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pochapal · 3 years

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I hate doctor 11 but ive never been able to explain why in like words lmao. He feels like such a mary sue character imo and like theres something about his characterisation that was always just really ineffective (like the stuff about fishfingers and custard or whatever it was). Imo i'd love to hear you give top 5 worst things about the 11 era because i rlly just love when it gets torn apart

i hold nothing but a seething contempt and loathing for that man. every time he appeared on screen i felt ready to snap like a riled up chimpanzee in my enclosure. i am frothing at the mouth and overcome with a desire to start flinging heavy objects. this might be incoherent and inconsistent but i started this rewatch in feb 2020 and only finished this week so i got through 11′s episodes last august/september time and i refuse to revisit it to jog my memory or fact check anything i’m saying here because this man does not deserve the space in my mind for that.

the first thing is i can’t fucking STAND the quirky whimsy timey wimey bit he has going on all of the time. i can’t even say this is because this is a kids show and i was a teen and then adult when i first properly watched him but actually!! when i was eleven years old i’d sleep over at a friend’s house most weekends and it always coincided with the airing of a new season 5 episode and i remember we watched the finale with the dumb time hopping to get out of the box prison that was never explained and didn’t make sense and i thought at the time “this is really stupid”. and before that my only other doctor who exposure was watching the david tennant christmas specials with another friend and throughout childhood my only opinion on doctor who was “this is a tv show that is not for me but is one that all the boys i am friends with like so i will put up with it to maintain our friendships” but at least those episodes were both suspenseful and engaging enough to keep me watching all the way through. like who the fuck does an end of the world sci fi plot and approaches it with an “oopsy woopsy i am a funny little alien man who is going to stop you all by making you do a hecking silly” like it’s unneeded and self-parodies an already cheesy show to the point where it becomes unwatchable and makes it impossible to ever take this man seriously.

next thing that downright sucks ass so badly is the stupid fucking overwritten constantly escalating plotlines. like everything from season 5 up until his regeneration at the end of season 7 is meant to be this grand interconnected cosmic plot about how...the doctor trying to bring back his planet will end the universe or something so all the top powers across all of reality tried again and again to stop him from doing that except he doesn’t know what’s going on so he keeps thwarting these people who supposedly mean good?? i mean i sure don’t fucking know what they were trying to say!! like for some reason we never get the doctor suddenly becomes this superdemon that threatens everything so these people (whoever they are) decide to, in sequence: suck him through a time rift to erase him from existence, trap him in a prison and remake a universe without him, take his companion’s baby and turn her into a perfectly trained doctor killer, form two(!!) secret societies to hunt him throughout history that are only stopped by his companion splintering herself across his personal timeline to protect him, and repeatedly cause reality collapsing events because it’s a kinder outcome for the universe than what he will do. this grand and terrible event turns out to be...he spends a few hundred years chilling by a rift that leads to his home planet and protects a few generations of children from monsters which convinces them to give him infinite regeneration power then fuck off back to their pocket universe. and it’s like!! what is the point of anything that happens in this man’s era when everything is always “the darkest moment” or whatever the fuck!! i don’t care!! we never get a compelling reason to believe this bumbling clown of a man could ever be a universal threat!! the whole thing is so dumb i hate it!!!

thing number three i hate is how the eleventh doctor is ALSO characterised as this abrasive egotistic male supergenius to the point where he becomes genuinely indistinguishable from bbc sherlock. genuinely who enjoyed seeing this guy constantly tell people their tiny human minds can’t comprehend what he’s doing and then basically just wave his magic wand to solve whatever problem each episode is facing. 2012 is the year of human sin because this fucking shitsmear character archetype somehow became both a redditor role model AND a tumblr sexyman and it’s like!! nobody is enjoying this stop making this seem cool! him saying timey wimey thing any time he does anything is frustrating and dumb and locks the viewer out of giving a fuck about anything that is happening! smartest man in the room syndrome is a disease and the eleventh doctor is terminal with it. like remember how they established river as an accomplished scientist (when she wasn’t being a child soldier or a time paradox or whatever the fuck) and every time that came up mr doctor eleven man was like “oh this thing is obvious because i’m a genius and you didn’t realise because your brain is tiny so get out of the way and let the grownups think” or that time it turned out amy had been replaced with a slime clone for half the season and the doctor chewed rory (audience surrogate) out for somehow not realising this fact we didn’t know right from the start and like. this served no purpose other than to draw into severe question why the doctor is also this super beloved magical figure implicitly trusted by all children everywhere like. mr steven moffat is totally allergic to writing and solving mysteries in his tv show and fuck you for wanting to figure things out as you go along based on the new evidence you uncover at strategic plot intervals just let this asshole man use magical thinking to reveal he knew the answer all along and you’re a fucking idiot for not also realising this thing which had no basis or precedent anywhere else in the show.

speaking of dumb things let us not forget the absolute shitshow that was minority representation in this era. i’m not even talking about the low hanging fruit of how genuinely unironically sexist amy and clara were written where each episode moffat either seemed to loathe them or was incredibly horny over them and they had no character growth or arc or fucking anything. i’m talking about how fucking shit terrible the incidental representation was. god remember how every single fucking gay person who appeared in this era was written as one incredibly fucking stupid joke and how the women were all either sexy dominatrix, feeble girl in love, or Mother (or all three in some really terrible cases) and i’m not qualified to talk about this but also how incredibly white this era was and how on two separate occasions we had monarchs reimagined as sexy girlbosses with a gun played by black women who the doctor leched over. nothing about any of this was good ESPECIALLY coming off the back of rtd who was surprisingly forward thinking for 2005 and did a really good job of positing travel with the doctor as queer allegory. in comparison moffat gave us THE MOST heterosexual shlock i’ve ever had to endure. amy and rory could have been interesting characters were they not hemmed into this domestic bickering young straight married couple bullshit that was in no way changed or altered by traveling with the doctor except for the quasi incestuous river song reveal that was dumb and bad and stupid.

the last major mega gripe i have with the series is moffat’s fucking jingoistic boner for british military aesthetics. this carried over throughout his entire tenure as showrunner but was super terrible vomit inducing in eleven’s era. the unironic admiration for ww2 britain and winston churchill is downright wretched. are you incapable of telling a second world war story outside of churchill’s london and plucky blitz fighters. shit gives me hives so badly. and then!!! that weird church owned army that features in the future that end up being bad not for the concept of what basically amounts to an imperialistic intergalactic rendition of the fucking crusades but because they’re part of the nonsense go nowhere puzzlebox narrative that says the doctor is a not good man who will do bad things to the universe :(. remember how rtd’s doctor was a freshly traumatised man hot off the war criminal press who time and time again vehemently refuses to engage in military violence, but who tragically inadvertently turns every one of his companions into soldiers in his own personal army, and he has this moment of complete horror at the realisation and it is this which causes the downward spiral that ends in 10′s regeneration. and then how there’s this cringe line about how there’s a force of people who are “the doctor’s army, always ready to fight his battles when he’s not around” or some shit and then it turns out this is actually massive literal military operation and we’re meant to celebrate this. fuck off.

bonus round because this needs to be said but i have never hated anything like i hated that fucking human tardis episode. everything about it induced violent anger in me from the sickening overindulgence of that softgoth dark whimsy helena bonham carter tim burton aesthetic to the bafflingly terrible evil carny stereotype of those junk scavengers to the overblown sudden tragic shipbait romance of human tardis and the doctor. every word out of her mouth was trite shit and the fact that the death of her body was presented as this super emotional dramatic scene despite there being no buy in or incentive to care and the fact that every single person on tumblr in 2012 ate that shit up like it was fucking gourmet. i loathe every single thing about that episode so much.

#Anonymous #hi bestie here's 1500 words of me getting mad about the worst television experience i had in my life #why the FUCK was this man tumblr's favourite back in the day. what the fuck did anyone see in any of this shit #i never want to think about dr whom ever again

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howdoyousleep3 · 4 years

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Daddy!Steve NSFW ABCs 🌶

AHHHHH it is here! Well...it is here but it is in pieces, haha. I’ve decided to do little installments because I was getting carried away. This post is E, F, G, and H! It includes Twink!Bucky as well because it was inevitable. Please please enjoy and please please litter my inbox and notifications with love if you think I am worthy of it. ILY.

Part 1: A, B, C, and D

Experience Before Steve came into his life Bucky thought he was living his best sex life. He had been in both committed relationships and had fucked around but he didn’t have very many complaints as to how his sex life had played out. But then he met Steve and he turned Bucky’s world upside down. Bucky wasn’t aware of the amounts of pleasure he could receive from sex and sexual acts. Maybe it was how damned attracted Bucky was to the older man, maybe it was also how well Steve knows his way around the human body, but Bucky was wrapped around Steve’s finger.

Bucky was very aware that Steve was extremely experienced, had an extensive sexual history behind him that Bucky did not have. Steve has never once made Bucky feel bad for not being experienced and instead used his inexperience to his advantage. In all honesty, Bucky is almost quite certain that his lack of experience was an immense turn on for Steve. He grabbed up the opportunity the show Bucky things: the plethora of ways he can feel, the many different toys there are, positions, locations. Showing Bucky how incredible sex could be got Steve’s dick hard, quite literally.

Turns out Bucky didn’t really have a sex life before Steve. Steve made Bucky feel like a blushing virgin. Bucky’s mouth had never been fucked before Steve. Bucky had never had anyone come on his face before Steve. Bucky had never had sex in the kitchen, had never been thrown up against a window and fucked, had never been fucked standing up. Bucky had never had multiple orgasms, had never reached that floaty part of his brain before, had never referred to his asshole as a “pussy” or a “cunt”. He had never begged to be fucked, had never drooled for a cock, had never been put on his knees before, had never laid on the couch with a cock just sitting inside of him. Steve showed him an entire other world he had not known about.

Steve teaching him about himself led to the older man to learning every weakness Bucky had, how to play him like a fine-tuned instrument, how to make him crumble but how to put him back together in the end. Steve knew how to make Bucky come faster than he can ever comprehend, knew how to make him cry, knew how to make him succumb to his own desire, to Steve, knew how to make Bucky weak and floaty.

Not only did Steve know how to work Bucky over, he knew his own body well, what it was capable of and how to bring himself the most pleasure out of each scenario. One of Bucky’s weaknesses is when Steve guides Bucky, tells him how to make Daddy feel good. “There you go, sugar tighten that grip, yessss, both hands, so sweet for me. Oh fuck, play with my balls, bring one hand down and squeeze, pull at ‘em a little. Fuck, baby so good at listening to Daddy.”

Steve’s confidence and experience and capability were an incredible turn-on for Bucky.

Favorite Position If Steve has a favorite position it is only because it is the one he most frequently ends up in and that’s Missionary. There are a few positions that come close. He loves to have Bucky’s back pressed to his chest while he’s in his lap, sitting atop his thighs, thinking he’s in control. Steve loves to wrap his hand around the front of the younger man’s throat as he fucks up into him, kissing at the side of his face and whispering every nasty thought that pops into his head into Bucky’s ear as Bucky scrambles for any kind of purchase. He also adores to take Bucky on all fours, loves pushing him face down, increasing that arch in his back, gripping his neck. He loves watching that pert little ass grip and jiggle around him, loves having easy access to smack at Bucky’s cheeks.

But nothing compares to having Bucky underneath him, absolutely nothing. He loves overwhelming the younger man in various different ways, and because this position is extremely intimate, it is an easy Number One for Steve. He loves looking down at Bucky all spread out like a slut for Daddy, thighs spread, little cock hard and wet, eyes barely open. He loves being able to touch Bucky, to have total control of the situation. He loves that he can bring his fingers down to stick them in Bucky’s mouth, loves that he can bring his hand down to smack at the younger’s cheek a little. He adores that he can pull lithe thighs against his chest, ankles crossed behind Steve’s neck, pound into that little cunt like he owns it.

Steve loves the closeness the most. He loves being close to Bucky, feeling like one with him. He loves Bucky, wants to give him the world, wants every time they are together to be better than the last. There is nothing that compares to looking into Buck’s steely eyes and watching him nod his head frantically, breathe in his small noises as he comes on Steve’s cock. He loves feeling Bucky’s body underneath him, as much skin as possible pressed together, loves putting his hands on either side of the younger’s face, pressing kisses into his lax lips as he shudders through another climax.

Nothing beats good ‘ol Missionary.

Goofy It is very hard to look at Steve and to not be intimidated by him. He is a large man who carries himself well and with confidence and that is without acknowledging his beauty. Steve’s looks make him extremely intimidating, notch him up to a unattainable level, a level that most people won’t come to touch. Bucky considers himself the luckiest sonofabitch in the world to be the one on the receiving end of Steve’s smiles, to hear his giggles, experience the joy that is Steve Rogers letting loose and being carefree.

Steve takes intimacy seriously, very much so, and almost all of their times together have intense moments scattered throughout, mainly centered around their orgasms. While it is damn near impossible for Steve to not be intense while making love or fucking, he is, more often than not, very playful. Bucky can’t recall the amount of times Steve has smiled into their kisses, laughed, nipped at Bucky’s lips playfully. Bucky is ticklish, damn him, and Steve knows this, loves to get secrets and smiles out of him when Bucky is holding back. Ticklish sides and thighs combined with large competent hands easily lead to breathless laughter and extra-long squeezes.

Steve likes to pick Bucky up, throw his thighs around his small waist, even toss Bucky over one shoulder. Bucky is a light load for someone like Steve, easy to pick up and toss around, and it never fails to make the younger man giggles and squeal. He’ll toss Bucky down onto the bed, grab for his knees, clamber over him until Bucky gives in, tells him whatever he wants to hear as long as he isn’t tickled any longer. And…well, with Steve pressing him into the mattress and looking down at him with bright eyes, one thing easily leads to the other.

Some of Steve’s favorite times are when Bucky is on top, riding him, because he loves to take his time, go slow, savor every moment. It is a nice break from Steve’s hectic pace. He gets to marvel up at the beauty that is Bucky Barnes, touch his thighs, neck, nipples, lips, so sensitive. There are some moments where Bucky gets so overwhelmed he starts snickering in between his whimpers, eyes half-lidded, trying to hold his giggles back for the sake of the sex, but Steve adores it, adores Bucky.

There’s something about laughing with someone in such an intimate position, while connected to someone so deeply, that tugs at Steve’s heartstrings.

Hair There are an infinite number of Steve’s qualities that turn Bucky on but one that always comes back to startle him each and every time is Steve’s body hair. Bucky is not a hairy man, a light dusting of hair on his legs, under and on his arms. His pubic hair is light as well but that doesn’t tend to matter when he prefers to stay waxed for both himself and for Daddy, all smooth and sweet. Steve is different than Bucky. Steve has hair everywhere and Bucky is a really fucking hot for it.

The first thing that Bucky noticed about Steve, aside from his eyes, was his beard. Steve kept his beard trimmed and sharp and neat and Bucky loves it. He loves running his fingers through it, loves digging his teeth into Daddy’s jaw, loves running his lips across it. He loves to feel that beard between his ass cheeks when Daddy eats at his little hole, loves to feel a little burn of it afterwards. Steve puts oils in it and washes it every week, has a proper beard soap and everything, makes it so so soft. Bucky loves it. Bucky is also ridiculously attracted to Steve’s chest hair. It makes his mouth water, the way the darker hair covers his hefty tits, how it swirls down between those meaty pecs and trails south to his sternum, his torso, his lower stomach.

