#which tells me- why try anything when someone will undoubtedly make it controversial?

[libraford]

Me: -excels at something- :)

Boss: you can't be that good without cheating.

Me: :(

Whatever this conversation is: you can't be that good without fucking your coworkers over.

Me: :'(

#trying not to take it personally #but its really becoming a theme in my life #that whenever im good at something i either get exploited for it #get told im cheating #or that my knack for it makes it hadder for others to excel #and none of this reduces my talent or my hard work or the praise i do get #but it contributes to my already immobilizing impostor syndrome #which tells me- why try anything when someone will undoubtedly make it controversial? #im sorry it comes easy to me #im sorry it doesnt come easy to you #im sorry for all the people ive unknowingly hurt with my special interest #and for getting a career in that special interest #i thought that was what you were supposed to do

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Oh boy. I made a whole new post for this because I have so many feelings about it. The Office is the perfect comparison to the Unauthorized Docs - and if I’m not mistaken Matthew specifically attributed part of his inspiration to the series. I have a LOT of feelings on The Office and what it did for the world in it’s time. First, I want to address what Steve Carell has said about it before I get into my commentary/comparison:

Satire has played a key role in politics for centuries - tracing back to Ancient Egypt. This is honestly the best explanation of satire that I’ve ever found, so I want to quote it here: 

A feature of satire is strong irony or sarcasm —"in satire, irony is militant"— but parody, burlesque, exaggeration, juxtaposition, comparison, analogy, and double entendre are all frequently used in satirical speech and writing. This "militant" irony or sarcasm often professes to approve of (or at least accept as natural) the very things the satirist wishes to question.

The Office was, for it’s time, a relatively progressive show. For example, it included the first disabled actor playing a disabled character that I’d ever seen on TV. This happened in an undoubtedly offensive episode (The Injury). This is my favorite episode of the entire show as a disabled person because let me tell you right now - Michael Scott was the epitome of everything annoying that has ever happened to me as a disabled person.

And the point was to laugh at him for it.

For the first time, we saw someone being blatantly offensive and that wasn’t supposed to be the funny part of the show - the funny part was that he thought it was acceptable, when everyone else around him acknowledged it was fucking terrible. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of people misconstrued this and thought Michael was the “hero” - a reason why this kind of humor should no longer be considered acceptable (too much room for error). The jokes made were also made with a worse base level, which means some truly offensive jokes slipped through, and make some scenes very hard if not impossible to watch.

But satire is, and always has been, an important part of our political climate. Look at Stephen Colbert. The point of satire isn’t and has never been “laugh at joke then forget about it.” It’s “if you recognize your behavior in this parody, consider why and calibrate, lest people mock you for it, too.”

Matthew’s character is, by his own description and the commentary from his cast members, the exact opposite of who he was as a person. There is even a moment where you can see him break character because, despite having planned on throwing a piece of paper as a kid in a scripted scene, he got worried when it actually hit him. There are dozens of interviews where people try to shift into “controversial” or blatantly offensive topics and Matthew recoils or straight up says “No.” He made the character specifically because he met men like that in Hollywood, found it gross, and wanted to make fun of them.

The Original Unauthorized Docs were filmed in 2007-2008. This was the height of The Office and similar satirical parodies of the stereotypical American Man in Power (a blatant misogynist, predator, idiot). This kind of humor, for its time, was one of the first attempts to poke fun at offensive behavior that was highly normalized and celebrated in Hollywood. It helped pave the road for people to point out and explain to others why this behavior looked ridiculous and was offensive. Portraying the asshole as the butt of the joke was always its purpose.

That being said, like Steve Carell said, it’s a good thing we’ve moved on. Satire is absolutely possible without offense, and our humor and comedy has gotten so much better. For example, now instead of making jokes like in the original Docs, Matthew’s character is concerned about his height and masculinity as compared to other men more than anything else. It’s clear to me that, like Carell, Matthew has learned to adapt his humor as he learned certain behaviors and jokes aren’t acceptable.

Whether you want to accept that growth and move on, recognizing that times were very different back then, or whether you’re still hurt and aren’t ready to let that go, it’s up to you. I understand both views, but I find that most people weren’t aware of the social/political context of 2008 (since many were under the age of 10), and it is absolutely paramount to these discussions.

So yeah, there’s my rant.

#rant #answer #answered

[qionow]

Status Quo

They had one rule: don’t offend anyone. 

Political get-togethers could easily ruin a nation’s reputation if they expressed an opinion too controversial in the eyes of those attending. Especially if said eyes held a more conservative view of the world. 

So naturally, Italy and Romana decide to bring their girlfriends along with them. 

(also happy pride y’all, enjoy some wlw content in the form of “don’t talk to me or my bottom ever again”: the fic)

There were certainly worse ways to spend a Friday night, but being forced to attend a formal party filled with old politicians and exhausted diplomats wasn’t exactly the best thing in the world for Italy either. 

If it were up to her, then she would have slept right through the evening and let the political disaster that started at seven play out on its own without her. But unfortunately, this was something she didn’t have a choice in, so Italy relegated herself to looking around for any signs of free food and smiling at whoever’s eye she happened to catch as she made her way through the crowd.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” 

Italy paused when she caught Germany’s muttered question, glancing up to see a pair of pale blue eyes scanning the room with no hidden amount of apprehension. 

“Mhm!” Italy replied breezily, squeezing their interlocked hands lightly. “Don’t worry about it!” 

However, Germany did have a fair reason to look so concerned. 

Italy really didn’t draw much attention to herself compared to the rest of the people at the party. Someone like her bouncing around in a dress and heels wasn’t exactly the most threatening thing in the world, after all. 

But a tall German woman in a full suit was about as far on the opposite side of the spectrum you could get from that image. 

“I thought your boss specifically said to be more conservative this time around,” Germany muttered, briefly ducking her head when they passed a small group whose conversation notably silenced as soon as she was within hearing distance.

Still, Italy waved her off with her free hand for that, her relentlessly sunny attitude in full swing. “That’s what he told me to do! You can do whatever you want!” 

She made to start her brisk pace again, but her smile slowly dropped when she caught the persistent hesitation on Germany’s face. Easing Germany’s anxiety was a much more strenuous task compared to tackling her own worries, but there was no way Italy was going to let this loom over her lover’s shoulders for the rest of the night.

That thought was all she needed to change their course in order to usher them both into one of the less populated corners of the room, pulling Germany along with her until they were tucked away from the bulk of the crowd. 

“What’s wrong, cara?” 

Even when Italy tried to catch her gaze, Germany’s eyes still wandered over to the rest of the room every so often with clear caution.

“I’m just worried about you,” she finally answered, voice hushed and nearly drowned out in the chatter of the room.

Italy paused. 

That wasn’t what she had thought would be the problem.

“Me?” She pointed back to herself and received a small nod in confirmation, which did absolutely nothing to explain the situation to her. “Germany, why on earth would you be worried about me?” 

She could tell it was getting harder for Germany to fully verbalize her thoughts as she pursed her lips, visibly tensing up the longer the silence dragged on.

“Well,” she started slowly, pressing her lips together once before she managed to continue. “You’re here with me. And this isn’t a very welcoming crowd.” 

When Italy only stared back at her though, Germany let out a frustrated sigh and crossed her arms. 

“I don’t want someone to try and go after you because of me.” 

The exasperation in her voice was evident, but Italy still caught the undertone of worry that laced that simple sentence together. 

“Monika.” Italy reached out to pull at Germany’s arm, forcing them to uncross enough for her to take her hand and intertwine their fingers together. “That’s not going to happen.” 

“But-” 

“I mean it.” 

Italy made sure to cut off that train of thought as soon as Germany opened her mouth, squeezing her hand in a silent request to let her continue.

“You’re scary enough already. Nobody’s going to bother you or me,” she went on. “And if they do, then you can just beat them up!” 

Germany sighed, but Italy could have sworn she saw a flicker of amusement in her eyes and she knew she was going in the right direction as soon as she did.

“Marzia, I can’t do that here.” 

“That’s ok!” Italy channeled all of the enthusiastic determination she was known for so she could beam up at Germany with the confidence she hoped to instill in her. “I’ll just beat them up for you!” 

Germany only stared at her at first, total shock written all over her face before she dropped her head. It was hard to pick up, but Italy still managed to catch the faint chuckle she let out.

When Germany finally looked up at her, a small smile tugged the corner of her lips up and that sight alone was enough to make Italy melt on the spot. 

“That’s what you’re going to do?” she mused, a teasing curl to her words that Italy rarely heard from her. 

Italy’s cheeks hurt with the force of her grin as she nodded her head fast enough to nearly whip herself in the face with her ponytail.

“Yup! That’s why you don’t have to worry about what you’re wearing!” Italy was sure that her relief was clear as day, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to care at the moment. “Besides, you look good!”

She took a moment to eye the way the sharp lines of Germany’s dark black suit jacket framed her broad shoulders ever so nicely, tight sleeves clinging to a set of very strong arms.

“Really good.” 

Germany shook her head, but she was still much more relaxed than when the night first started and Italy was nothing short of thrilled for that accomplishment.

“Oh, it’s a pleasure to see you two here!” 

And that relaxed state was gone in a flash as a man Italy had never seen before clapped a hand on both of their shoulders. “I’m sure it was hard to make it, with all your work nowadays!” 

Italy was quick to smile back in an attempt to draw his attention to her when Germany visibly tensed up under his grip. It would be safe to assume that he was some politician looking to widen his social network and Germany’s less-than-warm response would undoubtedly send the wrong message if that was the case. 

“It’s no problem!” she replied cheerfully. “We’re just glad we get to come!” 

That was certainly the right move when the man let out a loud laugh, briefly shaking them both before he finally let go. “That’s what I like to hear!” 

He reached over to nudge Germany, a friendly curve to his grin as he beamed her with obvious delight despite her stiff posture.

“It’s good to see you out and about too, Ludwig! I’m sure our little Italy here had a hand in that though!” 

Italy's smile dropped. 

When she looked over to Germany, she caught the silent question she was asking her when her eyes flickered over to the politician before they met hers again. Italy didn’t even have to think before she gave her a nod in return.

She had never been so happy to let Germany take the lead before when she saw the way Germany drew herself back into a familiar stoic expression that was much more composed and much more intimidating. 

“My name is Monika.” 

Italy vaguely registered the fact that the man’s smile dropped in record time, especially when there were more pressing issues to concern herself with.

Germany on her own already had a commanding enough presence with her sharp blue eyes and broad stature, about as close to the embodiment of military power that one could get in a person. But now, that power was on full display as she clasped her hands behind her back and glared down at the man in front of her, practically radiating strength from every inch of her body. 

And Italy was absolutely smitten with her. 

The politician who was currently facing Germany’s silent wrath didn’t seem to share the same opinion though. 

“Ah, of course.” He cleared his throat, glancing off to the side when Germany had yet to break eye contact with him. “Right. I mean-I heard that you would be coming, but I thought you would just look a little more, you know-” 

He waved a hand towards Germany, although that hand quickly retracted itself when Germany’s expression didn’t change.

“I don’t.” Germany said slowly, voice lowering dangerously into a tone that was more suitable for addressing a soldier than a guest at a party. “Would you like to elaborate?” 

That was as clear of a challenge as Italy had ever heard from her, which the politician certainly caught onto as well if the way his face paled had anything to say about it.

“Oh no, no, I’ve taken up enough of your time already,” he fumbled out, shaking his head with a faltering attempt at a polite smile. “I’ll just, um, be on my way.” 

He was quick to excuse himself with an awkward attempt at a wave before he retreated back into the safety of the crowd, vanishing from sight in an impressively short amount of time. 

But even after he left, it took a while for the cold look on Germany’s face to completely melt away as she let out a tense sigh, closing her eyes in order to bring a hand up to her temples.

“Do I really look like Ludwig?”  

