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#you agree that social bonds are helpful and important enough that they literally shaped the history of human evolution?
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zany to me how these um actually nihilists like to pretend that "um actually love/friendship/cooperation/kindness isn't real bc we evolved that way to benefit ourselves as a species..." um YES? that's also where tool use comes from? that's where cooking comes from? am i supposed to think social bonds & tool use & cooking aren't "real" because they evolved over time instead of appearing fully formed from the ether?
sorry u can't enjoy things. im a superior being twirling a fork in my bowl of delicious noodles whilst staring in adoration at the world
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zrtranscripts · 3 years
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Home Front, Mission 9: We Are Not Alone
Community spirit
~
JANINE DE LUCA: Hello again, Abel Township runners and any other Abel residents who might be listening. This is Janine De Luca. Since the zombie hordes show no sign of dispersing, I am back in the comms shack to take you through some more Ministry-approved exercises. I suggest warming up with some gentle stretches or by jogging on the spot while I talk. The more theatrical amongst you may prefer to dance.
You might remember that the cassette tape the Ministry provided to accompany our workouts was... repurposed, so Mr. Yao offered to compile a new soundtrack by soliciting requests from Abel residents. He explained that doing so would make this exercise session feel more communal. I had my misgivings, but have since reasoned that even questionable music choices will foster a sense of community, as we must endure them together. Social bonds are often forged in adversity, after all. And now it's time to find out just how much adversity we must endure as I press play on this tape. Continue your warm up to this first song.
[tape player button clicks]
~
[tape player button clicks]
JANINE DE LUCA: That last song was rather good. The continued presence of the horde is a source of anxiety, so anything that lifts one's mood is welcome. It's especially important to pay attention to one's state of mind if, like me, you are still not used to being confined. The current situation reminds me of the early days of the apocalypse when we all had to adjust to a new way of life very quickly.
For example, when people began arriving at the farmhouse, I thought the most difficult part would be organizing them, finding ways for everyone to contribute. But no, the hardest thing was having people around all the time. It took me a while to realize it was all right to retreat to my own space if I needed to. If you've found yourself isolated with more people than you're used to, exercise is an effective way of reclaiming time and space for yourself.
That brings us to our first guided exercise, body weight squats. Stand with your feet hip-width apart, pointing slightly outwards. Now bend your legs as though you were sitting on an invisible chair, with your back straight, then raise back up again. Good. We will do one minute of those. Take them as slowly as you can and pay attention to your body. Do not squat deeply if doing so is painful. Your physical fitness will not be improved by an injury.
[winds timer] Start now. [timer ticks] That's very good. Keep your back straight. That's 15 seconds. You can use a hand to steady yourself against a wall, or if you feel able, keep both hands out in front of you. Excellent form. We're halfway through. If you need to take a pause after each squat, please do so. Keep it up. Only 15 seconds left. Focus on form, not speed. Carefully lower yourself into as deep a squat as is comfortable. Almost there, runner. [timer rings] And that's a minute. Excellent work, runners! Continue to keep your heart rate up, either by doing more squats or by dancing to this next song, whatever it turns out to be.
~
[tape player button clicks]
JANINE DE LUCA: Now while some of you are adjusting to confinement with lots of people, others are finding themselves alone, perhaps for the first time since the apocalypse. Speaking personally, although I was accustomed to being alone before Z-Day, if i had to go back to it... Actually, the peace and quiet would probably be nice at first. I'd get a lot of reading done.
But no, I've learned that seeing people every day improves your mood, and I'd miss that. If you're missing companionship at the moment, then I hope the fact that we are all doing this workout gives you a sense of togetherness. You may also like to feel pride in your accomplishments. You've chosen to spend this difficult time doing exercise. This is a good choice. It will improve both your mental and physical health. Well done.
The next exercises are air punches. Either stand with your legs shoulder-width apart and your knees a little bent or stay seated. Now adopt a boxing stance. Curl your hands into fists, then raise them to chin level slightly in front of your face. If you're standing, take one step forward with your right foot. Now jab your right arm forward, rotating it so your knuckles face upwards and your shoulder swings forward. Be careful not to lock your elbow. Good. Now bring your arm back to the starting position. We'll do 30 seconds of punches with each arm, or whatever you can manage.
Ready? Go! [timer ticks] That's very good, runner. Keep it up. Excellent. That's 15 seconds down. I find it helps to envisage a zombie's head as a target. That's practice for when we all get back out in the field, runner. [timer rings] Excellent. Time to switch sides for another 30 seconds of air punches. If you're standing, step forward with your left foot. Now everyone, start jabbing the air with your left fist. [timer ticks] Well done. Keep it up, runner. 15 seconds to go. Remember not to lock your elbow. That's it, but don't push yourself too hard. We need you to look after yourself. [timer rings] Well done, everyone. A fine team effort. Let's maintain the feeling of camaraderie by punching, dancing, jogging, or catching our breath to this next song.
~
[tape player button clicks]
JANINE DE LUCA: What earth was that one about? I know I'm quite a literal person, but those lyrics are willfully obscure. Maybe someone's posted an interpretation on ROFFLEnet. Speaking of ROFFLEnet, if you're lucky enough to have access, it's an excellent way of staying in touch with anyone the horde is keeping you away from.
If you don't have access or... if you don't find it easy to open up to other people, might I suggest keeping a journal? It encourages you to organize your thoughts as if speaking to another person and reading it back can help put experiences in perspective. That said, sometimes it feels best to clear your mind altogether. The best way of doing that is to focus entirely on what your body is doing.
Here's an exercise that makes it rather difficult to think of anything else while you're doing it: the plank. Lie face down on the floor and raise yourself up so you're supported by your forearms and toes. Your elbows should be directly underneath your shoulders. Now hold yourself parallel to the floor for 60 seconds, or as long as you can.
[timer ticks] That's excellent, runner. Well done. Keep it up. You've held it for 15 seconds. Keep your core engaged so your body forms one straight line from head to heel. Very good. This isn't easy, so well done. Halfway there. This is a tough exercise, so don't worry if you need to lower yourself down for a few seconds and adopt the position again. Fantastic, runner. Keep it up. Just 15 seconds to go. Use your glutes and your stomach muscles to keep your body straight. You're almost there. Keep it going. One straight line from head to heel. [timer rings] Done.
That was one minute, though it might have felt longer. We're going to take a music break now. Dancing, jogging on the spot, or jumping up and down should all feel rather good after that, or you may perform more planks, if you wish.
~
[tape player button clicks]
JANINE DE LUCA: Hmm, I'm going to have to talk to Mr. Yao about his editorial process. It's very public-spirited to leave song nominations open to everyone, but I think we can all agree that Runner Nine's musical taste is best enjoyed in very small doses. But I suppose people need to express themselves at a time like this. Those of us who express ourselves by maintaining an ordered environment just need to remember that some people are more... flamboyant.
I suppose you could express yourself a bit with the jumping jacks we're going to do next. I express myself by performing them as efficiently as possible, but there are ways to modify them. I'll talk you through those in a moment. First, though, the normal variation. Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart and your arms by your sides. Now jump and extend your feet to either side while raising your arms overhead. Jump again to return to starting position. Good. To make these harder, spread your arms and legs and return to center while you're still in the air. An easier variation is the step jack. From that same starting position, step your right foot out to the side and raise your arms overhead, then step back to center and repeat on the left.
Whichever version you're doing, your 60 seconds starts now. [timer ticks] Well done, runner. That's excellent. 15 seconds. Reach your arms as high as you can. Keep it going. Well done. Halfway there, runners. Beautiful work. Well done, I'm very impressed. 15 seconds to go. I must say, I find jumping jacks rather cheering. I think it's the way you make a star shape with your body. Excellent. This is wonderful work. [timer rings] A sterling effort, runners. If you like, you can keep jumping throughout this next song, or move your body to the music in a way you enjoy.