It makes Bucky’s mouth water.

The best part, the part that Bucky is a little ashamed to admit he enjoys so thoroughly, is Steve’s pubic hair. Unlike Bucky, he has hair down there and just like his beard, he keeps it tidy and trimmed. Bucky’s gut goes a little achy, his lower half tingly, when he gets a good eyeful or a tease of it. When Steve stretches in the kitchen, his belly peeking out, his sweatpants riding low across his hips, Bucky’s eyes are immediately drawn to it. When he’s suckling at the fat tip of Daddy’s cock, going slow the way he wants him to, he always desires to press forward, can’t wait until his nose digs into that thatch of hair at the base of his cock.

Bucky loves how Daddy is a little hairy.

Until next time...😘😘😘

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abstractindividual · 4 years

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December 31, 2019. | Recollection of events.

10:40 p.m.

• Greetings to the blog, the time has arrived for me to venture in my mind to process the three hundred and sixty four days that I experienced in this year.

• In this journey through life, every individual must sit and think carefully on the actions they make. Self-reflection of your actions, your thoughts and your words are a necessity to ensure you are monitoring your growth as a man, a woman or child. As 2020 approaches here in America, I do ask myself these questions yet again?

Are my decisions helping me improve in life and as an individual?

Am I leaving the former year a better human being or worse?

Did I use my time wisely in each day?

How have I improved since the beginning of the year?

Did I make an effort to ameliorate myself and to grow?

Am I improving my mental and emotional fortitude to pursue my day with peace and clarity? I have kept my body healthy to be balanced with a strong mind?

Did I make time to learn new information in each day?

Have I helped out an individual despite if I will not receive help in return?

Did I confront my insecurities and faults and resolve them?

Did I achieve any of my goals?

• My response is yes but failed in four. With misplacing items that I need to use, from emotional distress fluctuating to watching undisciplined and ugly (as in comportment/behavior) teenagers and other neighbors that caused a commotion in this subdivision. Improving my vocabulary to learn words such as Heuristics, amenesis or recalcitrant has been immensely joyous for me, though reiteration, neurobic/mental exercises will have to increase to ensure my focus and memory remains strong. My eyes witnessed an immeasurable amount of sad stories this year, and wanting to retain the importance of keeping a pellucid mind is also what I yearn to accomplish.

• My spiritual growth is neutral currently, as an individual who strive the importance of learning and emulating what you believe while stressing that we should think more and question more, many thoughts occupied my mind since 2015:

If the creator truly has a disdain for evil, what reason can he give to spare the life of his garage Angel, the first one to sin? Why was he not destroyed for what he did? What explanation is given to allow that filth be in the Garden of Eve? If the future was ordained before the incipience of our birth, why is the creator okay that he did not intervene to stop the Angel and prevent the immense evil that exist now?

Why is mankind denied a third choice? I have cogitated many times if the option to reject Heaven and Hell is permissible, though I was constantly given the same responses that the creator does not want his creations out of his presence. I can not be the only individual who cares not for being forced to go to one prison to another, as my spirit yearns to be in complete isolation.

Our souls come from heaven while a scripture states the creator held us before we entered this world. I am curious why when we leave the spiritual realm where no sin existed, only to be born on this Earth where evil reigns? To add why enter the living do not have any recollection of these events of being cared for by the creator? Why is mankind entering the world ignorant of the creator’s existence approved, being aware that the creator allowed his angel to destroy Earth and people became more divided can created their own gods.

I often think that the creator does not love the creations he took time to produce and that he is deliberately hurting us to pursue this journey of trails, though relatives claim that is not true. If we as the creation are not being punished or that we are loved, why can not leave this Earth as Enoch did alive? There are many lives (animals and man) suffering in this world, with a vast percentage suffering a sad end from neglect and no help. If freedom of choice is not a farce, what is the reason we are demanded to be in this world to be with evil and people who care not for your life? I among many individuals expressed a desire to leave the planet, either by a ship or voluntary that does not require death.

Why did the creator create the concept of spiritual contracts (e.g. covenants), generational curses, soul ties when many people who do not believe in him are aware these spiritual aspects exist? Can a human completely be held accountable if he or she is raised in a atheist household, raised by criminals, raised to believe in a false god? Why punish children (that mind you did not asked at all to be born in the bloodline they are chosen by the creator) to inherit curses from their relatives, and not inform the child? “The sins of the father” punishment is both sick and evil to me, as how can mankind be told that we are loved and that we are cared for, only to remember the creator was okay with a innocent baby inheriting the punishments and sins from his or her past relatives. I am not the only individual who thinks this thought, as other people too have expressed disgust in generational curses.

• The stress of not being taken seriously that harassment came from these individuals online and offline has left mostly disappointment this whole year. Balancing legal issues with managing this blog to monitoring unruly neighbors (one who is slandering your name and moronically speaking of your blog outside as if I can not hear you) has been a tiring experience.

• Does the reader comprehend how this feels when you have a twenty-eight year old who lives with his mother looking down on his neighbors who has not harmed him in any manner? A [physically] adult male pathetically asking children and other people to harass us for laughs, and the Police do not care? Stalking my blog here, only to speak on what you read to your company outside (I saw you from my security cameras watching our house, speaking on the September 2018 incident Nicholas Stewart.) Your stepfather help share what type of individual you are that you are constantly around the house, not doing any productive activities with your time. Not many people (only a small number I spoke to) seem to care, despite asking for suggestions and have searched what to do:

My frustration of being stalked by a mentally and emotionally unstable individual who would block me as Morgan Theresa Heron and Marcus Alan Butler cowardly did if I exposed your account is tiring. I have chosen to ensure if another incident or attack occurs, I have no problem revealing your location and exposing your fake, blank account that was following me. Interesting with what I subscribed to has assisted me in who visits my page, and no surprise that most of the visits are from Georgia:

• Then there is the situation with the tenants that first provoked the harassment since they first moved to Lakes of Kilkenny, starting with whom we noticed first in July 2013 leading up to who has yet to be identified. Despite having the evidence that we now have and calling certain offices of some Lawyers who will take our case, that was not enough to issue a subpoena and a arrest warrant for all participants involved. I am aware of what I need to do, but the time is not right yet. Six years, and no justice but I refuse to give up. I made a promise that my fight will continue to when I receive a call back and that will the case. One good news relating to these degenerates is that I am grateful that I was able to reach some individuals this year, including with the arrest from Carolyn Hoard from June of this year 2019:

• Though no booking picture has been found (yet), I now have saved the arrest information to ensure you will not cowardly try to request your arrests to be deleted. I share this now on multiple sites, If you boast of your hedonistic and demonic lifestyle daily, you should be proud of your arrests that came from your lifestyle is what I believe. Sadly, the case seems to be closed and the Office I contacted regarding this case can only inform me what they could.

The wicked are arrogant until they are finally punished, so I am not surprised that Hoard was arrested for a crime that involves requesting another party to commit a crime. The problem is that is also what Carolyn has done against me and my relatives, but has not been arrested yet along with her relatives and Conswala’s partner Gregory Armstrong. I will share more in the next post regarding Carolyn’s arrest.

For my closing words, I only desire that the reader and every individual who is good to be blessed in 2020 and through all of their life. We are not aware of what the future will bring, but try to make time to give yourself love (appreciation, congratulate what you accomplish, admit your faults and mistakes, be joyous for your health’s sake.) I express infinite thanks for reading, may your days be filled with love and joy.

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shinneth · 5 years

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The Gem Ascension Reference Tour 3: WWE/General Wrestling

Let’s get by far the biggest reference in GA out of the way.

Most people who’ve reviewed or talked to me about GA have never failed to bring up the hilarity of the Ruby Math scene. Where Ruby, damaged and isolated from all of her friends and spouse, was faced with hundreds of Era 2 Peridots that all claimed to be Facet-2F5L Cut-5XG. None of them were. Ruby was certain of that.

Even though Ruby wasn’t in the least bit of danger because Peridots are notorious for being sucky fighters without the limb enhancers (which they all had to go without to give off the illusion they’re the great and lovable edition), she was still faced with a very difficult task of getting all of these low-caste gems poofed and bubbled to Earth, since it was apparent by this point in GA3 that Homeworld itself was about to completely collapse. Steven was pretty adamant about saving as many gems in addition to Peridot as possible, but then there was a problem for this: Peridots are also crazy durable, and Ruby can only take out so many by herself in a damaged state before succumbing to exhaustion. So, she inadvertently found a way to poof a bunch of Peridots at once very quickly: spout off the stupidest math possible and watch their brains break as they try to comprehend where the hell you’re pulling these numbers from.

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Ruby Math is basically Steiner Math. Pretty much the same numbers were even used, because honestly, my own math skills are so goddamn horrific, I knew I’d somehow ruin this if I tried to put too much of a different spin on it.

So yeah, definitely don’t give me credit for all of the hilarity of that scene. All I can say is, Steiner Math wasn’t so potent that it literally blew Samoa Joe and Kurt Angle’s minds.

But hah, that’s not the only reference! As if.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

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(starts at 0:14)

Seemed like a random thing for Steven to say right after superkicking his girlfriend in the back of the head, right? Well, it’s based on this.

Sort of different ways they were utilized. Shawn Michaels says this (not really audible, but you can read his lips very easily) right before delivering his finishing move (that he had to use multiple times in a very long match) that finally took Ric Flair down and ended his very long career. Since HBK knew he was basically ending this man’s career with this action, and rightfully respects the man to the highest degree of one of the all-time greats, so it’s akin to a mercy killing.

For GA, this was the only way Steven knew how to subdue Peridot, who had gone off on Lapis and physically assaulted her for the first and only time in the story due to being in hysterics that Pumpkin was at death’s door, and Lapis was only calmly trying to drag her back down to reality. Peridot wasted valuable time she could have used to say goodbye to Pumpkin and really be there for her in her final moments to instead appeal to Steven to miraculously save her (which Steven had already all possible options on before Peridot even made it to the scene; he had to cut her off every time Peridot went off on a nonsensical tangent), then have words she herself used on Steven used on her by Lapis. Namely, the “you can’t save everybody” line. Peridot reacted by screaming at Lapis before bitchslapping her. So, Peridot was already massively trying Steven’s patience since he knew from the start there was nothing more to be done about Pumpkin and Peridot just couldn’t bring herself to accept it, hence the continued bargaining. Once she actually hurt a friend of theirs, Steven could clearly see no amount of talking would bring Peridot to her senses in time before Pumpkin completely passed on. So, Steven had to do and say things he was extremely uncomfortable about and normally would never say or do voluntarily, but Peridot, especially GA Peridot, has proved to be akin to talking to a brick wall. With a massively dwindling time limit and knowing how much worse this situation would get once Peridot realized Pumpkin died seeing her acting like this, he forced himself to push his own limits.

And really, he knew he wouldn’t really hurt Peridot with a superkick, anyway. Steven was definitely aware Peridot would be infinitely more hurt that he did it to her than the act itself. Unfortunately, Steven should have acted a little sooner, because Peridot barely got a couple of words out to Pumpkin once she was finally brought down to reality before the latter died.

On the bright side, even before Pumpkin was miraculously brought back to life, Peridot didn’t hold this against Steven in the least, and acknowledged both to him and to Lapis that she fully deserved a superkick to the head and losing her chance to say goodbye to Pumpkin for how she conducted herself.

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Luckily, it works out all nicely not just for Pumpkin’s life and Peridot/Steven maintaining their relationship by the end of GA, but the whole fusion thing for Peridot gets ironed out as well. I was a massive asshole ending the story on the confirmation of Peridot and Steven being able to fuse (no name or even a visual; the final line is literally the fusion acknowledging that they pulled it off this time), but come onnnn. I already made three original fusions as well as full-Diamond forms for Steven and Peridot, the former of which I’ve yet to properly design!

Right before they try doing this, Peridot agrees with Steven that they don’t seem like the type who’d fuse to a proper kind of dance. Instead, it’d be more like certain wrestler entrances. “Sheasaro” is mentioned, which isn’t an official term at all in WWE, but it’s what a lot of people called the tag team of Sheamus and Cesaro before they were collectively called The Bar. Anyway, I fucking love that entrance. Needless to say I’ve envisioned plenty of characters and how they’d come out to certain entrance songs and routines.

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Peridot makes it no secret that “clod” is her word, and that still rings true in GA. However, in GA exclusively there’s a close runner-up: stupid idiot.

A redundant term made awesome by Chris Jericho’s 2016-2017 persona. It just felt like a very Peridot thing to say, and with this I never had to worry about over-using the clod term.

It never happened in-story, but if GA Peridot was ever to be called out using this by pointing out its redundancy, she’d definitely insist that the term is for emphasis. That this is how to determine how much of an idiot you truly are. Because to Peridot the Genius, everyone is either stupid or an idiot. But only a few select clods can be considered both.

I feel like there’s more references than this, but these are the only ones that stand out right now. I’ll add a part 2 if I find something significant that I missed the next time I read through the fic.

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primrose-path-of-dalliance · 6 years

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Lotor’s end (?) in s6

toc 1: i shake out some salt and talk about the altean colony | 2: i question why people keep insisting lotor was "evil all along" | 3: i talk about my favorite parts of lotor’s breakdown

lotor, altea, and king alfor

when lotor chooses to lash out and start destroying everything, he says: "what about your father? he may have been a master engineer, but alfor was too weak to defend his homeworld. i'm the one who had to step up and save our entire race. who are you to question my tactics in bringing peace and prosperity to the universe?"

the knee-jerk reaction is to be furious at lotor for this statement, and what he says is unfair. it's not as if alfor simply gave up, lay down, and offered his people to the pyre. perhaps he made a mistake in sending voltron away (as his ai freely admits to allura), but although we don't get a lot of information on what happened after zarkon's resurrection, we know that he tried to defend his people. that he ultimately lost isn't a fact that's fair to reflect onto his moral character. additionally, lotor is singing his own praises even after we've discovered that he's far from hot shit, and naturally it's unappealing.

but as a character, lotor possesses an extremely unique perspective. he is the only major sympathetic character in the show to have lived through all of the 10,000 years of post-resurrection zarkon's reign. and he is among the small group of characters who have been aligned against the empire for a significant amount of time since before allura and coran reawoke; potentially, he has spent the longest actively on the galra empire's shit list.

i said that allura's viewpoint in the show is limited for a very good reason. even the person who is our primary protagonist, who is extraordinarily sympathetic and compassionate, whose heart breaks regularly for the people who suffer under the oppression of this empire and who has suffered tremendously herself while determined to devote the rest of her life to this cause, can be a bit clueless when she's a teenager and only woke up about a year ago into a universe entirely different from the one she once knew.

most of allura's life was spent in a stable and loving home on an idyllic planet as crown royalty, with all the resources and wealth that lifestyle offered to her. she was raised for both diplomacy and warfare but had little time to become familiar with them, particularly the latter, when compared to the work of centuries or millennia under the rule of an extremely powerful and oppressive empire. and the perspective from which she learned her trades was as the heir of a powerful kingdom and expansive legacy, not as a freedom fighter. most significantly, she had astounding resources even after waking up into an empire that wanted her dead—the castle of lions, an extremely mobile self-powered warship with apparently no concern to be had for things like food supplies or relative comfort; and voltron, quite literally the most powerful weapon in the universe with limits unknown and a sentient being in its own right. additionally, the return of the black lion distracted zarkon. he was obsessed with reclaiming it above all else, to the point where haggar criticized his illogical behavior right to his face. voltron's return weakened zarkon's ability to strategize intelligently. in terms of practical position against the galra empire, allura, coran, and the paladins possessed the strongest one from the very beginning. and they have only gotten stronger.

this doesn't place allura in an easy position to empathize with the other forces who have fought against the empire, and considering the usual level of empathy or thoughtfulness one can already expect from a teenager, it shouldn't be a shock that allura's perspective may not be the most understanding.

when she condemns lotor for his treatment of the altean colony, as rightfully as she may be doing so, she does so without any understanding of where lotor is coming from. she literally cannot comprehend the type of situation someone like lotor must have been in to drive him to do something so horrific, nor that someone who's not Evil could still commit such crimes. this is tied into one of the biggest reasons lotor loses his temper and says what he does.

what i'm saying isn't without precedence in this show. @howtofightwrite has talked about the usual experience of a resistance (link). (please feel encouraged to read the whole post, especially for context. they do a great job being a resource for writers about a wide variety of topics, and if you're not already acquainted, i totally recommend following them.)

since it's a very long post, i'll quote the most relevant parts:

"When you’re writing a story about a resistance, never forget that they are in a hostile environment where everything is a danger to them, and you should approach every engagement violent or not as a cost comparison. ....