Italy couldn’t stop the bubbling laughter from escaping her chest at that point, clutching onto Germany’s arm for dear life so she could keep herself steady. 

“What?” 

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing!” 

Germany raised an eyebrow at her giggling fit, which only served to send Italy right back into a barely comprehensible mess.

“Italy.”

“I’m sorry!” Italy wheezed out. “It’s just-you were so worried about us getting hurt! Us!” 

Germany let out a quiet exhale as Italy slowly managed to pull herself back together, the last of her hiccuping laughter forced away to leave behind a broad grin. “I suppose you were right then.” 

“See?” The smile on Italy’s face was probably the most genuine one she had done all night. “There’s nothing to worry about!”

Germany let out a hum, although it wasn’t quite in full agreement. 

Luckily for her, Italy knew exactly how to change that. 

“Hey.” 

Once she had Germany’s attention, Italy pushed herself up onto the balls of her feet in order to press a kiss to her cheek, rocking back down with the hope that all of the fondness in her chest was properly translated. “You’re still my Monika, ok?” 

And oh, she knew that message was sent loud and clear when Germany’s face burst into a fiery red, quickly ducking her head in a hopeless attempt to hide her blush. 

Italy’s smile widened as she reached down to interlace their hands together once more, tugging Germany back through the crowd with pure delight.

After all, the night would only last so long and she still had a very lovely German sweetheart to show off to the rest of the guests. 

~~

Romana didn’t even know why she was here. 

Italy was more than capable of handling social events on her own, so the reason why her boss decided to loop her into this was a complete mystery to her. 

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she had cursed him out in his own office a few days ago. Maybe it didn’t. 

Like she said, a complete mystery.

“I think that’s another one for ‘close friends.’”

Romana promptly found herself snapped out of her thoughts, glancing over at Spain, who was currently typing away at her phone. “Why the hell are you keeping track?” 

“I just thought it would be funny!” Spain replied easily, shooting a broad grin down at Romana. “Do you want to see what we got so far?” 

“No.” 

Spain’s smile never faltered despite Romana’s curt answer, leaning down to hold her phone out. “Are you sure?” 

Romana's gaze flickered down once, then twice before she snatched Spain’s phone out of her hands with a few muttered insults. She chose to ignore Spain’s light laughter in favor of studying the messy notes on the screen in front of her instead. 

According to the data, three people had mistaken them for waitresses, four people had asked where their husbands were, one poor bastard thought they were sisters, and a whole twelve guests had somehow gotten the impression that they were “close friends.” 

Although, given the fact that Spain was currently decked in a dark crimson dress and a full face of makeup compared to the walking manifestation of butch fashion that was Germany, Romana really couldn’t blame them. 

That didn’t mean that Spain was completely modest with her choice of fashion though. 

“Excuse me, but would you two happen to be Spain and Romana, by any chance?” 

Romana glanced up from Spain’s phone to meet the service-ready smile of some woman in front of them, likely an underpaid and overworked secretary if she had to place her bets. 

“That’s us!” Spain chirped back, plucking her phone from Romana in one fluid motion. “Is there something you needed?”

“Oh no, I just wanted to drop by and say hi.” The woman’s smile softened into something more genuine. “You two look wonderful tonight.” 

Spain’s bubbly enthusiasm riled itself back up in full force at that.

“Thank you!” she replied easily. “You look great too! I love your dress!”

When the secretary looked over to her, Romana jerked her head in a quick nod of agreement, which thankfully seemed to be enough to avoid coming off as a complete brat. 

“It’s not anything special, just something I picked up a while ago,” the woman laughed, waving her off with polite modesty. However, once her eyes trailed down to Spain’s right hand, her smile quickly morphed into a concerned frown. “Oh! Um, I think you broke your nails there.” 

“Hmm?” Spain peered down at her hand with faux curiosity and Romana had to physically resist the urge to groan when she held her fingers up. “Do you mean these?” 

Romana didn’t know when Spain had gotten her nails done or who had even agreed to do them for her with the stunt she pulled off because really, having your index and middle fingers painted and clipped strikingly short compared to the length of the rest of your nails was a bold move for a formal party.

It was stupid and it was embarassing and it was exactly the kind of thing that Spain would try to get away with.

“Don’t worry, these were on purpose! They do come in pretty handy after all!” 

The woman tilted her head to the side with obvious confusion and Romana was tempted to beg for her to leave before the full force of Spain’s dramatics could be unveiled. 

“On purpose?” she repeated, the connection obviously miles away from being formed in her head at that point. “What would you need them that short for?” 

Spain only flipped her hand over so her palm was to the ceiling, curling her index and middle fingers towards her in a come hither motion with a completely innocent and wildly inappropriate smile. 

Romana had seen a wide variety of reactions that night ranging from complete obliviousness to awkward discomfort and some kind of emotion within that range was what she was expecting, especially with how nice the secretary had been thus far.

But seeing her face twist with pure disgust was the one reaction that Romana had yet to see and that was where she was going to draw the line.

“You got a fucking problem with that?” Romana snapped, crossing her arms with a scowl. 

“Do I-” The woman quickly met Romana’s glare with a disapproving frown that made Romana’s blood boil. “Of course not! There’s just no reason for you two to be putting this in everyone’s face is all.”

Romana would swear to this day that her temper had never jumped up so quickly before in her life.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean that this is a formal event and there are certain rules to abide by,” she replied firmly, passive hostility dripping from every word that came out of her mouth. “I assumed you would have a little more modesty. It does bring up questions about your integrity as a nation.”

The secretary’s critical gaze drifted down to where the hem of Romana’s dress rested against her thighs.

“And as a woman.”

Oh, did Romana have some thoughts about that little comment.

“You fucking-”

The only thing that stopped Romana from reaching over and strangling the woman herself was the fact that Spain had shot her arm out to stop her from stepping forward, the friendly look on her face looking decidedly more strained than before.

“Roma, why don’t you go look around for a minute?” Spain’s tone seemed to offer less of an offer and more of a command at that point. “I’ll come find you later.” 

She really just wanted to argue and have at the secretary herself, but her mouth snapped itself shut once she caught the hard glint in Spain’s eyes. 

“Fine,” she spat out, glaring at the woman who seemed to be under the impression that she had somehow won here.

Romana didn’t say a word to correct her as she marched right back off into the crowd, glancing back just in time to see Spain’s smile drop into a cold glare. 

Sure, she wanted to chew that excuse of a guest out herself, but she knew that Spain would have that handled without her and that was enough of a victory in her opinion.

~~

Romana turned when she heard the faint clicking of heels against the floor, looking up just in time to see Spain heading right towards her with a bright smile. 

“I’m back!” Spain called out cheerfully, leaning down to press a messy kiss to the top of her head. “Sorry that took a while!” 

“Whatever.” Romana rolled her eyes when Spain wrapped an arm around her waist. “I can handle that shit on my own, you know.”

“I know, I know,” Spain cooed back. “I just got a little carried away. She shouldn’t have said that about you.”

“Right.” Romana’s attention was already fixed on the hand that was currently pressing her body right next to Spain’s. “Are you going to do this for the rest of the night?” 

“Yup!” 

Romana glanced up, ready to find the familiar sight of a teasing grin on Spain’s face only to find complete determination. 

She let out a groan, slapping her hands up to cover her face. Of course, she had forgotten exactly how hard it was to shake Spain’s protective mood off once she really got into it. “No.” 

Spain frowned, mouth already open to protest. “But-” 

“No.” 

“How about ten minutes?” she finally bartered, already quirking her lip out in a rather impressive attempt at looking like a kicked puppy. “Please?” 

Romana’s first instinct was to give her a hard no, but now that she thought about it, it really wasn’t so bad, being this close to Spain. With her mood, she would definitely be more than safe from anyone else who decided to make a scene. And while she would never admit it out loud, it did feel nice to have Spain dote on her so much. 

But Spain didn’t need to know that.

“Fine.” 

The speed with which Spain brightened up as soon as Romana muttered that word was honestly astonishing to see in person. 

“Yes! Thank you!” Spain chirped, leaning down again to press a messy kiss to her cheek, even if she was grinning too widely in order to do it properly. 

Despite the less than ideal attempt, Romana still didn’t move to push Spain’s head away. “Shut up.”

But now that the hectic moment had died down, Romana found that she still had a question that had remained unanswered.

“What the hell did you even say?”

Spain paused, glancing at Romana quizzically. “To her?” 

When Romana nodded, Spain laughed, but she still caught a glimpse of that lingering irritation behind her smile as her grip tightened ever so slightly.

“You don’t need to worry about that, Roma.” 

#gerita #nyo gerita #spamano #nyo spamano #my writing #also not going on ao3 bc this kinda sucks and i don't feel like editing lmao

[sophrosinn]

the (un)lucky ones

story description:

“the story’s great, but I think it would be better if the story ended like this”

Affronted at the audacity of the comment, she furiously replies, “then write your own story, asshole!”

word count: 2,048

a/n: happiest solar anniversary to one of my best girls @vanaera! thank you for being the bestest friend a girl could ever ask for. this short story, which is loosely based irl, serves as my gift to you. i hope you’ll like it! 

shout-out to @senfleurs for being the best gal and helping me out with this. she even stepped up and edited this omg, and i cannot stress how much I’m thankful, lol especially she made sure that I get to finish this on time

—

3.

In retrospect, she knows better than to let some dumb comment, especially from someone on the Internet, rile her up this much. Even her followers tell her as much: it’s unwarranted, insensitive even. One of her followers, hippopopo tries to take it a step further, justifying by saying, verbatim: It’s her story anyway!!! So only she knows how the story should end best, okay! 😤😠💢

(in actuality, she has qualms about that, mostly because she had read some books which she thought didn’t end well. but that would take time to unpack and this story isn’t about that, no. she’s flattered at the support, nonetheless.)

And yet, there she is at 8 in the morning, her fingers furiously gliding across her keyboard as she writes a spite-filled story in response. Oftentimes, her muse for writing comes from movies she watched with her family, or from songs she heard on Korean dramas, or those meet-cute scenarios she gushed about with her best friends. This time, however, spite’s her main gal.

She finishes at 10. Later at 4 in the afternoon, she posts it. About an hour later, she doesn’t even try to contain the smirk lighting up her face when a familiar notification pops up.

—

1.

The story starts with an inconspicuous like from a user named agust-d five months ago. Back then, she thought nothing of it. A day later, agust-d comments on a story from her drabble series. Since then, every day without fail, agust-d leaves a small token of their appreciation for her works; brief, concise comments such as, “nice job on the flower descriptions,” or “i liked it.” 

Belatedly, she wonders if agust-d is a person of few words, because why else would they leave comments with only six words or less, even on her works with over 30k words? Don’t get her wrong, of course she’s eternally grateful for all the support she receives from her affectionate dears. But sometimes, especially on days her self-confidence plummets and she’s in need of reassurance, she ponders if all her efforts are for naught. (of course not, never, she gently reminds herself.)

And each day, she resists the growing urge to reply: don’t you have anything more to say!!! (but alas, she isn’t a rude person—unless provoked—she can’t so she settles with letting her mind wander.)

Three months of this and she finally caves in. With her interest piqued, she browses through agust-d’s posts. After two hours, she learns that agust-d goes by suga online. Coincidentally, Suga is a male student at the same university she’s currently attending. For a moment, she briefly considers a possibility—what are the chances that they’ve met, have fallen into step alongside each other, have passed by him in the large hallways, or have shared her table with him at the library during exam season? The possibility of knowing someone without actually knowing them? 

(that’s the funny thing about the online world, she supposes. you may know all that matters about someone: their likes, dislikes, kinks, fears, and horrid taste in music, absolutely everything except that one thing that matters the most: their names.)

Suga, she eventually learns, is not a man of few words. In truth, he’s got a few words too many to say about a diverse range of controversial topics. In his words, his passion burns bright and clear, but for her, he doesn’t shine any brighter than when he talks about music. It shows in his blog, which consists of a myriad of album reviews across different genres (fascinating, she notes, their music interests align as well).