[tape player button clicks]
~
JANINE DE LUCA: I must admit that my expectations for the soundtrack were low after the last few songs, but that one made me smile to myself in the comms shack. That reminds me of something I learned long before the apocalypse. Regardless of whether you are living on your own, with loved ones, or with people you might not have chosen to live with, it's important to learn how to enjoy your own company. Focus on the things you like about yourself. Maybe you're... very organized, for example.
It's also important not to berate yourself if you're not able to accomplish everything you'd like at this strange time, or if... you're not able to take care of everyone. Being kind to yourself will help you be more forgiving towards others, and I can't overstate the importance of that. Especially if, like me, you're broadcasting from the messiest comms shack in the UK and have just dragged your sleeve through a pool of spilled marmite.
It's time for our last song, so make a conscious effort to enjoy your own company as you stretch or perform some other gentle cool down exercises. Use this time to think about things you've done you can feel proud of, starting with completing this workout.
~
[tape player button clicks]
JANINE DE LUCA: That was a nice song, very rousing. I would like to thank Miss Marsh for the suggestion, and I suppose everyone who submitted a song for this... rather eclectic playlist. I can't say all of them were to my taste, but an important part of living within a community is being tolerant of each other's differences.
I'd also like to thank all of you for doing these exercises today. It is not always easy in a situation like the one we find ourselves in to make time for one's own well-being, but I'm going to draw on my experience of running Abel to tell you that any efforts you make to look after your own physical and mental health benefit the whole community. And just because we aren't all in the same place at the moment doesn't mean we aren't a community. Remember that, Abel runners. Well, I suppose that concludes our mostly Ministry-approved workout. Until next time, runners.
~
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cherylmaebasanalh1a · 4 years
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NAME: CHERYL MAE BASANAL
SECTION: H1A-BSED MAJOR IN ENGLISH
SUBJECT: UNDERSTANDING THE SELF
SUBMITTED TO: MR. RAUL DADIS JR.
Chapter One (1)
The Self of Concept from Various Philosophical Perspectives
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MY REFLECTION
Fear of failure. That was my biggest anxiety that I may not be able to fight with. It brings so much of pain every time it gets into my nerves. It made me hopeless every time it did not meet my expectations. I was terrified to encounter exertions and mostly the hardest battle ahead. I was not prepared to wear all my gears and shield to protect my emotions and accept the things that are not meant for me. I was weak and naked. Fightened to be left behind. So i decided to stay in my comfort zone–to be alone.
It was all started at my 7th to 10th grade when I experienced many things including academic failures and even friendship. Since then, I have joined countless organizations and programs including pageants and amateur contests that I thought it would be effective with regards on my performances at school but it was not. It serves many trials and errors that challenges my strenghts. I met a lot of people that I thought they would be true to me, that there is someone to cry on, to bond with, to feel that somewhat I have someone to be with along my journey. But yes, literally no one. It hurts me a lot that even I gave my all, my effort, time but all of it was not enough. It made me think that I am truly a failure. A useless. But I realise that I have God. I knew that during my difficult situations, the time that I suffered, He was there for me and I felt like I am connected to him. That I am no longer left alone.
"Unexamined life is not worth living", according to Socrates. I learned that it is okay not to be okay. It is alright to feel pain, to feel alone and being left. It is alright to fail. Explore many things and enjoy what life given us. I learned that as the time goes by, life is more challenging. As it gets more challenging the more I will fight for it and prove that I can do it no matter what to reach my aspirations in life. Even I weighed down by scars and disappointments, I have my self with a strong belief–all geared with shield and ready to accept failures.
Chapter Two (2)
Sociological Perspective: The self as a Product of Society
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MY REFLECTION
How can a person defines their selves? How did they view themselves as a living individual in a society? Do we have any movement that can make our society to be in a constant development? In the accordance of Charles Horton Cooley's "Looking glass self", I view myself as one of the population that can make our society grow its development to provide the necessities of the people in need.
It is somewhat self awareness and inner mirror where it can help us to be in the right path where we can decide what are the things that properly shapes ourselves as an individual living. I believe that the self is the person as the object lf its own reflective consciousness. It is a good method for us to soar beyond our journey together with society for the reason that I am a product of it. I have plenty of responsibilities in different aspects in the society. It is also a part of my growth since it helps me and I learn from it on how to interact with the people that surrounds me. I believe that no society and it will never acts independently without the existence of human being. I may not be the most powerful person living but in the sense of making the society in a better state.
I would be the one to raise a change where we cannot find cruelty, corruption, chaos and criminality. Brings equality, possible to live in harmony and no violence. I view myself as one of the population that can improve the development and growth of our own society and the preservation of culture so that everyone is living under a peaceful and chaos-free world.
Chapter Three (3)
An Anthropological Conceptualization of Self: The Self As Embedded in Culture
MY REFLECTION
"Culture is both meaning and the process of making meaning". All the human beings exist and live in their cultures. Humans create and modify their cultures, and in turn cultures define the context where the humans are. No one can live without any culture, that’s why they create them and are suspended in them. According to the Social Learning theory that an individual can acquire learning through observation and imitation since behavior could be determined by environment and culture. Being raised by my family's culture really shaped my development and my self concept which leads me to a wide perception on viewing how I interact to others.
Respect. My parents never wasted their effort on teaching us on how to be polite and to be a prestigious person. From that, I learned that I have to accept somebody for who they are, even we are in different paces or even I am not agree with them. Despite of having a different cultures and beliefs, respect should be remain on top. Respect shapes you as an individual and it reflects your whole as a person. I do have some muslim friends before and we used to hang out or eat outdoor knowing our social norms. We are aware what are the things that is right and wrong, appropriate and not. Having this kind of personality brings a good impact on you as a citizen.
By knowing our own culture is that we are better able to understand the others. With the great amount of diversity, we are still respecting and accept each other's belief and culture. Geertz emphasisizes that human nature is interdependent with culture; without men, no culture, certainly, but equally and more significantly, without culture, no men. The lives of a person has a meaning, if they perceived that meaning into experiences, then they run into the same culture. In more ways, culture influences us than we may know. Being interacted to one another in one place, serves as an invisible bond that ties a community together with no culture. Hence, self as embedded in culture.
Chapter Four (4)
Psychological Perspective of the Self
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MY REFLECTION
Human beings are always striving for self fullfillment or self-actualization. Many people are still fulfilling and yet on-job on their duties that they are capable with. In order to fulfill one's self actualization, the person must follow the eight (8) behaviors that argued by Maslow that can lead to self actualization. Be present, be aware of your choices, get to know yourself, Be honest, do not worry about conformity, self actualize continiously, recognize peak experiences and lastly be prepared to deal with psycopathology. The fulfillment of self undersgoes pain and hardships. Maslow suggested that if the psychoanalytic literature has taught us nothing else, it has taught us that repression is not a good way of solving problems.
As human beings, we have basic psychological needs for personal growth and development throughout our lives. by accomplishing self actualization, you are able to find meaning and purpose in your life and able to say you are truly lived. I am a musician and a member of choral in Davao City National High School where I was graduated. I used to make songs, cover songs and performed in different places even I never made a profit on it. In my inner side, it makes me fulfilled and glad with those minuscule snap of achievements. Self-understanding is one of the most important to adolescents to acquire fulfillment and to linger to their aspirations or who they wanted to be. In some ways, commemorating minimal achievement can make us more inspired to look for more and huge suprises given by life.
In the end of my understanding with regards on this chapter, being aware of the needs of your self is way more important for us to figure out what makes us to be a better person. When the needs of the self are denied, severe andiety may arise. We have to know what are the necessary things in ourselves to make a better fulfillment and to acquire learnings throughout the journey in finding the meaning of our life.
