 12/31/2019: Around 2 am this morning, she managed to roll out of bed and whack her head pretty good on something. They did a CT scan, and it came out clean. No concussion. However, now she has a sitter/keeper/minder to make sure she doesn’t do it again. It’s a good thing the nurses heard her fall, ‘cause despite being armed, the bed alarm didn’t go off. I know of all of this, ‘cause the hospital called me at 3 this morning, and boy howdy that’s a gut drop, let me tell you. But, better a CT ride and a bump on her noggin vs. the alternative. Sure is one thing after a-fucking-nother, ain’t it though.

UPDATE 1/1/2020: 2019 keep your problems challenge: she's had a major mental shift again, and now she's really groggy, really confused... So the hospital moved her to the ICU and called me for consent on a spinal tap, just to make sure they're not missing anything. Other than that, they've done x-rays and another CT, I think to check her spine, hips, the one leg she's been having issues with. The doctors also think that it may be the cefepime causing this altered mental state, and after doing some digging, boy howdy I sure believe it. Cephalosporins are some nasty fuckers.

So! That’s been my month and a half! I’d like to take a break now, please!

EDIT: Further updates found here.

#medical tw //#high stress situations tw //#mentions of blood //#honestly this is more of a log for me in a more concrete area than discord #but if anyone's interested in the Fuckening that is my life rn #have at it

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fae-fucker · 6 years

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Zenith: Chapter 27-28

Chapter 27

We’re back with Valen. It’s all dark darkness and vengeance will be his and he’s sad his sister is dead. That’s all his character is, really.

Has a dead sister

Is an Artiste

Dank darkness

Really wants vengeance

Is there anything else? Let me know in the comments! Don’t forget to smash that like button and subscribe to my channel for more tired witticisms.

Valen hears a sound outside and:

With trembling limbs, Valen reached up and gripped the bars on his cell door, then pulled himself up so he could peer out through them.

So ... you’re telling me that ... the guards also sit in complete darkness? Just to fuck with the prisoners? Because Valen can’t wank on and on about the DAAHKNESS if this whole time there’s been a window in the cell unless the corridors outside are also completely dankly dark.

Whatever. Valen sees Dex, whom he describes as a “star-covered man” because gotta get that SJM juice somehow and we all know SJM has a hard-on for stars. He then sees Andi, standing in the DAAAHKNESS with her super-duper high tech GLOWING CUFFS PLEASE NOTICE THE GLOWING CUFFS SHINSAY WORKED REALLY HARD ON THIS HARD SCI-FI WORLDBUILDING.

We get another predator comparison because Shinsay has the collective creativity of an old banana peel, and Valen describes Andi twice within 2 paragraphs, using pretty much the same words, because fuck you.

Andi slices the guard’s arm off with her cool electrical whip, and for a man who hates Andi, Valen sure takes his sweet time describing how cool and badass and dangerous she is. I mean, who cares about character consistency when you have a protag whose ego you have to stroke every five seconds? The reader is never smart enough to think she’s badass based on her actions, you simply MUST describe everything she does as badass!

Androma Racella wasn’t an angel.

She was death incarnate.

Ok.

Chapter 28

There’s an alarm and Shinsay uses the word twice within two sentences because get fucked.

Valen doesn’t want to get out, because who cares about realism when your character is such a spooky scary space pirate that even torture victims would rather continue get tortured and dying slowly instead of getting saved by her?

It makes too much sense!

Apparently Valen leaves a trail of blood as he crawls backwards. How is he not dead yet?

He was a shadow of the person she’d once known, but he was still a Cortas—a living fragment of Kalee.

I’m pretty sure that’s not how genetics work, Androma.

She uses this to motivate herself to save Valen, and it makes her feel like a Spectre again.

She knocks Valen out with a knock to the noggin so she and Dex can drag him out (obviously Valen’s already critical condition will not be worsened by blunt force trauma, because this is video games and research is hard when you’re a vapid booktuber and a mediocre YA author), while also doing cool combat against six armed guards, because Dex taught her one-handed swordfighting that one time. Insert Skyrim+masturbation reference here.

I mean yeah. Sure. Whatever. At this point I’m too tired to even say anything.

I will, however, mention that Valen smells “rotten.” Are we absolutely sure he’s not dead?

She gripped her short-whip tight, imagining it was one of her swords, already seeing the way she’d slice it through tendons like a blade carving through raw meat.

