sometimes I feel like hope is the only thing that makes a difference
when i was doing my silly little drawings at 15, the world was my oyster and the silly little things could blossom into a career, or renown, or at least some kind of one odd event bragging rights
it was much easier to create when it carried a promise with itself
now it’s hard to find the time and energy to make my silly little drawings for their own sake, when I’m almost sure nothing will ever come of it
the thing is, I still try to create. even the silly little things.
Ah yes, one visit to the tag after a week and only two anxiety attacks, because people are still fighting. Still, things are starting to calm down. Which is good, because watching what’s happening in the real world gives me more than enough stuff to worry about. And stuff that’s on the news is still more important than dividing a fan space into some Japanese-style soto-uchi divisions. That said...
Let me rant about art portraying risky topics.
I still stand by my opinion I stated here, which can be extended from shipping to other aspects of creative stuff:
Art can be dangerous. The artist has to acknowledge that and warn you. They do not have to change your art to accommodate you. Reflecting something doesn’t mean condoning it. Retweets don’t equal endorsement and all that. Life imitates art, sure, but art imitates life just as well.
And it’s important, oh my GOD, how it is important for art to imitate life. Even in its bad parts and monstrosities. You know how many World War II books was I forced to read in school? How much of my national pride is based on people from my grandparents’ generation dying? And there was always art about it. About the shootings, killings, massacres, mass graves, living in the tunnels, dying out of starvation because ally humanitarian forces decided to drop toys instead of food over besieged Warsaw. But then, America didn’t have a real war on its territory for a long time. Sure, there were wars, but not the visceral, real ones that happened on your stomping grounds. It’s not the same. You have stories about the soldiers in foreign land. We have stories about civilians being shot by the Nazis two blocks down. And you know what? We learned from these stories. We embraced them. We were hurt, but they ultimately made us stronger. And we take pride with them.
What I’m saying is: don’t turn off the TV because Harry Potter is in abusive home. Watch the story resolve. You don’t know enough to judge it yet. But if you want to quit? Cool.
Ultimately: You choose the art you consume. Just remember that the creator doesn’t have to cater to you and it doesn’t automatically make the story terrible or unfit for consumption.
Funny, how after reading advice on “content” things get less personal. I tried to find a compelling topic sentence to start a personal blog post. I don’t have a plan, no more than a vague idea of what I want to put here. It’s odd and refreshing. So, let’s start again.
There is something unusual in overspending on things, even more so when it is an unexpected journey that you take alone. When I’ve heard about the podcasting meetup in London, I just knew that was it: the event that will finally yank me away from the monotony of my life. I quickly did the math (it was too much, but I could afford it) and booked a flight.
The closer I was to the event, the less prepared I felt. I had a list of things to do and one by one, instead of crossing them out as done, I gave up on them due to lack of time. On the day before, while at work on a late afternoon shift, I chickened out of staying with a friend and I booked a hostel. If this was going to be my trip, it had to be just mine. I didn’t want to talk about the shards of shared past with people who had (wisely) moved away. I didn’t have it in me to weight my doubts against their undying positivity.
At midnight I got home, packed, showered, slept for an hour and left for my 6 am flight. I didn’t forget anything. Six and a half hours later I was sitting on the grass near the Green Park station with people I wanted to meet.
The meetup was absolutely, positively wonderful. Everyone was nice and the fact that I came from Poland seemed crazy enough that I didn’t even have to bribe them with fanart. Although I tried anyway. I didn’t really know what to say, not wanting to talk shop and not having a list of questions, so I just enjoyed the sun and did my best at small talk.
After the picnic, I tagged along to the venue where Wooden Overcoats were performing later with Lauren. It was in one of the most stunningly ugly buildings I’ve ever seen in East London. The city around was buzzing with life. The people at the fundraiser were generous. From everyone involved in the event you could feel this buzzing mix of excitement and worry, the backstage equivalent of the crisp air right before the rain. I tried to get involved, but mostly I tried not to disturb, as it was incredibly kind of them to let me be there.
The truth is, even if they didn’t like me, they didn’t let me feel it. So I decided, against my anxiety, to just take them at face value. People seemed genuinely interested in me and very encouraging whenever I mentioned any of my projects, and when I faceplanted in my hostel bed that day, I felt tired, but incredibly happy.