Chapter Five (5)
Western and Eastern Concept of the Self
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MY REFLECTION
In western self, it involves to some extent a dimension of “thingness,” the reification of a homunculus assumed to reside within the individual, who is the thinker of thoughts, the doer of deeds, and the feeler of feelings and about eastern, the self is often treated as an illusion. That is, the idea that people are separate entities from each other and the world is not considered a reality in Eastern thought. Whereas in the West the self is understood primarily as an autonomous ego whose existence is distinct from that of others, in the East, it is often argued there is no meaning of self that is independent of our relations to others.
Both perspectives have different meanings and purposes. People have different practices and beliefs whereas people are separated base on what they used to believe and base on their culture that embodied to their personalities. I belong to monotheistic western religion where I believe and worshipped to only one God. This gives people something to believe in, provides a sense of structure and typically offers a group of people to connect with over similar beliefs. These facets can have a large positive impact on mental health—research suggests that religiosity reduces suicide rates, alcoholism and drug use.
To end this chapter, having different aspects of beliefs and belongings does not going to be a basis and does not affect of being a person living. The important thing there is having a different cultures, religion or even way of thinking, there must always be a solid interaction to one another and understanding or respecting each other's belief and belongings. The identity and self-concept of an individual is interwoven with the identity and status of his/her community or culture, sharing its prides as well as its failures. In the end, self Cultivation is the ultimate purpose of life.
Chapter Six (6)
The Physical Self
MY REFLECTION
I grew up with a spirit of Inquisition. It is quite uneasy for me to discover the changes that occurs in my body as I reach my adolesence stage. I knew that during those days, I am no longer a kid. I reach the stage where my responsibility as a women intensifies. But sometimes as I look my self in the mirror, I can see how flawed I am. Far from being perfect. I cannot deny from time to time, I do have a huge insecurities with my overall body image. That it gives me an idea that if I would be like others–good looking and mostly has everything, I would be optimistic and relieved.
Living in a simple life is not nerve-racking. We do not own luxury and expensive things. It does not make me feel worried and anxious about the things we had. What makes me feel more insecure is that seeing someone without any problem or body issues. I have an ectomorphic body structure. Even I eat a lot, sometimes it does not make me feel healthy. I am sensitive and fragile being. I do easily get hurt and feel unworthy. I used to compare my entire being on others. I have low self-esteem which I lack confidence and strong voice. I cannot stand on my own and defend myself towards the other. I felt bad about asking for something or more that can possibly fills up my satisfactions and needs that must be present in my whole body structure.
Nevertheless, I keep on reminding myself on how beautiful and captivating I am. Sometimes, we dont have to depend on what other's point of view or standard on how they define what beauty is. It is important to see our worth, see things in a positive way and a good heart because true beauty brings innumerable rewards. It aligns you with your true nature and creator and soothes the soul that makes a person happy. I believe that the best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched–they must be felt with the heart.
Chapter Seven (7)
The Sexual Self
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MY REFLECTION
Raising awareness and learn how important sexual orientation and information about sexual and reproductive health and rights among the youth is the best method or action to prevent the spreading of deseases and early pregnancy. It is the timely issues that is hard to decrease since the number of deseases that is continuously spreading and number of teenagers getting pregnant has its high percentage. I was born and raised in a community that is mostly teenage pregnancy are very common. As a future educator, I will lead my way to stop this common problem by educating our future suitors.
I can see how hard to fight life when you are not ready for it. One of my relative is a teen age mother. It gives a sorrowful feeling seeing that they really suffered the situation. They were not ready even they dont know where to get some source of income to provide the needs of their family. Seeing that she really need to quit her studies to fucos on their responsibilities as a parents. Sadly seeing that they encounter judgements, depression and disappointments on their parents specially they expect too much and they did everything to make her future better. It was all summed up to their problem to fight with. Several adversities such as social stigma, lack of emotional support, poor healthcare access, and stresses around new life adjustments that parenting adolescents may faced with.
Life is a choice. We made mistakes and deal with the consequences. They knew and already learned their lesson in life. Sometimes dealing with circumstances, we dont have assurance on it and we suddenly drively give in. It is important to know the possibility in every decision before we take the risk since we cannot go backwards. Enough with beyond doubt knowledge is important. My goal is to raise my voice to prevent this issue in order for us to be in a conflict-free living.
Chapter Eight (8)
The Material Self
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MY REFLECTION
"A simple and unassuming manner of life is best for everyone, best for both body and mind", accoring to Albert Einstein. Living a simple lifestyle allows us to see the reality of the situation more easily. We are like living in a less stressed for the reason that it has less to worry about. It is easier to make a wise decision when we know our principles in life. But sometimes we tend to ask for something that is we also want to feel on having things that we never used to have. I do experienced being possessed by material things as a result of being insecured on things that I wanted to have also.
Material possessions remain valuable because this possessions are symbolic of one's social status. Since people tend to see a person's status base on the things that he/she are able to buy, it serves as an ideal standard of the whole society. As I remembered when I am on my 11th grade, I was the one together with my colleagues that is being chosen to lead in making a thesis paper. Everyone of them has its own resources–laptop and even internet connection and I was the only one who does not have it all. Since I cannot provide my own and cannot even do something on it, I was kicked out the group. This made me feel like people will treat you good if you have stuffs like them or we can say the greater the material possessions, the more likely one will be regarded and accepted by the other people. Which sometimes, I also wanted those things to be treated well and better.
Besides, a simple life is not filled with complications and distractions. It is a life that is lived focused on so that we feel comfortable and contented. It is too unhealthy to ask something or you are trying to find satisfactions. We have to learn being gratified and appreciate things we owned instead of looking for something we cannot have. I learned to say no to unnecessary spending and live my life based on my standards and not the expectations of other people.
Chapter Nine (9)
The Spiritual Self
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MY REFLECTION
I kept on asking myself that what is my purpose of living? Do I really have to search the meaning of my existence? Intermittently, finding the meaning of life or understanding the nature of my personal existence, too feel my significance and purposefulness is kinda difficult or unattainable for me. Even before, I do not understand why I suffered a lot. Why do I have to make an effort on everything. It is something that there's one thing I dont have and lack of.
Faith. It took a long period of time to be fully aware and perceived that I should talk and confess to Him everything. That if I give up to Him my struggles and weaknesses or ask for guidance, it will strengthen my relationship to Him. Made me feel so bad that sometimes I doubted Him. Doubted Him for so many reasons–misunderstandings, personality, family conflicts and tragic circumstances that I felt so alone facing those trials. I grew up in a christian family, even my relatives are regular worshippers. We go to church every sunday and I used to sing psalms. Leaving then, I never felt that I am completely connected to Him. I was covered by curiosities seeing that how can people felt that He is with them? How did they know that He exist? Why that sometimes He never cares about me? They said that I should change my perspectives and believe that there is the Almighty One. How can I change it? Does it really need to go to church to be a better person?
I can't see Him but He give me signs. I can't see Him but now, I can feel Him. Knowing that, it doesn't need to show people that you're a church-goer. It has to be like you know that you believe and you will be faithful to Him. I realise that the spirit on us gives us a physical space to connect and draw closer to God and to realise that there is something out there bigger than ourselves. It instantly elevated to a state where like it opens my mind and our heart widely to Him and trying to understand more his message. He put me on this state to give me assignments whereas trials and pain are present. He made me realize that I have a purpose and challenged me on things to reach my accomplishments. And now, I never doubted Him anymore.
Chapter Ten (10)
The Political Self
MY REFLECTION
Being an active citizen in a country is also what we called political self. Individuals are already political by nature. Since, identity is one of the important components of political self, It is a representation about how a person defines or how they perceived his/herself. This is a public identity also has an impact with the construction of a person's desire or aspirations. The idea of Social Learning theory where an individual can acquire knowledge through observation and imitation since behavior could be determined by environment, an individual's learning comes from the environment he/she had may affect their desires or who they wanted to be.
