Covetous antisocial -
Envy Manifestations and Personality Disorders
2024.05.08 17:19 theconstellinguist Envy Manifestations and Personality Disorders
Crossposting audience: The bad news is there does not seem to be a cure for envy. This is congruent with the recidivism statistics of maladapted/antisocial behavior in narcissists, without which narcissism and those with NPD would not be so socially undesirable. However, there are clear signs that the circuitry of envy is noticeably different than the circuitry of admiration, and that jealousy pathways are similar to addiction and expectation of reward pathways. A neuroeconomic analysis of "I won't win this one without illegal/unethical leveling" may be occurring in the envious, showing there may be insight that could resolve what has been until this point and unresolvable emotion full of frustration and pain at the perceived inferiority these individuals suffer. It is important to study and resolve this to help protect their victims from violence, psychological, and economic abuse, theft, hostage-taking of what is critical to the envied person, and unreasonable dislike that turns into hate crime on a whim. Victims deserve protection (the envious say the opposite) and so we research. Follow this subreddit for the first research-backed subreddit on envy.
https://d1wqtxts1xzle7.cloudfront.net/41333365/Envy_manifestations_and_PD-libre.pdf?1453236236=&response-content-disposition=inline%3B+filename%3DEnvy_manifestations_and_personality_diso.pdf&Expires=1715180407&Signature=Cxz~dJ7gQ8JHTigZ1o7PcamtIeitcouEC-5iUlzNEfEeaB9WxChhk9AAlF0Aow~apXtfB-slMzFJ8EvdungPT6UONjuXHtzUsXBOi9IbYAmO4aIEDGxCHReFCwC2SmkeaxwByeVLHBH~BKRmf63KSNuoWhneA2Y~pdaVSkx6t-DN25uQSAYr8jcHo2fuajbQhUrmq-Ej5FhYZIEDngfJoPt32rM2XQqq6XhD0yCTlLl~xGH6tZ~pfgkZGiJ~7eP8nXbXLidA23kWrMT7t9lBqcB9xkEgdDXVLrjITgRyhern7qdJnHO8vVqsVAZ9kZ3bCjmZirm56TV7O9vNzQzr9w__&Key-Pair-Id=APKAJLOHF5GGSLRBV4ZA
Envy leads to feelings of ugliness or appraisals of ugliness in others, even just “social ugliness” (envy is an unappealing emotion). These are likely to be projected on the one who outs them if outed, as those with envy tend to have addictive patterns that predict projection which is low-pleasure high-pain. Low-pleasure high-pain tends to lead to “pass the buck” behavior in those with low distress tolerance such as those with addictions who can’t withstand the pain of coming down to sobriety.
“Most scholars recognize that would deny they envy someone else since envy is considered socially undesirable; verbal reports are expected to be biased.”
Envy when untreated is more likely to be externalized. Although not directly linked to any given personality disorder, this does match with how narcissists can be separated from non-narcissists by the fact they are most likely to externalize their aggression when in emotional pain.
“On the other hand, envy has been linked to various forms of maladjustment such as interpersonal conflict, low self-esteem, depression, anxiety and aggressiveness towards the envied person or their possessions, and even criminal behaviors such as arson, vandalism, assault, and even murder.”
Why some people really struggle with envy and others don’t is strangely unstudied, despite the fact it is behind much of violence, gaslighting and interpersonal cruelty that leads to repeat market failures (war tends to be a market failure for the most people, and for those it benefits, it benefits unstably as they are now at huge risk for reparations etc.).
“Yet there have been very few systematic attempts to examine the individual differences in envy, especially with respect to personality traits that may explain why one person is more envious than another.”
Klein’s theory of envy clearly shows people trying to spoil (gaslight, ruin, make something not really wanted anymore) or take it away in some form.
“Klein’s theory [13] of envy has had a major influence. She defines envy as ‘ the angry feeling that another person possesses and enjoys something desirable - the envious desire to take it away or spoil it.”
Hubback has a different definition, demonstrating benign envy exists, which doesn’t necessarily have a desire to spoil. He cites that the difference between benign and malicious envy is the presence and feeling of hate, which turns benign envy into malicious envy. Only malicious envy shows the impulse to ruin and act of ruining.
‘“Hubback [10] criticizes Klein’s position, stressing the fact envy does not always involve desire to spoil. For him, envy includes three features, ‘the first being desire to get what another person has and enjoys [wanting], the second being that the desire is colored with hate and the third in its later is toned with the impulse to spoil.”
Spielman cites four different parts of envy; (1) emulation–desire to imitate and even surpass a person without much malevolence, (2) narcissistic wound (feelings of inferiority, inadequacy, smallness, or injured self-esteem; in its mild form, disappointment, in its severe form mortification or humiliation), (3) longing for the desired possession (covetousness), and 4) feeling of anger at the possessor (in its mild form, chagrin or discontent, moderate, resentment or ill-will, and the most severe instantiations are spite, maliciousness, malevolence and most notably expressing hate and feelings of hatred, which leads to preparations to harm the person and to try to take what they are jealous of from them…trying to destroy or spoil the envied object).
Envy only happens when someone feels inferior.
“Social comparison theory defines envy as feelings, thoughts, and behaviors that arise when our personal qualities, possessions or achievements do not measure up to someone significant to us.”
There are three proposed preconditions for envy from Salovey and Rodin.
“Salovey and Rodin [22] have proposed three eliciting conditions of envy: 1) negative or esteem diminishing information about one’s self relative to another person 2) high self-relevance of that information and 3) high similarity to or [perceived] close relationship to that person.” (Not always actual close relationship; many envious people show serious signs of delusions, such as those that compare themselves to celebrities or celebrities that aren’t in contact with other celebrities but still comparing themselves to them before contact).”
When people perceive they are losing power to someone else, that is mostly when envy starts to get aggressive.
“Rather, envy will more likely result when an individual’s current self-evaluation (positive or negative) is threatened by a social comparison to someone more successful, or when they perceive an erosion of their social position [20]. The behaviors associated with envy (e.g. backbiting or belittling the rival) may be an attempt to prevent self-diminution.”
The collective consensus is that belittling what is clearly seen in another is a clear sign of envy, yet, people seem to struggle to identify this out in the field or “in the wild” so to speak, unable to sift obviously envious feedback from obviously non-envious feedback, envious feedback cloaked in a seething false genuinity from feedback that is genuinely sincere.
“Silver and Sabini [29] tested the hypothesis by showing videotapes in which actors were describing their success or failure in trying to gain admission into medical school. In the standard scenario in which one actor was admitted while another was not, and the unsuccessful belittled the character of the successful person, or disparaged his success, 92% of subjects spontaneously perceived envy.”
Comparison starts when someone’s position feels threatened. If comparison is suggested, that means the person initiating the comparison is likely to be doing slightly worse and starting to grab at straws to restabilize the position.
“Dakins and Arrwood [4] have found that competitive comparisons (perhaps resulting in envy) are more likely to occur when similar others perform slightly better than oneself.”
If negative feedback from the one someone is envious seems to be really sticking with someone or have high effect, it is because of self-relevance; this person is, whether or not they admit it, someone they know to be similar to them. Part of envy may be trying to keep distance while from that distance doing things clearly in relation to that self-relevance.
“Individuals also seem more sensitive to feedback obtained from others similar to them. It is these persons’ accomplishments that are more likely to demean us.”
The keeping the distance is meant to avoid the detection that the envious person is envious which the following around for purposes of comparing themselves clearly reveals.
“As Silver and Sabini [30] have pointed out, “Since the an attribution of envy presupposes the person has been diminished or at least that he perceives this to be the case (much of envy’s aggression is relieving perceived diminishment) to be seen as envious is doubly damaging. Not only have we committed a ‘sin’ but we have tacitly acknowledged our own inferiority. Considering this, people find it very difficult to admit that they envy someone else…subjects indicated they would be much more likely to feel embarrassed if others knew they were envious.”
Removal or destruction of the envied object or quality is malicious envy.
“Envy is seen as nastier than most ‘sins’.” It is safe to say when something just inordinately horrifying happens to someone, it is motivated by envy.
Envious people, when it becomes clear they cannot possess the desired object or quality, try to destroy it.
“It is the reason why in rage and suffering, the envious person prefers to destroy what he is not able to possess.”
People often do not admit their envy, but the researchers wrote out other ways to see it is present regardless.
“A person is seen as envious when his action is seen as an inappropriate attempt to boost self-esteem or demean another to protect his self-worth.”
The research cites increasing maliciousness in denied envy that helps researchers detect envy even when they don’t admit it
1) trying to convince people that the envied person’s accomplishment isn’t actually to do with the envied trait, but rather was just luck, fraud, or something else 2) distorting perceptions of ourselves to better match the other, 3) trying to find a different feature of the person to attack when they can’t attack the envied trait after 1 fails, 4) trying to make the person’s success seem like a bad thing 5) disparaging envied persons or trying to reduce future closeness with them, trying to remain far away while clearly obsessing 6) trying to sabotage their future accomplishments and successes before they can accumulate and further hurt the envier 7) being violent or aggressive towards the envied person and their possessions.
Many personality disorders show signs of envy, and the envy that is a symptom of these personality disorders is ego-syntonic (they feel what they’re doing is fine, and not bad, and will even say as much, and try to convince others of as much, even though clearly because the person has a maladapted personality disorder others do not agree whatsoever for good reason).
“Let us bear in mind that one characteristic observed in those disorders is to harm other people; those behaviors are often ego-syntonic.”
Many cases of envy come from within a family, disturbingly enough.
“In 50% of cases, envious people are members of the family (brother, sister, uncle or stepmother) and in the other 50%, the envious one is a neighbor.”
Envious people hide their hate but behind the scenes try to destroy the happiness of the envied person. Their happiness especially enrages the envious person in malicious envy; that is a tell-tale sign, hyperfocusing on their happiness and trying to ruin that in particular.
“As the envious person cannot have the same status or the same possessions, and has to hide his hate when he sees the success he would like to have for himself or his own children, he uses his wickedness to destroy the happiness of the envied person.”
Envious people prefer indirect attacks due to the fact being identified as that envious can really destroy the respect people have for them, outing them as inferior enough to be desperate enough to do that. In third world countries, this is often solicited by a “black magic” witch. So, images of a black magic witch and begging a witch when they have failed to get what they want are a tell-tale sign.
“Very often, envious people prefer indirect attacks against their rivals by seeking out a sorcerer or witch.”
The envious person will be among the first to offer aid and comfort after doing their damage, likely due to the schadenfreude that relieves their inferiority by seeing the damage done. They will do this again and again until they are removed from the victim. At the time of writing this, there is no cure for envy. They just have to be removed from access to the person.
“At the same time, the envious person, in a hypocritical way, will be among the first to offer aid and comfort.”
Envy is considered the root of black magic when it is called sorcery. Most African and Middle Eastern traditions consider all witches black magic and struggle with more Northern beliefs that all magic is not bad; however, more Northern traditions include white and green magics, which are healing magics. Red magics are also part of the array.
The Azande consider a gentleman one who does not envy others. Ironically, this is the opposite of most incels, who worship ‘the Supreme Gentleman’ but covet women left and right.
“For the Azande people, a gentleman is one who does not envy another.”
For the Navajo’s hospitality is a cure against witchcraft. Navajos also seem to tend to struggle with alternative positive understandings of magic, some of which is white and green.
“Likewise Kluckhohn [14] suggest that Navajo’s hospitality is a kind of protection against guest’s witchcraft.”
Similar to issues with self-report in narcissists, self-report in the envious tend to be falsified.
Envy is not just for women. Men also showed the same signs of envy as women did under conditions that measured things like someone being more intelligent, more attractive, or more of some desirable trait than them.
“The overall sex effect was not significant, which means that when all the items are considered, intensity of envy does not vary between sex.”
However, what men and women were jealous of did seem more gendered; it was not often for a man to be jealous of better looks and self-confidence though it did happen (when they were jealous they found it really hard to control an impulse to harm or impulse to insert aggressive input) nor a woman to be jealous of athletic talent or for a woman to be jealous of another’s partner which was a male, or at least extremely high testosterone, behavior, reflecting commodity thinking which is often predicted by testosterone in a pathological instantiation.
Popularity included things the average person tends to get jealous about
“The first factor, labeled ‘popularity’ grouped items with social and sexual attractiveness, beauty, renown and leadership.”
Personal well-being was another one people got jealous of
“Personal well-being describes assurance, self-confidence and good relations with friends and parents.”
Financial well-being was third
“Financial well-being consists of items like a well-paid job, prizes won, desired possessions, and quality of life such as travel, leisure, etc.”
The last factor was intelligence and talents
“The last factor is ‘intelligence and talents’ with items related to abilities and achievements.”
There is no sex difference in envy; men and women get about equally envious and act in the same ways when envious. What differs is what they are jealous about.
“However, women tend to envy more some objects than men (e.g. beauty) and conversely, men envy other objects (e.g. a prestigious job).”
Envy usually is enacted indirectly.
“In general, participants express more envy in the indirect version than in the direct one…the results suggest that the indirect version is favored [as a way to enact envy].”
“
“
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https://d1wqtxts1xzle7.cloudfront.net/41333365/Envy_manifestations_and_PD-libre.pdf?1453236236=&response-content-disposition=inline%3B+filename%3DEnvy_manifestations_and_personality_diso.pdf&Expires=1715180407&Signature=Cxz~dJ7gQ8JHTigZ1o7PcamtIeitcouEC-5iUlzNEfEeaB9WxChhk9AAlF0Aow~apXtfB-slMzFJ8EvdungPT6UONjuXHtzUsXBOi9IbYAmO4aIEDGxCHReFCwC2SmkeaxwByeVLHBH~BKRmf63KSNuoWhneA2Y~pdaVSkx6t-DN25uQSAYr8jcHo2fuajbQhUrmq-Ej5FhYZIEDngfJoPt32rM2XQqq6XhD0yCTlLl~xGH6tZ~pfgkZGiJ~7eP8nXbXLidA23kWrMT7t9lBqcB9xkEgdDXVLrjITgRyhern7qdJnHO8vVqsVAZ9kZ3bCjmZirm56TV7O9vNzQzr9w__&Key-Pair-Id=APKAJLOHF5GGSLRBV4ZA
Envy leads to feelings of ugliness or appraisals of ugliness in others, even just “social ugliness” (envy is an unappealing emotion). These are likely to be projected on the one who outs them if outed, as those with envy tend to have addictive patterns that predict projection which is low-pleasure high-pain. Low-pleasure high-pain tends to lead to “pass the buck” behavior in those with low distress tolerance such as those with addictions who can’t withstand the pain of coming down to sobriety.
“Most scholars recognize that would deny they envy someone else since envy is considered socially undesirable; verbal reports are expected to be biased.”
Envy when untreated is more likely to be externalized. Although not directly linked to any given personality disorder, this does match with how narcissists can be separated from non-narcissists by the fact they are most likely to externalize their aggression when in emotional pain.
“On the other hand, envy has been linked to various forms of maladjustment such as interpersonal conflict, low self-esteem, depression, anxiety and aggressiveness towards the envied person or their possessions, and even criminal behaviors such as arson, vandalism, assault, and even murder.”
Why some people really struggle with envy and others don’t is strangely unstudied, despite the fact it is behind much of violence, gaslighting and interpersonal cruelty that leads to repeat market failures (war tends to be a market failure for the most people, and for those it benefits, it benefits unstably as they are now at huge risk for reparations etc.).
“Yet there have been very few systematic attempts to examine the individual differences in envy, especially with respect to personality traits that may explain why one person is more envious than another.”
Klein’s theory of envy clearly shows people trying to spoil (gaslight, ruin, make something not really wanted anymore) or take it away in some form.
“Klein’s theory [13] of envy has had a major influence. She defines envy as ‘ the angry feeling that another person possesses and enjoys something desirable - the envious desire to take it away or spoil it.”
Hubback has a different definition, demonstrating benign envy exists, which doesn’t necessarily have a desire to spoil. He cites that the difference between benign and malicious envy is the presence and feeling of hate, which turns benign envy into malicious envy. Only malicious envy shows the impulse to ruin and act of ruining.
‘“Hubback [10] criticizes Klein’s position, stressing the fact envy does not always involve desire to spoil. For him, envy includes three features, ‘the first being desire to get what another person has and enjoys [wanting], the second being that the desire is colored with hate and the third in its later is toned with the impulse to spoil.”
Spielman cites four different parts of envy; (1) emulation–desire to imitate and even surpass a person without much malevolence, (2) narcissistic wound (feelings of inferiority, inadequacy, smallness, or injured self-esteem; in its mild form, disappointment, in its severe form mortification or humiliation), (3) longing for the desired possession (covetousness), and 4) feeling of anger at the possessor (in its mild form, chagrin or discontent, moderate, resentment or ill-will, and the most severe instantiations are spite, maliciousness, malevolence and most notably expressing hate and feelings of hatred, which leads to preparations to harm the person and to try to take what they are jealous of from them…trying to destroy or spoil the envied object).
Envy only happens when someone feels inferior.
“Social comparison theory defines envy as feelings, thoughts, and behaviors that arise when our personal qualities, possessions or achievements do not measure up to someone significant to us.”
There are three proposed preconditions for envy from Salovey and Rodin.
“Salovey and Rodin [22] have proposed three eliciting conditions of envy: 1) negative or esteem diminishing information about one’s self relative to another person 2) high self-relevance of that information and 3) high similarity to or [perceived] close relationship to that person.” (Not always actual close relationship; many envious people show serious signs of delusions, such as those that compare themselves to celebrities or celebrities that aren’t in contact with other celebrities but still comparing themselves to them before contact).”
When people perceive they are losing power to someone else, that is mostly when envy starts to get aggressive.
“Rather, envy will more likely result when an individual’s current self-evaluation (positive or negative) is threatened by a social comparison to someone more successful, or when they perceive an erosion of their social position [20]. The behaviors associated with envy (e.g. backbiting or belittling the rival) may be an attempt to prevent self-diminution.”
The collective consensus is that belittling what is clearly seen in another is a clear sign of envy, yet, people seem to struggle to identify this out in the field or “in the wild” so to speak, unable to sift obviously envious feedback from obviously non-envious feedback, envious feedback cloaked in a seething false genuinity from feedback that is genuinely sincere.
“Silver and Sabini [29] tested the hypothesis by showing videotapes in which actors were describing their success or failure in trying to gain admission into medical school. In the standard scenario in which one actor was admitted while another was not, and the unsuccessful belittled the character of the successful person, or disparaged his success, 92% of subjects spontaneously perceived envy.”
Comparison starts when someone’s position feels threatened. If comparison is suggested, that means the person initiating the comparison is likely to be doing slightly worse and starting to grab at straws to restabilize the position.
“Dakins and Arrwood [4] have found that competitive comparisons (perhaps resulting in envy) are more likely to occur when similar others perform slightly better than oneself.”
If negative feedback from the one someone is envious seems to be really sticking with someone or have high effect, it is because of self-relevance; this person is, whether or not they admit it, someone they know to be similar to them. Part of envy may be trying to keep distance while from that distance doing things clearly in relation to that self-relevance.
“Individuals also seem more sensitive to feedback obtained from others similar to them. It is these persons’ accomplishments that are more likely to demean us.”
The keeping the distance is meant to avoid the detection that the envious person is envious which the following around for purposes of comparing themselves clearly reveals.
“As Silver and Sabini [30] have pointed out, “Since the an attribution of envy presupposes the person has been diminished or at least that he perceives this to be the case (much of envy’s aggression is relieving perceived diminishment) to be seen as envious is doubly damaging. Not only have we committed a ‘sin’ but we have tacitly acknowledged our own inferiority. Considering this, people find it very difficult to admit that they envy someone else…subjects indicated they would be much more likely to feel embarrassed if others knew they were envious.”
Removal or destruction of the envied object or quality is malicious envy.
“Envy is seen as nastier than most ‘sins’.” It is safe to say when something just inordinately horrifying happens to someone, it is motivated by envy.
Envious people, when it becomes clear they cannot possess the desired object or quality, try to destroy it.
“It is the reason why in rage and suffering, the envious person prefers to destroy what he is not able to possess.”
People often do not admit their envy, but the researchers wrote out other ways to see it is present regardless.
“A person is seen as envious when his action is seen as an inappropriate attempt to boost self-esteem or demean another to protect his self-worth.”
The research cites increasing maliciousness in denied envy that helps researchers detect envy even when they don’t admit it
1) trying to convince people that the envied person’s accomplishment isn’t actually to do with the envied trait, but rather was just luck, fraud, or something else 2) distorting perceptions of ourselves to better match the other, 3) trying to find a different feature of the person to attack when they can’t attack the envied trait after 1 fails, 4) trying to make the person’s success seem like a bad thing 5) disparaging envied persons or trying to reduce future closeness with them, trying to remain far away while clearly obsessing 6) trying to sabotage their future accomplishments and successes before they can accumulate and further hurt the envier 7) being violent or aggressive towards the envied person and their possessions.
Many personality disorders show signs of envy, and the envy that is a symptom of these personality disorders is ego-syntonic (they feel what they’re doing is fine, and not bad, and will even say as much, and try to convince others of as much, even though clearly because the person has a maladapted personality disorder others do not agree whatsoever for good reason).
“Let us bear in mind that one characteristic observed in those disorders is to harm other people; those behaviors are often ego-syntonic.”
Many cases of envy come from within a family, disturbingly enough.
“In 50% of cases, envious people are members of the family (brother, sister, uncle or stepmother) and in the other 50%, the envious one is a neighbor.”
Envious people hide their hate but behind the scenes try to destroy the happiness of the envied person. Their happiness especially enrages the envious person in malicious envy; that is a tell-tale sign, hyperfocusing on their happiness and trying to ruin that in particular.
“As the envious person cannot have the same status or the same possessions, and has to hide his hate when he sees the success he would like to have for himself or his own children, he uses his wickedness to destroy the happiness of the envied person.”
Envious people prefer indirect attacks due to the fact being identified as that envious can really destroy the respect people have for them, outing them as inferior enough to be desperate enough to do that. In third world countries, this is often solicited by a “black magic” witch. So, images of a black magic witch and begging a witch when they have failed to get what they want are a tell-tale sign.
“Very often, envious people prefer indirect attacks against their rivals by seeking out a sorcerer or witch.”
The envious person will be among the first to offer aid and comfort after doing their damage, likely due to the schadenfreude that relieves their inferiority by seeing the damage done. They will do this again and again until they are removed from the victim. At the time of writing this, there is no cure for envy. They just have to be removed from access to the person.
“At the same time, the envious person, in a hypocritical way, will be among the first to offer aid and comfort.”
Envy is considered the root of black magic when it is called sorcery. Most African and Middle Eastern traditions consider all witches black magic and struggle with more Northern beliefs that all magic is not bad; however, more Northern traditions include white and green magics, which are healing magics. Red magics are also part of the array.
The Azande consider a gentleman one who does not envy others. Ironically, this is the opposite of most incels, who worship ‘the Supreme Gentleman’ but covet women left and right.
“For the Azande people, a gentleman is one who does not envy another.”
For the Navajo’s hospitality is a cure against witchcraft. Navajos also seem to tend to struggle with alternative positive understandings of magic, some of which is white and green.
“Likewise Kluckhohn [14] suggest that Navajo’s hospitality is a kind of protection against guest’s witchcraft.”
Similar to issues with self-report in narcissists, self-report in the envious tend to be falsified.
Envy is not just for women. Men also showed the same signs of envy as women did under conditions that measured things like someone being more intelligent, more attractive, or more of some desirable trait than them.
“The overall sex effect was not significant, which means that when all the items are considered, intensity of envy does not vary between sex.”
However, what men and women were jealous of did seem more gendered; it was not often for a man to be jealous of better looks and self-confidence though it did happen (when they were jealous they found it really hard to control an impulse to harm or impulse to insert aggressive input) nor a woman to be jealous of athletic talent or for a woman to be jealous of another’s partner which was a male, or at least extremely high testosterone, behavior, reflecting commodity thinking which is often predicted by testosterone in a pathological instantiation.
Popularity included things the average person tends to get jealous about
“The first factor, labeled ‘popularity’ grouped items with social and sexual attractiveness, beauty, renown and leadership.”
Personal well-being was another one people got jealous of
“Personal well-being describes assurance, self-confidence and good relations with friends and parents.”
Financial well-being was third
“Financial well-being consists of items like a well-paid job, prizes won, desired possessions, and quality of life such as travel, leisure, etc.”
The last factor was intelligence and talents
“The last factor is ‘intelligence and talents’ with items related to abilities and achievements.”
There is no sex difference in envy; men and women get about equally envious and act in the same ways when envious. What differs is what they are jealous about.
“However, women tend to envy more some objects than men (e.g. beauty) and conversely, men envy other objects (e.g. a prestigious job).”
Envy usually is enacted indirectly.
“In general, participants express more envy in the indirect version than in the direct one…the results suggest that the indirect version is favored [as a way to enact envy].”
“
“
2024.02.15 21:23 somewell [S] That Pokémon Survivor: Buried Relic
Hello guys
Welcome to "That Pokémon Survivor: Buried Relic"! 🌟 In this season, set in the ancient depths of Buried Relic, castaways face a unique twist: Inside the Buried Relic there’s an urn that allow the players to Mutiny. As they navigate treacherous terrain and strategic challenges, they must decide whether to stay loyal to their tribe or forge new alliances. Join us for an unforgettable journey of twists, turns, and the ultimate test of survival! ⚔️🏝️
Season summary
Episode 1 - "Trek Through Tribulations"
The cast learns they must trek for four hours through rough terrain to reach their respective tribe's campsite. Adding to the stress, one member from each tribe is immediately subjected to a vote. At Utu tribe, first impressions guide the decision-making process, leaving Drake as the chosen one to stay behind. Meanwhile, at Nanna tribe, The Prophet is designated as the supposed liability. Both Drake and The Prophet initially fear they're being cast out. To their relief, they discover they'll be airlifted directly to their campsite while their tribemates trek on foot. Arriving at their campsites, the castaways must choose: search for an immunity idol or start building shelter. Drake and Marot both opt for the idol, successfully finding it. This raises suspicions among their tribemates when they arrive at the camps. Zapper, working on shelters, stumbles upon a hidden immunity idol.
Nanna celebrates their first immunity win. Back at Utu camp, Drake, moved by Zapper's story, expresses interest in allying. Bubbles sees this as an opportunity to improve his image and proposes an alliance with Zapper. Erika targets Lucia for poor performance, while Lucia attempts to shift blame onto Marot. Drake sought to redirect the target onto Woo-Chang. In a private conversation, Bubbles and Zapper agree to vote out Lucia. Over at Nanna camp, Mesut's refusal to contribute causes tension with Paulo and The Prophet. After that Paulo bonds with Cherri, discovering her softer side. Unbeknownst to others, Mesut has formed a strong alliance with Bubble, Jason, and Ruby.
At Utu's tribal council, tensions run high as votes are cast. Lucia is voted out in a 6-2 decision against Woo-Chang, leaving her feeling betrayed and unsure whom to trust.
Lucia's final words: "Maybe I should've focused less on my family's legacy and more on forging my own path in the game. Lesson learned, I guess."
Episode 2 "Struggle for Supremacy"
At the immunity challenge, three castaways from each tribe face off in a river, retrieving a ball to score points for their tribe. Nanna secures their second immunity win! They select Zapper from the losing tribe to go to Exile Island, who then chooses The Prophet from Nanna to join him. On Exile Island, Zapper and The Prophet find two urns: one with an idol clue and the option to mutiny, the other empty. Zapper chooses the bottle with the clue and shares it with The Prophet. They decide against mutiny.
Back at Utu camp, Woo-Chang sees potential in aligning with Erika and proposes voting together, which she accepts. Meanwhile, Zapper and Bubbles silently dissolve their alliance, realizing the need for more options. Maho also approaches Erika, who agrees to align, and they decide to target Marot due to his targeting of Bubbles.
In Nanna tribe, Jason and Mesut clash over food duties, with Dan and Danielle defending Mesut's berry gathering efforts. Bubble and Cherri discuss forming a big alliance, including Dan, Danielle, Mesut, Paulo, and Ruby, leaving Jason and The Prophet on the outside.
At Utu's tribal council, Marot is voted out 5-2 against Bubble, with Drake again in the minority.
Marot's final words: "This was supposed to be my chance to break out of my shell, but instead, I feel like I've been shocked back into it."
Episode 3 - Stacking the Odds"
The episode opens with Ruby excitedly revealing she found the hidden immunity idol concealed behind a trunk while searching for water. Later, Nanna triumphs in a reward challenge, earning a bounty of comforts. They select Erika from Utu to join Ruby on Exile Island. On Exile Island, Erika opts for the urn containing the idol clue and options but decides against mutiny. Meanwhile, at the immunity challenge, castaways race to retrieve crates in their tribe's colors, stacking them into a staircase. Utu secures their first immunity win!
Back at Utu camp, Erika confesses she only aligned with Maho out of necessity, expressing doubts about their compatibility. Cherri and Bubble clash over the vote, prompting Cherri to seek an alternative alliance with Dan, Danielle, Jason, and The Prophet. However, she fails to sway them to target Paulo, as The Prophet insists it's Paulo's destiny to go home. Frustrated, Cherri opts to follow her six-person majority alliance but secretly plots against The Prophet. Fearing an idol, the alliance decides to split their votes between Jason and The Prophet.
However, at tribal council, The Prophet shocks everyone by revealing his idol and instructing the tribe to vote for Paulo. Confusion ensues, leading to a chaotic vote. Ultimately, Paulo is voted out in a surprising 5-3 decision against Jason, confirming The Prophet's prophecy.
Paulo's final words: "Survivor was like a dance of trust and deceit, and I found myself tripping over false promises. I thought I had loyal allies, but they were just waiting for the right moment to stab me in the back."
Episode 4 - "Berry Celebrations"
At Utu camp, bonds are forming among the tribe members, except for Maho, whose antisocial nature prevents her from connecting with Zapper. In contrast, the Nanna tribe faces dysfunction with numerous alliances and relationships. Nanna triumphs in a grueling resistance challenge, with Bubble emerging as the last player standing. They earn a Tribe Raid of two items from the losing tribe and send Bubbles from Utu to Exile Island, who chooses D and D from Nanna to join him.
On Exile Island, Bubbles and D and D find urns containing an idol clue and options for mutiny. Opting against mutiny, they return to their respective tribes. In the immunity challenge, Nanna prevails once again, with Bubble hailed as the tribe hero, while Woo-Chang's slow performance leads Utu to another tribal council.
Maho blames Woo-Chang for the loss, but Zapper, disliking Maho, tries to shift the target onto her, backfiring and making him and Woo-Chang the tribe's targets. In Nanna, Jason's berry celebration irks Mesut, leading to a meltdown when his concerns are ignored. Bubble questions the alliance with Mesut, while Ruby decides to replenish the berries Jason distributed, finding the task more challenging than expected.
At Utu's tribal council, the vote is unanimous against Woo-Chang.
Woo-Chang's final words: "This game taught me that even in the wild, social skills are crucial. Looks like my urban charm couldn't save me from the tribal council chopping block."
Episode 5 - "The Muffin Dilemma"
At Utu, it's now Bubbles who's struggling to bond with Maho, while on Nanna, Mesut and The Prophet's relationship worsens, leading them to consider voting each other out when the opportunity arises. Utu wins a reward, earning a trip to a cafe with coffee, pastries, and other treats, along with a much-needed toilet with toilet paper. They decide to send D and D from the losing tribe to Exile Island. D and D, in turn, select Bubbles to join them. On Exile Island, Bubbles is deceived by D and D, who falsely claim they're at the bottom of the Nanna tribe and share the idol clue with him. Feeling there might be a good chance on the other tribe, Bubbles decides to mutiny.
Back at Utu camp, tensions rise as Erika picks fights with Drake and Maho over muffins she saved from the reward challenge but refuses to share. Zapper attempts to diffuse the situation by cooking for everyone, but his efforts only seem to add to the stress. Meanwhile, at Nanna, internal conflicts arise as Mesut struggles to convince Ruby to blindside The Prophet. Jason and The Prophet, confident in their alliance's strength, plan for the future.
Bubbles, influenced by D and D's deception, attempts to turn the tribe against them. The Prophet, harboring strong animosity towards Mesut, finds it absurd that others aren't targeting him for his laziness. Despite Jason's belief in their alliance's unity, Mesut successfully convinces their allies to blindside The Prophet. In a surprising turn of events, The Prophet is voted out in an epic blindside, with a vote of 6-2 against Bubbles.
The Prophet's final words: "Looks like my Survivor prophecy didn't quite unfold as planned. I thought I held all the cards, but in the end, I was just another player in the game."
Episode 6 - "Broken Bonds, Chosen Paths"
At Utu, Erika's muffin debacle leads to strained relations, while at Nanna, post-Prophet departure, the tribe remains chaotic, offering Bubbles an opportunity to exploit divisions. Nanna's triumph in a rewarding challenge brings a refreshing waterfall excursion and a savory burger feast. With the power to send one from each tribe to Exile Island, they choose Erika, who learns of the tribe dynamics and opts to switch sides upon her return.
With the new Nanna tribe, a decisive victory at the immunity challenge. In Utu, with only three remaining members, internal strife intensifies as Zapper and Drake turn against each other, leaving Maho torn between loyalty and strategic advantage. Meanwhile, discord simmers in Nanna as Mesut and Ruby clash over the tribe's future direction. Mesut advocates for voting out all Utu members when the merge arrives, while Ruby sees potential in leveraging their presence for strategic moves.
As tribal council approaches, Maho faces a crucial decision: whether to prioritize personal affinity or strategic gameplay. Despite her preference for Drake, Maho ultimately concludes that Zapper's reliability offers a safer path forward for her game. At tribal council, Maho navigates the delicate balance between loyalty and self-preservation, ultimately opting to safeguard her game by voting out Drake, despite her fondness for him over Zapper.
Drake'sfinal words: "Leaving now feels like saying goodbye to a sinking ship. Maybe if the others had chosen unity over mutiny, things could've ended differently."
Episode 7 - "Trials, Tactics, Triumph"
Maho's surprising decision to spare Zapper raises eyebrows among the others, given their lack of bonding. Nonetheless, Zapper is relieved, grateful for Maho's unexpected loyalty despite their differences. The cast receives the news of the impending merge, transitioning into the Mul tribe. Zapper, relieved by Maho's choice, finds solace in retaining his hidden immunity idol, while Ruby celebrates possessing a secret idol as well.
The immunity challenge tests endurance, with Erika emerging victorious. However, tensions flare at camp when Bubble clashes with D and D, frustrated by their indecisiveness. Meanwhile, Maho struggles to cope with the sudden influx of players and the necessity to both socialize and strategize. Following a heated altercation, Bubble opts to sever ties with his alliance, plotting his course through the unpredictable merge. Erika approaches Zapper with a proposition for a final 2 pact, capitalizing on the chaos of the former Nanna tribe. Zapper, recognizing the opportunity, decides to lay low for the first tribal council. As discussions unfold, Cherri proposes targeting Bubble, citing his lack of immunity and potential for disruption. Unaware of the brewing plot against him, Bubble endeavors to rally votes against D and D, with Maho emerging as an unexpected target due to her struggles with socialization.
Ultimately, at tribal council, Bubble finds himself unanimously voted out, becoming the first casualty of the merge.
Bubble's final words: "I thought my bubbly charm would win me allies, but sometimes, you end up alone in the end."
Episode 8 - "A River of Plots"
Bubbles, Jason, and Ruby triumph in a thrilling reward challenge, treating themselves to a whitewater rafting adventure down a river, followed by a delectable picnic feast. Their victory also affords them the opportunity to exile Maho, who searches in vain for a hidden immunity idol clue during her solitary time on the island.
The following day, Cherri emerges triumphant in the immunity challenge, prompting reflective discussions at camp. Cherri empathizes with D and D's struggles to maintain unity amidst the game's chaos, fostering a deeper connection with them. Meanwhile, Zapper shares personal anecdotes, forging unexpected bonds with D and D.
In strategic deliberations, Cherri advocates for targeting Maho, citing their limited connection, while Bubbles makes a case for voting out Ruby, questioning her perceived lack of depth. Mesut suggests blindsiding Erika, proposing an unexpected move to shake up the game, a plan the alliance reluctantly agrees upon, despite Ruby's preference to target Bubbles. Erika and Zapper find themselves on the outside, devoid of solid information, as suspicions mount.
Aware of the need to protect himself, Zapper decides to play his hidden immunity idol at tribal council, surprising everyone by sacrificing it for Erika's safety. The tribal council unfolds dramatically, with Zapper's idol play nullifying six votes. Ultimately, Ruby is blindsided by the remaining votes, becoming the first member of the jury in a stunning turn of events.
Ruby's final words: "This Tribal council showed me the importance of taking risks. If only I'd taken the chance and played my idol, maybe my story would've ended differently. True strength comes from embracing vulnerability. "
Episode 9 - "Unspoken Agendas"
As the final eight contestants vie for supremacy, Erika and Zapper's alliance strengthens after Zapper's critical save of Erika. Maho seethes with resentment towards Bubbles for withholding crucial information about the plan to oust Ruby, a breach of trust that weighs heavily on Bubbles, who defends his right to strategic secrecy. On the shore, Dan and Danielle share a laugh over Cherri's spot-on impression of Ruby's elimination reaction, cementing their newfound camaraderie. Winning the reward challenge, Erika, Jason, Mahogany, and Mesut indulge in a local village feast, while they send Zapper to Exile Island, where he uncovers a clue to the hidden immunity idol. At the immunity challenge, Erika secures safety with a skilled shuffleboard display, cognizant of the shifting dynamics among the group.
Back at camp, Dan and Danielle discover a surprising connection with Jason, bonding over shared memories from their past. Meanwhile, Bubbles seeks reconciliation with Maho, aligning over mutual distrust of Cherri's influence in the game. Jason's confession reveals his diminishing trust in Mesut, stemming from Mesut's exclusion of Jason from a proposed final four alliance involving former Utu members, except for Maho. Learning of Maho's targeting from Jason, Cherri mobilizes her allies to counter, arguing for Maho's elimination. Despite Erika and Zapper's efforts to spare her, Maho becomes the target, ousted in a 5-3 vote against Cherri, marking her as the second jury member.
Maho's final words: "I'm leaving with a sense of regret for the walls I built instead of bridges."
Episode 10 - "Lost in the Divide"
After Maho's departure, Zapper and Erika find themselves navigating uncertain terrain. Their alliance's survival hinges on strategic maneuvers. Utilizing a clue discovered by Zapper, Erika unearths an idol, sparking hope for their continued dominance. Meanwhile, Bubbles and a unified Dan and Danielle foster newfound camaraderie, surpassing prior disagreements.
During a challenge, Erika's triumph secures a reward for her, Zapper, and Bubbles, fostering deeper bonds over a shared experience. As they indulge in a local feast, Erika exercises her power, sending a reluctant D and D to Exile Island upon Bubbles' suggestion. However, their quest for the idol devolves into internal conflict, fracturing their unity.
After Erika victory at the immunity challenge, Jason severs ties with former allies, recognizing the threat posed by the remaining Utu members. Cherri, alerted to Zapper's intentions, mobilizes opposition against him.
At tribal council, Erika stuns the group, utilizing her idol to safeguard Zapper, blindsiding Cherri in a move of unexpected solidarity. The vote unfolds in a dramatic fashion, with Zapper spared from elimination. However, the repercussions of Erika's bold move reverberate as Cherri becomes the third jury member.
Cherri's final words: "It feels like falling from a pedestal I thought was secure. I never saw that idol play coming, and now, I can't help but wonder where I lost control."
Episode 11 - "Shattered Dreams"
As the sun rises on the island, the search for the newly hidden idol consumes the castaways, each hoping to secure a lifeline in the game. Despite their efforts, the idol remains elusive, leaving everyone on edge. Later, the Survivor Auction brings a semblance of normalcy, but only Jason, Zapper, and D and D manage to acquire food items. D and D's victory comes in the form of a heartfelt video message from home, accompanied by a surprise visit from their father, a gruff Druddigon.
At the immunity challenge, contestants navigate a series of obstacles, memorize symbols, and solve a complex math equation. Erika emerges victorious once again, securing her spot in the final five. Back at camp, Mesut stumbles upon the idol in a previously overlooked area, igniting hope for a game-changing move. Meanwhile, Bubbles finds himself growing weary of managing the dynamics among his fellow castaways, particularly Jason and Zapper, whose energy levels are overwhelming. Jason sets his sights on targeting Mesut, the only remaining player he dislikes, while Erika contemplates the threat posed by D and D, especially after their heartwarming display at the reward challenge. Believing Mesut could be persuaded to flip, Erika initiates a conversation with him, but Mesut expresses a preference for targeting Jason instead. Mesut attempts to sway D and D's vote, but their indecisiveness and his own impatience lead to a deadlock. Ultimately, fearing a blindside, D and D align with Jason's plan to oust Mesut. Meanwhile, Erika and her allies finalize their decision to target D and D.
At tribal council, Mesut shocks everyone by standing up and revealing his intent to use his idol, not for himself, but to save D and D from the Utu alliance's onslaught. Despite Mesut's sacrifice, the votes fall against him in a blindsiding 2-1 vote, making him the first member of the jury and the unwitting victim of his own undoing.
Mesut's final words: "I put my faith in D and D, only to be blindsided by their vote against me. It's a harsh reality to accept."
Chapter 12 - "The Last Stand"
With Mesut's departure, former Nanna members find themselves in the minority, while D and D feel confident in their relationships with the Utu members, that are better than Jason's. Erika's victory in the reward challenge brings respite as she shares her prize with Zapper, enjoying an overnight retreat at the Governor's Retreat.
Upon their return, Zapper secures the immunity collar in a grueling resistance challenge, solidifying his spot in the final four. Erika wastes no time in rallying her allies to target D and D, who become the prime focus of the vote.
Sensing danger, Jason attempts to shift the target to Erika as she's vulnerable this round, but his efforts fall short. At tribal council, D and D are voted out in a close 3-2 vote against Erika, leaving Jason isolated in the game, facing an uncertain future as the last remaining member of his alliance.
Dan's final words: "It was an adventure, and I'm glad we experienced it together."
Danielle's final words: "For me it was a nightmare, and I'm relieved it's finally over."
Final episode Intro
Welcome to the Final Episode of That Pokémon Survivor: Buried Relic. As we reach the pinnacle of this riveting season, let's take a closer look at our four remaining finalists:
Bubbles: After boldly mutinying to a new tribe, Bubbles leveraged his charismatic charm to forge powerful alliances and navigate the turbulent waters of Survivor.
Erika: Master of strategy and alliances, Erika's survival has been bolstered by her ability to form strong bonds and secure immunity when it mattered most. As the leader of the minority, she's poised to make her mark on the game.
Jason: The lone survivor from the Nanna tribe, Jason has persevered against the odds, utilizing his resourcefulness to search for opportunities amidst the dominant Utu alliance.
Zapper: With a blend of social finesse and well-timed idol plays, Zapper has deftly maneuvered through the game, surviving the tribulations of a decimated tribe and emerging as a formidable contender despite being in the minority.
As these four competitors vie for a coveted spot in the finale, the stakes have never been higher. Who will outmaneuver the rest and secure their place in Survivor history? Let's find out together!
Final episode part 1
Jason faces a precarious situation, reliant on immunity for survival amidst the unyielding unity of the Utu alliance. However, Erika secures her fifth immunity, solidifying her spot in the final three. Returning to camp, Erika swiftly strategizes with her allies, sealing Jason's fate. With limited options, Jason finds himself at the mercy of Zapper and Bubbles, each aiming to evade his crosshairs. At tribal council, Jason's departure is unanimous, marking him as the sixth member of the jury.
Jason's final words: "Unfortunately, my game ends here. It's been a wild ride, and I wouldn't trade it for anything."
Final Episode part 2
In the thrilling conclusion, the remaining trio faces a grueling immunity challenge, navigating a treacherous course with one hand tied behind their backs. Erika emerges victorious, securing her place in the final teo. With a pivotal decision looming, Erika deliberates between Bubbles and Zapper. While both boast compelling journeys, Erika ultimately opts for loyalty, choosing Zapper as her ally in the final tribal council. At tribal council, Bubbles is sent packing, joining the esteemed ranks of the final jury member.
Bubbles' final words: "Falling short of the final two stings, but hey, at least I went out with a splash. I knew my time was up when Erika snagged that last immunity."
Final tribal council:
As the final tribal council commences, Erika and Zapper step forward to make their case to the jury. Erika emphasizes her impressive record of six immunity wins, a feat unparalleled in the series, and highlights her adeptness at surviving in the minority through strategic alliances. Zapper follows, recounting his early game idol find, his resilience in a decimated tribe, and his ability to forge unexpected alliances, including with Maho, to secure his position in the majority alliance. With the jury visibly divided, hints of allegiance emerge as they prepare to cast their votes. Ruby appears inclined towards Erika, while Maho leans towards Zapper, reflecting the intricate dynamics at play in this intense final showdown.
Reunion:
As the votes are tallied, tension fills the air, with Zapper ultimately emerging victorious in a nail-biting 4-3 decision against Erika. Despite Erika's formidable challenge prowess, Zapper's compelling personal journey and survival instincts ultimately secured his title as the season's winner, celebrated alongside his family. The reunion continues with the announcement of the fan favorite, with Jason earning the title for his infectious positivity and sharp wit. Surprisingly, Jason also claims third place in the category of most strategic player, a testament to his resilience as the last Nanna standing despite his social challenges. Bubbles takes second place, hailed for his adept navigation of tribal dynamics and impressive survival near the season's end. However, it's Zapper who claims the coveted top spot, recognized for his whole-hearted gameplay and adept utilization of strategic tools, including idol plays and alliances.