Hey, uh. Not to spoil your fun or anything, but I’m like 99.99% sure that using a whip is uuuuuh completely different from wielding a sword? But what do I know, I’m not a ko0le spays pie rut.

They sprang, their two bodies moving in one single motion, Valen still between them.

Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt again. Just a quick note: Can you maybe put Valen down to dispatch the guards and then pick him up when you’re done? Since you’re such COOL BADASSES, wouldn’t it be quicker to just kill the guards first and then get Valen, instead of ... carrying the guy between you, severely impairing both of your abilities?

Then again, I guess neither Dex nor Andi have to suffer any sort of consequences and any handicap just makes them stronger, so hell, pick up the other two guards you killed. Carry three dudes! Fling them around like a flesh-tornado!

Andi’s whip flashed in a glorious arc [...]

Uh-huh.

Andi does some Cool Flips and then a bit of her hair gets singed, which sends her into a murderous rage, because priorities.

Andi gets stabbed in the shoulder and barely reacts before yanking the knife out (fucking dumbass) and charges blindly at more guards, blinded by more murderous rage (she’s like, on her third layer of murderous rage at this point), leaving Dex and Valen alone and defenseless, apparently. My eyes were rolling over as I read this so I have no idea what happened.

Dex decides to throw Valen’s unconscious body at the guards.

...

Honestly, the fact that I’m still reading this fucking book is an insult to my intelligence. I should be doing better things. I should be writing. I should be enjoying an episode of Aggretsuko. I should draw yet another OC of mine.

Instead, I’m reading about a bounty hunter who just threw his unconscious, heavily bleeding, heavily damaged ward who most likely has a serious concussion down one flight of stairs.

But hey, at least it’s not twenty flights of stairs, right? No, that’s literally in the fucking book.

The guy was unconscious. No harm done unless he died on the descent—it was only one flight of stairs, not twenty.

Obviously, being unconscious makes people invulnerable. Unless they die.

I don’t want to insult the authors, but either Lindsay and Sasha are extremely fucking stupid, or they think you are. Pick your poison.

Also I just noticed. Each and every chapter has big letters announcing which POV we’re in at the beginning, but they’re rendered completely useless when we switch POVs mid-chapter anyway, without anything but context clues telling us who we’re following this time.

Top-notch editing, lads.

Anywhoo, they fight through the guards and meet up with Soy.

Who promptly shoots them both.

I wish she shot them to death, but even if the chapter ends all dramatically and we’re supposed to be shocked, this is just chapter 28, and I remember Soy mentioned she can bring people back to life.

The end is nowhere in sight, fuckos!

#eff reads: zenith

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knightofameris · 3 years

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goodmorning dhaksneksjd I LOVE CREATING YOUR OWN AU’s oh god i used to do that with freaking stranger things. PLS. i hate it here. grrr i just love tony stark (‘:

ima admit something fhskdnd i never read the comics so i don’t really have an opinion on these types of things but!! i can say that they definitely could’ve casted someone younger. and the only reason i really prefer peter parker is bc i’ve only seen those movies )): i never had a chance to watch miles’ story or toby mguire (is that how u spell his name—) i would honestly love to if i was given the chance but it’s never been presented to me so ):

this is a very unpopular opinion on marvel but i really liked antman and wasp JDJAJSS idk how to feel about how it fits into the MCU timeline but i liked it as its own movie. i thought it was really cool (‘: i’ll be rambling abt cute chem boy in a different post bc it’s LONG oopsies

—🧸<3

good MORNING BUT REALLY GOOD NIGHT? i finished my project so i am finally letting myself treat myself by REPLYING LMAO i’m sorry AHHH

PLEASE I HAVE SO MANY AU’S,,,,,, I HAVE A HAIKYUU AU WITH MY FRIENDS PLANNED OUT IT’S BASICALLY JUST A SELF-INSERT BUT LIKE. IM THE ONLY WRITER SO IT’S ALL JUST ME WRITING IT. WHICH IS FINE. SOME OF MY FRIENDS FEED ME IDEAS AND I WRITE NOTES DOWN TO MAKE SURE I GET TO IT. my marvel au is with some really old friends and one of them is part of the haikyuu au as well LOL. and basically every fandom i was ever really into, i just, i guarantee you i have an au either written (partially) or somewhere in my noggin (currently trying to come up with something for genshin impact with my friends too lOL)

and pls. i would. i would like tony stark as my dad PLEASE. he’s just neat yk?