The family has a hierarchical structure which requires each member to perform his/her role. My parents are fastidious in many things where they must be followed on what they wanted us to be. They wanted me to take a nursing course instead of taking education. It is the most difficult decision on me that I have to be disobedient this time. I think, taking the course that may not fit your desires and skills, studying will be a burden. It is very complicated to imagine that the correlation between salary and job satisfaction is weak. This may not be effective on me and I will never enjoy it. Since teaching made me feel as a whole person, that I know that I can help individual who are in need–better understanding and good interaction, well I will fight for it.
In order to enhance the knowledge and contentment at the individual level and bringing development for the common good of the society at large, political participation is the essential way since it is considered as an important component for development constructively. As a member of the developing society and a future educator, I will use my voice in order to commit the effectiveness of the decision making process where it can help the better growth of the nation and the better and constant lives of future suitors.
Chapter Eleven (11)
The Digital Self
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MY REFLECTION
The digital self is the aspect of the self that expressed or shared to others through online interaction. The digital and technology is absolutely essential and vital in our daily lives. It is more relied on since it serves as a helping hand to a huge number of people as it provide jobs and creat new ways of communication specially we are under the pandemic. It helps us to be updated and aware on daily updates. Living on this modern-high tech world, it became as inseparable object that shows advantages and disadvantages by its usage especially how it affects to the young and substance abusers.
Adolescents are particularly susceptible to cyberbullying, gossips and stalking. Highlighting this issue wakes up the mind to young purchasers on how to properly behave in using social media platforms. I have been bullied through online and suffered phycological distress. Being laughed and judged by different anonymous person on media gives huge impact on me including it lowers my self-esteem and made me so strained emotionally. This causes too much factors such as it loses interest on interacting with people, in studies and even increases anxiety that could lead to suicidal thoughts. It is so important to give an action on this to decrease the large number of victims.
Malik, et. al (2017) suggest that technology–mobile phones are ever more becoming a very valuable part of people's daily lives. It allows the users to keep in touch and stay connected in people technically and be aware on things. Hence, this would be the best platform to spread awareness on youth on how to use technology in a proper way. This would be the best method to educate peers to lessen the number of Cyberbullying and also parents to monitor and guide their children including the advices which is necessary for preventing the never ending cycle of aggression. This action is the best way to avoid risks not just ourselves but the whole safety of adolescents living on the spherical world.
*********
In drawing things to my closing proclamation, I learned that all the things undergoes a long process. I conclude that everything can be possible if you believe in yourself. You have to understand the inner you and find the purpose of your existence and be a good example to society. I learned that without my effort and failures, I am not who I am right now. Sometimes, life is not fair. But life challenged us to be strong enough to fight travails ahead. Along with my journey, I never lose my faith to Him. My family are there to support and cheer me up. Yes, even if you have everything but doing things without misery and pain, you will never felt the true feeling of success.
"Our success does not depend on what we have, but on what we do with what we have"
-Raul Dadis
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From Whence He Sprang - 02
Title: A Street Rat Named Jason
Rated: M for Blood and Violence
Part: 02 of 18
The Catherine Hershey School, Gotham City
January 9th, 2012
10:07 EST
Team Year One
Jason couldn’t believe his luck. From the moment he’d first arrived at the Catherine Hershey School, he’d started to believe that his years of bad luck were starting to turn around. The last week had done nothing to change that belief. If anything, they’d reinforced it.
The first night, immediately after Batman and Robin had dropped him off, a security guard had brought him to the main student dormitory and introduced him to one of the dorm’s resident advisors. He’d been given a clean, though somewhat baggy, pair of pajamas, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and been guided to an empty dorm room where he’d slept for a bed for the first time in years. Best of all, for the first time in his life, he had his own bathroom. After years of living on the streets, only being able to wash himself when it rained and relieving himself in abandoned alleys, having a toilet and shower to himself was a luxury beyond belief.
The next morning, the headmistress had come by and spoken with him, asking him questions on his background and upbringing. She was a kind middle aged woman named Mrs.Anderson, and Jason got the feeling that even if he hadn’t shown her the card Batman had given him, she still would have let him stay at the school anyway.
Armed with the information Jason had given her, the headmistress and her administrative staff had managed to track down and request important documents like his social security card, education records and birth certificate on his behalf. Jason had also been forced to meet with a number of different people, including the school doctor, a therapist, and one of the teachers at the school.
This morning, he’d just finished the last of those meetings with a man who was the head of school for CHS. He’d asked a lot of the same questions that Robin had asked about Jason’s life on the streets, at their first meeting. Just like with Robin, Jason had felt like the head of school had actually cared about the answer, so he told the man the truth. The meetings were all part of the schools guiding mission to ensure that less privileged children got the chance to live a better life than the one that they might have been born into.
As Robin had told him when they’d dropped him off, the school was indeed a good place. It had been founded around the turn of the 20th century by a wealthy philanthropist, who had used the profits of his industrial empire in order to fund the school. To this day, thanks to its founder and several generous donors, the school maintained a sizable endowment in order to provide for its students, who were primarily selected and accepted on the basis of economic need, geography, and the capability to learn.
While the school had more than enough resources to provide for its students, owing to its origin as a vocational rather than a college preparatory school it still expected students to perform chores while they were staying on campus. Surprisingly, Jason found that he enjoyed the menial work. He took to these tasks with vigor and without complaint: compared to trying to pick someone’s pocket, or hot-wire a car, the act of shoveling snow was refreshing in its simplicity and lack of danger. The chores also gave him an opportunity to bond with his classmates, who had given him some idea of what to expect once classes started in a couple of days.
All things considered, and for the first time in several years, Jason felt happy.
Later that day…
16:14 EST
The Head of School for the Catherine Hershey School was a man in his early 70s named Alan Turner. As a young man, he had been a teacher, but had eventually joined the administrative side of teaching and worked his way up. Thanks to his skill, many private schools in the country had wanted to hire him, but he’d eventually settled on joining the CHS, as he had been drawn by their mission to help less fortunate children overcome their backgrounds.
By almost all accounts of the people who knew him, he was a good man. His staff knew him as a hard worker who almost never took days off, while the orphans and foster children who attended the school that he helped run knew him as a kind man who was always willing to listen to their problems.Twice a year, at the start of each semester, he took the time to visit any new students who had joined the school. Alan took it upon himself to look at these children in the eye and hear their stories. Given the majority of their backgrounds, he knew even just one friendly face in a new environment could be the difference between a good transition and a bad one.
For the most part his efforts were successful. There were hundreds if not thousands of alumni from CHS who remembered Alan as a man who had helped them escape the poverty that most of them had been born into.
Most of the time, Alan performed this routine out of his desire to make sure that the new kids at school felt welcome. However, this year, the act of visiting these children was a penance, something he took upon himself in order to make sure the guilt of his choices never left him. An act to make sure he remembered the children he was forced to sacrifice for the greater good.
He’d come into his office at the main building this morning to find a note on his desk. It was a simple note, made of parchment rather than paper, with four simple words written in elegant and flowing script: “Your tithe is due.”
It never ceased to amaze him how much anguish and terror that little note caused him, just as its predecessors had haunted him every four years in the twenty since he’d become the Head of School for CHS. Each time he received one, he was reminded of the night that the man who had called himself Raptor had come to visit him in order to explain to explain certain obligations he was expected to fulfill.
On that night, twenty years ago, Alan had awoken in the middle of the night and found himself with a blade held to his throat, face to face with a killer. Not literally face to face, since the man’s face had been obscured by a stylized mask that featured an avian beak and goggles, but close enough for Alan to see the faint impression of eyes behind those tinted goggles.
“Alan Turner.” The man had growled, pressing lightly with his blade to stop Alan from crying out in fear. “My name is Raptor. If you make a sound, I will kill you and everyone else in this house. Nod if you understand.”
The threat to him, and by extension his family, was clear. Conscious of the fact that his wife was still sleeping peacefully next to him, Alan nodded, and was silently led out into the study of his home.