Occasionally, he posts his renditions of some popular rap music, and as sporadic as this happens, she admits that his covers are her favorite part of his blog. And naturally, she refuses to acknowledge that it has everything to do with her fascination with deep, raspy voices, which, (un)fortunately for her, Suga undoubtedly has.

After some serious debating with herself, she decides to not follow him back. But she makes sure to check his profile every other day for no real reason, really, her soul wallowing in denial. In her defense, when did anyone need a reason to stalk someone?

And so, it begins, her fascination with this stranger on the other side of the screen. Never in her whole life did she imagine herself harboring a (teeny-tiny, infinitesimal) crush towards someone on the Internet. Certainly, she knows there’s always a one-in-a-thousand chance that it happens in real life, it’s just that out of all the 7 billion people in the world, she wasn’t expecting herself to be the (un)lucky one.

—

2.

The fateful day begins like any other. She wakes up to a brand new day, at 7 am, and like clockwork, she begins to stretch atop her pink yoga mat. Halfway through her workout, her phone pings with a new notification. Immediately, her phone screen lights up: agust-d has left a comment on your work!

Her traitorous heart skips a beat in the utmost display of betrayal. It’s Suga!

Ever since she scrolled through his blog two months ago, she has been exchanging messages with Suga. Her covert mission to surreptitiously listen to his song covers ends miserably when she accidentally double-clicks on a post he made two years ago. A string of expletives followed as she stared agonizingly at the post. She attempts to remove her blunder, but soon accepts defeat as it doesn’t even take a full minute until she receives a message notification from Suga. The internal debate resumes as her finger clumsily hovers on the computer mouse and she hesitantly clicks. From thereon, the rest, as they say, is history.

She ends up following his account the day after.

Although, if she were being truthful, all they’ve been sending back and forth are pleasantries. Suga seems hellbent on keeping the conversations polite and distant. She doesn’t understand, it’s not like she’s flirting with him! All she just wants is a compelling conversation with someone (because the Lord knows how much she needs an intellectual to talk to; and suga seems like an intellectual, if his posts are anything to go by).

She unlocks her phone and throws herself onto her bed. Normally, her lips quirk up automatically in response to seeing his name pop on her notifications, but it is not the case for this time. Instead, a frown mars her forehead as she reads his comment.

agust-d: the story’s great, but I think it would be better if the story ended like this

For a moment, she can’t believe her eyes. She blinks a few more times in the hope that her eyes were just playing tricks on her. Nada, it remains the same. 

If there’s one thing to know about her, it’s that she meticulously plans out every detail in her stories. She even spends weeks to outline a draft, and even then, it must be decent enough before she puts it in writing. Publishing her works online, for all the world to see, still intimidates her even after all this time. Not knowing how people will respond to her works frightens her, but what is life without a little fear?

In addition, she’s receptive to constructive criticisms, but criticisms that come from those she looks up to? It’s a bitter pill to swallow sometimes. Suga—he’s become one of those people, and seeing his comment really hurt. She turns her phone off and does her chores for the time being. The moment she logs back in, she is taken aback by the multitude of comments expressing the same sentiment. 

bubbleboy: “Yeah, I agree, I think it would be best if the story ended in this manner.” 

She can’t help but feel the bubble of anger gradually rising. Another even started with, 

orange-gloss: “No offense, but the ending being suggested by others is kinda good.” 

The audacity and the entitlement in this comment! Asking her to not be offended when it is within her right to take offense is absolutely laughable. Furthermore, who are you to even tell me how I should react? 

When she reaches the 20th comment, she explodes. The next two hours find her furiously typing out a decent response disguised as a story, albeit with passive-aggressiveness, addressed to all of the comments, but primarily to the one left by Suga. She talks to the rude commenters with the sweet addition of a phrasing 101 lesson. In her contained rage, she ends with the note: remember, it doesn’t hurt to be nice, and if you have qualms about how I ended my own story, do me and yourself a favor and write your own story!

She makes up her mind to take some time off her blog for a while. But after a familiar notification pops up at 5 PM, she resists the urge to run away and instead, opts to open the messages he sent.

agust-d: i’ll admit, the way I said it was rude

agust-d: but I stand with what I said

agust-d: you should consider the possibility as well

seen

(In hindsight, she realizes that, for once, Suga’s comment surpasses 25 words.)

—

4. 

After the whole debacle with the barrage of rude comments and her consequent outburst, everything has never been the same. Understandably, some of her fans have left since then, but the majority stayed with her and for that, she’s eternally grateful. Although she still publishes her stories and interacts with her followers, a certain emptiness fills her at times. 

A part of her thinks it has a lot to do with Suga, who she doesn’t talk to anymore. She… doesn’t know how to respond to him after her outburst. In a span of a moment, she manages to both defend her honor and drag agust-d through the mud, which was never her intention to begin with. Okay, well, maybe just a little bit. But she’s hurt, so it only makes sense to retaliate.

If only she could easily strike back in her current situation. 

Unbeknownst to her, someone with the handle void-mayo tags her on a malicious post the night before, calling her out for being fake. Apparently, she’s a ‘copycat writer wanna-be with no real ideas of her own.’

She only discovers it when her followers start sending her messages of reassurance and appreciation. Of course, she checks the post at once, reading carefully and taking in everything that was written. (Shit, at least I have a better username, she muses). And not for the first time, she feels hurt, uneasy, and anxious at the same time. Void-mayo is already an established writer, with years of exposure under her belt and a large army of rabid fans at her disposal. Meanwhile, she’s just started her writing blog. And although she’s diligent, thorough, and ensures that each of her stories has its own personality and flavor, most of void-mayo’s fans wouldn’t care. She can’t risk losing her credibility over a baseless accusation such as this! 

And with that, she feels anger bubbling from the pit of her stomach. She doesn’t get the purpose behind the destructive post. She gets humiliated, her reputation tarnished, and worse just because she had written a similar scene with an ice cream . It certainly doesn’t help that others are quick to join in calling her names and ‘cancelling her’ without even bothering to check the facts. 

And as she contemplates on how to proceed with such a delicate situation, her dashboard refreshes. At the top, she notices that agust-d reblogs void-mayo’s post with the addition of his response and for once, the word count exceeds 100.

—

5. 

In a roundabout way of saying sorry and expressing her gratitude, she proceeds to write the ending Suga requested. And illuminated by the dim light of her laptop screen, she can begrudgingly admit that he does have a point; his version of the ending does make sense.

—

fin.

—

omake

agust-d: so am i forgiven yet?

you: i don’t know

you: maybe you’ll have to make it up to me

you: and get me some coffee first?

you: 😉

—

a/n pt. 2: happiest birthday to you again! i’m so grateful to have met you in this lifetime. truly, like you’re the best. even if your internet connection’s always shitty, you always find ways to join our chats and discord parties. just thank you, for all the countless laughs that i’ve had with (and because of) you, for the counsel with my writing, and for the stories and advice you’ve willingly shared with us. here’s to our three years of friendship and counting! i love you so much! enjoy this day and stay safe! 

p.s. keep rocking and keep writing! we’ll always be here with you! muah! ❤️❤️❤️

p.p.s. hihi 🦆🍄

#birthday fic #for #vanaera #this is the first fic i've finished writing #my own fic #omg #also #all the uns in this fic are for comedic relief #esp void-mayo #from stardew valley #bts #min yoongi #fic

[fencheto]

Forbidden - Chapter 5

The story can also be found on Wattpad You can find the previous chapters here Feedback is greatly appreciated.

#Dimon #dimonshippers #simon cowell #demi lovato #fanfiction #romantic

[endlessly-elizabeth]

I came across a video on YouTube tonight that put something important into perspective for me. The video asked strangers a simple question: “What’s the most painful thing you’ve been told?” I watched the entire video, equally intrigued and pained by each person’s story. Many of the stories were common--loss of love, criticism of one’s appearance, and/or intelligence..which I found to be relatable. I found an odd sort of comfort in hearing about these struggles, knowing that some of mine have been similar. I was most surprised by a couple people who voiced that the worst thing said to them involved their mental health and how it somehow made them less lovable as people. Who says that? What kind of mean-spirited, heartless person says that to another human being? 

It got me thinking--what’s the worst thing someone has said to me? I thought the answer would be “easy.” I thought I would immediately have some kind of flashback to a moment in time when someone said something so rude and careless to me, but I actually found it difficult. Not one specific instance jumped out at me, I was a victim of bullying throughout my middle and high school years. I was made fun of for my weight, for my level of attractiveness, for being “too weird.” I was terrorized by one kid in particular who had a sister in my brother’s grade when he was going through some serious medical problems. He told my classmates that if my brother had as many problems as he did, I must have them, too. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, right? 

Those years were hard. They undoubtedly caused a lot of unhealthy thoughts to fester in my brain, some of which are still heavily ingrained to this day. I felt less attractive and less special than girls who were my equals. Those insecurities helped prevent me from truly branching out and meeting new people, because I always doubted whether or not they would like me. I avoided men and male contact in general, fearing that I wasn’t pretty enough to keep one genuinely interested in me. And honestly? It hasn’t completely gone away, even though I am many years removed from that time of my life.

So, I continued to ask myself: what is the most painful thing someone has told me? I had been called fat. Ugly. Weird. Annoying. I have experienced unrequited feelings with people I was interested in, just like everyone else. That’s when it hit me. The end of 2017 was the start of what I call: the year of the downward spiral. I had recently gotten out of a... let’s just call it a relationship. After years of having feelings for someone and getting to a place where we gave our feelings a shot, shit hit the fan. We just couldn’t make the other person happy anymore, despite our feelings. It’s true what they say--sometimes love just isn’t enough. 

So two or three days before Christmas, my family got into a huge fight. And I mean HUGE. It ended with me in tears, grabbing my car keys and getting drunk and staying out until I could reasonably drive myself home safely, easily at 2-3 am. I can’t remember exactly what sparked the controversy, but I remember distinctly standing in the kitchen and my brother said, “You’ve never been in a relationship or been in love. You don’t know anything about those type of feelings.” I felt my forehead wrinkle, my lips get tight, and my eyes well with tears. What did my brother know about my love life? What could he possibly know about my feelings, their strength, and the history I had with people? He didn’t--my brother and I aren’t close. I didn’t share much with him other than things he might have overheard me talk about with my mom or things he may have heard when I’d been on the phone with friends.

He said it to be mean. He knew I just got out of a situation with someone, who I was very much still in love with. In the three or four weeks after the breakup, I had stayed home significantly more, locked in my room, and basically shut everyone out. He knew I was in some kind of pain, but he took advantage during an entirely different argument to break my spirit. It took me weeks, maybe even months to talk to him about anything after that. I hated how condescending he was acting just because he was in a relationship. While he might have more experience in being in a relationship, I knew that I had “dated” more than he had. More people of the opposite sex were interested in me. At times, there were guys who fought with eachother over their feelings for me. Did I feel the need to remind him of those facts? No. I didn’t feel the need to tear him down. I think it hit me so hard because that was my first time really dealing with heartbreak and trying to figure out who I was again, and during a time when someone would normally lean on family members, I just wasn’t expecting to hear those words. My brother’s words cut deep, and stung in a way that I’ll likely never forget.

What it also put into perspective for me is just how mean we can be to ourselves, as well. Just because someone called me a “whale” one time, why do I still think about it to this day? Why do I strive to be thinner and wear more makeup because someone said I was ugly ten years ago? Why do I tell myself I’m not good enough for a new guy I’m talking to, and wind up talking myself right out of pursuing things? Sometimes we have to realize that we are part of the problem. We give into the negative comments which leads to negative thinking, and negative thinking can lead to permanent thought processes. Negative talk is a form of self loathing. And negative talk is one of the most painful things we can say to or think about ourselves. What good can come from it? Every time I look in the mirror and am dissatisfied with one part of my appearance, I’m condoning the negative thinking. I’m being mean to myself and putting myself down for no reason, and I know I’m not the only one who does this. We can do better. We need to BE better.