When you’re working with a resistance fighter, the resistance part is more important than the fighter part. These are not people with a very large margin for error, and who need to be incredibly good at threat assessment in regard to their greater goals. The greater goal is what’s most important to them, their priority, their mission, they have limited resources and that means they have to make compromises. For the resistance fighter, violence itself draws attention. Attention is bad.

Think about this, if he does manage to fight these two and kill them then whatever kills he makes will be taken out on the civilian population. If he doesn’t kill them, and they remember his face then he’s done as a resistance fighter. Again, attention is bad. Attention brings notoriety. In a hostile state, the consequences are many and they hit the innocent population hardest.

My point is this: your character is not making decisions on what he can do or can’t do, not in what’s morally right or wrong, if he wants to survive in a resistance then he’s making decisions based on risk. ....

Resistance fighters are the ones who run when their friends get captured, the ones who stand by and do nothing if they’re not at risk of being outed. They wait. They strike later, though usually not to recover their friends. Well, the smart ones do. The stupid ones try. They either get gunned down or captured because hot blood and hot heads get murdered in the streets by the gestapo. There are always more of them than there are you in a resistance, and violence attracts attention. The wrong kind of attention in the wrong place means death or capture, prison, interrogation, torture, and then the firing squad. The consequences for failure are high, not just for the single resistance fighter but for everyone they know, everyone they love, and for the very movement they’re fighting for. ....

For every piece your character and his friends take, the enemy will take five of theirs. He is in a rigged game where his own lack of resources will crush him unless the resistance can convince the populace at large to rise up. That is how a resistance actually wins in the real world, you know. If they can’t get the citizens behind them or receive aid from an outside power or train up an army on foreign soil, they’re doomed."

when the blade of marmora are first introduced, they fill precisely this type of role in the show. they are the resistance, the small guy fighting against an empire that has conquered and controls most of the known universe, who has decided to focus on spywork as the primary goal they can accomplish. and allura dislikes them instantly—not only because they're galra, but because she considers them disappointments for having not already taken down the empire themselves. she criticizes what she sees as passivity, as fear to engage with the enemy. she fails to realize that the blade of marmora lacked the firepower of voltron or the resources to commit to a war with the empire.

as the blade of marmora emphasized in their introduction, they survived through their secrecy. if things went wrong, if they took too many risks in trying to liberate other people, their existence would be discovered. and then the empire, a force with effectively infinite resources and no small amount of cruelty, would have their guard up. all of their spies would suddenly be in great danger. any future operations would become exponentially more difficult. depending on the risk that fell through, it wouldn't be difficult at all for the empire to decimate their numbers, or worse, decimate whatever civilian populations they might have been trying to protect or train for war. the blade of marmora simply wouldn't have the ability to fight back.

allura deserves no guilt for condemning lotor, of course. he abused the very people he was supposed to be protecting. he may have found some comfort for himself by treating it as a conservation issue, but he nevertheless ruined the lives of thousands of already oppressed people. regardless of motive, that is never going to be something that sits well with the type of good our protagonists are, and rightfully so. it's the reason we love them so much.

but it's frustrating to see people reduce antagonists like lotor to "Pure Bad Evil all along" because it's completely dismissive of the work the show writers have put into him as a character with a story entirely different from either zarkon's cardboard cutout villainy or allura's honest but youthful idealism. and to what purpose? making sure we all know genocide is bad? surely we don't have to perform hatred or oversimplification of a fictional character just to make sure everyone knows our disdain for mass exploitation. and surely we're capable of understanding that exploring the reasons why someone would do such a thing doesn't mean we agree with them or are excusing their actions.

i stated that the ultimate incompatibility of allura's perspective with lotor's is tied into lotor's break. not the sole cause. that's because it, when expressed in such a raw attack on lotor's character, was only the trigger for the release of a massive amount of resentment that lotor has been harboring inside him. when lotor breaks, it isn't because he can't tolerate the idea of a woman rejecting him. it's because he's been bitter toward everything for a very, very long time, and his break is that moment when he decides to stop holding it in or rationalizing it away.

for 10,000 years, he has endured abuse from the people who ought to have loved him the most. he's been disconnected from each side of his heritage: the galra, because he's half-altean and a disgustingly moral half-breed exile; and the alteans, because he's half-galra and they, at the hands of the empire and to an extent lotor himself, have experienced genocide and abuse until they were scattered and isolated, a mere shadow of what they once were. his friends are few and far between, because trust is difficult when his father will murder everyone around him just because he hears from someone nearby that lotor's having a decent time being deviant, and when the woman at his father's right hand (who he now knows is his mother, one of the sole figures in his life he imagined to be good because he thought she was already dead) will send spies his way through any avenue possible, including benevolent ones (he's not even a little shocked to accept narti's supposed betrayal, or to find himself taken to haggar's feet at galra central command after kuron's mind-control switch is flipped). sendak, the man implied to have been more raised as a son by zarkon than zarkon's own actual son, threatens to make lotor his personal slave, and lotor barely bats an eye because this inherent violence toward his existence is something completely normal to him. his style of fighting and strategy is entirely angled as someone who's used to being the small guy—he's agile, and clever, and quick, and prefers to either manipulate his way out or outfox his enemy because he rarely has the strength to challenge or threaten people head-on; even sincline's strength is in outmaneuvering its opponent. as an infant, we see lotor in the darkness crying alone in his crib with no one to tend to him.

consistently, lotor has been characterized as a target of abuse, with all the baggage that it comes with.

the resentment here is in knowing how easily it could have been better. how happy he might have been. if he had known king alfor as a parental figure instead ("i envy you, growing up with king alfor"). if he had grown up in altea with honerva instead of in the galra empire with zarkon. if king alfor had not failed in his duty to his people, to the universe 10,000 years ago, and simply killed zarkon when he had the chance.

allura, as much as he respects her as an individual, is also a representation of what he wishes he could have had: a loving family, a happy life, proper training as an altean alchemist, security in a group of close friends she can trust and interact with comfortably. she trusts the universe in a way he can't even comprehend of doing. moreover, allura got to sleep relatively peacefully for those 10,000 years of zarkon's tyrannical rule, undisturbed and undiscovered on arus.

she never had to live those millennia under zarkon's oppressive rule. she never had the burden of a horrific legacy. she never had to figure out who she was all by herself, uninternalize every ounce of racism and abuse and discover what it meant to be a person of value by chasing after crumbling ruins. instead, he had to save the last alteans left after zarkon's genocide. he had to figure out a way to topple the empire. he had to find himself trapped in every corner with the choice to either die or sacrifice whatever morality he had to live another day, to take a single step closer to killing his own father.

and now allura has the gall to condemn him, when he didn’t have a superweapon like voltron. he didn’t have a massive castleship, a wormhole generator, or the gifts of a sacred altean. he was working with the best he had. does she think he wanted to use the alteans as a quintessence farm? does she think he wanted to be zarkon's son? all he wanted was peace. maybe if her father had just won, none of them would've had to be there. none of this would have happened. but instead she has the gall to hate him for trying to clean up her father's 10,000 year old mistake.

well, fine. he'll just do a better job restoring the alteans to power and bringing peace to the universe than any of them ever could.

in lotor's relationship with allura and king alfor, there is as much jealousy and resentment as there is love and admiration. and he understood how much of it was unfair, or else we would have seen it leak into his behavior before now no matter how good of an actor he was, if only so we the audience might characterize him properly as a dick. (hopefully i don't have to clarify that it didn't.)

but at this point, everything has been going wrong, allura is on the other side of the battlefield, and quintessence exposure is insidiously wreaking havoc on his ability to process what's happening in a healthy manner. all he can think about is how bitter and tired he is of this. and so he breaks.

of course it was wrong. he was literally attempting to kill the team by the end. none of this excuses the choices he made or the things he said, and he has to be held accountable for all of it. but more than anything, lotor is an example of how a person as human (for lack of a better word) as anyone else can be incredibly hurtful, how his end of self-destruction is brought about by the very authentic experience of wanting the happiness that has been continually taken away from him, and how this self-destruction is implicitly tied into his isolation.

the importance of a support system

this is probably one of the defining themes of vld. although it sometimes doesn't deliver on the paladins as a family unit, we get numerous arcs throughout the show about one character helping to emotionally support another through something difficult, and it's emphasized several times that every person in the team is deeply concerned with the individual wellbeing of their other team members/friends. as a show about a bunch of somewhat-strangers having to come together and form a giant robot mech in order to literally save the universe through the power of teamwork and cooperation, this isn't really surprising.

so let's look at lotor. he's incapable of having a positive connection with either side of his heritage as a whole—the galra have abused him and most of the known universe, the alteans either never recognize him as one of their own unless he tells them or end up victims of his own vampiric needs. the only person from his history he can draw strength and purpose from is honerva, his long-dead mother—and then he discovers that she survived quite well to become one of his greatest demons. his relationship with his generals is fairly good, but their dynamic is always more professional than casual—and then he kills narti and later claims he will kill any and all galra that stand against him. he and the paladins tentatively befriend each other, he and allura fall in love with each other—and then it's revealed that he hid very dirtied hands from them in the process. all of them abandon or turn against him. and by the end, he pilots sincline alone, in sharp contrast to the recently-reunited team of five in voltron.

repeatedly, we see lotor as a desperate seeker for connection who inevitably sabotages himself through his own actions, driving away every one of his friends and associates. this final collapse of his already-fragile support system is what leads directly to his self-destruction.

officially, lotor's been described as a secret azula the writers were trying to trick us into believing was a zuko. it's a fair description, but not in the sense that he was an evil villain, and that misconception ought to be cleared away. anyone who's watched avatar: the last airbender understands that azula, as dramatic and stunning a villain as she was, was far less someone to hate for her deeds than she was someone to pity—she was a tragedy who never got to grow away from the abuse of her father the way zuko did, and who brought about her own self-destruction through her toxicity and subsequent isolation.

the parallels are very obvious, and i suspect the reduction in similar reception when it comes to lotor is because 1. it's a lot easier to sympathize with a teenage girl who already had characters in-story to sympathize with her and fill in her background of abuse, and 2. fandom culture now is different and much less forgiving to its villains.

in many ways, lotor had the chances azula never got. like zuko, lotor was exiled in disgrace and spent a significant amount of time away from home; like zuko, lotor got the chance to uninternalize his abuse; like zuko, lotor demonstrated qualities from the beginning that made him more similar to the protagonists than the villains. the one thing lotor never got, however, was an uncle iroh: someone with the maturity, energy, and willingness to stay by his side through his unhealthy behavior, support him by promoting healthy behavior, and give him the unwavering love and forgiveness and faith that he was never able to receive from anyone else.

instead, lotor more or less had to figure it out on his own, which is challenging enough without adding isolation and high amounts of stress into the mix. by the end of s6, lotor was probably unconsciously seeking out a similar kind of relationship through allura, but the problem is in how demanding that type of support is. no one is really obligated to expend that amount of effort on anyone, no matter how positive of a result it might create. uncle iroh sacrificed a lot to give zuko the encouragement he needed to find a healthier state of mind, even suffering through his multiple missteps off the path that hurt iroh and everyone else around him, and zuko understood this by the time they reunited in the campgrounds of the order of the lotus.

team voltron, on the other hand, would never have been able to give lotor that kind of support for a myriad of reasons, youth and conflicting priorities and unfamiliarity with lotor among them, much less should have. many of the circumstances were also different—much more difficult with a 10,000-year-old character whose missteps include the abuse of a colony of already oppressed people, after all.

lm and jds have also drawn a similar comparison between lotor and keith (link). they share similar backgrounds—complicated family situation, absent mother, interpersonal issues borne from a history of isolation—but unlike lotor, keith found someone to guide him away from a downward spiral: shiro. ("i will never give up on you.") this difference between the two of them is explicitly acknowledged as what saved keith from self-destruction.

lotor was not an irredeemable character by far, and for some of us who were excited by the potential we saw, the end of s6 was disappointing. but within the context of the show and the progression of the plot, lotor's self-destruction was the logical path for him to go. it probably isn't the ultimate end of lotor; he didn't die, after all. but all things considered, i feel that lotor was ultimately treated with respect, and his arc added things to the story we never would've gotten otherwise.

(if we want a happy story, well, that's what we can write fanfiction for, right?)

#voltron #voltron meta #vld s6 #lotor #allura #readmore #long post #prim post #prim says some things

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ringo-ichigo · 6 years

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An Essay Concerning Grammar for the Aspiring Writer

I’ve seen an attitude spreading in the writing community lately. It is degrading on many levels to the writing industry as a whole and particularly to editors. This attitude is the belief that you don’t need to have good grammar to write. It is patently false and I will explain why now.

Firstly, we must examine what writing is meant to do. Writing of any type is a means of communication. We use it to express ideas on the page. Now what does grammar have to do with this? Grammar is the rules of the road so to speak. It is the foundation upon which you build. So shoddy grammar makes for poor communication. Poor grammar can cause your point to become muddled.

Take antecedents. If you say, “Sally hit Jen, and she regretted it,” your reader will become confused. The antecedent for “she” in this case is Jen. However, it doesn’t make sense why Jen would regret being hit. It makes far more sense for Sally to regret the strike, yet what you have written does not communicate that. This is just one example. There are many others such as tense changes making the timing unclear or incorrect forms of words causing issues. These all weaken your writing as you no longer are able to convey your message without confusion. No one wants to be confused and have to reread your writing in order to comprehend it.

Now, I can hear some protesting “But this author says you don’t have to be perfect at grammar to be a writer!” To which I will say, yes, he’s correct in a way. You can break the rules and still be a good writer. Shocking, I know. The issue is that you must know the rules first in order to break them. What do I mean? Simple. In order to use this writing technique, it must be done with a purpose like I just did above with the fragment. I did it to emphasize the word and to be an example. I had a purpose to it. But if you do not understand the rules in the first place, you have no hope of choosing the proper time to break them. Instead of enhancing your writing, poor grammar will weaken your writing as it will come across as ignorance or laziness instead of competence. Not to mention, it will draw the attention to the errors instead of to your skill with the pen. Remember, the nail that sticks out is the one that is beaten down first.