Once Raptor had withdrawn to relative privacy with his captive in tow, he had proceeded to outline his purpose in coming to Turner’s home that night. He was, he explained, an agent for an organization that held enormous power and influence over a large number of countries. This organization required children. Not just any children, but children who came from nothing, who could be disappeared without a fuss and shaped and moulded into whatever the organization wanted them to be.
The Catherine Hershey School was a place where such children could be acquired. One child selected on the basis of mental capability, physical skills, and lack of strong family connections was expected every four years. and as Head of the School, he was in the perfect position to both appraise any potential recruits and help their… acquisitions go much more smoothly.
And so, at that moment, Alan had three options: He could refuse to cooperate and be killed right then and there, though his family would be spared.
He could lie and attempt to betray Raptor, in which case not only would be killed, but his entire family would be tortured and killed as well.
Or, he could agree, and nothing would change. The school would continue operating under his guidance, free of interference. All that it would take was one name, given at the appointed time.
Alan had agreed.
And now he stood, 20 years and four sacrifices later, on the verge of sacrificing a fifth innocent child to the terrors in the night. His hands trembled as he withdrew a pen from his coat pocket
Briefly, Alan considered leaving the space where he was supposed to write the name of his selection on the parchment blank. If even a tenth of the rumors that he’d heard were true, he was condemning one his young charges to a great deal of pain and suffering.
But it had to be done. One child to save the rest.
Alan’s shaking hand wrote out the formulaic response easily: I nominate Jason Todd to serve.
He stood up and left the parchment in the middle of his desk, just as he’d been instructed to do all those years ago. He knew that by the time he returned tomorrow, it would be gone.
“Selene.” He called to his secretary as he pulled open the door to his office and began to don his heavy winter coat.
“Yes Mr.Turner?”
“I’m not feeling too well. I’m gonna head home and rest for a bit. You don’t mind locking up do you?”
“No problem at all.” She replied with a kind smile, handing him his coat and moving to open the door that led into the hallway. “It’s nice to see you taking care of yourself for once sir. Rest up and feel better.”
He gave her a tight smile as he maneuvered past her. “I’ll try.” He promised.
Framed pictures of both previous and current students lined the main hallway leading to his office. Alan spared a glance at them as he made his way towards the exit. He envied the children in the pictures their innocence.
His was long dead.
——————————————————————————————————————————
Gotham City
January 12th, 2012
20:53 EST
Team Year One
“Hey,” Zatanna’s voice crackled through the comm in his ear. “Missed you today.”
Several dozen feet below the streets of Gotham, Dick slowly made his way through the sewers, storm drains, and abandoned subway tunnels that comprised the Gotham underground. “Sorry Zee. It feels like every super villain in Gotham picked this week to launch some sort of evil scheme.”
“The signal is horrible.” She noted. “Where are you?”
“You don’t wanna know.” Dick said, taking care not to slip on a puddle of god-knows-what as he continued to search for Jason’s personal belongings. The kid had given him the location of the tunnel entrance, which he’d remembered, but also the directions to his underground home, which he’d forgotten.
Absent any landmarks he could use to keep track of his position, Dick was forced to search in ever widening concentric circles. The underground wasn’t illuminated, which meant that he had to navigate using his mask’s night vision mode. Luckily, he was able to avoid venturing into most of the sewer tunnels that were connected to the underground, correctly reasoning that Jason would never have slept near them.
A few minutes ago, he’d come across some signs of habitation that made him think that he was on the right track.
“What’re you up to tonight?” Zee asked curiously. “Not that I’m complaining, but I think the fact that I’m your girlfriend obligates you to spend at least one night a week with me.”
Dick winced. He knew Zatanna understood how important he considered putting on his costume and venturing out every night, but he always felt guilty about taking time away from her.
“Sorry.” He said again. “Batman and I dropped a kid we met on the streets off at a boarding school last week, and I promised him that I’d bring him some of his old stuff that he hid in the underground before classes start tomorrow.”
“Ah, typical Robin.” She said fondly. “Always keeping his promises… at the last minute.”
He smirked at her good natured jab. “You know you love it.”
“That I do.” She gave a dramatic sigh that was audible despite the horrible quality of their comm signal. “You’re off the hook for tonight, but I expect you to make it up to me.”
“Of course. Flowers, dinner, and a movie.” He said, smiling despite his surroundings. Their dates might have been relatively mundane by some standards, but they both enjoyed them immensely. “Sometime next week, alright?”
“OK.” Zatanna said coyly. They both knew once he said he’d do something, he would. “Bye.”
“Bye Zee.” He said, closing the channel.
Dick ventured into another tunnel offshoot and caught site of an alcove that was two or three feet off of the ground. It was too small for a fully grown man to lie down comfortably, but it looked perfect for someone that was Jason’s size.
He peered into the alcove and caught site of a bundle that was tucked into the back. Thanks to advanced WayneTech systems, the night vision mode of Dick’s mask gave him greater levels of detail than most standard Night Vision Goggles, but it still rendered everything in a green-black monochrome.
Dick tapped the edge of his mask to deactivate Night Vision and switched on a flashlight in order to examine the bundle. It turned out to be a small backpack, wrapped in plastic bags in order to keep it both hidden and safe. A patch with the name “Jason” had been stitched onto the back.
He smiled. “Gotcha.” He slung the pack onto his back and made his way back to the surface, taking care not to get the contents wet.
He could’ve taken the batwing and flown directly to the school, but he’d elected to ride there on his motorcycle. It made the journey out to the city’s outskirts longer, but much more enjoyable. He’d always preferred the freedom of the road as opposed to the relatively cramped confines of an aircraft cockpit.
In terms of stealth, tonight wasn’t a great night: it was a full moon out, which meant that it would be easier to see both him and his bike if he got too close to the school. He decided to park his bike in the woods outside the school and make his way over to the student dormitories on foot.
Hacking into the school’s database and figuring out which room Jason had been assigned was child’s play. The programs he’d designed could cut through military grade software with ease; the encryption on the school’s wireless network fell apart like wet tissue paper.
Once Dick had determined which room he was supposed to sneak into scaled the exterior of the four story dormitory by hand. It was dark inside, which meant that either Jason wasn’t there, or he was asleep.
Just in case it was the latter, Dick elected to give notice of his arrival. “Jason?” He whispered, rapping lightly on the window. “Jason, you in there?”
He waited a few moments for a reply, but there was none. The moonlight reflecting off of the window made it hard for him to see if there was any movement inside. He pulled a birdarang from his utility belt and used the edge to flip the latches of the window open, allowing him to climb in.
“Jason?” He whispered again, not wanting to scare the bejesus out of the 12 year old in case he’d been wrong and the kid was actually there, but the room was deserted. Dick smiled, hoping that Jason was out having fun with some of the other kids on campus.
The part of him that had been raised by Alfred felt compelled to make the messy and clearly slept-in bed before completing his task and leaving. As he reached under the bed to tuck in the sheets, he felt something metallic collide with his fingers. Dick peered under the bed and was amused to find the hubcap that Jason had “stolen” from them; evidently, he’d stuck it under his bed in order to hide it from covetous eyes.
He left it there, making sure that the sheets and blanket were crisp across the mattress before fluffing and rearranging the pillow. Task completed, he unslung the backpack he had recovered from his shoulders and placed it on the bed. He’d been hoping to check in with Jason to see how he was doing, but given the circumstances, that could wait for another day.
He pulled a small notepad and pen from his belt and wrote out a short note, which he left on top of the backpack before hopping back outside and shutting the window behind him. “Told you that I’d get your stuff back to you in time. Hope you’re liking it here. - R”
As he made his way back to his motorcycle in order to head back to downtown Gotham for his nightly patrol, Dick made a mental note to himself to stop by in another couple of days to make sure the kid was doing alright.
At That Same Moment…
Somewhere.
“Get up.” An unfamiliar voice said from above him.
Jason stirred and rolled over from where he had been sleeping. As he sat up and rubbed his bleary eyes, he became aware in his groggy mind that this wasn’t his room at the Catherine Henderson School.