AND OMG NO DON’T WORRY. i didn't even read comics until 2018? and i was into marvel since 2012 soooooooo DON’T WORRY. even then, i just read the hawkeye comics cus kate bishop is the only one i care about (maybe clint i guess) now. i love her. so so so much. AND NO I GET IT TOO. I STILL LOVE TOM HOLLAND’S PETER PARKER. it’s totally possible to criticize a media you love, and even then you can be aware of the flaws but you don’t have to point it out to people who are like “you know the >>media<< you like is flawed right?” you can just enjoy it to enjoy it! again, marvel, i will always have t h o u g h t s SO IF YOU. IF YOU BRING IT UP I WILL RAMBLE I’M SORRY LMAOOO

and dude i-i grew up with toby’s spiderman and still always fucking up his last name. maguire? i think??? im not googling it for the sake of it either be an actual fuck up or actually being right LMAO i liked andrew garfield’s spider-man tbh! he had lots of potential i think lul

NO I ALSO LOVED ANTMAN AND THE WASP, IDK WHY PEOPLE DON T LIKE IT. ALSO i really love evangeline lilly and just, hope in general? like hope is so wonderful i love her so much. i love the ant man movies cus they’re just fun. im tired of dark and gritty just let me laugh at something stupid lmao

#please im sorry #i will ramble about marvel #i would ramble about haikyuu but like #i did that a lot already too so LOOOOL #plus all im in the mood to write for is just haikyuu soooooooo #a.responds #from.🧸#a.anonfamily!!#from.nonnie

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sarcasticabibliophobic · 6 years

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How to passive-aggressively write a final reflection essay

Do you hate your professor for being a jerk? Did you die inside when they told you about the final reflection essay you had to write on the class you hated? Never fear my frustrated dude, for I have some tips that will make the experience a little more deliciously vengeful.

Rubric for these essays is generally pretty lax and you can get away with a lot more than you can in a scholarly paper. I think I got an A on my most spiteful, venomous one ever, and that professor was notorious for being very very strict on essay-grading. Some won’t even grade the writing, they just give you an A if you submit it. So chug your espresso at 2 AM and get ready to use all that devious knowledge from your freshman psychology class, and mind-fuck impress your mortal enemy professor...

- admit to your professor in your intro that you are going to be honest in the paper, because you respect them too much to lie about your experience in their class (read: haha yea right look I know they’re garbage too but you can’t just SAY that you heathen). This works so well as an intro I can’t even.

- you know those word-problems where they include two words that that are exactly the same in a row:) and you have to find them? Do that. Do it with words like “and” “or” “but” “the”- you get the picture. I like to go one or two per page, find the most innocuous places to put them, that strategy works best.

- for some of your complaints, pretend its YOUR fault that it is a complaint (I mean it probably isn’t, or maybe you will find something that was genuinely your fault who knows, but don’t worry about your pride. Remember, you are bamboozling this professor, this is your masterpiece. Pretend you’re helpless, then destroy them. Be more like Black Widow). For example, “I guess there’s a reason why I’m not a science major because XYZ was very tricky,” or “I was unprepared for the essay style you prefer, up until now I have only used APA,” etc. Damsel in distress.

- rant about topics you covered in class that made you angry, but frame them as an intellectual discussion with your professor or something. You know how doing that turns you into a genius with all the facts and arguments? Do that. Rant about the sexist author or the bias on XYZ topic. Subtly point out the professor’s bias as a “constructive criticism” if you feel really brazen.

- do extra research about a topic you learned in class (you didn’t even have to like it at the time, just pick something that the professor didn’t do as good a job of covering or something and blow them away with your bullshit brilliance and initiative), and talk about how you liked that and that you wished there was more on that topic etc, so the poor sap that comes after you next semester will have a more interesting time. Tell them that you did the extra reading too, they always fall for that.

- use all the fancy tricks in the book to hit that word count/page limit. My favorite is switching “also” to “in addition to this” or something similar. You’re welcome.

I have more tips running around in my noggin, but these were the ones that were filed under “Most Useful Shit.jpg”. Do whatever else you can to schmooze that demon with a PhD in Assholery. Now go my apprentices, and pour all of your anger, malice, rage, and spite into the most glorious five-page reflection paper that ever there was MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Also make sure you change the fonts of all your punctuation marks from 12 to 14, just because, you evil son of a gun ^-^

#writing tips #essay #essays #how to write #rage #college #maybe high school #passive-agressive #evil #devious #i am tired #college tips #go forth and be evil #how to write an essay

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bnrobertson1 · 6 years

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Chin Up, Algorithms

Greta Van Fleet is known for three things: (1) Shamelessly sounding like Led Zeppelin, (2) Getting critically shat on for shamelessly sounding like LZ and (3) being the cause of people attacking the music press for, you know, just not getting it, man.* I haven’t had the privilege or desire to meet the band of Detroit teenagers, but I don’t like the thought of these up-and-comers, who so clearly have the world by the tail, being down about the cruel nature of living in the public eye. So, I decided to encourage them the only way I know how: by giving them Pump Up Speech they’ve essentially begged me for **.