But that video just made me realize that people can be downright cruel. And for what reason? Does it honestly make someone feel better if he or she puts down another person? It CAN feel good, I know that. No one is immune to making rude comments about others. I’m guilty of it myself, from time to time. But I’ve also been in a position where my reputation has been challenged due to other people talking poorly of me, and that was tough. It taught me how to be the bigger person and to take the high road--not to tear others down just because they were trying to hurt me. It made me want to be a better person. To judge less. To love more. Judgment is taught at a young age and it’s something that will always be a part of our society. I guess you could say it’s just human nature. But it doesn’t have to be. We don’t have to put others down. We don’t have to be mean just because we have the ability to be. Kindness is a choice. And I never want to be the reason why someone is dissatisfied with him/herself. I never want something that I’ve said to be the most painful thing ever said to someone. I refuse to be.

#personal #me #late night thoughts #kindness

[mysticscanlations]

I have already read all the backstory about YW and still I don't like the guy at all (I really wish that HB goes to America and finds a person that really appreciate and loves him, not some a***ole like YW), once again sorry to all the YW lovers, but try to be realistic about him for a minute, the only good thing about him is his undeniable love for his mother, being handsome shouldn't be enough to forget all the damage hi has caused so far to wonderful people (JM and HB).

Why I still don’t like him? well, first: a shitty childhood can’t be enough to forgive all the actions of YW until this point, so If he steals his friend’s jar all shall be forgiven ‘cos he is a child and he’s just jealous?, sorry but nothing excuse a person to steal another person possession and what is more amazing is how he is totally incapable of some sort of empathy with other people feelings, he has always thought about himself and his mother without thinking about how all his actions have hurt a lot of people in the process (Semi, JB, JM) and he actually doesn´t even care, so why exactly should YW be liked? all because of his face? that’s all you look for in your SO? I don’t think so. 

Second: in ch 84 is evident that all for him is a game and he just want something fun to past the time, because he’s always bored and needs some new entertaiment (HB in this case T_T), he admits it “at the start, it was a joke” so he didn’t kiss HB out of love (be realistic, he wanted to make HB nervous and he succeded, he wasn’t think “oh, how cute looks HB or I kind of like him”, nope, everything was a big fat joke to him, har har ¬_¬).

Third: I don´t really care if after that kiss he began to fall in love or whatever, the facts are that he toyed from the begining with HB insecurities and feelings, is that a good start for a relationship? then, let´s keep going, they start dating, so why not use a girl and her feelings for me to date another guy without suspicions, great plan, ‘cos that’s what YW wanted at the time, meanwhile HB’s father finds out about their relationship and I’m totally sure he threatens his own son and beat him up a few times (ch 21 flashback can be a perfect example of what HB had to endure to be with YW), and after all that drama YW realizes that the most important thing is his mother and his future, so nothing else matters, even after all the suffering HB has to go through for his selfish whim. 

Fourth: so because of YW arrogance and confidence about HB’s feelings for him, after thinking for a while, he just breaks up with him in the most painful possible way for HB, and when he finally realizes about the progress in JM and HB relationship, YW finally understand that HB is not a puppy that will wait all his life to get his feelings returned, not HB, he’s a normal guy and one’s life should go on, you can’t possible expect that a person’s love will continue forever and ever without the right nourishment (and even less when he was throw away to be picked up later without even knowing the oh so great plan of YW), that’s not how it works and if YW really thought that HB will be his puppet and will dance to his rhythm he was awfully mistaken and now he has pay the price, what really satisfies me. 

To summarize I can’t like a person that starts an homosexual relationship with an innocent and lonely guy just for fun (YW has mentioned a couple of times that HB is funny and fun to be with), makes him go through rough times with his violent father, then breaks up with him but when someone else show interest in him, he just made up with him as if nothing had happened and expects that all goes just the way he wants until the end without really understanding the pain and sorrow of HB, and actually has the nerve to tell his mother that “I foolishly looked past how much she(he) was hurting”, sorry but he is just a pretty a***ole to me.)

OH MY LORD ANON YOU WROTE A BOOK I RESPECT YOU. okay hold on i’m gonna try and respond to everything i can cause this is really interesting! i’ll answer them in the order of the reasons you listed to make things less messy ^^;; i’m also putting this under a cut cause it’s gonna be SO LONG

1) for me, i think author-nim showed yoo won’s back story to really drive home one thing aside from furthering the plotline/giving insight into his background: it was to show that yoo won was a character with flaws as well. of course, stealing the jar wasn’t a bright idea, and it shouldn’t be something to be waved off because “he was just a kid”. but it showed that yoo won, this person we’ve been seeing as this perfect and beautiful guy everyone admires in the present timeline, also has had his low points. he’s made mistakes and that makes him more human. in terms of his lack of empathy, i put that all on the circumstances he was put through. i mean, this kid was in fifth grade when his so-called first friend beat him up in front of his class, got completely ignored by everyone, and even openly teased by others in front of the teacher without repercussions. his personality drastically changed after that, and i think that made him sort of numb to others around him ever since he started closing himself off from anyone getting too close. and we can’t forget the reason why he’s started to only focus on his mother is because dong rae, the person who completely changed his life, gave him that one piece of advice before leaving: to live for only one thing and bury the rest in your heart. yoo won undoubtedly chose his mother, and has been following dong rae’s mantra all the way into his college years. he isn’t intentionally ignoring how his actions might be affecting others, i just think he’s grown used to not attuning himself to others since he lost his trust in their sincerity because of past issues

2) i can see how this kiss could be controversial since it’s evident that yoo won wasn’t taking this whole “wanna go out” thing seriously, but i still think there was some genuine interest on his part when he went in to kiss hee bum. HONESTLY, i don’t think he’d planned on going as far as kissing him until hee bum asked “but why do you want to date me?”. his internal monologue proved that when he stated that had hee bum not asked that question, he would’ve just been another hoobae yoo won liked to tease. so yeah, although him starting it off as a joke wasn’t really a romantic (or nice) start, i don’t think yoo won did everything for the sole purpose of messing with hee bum, since he has shown a lot of interest in getting closer to hee bum prior to this. 

3) even if eldo’s claims that she was used as a shield were true, in the end i still think she still had the choice of breaking away from that role if she chose to. yes, yoo won might have had asked eldo to hang occasionally because it seemed more natural as a trio, but eldo also decided that she would pretend to get along with hee bum because she wanted to get yoo won’s attention. and in terms of hee bum’s dad (who i hate), i definitely don’t think yoo won was completely blind to the abuse. yoo won mentioned that even when the dad did find out, hee bum didn’t say anything about breaking up because he still wanted to be with yoo won. i can’t put the blame on yoo won for that, that’s all on his dad for being a terrible and abusive person. and don’t forget that yoo won did try to break it off with hee bum at the beginning. hee bum was the one who was completely in denial that they would break up, even chasing yoo won down to the academy to try and get back together. it wasn’t as if yoo won was forcing hee bum to stay in a relationship with him regardless of the abuse he was going through. hee bum was even more adamant on staying together.

4) this one confused me a bit because hee bum was the one who broke it off with yoo won, not the other way around. but you’re right that yoo won getting dumped was when he realized that hee bum wouldn’t be waiting around for him in the back, constantly giving him love. i think that realization is an important starting point for yoo won to address that he’s really closed himself off too much from others, even hee bum, while trying to prioritize his mother’s health and happiness. for me, i saw it as a precursor for yoo won to really develop in terms of how he treats others and putting the whole “throw away everything but one single thing” idea into a new perspective. i don’t particularly think yoo won is a bad person for this, though. just a pitiful person. he grew up believing he couldn’t really rely on anyone and followed the last advice given from a major significant figure in his childhood, and that led to the distant and whimsical way he was treating his relationship with hee bum.

5) but while it might have started off as a joke, like yoo won said, they did seem to develop to the point where both of them were equally committed to the relationship. i don’t think hee bum was forced into it, since he has the personality and nature to easily rebuff and back away from something he doesn’t like. i definitely don’t think yoo won made hee bum go through his father’s abuse. it’s not like yoo won told hee bum’s dad to hit hee bum for being in a relationship with him. even still, hee bum kept pushing to pursue the relationship even after yoo won broke up with him. for the last subpoint, i do think this only happens because of miscommunication on both ends. yoo won had the belief that hee bum would always be there for him and so he didn’t put much effort in maintaining that relationship because of it. but hee bum also never really voiced his concerns to yoo won. all those things about “feeling like he loved yoo won more than yoo won loved him” and being upset about it - these were all things he told jumi, not yoo won. i think yoo won was oblivious to just how much it was bothering hee bum because he never even mentioned it around him, which is why he kept thinking that hee bum was still in love with him and that everything was perfectly fine. that’s why i think they both need to talk to each other, fully and openly, so that these issues stop driving them apart.

THIS GOT SO LONG BUT ANON I REALLY LOVE DISCUSSING THINGS LIKE THIS SO THANK YOU. please feel free to send more asks if you want to continue to the conversation ^^ or anyone can feel free to add/comment to this post! i love reading analysis stuff on stories i love ahh

#ask #anon #analysis

[realrhythmskrp]

DISPATCH, (04/19/17): BKB Entertainment has officially released information about leader and main vocalist, Kim Wonseok, on PARAL/L’s official website! Wonseok is a ‘90 liner and has been beloved by fans since his debut in 2011. Find out more about Wonseok below!

I, KIM WONSEOK, have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of LEADER and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of BKB ENTERTAINMENT.

OOC INFORMATION

Preferred name: Ji

Pronouns: she/her

Timezone: GMT+1

Other muses: N/A

Password (for reservations only): dangerous

Skype: N/A :c

IC INFORMATION

Faceclaim: Lee Kikwang of Highlight

Name: Kim Wonseok

Stage name (if applicable): N/A

Idol concept: At first, his concept was supposed to be that of a ‘church oppa’ – with the kind boy next door vibe. That, however, conflicted with the controversies he soon got wrapped up in so it was quickly changed to something more fitting (and thus believable): the grandpa. Still kind, still caring, but also stereotypically straightforward yet measured. Wonseok welcomed the change because he no longer has to feel like he’s wearing a mask most of the time, since the new concept is much closer to his real personality. Of course there are tweaks here and there, a lot of things held back and plenty of feigned smiles but that is inevitable in the business. While never entirely relaxed, he is no longer on edge everytime a camera is around and can thus show a more natural side of him, which allows jokes to come easier too and has overall increased his popularity. If he’s honest, he thinks some of the controversies could have been avoided if the company had introduced him as the grandfather from the start, as people would have known not to misunderstand his dry and occasionally cynical comments. Or maybe it wouldn’t have changed a thing – he’s not so naive as to believe that the public won’t find a reason to dislike someone no matter what they do.

Birth date and age: March 30th, 1990 – 27

Company name: BKB Entertainment

Group Name (if applicable): PARAL/L

Group Position (if applicable): leader

Strengths:  His biggest strength no doubt lies in his vocal prowess. Naturally gifted with a unique but pleasant voice, he is said to possess 'caramel vocal chords’, which he has been rigorously training since his early teens. Thus, he has acquired stability in both lower and higher registers and can usually belt out notes without any straining whatsoever. After all, his vocals are the one thing the public most often praises him for.

Although most of it happens behind the scenes, Wonseok’s leadership qualities are notable as well. Half a decade into their career, the group is still his top priority and he believes the secret to their lasting success is maintaining harmony among the members, which is what he works towards at all times. Here, he’s always trying to keep every member’s best interest in mind to find a common goal for everyone. He also firmly believes in solving problems as they arise as not to let a wound fester.

While his sense of humor is what got him into most of the controversies he was involved in so far, it’s also the only reason why he always gets invited on variety shows again anyway. Cynical, witty, honest and dry, he’s a valuable asset to any talk show – as long as it isn’t geared towards children, anyway.

