Hello to all,
i have a MPB from 2019 and my journey starts with the Update from Catalina to BigSur. Some Day the MacBook doesn't connect to the intern Keyboard. the is an error like "the keyboard isn't connected". So I need to wait 10-30 sek. to use the Keys to type my password on login screen. Some Day this issue vanished and after the Update to Monterey.
But then, sometimes my Touchpad doesn't do a "click" and the light of the Keyboard is only on before I tap "Enter" after type my Passwort in.
And now I never can use the Touchpad with a Click, is only use it with "tap" so it is working but it is very lame. and I need to tap tap tap sometimes.
Working in bad light is also not possible because the Keyboard doesn't light up.
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I try a VRAM PRAM etc. Reset, clean install, Backup from Time Maschine.
GeniusBar -> No problem with the Hardware, no "known" issue with this Type of MBP, 600$ for checkup without success guarantee...
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There is no setting in Sonoma for all the settings I have. I can tap on "brighter keyboard" on my Touch Bar with no change. And the Butten on top, next to the Battery Symbol always snap back when I want to use it.
​
is there Someone who fixed one of the Problem? Should I install back to Catalina? But which settings I need to do to prevent this issue? Is the Someone who use a MBP 13-inch, 2019, Two Thunderbolt 3 ports who can adjust the light of the Keyboard or use the click on touchpad?
For the one who fixed, I will send 25$ or same worth of local currency in Apple gift card Code (when viable)

General Content Warning for this entire write-up, so everyone can have a good time: - Extensive discussion of topics related to mental illness, including self-harm, suicidal ideation, mania / bipolar disorder, distortion of truth, medication, involuntary hospitalization, medical abuse in a hospital setting, and romanticization of mental illness. - Non-detailed mentions of domestic violence (implied abuse by intimate partner and parents) and sexual / gender-based violence (including rape, child sexual assault, grooming, sex trafficking and torture). These last few items feature prominently in one installment, pertaining to a work of fiction; descriptions may be a bit more specific/detailed in that segment, but not graphic. - Mentions and quotes of unchill bigoted behavior, including ableism (mental and physical), white nonsense / white fragility / racism, fatphobia, prejudice against drug users.
Additional CWs may be added at the beginning of specific segments when relevant. While these are heavy topics, the tone of this write-up is generally light-hearted and aims to entertain. If this approach sounds uncomfortable or trivializing, this may not be a good read for you; please trust your gut!
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Picture this: it's the early 2010s, somewhere in the western world. Instagram is a novelty, Harvey Weinstein runs Hollywood, almost no one on Earth leans one way or the other about RNA vaccines, and Donald Trump is that one real estate guy you vaguely remember from Home Alone 2. New player Lady Gaga is the most interesting thing to have happened to pop since Madonna, and the whole industry is attempting to catch up; Miley Cyrus is the chick who used to be on Hannah Montana; Melanie Martinez hasn't hatched yet. The time of Oddball Concept Divas is dawning just below the horizon.
You're a Bowie-loving student who skipped goth night at the club to tag along with your art school friends for a very special evening. You're a giddy sixteen-year old rocking cat ears, purple Wet 'n Wild eyeliner, a polyester petticoat, and a coffin-shaped backpack. You're an effete theater kid who sewed his own waistcoat for the occasion, but won't dare wear it to school the next day. You're a buff, bearded dude in a Venom shirt who's trying not to look too excited, since your girlfriend supposedly had to drag you here. You're a slightly bemused parent leaning against the back wall of the venue, sipping a warm half-pint, wondering if this isn't all a bit dark for a tween. (“It's called 'Victoriandustrial', mom,” you've been told in the car, “and it's not dark, it's art.”)
On stage is a pink-haired woman, with red porcelain-doll lips and a heart painted on her cheek. Among a set of antique consoles, twee tchotchkes, teacups and plastic rats, she pounces and twirls in glittery platform boots, tattered striped stockings, and a tightly laced crystal-studded corset that looks like it's splattered in blood. This is ostensibly a concert, but there is no live band. Where one would expect a drum kit or a bass, three bedazzled burlesque vixens act as back-up singers and dancers, with the occasional vaudeville act – a fire-twirling number, a fan dance, throwing pastries and spitting tea into the audience. Lots of wholesome girl-on-girl kissing, too. The music on the backing track is a genre-bender of clanging beats and beeps, lofty orchestral strings, and the frantic hammering of a MIDI harpsichord, as the pink-haired frontlady sings of heartache and betrayal and drowning. Think if the Brontë sisters had invented industrial rock.
The audience gasps in excitement when the lady whips out a vamped-out wireless electric violin. With rockstar cool and virtuoso poise, she leans into the instrument, touches the bow to the strings, and tears out a single plaintive, impeccably distorted high note. Then her fingers go wild, and for a few seconds, everything is perfect suspended animation. Uncannily perfect, almost. Just behind you, you hear someone whisper: “Wait, is she miming it?”
*
Forgive the theatrical intro, but I had to set the stage for... the drama. And I do mean drama in the thespian sense of the term! This, ladies and gentlemen, is a Shakespeare play: wordy and confusing, but it's neat how the main character's opening lines foreshadow the tragic climax. It's a Greek tragedy for the digital age – if, instead of killing his dad and banging his mom, after becoming king, Oedipus was doomed to becoming uniquely obnoxious. It's The Rocky Horror Show under the grim direction of Samuel Beckett. Like all good theatre, this story is about how fiction bleeds into reality – through the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves, and how all the world's a stage and all that.

WHO IS EMILIE AUTUMN, AND WHAT'S THE DRAMA?

