finally got around to watching nimona because i've seen so many people talking about it and wow, it really is a metaphor for transphobia and the struggles that trans people face with being accepted.
nimona constantly being asked the question of "what are you" symbolizing people's entitlement to know one's gender identity to figure out if they're cis or trans.
nimona constantly being told to be normal symbolizing trans people being told to accept their agab and conform to society's expectations
ballister's struggle with accepting nimona symbolizing those whole struggle to unlearn what they've been taught but eventually finding the ability within themselves to accept.
the director using ballister as a coverup symbolizing how discriminated groups (in his case being a commoner) are often used as scape goats to avoid confronting the real issue.
the director finding the scroll symbolizing people finding that one tiny piece of information to still try and turn people against the trans community even though its not actually true.
nimona's line of driving a sword through things they don't understand literally representing a large portion of society and their resistance and struggle to accept things they don't understand right away
young gloreth symbolizing how children are naturally more accepting of those who are different but are taught prejudice by the older generation that has yet to give acceptance.
wow, just wow. these are just a few of my thoughts. i honestly wish i was taking notes while watching but i wanted to fully enjoy the movie without interrupting myself. every scene i was seeing symbolism for trans/queer struggles. i'm including queer because i feel a lot of these issues not only apply to trans people but other marginalized groups especially in the queer community. the whole movie is a call out to prejudice that just especially queer.
i wish more people could see this movie with the understanding of what it is trying to teach and learn from its lesson how to be more accepting and that just because something was always taught to us one way, doesn't make it the right way.
Has "Eve eating the fruit of knowledge of good and evil and and feeling regret for what she now can't unlearn. But as a metaphor for the pain of the Trans experience" been done already?
Like, the way how those vague feelings of uneasiness around your body and your understanding of yourself have always existed but the pain of them becomes more complex once you discover you are trans, the way how this deepened understanding of yourself and others has brought pain to those who thought they were safe in the heaven they thought their parents would always give them in the form of their love?
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Let's see how deep the rabbit hole goes as we look at the queer anti-capitalist politics of The Matrix Resurrections (and the entire franchise).
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✔ FURTHER READING✔
▶"Anti-Capitalism" is Capitalist" by Saint Andrewism - • "Anti-Capitalism"...
▶"The Matrix Sequels Are Good, Actually" by Sophie From Mars & Sarah Zedig - • The Matrix Sequel...
▶"Squid Game: Ideology And The New Soviet Man" by Kay and Skittles - • Squid Game: Ideol...
▶"The Matrix Resurrections Is Absolutely Beautiful" by Renegade Cut - • The Matrix Resurr...
▶"Lana and Lilly Wachowski: Sensing Transgender" by Cael Keegan - https://www.press.uillinois.edu/books...
▶"How The Matrix universalized a trans experience — and helped me accept my own" - https://www.vox.com/culture/2019/3/30...
▶"The Alt-Right Has Lost Control of Redpill" -https://www.theatlantic.com/technolog...
▶"The Nature of Work" by Jessie Gender - • The Nature of Work
▶"A Case Study in Digital Radicalism" by Innuendo Studios - • Endnote 5: A Case...
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0:00 - The Rabbit Hole
2:18 - Intro
10:00 - Ad
11:12 - Part 1: Meta
27:43 - Part 2: Reactions
51:46 - Part 3: Nostalgia
1:28:25 - Part 4: The System
1:44:22 - Part 5: System Failure
1:59:33 - Special Announcement
something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.
not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.
you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.
but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.
you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.
but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.
you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.
you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?
you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.
you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!
you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"