He was in a large room, something that looked like one of the tunnels from the Gotham Underground, except older. Most of the Gotham Underground had been built out of a uniformly sized red brick, but this room was made out of irregular cobblestones. There were several scattered pillars around the room, which would have been dark if not for the hundreds of candles that had been set out on both the room’s perimeter and on a candelabrum hanging from the ceiling.
Jason also became aware that he wasn’t alone. There were other children around him who had also been asleep on the ground, each of whom looked to be about his age. There were 10 masked men amongst them, shouting in harsh tones for the children to get to their feet. As the youngsters complied, he could see that most of them had circles of fatigue and sleeplessness in their eyes, which were made even more prominent by the candlelight. Jason felt pretty exhausted himself, though from the dryness in his throat, it felt like he’d been unconscious for some time.
“What’s goin-“ The words had barely left his mouth before a hand snaked out of nowhere and grabbed a fistful of his hoodie. In the time it took him to gasp, Jason was hauled up so that his feet kicked uselessly at the air. He found himself face to face with one of the men who had been standing guard over the children.
The guard was wearing a full face mask that concealed his features, though the mask itself was unusual. There was a pair of goggles embedded on the front of the mask, as well as a stylized avian beak and eyebrows.
“Quiet.” The man growled into Jason’s face before dropping him onto his butt on the cold stone floor.
Jason wanted to leap to his feet and attack the man but his instincts, coupled with the knives that the masked man wore strapped to his body, told him that to do so would be an incredibly bad idea. He silently got to his feet instead. He wondered how he’d gotten here, what was going on, and what was going to happen next. The last thing he remembered had been going to sleep in his bed back at the school’s dorm.
Quickly and efficiently, all the other children who were in the room with him were awoken cajoled onto their feet as well. They stood in a loose mob, facing a large podium with a bird’s face emblazoned on it, at the front of the room. Most of them looked around fearfully, but kept silent.
Most. Not all.
“Who are you?” One girl in the row ahead of him asked one of the masked men fearfully, in slightly accented English. It was hard to tell by candlelight, but Jason thought she was hispanic. “Where are we?”
At a glance, Jason knew the girl had made a mistake. The man she’d questioned was similarly garbed to the other guards, but his armor was much more embellished: the brows and beak on the mask were both longer, and the fingertips of his gauntlets ended in razor-sharp points. He turned menacingly and positioned himself directly in front of her.
“My name is Raptor, Talonmaster of the Court of Owls.” Despite the fact that he spoke in a hushed whisper, all of the other children heard him clearly. Raptor raised a hand and casually backhanded the girl across the cheek. The force of the blow caused her to spin and fly backwards into the row of children behind her.
“And you will speak only when spoken to.”
Jason was halfway towards Raptor before he’d even realized he was moving. “Hey!” He shouted furiously, “Leave her alone!”
Some of the other guards moved to stop Jason, but Raptor stopped them with a raised hand, uncaring as Jason charged at him. The moment he got into range, Jason drew his fist back to throw a punch.
“Ulk-“ Suddenly, he found himself dangling in the air again, only this time, the hand that held him was clamped around his throat rather than holding a fistful of his hoodie. “Hmm.” Raptor hummed consideration as he held the twelve year old at arm’s length, head tilted in an almost bird-like gesture of curiosity. “You’ll do.”
Before Jason could even think about struggling, Raptor shifted and punched Jason twice. Once in the stomach, and once in the solar plexus. The air rushed from Jason’s lungs, and his chest seized, making it difficult to replace the lost air. A follow up blow impacted directly on his nose, blinding him with blood and tears.
Despite the pain, Jason raised his hands up to his throat and tried to pry Raptor’s fingers from around his throat but it was impossible. Raptor’s fingers felt like they were made out of steel. In punishment for his attempt at escape, Raptor punched him again, this time in the liver.
Jason’s conscious mind crumpled in pain. Raptor was just about to hit him again when a voice pulled him short.
“Raptor, enough.”
A man wearing a fine grey suit emerged from the shadows and strolled up to the podium. Like Raptor, the man was wearing an avian mask to obscure his features, but it was of a different style. Raptor wore a hood that covered his entire head, while the man in the suit had a mask that only covered the front of his face; the man’s grey hair was still visible.
His mask was also much more ornate than Raptor’s, made from gold. It almost seemed to glow in the candlelight. “We can hardly blame them for not knowing the proper forms at the moment. Their ignorance will pass in time.”
“As you wish, Grandmaster.” Raptor said. There was obvious respect in that tone. He opened his hand and dropped the 12 year old to the ground, where he landed in an unceremonious heap. Raptor bowed his head in deference to the man he had called Grandmaster.
The Grandmaster gave a slight bow in return, a master acknowledging the respect and loyalty of a servant. He turned his attention to the children in front of him and spread his arms wide in a gesture of welcome.
“Hello, dear children.” He said, voice warm and rich despite the mask that he wore. “Welcome. Welcome to the Court of Owls.”
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nofomoartworld · 7 years
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Hyperallergic: The Greatest Biennial of All
The 2017 Whitney Houston Biennial (all photos by the author for Hyperallergic)
Three years ago, the Whitney Museum opened its last biennial in the Marcel Breuer building, a sprawling but largely inward-facing show that drew heavy criticism for its lack of diversity. Just a few days later, a one-night exhibition of 85 women artists popped up in a small studio space in Brooklyn. Though it wasn’t expressly positioned as a response to the Whitney Biennial, the Whitney Houston Biennial seemed to revel in inclusivity and, in that sense, felt like a rebuttal.
Now the 2017 Whitney Biennial has arrived in the museum’s new home, bringing it with both praise — for showcasing a more heterogeneous group of artists engaged with the world around them — and considerable critique — for hollow depictions of violence. Alongside it, the Whitney Houston Biennial has quietly made a return too, in a space run by Chashama just 1.5 miles from the main event and lasting for 10 days instead of four hours.
Nadja Verena Marcin’s cheeky video “How to Undress in Front of Your Husband” (2016), HD video, 13 mins
Artist and curator C. Finley founded the Whitney Houston Biennial, and she’s the organizer once again of the 2017 edition — with considerable help from a large group of women and queer folks. That part is important, because for her, the show is as much about art as it is about community and “creating connections” for the artists involved. “It encourages people,” she says of being included in the exhibition, especially students whose work is hung alongside art by the likes of Linda Mary Montano. For better or for worse, in the art world, “you get things by who you know. This is who we know.”
Francena Ottley, “Seat of Heritage” (2016), 26 x 15 in
As in 2014, that “we” seems to encompasses a genuinely broad spectrum of artists, though the one common factor among the 167 of them may be that they’re not household names (with Anne Carson and Justin Vivian Bond among the few exceptions). Walking through the show, which covers nearly every inch of wall space and a chunk of the floor — Finley calls this, fondly, “my crazy, salon-style weirdness” — I recognized work by some friends and acquaintances but spent most of my time appreciating all that was new. I paused for a while to look at and listen to Dominika Ksel’s haunting tribute to science fiction writer Octavia Butler, “Parable of Democracy” (2017), and watched, nearby, Nadja Verena Marcin’s cheeky video “How to Undress in Front of Your Husband” (2016). I pondered Patricia Dominguez’s intriguing prints in “The Museum of Seagulls” (2017) and marveled at a trio of pieces by Francena Ottley, including a miniature chair that appears to be made entirely of hair. I laughed many times, not least thanks to the Cake Butt Collective’s snappy “King Cake” video (2016) and Meegan Barnes’s clever sculpture “Peek-a-boo Versace Booty” (2016). Each participant was asked to pick a female-identifying “pioneer” who inspires them; those short response texts — on subjects ranging from Venus figures to famous artists like Lynda Benglis to a librarian in Havana to many people’s mothers — are included on the wall labels and make for a lot of interesting reading, if you’re inclined to do it.