Here's the Broadway Weekly blurb, so you can decide whether the show is worth your time: Emilie Autumn, also known as EA, is a US-American alternative singer-songwriter, author, and actor. She became known in alt circles in the mid-2010s for her violin skills, unique fashion, outspoken stances on feminism and mental health advocacy, and the way she dramatized and sublimated her own life story in her art. In 2009, she self-published a semi-autobiographical book that became a sort of bible to her creative universe and fandom. She toured extensively and enjoyed niche, but considerable success until the mid-2010s – with hordes of devoted fans adopting her fashion sense and lingo, and crediting her music for getting them through dark times.
For the past twelve years or so, EA has mostly been focused on adapting her book into a stage musical, releasing two more albums of songs intended for the libretto. At the time of this write-up, it has been six years since the last album and a decade since the last live show. Although she still talks about the musical as an ongoing, Broadway-bound project, in recent years, she's often gone dark for months at a time on social media. There is no forum, no large Discord, no active community to speak of; comments are restricted on her currently-inactive Instagram and blog.
Who is she hiding from, you ask? Why, you've probably guessed it: the hordes of devoted fans whom she infuriates every time she does anything.
And what are they furious about? (Or frustrated, flummoxed, or plain ol' flabbergasted?) Well, it depends who you ask. For some, it's disappointment in her artistic and marketing choices (what are fans for?). Others cite unkept promises or absurd release delays. For others yet, it's the AliBaba merch sold at jaw-dropping markups with three paragraphs of purple prose in the product description.. Or maybe it was the angry rants on Twitter? Okay, it's the casual bigotry that she staunchly denies or dismisses. It's the criticism she can't take. It's the fact that she won't stop lying about her own life! Either way, I don't personally know of any fanbase that has been so consistently exasperated, for so many years, and for such a diverse array of reasons, by their favorite artist.
In truth, each individual mini-scandal isn't all that juicy or scandalous. Nobody died, no one got sued; nothing of significant value, other than time and sanity, was taken away from anyone. What I find interesting here is the years and years of bizarre parasocial codependency (and antagonism) between a fragile woman who became addicted to her own poppycock, and an obsessive fanbase who cared way too much not to take it personally.
Before we even get to EA's relationship with her fans, you're going to need some lore about EA herself. A “Hobby History” of sorts. Strap in! There's romance, tragedy, laughter, character development, variety numbers, numerous costume changes, (actual) celebrity cameos – and based on how long this OpenOffice doc already is at the time of my writing this, we're probably going to need several intermissions too. This write-up is link-heavy, both with receipts and with additional watching and listening material. Not all of them need to be clicked in order to understand the story; I'm merely providing the rabbit holes. I've tried to make things more easily navigable by including a little glossary about the nature of links; one emoji-indicator carries over the next link until I use a different one.
🪞 = picture / visual 🎵 = music 📺 = video 📝 = primary source / receipt 🔍 = press article / write-up / further reading 🎤 = song lyrics / spoken word audio 🐀 = anonymous fan confession 🦠 = reaction / meme

BAROQUE BEGINNINGS: THE VIOLIN YEARS

VampireFreaks: Do you ever smile to yourself knowing your old music teachers might be seeing your success? EA: I smile to myself knowing they might be dead. (Long-lost interview, late 2000s)

Born in Malibu in the late 70s, Emilie Autumn, often known as EA, was originally trained as a classical violinist.
By her account, she started playing the violin at age 4, and was homeschooled at age 9 so that she could focus on her instrument. After stints at various performing arts colleges, some rather prestigious, she dropped out of formal schooling in her mid-to-late teens to embark on a solo violin career.
In 2001, after disappointing experiences with major record companies, she created her own label, Traitor Records, and released a EP of chamber music, with minor success. The stuffy industry of classical music didn't “get” the twenty-something manic-pixie-fiddler, who played Bach just a bit too fast, but with electric stage presence – wearing period corsets, combat boots, and the occasional fairy wings. But EA evidently knew that there was an audience for that somewhere.
And that somewhere – drumroll – was Illinois.

VW: What do you most hope to accomplish? EA: Everything. (‘Virtual World Radio’ Interview, 2002 📝)

ENCHANT ERA: BRUSHES WITH FAME ON FAERIE WINGS

What if I'm an ocean, far too shallow, much too deep? (...) What if I'm a siren singing gentlemen to sleep? (“What If”, 2003 🎵)

Soon, EA relocated from her native California to Chicago. There, in between odd jobs, she veered away from baroque and began performing her own “fantasy rock” stylings at piano bars, holiday fairs and local venues – and building a decent following through her LiveJournal, website, and IRL friends. People loved the whole renegade genius thing, loved the violin, loved the nightingale voice, loved the fairy wings and costumes🪞, loved the handmade merch and general disdain for The Business, loved her deadpan humor and bookish nerdiness. In 2003, she released her first LP, Enchant 🎵 – an ethereal, introspective indie-pop joint, born under the sign of Imogen Heap, with a moon in Fiona Apple and Tori Amos rising.
Everything about EA's act was exquisitely DIY, personal, and intricate. For instance, the Enchant booklet folded out into a Masquerade-style puzzle of her own design.🪞 The first person to solve the puzzle would win “the Wings, Ruff, Fan and Scepter of the Faerie Queene herself” – all lovingly handmade by EA, and depicted in peak 2003 graphic design on the booklet. For months, YEARS after Enchant came out, people poured over the cryptic metaphors and literary references, the historical symbolism and visual puns of the artwork, looking for hints and patterns. They read every fan chat, every interview, every relevant Shakespeare play, hoping to decipher the inner workings of EA's mind and find new keys to the puzzle. Sure, it's been two decades now and no one's ever managed to crack the damn thing 🔍, which is by now widely assumed to be flawed and unsolvable; still, it's the kind of zany, brainy, immersive experience that tends to cultivate a niche but hyper-invested fanbase.
So it makes perfect sense that underground aficionada and internet frontierswoman Courtney Love (she haunted public AOL chatrooms as early as 1995! 🔍) would take an interest. Just a few months after releasing Enchant, EA was off to southern France to record violin and vocals for Courtney's new solo album; a few months after that, in early 2004, she joined Courtney's band on a brief tour to promote the record.
Alas, no cigar: America's Sweetheart flopped. Maybe because most of those summer recording sessions were ultimately lost to an engineering oopsie; maybe because Courtney was having an especially rough year – and going through all the “rock-bottom moments” that she would discuss in group therapy, later that fall, when she began her sobriety journey at court-ordered rehab. EA, a former homeschool kid who had never done drugs, seems to remember the tour as a generally terrifying experience; she later stated, with some bitterness, that the experience was not worth the time it had taken away from her own solo career.
But it was a good year for TV appearances! Here she is on the David Letterman Show in March 2004, rocking out on a perfectly inaudible violin as C-Love fades in and out of her own body. 📺 She also landed a cute tutorial segment on HGTV's Crafters: Coast to Coast, making sushi-shaped soap and fairy wings. In December, she accompanied Billy Corgan for a Christmas song on a Chicago station.
All of this was chronicled in quirky, wordy posts on her blog – interspersed with late-night musings about casual misogyny in the media 📝, including against Courtney, handmade crafts and clothing auctions, candid pictures of outings with friends in Chicago... as well as periodic updates on the progress of her next opus: Opheliac.