Winner: _____Zapper_____
Runner-Up: _____Erika_____
**Fan Favorite:**>! _____Jason_____!<
My thoughts: This was one of my favorite seasons! It has a bunch of iconic moments, Erika's and Zapper's idol plays and reverting their bad situation were a joy to follow, it also has one of the best moments in this season so far on Mesut using his idol on Dan and Danielle who just voted for him! Poor boy! I really love Zapper story as a winner, he survived that bad Utu tribe with someone who didnt like him, I dont know how he reverted that situation. But both of the finalists would be a great winner, Erika winning 6 individual immunities was outstanding, maybe the others were just too bad, I guess.
With this conclusion, the season wraps up, paving the way for the highly anticipated Heroes vs Villains season. I'll select the cast by myself like I did on All-Stars, but I appreciate suggestions, who among the memorable castaways from this season and past seasons will return to vie for supremacy?
Stay tuned for the thrilling sequel!
submitted by somewell to BrantSteele [link] [comments]
Welcome to "That Pokémon Survivor: Buried Relic"! 🌟 In this season, set in the ancient depths of Buried Relic, castaways face a unique twist: Inside the Buried Relic there’s an urn that allow the players to Mutiny. As they navigate treacherous terrain and strategic challenges, they must decide whether to stay loyal to their tribe or forge new alliances. Join us for an unforgettable journey of twists, turns, and the ultimate test of survival! ⚔️🏝️
Watch the season here!
I hope you enjoy it!Cast:
Utu Tribe:- Bubbles, the Finizen. Bubbles may look all sweet and friendly, but that is all an act. He is actually much more ruthless, sadistic, and tough than other Pokémon give him credit for. A huge fan of the game, he will go into it acting all nice and sweet, when actually he will be the unsuspecting puppet master, controlling what his tribe and fellow Pokémon do. Submitted by: u/FrieNads
- Drake, the Machoke. Drake is a Machoke who only wants to have fun and hang out with other Pokémon. He relies on his strength and charisma. He aims to meet new Pokémon to be friends with. Submitted by: u/Wolfnox616
- Erika, the Celebi. Erika has traveled from the beginning of time to the end of it. Being through all time, she has gained many skills and no longer finds anything challenging. She's now going through time looking for something to challenge her, and is interested by this "Survivor" game, hoping it might give her some sort of challenge. Submitted by: u/gemini_b
- Lucia, the Pichu. Lucia is from a well-known family of Pikachu’s who model for various products. As such, she is expected to follow her family business when she evolves. Until then, she plans on having new life experiences and getting her name out there, and Survivor seems like a good place to do both. Overall, she is a jack of all trades but other than her looks she does not excel in anything. Submitted by: Ultdragon
- Mahogany (Maho), the Braixen. A stoic academic, Mahogany (she allows people calling her Maho for short) likes being alone. She moonlights as a magical girl, but her antisocial behavior doesn’t endear herself to her team. Which leads her here, Maho decides she needs to learn to better work with other people for the sake of the world. Submitted by: u/Hi-Shinx her nickname was wrongly misspelled Mahi in the simulator
- Marot, the Raichu. A shy Raichu, Marot did not have a good childhood due to neglect by her parents and constantly being bullied. After her parents were arrested for child neglect when their daughter almost ended up kidnapped, Raichu now lives with a new family. Despite that, she still has trouble socializing with other people. She hopes that with this show Marot can at least gain a friend and if she can, win the competition for her academic studies. Submitted by: u/Nahuelfire39
- Woo-Chang, the Mienshao. A Mienshao who finished suddenly to live in a great city of the Korea Republic. During that "exile", she became really able in social matters. Submitted by: u/NastyShip102
- Zapper, the Zebstrika. Zapper was once in a ranch with a happy family. But a massive flood hit them one day and he got injured in the process. Even when he got out of the hospital, he joined to prove that he's still capable of doing things the right way. Submitted by: u/IdkWhatToDoHere-
- Bubble, the Froakie. Bubble is well known and cheery. They can do a lot of things that others can do but better. Once they found out about this competition, they think they can crush the others even with a happy personality. Submitted by: u/IdkWhatToDoHere-
- Cherri, the Heart Trim Furfrou. Cherri is a delinquent who likes messing with people in petty ways. This is a facade, she is a show Pokémon inside and out, a regular in Pokémon contests and Showcases. She is very vain and haughty but genuinely enjoys stuff like baseball. Besides that, if you do get to know her, Cherri can show her softer side eventually instead of delinquent bravado. Submitted by: u/Hi-Shinx
- Dan and Danielle, the Zweilous. Dan and Danielle have gone through life hating each other and fighting with each other every chance that they have gotten. They are complete opposites of each other, one being smart the other being dumb, one being girly the other being manly and so on. Their parents applied them for this show so it would hopefully be a bonding experience between the two of them getting them to be closer to each other. Will the two be able to work together or will one sink both of their games, as they’re too busy getting in each other's way. Submitted by: u/Yellower_
- Jason, the Ducklett. Known among his friends as the life of the party, Jason plans on portraying the stereotypical party bro. He is trying to win the million like everybody else and hopes that a party boy would be the last person everyone would think is stabbing them in the back. Submitted by: Ultdragon
- Mesut, the Persian. Since he became an adult, Mesut started living like a sultan, becoming able to command his allies. His laziness leads him to go badly in individual challenges. Submitted by: u/Nastyship102
- Paulo, the Skitty. Born into a family of skilled performers, Paulo inherited a love for captivating others with his graceful movements and playful antics. From a young age, he trained tirelessly to perfect his skills, mesmerizing audiences with his agility and charm. But deep down, Paulo yearned for something more than the applause of spectators—he craved the thrill of exploration and discovery. Submitted by: u/Nahuelfire39
- Ruby, the Shiny Skorupi. Ruby is a shiny Skorupi. She knew she was different and was laughed at by other Skorupi for being red. Having been picked on, Ruby lashed out and started acting like her color made her better than others, but deep down she's still insecure. Submitted by: u/gemini_b
- The Prophet, the Arceus. The Prophet isn’t their real name, it’s what they like to call themselves because they are the leader of a cult. Apart from that, nothing else is known about them. They have followers who will do their bidding, and treat them like a god. It’s that social skills and attitude is what they believe will win them the game. If not, then hopefully they can some more members for their cult. Submitted by:
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Episode 1 - "Trek Through Tribulations"
The cast learns they must trek for four hours through rough terrain to reach their respective tribe's campsite. Adding to the stress, one member from each tribe is immediately subjected to a vote. At Utu tribe, first impressions guide the decision-making process, leaving Drake as the chosen one to stay behind. Meanwhile, at Nanna tribe, The Prophet is designated as the supposed liability. Both Drake and The Prophet initially fear they're being cast out. To their relief, they discover they'll be airlifted directly to their campsite while their tribemates trek on foot. Arriving at their campsites, the castaways must choose: search for an immunity idol or start building shelter. Drake and Marot both opt for the idol, successfully finding it. This raises suspicions among their tribemates when they arrive at the camps. Zapper, working on shelters, stumbles upon a hidden immunity idol.
Nanna celebrates their first immunity win. Back at Utu camp, Drake, moved by Zapper's story, expresses interest in allying. Bubbles sees this as an opportunity to improve his image and proposes an alliance with Zapper. Erika targets Lucia for poor performance, while Lucia attempts to shift blame onto Marot. Drake sought to redirect the target onto Woo-Chang. In a private conversation, Bubbles and Zapper agree to vote out Lucia. Over at Nanna camp, Mesut's refusal to contribute causes tension with Paulo and The Prophet. After that Paulo bonds with Cherri, discovering her softer side. Unbeknownst to others, Mesut has formed a strong alliance with Bubble, Jason, and Ruby.
At Utu's tribal council, tensions run high as votes are cast. Lucia is voted out in a 6-2 decision against Woo-Chang, leaving her feeling betrayed and unsure whom to trust.
Lucia's final words: "Maybe I should've focused less on my family's legacy and more on forging my own path in the game. Lesson learned, I guess."
Episode 2 "Struggle for Supremacy"
At the immunity challenge, three castaways from each tribe face off in a river, retrieving a ball to score points for their tribe. Nanna secures their second immunity win! They select Zapper from the losing tribe to go to Exile Island, who then chooses The Prophet from Nanna to join him. On Exile Island, Zapper and The Prophet find two urns: one with an idol clue and the option to mutiny, the other empty. Zapper chooses the bottle with the clue and shares it with The Prophet. They decide against mutiny.
Back at Utu camp, Woo-Chang sees potential in aligning with Erika and proposes voting together, which she accepts. Meanwhile, Zapper and Bubbles silently dissolve their alliance, realizing the need for more options. Maho also approaches Erika, who agrees to align, and they decide to target Marot due to his targeting of Bubbles.
In Nanna tribe, Jason and Mesut clash over food duties, with Dan and Danielle defending Mesut's berry gathering efforts. Bubble and Cherri discuss forming a big alliance, including Dan, Danielle, Mesut, Paulo, and Ruby, leaving Jason and The Prophet on the outside.
At Utu's tribal council, Marot is voted out 5-2 against Bubble, with Drake again in the minority.
Marot's final words: "This was supposed to be my chance to break out of my shell, but instead, I feel like I've been shocked back into it."
Episode 3 - Stacking the Odds"
The episode opens with Ruby excitedly revealing she found the hidden immunity idol concealed behind a trunk while searching for water. Later, Nanna triumphs in a reward challenge, earning a bounty of comforts. They select Erika from Utu to join Ruby on Exile Island. On Exile Island, Erika opts for the urn containing the idol clue and options but decides against mutiny. Meanwhile, at the immunity challenge, castaways race to retrieve crates in their tribe's colors, stacking them into a staircase. Utu secures their first immunity win!
Back at Utu camp, Erika confesses she only aligned with Maho out of necessity, expressing doubts about their compatibility. Cherri and Bubble clash over the vote, prompting Cherri to seek an alternative alliance with Dan, Danielle, Jason, and The Prophet. However, she fails to sway them to target Paulo, as The Prophet insists it's Paulo's destiny to go home. Frustrated, Cherri opts to follow her six-person majority alliance but secretly plots against The Prophet. Fearing an idol, the alliance decides to split their votes between Jason and The Prophet.
However, at tribal council, The Prophet shocks everyone by revealing his idol and instructing the tribe to vote for Paulo. Confusion ensues, leading to a chaotic vote. Ultimately, Paulo is voted out in a surprising 5-3 decision against Jason, confirming The Prophet's prophecy.
Paulo's final words: "Survivor was like a dance of trust and deceit, and I found myself tripping over false promises. I thought I had loyal allies, but they were just waiting for the right moment to stab me in the back."
Episode 4 - "Berry Celebrations"
At Utu camp, bonds are forming among the tribe members, except for Maho, whose antisocial nature prevents her from connecting with Zapper. In contrast, the Nanna tribe faces dysfunction with numerous alliances and relationships. Nanna triumphs in a grueling resistance challenge, with Bubble emerging as the last player standing. They earn a Tribe Raid of two items from the losing tribe and send Bubbles from Utu to Exile Island, who chooses D and D from Nanna to join him.
On Exile Island, Bubbles and D and D find urns containing an idol clue and options for mutiny. Opting against mutiny, they return to their respective tribes. In the immunity challenge, Nanna prevails once again, with Bubble hailed as the tribe hero, while Woo-Chang's slow performance leads Utu to another tribal council.
Maho blames Woo-Chang for the loss, but Zapper, disliking Maho, tries to shift the target onto her, backfiring and making him and Woo-Chang the tribe's targets. In Nanna, Jason's berry celebration irks Mesut, leading to a meltdown when his concerns are ignored. Bubble questions the alliance with Mesut, while Ruby decides to replenish the berries Jason distributed, finding the task more challenging than expected.
At Utu's tribal council, the vote is unanimous against Woo-Chang.
Woo-Chang's final words: "This game taught me that even in the wild, social skills are crucial. Looks like my urban charm couldn't save me from the tribal council chopping block."
Episode 5 - "The Muffin Dilemma"
At Utu, it's now Bubbles who's struggling to bond with Maho, while on Nanna, Mesut and The Prophet's relationship worsens, leading them to consider voting each other out when the opportunity arises. Utu wins a reward, earning a trip to a cafe with coffee, pastries, and other treats, along with a much-needed toilet with toilet paper. They decide to send D and D from the losing tribe to Exile Island. D and D, in turn, select Bubbles to join them. On Exile Island, Bubbles is deceived by D and D, who falsely claim they're at the bottom of the Nanna tribe and share the idol clue with him. Feeling there might be a good chance on the other tribe, Bubbles decides to mutiny.
Back at Utu camp, tensions rise as Erika picks fights with Drake and Maho over muffins she saved from the reward challenge but refuses to share. Zapper attempts to diffuse the situation by cooking for everyone, but his efforts only seem to add to the stress. Meanwhile, at Nanna, internal conflicts arise as Mesut struggles to convince Ruby to blindside The Prophet. Jason and The Prophet, confident in their alliance's strength, plan for the future.
Bubbles, influenced by D and D's deception, attempts to turn the tribe against them. The Prophet, harboring strong animosity towards Mesut, finds it absurd that others aren't targeting him for his laziness. Despite Jason's belief in their alliance's unity, Mesut successfully convinces their allies to blindside The Prophet. In a surprising turn of events, The Prophet is voted out in an epic blindside, with a vote of 6-2 against Bubbles.
The Prophet's final words: "Looks like my Survivor prophecy didn't quite unfold as planned. I thought I held all the cards, but in the end, I was just another player in the game."
Episode 6 - "Broken Bonds, Chosen Paths"
At Utu, Erika's muffin debacle leads to strained relations, while at Nanna, post-Prophet departure, the tribe remains chaotic, offering Bubbles an opportunity to exploit divisions. Nanna's triumph in a rewarding challenge brings a refreshing waterfall excursion and a savory burger feast. With the power to send one from each tribe to Exile Island, they choose Erika, who learns of the tribe dynamics and opts to switch sides upon her return.
With the new Nanna tribe, a decisive victory at the immunity challenge. In Utu, with only three remaining members, internal strife intensifies as Zapper and Drake turn against each other, leaving Maho torn between loyalty and strategic advantage. Meanwhile, discord simmers in Nanna as Mesut and Ruby clash over the tribe's future direction. Mesut advocates for voting out all Utu members when the merge arrives, while Ruby sees potential in leveraging their presence for strategic moves.
As tribal council approaches, Maho faces a crucial decision: whether to prioritize personal affinity or strategic gameplay. Despite her preference for Drake, Maho ultimately concludes that Zapper's reliability offers a safer path forward for her game. At tribal council, Maho navigates the delicate balance between loyalty and self-preservation, ultimately opting to safeguard her game by voting out Drake, despite her fondness for him over Zapper.
Drake'sfinal words: "Leaving now feels like saying goodbye to a sinking ship. Maybe if the others had chosen unity over mutiny, things could've ended differently."
Episode 7 - "Trials, Tactics, Triumph"
Maho's surprising decision to spare Zapper raises eyebrows among the others, given their lack of bonding. Nonetheless, Zapper is relieved, grateful for Maho's unexpected loyalty despite their differences. The cast receives the news of the impending merge, transitioning into the Mul tribe. Zapper, relieved by Maho's choice, finds solace in retaining his hidden immunity idol, while Ruby celebrates possessing a secret idol as well.
The immunity challenge tests endurance, with Erika emerging victorious. However, tensions flare at camp when Bubble clashes with D and D, frustrated by their indecisiveness. Meanwhile, Maho struggles to cope with the sudden influx of players and the necessity to both socialize and strategize. Following a heated altercation, Bubble opts to sever ties with his alliance, plotting his course through the unpredictable merge. Erika approaches Zapper with a proposition for a final 2 pact, capitalizing on the chaos of the former Nanna tribe. Zapper, recognizing the opportunity, decides to lay low for the first tribal council. As discussions unfold, Cherri proposes targeting Bubble, citing his lack of immunity and potential for disruption. Unaware of the brewing plot against him, Bubble endeavors to rally votes against D and D, with Maho emerging as an unexpected target due to her struggles with socialization.
Ultimately, at tribal council, Bubble finds himself unanimously voted out, becoming the first casualty of the merge.
Bubble's final words: "I thought my bubbly charm would win me allies, but sometimes, you end up alone in the end."
Episode 8 - "A River of Plots"
Bubbles, Jason, and Ruby triumph in a thrilling reward challenge, treating themselves to a whitewater rafting adventure down a river, followed by a delectable picnic feast. Their victory also affords them the opportunity to exile Maho, who searches in vain for a hidden immunity idol clue during her solitary time on the island.
The following day, Cherri emerges triumphant in the immunity challenge, prompting reflective discussions at camp. Cherri empathizes with D and D's struggles to maintain unity amidst the game's chaos, fostering a deeper connection with them. Meanwhile, Zapper shares personal anecdotes, forging unexpected bonds with D and D.
In strategic deliberations, Cherri advocates for targeting Maho, citing their limited connection, while Bubbles makes a case for voting out Ruby, questioning her perceived lack of depth. Mesut suggests blindsiding Erika, proposing an unexpected move to shake up the game, a plan the alliance reluctantly agrees upon, despite Ruby's preference to target Bubbles. Erika and Zapper find themselves on the outside, devoid of solid information, as suspicions mount.
Aware of the need to protect himself, Zapper decides to play his hidden immunity idol at tribal council, surprising everyone by sacrificing it for Erika's safety. The tribal council unfolds dramatically, with Zapper's idol play nullifying six votes. Ultimately, Ruby is blindsided by the remaining votes, becoming the first member of the jury in a stunning turn of events.
Ruby's final words: "This Tribal council showed me the importance of taking risks. If only I'd taken the chance and played my idol, maybe my story would've ended differently. True strength comes from embracing vulnerability. "
Episode 9 - "Unspoken Agendas"
As the final eight contestants vie for supremacy, Erika and Zapper's alliance strengthens after Zapper's critical save of Erika. Maho seethes with resentment towards Bubbles for withholding crucial information about the plan to oust Ruby, a breach of trust that weighs heavily on Bubbles, who defends his right to strategic secrecy. On the shore, Dan and Danielle share a laugh over Cherri's spot-on impression of Ruby's elimination reaction, cementing their newfound camaraderie. Winning the reward challenge, Erika, Jason, Mahogany, and Mesut indulge in a local village feast, while they send Zapper to Exile Island, where he uncovers a clue to the hidden immunity idol. At the immunity challenge, Erika secures safety with a skilled shuffleboard display, cognizant of the shifting dynamics among the group.
Back at camp, Dan and Danielle discover a surprising connection with Jason, bonding over shared memories from their past. Meanwhile, Bubbles seeks reconciliation with Maho, aligning over mutual distrust of Cherri's influence in the game. Jason's confession reveals his diminishing trust in Mesut, stemming from Mesut's exclusion of Jason from a proposed final four alliance involving former Utu members, except for Maho. Learning of Maho's targeting from Jason, Cherri mobilizes her allies to counter, arguing for Maho's elimination. Despite Erika and Zapper's efforts to spare her, Maho becomes the target, ousted in a 5-3 vote against Cherri, marking her as the second jury member.
Maho's final words: "I'm leaving with a sense of regret for the walls I built instead of bridges."
Episode 10 - "Lost in the Divide"
After Maho's departure, Zapper and Erika find themselves navigating uncertain terrain. Their alliance's survival hinges on strategic maneuvers. Utilizing a clue discovered by Zapper, Erika unearths an idol, sparking hope for their continued dominance. Meanwhile, Bubbles and a unified Dan and Danielle foster newfound camaraderie, surpassing prior disagreements.
During a challenge, Erika's triumph secures a reward for her, Zapper, and Bubbles, fostering deeper bonds over a shared experience. As they indulge in a local feast, Erika exercises her power, sending a reluctant D and D to Exile Island upon Bubbles' suggestion. However, their quest for the idol devolves into internal conflict, fracturing their unity.
After Erika victory at the immunity challenge, Jason severs ties with former allies, recognizing the threat posed by the remaining Utu members. Cherri, alerted to Zapper's intentions, mobilizes opposition against him.
At tribal council, Erika stuns the group, utilizing her idol to safeguard Zapper, blindsiding Cherri in a move of unexpected solidarity. The vote unfolds in a dramatic fashion, with Zapper spared from elimination. However, the repercussions of Erika's bold move reverberate as Cherri becomes the third jury member.
Cherri's final words: "It feels like falling from a pedestal I thought was secure. I never saw that idol play coming, and now, I can't help but wonder where I lost control."
Episode 11 - "Shattered Dreams"
As the sun rises on the island, the search for the newly hidden idol consumes the castaways, each hoping to secure a lifeline in the game. Despite their efforts, the idol remains elusive, leaving everyone on edge. Later, the Survivor Auction brings a semblance of normalcy, but only Jason, Zapper, and D and D manage to acquire food items. D and D's victory comes in the form of a heartfelt video message from home, accompanied by a surprise visit from their father, a gruff Druddigon.
At the immunity challenge, contestants navigate a series of obstacles, memorize symbols, and solve a complex math equation. Erika emerges victorious once again, securing her spot in the final five. Back at camp, Mesut stumbles upon the idol in a previously overlooked area, igniting hope for a game-changing move. Meanwhile, Bubbles finds himself growing weary of managing the dynamics among his fellow castaways, particularly Jason and Zapper, whose energy levels are overwhelming. Jason sets his sights on targeting Mesut, the only remaining player he dislikes, while Erika contemplates the threat posed by D and D, especially after their heartwarming display at the reward challenge. Believing Mesut could be persuaded to flip, Erika initiates a conversation with him, but Mesut expresses a preference for targeting Jason instead. Mesut attempts to sway D and D's vote, but their indecisiveness and his own impatience lead to a deadlock. Ultimately, fearing a blindside, D and D align with Jason's plan to oust Mesut. Meanwhile, Erika and her allies finalize their decision to target D and D.
At tribal council, Mesut shocks everyone by standing up and revealing his intent to use his idol, not for himself, but to save D and D from the Utu alliance's onslaught. Despite Mesut's sacrifice, the votes fall against him in a blindsiding 2-1 vote, making him the first member of the jury and the unwitting victim of his own undoing.
Mesut's final words: "I put my faith in D and D, only to be blindsided by their vote against me. It's a harsh reality to accept."
Chapter 12 - "The Last Stand"
With Mesut's departure, former Nanna members find themselves in the minority, while D and D feel confident in their relationships with the Utu members, that are better than Jason's. Erika's victory in the reward challenge brings respite as she shares her prize with Zapper, enjoying an overnight retreat at the Governor's Retreat.
Upon their return, Zapper secures the immunity collar in a grueling resistance challenge, solidifying his spot in the final four. Erika wastes no time in rallying her allies to target D and D, who become the prime focus of the vote.
Sensing danger, Jason attempts to shift the target to Erika as she's vulnerable this round, but his efforts fall short. At tribal council, D and D are voted out in a close 3-2 vote against Erika, leaving Jason isolated in the game, facing an uncertain future as the last remaining member of his alliance.
Dan's final words: "It was an adventure, and I'm glad we experienced it together."
Danielle's final words: "For me it was a nightmare, and I'm relieved it's finally over."
Final episode Intro
Welcome to the Final Episode of That Pokémon Survivor: Buried Relic. As we reach the pinnacle of this riveting season, let's take a closer look at our four remaining finalists:
Bubbles: After boldly mutinying to a new tribe, Bubbles leveraged his charismatic charm to forge powerful alliances and navigate the turbulent waters of Survivor.
Erika: Master of strategy and alliances, Erika's survival has been bolstered by her ability to form strong bonds and secure immunity when it mattered most. As the leader of the minority, she's poised to make her mark on the game.
Jason: The lone survivor from the Nanna tribe, Jason has persevered against the odds, utilizing his resourcefulness to search for opportunities amidst the dominant Utu alliance.
Zapper: With a blend of social finesse and well-timed idol plays, Zapper has deftly maneuvered through the game, surviving the tribulations of a decimated tribe and emerging as a formidable contender despite being in the minority.
As these four competitors vie for a coveted spot in the finale, the stakes have never been higher. Who will outmaneuver the rest and secure their place in Survivor history? Let's find out together!
Final episode part 1
Jason faces a precarious situation, reliant on immunity for survival amidst the unyielding unity of the Utu alliance. However, Erika secures her fifth immunity, solidifying her spot in the final three. Returning to camp, Erika swiftly strategizes with her allies, sealing Jason's fate. With limited options, Jason finds himself at the mercy of Zapper and Bubbles, each aiming to evade his crosshairs. At tribal council, Jason's departure is unanimous, marking him as the sixth member of the jury.
Jason's final words: "Unfortunately, my game ends here. It's been a wild ride, and I wouldn't trade it for anything."
Final Episode part 2
In the thrilling conclusion, the remaining trio faces a grueling immunity challenge, navigating a treacherous course with one hand tied behind their backs. Erika emerges victorious, securing her place in the final teo. With a pivotal decision looming, Erika deliberates between Bubbles and Zapper. While both boast compelling journeys, Erika ultimately opts for loyalty, choosing Zapper as her ally in the final tribal council. At tribal council, Bubbles is sent packing, joining the esteemed ranks of the final jury member.
Bubbles' final words: "Falling short of the final two stings, but hey, at least I went out with a splash. I knew my time was up when Erika snagged that last immunity."
Final tribal council:
As the final tribal council commences, Erika and Zapper step forward to make their case to the jury. Erika emphasizes her impressive record of six immunity wins, a feat unparalleled in the series, and highlights her adeptness at surviving in the minority through strategic alliances. Zapper follows, recounting his early game idol find, his resilience in a decimated tribe, and his ability to forge unexpected alliances, including with Maho, to secure his position in the majority alliance. With the jury visibly divided, hints of allegiance emerge as they prepare to cast their votes. Ruby appears inclined towards Erika, while Maho leans towards Zapper, reflecting the intricate dynamics at play in this intense final showdown.
Reunion:
As the votes are tallied, tension fills the air, with Zapper ultimately emerging victorious in a nail-biting 4-3 decision against Erika. Despite Erika's formidable challenge prowess, Zapper's compelling personal journey and survival instincts ultimately secured his title as the season's winner, celebrated alongside his family. The reunion continues with the announcement of the fan favorite, with Jason earning the title for his infectious positivity and sharp wit. Surprisingly, Jason also claims third place in the category of most strategic player, a testament to his resilience as the last Nanna standing despite his social challenges. Bubbles takes second place, hailed for his adept navigation of tribal dynamics and impressive survival near the season's end. However, it's Zapper who claims the coveted top spot, recognized for his whole-hearted gameplay and adept utilization of strategic tools, including idol plays and alliances.
Runner-Up: _____Erika_____
**Fan Favorite:**>! _____Jason_____!<
My thoughts: This was one of my favorite seasons! It has a bunch of iconic moments, Erika's and Zapper's idol plays and reverting their bad situation were a joy to follow, it also has one of the best moments in this season so far on Mesut using his idol on Dan and Danielle who just voted for him! Poor boy! I really love Zapper story as a winner, he survived that bad Utu tribe with someone who didnt like him, I dont know how he reverted that situation. But both of the finalists would be a great winner, Erika winning 6 individual immunities was outstanding, maybe the others were just too bad, I guess.
With this conclusion, the season wraps up, paving the way for the highly anticipated Heroes vs Villains season. I'll select the cast by myself like I did on All-Stars, but I appreciate suggestions, who among the memorable castaways from this season and past seasons will return to vie for supremacy?
Stay tuned for the thrilling sequel!
2024.01.11 15:53 somewell [S] That Pokémon Survivor: Silver Trench
Hello guys
Welcome to "That Pokémon Survivor: Silver Trench" 🌊🌌, where Pokémon from all corners of the Pokémon world dive into the mysterious depths of the Silver Trench! In this aquatic adventure, they'll face the unexplored ocean depths, form alliances, and confront unforeseen challenges as they vie for the prestigious title of Sole Survivor! Amidst the swirling currents and hidden mysteries of the Silver Trench, which Pokémon will demonstrate their resilience and emerge victorious in the ultimate battle for supremacy? 🌌🌊
You can read the summary I made or just make your assumptions :D
Please comment with your thoughts and the most liked players. Did we have a good winner or someone was robbed? Who should return?
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Ashton, the Sirfetch'd: Raised in luxury by the wealthy, Ashton is accustomed to a pampered life. Determined to save his owner's mansion from being sold, he plans to use the Survivor prize money to solve the problem, even if the rough conditions of the game are positively dreadful for him. Submitted by u/UltDragon.
Benny, the Corphish: Hailing from a shady neighborhood, Benny joined a gang to survive, but now seeks a fresh start. Hoping to leave his troubled past behind, he aspires to use the winnings from Survivor to carve out a better life for himself. Submitted by u/UltDragon.
Casey, the Nickit: Known for her impulsive and rash decision-making, Casey, who prefers the name "Cassie," is a transgender Pokémon. Her bestest friend Luca is the only one aware of this fact, as she navigates the game with her unique approach. Submitted by u/Hi-Shinx. (I forgot to change her preferred name in the simulator, but i remembered on the writing)
Luxie, the Girafarig: Enduring bullying for her distinctive appearance with two faces, Luxie developed a self-reliant attitude. She harbors a disregard for others, using them as pawns to further her own agenda. Convinced of her ability to outmaneuver everyone, Luxie sees Survivor as the perfect arena to showcase her cunning. Submitted by u/Yellower_.
Manny, the Venusaur: Manipulative and cunning, Manny employs his intelligence to talk down to others and manipulate them for strategic advantage. His journey in Survivor is marked by a shrewd mindset and a willingness to use others to propel himself further in the game. Submitted by u/IdkWhatToDoHere-.
Marcy, the Meltan: Living a secluded life with fellow Meltan, Marcy seeks to break free from her insular world. Eager to interact with non-Meltan and experience a broader social landscape, she joins Survivor with the hope of overcoming her communication barriers and connecting with others. Submitted by u/TEARSOFDESPAIR.
Nikki, the Ceruledge: A self-proclaimed lone wolf, Nikki revels in her independence and prides herself on being a formidable fighter. Having won battles against 100 Pokémon using only her hands, she approaches Survivor with a relentless determination, ready to fire back fivefold at anyone attempting to cross her. Submitted by u/FrieNads.
Ningyo, the Primarina: Highly regarded by others, Ningyo hides a hidden ability – the knack for betraying allies while excelling in challenges. However, her Achilles' heel lies in low stamina, potentially serving as a long-term hindrance in the game. Submitted by u/NastyShip102.
Yun Tribe:
Christy, the Corsola: An attentive and loving Corsola, Christy aims to be a beacon of support for others, maintaining a friendly and optimistic demeanor. Dedicated to being a positive force even in challenging situations, she aspires to be the bright spot in the tribe's journey through Survivor. Submitted by u/TheRegalOneGen.
Fiducia, the Solgaleo: Firmly believing in the power of loyalty as the ultimate weapon, Fiducia carries strength that cannot be ignored. With an unwavering commitment to this principle, he navigates the complexities of Survivor, viewing loyalty as both a shield and a sword. Submitted by u/NastyShip102.
Jacob, the Swalot: Hailing from Hoenn's marshy terrains, Jacob, the Swalot, combines intelligence with astuteness. Masterfully utilizing toxic abilities in battles, he is reclusive and antisocial, preferring solitary exploration over social interactions with other Pokémon. Submitted by u/xXiDamXx.
LJ, the Lucario: A well-known Pokémon famed for starring in action movies, LJ grapples with the downsides of popularity. Seeking to win Survivor money for an early retirement and to escape the drawbacks of his fanbase, he hopes to conclude his career on a high note. Submitted by u/IdkWhatToDoHere-.
Luca, the Linoone: Embracing her identity as an idiotic and ditzy Pokémon, Luca pays little heed to perceptions of her being slow. Unfazed by societal expectations, she carries herself with an air of carefree nonchalance. Submitted by u/Hi-Shinx.
Morton, the Cetitan: Applying to Survivor out of sheer boredom, Morton is an enigma who joined the show without fully understanding its dynamics. Adhering to his authentic self, he navigates the challenges with the hope that being genuine will lead him to victory. Submitted by u/FrieNads.
Pistil, the Petilil: Hailing from a family with a protective streak due to his weak stature, Pistil strives to prove his independence and capability. Working tirelessly on the family farm, he aims to demonstrate his strength on Survivor, dispelling any doubts about his abilities. Submitted by u/Yellower_.
Tony, the Iron Jugulis: Unaware of his mother's robotic origins (Magearna), Tony aspires to emulate his father's strength, a formidable Hydreigon. Seeking to unravel the mystery of his own robotic nature, he joins Survivor with the hope that appearing on TV will bring him closer to meeting his mother. Submitted by u/TEARSOFDESPAIR.
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Season summary
Episode 1: "Temple Tensions"
The 16 castaways were captivated as they arrived at the Silver Trench, the allure of a submerged temple pulling them in. Fiducia observed with a quiet intensity, recognizing the potential for alliances amidst the tribal dynamics. Meanwhile, Luca playfully explored the surroundings, seemingly oblivious to the historical significance of the temple. Gathered around the submerged structure, Luxie couldn't conceal her disdain; the carvings held no meaning for her, viewing the visit as an unnecessary distraction. Alongside her, Manny, the cunning Venusaur, assessed strategic possibilities with a sly smile. Marcy approached the temple with a metallic gleam, curiosity, and trepidation in her eyes. Unaccustomed to vast expanses, she marveled at the intricate carvings on the walls.
In the immunity challenge, Xing triumphed, securing immunity and a flint for fire. Back at camp, Luxie and Marcy's differing perspectives sparked a small altercation, with Ningyo siding with Marcy. On the strategic front, Luxie and Manny initiated an alliance with Ashton and Nikki, aiming to seize control. In Yun, Christy formed bonds with Pistil and Morton, securing an alliance with the powerful Fiducia. As the tribe navigated the social game, Tony observed from the sidelines, recognizing the simplicity of the first Tribal Council vote. Luca became the target due to perceived slowness, leading him to attempt to shift the vote onto Morton. However, Luca's plans crumbled at the Tribal Council, resulting in a 7-1 vote against him.
Episode 2: "Hidden Bonds, Exposed Truths"
Both tribes struggled to keep warm in the damp. Yun won rewards—fishing gear and a boat—and kidnapped Marcy, who seized an opportunity to give Tony a hidden immunity idol clue. Their futile search led to a massive fight, but they reconciled, forming an unexpected alliance as Marcy aided him in the idol quest. Yun secured immunity, leaving Xing vulnerable.
At Xing, minor disagreements and shifting alliances unfolded. Cassie and Nikki disagreed on performance, while Ningyo warned Luxie about Marcy's cross-tribal ties. Ashton disagreed with Ningyon, dismissing Marcy as too dumb. Manny decided to shift his game, aligning with Cassie and Ningyo. On deciding on who to vote, Luxie threw Marcy under the bus, suggesting she was plotting with the other tribe. Marcy, oblivious, believed Ningyo was the target. However, Ningyo rallied allies, suggesting her to vote for Benny instead.
At Yun, Christy and Tony clashed over suspicions about the idol. Meanwhile Jacob is able to make fire for the tribe, making everyone happy. Fiducia and Christy gets distant these days and they realize their duo is not a thing anymore. Seeking help to find the idol, Tony formed an unexpected trio with Jacob and LJ. The episode ends with Xing's tribal council resulted in a unanimous 7-1 vote to eliminate Marcy, revealing Survivor's unforgiving nature.
Episode 3: "Shifting Sands of Allegiance"
After Marcy's departure, Ningyo accidentally discovers Xing's hidden immunity idol while fetching water in the morning. Simultaneously, in the Yun tribe, Jacob successfully locates the idol using Tony's clue and decides to keep it a secret for now. Yun secures a reward, kidnapping Nikki, who unwittingly hands Jacob another idol clue, unaware he already possesses the idol. Meanwhile, Tony and Pistil engage in a lighthearted discussion about privileges, masking Tony's internal meltdown over his idol search.
Pistil, sensing discord between Fiducia and Christy, takes the initiative to reunite them, forming a trio. Xing, determined to rebound, clinches immunity. In Yun, LJ experiences a major meltdown, feeling responsible for the tribe's loss and succumbing to jealousy over the tribe praising Tony. Fiducia seeks more control, aligning with Jacob, who suggests targeting Christy, Tony's perceived antagonist. Meanwhile, Tony aims to eliminate Fiducia, viewing her as an authoritative figure, while Fiducia targets Morton. Jacob successfully convinces LJ and Tony to vote for Christy, but in last minute Fiducia induces him to vote on Morton.
At tribal council, a shocking blindside unfolds as LJ is voted out in an epic 3-2-2 against Christy and Morton. Jacob becoming quite frustrated that he changed his vote from Christy, unaware Morton did the same.
Episode 4: "Idol Gambit"
Xing tribe stands divided into two trios, with Benny caught in the middle, while Yun is dominated by the potent alliance of Jacob and Tony, overshadowing other dynamics led by Fiducia. Yun's reward win leads to kidnapping Ashton, who unknowingly hands Jacob an idol clue, oblivious to Jacob already possessing the idol. Ashton's attempt to connect with Yun falls flat due to a mismatch in personalities. Xing secures immunity once again, placing Yun in a vulnerable position for tribal council.
Back at the Yun camp, Manny and Ningyo engage in a deep conversation about the game, envisioning a thrilling finale where they face off against each other. Meanwhile, Fiducia faces a major meltdown after their defeat, torn over the impending vote. Tony, discontent with Fiducia's motherly role in the tribe, targets her, especially since Fiducia blames him for the tribe's losses. However, Jacob has his sights set on Morton, viewing him as a potential liability in future challenges.
As tribal council approaches, tensions rise. Jacob tries to convince Tony to vote for Morton, and they both agree to target Christy. Meanwhile, Fiducia tells Jacob she will vote as he wants, despite her other alliance going on Tony. At tribal council, sensing deception, Jacob plays his idol, unsure whom to protect, ultimately using it for Tony. The first two votes against Tony are nullified, leaving uncertainty. The votes unfold—one for Fiducia, one for Christy, one for Morton—and the suspenseful final vote is cast for Christy. Another epic blindside reshapes the dynamics of Yun tribe.
Episode 5: "Tribe Transitions"
After a shocking tribal council, each tribe is tasked with selecting the two strongest players from the opposing tribe to switch sides. Xing chooses Jacob and Tony from Yun, placing them at the bottom of the new tribe but with a reliable alliance. Yun selects Benny and Nikki from Xing, leaving them in a minority without the support of their former tribe. Despite the shift, Yun secures immunity.
Back at the Xing camp, tensions rise as Cassie and Tony engage in a major fight, blaming each other for the challenge performance. Jacob attempts to mediate, emphasizing the need to play a low profile, but Tony disagrees. Feeling unsupported by her alliance, Cassie decides to play alone. Jacob identifies Ashton as potentially on the outs and rallies against him, while Ashton advocates for voting out Cassie, whom he sees as responsible for the challenge loss. Manny and Ningyo align with Jacob's strategy to target Ashton, fearing Cassie's potential elimination.
At Yun, Fiducia and Pistil dissolve their alliance due to diverging game strategies. Yun's tribal council sees Jacob's plan unfold successfully, resulting in Ashton's elimination in a 5-2 vote against Cassie.
Episode 6: "Teahouse Tensions"
Yun secures a reward, earning a teahouse visit with a bath and shower. They also kidnap Ningyo, who receives a clue to the hidden immunity idol and passes it to Pistil, sharing the story of Jacob's idol play. Despite this strategic exchange, Fiducia and Nikki clash over camp roles, escalating into a major fight. However, Yun rallies to win immunity.
At Xing, Cassie and Luxie engage in a small dispute about Luxie's previous vote against Cassie. Manny and Ningyo decide to play independently, but Luxie suggests forming an alliance Ningyo. Despite her conflict with Luxie, Cassie believes Tony is the best vote. However, Ningyo and Jacob target each other, while Tony sees Manny as the ideal vote. Fearing Ningyo's access to valuable information, Jacob and Tony decide to vote her out. Meanwhile, Ningyo discusses Jacob and Tony's powerful alliance with Luxie, highlighting their lack of an idol as a potential vulnerability. At tribal council, Jacob is blindsided in a 4-2 vote against Ningyo, marking the end of his game disrupted by the swap.
Episode 7: "Merge Melodies"
The much-anticipated merge finally arrives, forming the Yin tribe, which will reside at the Xing camp due to their majority. The merged tribe enjoys an extravagant feast accompanied by fireworks, dancers, contortionists, and acrobats. Despite the festivities, many castaways keep their focus on the game and the new individual dynamics. Tony mourns the loss of his ally Jacob but finds solace in deepening his connection with Morton.
At the Immunity challenge, the merged tribe competes by answering questions about the merge feast and performance. Incorrect answers result in automatic elimination, and Pistil emerges victorious with individual immunity. Back at camp, Morton and Tony strengthen their bond, realizing they need each other more than ever. Ningyo and Pistil, happy to reunite, plan to work together.
Tony, anticipating potential animosity toward Yun members, suggests targeting Fiducia as the leader of the old Yun tribe. Cassie disagrees, advocating for Benny's elimination, given his outsider status. Benny, targeting Morton, reflects on their lack of connection during the merge feast. Fiducia, discovering Tony's attempt to throw her name, retaliates by targeting him. Luxie, Nikki, and Ningyo decide to vote out Fiducia.
At tribal council, chaos ensues as names are thrown around. A close vote unfolds between Benny, Morton, and Fiducia, with three votes for each. The last vote is read, and in a narrow 4-3-3 vote, Fiducia becomes the first member of the jury in another unpredictable tribal council.
Episode 8: "Village Vendettas"
The game intensifies with two clear duos emerging: Morton and Tony, and Ningyo and Luxie. The reward challenge involves a selection chain, resulting in two teams of four and one player left out. Cassie, the odd one out, sits out. The challenge requires members to try and sink the opposing team's boat in a pool, with Nikki, Benny, Morton, and Pistil emerging victorious. They win a village trip for an authentic local meal and a clue to the Hidden Immunity Idol.
In a resistance challenge, Nikki secures individual immunity. Back at camp, chaos ensues as Benny stirs trouble, first engaging in a major fight with Ningyo over shady comments. Pistil defends Ningyo, leading Benny to tell her to focus on her own life. Seeking control, Cassie and Ningyo align with former Yun members Morton, Pistil, and Tony. Realizing his vulnerable position, Benny attempts to curry favor by working hard and providing food. However, Nikki is already considering him as a target, while Luxie tries to sway her toward voting for Morton.
At tribal council, Benny is voted out in a 5-3 vote against Morton, leaving Manny and Nikki in a precarious position.
Episode 9: "Health Crisis"
Despite being in the minority after the previous tribal council, Nikki recognizes Luxie as a reliable ally. Meanwhile, the alliance between Tony and Cassie begins to fray as they struggle with poor communication, resulting in a loss at the reward challenge. Luxie, Manny, Morton, and Nikki emerge victorious, winning the reward.
Pistil secures individual immunity in another elimination challenge, solidifying her spot in the final seven. Back at camp, Tony's health deteriorates, likely due to consuming something that didn't agree with him. Ningyo attempts to care for him, while Manny and Pistil bond over shared perspectives as the only Grass-type Pokémon in the game.
Recognizing the growing rift with Tony, Cassie makes a strategic move, leaving their majority alliance to form a new one with the outcast Manny and Nikki. At Manny's request, Pistil is brought into this emerging alliance, placing her in both quartets. Despite Ningyo's efforts to assist Tony, he collapses from exhaustion and is medically evacuated from the game, requiring immediate medical attention. The episode concludes with Morton, visibly emotional, as Tony exits the game.
Episode 10: "Feud Over Fruits"
Tony's departure leaves a profound impact on the tribe dynamics. Morton, now without his closest ally, also sees his once-majority alliance reduced to just three players. A new majority alliance forms with Cassie, Manny, Nikki, and Pistil, who has been skillfully playing both sides. Luxie adopts a one-on-one strategy, building strong connections with both Ningyo and Nikki.
Morton manages to win a reward and shares the prize—an overnight trip to the Silver Trench Temple—with his allies Ningyo and Pistil. The following day, Pistil secures individual immunity in a throwing stars challenge. Back at camp, tensions rise between former allies Manny and Luxie during a dispute over a berry tree. The disagreement quickly escalates from a discussion about food to a heated argument about the game and personal matters.
In the aftermath, Nikki rallies his allies to target Morton, now vulnerable without Tony. Ningyo, however, aims to vote out Nikki, viewing him as a threat to Luxie's attention. Pistil sees an opportunity to eliminate Luxie but struggles to sway her allies, who are more inclined towards Morton and Nikki. Despite apparent divisions within the tribe, Morton is unanimously voted out in a 6-1 vote against Nikki, becoming the fourth member of the jury.
Episode 11: "Love, Loyalty, and Lies"
Back at camp, Cassie and Manny's relationship continues to flourish, with their bond growing stronger every day. The players receive a special visit from their loved ones in a reward challenge. Blindfolded players and their blindfolded loved ones navigate a maze, calling out to each other to reunite in the center. Nikki wins immunity with her younger sister Maya, the Charcadet. Nikki shares the reward with Luxie and Pistil, resulting in a boat trip, a feast with loved ones, an overnight stay at camp, and emotional phone calls home.