Despite everything, he is highly motivated to keep going. Making music is still what he wants to do for a living and that knowledge helps him pull through whatever difficulties he faces in the business more easily, be it working without a break for months or enduring the hate he receives.

Weaknesses:  Tying in with his affinity for talk formats, he is an exceptionally bad match for shows that require body gags, aegyo, or anything else of the sort. It’s embarrassing, in his opinion, and a field he gladly leaves for the other, younger members. Acting falls into this category too and is hence something he has little to no interest in doing (with the exception of musicals!).

Of course he is not a bad dancer, per se, just not much of a natural either. PARAL/L’s choreographies are never easy and he certainly doesn’t mess them up, but that requires hours upon hours upon hours of practice every single time, so staying behind at the practice room and pulling all-nighters to avoid messing up has become a habit.

Generally not a negative trait but very much so for an idol, Wonseok is a bad liar - to a large part also because he despises doing so. As such, he is sometimes too honest. There are only two options: he either doesn’t mention something at all (be it scandals or secrets), or he tells the truth.

For someone who spends as much time worrying about the feelings of other people as he does, he’s not in tune with his own. He has a hard time opening up to people and tends to internalize everything. Sometimes, it actually takes him a while to figure them out because he is too focused on something else at the time. For example, he could get into a fight with his little sister in the morning, then go to work like nothing happened and only feel bothered by it at night, once he settles down.

Positive traits: diligent, empathetic, quick-witted

Negative traits: stoic, self-conscious, workaholic

PERSONAL HISTORY

1 year old and resolute - “That boy will grow up to be just like his father. Stubborn as a mule.” Baby Kim Wonseok is yelling over everything his grandmother is saying and foolish as people are around children, his family is taking it as a good sign; one of strength and energy. He’s just hungry but that isn’t nearly as impressive so no one wants to hear it – and he keeps yelling.

7 years old and calm - “You’ll run for school president, right?” His mother is not so much asking as she is demanding as they’re sharing the dinner table for once. He’s in elementary school, an only child, his father is a surgeon and his mother is a lawyer (and no one knows how and if that works). Ironically, little Wonseok is the one they expect to do great things. His father comes home and goes to sleep. His mother comes home and nags. Wonseok comes home and does everything. Cooking, cleaning, his homework, then studying. “We have your nanny for that,” his mother scolds him often. What she doesn’t understand is that it is the only time of relaxation he has, doing menial tasks and not using his head for once. As long as he performs well and remains in the top three of his school, she doesn’t care very much. She just likes complaining, he thinks and lets her. Her job is stressful.

10 years old and empathetic - “You don’t understand. You’re part of the most perfect family of Gimhae,” his best friend reprimands him during one of their regular joined study sessions, which they’re using for games more often than not. His parents are getting a divorce and he’s right – Wonseok doesn’t know what that’s like. His parents are still together somehow, though he doesn’t see much of it except for when they all go to church together on Sundays. In fact, his mother is currently pregnant again. He doesn’t know the feeling of losing one’s anchor, of having to let go one or the other, of fearing a change that will make everything different and weird and wrong. He doesn’t know it but that doesn’t mean he can’t help and offer to be at least one constant.

12 years old and bold – “You’re scary, like one of those ruthless businessmen in dramas my mom likes to watch.” Again, Wonseok can count on his best friend to call him out. His baby sister is the sunshine of his life and he can’t help but feel like he’s her parent more than their biological ones. Measured by the amount of time he spends with her and effort he puts in, he is more than they will ever be. At home, he is bright and caring and buzzing with energy. Outside, he’s become quiet as he has lost sight of everything but academics and the things his parents deem important and worthy of his attention. He doesn’t speak much and it’s been a long time since he’s last made a new friend – since he’s last spoken to anyone without needing anything from them or vice versa, actually. His best friend is right, undoubtedly, and Wonseok decides that he doesn’t want to become a robot and signs up for choir instead of the math athletes.

14 years old and tired - “We get that this is puberty. Your rebellious phase. We paid for vocal and piano lessons; we were understanding. But an idol? Out of the question. Snap out of it, Kim Wonseok.” His mother means well, he knows, she just likes complaining. She’s worried because it is an uncertain future, not one of the most stable and secure careers out there and she thinks he’s cut out for more than that. Not the first thing about how he feels more alive on stage than he ever has off it or how he’s finally coming out of his shell again reaches her ears. Feelings aren’t something they talk about in this household. His mother means well, he knows, but people can do the worst things with the best intentions.

16 years old and headstrong - “We’ve never interfered in who you choose to spend your time with but that Jaeyoung is below you, son. You don’t want that to reflect badly upon the family, right?” His father dislikes Wonseok’s best friend because he’s gay. Of course he does, as the loyal church-goer he is, pretending to pray to a God he really doesn’t know anything about. At this point, he is beyond caring. He’s had enough. This is it, he thinks and packs his bags, bids farewell to his beloved little sister who doesn’t understand what he’s saying and leaves behind his hometown for the uncertainty that is his future in Seoul, his happiness in music.

19 years old and determined - “When are you coming back?”, his sister asks and he can’t answer. Time passes and not much changes. Wonseok has never quite found back to who he was before the expectations and responsibilities but he’s happy nowadays. His career isn’t going anywhere since he signed with BKB Entertainment three years prior but he’s not one to give up easily or be knocked down by harsh words during an evaluation. This is the path he’s chosen and he’s going to walk it all the way to the end, wherever it may lead, so he sweats and bleeds and smiles through it all.

21 years old and hardworking - “And today’s Winner is��� PARAL/L, congratulations!” Finally, he has debuted as the leader of PARAL/L and is met with an overwhelming amount of success right away. It’s hard to grasp and he tells the others not to let it go to their heads while carrying on like nothing has changed himself, staying behind to practice whenever they don’t have a schedule and sleeping almost exclusively in the van that brings them from one show to the next. On the inside, he’s feeling it all but he’s the leader and he knows that it falls to him to make sure everyone stays focused. This is only the beginning, after all. He wonders if his parents are watching.

24 years old and mature - “It makes me so angry that they keep misunderstanding things just for the sake of making you look bad!” His sister has read news articles about him before he has bothered checking them. They always say the same thing anyway. Usually, people like him for his sense of humor and the way he jokes around with people, always teasing, a bit gruff but never malicious. Wonseok never minces his words but he makes sure not to hurt anyone’s feelings nevertheless. At least he tries to, since that is the last thing he wants. Netizens are not as forgiving as his colleagues who raise an eyebrow at him, then see his grin and laugh along with him. Netizens like to think he’s mean and perhaps narcissistic. They don’t care that there are a thousand scenes proving the exact opposite. It’s not the first time this has happened, so he swallows his feelings and doesn’t comment on the issue. That method has proven effective. It’ll blow over; it always does.

27 years old and unchanging - “You’ll go solo afterwards, right?” His mother is not so much asking as she is demanding. Same old. After he has become successful, they have deemed him no longer a shame to the family and accepted him back as one of their own. Wonseok doesn’t blame them for the people they’ve become; he doesn’t like it but it isn’t entirely their fault either. The future, once again, is uncertain now that their contract is ending soon – only one more year until the big decision. Personally, he’s very attached to the group that has made his dreams a reality and the friends who have stayed with him throughout it all, but not so much the company that treats them as marionettes rather than humans. His journey is not at an end, that much he knows for sure, and making music is still his happiness and his dream. In the end, it will depend on what the others want to do. Ideally, Wonseok would like to transfer to a different label as a whole, as PARAL/L, but he would never force the others (or anyone) into something they don’t want for themselves.

#ryt:accepted #ryt:bkb #ryt:paral/l #rytwonseok

[raisingsupergirl]

I Voted for Trump, and It's Okay

My name is Andrew Winch, and I voted for Donald Trump. Yes, it's true. And I'm here to tell you, it's okay. At this, I know some of you will pump your fist and yell, "'Merica!" while others have likely already stopped reading. And that's okay, too. At least, it's starting to be okay.

Wait, wait, wait. Before your knee-jerk reaction takes control like it has for the past six months, why don't you sit back and actually consider what I'm saying before you prepare to tear apart my seemingly lukewarm stance on such an all-important topic. First, let me tell you why I voted for him in the first place.

Healthcare. It's what I do. I'm a physical therapist. I started PT school in 2004, graduated in 2009, and I've been practicing ever since. Needless to say, I've been on the front lines of the business, and I've seen some significant changes in insurance coverage. Now, this isn't a discussion on specific legislation (or politics at all, really, which is the whole point). Instead, I only assert that healthcare coverage overall has taken a very poor turn since the attempt to make it universal. And frankly, I needed a change. 

The funny thing is, I wanted to see what universal healthcare could do in this country. In fact (so I can be sure to offend ALL of my readers now), I helped vote in Obama on his first term for that sole reason. That's what happens when someone doesn't pick a side. He's free to make the wrong choice regardless of color (red or blue, people. Get your heads out of the gutter). 

So why am I saying all of this now? Well, it all started with a Facebook post about a week ago. It had to do with a Trump Tweet in which he promised that "we" would still build The Great Wall of 'Merica because of Mexico’s imminent threat to our safety, and how I was finally starting to doubt his political sanity. But regardless of my stance (I've already stated that it's infinitely flawed, and I am whatever the complete opposite of a politician is), what really interests me are the responses to my post. Oh, the glorious responses!

What was so amazing about them, you ask? It's simple. No one said anything offensive. None of my friends cussed out a complete stranger. No one got blocked or unfriended. A bunch of my friends just posted opposing ideas and thoughts, debated a little, then shook virtual hands and walked away. It was amazing. And it's something that never would have happened three months ago.

You all know what I'm talking about. The mass hysteria. The drawing of battle lines. The panic attacks, the violent protests, and the general breakdown of our country's unified patriotism. If a person wasn't taking a hard stance for or against, he was deemed lazy. If he refused to approach every conversation like a competition, he was written off. And as a result, we're all beginning to feel the beginning effects of national PTSD. 

It was all so exciting at first, wasn't it? The drama. The intrigue. The unpredictable future. And with social media breaking down those pesky social norms that assured basic mutual respect, we were free to fuel the fire without seeing the infuriated look on our friend's face. Until that awkward moment when we saw them in real life. Who would have thought? 

Humans as a species are a little slow on the uptake. We're so used to having control of our environment that we assume the natural progress of society, technology, etc. is a good thing (or at least a neutral thing), and it almost always takes seeing the ugly outcomes to realize what we're really doing. And thankfully, I think America, as a whole, is starting to see how crazy the whole thing was. Sure, I still have "click bait" friends that will always prod hot-button topics (either for exposure or amusement), and I did see a bumper sticker the other day saying, "Life's a B!$*#. Don't Elect One," with a picture of Hillary's face on it, but I'm hoping it was just too much trouble to scrape off. I'm hoping that the growing sense of sober-mindedness that I'm seeing in daily life and on the interwebs is the beginning of our country's reunification.

Okay, I get that I'm incredibly naïve. I understand that a bipartisan system will forever force people to take sides, that a president as controversial as Trump will ensure tension for as long as he's in office, and that having strong opinions isn't a bad thing. But no one can deny the harmful backlash that came from the public's hysteria, especially now that we're taking a collective breath and remembering what it's like to see the world through clear eyes. Again, I'm saying nothing of the plethora of political topics here, as important as they undoubtedly are. I'm just celebrating the glimmer of hope for the future of our country. That glimmer of hope that we celebrate every July 4th. We are one nation, for better or worse (lookin' at you, Illinois. Just kidding… kind of), and I'm happy to live in a country where I can be honest about my vote (for better or worse). So lets all grab our bottle rockets, burgers, bullets, and beer, and somehow try not to kill each other. Whatta ya say?