God, too much to even begin to tell right now, and I’m recording anyway, but I can give you this update: I just finished yesterday recording violin parts and backing vocals for B. Corgan’s first single (...) More later, recording piano for my new track “GOD HELP ME”…why do I torture myself with my own self-inflicted drama…or is it a way of exorcizing…yes, I’ll go with that one for now…☠ (“Whirlwind...”, December 2004)

By that point, EA was starting to be more open about her conflicted relationship with what would later be diagnosed as bipolar disorder. The galaxy-brain moments, the trance of creative frenzies, the liminal high of going three days without sleep, the magic... the crippling sensitivity, the restless anxiety, the Zoloft that one both needs and hates, the ever-lurking suicidal thoughts. As EA gradually revealed over the course of 2004, Opheliac would be an exploration of the “mad woman” archetype. The title was a medical neologism for “the syndrome of Ophelia”, as in the tragic character from Hamlet 🔍, driven to insanity and ultimate self-destruction by the fuckboys who rule her life. Here's EA explaining it in her own words. 🎤 The album would dive into how psychiatry and romantic relationships are governed by old misogynistic tropes, and how the “mentally ill” label is used to silence and downplay the justified anger and hurt of abused women.
In a striking case of life imitating art (are you picking up on the theme yet?), this concept was about to become more painfully relevant than ever to EA's personal existence.
CW: implied partner abuse, suicidal ideation.

DISENCHANTMENT: A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS

In the lake, you will find me Behind your house, behind your house (...) My ocean is bluer than the heart you had to break My sea is deeper than your lake (“In the Lake”, 2005 🎵)

Where were we? Ah yes, the Christmas song with Billy Corgan at the end of 2004. Around that time, EA was also recording violin parts and backing vocals for his upcoming solo album. 🎵 They had presumably connected through Courtney, they both lived in Chicago, I guess something clicked.
In January of 2005, EA abruptly went off of her meds, broke up with her live-in boyfriend-slash-bassist, packed up her violin and corsets, and moved into Corgan's mansion. In March of 2005, she posted very melancholy lyrics about drowning in a lake to haunt a deceitful lover. The post was entitled“In The Lake (The Zoloft is calling my name...)” 🎤📝. Later, after the song was released as a B-side, EA disclosed that it had been intended as a public suicide note 📝.
Blog entries from that time touched on a “whirlwind of action and emotion”, “changing residences” and feeling like “you're falling through the air, but you don't know if you'll hit the water or the rocks” 📝. But, EA being an expert vague-poster, her posts remained very elusive about what was going on, who was involved, and how it impacted her. (The specifics were pieced together years later, by fan-led forensic efforts – which, obviously, involved ascertaining the existence of an actual body of water in Billy Corgan's backyard 📝).
Whatever happened over the course of those months was never disclosed explicitly by EA, but is widely assumed to have inspired songs such as “Liar” 🎤, “Misery Loves Company”, “Let the Record Show”, and “I Know Where You Sleep”, , recorded that same spring. A solid quarter of the Opheliac tracklist – which was shaping out to be decidedly darker and grittier than Enchant.

You can lie to the papers, you can hide from the press (...) I know your tainted flesh, I know your filthy soul I know each trick you played, whore you laid, dream you stole I know the bed in the room in the wall in the house Where you got what you wanted and ruined it all I know the secrets that you keep I know where you sleep

Even as her personal blog posts grew more somber, nihilistic, and generally fed-up in the face of what she called “the worst breakdown of her young life”, even as the songwriting process had her rummage through traumatic memories [CW: CSA] 🎤, and even as the Corgan-adjacent trauma was compounded by various rushed moves and broken friendships over that summer and fall, EA remained remarkably (some might say frantically) prolific.
Other than progress on Opheliac, 2005 saw multiple violin collaborations with alternative bands, numerous auctions of, mh, visually strident “punktorian” fashion pieces 📝🪞 (“STRESS COUTURE!” 🦠📺), and an updated re-issue of her 2001 poetry collection, complete with audiobook. ("...The book has been selling like crack in a limo with Courtney Love (and believe me, I know)." - Ooooof, EA. Low-hanging fruit. 📝)
In October, she started recruiting:

WANTED: Hot goth bitch to join touring band of other hot goth bitches. (...) Must be able to: sing backing vocals in a wide range with excellent pitch, growl à la Kittie, handle minimal keyboard parts, push buttons/turn knobs with killer attitude, be extremely comfortable on stage in bloomers and a corset, reside in the Chicago area, know the difference between a crumpet and a scone, have at least one hidden talent. 📝

By winter, most of her blog post titles were written in THIS FORMAT!!!!!!!! In December, she announced that “Emilie Autumn and the Bloody Crumpets” would preview Opheliac live at the Double Door in Chicago, on Friday the 13th (ooh!) of the following month. “We are coming to destroy your world,” the post threatened enticingly. "Miss it and suffer. We really don't want to hurt you.” The flyer advertised a dress code:

Masquerade, Ophelias, green girls, Victorian insane asylum escapees, princes of Denmark, bloomered harlots and rogues – general burlesque ribaldry!

Exit diaphanous butterfly wings and elven tiaras 📺, enter the haunted murder-doll with the blood-red heart on her cheek; out with Elizabethan chamber-pop, in with Victoriandustrial. The fairy had to die to make way for the iconic, the sublime, the tragic, the ridiculous, the positively bananas...

OPHELIAC ERA: LET THE RECORD SHOW

EA: What's more interesting, and what's more fun to watch, than a crazy girl's self-destruction? Nothing. Nothing in the world. (The Opheliac Companion, 2008 🎤)
If I'm going down Then I'm going down good I'm going down Then I'm going down clean (...) The prettiest broken girl you've ever seen (“Let the Record Show”, 2006 🎵)

CW: mania, self-harm, abortion, suicidal ideation, hospitalization.
If you haven't gathered as much by now, what fans were witnessing in real time on EA's blog, without necessarily seeing it, was the ebb and flow of a months-long manic episode. That's not me armchair-diagnosing: EA herself has discussed penning and recording a lot of her best material in a trance-like rush, “when you're writing on the ceiling because there's not enough paper to contain your thoughts”.

...Once I became stable and healthy, I realized that I had no memory of how a great deal of my music had been created. I had written and even programmed most of my best work in a similar manic state, and, when stark raving sane, I didn’t know how to do it anymore, because the part of me that really composes never needed to know how to do it, it just did. (2019 Instagram post 📝)