Specifically, run-ons will always weaken your writing, never strengthen it. The problem with run-ons and comma splices is they can always be broken into smaller, stronger sentences. When you break them, they also become easier to read and more impactful to read. No longer does the reader start questioning where the end of this sentence is. He can focus on what is happening instead of the glaring mistake.

Now let’s talk about why you need to fix it now while you’re still newer and earlier in the story rather than later. I share this from personal experience: it is easier to do it now than wait. If you wait, you will only create more work for yourself. Run-ons and comma splices require you to rework sentence structures entirely, forcing you to rewrite entire sections to fix one error sometimes. If you’re particularly egregious on these types of cascading errors, this could entail completely scrapping your work and starting over anew. I’m sure you’re already going, “But… I do this all the time. I’ve written six chapters and they’re all ten pages apiece. That’s sixty pages to rewrite!” Yes, you are correct. It’s a daunting task sometimes to admit that you must scrap everything and start fresh. But it is better and easier to fix these bad habits now when there is less on the page than to plough ahead and create an even larger amount of work.

Stopping and fixing errors now is better not only for the amount of work, but also because you will start to recognize patterns. You may find that you split infinitives constantly or always forget to place commas after certain dependent clauses. This will allow you to course correct early on and keep an eye out in the future for this. This way, when you go through a day’s writing to proofread for major errors, you can also look for these repetitive pitfalls and fix them. Not only that, but if you keep these in mind as you write, you will catch yourself before you commit them and eventually you may even find you have broken the habit. You’ve created less proofreading for yourself, improved your ability to communicate, and saved yourself time all at once. All because you took the time to consider good grammar.

It is time now to shift away from writing as communication, and focus on it more as an industry. Many want to write. Many try to enter this industry; many fail. Writing is a competitive industry. In a way, you are in an arms race of talent. Who can improve their talent and make it stand out the best? Thousands submit their works yearly to publishing companies and yet out of these thousands only a dozen or less actually manage to get published. Why? Simply put, writing is about outshining others and gambling chances. The only way to be noticed is to show the company you are worth investing time and effort into your work. This means you must show promise as a writer.

However, as I showed earlier, poor grammar can get in the way of your talent and communication abilities. You have hamstringed yourself before the race even began. When others have worked hard and put their best forward, you’ve left your glaring grammatical errors in your piece. Yours is difficult to read due to its errors, while the others have polished their pieces to near perfection. Would you rather read something hard to comprehend or something easy to comprehend? I prefer the latter, and most companies will as well. Minor and occasional issues are fine. But every other sentence being a run-on or comma splice? These are unacceptable.

This isn’t the only issue though. If you’re submitting to a publisher, the companies are run by professionals. Poor grammar is not only crippling your writing. It’s actively spitting in the face of a publisher when they see it. Grammatical errors come across as unprofessional. It conveys laziness as it seems you didn’t even try to polish this manuscript or take a second look at it before submitting. Bad grammar can indicate that you either have a lack of beta readers or at best, that you ignore their advice. Considering proper grammar is taught in schools, it also comes across as you being unwilling to learn and grow. Both of these mean that you cannot stomach critique, and thus any advice they might have to make you publishing quality is wasted. If you are too lazy to take it, it does them no good. If you are too stubborn to admit flaws, it does them no good. Why should they bother working with you if you can’t do the basics required of the job? Into the trash with your manuscript.

You don’t get an editor from a company when you submit your piece. You get an editor once the company has decided you are worth the gamble required to sell your book. An editor is there to help you take the final steps to get to a professional quality of manuscript. The company has to sink time and money into preparing your book for publishing. There’s no guarantee it’ll get the money back either. Books flop frequently, and the publisher can only have so many flops before they shut down. Sending in an error-ridden manuscript is like showing up to an interview to be a lawyer’s intern in a bikini and flip flops. You have come to the company poorly prepared and unprofessionally attired. Why should they bother with you? On an aside: you can hire an agent who will do the hard work of shopping for a publisher for you. Unfortunately, they too check your manuscript for grammar issues and may refuse the job if your piece is need of serious grammatical revision.

Not to mention, this attitude of “My future editor will fix it” is disrespectful to editors. They have better things to do than attempt to fix your grammar. Their job description is not “teach poor writers grammar.” That is your English teacher’s job and no one else’s. Your editor will likely have several other projects they’re working on in addition to yours. If they have to spend all their time correcting your grammar because you didn’t bother to put in the extra effort to correct it personally, you are wasting your editor’s time and effort. Your beta can at times fill in the role of grammar teacher, but it should not be his primary role to go through your works and point out your egregious number of run-ons. Finally, it is not your critics’ jobs to teach you how to fix your errors. It is one person’s job to learn how to fix your grammatical errors: yours.

Not to mention an editor won’t coddle your feelings. They will critique you, and it won’t be gentle. You will be expected to take their critiques as a professional and not throw a fit or defend your choice. If you are showing an inability to accept a random stranger’s critique without losing your cool now, how can you think “Oh, I’ll be able to handle it then.” You have none of the tools, none of the experience, none of the grace to handle it any better then because you have refused to develop them now. The time to build up that ability is now when you’re still learning to write, not later down the road. Stop procrastinating and start learning to turn off your insta-rage and listen.

Critique comes whether you are ready or not. If you are posting something to the public for them to read—even a first draft, you are saying to anyone who reads it, “This is what I consider acceptable for public consumption.” This is what you’ve set as your standard of what is your best work to the public’s eye. If that work contains swaths of grammatical errors, the public will comment eventually. It may take time, but someone with a critical eye will find your piece. They will likely comment, and if your grammar is so atrocious that it took labor to understand your writing, they will be nasty about it. They won’t care about your feelings because you have wasted their time and effort and given them nothing for it but a migraine. At that point, it won’t matter how good or bad your story idea is. It will not be able to outshine the errors hanging over it like a fog. Bad grammar will overpower your talent every single time.

With the internet, it connects you not only to possible reviewers but also to agents and editors. They can and will look into your past if you get past initial rejection. Agents will look into your websites. They will find your temper tantrum over those poor critiques. Those will color their opinion on your work because they’ve now seen what you will be like on this project. No one wants to have to fight at work. No one wants to bring that amount of stress into his life. Agents and editors will see your poor behavior and go, “That writer isn’t ready for this emotionally yet.” You will be rejected, and if you’re lucky, they might tell you why.

Lastly, I wish to impart this knowledge to you: loving writing is not enough. It isn’t. You can love writing all you want, but if you cannot listen to criticism and grow from it, you will never improve. You will always be suffocating in the valley instead of joining those on the mountaintop. Those people are the ones who took the time and spent the effort to better their writing through grammar and feedback. You will always be looking up to them and wondering how they are so good and why you’ve plateaued. As someone who has been writing since she was eleven, I can tell you that I’ve had people critique my writing. I didn’t whine about poor reviews either. I understood, even at that age, that I had to listen. I posted my works knowing they might get bad reviews and knew that I would have to grow a thick skin and sift through the ones of “u suk” and “wow that was bad” to find the “Your writing lacks description” types. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t saying how to improve precisely. A critique doesn’t need to say “if you change x, then it will fix y.” A critique can be as simple as “You have an issue with run-ons.” Why? It pointed out the flaw. You can now locate the issue and fix it. Nor is it the critic’s job to teach you grammar. As I pointed out though, if your grammar is unreadable, expect that critique to be harsh enough to remove paint. You offered what could’ve been a five star meal and gave them your half-chewed leftovers instead. And who wouldn’t be angry at that?

Sources/Further Reading

Sources about grammar in general:

http://ask.dailygrammar.com/Why-is-grammar-important.html

https://www.clearvoice.com/blog/yes-good-grammar-still-important-heres/

http://www.witslanguageschool.com/NewsRoom/ArticleView/tabid/180/ArticleId/279/Is-grammar-important.aspx

http://www.startribune.com/top-10-reasons-you-should-learn-to-use-proper-grammar/348141711/

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/william-b-bradshaw/why-grammar-is-important_b_4128521.html

Sources about the writing industry:

https://blog.reedsy.com/perfect-submission-tips-from-a-publisher/

https://thinkwritten.com/6-tips-for-submitting-your-manuscript/

http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents/pubtips

http://www.ian-irvine.com/on-writing/what-publishers-hate/

#no this won't go under a read more #y'all need to hear this #writing stuff #why your excuses for your poor grammar are bs #grammar geek

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thedropkickmessage · 4 years

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Fisticuffs

I’m writing this not for any one person, especially that insomuch every one person that knows me thinks me insane. I can merely speculate on their thoughts of me, but with an educated guess I would think that they would consider me a madman, a drunk, or a drug addict. I am an addict, insomuch that I am chasing something with every hour of day and night, this I want them to know; but moreover I want someone to understand, if at all possible.

The first fight I was involved in, when I categorize thoughts and memories, was at a get together involving my old church. My old family church. But before I describe that, this thing I chase showed it’s face during a small accident. Such a small thing that bloomed into this madness that I can’t stop chasing, half in fear and half in fearful splendor.

In seventh grade, we had lockers at school like most. My locker number was 1137, and next to mine was a girl named Hannah. One day either I or she was running late, to hard to remember now, and as whichever one of us were scrambling for our papers and books, as she closed her locker door, struck me in the cheek with all her force of slamming it. It was not her door that hit, but rather her knuckles. I suppose I exclaimed, and furthermore I suppose she apologized for such an event, But I didn’t hear myself or her at all. Instead of hearing, I was seeing. It was as if some burning, terrible liquid had gushed into my eyes, causing prisms of wild color, and quadrupling every image I could see. Only, I wasn’t seeing the hallway of the school, but glimpsing what I could only comprehend (or poorly fathom, rather) as a wild void of images that seemed like some red negative, where Hannah seemed to be a sort of creature with an impossibly deep voice, and my hand wasn’t on the locker or clutching my bag, but was no longer there at all. I shook my head, and my vision was back, and Hannah looked very apologetic. At the time I supposed that I had blacked out, sure that no minor blow could cause a concussion of any kind, water had probably just teared up in my eyes. I think cartoons present this feeling as seeing stars.

Unlike any comedy or romance, I did never marry Hannah or fall in love with her, in fact I have no idea what even came of her. What I do know is that a couple years later, one Easter after church, my pastor told me I should come to his house, because a fight was coming on. I had no love or appreciation for boxing at the time; I had never stopped to think about such. But seeing as that was a time in my life where I was searching for and finding and defining my masculinity as every young man does in time, I sought as every young man does in time, to surround myself with with men in whom it was already defined.

I do not remember the match on television much, and it’s contents are not important to this writing. What is important, is that during either a commercial, or an intermission or for whatever reason or another there was a moment where the idea of sparring was brought up. Now, I was not the only young man or person at this get together, if memory serves well, there were quite a few. Somewhere along the line, a couple pairs of boxing gloves that were bigger than regulation size were brought up from a downstairs area, and soon there came the laughing and ha-ha-ing of the “boys will be boys” nature.

In all the laughter and excitement, mixed with the overall ruggedness of a boxing match and such, I easily got caught up in it. Some of the boys were older, and in so bigger than me, and I think pastor Jerry could tell what I was thinking, so he put the gloves on and told me to put the other ones on. There was a bit of cheering, and so happily enough I did. I want to be clear, pastor Jerry never tried to sock me. He would bat my hands away as I tried to jab. He also did this thing where he just held out the glove, and I would throw hooks at it, or knock it away. I cannot recollection why, as we rarely can with such silly things, but as he held his hand straight out, I darted forward, and in doing so ran right in his outstretched fist.

What came next was more pure and ecstatic than any addict’s plunge of the needle, any nymphomaniac’s orgasm, any gambler’s win. I never kept up with anyone who was there that day, and pastor Jerry is long dead by now, so no one could say what they saw me do. But with such vigor, and sweet taste on tongue, I can tell you what I saw, the best that I can.

I was shown something. I don’t know what allowed me to see it, or who, or whatever. What was shown to me bends all sense of reality, it shatters what we know about life, and shrinks even the largest earthly problems into infinitely infinitesimal iotas.

I felt my spine, from the base of it up go cold, and in incredible ecstasy travel up into the base of my skull, into my brain. The world that we reside spilt, or ripped rather, and I saw inside it, the inner workings of it. Large, rubbery pegs turned and churned like clock works, and I realized that this place was just right behind our life, our existence. Realization dawned on me furthermore, that I had been shown this before, in a feeling that I simultaneously felt for the first time and had forgotten. Time seemed to have stopped completely in this swirl of moments and and images, thousands of prisms danced dances and twirls all around. I reached for anything remotely familiar, and saw what looked like a bookshelf with several books upon it. As I reached for them, even they came forward as a wall, and I realized what was behind everything all over again. I saw faces, dozens or more that didn’t look like faces, perhaps faces wrapped in rubber or some bright silica, nodding approval at my presence, seeming to welcome me into this new knowing. These faces, attached to tubes, wobbled left and right as they walked, like Russian Matryoshka dolls. I had time to understand that these beings were the keepers of this where, when I began to see images that weren’t prismatic, images that weren’t new, but images I already knew. I blinked, and in so doing cried, asking, begging to stay, while I heard cluttered noises, voices from the outside, and a strong, warbling from from inside here say “Not your time. You shall know in time. We are time. We are time. We are…” and suddenly, the only voice I remember hearing was pastor Jerry’s, telling his wife Lucina to fetch a glass of water.

For weeks after this event I strained my mind in every way possible to remember what I saw and felt, through meditation mostly but also trying lucid dreaming. However, as more and more time went by, I began to forget what I was striving for; instead of conjuring any vision or focusing on a feeling, it became more of trying to remember anything that happened at all, like a man who remembers that he had a dream while halfway through his day, and then eventually not at all. When anyone mentioned the get together at pastor Jerry’s, which was sparsely mentioned, my mind absorbed whatever was being said and that became the only memory as like scar tissue. A road being paved over a pothole in the mind and memory; forgotten.

In this I exercise my right to anonymity, fearing that anymore detail than necessary will put anyone at risk for ridicule. I doubt very much that with as little detail as I have given in this strange account that one could or even would try to seek out these events. Suffice it to say that I continued life in some poverty, focused almost solely on my education, and in turn spent two years at a somewhat podunk community college, where I graduated with honors in English education, and moved on to a better known university with considerable less honors, in a sordid kind. I myself am not too much a victim to a party sort of lifestyle, but was not impervious to its pleasures at all times. This aside, I managed to graduate a completely average student, but graduated nonetheless.

Even so, for a few years there was still a bit of a struggle to make ends meet. There were no immediate teaching positions waiting for me with open arms, and so I managed as a tutor for barely more than the minimum wage. I had no family responsibilities so to speak, but still lived on a paycheck-to-paycheck basis. After around four years I was offered a teaching position for eleventh grade, however in a different city. After learning that they would pay for me to move, I accepted the position. The school was located inner-city, where the success rate was low and the crime rate was high. Still, I thought there with some success for two years before my world was once again ripped at the seams and everything changed for good.

It is at this time, where I can explain, as best of my abilities, how things came to be. As before, I had no family responsibilities nor ambition, and still did not make too much money. So like any struggling person with little responsibility, I set a fair amount of my funds aside for alcohol. I have never been a drunk, in the sense of an alcoholic way; no, it’s relevance is that to pass time, I would frequently visit a bar that was located right outside of town, as so to cut down chances for any unfortunate run-ins with any student’s parents. Like any normal person, I tried my hand at getting laid, but there were times where I would go just to have a few drinks and listen to music, as a band would play a few times a week.