I woke up early and met one of my roommates. Unlike the others that seemed to stay over since London Pride or some other epic party, he wasn’t as tattooed or as young. He introduced himself as Giovanni. He was a painter. With a heavy accent, he told me he was trying to find some work and contacts in the city to exhibit his work. When I mentioned I do some illustrations, he promised to put me in touch with his Polish agent.
‘I wish I could do that, just move here. Or travel the world,’ I said.
‘But why not?’
‘I... have a life in Poland. A job, a husband,’ I answered and immediately felt like a coward. “What’s the holdup?” from the Millenial Podcast echoed in my ears and I realised I have no good excuses.
Giovanni went out to move to another hostel and I stayed there, waiting for my hair to dry and my phone to charge.
When I finally hit the streets, feet hurting despite how comfy my shoes were supposed to be, I decided to wander around the city as much as I could before I had to be anywhere. Despite my plans to visit a museum or an art gallery, I ended up just grabbing lunch with a local friend. Our catch up lasted several hours and she invited me to her office and we chilled out on the roof in central London. Then I just chilled on Trafalgar Square till I had to catch my coach back to the airport.
All in all, the only thing I really wanted to bring from London was that determination, the feeling hat I can do anything. And maybe I did.
Special thanks to everyone who talked to me in London. You gave me so much hope, you have no idea. Really, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Close Encounters of the Weird Kind - Revisiting the Hephaestus 20/28
Ah yes, The Paranoia Game. For some, a favourite episode. For others, the one that awakened something in them, probably. Blinded Hera, gentleman duo and Commander trying to get through another day. Let’s see what episode 20 has in stock for us when I poke it with a vine stick.
Spoiler alert through episode 28, because yeah.
Note: this version is supplemented with text quotes of the script rather than images, because my Windows decided to quit and I’m too lazy to figure things out on Linux right now. The images will be added later, probably.
Teamwork?
It was Eiffel who convinced Minkowski to let him work with Hilbert. Why did he do that? No, seriously, why? There was a million reasons why it was unlikely: Doctor was traitor, experimented on the previous crew, experimented on Eiffel. And yet, when Doug sees Minkowski working over the recording for the upteenth time, he asks her to go and fix stuff, with the man who is most likely slowly killing him. Sure, it is mentioned that it might’ve been Hera’s idea, but it’s never confirmed.
And, honestly? Eiffel isn’t even that guarded when it comes to the repairs:
HILBERT
Hrmmm... Socket wrench.
EIFFEL
Socket wrench.
We hear Eiffel handing over the tool to Hilbert, then more FASTENING. After a moment -
EIFFEL (CONT’D)
How much longer?
HILBERT
Officer Eiffel, are the handcuffs really necessary? My work would -
EIFFEL
You bet your ass they're necessary.
Compare it to episode 25:
HILBERT
May I have wire-cutters?
EIFFEL
Why do you need them?
HILBERT
(fed up)
To cut a wire. Really, Eiffel!
Not that things (LOVELACE!) didn’t happen between these episodes, but boy, was it calm for Hephaestus’ standards. It was unbelievable, sure, but not too catastrophical.
So, why did Eiffel decide to be pretty much one on one with Hilbert? Was it because he was counting on gathering some information? Maybe. After all, as guarded as Hilbert is, he drops some hints about his past in Doug’s presence:
EIFFEL
Shut up. I can still downgrade your quarters from Shawshank to Stalag Luft.
HILBERT
Threats only work if the threatened person knows what -
Does that mean that Hilbert knows things about prisons or WW2 prisoner camps? Probably! There was a lot of things happening in the Soviet Union and I wouldn’t be surprised if Hilbert (or, then, Dmitri Ilyich) was subjected to some government cruelty.
The Incompetent
Throughout the episode, Doug is systematically reminded of how ohers find him incompetent. Of course, actions speak louder than words and Minkowski trusting him with that task is a huge proof of confidence, it doesn’t help that everyone mentions how terrible he is:
MINKOWSKI
And you comms me the very instant you screw up.