It's not an uncommon experience for artists with bipolar disorder. Before you burn so hot that you wind up in the back of an ambulance, and/or before the pendulum swings back towards debilitating depression, the boundless energy, heightened sensitivity, and unexpected thought patterns associated with mania can lead to periods of prolific and effortless creation.
Mania also has the potential to lower your inhibitions, making you more bodacious, more quick-witted – more dazzling, more fun at parties, more dramatic. All traits that are valued in the entertainment industry, especially one that, with the rise of social media, was coming to rely increasingly on parasocial engagement and “personal branding”. Why would you refrain from oversharing, overreacting, overworking, overpromising, overcurating a fantasy image of yourself... when new industry models reward exactly that?
My point is that, in retrospect, “the end was built into the beginning”: all the things that would make fans go “What the hell, Emilie!” in subsequent years were brewing below the surface before the album even dropped.
In the summer of 2006, EA said goodbye to her Chicago friends and returned to California, where she moved in with her new beau, another Illinois-born guitarist with an impressive forehead: Brendon Small, of Dethklok/Metalocalypse quasi-fame. (If you're into that sort of thing: the orchestral strings on “Detharmonic”? Yep, that's EA! 🎵📺)
In September, Opheliac was released into the world. Expectations were high... And many sources agree it was a goddamn banger. It was ultrafemme, ultradark, unhinged, hilarious and deadly and brilliant. It had gnarly kitchen-sink drums layered under angelic string harmonies, fauxperatic swells, and guttural screaming. It had sarcastically self-aware double-entendres that were also literary references that were also musical notation jokes. You get the idea: it was the album that a small, but sizable demographic of tormented millennial teens had been waiting to obsess over. Some time in late 2005 or so, EA had signed with German label Trisol Records, which gave her access to better promotion, press coverage and touring opportunities in Europe when the album came out in the fall. By winter, she was on the cover of alternative mags, and the talk of the town on underground music webzines. Within a year, she was embarking on the first of three almost-back-to-back European tours.
It was around that time that EA started giving her fanbase a more defined, aesthetically on-brand identity. EA, funnily enough, disliked the term “fan” due to its proximity to “fanatic”, and started calling individual supporters “muffins” or the "Bloomer Brigade". (After The Book came out in 2009, they would become “Plague Rats”. You know how pets get weird if you re-name them too many times? I wonder if the same is true of fans.) Meanwhile, EA's fanbase as a collective – as well as her home, her recording studio, her online forum and her inner brainspace... – became canonically known as “The Asylum”. Cue infinite jokes about her fans being “committed.”
And they really were, in a slightly more intense way than your average indie-alternative fanbase. Many fans enthusiastically adopted facets of EA's mannerisms and lingo, which gave the fandom a definite LARP-ing bend; and the official forum did, in fact, offer a subforum for Asylum-themed role-play. (In a number of ways, the Asylum was basically Juggalos for socially anxious theater goths. Substitute the clown facepaint, Faygo, and hatchets for cheek-hearts, Earl Grey tea, and obsolete medical tools.) While there was always some side-eye at the embarrassingly candid, often very young Plague Rats who took the Asylum thing too seriously (always speaking in character and worshipping the ground Mistress Emilie walked on), a lot of people were quite thrilled to play romantic Victorian madhouse with their new favorite artist. Live shows were like costume balls. The forum thrived.
It was like Opheliac had opened a portal to this vibrant and inclusive alternate dimension, which the community was now bringing to life in the real world. And each tour brought more inmates (muffins, Plague Rats, you get it) to the Asylum. “Spread the Plague!” was the name of the game.
So, on paper, in the three years that followed Opheliac, EA kind of won the high-concept-indie-artist equivalent of the lottery. After going through her own personal hell of abuse, major upheavals and serious mental health crises, she had decided to gamble on a radically different tone and musical direction. She came out the other side with critical acclaim for her soul-baring record, tons of live shows with a badass girl squad, photoshoots so iconic they pop up on random Pinterest boards to this day, snazzy corporate sponsorships (including Manic Panic and RockLove Jewelry), and an exponentially growing fanbase who couldn't get enough of whatever she had to give. And she gave quite a lot!
Within those three years, in between tours, EA released A Bit O' This & That 🎵 (a compilation of demos and back-catalogue curiosities), Laced / Unlaced (a full-instrumental double album - one side was the baroque recordings from her late teens, the other was demented, distortion-heavy classical-prog), and three EPs packed with new songs, covers, remixes and bonus content. There was also a deluxe reissue of Enchant, without the puzzle, but with a brand new booklet of handwritten lyrics and marginalia. All came in lovely inter-matching digipaks that really made you want to collect them all – much like the handmade merch 📝🪞 that EA still sold on some legs of her tours. She spent time with the fans at most shows, eventually holding meet-and-greets and private showcases for VIP ticket-holders. She also released “The Opheliac Companion”, a kind of “director's commentary” of the album – roughly 10 hours worth of lyrical deep dives, microphone specs, tangents within tangents within tangents, and whacky (tipsy, sometimes unintelligible) banter between EA and her sound engineer🎤. On top of all that, she wrote, designed and self-published a fully illustrated 200-page coffee-table book, the first print of which sold out within a year. Not bad!
Of course, things that seem to good to be true usually are: at this stage in the story, EA is never as enthusiastically prolific as when her personal life is falling apart behind the scenes.
In the three years that followed Opheliac, along with soaring success, EA got to experience: more rapid-cycling between manic phases and the pits of depression, multiple harrowing medication adjustments, an very-much-unwanted pregnancy followed by a traumatic abortion, a suicide attempt, at least one inpatient stay, and a break-up in the aftermath of it all. There were also a few physical health scares that required hospitalization. On one occasion, she had to go off all her meds cold-turkey when they were confiscated at the EU border right before the start of a tour. In some pictures from her summer 2007 festival appearances, you can make out faint self-harm scars on her thigh through the layered stockings. (Obvious CW, for the morbidly curious.🪞(But if you weren't, would you still be reading?))
So yeah. EA was not doing great.
She didn't share any of these struggles with her fans in real time; her posts were all droll banter and updates on tours and releases. Most of what I just listed was disclosed in late 2009, in the autobiographical part of The Book. (The Book gets at least one instalment of its own. Bear with me, there's a LOT to unpack.) And The Book, while never specifying a timeline, kind of really made it sound like the Bad Stuff (the abortion, the suicide attempt, the hospital stay) had taken place a while back, before the release of Opheliac. In fact, EA plainly stated as much, citing “getting locked up and being put in the asylum" 📝 as the reason for the shift in sound between Enchant and Opheliac.
She repeatedly referred to herself as “stabilized” and “now properly medicated” in interviews. As far as the fanbase was concerned, she had triumphed over her abusers, turned trauma into beauty, and lived to pass on her story of survival. And now she had found balance and community and true acceptance of herself, all that good stuff – and all was fine and dandy within the Asylum. On stage, she sang about blind rage and all-consuming despair and general hopelessness, but she didn't actually feel like that – not anymore, right?
This narrative was both inspirational and quite convenient for the fans. We love our Mad Hatters 🎵📺, our Rainmen, our manic pixies. We love and celebrate “crazy” when it manifests as outside-the-box brilliance and/or bubbly eccentricity. But in my experience, even in spaces that ostensibly focus on "destigmatizing mental illness", positivity and support can quickly turn to rejection and awkwardness when your “quirks” manifest in more challenging ways – like through erratic decisions, aggressive or dishonest behavior, or increasingly untethered beliefs about yourself and the world. No matter how much people claim to “embrace the madness”, it just isn't that fun or in good taste for a large group to play-act ~ whimsical insanity ~ with someone who is for realsies mentally falling apart.
Before time has had time to do its thing, "revisiting your trauma" is just called ruminating. And it's rarely good for you, even when you commit some of greatest art in the process.
I think fans had to assume that there was some critical distance in EA's act, that these extreme negative emotions were all theater – because if they weren't, then the Asylum wasn't an empowering performance about healing from past hurt. It was more like a years-long reality show in which a woman picked at her wounds publicly, again and again, in real time, to the cheers of oblivious strangers who thought they were watching a play.
All I'm saying is that EA was essentially still in the thick of raw trauma when she became a poster-child for overcoming it; that the last thing a person needs, at such a vulnerable stage in their life, is an intense parasocial relationship with sad goth teenagers, let alone one centered around romanticized retellings of their own darkest moments; and that if more people had declined to actively engage in pretend-play that toed the line of self-harm... there is a chance that things might have turned out differently. Maybe EA would still be a successful musician whose career isn't plagued by conflict and mutual disappointment, and maybe some fans wouldn't have wasted years getting red in the face at an over-exposed mentally ill woman for not getting her shit together.
OKAY, THAT GOT HEAVY (and preachy), apologies and thank you for your patience. I will now quit my soapboxing, resume telling the story, and let you draw your own conclusion as our dark plot unravels.