One day, instead of a band there was a solo show, a middle-aged man with an acoustic guitar. For one reason or another that I’m still not sure of there came some bad sound suddenly, the guitar stopped and there were raised voices. The man with the guitar was standing, chest raised at another man near a table. I barely had time to recognize any curses when there was the sound of glass smashing, men grunting and a woman yelling in that shrill, dumb way when she’s caused a problem that got out of hand. Others got up, and I realized with dull, growing amazement that there was a sort of brawl transpiring. When I saw the bartender jump over the counter, my stare broke and I started to help pull people apart, as I didn’t want the establishment to get into any trouble for selfish reasons. I managed to pull two couples apart, and while attempting to pull a man off of another, his elbow smashed into my nose. I had a chance to barely register the pain as I stumbled backwards, and reached back to brace my fall. Instead of hard floor though, there was a rush of wind blowing my hair forward with force and the gut-lurching feeling of rapid momentum. I wasn’t just falling backward, it was as if I had fallen of the face of the planet with weights attached to me. In my view, I saw the bar with its neon and bodies shuffling stretch grossly long, the white cinder floor stretched so that it was an infinitely-long stripe in both sides of my eyes. I moved with such maddening speed that the air was being sucked out of my lungs like a vacuum.

Just as I had time to think that my lungs would deflate and fold upon themselves, my mind implode and my vision go black, I suddenly and completely stopped moving, every molecule instantaneously halting. If anything moving with such speed on earth stopped as abruptly, it would surely be ripped to shreds or flattened. Instead, I simply floated without moving in blackness, and my inner-monologue was gone. I was unable to form any thoughts. As I stared forward like a movie-camera, there was a sudden burst of purple light, that pulsed upwards in a tube, and moved quickly through to the tips of hundreds of dozens of sprawling branches, and again, pulsed from base upward to branch tip hundreds of impossible miles high. With each climbing, sprawling pulse my spine pulsed also, in tandem with the tree. Suddenly, I was allowed one thought, that I should not be allowed to see this. With this, a warbly, wet, metallic voice spoke, “There was always room, for you are you, and we are we.” I understood this voice to be taking up the entirety of every space of every universe imaginable and on, and also in my heart and mind. I was not allowed any other thought, and only heard once more, “There was always…” and suddenly I was rushing forward, past the impossible neon tree, past everything that has ever been named and everything that has not, with such speed I was able to squeeze my eyes as my spine and mind threatened to explode, I lurched forward with someone holding my hand. It was the bartender, pulling me up, thanking me. Some overhead music was playing and there were considerably fewer people inside.

I know that my words cannot explain or paint even a fraction of what I mean to tell. At best, you can only barely imagine through my details of these encounters. What I can express better, I think, is the importance I understood this to be. Because after this last encounter, I remember the feeling I had forgotten, this underlying knowing that I had been shown something like this before, that something had chosen me, from an entire universe of life, only because I am I. I simultaneously understood the insignificance of our day-in lives and strifes, and the purpose of my entire existence and the importance of it. I can only speculate why I was able to remember, perhaps it was my age, I cannot be sure, I only knew that I had a separate revelation: every time these Others had shown me the gift of their existence, it was due to being hit or struck in some way. With this, I moved ever closer to where I now am. Where I’ve met with you.

I did not go back to work. I knew now my destiny, and knew that children will always be taught, in one way or another by someone or, maybe even each other. I had no fear of lack of funds, simply because I knew that where I needed to go, where I had been invited, there was no need of such. First, however, there were a few mistakes made.

I know my tone will sound different here, but I’ve been writing this for some time now, and I’m desperate. After I realized that it seemed to me to be blunt force that allows me to visit, I tried many things. Do you know how hard it is to get someone to hit you? Sure, at first I tried to hit myself, but it doesn’t seem to work. Over and over I would smash my fist into my face and nothing! Then, as I sat to write part of this, I slammed my face into the table, two times. It didn’t work, it must be something to do with energy from another person, it’s all I can think of. I would go to bars and try to pick fights, but people just look at you strangely when you beg for someone to hit you, they look at you like you’re some writhing, pitiful drunk. I tried to join a karate class and a boxing class, and both take money to join and I’ve tried to tell them that I won’t need money there, not once I get there, and they just shoo me off, laughing or thinking of me mad. And so I’ve walked these streets now, and did you know that there are a sort who pay for the homeless to fight, nearly to the death? Bum fights they call them, and they’ve let me fall into the presence of the ones, oh I’ve seen things that I’m trying to tell people, because it isn’t just beside this existence, no, it’s behind it, right behind it, just maddeningly out of reach, and I’m afraid that if I do not get there soon, to that where where I am destined to go, that they will no longer let me in, that my window is closing so soon and suddenly, and maybe if pastor Jerry were still around he would hit me, but he’s been dead for years and so now I go around hitting people, just so that they will hopefully hit me back and I killed one homeless because he would not hit me hard enough so that I could go back permanently. It was his fault that he wouldn’t hit me hard enough, if he would have only not stopped then he would still be alive. I feel them calling me, beckoning me and no one else can hear it, and so I’ve written this so that you know that there is something else here, and yet I know you can’t understand.

The only place that I can think of that I know the beatings will continue is a jail, a prison. That’s where I will take my leave, and feel the pulse of the life-tree, and see the Other Ones and know of my true fate, and They won’t care whatever crime I commit tonight because it is They who beckoned me, and like the students I left behind, the ones in this world, the world that you live in will care only about yourselves and take care of yourselves one way or another, while I will finally go home.

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hotelbones · 5 years

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Two Deconstructions and a Process

It’s been about a year and some time since I was introduced to the design process and started making work under its name. However, as time goes on I am beginning to understand that I have my own process. While words like “domain”, “prototype”, “user testing” could all be somehow applied to my process, it wouldn’t necessarily fit.

From the moment I started making forms in the design process this was true, because doing any one thing in life doesn’t just isolate itself from the other parts. So I have started to document what my creative process could be theorized as and honestly its a lot of deep, personal language that probably seems a bit like esoteric bullshit to someone on the outside. But its my process, and the esoteric-ness is there because I think cool metaphors and theory make for unique expression. I will write a bit below the image to describe what each of these steps are. I don’t consider myself a designer, rather as a creative theorist, so my process isn’t something that should be applied to anyone else, or be critically compared to something like a design process.

Atomic Existence

“Maxwell’s conclusion* was that the distribution of speeds of the molecules was described by the normal law, brought into scientific considerations by Gauss. That is, the macroscopic behavior of a gaseous mass (as exhibited, for example, by its temperature) was to be described by the average of the speeds of the individual molecules. The phenomenon of temperature as an effect, measured, for example, by the expansion of mercury in a thermometer, was therefore attributable not to a cause, but to a very large number of independent causes, the magnitudes of which were due to chance. Thus a change in the amount of heat energy in a body means a change in an average of many independent events.” - George Brecht - “Chance-Imagery”

Many processes documented and theorized seemingly materialize ideas from the general or sometimes from seemingly nothingness. IDEO type processes normalize the standard of designers generating ideas from brainstorm processes, and having to empathize as a form of irregular labor. (Empathize, Define, Ideate, ETC). However, for my own process, all my ideas come from the ways of existing. My phenomenological experiences, the social systems I have engaged, navigated and witnessed, and the apprehension/feelings I have gained from the transductivity within varying social spaces all create what I compare to the molecules in a gas cloud. They collide and flow to create a multitude of different paths. And just like James Clerk-Maxwell’s theory of particle distribution (written above), all of them have a large variety of independent causes such as conflicts, contexts, feelings, histories, and people.

Invoked Contradiction

While there is a step in my process prior to this, “Invoked Contradiction” is the true step 1 of this process. “Atomic Existence” could be seen as a Step 0, one that always exists prior to the creative process.

Invoked Contradiction occurs when there is something that either doesn’t feel right or interests me between ideas from Atomic Existence. This is why in my diagram I show a magnifying glass pointing to certain parts of the previous step. I call this step the “Invoked Contradiction” because typically my ideas come from questioning ideological systems constantly. I don’t want to be understood here as a frustrating devil’s advocate, but I believe most of the world’s systems of understanding have come from perpetuating harmful foundations that should be torn down. That means I try to think about all the knowledge and understanding I have to see if there is anything that creates a contradiction. I also use the word contradiction here as conflicting ideas in reference to the game series Ace Attorney. Contradictions are usually something that appear between two people, but in this case the contradiction comes from two pieces of information that many people agree on that needs to be pressed further as this game utilizes the term.

It is at this time that I start focusing on a few points and attempt to make meaning from it.

Spectre of Meaning

Typically when making meaning from the invoked contradiction it isn’t immediately clear what action needs to be made that can be meaningful. I may see that there is something I want to address or intervene in, but with only the base spark of a concept I don’t think there is enough understanding to make something meaningful. In this way meaning haunts my process. I know that there is something important about the contradiction I have made, but I don’t know how to articulate, formulate, or understand meaning in it.

Because of this I go to research so that I can return to the spectre.

Research

Wow, there is a part of this process that has a normal name. Research can mean a lot of things for a lot of different people, but for me it is bringing all the “atoms” selected from step one and trying to connect them to one another. This means looking into research from all the areas and finding ways that each of them relate to one another. For me this typically involves critiquing other concepts/forms, watching anything between images to the world, deconstructing concepts/forms of relevance, reading (anything mostly, it all gives a new perspective on what I am doing), discussing ideas with others, and listening to people who are knowledgeable or thoughtful in the area of my concept.

As I continue to do each of these, I find more and more things from the separate “molecules” that connect to one each other. Eventually, the connections between each of them become so strong that there is an understanding of how something meaningful can be made.

Exorcism Attempt

It’s time to face the spectre. This time there is more of an understanding on how the molecules are connected, and how I can make a meaningful address to the contradiction. Exorcism can take form in a variety of ways, from protesting, to writing, to grafitti, to making a social media post. I can’t list out all the ways because it really isn’t limited to anything. The spectre came to exist because there was a conjectural concept that couldn’t be addressed, and now I am attempting to address it.

The first part of exorcism comes from creating an artifact. Artifacts have no form, they can be as little as words and as big as the Earth. They can be ephemeral or everlasting. Artifacts are simply forms that come from result. I call this the creation of an artifact because there is never a point where it doesn’t exist in the present fully. While it is being worked on, it is always being conceptualized and imagined for the future. Once it has been made, it is being determined how to comprehend, contextualize, document, publicize, share, and use.

Before and after the completion of the artifact, the attempt of exorcism is also being analyzed and processed. The exorcism is always a success. This does not mean that the molecules have been fully addressed, but it does mean that meaning has been addressed. This also confronts the idea of the varying design processes that say design is always in a looping process, never fully ending, infinitely prototyping. No, this spectre is gone after a single attempt of exorcism.

This does not mean that there won’t be work made in the same area, or that the same molecules won’t be addressed. But this specific spectre has been made clear and gone away. Maybe the process will happen again, maybe it won’t. It’s also good to remember when understanding this process that it isn’t universal, as nothing is. It may not be the process I use again afterwards. However, it is the process I am within right now.

Reaching Out

I actually missed the end of the lecture last class so I had no idea we had to do audience exercises until now (the night before we are supposed to blog). That’s on me though. However, I have been reaching out and talking to various people to help me better understand my project. This includes everyone in the list below:

Brianna Shuttleworth

Avery Alder

Allison K Cole

John Sharp

Colleen Macklin

Susan Tacent

Various members of the Moss Party Collective

Progress Report

Originally I created a deadline for a form to be produced by this coming Tuesday but this was a misconception for two reasons. The first being our blog posts have to be posted by noon on Mondays. So I don’t really have much of monday or tuesday to complete anything. The second being I had not done enough research to really create a meaningful exorcism of meaning. So I decided to alter my process in order to learn more about what I was interested in. Below are links to two WIP blog posts deconstructing projects that I find interesting and relevant to my work. These are not complete, and are on private for the time being. However, it takes a long time to deconstruct projects meaningfully. By the end of next week I hope to have four of these deconstruction blog posts completed.

Deconstructing New Games

https://hotelbones.tumblr.com/post/187744843647/deconstructing-new-games

Deconstructing Scores

https://hotelbones.tumblr.com/post/187744897972/deconstructing-scores

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lookdeep-insideyourself · 7 years

