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JBB: An Artblog!
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@demisexual-polyamory
Tarot and Oracle card readings available!
$15 for pendulum (yes/no questions, 5-10minutes)
$25 for 3-card reading
$40 for my unique in-depth spread (30 minutes)
+$1 for every minute over 30
$35 for 30minute Distance-Reiki healing sessions
$50 for spell work and consultations
April 7, 2026 - "All you had to do was pay us enough to live, all you had to do was pay us enough to fucking live"
A worker in Ontario, California, USA, set his companyās warehouse on fire and has a message for the CEO:
āThere goes your inventory. You know we may not get paid enough to fucking live, but these bitches (lighters) dirt cheap. All you had to do was pay us enough to fucking live.ā[article]/[video]
if any Californian finds this out message me and I'll add it to the post.
Reblog if you will never. Ever. Use AI in your writing.
Yeah I'm old enough to have been taught that plagiarism is bad.
And I have enough pride in myself as a human that if I'm bad at a craft... I'll practice so I can get better. Instead of stealing other people's work and slapping my name onto it.
You know what? I'm bilingual too.
And I still don't use AI as a "revision consultant to refine clarity and nuance".
If you're so proud of your skills and degree that you have to "warn" an imaginary quaking audience about how they'll be intimidated by your astounding writing skills, maybe try "clarifying" and "refining" shit on your own.
And if real writers whose work gets plagiarized by the bot you're using don't appreciate that? You're being called out for exactly what you're doing. You're not a victim or a martyr.
Using gen AI for your writing doesn't make you a "perfectionist". It makes you a plagiarist.
On AI, Authorship, and Ethical Transparency in Creative Works
So, Iād like to put on my scholarly hat for a moment and have an educational discussion on AI, authorship, and transparency as it relates to fanfiction communities.
Lately Iāve seen discussions about the distinction between āevaluativeā and āgenerativeā AI use in writing, and I think itās worth clarifying some points for the sake of better community understanding. These topics matter not because anyone is looking to shame writers, but because there are well-established boundaries in publishing, academia, and digital ethics that affect how we define authorship.Ā
Below are a list of items that I believe are important to address:
1. AI Cannot āLearn Your Voiceā Without Generative Use
A recurring claim Iāve seen is that AI is used strictly for evaluation, yet the same users say the model has ālearned their voiceā over time.
This is a contradiction.
AI cannot ālearn your voiceā through passive evaluation. Research consistently shows that large language models do not adapt to individual user style or preferences through ordinary usage. Model behavior only shifts through deliberate alignment techniques such as fine-tuning, reinforcement learning, or controlled inference methods (Li et al., 2023). In other words, simply having an AI āevaluateā your writing does not cause it to internalize your voice, and passive exposure does not produce learning in these systems.
The only way an AI adapts to your prose rhythm, tone, and metaphor patterns is by generating content based on your inputs, meaning that the user is engaging in generative refinement, and not mere proofreading.
If an AI is shaping rhythm, pacing, flow, metaphor structure, or tonal consistency, that is authorship influence and no longer gets to be defined as editing.Ā
2. Revision is Not Ethically Neutral When the Tool Generates Output
Thereās a misconception that āI wrote the first draft, so the rest doesnāt count.ā
But in academic and publishing ethics, if a tool meaningfully alters style, structure, or expression, the tool is considered a co-authoring agent. Even replacing sentences, restructuring paragraphs, or smoothing dialogue can constitute generative contribution.
Multiple professional organizations make a clear distinction between editing tools and generative systems, and all agree that when a tool contributes to the expressive elements of a text, that contribution constitutes authorship. COPEās 2023 position statement emphasizes that AI systems generate content and therefore cannot be treated as neutral editors; they produce text that meets authorship criteria even though they cannot assume responsibility for it (Committee on Publication Ethics, 2023). Similarly, the Modern Language Association (2023) states that any text that is generated or significantly shaped by AI must be formally acknowledged, as failing to do so misrepresents the true source of authorship. The U.S. Copyright Office reaches the same conclusion from a legal standpoint: when an AI tool determines or materially contributes to stylistic, structural, or expressive choices, that portion of the work is not human-authored and cannot be claimed as such (U.S. Copyright Office, 2023). Taken together, these guidelines establish that meaningful stylistic or structural alteration by AI moves the toolās role from editing into co-authoring, requiring transparency.