The next day, Pistil secures another immunity, solidifying her spot in the final five. Back at camp, a disagreement arises between Cassie and Manny regarding Nikki's choice to invite Luxie instead of one of them to the reward challenge. Manny becomes suspicious, thinking Nikki is not aligned with them, while Cassie believes it was part of Nikki's strategic plan. Meanwhile, Ningyo attempts to rally support against Nikki, driven by personal dislike. The stress of her mission wears her out, but she remains determined.
Aware that Luxie won't vote against Nikki, Ningyo convinces Luxie to target Cassie. Luxie does the same with Nikki, while Ningyo discreetly enlists Pistil's help to sway others against Nikki. At tribal council, a tie vote emerges between Nikki and Cassie in a 3-3 split. Ningyo voted in Cassie to keep her deal with Luxie, but at the revote she had an excuse to flip to avoid a deadlock and then Nikki is voted out in a 3-1, becoming the 5th member of the jury.
Episode 12: "Idol Dilemma"
With Nikki gone, Luxie and Cassie find themselves as the only players in camp with a mutual dislike for each other, knowing that one of them might be the next to go. The following day, Pistil continues her dominance by winning a reward, further solidifying her reputation as the season's challenge beast. She shares the reward with Cassie and Ningyo, enjoying an overnight trip with traditional local meals. However, Cassie emerges victorious in the immunity challenge, securing her spot in the final four and adding to Luxie's displeasure.
Back at camp, Manny advocates for targeting Luxie, expressing his preference for Ningyo despite their current lack of alliance. Ningyo, torn between Luxie and Pistil, both of whom she considers allies, also likes Manny and wants to keep him in the game. Suspicious that Pistil may be plotting against her, Ningyo contemplates using her idol to protect herself.
At tribal council, faced with the last opportunity to use her idol, Ningyo grapples with doubt but ultimately decides to play it for herself. When the votes are revealed, none are cast for Ningyo. Instead, Luxie receives three votes and is voted out in a 3-2 decision against Pistil, becoming the sixth member of the jury.
Season Finale Intro:
As That Pokémon Survivor: Silver Trench hurtles toward its gripping conclusion, only four survivors remain on the desolate island, each weaving a unique narrative that has defined their journey. Cassie, with her strategic acumen and calculated decisions, stands as a formidable force. Manny's affable nature and solid alliances have secured him a coveted spot in the final four, showcasing his adept social gameplay. Ningyo, having played a strategic yet subtle game, faces the final chapter with her once-secret idol already in the rearview mirror. Armed with the experience of her journey, Ningyo holds the potential to shift dynamics in her favor. Pistil, defying the odds, emerges as a challenge powerhouse, showcasing resilience and adaptability. As the last remaining Yun member, Pistil introduces an element of unpredictability. The final chapter unfolds with the survivors ready to face last challenges and the critical scrutiny of the jury. Alliances will be tested, strategies laid bare, and the ultimate Survivor is poised to emerge from the depths of the Silver Trench. The stage is set for a riveting conclusion to an unforgettable season.
Season Finale:
The remaining castaways are confronted with one last reward challenge. In a grueling test of skill, Cassie emerges victorious, choosing to share the spoils of pizza, beer, brownies, and soft drinks with Pistil and Manny. Ningyo remains alone at camp, contemplating her next moves. The following day unfolds with the final immunity challenge, requiring contestants to balance porcelain dishes on a precarious arm. Cassie's strategic prowess shines as she clinches immunity.
Back at camp, Manny and Ningyo reaffirm their commitment to reach the end together, though the challenges ahead loom large. Cassie, despite her fondness for Ningyo, eyes her as the most expendable. Simultaneously, Manny endeavors to sway the group by highlighting Pistil's threat level with her underdog story and challenge victories. With limited options, Pistil identifies Manny as the primary target, given their tenuous connection. Conversations unfold with Pistil, Ningyo, and Manny, each attempting to secure their path to the final three.
At tribal council, initial votes split as expected, but a sudden twist emerges with a vote for Pistil, leaving her shocked. Ultimately, Pistil becomes the 12th person voted out, and the 7th member of the jury, in an unforeseen blindside. The final vote tally: 2 for Pistil, 1 for Manny, and 1 for Ningyo. With this unexpected turn, Manny and Ningyo deviate from their alliances, paving the way for an unpredictable endgame in the Silver Trench.
Final tribal council:
The sun dipped below the horizon as the final three faced the scrutinizing jury. Cassie, the strategic maestro, attempted to articulate her pivotal moves. Manny, relying on social finesse, emphasized the authentic bonds he had woven. Ningyo, the subtle strategist, defended her understated gameplay.
The jury's questions were incisive. Morton expressed his indecision until Manny's compelling speech appeared to sway his vote. Pistil challenged Cassie to pinpoint the standout move of her game, while Luxie, thanking Ningyo for their friendship, delved into the emotional nuances of Cassie and Manny's relationships.
Nikki focused on Manny's social prowess, leaving Cassie and Ningyo to clarify their social games. Tony sought the most significant moves from Cassie and Manny. Throughout, Ningyo struggled to distinguish herself, and the jury seemed skeptical.
As the votes were cast, a palpable anticipation hung in the air. The reunion show promised the resolution to an unpredictable season, leaving fans eager for the revelation of the winner of That Pokémon Survivor: Silver Trench.
Reunion:
As the final votes were tallied, Manny emerged as the Sole Survivor of Silver Trench, his social finesse and compelling final speech winning over the jury. The reunion show unfolded with surprises, as the second-voted-out Marcy was crowned Fan Favorite, resonating with the audience despite her early exit.
The production recognized the strategic prowess of the finalists. Manny secured the third-place spot, showcasing his impeccable social game. Ningyo, with her subtle and strategic maneuvers, clinched the second-place position. Cassie, the rational strategist, claimed the title of Most Strategic Player of the Season.
With the season's closure, the production teased the next adventure: That Pokémon Survivor - Marvelous Sea. Ten returning players would face off against ten superfans, promising yet another thrilling chapter in the Survivor saga.
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If you've read until here, please do not forget to place your thoughts and comments about the season or any further feedback for improving the series :)
See you next season!
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That Pokémon Survivor seasons list:
S01 - Tiny Woods
S02 - Thunderwave Cave
S03 - Sinister Woods
s04 - Silent Chasm
s05 - Lapis Cave
s06 - All-Stars: Mt. Blaze
s07 - Frosty Forest
s08 - Mt. Freeze
s09 - Sky Tower
s10 - Joyous Tower
s11 - Great Canyon
s12 - Silver Trench
Voting History
PS: Past seasons' links were updated to Reddit links, inspired by the amazing DK series ofu/dksurvivor :)
submitted by somewell to BrantSteele [link] [comments]
Welcome to "That Pokémon Survivor: Silver Trench" 🌊🌌, where Pokémon from all corners of the Pokémon world dive into the mysterious depths of the Silver Trench! In this aquatic adventure, they'll face the unexplored ocean depths, form alliances, and confront unforeseen challenges as they vie for the prestigious title of Sole Survivor! Amidst the swirling currents and hidden mysteries of the Silver Trench, which Pokémon will demonstrate their resilience and emerge victorious in the ultimate battle for supremacy? 🌌🌊
Watch the season here!
I hope you enjoy it!You can read the summary I made or just make your assumptions :D
Please comment with your thoughts and the most liked players. Did we have a good winner or someone was robbed? Who should return?
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Cast:
Xing Tribe:Ashton, the Sirfetch'd: Raised in luxury by the wealthy, Ashton is accustomed to a pampered life. Determined to save his owner's mansion from being sold, he plans to use the Survivor prize money to solve the problem, even if the rough conditions of the game are positively dreadful for him. Submitted by u/UltDragon.
Benny, the Corphish: Hailing from a shady neighborhood, Benny joined a gang to survive, but now seeks a fresh start. Hoping to leave his troubled past behind, he aspires to use the winnings from Survivor to carve out a better life for himself. Submitted by u/UltDragon.
Casey, the Nickit: Known for her impulsive and rash decision-making, Casey, who prefers the name "Cassie," is a transgender Pokémon. Her bestest friend Luca is the only one aware of this fact, as she navigates the game with her unique approach. Submitted by u/Hi-Shinx. (I forgot to change her preferred name in the simulator, but i remembered on the writing)
Luxie, the Girafarig: Enduring bullying for her distinctive appearance with two faces, Luxie developed a self-reliant attitude. She harbors a disregard for others, using them as pawns to further her own agenda. Convinced of her ability to outmaneuver everyone, Luxie sees Survivor as the perfect arena to showcase her cunning. Submitted by u/Yellower_.
Manny, the Venusaur: Manipulative and cunning, Manny employs his intelligence to talk down to others and manipulate them for strategic advantage. His journey in Survivor is marked by a shrewd mindset and a willingness to use others to propel himself further in the game. Submitted by u/IdkWhatToDoHere-.
Marcy, the Meltan: Living a secluded life with fellow Meltan, Marcy seeks to break free from her insular world. Eager to interact with non-Meltan and experience a broader social landscape, she joins Survivor with the hope of overcoming her communication barriers and connecting with others. Submitted by u/TEARSOFDESPAIR.
Nikki, the Ceruledge: A self-proclaimed lone wolf, Nikki revels in her independence and prides herself on being a formidable fighter. Having won battles against 100 Pokémon using only her hands, she approaches Survivor with a relentless determination, ready to fire back fivefold at anyone attempting to cross her. Submitted by u/FrieNads.
Ningyo, the Primarina: Highly regarded by others, Ningyo hides a hidden ability – the knack for betraying allies while excelling in challenges. However, her Achilles' heel lies in low stamina, potentially serving as a long-term hindrance in the game. Submitted by u/NastyShip102.
Yun Tribe:
Christy, the Corsola: An attentive and loving Corsola, Christy aims to be a beacon of support for others, maintaining a friendly and optimistic demeanor. Dedicated to being a positive force even in challenging situations, she aspires to be the bright spot in the tribe's journey through Survivor. Submitted by u/TheRegalOneGen.
Fiducia, the Solgaleo: Firmly believing in the power of loyalty as the ultimate weapon, Fiducia carries strength that cannot be ignored. With an unwavering commitment to this principle, he navigates the complexities of Survivor, viewing loyalty as both a shield and a sword. Submitted by u/NastyShip102.
Jacob, the Swalot: Hailing from Hoenn's marshy terrains, Jacob, the Swalot, combines intelligence with astuteness. Masterfully utilizing toxic abilities in battles, he is reclusive and antisocial, preferring solitary exploration over social interactions with other Pokémon. Submitted by u/xXiDamXx.
LJ, the Lucario: A well-known Pokémon famed for starring in action movies, LJ grapples with the downsides of popularity. Seeking to win Survivor money for an early retirement and to escape the drawbacks of his fanbase, he hopes to conclude his career on a high note. Submitted by u/IdkWhatToDoHere-.
Luca, the Linoone: Embracing her identity as an idiotic and ditzy Pokémon, Luca pays little heed to perceptions of her being slow. Unfazed by societal expectations, she carries herself with an air of carefree nonchalance. Submitted by u/Hi-Shinx.
Morton, the Cetitan: Applying to Survivor out of sheer boredom, Morton is an enigma who joined the show without fully understanding its dynamics. Adhering to his authentic self, he navigates the challenges with the hope that being genuine will lead him to victory. Submitted by u/FrieNads.
Pistil, the Petilil: Hailing from a family with a protective streak due to his weak stature, Pistil strives to prove his independence and capability. Working tirelessly on the family farm, he aims to demonstrate his strength on Survivor, dispelling any doubts about his abilities. Submitted by u/Yellower_.
Tony, the Iron Jugulis: Unaware of his mother's robotic origins (Magearna), Tony aspires to emulate his father's strength, a formidable Hydreigon. Seeking to unravel the mystery of his own robotic nature, he joins Survivor with the hope that appearing on TV will bring him closer to meeting his mother. Submitted by u/TEARSOFDESPAIR.
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Season summary
Episode 1: "Temple Tensions"
The 16 castaways were captivated as they arrived at the Silver Trench, the allure of a submerged temple pulling them in. Fiducia observed with a quiet intensity, recognizing the potential for alliances amidst the tribal dynamics. Meanwhile, Luca playfully explored the surroundings, seemingly oblivious to the historical significance of the temple. Gathered around the submerged structure, Luxie couldn't conceal her disdain; the carvings held no meaning for her, viewing the visit as an unnecessary distraction. Alongside her, Manny, the cunning Venusaur, assessed strategic possibilities with a sly smile. Marcy approached the temple with a metallic gleam, curiosity, and trepidation in her eyes. Unaccustomed to vast expanses, she marveled at the intricate carvings on the walls.
In the immunity challenge, Xing triumphed, securing immunity and a flint for fire. Back at camp, Luxie and Marcy's differing perspectives sparked a small altercation, with Ningyo siding with Marcy. On the strategic front, Luxie and Manny initiated an alliance with Ashton and Nikki, aiming to seize control. In Yun, Christy formed bonds with Pistil and Morton, securing an alliance with the powerful Fiducia. As the tribe navigated the social game, Tony observed from the sidelines, recognizing the simplicity of the first Tribal Council vote. Luca became the target due to perceived slowness, leading him to attempt to shift the vote onto Morton. However, Luca's plans crumbled at the Tribal Council, resulting in a 7-1 vote against him.
Episode 2: "Hidden Bonds, Exposed Truths"
Both tribes struggled to keep warm in the damp. Yun won rewards—fishing gear and a boat—and kidnapped Marcy, who seized an opportunity to give Tony a hidden immunity idol clue. Their futile search led to a massive fight, but they reconciled, forming an unexpected alliance as Marcy aided him in the idol quest. Yun secured immunity, leaving Xing vulnerable.
At Xing, minor disagreements and shifting alliances unfolded. Cassie and Nikki disagreed on performance, while Ningyo warned Luxie about Marcy's cross-tribal ties. Ashton disagreed with Ningyon, dismissing Marcy as too dumb. Manny decided to shift his game, aligning with Cassie and Ningyo. On deciding on who to vote, Luxie threw Marcy under the bus, suggesting she was plotting with the other tribe. Marcy, oblivious, believed Ningyo was the target. However, Ningyo rallied allies, suggesting her to vote for Benny instead.
At Yun, Christy and Tony clashed over suspicions about the idol. Meanwhile Jacob is able to make fire for the tribe, making everyone happy. Fiducia and Christy gets distant these days and they realize their duo is not a thing anymore. Seeking help to find the idol, Tony formed an unexpected trio with Jacob and LJ. The episode ends with Xing's tribal council resulted in a unanimous 7-1 vote to eliminate Marcy, revealing Survivor's unforgiving nature.
Episode 3: "Shifting Sands of Allegiance"
After Marcy's departure, Ningyo accidentally discovers Xing's hidden immunity idol while fetching water in the morning. Simultaneously, in the Yun tribe, Jacob successfully locates the idol using Tony's clue and decides to keep it a secret for now. Yun secures a reward, kidnapping Nikki, who unwittingly hands Jacob another idol clue, unaware he already possesses the idol. Meanwhile, Tony and Pistil engage in a lighthearted discussion about privileges, masking Tony's internal meltdown over his idol search.
Pistil, sensing discord between Fiducia and Christy, takes the initiative to reunite them, forming a trio. Xing, determined to rebound, clinches immunity. In Yun, LJ experiences a major meltdown, feeling responsible for the tribe's loss and succumbing to jealousy over the tribe praising Tony. Fiducia seeks more control, aligning with Jacob, who suggests targeting Christy, Tony's perceived antagonist. Meanwhile, Tony aims to eliminate Fiducia, viewing her as an authoritative figure, while Fiducia targets Morton. Jacob successfully convinces LJ and Tony to vote for Christy, but in last minute Fiducia induces him to vote on Morton.
At tribal council, a shocking blindside unfolds as LJ is voted out in an epic 3-2-2 against Christy and Morton. Jacob becoming quite frustrated that he changed his vote from Christy, unaware Morton did the same.
Episode 4: "Idol Gambit"
Xing tribe stands divided into two trios, with Benny caught in the middle, while Yun is dominated by the potent alliance of Jacob and Tony, overshadowing other dynamics led by Fiducia. Yun's reward win leads to kidnapping Ashton, who unknowingly hands Jacob an idol clue, oblivious to Jacob already possessing the idol. Ashton's attempt to connect with Yun falls flat due to a mismatch in personalities. Xing secures immunity once again, placing Yun in a vulnerable position for tribal council.
Back at the Yun camp, Manny and Ningyo engage in a deep conversation about the game, envisioning a thrilling finale where they face off against each other. Meanwhile, Fiducia faces a major meltdown after their defeat, torn over the impending vote. Tony, discontent with Fiducia's motherly role in the tribe, targets her, especially since Fiducia blames him for the tribe's losses. However, Jacob has his sights set on Morton, viewing him as a potential liability in future challenges.
As tribal council approaches, tensions rise. Jacob tries to convince Tony to vote for Morton, and they both agree to target Christy. Meanwhile, Fiducia tells Jacob she will vote as he wants, despite her other alliance going on Tony. At tribal council, sensing deception, Jacob plays his idol, unsure whom to protect, ultimately using it for Tony. The first two votes against Tony are nullified, leaving uncertainty. The votes unfold—one for Fiducia, one for Christy, one for Morton—and the suspenseful final vote is cast for Christy. Another epic blindside reshapes the dynamics of Yun tribe.
Episode 5: "Tribe Transitions"
After a shocking tribal council, each tribe is tasked with selecting the two strongest players from the opposing tribe to switch sides. Xing chooses Jacob and Tony from Yun, placing them at the bottom of the new tribe but with a reliable alliance. Yun selects Benny and Nikki from Xing, leaving them in a minority without the support of their former tribe. Despite the shift, Yun secures immunity.
Back at the Xing camp, tensions rise as Cassie and Tony engage in a major fight, blaming each other for the challenge performance. Jacob attempts to mediate, emphasizing the need to play a low profile, but Tony disagrees. Feeling unsupported by her alliance, Cassie decides to play alone. Jacob identifies Ashton as potentially on the outs and rallies against him, while Ashton advocates for voting out Cassie, whom he sees as responsible for the challenge loss. Manny and Ningyo align with Jacob's strategy to target Ashton, fearing Cassie's potential elimination.
At Yun, Fiducia and Pistil dissolve their alliance due to diverging game strategies. Yun's tribal council sees Jacob's plan unfold successfully, resulting in Ashton's elimination in a 5-2 vote against Cassie.
Episode 6: "Teahouse Tensions"
Yun secures a reward, earning a teahouse visit with a bath and shower. They also kidnap Ningyo, who receives a clue to the hidden immunity idol and passes it to Pistil, sharing the story of Jacob's idol play. Despite this strategic exchange, Fiducia and Nikki clash over camp roles, escalating into a major fight. However, Yun rallies to win immunity.
At Xing, Cassie and Luxie engage in a small dispute about Luxie's previous vote against Cassie. Manny and Ningyo decide to play independently, but Luxie suggests forming an alliance Ningyo. Despite her conflict with Luxie, Cassie believes Tony is the best vote. However, Ningyo and Jacob target each other, while Tony sees Manny as the ideal vote. Fearing Ningyo's access to valuable information, Jacob and Tony decide to vote her out. Meanwhile, Ningyo discusses Jacob and Tony's powerful alliance with Luxie, highlighting their lack of an idol as a potential vulnerability. At tribal council, Jacob is blindsided in a 4-2 vote against Ningyo, marking the end of his game disrupted by the swap.
Episode 7: "Merge Melodies"
The much-anticipated merge finally arrives, forming the Yin tribe, which will reside at the Xing camp due to their majority. The merged tribe enjoys an extravagant feast accompanied by fireworks, dancers, contortionists, and acrobats. Despite the festivities, many castaways keep their focus on the game and the new individual dynamics. Tony mourns the loss of his ally Jacob but finds solace in deepening his connection with Morton.
At the Immunity challenge, the merged tribe competes by answering questions about the merge feast and performance. Incorrect answers result in automatic elimination, and Pistil emerges victorious with individual immunity. Back at camp, Morton and Tony strengthen their bond, realizing they need each other more than ever. Ningyo and Pistil, happy to reunite, plan to work together.
Tony, anticipating potential animosity toward Yun members, suggests targeting Fiducia as the leader of the old Yun tribe. Cassie disagrees, advocating for Benny's elimination, given his outsider status. Benny, targeting Morton, reflects on their lack of connection during the merge feast. Fiducia, discovering Tony's attempt to throw her name, retaliates by targeting him. Luxie, Nikki, and Ningyo decide to vote out Fiducia.
At tribal council, chaos ensues as names are thrown around. A close vote unfolds between Benny, Morton, and Fiducia, with three votes for each. The last vote is read, and in a narrow 4-3-3 vote, Fiducia becomes the first member of the jury in another unpredictable tribal council.
Episode 8: "Village Vendettas"
The game intensifies with two clear duos emerging: Morton and Tony, and Ningyo and Luxie. The reward challenge involves a selection chain, resulting in two teams of four and one player left out. Cassie, the odd one out, sits out. The challenge requires members to try and sink the opposing team's boat in a pool, with Nikki, Benny, Morton, and Pistil emerging victorious. They win a village trip for an authentic local meal and a clue to the Hidden Immunity Idol.
In a resistance challenge, Nikki secures individual immunity. Back at camp, chaos ensues as Benny stirs trouble, first engaging in a major fight with Ningyo over shady comments. Pistil defends Ningyo, leading Benny to tell her to focus on her own life. Seeking control, Cassie and Ningyo align with former Yun members Morton, Pistil, and Tony. Realizing his vulnerable position, Benny attempts to curry favor by working hard and providing food. However, Nikki is already considering him as a target, while Luxie tries to sway her toward voting for Morton.
At tribal council, Benny is voted out in a 5-3 vote against Morton, leaving Manny and Nikki in a precarious position.
Episode 9: "Health Crisis"
Despite being in the minority after the previous tribal council, Nikki recognizes Luxie as a reliable ally. Meanwhile, the alliance between Tony and Cassie begins to fray as they struggle with poor communication, resulting in a loss at the reward challenge. Luxie, Manny, Morton, and Nikki emerge victorious, winning the reward.
Pistil secures individual immunity in another elimination challenge, solidifying her spot in the final seven. Back at camp, Tony's health deteriorates, likely due to consuming something that didn't agree with him. Ningyo attempts to care for him, while Manny and Pistil bond over shared perspectives as the only Grass-type Pokémon in the game.
Recognizing the growing rift with Tony, Cassie makes a strategic move, leaving their majority alliance to form a new one with the outcast Manny and Nikki. At Manny's request, Pistil is brought into this emerging alliance, placing her in both quartets. Despite Ningyo's efforts to assist Tony, he collapses from exhaustion and is medically evacuated from the game, requiring immediate medical attention. The episode concludes with Morton, visibly emotional, as Tony exits the game.
Episode 10: "Feud Over Fruits"
Tony's departure leaves a profound impact on the tribe dynamics. Morton, now without his closest ally, also sees his once-majority alliance reduced to just three players. A new majority alliance forms with Cassie, Manny, Nikki, and Pistil, who has been skillfully playing both sides. Luxie adopts a one-on-one strategy, building strong connections with both Ningyo and Nikki.
Morton manages to win a reward and shares the prize—an overnight trip to the Silver Trench Temple—with his allies Ningyo and Pistil. The following day, Pistil secures individual immunity in a throwing stars challenge. Back at camp, tensions rise between former allies Manny and Luxie during a dispute over a berry tree. The disagreement quickly escalates from a discussion about food to a heated argument about the game and personal matters.
In the aftermath, Nikki rallies his allies to target Morton, now vulnerable without Tony. Ningyo, however, aims to vote out Nikki, viewing him as a threat to Luxie's attention. Pistil sees an opportunity to eliminate Luxie but struggles to sway her allies, who are more inclined towards Morton and Nikki. Despite apparent divisions within the tribe, Morton is unanimously voted out in a 6-1 vote against Nikki, becoming the fourth member of the jury.
Episode 11: "Love, Loyalty, and Lies"
Back at camp, Cassie and Manny's relationship continues to flourish, with their bond growing stronger every day. The players receive a special visit from their loved ones in a reward challenge. Blindfolded players and their blindfolded loved ones navigate a maze, calling out to each other to reunite in the center. Nikki wins immunity with her younger sister Maya, the Charcadet. Nikki shares the reward with Luxie and Pistil, resulting in a boat trip, a feast with loved ones, an overnight stay at camp, and emotional phone calls home.
The next day, Pistil secures another immunity, solidifying her spot in the final five. Back at camp, a disagreement arises between Cassie and Manny regarding Nikki's choice to invite Luxie instead of one of them to the reward challenge. Manny becomes suspicious, thinking Nikki is not aligned with them, while Cassie believes it was part of Nikki's strategic plan. Meanwhile, Ningyo attempts to rally support against Nikki, driven by personal dislike. The stress of her mission wears her out, but she remains determined.
Aware that Luxie won't vote against Nikki, Ningyo convinces Luxie to target Cassie. Luxie does the same with Nikki, while Ningyo discreetly enlists Pistil's help to sway others against Nikki. At tribal council, a tie vote emerges between Nikki and Cassie in a 3-3 split. Ningyo voted in Cassie to keep her deal with Luxie, but at the revote she had an excuse to flip to avoid a deadlock and then Nikki is voted out in a 3-1, becoming the 5th member of the jury.
Episode 12: "Idol Dilemma"
With Nikki gone, Luxie and Cassie find themselves as the only players in camp with a mutual dislike for each other, knowing that one of them might be the next to go. The following day, Pistil continues her dominance by winning a reward, further solidifying her reputation as the season's challenge beast. She shares the reward with Cassie and Ningyo, enjoying an overnight trip with traditional local meals. However, Cassie emerges victorious in the immunity challenge, securing her spot in the final four and adding to Luxie's displeasure.
Back at camp, Manny advocates for targeting Luxie, expressing his preference for Ningyo despite their current lack of alliance. Ningyo, torn between Luxie and Pistil, both of whom she considers allies, also likes Manny and wants to keep him in the game. Suspicious that Pistil may be plotting against her, Ningyo contemplates using her idol to protect herself.
At tribal council, faced with the last opportunity to use her idol, Ningyo grapples with doubt but ultimately decides to play it for herself. When the votes are revealed, none are cast for Ningyo. Instead, Luxie receives three votes and is voted out in a 3-2 decision against Pistil, becoming the sixth member of the jury.
Season Finale Intro:
As That Pokémon Survivor: Silver Trench hurtles toward its gripping conclusion, only four survivors remain on the desolate island, each weaving a unique narrative that has defined their journey. Cassie, with her strategic acumen and calculated decisions, stands as a formidable force. Manny's affable nature and solid alliances have secured him a coveted spot in the final four, showcasing his adept social gameplay. Ningyo, having played a strategic yet subtle game, faces the final chapter with her once-secret idol already in the rearview mirror. Armed with the experience of her journey, Ningyo holds the potential to shift dynamics in her favor. Pistil, defying the odds, emerges as a challenge powerhouse, showcasing resilience and adaptability. As the last remaining Yun member, Pistil introduces an element of unpredictability. The final chapter unfolds with the survivors ready to face last challenges and the critical scrutiny of the jury. Alliances will be tested, strategies laid bare, and the ultimate Survivor is poised to emerge from the depths of the Silver Trench. The stage is set for a riveting conclusion to an unforgettable season.
Season Finale:
The remaining castaways are confronted with one last reward challenge. In a grueling test of skill, Cassie emerges victorious, choosing to share the spoils of pizza, beer, brownies, and soft drinks with Pistil and Manny. Ningyo remains alone at camp, contemplating her next moves. The following day unfolds with the final immunity challenge, requiring contestants to balance porcelain dishes on a precarious arm. Cassie's strategic prowess shines as she clinches immunity.
Back at camp, Manny and Ningyo reaffirm their commitment to reach the end together, though the challenges ahead loom large. Cassie, despite her fondness for Ningyo, eyes her as the most expendable. Simultaneously, Manny endeavors to sway the group by highlighting Pistil's threat level with her underdog story and challenge victories. With limited options, Pistil identifies Manny as the primary target, given their tenuous connection. Conversations unfold with Pistil, Ningyo, and Manny, each attempting to secure their path to the final three.
At tribal council, initial votes split as expected, but a sudden twist emerges with a vote for Pistil, leaving her shocked. Ultimately, Pistil becomes the 12th person voted out, and the 7th member of the jury, in an unforeseen blindside. The final vote tally: 2 for Pistil, 1 for Manny, and 1 for Ningyo. With this unexpected turn, Manny and Ningyo deviate from their alliances, paving the way for an unpredictable endgame in the Silver Trench.
Final tribal council:
The sun dipped below the horizon as the final three faced the scrutinizing jury. Cassie, the strategic maestro, attempted to articulate her pivotal moves. Manny, relying on social finesse, emphasized the authentic bonds he had woven. Ningyo, the subtle strategist, defended her understated gameplay.
The jury's questions were incisive. Morton expressed his indecision until Manny's compelling speech appeared to sway his vote. Pistil challenged Cassie to pinpoint the standout move of her game, while Luxie, thanking Ningyo for their friendship, delved into the emotional nuances of Cassie and Manny's relationships.
Nikki focused on Manny's social prowess, leaving Cassie and Ningyo to clarify their social games. Tony sought the most significant moves from Cassie and Manny. Throughout, Ningyo struggled to distinguish herself, and the jury seemed skeptical.
As the votes were cast, a palpable anticipation hung in the air. The reunion show promised the resolution to an unpredictable season, leaving fans eager for the revelation of the winner of That Pokémon Survivor: Silver Trench.
Reunion:
As the final votes were tallied, Manny emerged as the Sole Survivor of Silver Trench, his social finesse and compelling final speech winning over the jury. The reunion show unfolded with surprises, as the second-voted-out Marcy was crowned Fan Favorite, resonating with the audience despite her early exit.
The production recognized the strategic prowess of the finalists. Manny secured the third-place spot, showcasing his impeccable social game. Ningyo, with her subtle and strategic maneuvers, clinched the second-place position. Cassie, the rational strategist, claimed the title of Most Strategic Player of the Season.
With the season's closure, the production teased the next adventure: That Pokémon Survivor - Marvelous Sea. Ten returning players would face off against ten superfans, promising yet another thrilling chapter in the Survivor saga.
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If you've read until here, please do not forget to place your thoughts and comments about the season or any further feedback for improving the series :)
See you next season!
--
That Pokémon Survivor seasons list:
S01 - Tiny Woods
S02 - Thunderwave Cave
S03 - Sinister Woods
s04 - Silent Chasm
s05 - Lapis Cave
s06 - All-Stars: Mt. Blaze
s07 - Frosty Forest
s08 - Mt. Freeze
s09 - Sky Tower
s10 - Joyous Tower
s11 - Great Canyon
s12 - Silver Trench
Voting History
PS: Past seasons' links were updated to Reddit links, inspired by the amazing DK series ofu/dksurvivor :)
2023.01.19 13:35 YakiTapioca A Recipe for Disaster (Part 9) - A Fanfic of Nature of Predators
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I've been having the opposite problem that I normally have recently. It turned out that this chapter was running like 5 pages over what I normally do, so I had to split them up. Unfortunately, the halfway point was right in the middle of a conversation, so I did my best to make it pause naturally between chapters.
Alright, looks like it's time to see where the story takes Sylvan and Jeela, or more acurately, where Jeela takes the story. As always, I hope you enjoy reading!
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Note: This is a Fanfic of the Nature of Predators\ series by u/Spacepaladin15. Please support the original content.
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Memory Transcript Subject: Sylvan, Venlil Civilian
Date: [Standardized Human Time]: November 2, 2136
The Province of Ebson, the landmass in which Sweetwater and a number of other cities and towns resided, was completely and utterly controlled by a branch of Venlil Prime’s government, formally referred to as the “Magistrate.” While the Provinces were by no means separated as much as any of Terra’s “nations” with their separate cultures and languages, in order to keep peace and make sure the herd was safe, these governmental subsections existed to help watch over the entirety of the planet at once.
In layman’s terms, Governor Tarva had complete control over the entire planet’s decisions. Then, Venlil Prime was split into many Provinces as a means to keep order, which were each watched over by that Province’s “Magistratta.” Each Province contained many Districts, which were individual cities or groups of towns and villages, that were looked over by that District's “High Magister,” who in turn assigned a number of duties to the Magisters below them.
Because the surrounding area was first settled when explorers found the historic “Sweetwater Lake,” the town and subsequent District within the Ebson Province was named after it. I remembered all the times I got confused in school trying to wrap my head around there being a Sweetwater Lake, Sweetwater Town, and Sweetwater District, but it wasn’t the most confusing naming scheme I had heard of, especially when compared to some of the names Terra gave their cities. But it was annoying whenever somebody referred to the area as just "Sweetwater" and you had to guess which one of the three they were talking about.
Regardless, because of Sweetwater Town being the main town within the area, a number of the District's Magisters decided to live here. They each had relatively complete control of their respective duties. And while all of their decisions could ultimately be overturned by Sweetwater District's High Magister should they deem fit, without interference, the Magisters could pretty much do whatever they wanted. There were Magisters for Agriculture, Healthcare, Education… almost everything a society needed.
But one of the most important roles was of Law and Order… and I had just made a fool of myself in front of her.
Why did I try to turn her away!? Why didn’t I know who she was!? Why was I so rude to her!?
My heart raced as I placed the pasta and miso down in front of Jeela, who’s presence had invoked a feeling of fear in me that no Human nor Arxur could ever hope to achieve. Everything had to be perfect. The cutlery in front of her, the water in her glass, the napkins to her side, and especially the food! Someone of her power could have this restaurant and subsequent neighborhood torn down for even the slightest offense!
I mentally kicked myself repeatedly for my stupidity. If anything went wrong, she’d be able to do pretty much whatever she wanted to me and I’d have little to no say in the matter. She could shut me down for good, she could have me imprisoned, she could even….. deport Kenta. For some reason, this was the possibility that hurt the most deeply. I couldn’t tell why, but the thought of being separated from Kenta and having him go back to his now destroyed home twisted my heart to the point of breaking.
I won’t let that happen. I just need to not screw it up.
“Oh my. What an uncommon colouration!” she suddenly spoke up, looking at the food like she wanted to poke it with a stick. “I didn’t know what I was exactly expecting, but after that wonderful soup, I suppose it’s only natural you’d give me something extraordinary!”
This new meal, which Kenta called “Pasta,” was apparently another famous dish on Terra, many of which used the “Tomatoes” that we had been talking about earlier. I wouldn’t have guessed by the dry, crunchy looking snack that he had produced from his bag, but apparently after boiling them in water, they turned into incredibly soft bits of delight that were shaped like bite-sized hollow tubes. A thick plume of steam was constantly rising from it, showing off just how juicy and water filled they appeared, which was only added to by the equally hot stew that had been poured over the top like a kind of sauce. It was almost similar to the curry in a way, but instead of white and brown, it was blaringly yellow and red.
Too red…. While red foods, in the form of leaves and flowers and the like, were common enough, the idea of a red fruit was simply peculiar. Not that it was exactly impossible, as I had heard of a good couple of planets growing such things, but on Venlil Prime, the fruit would be seen as no less than an oddity. And as we all knew… oddities were a danger…
Even though there were many bits of green and white visibly cooked into it, there was no denying that it contained alien ingredients. I’d have to spin it into a believable story that even a Magister could believe.
It was too late to back out now. I had already promised Jeela a meal.
“Oh yes! It’s absolutely a strange colour! I know exactly what you’re thinking, and you’d be correct. The main ingredient for this dish is actually a red coloured fruit that’s….” I hesitated, trying to think of any kind of excuse that wouldn’t dig me too much further into my own grave. “From Valanar! Yes! And it’s very rare too! It’s actually a special import that we just received the other day.”
“All the way from Valanar, hm?” Jeela seemed skeptical, then picked up a utensil and dug it into the dish, the bits of boiled dough pushed around with a satisfying squish as the sauce moved in to fill the holes. “Valanar… The Krakotlian colony? The ones who are on an active, indefinite trade block with the Venlil?”
I had just thought of the first planet I could remember that had a very specific climate to make it believable enough for a strange plant to be able to grow there. I was not aware that it was in the Krakotl territories. I couldn’t exactly just let my bluff be called any more, though, and needed to double down.
“Y-yes, that’s the one!” I said, trying to maintain my cool.
“Oh darling, that’s… Very creative of you! You must have a great business sense to be able to make trade deals with Valanar despite the trade block!”
She… actually believed that…?
“You know,” she continued, “it never ceases to amaze me what kinds of fantastical things one can find out there in the great beyond. And ‘fantastical things’ you found! The smell of this sauce speaks for itself! I’m practically drooling just looking at it!” With a couple wags of her tail in a happy frenzy, she dug her utensil into the pasta and pulled out a sizable amount all at once. “But enough chit chat. I’d absolutely love to dive into whatever this thing is!”
This was perfect. If there was a possibility that she believed my story about the tomatoes, then there was a chance I could sneak a little good will in there too. The whole situation reminded me of the first time the Coin Counters sent Ginro, before I had any idea what an appeasable person he was. Except this time, it was a little more high stakes.
“It’s my pleasure to serve such an established member of the Ebson Province’s Magistrate,” I spoke cordially. “I’d like to formally thank you for your kindness.”
“Oh hun you don’t need to strain yourself like that,” she spoke back with a kind, motherly tone, not batting an eye as she pulled apart my poultry attempt at manners. “I’m just a quaint little Magister with nowhere else to go for lunch. Now why don’t you make yourself comfortable across from me here and try it with me?”
Kenta had prepared a second plate for me, and I brought it out with the intention of eating it later, but I didn’t dare think to eat within the vicinity of the powerful Venlil. All instincts were telling me to stay as far away from her as possible, afraid that even the slightest mistake could cost me everything.
“I-I believe it would be more polite if I-”
“Sit. I’m not going to say it again, hun.” This time, she was fierce, commanding, and my prey heart couldn’t help but follow their request for fear of my life. How was this Venlil so forceful? Bit by bit, every moment around her progressively broke my perception of what a Venlil should even be capable of. My theory about her Predator Disease was growing more believable by the moment.
“Of course ma’am…” I yipped back, immediately taking a seat across from her and mirroring her preparations to eat. Digging my own utensil into the pasta, I began to realize my perception of the food was beginning to change. With every second, it looked more and more appetizing to me, if not for the smell alone. It was strongly acidic like Kenta had said, and carried with it a mix of tangy kicks and the slightest bit of sweetness. The red sauce had a perfect mixture between watery and viscous, allowing it to hold its shape without dripping down between the dough, but still watery enough to flow and cover each piece seamlessly.
Time to see if the tomatoes aren’t actually poisonous.
The moment of truth came as we both reached up and tasted the pasta at the same time. Just the tube-shaped boiled dough alone would be enough to make me squeal in delight. It was both soft and chewy at the same time, collapsing perfectly inside my mouth and allowing me to bite into each piece without slowing down. It was still piping hot, instantly warming my body with its juicy form, the water held inside it easily still retaining much of the heat from being cooked. It felt like a sauna was building inside my body, like if I opened my mouth I might see a plume of steam rise out of me. But it didn’t hurt… In fact it was remarkably comforting.
I barely had time to appreciate the dough itself before the taste of the sauce hit me. I nearly choked in surprise as it filled my senses all at once. A wave of watery tanginess, bitterness, and sweetness hit me, switching between each taste in a constant flux so fast I couldn’t begin to describe which exact taste I was feeling in a single moment. It was like each aspect of the sauce was perfectly blended together, yet somehow differentiated at the same time, resulting in an unbelievably smooth taste that only made me crave more.
“This is absolutely divine!” Jeela hollered, coveting the plate of pasta as she tore into it in a way that was somehow both calm and collected, yet desperate for more. In between bites, she took deep sips of the miso at her side, drinking it like water on a hot day. “I can’t even begin to describe it! I thought the aroma was divine, but the taste is even more delightful! These little yellow bits are so delicate, yet so hardy! But the sauce is so rich, too! I can’t quite keep track of everything I’m tasting at once!”
For the first time since I first realized who she was, I could finally empathize with her. I didn’t know if it raised me up a peg or lowered her down, but I saw in her the same reactions to Kenta’s cooking that I had so far come to deeply enjoy. The love of good food was a trait that all Venlil, no… all species, could share! It made us all equal, all brothers and sisters living our lives in the harsh world, if only for a few seconds at a time. Perhaps this would be something that all peoples could bond over, some time in the distant future of a dream.
“So, tell me now, darling…” Jeela spoke up again, sneaking in bites of the pasta between breaths. “What exactly is the name of this mysterious red fruit you found on… Where was it again? Valanar?”
“A-ah… Its, uhh… Its name is…” I mumbled. Despite how much the pasta had made me relate to her, I still had to remember that this was not the time to lower my guard. She could like the pasta all she wanted, but if she found out about Kenta… I didn’t want to think about it.
She placed her elbows firm on the table, her massive size needing to bend down slightly before resting her head on top of her paws. “Don’t tell me… you forgot? Where does someone so tactful and knowledgeable about intragalactic, risky trade find the power to forget something like this?”
I needed to defend while thinking of something fast. “Ahahh, well… It’s not really like that! I can absolutely tell you the name of the fruit! They’re… they’re called… uhhh… Poisons!”
I had borrowed the word from Kenta. It apparently was used to describe plants that were dangerous to ingest, but I didn’t know if the term extended to anything else. The way he described it almost sounded close to the concept of ‘Fer’minash,’ which detailed how the accidental ingestion of certain heavy metals could horrifically clash with a person’s homeostasis, rendering them ill. The concept never applied to plants though, and I had to wonder what kind of hellscape Terra must be for Humans to have to worry about such a thing.
Still, the alien word was just silly-sounding enough to make for a fake name. I didn’t want Jeela’s “contacts” to have any more information about Kenta’s place of origin than they already had. Perhaps I shouldn’t have called the new dishes by their Terran names… But at the same time, it felt like a disgrace to the foods to call them by anything but what they were.
“‘Poisons,’ hm? Well, I must say… I certainly haven’t heard of any fruits by that name,” Jeela commented, keeping the same elevated, yet curious tone she had maintained throughout the conversation. “And… If I may ask as well, how exactly did you manage to come across this trade deal? While it isn’t illegal on Venlil Prime to break the Krakotl trade block, it is most certainly illegal in the Federation. I’ve got some rather strong cravings for some outside foods as well, so I’d absolutely love to be enlightened by your genius, darling.”
Another block in the road… How can I possibly explain that part to her? Maybe I can divert the focus?
This time, I was a little bit faster with my response. “Oh, well that’s not exactly my department. It’s just something that my cook has been working out for the last few months he’s been here. I can ask him later if you’d like.”
“Your cook…? The same one that cooked us this strange food?”
“The very same, yes!”
“The one you said was new?”
Uh oh.
“Uhh… that’s not what I-”
“You know, hun. I think it’s about time I met this cook of yours…” Jeela said with a completely emotionless tail, staying perfectly still like an unreadable statue. “After all, with all this amazing food they’ve prepared, it would be quite rude of me to not thank them personally.”
She moved to get up from the seat, and then began walking towards the kitchen door. She tread past me with a determined confidence, the unstoppable footsteps threatening to simply be around. Immediately, I got flashbacks to Ginro from the other day. If she so much as peaked into the kitchen, everything would be over.
“W-wait!” I yelled, and jumped up from my own seat to halt her in any way I could.
Running in front of her, I held out my arms in an attempt to stop her. She barely slowed down, the extremely soft fluff over her body barely brushing into my paws as Jeela stopped right before me. I didn’t know if it was a crime to touch someone of the Magister status, and cringed at the thought of her taking that as an offense. Still, I couldn’t let her take another step forward.
Jeela looked down at me and made a dismissive motion of her tail. “Oh? Any reason why I shouldn’t go back there, darling?”
“Y-yes! You can’t go back there becaussseee…..” I thought back to Ginro and how he fallen for my story about the skittish Venlil cook. It was just believable enough to work. I had to try. “He’s a Fainter! I’m the only one he’s comfortable around. If you go back there, you might scare him!”
“A Fainter, hmm?” Jeela grumbled, seeming even more unsatisfied with my answer. “So darling, let me get this straight. You’re a Venlil restaurant owner who hired a cook with the knowledge and capabilities to make highly illegal trades with a Krakotl colony along with the skills to prepare recipes so unfathomable that they completely destroy a person’s perception of taste. All the while, you have to keep them hidden in the kitchen because they're a Fainter, and would collapse at even the slightest scare.”
“That’s… correct,” I mumbled.
We were standing next to the wall, only a few meters away from the kitchen door around the corner. With a bit of curiosity, and without making a sound, Jeela reached over before slamming one of her paws into the wall, making a shockingly loud BANG sound that rang throughout the restaurant. For some reason, I doubted that Kenta could be capable of making such a noise. Not because Jeela was especially stronger than a Human, but simply because she seemed to lack the hesitation behind making such a jarring sound out of nowhere.
To my relief, Kenta seemed to pick up on the test from the other end of the wall, and recreated the same fake sound of falling over that he had done with Ginro. This time, I could imagine the Human carefully dropping the silver utensils into a metal pot, clattering to feign the actions of a fainting Venlil.
“Well, hun… If I’m being perfectly honest…” Jeela said, leaning down a bit closer and pushing her perfectly groomed and fuzzy coat further into my paws. “That makes perfect sense! It explains why you’re so nervous to talk about him, with how antisocial he seems to be. I understand many Fainters like to keep a low profile, so please know that I apologize for asking such personal questions. Please let him know that I deeply enjoyed his cooking.”
How did that story work a second time…? I’m starting to think that a Venlil’s empathy towards the weak is actually our downfall. Would other species believe me so easily? Would Humans?
“I-I’m glad you’re so understanding,” I responded with a sigh of relief, “Trust me when I say that going back there is a bad idea.”