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Shams Tabrizi’s 40 Rules of Love How we see god is a direct reflection of how we see ourselves. If god brings to mind mostly fear & blame, it means there is too much fear & blame welled inside us. If we see god as full of love & compassion, so are we. The path to the truth is a labour of the heart, not of the head. Make your heart your primary guide! Not your mind. Meet challenge & ultimately prevail over your nafs (self, psyche, soul) with your heart. Knowing your ego will lead you to the knowledge of god. You can study god through everything & everyone in the universe, because god is not confined in a mosque, synagogue, or church. But if you are still in need of knowing where exactly his abode is, there is only one place to look for him: in the heart of a true lover. Intellect & love are made of different materials. Intellect ties people in knots & risks nothing, but love dissolves all tangles & risks everything. Intellect is always cautious & advises, “beware too much ecstasy”, whereas love says, “oh, never mind, take the plunge!” Intellect does not easily break down, whereas love can effortlessly reduce itself to rubble. But treasures are hidden among ruins. A broken heart hides treasures. Most problems of the world stem from linguistic mistakes & simple misunderstanding. Don’t ever take words at face value. When you step into the zone of love, language, as well know it becomes obsolete. That which cannot be put into words can only be grasped through silence. Loneliness & solitude are two different things. When you are lonely, it is easy to delude yourself into believing that you are on the right path. Solitude is better for us, as it means being alone without feeling lonely. But eventually it is best to find a person who will be your mirror. Remember only in another person’s heart can you truly see yourself & the presence of god within you. Whatever happens in your life, no matter how troubling things might seem, do not enter the neighbourhood of despair. Even when all doors remain closed, god will open up a new path only for you. Be thankful! It easy to be thankful when all is well. A sufi is thankful for what he has been given but also for all that has been denied. Patience does not mean to passively endure. It means to look at the end of a process. What does patience mean? It means to look at the thorn & see the rose, to look at the night & see the dawn. Impatience means to be short-sighted as to not be able to see the outcome. The lovers of god never run out of patience, for they know that time is needed for the crescent moon to become full. East, west, south, or north makes little difference. No matter what your destination, just be sure to make every journey a journey within. If you travel within, you’ll travel the whole wide world & beyond. The midwife knows that when there is no pain, the way for the baby cannot be opened & the mother cannot give birth. Likewise, for a new self to be born, hardship is necessary. Just as clay needs to go through intense heat to become strong, love can only be perfected in pain. The quest for love changes us. There is no seeker among those who search for love who has not matured on the way. The moment you start looking for love, you start to change within & without. There are more fake gurus & false teachers in this world than the number of stars in the visible universe. Don’t confuse power-driven, self-centred people with true mentors. A genuine spiritual master will not direct your attention to himself or herself & will not expect absolute obedience or utter admiration from you, but instead will help you to appreciate & admire your inner self. True mentors are as transparent as glass. They let the light of god pass through them. Try not to resist the changes which come your way. Instead let life live through you. And do not worry that your life is turning upside down. How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come? God is busy with the completion of your work, both outwardly & inwardly. He is fully occupied with you. Every human being is a work in progress that is slowly but inexorably moving toward perfection. We are each an unfinished work of art both waiting & striving to be completed. God deals with each of us separately because humanity is fine art of skilled penmanship where every single dot is equally important for the entire picture. It’s easy to love a perfect god, unblemished & infallible that he is. What is far more difficult is to love fellow human beings with all their imperfections & defects. Remember, one can only know what one is capable of loving. There is no wisdom without love. Unless we learn to love God’s creation, we can neither truly love nor truly know God. Real filth is the one inside. The rest simply washes off. There is only one type of dirt that cannot be cleansed with pure waters, & that is the stain of hatred & bigotry contaminating the soul. You can purify your body through abstinence & fasting, but only love will purify your heart. The whole universe is contained within a single human being - you. Everything that you see around you, including the things that you might not be fond of & even the people you despise or abhor, is present within you in varying degrees. Therefore, do not look for Sheitan outside yourself either. The devil is not an extraordinary force that attacks from without. It is an ordinary voice within. If you set to know yourself fully, facing with honesty & hardness. If you want to change the ways others treat you, you should first change the way you treat yourself. Unless you learn to love yourself, fully & sincerely, there is no way you can be loved. Once you achieve that stage, however, be thankful for every thorn that others might throw at you. It is a sign that you will soon be showered in roses. Fret not where the road will take you. Instead concentrate on the first step. That is the hardest part & that is what you are responsible for. Once you take that step let everything do what it naturally does & the rest will follow. Don’t go with the flow. Be the flow. We were all created in his image, & yet we were each created different & unique. No two people are alike. No hearts beat to the same rhythm. If god had wanted everyone to be the same, he would have made it so. Therefore, disrespecting differences & imposing your thoughts on others is an amount to disrespecting god’s holy scheme. When a true lover of God goes into a tavern, the tavern becomes his chamber of prayer, but when a winebibber goes into the same chamber, it becomes his tavern. In everything we do, it is our hearts that make the difference, not our outer appearance. Sufis do not judge other people on how they look or who they are. When a Sufi stares at someone, he keeps both eyes closed instead opens a third eye – the eye that sees the inner realm. Life is a temporary loan & this world is nothing but a sketchy imitation of reality. Only children would mistake a toy for the real thing. And yet human beings either become infatuated with the toy or disrespectfully break it & throw it aside. In this life stay away from all kinds of extremities, for they will destroy your inner balance. Sufis do not go to extremes. A Sufi always remains mild & moderate. The human being has a unique place among God’s creation. “I breathed into him of my spirit,” god says. Each & every one of us without exception is designed to be God’s delegate on earth. Ask yourself, just how often do you behave like a delegate, if you ever do so? Remember, it falls upon each of us to discover the divine spirit inside & live by it. Hell is in the here & now. So is heaven. Quit worrying about hell or dreaming about heaven, as they are both present inside this very moment. Every time we fall in love, we ascend to heaven. Every time we hate, envy, or fight someone we tumble straight into the fires of hell. Each & every reader comprehends the holy Qur’an on a different level of tandem with the depth of his understanding. There are four levels of insight. The first level is the outer meaning & it is the one that the majority of the people are content with. Next is the Batin – the inner level. Third, there is the inner of the inner. And the fourth level is so deep it cannot be put into words & is therefore bound to remain indescribable. The universe is one being. Everything & everyone is interconnected through an invisible web of stories. Whether we are aware of it or not, we are all in a silent conversation. Do no harm. Practice compassion. And do not gossip behind anyone’s back - not even a seemingly innocent remark! The words that come out of our mouths do not vanish but are perpetually stored in infinite space & they will come back to us in due time. One man’s pain will hurt us all. One man’s joy will make everyone smile. Whatever you speak, good or evil, will somehow come back to you. Therefore, if there is someone who harbours ill thoughts about you, saying similarly bad things about him will only make matters worse. You will be locked in a vicious circle of malevolent energy. Instead for forty days & nights say & think nice things about that person. Everything will be different at the end of 40 days, because you will be different inside. The past is an interpretation. The future is an illusion. The world does not move through time as if it were a straight line, proceeding from the past to the future. Instead time moves through & within us, in endless spirals. Eternity does not mean infinite time, but simply timelessness. If you want to experience eternal illumination, put the past & the future out of your mind & remain within the present moment. Destiny doesn’t mean that your life has been strictly predetermined. Therefore, to live everything to the fate & to not actively contribute to the music of the universe is a sign of sheer ignorance. The music of the universe is all pervading & it is composed on 40 different levels. Your destiny is the level where you play your tune. You might not change your instrument but how well to play is entirely in your hands. The true Sufi is such that even when he is unjustly accused, attacked, & condemned from all sides, he patiently endures, uttering not a single bad word about any of his critics. A Sufi never apportions blame. How can there be opponents or rivals or even “others” when there is no “self” in the first place? How can there be anyone to blame when there is only one? If you want to strengthen your faith, you will need to soften inside. For your faith to be rock solid, your heart needs to be as soft as a feather. Through an illness, accident, loss, or fright, one way or another, we are all faced with incidents that teach us how to become less selfish & judgemental, & more compassionate & generous. Yet some of us learn the lesson & manage to become milder, while some others end up becoming even harsher than before. Nothing should stand between you & god. No imams, priests, rabbis or any other custodians of moral or religious leadership. Not spiritual masters & not even your faith. Believe in your values & your rules, but never lord them over others. If you keep breaking other people’s hearts, whatever religious duty you perform is no good. Stay away from all sorts of idolatry, for they will blur your vision. Let god & only god be your guide. Learn the truth, my friend, but be careful not to make a fetish out of your truths. While everyone in this world strives to get somewhere & become someone, only to leave it all behind after death, you aim for the supreme stage of nothingness. Live this life as light & empty as the number zero. We are no different from a pot. It is not the decorations outside but the emptiness inside that holds us straight. Just like that, it is not what we aspire to achieve but the consciousness of nothingness that keeps us going. Submission does not mean being weak or passive. It leads to neither fatalism nor capitulation. Just the opposite. True power resides in submission to a power that comes within. Those who submit to the divine essence of life will live in unperturbed tranquillity & peace even the whole wide world goes through turbulence after turbulence. In this world, it is not similarities or regularities that take us a step forward, but blunt opposites. And all the opposites in the universe are present within each & every one of us. Therefore the believer needs to meet the unbeliever residing within. And the non-believer should get to know the silent faithful in him. Until the day one reaches the stage of Insan-I Kamil, the perfect human being, faith is a gradual process & one that necessitates its seeming opposite: disbelief. This world is erected upon the principle of reciprocity. Neither a drop of kindness nor a speck of evil will remain unreciprocated. For not the plots, deceptions, or tricks of other people. If somebody is setting a trap, remember, so is god. He is the biggest plotter. Not even a leaf stirs outside god’s knowledge. Simply & fully believe in that. Whatever god does, he does it beautifully. God is a meticulous clock maker. So precise is his order that everything on earth happens in its own time. Neither a minute late nor a minute early. And for everyone without exception, the clock works accurately. For each there is a time to love & a time to die. It is never too late to ask yourself, “Am I ready to change the life I am living? Am I ready to change within?” Even if a single day in your life is the same as the day before, it surely is a pity. At every moment & with each new breath, one should be renewed & renewed again. There is only one-way to be born into a new life: to die before death. While the part change, the whole always remains the same. For every thief who departs this world, a new one is born. And every decent person who passes away is replaced by a new one. In this way not only does nothing remain the same but also nothing ever really changes. For every Sufi who dies, another is born somewhere. A life without love is of no account. Don’t ask yourself what kind of love you should seek, spiritual or material, divine or mundane, Eastern or Western. Divisions only lead to more divisions. Love has no labels, no definitions. It is what it is, pure & simple. Love is the water of life. And a lover is a soul of fire! The universe turns differently when fire loves water.

#shams tabrizi

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melon-kid · 7 years

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some thoughts

So, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and it’s surprising to me that nobody ever seems to talk about it. And this is about the nature of argumentation itself, liberal vs conservative ‘ideologies’ in particular here.

I should first mention that the idea behind this reflection is to point out the fact that both sides are driven almost purely by emotion, not by data and hard facts like some people like to believe, and I’ll be talking about why exactly that is and why that’s so important to understand.

The key word in the discussion here is ‘empathy,’ because this is what the issue seems to boil down to - those who have more of it, versus those who have less of it. To break this down, let’s identify some big talking points on both sides.

On the left wing, protection and support for minorities is one of their big issues. On the right wing, we have major concerns about white people being thrown under the bus just because they’re white. Now on either side, their opponent would look totally blind to them and ignorant to the truth, but. . . how can that be? ‘The facts are right here!’ you say. ‘Why are you ignoring these obvious truths?’ So, let’s talk about empathy.

Why are minorities such a hot button issue on the left wing? In a majority of cases, people who support these issues either grew up facing heavy discrimination due to being a minority, intimately knew people who faced discrimination, or simply have the empathy to comprehend these issues.

But hold on! What does that have to do with people on the right wing? They can totally have empathy! And that’s true, that isn’t what’s being argued - however, their level of empathy typically does not extend as far as they think it does.

You see, the left and right wings both hold a sense of injustice when approaching these concerns, but what injustice looks like is completely different to either them. It’s not that a majority of conservative people are incapable of understanding the minority discrimination issue, they simply don’t care, they don’t see it as an issue because they don’t think it affects them and by extension, they don’t think it affects other people.

No matter how logical or sound you make your arguments, you will have a very hard time swaying your opposition - it’s not because they’re stupid, it’s because their arguments have a basis in emotion, not logic. That’s why people are stuck in an infinite loop of confirmation bias, looking only at the data that supports them and willfully dismissing everything else, because they just don’t care about that data.

Let’s take a step back and say you are someone who has little attachment to this heated political climate - someone with virtually no empathy. What’s stopping you from being objective and looking at both sides equally? Nothing! You don’t have emotional involvement in either side. But emotion is extremely blinding and that’s not something that people can easily see within themselves - people will only see what they want to see.

That’s why it is so difficult to sway someone with logic or evidence, because what you ACTUALLY have to do is appeal to their emotion. But because the foundation of their beliefs are so far removed from each other, these people will never see eye to eye - they are empathetic about different things and they see injustice in different things.

Take for example, a hypothetical situation in which you can either make a change that will benefit the livelihood of one population, or a change that will benefit merely the convenience of a separate population. Normally you’d choose the former, right? Now, let’s say we assume that ‘hypothetical situation’ in this scenario refers to the promotion of political correctness: Suddenly, opinions change.

Then, let’s put it this way - in light of this new development, the only reason why you would take the latter side is if you believed that the former has no credence to it. The only reason why you would take the latter side is if you don’t believe that supporting it would actually benefit the livelihood of people, therefore leaving you with the other choice to benefit your convenience.

When you look at the side of conservatives, they absolutely despise political correctness. Because they refuse to see things from the perspective of their opposition, it becomes easy to dismiss them as being ‘too sensitive’ or ‘offended about nothing.’

Another common argument is when people say ‘I’m a woman and I don’t think we need extra help! That’s belittling to all of us!’ or ‘I’m a black man and I don’t think discrimination is really a minority-only issue in the United States!’ The fact that you are a woman or a black man is not an argument, because there are an incredible number of other women and other black men who are just waiting to tell you that you’re wrong.

Much of the basis for these arguments comes from personal anecdotes and exceptions, and they tend to think, ‘so this should apply to everyone!’ But again, these are exceptions, they don’t speak for an average, why would you cite personal experience as evidence for that? But because these anecdotes exist, BECAUSE these exceptions exist, people feel more justified in following others who share these ideologies because in their mind, this is confirmation.

Again, it’s not about the logic, it’s about perspective and your emotional standing - often people think that racism exists on a two way street because they either were not discriminated against (or at least nowhere near the level of others) so they cannot comprehend where the opposition is coming from, or because they failed to identify it as discrimination. Obviously a person who has experienced racism and said that people have been racist to them would not tell you that racism doesn’t exist because of how clearly contradictory that statement is.

It is not that white people cannot ever face discrimination because of their skin color, people are extremely quick to make strawmen out of arguments by twisting their meaning to become literal or to encompass the entire demographic. They don’t understand that when people say ‘privilege’ they are not saying that they can’t experience those problems, they are saying that it has a foundation not only in history but in social and cultural norms that are extremely prevalent even today. They usually they fail to address or accept the underlying reasons behind such discrimination, they fail to see the disproportionate level of oppression that people are facing.

That’s why they can say that they have faced discrimination for being white, and that’s their reasoning for why people can be racist against them - but to say that white people are oppressed in America is an argument that they simply cannot make. The failure to see the difference between discrimination and systematic oppression/racism is what is provoking so much ire here.

So, let’s talk about white people in America. They don’t face many of the issues that minorities face so even if they can see and understand these problems, because it doesn’t affect them, oftentimes they fail to properly empathize. That’s why they think liberals are making such a big deal about issues that are supposed to be relevant to everybody, not just minorities; that’s why they think it’s okay to say racist things or express racist viewpoints without actually thinking of themselves as racist - their definition of racism has literally changed to suit their convenience because they have not been facing the same struggles as other minorities.

Racism does not always mean calling somebody a slur on the street, sometimes it means pushing an agenda that will drive these people into corners. Why would a person who has experienced and identified these issues try to refute its existence? If it is not because of their upbringing, it’s because there is a lack of empathy here - they are more concerned about how it affects them personally, and by extension, the people close to them rather than society as a whole.

While the relation to empathy and a person’s political stance will not always be consistent (e.g. a lower empathy liberal / a higher empathy conservative), there is an observable trend among both sides that reflects their emotional foundation.

A person with a decent amount of empathy does not tell people suffering from oppression ‘Get over it, life is hard.’ A person with a decent amount of empathy does not make fun of mentally ill people and call them or others ‘retarded’ or ‘autistic’ because they think it’s funny or holds some kind of ground in their argument against somebody. They can say it because they just don’t care about how it affects them. They aren’t willing to comprehend the issues those people face, so to them, those issues barely even exist.

In the same vein, that’s where a lot of conservatives get off feeling so ‘logical’ and ‘civil.’ You are not more logical, your emotional investment in your belief is shallow enough that it doesn’t get the better of you. But, it’s all you have to root yourself in so that’s where you pour all of your emotions into anyway.

Why are they being so angry about political correctness? About the plight of the white man while being so quick to dismiss the hardships of minorities? Well, all of that emotion has to go somewhere.

On the flip side, in what world is that comparable to the incarceration after incarceration and the murder after murder of people who are less advantaged than them because of a social norm that they are not only enabling, but encouraging?

Empathy. Their emotional investment lies somewhere else, they don’t care about these problems. Sure, they can make the ‘black friend’ argument all they like, but that is caring about a person individually, not caring about social and political issues that deeply affect them and people like them. Their empathy doesn’t reach that far.

It’s easy for conservatives to paint liberals as violent and overly emotional while painting themselves as civil when the issues that affect them inflict much greater wounds than any amount of ‘political correctness’ that might annoy some conservative. Their emotional investment in their cause, their EMPATHY is being invoked by a long and deadly history of injustice.

It isn’t that white people should always kneel down and give up the things that they have to minorities like some people like to believe. They are asking for respect, to understand the issues they are facing, to support them because they have been disadvantaged by the system that is in place, they are asking them to have the EMPATHY to help them as human beings and relieve them from this system of oppression.