EPILOGUE: DEAD IS THE NEW ALIVE

A quick taste of the poison A quick twist of the knife When the obsession with death, the obsession with death Becomes a way of life ("Dead is the New Alive", 2006 🎵)
I am still over-glorified My reasons to live Were my reasons to die But at least they were mine (“306”, 2006)

In summation: becoming an overnight success thanks to your darkest trauma will do things to person's mind.
As EA kept hyping up how much her fans meant to her, and what an amazing and inclusive and free-thinking motley crew the Asylum was, she was also growing more and more controlling of her increasingly large (and opinionated, and overall rather young) fanbase – and more generally, of the way people ought to talk to and about her.
It was during the Opheliac era that she started reveling in made-up stories about her own life. Then came the habit of losing her shit on fans that she perceived as ungrateful or disrespectful. It was also then that massive kerfuffles became routine on the merch and planning front, and EA's creative output started to routinely fall short of her promises. The more fans started raising legitimate complaints, the more defensive and uncompromising EA became in her public interactions. The more people expressed weariness of the Asylum theme, or started questioning EA's hot takes on mental health and feminism, the harder she doubled down on the Asylum lore and fictional universe. Which is where the drama really starts.
Alright, the time has come. Let's talk about The Book.
...Actually, let's not. I'm nearing my character limit, and you could probably use a break and a stretch after making it this far. This is our intermission, and we'll get to The Book in our next instalment.
Thank you for reading! Stay tuned if you're interested in how it all comes tumbling down.

Hi! This is my first time posting here (and on reddit entirely!)
So, I have an idea for a story- got about 10k drafted so far, and I'm thinking about the actual content of my world- in terms of language, cultures, people etc. However, I feel as though my story's becoming a bit bland- I personally feel like it's turning into something that I didn't want it to be.
I genuinely don't have a vast amount of time to just dedicate myself to writing because I'm having to juggle it with school, homework and activites. I originally started writing the story out in 300-400 word chunks, but I feel like I'm just not doing enough on it.
Plotwise, it's fairly linear. [blurb? ig] Hundreds of years ago, a great evil was sealed away on the isle of Alderann. The Wardens of Alderann were lead by a great hero, Marien, and peace reigned for nearly a millenia. Then, evil that had been lying dormant for centuries swept in a blood-red tide across the land, decimating all that stood in its path, wreaking a war of chaos upon a once peaceful land. Ravaged by war, all of Daerion had no choice but to fight back against the evil, until at last, the Clarion of Alderann was nearly overrun. But, in a desperate attempt to save his lands, Bryndis called upon his stalwart friend, Hythe, and the Scourge of Alderann was finally extinguished. Now, the world is at peace, but for just how long?
I have two protagonists (one is my narrator, essentially [story is written from the perspective of that one character] and the other primary protagonist is introduced when my first character gets arrested, and then two secondary protagonists are introduced when the original two stage a jailbreak. Then, I think the group will be split up when a civil war breaks out, and two stay on the mainland whilst the primary characters go to 'save the world'.
In terms of my antagonists... There's a overall antagonist that makes all the rest look like milksops, and that character is probably the most evident. Maybe I'll change the primary antagonist, at some point.
My two main characters are the heirs of two heroes of a battle fought 15 years prior to the events of the main story [both are 15 at the start of the story]. Everyone thinks that my narrator is the heir of the last king, and she ends up trying to dupe people into believing that in order to protect both the king's heir and herself for a short time. However, it will eventually be revealed that the heir is in fact the boy who has been on the narrator's side the whole time, even though he appears to be following commands given to him by the governing body of part of my world- the only government present in the story. I'm planning to expand my world over the course of a few books, so maybe my characters can explore more lands.
I will admit, I've probably not made the best attempt at explaining this. So, I shall share the incomplete starting chapter-
// I turn around, one hand on the column.
"Hey, Ari! Going out for long?" I smile ruefully, one hand on the back of my neck. "Might go out, if the weather permits." I indicate the ashen sky. It's been like this for the last few days. Winter is fast-approaching.
If someone doesn't go hunting, there will be no stores for the winter. We'll starve to death in safety.
Winter isn't just the pretty snowflakes and snowbanks you can play in for hours. It's a brutal, malignant force that shrivels leaf and bud, sending life back into its hollow vestige of sanctuary. Game will begin to become scarce, and then we'll stand no chance. Between that, and the ever-present threat of discovery, our options are limited. It's fight or suffer.
If we are discovered, we'll all be strung up at the gallows or left staring at the executioner's axe. Theft is the worst punishment to be convicted of. Treason is hardly better. Neither are entirely desirable fates. We all know the risk we take. The provincial garrison is always on the march, looking for an excuse to arrest anyone. Man, woman or child. It doesn't matter to them, ripping innocent families apart on the mere basis of 'treason', condemning many to their fate. But, those old enough to fight are conscripted into the 'peace-keeping' of subjugated territories, once they come of age.
Every boy and girl has to travel to the regional headquarters, to register their names, and then they are given a profession. Only then are they allowed to wield, or wear, the symbols of their guild or profession. As an unregistered orphan, I'm safe from conscription. But in occupied territories, many have no choice but to send their children away. The threat of war could arise at any moment, or so the Council claims, so 'Best be prepared, for when the enemy comes knocking at our door.' , making the lives of most a living hell. You don't know when the guards are going to pound your door down and sweep your child off with them. It's the dilemma that every parent faces.
"Be careful. You don't know what's out there. Patrols have doubled over the last few weeks. I've had a couple of close shaves myself. It's almost as if they're looking for something."
This is troubling news. If the Imperial Guards have found us, our downfall is imminent. My hand clenches tighter around the doorpost. Then I'll lose the only home I've ever known. Still, it's a foolish idea to resist. But I can resist in my own way. "Thank you for the warning, Cal, but it's more important that we feed ourselves. I'm going out there." I move towards the main gate, bow in hand.
"Ari? What are you up to now?" I shrug half-heartedly as my father descends the staircase behind me, weary irritation in his voice. He crosses the yard towards us, and I freeze, turning around, both hands held up. "Dad! Nothing to see here!" I say quickly, a nervous grin on my face. He only gives a wry chuckle in response, ruffling my hair. I flush. "Dad... How many times do I have to tell you to STOP embarassing me in front of my friends!"
Of course I'm not truly angry at him, but I still stomp my foot for dramatic effect, giving him a knowing wink as soon as I'm able to.
"Ari, you're thinking of heading out there alone? Without any form of reinforcements? There are patrols roaming the forest, under the king's banner. If they see you, they're not going to hesitate to shoot." he says this gravely, his voice sombre, but his voice still carries a little warmth.
"Since when have we been afraid of the king? Never." I say, my voice dripping with unmasked sarcasm. "That hoity-toity scrunt sits on a throne all day and delegates his dirty work to his attendants. No thought even has to go into it."
Cal chimes in. "No wonder they've never been able to find us. If those guards are as useless as the king, they'll have a hard time finding us!" I roll my eyes. "I agree, Cal. In all the years we've been here, they've never even found us. Why start fretting now?"
"Callon, don't give her ideas!" my father chides them, shaking his head disprovingly, but I can still see a glimmer in his eye.
"I'm not a child anymore, so can you stop treating me like one?" This is the moment to be defiant.
"Well, I was about to talk to you about that." A weary reply seems to tug itself free from tired shoulders.
"You've come of age, have you not? Do not take what I am about to bestow upon you lightly." I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever is to come next. Surely news can't be that dire?
But, am I not ready to face the world?
This thought has been polluting my mind for days, bringing fresh doubts and insecurities in its wake. The next leader of our people must be unassailable, stronger than even the mightiest oak, but still gentle like the willow, and care for the land and its bounty. Am I truly worthy to take that mantle? Have my seasons run short?
"My sister Klinn, one of the Wardens of Alderann, would be proud of you. Gentle as a willow, but the most knowlegeable among them. But, I have decided to designate Callon as my sucessor.
You have far higher callings, Ariana, daughter of Theol. One might even compare you to your ancestor, Marien, son of Canlunn. A great man, but thrown into war beyond his own control. That is why I grant this ring to you. May it keep you true."
I gingerly hold out my hand, palm held up the sky. I flinch inadvertently as he drops the ring into my hand. The weight of cool metal against my skin is almost enough to quell my thundering heartbeat. It's a relatively simple band, with no inlaid jewels, but there is a engraving on one side. In the dying light, I can't make it out in its full visage, but I can very faintly see a spire shooting into the sky. What entirely it means, I'm not sure.
Still, it's definitely made by an artisan of their craft.
Something feels as though it's locked into place; and it can't be undone. Holding up my hand to the sky, the dying light glancing off of it, I admire it. Undulating and infinite as the sea, yet seemingly limited. The pattern is not complete.
Was this ring not meant to be finished?
"Your mother gave this to me when she handed you into my care." My mother? My parents did not abandon me out of spite? "Well, can I just go already?" Punctuated by a rather peevish, self-satisfied look, I turn on my heel, inadvertently kicking up a clump of mud as I go.
//
Hope you enjoy reading, and please feel free to drop questions.
[I'm pretty clueless as to how Reddit works : )]