“Of course, darling! Wouldn’t dream of it!” Like a heavenly sign that I might be making it out of the scenario alive, I saw Jeela’s tail start to wag in a friendly manner, like the imposing figure I had just barely managed to stop was sated for the time being. “Ah, but if you don’t mind… It would at least be nice to know your cook’s name. I want to know what kind of person could be responsible for such an immaculate meal so I can properly thank them.”
“Their… name?”
“Yes darling, I’d like to know what to call them by. Unless, of course… you managed to forget that too?”
“N-no! Their name is…”
I stumbled again. I couldn’t just tell her Kenta’s real name! It sounded too much like a Human name! No, he’d need an entirely different name if I even had a chance at convincing Jeela there wasn’t a giant… adorable… predator back there! Kenta… Kenta… Kenta…. It was actually funny, the name almost sounded like my cousin-
“Kahnta!” I yelled, completely mismatched with the volume I had had with the sentence it was supposedly a part of.
Jeela seemed happy with the answer, and turned to the side to repeat the new information loudly. “Ah, so I may call them Kahnta! I see whoever named them must have taken a historic route. Why, that is the name of one of the most accomplished Exterminators in all of Venlil history.”
Oh… Right, I forgot about that… Well that’s awkward.
“Yes! I see your keen eye never fails to make an acute observation,” I agreed, glad that she seemed to latch on to the name as realistic. Exterminator or not, if it was a believable, Venlil-sounding name, then I was happy. Plus, it didn’t seem like Kenta even knew what an Exterminator was, though I hoped he wouldn’t be too upset with me if he ever found out.
“Why thank you darling!” Jeela replied with an exhaustive, cheery tone. She turned and began to walk back towards the table. “Well, enough flattery. It seems like you have quite the situation in the kitchen you need to address. Meanwhile, I have the rest of my plate to tidy up!”
“Ah yes! The fainting! I should go check on him!” I began to make motions towards the kitchen, happy that Jeela was actually letting me go without even a single warning. It felt like I had been struggling to come up with excuses for eons, delving further and further into a web of lies of my own creation. To be entirely honest, it was exhausting, but I was glad it was finally about to be over. Kenta and I would have a good laugh about all of this when we closed later tonight.
“Oh, and before you go Sylvan, I have a quick request,” she said, stopping in her tracks and facing away from me. “While you’re in the kitchen, do you mind asking the Human back there to pour another bowl of that soup I love?”
I froze.
I suspected Kenta had as well. The moment the words left her mouth, the clang of a metal tool hitting the ground suddenly rang through the wall. Unlike how he had just faked it moments beforehand, this one sounded much more real.
“W-what…?” I mumbled.
A giggle echoed behind me, and I didn’t dare turn around to face it. My heart jumped, making me have the sudden urge to run away. But despite everything, my body knew that there was nowhere to run to.
The giggling stopped, and a fake inward breath of embarrassment was pulled in, “Whoops, guess that leaf’s been burned.”
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submitted by YakiTapioca to HFY [link] [comments]
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I've been having the opposite problem that I normally have recently. It turned out that this chapter was running like 5 pages over what I normally do, so I had to split them up. Unfortunately, the halfway point was right in the middle of a conversation, so I did my best to make it pause naturally between chapters.
Alright, looks like it's time to see where the story takes Sylvan and Jeela, or more acurately, where Jeela takes the story. As always, I hope you enjoy reading!
—————————
Note: This is a Fanfic of the Nature of Predators\ series by u/Spacepaladin15. Please support the original content.
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Memory Transcript Subject: Sylvan, Venlil Civilian
Date: [Standardized Human Time]: November 2, 2136
The Province of Ebson, the landmass in which Sweetwater and a number of other cities and towns resided, was completely and utterly controlled by a branch of Venlil Prime’s government, formally referred to as the “Magistrate.” While the Provinces were by no means separated as much as any of Terra’s “nations” with their separate cultures and languages, in order to keep peace and make sure the herd was safe, these governmental subsections existed to help watch over the entirety of the planet at once.
In layman’s terms, Governor Tarva had complete control over the entire planet’s decisions. Then, Venlil Prime was split into many Provinces as a means to keep order, which were each watched over by that Province’s “Magistratta.” Each Province contained many Districts, which were individual cities or groups of towns and villages, that were looked over by that District's “High Magister,” who in turn assigned a number of duties to the Magisters below them.
Because the surrounding area was first settled when explorers found the historic “Sweetwater Lake,” the town and subsequent District within the Ebson Province was named after it. I remembered all the times I got confused in school trying to wrap my head around there being a Sweetwater Lake, Sweetwater Town, and Sweetwater District, but it wasn’t the most confusing naming scheme I had heard of, especially when compared to some of the names Terra gave their cities. But it was annoying whenever somebody referred to the area as just "Sweetwater" and you had to guess which one of the three they were talking about.
Regardless, because of Sweetwater Town being the main town within the area, a number of the District's Magisters decided to live here. They each had relatively complete control of their respective duties. And while all of their decisions could ultimately be overturned by Sweetwater District's High Magister should they deem fit, without interference, the Magisters could pretty much do whatever they wanted. There were Magisters for Agriculture, Healthcare, Education… almost everything a society needed.
But one of the most important roles was of Law and Order… and I had just made a fool of myself in front of her.
Why did I try to turn her away!? Why didn’t I know who she was!? Why was I so rude to her!?
My heart raced as I placed the pasta and miso down in front of Jeela, who’s presence had invoked a feeling of fear in me that no Human nor Arxur could ever hope to achieve. Everything had to be perfect. The cutlery in front of her, the water in her glass, the napkins to her side, and especially the food! Someone of her power could have this restaurant and subsequent neighborhood torn down for even the slightest offense!
I mentally kicked myself repeatedly for my stupidity. If anything went wrong, she’d be able to do pretty much whatever she wanted to me and I’d have little to no say in the matter. She could shut me down for good, she could have me imprisoned, she could even….. deport Kenta. For some reason, this was the possibility that hurt the most deeply. I couldn’t tell why, but the thought of being separated from Kenta and having him go back to his now destroyed home twisted my heart to the point of breaking.
I won’t let that happen. I just need to not screw it up.
“Oh my. What an uncommon colouration!” she suddenly spoke up, looking at the food like she wanted to poke it with a stick. “I didn’t know what I was exactly expecting, but after that wonderful soup, I suppose it’s only natural you’d give me something extraordinary!”
This new meal, which Kenta called “Pasta,” was apparently another famous dish on Terra, many of which used the “Tomatoes” that we had been talking about earlier. I wouldn’t have guessed by the dry, crunchy looking snack that he had produced from his bag, but apparently after boiling them in water, they turned into incredibly soft bits of delight that were shaped like bite-sized hollow tubes. A thick plume of steam was constantly rising from it, showing off just how juicy and water filled they appeared, which was only added to by the equally hot stew that had been poured over the top like a kind of sauce. It was almost similar to the curry in a way, but instead of white and brown, it was blaringly yellow and red.
Too red…. While red foods, in the form of leaves and flowers and the like, were common enough, the idea of a red fruit was simply peculiar. Not that it was exactly impossible, as I had heard of a good couple of planets growing such things, but on Venlil Prime, the fruit would be seen as no less than an oddity. And as we all knew… oddities were a danger…
Even though there were many bits of green and white visibly cooked into it, there was no denying that it contained alien ingredients. I’d have to spin it into a believable story that even a Magister could believe.
It was too late to back out now. I had already promised Jeela a meal.
“Oh yes! It’s absolutely a strange colour! I know exactly what you’re thinking, and you’d be correct. The main ingredient for this dish is actually a red coloured fruit that’s….” I hesitated, trying to think of any kind of excuse that wouldn’t dig me too much further into my own grave. “From Valanar! Yes! And it’s very rare too! It’s actually a special import that we just received the other day.”
“All the way from Valanar, hm?” Jeela seemed skeptical, then picked up a utensil and dug it into the dish, the bits of boiled dough pushed around with a satisfying squish as the sauce moved in to fill the holes. “Valanar… The Krakotlian colony? The ones who are on an active, indefinite trade block with the Venlil?”
I had just thought of the first planet I could remember that had a very specific climate to make it believable enough for a strange plant to be able to grow there. I was not aware that it was in the Krakotl territories. I couldn’t exactly just let my bluff be called any more, though, and needed to double down.
“Y-yes, that’s the one!” I said, trying to maintain my cool.
“Oh darling, that’s… Very creative of you! You must have a great business sense to be able to make trade deals with Valanar despite the trade block!”
She… actually believed that…?
“You know,” she continued, “it never ceases to amaze me what kinds of fantastical things one can find out there in the great beyond. And ‘fantastical things’ you found! The smell of this sauce speaks for itself! I’m practically drooling just looking at it!” With a couple wags of her tail in a happy frenzy, she dug her utensil into the pasta and pulled out a sizable amount all at once. “But enough chit chat. I’d absolutely love to dive into whatever this thing is!”
This was perfect. If there was a possibility that she believed my story about the tomatoes, then there was a chance I could sneak a little good will in there too. The whole situation reminded me of the first time the Coin Counters sent Ginro, before I had any idea what an appeasable person he was. Except this time, it was a little more high stakes.
“It’s my pleasure to serve such an established member of the Ebson Province’s Magistrate,” I spoke cordially. “I’d like to formally thank you for your kindness.”
“Oh hun you don’t need to strain yourself like that,” she spoke back with a kind, motherly tone, not batting an eye as she pulled apart my poultry attempt at manners. “I’m just a quaint little Magister with nowhere else to go for lunch. Now why don’t you make yourself comfortable across from me here and try it with me?”
Kenta had prepared a second plate for me, and I brought it out with the intention of eating it later, but I didn’t dare think to eat within the vicinity of the powerful Venlil. All instincts were telling me to stay as far away from her as possible, afraid that even the slightest mistake could cost me everything.
“I-I believe it would be more polite if I-”
“Sit. I’m not going to say it again, hun.” This time, she was fierce, commanding, and my prey heart couldn’t help but follow their request for fear of my life. How was this Venlil so forceful? Bit by bit, every moment around her progressively broke my perception of what a Venlil should even be capable of. My theory about her Predator Disease was growing more believable by the moment.
“Of course ma’am…” I yipped back, immediately taking a seat across from her and mirroring her preparations to eat. Digging my own utensil into the pasta, I began to realize my perception of the food was beginning to change. With every second, it looked more and more appetizing to me, if not for the smell alone. It was strongly acidic like Kenta had said, and carried with it a mix of tangy kicks and the slightest bit of sweetness. The red sauce had a perfect mixture between watery and viscous, allowing it to hold its shape without dripping down between the dough, but still watery enough to flow and cover each piece seamlessly.
Time to see if the tomatoes aren’t actually poisonous.
The moment of truth came as we both reached up and tasted the pasta at the same time. Just the tube-shaped boiled dough alone would be enough to make me squeal in delight. It was both soft and chewy at the same time, collapsing perfectly inside my mouth and allowing me to bite into each piece without slowing down. It was still piping hot, instantly warming my body with its juicy form, the water held inside it easily still retaining much of the heat from being cooked. It felt like a sauna was building inside my body, like if I opened my mouth I might see a plume of steam rise out of me. But it didn’t hurt… In fact it was remarkably comforting.
I barely had time to appreciate the dough itself before the taste of the sauce hit me. I nearly choked in surprise as it filled my senses all at once. A wave of watery tanginess, bitterness, and sweetness hit me, switching between each taste in a constant flux so fast I couldn’t begin to describe which exact taste I was feeling in a single moment. It was like each aspect of the sauce was perfectly blended together, yet somehow differentiated at the same time, resulting in an unbelievably smooth taste that only made me crave more.
“This is absolutely divine!” Jeela hollered, coveting the plate of pasta as she tore into it in a way that was somehow both calm and collected, yet desperate for more. In between bites, she took deep sips of the miso at her side, drinking it like water on a hot day. “I can’t even begin to describe it! I thought the aroma was divine, but the taste is even more delightful! These little yellow bits are so delicate, yet so hardy! But the sauce is so rich, too! I can’t quite keep track of everything I’m tasting at once!”
For the first time since I first realized who she was, I could finally empathize with her. I didn’t know if it raised me up a peg or lowered her down, but I saw in her the same reactions to Kenta’s cooking that I had so far come to deeply enjoy. The love of good food was a trait that all Venlil, no… all species, could share! It made us all equal, all brothers and sisters living our lives in the harsh world, if only for a few seconds at a time. Perhaps this would be something that all peoples could bond over, some time in the distant future of a dream.
“So, tell me now, darling…” Jeela spoke up again, sneaking in bites of the pasta between breaths. “What exactly is the name of this mysterious red fruit you found on… Where was it again? Valanar?”
“A-ah… Its, uhh… Its name is…” I mumbled. Despite how much the pasta had made me relate to her, I still had to remember that this was not the time to lower my guard. She could like the pasta all she wanted, but if she found out about Kenta… I didn’t want to think about it.
She placed her elbows firm on the table, her massive size needing to bend down slightly before resting her head on top of her paws. “Don’t tell me… you forgot? Where does someone so tactful and knowledgeable about intragalactic, risky trade find the power to forget something like this?”
I needed to defend while thinking of something fast. “Ahahh, well… It’s not really like that! I can absolutely tell you the name of the fruit! They’re… they’re called… uhhh… Poisons!”
I had borrowed the word from Kenta. It apparently was used to describe plants that were dangerous to ingest, but I didn’t know if the term extended to anything else. The way he described it almost sounded close to the concept of ‘Fer’minash,’ which detailed how the accidental ingestion of certain heavy metals could horrifically clash with a person’s homeostasis, rendering them ill. The concept never applied to plants though, and I had to wonder what kind of hellscape Terra must be for Humans to have to worry about such a thing.
Still, the alien word was just silly-sounding enough to make for a fake name. I didn’t want Jeela’s “contacts” to have any more information about Kenta’s place of origin than they already had. Perhaps I shouldn’t have called the new dishes by their Terran names… But at the same time, it felt like a disgrace to the foods to call them by anything but what they were.
“‘Poisons,’ hm? Well, I must say… I certainly haven’t heard of any fruits by that name,” Jeela commented, keeping the same elevated, yet curious tone she had maintained throughout the conversation. “And… If I may ask as well, how exactly did you manage to come across this trade deal? While it isn’t illegal on Venlil Prime to break the Krakotl trade block, it is most certainly illegal in the Federation. I’ve got some rather strong cravings for some outside foods as well, so I’d absolutely love to be enlightened by your genius, darling.”
Another block in the road… How can I possibly explain that part to her? Maybe I can divert the focus?
This time, I was a little bit faster with my response. “Oh, well that’s not exactly my department. It’s just something that my cook has been working out for the last few months he’s been here. I can ask him later if you’d like.”
“Your cook…? The same one that cooked us this strange food?”
“The very same, yes!”
“The one you said was new?”
Uh oh.
“Uhh… that’s not what I-”
“You know, hun. I think it’s about time I met this cook of yours…” Jeela said with a completely emotionless tail, staying perfectly still like an unreadable statue. “After all, with all this amazing food they’ve prepared, it would be quite rude of me to not thank them personally.”
She moved to get up from the seat, and then began walking towards the kitchen door. She tread past me with a determined confidence, the unstoppable footsteps threatening to simply be around. Immediately, I got flashbacks to Ginro from the other day. If she so much as peaked into the kitchen, everything would be over.
“W-wait!” I yelled, and jumped up from my own seat to halt her in any way I could.
Running in front of her, I held out my arms in an attempt to stop her. She barely slowed down, the extremely soft fluff over her body barely brushing into my paws as Jeela stopped right before me. I didn’t know if it was a crime to touch someone of the Magister status, and cringed at the thought of her taking that as an offense. Still, I couldn’t let her take another step forward.
Jeela looked down at me and made a dismissive motion of her tail. “Oh? Any reason why I shouldn’t go back there, darling?”
“Y-yes! You can’t go back there becaussseee…..” I thought back to Ginro and how he fallen for my story about the skittish Venlil cook. It was just believable enough to work. I had to try. “He’s a Fainter! I’m the only one he’s comfortable around. If you go back there, you might scare him!”
“A Fainter, hmm?” Jeela grumbled, seeming even more unsatisfied with my answer. “So darling, let me get this straight. You’re a Venlil restaurant owner who hired a cook with the knowledge and capabilities to make highly illegal trades with a Krakotl colony along with the skills to prepare recipes so unfathomable that they completely destroy a person’s perception of taste. All the while, you have to keep them hidden in the kitchen because they're a Fainter, and would collapse at even the slightest scare.”
“That’s… correct,” I mumbled.
We were standing next to the wall, only a few meters away from the kitchen door around the corner. With a bit of curiosity, and without making a sound, Jeela reached over before slamming one of her paws into the wall, making a shockingly loud BANG sound that rang throughout the restaurant. For some reason, I doubted that Kenta could be capable of making such a noise. Not because Jeela was especially stronger than a Human, but simply because she seemed to lack the hesitation behind making such a jarring sound out of nowhere.
To my relief, Kenta seemed to pick up on the test from the other end of the wall, and recreated the same fake sound of falling over that he had done with Ginro. This time, I could imagine the Human carefully dropping the silver utensils into a metal pot, clattering to feign the actions of a fainting Venlil.
“Well, hun… If I’m being perfectly honest…” Jeela said, leaning down a bit closer and pushing her perfectly groomed and fuzzy coat further into my paws. “That makes perfect sense! It explains why you’re so nervous to talk about him, with how antisocial he seems to be. I understand many Fainters like to keep a low profile, so please know that I apologize for asking such personal questions. Please let him know that I deeply enjoyed his cooking.”
How did that story work a second time…? I’m starting to think that a Venlil’s empathy towards the weak is actually our downfall. Would other species believe me so easily? Would Humans?
“I-I’m glad you’re so understanding,” I responded with a sigh of relief, “Trust me when I say that going back there is a bad idea.”
“Of course, darling! Wouldn’t dream of it!” Like a heavenly sign that I might be making it out of the scenario alive, I saw Jeela’s tail start to wag in a friendly manner, like the imposing figure I had just barely managed to stop was sated for the time being. “Ah, but if you don’t mind… It would at least be nice to know your cook’s name. I want to know what kind of person could be responsible for such an immaculate meal so I can properly thank them.”
“Their… name?”
“Yes darling, I’d like to know what to call them by. Unless, of course… you managed to forget that too?”
“N-no! Their name is…”
I stumbled again. I couldn’t just tell her Kenta’s real name! It sounded too much like a Human name! No, he’d need an entirely different name if I even had a chance at convincing Jeela there wasn’t a giant… adorable… predator back there! Kenta… Kenta… Kenta…. It was actually funny, the name almost sounded like my cousin-
“Kahnta!” I yelled, completely mismatched with the volume I had had with the sentence it was supposedly a part of.
Jeela seemed happy with the answer, and turned to the side to repeat the new information loudly. “Ah, so I may call them Kahnta! I see whoever named them must have taken a historic route. Why, that is the name of one of the most accomplished Exterminators in all of Venlil history.”
Oh… Right, I forgot about that… Well that’s awkward.
“Yes! I see your keen eye never fails to make an acute observation,” I agreed, glad that she seemed to latch on to the name as realistic. Exterminator or not, if it was a believable, Venlil-sounding name, then I was happy. Plus, it didn’t seem like Kenta even knew what an Exterminator was, though I hoped he wouldn’t be too upset with me if he ever found out.
“Why thank you darling!” Jeela replied with an exhaustive, cheery tone. She turned and began to walk back towards the table. “Well, enough flattery. It seems like you have quite the situation in the kitchen you need to address. Meanwhile, I have the rest of my plate to tidy up!”
“Ah yes! The fainting! I should go check on him!” I began to make motions towards the kitchen, happy that Jeela was actually letting me go without even a single warning. It felt like I had been struggling to come up with excuses for eons, delving further and further into a web of lies of my own creation. To be entirely honest, it was exhausting, but I was glad it was finally about to be over. Kenta and I would have a good laugh about all of this when we closed later tonight.
“Oh, and before you go Sylvan, I have a quick request,” she said, stopping in her tracks and facing away from me. “While you’re in the kitchen, do you mind asking the Human back there to pour another bowl of that soup I love?”
I froze.
I suspected Kenta had as well. The moment the words left her mouth, the clang of a metal tool hitting the ground suddenly rang through the wall. Unlike how he had just faked it moments beforehand, this one sounded much more real.
“W-what…?” I mumbled.
A giggle echoed behind me, and I didn’t dare turn around to face it. My heart jumped, making me have the sudden urge to run away. But despite everything, my body knew that there was nowhere to run to.
The giggling stopped, and a fake inward breath of embarrassment was pulled in, “Whoops, guess that leaf’s been burned.”
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2022.10.01 21:52 Cyrusk4 Channeling Emanuel Swedenborg - The Great 18th Century Theologian
 | https://preview.redd.it/g7uisns019r91.jpg?width=1170&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5d4fce60f10a95ccd56fcea8e194ec0669801b18 submitted by Cyrusk4 to AfterlifeTopics [link] [comments] Channeled Telepathic Communication with Emanuel Swedenborg - 18th Century Theologian and Enlightenment Scholar - Life on an Angelic World, Unrevealed Truths of His Life, Devious S-xual Behavior in the Modern Age – CENSORED BY FACEBOOK SO READ HERE INSTEAD… ASTERISKS ON NAUGHTYWORDS BECAUSE THE TECH CENSORSHIP AGE IS WONDERFUL… See: The Great Cosmic Shift by Cyrus Kirkpatrick on YouTube for more information, Afterlife Topics and Metaphysics on Facebook. Taken from upcoming book: The Cosmic Shift of Mankind, to be released this fall. Greetings to those reading this anthology. What a great pleasure it is to be here and to write through the very fingers of this young man, Cyrus, who has grown into a talent we can recognize throughout the ages. It [communications like this one] is nothing new, and is a normal occurrence on your world. What is very different, however, is the nature of any creative, artistic pursuit that attacks at the truth, so to speak—which illustrates the importance of this work. My message for those reading comes a full two-and-a-half centuries since my passing. Yet, you may be reading this book at some ungodly date into the far-flung future. In which case, add as many zeroes to that prior date as you like! Most importantly, I want to talk about a few prime concepts, potential misconceptions, that concerns work some are familiar with like Heaven and Hell. And also importantly, reminders about the very nature of the migration of souls from the terrestrial, to the less-than-terrestrial. To the higher realities. To the heavenly realms. This is of especial importance to the former reality of this man Swedenborg; for my world—the Earth—was a battleground planet, a testing center between light and darkness. A prelude to great judgments that were borne upon the realities far and between. From the realities of spirit where I once dwelt to the grand, heavenly planets of the Archangels themselves (where I exist now)—a magnificent contrast exists for those souls migrating from a world like yours into what awaits. As such, a topic I never quite discussed on your world were the specific details of my encounters with divine beings, and how that would someday lead to my life among such angels. Such mysteries will be revealed in these forthcoming pages. It was long a prerogative of mine to understand the very naturalistic, even biologic elements of what a heavenly reality would be like. This became almost an obsession of mine. Surely, in the olden days at Uppsala University, I would have taken an angel and used every lovely ancient device of microscopy to investigate those angel feathers. Back then, we had scant knowledge of subjects like atoms and molecules—just traces of the truth—but armed with such traces of knowledge, I’d been very concerned with trying to understand the compositional elements of a divine being. Why? Well, surely, the angelic being must exist in a naturalistic state; for what would not be a naturalistic state? All must derive from nature, including realms of divinity. This was my view. Who else thought this way? Few, if any. I was standing out like a peacock in the sun. Also, because I thought, “Surely, we must understand worlds beyond this one in literal terms. For most people, it seems divinity is understood in the realm of faith alone. Faith is most important, yet what will I be doing in heaven? I’d very much like to continue my sciences. I wanted to understand my future life not purely in the light of faith, but also through science and inquiry—the literal imaginings of it all.” At this time, I faced an enormous amount of criticism from ecclesiastic authorities because I dared to think in such a way. Why? Because literal terms should be placed into the “faithless fire”, as they would say. Instead, we trust in the Word and place the material sciences, the literality of things, into the realm of Man. Odd, I would say, as this perspective did not appeal to me. Yet, subjection to criticism can wear on any soul, as it did my own, faced by such a constant barrage. Criticisms arise, however, in light of publicity and reputation. What occurred to much attention were my direct communion, and communication, with angelic beings. This is important to point out because there was a host of them, including communications I dared not reveal publicly, including that of the Savior, Jesus Christ. To reveal the extent of these visitations would place me in a lot of hot water. Possibly even now, upon your world. However, this will not ward me away from revealing these stories. Some of my tales were known about, a scant bit of it I would say. For example, Jesus Christ did visit me in person. And as a rationalist, I did not attribute it to hallucination. And those who knew me understood the reality of such claims coming from a level-headed, rationally minded, scientific authority as myself. What I did not reveal, however, is that I ate with Jesus, dined with him as a house guest. He even stayed in my home for a night. When our communion finished, he called me his brother and he left my home. Strange, how do you parse such a reality entering your life? It’s very hard to do it. But I am an inquisitive mind, and I’d have preferred the Lord Savior Jesus Christ to stay a while so I could poke at him with scientific instruments and figure out the physicality of his existence. Sadly, this event did not go in such a direction. So, herein lies the challenge going forward, so we can be pithy for my role in this anthology: Your world is in a state of confusion about divinity, theology, religion, spirituality, magic and God. The first is an inability to adapt to change as it arises. The very element of the heavenly kingdoms is adaptation to change, and allowing so much to flow. I shall speak shortly of my meetings with the Archangels; and my eventual migration to their realms. However, this point about the turmoil facing your world must be elucidated to a stronger degree first. For you see, institutes, and I shall include even the Swedenborgian fellows, should bear in mind that half truths are worse than lies. I am not speaking ill of any such persons who continue forward in my name, but these plights are simply things that occur, do occur, and must be approached vigilantly. A half truth occurs when one element is correct, another element is false, and the package is presented. No one knows how to unravel it, or understand what goes where, and soon an idea persists, like among Lutherans, that m-sturbation is such an immoral act you can soon be sent into hell. In fact, to see m-sturbation in a shameful lens creates a host of psychological issues among people. For one thing, it causes an internalized sense of guilt and shame for elements of nature, completely unrelated to mentality, morality, are classified as such. It creates a sense in a soul that reality is out to get them. That God’s rules do not fit with what is occurring in their midst. It also causes a sense that we are walking a path down a treacherous road with cliffs on either side, in the dark, and despite our best attempts at survival, we could fall into hell at any point. Finally, with life’s hardships, if we should step onto a road like sexuality for too long, it’s the devil’s fruit and we are off to the classification of sinner, which only makes the hardships worse. We could go on, and on. Yet, do keep in mind, this was all my strong belief set during my day. I believed m-sturbation was most certainly a detraction from the Lord, and a blasphemy against a sacred part of life—the holy conception of a new soul—which should be relegated to a brief important moment of sperm fertilization of an egg—the act of biological fertilization that I was endlessly interested in. However, to explore this beyond that sacred moment was a plight against God and an indulgence. Hmm. Most interesting. In order to prevent battles erupting between various factions, there are elements I never spoke about publicly on your world, such as the extent of my visitations with Jesus in my own home. In this same regard, subjects like the churches’ view of m-sturbation, spoken of in such a plain fashion as in this essay, could be quite a new experience for certain long-time readers of mine—especially considering my own standpoint has altered considerably since my days on your world. As you can imagine, there are a great many subjects I’d love to get of my chest given this opportunity and platform to speak to an audience within the Lower Earth. As some recall, in my work I often spoke of the nature of angels—souls that were us, from our world, surely, transformed into angelic status in realities that are certainly as real as ours. I would reinforce how the natural world must remain natural. What is the world of spirit by contrast? Ah, the mysteries of trying to understand where matter and spirit converge. I can see from the rest of this anthology other authors have spoken much about this subject—the soul collective versus the manifested, higher realities. I will not delve so deeply into what has already been explained. However, to put it in simple terms: My work would focus on the organic spirit of life, and not the mental realities, although I would spend much time in the mental reality after my passing, before walking through those gates into the true dwellings of the Archangels. Angels, as I have spoken of before, certainly do originate from our world—but the cosmos is vast and wondrous and those souls elevated to angelic status extend far beyond just the trappings of our one, single planet. Creation is too bountiful to be exclusive to just our one meager world. Unfortunately, ecclesiastic authorities in my day saw things very different. In time, I would prove to myself the existence of greater realities, where angelic authority extends far beyond the reaches of the Earth—even though my constituents saw things very differently, that Earth was a singular creation. The idea of other planets constituting a divine reality was outrageous. I speak now to an audience where perhaps such notions are no longer so outrageous. Before we continue exploring such outrageous ideas, I’d like to summarize a little more my exodus from your world: It was a great series of steps to arrive to where I am now, upon an Archangelic, divine planet. And much of this relates to that very concept of moving from the reality of the ‘bardo’, the mental lucid states of the mind and spirit, even among heavenly realms of such an existence, and into the Divine Manifested Reality, as I shall term it. So, my life has gone through transformation after transformation. If only I knew back then, [in my era], what I know now, so much I would have written differently, so much I would have added or changed, and I most certainly wouldn’t have been going on with my peers about the great folly of m*sturbation. Certainly in my day there were greater, pressing concerns. So, what is this realm of Archangels I exist in now? Ah, yes. I live in a kind of study hall. Much to my liking. For you see, the realm of the mind, the spirit world, never did suit me as I prefer a naturalistic environment. In a realm of the mind, I never did come to suitable conclusions about the biologic nature of heaven; for my mental reality was constructed in a synthetic fashion. Two different modes of being. That is what I learnt, actually. And an important lesson, for the realm of the mind feels physical to the touch, and is confusing, until it is clear the nature of such an existence. So, the Archangelic forces I first encountered back during my life upon Earth were eventually ready to accept me at a certain point in the evolution of my soul into their reality. Indeed, even before my passing, I had developed a relationship among the highest order of angelic authority that would of course influence my work and my life’s purpose. Now I shall speak of who I met before within my Earthly life: The Archangel Jophiel. This was the great, wondrous figure that summoned me to her court from my own home. Wait, surely not Jophiel! Ah, the controversy should begin. Jophiel is a figure from Angelicanism and the Kabbalah, of all places. My credibility would be flame-roasted and toasted. It would be as bad as finding out I was m-sturbating, to have a visionary experience with the Archangel Jophiel. Yet, that is precisely what occurred. And I couldn’t tell a soul any of the details until now. No less, it was not merely a visionary experience but I was taken to Jophiel’s reality. It should be understood Jophiel is written as companion to the Archangel Metatron. This is surely true as well. Metatron now resides around this reality; yet, not a permanent resident, as Metatron is a guiding power and watcher; and of course, he is also known as Samael. Jophiel, in a great assembly, is in power along her deputies, Michael and Gabriel, and ascended above them is the Archangel Ariel. There are many more in this assembly to note, including grand elder beings of the cosmos—dating to the dawn of creation—something unfathomable yet real—with names never before uttered among the lips of people from your world. Even this information shared so far would have caused too much controversy during my day. Perhaps of a deadly variety against myself or my loved ones. It is not something to trifle with—the extremities of the church, and the power of such authority in my era of the 18th century. Yet, there I was under the magnificent throne of the Archangel Jophiel, who was the ruler in her kingdom. Others surrounded her with wings, many with armours, and weapons, and flaming swords, and there she sat on a golden throne in every bit of illumination, glory, grandiosity one could imagine. Yet, there I was, noticing the small details: What was this environment? A real place, literally. And there were others, I noticed men with beards and adornments and offering her praise, or pleading to her, and she appeared to be a very busy woman. So I quipped, “Archangel Jophiel, you are a very busy woman and here I am, mucking about. So sorry for my troubles.” Of course, Jophiel went straight to my mind, and said, “No, Emanuel Swedenborg, come hither.” And so I did. So, up some marble steps I went, quite contented to be in heaven. For heaven appears as anticipated as it had been for me in my life. And, to think: On my mind were the opportunities of this world. Surely, this reality would be ideal for a man like myself. I could see myself among those bearded blokes over yonder, maybe a scribe or a scientist in the court of these angels. But most importantly, I felt to be in a reality that was not my own. No, certainly not, because every moment of this reality had magic behind it. Every scent, every perfume, every glance of every being, every communication occurring mentally—often rapidly—every moment felt an awe-inspiring gravitas that cannot, could never, be described in words. We must not even try. Yet, manifested in physical reality, it was! Jophiel looked at me and spoke, “You may also call me Flourella.” Ah, what a beautiful name: Flourella. Surely, this Queen of Archangels’ true, beautiful name had never been uttered on my world before. Therefore, I can simply go revise the ancient Kabbalah, rewrite current scripture, and be thought of as a madman. Alternatively, I shall keep the name Flourella somewhere near and dear in my heart, while at the same time never revealing the full extent of this particular experience lest I fall into a kind of civil war upon my return to my old reality. Ah, yes, the great taboos of orthodoxy come home to roost, as they say. Fortunately, the Archangelic powers work in mysterious ways. Yet, so does the Lord—and what Jophiel intended of me was to take my reality, and turn it upside down. Jophiel’s plan, to summon me to her kingdom, was initiated because of my great influence. At the time, I did not consider myself to have a great legacy that would echo over the ages, perhaps turning into its own denomination. The Archangels saw it differently; and intended to bring me into their world for a set of valuable lessons. Some of these lessons I did bring back to my flock. An important lesson would concern the nature of the angelic powers in a cosmological perspective. This led to my understanding of planetary bodies, in existence within a higher strata of life. That the planetoid is not a random encumbrance of nature, but a divine recognition that casts its power into all creation, as dwellings of civilization and great existences beyond our own. I was taken to see, through mental power, the entire embodiment of the planetoid I was on. A planetoid of divine power. Angelic power. And this was heaven? Ah surely, who would believe that heaven existed as a planet. Yet, if we are to imagine heaven, why not a planet? Planets are a part of creation, so let us rejoice that planets exist within our great hereafter as the physicality, tangibility, molecular sense-making of divinity. Next, The Archangel Fluorella sent me to meet the Archangel Lashiandros. Not a name known about in our histories, yet for me to even be concerned about this matter tells many tales: For those on the Earths, at least per the age this book is written, tend to consider their denomination to be infallible, completely understood, and no new knowledge is allowed. There is a great prophet, that prophet arises, the prophet’s word becomes holy scripture—and nothing else should be taken away nor added to it. Period. Ever. And so, I have even suffered attacks against me most recently by those who reject that I am truly Emanuel Swedenborg for the simple matter of having had changes in perspective. Apparently, the real Emanuel Swedenborg is sitting somewhere in a cloud, quite upset about this imposter running around with stories of Archangels with names other than those taught in ancient texts. Oh, dear. And, well, Lashiandros was a woman with fiery auburn hair, a few freckles here and there, and a lacy garment like a form-fitting white tunic that appears with ruffles around the edges. Lashiandros was a bit taller than myself, and wore silver and leather boots—a bit like a cowgirl, I suppose. So, she took my arm, and brought me from the throne of Fluorella and off to tour the realities of heaven. To make matters even worse, Lashiandros told me the name of her world was “Sandoterrai”. Alright, and so heaven is named Sandoterrai? Surely, I shall go out amongst my fellow clerics and let everyone know with great zeal, “Heaven has a name! It is Sandoterrai!” And everyone can celebrate Swedenborg having finally lost his mind completely. It’d been a ways coming, but it finally occurred. What was this reality like? Let’s put it this way: I was no longer in my home. My bed was empty. Much like Ebenezer Scrooge, I suppose, I was taken away to this other world from out of my bed. Maybe another analogy could be Peter Pan. My embodiment on that world was my former body that had, moments prior, been tucked away into my wool blankets. Why former? Because through being physically exposed to a reality I would later know by its technical terms—6th density—my entire bodily composition began to transform. And that transformation remained even after I returned home. I became a different type of man. I said I was transformed by the miracle of heaven—and people did not know what it meant, but truly my molecular composition turned into a more robust, more energetic existence by virtue of entering the 6th density-molecular composition. It would only be much later—after my physical death—that I learned the true nature of physics as they relate to divinity—as I was always curious about, and the true nature of the transformation I had undertaken. After this tour, I was taken by Lashiandros to an adjacent temple that appeared in almost different colours than we’d ever imagine. Our same colours—yet on a higher magnitude. And up the stairs we went into this magnificent temple of beautiful pastel colours and engravings signifying ancient histories beyond my scope of imagination. By the time I left that temple complex, things had changed quite a bit for old Swedenborg, because I was forced to reevaluate certain principles. I was brought back to the throne of Archangel Jophiel. She had a laugh, a very lovely laugh from this thin-framed woman with long dark hair. She said, “I hope you enjoyed our world, Swedenborg. I want you to please take the wisdom of our reality back to your Earth so we can spread greater knowledge, and work toward the eventual great shift of your planet into our realities.” It’s like she snapped her fingers, and I was back in my bed. Now what am I eluding to? The worst, most blasphemous thing of all that could never be repeated or I could have literally found my head on a pike outside the Swedish court: Lashiandros favored my rebellious nature, my predilection toward upending the clergy in a most subversive fashion, my ability to balance multiple realities at once, but was disturbed about my views on sexuality, deeply embedded through my religious heritage. Lashiandros, over the course of about 45-minutes, decided to introduce a different perspective to me, and certainly you understand what I mean. The issue is this: Such an experience was reserved for one like myself. A s*xual experience of such caliber on your Earth could potentially disrupt a man’s life. The reason for this is the Archangelic reality, and higher worlds in general, transcend far beyond anything the people of Earth could understand or fathom. And so, a man of the Earth may lose the ability to integrate back into their old life after experiencing such splendor. And what is that splendor like? Well, on a surface-level, it might ‘appear’ similar to your own existence. For example: My s*xual organs were quite functional, to say the least. Well, that’s terrible! We must move beyond those fleshly instruments. This does not sound so divine at all, Mr. Swedenborg! This is surely not the words of this great man. Heresy! Not so fast. I would daresay these organ structures have existed in human fashion for an unfathomable era since the dawn of creation. It’s just on our world, s*xuality is a muted experience. [Editor's note: Asterisks added or FB will remove the post, ban me, lol.] Not on this world of Sandoterrai. Through manifestation on that world, one is now a part of that existence and suddenly our old Earth is just… a bunch of silly nonsense. An average person, taken in s*xually by a woman—an angel—like Lashiandros, would enchant that man (or woman) to such an extent he or she would never be able to think about anyone else, or possibly anything else—ever again—and certainly not clunky, mortal s*xuality. However, for better or worse—Swedenborg was a special circumstance. This was done to me because of my growing, enormous influence which threatened to throw together another puritanical movement of sorts. This was made clear to me through a vision Lashiandros embedded into my mind, that it would be bad for society. That my great influence and work threatened to cause mass societal condemnations against prostitution or even pre-marital affairs, perhaps to pain of death, as occurs during such radical reformations many times throughout history. It was Fluorella’s plan to exorcise this belief out of me. And what better instrument than Lashiandros. And I blew it. You see, this was the great, magnificent experience of all time. Truly. I returned to my bed, my old life. As months passed, I thought long and hard, very philosophically about every element of my “ultimate vision” and finally concluded: The s*xual experience was meant for me, and only me. In fact, that type of divine experience was a way for the angels to test me, and I should double-down on my views of s*xuality as a sacred experience reserved for husband and wife, and lessened to preferably procreation purposes. How could I backtrack? I think part of my mind could not handle that reality, that life, that entire method of existence, and so I put it out of my mind for about the next two hundred-years . More recently, it’s been very important to reevaluate these elements in light of so many from these realities springing forth across your higher cosmos; and my ability to return to the world of Sandoterrai and discover how reality here, on a day-to-day basis, is everything I imagined it to be during my first visitation—and so much more. Most importantly, however, there is no condemnation for a s*xual experience to occur, even if it were among a divine, angelic being and perhaps a man—or a woman—who is already wed. Why? Because as it turns out, s*xuality was a creation at the dawn of all reality—the Grand Creation as they call it on Sandoterrai—and everything is put to the scales, as they say here. That is to say, all is tested and weighed on a karmic platform. There is no inherent sin in such experiences, at all. Yet, there is still great sin within realities of s-xuality—exploitation, manipulative prostitution, human trafficking, or even the greedy, zealous, covetous nature of those who collect s-xual partners for power, social status, money, or just an attempt to use, exploit, and suck the magic and energy from a victim via s-xuality. Great sins of s-xuality are found in abundance across your world—especially amongst your youth—that encompasses both men and women. Yet, it takes an especial interest in rotting away the minds of your youth via “dating apps” that further suck the life-spirit away from the sacred elements of s-xuality, turning it frivolous and status-based. Imagine a “dating app” on my world, or even your higher density world known by some here as Mal'brega—it would be just fine, and certainly a lot of fun. On your world, full of so much sin, a spirit of corruption constantly infiltrates. I call this the spirit of the Devil, seen in a myriad ways, in so many frightening incarnations, and s-xuality is just one aspect of it. From my vantage, in the Angelic World, I see this dark spirit possess young people’s minds—viewing life as a game. For example, the female youth seeking to obtain the hottest, hunkiest male partners off the lower Earth’s infernal dating apps, competing with other ladies for the greatest catch. Worse yet, often with the most superficial of standards in place—“Oh, Brad is a surfer. But I am really hoping my next catch is going to be even hotter than Brad, with larger muscles. Or maybe I’ll find a real dangerous bad boy. A thug or criminal. So hot.” As if this is all that matters. It's a social disorder with priorities based on media imagery and a need to impress peer groups by being extreme, “gangster” . I see it when I view youth at a party, taking harder and harder drugs, laughing hysterically about things that are not funny, trying to impress each other with how edgy they are—to be more calloused, to be more like some mean character from a gangster rap music video—the more a youth steps into that arena, the more impressive they become to their peers. It’s like this behavior begins in high school and does not stop. They all encourage each other to become worse, meaner, more salacious, scandalous. Ah, because this is part of being rebellious, part of being cool. Or is it? No! Just media, cultural programming. Much of it introduced on purpose by the terrifying cabal of the Earth. Infectious in people’s minds. It becomes “cool” to do the opposite of what is seen as right—for what is seen as right is boring, cliché, uninteresting. Yet, this is absurd. So, let’s value hurting people, or being criminal, or admiring criminals, or turning each other into s-xual objects and destroying people’s self worth—while laughing about it, being catty about it, fist-bumping over it. See, as a spirit guide, I get into people’s minds, memories, and I see things play out in such a way, and in this perspective, within this arena of cultural programming, I witness the “hook up culture” and its aftermath; I see broken situations everywhere. I see young men feeling neglected, completely unable to live up to unfair, sometimes terrifying standards imposed by extremely domineering women who pass even extremely high quality men by any normal civilization’s standards. No, such a man is still not good enough, only a top percentile are worthy, as female peer groups reinforce strict criteria of being “the prize.”Therefore, only selecting men based on standards of either bad boy, thug or criminal behavior, or archetypal offerings of social roles—tall, dark, handsome businessmen who are dangerous, cowboys driving only the largest trucks with the most oversized wheels, some surfer who fits something they saw on TV. This almost sounds silly to speak about, doesn’t it? No. It is not silly at all. This is deadly serious. Young men everywhere feel this intense social standard that sends them spiraling into depression. On the flip-side of the gender spectrum, I see young women feeling used and worthless.I see men with an attitude to use women for s-x—men who fit a particular social criteria and standard of attractiveness achieving the privilege of boasting about his conquests with all of his “bros”. The men I witness in this terrifying “hook up” culture then turn it into a masculine show of force about how many women they are with, to “hit it and forget it” they say. Yet, why? Why forget it? Ah, the same insanity—to make “cool” and “edgy” terrible, antisocial behavior rooted in the seven deadly sins. Use someone for their essence, then discard the rest, laugh about it, and move to the next victim. This attitude can then be found in abundance in your p-rnography. Now, even men not fortuitous enough to participate in “hook up culture” can fantasize about it with degrading videos on the Internet where they imagine they are experiencing what that slim percentage of s-xually worthy males can achieve through “Tinder” or whichever app your world prefers. The women, careful to keep this side of their lives hidden, chat about it in a very catty way to all their friends, perhaps making size comparisons of the latest catches’ packages, contrasting to the man from the prior week, and from the week before, or perhaps multiple men all in the same week. Judging them based on physical criteria so merciless, the “dating world” of your Earth becomes a terrifying reality for youth everywhere, causing innumerable social problems, plain as daylight among those from my vantage in life. Where is the relationship between that strange, hedonistic, blasphemous way of life, and my experience with Archangel Lashiandros? Hah! There is no relationship. None at all. A different reality entirely, on a spectrum so wondrous, those sinful youth of your world be in envy of it, and want to experience—only to find it is impossible within their spiritual framework that is so dirtied. That shows you the spectrum of righteousness that I hope I am making clear through this essay. To finish this text, I want to say that the scales of sin are not outright and apparent. It is never black-and-white. It is hard to always track down. The “hook-up culture” that arises on the Earths, occasionally even the densities due to your Earth’s influence upon our worlds, has the potential to take the aforementioned form, where everyone is using each other. But how do we spot it? How do categorize it? It is never easy like people think. You see, souls may go from living within divinity and creation to throwing it away, and seeing reality from a most-selfish angle. This occurs sporadically among certain souls, in particular souls on a newer path and not yet reaching a point of karmic ascendance. No angel on my world would ever start thinking this way, but juvenile souls, fickle souls, souls easily corruptible in different directions, are likely to begin treacherous paths. There is a very specific behavior I have surmised upon studying this phenomenon, in order to track the “trappings of sin”—and it’s the process of turning inward. No longer do we see the majesty of another soul and experience that majesty, we think, “What can I take from the situation to further my own ends?” This attitude can manifest anywhere, and it is not black-and-white. Someone thinks like this because they have an aspiring political career, or perhaps a young woman is an aspiring social media star seeking one million Instagram followers. Now, they will use this power for great good of society—or so they think—so they adopt a very inward-perspective to view everything through a political lens. Perhaps it will even work. They will look back and think, “Boy, I sure was ridiculous in my rise to the top. Yet, I’m so happy I’m here to make the world a great place.” Yet, this strategy can go terribly wrong—for with it, everything has motive behind it. They choose where they eat carefully to gain the most social media attention via those selfie-sticks at a trendy restaurant popular among the youth, or whatever is trending to amass as much popularity and approval as possible. Well, such a person will view others through this same lens of constant political leverage. They will choose s-xual partners in a way to boost fame, attention, social desirability, and power. All part of the “master plan” that ends with being some type of God or Goddess, supremely popular, wonderful, amazing, and as beautiful as the Archangel Ariel, or the Archangel Mandrasa (who you would know as Mary Magdalene). In their desire to reach the beauty of heavenly planets like my own, they will stop at nothing to gain as much popularity as possible. For some, it begins on your Earth, and extends after death into the higher density, cosmopolitan worlds that await so many from beyond the Lower Earths. Much can be spoken about “hell” to finish this essay. Let us put it this way: Vast bardo states exist, as spoken of by certain Buddhist sects, that are mental realities where souls enter realms of pain and suffering. There exists hellish realities where truly evil souls face the judgment of divinity. There is, however, no system that automatically casts people into any such state based upon some ridiculous arbitrary criteria, and let’s not even discuss the absurdities of words like “eternal” in this context. However, another type of hell exists for people on a path like this, which is the torture of disconnection from God. Take such a person as I described, and deliver them up to the Angelic World of Sandoterrai, and watch as they feel and experience none of the majesty. Such a person surely would have a plastic smile on their face, wanting to take photos to return to their world in the lower density—to seem as cool as possible for being taken to such a reality. Meanwhile, they are experiencing an angelic world and being utterly cast away from it. In complete darkness to it. Cordoned away from divinity. Existing in a state of mock happiness, mock satisfaction, but only generating the magic of life via an internal state of consumption and greed. Often seeking the magic and wonder from other souls, wanting to experience their joy, and perhaps using tools like s-xuality to siphon it out of people. Such souls could eventually end up in a truly terrifying external reality. Nevertheless, with their plastic smiles and pretenses of spirituality, yoga poses on their social media accounts, or adherence to the latest spiritual fad of astrology or channelings. All are practices enjoyed by the very teachers of this world! Even astrology has fun significance for people. But what I speak about is the pretentious, indulgent, fake spiritual practices use to gather social media followers, likes, attention, and a pretense of importance, a moral high-ground from whence there is none to begin. These souls already exist in a blasphemous, sad, debilitating type of life that they think is enlightened, beautiful, and wondrous through the advent of supreme rationalizations. Take such a soul to glimpse upon the beauty of a world like mine, and watch as they are overgrown with jealousy, and a desire to become as popular as the angels. To resist this way of being, education is needed on your world. An educational system must remain in place that teaches the true nature of divinity as passed on by the angels. The New Angelic Scriptures exist around my worlds which pass so many tales of wisdom and understanding to help lead us into a new, greater reality united between all the Earths. I would suggest to keep these concepts in mind, as every single person with goodness in their heart has the capacity to help lead us all toward a less sinful, and by definition, more wondrous and beautiful existence—a lesson needed most of all on a greatly disturbed society known as the Lower Earth. With love, that concludes my essay for this anthology. Now, there is a host of Swedenborgian fellows that wish to speak with me, many skeptical that it is really myself, as they have never been to my world and find my continued existence to be strange—as they expect me to be inaccessible, on some higher vista than they are. So strange to me, which is why I need to go slap some sense into them. Farewell. |
2022.06.17 10:24 MirkWorks Eros and Magic in The Renaissance by Ioan P. Couliano, translated by Margaret Cook (Continuation)
Continuing from: First section
ACCULTURATION OF THE WEST
The observer of ideas and currents taking place on the twelfth-century stage is frustrated by their variety. A quick foray into the wings, which few have yet dared to attempt, shows us that many strings are held in the same hand, the same "selective will," perhaps.