3. Intent Alone Cannot Establish Authorship
Another idea circulating is: āIf the intent comes from me, the work is mine.ā
Unfortunately, that is not how authorship is defined in any formal discipline. Authorship is tied to expression, and not intent (U.S. Copyright Office, 2023).
If the expression is significantly shaped by a non-human system, intent doesnāt override the systemās contribution.
If intent alone determined authorship, ghostwriting, translation AI, and text generators would all be considered ethically equivalent to self-written work, which they are not.
4. The Editing vs. Generating Distinction Is Often Misunderstood
Many claim, āI donāt tell the AI to write scenes, so Iām not generating.ā
But generative AI does not require scene-level prompts to be generative.
Examples of generative influence include: restructuring sentences, rewriting passages for tone, creating metaphor suggestions, smoothing dialogue, adjusting prose rhythm, rewriting transitions.
Each of these is generative because the new text did not originate from the author.
If someone rejects āroboticā suggestions yet continues to use the tool until the flow feels natural, the tool is shaping style. This is very different from grammar correcting.Ā
Ultimately, this post is not meant to be anti AI. AI has many valuable uses, but when it begins shaping expression in creative writing, its role becomes an ethical consideration rather than a simple tool choice.
Committee on Publication Ethics. (2023, February 13). Authorship and AI tools: COPE position statement. https://publicationethics.org/guidance/cope-position/authorship-and-ai-tools
Li, Y., Wei, F., Zhao, J., Zhang, C., & Zhang, H. (2023). RAIN: Your language models can align themselves without fine-tuning. arXiv. https://arxiv.org/abs/2309.07124
Modern Language Association. (2023). MLA guidance on the use of generative AI in academic writing. https://style.mla.org/citing-generative-ai/
U.S. Copyright Office. (2023, March 16). Copyright registration guidance: Works containing material generated by artificial intelligence (Policy Statement). https://www.copyright.gov/ai/ai_policy_guidance.pdf
Author is a bilingual person who is one class away from a whole ass science degree, capable of reading primary sources.
R.I.P. The 2976 American people that lost their lives on 9/11 and R.I.P. the 48,644 Afghan and 1,690,903 Iraqi and 35000 Pakistani people that paid the ultimate price for a crime they did not commit
A 10-year update to this post:
R.I.P. to the more than 4,500,000 people of Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan, Yemen, and Syria, who have lost their lives as a result of American occupation.
keeping the tags well said op
Discussions of what "counts" as "canon" queer representation fall apart the second you start talking about media older than about five years or so. If your only metric for "canon queerness" is a character looking directly into the camera and explaining their identity in specific, modern, US-American-English terminology, you're not going to get a good picture of what queer media looks like. If your barometer for what counts as "canon" requires two characters of the same gender to kiss on-screen, you're not going to get a good picture of what queer media looks like.
Dr. Septimus Pretorius (portrayed by Ernest Thesiger in 1935's Bride of Frankenstein) was never going to look directly into the camera and explain his sexuality in 2024 terms, but he remains an icon in queer media history. You cannot look at that character (blatantly queer-coded in the manner of the time, played by a queer man in a film directed by another queer man) and tell me that he isn't a part of queer media history.
To be honest, even when discussing modern queer media, I would argue that the popular idea of what "counts" as "canon" is very narrow and flawed. I've seen multiple posts in the past few days that say the Nimona movie is "implied" trans representation, and I just...no, y'all, it's not "implied," it's an allegory. The entire damn movie is about transgender struggle, and the original comic is deeply tied into N.D. Stevenson's own queer journey. It isn't subtle. You cannot look at that movie and pretend that it isn't about trans struggle. It's blatant, and to say that Nimona "isn't canonically trans" is a take that misses the story's entire message, and the blatant queerphobia that almost kept the movie from happening. (I wrote a five thousand word essay about the topic.)