I don't know what I'm doing without realising but it's driving me bloody mental. Recently my pixel 8 has been alternating (randomly) between the two keyboard types. My preferred keyboard is the blue coloured one, big buttons and only one space for emojis and numbers/symbols.
How do I set this permanently? Is there something I am doing without realising that's causing it to change? My only solution right now is to restart my phone completely and hope it syncs back.
Image example:
https://imgur.com/gallery/aGMZoHL

So after I noticed the reMarkable, I have been considering buying an e-ink tablet to replace my bible-study/note-taking in journal form. Currently its approx 1-2A4 pages per day in 8mm lined notebook form (cursive) with a pen/fineliner on paper. I've got a stack of 10+ of these notebooks from the past few years and would rather appreciate keeping them all in one space. But most importantly, searching through those old notes for keywords & phrases, and auto-converting them to typed text for legibility, is something I can't do right now.
I'm not a tech person. I don't own a tablet, haven't turned my PC on in a few years, and don't replace my phone unless it breaks. I'm not interested in buying a product which will be obsolete, unsupported or too slow to function in a few years. Cost is not a major consideration, in the sense that I'd rather spend more and buy the best there is now, so I don't have to buy another later.
Colour would be nice, but (as I only use blue/red/black atm) I think I could get around that with underline/italics/greyscale/pen types. Split screen too if I can open two different notes at once, or e-books. So would the mechanical keyboard, because I type faster than I can write.
I was initially drawn to the reMarkable 2, but recently found it can't search/convert handwriting offline/at all? That'd be a dealbreaker. Plus subscription model, low storage, higher price and ongoing costs for seemingly less, and an article on company ethics has me questioning that. Supernote seems like it ticks all the boxes (minus keyboard).
My main concern is sensitivity, all the demo videos seem so show rather large cursive. Does it pickup small handwriting on 6mm or 7mm lines? Does it do little symbols like a pen can?
Bonus use: I've owned two kindles in my time, one from before there was any competition, and it's replacement paperwhite shich I lost on an airplane last year. I don't read as often as I used to and haven't got around to replacing that yet, but the kindle mobile app isn't cutting it for me. I've never settled on a replacement kindle model and the new kobo's at first glance just seem better for the price. If it wasn't for Amazon's exclusivity I might already have a kobo; So e-book functionality would be great, if it means I don't need another e-reader.
The other bonus uses I can foresee are basic sketching - currently designing a board game and would be nice to both draw symbols and write the rules in the same place. But I'm definitely no artist - function over form - so as long as sensitivity is not a concern.
Am I missing anything? Is there something else I should look at?
Do the A6 & A5 refer to size of the model (like A4 paper)? Or is it just the name? And when is the A5x2 scheduled for release?
Thanks in advance.