EIFFEL
Hey! What makes you so sure -
MINKOWSKI
Because you are you and he is he and I am me and we are all together.
EIFFEL
There's like a gazillion systems on this station, nobody knows what they all do!
HERA
I do.
HILBERT
So do I.
EIFFEL
Shut up!
Poor guy doesn’t even trust himself:
HILBERT
Have you checked your pockets?
EIFFEL
(snaps)
OF COURSE I'VE CHECKED -
He stops halfway through, and we hear him PATTING HIMSELF DOWN and CHECKING HIS POCKETS. After a second -
EIFFEL (CONT'D)
OF COURSE I'VE CHECKED MY POCKETS.
It’s worth to note how adamant Doug is to prove it’s not his fault when he starts stripping down. I can’t wait to learn what did this guy do to get himself into all this.
What did we learn here?
Eiffel has allergies that supposedly react to Specimen 34
Minkowski has deep, mostly undiscovered reservoirs of sarcasm
Hera can neither confirm nor deny if there is someone else on the ship; she says she’d sense another human, but she didn’t sense the sealed off rooms
while Hera’s optics were disconnected, Minkowski was piloting the station
Hilbert rationalizes everything he can’t comprehend (compare with when he saw Lovelace in ep 22)
Eiffel was supposed to take care of the backup life support processor. He didn’t do it.
Instead of turning off said processor, Eiffel decided to use a fire extinguisher
Goo goo g’joob is a reference to a song by The Beatles
the whole situation lasted several hours, and Hera was blind for the time of the repairs
One that works great, but on which I am physically unable to write (and it’s a desktop, so no moving it)
One laptop so old, that I have to wait a few seconds so the words I typed actually appear on the screen (bc someone decided it’s cool to upgrade it to Win10)
The Killing Type - Revisiting the Hephaestus 19/28
Welcome back! This time I will happily dissect a very underrated episode that, when you dig into it, is very polarizing - Let’s Kill Hilbert. Most of it will be probably a recount of the reasons why I don’t trust a certain AI, so you’ve been warned.
Spoiler alert up to episode 29, because better safe than sorry.
Distrust
The episode starts merely few hours after Minkowski and Eiffel found out about Hilbert being Selberg. Everyone is still uneasy, sure. Hera’s been back up for two weeks and... wait a minute. Why is she even upset so suddenly? She was hellbent on doing fine just few hours ago, when she almost vented Minkowski and Eiffel out of the station. Is it because she realizes how bad she is? Or because they will be deciding on what to do with Hilbert? It’s unclear.
Now, I know there are many Hera fans, but bear with me - she makes no sense here. She’s angry and agitated (traits she’s known for since we saw her argue with Minkowski), but isn’t putting everyone’s life in danger twice in one day a bit too much?
HOLY SHIT INDEED. This is the most insulting thing Hera can probably do, considering her decorum protocols. If you ever need to imagine Hera swear, please just relisten to that line, because Michaela does some magic right there.
The Laws
Robots that don’t respect Asimov’s Laws are the reason why we can’t have nice things. Look at any given medium with a robot or an AI that is considered a threat: 2001: Space Odyssey, Portal, even Chappie. And, well, Hera is not an exception here. The laws stand as follows:
A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
What our dear AI did basically broke the first two laws. She lied to Eiffel (and disobeyed Minkowski) in order to kill Hilbert. All the while KNOWING that she’s malfunctioning and being aware that she may endanger the rest of the crew (again, on the same day!). And did I mention that she almost let the Hephaestus fall into the star? Because she did, being too proud and stuck-up (and probably too scared) to listen to anyone.
Was it hard to realise she’s not as omniscent as she used to be? Probably. Was Hera terrified? Sure. But that does not excuse plain lying to Eiffel and almost getting him killed:
That malicious, manipulative piece of programming! By that point in the episode, Hera had that HAL 9000 vibe slowly rising and I wasn’t sure why I don’t trust her... but then I remembered episode 3:
I mean, she didn’t promise anything, but it’s still an evil move. Look:
Quick recap: Hera is unfamiliar with being wrong (even though she was wrong A LOT recently) and tries to blame Eiffel. Eiffel is terrified, but still trusts Hera. Minkowski just tries to stop the catastrophe without putting the blame on anyone.