. . . Or at least, that’s the idea - the problem with this is that this kind of tunnel-vision way of thinking goes both ways. Many far end liberals will refuse to respect white people, refuse to respect straight people, refuse to respect cis people - they often think, ‘why should I respect somebody that can’t see this cycle of suffering that we’re facing?’ It’s a terrible trend and a terrible justification to spread hate toward people - the generalizations that they love to make not only don’t apply to a great number of these people, but a lot of these people are trying to support their movement and yet suffer insult after insult in doing so.

There are other ways to vent your anger, you are literally not helping anybody by doing this: You are chasing away potential supporters and creating new enemies because you refuse to step down from your moral high-horse and you refuse to think objectively.

Conservatives are not wrong when they say that liberals tell them ‘white people should sit down and shut up’ or ‘white people can’t do this’ or ‘white people don’t experience this that and the other thing.’ So, many of these white conservatives are prone to think, ‘why should I respect somebody that doesn’t respect me?’ A good number of people who are minorities will feel inclined to agree, ESPECIALLY when liberals act in such an elitist and militant manner.

The thing about having less empathy is that you have more room to be open to other experiences and adopt new perspectives because your emotional involvement isn’t so deeply rooted in one place, you have more room to objectively look into both sides of an argument. As a result, there are conservatives (often youths) who actually wind up as liberals over time - you almost never hear about this happening the other way around, why?

Empathy. Because of their naturally higher level of empathy (on only one side of the argument, mind you), the first root that they take hold with and invest in effectively becomes an immovable object. It becomes virtually impossible to convince them of anything they don’t already believe in; whatever method you try to use, their emotional grounding in their belief is so ingrained that anything going against them feels like a personal attack and an attack against the good of society, all matter of opposing logic be damned. Herein lies the danger of prioritizing empathy over reason.

When you are in this position, you legitimately start to believe that your viewpoints should be the basis of all moral standards. It becomes ‘obvious’ to you which things are right and which things are wrong - essentially, you totally lose the ability to see things from more than one perspective (aka critical thinking) and it instills a dangerous level of confidence in everything you think and say because everything you think and say is absolute in your mind.

No, you aren’t somehow enlightened with the ultimate moral code that should be followed by everyone. You are a confirmation-bias nightmare.

To further explore this dilemma, liberals also love to fear monger and spread lies to make conservatives look bad because they are so strongly emotionally driven. Because of this, they often elect to abandon logic and good faith - many of them start to push the narrative that minorities can do no wrong and severely silence and admonish any kind of opposition (even the slightest bit of speculation can get you burned at the stake), and other such far end liberals feel the intense hatred that they do because they feel like they are perpetually surrounded by their oppressors.

Conservatives don’t feel the need to witch hunt and fear monger to that level because they usually don’t have the empathetic capacity for it in this context - their concerns do not run deep enough for them to go to those kinds of lengths. They rarely ever feel the same kind of intense hatred, because for them, the problem at hand is fundamentally different. But here’s one very prevalent emotion that most of them seem to express: ‘Annoyance.’

Because so many of them think that ‘annoyance toward political correctness’ or ‘annoyance toward generalizations of white/straight/cis people’ is in some regard a valid comparison against ‘hatred due to systematic oppression,’ it’s easy to see that outrage is being begged for here. In an example like this, the divide in empathy becomes incredibly clear. . .

. . . although it happens to be a gross reduction of the argument at hand, pitting a core issue from one side against what is basically a complaint from the other side - however, I do find it relevant because of how persistent the idea seems to be. It’s an easy target to exploit after all, if you want to minimize your argument to obscene levels to try and strengthen your own. It’s a poor practice, but when people make such a big deal of it, it’s hard not to use it as fodder.

To reiterate, left vs right is hardly a conflict of ideologies and logic.

Left vs right is a conflict of empathy.

[Off-Topic Extension]

If it wasn’t clear earlier, I would like to make a distinction between ‘little to no empathy’ vs ‘some empathy/a ton of empathy.’ A lot of conservatives don’t acknowledge that they are emotionally charged and thusly take the ‘logical’ stance on things, when in reality that tends to be quite far from the truth.

I am a person with very, very little empathy overall, so I have no real emotional attachment to either side of the argument (but I still do support one over the other), and as a result, I can freely explore both of those sides with a far more objective lens without being too offended or too annoyed to see past my bias.

As such, I find it telling that with the objective of seeking a better society for people, that I would lean more toward being liberal. Of course, part of being objective means taking a statement like that with a grain of salt - it’s likely that there are people in a similar boat who have found themselves right leaning instead. In a case like that, it would be both interesting and helpful to see what viewpoints might be presented in order to make more informed decisions.

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no-ns-en-si-ca-l · 5 years

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…³ • Miller Robinson

Preface

It cannot be said how long ago to the day it was, but before the dawn of time and forever after, a small particle has floated through the empty vacuum of deep space. This particle is just like all the others that make up the rest of the universe, but for the sake of this story, singularity might be a way to visualize something completely unperceivable due to its infinite multiples and infinitesimal size. It also cannot be said what this particle is fully like. It is colorless, shapeless, and formless. It cannot be seen, smelt, tasted, felt, or perceived by any definable means. It cannot even be said how this particle travels, where it originated, nor its exact age. Neither is it known if it can expand or contract nor how it interacts with other particles. Only recently has it been deduced that this particle is in fact spreading, but there is no exact evidence for whether this spreading is caused by growth in means that we understand, if it is multiplying in number, size, or distance (or all three), nor at what rate.

It can be understood that this particle makes up the entirety of everything in existence. Within every massive void making up the darkest places in deep space, this particle resides. It fills all of the empty space for which we can never even begin to understand. Within every nebula, this particle surrounds its billions of galaxies. Every galaxy and everything within it—each star, each celestial body, and even the dust surrounding those galaxies—are not only enveloped in this particle, but made up of it. It fills each of the three quarks inside of each proton inside of every atom of every molecule of every chemical reaction in which the universe was made and is still being made. This particle is completely unknown by any means using our current technology. Beyond the fact that we recognize its existence, we lack any understanding about it. Within this lack of knowledge, we must come to terms with our own composition of this particle. Every single part of us is made of it, even though we know nothing about it. All we know is that it exists, and we exist because it exists. But this particular story started long before our relation to this particle and long before our ability to even try to give thoughts to understanding its existence. To even try to do so will surely only result in failure of scientific, and quite possibly literary terms, but that is where this present story will begin, with … .

Chapter I:

In the beginning, when the universe was new and without light, … floated in the blazing darkness of deep space. … was incredibly tiny. It was imagined to be round, but extremely flexible in terms of its form, composition, and function. … did not have an intellect of any kind that we would be able to understand, but some form of intellect existed within its indefinable mass. The kind of intellect for which … exhibited was a type of pure oneness. It was vaster than anything else in existence because it simply was existence itself, although nearly small enough to cease existing at all. It was ever so simple yet painfully more complex than anything that could ever be comprehended in terms of human perception. The duality of its position—being all and none—allowed … to have the capacity for infinite possibilities and infinite outcomes from such possibilities. Yes, it was new, but it was all it ever would be at its start. It would never and still to this day does not cease to become new always. The functionality of … was so incredibly grandiose that it could only ever be described as having no definable function at all, for its purpose lies in that it exists.

As time passed, … remained in everything; it gained speed, distance, and grew to some immeasurable scale. Although it did not change from its origin, it became many things. As the scorching colorless black soup of the universe slowly cooled, … became waves traveling endlessly faster and faster. … raced around the frictionless explosive cloud of the first light ever in existence, colliding with itself and forming billions of bonds. Each new partner that … found became eternal—an everlasting connection that charged the matter of existence. Eventually elemental distinctions became possible between form, size, composition, and function of bonds that … became. Reactions between the elements that followed, resulted in the potential for the containment of pressure and energy. The reactions grew as more bonds were formed. These massive reactions, although microscopic against their endless backdrop, became giants. Brilliant blazing bodies ranging in temperature and size whirled amongst … —rotations caused by the energy and pressure that held the bodies together. As the masses were thrown further and further, they started to dance around each other, choreographed by the size and composition of their different bodies. Around and around the bodies cycled, sometimes colliding into massive explosions of light, sound, and energy. Giants burning white, swallowed up by giants flaming red, dwarfed by giants searing blue. With each collision, the bonds of pressure and energy broke and expelled away, creating new bonds, new reactions, and new masses. As … travelled away from its origin and as certain distances were achieved, more space and cooler temperatures allowed for the formation of solid, liquid, and gaseous bodies, as well as the combination of the three. Groups of bodies eventually fell into more stable states of rotation, and the universe subsequently settled into a chaotically balanced cycle.

After an inconceivable amount of time passed and continued to pass, synchronized systems of massive bodies became one type of existence for … . There is one such system which this particular story will center itself upon. The exact location of this particular system of massive bodies within the rest of the universe cannot be determined, but it should be stated that from any given point in the universe, that point would be considered the center. Seeing as it would be completely unavoidable to be at the center of the universe, let us position this story at the “center” and proceed forward from there.

Chapter II: L³

The “current” chapter of the Earth for this particular story cannot be fully realized in exact dates, but it is agreed that seems an adequate estimate of years. It was at this time that the Earth thrived—the world, a fertile mother providing clean air, ample water, and lush land to its inhabitants. The planet rotated through each day, giving as much as it took away. There was a cycle of necessity. Abundance and lack ebbed and flowed to match the swift current of life and death. All was as it should be. Life propelled always by new growth and development. New chapters unfolded naturally on the Earth’s surface, as it moved through space with the moon by its side, ever circling the Sun.

At this ever-specific time, a small creature roamed the Earth with only one intention in mind. As many other beings also had the same primordial ambitions that this specific creature did, it is known that competition was reasonably high, if not completely all encompassing. Time was readily available, although at this point it was not a luxury, considering there was only one means to pass the time and it relied solely on environmental conditions. To put it clearly, there were not many options for activities, and all of them were strictly biological. The body was not regarded higher or lower than the mind—it simply was one and the same. There were apparent distinctions between different beings, but these separations were also restricted to biological makeup and characteristics that went along with those biologies. You were either small or big, fast or slow, this color or that color. Maybe you could camouflage your skin to match the environment, or maybe your appearance was meant to stand out and be alarming. Maybe you used collected sunlight to feed yourself, or maybe you only ate plants, or maybe you ate other creatures. Maybe you had scales, maybe feathers, or maybe you just started growing hair as our focal character just had. Maybe your whole existence relied on only one cell, or maybe your biological composition had figured out how to produce multiple cells—billions of cells—and they all worked together in perfect synchronicity to make you exactly what you were at that given time. Maybe you weren’t done growing, shifting, becoming something so subtly new everyday it was invisible to you or your internal workings. With each offspring, your form took new and different approaches to the conditions of the times. All of these specifications worked together to execute a duty important enough to consume every hour of each day. As the sun moved from east to west, this one job filled your mind; it decided your every breath, your every movement. The criticality of your position to the world relied on your every decision, and with this, a stress that engineered your biology to structurize elemental coping mechanisms. Survival was your only occupation, and thus, you spent all your days doing just that: existing and surviving to continue existing. Without question and with every ounce of dignity, the matter of your being pushed through trial and error, and for what? For some unknown biological hope that your species would pass the test, make it to the next stage, and eventually become something completely new. All this you were completely unaware of, but nevertheless, you followed this path.

The specific being for which this story is written about cannot be discussed entirely on its biologies in our story’s current position, which itself can only serve as a midpoint. It is important to remind you once again that this story started long before its current presented beginning and will proceed long after its presented end. The timeline that is about to unfold will be rather kinetic and quite rapid in its presentation. Time shall function only as a broader placeholder for a growth that is so problematically defined and rather hypothetically at that. Time cannot serve us much in understanding the spectrum of positions placed on the specific creature mentioned in this story, but seeing that human perception is quite limited by its understanding of time, it will be used linearly to promote forward thinking.

The focal creature spoken of is thought to be quite small in size, Synapsida in classification. For the purposes of this story, it shall be described as one of the last living records of an ancestry linked to reptiles. Although not solely reptile or lizard in nature at the presented time in this story, this being relied heavily on its reptilian qualities for its occupational survival, and thus, will be defined as the last living lizard for means of easy referential understanding in genealogical terms. This story will follow the sole survivor of a position prior to a “complete” mammalian complex. It must be explained that a reason for quotational completion comes from the impossibility for a fully complete mammalian complex to arise at any point in history. Evolutionary lineage leaves an ever-present stamp on a being’s biological complex at any given time. History, although sometimes very well concealed, is extremely difficult to erase, especially in biological terms.

It is with an ever-present biological lineage and an unknown undoubted regard for survival, that this mammal-like reptile, the last living lizard or shall we call it L³, wandered its home, planet Earth. L³ was quite fond of certain activities like sunbathing, licking the dew off of large fern leaves, and eating juicy insects—the crunchier the better. Of course, all of these preferred activities were strictly prompted by its own specific biology, but L³ was neither aware nor cared to ponder such reasons for making its decisions, which was also a characteristic of this certain creature’s biology. Well, come to think of it, it is worth restating that no beings of this time cared to ponder reasons for existence because this was simply useless to their occupational survival. Such was a way of life: the body and conjunctively, the mind, did not even consider such mechanisms of thought because the link between the body and the mind was so strong the two were nearly indistinguishable. This strong mind-body link did not leave room for the mind to wander aimlessly—that behavior would be extremely counterproductive to your species’ survival and thus, would not be have even formed at this point in your biology. Our ancestor, the last lizard, nevertheless spent its days soaking up sun with its thick, still scaly, but newly and lightly furry skin. This aided to warm the last lingering portions of its cold-blooded body. It also spent time drinking dew from nearby foliage and puddles to sustain appropriate levels of hydration. At other times, it curled up to sleep in short but frequent intervals to replenish energy, always hidden within low vegetation to avoid attacks from predators. At night, the former lizard would be found hunting insects using its newly enlarged smell receptors in its slowly growing brain, then consuming such insects with the several proto-canines that occupied its wide-hinged, still reptile-like, mouth.

On this specific day, the last living record of any resemblance to our lizard ancestry had woken from one of its many naps and decided to wander to a particular plant that often collected a delightful amount of dew at this hour. This required a bit of careful maneuvering, as passing several predator-inhabited nests was part of such a task. It could be questioned why L³ would subject itself to such a dangerous mission on this occasion, but all that can be answered is that part of its reptile mental biological lineage lies with a certain habitual nature. Simply put, our ancestor was a creature of habit, and this had always been a place L³ visited. It was only recently that several predators had moved into the area, but L³ had yet to discover a new source of hydration, making this mission utterly necessary. It can also be said that there is some natural instinct to put oneself in dangerous positions while surviving—almost as a way to unknowingly prove oneself to the order of nature. On this day, L³ followed this biological instinct to prove itself as the last of a living ancestry ready to fight, if necessary, for a place in history and to show the forces of evolution its unknown desire to transition into its next chapter of being.