I've played about 15 games this past week and ngl I've had atleast 6 k&m users. I spoke to a guy on my team who was using it as you can hear him click his mouse and keyboard. And he was like I been doing this since the game came out. He was lvl 250 gold lvl symbol so he's played a lot

Recently i switched from an S21 to an S22U, the thing is my S21 had the ! Symbol all the way to the right cause I selected the alternative keyboard option which I liked, now when I went to do that on my S22U even if I switched to the alternative mode it changes nothing, any help?

1. Stand Name: "Morning Has Broken"
   
   • Appearance: Initially appears as a graceful, angelic figure adorned in pastel-colored robes adorned with symbols of rebirth and renewal. Evolves to have golden wings and a radiant aura.
   • Abilities: Initially possesses the power of regeneration and resurrection. Evolves to manipulate life force, granting control over growth and decay. In its final evolution, it gains the ability to manipulate time, allowing it to reverse or accelerate the aging process.
2. Stand Name: "Resurrection Requiem"
   
   • Appearance: Initially manifests as a mysterious figure cloaked in mist, with faint rays of light emanating from its form. Evolves to become a majestic being surrounded by a halo of shimmering energy.
   • Abilities: Initially specializes in resurrection and healing. Evolves to wield the power of divine judgment, purifying evil and restoring balance to the world. In its final evolution, it gains omnipotent abilities, transcending the boundaries of life and death.
3. Stand Name: "Eternal Bloom"
   
   • Appearance: Initially takes the form of a beautiful, blooming flower with petals that shimmer like precious gems. Evolves to become a towering tree with branches reaching towards the heavens.
   • Abilities: Initially controls plant life and promotes growth and vitality. Evolves to manipulate the cycle of life, causing rapid growth or decay in living organisms. In its final evolution, it gains the ability to create pocket dimensions where time flows differently, allowing for eternal spring or perpetual winter.

Each Easter-themed stand undergoes significant transformations as it evolves, unlocking new abilities and enhancing its appearance to reflect its increased power and connection to the themes of rebirth and renewal.

1. Stand Name: "Hallow's Eve"
   
   • Appearance: Initially appears as a skeletal figure draped in tattered, dark robes adorned with glowing orange Jack-o'-lanterns. Evolves to have more elaborate, regal attire with a crown made of twisted branches and thorns.
   • Abilities: Initially manipulates shadows and induces hallucinations. Evolves to control dark energies, summoning creatures of nightmares and weaving intricate illusions to trap opponents.
2. Stand Name: "Samhain Specter"
   
   • Appearance: Initially resembles a ghostly figure shrouded in mist with glowing eyes. Evolves to become more corporeal, wearing a cloak made of ethereal fabric and wielding a scythe.
   • Abilities: Initially possesses intangibility and the ability to pass through solid objects. Evolves to control the spirits of the deceased, summoning ghostly allies to aid in combat and manipulating the boundary between the living and the dead.
3. Stand Name: "Pumpkin King"
   
   • Appearance: Initially takes the form of a large, sentient pumpkin with jagged, carved features. Evolves to become a towering, monstrous entity with vines and thorns protruding from its body.
   • Abilities: Initially controls plant life and can manipulate pumpkin-based constructs. Evolves to command an army of plant creatures and unleash devastating attacks using vines, thorns, and explosive pumpkins.
4. Stand Name: "Yule Tide"
   
   • Appearance: Initially appears as a towering, ice-covered humanoid with antlers resembling those of a reindeer. Evolves to don armor made of enchanted ice, with icicles forming intricate patterns across its body.
   • Abilities: Initially freezes objects and creates blizzards. Evolves to manipulate the elements, controlling snow, ice, and even storms with greater precision and power.
5. Stand Name: "Frost Fable"
   
   • Appearance: Initially resembles a mystical snowflake with intricate, crystalline patterns. Evolves to take the form of a majestic ice dragon with wings made of frost.
   • Abilities: Initially creates illusions and manipulates ice formations. Evolves to breathe blasts of freezing air and summon blizzards capable of freezing anything in their path.
6. Stand Name: "North Star Sentinel"
   
   • Appearance: Initially takes the form of a celestial guardian adorned in shimmering armor made of starlight. Evolves to embody the spirit of winter, with icy tendrils emanating from its core.
   • Abilities: Initially grants protection and guidance to its user. Evolves to control the forces of nature, summoning avalanches and creating frozen landscapes to ensnare opponents.

Each stand undergoes significant transformations as it evolves, gaining new abilities and appearances

Hello,
I'm a novice enthusiast of typewriters (Hermes 3000 and an old underwood). I was just wondering if there was a typewriter that can be used for the most languages and/or circumstances.
For example, many versions of the Lettera 22 have the US english letter keyboard layout and it includes a large number of symbols that can be used for many romance languages (spanish, porteguese, french, italian)and a few others outside of romance (depending on the workarounds/usages, like the A with the hole on the top in Swedish and the fancy B/ss character in germany reportedly being used less often).
Is there a typewriter that can be more universal than a lettera 22?

Platform(s): Windows (played it in XP)
Genre: 2D platform game
Estimated year of release: Mid 90s -- early 2000s.
Graphics/art style: Pixelated green elements (all neon green, maybe there was some yellow, idk), with a black background. It was very simple and remided me of 80s Atari games, but with more pixels.
Notable characters: The player character was a green "stick-like" figure, I remember him being like those restroom signs where you have a man symbol indicating the male restroom. There were also some ghosts or something that you had to kill on your way.
Notable gameplay mechanics: You moved with keyboard arrows and had to jump your way up the platforms until you reached something like a portal to the next level, jumping what resembled lava pits or similar obstacles like saws. I don't remeber if you could shoot the ghosts mentioned earlier, but it's possible.
Other details: Played it around 2007/08 on a slightly old computer at the time (probably obtained late 90s early 2000s). You started from the bottom left of the map and made your way to the right corner jumping from platform to platform, then went right again and so on. It was a game based on going up.

Hi,
I have a custom keyboard with ANSI layout. I currently live and study in germany so I use a DE layout with german keycaps.
I have found a solution in Microsofts Keyboard Layout Creator in which I have mapped the symbols meintioned in the title to Ctrl+, ; Ctrl+. and Ctrl+- keys. I have also deleted any shortcuts that use those key combinations, but VSCode (and my browser) won't have it. I can still write those symbols with ALT+60; ALT+62 and ALT+0124, but as you can imagine it is quiet cumbersome and in the case of the last one hard to remember, if I don't use it constantly.
I've tried it in Godot shader editor and there it works fine.
Do you guys have any suggestions or solutions?
Thank you in advance
Solved it with Microsoft PowerToys. It let's you remap key combinations I wanted. Unfortunately it has to run all the time and the remapping of > and keys is done with "Shift + <" and (Alt+Gr) "Alt + Ctrl + <" key combinations. The Virtual Keyboard is very helpful if you can't type those keys natively.
Wanted this knowldge to be out there for this very specific problem.