#donald trump #trump #obamacare #4th of July #independence day #patriotism #politics #facebook #twitter #acceptance #momblr #mumblr #dadblr

[thirdpoliceman]

A Preface: On Qualifications

To preface, there is nothing objective I can tell you about The Third Policeman that you can’t find on its Wikipedia page, or its Lostpedia page, or its page on whatever other ‘pedias are out there. This blog doesn’t exist to discuss the history of the novel by Brian O’Nolan (a/k/a Flann O’Brien) or trivia surrounding its writing, publication, critical reception, or plot details. Rather, its aim is even lower: to provide the reader with my subjective opinions and other thoughts, had while reading the novel and shared in a series of posts relating to the novel’s various bits, arranged in sequential order from its beginning to its end.

About the novel generally, I will discuss the plot in my posts to come on the book. Other than that, suffice it to be said it was written in 1939-40, but was not published until 1967, a year after its author’s death. Whether Mr. O’Brien had to sign a deal with Satan to publish the novel in exchange for his life is uncertain, and I don’t intend to teach the controversy here. But for all those aspiring writers out there, note the lesson in this: You may have to literally die for your work to be published, so work hard, drink heavily, smoke, and don’t exercise because the sooner you die, the sooner you will be published.

Of course, by the time of his death, Mr. O’Nolan/Brien was a well-known author who had had several other of his widely varying works published and critically praised. So perhaps the lesson is actually: If you die as a successful author, they will publish all your leftover, unpublished shit and sing its praises lest they be accused of spitting on your grave. In that case, you should probably work hard, drink in moderation, don’t smoke, and try to get away from the keyboard an exercise because they won’t publish your really cool stuff unless you get successful while you’re alive and that takes time.

You’ll have to decide which lesson to choose. You should probably choose the latter lesson though, because if you choose the former and are wrong, then you are dead and have a very limited opus from which your posthumous publishers will get to choose. And really, why would they publish anything of yours? Moreover, you will have had very little if any chance to enjoy success during your life. On the plus side, you will get to party balls.

If you choose the latter option you will get to live a long, somewhat fulfilling life, and will produce a lot of writing. And even if the only people who read it are your wife, children, and three lonely guys on Tumblr, you will have achieved something. The bad part there is—and you should have seen this coming a mile away—it is boring and hard.

I can’t offer any guidance on which lesson to take from the posthumous publication of Mr. Nolan/O’Brien’s masterwork. I only explain the lessons.

But back to the book. The Third Policeman received some favorable reviews at the time of its publication, and various critics have revisited it since then, with the consensus seeming to be that is one of the finest and earliest examples of postmodern meta-fiction. However, outside of certain marijuana-favoring literary circles the book has largely done its labor of existing in obscurity, with the exception being a brief period around 2005.

It was then that a copy of the book appeared a couple of times in the background of the hit ABC television show, Lost. You see, by 2005, many people had DVRs, then widely known as “TiVOs.” Also, many people were obsessed by Lost and would pause the show during repeated watchings to look for clues in the sets to further understand the show’s multifaceted, stoner-bait plot and backstory.

When The Third Policeman was spotted in the show, rumors of its relevancy to Lost circulated on the show’s numerous internet forums. (I know its fora. And if you’re reading this, you’re probably the kind of person who is saying that to yourself right now.) In interviews, the show’s creators and writers confirmed that the book influenced the show in some important way. How it influenced the show was never made clear, however. What’s more, several writers admitted they hadn’t even read the book. Thus, it seems that The Third Policeman’s influence on Lost was just some random bullshit inserted in the show to drive audience mania for all things Lost and to “keep ‘em guessing.” This lame, cynical trick largely worked because it was said that The Third Policeman sold more copies in three weeks of 2005 than it had in the preceding six years.

I will freely admit that my interest in the book arose during its brief popular heyday during Lost mania. I never saw then and have never seen to this day a single episode of Lost. However, I had read about Lost and the mentions of The Third Policeman stoked my curiosity.

Sometime around 2009, I finally got around to reading it. I liked it mainly because it seemed like something cool to be able to tell people I had read, especially people into Lost. Also, it was short and I was working a lot at that time, so I could not get into a long book. Finally, it actually was good. It was weird and interesting and funny, and seemed to me like the kind of book I would write if I got around to writing a book, by which I mean it was discursive, meta, plainly written, clever, and totally absurd.

It was so absurd that I wondered about a man who could dedicate so many hours to writing a book so disconnected from anything obviously connected to reality, including any concepts or emotions that people would actually feel in their lives. But I liked that he had, and it gave me hope that I could too, though I haven’t yet.

Of course, a lot of critics seem to say the book does have a lot to say about religion, philosophy, the nature of good and evil, et cetera. And that may be true. But it takes too much knowledge to understand those references and they are probably just reflections of the critics’ own beliefs anyway. To O’Nolan/Brien, based on the limited quotes from him I have read, it seems more likely The Third Policeman was just a funny book with what he thought was an original plot mechanism and “any amount of scope for back-chat and funny cracks.”

With Lost off the air and twelve years having passed since the show gave The Third Policeman a brief entree into the mainstream, I think now is a good time to give to it what every piece of pop culture needs: a blog solely dedicated to it, written by someone with no particular qualifications. After all, how will the book be remembered in the paperless, Singularity-y future if one of the five hundred million Tumblr pages in the world doesn’t spend a few paragraphs offering my thoughts (a/k/a bullshitting) about each chapter?

Why would you would be interested in my thoughts? Am I even qualified to write this blog? I cannot say. I don’t pretend that my thoughts are insightful, informative, or interesting in any way. Perhaps if you are a high-schooler or undergraduate, you can use them in a book report or similar coursework and call them your own. After all, I am sure this blog will remain utterly unknown so that your plagiarism would go unnoticed. (Note - I do not endorse plagiarism or cheating in any way, but it’s your life, ed.) Whether doing so would raise or lower your grade is your call. I make no guarantees.

Somewhat earnestly, however, I can humbly say that I am qualified to write the blog. I have read The Third Policeman three (!) times. It is one of only a handful of books I have read more than once. Now, to put my expertise in perspective, The Third Policeman (2002 paperback edition from Dalkey Archive Press) is ranked 65,297 in book sales on Amazon.com. I don’t know what that translates to in raw numbers, but Novelrank.com provides some guidance. According to them, The Third Policeman sold 760 copies in 2016 on Amazon.com and less than ten each on the various country-specific Amazon sites listed. Let’s assume that’s typical for the past few years. Let’s further assume that in 2005-06, during the Lost craze, it sold 15,000 copies. Let’s add another 50% of the total each year for book sales from Barnes & Noble online, to be very generous. Then throw in a few dozen more for brick and mortar sales, that number increasing the further one goes back in time, especially before Amazon’s dominance, Borders going out of business, etc. Finally, let’s go back all the way to 1967 when it was published, including an initial burst of sales then. All together, pulling the roughest guess out of my ass, The Third Policeman has sold 75,000 copies in the 47 years since it’s been published.

Those copies have probably been passed around and some reside in libraries, but many others have been thrown away or otherwise lost or destroyed. So, perhaps 350,000 people have actually read The Third Policeman. But many of them have died since 1967. Let’s assume that 300,000 living persons have read The Third Policeman. Of them, perhaps 30,000 read a foreign translation and are not fluent in English. Of the remaining 270,000, I would rest assured that no more than 40,000 have read the book more than once. There are about 7,408,000,000 people in the world today. I am sure more than 1.5 billion of those are children under 18, but let’s assume 1.5 billion kids. That means I am one of 40,000 living English speakers among 5.908 billion adults to have read The Third Policeman more than once. Accordingly, I am more qualified than 99.99932295193% of the population of Earth to write about The Third Policeman.

Further, I have taken notes in the margins. I have written notes out elsewhere by chapter. I have a bachelor of arts degree and a law degree. I am a published author of several dozen humorous essays on three websites (that no longer exist) and have even been paid for my work on one occasion. I feel that adds to my qualifications.

On the other hand, many other English speakers who have read The Third Policeman are undoubtedly English majors, or Literature majors, or have more advanced degrees in those subjects, or are already professional critics or academics in the field of postmodern literature and criticism. I admit this may diminish my relative qualifications somewhat.

But finally, how many of those more qualified than me are or are planning to write criticisms of The Third Policeman? We simply don’t know. But if it comes to that, you are welcome to read the many fine critiques and examinations of The Third Policeman out there if you find this blog insufficiently academic for your uses.

In sum, I think I have the qualifications to write this blog. Nonetheless, if you have doubts about whether this blog will satisfy your longing for meta commentary about The Third Policeman, but are willing to keep an open mind, I urge you to read on. Comment if you wish. Join, if you will, the dwindling fraternal vocation of those that care enough about a largely obscure Irish postmodern novel to spend time out of their finite lives to write about it!

I cannot make any promises about how often I will update the blog, but I promise I will complete it before I die, provided I die of natural causes after the age of sixty-five.

Oh, I should mention that it did just occur to me that if you are reading this, you are almost certainly one of the 200,000 living readers of The Third Policeman. If we’re assuming that is the population we’re drawing from, then I am only in the 20% percentile of qualified bloggers on this subject. That is, admittedly, less impressive than me being in the top 99.99932295193%. So I will give you that if you were doubting my qualifications.

But assuming you have only read it once, then I am still more qualified than you to write this blog! Barely. (Assuming multiple readings equates to greater qualification, which is, admittedly, not certain.) If you have read more than once, though, it is impossible for me to know whether I am more qualified than you to write the blog. I don’t know your educational background or anything else about your qualifications.

And of course, this all assumes there is such a thing as “qualification.” Who decides such a matter? The white patriarchy? Perhaps so. But not many of them are reading this, and fuck us anyway! I mean them! Fuck them! Let’s disperse power. When that is done, the reader should decide whether I am qualified. In that case, if you, the reader, get something out of this and find it to deepen your understanding of The Third Policeman or to cause you to think about it in a new way, then consider me qualified. If not, then I am not qualified.

Maybe. That is, a qualified person could certainly write an unhelpful or unenlightening critique or examination of a book. Less likely, an unqualified person could still come out of nowhere and write a universally acclaimed treatise on something or other. In that case, then doesn’t the whole concept of qualification become worthless? And if so, then shouldn’t every Tumblr blog on a subject be judged on its own merits rather than on the societally-imposed “merits” of its author? Yes. It should. And if not, remember the most important qualification is that I am writing it. As Tenacious D said:

     Kyle Gass: Anybody could have wrote it. Anybody could have done it.

     Jack Black: Yeah, but guess who did write it. Me!

Returning to the subject, with my qualifications established, it is one of my favorite books, but not for its main subject and plot, though I think that is wryly funny in a self-aware way. In the main, The Third Policeman explores many fascinating physical, metaphysical, and even paranormal subjects that now seem, along with its style, to have been ahead of its time considering it was written before World War II. Despite its esotericism, the book also has some timeless insights on human nature.

Rather, my favorite aspect of the book is when it leaves its plot and discusses a totally different, even stranger world than that inhabited by the protagonist. I thoroughly enjoy that O’Brien/Nolan is not afraid of going off on truly absurd and irrelevant tangents, focused on the narrator’s in-novel fascination with the unconventional scientist/philosopher/madman known as De Selby.

In these asides about De Selby, The Third Policeman dives into a meta-universe that is so absurd that it is almost admitted to be fictional even to the book’s narrator, who seems to doubt the reality of half of what he’s conveying about De Selby and his works. And on top of that, there are lengthy discussions of the political machinations among De Selby’s critics and in-depth references to their works. All of this seems to take place in a hazy alternate European timeline that seems to exist in some indeterminate time between 1890 and 1930. (While all this does seem ahead of its time, none of it would seem strange to Laurence Sterne, whose The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, © 1759-67, seems to serve as an inspiration for O’B.’s meta-meanderings.)