Queer themes, queer coding, queer exploration, and queer representation can all exist in a piece of media that doesn't seem to have "canon queer characters" on the surface. Most queer characters are never going to be able to explicitly state their specific identity labels, be it due to censorship or just due to the fact that scenes like that don't fit in some narratives. Some stories aren't conducive to a big "so what's your identity?" scene.
Explicit, undeniable, "this is my identity in no uncertain terms" scenes are very important and radical, and I'm not saying they shouldn't ever exist. I am saying that you can't consider those scenes the only way for queerness in a piece of media to be "canon."
That's not even getting into instances where artists say they didn't intentionally queer-code a character, yet still invoke queer themes, coding, and flagging on accident. See: Christian Linke & the Arcane artbook aggressively no-homo-ing Jayvik and Vanco, despite how deeply queer all four of those characters read to a queer audience.
Arguing "canon" status doesn't matter to me as much as pointing out the queer themes being invoked. Doesn't matter if it was an accident or if the showrunner disagrees; the queer themes are still very much present.
Like, it does still chap my ass that the canon queer couple in Arcane are the cops, but Caitvi's canon status doesn't strip Jayvik and Vanco of queer themes. The queerness that so many viewers are picking up on does not magically cease to exist just because the showrunner doesn't get it.
The concept of canon is useful in some ways, but it can be very limiting when discussing whether a piece of media "counts" as queer.
Spirk is queer media history, my friends, even if the Premise was never "canon."
Look me in the eyes and tell me that Xena and Gabrielle "don't count." Look me in the goddamn eyes and try to tell that lie.
I wanted to make my own post about it separated from the post about the UHC assassination, but I have a GoFundMe for my top surgery that I've been trying to get enough donations for!
I've been saving up for top surgery since 2023, and I've been out as transgender and wanting to medically transition since 2018. Hopefully, if everything goes right, I'll have enough savings/donations to schedule my top surgery for summer of 2025, however I've been having a lot of trouble saving up since I moved out of my parents house and started college this year.
Literally any donation amount will be a massive help. If like, 1/12 of the people who liked that UHC assassination post donated 1$ I would be able to afford it no problem. If you can't donate anything however, reblogging always helps!
Here it is:
For a large chunk of my life I have suffered from severe gender dysphoria. My dysphoria makes it hard fā¦ Sunny M needs your support for Supp
Reblog if you stand against order, civilization, and goodness itself
goes hard ngl
Consider:
Remember, remember
while we can see clearly the issues
and theyāre all watching as it all comes crashing down around them
A single act can tip the scales
We are fighters
We are lovers
We are writers and readers
musicians and dreamers
So donāt be afraid to hold your loved ones close and speak out
Because they want you to forget
You are bright and powerful
You hold within you the fires of change
You are more free than theyāll ever understand even as they try to hold you back.
So put on your best face: yours.
Hold on to your convictions and give them an idea.
That we are more numerous than they realize; you are NOT alone.
Remember that.
I feel like Bruce Wayne projects the kind of amiable playboy 'fun' vibe that he'd be the type of celebrity that certain interviewers feel comfortable surprising with puppies.
You know the kind of shows I mean.
The late-night talk show situations where they're making benign small talk with their smiling guest, and there's a segment where animals get brought out, usually to talk about some sort of ecological relief effort.
So you're watching your trash TV talk show late at night, and you get to watch billionaire pretty boy Bruce Wayne be begrudgingly talked into holding a (relatively) harmless creature which inevitably gets a lot of delighted shrieks from the audience as it starts being a lot more active than the handler promised. And to his credit, Bruce doesn't flinch, he doesn't freak out. But his eyes are a little wide, and his voice a little tight as the smile on his face takes on a slight rictus quality before he's inevitably rescued by an apologetic handler who is also laughing because they all know there was no real danger, it was just funny to put Bruce, who is an undeniable good sport and already laughing along, out of his comfort zone for the sake of charity.
Meanwhile, up in the Justice League headquarters, several founding members of the League are wondering how fast they can get a fake Oscar award shipped to the space station because fuck off. Absolutely fuck off, Bruce. Where the fuck did he study? Juilliard? (Probably.)
(Clark ends up going to a novelty store during the commercial break. It's faster than trying to get anything shipped, even with the infrastructure Bats built for them. He finds it several days later taped to his console in a conspicuously empty briefing room. It's gaudy and awful, the words "Best Actor" engraved on the plaque. No one's around to see him smile. No one comments when it vanishes. Everyone thinks it's been yeeted out an airlock. Dick absolutely comments when it shows up in the manor, stashed in one of the trophy cases that sprung up for all the bat kids' school awards. Bruce has no idea how it got there. Must have been Alfred. (It was not.))
Anyway, consider, for your amusement, Bruce Wayne getting highjacked on The Gotham Toight Show with a handful of wriggling puppies and, for a split second, not having to pretend he's delighted to be there.
I need you all to know this was in my queue, so it jump scared me when it popped up on my dash, but that I also misread "puppies" as "puppets," and now I'm choking to death on my water imagining Bruce Wayne on a guest panel with Kermit the Frog and Ms. Piggy whose puppeteer is absolutely shooting their shot through the medium of puppetry.
"Bruce Wayne, everyone. What a fantastic guy. All right, don't go anywhere, folks, we'll be right back after the commercial break when we'll be joined by the legendary Kermit the Frog and the effervescent Miss Piggy as they promote their latest movie, The Muppets Take Metropolis!"
The applause is deafening for a moment as the live band behind the podium strikes up a lively tune, ushering them into a commercial break.
"Really, thank you, Bruce," Murray Franklin says over the noise, angling his mouth away from the microphone on his desk. "You couldn't have got me to hold that fucking thing for all the money in the world."
Bruce inclines his head, a benign smile ever in place. "Oh, you know me, Murray. I'll try anything once."
"Well, that sounds promising," says a shrill, familiar. Bruce turns in time to find stagehands working rapid-time to construct a staging area behind the couch. And two humans holding two very distinct puppets aloft. Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy.
"Hi-ho, Kermit the Frog here." The frog puppet extends a hand toward him, causing a ripple of laughter to go up from the audience. Bruce arches an eyebrow at the puppeteer but reaches out to take the felt-green hand being offered to him. Apparently, he's not supposed to engage with the humans. "This is my companion, Miss Pigathia Lee."
"Mr. Frog," he greets the muppet formally, feeling the first hint of a genuine smile tugging at his mouth. "Charmed to meet both of you. I'm a big fan of your work."
"Oh, gosh! Really?" The Frog gushes, emoting the pure joy Bruce remembers from watching television as a child. "I could say the same to you! All that good work you do for the city! It's really something."
"Thank you." Don't cry, Bruce thinks suddenly. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
Christ, it's like Mister Rogers telling you you did a good job.
"All right, save it for the camera," Murray interjects good-naturedly, pressing a finger to his ear and listening to whatever the producer is saying on the other end.
"Mr. Wayne?" Bruce turns to find his handler waiting for him, a makeup artist behind him. "Can we ask you to move over for this next part?"
"Of course." Bruce shuffles over. As he leans back, arm stretched out across the back of the couch he realizes what they're doing. They're using his bulk to block the sight of the puppeteers from the angle of the fourth camera. Clever.
He sits placidly as the makeup artist dusts powder over his face, listening to the instructions about how to talk to the muppets. Don't look at the puppeteers, look at the puppets. Treat them like real people. Try to keep it pg-13. Just act natural.
Natural, he thinks, his eyes skirting up to the stage beams and the shadows hovering above them. There's nothing natural about being Bruce Wayne.
"And we're live in five, four, three, two, one..."
The music swells to rising applause, and his smile slips back in place, as firm and solid as his armor. He zones out as Murray goes through the introductions. He's learned that no one minds if Bruce Wayne looks a little checked out at times. Christ, he's tired. He's half tempted not to go on patrol tonight. There's a dull ache building behind his eyes, and his ribs still hurt from getting hit with a crowbar. He hopes Dick is all right. Last night's patrol had been hard on both of them, hard enough that Dick had to miss school and spend the day in bed. Though he'd gotten up before Bruce left, adamant that he wanted to watch him make a fool of himself on television. He hopes no one else is watching. He hopes there's a mild disaster happening somewhere, and he won't have to listen to Clark ribbing him about how good he is with children and animals. Again. It's like being made fun of by a slice of apple pie.
Slowly, he becomes aware of the presence beside him. Bruce looks down to find Miss Piggy staring up at him, snout turned upward, head tilted in a manner that heavily suggests flirtation. Oh God
"Not that you have anything to worry about, Mister Wayne," the high, piping voice of Kermit the Frog informs him. "Gotham's far too damp for us Muppets to want to take over Wayne Tech, too."
Bruce smiles. He's vaguely aware of the plot of The Muppets Take Metropolis. Something about taking over LexCorp. He's surprised Luthor green-lit it. The other billionaire is normally so precious about being taken seriously.
"Oh, I don't know about that, there are lots of nice swamps around here," he says, gaze still on the amorous pig puppet inching closer to him. "Mud baths, too."
"Really?" Miss Piggy drawls, flicking her blonde wig over her shoulder, much to the amusement of the audience. "And are any of these mud baths on Wayne ground?"
He can't help but smile properly at that, mouth crooking to the side. He supposes he should have seen this coming. "Oh, yes," he says, inflecting the famous Bruce Wayne charm into his voice. "More than you can shake a stick at."
When the puppet's hand comes to rest its hand on his arm, his laughter is genuine. This might be the surrealist fucking thing that's happened to him in a while. And that's saying something because he got dosed with fear toxin last week.
"Now, Brucie," Miss Piggy drawls, "Don't tempt a girl with a good time."
Some absurd instinct makes him angle his body toward the muppet, smiling down at it like a real person. "Oh, Piggy Lee, you should know I never tempt. I can call you, Piggy Lee, can't I?"
"Honey, you can call me a cab because I'm ready! Let's skedaddle!"
"Well, how about that!" Murray exclaims, drawing the attention back to him as the audience loses it. "Kermit, he's trying to steal your girl!"
The Frog turns to look at him, to Miss Piggy, then back to Bruce. "Y'know something, Murray, I don't mind. Say, Bruce, are, uh, are any of those swamps nearby?"
Oh, he's never going to live this one down.
***
"So what's it like?" Clark asks, tone deceptively neutral.
"What's what like?" Batman asks, tone sliding like gravel over sheet metal.
"Meeting the Muppets?"
He thinks about it. "Surprisingly hard to look at the humans."
Clark nods sagely. "I've heard that."
The amount of psychic damage I'm taking from the tag "Bruce Wayne Muppet Threesome" is not insignificant, but I suppose I had it coming.
Also, because I might as well ride this crackfic into the Lazarus Pit:
The Muppets eventually do make a film with Gotham in it. The premise starts not unlike the other Muppet movies, where the Muppets are fractured, and Kermit is trying to get the gang back together. For this, he must travel around the US, finding the location of the other Muppets.
When the time comes to find Miss Piggy, the screen cuts to Wayne Manor, the other Muppets standing outside the imposing iron gates.
"Well, we tried," Rizzo intones nasally, already walking off. Gonzo catches him around the neck, hauling him back.
"Where are you going?"
"Home! What, you think she's going to leave Bruce Wayne?"
Kermit's face goes through numerous stages of grief before squaring into the kind of grim determination that can only happen when you have a fist for a jaw. "We have to try," the Frog affirms, then stoically presses the gate buzzer.
The scene cuts to inside the manor, where Miss Piggy is shown lounging on an opulent chaise, surrounded by immense wealth and luxury. Empty bottles of champagne everywhere and an inordinate amount of food. It's clear there was a party last night. She is dressed not unlike Debbie from the Addams family, her face covered by a fluffy pink eyemask embroidered in gold thread that reads "Wake Me In Paris" in gaudy, swirling font. In the background, a picture of Bruce Wayne and Miss Piggy can be seen on a table. The frame is neon pink and shaped like a heart. Bruce looks happier than he's ever done in his entire life. (Probably because he couldn't stop cracking up when it was being taken.)
There's a knock at the door, and she wakes with a snort, ripping away the eyemask. "What?" she demands harshly before correcting herself into a more ladylike twinkle. "I mean, who is it?"
Alfred appears as firm and imperious as ever. Perfectly straight-faced. "Forgive me, madame, but we appear to have a common rabble at the door."
"So? Release the hounds. Brother, do I have to think of everything around here?"
Alfred clears his throat, the slightest twitch of a smile on his face. It's gone before the camera can narrow in on it. "It appears they are friends of yours, madame. Ah, one Mister Kermit the Frog and, um, associates."
"Kermi!" she exclaims before she can stop herself. "I mean, uh, very well, send them in."
The Muppets traipse into the opulent room, googly eyes roaming everywhere in astonishment. "Wow," Gonzo breathes.
"Food!" Rizzo exclaims, lunging toward the comestibles and shoving his face into a bowl.
Gonzo hauls him back, glancing at Alfred apologetically. "Sorry.
But Kermit only has eyes for Ms Piggy. "You look well, Pigathia," he says solemn and sincere.
"I do? I mean, of course, I do." She harumphs, turning her back on him. "How could I not? I'm only the wealthiest pig in the world." She turns back, expression coy over her shoulder. "What do you want?"
"Well, we're trying to get the old gang back together. Our old theaters being shut down, and I just thought that maybe one last show might--"
"That's why you're here. For the show?"
Kermit takes a deep, shuddering breath. "No. That's not why I'm here. Gosh darnit, Piggy Lee, I want you back. I love you, and I know deep down" -- "way down," Rizzo supplies before getting elbowed -- "that you love me too."
She turns slowly. As though drawn by some invisible string. Her expression falls. "I do. I did. Once upon a time. But Kermi... Bruce takes care of me."
"I'll say--" "Rizzo!"
She carries on as if the others hadn't spoken. "I know you love me. But I also know I'll only ever be second best to the show. With Bruce," she sighs dreamily. "He's rich, handsome, and most importantly, dumb as a rock. I'm the most important pig in town. I'm practically running the joint. You really think I'm going to give up all this." She gestures around the grandeur. "For a penniless Frog who can't see past the next show?"
"Well..." Kermit hesitates, face falling. "Yes. I guess... I guess I did."
Gonzo and Rizzo share a look. "I think we better go," Gonzo says, placing a consoling hand on Kermit's shoulder. "Come on, guys. It was nice seeing you again, Piggy."
"Yeah, real nice," Rizzo intones, shoving as much food into his pockets as his little rat hands can grab.
Kermit shakes himself. "No. I refuse to believe it! This isn't you, Piggy Lee. You might think it is, but it isn't. All this wealth, the silk robes, the fancy food. I know you, Piggy Lee; I know you better than anyone, and you're not this shallow. You're a performer, a star. You were made to be loved by the stage. Not just some... some billionaire playboy who can give you whatever you want whenever you want. I have to believe that because otherwise, what the heck has it all been for? What have we been for? So what do you say, Pigathia? Will you come home? Come back to the show where you belong. For me?"
There's a long, heavy pause, and Miss Piggy sighs.
The following scene cuts to the Muppets flailing down the Wayne Manor driveway, yelling comically as several snarling rottweilers chase them.
"And stay out!" Miss Piggy yells after them. When she turns back to Alfred, she resumes her ladylike poise. "Alfie, be a dear and tell Brucie I'll be home late tonight. Mama's got some shopping to do."
"Very good, Madame."
She eventually shows up at the Muppet show at the last minute to save the day, a happy, bumbling Bruce tagging beside her. Later, when the Muppets are all on stage, the human protagonists, who are in the audience and seated next to Bruce, remark, "Wow, I can't believe they raised the money to save the theater!"
"They didn't," Bruce says with a small, knowing smile. His gaze turns to Miss Piggy adoringly, sighing wistfully. "But I just can't say no to that pig."
Henceforth it becomes Muppet canon that Miss Piggy and Bruce Wayne are in a heated on-again-off-again relationship. Neither Kermit nor Bruce seems to mind each other, leading to an episode of Sesame Street several years down the line where Elmo explains that sometimes a child can have one mommy and no daddy, or one daddy and no mommy, or have one daddy and one mommy, or two daddys and no mommies or vice versa, and sometimes if you're the Wayne kids, a daddy, a frog, and a pig.
Bruce will never live it down, but it's worth it. Letting the Muppets into his life is possibly the best longcon of his life. Who the fuck is going to believe he's Batman now? No one. Not even the butts matching can hold up to him being Miss Piggy and Kermit's sidepiece.
it drives me bonkers the way people donāt know how to read classic books in context anymore. i just read a review of the picture of dorian gray that said āit pains me that the homosexual subtext is just that, a subtext, rather than a fully explored part of the narrative.ā and now i fully want to put my head through a table. first of all, we are so lucky in the 21st century to have an entire category of books that are able to loudly and lovingly declare their queerness that weāve become blind to the idea that queerness can exist in a different language than our contemporary mode of communication. second it IS a fully explored part of the narrative! dorian gray IS a textually queer story, even removed from the context of its writing. itās the story of toxic queer relationships and attraction and dangerous scandals and the intertwining of late 19th century āuranianismā and misogyny. second of all, iām sorry that oscar wilde didnāt include 15k words of graphic gay sex with ao3-style tags in his 1890 novel that was literally used to convict him of indecent behaviour. get well soon, i guessā¦
I saw a review of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall that said āI canāt believe people think this was a feminist bookā.
Like, do you know how swooningly, outrage-causingly shocking it was that the main character slammed her bedroom door in her abusive husbandās face? Do you have any idea how unthinkable it was that she denied him access to her space and her person? She was supposed to submissively look away while he turned their son into an alcoholic for his own amusement and seduced innocent young women! It was revolutionary in 1848; when Bronte (Anne) wrote it, she had to do so under a male psuedonym because publishers wouldnāt accept works by women unless they were harmless pap, which was all that was thought suitable for women to read lest their mild and gentle minds be corrupted.
The reason these groundbreaking books of history seem to tame and understated now is because they worked. They raised the bar, pushed the agenda forwards, cleared the path for the next writer. They did exactly what they were supposed to. Time is linear. History moves forward. We make progress.
When you are old, if things happen as they ought, a future generation of teenagers will read The Hate U Give and Simon and the Homo Sapiensā Agenda and Speak and think to themselves āwhy did anybody ever think this was contraversial? Why did they ban them? These are just things we talk about, these are things we deal with like normal people. What was the past like, and how do we stop from backsliding into a place where these things are considered shocking again?ā
I really hope thatās how it goes.
First rule of literary analysis: the analyst cannot judge a past work by modern standards or ethics. Doing so leads to faulty comprehension, straw man fallacies, and lazy logic and analysis. We must always consider the work within the broader frameworks of the history, culture, and events that shaped it.
I had a roommate in college that hated Jane Austen because the protagonists always ended up marrying men and it was such a wrong signal to send to young women that marriage is the only goal. I stared at her for a full minute before screaming WHAT IN THE BUTTERFLY BISCUIT Fā?
Whatās hilarious is that the entire year I knew her she would vehemently deny that she was a feminist. Because feminists were man-hating harpies! She just believed in equality. Soā¦. thereās that.
Still, it surprised me to hear her say that about Austenās books given the era they were written in. I even tried to explain this to the roommate but she wouldnāt have it. Apparently Jane should have written about them all getting jobs to live independently.
Historical context is important, children.
It's a personal choice what relationships and what type of relationships you want to prioritize. You're the one who decides who the most important people in your life are, not the type of relationship you have with them.
This was on my whiteboard when I came out of the shower today
my name is kow
and wen itās nyght
and wen blood moonĀ
is shiyning bright
and all souls dance
at Hellās command
I stay up late
I lik the damned.
Does anybody else get legitimately worried when a fanfic author who was updating regularly just suddenly disappears with no warning? Like, is it a serious case of writers block or are they in a coma? Did they just up and quit? Was it me? Were my reviews not good enough?! Did they die š³?! Were they kidnapped? Do I need to file a missing persons report? Excuse me officer, thereās been 13 weekly updates and now nothing for months! Find them! Whatās their name?! Name!? I donāt know their name but they write 3k+ chapters and I need them safe and back in my life!
Sir, thatās my emotional support fanfic author.
Officer: iām sorry, but you canāt file this person missing.
Me: you donāt have all the facts.
Officer: which are?
Me: i love them.
So, painful story, but Iāve really needed to tell it for a while.
My best friend, the woman I loved for 13 years, was a fic writer in the middle of an especially long piece. She updated on a schedule and had for years. She had a small, but loyal following.
And then she died out of nowhere. One day we were laughing, the next she was in a coma, 3 days later she was dead. She hadnāt been ill and to this day we donāt know what took her. She was just gone.
I knew she had friends all over the world so I went into her email to see if I could find addresses and notify people after a week of blind grief. In her inbox were about a dozen concerned messages from her readers. I cried. I cried and cried and I responded to all of them, telling people she had passed.
And the messages kept coming. Those people spread the word and message after message came in, most of them addressed to me now, as I had given those original readers my contact info. There were words of comfort and grief and just every emotion imaginable in that scenario. I wrote back to them all, thanking them and comforting them.
For months after she died, during the worst of my grief, I had those messages. I had those people. And they had me. I really think I might not have made it to the other side without them.
So, the fact that you care? That you think of them? That these authors who became a presence in your world are missed when they arenāt there? It means something very real. On the off chance that the author did die? Anyone who has seen this post will find comfort during the loss of their friend or family member, knowing that you all exist. That they arenāt alone. That you CARE that the world now lacks their loved one.
So, yeah. Iāve seen this post and ones like it for years and wanted to share this story. I finally could today.
Thank you, every person who reblogged this post. People like you are the biggest reason Iām alive today.
The most bitter realization comes when I start thinking how many young lives were, are and will be ruined by this war. Of course, each and every life is valuable, no matter the age but when it comes to the fates of young Ukrainians defending our country, I feel like bursting into tears.
It's not an understament that the salt of the earth is currently dying for Ukraine. There were so many ambitious, sincere people who truly loved this country, wanted to change it for the better. But they won't be able to do it anymore, unfortunately. Activists, athletes, musicians, artists, journalists, writers, entrepreneurs, Ukrainians who simply know what they want to do with their lives - every day there's news about the death of someone like this. I can't get over the feeling of utter devastation when I imagine how many families are ruined or won't be created at all, how many children won't be born because of those deaths.
There are so many people who sacrifice their health, both physical and mental, for our sovereignty and freedom. It pains me to see them in wheelchairs or with prosthetic limbs. Their resiliance makes me proud but if only they didn't have to demonstrate it like that. It's not that I pity them, I just wish they could feel healthy again. No fanthom pains, no problems with mobility, no surgeries.
It's extremely heartbreaking to watch those young optimistic people change, lose the spark in their eyes, become fatigued and indifferent. So many of them won't be able to find themselves in life after the war. A lot of them will never come from the war mentally.
Of course, I believe in our victory. Nothing else is left to do. I just wish all of us could live a better life, with loved ones, plans for the future and trivial problems.