The phenomenon that characterizes the movements of ideas in the twelfth century might be compared to a huge flux and reflux of data and cultural values. Spain at the time of the Reconquista is one of the most important centers. In proportion as the Christian kingdom of Castille advances and the Arabs retreat, "specialists" or adventurers throng the field, fascinated by the wealth and culture of the Moslems, and begins their feverish work of translation in which wonder and religious controversy intermingle. Quickly, due chiefly to the college of translators installed at Toledo, the Latin West comes into contact with the principal records of Arab culture (and of Greek Antiquity) in the fields of medicine, philosophy, alchemy, and religion.
The latter remains subject to rebuttal, and Rodrigues Ximénez de Rada or Peter the Venerable, abbot of Cluny, carry out this task conscientiously. Their philosophy offers food for thought; in any case it was not accepted at once and without changes unless, by chance, a Jewish philosopher of Cordoba such as Solomon ibn Gabirol happened - under the Latinized name of Avicebron, Avencebrol, or Avemcembron - to pass for Christian. But as soon as the Arab Aristotle and the Greek Aristotle were discovered, Scholasticism had found its man. No authority, until the rediscovery of Plato and of pagan Neoplatonism, could give that master any competition. Medicine had the same fate: it was adopted immediately, especially because the Galenism of the Arabs concurred on many points with the doctrines of Aristotle. The time of the great syntheses, or summae, had come.
With regard to the Arab culture of Spain, it is more difficult to specify what it carried away in its reflux: perhaps traces of Christian mysticism evident in Ibn 'Arabi, the great Sufi master of the thirteenth century. Be that as it may, those who stood to profit from the exchange of values were primarily the Christians.
This process of acculturation that occurred at the western end of Europe was also accompanied by infiltration of elements from the east, threatening the bases of medieval society with disintegration. Long disguised under other names or simply remaining hidden, the ancient universalistic gnosis of Mani reappeared, in the tenth century, in the teachings of the Bulgarian pope Bogomil. Bogomilism, which had quickly come to Byzantium, showed off the whole arsenal of dualistic gnoses: it held the adversary of God to be the creator of the visible world and inspirer of the Old Testament, which was rejected in one lump, or almost so; it preached encratism, or abstention from marriage and sexual relations, in order not to perpetuate Satan's evil doings, and vegetarianism, to avoid incorporating the Satanic element present in animals; it also preached antinomianism or nonobedience to laws formulated by the civil and religious authorities.
Catharism, which appears toward the end of the first half of the twelfth century, probably represents the Western branch of Bogomilism. Sporadic traces of dualistic gnosis, however, appear from the beginning of the eleventh century in France and Italy. A group of noblemen and priests from Orléans, around 1015, practiced encratism, vegetarianism, and docetism, the idea that Christ never assumed a real human body, this also constituting part of the dualistic dogma. A second example, in Monforte in Piedmont, closely resembles that of Orléans, both in the nature of its beliefs and in the composition of the group. Anticlerical, docetist, antinomian, encratite, and vegetarian, they also presage the Catharan endura with the idea that the members of their sect nearing death should be ritually killed in order to spare them death throes. At the beginning of the twelfth century the Bogomil influences are revealed in the anticlerical and inconoclastic heresy of Peter of Bruis and the itinerant preacher Henry, as well as in the profession of dualistic faith of two peasants from Soissons, Clement and Ebrard (1114). Tanchelm of Anvers and Eudo (Eon) of l'Etoile, both very strange people, seems to have been inspired by the gnosticism of the first centuries A.D., the former being especially influenced by Simon the Magician of Samaria. Perhaps this was a spontaneous inspiration - coming from the innermost depths of the collective unconscious, since both men were declared insane by some of their contemporaries as indeed they are by modern scholars.
The Cathars, Puritan dualists of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, were alone in organizing themselves along the lines of the Bogomils into powerful churches, which, in southern France and northern Italy became a real threat to the Catholic Church. It was in the fight against the Cathars that the Church created and perfected the shocking agency of the Inquisition.
The difference between the Cathars and the heretics of Orléans and Monforte is not to be sought on the ideiological level but rather on the level of practical power, which the Cathars attained by means of their active preaching. Although they rationalized their dogma in a different way than the people from Orléans and Monforte, the Cathars professed no less than anticosmism or opposition to the evil world created by Satan, docetism, encratism, antinomianism, anticlericalism, and vegetarianism (or almost, since fish, which they maintained were generated spontaneously and nonsexually, by water, were not excluded from their lean repasts).
All that interests us here is the codification of theories about love in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and not the history of medieval dualism. Now, it is very important that the Cathars' code of morals, in principle puritan, did not exclude, in certain cases, licentiousness, a grave form of antinomianism with respect to the social regulations for Catholics. The Cathars, being encratite, did not permit marriage: Legitima connubia damnant. Matrimonium est meretricium, matrimonium est lupanar, they declared in opposing such "legalization of concubinage." "They absolutely proscribe marriage . . . ," the inquisitor Bernardus Guidonis tells us; "they assert that it is a perpetual state of sin. They deny that the good Lord ever instituted it. They declare that carnal knowledge of a wife is no lesser sin than incestuous relations with a mother, daughter, or sister."
On the other hand, given that the path of Cathar initiation went from mere believer to the perfect one, sexual lapse of believers was openly (publice) allowed, provided that it not bear the legal seal of marriage, because it was much more weighty to make love to a wife than to another, facere cum uxore sua quam cum alia muliere. This opened the way to a sexual licentiousness that the Catholic Church feared at least as much as the dualistic dogma of the Cathars, because of its antisocial and antidemographic consequences.
The cultural flux that swamped western Europe from west to east, which resulted in the scholasticism of the early Middle Ages as well as the dualistic sects, can be considered an important phenomenon. When the tide receded, the influences coming from the west and those coming from the east were united in the strange and original ideology of courtly love.
Courtly love has in common with Catharism a contempt for marriage and an ambiguous message which, though opposed in principle to sexual intercourse, is contradicted, in practice, by the licentious behavior of the troubadours. Like the Cathar faithful, some of them seem systematically to have indulged in debauchery. The phenomenon of courtly love had, however, more in common with Arab medicine and mysticism, which nevertheless does not negate the hypothesis of a dual origin.
Idealization and even hypostatization of woman, a vital component of courtly love, had long imbued Arab mystical poetry. The latter, moreover, did not escape the charge of dualism, a phenomenon meeting with the same intolerance both by Moslem and Christians. In 783, the poet Bashshar ibn Burd was sentenced to death as a zindïq or crypto-Manichaean (hence a Cathar ahead of his time) "because he had identified the woman, to whom he had dedicated his poem, with Spirit or ruh, the intermediary between man and God." Only unattainable womanhood can be deified, and R. Boase recalls, as a Cathar adjunct to the story of Bashshar, that Gervais of Tilbury sent a young girl to the stake only because she had resisted his erotic advances.
In Islam, the identification of woman as suprasensory entity was more or less current, without lacking ambiguity. For the sufi mystic Sana'i, who died about 1150, a Madonna Intelligenza hidden behind the features of a woman was the pilgrim's guide in the cosmos of the Neoplatonists of Islam; he was, at the same time, the author of one of the most dreadful diatribes against wahmin ever conceived. It is probably a question of the dual aspect of the feminine: the natural aspect, which prompts and justifies the misogyny of the ascetic man, and the essential aspect, under which woman is the "other half of heaven."
Mitigating the contradiction between those two separate aspects of the feminine, the sufi mystic Ibn 'Arabi of Murcia considers woman merely an ideal species. In Mecca in 1201, he composes a Diwandedicated to Nezam (Harmony), daughter of an Imam nobleman of Persian origin, Zahir ibn Rostam. Entitled The Interpreter of Burning Desires, the Diwan's prologue contains these intimate confessions:
Now this sheik had a daughter, a slender and willowy adolescent who attracted the attention of anyone who saw her, whose presence alone was the embellishment of public meetings and struck with amazement all who looked upon her. Her name was Nezam (Harmonia) and her surname "Eye of the Sun and of Beauty" ['ayn al-Shams wa 'l-Baha']. Scholarly and pious with experience of the spiritual and mystical life, she personified the venerable antiquity of the Holy Land and the innocent youth of the prophet's great city. The magic of her glance, the grace of her conversation, was so enchanting that if she happened to be prolix her speech was filled with references; if concise, a marvel of eloquence; holding forth on a subject, clear and lucid. . . . Were it not for petty minds eager for scandal and inclined to slander, I would here comment on the beauty that God lavished on her body as well as on her soul, which was a garden of generosity. . . . At the time I used to visit her I carefully observed the noble qualities of her person besides what the company of her aunt and her father added to it. Thus I took her as the prototype for inspiration of the poems contained in this book, love poems, composed of elegant and sweet phrases, albeit I have not been able to succeed in expressing even part of the emotion in my soul that meeting this young girl aroused in my heart, nor the wholehearted love I felt, nor the stamp that her continuous friendship left on my memory, nor the grace of her spirit and her modesty of demeanor, because she is the object of my Quest and of my hope, the Purest virgin [al-Adkra al-batul]. Nevertheless, I have succeeded in putting into verse some of my nostalgic thoughts like precious objects offered here. I have clearly expressed my smitten soul, I have wished to suggest the deep attachment that I felt, the deep solicitude that troubled me during the period that has elapsed and the sorrowful longing that still moves me when I think of the exalted companionship of this young girl.
...
Although Ibn 'Arabi is at great pains to specify that his poems are symbolic, that the visible beauties only evoke the suprasensory realities of the world of angelic meanings, a doctor from Aleppo accuses him of having concealed a sensual love in order to save his reputation for austerity. This personage, real or fictional, here fills the place he deserved: the moralist who interferes in order to question the purity of intent of the lover and who arouses the very protests of the lover that form the explanation of courtly love. What is involved here is not just a personage but a function in the structure of the literary and existential style cultivated by love's faithful, from the troubadours to Dante. To refute these vulgar insinuations, Ibn 'Arabi decides to write his long commentary on the Diwan in which he explains what Henry Corbin calls "the manner of theophanic apperception" typical of love's faithful. Hence, Nezam becomes "a sublime and divine Wisdom [Sophia], fundamental and sacrosanct, who reveals herself visibly to the author of these poems, with such sweetness as to engender in him joy and rapture, delight and ecstasy."
The intelligential beauty revealed in the sensory beauty of the feminine is the expression, optimistic and moving, of the Platonism of the Andalusian mystic. The corollary of this conception is dual: that which belongs to the intelligential is endowed with feminine beauty, like the angel appearing with the features of a "princess of the Greeks"; second, everything influenced by the intelligential shares in the virginal virtues, like St. Fatima of Cordova, who, at the age of ninety, still looks like a young girl. Contrary to Sana'i who states that the sensory world is a trap in which beauty does not correspond to an ontological quality, Ibn 'Arabi is completely indifferent to that truth, only retaining the idea of a continuum between sensory beauty and intelligential Beauty.
This said concerning the idealization of feminine beings, it behooves us to return to the believers in love in the West. One of the most striking aspects of courtly love is the "vocation of suffering" on the part of the faithful. The occultation of love represents an essential element of the ritual of eroticism. In this process of voluntary withdrawal from the love object, a withdrawal that causes the indefinite postponement of the consummation of desire, is to be seen one of the secrets of Western tradition. No obstacle is too great in this case, including one set up by the lover himself in adopting fickle conduct conveying a mood of public defiance. His purpose in this voluntary fickleness is to obtain not the favors but rather the contempt of the beloved so that this may increase her unattainability. Instead of assuaging his pangs of passion, the faithful lover employs every means to increase them. He has a divine call to be ill and refuses to be cured by the vulgar method of appeasing desire either furtively, like lovers, or legally, like married people.
That Eros can take pathological forms is not new in the history of medicine. An allusion to the cogitatio immoderata aroused by a female image even appears in the very conventional treatise On Love by Andreas Capellanus, a twelfth0century puritan who had the misfortune to be mistaken for a Cathar:
When a man sees a woman deserving of erotic attentions, he at once begins to desire her with his whole heart. Then, the more he thinks of it, the more he feels himself imbued with love until he reconstructs her in her entirety in phantasy. Then he begins to think of her figure, he perceives her limbs, imagines tham in action and explores [rimari, lit: splits] the private parts of her body.
The feminine phantasm can then take entire possession of the pneumatic system of the lover, producing - unless desire finds its natural outlet - somatic disturbances of a quite vexing sort. Called 'ishq, this syndrome of love is described by Avicenna, whose Liber canonis was the manual of medicine in use in the early Christian Middle Ages. But previously, Constantine the African had spoken of it in his translation of the Liber regius of Ali ibn 'Abbas al-Majusi, called Haly Abbas. After Constantine, the semiology of the pathological Eros is described by Arnaldus of Villanova and by Vincent of Beauvais, who classify it among the varieties of melancholia.
The name of the syndrome is amor hereos or, Latinized, heroycus, as its etymology is still in doubt: it might be derived from the Greek eros, corrupted heros (love), or directly from heros (hero), for heroes represented, according to ancient tradition, evil aerial influences, similar to devils*.
The relationship between melancholia nigra et canina and amor hereos is explainable by virtue of the fact that abnormal erotic phenomena were associated, ever since Aristotle, with the melancholic syndrome. According to that tradition, St. Hildegarde of Bingen (d. 1179) attributes to melancholics unlimited sexual capacities:
Melancholics have big bones that contain little marrow, like vipers . . . They are excessively libidinous and, like donkeys, overdo it with women. If they desisted from this depravity, madness would result. . . Their love is hateful, twisted and death-carrying, like the love of voracious wolves . . . They have intercourse with women but they hate them.
Ficino himself admits the relationship between melancholy and erotic pathology, and Melanchthon makes them one and the same thing in his turn of phrase melancholia illa heroica.
The most complete etiology of the illness is found in the section De amore qui hereos dicitur in the Lilium medicinale of Doctor Bernard of Gordon (ca. 1258-1318), professor at Montpellier:
The illness called hereos is melancholy anguish caused by love for a woman. The cause of this affliction lies in the corruption of the faculty to evaluate, due to a figure and a face that have made a very strong impression. When a man is in love with a woman, he thinks exaggeratedly of her figure, her face, her behavior, believing her to be the most beautiful, the most worthy of respect, the most extraordinary with the best build, in body and soul, that there can be. This is why he desires her passionately, forgetting all sense of proportion and common sense, and thinks that, if he could satisfy his desire, he would be happy. To so great an extent is his judgment distorted that he constantly thinks of the woman's figure and abandons all his activities so that, if someone speaks to him, he hardly hears him. And since this entails continuous contemplation, it can be defined as melancholy anguish. It is called hereos because noblemen and lords of the manor, because of plenty of pleasures and delights often were overcome by this affliction.
The semiology of the syndrome is as follows: "The symptoms are lack of sleep, food, and drink. The whole body weakens, except the eyes." He also mentions emotional instability, irregular pulse and "ambulatory mania." The prognosis is worrisome: "If they are not treated, they become maniacal and they die." Finally, the treatment should begin with "gentle methods" such as persuasion, or "strong" ones such as whipping, travel, the pursuit of erotic pleasures with several women natural diversions (coito, digiuno, ebrieta e esercizio as Ficino is to recommend). Only "if there is no other remedy," the doctor Bernard de Gordon, professor and practitioner, advises that there be recourse to the talents of an old and horrible shrew, to stage a dramatic scene. Under her clothes the old woman should wear a rag soaked in menstrual blood. In full view of the patient she should first utter the worst invectives regarding the woman he loves and, if that proves useless, she should removed the rag from her bosom, wave it under the nose of the unhappy man, and shout in his face: "Your friend, she is like this, she is like this!" suggesting that she is only - as the Malleus maleficarum is to say - "a bane of nature."
Exhausted, the doctor draws his conclusion: "If, after all that, he does not change his mind, then his is not a man but the devil incarnate."
<* I think, part of what snared me, is the perception that we're both possessed by the same kind of Heroic Devilry, by Heroic Love. Melancholy Burning. The imbecility in me honors and recognizes the imbecility in you. In vulgar terms, it is Sadomasochistic isn't it? Could we really avoid it or has it been a process of learning how to Aestheticize it as a Devotion to God and in that manner ennoble it, that most of all we cradle remorse, over the hurt we have generated, in those left behind by affections of extreme fixedness and fickleness. That most of all, we've held Love so powerful it threatens to tear us asunder. My Beloved. That maybe we can move pass that and become a blessing instead of a curse on those we love and who love us. I probably sound pseud as fuck, but I think we're in this together for a reason, right? It's difficult for me to believe in myself, it's not difficult at all for me to believe in you. You're a fucking Hero dude, in like the Classical terrifying sense and in the Romantic one. I have an insane amount of Faith in you and despite how much psychic mortification I engage in, I'm somewhat of an elitist and my tastes are masterful and never off. Your Soul cannot be obfuscated or obscured, not from my sight, and it's Beautiful. Really. I really believe you're a wonderful person. My Star that the mere thought of you should force me to muster all the incantation and formulae at my disposal to keep from igniting into fine ash before my time. I owe you some stuff and until my promises to you are actualized and fulfilled, by the Grace of God I'm functionally Immortal. A Revenant. Perhaps that's why I procrastinate so much, that my heart should still sink over not having your eyes be the last things I see before I'm called away from these Lands. God have Mercy on your inadequate poet and his lapses of Faith.
Chin up and onward Christian Soldier. Don't underestimate me, I'll never regret you or any of this, despite my occasional theatrics. Though I may never experience your voice addressing me direct. Though I may never feel your touch. How I gnash and wail in my wishing and penitent washing. This still was and continues to be and will be forever. None will hurt you, no weapon forged against you will triumph.
I won't renounce you, even though it's a sin, to covet what is not yours. I'm your ghost enchained. I cannot renounce you. Forgive me. God, I hope you can forgive me. None of this is your fault. The weight of this sin is mine and mine alone. Though I appreciate the fact that you've tried, that you've cared enough to try. I've never not been a fool. Even if some busted-ass spinster hag should shake a used tampon in my face, I still wouldn't renounce you. >
To be continued...
HOW A WOMAN, WHO IS SO BIG, PENETRATES THE EYES, WHICH ARE SO SMALL
If we closely examine Bernard of Gordon's long description of amor hereos.
we observe that it deals with a phantasmic infection finding expression in the subject's melancholic wasting away, except for the eyes. Why are the eyes excepted? Because the very image of the woman has entered the spirit through the eyes and, through the optic nerve, has been transmitted to the sensory spirit that forms common sense. Transformed into phantasm, the obsessional image has invaded the territory of the three ventricles of the brain, inducing a disordered state of the reasoning faculty (virtus estimativa), which resides in the second cerebral cell. If the eyes do not partake of the organism's general decay, it is because the spirit uses those corporeal apertures to try to reestablish contact with the object that was converted into the obsessing phantasm: the woman.
The second thing worthy of note is that the erotic syndrome only represents the medical semiology - of necessity, negative since we are in the realm of psychosomatic pathology - of the courtly love glorified by "the faithful." Indeed, they seem to use every means not only to escape that baneful infection but, on the contrary, to catch it. Quite rightly, mention has been made of a "semantic reversal," a reverse valorization of the pathologic symptoms described by the Greco-Arab materia medica. Even the locus amoenus, recommended in the treatment of hereos love, reappears in Provençal poetry, as we know.
We must deduce for this that the phenomenon of courtly love results from a warped purpose that brought about a shift of emphasis concerning the concept of health as defined by medical science at the time. Through this Umwertung, the gloomy equilibrium of psychic forces recommended by learned treatises was transformed into a sickness of the intellect, whereas, on the contrary, the spiritual sickness induced by love ended by being extolled as the real health of body and soul.
But - and here we disagree with G. Agamben - this reversal of evaluation did not take place in Provencal poetry beginning with the syndrome of amor hereos but well before, in Sufi mysticism with the equivalent concept of 'ishq described by Avicenna. Even the paradoxical attitude of love's faithful, which consists in feigning frivolous and licentious behavior the better to keep the pure flame of passion burning, is presaged by the Sufi attitude called malamatiya, which consists - according to the definition received by Ibn 'Arabi from the magician Abu Yahya al Sinhachi - in "concealing holiness beneath apparent licentiousness of behavior."
The semantic reversal of the concept of psychophysical health is spelled out in the dolce stil novo, which describes in detail the process of phantasmic infection caused by the feminine image. In the fact that this symptom becomes the object of a supreme spiritual experience resides the secret of love's faithful; it amounts to saying that the "gentle heart," far from following the precepts of medical science, becomes ennobled in proportion as it turns to account the delights of the sickness that consumes it.
That sickness is precisely the experience described by Guido Cavalcanti, continuing from the moment the visual spirit intercepts the woman's image and transmits it to the anterior cell of the brain, seat of the imaginative faculty, until the moment the feminine phantasm has infested the whole pneuma and spreads from now on through the spiritual canals of the febrile organism. No one will be astonished that the poet Giacomo da Lentino should ask this seemingly childish question: How can it be that so large a woman has been able to penetrate my eyes, which are so small, and then enter my heart and my brain? The physicians of antiquity, like Galen, were also fascinated by the same phenomenon: Si ergo ad visum ex re videnda aliquid dirigitur . . . quomodo illumangustum foramen intrare poterit? Averroës answers the astonishment (feigned) of both parties: it is not a corporeal impression but a phantasmic one. Common sense receives the phantasms on this side of the retina and transmits them to the imaginative faculty.
Dante goes farther in his erotic pneumophantasmology. In sonnet 21 of his Vita nova. he envisages the Lady as the recipient of spirit overflowing through eyes and mouth, miracolo gentil. His experience does not pine away in an interior pneumatic circle but represents, in a certain way, a decanting of spirit which takes for granted, albeit involuntarily, some reciprocity of desire. Through a kind of significatio passiva, what was the object of covetous desire is transformed into a subject whence Love emanates, but emanates without being aware of it. Virginal innocence that only increases the pangs of passion, the exquisite torment of love's faithful.
With his Vita nova, Dante also enters a mysterious realm that our rudiments of medieval psychology are inadequate to explain: dream, vision.
To be continued...
(iii) The Vehicle of the Soul and Prenatal Experience
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ACCULTURATION OF THE WEST
The observer of ideas and currents taking place on the twelfth-century stage is frustrated by their variety. A quick foray into the wings, which few have yet dared to attempt, shows us that many strings are held in the same hand, the same "selective will," perhaps.
The phenomenon that characterizes the movements of ideas in the twelfth century might be compared to a huge flux and reflux of data and cultural values. Spain at the time of the Reconquista is one of the most important centers. In proportion as the Christian kingdom of Castille advances and the Arabs retreat, "specialists" or adventurers throng the field, fascinated by the wealth and culture of the Moslems, and begins their feverish work of translation in which wonder and religious controversy intermingle. Quickly, due chiefly to the college of translators installed at Toledo, the Latin West comes into contact with the principal records of Arab culture (and of Greek Antiquity) in the fields of medicine, philosophy, alchemy, and religion.
The latter remains subject to rebuttal, and Rodrigues Ximénez de Rada or Peter the Venerable, abbot of Cluny, carry out this task conscientiously. Their philosophy offers food for thought; in any case it was not accepted at once and without changes unless, by chance, a Jewish philosopher of Cordoba such as Solomon ibn Gabirol happened - under the Latinized name of Avicebron, Avencebrol, or Avemcembron - to pass for Christian. But as soon as the Arab Aristotle and the Greek Aristotle were discovered, Scholasticism had found its man. No authority, until the rediscovery of Plato and of pagan Neoplatonism, could give that master any competition. Medicine had the same fate: it was adopted immediately, especially because the Galenism of the Arabs concurred on many points with the doctrines of Aristotle. The time of the great syntheses, or summae, had come.
With regard to the Arab culture of Spain, it is more difficult to specify what it carried away in its reflux: perhaps traces of Christian mysticism evident in Ibn 'Arabi, the great Sufi master of the thirteenth century. Be that as it may, those who stood to profit from the exchange of values were primarily the Christians.
This process of acculturation that occurred at the western end of Europe was also accompanied by infiltration of elements from the east, threatening the bases of medieval society with disintegration. Long disguised under other names or simply remaining hidden, the ancient universalistic gnosis of Mani reappeared, in the tenth century, in the teachings of the Bulgarian pope Bogomil
Catharism, which appears toward the end of the first half of the twelfth century, probably represents the Western branch of Bogomilism. Sporadic traces of dualistic gnosis, however, appear from the beginning of the eleventh century in France and Italy. A group of noblemen and priests from Orléans, around 1015, practiced encratism, vegetarianism, and docetism, the idea that Christ never assumed a real human body, this also constituting part of the dualistic dogma. A second example, in Monforte in Piedmont, closely resembles that of Orléans, both in the nature of its beliefs and in the composition of the group. Anticlerical, docetist, antinomian, encratite, and vegetarian, they also presage the Catharan endura with the idea that the members of their sect nearing death should be ritually killed in order to spare them death throes. At the beginning of the twelfth century the Bogomil influences are revealed in the anticlerical and inconoclastic heresy of Peter of Bruis and the itinerant preacher Henry, as well as in the profession of dualistic faith of two peasants from Soissons, Clement and Ebrard (1114). Tanchelm of Anvers and Eudo (Eon) of l'Etoile, both very strange people, seems to have been inspired by the gnosticism of the first centuries A.D., the former being especially influenced by Simon the Magician of Samaria. Perhaps this was a spontaneous inspiration - coming from the innermost depths of the collective unconscious, since both men were declared insane by some of their contemporaries as indeed they are by modern scholars.
The Cathars, Puritan dualists of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, were alone in organizing themselves along the lines of the Bogomils into powerful churches, which, in southern France and northern Italy became a real threat to the Catholic Church. It was in the fight against the Cathars that the Church created and perfected the shocking agency of the Inquisition.
The difference between the Cathars and the heretics of Orléans and Monforte is not to be sought on the ideiological level but rather on the level of practical power, which the Cathars attained by means of their active preaching. Although they rationalized their dogma in a different way than the people from Orléans and Monforte, the Cathars professed no less than anticosmism or opposition to the evil world created by Satan, docetism, encratism, antinomianism, anticlericalism, and vegetarianism (or almost, since fish, which they maintained were generated spontaneously and nonsexually, by water, were not excluded from their lean repasts).
All that interests us here is the codification of theories about love in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and not the history of medieval dualism. Now, it is very important that the Cathars' code of morals, in principle puritan, did not exclude, in certain cases, licentiousness, a grave form of antinomianism with respect to the social regulations for Catholics. The Cathars, being encratite, did not permit marriage: Legitima connubia damnant. Matrimonium est meretricium, matrimonium est lupanar, they declared in opposing such "legalization of concubinage." "They absolutely proscribe marriage . . . ," the inquisitor Bernardus Guidonis tells us; "they assert that it is a perpetual state of sin. They deny that the good Lord ever instituted it. They declare that carnal knowledge of a wife is no lesser sin than incestuous relations with a mother, daughter, or sister."
On the other hand, given that the path of Cathar initiation went from mere believer to the perfect one, sexual lapse of believers was openly (publice) allowed, provided that it not bear the legal seal of marriage, because it was much more weighty to make love to a wife than to another, facere cum uxore sua quam cum alia muliere. This opened the way to a sexual licentiousness that the Catholic Church feared at least as much as the dualistic dogma of the Cathars, because of its antisocial and antidemographic consequences.
The cultural flux that swamped western Europe from west to east, which resulted in the scholasticism of the early Middle Ages as well as the dualistic sects, can be considered an important phenomenon. When the tide receded, the influences coming from the west and those coming from the east were united in the strange and original ideology of courtly love.
Courtly love has in common with Catharism a contempt for marriage and an ambiguous message which, though opposed in principle to sexual intercourse, is contradicted, in practice, by the licentious behavior of the troubadours. Like the Cathar faithful, some of them seem systematically to have indulged in debauchery. The phenomenon of courtly love had, however, more in common with Arab medicine and mysticism, which nevertheless does not negate the hypothesis of a dual origin.
Idealization and even hypostatization of woman, a vital component of courtly love, had long imbued Arab mystical poetry. The latter, moreover, did not escape the charge of dualism, a phenomenon meeting with the same intolerance both by Moslem and Christians. In 783, the poet Bashshar ibn Burd was sentenced to death as a zindïq or crypto-Manichaean (hence a Cathar ahead of his time) "because he had identified the woman, to whom he had dedicated his poem, with Spirit or ruh, the intermediary between man and God." Only unattainable womanhood can be deified, and R. Boase recalls, as a Cathar adjunct to the story of Bashshar, that Gervais of Tilbury sent a young girl to the stake only because she had resisted his erotic advances.
In Islam, the identification of woman as suprasensory entity was more or less current, without lacking ambiguity. For the sufi mystic Sana'i, who died about 1150, a Madonna Intelligenza hidden behind the features of a woman was the pilgrim's guide in the cosmos of the Neoplatonists of Islam; he was, at the same time, the author of one of the most dreadful diatribes against wahmin ever conceived. It is probably a question of the dual aspect of the feminine: the natural aspect, which prompts and justifies the misogyny of the ascetic man, and the essential aspect, under which woman is the "other half of heaven."
Mitigating the contradiction between those two separate aspects of the feminine, the sufi mystic Ibn 'Arabi of Murcia considers woman merely an ideal species. In Mecca in 1201, he composes a Diwandedicated to Nezam (Harmony), daughter of an Imam nobleman of Persian origin, Zahir ibn Rostam. Entitled The Interpreter of Burning Desires, the Diwan's prologue contains these intimate confessions:
Now this sheik had a daughter, a slender and willowy adolescent who attracted the attention of anyone who saw her, whose presence alone was the embellishment of public meetings and struck with amazement all who looked upon her. Her name was Nezam (Harmonia) and her surname "Eye of the Sun and of Beauty" ['ayn al-Shams wa 'l-Baha']. Scholarly and pious with experience of the spiritual and mystical life, she personified the venerable antiquity of the Holy Land and the innocent youth of the prophet's great city. The magic of her glance, the grace of her conversation, was so enchanting that if she happened to be prolix her speech was filled with references; if concise, a marvel of eloquence; holding forth on a subject, clear and lucid. . . . Were it not for petty minds eager for scandal and inclined to slander, I would here comment on the beauty that God lavished on her body as well as on her soul, which was a garden of generosity. . . . At the time I used to visit her I carefully observed the noble qualities of her person besides what the company of her aunt and her father added to it. Thus I took her as the prototype for inspiration of the poems contained in this book, love poems, composed of elegant and sweet phrases, albeit I have not been able to succeed in expressing even part of the emotion in my soul that meeting this young girl aroused in my heart, nor the wholehearted love I felt, nor the stamp that her continuous friendship left on my memory, nor the grace of her spirit and her modesty of demeanor, because she is the object of my Quest and of my hope, the Purest virgin [al-Adkra al-batul]. Nevertheless, I have succeeded in putting into verse some of my nostalgic thoughts like precious objects offered here. I have clearly expressed my smitten soul, I have wished to suggest the deep attachment that I felt, the deep solicitude that troubled me during the period that has elapsed and the sorrowful longing that still moves me when I think of the exalted companionship of this young girl.
...
Although Ibn 'Arabi is at great pains to specify that his poems are symbolic, that the visible beauties only evoke the suprasensory realities of the world of angelic meanings, a doctor from Aleppo accuses him of having concealed a sensual love in order to save his reputation for austerity. This personage, real or fictional, here fills the place he deserved: the moralist who interferes in order to question the purity of intent of the lover and who arouses the very protests of the lover that form the explanation of courtly love. What is involved here is not just a personage but a function in the structure of the literary and existential style cultivated by love's faithful, from the troubadours to Dante. To refute these vulgar insinuations, Ibn 'Arabi decides to write his long commentary on the Diwan in which he explains what Henry Corbin calls "the manner of theophanic apperception" typical of love's faithful. Hence, Nezam becomes "a sublime and divine Wisdom [Sophia], fundamental and sacrosanct, who reveals herself visibly to the author of these poems, with such sweetness as to engender in him joy and rapture, delight and ecstasy."
The intelligential beauty revealed in the sensory beauty of the feminine is the expression, optimistic and moving, of the Platonism of the Andalusian mystic. The corollary of this conception is dual: that which belongs to the intelligential is endowed with feminine beauty, like the angel appearing with the features of a "princess of the Greeks"; second, everything influenced by the intelligential shares in the virginal virtues, like St. Fatima of Cordova, who, at the age of ninety, still looks like a young girl. Contrary to Sana'i who states that the sensory world is a trap in which beauty does not correspond to an ontological quality, Ibn 'Arabi is completely indifferent to that truth, only retaining the idea of a continuum between sensory beauty and intelligential Beauty.
This said concerning the idealization of feminine beings, it behooves us to return to the believers in love in the West. One of the most striking aspects of courtly love is the "vocation of suffering" on the part of the faithful. The occultation of love represents an essential element of the ritual of eroticism. In this process of voluntary withdrawal from the love object, a withdrawal that causes the indefinite postponement of the consummation of desire, is to be seen one of the secrets of Western tradition. No obstacle is too great in this case, including one set up by the lover himself in adopting fickle conduct conveying a mood of public defiance. His purpose in this voluntary fickleness is to obtain not the favors but rather the contempt of the beloved so that this may increase her unattainability. Instead of assuaging his pangs of passion, the faithful lover employs every means to increase them. He has a divine call to be ill and refuses to be cured by the vulgar method of appeasing desire either furtively, like lovers, or legally, like married people.
That Eros can take pathological forms is not new in the history of medicine. An allusion to the cogitatio immoderata aroused by a female image even appears in the very conventional treatise On Love by Andreas Capellanus, a twelfth0century puritan who had the misfortune to be mistaken for a Cathar:
When a man sees a woman deserving of erotic attentions, he at once begins to desire her with his whole heart. Then, the more he thinks of it, the more he feels himself imbued with love until he reconstructs her in her entirety in phantasy. Then he begins to think of her figure, he perceives her limbs, imagines tham in action and explores [rimari, lit: splits] the private parts of her body.
The feminine phantasm can then take entire possession of the pneumatic system of the lover, producing - unless desire finds its natural outlet - somatic disturbances of a quite vexing sort. Called 'ishq, this syndrome of love is described by Avicenna, whose Liber canonis was the manual of medicine in use in the early Christian Middle Ages. But previously, Constantine the African had spoken of it in his translation of the Liber regius of Ali ibn 'Abbas al-Majusi, called Haly Abbas. After Constantine, the semiology of the pathological Eros is described by Arnaldus of Villanova and by Vincent of Beauvais, who classify it among the varieties of melancholia.
The name of the syndrome is amor hereos or, Latinized, heroycus, as its etymology is still in doubt: it might be derived from the Greek eros, corrupted heros (love), or directly from heros (hero), for heroes represented, according to ancient tradition, evil aerial influences, similar to devils*.
The relationship between melancholia nigra et canina and amor hereos is explainable by virtue of the fact that abnormal erotic phenomena were associated, ever since Aristotle, with the melancholic syndrome. According to that tradition, St. Hildegarde of Bingen (d. 1179) attributes to melancholics unlimited sexual capacities:
Melancholics have big bones that contain little marrow, like vipers . . . They are excessively libidinous and, like donkeys, overdo it with women. If they desisted from this depravity, madness would result. . . Their love is hateful, twisted and death-carrying, like the love of voracious wolves . . . They have intercourse with women but they hate them.
Ficino himself admits the relationship between melancholy and erotic pathology, and Melanchthon makes them one and the same thing in his turn of phrase melancholia illa heroica.
The most complete etiology of the illness is found in the section De amore qui hereos dicitur in the Lilium medicinale of Doctor Bernard of Gordon (ca. 1258-1318), professor at Montpellier:
The illness called hereos is melancholy anguish caused by love for a woman. The cause of this affliction lies in the corruption of the faculty to evaluate, due to a figure and a face that have made a very strong impression. When a man is in love with a woman, he thinks exaggeratedly of her figure, her face, her behavior, believing her to be the most beautiful, the most worthy of respect, the most extraordinary with the best build, in body and soul, that there can be. This is why he desires her passionately, forgetting all sense of proportion and common sense, and thinks that, if he could satisfy his desire, he would be happy. To so great an extent is his judgment distorted that he constantly thinks of the woman's figure and abandons all his activities so that, if someone speaks to him, he hardly hears him. And since this entails continuous contemplation, it can be defined as melancholy anguish. It is called hereos because noblemen and lords of the manor, because of plenty of pleasures and delights often were overcome by this affliction.
The semiology of the syndrome is as follows: "The symptoms are lack of sleep, food, and drink. The whole body weakens, except the eyes." He also mentions emotional instability, irregular pulse and "ambulatory mania." The prognosis is worrisome: "If they are not treated, they become maniacal and they die."
Exhausted, the doctor draws his conclusion: "If, after all that, he does not change his mind, then his is not a man but the devil incarnate."
<* I think, part of what snared me, is the perception that we're both possessed by the same kind of Heroic Devilry, by Heroic Love. Melancholy Burning. The imbecility in me honors and recognizes the imbecility in you. In vulgar terms, it is Sadomasochistic isn't it? Could we really avoid it or has it been a process of learning how to Aestheticize it as a Devotion to God and in that manner ennoble it, that most of all we cradle remorse, over the hurt we have generated, in those left behind by affections of extreme fixedness and fickleness. That most of all, we've held Love so powerful it threatens to tear us asunder. My Beloved. That maybe we can move pass that and become a blessing instead of a curse on those we love and who love us. I probably sound pseud as fuck, but I think we're in this together for a reason, right? It's difficult for me to believe in myself, it's not difficult at all for me to believe in you. You're a fucking Hero dude, in like the Classical terrifying sense and in the Romantic one. I have an insane amount of Faith in you and despite how much psychic mortification I engage in, I'm somewhat of an elitist and my tastes are masterful and never off. Your Soul cannot be obfuscated or obscured, not from my sight, and it's Beautiful. Really. I really believe you're a wonderful person. My Star that the mere thought of you should force me to muster all the incantation and formulae at my disposal to keep from igniting into fine ash before my time. I owe you some stuff and until my promises to you are actualized and fulfilled, by the Grace of God I'm functionally Immortal. A Revenant. Perhaps that's why I procrastinate so much, that my heart should still sink over not having your eyes be the last things I see before I'm called away from these Lands. God have Mercy on your inadequate poet and his lapses of Faith.
Chin up and onward Christian Soldier. Don't underestimate me, I'll never regret you or any of this, despite my occasional theatrics. Though I may never experience your voice addressing me direct. Though I may never feel your touch. How I gnash and wail in my wishing and penitent washing. This still was and continues to be and will be forever. None will hurt you, no weapon forged against you will triumph.
I won't renounce you, even though it's a sin, to covet what is not yours. I'm your ghost enchained. I cannot renounce you. Forgive me. God, I hope you can forgive me. None of this is your fault. The weight of this sin is mine and mine alone. Though I appreciate the fact that you've tried, that you've cared enough to try. I've never not been a fool. Even if some busted-ass spinster hag should shake a used tampon in my face, I still wouldn't renounce you. >
To be continued...
HOW A WOMAN, WHO IS SO BIG, PENETRATES THE EYES, WHICH ARE SO SMALL
If we closely examine Bernard of Gordon's long description of amor hereos.
we observe that it deals with a phantasmic infection finding expression in the subject's melancholic wasting away, except for the eyes. Why are the eyes excepted? Because the very image of the woman has entered the spirit through the eyes and, through the optic nerve, has been transmitted to the sensory spirit that forms common sense. Transformed into phantasm, the obsessional image has invaded the territory of the three ventricles of the brain, inducing a disordered state of the reasoning faculty (virtus estimativa), which resides in the second cerebral cell. If the eyes do not partake of the organism's general decay, it is because the spirit uses those corporeal apertures to try to reestablish contact with the object that was converted into the obsessing phantasm: the woman.
The second thing worthy of note is that the erotic syndrome only represents the medical semiology - of necessity, negative since we are in the realm of psychosomatic pathology - of the courtly love glorified by "the faithful." Indeed, they seem to use every means not only to escape that baneful infection but, on the contrary, to catch it. Quite rightly, mention has been made of a "semantic reversal," a reverse valorization of the pathologic symptoms described by the Greco-Arab materia medica. Even the locus amoenus, recommended in the treatment of hereos love, reappears in Provençal poetry, as we know.
We must deduce for this that the phenomenon of courtly love results from a warped purpose that brought about a shift of emphasis concerning the concept of health as defined by medical science at the time. Through this Umwertung, the gloomy equilibrium of psychic forces recommended by learned treatises was transformed into a sickness of the intellect, whereas, on the contrary, the spiritual sickness induced by love ended by being extolled as the real health of body and soul.
But - and here we disagree with G. Agamben - this reversal of evaluation did not take place in Provencal poetry beginning with the syndrome of amor hereos but well before, in Sufi mysticism with the equivalent concept of 'ishq described by Avicenna. Even the paradoxical attitude of love's faithful, which consists in feigning frivolous and licentious behavior the better to keep the pure flame of passion burning, is presaged by the Sufi attitude called malamatiya, which consists - according to the definition received by Ibn 'Arabi from the magician Abu Yahya al Sinhachi - in "concealing holiness beneath apparent licentiousness of behavior."