At times the narrator seems to go so far as to concede to the audience that these staggeringly irrelevant digressions (usually contained in lengthy footnotes), while comically abstruse, are a complete waste of his and the reader’s time, despite appearing throughout the book. (And if they are a waste of the narrator’s and the reader’s time, think what a waste of time it was for the author.) These wandering pathways off the novel’s story (which are connected to the main plot by only the thinnest, most arbitrary of threads early on) then seem to be nothing but a showcase for the author to engage in whimsical thoughts and worlds that may be amusing only to him, and that alone made it worth his time to write. This, really, is my attraction to the book. Because when I write, I too enjoy absurdism, and hopefully-comic digressions into only tangentially related subjects or meta-subjects, as my mind may dictate.

I always thought this type of writing bordered on insulting the reader, an egotistical exercise in look-at-how-clever I am. But reading The Third Policeman allowed me to see how O’Brien handles his digressions into De Selbyiana, and how, despite being totally irrelevant to the main book, the digressions are immersive and entertaining. This gave me inspiration and some assurance that I, as a writer, don’t need to be constrained by linear storytelling and rules of prose, especially when writing for humor, which is all I really want to do. I can create world’s within world’s in a story or essay. I can follow absurd thoughts to absurd conclusions. I can take asides and write in a conversational way, and pause and go backwards, and pick up where I left off. And I can let my inner absurdist out to play. And if the reader doesn’t like it, then that’s all well.

So for that, I can thank Brian O’Nolan, Flann O’Brien, the protagonist of The Third Policeman, and his soul, Joe, De Selby, Henderson, Hatchjaw, Bassett, Du Garbandier, Kraus, et al. They all gave me the inspiration not only to tackle this blog, but to keep writing how and when I want, whatever my qualifications. I hope anyone who stumbles across this enjoys it and maybe learns something about The Third Policeman and reads it again. And if no one does, I enjoyed writing it. I think that might be how O’Nolan felt when he saw The Third Policeman manuscript for the last time in a drawer in his study before he died, even if he knew that because of his deal with Satan, it would be published two years later.

#thethirdpoliceman #prefaces #thirdpoliceman #flannobrien #brianonolan #deselby

[caredogstips]

The Fat JewaEUR( tm) s ‘Money Pizza Respect’ is the worst notebook IaEUR( tm) ve ever spoke

I wish I liked the Fat Jews new notebook. It would make a far more interesting bit if he surpassed our anticipations. No one I talked to expected it to be good. I gambling he didnt even write it, said one sidekick. I bet he had his interns write it.

To contextualize this for people who arent on the Internet all the time, Josh The Fat Jew Ostrovsky became the center of controversy when he was accused of stealing memes and jokes from humorists this summer. Ostrovsky had been doing this for years, and amassed millions of Instagram admirers with his admittedly good meme aggregating skills. But comedians took a stand when he signed with the flair bureau CAA in August.

Upon interpret Money Pizza Respect , there is no doubt in my knowledge that the unfortunately entitled work is written by the Fat Jew himself; I confidently assert that Money Pizza Respect is singlehandedly the most difficult journal I have ever read.

His actual sense of humorand Im talking about humor , not the memes he aggregatesis dreadfully abject. He relies on a Tucker Max-esque style of storytelling, praising cocaine and alcohol abuse and fucking his groupies, who all represent a different type of crazy daughter stereotype.

In a section ironically titled The Eleven Commandments of Not Being the Worst Person Ever, he counsels readers that if you aggressively and frequently talk about your sexuality life, people will think youre gay. When you tell me that you undertook a slam pig and stuffed her axe wind, he writes, I assume that your actual destination is having anal sexuality with soldiers. Ostrovsky shapes sure to note that the only exception to this rule is Dan Bilzerian, who has literally thrown a woman off his roof, smashing her foot, and been accused of kicking another woman in the look.

Money Pizza Respect is fastened with homophobic statements. He writes a greenback to P. Diddy: Sorry for outing you as a homosexual. Im pretty sure you are, but Im sorry. Theres too a health dosage of sexism, describing his female groupies as a bunch of fours and fives who have monstrous maid sides detest their daddies. To accomplish the trifecta, he likewise manages to be transphobic, referring to transgender maidens as trannies in a section recounting two brothers bachelor party.( When two brothers and pals found out the strippers “whos” causing them lap dances were trans, they left the club immediately .)

Before I satisfied Ostrovsky, I was confused about how he was so successful, especially after reading his book, where he brags about his selfish and generally gross behaviour at every possible instant, proudly presentations pictures of him wearing a thong made out of beef jerky, and writes situations like, Cocaine is the greatest talent the world has ever seen.

When I sat down with him at a press junket, located at an arcade in Chinatown, I immediately understood why hes garnered so much success. He is unfortunately alluring and is actually a naturally funny person. Hes like the refrigerate, mean son in 8th point, the different types who inserted cup to all your best friend and attained merriment of girls for being ugly or not having boobs hitherto. The form who definitely bullied me, and hitherto I tirelessly tried to gain his affection.

During our interview, Ostrovsky remained on the defensive, masterful at answering my doubts with non-answers. He is somebody who has never taken life seriously, which is perhaps not too difficult for a straight, white, affluent male. He is basically interested in his conception of fun, and hopes youll connect him for the travel. If not, fuck off.

Its not that I began to like Ostrovsky or his book any more after converging him, but I extended from disliking him to appearing an iota of sorrow for him. His ostentatiou and unapologetic immaturity, his bratty affect: This is what has brought him success, and what I imagine will be his inevitable downfall.

So my approaching for this interview, because I know a lot of beings have been shitting on you, is to not shit on you .

No ones been shitting on me.

I was curious about how that affected you emotionally, and how you appeared about getting blasted by the media .

It was certainly a shitty situation. Im of the Internet, so its like a lot of beings screaming about thoughts. I respect trolling. I respect beings hollering at one another, which is why the Internet is so fucking great. I definitely didnt take it personally. It was also something that it was necessary to get talked about. Parties were not on the same sheet. Like a 38 -year-old comedy writer and a 16 -year-old Filipino millennial were not considering the questions the same way.

I try to look at it like I was the look of the whole stuff. I intend the Internet is a giant, lawless fuckin thing. Sometimes the work requires some rules But not too many. Because this is gonna be odd. No parents. But you know, sometimes beings get pissed. I undoubtedly see it from the 16 -year-old Filipino millennial back. I dont look for recognition on my nonsense and I dont ever watermark or anything like that, but I likewise get the other side extremely. Im old enough to understand both sides. I exactly miss everyone to be happy so were fuckin partying.

Instagram for fucking photos of puppies playing volleyball in sunglasses and iguanas surfing. I precisely want to have everyone get listen, set the problem, and then get back to surfing iguanas. It didnt rock me emotionally because I merely understood it as something that needed to be discussed. It definitely went hazardous and exciting at some points. Beings just get fucking crazy, theres a portion of those individuals who dont even know what theyre calling about. I get chased by TMZ. Some person followed me around a Duane Reade preserving my phone call. That was tight.

You liked that ?

I kinda felt like Leo, for like two seconds. It was also scary. No one wants that life. I was trying to look at it like this is a conversation that needed to be had. I didnt look at it as being shit on. The Internet is more important to me than their own families or anything. I would love to be with the Internet, have sex with the Internet, I affection the Internet. Now its a better place.

Why was it important for you to celebrate medicines, specifically cocaine, in your volume ?

Its a mixed bag. I refer to it as the best and worst event ever. Persona of the ethos of this notebook is that its a how-to guide in that its like I dont know what you should be doing but I know what you shouldnt be doing. Ive determined every horrible act. I basically think you read this book and you dont do coke. Because youre like, its gonna establish me unbearable. Like my breath is gonna smell like a napkin and get into a super intense exchange about trash I dont even care about.

I think it depends on how old-time the reader is. For me, Ive done coke so I understood more where you were coming from in that it can be great and appalling at the same age. From a girls position, it might just appear very cool .

It depends. Im pretty explicit that its been responsible for the greatest happenings that ever happened, but likewise some of the most terrifying happenings, very. I think its more self-reflective than it is encouraging.

Your notebook is provocative is many channels. Parties are going to interpret some of the content as transphobic and homophobic. I was thinking of the assembly whatever it is you refer to trans women as trannies .

I dont know what youre specific referring to.

You wrote about tranny strippers. Thats a contentious statement. Numerous trans parties have spoken out about how injurious they find that term to be. I was curious about how you would respond to those reviewers .

is a factual account of what happened. Youre talking about an actual pejorative statement?

Yeah. Its a insult. There were a bunch of moments in the book where I speak something and immediately thought about how angry it would realize social right activists on the Internet.

Social justice parties are angry at everything.

I was wondering if you included some things specific to be provocative .

No, obviously not. First of all, any social justice being can come at me at any time. I literally have more transgender pals who will vouch for me than anyone else. They self-identify as trannies. Request a transgender who is not a geek from the Internet how they identify, and I bet you will find hundreds who mark as trannies.

I know transgender tribes who determine that lane. Its like the N-word. If they call themselves that, its OK. But having a cis person is a different story .

Any person who would find offense in that kind of minutia is not someone who should be reading this book.

Its not your audience, thats possibly true-life.

That shouldnt be anyones gathering, as far Im concerned.

As I was speaking your volume, I was thinking about your crazy narcotic and sexuality storeys as they are linked to Tucker Max s legends from I Hope They Suffice Beer in Hell . Was he somebody who affected you ?

No, thats like bro culture stuff. This is completely different.

Tonally, there were similarities .

Ive never read it, but I also think that in terms of this notebook, like Ive been living concert prowes long enough to write a book full of debaucherous narrations, but I wanted to go with more pathos, true. From what I understand from Tucker Maxs stuff, he doesnt actually move into too much trash like that. Not all the fibs here are particularly turnt up, as far as Im concerned. There are some that are honest lineage floors , not every narration is about partying.

But a lot of them are .

We can go through it When I was writing it, putting in some ardour and truth, and some real appear on it, like speak about my mummy having sex with Shel Silverstein and being a 9-year-old offspring performer diva. Shit like that, to me, that is not the same as walking around a bar with a breathalyzer. I dont not relate to it, but Ive never read any of his stuff.

Ostrovsky as small children actor Josh Ostrovsky

Do you differentiate between the Fat Jew as your performative character and yourself as Josh ?

No. I dont going to go at night and unscrew the hairection, sit down, and listen to This American Life and be like, Oh, what a hard daylight at work! Being the Fat Jew! No, its all one in the same. To me, this is gonna be disingenuous. I was doing this stuff long before there was anywhere to share it, long before anyone knew about it. Ten years ago, people in New York would be like, Oh thats the Fat Jew, the guy who does crazy stuff. It wasnt something I created and raised in order to share on social media for the masses.

But this is your career, this is your joy, but a lot of artists and performers differentiate between their performative ego, which is still their ego, and who they are when theyre not playing .

Im not an master or relevant actors. Im neither.

How do you link ?

Im the only one whos really just going for it. Im genuinely forming it up as I go along. I could start a ros companionship and that could become a real thing. Im about to do the worlds firstly EDM cologne.

What is that gonna aroma like ?

I dont know. Thats a good inquiry. Like I dont even just knowing that that entails but Im gonna do it. Its 2015. Anything is possible. The world-wide is so ridiculous at this extent. I might open a yoga ashram in Toronto. Who knows? Im one of the only people who doesnt consider anything on or off limits. I dont think that it can be defined. We have this human need to compartmentalize, to be like, What are you? But I dont know.

I guess its my job to mention, as a novelist trying to make sense of what you do.

I dont think theres anything to make sense of. I dont know. What do you think I do?

I think youre a content developer and musician .

Thats vague. But yeah. Im not not. But thats what Im enunciating. I like to keep parties approximating, obstruct people off kilter. If people suppose Im a comedian, I will move in a totally different direction and start seeing cologne. I wanna build people move, What the fuck? Maintaining parties guessing, remaining genuine gossip running about me, whether its, I dont want to say the word negative, but whatever its gonna be, thats what I am. A communication starter? I dont know.