It’s difficult to know what to make of a show like the Whitney Houston Biennial, where the sole determining factor for participating artists is their womanhood (Finley says applications were open to anyone who identifies as such). There’s a beauty to the diversity — of identities, media, and styles — but there’s also the feeling of a grab bag, plus the nagging question of whether it ghettoizes its participants. In 2014, the scrappy show blew into a stifled art world like a breath of fresh air; in 2017 and the days of Trump, there seems to be less distance between the Whitney and Whitney Houston (both literally and figuratively), and the latter, lacking any kind of unifying theme, risks not having enough of a clear purpose.
For Finley, the show’s value lies in the creation of a community, exposure for artists, and possible sales. I find myself agreeing — promoting the work of lesser-known women artists is always a social and hopefully an economic good. But I was also encouraged to hear that Finley wants, starting in 2019, to bring on younger curators, with an eye towards passing the biennial on to them to shape as they see fit. In a doggedly sexist world, the Whitney Houston Biennial remains necessary, but it’s still figuring out how to grow into a force of its own.
Installation view, 2017 Whitney Houston Biennial, with Angel Favorite’s “Intention Platform” in foreground
The Cake Butt Collective, “King Cake” (2016), video
Dominka Ksel, “Parable of Democracy” (2017), woven cotton, 80 x 60 in
Installation view, 2017 Whitney Houston Biennial
Jennifer Mack-Watkins, “Afro Hawk” (2011), silk screen, 26 x 35 in, and “Black Warhol” (2011), silk screen, 26 x 40 in
Above: Daniela Gomez Paz, “Tierra” (2016), melted fabric, expired pigments, tempera paint, crayons, found resin, and objects, 9 x 12 in; below: Megan Pahmier, “Of the Same” (2014), paper, 3 x 6 x 1 in and “Soft Sound” (2014), paper, 7 x 9 x 1 in
Foreground: Aniahs Gnay, “Thumbs Fell from the Sky” (2013), 24 x 36 in; background: Gabriela Vainsencher, “El Objeto Que Se Acuerda” (2016), archival inkjet print mounted, 72 x 88 in
Jia Sung, “As you can see, i have: a red heart, a white heart, a yellow heart, an avaricious heart, a greedy heart, an envious heart, a petty heart, a competitive heart, an ambitious heart, a scornful heart, a murderous heart, a vicious heart, a fearful heart, a cautious heart, a perverse heart, a nameless obscure heart, and all kinds of wicked hearts, but not a single black heart.” (2016), oil on panel, 33 x 12 in
Work by Desiree Des in the 2017 Whitney Houston Biennial
Installation view, 2017 Whitney Houston Biennial
Becky Flanders, “Vagina Deathstare” (2015), archival inkjet print, 20 x 30 in
Patricia Dominguez, detail of “The Museum of Seagulls” (2017), 9 digital prints, 24 x 34 in
Installation view, 2017 Whitney Houston Biennial
Keri Oldham, “Hungry Ghosts” (2016), watercolor on paper, 24 x 32 in
Elana Langer, “Trigger Spray” (2017), bottle, label, aromatherapy spray, humor, 1.5 x 4.5 in
Foreground: Tora López, “Baroness” (2017), cast porcelain and resin stand-to-pee device, 1.75 x 8.125 x 1.625 in; background: Amy Khoshbin and Anne Carson, “I was born for love not hatred” (2017), double-sided felt banner, 120 x 57 in
Installation view, 2017 Whitney Houston Biennial
Alex Nuñez, “Whitney” (2016), mixed media on vinyl album cover, 14 x 14 in
Entrance to the 2017 Whitney Houston Biennial
The 2017 Whitney Houston Biennial continues 325 West Broadway (Soho, Manhattan) through March 29.
The post The Greatest Biennial of All appeared first on Hyperallergic.
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thevalicemultiverse · 7 years
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Things You Need To Know About: Londerland Bloodlines
Tag: ~V: Londerland Bloodlines
Premise: What does one do when, after having been “strongly encouraged” to date the local upper-class girl, they’ve accidentally awakened a corpse bride-to-be, seen the Land of the Dead, saved the local upper class girl with the bride’s help after she was kidnapped by another potential date, set the bride on the path to finally moving on, and agreed to a break with the upper-class girl to give her time to recover? And one’s parents won’t shut up about it? Move to California, of course! Victor hoped Los Angeles would be a new beginning, but it nearly turned into a new ending when he was hit by a car three days in. But then, his own dark-haired, green-eyed angel entered his life – with sharp fangs and sweet blood he just can’t get enough of…
This AU is is a crossover between Corpse Bride, the Alice games, and the Old World of Darkness (and, quietly, Back To The Future). Specifically, it asks the question, "What if Alice ended up the Malkavian protagonist character of Vampire: The Masquerade -- Bloodlines, and Victor took the place of Heather Poe, the protagonist's potential ghoul?" In this more modernized (2004, to be precise) world, before the main action starts, Victor and Victoria are not arranged to be married -- instead, they're just being pushed toward each other by the very-enthusiastic Nell and the rather-more-reluctant Maudeline. Victor and Victoria, fortunately, actually like each other, and they're happy enough to go on dates and think about a future together.
They're less happy when, urged by Nell, Pastor Galswells shows up on one said date to extol the virtues of marriage. They're able to have a laugh about it -- but later, on a walk through the local woods, Victor finds himself wondering about a future with Victoria, and does a practice proposal with a plastic ring he got out of those "toy in a bubble" vending machines during the date, slipping it onto a convenient hand-shaped branch.
Convenient hand-shaped branch turns out to be an actual skeletal hand, and its owner -- a murdered bride named Emily -- promptly rises, believing Victor's proposal to be legitimate toward her. Victor tries to run, but Emily catches up and takes him to her home in the Land of the Dead. Victor, terrified, blurts out the whole thing was a joke -- and then, seeing the heartbroken look on Emily's face, clarifies that he didn't even know she was there. Emily's friend Bonejangles explains her history (killed by the man she intended to elope with for the money he told her to bring), and Victor, feeling awful, decides he has to do something for her in apology for getting her hopes up. Emily admits that it would be nice to just have a date Upstairs, if possible -- Victor explains about Victoria but says that if she's okay with it, he'd love to take her on a little moonlight picnic or something. Emily is cool with this plan, and after talking with Elder Gutknecht (the most powerfully magical dead person around), they go back to the Land of the Living so Victor can talk to Victoria.
But when Victor arrives at the Everglots, he finds the lord and lady in a tizzy and the police taking statements. Turns out Victoria has been kidnapped by the second date she had that day -- Maudeline pushed her to meet a "Lord Barkis" once she got home, and Victoria agreed just to get her off her back. Barkis promptly took her hostage and is demanding a ransom the rather-broke Everglots simply can't pay. Victor, horrified, brings this news back to Emily -- and Emily wonderingly admits that her old beau went by the name "Edward Barkis." Getting Elder Gutknecht's help in finding the missing Victoria, they discover that yep, it's the same guy, and that he fully intends to kill Victoria instead of releasing her once he gets his money. A furious Emily (backed up by Victor and a few of her dead friends) confronts him, and they manage to subdue him and get word to the police, sending him to prison and saving Victoria. Emily, feeling like the major anchor holding her to the living world has been released, decides to return Downstairs and have a farewell party or two before preparing to move on, and she and Victor fondly bid each other adieu.
Which is followed by Victoria admitting the whole kidnapping really shook her and she'd like a break from dating altogether. Victor is understanding, but his parents are less so -- and after the fiftieth complaint about how he let their best chance for social importance slip through his fingers, Victor snaps and decides he wants to put as much distance between them and him as possible. One ticket to Los Angeles, California later, he's ready to start a new life!