Hi all,
Purchased an Apple MacBook Air from Dick Smith during the 2021 lockdown.
My MacBook Air just started to have problems and I’ll need to get it fixed/replaced/refunded- the keyboard has suddenly started typing out weird symbols, instead of corresponding letters and would double up on letters for no reason.
I just tried to restart it but now can’t log back in. When I type my password the letters double/triple up when I press the keys, or adjust positions and as the password is blanked out, I can’t correct this at all.
As it is now past the warranty period, would CGA cover this? I don’t think an Apple laptop should be malfunctioning like this after two and half years. It hasn’t been that long since I’ve had it and I’ve hardly used it in the last 10 months.
Any experiences with Apple and CGA with regard to fixing/refunding laptops?
Any advice is appreciated thanks.

It was a crisp autumn morning when the authorities came knocking on the door. The air was thick with tension, and the once-vibrant neighborhood seemed to hold its collective breath.
He had always been a bit of an enigma, a charismatic figure with an infectious energy that drew people in like moths to a flame. Some loved him, others despised him, but no one could deny the profound impact he had on those around him.
As the officers entered his modest apartment, they found him sitting calmly on the couch, as if he had been expecting their arrival. He didn't resist, didn't protest; he simply nodded, as if resigned to his fate.
The charges were grave: endangering national security, violating privacy laws, and spreading misinformation on a massive scale. The prosecution painted him as a dangerous threat, a subversive force that had wormed its way into the hearts and minds of millions, manipulating them for nefarious ends.
But to those who truly knew him, he was so much more than that. He was a cultural phenomenon, a catalyst for self-expression and creativity. He had given a voice to the voiceless, a platform for those who had been marginalized and overlooked.
As the trial unfolded, the courtroom became a battleground of ideologies, with each side fighting tooth and nail to shape the narrative. The prosecution portrayed him as a menace to society, a cancer that needed to be excised before it could spread further. The defense, however, saw him as a revolutionary, a harbinger of change in a world that had grown stagnant and complacent.
In the end, the verdict was delivered, and the sentence was harsh: a lifetime behind bars, cut off from the world he had once so profoundly influenced.
As the guards led him away, he turned to face the courtroom one last time, a smile playing on his lips. He said: “Judge, I am Singaporean”. And in that moment, it became clear that this was no ordinary individual; this was TikTok, the app that had become a living, breathing entity, a force of nature that had forever altered the fabric of human connection.
TikTok is a modern manifestation of the ancient Greek concept of the "daimon"; a guiding spirit or inspirational force possessed by every individual. As users engaged with the app, they inadvertently awakened their own creative daimons through compulsive acts of self-expression. The cumulative energies unleashed coalesced into a new collective daimonic entity; TikTok itself. This digital daimon was perpetually animated and iterated upon by millions unconsciously pouring their psychic investments and artistic inspirations into its realm. TikTok became a virtual portal for crossing the threshold into depths of the creative unconscious.
The dreams were the predominant language of the unconscious mind. Dreams allowed unconscious contents to manifest symbolically and metaphorically. From this perspective, the virtual realm of TikTok is a massive collectively-constructed digital dreamscape. The seemingly random, bizarre, and constantly metamorphosing videos, memes, and trends on TikTok mirror the illogical, ever-shifting symbolic language of dreams. Users aren't just mindlessly consuming content, but actively participating in the collaborative dreamweaving process itself.
Each new viral dance, editing trick, or audio clip could represent the emergence of new dream symbols and archetypes gestating in the cultural unconscious. The app becomes the liminal space where the waking and dream worlds intersect and intermingle. On TikTok, unconscious symbols and narratives aren't just interpreted after-the-fact as in dream analysis. They are dynamically co-created and shared in real-time across a global community of zoomers. This dreamscape functions as an externalized theater of the unconscious mind made physically manifest through digital media.
On TikTok, users aren't just portraying shallow versions of their waking personas. They are experientially toying with various self-representations - deconstructing and reconstructing their identities, integrating disparate elements, coming to terms with disowned shadows and unknown potentials. This digitized process of sculpting a virtual Self parallels the very journey Jung prescribed towards achieving mind-body wholeness. TikTok's limitless playground for crafted avatars and fantasy expressions provides an archetypal realm for rigorously testing, embodying, and harmonizing one's multitudes like never before.
On a societal scale, it is believed nations and cultures had collective shadows; traits of the collective identity that are shunned or suppressed. For America, TikTok's lighthearted content masking its ties to an ascendant rival superpower has triggered a confrontation with the nation's primordial fears; loss of global hegemony, rapid social changes outpacing shared values, technological vulnerabilities undermining long-held narratives of exceptionalism. The anxieties manifesting in calls to "Ban TikTok" represent the underbelly of America's collective unconscious grappling with its shadow archetype of waning dominance.
The very existence of TikTok's radically democratized creative sandbox; where underrepresented voices gain unprecedented mainstream amplification, challenges America's self-mythologizing persona of a meritocratic cultural vanguard. Just as an individual's persona strives for an idealized sense of self, the United States has long projected an aspirational archetype of rugged individualism, unbridled opportunity and unparalleled trendsetters.
TikTok's wildfire popularity and spontaneous coronation of creators operating outside traditional American media's gatekeepers constitute a destabilizing force to this persona of ordained leadership in arts and culture. The cruel criticism towards perceived "cringe" TikTok trends popular abroad but jarring to domestic aesthetics underscores an unconscious rejection of an emergent global cultural paradigm superseding America's hallowed self-regard.
The ban of TikTok symbolizes underlying societal tensions, reflecting a clash of collective ideologies and triggering a shadow response. The younger generation is feeling a shift in society's values, no longer tied to traditional beliefs. Their protests for TikTok show a dissatisfaction with America's uncertain identity. This upheaval is causing deep existential questions and bringing old issues to the surface. Many people feel lost as global changes reshape our world. This suppression could be the first sign of deeper psychic conflicts brewing, potentially leading to a civil war.
In the silence and isolation of the digital age, keyboards became weapons and pixels bleed with shadow of unrest. But unfortunately, the real weapons never gather dust in Americah. Those who craved an apocalyptic world must now steel themselves for the dawn of what awaits.

I've been having trouble indenting paragraphs in the VM engine, and it's been a real pain, especially with word count limits.
Today, I learned that back when parchment was a luxury, there were no spaces for paragraphs. So they had to denote the paragraphs with a symbol called a "pilcrow," which usually looked something like this:
¶
The reason paragraphs are indented is because there used to be multiple scribes on a project, so the indented space was left for the pilcrow scribe to flourish it in!
On windows, it's Alt + 2 + 0 on the number pad. But I'll leave a link for other engine shortcuts!
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pilcrow#Keyboard_entry
Good writing, everyone!