The semantic reversal of the concept of psychophysical health is spelled out in the dolce stil novo, which describes in detail the process of phantasmic infection caused by the feminine image. In the fact that this symptom becomes the object of a supreme spiritual experience resides the secret of love's faithful; it amounts to saying that the "gentle heart," far from following the precepts of medical science, becomes ennobled in proportion as it turns to account the delights of the sickness that consumes it.
That sickness is precisely the experience described by Guido Cavalcanti, continuing from the moment the visual spirit intercepts the woman's image and transmits it to the anterior cell of the brain, seat of the imaginative faculty, until the moment the feminine phantasm has infested the whole pneuma and spreads from now on through the spiritual canals of the febrile organism. No one will be astonished that the poet Giacomo da Lentino should ask this seemingly childish question: How can it be that so large a woman has been able to penetrate my eyes, which are so small, and then enter my heart and my brain? The physicians of antiquity, like Galen, were also fascinated by the same phenomenon: Si ergo ad visum ex re videnda aliquid dirigitur . . . quomodo illumangustum foramen intrare poterit? Averroës answers the astonishment (feigned) of both parties: it is not a corporeal impression but a phantasmic one. Common sense receives the phantasms on this side of the retina and transmits them to the imaginative faculty.
Dante goes farther in his erotic pneumophantasmology. In sonnet 21 of his Vita nova. he envisages the Lady as the recipient of spirit overflowing through eyes and mouth, miracolo gentil. His experience does not pine away in an interior pneumatic circle but represents, in a certain way, a decanting of spirit which takes for granted, albeit involuntarily, some reciprocity of desire. Through a kind of significatio passiva, what was the object of covetous desire is transformed into a subject whence Love emanates, but emanates without being aware of it. Virginal innocence that only increases the pangs of passion, the exquisite torment of love's faithful.
With his Vita nova, Dante also enters a mysterious realm that our rudiments of medieval psychology are inadequate to explain: dream, vision.
To be continued...
(iii) The Vehicle of the Soul and Prenatal Experience
2021.12.26 14:04 Rumbleskim [Digital Piracy] The rise of EMPRESS - How one woman turned the pirate underworld on its head, waged a solo war against the entire game industry (and won), went mad with power, started a messianic cult based on high school-level philosophy, and faked her own arrest to spite her rivals and haters
An Introduction to Piracy
Most of us have torrented something at some point, whether it’s a game, movie, book, song or TV show, but just for those who haven’t, I’ll explain the basics.When you go to a site like The Pirate Bay or Kick Ass Torrents, and click ‘Download Torrent’, all you’re really getting is a link. Programmes like Bittorrent or Vuze are able to open those links, and will let you download almost any file, legal or not. But you’re not downloading it from a server somewhere, a website, or a single person, you’re downloading it from dozens, sometimes thousands of people at the same time, all around the world. Those are known as ‘seeders’. And while you do that, other people are downloading the file from you. They’re ‘leechers’. The original distributor of the file created that torrent, and submitted it to torrenting websites so that other people could find it, but once they’ve shared the full file once, they can break off their connection to the torrent.
This is known as ‘Peer to Peer’ file sharing, and it’s the primary means of distributing media illegally, because it’s basically impossible to stop. If a website is hosting episodes of Game of Thrones, you can shut the website down. If a person is sending out files, you can sue them. But no company or corporation, however powerful, can stop a torrent (though many have tried).
Sharing a movie or a song is easy – you just distribute the file. It will work no matter who downloads it. But games are different. Since a game is made up of loads of files working in tandem and tangled up in a confusing spider-web of code, the developer is able to ‘booby trap’ the game so that it doesn’t work when it’s copied.
For as long as developers have been doing this, savvy hackers and programmers have been working to undo it. When they do, the developers go back to the drawing board and come up with something smarter.
Cassettes were easily duplicated, so the industry invented consoles with more secure cartridges and built-in ROMs that could detect fakes. Pirates reverse-engineered the consoles to make their own duplicate consoles which could run both legitimate and fake copies. So the industry moved to CDs, because they had more storage space and could be fitted with new security features. Pirates cracked the CDs. Developers started requiring a game key, so pirates created key-generators to fool them. The developers came back with copy-detection software, so the pirates cracked the software. The companies started using DRM that forced players to remain connected and logged into the company’s servers at all times. Pirates cracked that too.
This game of cat-and-mouse has been going on for decades, steadily growing more complex and inscrutable. The stakes are high. By some estimates, piracy costs tens of billions a year. By other estimates, it costs almost nothing. To the game industry, every pirated game is a lost sale.
But who are these pirates, anyway?
The Warez Scene
Pirates tend to work in tightly-knit ‘Warez’ groups, and these groups are bound together in a secretive, world-wide, decentralised network called ‘The Scene’. While the Scene has no leader, it has come to adhere to strict rules and regulations. If a release breaks these rules, other groups will ‘nuke’ it – flagging it as bad content. From the outside, they may seem like the Robin Hoods of the industry, stealing video games from the rich and distributing them to the poor, but don’t let that fool you. Warez groups are motivated by competition, not generosity. They all want to be the best. The first group to release a cracked game wins – any cracks to release after that are considered worthless (and are subsequently nuked). There’s no prize, of course. But in the Scene, prestige is its own reward.In one of their info files (often the only way a group communicates with pirates), the group SKIDROW said the following:
Keep in mind we do all this, because we can and because we like the thrilling excitement of winning over the other competing groups. We absolutely don't do all these releases, to please the general user that rather want to spend their cash on updating to the latest hardware, and sees the scene releases as a source to play all these games for free. Enjoy playing and remember if you like it, support the developer!The group MYTH said the same thing:
We do this just for FUN. We are against any profit or commercialisation of piracy. We do not spread any release, others do that. In fact, we BUY all our own games with our own hard earned and worked for efforts. Which is from our own real life non-scene jobs. As we love game originals. Nothing beats a quality original. "If you like this game, BUY it. We did!"The Scene comprises thousands of active groups, most flickering in and out of existence within the space of a few months. Some came and dominated for a while, but couldn’t adapt to the challenges companies placed before them, and inevitably faded into obscurity. Every era of piracy had its big names. PARADOX, RELOADED, SKIRDOW and RAZOR1911 are all good examples. The competition was fierce, so no single group held on to the spotlight for long.
But everything changed when the industry pulled out its trump card.
Denuvo Anti-Tamper
Denuvo is a piece of anti-tamper software, developed in Austria and first released in September 2014. At first, pirates saw it as yet another obstacle which would be overcome and set aside. But it gradually became clear that Denuvo was going to be more of a challenge.I’m not remotely intelligent enough to go into exactly what Denuvo does in detail, though these people are. It’s difficult to understand because it was designed to be. But the simple version is that it scrambles the code inside the .exe (the file that boots the game) and decrypts it on the fly, using information from Denuvo’s servers, and from your computer. The first time you run the game, it will tailor itself to the nooks and crannies of hardware, which acts kind of like a fingerprint. This way, it can detect if it’s been copied to a different device, or if the .exe has been tampered with.
It’s hard to overstate how big a difference Denuvo made. At a time when games were being cracked less than a day after hitting shelves, this software could keep them out of pirates’ hands for literally years. Many people on the Scene thought Denuvo was truly impenetrable. That reputation got around, and soon almost every game came with it baked in.
There are claims that Denuvo has all sorts of negative effects on games, from slowing load times to taking a toll on hardware. It’s also possible that due to the way Denuvo works, once the company stops supporting older games, or new hardware becomes too different to old hardware, gamers may be totally unable to play. There’s a lot of debate about whether these effects are real but it's hard to know who to trust, because everyone has a narrative to push. Pirates go to great lengths to discredit Denuvo, and corporations work hard to defend it.
“The Denuvo anti-tamper technology is ultimately to protect the gaming industry and ensure game studios have an ability to continue to invest and build new games,” said a representative in a statement. “On PC, a large proportion of games (especially the AAA games) tend to be protected for a period of time to protect the monetization of the games being launched—say six months or 12 months for example.”It took three months for the first breakthrough. 3DM, a warez group from China, successfully breached Denuvo on 1st December 2014. Thirty days after it came out, 3DM released Dragon Age Inquisition onto the Scene. But major video games made most of their sales within the first month, so that was still a victory for the developers.
Games came out in drips and drabs for a while. In all of 2015, only six games were cracked. 3DM gradually fell behind their biggest competitor, CPY. When CPY cracked Metal Gear Solid V only nine days after it hit shelves, there were optimistic whispers that perhaps Denuvo could be defeated after all. But that was a folly.
In January 2016, Rise of the Tomb Raider came out, and with it was a new and improved version of Denuvo. Whatever had changed, it was enough to terrify 3DM. Within days of its release, they admitted defeat.
“The last stage is too difficult and Jun nearly gave up, but last Wednesday I encouraged him to continue,” the founder, known by her internet handle “Phoenix”, said.3DM all but disappeared from the Scene after that. CPY was the only group left with any prospects of taking down Denuvo. They toiled quietly in the background for days. The days became weeks. Weeks became months. And the video game piracy community fell into a long, deep hibernation, fuelled only by memes and indie games.
“I still believe that this game can be compromised. But according to current trends in the development of encryption technology, in two years’ time I’m afraid there will be no free games to play in the world,”
And then one morning, it awoke. Tomb Raider had been cracked. It had taken 193 days, but CPY had done it.
The day CPY gave us Hope again ...After that, the games began to release more regularly – around a week or two apart. Since CPY was the only group capable of breaking Denuvo, they owned the Scene in a way no other group ever really had. From August 2016 through to May the next year, almost nothing got cracked without their input. It still took at least a month to crack a single game, but the number of days gradually got smaller and smaller. When Resident Evil Biohazard got cracked within five days, the call once again went out that Denuvo had truly been defeated, for sure this time.
And the scene and outsiders of the scene have completely dismantled and destroyed them. Far cry from the fear everyone originally had. Every new protection is scary at first but when it comes down to it...if there are people smart enough to create it...there are people smart enough to reverse engineer it! Cheers to all the groups and individuals who crushed them and will continue to do so as it evolves.Over time, CPY started collaborating more with other groups, who themselves picked up the tricks for circumventing Denuvo. BALDMAN and STEAMPUNKS began to dominate between June and October 17. Between them, there were pirated games coming out almost every day. CODEX was there too, first working on collabs, and then on their own. From 2018 to 2020, they made up most of the releases, and CPY made up the rest.
And there was also a woman called EMPRESS.
Long Live the Queen
The rise of EMPRESS didn’t come as a shock; it was a gradual takeover. She first appeared under the name C000005, and had a history working with the popular cracker CODEX. Her first Denuvo cracks under the name EMPRESS came in mid-2017 as part of larger collaborations. One of these, ‘Total War Warhammer 2’, involved no less than six scene groups, plus EMPRESS on top.She worked her way up from three collabs in 2017, to five in 2018, and a few the next year too, and it wasn’t until her solo debut with the cracked version of ‘Planet Zoo’ that she really made waves.
Between October 2020 and July 2021, EMPRESS would reign supreme. Of the fifteen major cracks during that period, she was behind eight.
But it wasn’t just her skill that drew attention. It was the fact that she bucked every trend in the Scene. She wasn’t part of some secretive group, she was one woman out to declare war against an industry worth tens of billions, and she won, with nothing more than her own intelligence. The normal Scene motivations of glory and prestige meant nothing to her (so she claimed), it was all about saving games. She made the cardinal sin of commenting on the CrackWatch subreddit, and did it freely. She posted polls asking what games the community wanted next, called out her competitors, interacted with fans, and shared her (often enigmatic) philosophical views. And unlike the other groups, she accepted donations.
In short, she was everything the Scene hated. But they couldn’t touch her – none of them could. She was one of the only people in the world capable of breaching Denuvo, so no-one could justify any measures against her. And even if the Scene tried to ‘nuke’ her releases, people would download them anyway – such was her fan following.
Groups targeted whichever games they pleased, insulating themselves from outside input, to say nothing of requests. And a lot of the time, they didn’t update their releases to account for bug fixes or software changes, fating their achievements to obsolescence. Empress doesn’t think they loved video games. They loved themselves, and winning. “Everything they did was just a way to ‘prove’ themselves and boost their fake meaningless Egos,’” says Empress.EMPRESS became the closest thing the piracy community had to a celebrity. People loved her.
In a February interview with Wired, EMPRESS said she had been called to the purpose through dreams. A copy of Dark Souls 2 floated before her, wrapped up in chains made of numbers, and as she focused, she began to see what every number meant ‘universally’. Looking deeper still, she entered ‘The Zone’, which allowed her to ‘SEE MORE into everything’, and shatter the chains. When asked about her process, EMPRESS said, “By mixing philosophy with coding. It’s very complicated. I have a ‘Goal’ that no one else has. I have no need for Ego.” This is the kind of larger-than-life persona she adopted.
Of course, there were those who simply couldn’t believe Empress was a woman. She had to be a man – or even a group of men. To this, she said:
”to all the GENDER FREAKS out there who keep claiming out of their own ass that I am a male, I am so sorry to ruin your fantasy dreams of a trans cracker is false and yes I am actually a woman. Next time if you want to speak about your pathetic fetishes, you better look at yourself in the mirror.” She would later say, “i am 23 years old, and i am beautiful AS HELL. but i don't care 1 bit how i ‘look.’ i care of what i ‘Do.’”The Wired interview is revealing and bizarre in equal measure.
“i think the main problem is that people ‘fail’ to see Video Games as the pinnacle and max potential of ‘art,’” Empress says that as a child she was a “very strange girl who did not like the ‘Real World’ as much as other people seem to.” More than the average gamer, she says, she has always taken games seriously not just as a way to pass the time, but as places to go and be. She loved Tetris on the NES, for when she wanted to “go ‘beyond’ the human limits in terms of ‘Response’ and ‘creativity.’” She loved Megaman 1, “for philosophical reasons that people do not understand.”The video game piracy community had long been a separate world to the Scene. Each understood the existence of the other, but didn’t care about their motivations, only their results. Gamers didn’t give a shit about the bizarre Warez industry or its search for clout; as long as cracks came out, that was all that mattered. And vice versa, as far as the Scene was concerned, gamers existed only to reinforce that clout. It was a confused but mutually beneficial relationship.
“i always keep in the ZONE till i crush their pathetic puzzle prisons,” she says. Cracking DRM has taught her that the only real way to view the games industry right now is through the lens of philosophy. Philosophy helps people discern what is valuable, she says. And to discern what is valuable, you must look for higher truths. The higher truth in gaming, she says, is that “wanting to preserve something you ‘Buy’ should NEVER be a ‘Crime.’”
Recently, she cracked Anno 1800, which layered three types of protection, Denuvo on top. “No one else does this because it requires insane amount of focus, dedication and endless passion. I was able to achieve this only in several months of research. it was HELL to say the least.”
So when EMPRESS came along, espousing virtuous anti-corporate goals and beating the big publishers at their own game, the piracy community fell in love. In fact, her releases were sometimes even better than the official versions. Her fan-following rapidly grew into an almost cult-like obsession. She was half-jokingly called the messiah of video games. The community became full of her bizarre philosophical exercises, reviews, and even a few diss tracks.
“The reason why Ubisoft, EA and such companies never remove denuvo from their games is only because they LOVE feeling superior and ENJOY seeing you the customer as PIG under their control or worse.”The corporations tried to use her fame against her. She announced her releases ahead of time with a lot of fanfare, and gave regular updates on her progress. So when news got out that EMPRESS was about to crack Assassin’s Creed Odyssey, Ubisoft sabotaged the game so that players couldn’t fight two of the bosses. Then when the crack released, they removed the bug. EMPRESS’s version had to be fixed by other crackers.
But they couldn’t hold her off forever. The revolution had arrived, and it had found its Robbespierre. When the coveted Red Dead Redemption 2 release came out, she was on top of the world.
But we all know what happened to Robbespierre.
Are we Pirates or are we Dancer?
EMPRESS first began to lose followers through her ‘philosophy’. She had come to believe she had a totally unique view on the world that no one could even begin to understand. As far as Empress was concerned, she had the ‘perfect and totally correct’ answer to all philosophical questions. Whether this sense of grandeur had its origin in drugs, or the praise she was getting, or something else, it’s hard to say. In her first major philosophy post, she said, “I have always had lots of universal philosophy knowledge inside my soul and it always opposes the famous philosophers and thinkers' theories, and pretty much "Everyone else" on this planet.”Aside from balking at the audacity of using a platform for piracy as her own personal blog, the community was quick to knock her down a peg.
So I guess you read them all? The great thinkers? To verify how you are above and beyond their thinking?This was a strong argument, but as someone else jokingly pointed out:
Do you understand how utterly arrogant this post makes you? I will tell you why. To put yourself above thinkers like Arthur Schopenhauer, Adam Smith, John Locke, Charles-Louis de Secondat, Immanuel Kant, Thomas Hobbes, Baruch Spinoza, Francisco de Vitoria, Friedrich Nietzsche and so many others. Human beings who have helped shape the foundation of the world we live in today. I am talking about the most basic of basic stuff we now take for granted like property, human rights, democratic governance and rule of law. Without these ideas and those who dedicated their lives to refine them, our world could not be like it is today.
bitch shut up, they pirated rdr2Which, to be fair, Hobbes and Kant never did.
The next philosophy post came with a ‘shitlist’ of all the people who had opposed her.
many people has put their heart and soul in their replies, and some of them were "very close" to the truth , while others tried their best to be DICKHEADS and speak with a brain of a cockroach. i list them below.This didn’t earn her any friends. There were discussions of banning her completely. In order to find a compromise, EMPRESS went and created her own platform, with blackjack and hookers. It wasn’t too successful, but her most ardent disciples happily made the jump, and most of the piracy community was happy to see the end of her bizarre posts.
But the bliss wouldn’t last. Empress was shortly suspended, her followers scattered. No one seemed to care much about that.
Fuck You, Pay Me
You might remember the part when I said EMPRESS accepted donations. That would become a pretty big part of this. The most important thing to EMPRESS was cracking games, but a girl gotta eat. She had a real job. When fans donated money, she was able to take time away from that job to spend on cracking. “How much time I spend in it depends on the amount of donations I receive.” In other words, fans could pay her to get pirated games faster. Empress knew the value of her work, and expected to be compensated for it.requiring money to keep working on this cancer is something that is a "must", and its not my choice or anyone else's.In September 2020, she approached the piracy community with a confession. After ending her solo career and joining a more traditional Scene group, she was back. The Scene was dead, she proclaimed, and they wouldn’t be coming to help. In fact, many of the recent Denuvo releases by other groups had been mainly done by EMPRESS. There were even questions of whether the Scene was deliberately delaying crack releases because they were being paid off by the industry. Conspiracies ran wild.
The undeniable truth is-- this life requires this whether we like it or not... because otherwise there is no human capable of just magically producing cracks for the most annoying cancer drm in this world.
the most talented crackers in the SCENE left and worked for DENUVO for this same reason ... and to avoid my fate ending up in any negative way too, i am requesting all of your help to keep struggling and crushing this drm with every new version they make.
If you had high hopes for the scene to make some miracle comeback, I have bad news for you. Even before the busts, the scene's state was already very rotten and most of the people inside are nothing but leechers of fake fame based on on some old ass "glory". I made the Planet Zoo crack in 1 week, I made crack for Total War Three Kingdoms in 4 days and they were both ready to go in early August. But the lack of even tiny bit action from the people who should have moved things forward, made me completely blocked in what it seem to be infinite stagnation. Because I had to wait them, almost 2 months... I couldn't do any progress on Denuvo AT ALL. And as a result I became very tired. And you wait those people to save you? Especially after the busts, 95% of the scene is in dead silence. My mistake was leaving you and going with them in promises of fake support , so I am sorry for that.This all lead up to the pitch: there was a new Denuvo variant out there, and if it could be broken, pirates could get their hands on games like Death Stranding and Resident Evil 3. But she would need to dedicate herself wholly to it, and that meant relying fully on donations.
The Scene didn’t take this lying down. In the info files of their own releases, they slated EMPRESS’s greed and unsavoury motivations. In their crack for ‘Iron Harvest’, the group DARKSiDERS had this to say:
As we do this without profit from own pockets, we supply them games, buy em... EMPRESS you are asking money for piracy!!But EMPRESS was always ready with a response.
We think thats more rotten then CODEX themselfs!!
We also have our real-life jobs todo and we would not ever ask money!
SHAME ON YOU! For starters piracys basic princible is...: FREE!"
*ALSO THiNG iS
You are calling scene toxic just cuz were on one
biggest groups. We re really chilled and let ppl
do things on their own pace. Most of sceners are
Ä bit angry at the fact that codex used/uses
MONEY for crackers, scene dont do that usually.
They must understand I do not care about their shitty competition. We are not talking here about making profit from cracking itself, we are talking about saving the right to preserve your games and own them, because in current days no matter how much money you have, you simply cannot buy true ownership anymore. Instead you have to install 3 launchers and go through several sever authorizations in order to play your games. This missions requires extreme dedication and time put into it. So, yes, naturally requires financing as well, one way or another. Don't you think I don't hate asking for money, but it's how the things are.No one had ever seen anything like it on the Scene before. Empress thought she was better than everyone else, and she kind of was (at least, as far as cracking was concerned). However the piracy community started to sour on her over time, partly because of her requests for money, and partly because of her weirdly preachy and arrogant philosophical ramblings, which people often felt forced to slog through because they sometimes held hints about future cracks. Plus some of these philosophical opinions came across as a little transphobic. She was starting to get a reputation as a bit of a nut job who had let the whole thing go to her head.
They said it themselves, they chill and do nothing, because are lazy old bastards, who only speak but never do anything. Also I know about several german groups making money through giving early pre information to p2p sites, so don't give me that scene morality again.
DARKSiDERS, you are bottom of the scene with SKIDROW and you know exactly what I am talking about.
This wasn’t helped when when EMPRESS released the crack for ‘Immortals: Fenyx Rising’. Pirates noticed that they had extremely low download speeds, and figured out that she was deliberately throttling her own torrent. Why? Because she didn’t want any other pirates repacking and re-uploading her cracks. To clarify, a repacker takes a torrent, strips away the fluff, compresses it down to a tiny size, and releases it again. Repacks are made for people who struggle downloading large files. EMPRESS wanted a monopoly over the spotlight, and tried to prevent repackers getting hold of the game. This led to new beef with the person re-packing most of her releases, ‘FitGirl’, promising never to work with EMPRESS’s cracks again.
In July, she went as far as to hold cracks hostage. Following one of her regular polls, she said “the highest vote choice will not win if i don't receive 500$ for it. the people who will vote for the highest demanded game need to cooperate and collect 500$ for me to crack the game. this way it doesn't have to just be "1" single indvidual suffering for the entire thing when everyone else gets the game for free later.”
No money, no crack. Those were the terms.
Pirates were stingy at the best of times – that’s why they were pirates. But there were no alternatives. It was EMPRESS or nothing. It was a lot cheaper to throw a dollar or two her way than to buy a game at full price. All that talk of ‘saving video games’ was starting to ring hollow. The push-back against her was enormous.
if id wanted to pay money id just buy the game, this is retarded and you should be ashamed of this. you shouldnt crack games for the money you should do it for the ideology or for the competition. this is a disgrace. shame on youThere was also the problem of preference – people wouldn’t donate towards cracking games they didn’t even like. One fan pointed out: “people might still support you so you don't starve to death but you are probably gonna lose respect if your choice of games don't align with that of most people who follow you.”
“Every fu*cking time these kids vote for a childish anime game instead of an open world game.”But EMPRESS wouldn’t be cowed by abuse. Far from backing down, she continued calling out to potential contributors and sponsors, and promised that if anyone had a specific game they were desperate to get cracked, a simple payment of $500 dollars would make it happen.
This was open to a lot of manipulation – all a company had to do to protect their newest release was pay EMPRESS to focus on something else instead.
“the entire ‘Scene’ rules that accept ‘no money/donations’ is 1 of the biggest problems which always push the crackers back, instead of forward,” says Empress. “if you’re going to do such INSANE EFFORT, you wouldn't just do it for and from ‘nothing’EMPRESS would try to let her fans decide how they wanted the process of donating to go, but that quickly devolved into chaos, fuelled by her detractors. But her supporters gave as good as they got, and the resulting firestorm grew steadily more toxic until it overflowed into every piracy-related space. All the while, she continued preaching her philosophy and attacking anyone who opposed it.
i suggest you all go for a self re-check, you people have stinking shallow mind and souls... my philosophy is the "UNIVERSAL" type, and the term "Subjective" means NOTHING in my world. [if you STILL not convinced and disagree of anything i said in this post, i congratulate you because it means you didn't understand a SINGLE WORD from what i said. please enjoy an empty pathetic life].
Wanted Woman
The was a great danger looming over EMPRESS’s rise to stardom. The law. After all, there was a reason why members of the Scene kept a low profile. Companies couldn’t touch the torrents, but with just enough information, they could take down the people making them. Other pirates (such as one named Voksi) had been apprehended before, and sometimes the plea deal even involved working for Denuvo. It could happen again. Fans urged EMPRESS to be careful. They thought she was sticking her neck out far too much.I hope you get all the support you want but keep safe.EMPRESS promised she would, but it wasn’t enough. Or so it seemed.
In February 2021, she announced that thanks to her haters and rivals, who had leaked her address to the authorities, she had been well and truly nicked.
some serious people ON REDDIT managed to report me to authority with my real address, i am not quiet sure how it happened, but even with putting my philosophical side aside, i think i pissed off the entire internet just by trying to control "MY" own crack for 24 hour is actually something i am still not able to believe. in less than an hour, i will be dragged out of my home here with my lawyer, but considering i was caught red handed while preparing version 2 fix for my immortals crack, i don't think there will be much of hope against it at all.Her message to those who had insulted her was totally not at all bitter – she thought they were ‘all beautiful people’ who she definitely didn’t hate, because they had just made a mistake. This was all somewhat rich for a woman who was rapidly developing hints of megalomania and power-madness.
And then she made an Obi-wan-esque speech about ‘remembering me’ and ‘contuing on my path’.
Everyone was quick to point out the flaws here. The police generally don’t bust down your door, catching you ‘red-handed’ cracking Denuvo, then call you to tell you they’re going to arrest you in an hour, so you have time to write out a long and dramatic letter blaming others for your woes.
”I will be there in less than an hour to take you in. please don't delete any incriminating data. thanks."Other crackers weighed in on the hilarity of the whole thing, especially Fitgirl, whom EMPRESS mentioned by name. Some users went straight to mockery.
This infinity crackhead has really gone of the deep end.But to much of the community, it was just kind of sad.
EMPRESS, if what you want is just ask us to forget all about the last few days/weeks and move on, just say so. It's fine, we will. You don't need to make up stories.I think the funniest response to the whole letter is “Ma'am, this is a Wendy's.”
I really admired her... before she went batshit, like, she was the only one cracking denuvo, asking us what we wanted cracked next, for a time, she was the real queen of the pirates...then she went full fascist, started rambling about gender supremacy, seeing enemies everywhere, shit just went down hill, shitBut worry not! Despite being caught in the act of piracy, EMPRESS would proclaim on her website that the investigation had ended and her lawyer had gotten her off the hook. She was back to cracking. It was a long and gruelling prison sentence that went on for over three months, but she had survived.
Jokes. This announcement came two days after the alleged arrest. Apparently the ‘police raid’ was nothing more than a lenient, routine police check.
But nonetheless, the harrowing experience had reformed Empress into a new woman. She apologised to the people she had offended, and promised to start again without hate or conflict.
i am very emotional soul, and i burst with emotions quiet easily. so i want to give an official apology to ALL repackers, and ALL people who ever got offended from me due to that. i messed up before, but i will not mess up again. i put hope in your kindness, and your ability to forgive.For once, her fans and haters were united. They were all happy to see her back. Whether she had really been arrested, or had simply invented the whole thing as an excuse to reinvent herself, they hoped it would be a positive change.
I am happy with it. Everyone makes mistakes in their lives. I hope you are doing well after this and everything will be back to normal.[…]
Mistakes happen but it is brave of u that u accepted those mistakes and want to start afresh! You will always have the chance to start afresh and nobody can take that from you! Now prove that you are the best and have a peaceful relationship with everyone!Of course, there were those who thought this was yet another stunt. People were starting to question her claims about the Scene being dead. Perhaps, they said, EMPRESS had become a lone wolf because she was kind of antisocial.
Thank you for your efforts
if they wanna start fresh why not come clean about the police lie? it was so obvious.There were pundits asking when the Netflix adaptation would come out, and others congratulating her on the world’s shortest police investigation.
this is like a soup opera i fucking love itSo where are we now? Well the philosophy came back with a vengeance, but it was largely contained to EMPRESS’s own subreddit and her website. Her releases, such as Resident Evil Village and Assassin’s Creed Valhalla, have helped earn back some goodwill.
Speaking for the whole community, one man said:
I just wanna play games man jeez...
”I don’t wanna get black fungus, thank you”
Unfortunately, this redemption arc would not come to pass.EMPRESS just couldn’t keep from stirring shit. Not long after her dramatic return, she went on an odd rant against Indians, and announced that she was done being Pirate Jesus, she wanted to be Pirate Pinochet now.
the days of “the kind empress” is LONG GONe and FINISHED.When someone asked if she had ever visited India, she confirmed that she had not.
MALES has “proved” they are TRASH. And I only need the “good” ones, those who actually have a brain in their skull.
and to anyone wondering, YES I hate 99% of india’s retards.
I know who here is indian, and I haven’t spoken against them cause of their “country”. but I will NEVER stop expressing how I hate that country as a “Whole”.
This caused a lot of drama. As it turns out, there are quite a few Indians out there. And since a lot of games don’t sell in India, they make up a LOT of the piracy community. One of my favourite responses (from user Don11390) was this:
Wow. As an Indian guy, I went from "Oh, she's basically a chuuni character that escaped into our world from some shitty manga" to "I really hope she gets hit by a truck" after seeing that screenshot.Of course, most people already hated her, and the rest weren’t going to change their minds. The only reason she gained any attention was because people wanted games.
Yeah the amount of fuck I give about this is so small that it doesn't even register on a scale. All I care about is free games. I would suck Satan's dick if he was the one cracking denuvo js..I wish there was some happy ending to this. But there isn't, really. EMPRESS is still doing her thing, and everyone's happy to hand-wave it away as long as she delivers the good shit.
And if that doesn’t just burst with Christmas Spirit, what does?
2021.11.01 18:50 ProlapsePatrick Millon's Subtypes of ASPD and Psychopathy At a Glance - Overview
In order to better understand ASPD/Psychopathy for both NTs, those who suspect they may have one of the following disorders, or those professionally diagnosed, I'd like to introduce you all to the Millon Subtypes, in a condensed and easy to reference overview:
5 Subtypes of ASPD:
9 Subtypes of Psychopathy
(If the hyperlinked sources are broken, please let me know)
submitted by ProlapsePatrick to Psychopathy [link] [comments]
5 Subtypes of ASPD:
- Nomadic Antisocial (Including Schizoid and Avoidant Features)
- Official Description: "Drifters; roamers, vagrants; adventurer, itinerant vagabonds, tramps, wanderers; they typically adapt easily in difficult situations, shrewd and impulsive. Mood centers in doom and invincibility."
- Malevolent Antisocial (Including Sadistic and Paranoid features)
- Official Description: "Belligerent, mordant, rancorous, vicious, sadistic, malignant, brutal, resentful; anticipates betrayal and punishment; desires revenge; truculent, callous, fearless; guiltless; many dangerous criminals, including serial killers."
- Covetous Antisocial (Including Negativistic Features)
- Official Description: "Rapacious, begrudging, discontentedly yearning; hostile and domineering; envious, avaricious; pleasures more in taking than in having."
- Risk-Taking Antisocial (Including Histrionic Features)
- Official Description: "Dauntless, venturesome, intrepid, bold, audacious, daring; reckless, foolhardy, heedless; unfazed by hazard; pursues perilous ventures."
- Reputation-Defending Antisocial (Including Narcissistic Features)
- Official Description: "Needs to be thought of as infallible, unbreakable, indomitable, formidable, inviolable; intransigent when status is questioned; overreactive to slights."
9 Subtypes of Psychopathy
- Unprincipled Psychopath (Including Narcissistic Traits)
- Description: "Stays out of legal boundaries, expresses indifference to the well-being of others, doesn't experience remorse when exploiting others for personal gain, exhibits arrogance, has a dishonest social style, concerned about how relationships benefit them rather than the other party."
- Underhand/Furtive Psychopath (Including Histrionic Traits)
- Description: "Wears a sociable and pleasant mask to hide impulsive, resentful, aggressive, and unconfident tendencies. Commonly displays bad temper towards people close to them. Attention seeking, sensation seeking, short term enthusiasm, seductive behavior, and maintaining of superficial relationships"
- Risk-Taking Psychopath (Including Antisocial and Histrionic Traits)
- Description: "Takes unnecessary risks for stimulation rather than risk/benefit ratio. Reckless, and insensitive to situations that would make others feel in danger."
- Greedy Psychopath (Unsure, probably Narcissistic Traits)
- Description: "Feels shorted by life, and feels they haven't been given what they deserve in life, while others have been given too much. Motivated by a desire to make up for what they're been shorted in life. Commits criminal acts to fill an emptiness in their lives"
- Weak Psychopath (Including Dependent and Avoidant Traits)
- Description: "Deeply insecure and cowardly, the weak psychopath paradoxically harms others to hide their own feelings of weakness. Constantly bluffing about true level of courage, essentially living a lie. Possibly completely aware of their own weakness."
- Explosive Psychopath (Including Anger Issues)
- Description: "Noteworthy for unpredictable outbursts of rage and hostility. Sudden eruptions of anger and emotion stem from feelings of being threatened, and frustration."
- Harsh/Rough Psychopath (Confontational, Negativistic)
- Description: "Always willing to fight, vent annoyance, and start confrontations with others. Overreacts to small mishaps, and lives in bitter struggle with others. Lacking in remorse and awareness of the discomfort they cause others. Passive-aggressive, enjoys arguments with others to humiliate the other person."
- Malevolent Psychopath (Vindictive)
- Description: "Particularly vindictive and hostile. Impulse driven, expressing said impulses through destructive and rebellious acts against social norms. Distrusting of others, and anticipating of being backstabbed or punished, they've acquired a callous cruelty, strong desire to even the score against real or perceived mistreatment from childhood. Has a propensity for picking on and attacking those they'd like to destroy"
- Tyrannical Psychopath (Abusive)
- Description: "Threatening, Cruel, Abusive, Destructive. The cruelest of the 9 types, derives pleasure in conquering those who are weak with power, violence, or any means necessary."
(If the hyperlinked sources are broken, please let me know)
2021.11.01 18:48 ProlapsePatrick Millon's 9 Subtypes of Psychopathy and 5 Subtypes of ASPD - An Overview
In order to better understand ASPD/Psychopathy for both NTs, those who suspect they may have one of the following disorders, or those professionally diagnosed, I'd like to introduce you all to the Millon Subtypes, in a condensed and easy to reference overview:
submitted by ProlapsePatrick to sociopath [link] [comments]
5 Subtypes of ASPD:
- Nomadic Antisocial (Including Schizoid and Avoidant Features)
- Official Description: "Drifters; roamers, vagrants; adventurer, itinerant vagabonds, tramps, wanderers; they typically adapt easily in difficult situations, shrewd and impulsive. Mood centers in doom and invincibility."
- Malevolent Antisocial (Including Sadistic and Paranoid features)
- Official Description: "Belligerent, mordant, rancorous, vicious, sadistic, malignant, brutal, resentful; anticipates betrayal and punishment; desires revenge; truculent, callous, fearless; guiltless; many dangerous criminals, including serial killers."
- Covetous Antisocial (Including Negativistic Features)
- Official Description: "Rapacious, begrudging, discontentedly yearning; hostile and domineering; envious, avaricious; pleasures more in taking than in having."
- Risk-Taking Antisocial (Including Histrionic Features)
- Official Description: "Dauntless, venturesome, intrepid, bold, audacious, daring; reckless, foolhardy, heedless; unfazed by hazard; pursues perilous ventures."
- Reputation-Defending Antisocial (Including Narcissistic Features)
- Official Description: "Needs to be thought of as infallible, unbreakable, indomitable, formidable, inviolable; intransigent when status is questioned; overreactive to slights."
9 Subtypes of Psychopathy
- Unprincipled Psychopath (Including Narcissistic Traits)
- Description: "Stays out of legal boundaries, expresses indifference to the well-being of others, doesn't experience remorse when exploiting others for personal gain, exhibits arrogance, has a dishonest social style, concerned about how relationships benefit them rather than the other party."
- Underhand/Furtive Psychopath (Including Histrionic Traits)
- Description: "Wears a sociable and pleasant mask to hide impulsive, resentful, aggressive, and unconfident tendencies. Commonly displays bad temper towards people close to them. Attention seeking, sensation seeking, short term enthusiasm, seductive behavior, and maintaining of superficial relationships"
- Risk-Taking Psychopath (Including Antisocial and Histrionic Traits)
- Description: "Takes unnecessary risks for stimulation rather than risk/benefit ratio. Reckless, and insensitive to situations that would make others feel in danger."
- Greedy Psychopath (Unsure, probably Narcissistic Traits)
- Description: "Feels shorted by life, and feels they haven't been given what they deserve in life, while others have been given too much. Motivated by a desire to make up for what they're been shorted in life. Commits criminal acts to fill an emptiness in their lives"
- Weak Psychopath (Including Dependent and Avoidant Traits)
- Description: "Deeply insecure and cowardly, the weak psychopath paradoxically harms others to hide their own feelings of weakness. Constantly bluffing about true level of courage, essentially living a lie. Possibly completely aware of their own weakness."
- Explosive Psychopath (Including Anger Issues)
- Description: "Noteworthy for unpredictable outbursts of rage and hostility. Sudden eruptions of anger and emotion stem from feelings of being threatened, and frustration."
- Harsh/Rough Psychopath (Confontational, Negativistic)
- Description: "Always willing to fight, vent annoyance, and start confrontations with others. Overreacts to small mishaps, and lives in bitter struggle with others. Lacking in remorse and awareness of the discomfort they cause others. Passive-aggressive, enjoys arguments with others to humiliate the other person."
- Malevolent Psychopath (Vindictive)
- Description: "Particularly vindictive and hostile. Impulse driven, expressing said impulses through destructive and rebellious acts against social norms. Distrusting of others, and anticipating of being backstabbed or punished, they've acquired a callous cruelty, strong desire to even the score against real or perceived mistreatment from childhood. Has a propensity for picking on and attacking those they'd like to destroy"
- Tyrannical Psychopath (Abusive)
- Description: "Threatening, Cruel, Abusive, Destructive. The cruelest of the 9 types, derives pleasure in conquering those who are weak with power, violence, or any means necessary."
2021.07.12 04:43 Ramtide PRELUDE: Howdy Neighbor!
Ramtidings, dear friends. It is I, your dutiful lord and master, the eternal GM. It has been many a moon and mile since last we've convened here together, and I apologize, as always, for my protracted leave of absence. As of this moment, however, I have found myself in a lull between my real world duties, and with this free time on my hand, I have decided to commit once more to the page another TAAAAAALE FROM THE TABLETOP, for your listening pleasure. Boy howdy did I miss you ReddX nerds. This one I lovingly subtitle Kurt McGurk's Butt Gets Hurt
This story takes place in the highlands of north-central New Mexico. After many years on the road, fortune would have it that some friends of mine had a couch whereupon I could rest my weary head. Tired of the road and the backpacker's life, I took them up on the offer, and made my way there by way of the I-40 from flagstaff due heast. I eventually arrived upon their doorstep, and settled in to the domicile I would call my home until further notice.
I was not the only middle-aged man-child in that apartment. My friends were also giant nerds. Their usual game of choice was Magic, and this was all well and good. I'd play cards with them, watch their animes, read their comics, but it was all lackluster to the hobby of hobbies that always lurked as an itch of mine desiring a good scatch: the mighty tabletop. It was only a matter of time before I broke word to my two friends-now-roommates that I wanted to run a game of Fallout. Having been the one to have cultured their prolific Magic addiction several years ago, this suggestion was met with much excitement. My choice in nerdery was par excellence, and they knew I would host a game worthy of legend and memory.
There was a catch, however. Our number was only 3 - myself, the GM, and my two roommates. This is simply not enough. I informed them, then, that if they could recruit a third member to our party, I would begin the game promptly the following Sunday. I gave them a link to the rulebook we would be using, and informed them to roll characters, and that if they had any questions, they should ask me, and I would gladly help them work through whatever problems they were having. And so our initial party was set.
Ramtide - Your dutiful lord and master, the eternal GM, road-pirate extraordinaire, tendie afficionado.
Mt. Fuji - A massive, towering idiot of a man-child who felt it only appropriate to roll a super mutant stand-in of himself, and my best friend in the state of New Mexico
Thomas Jefferson - A charismatic orator and gunslinger, and my other roommate, who admittedly, is an antisocial shutin and thinks firearms should be universally banned.
Our gruesome twosome set to work making their characters, and I pondered just who might turn up as our illustrious third. It wasn't long however, until an opportunity to fill that vacant slot presented itself. Thomas Jefferson would often invite our next door neighbor over to come smoke his weed and play FIFA.He was a lanky skellington of a man, his face riddled with acne scars. The stench of stale cigarettes and onions pervaded his pitiable form. When he wasn't busy playing FIFA or smoking TJ's weed, he would awkwardly follow around TJ's girlfriend and try to make small talk, but was never able to make eye contact. The type of guy to ask you to please respond after an awkward silence. While not as deep into the positive spectrum of nerdity like our merry household, he was certainly on SOME spectrum, and it made me ponder whether or not I ought to invite him to our tabletop. Thomas Jefferson, however, beat me to the punch one morning over a stoned match of FIFA, and our neighbor agreed to come participate. Like the others, I gave him the rulebook and my phone number, and informed him that should need be, he could always ask me to help him fill in his character sheet. He seemed excited, genuinely enthusiastic that we were opening up to him and inviting him to come hang out and play tabletop with us. Maybe I could forge a dungeon delver out of this rough-cut diamond, I mused.
With our game set, the week whittled away as I drafted campaign notes and worked, all eyes set upon that coming Sunday. I heard nothing from my players as the week wore on, and assumed then that they had managed to successfully draft up characters of their own without my assistance.
At long last, Sunday morning rolled around, and I crawled out of my bed and down to the living room, enjoying a fresh cup of morning coffee. Thomas Jefferson was stuck at work that morning, so it was just Mt. Fuji and myself in the house, poking around as we waited for game time. We filled the morning talking a little bit about the campaign we were about to undergo, and I reviewed Fuji's character sheet one last time to make sure it was up to snuff. Everything looked good. Eventually, Thomas Jefferson got home from work, cleaned up, and adjourned down in the living room with his dice and sheet as well, and we waited. It was 5 minutes to game time, and our neighbor had not arrived.
I nudged Thomas Jefferson - after all, our neighbor was predominantly his friend - and asked him if he wanted to go and rouse our third player. Perhaps he had forgotten what time we were supposed to convene, these things happen. Thomas got up from his seat, went next door, and knocked. He didn't return until almost 20 minutes later with our neighbor in tow, admittedly glassy eyed and stumbly. He had been day drinking this morning and passed out. Fairly typical, considering what I had seen of him,
He came in and sat down at the table with us with a "sup, guys", and beamed around at everyone in his mental fog. I asked if he was ready for the game to begin.
Neighbor: Uhm, well, yeah. But, can you help me with my character real quick?
Ramtide: Of course. What have ya got for me?
He just shrugged and looked at me expectantly. He had prepared nothing. He hadn't put one single iota of thought into making one. He hadn't even tried. I don't even think he looked at the rulebook, in retrospect. 20 minutes late to the session, with no character, and not so much as even a concept of what he wanted to play.I glowered a bit as I debated just what to do. Eventually, Mt. Fuji and Thomas Jefferson decided to go watch some anime while I walked our neighbor through the process of character creation.
Let us give this lad the name of his character, as is our standard naming convention...
Kurt McGurk - an obese human in a mobility scooter with a penchant for fixing things up, and our rather strange raging alcoholic of a next door neighbor.
He insisted on this backstory - Kurt had been foraging the ruins of a derelict supermarket, when a shelf full of canned lard fell on top of him, pinning him to the ground where he lay. Unable to move and subsequently trapped, he sustained himself on the cans of lard that had fallen about him. Slowly and steadily, his bulk grew in size, until he had grown so massive that the shelf shifted off from atop him, freeing him from this miserable death trap. However, he had grown so massive from consuming so much lard that his mobility was severely impaired. He crawled about the abandoned supermarket, until he found an old mobility scooter, and by whatever small luck he had, managed to make it function once again. Now, he rode across the wasteland astride his mobility scooter that he dubbed his trusty steed, searching the ruins of various grocery stores to sustain his ever increasing girth.
I was highly amused at the idea of this colorful character. At the same time, however, I knew that this would cause complications in the greater scheme of him playing. There aren't any wheelchair ramps out in the wasteland, you know. OSHA isn't going to write you a citation for making your dungeon of despair inaccessible to the handicapped. Despite my objections, he absolutely insisted, and I eventually caved. I gave his character concept my seal of approval, and started trying to walk him through the rest of character creation. After several lengthy minutes of explaining how to allocate SPECIAL points and calculate stats, however, he looked at me helplessly before he even tried to figure it out, and asked me if I could just do it for him.
Ramtide: Bro. At least try.
Kurt: I don't get it man. Come on, just help me out here.