Tastemaker ?

Conversation piece? Idiot? All of the above?

Whats your goal with your work? Why do you do what you do? Aside given the fact that you exactly want to do it .

The end goal with the book is that I remember I can get some turnt-up 18 -year-old to read. Thats the challenge, like, can you get fuckin some kids to read and think its genuinely fuckin cold? Is that doable? Ill literally do it just for that.

Were doing speaking raves to promote the book. IRL is what the programs called. Its just like gigantic DJs and works. Like, can you stimulate them read? I think its doable. I dont thoughts writing knows how to do it. I dont think mothers know how to do it.

So you want to realize say chill ?

Kind of. What if Im somehow the person to do it?

What are your favorite journals ?

I ardour Shel Silverstein, and not only because my mom fucked him. Mostly, Im the type to read 100 listicles. Like, what kind of bagel is Rihanna? You know what I entail? One-hundred times Rihanna ate fruit. Im not speaking enough books.

No ones reading enough journals .

Maybe now? That would fucking funny. To get a fucking 17 -year-old whos over it to sit down and read an entire journal? I symbolize I put in some trash to break up the chapters, like you can color in a picture of Tyrese. I symbolize, I dont want you to have to read too much.

Illustration by Max Fleishman

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I went to the Rentboy liquidation sale, and all I went was this amazing bodyguard swag

After a massive federal raid, Rentboy had to sell its entire power on Craigslist to pay its lawyers .

By Mary Emily O’Hara — November 02, 2015

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The post The Fat JewaEUR( tm) s ‘Money Pizza Respect’ is the worst notebook IaEUR( tm) ve ever spoke appeared first on caredogstips.com.

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MR:Also if ***** is going to run a "wellness page," on top of constantly talking about how uncomfortable she is/used to be about her weight and the things you can do to start bettering yourself...why is she posting pictures of drinking alcohol at 12 on a Monday...like that is just a cup of sugar essentially that will put her days behind whatever goals she has. I'm not hating just suggesting as a friend I would point it out to her if i was her friend and genuinely cared about her staying on trackKK:lol seriously? Wellness is not the same thing as getting in shape or eating cleanMR: They're undoubtedly major variables to it...KK:And even if it was why are you judging herMR:I'm not judging her at allKK: So if you're trying to be healthy you're not allowed to post a photo having a drinkMR:If *** told me he was genuinely trying to get healthy and in shape I would suggest he doesn't have a sugar cup at 12pm on a Monday If any of my friends were genuinely trying to change like she isKK:Again that's not what she's trying to doMR:And then posted pictures out drinking on Monday early. I'd be like you're setting yourself up to fail sorryKK: Literally she had an eating disorder and an excessive disorder and she lost way too much weight and now that she is finally able to post something like that and have a drink and not have to worry about how many carbs or sugar she is eating and analyzing every single thing she puts into her body people are judging her?MR:I know you're responding emotionally cause she's your friend, but I'm not judging her or think she's wrong. We're all just walking each other home, and everyone needs to hear tough love sometimesKK:Like people judged her when she had an eating disorder and all she posted then was eating healthy and working outMR: I get thatKK: No you sound ignorant and don't understand what an eating disorder is apparentlyMR:Okay lmao You're right! Jesus I can't even imagine how annoyed other people must get if they tried giving you any constructive criticismKK:It's not even about being right like what is your problem it's about having empathy and the fact that you felt you should screenshot her post and say that she shouldn't be having one drink at noon is RidiculousMR:I didn't say that I said if you were a friend you probably should mention that is all But I also forget not everyone cares as deeply as I do about the little things NevermindKK:Mention what.MR:Like I said nevermind I forgot I was wrong,ridiculous, and ignorant, and it's not like I had a friend kill themselves in highschool over an eating disorder, I know nothing about it apparently!!!KK:That having an unhealthy drink is worse than not eating at all? That she shouldn't post a photo of herself having an alcoholic drink? That having one drink will put her days behind her wellness goals without knowing what her wellness goal is?MR: But seriously you really need to check your ego in terms of literally never once being able to admit when you're wrong, being open to other perspectives, etc Like literally everyone I know who knows you kind of well has commented on it to me, including your entire family It's very frustratingKK:How am I wrong? It's not about me it's about understandingMR:I never said you were wrong But you're talking to me like I am When all I'm saying is if she's concerned with wellness, alcohol should be the first thing to go. That's like a golden rule, if she started going to a class, they'd tell her the same thing. Please consider how frustrating it is for me to have gone almost 4 years with you NEVER ONCE being able to admit you're not right all the fucking time. It's like so genuinely absurd and the fact you aren't getting that is very bothersome.KK :No again wellness is not the same as healthMR: They're all connected Holy fuck How can't you see thatKK:Honestly if it's such a problem why don't you message her about it yourselfMR: You literally conduct conversation like you're the top expert on everything And even the times I tangibly prove you wrong you can't even admit it It's so fucking absurd It isn't a problem! You freaked out on me for judging her when I wasn't in the slightest. I'm done with this conversation. But like again, you can always send me shit about *** or whatever or **** or it's totally fine to make fun of my friends who aren't perfect. Then I make a genuine suggestion about *** cutting back on drinking, since she obvi was this weekend with you too....alll I'm saying is you could say something like you want to see her staying happy and on the path to wellness and drinking on weekends and then mid day on Monday fucks with your stomach and mental health. That's not an opinion that's a fact of the matter And you fucking blow up about me being ignorant, ridiculous, judgemental, I don't understand a friend who died. Like you seriously need to check yourself sometimesKK: article linkMR:And when any other normal person would say something like sorry, we both have different perspectives, I feel you judged her is all, maybe we could talk about it differently...you'll probably just try to continue to educate me why I'm wrong Andddddd right on fuckig que there it is, I'm shutting my phone off Literally crying right nowKK: Honestly if you want to shut your phone off that's fine. But *** edited that article and her friend wrote it so maybe you'd understand hearing it come from her and not meMR: still can't acknowledge what I said. Fuck. I'm probably not going to come tonight sorry, I honestly can't deal with this shit right now Having been wrong the last 4 years is starting to wear away at me Like it's very clear your genuinely just not processing how frustrating it is for me to deal with this shit all the time, and I try to bring it up and talks about it and it's ignored, every time. It doesn't even make senseKK:The only time you bring it up is when you say something controversial and I have an opposing viewMR:Holy fuck Not true in the slightest It's embedded in every single conversation Your parents, sister, and my friends who've met you have all mentioned it so many times And you're still just like NAH You literally just talk to people like they have a learning disability, and whenever you're proved wrong you immediately ignore it/don't acknowledge it/apologize for being rude or anything It's all just "you're ridiculous, you're ignorant, here's how you're supposed to see it..." I'm sorry I'm not trying to attack you but like I'm at my witts end in regards to it. How can you not even realize you responded aggressively out of emotion without even considering the only misunderstanding was in the wording I chose Have you left yet? Cause we should probably talk in person before you go if not. Like the amount of times you've texted me trying to educate me on my friends and what they should or shouldn't be doing..and I make a genuine suggestion and you go berserk on me. That's not oka Okay we drive safe then I guess. Last thing. You literally send me screenshots of your own cousin, and make fun of/judge the guys she's with etc etc etc. do you not see how contradicting it is for you to lose your shit when I suggest something for one of your friend, but be totally fine with bashing your friends/family? I'm not mad I hope you aren't either, I'm sorry I kind of blew up, but please try to understand why I get frustrated Okay well can you at least tell me you got there safeKK:It’s one thing to be frustrated. I’ve been working on being less negative and admitting when I’m wrong, but I’m not wrong here. Women grow up having their bodies literally controlled by men. For you to say that *** should or shouldn’t be eating something and what she should be doing instead is completely out of line. The point of a wellness page is to promote sustainable and lifelong behavior. It’s not about getting in shape, its not about losing weight and its not about eating clean 100% of the time. Assuming that she is trying to lose weight is just wrong and saying someone shouldn’t have an instagram about wellness if they post a photo of them drinking alcohol is attempting to control women’s choices and their bodies. Even if that’s not what you intended it’s still what you’re doing. And I think the politicians and rest of the men in the world do enough of that already. Having an eating disorder is not healthy or sustainable and promoting foods and good or bad for someone is just reinforcing their feelings that they don’t deserve to eat. Maybe you didn’t mean anything by the comment, but I just want you to think about it from someone else’s perspective. Which is what I am trying to get better at doing.MR:Ok Jesus Christ Ok I think you're being completely delusional to be honest I'm not sure what the fuck your problem is You should reread what I said, then what you said. Otherwise I'm screenshotting and sending to your parents or something I said you suggest to your friend she doesn't have a sugary alcoholic drink on a Monday mid day I'd tell that to my parents, my friends, my girlfriend, my children. All without hesitation. If someone told me they were on the path to wellness, and I saw them drinking 4 nights a week, I would say something. I understand she has the same thing a friend of mine killed them selves over. I really do. You're the only one here who needs to consider other perspectives. I'm not coming tonight if this is the mindset you're in, it's completely absurd to be this hostile over nothing. I'll talk to you tomorrow.KK:4 nights a week? Honestly what are you talking aboutMR:Have a good night Sorry, from Friday to Monday is only 3 nights, not 4, you're correct. Again, you've totally ignored what I've said before about you constantly shitting on your friends and family, I'm not sure why me suggesting *** doesn't have a margarita on a Monday triggered you so intensely, it's kind of bizarre Like how do you think that's fair for me in conversation every single time. For me to be wrong when I'm not and you to just totally avoid apologies or acknowledging when you're in the wrong or misunderstood or whatever it is Every single time I lay it all out, and get shit for a response. You've gotta help make it a two way street here. Awesome I'm going for a walk I'll be back in an hour.KK:Because you literally don't know what you're talking about. 3 nights? Like she had one drink with us on Saturday and this on Monday. Who knows when she had a drink last before that and when she will have one next. She's not an alcoholic and it's interesting that you choose to comment on her when she's at least trying to better herself when every other one of our friends in ***** probably had ten plus drinks this weekend and posted how drunk they were over social mediaMR:I've texted all of them personally And they've thanked me for looking out for them I'll send you the screenshotsKK: Okay and do you think that has motivated them to change?MR: Again, I'm baffled by your total lack of how you talk to peopleI think it helpsAt least I'm showing I care Nevermind your right I always forget that silly meLet her do whatever she wants I'm wrongKK:Actually that's exactly rightMR:I keep forgetting you're not supposed to consider those around youKK:Let her do what she wants it's two drinks a weekMR:For sure Again, shitting on ***** folk, when I wasn't even shitting on her in the slightest you're really just like your sister aren't youKK:Do you hear yourself?MR:Yep I think you're the one who has to do some reconsidering right now If you genuinely don't see it like that then idk if I can see you for awhile I'm not sure what the fuck else I can do I'll venmo you or write you a check for the money I owe you How much is it exactly according to you so I don't piss you off again Let me know by tomorrow morning ish please so I can drop a check off after work.KK:You're saying you want to break upMR:I'm saying I need some time if this is the constant state of how you're going to talk to me, I'm sorry. I'm tearing up just thinking about it. If you think I'm enjoying any second of it then think again. I wanted to come sleep with you tonight. I saw your friend post a picture of a fat margarita on a Monday before 12pm. If *** had done it you'd have mentioned it to me for sure, as you have for the last few years w his, ****, and whoevers snap chats. I didn't realize you'd react so emotionally. But I kind of realized that's the way it goes every single time and in every singe controversial topic I always end up apologizing for nothing and you walk away like you've educated me on something opinion based. I just can't keep it up being spoken to like I have Down syndrome in every single conversation we have. I don't want to break up in the slightest, but I also don't know if hanging out tonight or tomorrow makes sense for us if this is the mindset your in. via /r/dating_advice

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