The lizard left the shaded foliage it called home, first by peeking its head out and quickly scanning from side to side. Its vision had improved from its previous more reptilian eyesight, but its sense of smell was the strongest in terms of predicting threatening activity. It then ran between the ferns of the dense and lush forest, ever scanning, smelling, and listening for any foreign movement not belonging to itself. Periodically it would stop and put itself low to the ground, using an ability still left over from its early reptilian days and its time spent underwater. It felt the vibrations of the ground beneath it with its feet, with its short nibble legs and with its hairless thin-skinned sensitive belly. It hid in a nearby fern upon sensing the movement of another creature nearby. As it stayed very still, the lizard naturally slowed its breathing and smelled the air around it. A pungent unwelcoming smell of flesh and saliva entered its head. It could easily decipher amongst the damp woody smells of the surrounding forest. This new thick, bodily smell neared closer and closer. It could also feel the heavy steps of the nearing creature; subtle vibrations moved the plant in which the lizard was hiding. Elongated thumps proceeded in its direction; then the walking stopped and started moving in a different direction. L³ began its next leg of the journey for water as the thumping moved further away. Thrice the lizard hid away from other beings, twice in ferns of the same kind, and lastly, in a thick moss-like shrub that grew along the base of a tree. On this day, the lizard was extremely lucky, for each time the potential dangers of a larger predator crossing its path was alleviated by the changing of directions. Of course, luck was not the determining factor here, but rather an extremely keen sense of the lizard’s fight or flight mechanism that was honed over countless ancestral evolutionary trials and errors, which led L³ to seek cover in enough time for other beings to lose interest and change course. On the last occasion in that journey for which the lizard required hiding, a grub of such delicacy was also present under the foliage. The fat young grub wriggled and struggled to hide from the lizard, unsuccessfully due to its attempted downward force against part of the exposed root of the tree rather than at soft earth. The lizard’s feeding responses kicked in, but simultaneously it still listened and smelt the quick approach of a larger being. L³ smelt the wet, tangy smell of the grub agitating the soil beneath. It stared at the grub, mouth salivating, but L³ also smelt the stench of blood coming from a nearing predator who had obviously just fed on another being but was still hungry. Even the subtlest smell of blood always triggered flight responses in the lizard, and it was accustomed to understanding the importance of hiding, which outweighed the importance of eating at this time. The lizard painfully watched as the grub finally made headway on a better course and slowly disappeared, retreating away from its impending death by lizard consumption.

After the lizard found the dewy plant, it felt quite tired from the difficult objective that resulted in rehydration. It drank and made the decision to rest, but deemed it appropriate to find a nice sunny rock to semi-nap on. Of course, it would never rest fully sound while exposed in such a way, but the dewy plant was near a little clearing in the forest that was very solitary and rarely ventured by predators at that time of day. As L³ walked to the nearby clearing, the sun passed over it, and it felt its body recharge. Warming in the sun, it realized its lack of energy was worsened by how cold it had been prior to feeling the sun. Of course, the race had warmed its blood, but in such a stressful way that now it could feel some ease sitting in the sun like that, scanning the area for insects to catch.

As the small former lizard scanned the area, it noticed something not too far off that it had completely no recognition of, although it did trigger some slight mammalian maternal response of protecting such a thing. It triggered enough of a response for the lizard to attempt engaging with it. L³ walked slowly up to the small thing, smelling quite violently as one does when exploring a completely foreign but unmoving object. The object was like a rock and about the size of L³’s paw. Small, round, and translucent white, or at least a very light color compared to the earth. You see, the ample rods but lack of cones in the lizard’s retinas had only adjusted to see gray scale at this given point in history. The lizard got very close to the small spherical pebble-like object and smelt it repeatedly, putting its nose in direct physical contact with it. The smell was not very noticeable; it smelt subtly of salt and earth—damp earth—for the object was porous enough to draw the water out of the ground. L³ nudged the thing around a bit and even tried to gnaw on it with no success. It was hard, but it could be scratched with its teeth with enough force, leaving behind a fine white dust. It was something like bone or shell, which the lizard had a slight recognition of tasting. L³ only ate insects at that time, but it was quite natural to come across bones since the consumption and extinction of other creatures were so common. A new curiosity arose in the lizard that had never before: a reaction of mammalian nature combined with a protective instinct caused from the object looking like that of an egg that its kind produced. Although this lizard was the last of its kind, it was completely unaware of this fact. L³ took the small rounded sphere in its mouth and ran back to its nest…

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andthereshegoess · 7 years

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Forty Rules of Love

Rule 1

How we see God is a direct reflection of how we see ourselves. If God brings to mind mostly fear and blame, it means there is too much fear and blame welled inside us. If we see God as full of love and compassion, so are we.

Rule 2

The path to the Truth is a labour of the heart, not of the head. Make your heart your primary guide! Not your mind. Meet, challenge and ultimately prevail over your nafs with your heart. Knowing your ego will lead you to the knowledge of God.

Rule 3

You can study God through everything and everyone in the universe, because God is not confined in a mosque, synagogue or church. But if you are still in need of knowing where exactly His abode is, there is only one place to look for him: in the heart of a true lover.

Rule 4

Intellect and love are made of different materials. Intellect ties people in knots and risks nothing, but love dissolves all tangles and risks everything. Intellect is always cautious and advices, ‘Beware too much ecstasy’, whereas love says, ‘Oh, never mind! Take the plunge!’ Intellect does not easily break down, whereas love can effortlessly reduce itself to rubble. But treasures are hidden among ruins. A broken heart hides treasures.

Rule 5

Most of problems of the world stem from linguistic mistakes and simple misunderstanding. Don’t ever take words at face value. When you step into the zone of love, language, as we know it becomes obsolete. That which cannot be put into words can only be grasped through silence.

Rule 6

Loneliness and solitude are two different things. When you are lonely, it is easy to delude yourself into believing that you are on the right path. Solitude is better for us, as it means being alone without feeling lonely. But eventually it is the best to find a person who will be your mirror. Remember only in another person’s heart can you truly see yourself and the presence of God within you.

Rule 7

Whatever happens in your life, no matter how troubling things might seem, do not enter the neighbourhood of despair. Even when all doors remain closed, God will open up a new path only for you. Be thankful! It is easy to be thankful when all is well. A Sufi is thankful not only for what he has been given but also for all that he has been denied.

Rule 8

Patience does not mean to passively endure. It means to look at the end of a process. What does patience mean? It means to look at the thorn and see the rose, to look at the night and see the dawn. Impatience means to be shortsighted as to not be able to see the outcome. The lovers of God never run out of patience, for they know that time is needed for the crescent moon to become full.

Rule 9

East, west, south, or north makes little difference. No matter what your destination, just be sure to make every journey a journey within. If you travel within, you’ll travel the whole wide world and beyond.

Rule 10

The midwife knows that when there is no pain, the way for the baby cannot be opened and the mother cannot give birth. Likewise, for a new self to be born, hardship is necessary. Just as clay needs to go through intense heat to become strong, Love can only be perfected in pain.

Rule 11

The quest for love changes user. There is no seeker among those who search for love who has not matured on the way. The moment you start looking for love, you start to change within and without.

Rule 12

There are more fake gurus and false teachers in this world than the number of stars in the visible universe. Don’t confuse power-driven, self-centered people with true mentors. A genuine spiritual master will not direct your attention to himself or herself and will not expect absolute obedience or utter admiration from you, but instead will help you to appreciate and admire your inner self. True mentors are as transparent as glass. They let the light of God pass through them.

Rule 13

Try not to resist the changes, which come your way. Instead let life live through you. And do not worry that your life is turning upside down. How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come?

Rule 14

God is busy with the completion of your work, both outwardly and inwardly. He is fully occupied with you. Every human being is a work in progress that is slowly but inexorably moving toward perfection. We are each an unfinished work of art both waiting and striving to be completed. God deals with each of us separately because humanity is fine art of skilled penmanship where every single dot is equally important for the entire picture.

Rule 15

It’s easy to love a perfect God, unblemished and infallible that He is. What is far more difficult is to love fellow human being with all their imperfections and defects. Remember, one can only know what one is capable of loving. There is no wisdom without love. Unless we learn to love God’s creation, we can neither truly love nor truly know God.

Rule 16

Real faith is the one inside. The rest simply washes off. There is only one type of dirt that cannot be cleansed with pure water, and that is the stain of hatred and bigotry contaminating the soul. You can purify your body through abstinence and fasting, but only love will purify your heart.

Rule 17

The whole universe is contained within a single human being-you. Everything that you see around, including the things that you might not be fond of and even the people you despise or abhor, is present within you in varying degrees. Therefore, do not look for Sheitan outside yourself either. The devil is not an extraordinary force that attacks from without. It is an ordinary voice within. If you set to know yourself fully, facing with honesty and hardness.

Rule 18

If you want to change the ways others treat you, you should first change the way you treat yourself, fully and sincerely, there is no way you can be loved. Once you achieve that stage, however, be thankful for every thorn that others might throw at you. It is a sign that you will soon be showered in roses.

Rule 19

Fret not where the road will take you. Instead concentrate on the first step. That is the hardest part and that is what you are responsible for. Once you take that step let everything do what it naturally does and the rest will follow. Don’t go with the flow. Be the flow.

Rule 20

We were all created in His image, and yet we were each created different and unique. No two people are alike. No hearts beat to the same rhythm. If God had wanted everyone to be the same, He would have made it so. Therefore, disrespecting differences and imposing your thoughts on others is an amount to disrespecting God’s holy scheme.

Rule 21

When a true lover of God goes into a tavern, the tavern becomes his chamber of prayer, but when a wine bibber goes into the same chamber, it becomes his tavern. In everything we do, it is our hearts that make the difference, not our outer appearance. Sufis do not judge other people on how they look or who they are. When a Sufi stares at someone, he keeps both eyes closed instead opens a third eye – the eye that sees the inner realm.

Rule 22

Life is a temporary loan and this world is nothing but a sketchy imitation of Reality. Only children would mistake a toy for the real thing. And yet human beings either become infatuated with the toy or disrespectfully break it and throw it aside. In this life stay away from all kinds of extremities, for they will destroy your inner balance. Sufis do not go to extremes. A Sufi always remains mild and moderate.

Rule 23

The human being has a unique place among God’s creation. “I breathed into him of My Spirit,” God says. Each and every one of us without exception is designed to be God’s delegate on earth. Ask yourself, just how often do you behave like a delegate, if you ever do so? Remember, it fells upon each of us to discover the divine spirit inside and live by it.

Rule 24

Hell is in the here and now. So is heaven. Quit worrying about hell or dreaming about heaven, as they are both present inside this very moment. Every time we fall in love, we ascend to heaven. Every time we hate, envy or fight someone we tumble straight into the fires of hell.

Rule 25

Each and every reader comprehends the Holy Qur’an on a different level of tandem with the depth of his understanding. There are four levels of insight. The first level is the outer meaning and it is the one that the majority of the people are content with. Next is the Batin – the inner level. Third, there is the inner of the inner. And the fourth level is so deep it cannot be put into words and is therefore bound to remain indescribable.

Rule 26

The universe is one being. Everything and everyone is interconnected through an invisible web of stories. Whether we are aware of it or not, we are all in a silent conversation. Do no harm. Practice compassion. And do not gossip behind anyone’s back – not even a seemingly innocent remark! The words that come out of our mouths do not vanish but are perpetually stored in infinite space and they will come back to us in due time. One man’s pain will hurt us all. One man’s joy will make everyone smile.

Rule 27

Whatever you speak, good or evil, will somehow come back to you. Therefore, if there is someone who harbours ill thoughts about you, saying similarly bad things about him will only make matters worse. You will be locked in a vicious circle of malevolent energy. Instead for forty days and nights say and think nice things about that person. Everything will be different at the end of 40 days, because you will be different inside.

Rule 28

The past is an interpretation. The future is on illusion. The world does not more through time as if it were a straight line, proceeding from the past to the future. Instead time moves through and within us, in endless spirals. Eternity does not mean infinite time, but simply timelessness. If you want to experience eternal illumination, put the past and the future out of your mind and remain within the present moment.

Rule 29

Destiny doesn’t mean that your life has been strictly predetermined. Therefore, to live everything to the fate and to not actively contribute to the music of the universe is a sign of sheer ignorance. The music of the universe is all pervading and it is composed on 40 different levels. Your destiny is the level where you play your tune. You might not change your instrument but how well to play is entirely in your hands.

Rule 30

The true Sufi is such that even when he is unjustly accused, attacked and condemned from all sides, he patiently endures, uttering not a sing bad word about any of his critics. A Sufi never apportions blame. How can there be opponents or rivals or even “others” when there is no “self” in the first place? How can there be anyone to blame when there is only One?

Rule 31

If you want to strengthen your faith, you will need to soften inside. For your faith to be rock solid, your heart needs to be as soft as a feather. Through an illness, accident, loss or fright, one way or another, we are all faced with incidents that teach us how to become less selfish and judgmental and more compassionate and generous. Yet some of us learn the lesson and manage to become milder, while some others end up becoming even harsher than before…

Rule 32

Nothing should stand between you and God. No imams, priests, rabbits or any other custodians of moral or religious leadership. Not spiritual masters and not even your faith. Believe in your values and your rules, but never lord them over others. If you keep breaking other people’s hearts, whatever religious duty you perform is no good. Stay away from all sorts of idolatry, for they will blur your vision. Let God and only God be your guide. Learn the Truth, my friend, but be careful not to make a fetish out of your truths.

Rule 33

While everyone in this world strives to get somewhere and become someone, only to leave it all behind after death, you aim for the supreme stage of nothingness. Live this life as light and empty as the number zero. We are no different from a pot. It is not the decorations outside but the emptiness inside that holds us straight. Just like that, it is not what we aspire to achieve but the consciousness of nothingness that keeps us going.

Rule 34

Submission does not mean being weak or passive. It leads to neither fatalism nor capitulation. Just the opposite. True power resides in submission a power that comes within. Those who submit to the divine essence of life will live in unperturbed tranquillity and peace even the whole wide world goes through turbulence after turbulence.

Rule 35

In this world, it is not similarities or regularities that take us a step forward, but blunt opposites. And all the opposites in the universe are present within each and every one of us. Therefore the believer needs to meet the unbeliever residing within. And the nonbeliever should get to know the silent faithful in him. Until the day one reaches the stage of Insane-I Kamil, the perfect human being, faith is a gradual process and one that necessitates its seeming opposite: disbelief.

Rule 36

This world is erected upon the principle of reciprocity. Neither a drop of kindness nor a speck of evil will remain unreciprocated. For not the plots, deceptions, or tricks of other people. If somebody is setting a trap, remember, so is God. He is the biggest plotter. Not even a leaf stirs outside God’s knowledge. Simply and fully believe in that. Whatever God does, He does it beautifully.

Rule 37

God is a meticulous dock maker. So precise is His order that everything on earth happens in its own time. Neither a minute late nor a minute early. And for everyone without exception, the clock works accurately. For each there is a time to love and a time to die.

Rule 38

It is never too late to ask yourself, “Am I ready to change the life I am living? Am I ready to change within?” Even if a single day in your life is the same as the day before, it surely is a pity. At every moment and with each new breath, one should be renewed and renewed again. There is only one-way to be born into a new life: to die before death.

Rule 39

While the part change, the whole always remains the same. For every thief who departs this world, a new one is born. And every descent person who passes away is replaced by a new one. In this way not only does nothing remain the same but also nothing ever really changes. For every Sufi who dies, another is born somewhere.

Rule 40

A life without love is of no account. Don’t ask yourself what kind of love you should seek, spiritual or material, divine or mundane, Eastern or Western. Divisions only lead to more divisions. Love has no labels, no definitions. It is what it is, pure and simple. Love is the water of life. And a lover is a soul of fire! The universe turns differently when fire loves water.

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