15 minutes late with no character. Wants to roll up a meme. Won't even try to learn the system. Do I reaally need more red flags to know this isn't going anywhere? Apparently, I do. I rolled up some stats inline with what he envisioned his character to be - a high perception, high intelligence character with low endurance and agility, proficient in repair, pilot, and science. With this final hurdle out of the way, I looked at the clock. We were an hour and a half past the point upon which I had anticipated actually beginning the session, and only just now were we ready to start.
I summoned Mt. Fuji and Thomas Jefferson back to the table. They arrived, took their seats, and I struck up with my best narrative voice, regaling them with our latest tale of intrigue while Kurt sank balls deep into his cellular device.
The year was 2277. The party had been traveling with a merchant caravan bearing east from Las Vegas to the recently taken and fortified Boulder City well within NCR territory. The dam had recently been restored to functionality and had become a trading hub and population center in the greater Mojave wasteland. Unbeknownst to its garrison, however, the drums of war were beating just across the Colorado river.
The party arrived at the outskirts of Boulder, and were given freedom to explore the merchant quarter of the city. While Thomas Jefferson and Mt. Fuji took the hint and went to go and spend their initial nest egg of caps on gear, Kurt, after having his attention jarred loose from his phone, decided to roll around the small hamlet seeking sustenance for his prodigious bulk. I decied then to lure him in with the dilapidated storefront of an old grocery store. Without missing a beat, he rolled up to the door, and after a grueling attempt at passing an Agility check to finangle his mobility scooter through the portal, he wound up inside the ruined shop. The place had long since been picked clean by locals and scavengers, but this did not deter Kurt from picking through the trash. Wanting to make his first roleplaying experience something to remember, I put a shout-out to his backstory. A single can of lard was untouched at the top of a shelf. His eyes lit up, and he immediately, proudly declared that he was going to reach for it from his perch atop his trusty steed. One failed Agility check later, and he lay pinned beneath a fallen shelf and a toppled mobility scooter, the coveted can of lard just beyond his ham-fisted grasp.
I switched over to Mt. Fuji and TJ, who had been left to roleplay to their own devices. At this announcement, Kurt interjected - "but what happened?" and I assured him that he would return to the center of attention quite soon enough. He seemed to glower at this for a bit and returned to his screen. I roleplayed their transactions for a bit, and as soon as they acquired what they deemed a sufficient amount of gear, they prepared to wander off to find their missing compatriot, Kurt. Before they could exit the town square, a barrage of gunfire erupted in the distance, and a scout came running, red faced.
Scout: We're under attack! They came from across the dam, and ----
He was cut short as a bullet shattered his skull, and viscera sprayed across the awestruck duo, Merchants abandoned their stalls, soldiers garrisoned themselves in the adjacent buildings, several legionaries appeared, and combat began. I ran through the player's sequences as the battle unfolded in the square. Thomas Jefferson had taken cover behind an overturned cart and opened fire on one legionary that menaced him thoroughly with a combat knife, while Mt. Fuji ran in to engage, swinging his hammer wildly for a miss. And then, I returned to Kurt, still pinned beneath a supermarket shelf in the grocery store.
Ramtide: The town is under attack. You hear screams and gunfire erupting from the town square, not far from your current position wherein you are pinned beneath a shelf and a toppled scooter.
Kurt looked up from his phone, asking me to repeat myself, and I did, a little more irritated than before.
Kurt: Did I get the can at least?
Ramtide: No. It's just out of your grasp.
Kurt: I'm gonna try and get the can.
Another failed agility check. I asked him if, perhaps, maybe he wanted to try and free himself from beneath the trap wherein he was pinned. He replied, naw, I'm good, and resumed his phone time. It's like pulling teeth.
Combat cycled around again, with Mt. Fuji dispatching one raider, but not before incurring some wounds of his own. TJ put a few holes in the other who was approaching him, but not before taking a fierce blow to his character's HP pool. As combat was about to circle around to Kurt again, I decided to light a fire under his ass to try to get him engaged.
Ramtide: Kurt, as you're pinned under the shelf, you hear the door to the supermarket fling wide open, and a man in what can best be described as red painted sports gear appears in the doorway, holding a pistol in his hand. He sees you pinned beneath the shelf. What do you do?
Kurt: I play dead.
He returned to his phone.
Ramtide: Okay, roll me an Outdoorsman check.
Kurt did not know how to roll dice, it seems, because he asked me to do so for him. I picked up the d100, asked him what his skill value was, and he insisted he couldn't find it as he returned to his phone. I found his pathetically low stat, rolled the dice for him, and observed the result: his roll didn't break his skill threshold. His attempt failed, and I started the legionary's turn. A hail of gunfire pelted down on the pinned fatass. I informed him that he took some damage, and he looked up incredulously.
Kurt: What do you mean? I'm playing dead.
Ramtide: I rolled for you. It wasn't a convincing act. The raider didn't buy it, and he decided to open fire on you.
Kurt: That's bullshit, man. You're just targeting me because I'm new.
I did my best to be diplomatic.
Ramtide: Bro, I rolled the dice for you. You failed to succeed on your skill check. Maybe if you roll the dice yourself next time, you might actually do better. I usually don't roll very high - call it jinxed.
Kurt did not return to his phone again, He seemed to realize that his pork avatar was in mortal danger, and wanting to protect his meme, decided to focus on the session for the first time since we had began. As combat cycled around, it came to Kurt's turn once again, and he declared this time that he was going to try to free himself from beneath the shelf under which he was trapped. I had him roll a Strength check, which, admittedly, I nerfed, because I wanted the guy to succeed, ya know? However, he still managed to fail... so I nerfed it some more and told him that he managed to break free. He spent a few more AP to stagger back onto his mobility scooter, grab a pistol of his own, and return fire, successfully wounding the raider. As the raider advanced into the grocery store, I fudged the rolls just a little bit more to let him catch up. The raider, by GM fiat, admittedly missed.
By round 3, Mt. Fuji and TJ had dispatched the few legionaries in the square, and now had doubled down to find the location of their missing companion, who managed to finally dispatch the last legionary inside the grocery store by way, once more, of a little GM fiat. With the day perceivedly won and the corpses looted, Kurt triumphantly claimed his can of lard and wheeled his bloated carcass out into the sunlit streets to find his companions. As the troops rallied, a squad of NCR troopers were making their way towards the dam to try and retake the landmark, and pressed the party into service. The mission was clear - they were to advance on the damn and secure the electrical generators inside from the advancing enemy force - a sound tactical decision.
The party advanced into a foyer of the damn and dispatched the invaders. The commanding officer briefed the strike team once the room had been cleared, remarking that the generators could be found on a lower sub-level of the superstructure, and needed to be reactivated to restore power to the dam itself, a cargo lift I threw in there specifically for Kurt, and the surrounding areas. The fastest way there, however?
Stairs.
Kurt: Now you're just targeting me, man. This isn't fucking cool.
Ramtide: I told you, right out the gate, that voluntarily handicapping yourself in the apocalypse wasn't a very good idea. I encouraged you to roll anything BUT a morbidly obese lardass on a mobility scooter, but you insisted. Now how are you going to solve this situation?
Kurt thought about this for a minute, and then stood up and ripped his character sheet in half. He flipped me off, left the house, and never returned to a subsequent tabletop session that I ran for my group.
I concluded the session with Mt. Fuji and TJ clearing the damn, and called it there, and once more lamented that we were down to two players. I told them that, as of now and into the foreseeable future, the spot was open, and that maybe they might find another who could take the game semi-seriously.
While this particular encounter with Kurt McGurk is an amusing anecdote of a game gone sour, it is not the be all end of all of my experiences with him, because, let's face it - avoiding your next door neighbor isn't an easy trick. Avoiding a spiteful inebriated wingnut of a neighbor is much more difficult. This is just a prelude, an introduction to this individual, if you will. Rest assured, friends, that it will get much, much worse. Until next time, friends.
Special thanks go out to my lovely patrons for believing in me, supporting the work I do, and who have been an absolute blessing during my travels through this uncertain and peculiar thing we call existence - specifically, Nat 1 Nick, Dayton Does, Fyredraeke, DigiNZ, and Tatoferret. My love and admiration as always to ReddX and the greater ReddX community. I've missed you nerds UwU. It's good to be back in the saddle... for now.
submitted by Ramtide to ReddXReads [link] [comments]
This story takes place in the highlands of north-central New Mexico. After many years on the road, fortune would have it that some friends of mine had a couch whereupon I could rest my weary head. Tired of the road and the backpacker's life, I took them up on the offer, and made my way there by way of the I-40 from flagstaff due heast. I eventually arrived upon their doorstep, and settled in to the domicile I would call my home until further notice.
I was not the only middle-aged man-child in that apartment. My friends were also giant nerds. Their usual game of choice was Magic, and this was all well and good. I'd play cards with them, watch their animes, read their comics, but it was all lackluster to the hobby of hobbies that always lurked as an itch of mine desiring a good scatch: the mighty tabletop. It was only a matter of time before I broke word to my two friends-now-roommates that I wanted to run a game of Fallout. Having been the one to have cultured their prolific Magic addiction several years ago, this suggestion was met with much excitement. My choice in nerdery was par excellence, and they knew I would host a game worthy of legend and memory.
There was a catch, however. Our number was only 3 - myself, the GM, and my two roommates. This is simply not enough. I informed them, then, that if they could recruit a third member to our party, I would begin the game promptly the following Sunday. I gave them a link to the rulebook we would be using, and informed them to roll characters, and that if they had any questions, they should ask me, and I would gladly help them work through whatever problems they were having. And so our initial party was set.
Ramtide - Your dutiful lord and master, the eternal GM, road-pirate extraordinaire, tendie afficionado.
Mt. Fuji - A massive, towering idiot of a man-child who felt it only appropriate to roll a super mutant stand-in of himself, and my best friend in the state of New Mexico
Thomas Jefferson - A charismatic orator and gunslinger, and my other roommate, who admittedly, is an antisocial shutin and thinks firearms should be universally banned.
Our gruesome twosome set to work making their characters, and I pondered just who might turn up as our illustrious third. It wasn't long however, until an opportunity to fill that vacant slot presented itself. Thomas Jefferson would often invite our next door neighbor over to come smoke his weed and play FIFA.He was a lanky skellington of a man, his face riddled with acne scars. The stench of stale cigarettes and onions pervaded his pitiable form. When he wasn't busy playing FIFA or smoking TJ's weed, he would awkwardly follow around TJ's girlfriend and try to make small talk, but was never able to make eye contact. The type of guy to ask you to please respond after an awkward silence. While not as deep into the positive spectrum of nerdity like our merry household, he was certainly on SOME spectrum, and it made me ponder whether or not I ought to invite him to our tabletop. Thomas Jefferson, however, beat me to the punch one morning over a stoned match of FIFA, and our neighbor agreed to come participate. Like the others, I gave him the rulebook and my phone number, and informed him that should need be, he could always ask me to help him fill in his character sheet. He seemed excited, genuinely enthusiastic that we were opening up to him and inviting him to come hang out and play tabletop with us. Maybe I could forge a dungeon delver out of this rough-cut diamond, I mused.
With our game set, the week whittled away as I drafted campaign notes and worked, all eyes set upon that coming Sunday. I heard nothing from my players as the week wore on, and assumed then that they had managed to successfully draft up characters of their own without my assistance.
At long last, Sunday morning rolled around, and I crawled out of my bed and down to the living room, enjoying a fresh cup of morning coffee. Thomas Jefferson was stuck at work that morning, so it was just Mt. Fuji and myself in the house, poking around as we waited for game time. We filled the morning talking a little bit about the campaign we were about to undergo, and I reviewed Fuji's character sheet one last time to make sure it was up to snuff. Everything looked good. Eventually, Thomas Jefferson got home from work, cleaned up, and adjourned down in the living room with his dice and sheet as well, and we waited. It was 5 minutes to game time, and our neighbor had not arrived.
I nudged Thomas Jefferson - after all, our neighbor was predominantly his friend - and asked him if he wanted to go and rouse our third player. Perhaps he had forgotten what time we were supposed to convene, these things happen. Thomas got up from his seat, went next door, and knocked. He didn't return until almost 20 minutes later with our neighbor in tow, admittedly glassy eyed and stumbly. He had been day drinking this morning and passed out. Fairly typical, considering what I had seen of him,
He came in and sat down at the table with us with a "sup, guys", and beamed around at everyone in his mental fog. I asked if he was ready for the game to begin.
Neighbor: Uhm, well, yeah. But, can you help me with my character real quick?
Ramtide: Of course. What have ya got for me?
He just shrugged and looked at me expectantly. He had prepared nothing. He hadn't put one single iota of thought into making one. He hadn't even tried. I don't even think he looked at the rulebook, in retrospect. 20 minutes late to the session, with no character, and not so much as even a concept of what he wanted to play.I glowered a bit as I debated just what to do. Eventually, Mt. Fuji and Thomas Jefferson decided to go watch some anime while I walked our neighbor through the process of character creation.
Let us give this lad the name of his character, as is our standard naming convention...
Kurt McGurk - an obese human in a mobility scooter with a penchant for fixing things up, and our rather strange raging alcoholic of a next door neighbor.
He insisted on this backstory - Kurt had been foraging the ruins of a derelict supermarket, when a shelf full of canned lard fell on top of him, pinning him to the ground where he lay. Unable to move and subsequently trapped, he sustained himself on the cans of lard that had fallen about him. Slowly and steadily, his bulk grew in size, until he had grown so massive that the shelf shifted off from atop him, freeing him from this miserable death trap. However, he had grown so massive from consuming so much lard that his mobility was severely impaired. He crawled about the abandoned supermarket, until he found an old mobility scooter, and by whatever small luck he had, managed to make it function once again. Now, he rode across the wasteland astride his mobility scooter that he dubbed his trusty steed, searching the ruins of various grocery stores to sustain his ever increasing girth.
I was highly amused at the idea of this colorful character. At the same time, however, I knew that this would cause complications in the greater scheme of him playing. There aren't any wheelchair ramps out in the wasteland, you know. OSHA isn't going to write you a citation for making your dungeon of despair inaccessible to the handicapped. Despite my objections, he absolutely insisted, and I eventually caved. I gave his character concept my seal of approval, and started trying to walk him through the rest of character creation. After several lengthy minutes of explaining how to allocate SPECIAL points and calculate stats, however, he looked at me helplessly before he even tried to figure it out, and asked me if I could just do it for him.
Ramtide: Bro. At least try.
Kurt: I don't get it man. Come on, just help me out here.
15 minutes late with no character. Wants to roll up a meme. Won't even try to learn the system. Do I reaally need more red flags to know this isn't going anywhere? Apparently, I do. I rolled up some stats inline with what he envisioned his character to be - a high perception, high intelligence character with low endurance and agility, proficient in repair, pilot, and science. With this final hurdle out of the way, I looked at the clock. We were an hour and a half past the point upon which I had anticipated actually beginning the session, and only just now were we ready to start.
I summoned Mt. Fuji and Thomas Jefferson back to the table. They arrived, took their seats, and I struck up with my best narrative voice, regaling them with our latest tale of intrigue while Kurt sank balls deep into his cellular device.
The year was 2277. The party had been traveling with a merchant caravan bearing east from Las Vegas to the recently taken and fortified Boulder City well within NCR territory. The dam had recently been restored to functionality and had become a trading hub and population center in the greater Mojave wasteland. Unbeknownst to its garrison, however, the drums of war were beating just across the Colorado river.
The party arrived at the outskirts of Boulder, and were given freedom to explore the merchant quarter of the city. While Thomas Jefferson and Mt. Fuji took the hint and went to go and spend their initial nest egg of caps on gear, Kurt, after having his attention jarred loose from his phone, decided to roll around the small hamlet seeking sustenance for his prodigious bulk. I decied then to lure him in with the dilapidated storefront of an old grocery store. Without missing a beat, he rolled up to the door, and after a grueling attempt at passing an Agility check to finangle his mobility scooter through the portal, he wound up inside the ruined shop. The place had long since been picked clean by locals and scavengers, but this did not deter Kurt from picking through the trash. Wanting to make his first roleplaying experience something to remember, I put a shout-out to his backstory. A single can of lard was untouched at the top of a shelf. His eyes lit up, and he immediately, proudly declared that he was going to reach for it from his perch atop his trusty steed. One failed Agility check later, and he lay pinned beneath a fallen shelf and a toppled mobility scooter, the coveted can of lard just beyond his ham-fisted grasp.
I switched over to Mt. Fuji and TJ, who had been left to roleplay to their own devices. At this announcement, Kurt interjected - "but what happened?" and I assured him that he would return to the center of attention quite soon enough. He seemed to glower at this for a bit and returned to his screen. I roleplayed their transactions for a bit, and as soon as they acquired what they deemed a sufficient amount of gear, they prepared to wander off to find their missing compatriot, Kurt. Before they could exit the town square, a barrage of gunfire erupted in the distance, and a scout came running, red faced.
Scout: We're under attack! They came from across the dam, and ----
He was cut short as a bullet shattered his skull, and viscera sprayed across the awestruck duo, Merchants abandoned their stalls, soldiers garrisoned themselves in the adjacent buildings, several legionaries appeared, and combat began. I ran through the player's sequences as the battle unfolded in the square. Thomas Jefferson had taken cover behind an overturned cart and opened fire on one legionary that menaced him thoroughly with a combat knife, while Mt. Fuji ran in to engage, swinging his hammer wildly for a miss. And then, I returned to Kurt, still pinned beneath a supermarket shelf in the grocery store.
Ramtide: The town is under attack. You hear screams and gunfire erupting from the town square, not far from your current position wherein you are pinned beneath a shelf and a toppled scooter.
Kurt looked up from his phone, asking me to repeat myself, and I did, a little more irritated than before.
Kurt: Did I get the can at least?
Ramtide: No. It's just out of your grasp.
Kurt: I'm gonna try and get the can.
Another failed agility check. I asked him if, perhaps, maybe he wanted to try and free himself from beneath the trap wherein he was pinned. He replied, naw, I'm good, and resumed his phone time. It's like pulling teeth.
Combat cycled around again, with Mt. Fuji dispatching one raider, but not before incurring some wounds of his own. TJ put a few holes in the other who was approaching him, but not before taking a fierce blow to his character's HP pool. As combat was about to circle around to Kurt again, I decided to light a fire under his ass to try to get him engaged.
Ramtide: Kurt, as you're pinned under the shelf, you hear the door to the supermarket fling wide open, and a man in what can best be described as red painted sports gear appears in the doorway, holding a pistol in his hand. He sees you pinned beneath the shelf. What do you do?
Kurt: I play dead.
He returned to his phone.
Ramtide: Okay, roll me an Outdoorsman check.
Kurt did not know how to roll dice, it seems, because he asked me to do so for him. I picked up the d100, asked him what his skill value was, and he insisted he couldn't find it as he returned to his phone. I found his pathetically low stat, rolled the dice for him, and observed the result: his roll didn't break his skill threshold. His attempt failed, and I started the legionary's turn. A hail of gunfire pelted down on the pinned fatass. I informed him that he took some damage, and he looked up incredulously.
Kurt: What do you mean? I'm playing dead.
Ramtide: I rolled for you. It wasn't a convincing act. The raider didn't buy it, and he decided to open fire on you.
Kurt: That's bullshit, man. You're just targeting me because I'm new.
I did my best to be diplomatic.
Ramtide: Bro, I rolled the dice for you. You failed to succeed on your skill check. Maybe if you roll the dice yourself next time, you might actually do better. I usually don't roll very high - call it jinxed.
Kurt did not return to his phone again, He seemed to realize that his pork avatar was in mortal danger, and wanting to protect his meme, decided to focus on the session for the first time since we had began. As combat cycled around, it came to Kurt's turn once again, and he declared this time that he was going to try to free himself from beneath the shelf under which he was trapped. I had him roll a Strength check, which, admittedly, I nerfed, because I wanted the guy to succeed, ya know? However, he still managed to fail... so I nerfed it some more and told him that he managed to break free. He spent a few more AP to stagger back onto his mobility scooter, grab a pistol of his own, and return fire, successfully wounding the raider. As the raider advanced into the grocery store, I fudged the rolls just a little bit more to let him catch up. The raider, by GM fiat, admittedly missed.
By round 3, Mt. Fuji and TJ had dispatched the few legionaries in the square, and now had doubled down to find the location of their missing companion, who managed to finally dispatch the last legionary inside the grocery store by way, once more, of a little GM fiat. With the day perceivedly won and the corpses looted, Kurt triumphantly claimed his can of lard and wheeled his bloated carcass out into the sunlit streets to find his companions. As the troops rallied, a squad of NCR troopers were making their way towards the dam to try and retake the landmark, and pressed the party into service. The mission was clear - they were to advance on the damn and secure the electrical generators inside from the advancing enemy force - a sound tactical decision.
The party advanced into a foyer of the damn and dispatched the invaders. The commanding officer briefed the strike team once the room had been cleared, remarking that the generators could be found on a lower sub-level of the superstructure, and needed to be reactivated to restore power to the dam itself, a cargo lift I threw in there specifically for Kurt, and the surrounding areas. The fastest way there, however?
Stairs.
Kurt: Now you're just targeting me, man. This isn't fucking cool.
Ramtide: I told you, right out the gate, that voluntarily handicapping yourself in the apocalypse wasn't a very good idea. I encouraged you to roll anything BUT a morbidly obese lardass on a mobility scooter, but you insisted. Now how are you going to solve this situation?
Kurt thought about this for a minute, and then stood up and ripped his character sheet in half. He flipped me off, left the house, and never returned to a subsequent tabletop session that I ran for my group.
I concluded the session with Mt. Fuji and TJ clearing the damn, and called it there, and once more lamented that we were down to two players. I told them that, as of now and into the foreseeable future, the spot was open, and that maybe they might find another who could take the game semi-seriously.
While this particular encounter with Kurt McGurk is an amusing anecdote of a game gone sour, it is not the be all end of all of my experiences with him, because, let's face it - avoiding your next door neighbor isn't an easy trick. Avoiding a spiteful inebriated wingnut of a neighbor is much more difficult. This is just a prelude, an introduction to this individual, if you will. Rest assured, friends, that it will get much, much worse. Until next time, friends.
Special thanks go out to my lovely patrons for believing in me, supporting the work I do, and who have been an absolute blessing during my travels through this uncertain and peculiar thing we call existence - specifically, Nat 1 Nick, Dayton Does, Fyredraeke, DigiNZ, and Tatoferret. My love and admiration as always to ReddX and the greater ReddX community. I've missed you nerds UwU. It's good to be back in the saddle... for now.
2021.07.07 19:59 Suhkein [Hourou Musuko] Saori Chiba: Wandering the Second Mile
"...and then she strove to be contended with that hardness, and to require nothing. That is the path we all like when we set out on our abandonment of egoism - the path of martyrdom and endurance, where the palm branches grow, rather than the steep highway of tolerance, just allowance, and self-blame, where there are no leafy honours to be gathered and worn." -George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss
I recall the precise moment I fell in love with Hourou Musuko. It was Saori Chiba in the empty church, asking with tender conceitedness for what she believes she wants but by providence has been denied:
The story that follows is not a heroic journey. It is a mundane one. The beginning is not infamy and the end not apotheosis; it is no Pilgrim’s Progress. Saori Chiba is nothing more and nothing less than an adolescent little girl at a critical time in her life. This, however, is the strength of Hourou Musuko; it is humanizing rather than archetypal, and there is a quiet power in how it appreciates its characters just as they are. I hope to borrow a little of that here.
Not Nitori. She could never hate Nitori. Her first introduction is unequivocal on this point: ignoring all decorum or subtlety, she will smite those who threaten him. He is a pure, special person and those who would harm such a soul deserve swift judgement at her hands. Knowing that they would not accept his true self only heightens her vigilant anger. Childish, obnoxious, and unkind, she hates them all.
...I won’t do anything weird this time…
There is one among these, though, who kindles a special ire: Takatsuki. Capable and cool, she is admired by everybody. Not only this, but despite all the positive regard she receives Takatsuki is not conceited about any of it. She is simply kind and is willing to put her good nature to work for others[2] . At least, that’s what everybody sees. Saori, though, knows the truth. Takatsuki is just nice because her circumstances have made it easy; if she wasn’t so blithely easy-going and everybody didn’t treat her well that attitude would vanish. That she leads Nitori on, going on dates and dressing up together, shows how insincere she truly is. She should stop messing around so Nitori can choose somebody else. Having everything but not deserving it, Saori really hates Takatsuki.
...it’s not fair…
Yet for some reason Nitori is still friends with Takatsuki, still has feelings for her even. Well, Saori will show Nitori what it means to love and support properly. When the class vote for the cultural festival comes up, she will have the courage to volunteer in front of everybody a genderbent play. It might not be the story that she wants, but it is surely the one Nitori desires, and since he cannot risk asking for himself she will do it in his stead. Unlike others, she will sacrifice for those she cares about. That’s really what she hates: when people can’t get over themselves.
...you’re a boy...
Now, at last, she has Nitori all to herself as they write the script together. Just like she wanted…and just like what he must have wanted too. How could he not enjoy spending time with her after all she’s done for him? If only their idiot teacher Saisho didn’t ask for more volunteers to join them. How could he be so utterly oblivious to how other people felt? She isn’t sure if he’s even worth hating or just holding in contempt, turning her face away as he speaks so he knows just how poorly she regards his pretense at being helpful.
And all this righteousness makes Saori Chiba the most unhappy character in the cast.
What is Saori’s problem? Takatsuki doesn’t get it. She knows that Saori loves Nitori, and that his choice caused a rift between them, but she had hoped that maybe in time things would cool down. After all, it’s not like she’s dating Nitori; her refusal should have diffused the situation, not inflamed it. Yet for some reason Saori’s anger has not abated. By happenstance finding herself alone with Saori, Takatsuki tries again:
This is the chance Takatsuki has needed. An offhanded comment like that about one’s own ability is obviously begging to be generously contradicted. Everybody likes positive regard, and by directing attention away from herself and lavishing it on Saori it’s the perfect way to show she doesn’t hold a grudge. The praise isn’t empty either; Saori really is talented, and while Takatsuki may have played it up a little much, not being much of an actress herself, she honestly does believe what she says. Naturally Saori will see this.
Saori pauses again to carefully scrutinize Takatsuki’s reaction to what she has just said. Despite her pretense, the mirror reveals that a slight blush has appeared on her cheeks. Then she then averts her gaze… unhappily. Takatsuki draws the natural conclusion: maybe Saori just doesn’t believe her. Insincere words would be cruel after all, and Takatsuki can understand getting angry over that:
The book that Saori struck the jeering boy with was Anne of Green Gables, a story about an orphan girl who is sent to a farm on accident in place of a boy. Anne is an unconventional child, and though intelligent and sensitive is nonetheless proud and quick-tempered: when Gilbert Blythe touches a nerve she retaliates by bringing her school writing slate down on his head. Despite these trials, though, she is eventually able to win over the hearts of everybody by her own spirited disposition and innate goodness.
Saori Chiba is living out such a story in her own head, her own personal drama of which she is author and star actress. Its heroine’s principle virtue? Selflessness in the service of love. Anne merely struck Blythe for herself, but Saori did so to protect Nitori. She really does love him as dearly as a twelve year old girl can, and it is this trait that Saori is counting on to redeem her heroine and bring the narrative to a happy conclusion. Otherwise, there is a problem with her script: the main character is jealous, judgemental, unforgiving, and projects all her worst traits onto those around her.
In turn, these implacable feelings have been the cause of all her problems. Saisho invited others to join in the script writing only because of her uncommunicative condescension, mistaking it for a lack of progress; it was she who ultimately robbed herself of her time alone with Nitori. Similarly, she was in the wrong with the upperclassmen. Having erected a barrier of pride to hide her shame, she was too busy defending it to give them a simple courtesy. Confronted, she doubles down, lying about it because her act of aloofness is too important to surrender. This causes her to become even more mortified by her weakness, which necessitates yet more compensatory pride, feeding on itself until she has trapped herself, all so that none may notice her appalling vulnerability.
As for the one who has tried hardest to be a true friend to her, she can tolerate her least of all. Takatsuki not only has everything Saori wants - a kind spirit, positive regard, and Nitori’s affection - her existence undermines the narrative that Saori is a victim and everybody else is just lucky. She wants to believe that if their places were reversed Takatsuki would be just as spiteful, and she will cite as proof the one time she pushed Takatsuki too far. If the object of her envy-unto-hate hates her back, she need not feel guilty about her unwillingness to make up. Clearly the feeling’s mutual. But she knows that’s not true either, and she can only watch with hidden yearning as Takatsuki responds to her animosity with incomprehension.[3] . Not only does this person have generosity to spare, she doesn’t even recognize it as special. How can Saori ever match that in Nitori’s eyes?
Nitori. The golden idol of her world, she lays sacrifices at his feet in hopes of a blessing. She may find her own character revolting but at least she can count on this one shaft of light to illuminate her, and if only she can devote herself enough to her pure love she can use it to leave behind the rest of her worthless nature. Renunciation will be her salvation. But - and this is a truth that even Saori has not perceived in herself - she is merely exalting what comes easy: being forceful in the service of her narrow passions.
In compensation, Saori has tried to ignore all her muddy feelings about the matter. She doesn’t want a genderbent play, she doesn’t want Nitori to dress up in girls’ clothes, she doesn’t want him to be… her, really. But she’ll prove she at least has the redeeming quality that she can repress her selfish desires for love… and then she loses control. Again. Her offering of clothes is not for him, it is for her; she wears a false smile as she does so, desperate to make him happy so that she can convince herself she is doing good and be happy too. Also… perhaps… just maybe… get him to lose interest in Takatsuki… and so not want to be a girl either… And when these attempts to give of herself do not yield the results she desires it calls forth her ugliest demons:
Saori doesn’t attend her church, a fact remarked on more than once. It is a symptom of a larger issue: Saori is isolating herself out of egotism. She knows what she needs and she doesn’t need any of them; her own efforts will be enough. When she does eventually achieve her goal it will prove that she was right all along, the full measure of her quality being revealed in how she overcame her flaws and found her happy future.
Yet this very choice is what is blocking her path. She imagines her efforts will produce humility and sacrifice, but the self-hatred and self-abandonment she is utilizing are only a facsimile of virtue, indulged in because they are easy and, in a paradoxical way, make her feel better by proving she has lofty aspirations. That they have done nothing to improve her situation has her attempting to dignify them as though she were the victim of a grand romantic tragedy, her very own Romeo and Juliet. A perfect love will be thwarted by the world and the protagonist will reject it back in contempt and retribution: she will play the pariah, insist on reminding others of her misery, and wish for everybody to meet an unhappy fate, all in the service of her righteous outrage.
…but she is not that far gone. She still stared with longing at others and their fireworks, just a child after all who desperately wants to feel loved but cannot because of her own folly.
So let Saisho be improved so that she may benefit, but blight him to satisfy her spite. Let Nitori be happy because she loves him, and let it be remembered that she was willing to petition for this despite how she feels. And please take from Takatsuki…
Saori pauses in her prayer, looking downwardly inward, knowing what she asks comes at the expense of another but wanting it too much to be able to overcome herself. The screen goes black; this is too intimate, far far too intimate, to show. With eyes closed the lines are spoken not by the lips but in that inner cavity where we find ourselves resting when there are no distractions, she asks of higher powers what she otherwise believes is impossible and doubts she even deserves:
Please, let her story be happy.
For Saori, her love and her self-denigration had worked together to promote a blinding justification for her behavior. But behind this front a problem had been gathering strength. In her story of self-sacrifice she had always counted on one thing: that if she could only achieve for Nitori his happiness she would find her own as well. That would be her way out of her dilemma, to keep giving herself up until the conflict between her desires and his disappeared. That’s how the plot will work out if she’s good enough to warrant it. And yet…
But it didn’t make her Nitori’s beloved. When given a chance to express himself he said exactly what she didn’t want to hear. In working together and deepening his bonds with others it made him ever more distant from herself. And though she has everybody’s applause it isn’t enough to fill the hole at the center of her being. All of her hopes still remain pinned on his coming around to her dream eventually, that he will give up being a girl for her sake like she has intimated she would do anything for him. Maybe it didn’t happen this act, but the next one perhaps. Next time she will prove worthy his affection, as worthy as any boy, as worthy as Takats...
…or maybe, it isn’t that Nitori doesn’t love girls, but just that he doesn’t love her, and that nothing she can do will change that.
What a little actress.
Saori may never joke, but she says (and does) plenty which is absurd enough to be comedic. And as always, she knows it. With the last line she averts her eyes from everything but her pillow, staring inward at how dramatic she is being. This may seem to be owning up to her faults at last but that is only a mirage. It’s what the self-pity is there for, to save her from that. If she can just swaddle herself in petulant surety that she is not who she wishes and cannot have what she desires, then she can give free reign to her unhappiness. Make herself the victim of circumstance again and let other people try to cheer her up so she can refuse. Though one reflection slips through:
Despite its billing, I am reluctant to characterize Hourou Musuko as an LGBT show; that indicates it is applicable to only a subset of humanity. This sells it short. Gender issues are its central vehicle, but compassion for all is where it is trying to take us. And compassion begins with self-compassion, for as Saori learned, abuse of the self inevitably turns to the abuse of others, and a souring of relationships in expectation of reward. I have great hope for people like her, though - their struggles often grant them a self-knowledge that is denied those who have not wrestled with their angel, and hers has not inconsiderable strength. As was remarked about another rather quarrelsome anime heroine, “That young lady will definitely grow up to be a beauty.” I think that will be the case here too.
In her last scene alone with Nitori we are able to glimpse where she is going. They are in her room again, and as before she offers her dresses to wear. However, the urgency is gone; she no longer desperately needs to please him to satisfy herself. And as she walks over to pick up the hair extension, that piece which more clearly than any signifies helping him transition away from her imagined future, she pauses. A look of sadness steals over her face as what she is doing sinks in, threatening a return of all the anger at the unfairness. Why is it her dream and not his that must be sacrificed? Then she closes her eyes in proper orison before standing, smiling for Nitori’s sake as she turns to face him again. It isn’t the prayed-for prize she has won; the tears are barely restrained as she feels what she wanted so dearly slipping away. But it is something more valuable, and for the first time, as she lays her head on his, she is free to love him without reserve, and though no chorus of angels will sing her praises, there can be no doubt who was singing “For You” all along:
submitted by Suhkein to anime [link] [comments]
“Dear God, please bless that idiot Saisho with some brains, and a pox. And let Nitori be Juliet. And instead of Takatsuki… (Pause) ...let me be Romeo.”With a few brushstrokes, a couple of lines and the right setting, Saori’s character is laid bare. At first her words would seem to be an indictment, but the gentle notes playing in the background say otherwise: there is pity for this poor sinner who has come to pray unwittingly for more grief. She is so lost she does not even know what to ask for. With this, commentary becomes sympathy, and we are reminded that the point of Hourou Musuko is not just to understand people, but to understand them for the right reasons.
The story that follows is not a heroic journey. It is a mundane one. The beginning is not infamy and the end not apotheosis; it is no Pilgrim’s Progress. Saori Chiba is nothing more and nothing less than an adolescent little girl at a critical time in her life. This, however, is the strength of Hourou Musuko; it is humanizing rather than archetypal, and there is a quiet power in how it appreciates its characters just as they are. I hope to borrow a little of that here.
Cursing Those That Bless You
“It was a lot of fun, at first. The three of us going to school together, taking pictures together, just Nitori and me… and Takatsuki. I was the first to notice that Nitori was meant to dress like a girl. And yet, before I knew it, Takatsuki was the one perpetually at his side. Then I noticed things getting awkward between them… but before I could blink, they’d patched things up. I hate... - Saori ChibaSaori was the first one to be aware of Nitori’s deepest desires. She was always paying attention to his[1,pronouns] needs, ready to act on them, support them. She loves him, single-mindedly and without reserve, and it should be obvious to anyone that she has first claim on Nitori’s affection in return… and then he chose Takatsuki. She hates…
Not Nitori. She could never hate Nitori. Her first introduction is unequivocal on this point: ignoring all decorum or subtlety, she will smite those who threaten him. He is a pure, special person and those who would harm such a soul deserve swift judgement at her hands. Knowing that they would not accept his true self only heightens her vigilant anger. Childish, obnoxious, and unkind, she hates them all.
...I won’t do anything weird this time…
There is one among these, though, who kindles a special ire: Takatsuki. Capable and cool, she is admired by everybody. Not only this, but despite all the positive regard she receives Takatsuki is not conceited about any of it. She is simply kind and is willing to put her good nature to work for others[2] . At least, that’s what everybody sees. Saori, though, knows the truth. Takatsuki is just nice because her circumstances have made it easy; if she wasn’t so blithely easy-going and everybody didn’t treat her well that attitude would vanish. That she leads Nitori on, going on dates and dressing up together, shows how insincere she truly is. She should stop messing around so Nitori can choose somebody else. Having everything but not deserving it, Saori really hates Takatsuki.
...it’s not fair…
Yet for some reason Nitori is still friends with Takatsuki, still has feelings for her even. Well, Saori will show Nitori what it means to love and support properly. When the class vote for the cultural festival comes up, she will have the courage to volunteer in front of everybody a genderbent play. It might not be the story that she wants, but it is surely the one Nitori desires, and since he cannot risk asking for himself she will do it in his stead. Unlike others, she will sacrifice for those she cares about. That’s really what she hates: when people can’t get over themselves.
...you’re a boy...
Now, at last, she has Nitori all to herself as they write the script together. Just like she wanted…and just like what he must have wanted too. How could he not enjoy spending time with her after all she’s done for him? If only their idiot teacher Saisho didn’t ask for more volunteers to join them. How could he be so utterly oblivious to how other people felt? She isn’t sure if he’s even worth hating or just holding in contempt, turning her face away as he speaks so he knows just how poorly she regards his pretense at being helpful.
And all this righteousness makes Saori Chiba the most unhappy character in the cast.
Takatsuki: “I heard the drama club wants Nitori.” Saori: “Yes, I know. They approached me too.” (Flatly) Takatsuki: “What?! Amazing! It makes sense, though. You’re an amazing actress. It’s amazing how talented you both are.”If you’re going to get Saori’s attention, start with Nitori. She won’t ignore you then. However, Saori won’t give her rival the the pleasure of being the bearer of good news, and replies with a dismissive casualness that robs any joy from the messenger… only to add just as lifelessly that she was considered too.
This is the chance Takatsuki has needed. An offhanded comment like that about one’s own ability is obviously begging to be generously contradicted. Everybody likes positive regard, and by directing attention away from herself and lavishing it on Saori it’s the perfect way to show she doesn’t hold a grudge. The praise isn’t empty either; Saori really is talented, and while Takatsuki may have played it up a little much, not being much of an actress herself, she honestly does believe what she says. Naturally Saori will see this.
Saori: “How can you throw around the word ‘amazing’ like that?” Takatsuki: “Huh?”Throughout the praise Saori had merely watched Takatsuki speak, remaining facing toward the mirror with only a spare glance for the other person. Now in rebuttal she turns a quarter turn with her head only, enough to let Takatsuki know she is being spoken to but without giving her the dignity of being fully acknowledged. Takatsuki, this whole while facing Saori properly, just as is her character, is left disoriented as she can feel the hostility mounting again. What did she do wrong?
Saori pauses again to carefully scrutinize Takatsuki’s reaction to what she has just said. Despite her pretense, the mirror reveals that a slight blush has appeared on her cheeks. Then she then averts her gaze… unhappily. Takatsuki draws the natural conclusion: maybe Saori just doesn’t believe her. Insincere words would be cruel after all, and Takatsuki can understand getting angry over that:
Takatsuki: “Because I really do think it’s amazing!” (With renewed enthusiasm) Saori: “Let’s say you wanted to join the drama club, but Nitori and I were the only ones invited. Would you feel the same?” (Averting her eyes toward the mirror) Takatsuki: “H-Huh?” (Saori gives Takatsuki another inscrutable look then returns her eyes forward) Saori: “In other words. If you’re actually able to admire someone who can easily do the things you wish you could, that’s truly amazing. (pause) I can’t do it.” (Saori’s face creases into frustration near tears) Saori: “Though I hate to admit it.” (Seeing only her reflection in the mirror, Saori concludes) Saori: “That’s why I hate you. Sorry.”And with this she walks off stage.
Saori Chiba is living out such a story in her own head, her own personal drama of which she is author and star actress. Its heroine’s principle virtue? Selflessness in the service of love. Anne merely struck Blythe for herself, but Saori did so to protect Nitori. She really does love him as dearly as a twelve year old girl can, and it is this trait that Saori is counting on to redeem her heroine and bring the narrative to a happy conclusion. Otherwise, there is a problem with her script: the main character is jealous, judgemental, unforgiving, and projects all her worst traits onto those around her.
Saori: “As usual, [Saisho] doesn’t have a clue.” Nitori: “You’re being kind of harsh.” Saori: “No, I’m not angry with him anymore. He decided this was the best course of action after some serious deliberation. I understand why he did it. ...I’m just having trouble controlling my emotions.” Mako: “Wouldn’t that mean you’re still mad?”And the main character knows it. Saori is not Momoko, witless enough to hate whom she will without reflection. Gifted, or cursed, with an articulate and self-aware nature, Saori is left to think on all that she does. She knows her feelings toward Saisho are unjust; he’s inept, perhaps, but there can be no questioning his good intent. Yet… she can’t stem the resentment. It fills her with shame that she has so little control over her worst impulses. Mako doesn’t quite understand; it is anger... but with an asterisk, footnoted always with embarrassment and regret.
In turn, these implacable feelings have been the cause of all her problems. Saisho invited others to join in the script writing only because of her uncommunicative condescension, mistaking it for a lack of progress; it was she who ultimately robbed herself of her time alone with Nitori. Similarly, she was in the wrong with the upperclassmen. Having erected a barrier of pride to hide her shame, she was too busy defending it to give them a simple courtesy. Confronted, she doubles down, lying about it because her act of aloofness is too important to surrender. This causes her to become even more mortified by her weakness, which necessitates yet more compensatory pride, feeding on itself until she has trapped herself, all so that none may notice her appalling vulnerability.
Sasa: “Aren’t you going to eat your [ice cream]?” Saori: “I don’t have the right to be here.” (Dispirited) Sasa: “There you go again…” Saori: “It’s true.” (Pause) Saori: “I never said hello. I was the one who ignored [the upperclassmen].”What does yield her confession, though, is the guilt of being believed by those close to her. Saori is a sincere soul, her lies being those of shame rather than malice. She wants to feel accepted but cannot as long as she believes she her friends are treating her kindly under false pretenses; she’s confident that if they just knew what a mean-spirited little shrew she is they’d reject her as she rejects herself. The fact that they do not has done nothing to dispel this conviction, and even gives her further ammunition to maintain that nobody really understands the depths of her failings. With such a precarious position, even the hint of rejection is enough to send her fleeing:
Mako: “That’d be depressing.” (Saori walks past Mako and begins to trot down the stairs) Saori: “Well, I’m a depressing person! That’s why I have no friends!” Mako: “Are you saying Sasa isn’t your friend? She’d be really sad to hear that.” (Saori’s face only hardens and she accelerates) Mako: “I consider myself your friend too!” (Saori is at a full run when Sasa appears at the bottom of the stairs) Sasa: “Why are you shouting?” (Unaware) (Saori stops abruptly, staring in surprise)Saori is caught up in the theatrics of her own self-loathing, spouting the most absurd falsehoods to reaffirm her misery. Yet even as she punishes herself for her failings, heaping self-recrimination on everything she does, she nonetheless tries to believe that her unhappiness is in no way her fault. If she has played some part, and she isn’t a sad orphan girl facing great and unfair challenges, then that would force her to face up to the source of her behavior. That, quite simply, is too intolerable, and self-pity, the other side of pride without self-esteem, is there to comfort her. But she is not entirely egotistical, and when confronted with the reality of Sasa as another person, she feels truly miserable knowing that her words have maligned not just herself but her sweet friend too.
As for the one who has tried hardest to be a true friend to her, she can tolerate her least of all. Takatsuki not only has everything Saori wants - a kind spirit, positive regard, and Nitori’s affection - her existence undermines the narrative that Saori is a victim and everybody else is just lucky. She wants to believe that if their places were reversed Takatsuki would be just as spiteful, and she will cite as proof the one time she pushed Takatsuki too far. If the object of her envy-unto-hate hates her back, she need not feel guilty about her unwillingness to make up. Clearly the feeling’s mutual. But she knows that’s not true either, and she can only watch with hidden yearning as Takatsuki responds to her animosity with incomprehension.[3] . Not only does this person have generosity to spare, she doesn’t even recognize it as special. How can Saori ever match that in Nitori’s eyes?
Nitori. The golden idol of her world, she lays sacrifices at his feet in hopes of a blessing. She may find her own character revolting but at least she can count on this one shaft of light to illuminate her, and if only she can devote herself enough to her pure love she can use it to leave behind the rest of her worthless nature. Renunciation will be her salvation. But - and this is a truth that even Saori has not perceived in herself - she is merely exalting what comes easy: being forceful in the service of her narrow passions.
Saori: (Looking through her dresses) “How’s this? Oh, and this? I think it would look better on you. Wanna try it on?” (Hasty) Nitori: “Uh… Y-you promised…” Saori: “Huh?” Nitori: “...not to do anything weird.” (Timidly) Saori: “Right. I lost control. Sorry.” (Embarrassed) Nitori: “Oh, no. I appreciate the thought. But… it would feel weird to dress up as a girl for this meeting.”Saori is a girl and she loves Nitori the boy; to her it is that simple. Yet Nitori wishes to be a girl and try as she might she cannot find it in herself to love that. The corollary to this is a fear, buried deep, that wishing to be a girl Nitori can never love her back as a girl either. If only she were like Takatsuki. Not perceiving the struggle, all she can do is covet that Takatsuki is capable of being that which will satisfy Nitori; like some sort of transgender superpower to rank alongside her kindness, it’s just yet another thing Takatsuki-the-girl can do that Saori-the-girl cannot. Fate itself seems to have decided against her in favor of Takatsuki.