*Sample quote: “It’s like an awesome new version of Led Zeppelin and refreshing for people who (like myself) are overloaded with electro-pop and generic rap that is dominating the airwaves and Spotify streams.”

** in my mind

[SETTING: BACKSTAGE @ University of Phoenix Stadium. Although the stadium walls shake with blandly enthusiastic anticipation, the band is depressed after some especially rough reviews. The label has flown me in to get them in a better headspace before they go “shred” with Imagine Dragons in front 100,000 people in the desert. They await my arrival in their green room.]

BONGO DRUMMER (I’m guessing his name is Derrrbb) [flustered]: Well, the label said they’d…

SMASH. Before anyone even realizes the door has been kicked open, Derrrbb’s head gets hit with an unidentified object and caves in like whatever politician you don’t like being questioned by whatever politician you do like.

All are silent. There is a vacuum in the air that all present notice and appreciate, a calm before the storm heavy with some serious truth debris.

I stand motionlessly, a cricket bat (name: BAM BAM) dangles in my hand like a windchime. Finally, I animate. The next five minutes consist of me smashing any and everything that needs smashing. Vanity mirrors. SMASH. Two Man Harps. SMASH. Curling irons. SMASH SMASH SMASH. To add to the effect, my face is bleached with flour meant to resemble narcotics. Red dye, surprisingly sweet, is also on my face for even further dramatic effect, although it is mixing with the flour, making a fairly delicious combination that is difficult not to lick. I then remember I left all that fake drug crap back in my van, so we’re on the real deal, baby. My eyes start twitching as my pupils dilate. Fucking Great Van Fleet. I was saving all that for Frasier night at mom’s house. Oh well, might as well get this over with. Taking a slightly manic British affectation, I speak.

“Listen. Up. You. FUCKS!!!”

I find the closest “Eastern” instrument and spend close to half an hour tirelessly destroying it with BAM BAM into pieces so infinitesimal that it would be nearly impossible to prove that it ever actually existed. An Imagine Dragons’, let’s say, oboist(?) cries in the background, I tirelessly smash the Sitar out of its misery. Noticing I’m distracted with obliterating instruments, Greta Van Fleet’s lead singer slowly starts to gain some courage, finally speaking “Hey man! Th….”

“SHUTTTTTT ITTTTT,” I politely interrupt, picking up the lead singer, let’s call him Gene, by his VERY COOL “Indian” apparel, discus throwing him into the sun. I finally take a deep breath. Then another. Then I seethe for fifteen minutes before speaking.

“Perhaps, I should start from scratch. I’m here because your record label paid me enough a volcano-choking amount of dough to fly here and give you boys a pick-me-up because you’ve been down in the dumps with all this negative pWess. You know, a little pep pep. Maybe a pat on the noggin, a drink at me teet. And yep, boys, it’s been brutal. Look what it says here [picking up a stray computer]: ‘derivative,’ [I throw the computer at the regular drummer like a throwing star, it sticking in his head, killing him instantly] “vampiric,” [I just punch some dude for having a pube stache], “totally passionless” [I consider how many pounds of pasta a crazy busy Olive Garden goes through the day].

I continue. “And so what? Did you really get into rock n’ roll to impress critics. CRITICS!?! Some 45-year old cumrag making in a year what you do you do in a day selling your ‘Indigenous Peoples’ Greta Van Fleet Start Pack?’ Do you think for one segment of a second that one of those keyboard warriors wouldn’t change places with you? They’d floss with the bones of their young just to have one person applaud them out loud, much less a 100,000 at one time.

Full name: Indigenous Peoples’ Greta Van Fleet Start Pack* with individually numbered Bansuri

So what do they do? They talk shit on the internet like the true desperados they are. Real John fucking Waynes, this lot. ‘Oh, they’re just some product made by record industry focus group testing?’ Oh really? Well guess what else is- EVERYTHING. But there’s hope: all the stuff you get in return does not know the difference. Let me assure you, gentlemen, breasts and narcotics…” [and this point I disappear for 45 minutes. I return very, very excited to continue our chat].

“YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH. Where was I?!?! Buildings! No. Oh Greta Van Fleet. So yeah like I was saying, your record label didn’t think they were signing the new Lou Reed or the new Daft Punk or fuck even the new Seven Mary fucking Three when they got you to sign on the dotted line. They just have enough data to know people like Led Zeppelin’s sound and to know that you fill that bill quite nicely. Sure, those Steve McQueen-esque critics may call you “derivative” as they take a break from their marathon love-making, but guess what- so is everybody who has ever used the word ‘the.’ Plus, derivative or not, none of you are in your sixties going on about Satanism and asking for stupid amounts of money, so the powers picked you. Plus you didn’t seem to have any pre-existing medical conditions. But don’t fool yourself: each and every one of you cash registers are just glorified human-shaped SONOS machines. Play these songs, get your paycheck, and then exhaust all of your senses- especially which ever one tells you to ever speak. I LOVE THE LIGHTS!

Anyway, boys, think about this: Your songs have been played billions of times. BILLIONS. Add that all up and that’s more time than the entirety of Mr. “I have a Graduate Degree Yet Make Less than $35,000” Journalist McFuckFace has been on this planet, or any other. Don’t let him sting you with limp-dicked insults, boys. You have won. Look at this [picks up $10,000 guitar]. And this [picks up a huge pile of vaporizers with both hands]. ALL THE VAPES IN THE WORLD! AND THIS! [I open the treasure chest full of jewels that is in the room for some reason. I take a few of the jewels out and starts rubbing them all over my body for, let’s say, 20 minutes.]

[I continue.] Critics get to be “smart,” you get to be “rich and famous,” which is another way of saying you get to be anything you want, except smart, which is overrated. Just ask the chess master who lives in the park next to my 9,600 sq. penthouse suite. He asks for the cheese on the wax paper of my morning bagel I’m usually far too hungover to eat. That’s the type who “know about music.” When you’re thinking about what type of ice sculpture Wedding 9 should have, he’ll be teaching a Community College Class about the “Evils of Capitalism,” and mates, he’ll know that truth as soundly as you won’t remember one fucking fact about him.

My point, my little gold mines, [I take the bassist’s face in my hands] my beautiful little gold mines [that’s not the bassist. I don’t care] is that none of this shit matters. We’re just here for a blip, so make it a boom. Who cares if “the right people” respect you? Or if that cute girl with the thick-brimmed glasses who keeps uncracked Pynchon nearby admires your mind? I’ve got bad news for you all: none of you are Thom Yorke. I also have great news: NONE OF YOU ARE THOM YORKE. You’re not doomed to spend your days thinking about the feelings of a vacuum cleaner replacement part or some shit. Embrace your inner hedonism- that is the true spirit of LZ. Not some stolen blues riffs and shark fucking (google it). Let your creativity run wild with how you put things in and out of your bodies. AND BECOME A GOD FOR IT.

So sorry, people will not be studying your album notes decades from now looking for clues into your genius or how the structure of some ballad is meant to mirror some fucking world ill. And that shouldn’t bother you one bit- worrying about how the future will consider you is for academics and people who think because their current life blows that it will somehow be championed in the future because they didn’t have the gall to do anything in the present. If they’re lucky they’ll get a paper towel made in their honor. If we’re lucky, that paper towel will be produced using child-labor and earth-destroying products. Nothing wipes the shit grin off their “sophisticated” faces quite like hypercriticism, and buddy, we’ll assure you there’ll be plenty of that.

So people are calling you just a rip-off of Led Zeppelin? Congrats, you’ve hit the gold mine. Now all that’s left to do is shine. Oh, you’re welcome. Now fuck off.”

As I start to leave, one of the band member’s asks a question about “authenticity” and whether I wondered whether aping the musicians who aped other musicians “problematic.” My brain- whose resting speed is somewhere in between a figuring out how to fly and a full blown aneurysm- weaponizes, liquifying all remaining members who are in the room. I take the liquid and make ceremonial “Energy Pendants,” where I put a drop or two in a vaguely “spiritual” rock (I call them ‘crystals’), selling them for $3,500 a piece. I become a millionaire and marry Kate Upton on the moon. Oh, and because I’m so well liked and wealthy, the actual Led Zeppelin plays the reception. They play a 14- minute version of “Kashmir.” It slays.

THE END

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