Three days in, he's hit by a car and rushed to a severely-understaffed clinic in Santa Monica. Victor, certain he's going to die, begs the first person he sees -- a mysterious green-eyed girl in a blue dress -- first for help, then for company as he passes. The girl instead cuts her wrist and makes him drink her blood. To Victor's intense surprise, he not only enjoys the experience, but when he wakes up later -- he's fine.
Fortunately, he's not left in the dark as to the reason for his mysterious cure for long -- a run-in with local bounty hunter Knox Harrington explains all: the mystery girl is Alice Liddell, she's a vampire (a Malkavian, to be specific), and her blood is what healed him, turning him into a ghoul. Victor promptly tracks down Alice, and the two end up living together in her downtown apartment while Alice runs errands for the longer-lived members of the local vampire population (being the newbie, and one who shouldn't have even been made to boot). Along the way, Victor reunites with Victoria, who also fled to California after her parents tried to push her into yet another unwanted relationship -- and with Emily during a raid on a family reunion of the Giovanni clan of vampires. The Giovanni specialize in necromancy, and Emily's spirit had been captured and restored to a kind of life as an advanced sort of zombie in one of their rituals -- along with Alice's murdered sister Lizzie. Both Victor and Alice are only too glad to welcome the pair into their home, and soon a sweet little quartet forms between Victor, Victoria, Emily, and Alice.
However, not all is well in the City of Angels -- Alice has made a lot of enemies in her time as a vampire, and as they start closing in, Victor and Emily are forced to flee L.A. for their own safety. Victoria and Lizzie follow shortly thereafter, having been narrowly rescued from abduction by the evil Sabbat vampires (Victoria, as you might imagine, is sour about being kidnapped TWICE in one year). The four end up settling in the little town of Hill Valley, waiting with bated breath to see if Alice will eventually join them.
She does, having very thoroughly told the L.A. vampires to fuck off. And so Victor settles into a very content future, with three women who love him dearly, an honorary older sister, and a steady supply of that amazing blood from Alice's veins.
This verse has two distinct time periods/locations threads can be set in:
Epic of the Ankaran Sarcophagus: Anything set during Victor's time in Los Angeles, post the car crash (aka the time period of Vampire: The Masquerade -- Bloodlines, which starts in October 2004 and probably runs through at least the end of the year). He's a little confused at how he keeps ending up in situations involving undead women, but he's happy playing a supporting role in Alice's various adventures. She saved his life, after all -- and he's come to like her quite a lot for her imagination and determination. Just, uh, don't ask him why he's twitchy sometimes. He's trying not to think about that addiction Alice refuses to feed.
Nice Place To Live: Anything post-V:TM-B, when Victor and company are living in Hill Valley (starting in 2005). Victor's happily settled back down into small-town life -- albeit the kind that includes being part of a romantic foursome with another ghoul, a zombie, and their vampire mistress. And with Alice having finally gone ahead and blood-bonded him, he's a lot more stable in his cravings. He's only too happy to chat with the neighbors now! (Though if you're visiting from L.A., expect to get some side-eye until he confirms you're not part of the Camarilla, anarchs, or Sabbat, come to ruin their day.)
Common NPCs:
Alice Liddell (throughout)
Victoria Everglot (throughout)
Emily Cartwell (throughout)
Lizzie Liddell (throughout)
Shipping: Another poly AU! It started out as just Valice, but the moment I decided Victoria was going to take the place of Samantha -- the NPC in Hollywood who recognizes the player character as a mortal friend -- and figured out a way to get Emily into the main story. . .well, things just fell into place. Victor’s feelings for Alice may be the strongest (thanks to her literally saving his life and being her ghoul, with all the benefits and drawbacks that entails), but he loves Victoria and Emily dearly too, and is all for romance with any of them.
NPC Ships: None
Important Facts:
NPC Alice’s backstory is similar to what she had in the games (Bumby stalked and raped her sister, burned down the house to cover his crimes, Alice escaped and was committed for ten years before entering his care and realizing the truth), only Bumby actively bribed someone in the forensics unit to keep from getting caught at the time and she didn’t suffer quite so badly in Rutledge (no leeches, for one thing). Her move to L.A. was prompted by shoving Bumby in front of the train -- while she was reasonably sure she’d get away with the murder, it still seemed prudent to put as much distance between her and England as possible.
NPC Alice’s sire was a seventh-generation Malkavian called Fish -- a narcissistic asshole who considered Alice’s attempts to leash her hallucinations and delusions a personal insult. He lured her to his apartment by pretending it was for lease -- Alice tried to fight him off when he first bit her, but he overpowered her. He seriously did not expect Lacroix to kill him for the deed. Alice does not hold his death against the Camarilla prince at all.
NPC Alice’s Malkavian madness is basically a permanently-on Londerland. As she’s used to handling these sorts of hallucinations by now, it’s possible anyone who didn’t know her clan might think her a Brujah until she starts having conversations with cats and rabbits that no one else can see. Following the rules of the video game, she has access to the Auspex, Obfuscate, and Dementation disciplines, along with general Blood Buff and Blood Heal. Alice finds inflicting more than hysterical laughter on people to generally be a little uncomfortable, but she loves Obfuscate.
NPC Lizzie became a ghost after her unfortunate demise, anchored to the mortal world by her fury at Bumby and her worry over her little sister. A Giovanni vampire heard about the poltergeist activity at the site of the old house, and managed to capture Lizzie and take her to the L.A. mansion, where she received a new physical body in a ritual to create a more durable kind of zombie. However, the ritual happened to leave her with her mind and free will, and when it became obvious she wasn’t going to play ball, she was locked in the cellar with Emily, the other failure of the day. The two became fast friends in their confinement, and made regular escape attempts -- up until Victor and Alice showed up and were able to rescue them. Lizzie wasn’t happy that her little sister was a vampire, but was thrilled to hear Bumby had died. She’s basically the honorary older sister of the entire group, and rather protective.
Actually, they’re all protective of each other, as is the norm. Victor in particular will take a baseball bat to anyone who threatens his girls (never mind that one of them is a vampire and probably better-suited for dealing with threats).
As a ghoul, Victor heals faster, is a bit stronger and quicker in general, and can amp up his strength, speed, and stamina even more using the vampire blood in his body (in game terms, I imagine him being able to use Blood Buff). He’s also addicted to vampire blood, and, being a Malkavian’s thrall, occasionally hears voices and has prophetic dreams. During Epic of the Ankaran Sarcophagus, he’s struggling with the fact that Alice, frightened of stripping him of all free will via the blood bond, is refusing to give him any more of hers. She occasionally lets him have elder blood from packs she picks up, figuring either those vampires are dead or at least unlikely to meet Victor, but he doesn’t find it as satisfying as hers. Talking to him about his status is likely to make him a bit twitchy. By Nice Place To Live, Alice has realized Victor knows what he’s getting into and wants it anyway, and has blood-bonded him on a weekly feeding schedule. He’ll happily rhapsodize about what a lucky ghoul he is in that time period.
NPC Victoria is also a ghoul bonded to Alice, at least by the time of Nice Place To Live -- she got hurt during the escape from the Sabbat, and Alice gave her some blood to heal her (with more of a warning this time). A combination of the Malkavian blood and being kidnapped twice in one year has made her somewhat paranoid of going anywhere outside alone, especially anywhere that might put her near strange men. Fortunately one of the others is pretty much always available to walk with her and calm her down should she panic.
While Back To The Future’s characters aren’t huge players in this verse, the quintet does know Doc Brown and his family -- largely because they’re renting Doc’s old garage apartment. (They’ve sub-divided it with screens and made a special sun cover for Alice’s bed.) So BTTF characters are more than welcome here!
Bloodlines characters are welcome too (obviously), but be forewarned -- Victor knows very few directly apart from Knox and Mercurio, his fellow ghouls; the rest he generally hears about through Alice. And, uh, Alice doesn’t like many of the L.A. vampires apart from Beckett and VV. There probably won’t be any overt hostilities unless the other person makes the first move, but expect lots of snark.
This verse is open to everyone!
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