Commanding mode
Speaking of Minkowski, have you noticed that after season one finale she really let herself be more human? Still, whenever a situation arises, she transforms in a split second and then she’s the person that won’t take no for an answer.
She calls Hera “Officer” and lets her know she’s a valuable member of the crew. Then she proceeds to reassure her. It works, of course. Thankfully.
I am not sure though if Minkowski is fully aware of what she does, or is it rather a matter of instinct or years of training. Either way, she uses that power sparcely, only when needed. And, as we’ll see in later episodes, it doesn’t work on Lovelace.
What did we learn here:
Hera caused 3 near catastrophes in one day
after all that, Eiffel still calls her ‘darling’
Minkowski is neither opposed nor too keen on killing Hilbert
the amount of Hera’s trust issues here is over the roof
there are (were) no O2 canisters in the bridge
it’s indicated that Hera glitches more while lying
the “blinking red light of doom” on the bridge’s console is hydraulics
I talked with @smilodonmeow and this thing happened. Not really shippy, but implied Loveberg. Unbeta’d, tw: blood, medical procedures (kind of).
AO3 link: [here]
First time he approached her when she was awake, he had a knife. In hindsight, it was careless of him. Or maybe he wanted her to kill him? Unimportant. He knew Lovelace, just as he knew how dangerous she could be. She retrieved the tool from him in seconds and pointed it, now a weapon, at his throat.
"Who are you?" She growled. She sat up on the bed trying to threaten him, the strain of it and sudden pain clear on her face. He pretended not to notice.
"Urrrgh. My name is Alexander Hilbert. I am your doctor," he said, voice filled with impatience. She didn't like the answer, apparently. The blade touched his throat. "I'm sorry, wrong answer, doctor Selberg."
"Am not Selberg."
She bared her teeth like a feral animal. "Then who are you?"
"I told you, I'm doctor Alexander Hilbert."
"No. That's not right either. You're a... you're a murderer. That's what you are." Her voice was thin and weak. "Did you come here to finally kill me?" her hand shook slightly and a bead of blood gathered at his throat.
"No. If I wanted to, I'd have killed you while you were still sedated," he paused, assessing the situation and deciding on what to say next. "And maybe I should have had," came out through gritted teeth. "Sadly, I just want to change your bandages."
"Don't you dare to... don't you dare to touch me..." she got pale. High heart rate, low pressure, bleeding. Her hand wavered and Dmitri managed to catch it before she slit his throat. She was dangerous even while fainting from exhaustion. The doctor chewed on his lower lip as he placed her hand down, gently, then inspected her wounds. One part reopened, but there was little damage. It would be enough to strap her down.
He touched his neck and looked at his reddened fingers. Maybe he should let Minkowski change the bandages next time. That would be a smart thing to do. Probably.
But he deserved this. He deserved whatever torture that woman devised for him.
Next time he checked up on her he had a knife. It probably wasn't a smart move. But maybe he'd just forgotten to put it away? Hrm. Maybe.
THE RULES ARE AS FOLLOWS: GO TO PAGE 7 OF A WIP, SKIP TO THE 7TH LINE, SHARE 7 LINES(OR HOWEVER MUCH YOU WANT) AND TAG 7 MORE WRITERS TO CONTINUE THE CHALLENGE.
I got tagged by JW of the wonderful urbandragon.
Yeah, this is a Loveberg scene (it’s the only WIP in English that has page 7)
They were in his quarters. He sat in his sleeping pod, as Lovelace straddled him. He wasn't quite comfortable, but that was not his concern at the moment.
- Slow down, - her voice wavered.
- If you wish.
Selberg released her uniform and traced kisses down her neck.
- Prekrasna, - he whispered. Beautiful. And so she was in his eyes. Lovelace moved slowly, delicate outlines of muscles showing beneath her skin. Selberg could name each and every one of them, and in several languages. What he had in his arms was an archetype, a perfect female form.
I tag: @imjusthereforthepodcast, @harpers-mirror, @bxdcubes, @weirdmageddon-wendy, @donthavesexwithsam, @buhtpatrol, @mr-reblogbutton