In compensation, Saori has tried to ignore all her muddy feelings about the matter. She doesn’t want a genderbent play, she doesn’t want Nitori to dress up in girls’ clothes, she doesn’t want him to be… her, really. But she’ll prove she at least has the redeeming quality that she can repress her selfish desires for love… and then she loses control. Again. Her offering of clothes is not for him, it is for her; she wears a false smile as she does so, desperate to make him happy so that she can convince herself she is doing good and be happy too. Also… perhaps… just maybe… get him to lose interest in Takatsuki… and so not want to be a girl either… And when these attempts to give of herself do not yield the results she desires it calls forth her ugliest demons:
Nitori: “It’s not because of Takatsuki. I want to do it for me. I want to be a girl.” Saori: “Really… (cold to the point of formal) So, what do you plan to do? You won’t become a girl by waiting around. Will you have an operation, once you grow up? Otherwise, becoming a girl’s impossible. You can swap names with Takatsuki, but you won’t truly be trading places. It’s all just an act.”Saori would know all about acts, about trying desperately to pretend to be what one is not. About wishing for the impossible every day and having nothing come of it. Her bitterness rebounds on Nitori, trying to project her plight on him, belittling his unwanted dream, and disdainful that unlike her he has done so little in pursuing it. Her passion gives her certainty about what she wants, so why can’t Nitori and Takatsuki, who are so clueless they can’t even answer her questions, just let her have it? Why must everybody be in her way? Nitori, confused and hurt by this assault, can only stammer:
Nitori: “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.” Saori: “Don’t.” (Commanding) Nitori: “Why?” (Saori’s eyebrows twitch reflexively in anger that Nitori still doesn’t see the rightness of her demands) Saori: “Do you have to ask? You’re a boy.” Nitori: “But why are you saying this to me? I’m not doing it for Takatsuki, or for you. I--” Saori: “Because I’m in love with you!” (Awkward silence as Nitori’s mouth drops open; this is how love makes her act?) Nitori: “Sorry…” (Saori deflates, becoming apologetic) Saori: “It’s okay. But I can’t bring myself to like Takatsuki, so don’t talk about her around me.” (Unable to meet his gaze)So just as how Saori struck one boy for mocking Nitori, in the end she is able to strike at him as well when he threatens her hopes. She can’t blame him long for anything otherwise her lifeline is gone, which leaves only herself to flagellate. So she retreats into herself after her outburst, unable to face properly what she has just done, yet feeling keenly the gap between the selfishness of her heart and the selflessness she idealizes but which remains beyond her grasp.
“My! I haven’t seen you in a while, Saori.”So greets the woman at the gate to the church, humbly sweeping the grounds. It is a kindly comment that lets the hearer know that she is missed and that her absence is lamented, not censured. Saori, however, is deaf to this; with only a curt “domo” in return she rushes past, intent on her purpose, passing up yet another opportunity at human comfort, fleeing from herself and the scene just witnessed.
Saori doesn’t attend her church, a fact remarked on more than once. It is a symptom of a larger issue: Saori is isolating herself out of egotism. She knows what she needs and she doesn’t need any of them; her own efforts will be enough. When she does eventually achieve her goal it will prove that she was right all along, the full measure of her quality being revealed in how she overcame her flaws and found her happy future.
Yet this very choice is what is blocking her path. She imagines her efforts will produce humility and sacrifice, but the self-hatred and self-abandonment she is utilizing are only a facsimile of virtue, indulged in because they are easy and, in a paradoxical way, make her feel better by proving she has lofty aspirations. That they have done nothing to improve her situation has her attempting to dignify them as though she were the victim of a grand romantic tragedy, her very own Romeo and Juliet. A perfect love will be thwarted by the world and the protagonist will reject it back in contempt and retribution: she will play the pariah, insist on reminding others of her misery, and wish for everybody to meet an unhappy fate, all in the service of her righteous outrage.
…but she is not that far gone. She still stared with longing at others and their fireworks, just a child after all who desperately wants to feel loved but cannot because of her own folly.
So let Saisho be improved so that she may benefit, but blight him to satisfy her spite. Let Nitori be happy because she loves him, and let it be remembered that she was willing to petition for this despite how she feels. And please take from Takatsuki…
Saori pauses in her prayer, looking downwardly inward, knowing what she asks comes at the expense of another but wanting it too much to be able to overcome herself. The screen goes black; this is too intimate, far far too intimate, to show. With eyes closed the lines are spoken not by the lips but in that inner cavity where we find ourselves resting when there are no distractions, she asks of higher powers what she otherwise believes is impossible and doubts she even deserves:
Please, let her story be happy.
Prodigal Daughter
If we are lucky, there comes a time in our lives when all our rationalizations collapse inward under their own weight and we’re faced with just ourselves. Merely being able to admit in moments of honesty that we are confused or in the wrong is not enough; such can be steps, but sometimes a shock, and being forced to acknowledge the necessity of help, is required.For Saori, her love and her self-denigration had worked together to promote a blinding justification for her behavior. But behind this front a problem had been gathering strength. In her story of self-sacrifice she had always counted on one thing: that if she could only achieve for Nitori his happiness she would find her own as well. That would be her way out of her dilemma, to keep giving herself up until the conflict between her desires and his disappeared. That’s how the plot will work out if she’s good enough to warrant it. And yet…
“I’m not happy with the script the way it is.”…and yet she finds that his happiness is not hers. The class play, to all intents and purposes, was a success. It gave Nitori an outlet to truly express what he wanted and he appreciated the time spent with classmates and friends in bringing it together. It of course did not solve all of his dilemmas, it would be ridiculous to expect a single play to change everybody’s feelings, but it did help. It even gave Saori the center-stage recognition that she secretly craved; she got to be Romeo and demonstrated such caliber that nobody could doubt she was a cut above the rest of the cast.
But it didn’t make her Nitori’s beloved. When given a chance to express himself he said exactly what she didn’t want to hear. In working together and deepening his bonds with others it made him ever more distant from herself. And though she has everybody’s applause it isn’t enough to fill the hole at the center of her being. All of her hopes still remain pinned on his coming around to her dream eventually, that he will give up being a girl for her sake like she has intimated she would do anything for him. Maybe it didn’t happen this act, but the next one perhaps. Next time she will prove worthy his affection, as worthy as any boy, as worthy as Takats...
Takatsuki: “I found out that Nitori… is in love with Anna. And he’s going out with her.” (Saori stares in pained bewilderment) Saori: “Suehiro… Anna?”But… Nitori wants to be a girl… a girl who likes guys… it was Takatsuki’s fault for being everything Saori couldn’t… Saori was a tragic heroine for wanting the impossible… she was a virtuous heroine for devoting herself to him anyway… when Nitori realized this he would cherish her back… her sacrifice would get her what she wanted… it would make her happy...
…or maybe, it isn’t that Nitori doesn’t love girls, but just that he doesn’t love her, and that nothing she can do will change that.
Ms. Chiba: “Are you serious about wanting to quit school?” Saori: “Have I ever joked about anything?” Ms Chiba: “Well, no… But what will you do?” Saori: “Something. I could be someone’s mistress.” Ms. Chiba: “You shouldn’t joke about that.” (Gentle reproof) Saori: “I never joke.”Saori knows nobody will ever love her. She never jokes, is never funny[4] , is never nice. Always too serious about everything she tries to do. And now she sees that it was pointless. She might as well just throw herself away, make herself somebody’s mistress; that way at least there’s no pretension that the relationship will be anything other than her serving another without affection. That’s something any female with a working body is at least good for. Look, she even knows how to languorously pose to try and entice a lover; she’s had plenty of practice at it, after all.
What a little actress.
Saori may never joke, but she says (and does) plenty which is absurd enough to be comedic. And as always, she knows it. With the last line she averts her eyes from everything but her pillow, staring inward at how dramatic she is being. This may seem to be owning up to her faults at last but that is only a mirage. It’s what the self-pity is there for, to save her from that. If she can just swaddle herself in petulant surety that she is not who she wishes and cannot have what she desires, then she can give free reign to her unhappiness. Make herself the victim of circumstance again and let other people try to cheer her up so she can refuse. Though one reflection slips through:
Ms. Chiba: “Are you being bullied?” Saori: “No, I’m the bully.”Stripped of their justification, Saori’s motivations may be known by their fruits. She has been cornering Nitori, making him feel uncomfortable, demanding of him answers he cannot possibly have to satisfy her own want of comprehension. She has even tried to get him to give up what he wants most. And that’s the person she likes. Nobody is going to miss her.
Doorbell rings and Saori blinks and looks up with surprise; her mother answers it, and returns saying it was Takatsuki dropping off homework for herBut that’s not the truth either. She is not a bully who inflicts herself on others for pleasure or domination; not much of a heroine, perhaps, but not a villain either. And this thankless little sign of regard arrests her for a moment, open-mouthed, before she doubles down again to avoid admitting it.
Ms Chiba: “Oh, you’re awake. Would you like some scones?”Saori stares confused at Takatsuki sitting with her mother. Caught unawares in the broad daylight she doesn’t have time to put on a face, revealing a fuzz-headed little girl who is quite easily touched. Despite her attempts to hide, Takatsuki has come back again and again, and now cornered by propriety (or possibly just her mother), she has to admit Takatsuki into her room. Takatsuki takes her place on the opposite wall, enough to give Saori space but still facing her head on:
Takatsuki: “I-I was hoping we could make up.” Saori: “Why? Don’t you hate me? Why bother changing anything?” (Looking away)First defense thrown up; Saori’s rationalizations won’t go down without a fight. She’s unlovable, she knows that. She managed to make even Takatsuki angry to tears with her unkindness. Any reasonable person should demand that she apologize first... and she knows that won’t happen. So really it’s impossible to drag her out of this hole; she’s tried, others have tried, and they’ve all failed. She should just be left there, alone like she deserves.
Takatsuki: “If Nitori isn’t in love with me, there’s no reason for us to fight.” Saori: “Are you stupid? So because Nitori doesn’t like you anymore, that means we should be friends? I’m not that shameless.” (Looking indignantly at Takatsuki) Takatsuki: “I don’t see the problem.” (Confused)No, Takatsuki doesn’t see the problem and can’t. That’s always been problem: she’s too good-natured to comprehend the source of Saori’s anger and shame; in answering this way all she does is remind Saori of her own shortcomings and make her need for defenses stronger. But Saori still has her pride, such as it is; she at least wants it to be clear that this isn’t jealousy over a love interest. She isn’t that petty. It was just the most painful insult, and though it is gone it doesn’t change the fact that Takatsuki has a large-heartedness Saori can only envy. Which reminds her again:
Saori: “Why do you insist on being friends with me? I’ve always been pretty antisocial. I’m fine with the way things are.” (Looking increasingly pathetic with each statement)Takatsuki doesn’t know how to respond to this. She hadn’t ever thought about why she ought to keep reaching out to Saori; it just seemed like the right thing to do. Hearing the rest of the sad assessment, her face falls as she finds herself uncertain on what to say. Saori pauses in her rumination in case Takatsuki tries to comfort her, tell her she’s not that bad or try to chase after her after she’s said she wants to be left alone. Her self-pity is ready for those answers; if Takatsuki falls for that trap there’s no arguing with Saori. She will fight to the last if people try to make her feel better intentionally. However, receiving no such gratification, Saori provokes her further:
Saori: “You just don’t want Sasa to be sad.” Takatsuki: “This has nothing to do with her. I decided to come here on my own.” (Swiftly)This, though, is an obvious falsehood and Takatsuki knows how to meet those. She may not quite comprehend what Saori’s problem is, but that won’t stop her from instinctively challenging a bad lie when she hears one. Saori averts her eyes. Obviously Takatsuki still doesn’t get it, doesn’t get her, and her lips begin to form yet another defense… then she pauses, her mouth resting open in the now-familiar tell that she is moved. Takatsuki is here for her and no one else; the very earnestness that she has found so galling is also a guarantee of truth. There is somebody who sincerely believes that enduring Saori’s unpleasantness is worth it. Something about her might be worth caring for.
Saori: “Your tea.” (Quietly) Takatsuki: “Huh?” Saori: “You should drink it. Before it gets cold.” (Blushing and looking away)It is the first time Saori has expressed any concern for the other person in the room. It’s small, it’s embarrassed, but it’s genuine. The world doesn’t revolve around Saori Chiba and her little drama. Takatsuki doesn’t quite get what she’s done right to finally receive this peace offering, but she does understand what it means. She picks up the saucer and sips in acceptance, happy to have her friend back.
Praying in Secret
After this scene Saori Chiba does not become a saint. She still has trouble being sociable[5] , still struggles with her feelings, still is Saori Chiba. But, that’s not such a bad thing either. As she remarks herself when accused of being blunt, that, yes, she is blunt, but less so than she once was[6] . That’s just how she is: not as an excuse, but as an acknowledgement that to go straight after what she wants and express clearly what she thinks is both the value and the fault of her passionate character. The easy path was to dream of being somebody else, the hard one to work on being a better version of who she is.Despite its billing, I am reluctant to characterize Hourou Musuko as an LGBT show; that indicates it is applicable to only a subset of humanity. This sells it short. Gender issues are its central vehicle, but compassion for all is where it is trying to take us. And compassion begins with self-compassion, for as Saori learned, abuse of the self inevitably turns to the abuse of others, and a souring of relationships in expectation of reward. I have great hope for people like her, though - their struggles often grant them a self-knowledge that is denied those who have not wrestled with their angel, and hers has not inconsiderable strength. As was remarked about another rather quarrelsome anime heroine, “That young lady will definitely grow up to be a beauty.” I think that will be the case here too.
In her last scene alone with Nitori we are able to glimpse where she is going. They are in her room again, and as before she offers her dresses to wear. However, the urgency is gone; she no longer desperately needs to please him to satisfy herself. And as she walks over to pick up the hair extension, that piece which more clearly than any signifies helping him transition away from her imagined future, she pauses. A look of sadness steals over her face as what she is doing sinks in, threatening a return of all the anger at the unfairness. Why is it her dream and not his that must be sacrificed? Then she closes her eyes in proper orison before standing, smiling for Nitori’s sake as she turns to face him again. It isn’t the prayed-for prize she has won; the tears are barely restrained as she feels what she wanted so dearly slipping away. But it is something more valuable, and for the first time, as she lays her head on his, she is free to love him without reserve, and though no chorus of angels will sing her praises, there can be no doubt who was singing “For You” all along:
I wanna cry for you Cry the tears of blessing for making up with you. I wanna smile for you Not for myself. I wanna find the song which tells of our love story. “Everything is for you.” I go around saying that again Though that’s nothing but wishful thinking. I know that best of all I’m just choosing the easy way out. In truth, I’m doing everything for myself. I think I just got carried away by the atmosphere of this city. I wanna cry for you When I smile with you I’m sure I’ll feel better too. I wanna dream for you I won’t forget our story, even after I wake up from this dream Because the story still echoes in my ears.
2021.06.30 04:56 Suhkein Saori Chiba essay test
"...and then she strove to be contended with that hardness, and to require nothing. That is the path we all like when we set out on our abandonment of egoism - the path of martyrdom and endurance, where the palm branches grow, rather than the steep highway of tolerance, just allowance, and self-blame, where there are no leafy honours to be gathered and worn." -George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss
I recall the precise moment I fell in love with Hourou Musuko. It was Saori Chiba in the empty church, asking with tender conceitedness for what she believes she wants but by providence has been denied:
The story that follows is not a heroic journey. It is a mundane one. The beginning is not infamy and the end not apotheosis; it is no Pilgrim’s Progress. Saori Chiba is nothing more and nothing less than an adolescent little girl at a critical time in her life. This, however, is the strength of Hourou Musuko; it is humanizing rather than archetypal, and there is a quiet power in how it appreciates its characters just as they are. I hope to borrow a little of that here.
Not Nitori. She could never hate Nitori. Her first introduction is unequivocal on this point: ignoring all decorum or subtlety, she will smite those who threaten him. He is a pure, special person and those who would harm such a soul deserve swift judgement at her hands. Knowing that they would not accept his true self only heightens her vigilant anger. Childish, obnoxious, and unkind, she hates them all.
...I won’t do anything weird this time…
There is one among these, though, who kindles a special ire: Takatsuki. Capable and cool, she is admired by everybody. Not only this, but despite all the positive regard she receives Takatsuki is not conceited about any of it. She is simply kind and is willing to put her good nature to work for others[2] . At least, that’s what everybody sees. Saori, though, knows the truth. Takatsuki is just nice because her circumstances have made it easy; if she wasn’t so blithely easy-going and everybody didn’t treat her well that attitude would vanish. That she leads Nitori on, going on dates and dressing up together, shows how insincere she truly is. She should stop messing around so Nitori can choose somebody else. Having everything but not deserving it, Saori really hates Takatsuki.
...it’s not fair…
Yet for some reason Nitori is still friends with Takatsuki, still has feelings for her even. Well, Saori will show Nitori what it means to love and support properly. When the class vote for the cultural festival comes up, she will have the courage to volunteer in front of everybody a genderbent play. It might not be the story that she wants, but it is surely the one Nitori desires, and since he cannot risk asking for himself she will do it in his stead. Unlike others, she will sacrifice for those she cares about. That’s really what she hates: when people can’t get over themselves.
...you’re a boy...
Now, at last, she has Nitori all to herself as they write the script together. Just like she wanted…and just like what he must have wanted too. How could he not enjoy spending time with her after all she’s done for him? If only their idiot teacher Saisho didn’t ask for more volunteers to join them. How could he be so utterly oblivious to how other people felt? She isn’t sure if he’s even worth hating or just holding in contempt, turning her face away as he speaks so he knows just how poorly she regards his pretense at being helpful.
And all this righteousness makes Saori Chiba the most unhappy character in the cast.
What is Saori’s problem? Takatsuki doesn’t get it. She knows that Saori loves Nitori, and that his choice caused a rift between them, but she had hoped that maybe in time things would cool down. After all, it’s not like she’s dating Nitori; her refusal should have diffused the situation, not inflamed it. Yet for some reason Saori’s anger has not abated. By happenstance finding herself alone with Saori, Takatsuki tries again:
This is the chance Takatsuki has needed. An offhanded comment like that about one’s own ability is obviously begging to be generously contradicted. Everybody likes positive regard, and by directing attention away from herself and lavishing it on Saori it’s the perfect way to show she doesn’t hold a grudge. The praise isn’t empty either; Saori really is talented, and while Takatsuki may have played it up a little much, not being much of an actress herself, she honestly does believe what she says. Naturally Saori will see this.
Saori pauses again to carefully scrutinize Takatsuki’s reaction to what she has just said. Despite her pretense, the mirror reveals that a slight blush has appeared on her cheeks. Then she then averts her gaze… unhappily. Takatsuki draws the natural conclusion: maybe Saori just doesn’t believe her. Insincere words would be cruel after all, and Takatsuki can understand getting angry over that:
The book that Saori struck the jeering boy with was Anne of Green Gables, a story about an orphan girl who is sent to a farm on accident in place of a boy. Anne is an unconventional child, and though intelligent and sensitive is nonetheless proud and quick-tempered: when Gilbert Blythe touches a nerve she retaliates by bringing her school writing slate down on his head. Despite these trials, though, she is eventually able to win over the hearts of everybody by her own spirited disposition and innate goodness.
Saori Chiba is living out such a story in her own head, her own personal drama of which she is author and star actress. Its heroine’s principle virtue? Selflessness in the service of love. Anne merely struck Blythe for herself, but Saori did so to protect Nitori. She really does love him as dearly as a twelve year old girl can, and it is this trait that Saori is counting on to redeem her heroine and bring the narrative to a happy conclusion. Otherwise, there is a problem with her script: the main character is jealous, judgemental, unforgiving, and projects all her worst traits onto those around her.
In turn, these implacable feelings have been the cause of all her problems. Saisho invited others to join in the script writing only because of her uncommunicative condescension, mistaking it for a lack of progress; it was she who ultimately robbed herself of her time alone with Nitori. Similarly, she was in the wrong with the upperclassmen. Having erected a barrier of pride to hide her shame, she was too busy defending it to give them a simple courtesy. Confronted, she doubles down, lying about it because her act of aloofness is too important to surrender. This causes her to become even more mortified by her weakness, which necessitates yet more compensatory pride, feeding on itself until she has trapped herself, all so that none may notice her appalling vulnerability.
As for the one who has tried hardest to be a true friend to her, she can tolerate her least of all. Takatsuki not only has everything Saori wants - a kind spirit, positive regard, and Nitori’s affection - her existence undermines the narrative that Saori is a victim and everybody else is just lucky. She wants to believe that if their places were reversed Takatsuki would be just as spiteful, and she will cite as proof the one time she pushed Takatsuki too far. If the object of her envy-unto-hate hates her back, she need not feel guilty about her unwillingness to make up. Clearly the feeling’s mutual. But she knows that’s not true either, and she can only watch with hidden yearning as Takatsuki responds to her animosity with incomprehension.[3] . Not only does this person have generosity to spare, she doesn’t even recognize it as special. How can Saori ever match that in Nitori’s eyes?
Nitori. The golden idol of her world, she lays sacrifices at his feet in hopes of a blessing. She may find her own character revolting but at least she can count on this one shaft of light to illuminate her, and if only she can devote herself enough to her pure love she can use it to leave behind the rest of her worthless nature. Renunciation will be her salvation. But - and this is a truth that even Saori has not perceived in herself - she is merely exalting what comes easy: being forceful in the service of her narrow passions.
In compensation, Saori has tried to ignore all her muddy feelings about the matter. She doesn’t want a genderbent play, she doesn’t want Nitori to dress up in girls’ clothes, she doesn’t want him to be… her, really. But she’ll prove she at least has the redeeming quality that she can repress her selfish desires for love… and then she loses control. Again. Her offering of clothes is not for him, it is for her; she wears a false smile as she does so, desperate to make him happy so that she can convince herself she is doing good and be happy too. Also… perhaps… just maybe… get him to lose interest in Takatsuki… and so not want to be a girl either… And when these attempts to give of herself do not yield the results she desires it calls forth her ugliest demons:
Saori doesn’t attend her church, a fact remarked on more than once. It is a symptom of a larger issue: Saori is isolating herself out of egotism. She knows what she needs and she doesn’t need any of them; her own efforts will be enough. When she does eventually achieve her goal it will prove that she was right all along, the full measure of her quality being revealed in how she overcame her flaws and found her happy future.
Yet this very choice is what is blocking her path. She imagines her efforts will produce humility and sacrifice, but the self-hatred and self-abandonment she is utilizing are only a facsimile of virtue, indulged in because they are easy and, in a paradoxical way, make her feel better by proving she has lofty aspirations. That they have done nothing to improve her situation has her attempting to dignify them as though she were the victim of a grand romantic tragedy, her very own Romeo and Juliet. A perfect love will be thwarted by the world and the protagonist will reject it back in contempt and retribution: she will play the pariah, insist on reminding others of her misery, and wish for everybody to meet an unhappy fate, all in the service of her righteous outrage.
…but she is not that far gone. She still stared with longing at others and their fireworks, just a child after all who desperately wants to feel loved but cannot because of her own folly.
So let Saisho be improved so that she may benefit, but blight him to satisfy her spite. Let Nitori be happy because she loves him, and let it be remembered that she was willing to petition for this despite how she feels. And please take from Takatsuki…
Saori pauses in her prayer, looking downwardly inward, knowing what she asks comes at the expense of another but wanting it too much to be able to overcome herself. The screen goes black; this is too intimate, far far too intimate, to show. With eyes closed the lines are spoken not by the lips but in that inner cavity where we find ourselves resting when there are no distractions, she asks of higher powers what she otherwise believes is impossible and doubts she even deserves:
Please, let her story be happy.
For Saori, her love and her self-denigration had worked together to promote a blinding justification for her behavior. But behind this front a problem had been gathering strength. In her story of self-sacrifice she had always counted on one thing: that if she could only achieve for Nitori his happiness she would find her own as well. That would be her way out of her dilemma, to keep giving herself up until the conflict between her desires and his disappeared. That’s how the plot will work out if she’s good enough to warrant it. And yet…
But it didn’t make her Nitori’s beloved. When given a chance to express himself he said exactly what she didn’t want to hear. In working together and deepening his bonds with others it made him ever more distant from herself. And though she has everybody’s applause it isn’t enough to fill the hole at the center of her being. All of her hopes still remain pinned on his coming around to her dream eventually, that he will give up being a girl for her sake like she has intimated she would do anything for him. Maybe it didn’t happen this act, but the next one perhaps. Next time she will prove worthy his affection, as worthy as any boy, as worthy as Takats...
…or maybe, it isn’t that Nitori doesn’t love girls, but just that he doesn’t love her, and that nothing she can do will change that.
What a little actress.
Saori may never joke, but she says (and does) plenty which is absurd enough to be comedic. And as always, she knows it. With the last line she averts her eyes from everything but her pillow, staring inward at how dramatic she is being. This may seem to be owning up to her faults at last but that is only a mirage. It’s what the self-pity is there for, to save her from that. If she can just swaddle herself in petulant surety that she is not who she wishes and cannot have what she desires, then she can give free reign to her unhappiness. Make herself the victim of circumstance again and let other people try to cheer her up so she can refuse. Though one reflection slips through:
Despite its billing, I am reluctant to characterize Hourou Musuko as an LGBT show; that indicates it is applicable to only a subset of humanity. This sells it short. Gender issues are its central vehicle, but compassion for all is where it is trying to take us. And compassion begins with self-compassion, for as Saori learned, abuse of the self inevitably turns to the abuse of others, and a souring of relationships in expectation of reward. I have great hope for people like her, though - their struggles often grant them a self-knowledge that is denied those who have not wrestled with their angel, and hers has not inconsiderable strength. As was remarked about another rather quarrelsome anime heroine, “That young lady will definitely grow up to be a beauty.” I think that will be the case here too.
In her last scene alone with Nitori we are able to glimpse where she is going. They are in her room again, and as before she offers her dresses to wear. However, the urgency is gone; she no longer desperately needs to please him to satisfy herself. And as she walks over to pick up the hair extension, that piece which more clearly than any signifies helping him transition away from her imagined future, she pauses. A look of sadness steals over her face as what she is doing sinks in, threatening a return of all the anger at the unfairness. Why is it her dream and not his that must be sacrificed? Then she closes her eyes in proper orison before standing, smiling for Nitori’s sake as she turns to face him again. It isn’t the prayed-for prize she has won; the tears are barely restrained as she feels what she wanted so dearly slipping away. But it is something more valuable, and for the first time, as she lays her head on his, she is free to love him without reserve, and though no chorus of angels will sing her praises, there can be no doubt who was singing “For You” all along:
submitted by Suhkein to u/Suhkein [link] [comments]
“Dear God, please bless that idiot Saisho with some brains, and a pox. And let Nitori be Juliet. And instead of Takatsuki… (Pause) ...let me be Romeo.”With a few brushstrokes, a couple of lines and the right setting, Saori’s character is laid bare. At first her words would seem to be an indictment, but the gentle notes playing in the background say otherwise: there is pity for this poor sinner who has come to pray unwittingly for more grief. She is so lost she does not even know what to ask for. With this, commentary becomes sympathy, and we are reminded that the point of Hourou Musuko is not just to understand people, but to understand them for the right reasons.
The story that follows is not a heroic journey. It is a mundane one. The beginning is not infamy and the end not apotheosis; it is no Pilgrim’s Progress. Saori Chiba is nothing more and nothing less than an adolescent little girl at a critical time in her life. This, however, is the strength of Hourou Musuko; it is humanizing rather than archetypal, and there is a quiet power in how it appreciates its characters just as they are. I hope to borrow a little of that here.
Cursing Those That Bless You
“It was a lot of fun, at first. The three of us going to school together, taking pictures together, just Nitori and me… and Takatsuki. I was the first to notice that Nitori was meant to dress like a girl. And yet, before I knew it, Takatsuki was the one perpetually at his side. Then I noticed things getting awkward between them… but before I could blink, they’d patched things up. I hate... - Saori ChibaSaori was the first one to be aware of Nitori’s deepest desires. She was always paying attention to his[1,pronouns] needs, ready to act on them, support them. She loves him, single-mindedly and without reserve, and it should be obvious to anyone that she has first claim on Nitori’s affection in return… and then he chose Takatsuki. She hates…
Not Nitori. She could never hate Nitori. Her first introduction is unequivocal on this point: ignoring all decorum or subtlety, she will smite those who threaten him. He is a pure, special person and those who would harm such a soul deserve swift judgement at her hands. Knowing that they would not accept his true self only heightens her vigilant anger. Childish, obnoxious, and unkind, she hates them all.
...I won’t do anything weird this time…
There is one among these, though, who kindles a special ire: Takatsuki. Capable and cool, she is admired by everybody. Not only this, but despite all the positive regard she receives Takatsuki is not conceited about any of it. She is simply kind and is willing to put her good nature to work for others[2] . At least, that’s what everybody sees. Saori, though, knows the truth. Takatsuki is just nice because her circumstances have made it easy; if she wasn’t so blithely easy-going and everybody didn’t treat her well that attitude would vanish. That she leads Nitori on, going on dates and dressing up together, shows how insincere she truly is. She should stop messing around so Nitori can choose somebody else. Having everything but not deserving it, Saori really hates Takatsuki.
...it’s not fair…
Yet for some reason Nitori is still friends with Takatsuki, still has feelings for her even. Well, Saori will show Nitori what it means to love and support properly. When the class vote for the cultural festival comes up, she will have the courage to volunteer in front of everybody a genderbent play. It might not be the story that she wants, but it is surely the one Nitori desires, and since he cannot risk asking for himself she will do it in his stead. Unlike others, she will sacrifice for those she cares about. That’s really what she hates: when people can’t get over themselves.
...you’re a boy...
Now, at last, she has Nitori all to herself as they write the script together. Just like she wanted…and just like what he must have wanted too. How could he not enjoy spending time with her after all she’s done for him? If only their idiot teacher Saisho didn’t ask for more volunteers to join them. How could he be so utterly oblivious to how other people felt? She isn’t sure if he’s even worth hating or just holding in contempt, turning her face away as he speaks so he knows just how poorly she regards his pretense at being helpful.
And all this righteousness makes Saori Chiba the most unhappy character in the cast.
Takatsuki: “I heard the drama club wants Nitori.” Saori: “Yes, I know. They approached me too.” (Flatly) Takatsuki: “What?! Amazing! It makes sense, though. You’re an amazing actress. It’s amazing how talented you both are.”If you’re going to get Saori’s attention, start with Nitori. She won’t ignore you then. However, Saori won’t give her rival the the pleasure of being the bearer of good news, and replies with a dismissive casualness that robs any joy from the messenger… only to add just as lifelessly that she was considered too.
This is the chance Takatsuki has needed. An offhanded comment like that about one’s own ability is obviously begging to be generously contradicted. Everybody likes positive regard, and by directing attention away from herself and lavishing it on Saori it’s the perfect way to show she doesn’t hold a grudge. The praise isn’t empty either; Saori really is talented, and while Takatsuki may have played it up a little much, not being much of an actress herself, she honestly does believe what she says. Naturally Saori will see this.
Saori: “How can you throw around the word ‘amazing’ like that?” Takatsuki: “Huh?”Throughout the praise Saori had merely watched Takatsuki speak, remaining facing toward the mirror with only a spare glance for the other person. Now in rebuttal she turns a quarter turn with her head only, enough to let Takatsuki know she is being spoken to but without giving her the dignity of being fully acknowledged. Takatsuki, this whole while facing Saori properly, just as is her character, is left disoriented as she can feel the hostility mounting again. What did she do wrong?
Saori pauses again to carefully scrutinize Takatsuki’s reaction to what she has just said. Despite her pretense, the mirror reveals that a slight blush has appeared on her cheeks. Then she then averts her gaze… unhappily. Takatsuki draws the natural conclusion: maybe Saori just doesn’t believe her. Insincere words would be cruel after all, and Takatsuki can understand getting angry over that:
Takatsuki: “Because I really do think it’s amazing!” (With renewed enthusiasm) Saori: “Let’s say you wanted to join the drama club, but Nitori and I were the only ones invited. Would you feel the same?” (Averting her eyes toward the mirror) Takatsuki: “H-Huh?” (Saori gives Takatsuki another inscrutable look then returns her eyes forward) Saori: “In other words. If you’re actually able to admire someone who can easily do the things you wish you could, that’s truly amazing. (pause) I can’t do it.” (Saori’s face creases into frustration near tears) Saori: “Though I hate to admit it.” (Seeing only her reflection in the mirror, Saori concludes) Saori: “That’s why I hate you. Sorry.”And with this she walks off stage.
Saori Chiba is living out such a story in her own head, her own personal drama of which she is author and star actress. Its heroine’s principle virtue? Selflessness in the service of love. Anne merely struck Blythe for herself, but Saori did so to protect Nitori. She really does love him as dearly as a twelve year old girl can, and it is this trait that Saori is counting on to redeem her heroine and bring the narrative to a happy conclusion. Otherwise, there is a problem with her script: the main character is jealous, judgemental, unforgiving, and projects all her worst traits onto those around her.
Saori: “As usual, [Saisho] doesn’t have a clue.” Nitori: “You’re being kind of harsh.” Saori: “No, I’m not angry with him anymore. He decided this was the best course of action after some serious deliberation. I understand why he did it. ...I’m just having trouble controlling my emotions.” Mako: “Wouldn’t that mean you’re still mad?”And the main character knows it. Saori is not Momoko, witless enough to hate whom she will without reflection. Gifted, or cursed, with an articulate and self-aware nature, Saori is left to think on all that she does. She knows her feelings toward Saisho are unjust; he’s inept, perhaps, but there can be no questioning his good intent. Yet… she can’t stem the resentment. It fills her with shame that she has so little control over her worst impulses. Mako doesn’t quite understand; it is anger... but with an asterisk, footnoted always with embarrassment and regret.
In turn, these implacable feelings have been the cause of all her problems. Saisho invited others to join in the script writing only because of her uncommunicative condescension, mistaking it for a lack of progress; it was she who ultimately robbed herself of her time alone with Nitori. Similarly, she was in the wrong with the upperclassmen. Having erected a barrier of pride to hide her shame, she was too busy defending it to give them a simple courtesy. Confronted, she doubles down, lying about it because her act of aloofness is too important to surrender. This causes her to become even more mortified by her weakness, which necessitates yet more compensatory pride, feeding on itself until she has trapped herself, all so that none may notice her appalling vulnerability.
Sasa: “Aren’t you going to eat your [ice cream]?” Saori: “I don’t have the right to be here.” (Dispirited) Sasa: “There you go again…” Saori: “It’s true.” (Pause) Saori: “I never said hello. I was the one who ignored [the upperclassmen].”What does yield her confession, though, is the guilt of being believed by those close to her. Saori is a sincere soul, her lies being those of shame rather than malice. She wants to feel accepted but cannot as long as she believes she her friends are treating her kindly under false pretenses; she’s confident that if they just knew what a mean-spirited little shrew she is they’d reject her as she rejects herself. The fact that they do not has done nothing to dispel this conviction, and even gives her further ammunition to maintain that nobody really understands the depths of her failings. With such a precarious position, even the hint of rejection is enough to send her fleeing:
Mako: “That’d be depressing.” (Saori walks past Mako and begins to trot down the stairs) Saori: “Well, I’m a depressing person! That’s why I have no friends!” Mako: “Are you saying Sasa isn’t your friend? She’d be really sad to hear that.” (Saori’s face only hardens and she accelerates) Mako: “I consider myself your friend too!” (Saori is at a full run when Sasa appears at the bottom of the stairs) Sasa: “Why are you shouting?” (Unaware) (Saori stops abruptly, staring in surprise)Saori is caught up in the theatrics of her own self-loathing, spouting the most absurd falsehoods to reaffirm her misery. Yet even as she punishes herself for her failings, heaping self-recrimination on everything she does, she nonetheless tries to believe that her unhappiness is in no way her fault. If she has played some part, and she isn’t a sad orphan girl facing great and unfair challenges, then that would force her to face up to the source of her behavior. That, quite simply, is too intolerable, and self-pity, the other side of pride without self-esteem, is there to comfort her. But she is not entirely egotistical, and when confronted with the reality of Sasa as another person, she feels truly miserable knowing that her words have maligned not just herself but her sweet friend too.
As for the one who has tried hardest to be a true friend to her, she can tolerate her least of all. Takatsuki not only has everything Saori wants - a kind spirit, positive regard, and Nitori’s affection - her existence undermines the narrative that Saori is a victim and everybody else is just lucky. She wants to believe that if their places were reversed Takatsuki would be just as spiteful, and she will cite as proof the one time she pushed Takatsuki too far. If the object of her envy-unto-hate hates her back, she need not feel guilty about her unwillingness to make up. Clearly the feeling’s mutual. But she knows that’s not true either, and she can only watch with hidden yearning as Takatsuki responds to her animosity with incomprehension.[3] . Not only does this person have generosity to spare, she doesn’t even recognize it as special. How can Saori ever match that in Nitori’s eyes?
Nitori. The golden idol of her world, she lays sacrifices at his feet in hopes of a blessing. She may find her own character revolting but at least she can count on this one shaft of light to illuminate her, and if only she can devote herself enough to her pure love she can use it to leave behind the rest of her worthless nature. Renunciation will be her salvation. But - and this is a truth that even Saori has not perceived in herself - she is merely exalting what comes easy: being forceful in the service of her narrow passions.
Saori: (Looking through her dresses) “How’s this? Oh, and this? I think it would look better on you. Wanna try it on?” (Hasty) Nitori: “Uh… Y-you promised…” Saori: “Huh?” Nitori: “...not to do anything weird.” (Timidly) Saori: “Right. I lost control. Sorry.” (Embarrassed) Nitori: “Oh, no. I appreciate the thought. But… it would feel weird to dress up as a girl for this meeting.”Saori is a girl and she loves Nitori the boy; to her it is that simple. Yet Nitori wishes to be a girl and try as she might she cannot find it in herself to love that. The corollary to this is a fear, buried deep, that wishing to be a girl Nitori can never love her back as a girl either. If only she were like Takatsuki. Not perceiving the struggle, all she can do is covet that Takatsuki is capable of being that which will satisfy Nitori; like some sort of transgender superpower to rank alongside her kindness, it’s just yet another thing Takatsuki-the-girl can do that Saori-the-girl cannot. Fate itself seems to have decided against her in favor of Takatsuki.
In compensation, Saori has tried to ignore all her muddy feelings about the matter. She doesn’t want a genderbent play, she doesn’t want Nitori to dress up in girls’ clothes, she doesn’t want him to be… her, really. But she’ll prove she at least has the redeeming quality that she can repress her selfish desires for love… and then she loses control. Again. Her offering of clothes is not for him, it is for her; she wears a false smile as she does so, desperate to make him happy so that she can convince herself she is doing good and be happy too. Also… perhaps… just maybe… get him to lose interest in Takatsuki… and so not want to be a girl either… And when these attempts to give of herself do not yield the results she desires it calls forth her ugliest demons:
Nitori: “It’s not because of Takatsuki. I want to do it for me. I want to be a girl.” Saori: “Really… (cold to the point of formal) So, what do you plan to do? You won’t become a girl by waiting around. Will you have an operation, once you grow up? Otherwise, becoming a girl’s impossible. You can swap names with Takatsuki, but you won’t truly be trading places. It’s all just an act.”Saori would know all about acts, about trying desperately to pretend to be what one is not. About wishing for the impossible every day and having nothing come of it. Her bitterness rebounds on Nitori, trying to project her plight on him, belittling his unwanted dream, and disdainful that unlike her he has done so little in pursuing it. Her passion gives her certainty about what she wants, so why can’t Nitori and Takatsuki, who are so clueless they can’t even answer her questions, just let her have it? Why must everybody be in her way? Nitori, confused and hurt by this assault, can only stammer:
Nitori: “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.” Saori: “Don’t.” (Commanding) Nitori: “Why?” (Saori’s eyebrows twitch reflexively in anger that Nitori still doesn’t see the rightness of her demands) Saori: “Do you have to ask? You’re a boy.” Nitori: “But why are you saying this to me? I’m not doing it for Takatsuki, or for you. I--” Saori: “Because I’m in love with you!” (Awkward silence as Nitori’s mouth drops open; this is how love makes her act?) Nitori: “Sorry…” (Saori deflates, becoming apologetic) Saori: “It’s okay. But I can’t bring myself to like Takatsuki, so don’t talk about her around me.” (Unable to meet his gaze)So just as how Saori struck one boy for mocking Nitori, in the end she is able to strike at him as well when he threatens her hopes. She can’t blame him long for anything otherwise her lifeline is gone, which leaves only herself to flagellate. So she retreats into herself after her outburst, unable to face properly what she has just done, yet feeling keenly the gap between the selfishness of her heart and the selflessness she idealizes but which remains beyond her grasp.
“My! I haven’t seen you in a while, Saori.”So greets the woman at the gate to the church, humbly sweeping the grounds. It is a kindly comment that lets the hearer know that she is missed and that her absence is lamented, not censured. Saori, however, is deaf to this; with only a curt “domo” in return she rushes past, intent on her purpose, passing up yet another opportunity at human comfort, fleeing from herself and the scene just witnessed.
Saori doesn’t attend her church, a fact remarked on more than once. It is a symptom of a larger issue: Saori is isolating herself out of egotism. She knows what she needs and she doesn’t need any of them; her own efforts will be enough. When she does eventually achieve her goal it will prove that she was right all along, the full measure of her quality being revealed in how she overcame her flaws and found her happy future.
Yet this very choice is what is blocking her path. She imagines her efforts will produce humility and sacrifice, but the self-hatred and self-abandonment she is utilizing are only a facsimile of virtue, indulged in because they are easy and, in a paradoxical way, make her feel better by proving she has lofty aspirations. That they have done nothing to improve her situation has her attempting to dignify them as though she were the victim of a grand romantic tragedy, her very own Romeo and Juliet. A perfect love will be thwarted by the world and the protagonist will reject it back in contempt and retribution: she will play the pariah, insist on reminding others of her misery, and wish for everybody to meet an unhappy fate, all in the service of her righteous outrage.
…but she is not that far gone. She still stared with longing at others and their fireworks, just a child after all who desperately wants to feel loved but cannot because of her own folly.
So let Saisho be improved so that she may benefit, but blight him to satisfy her spite. Let Nitori be happy because she loves him, and let it be remembered that she was willing to petition for this despite how she feels. And please take from Takatsuki…
Saori pauses in her prayer, looking downwardly inward, knowing what she asks comes at the expense of another but wanting it too much to be able to overcome herself. The screen goes black; this is too intimate, far far too intimate, to show. With eyes closed the lines are spoken not by the lips but in that inner cavity where we find ourselves resting when there are no distractions, she asks of higher powers what she otherwise believes is impossible and doubts she even deserves:
Please, let her story be happy.
Prodigal Daughter
If we are lucky, there comes a time in our lives when all our rationalizations collapse inward under their own weight and we’re faced with just ourselves. Merely being able to admit in moments of honesty that we are confused or in the wrong is not enough; such can be steps, but sometimes a shock, and being forced to acknowledge the necessity of help, is required.For Saori, her love and her self-denigration had worked together to promote a blinding justification for her behavior. But behind this front a problem had been gathering strength. In her story of self-sacrifice she had always counted on one thing: that if she could only achieve for Nitori his happiness she would find her own as well. That would be her way out of her dilemma, to keep giving herself up until the conflict between her desires and his disappeared. That’s how the plot will work out if she’s good enough to warrant it. And yet…
“I’m not happy with the script the way it is.”…and yet she finds that his happiness is not hers. The class play, to all intents and purposes, was a success. It gave Nitori an outlet to truly express what he wanted and he appreciated the time spent with classmates and friends in bringing it together. It of course did not solve all of his dilemmas, it would be ridiculous to expect a single play to change everybody’s feelings, but it did help. It even gave Saori the center-stage recognition that she secretly craved; she got to be Romeo and demonstrated such caliber that nobody could doubt she was a cut above the rest of the cast.
But it didn’t make her Nitori’s beloved. When given a chance to express himself he said exactly what she didn’t want to hear. In working together and deepening his bonds with others it made him ever more distant from herself. And though she has everybody’s applause it isn’t enough to fill the hole at the center of her being. All of her hopes still remain pinned on his coming around to her dream eventually, that he will give up being a girl for her sake like she has intimated she would do anything for him. Maybe it didn’t happen this act, but the next one perhaps. Next time she will prove worthy his affection, as worthy as any boy, as worthy as Takats...
Takatsuki: “I found out that Nitori… is in love with Anna. And he’s going out with her.” (Saori stares in pained bewilderment) Saori: “Suehiro… Anna?”But… Nitori wants to be a girl… a girl who likes guys… it was Takatsuki’s fault for being everything Saori couldn’t… Saori was a tragic heroine for wanting the impossible… she was a virtuous heroine for devoting herself to him anyway… when Nitori realized this he would cherish her back… her sacrifice would get her what she wanted… it would make her happy...
…or maybe, it isn’t that Nitori doesn’t love girls, but just that he doesn’t love her, and that nothing she can do will change that.
Ms. Chiba: “Are you serious about wanting to quit school?” Saori: “Have I ever joked about anything?” Ms Chiba: “Well, no… But what will you do?” Saori: “Something. I could be someone’s mistress.” