Going back to books in schools, I had a really illuminating conversation with someone who was not supportive of to kill a mockingbird in high schools. Her perspective was that teens shouldn't have to read sad books because their innocence should be preserved. It's a fundamental disagreement over the purpose of childhood. I think childhood should be a safe place to understand the world- good and bad. She thinks childhood should be a reprieve from it. I'm not sure how to bridge that gap.
Books I read in school: Persepolis, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Crucible, Of Mice and Men, Hills Like White Elephants (short story), Tuesdays with Maury, Night, I could go on. But kids are not just learning vocabulary and “reading levels” they’re learning empathy. Their understanding of the world should be expanding. That should be curious. That’s the point of reading and learning. It should be upsetting at times. It should make them confused or feel something or ask questions. I fear some people genuinely do not get that.
it’s because a lot has gotten lost in the discussion of moral purity. it is okay - even good - for very bad things to happen in fiction. engaging with stuff there is how you learn and ask questions, like you said.
On the subject about parents needing to control their child's reading and invade their privacy in order to "protect" them from "inappropriate material:
Until I was in....college? At least? The vast, vast majority of the books I read were either a) assigned by my school or b) (the vast majority of my reading) provided to me by my mother.
My mom is a librarian. She filled our rooms with books, picked especially for us. She pointed out books on the shelves in our home library (separate from our bedroom shelves) that she thought we would like. She bought us books for birthdays, Christmas, and just stacks of recommendations. She once paid me $10 to read one of the Cirque Du Freak books because she said I needed "to be exposed to bad literature."
She respected my privacy in room, didn't go through my belongings. She explicitly pointed out to us that she wouldn't know if we took a particular book of the shelf, as long as we returned it, if we didn't want her to know we were reading it. She purposely brought us books that she didn't care for herself, because she thought we might find them valuable or enjoyable.
And if we wanted to read something she thought might upset or disturb us, she would explain why. She wouldn't stop us from reading it - just ask us to check in with her, to talk through it.
And so when I read something that upset or disturbed me, I would go to her. She would listen and talk through it with me.
If she said she didn't think I would like something, or that a book might disturb me, or that she thought I should wait until I was older, I listened to her.
She didn't need restrictions or control to protect me. Because she proved I could trust her.
Controlling kids is never about "protecting" them. It's just about control.
I think it’s genuinely worrying how these people are so hyperfixated on domestic violence like that’s not something you wish to happen on a woman you apparently like let alone any woman
i actually think it's legitimately problematic that there are people who have been led to believe that every man will automatically hurt any woman they come into contact with. people have got to separate systemic issues with patriarchy from individual men. because among other issues, it sets women up to accept abuse from men because it conditions them to believe that that is all they will ever get (and it informs men that it is acceptable, because it's the default). neither of these things are true.
You were mentioning how cruel people on the internet have become. I’m just amazed at how selfish. Covid started to expose this but a lot of discourse seems like it comes from a selfish place. If I can’t have x, then no one deserves it. Or if I’m not happy, no one deserves to be happy.
It is really unfortunate.
yeah, i think covid fundamentally broke society in a lot of ways. it's like we had this brief moment of unity and then everything just got worse instead of going down that path.
Speaking from experience when you’re not actively Depressed the ups and downs of life feel soooo much less treacherous. Like you’re not fighting the exhaustion and hopelessness constantly, makes it so much easier to comb out of the smaller holes and not catastrophize and overthink. Like when you’re depressed you’re expending so much energy trying to stay afloat
yup!!!! and also, idk, in my experience, it’s really nice when your feelings come back. like sharper but less frequent lows that also let you have highs and keep you mostly in the middle most of the time are (at least to me) a lot more appealing than kind of a dull hum of bad all the time.
I’ve seen several people talking about how it makes them feel weird that Dog Years, a song that is explicitly about suicidal ideation, is something Halsey performs as a sexy song, and while that’s completely fair, I personally think the performance style fits the song really well, even if it’s uncomfortable? (In fact, I think the discomfort is a purposeful, important element of the whole song)
Discussion of suicidal ideation and sex as a unenthusiastic performance below the cut
The first time I heard Dog Years I called it “evil petplay” when explaining it to my friends because that imagery seems so deliberate. Halsey’s voice is getting all husky and low as they croon about what a good dog they’ve been and how they like a tight leash, and especially given their known love of/interest in kink, that takes your mind to a very specific and imo intentional place. But they turn it on its head — if they’re going to be a dog, then they’re an old, tired, weak, sickly one and they want to be put out of their misery and euthanized like you would any pet in that state, and that is very not sexy. It’s a visceral image that can be quite upsetting and uncomfortable, all the more so when paired with the very sexually charged chorus. It makes that chorus feel like more of a reluctant performance — she doesn’t feel sexy, she’s not in the mood, but it’s what’s expected of her and so she’s going along with it and hey, if she’s a good girl maybe she’ll get lucky and they’ll put her down. “I’m not here, I’m somewhere else” — they’re going through the motions of the performance and playing along with what’s expected of them but their heart is not in it, and they feel nothing towards it.
And I feel like that plays into the entire theme of The Great Impersonator as a whole? The whole idea of the expected performance and what that experience does to a person: going through the motions because you’re an entertainer and your job is to entertain and put on a show, but the whole time you’re in the darkest place you’ve ever been both physically and mentally, so sick that you truly expect you aren’t going to survive it. But you still have to do the show, you still have to make it look good, you still have to be appealing to the crowd, and so you have to play the good girl who loves her tight leash because that’s fun and sexy, and the rest of it is something you keep to yourself because people don’t want to hear about that.
I really like the staging of Dog Years on the FMLT tour for that reason. There is something so visceral about Halsey sitting in sexy leather lingerie while literally chained to the stage singing about how much they want someone to just kill them. Sure, it’s sexy, but she is stuck there performing for you, even as she’s voicing some of the darkest thoughts a person can have about themselves. How does that make you feel? Is it hot? Are you enjoying it? Should you be? That just fits the vibe I get from that song so well.
Of course, I could be fully misreading and Halsey could have had completely different intentions for this song, but that’s just how I’ve seen it?
dog years is about getting fucked, bound, beaten, and gagged by a sadist dom/domme of a God. And begging, pleading, with all your might that it will stop if you just behave. And if it doesn’t stop, at least just let me die. dog years is about being leashed to the stairwell, trapped in the house. Lighting up at the sound of the door knob jingling, hoping your Terrible Master has finally arrived home with a smile for the first time in years to ask you “wanna go for a ride in the caaaaaaar?!” but he doesn’t. He tightens the leash. you’ve done everything right and you’ve behaved yourself. Sat when told. Ignored the mailmen. Down girl. But it doesn’t matter. You’re gonna waste away on the stairwell. You’re gonna dream about the ‘farm’ where you’ve heard the other dogs get to go when their Owner God doesn’t want them anymore. The fun place. You don’t care if it’s a really just a bullet in the head. Your keeper is wicked and your body is oppressing you, you didn’t ask to be kept. You used to be the sort of person who would fuck and fight and kick to your death. But you’re going to meet it like a scared and submissive animal. Eat the chocolate from the hand of your killer and wag your tail. You’re nothing.
This is how I originally wrote it. One of those that starts as a poem and then begs to be a song. I posted a fragment of this on tumblr a while back, but here’s the initial piece in its entirety 🤍
olivia rodrigo set herself up years ago as a young female pop icon and she just tricked millions into listening to melodic punk + alt fem rock. love her for that.
baratheonpilled
origamiaround
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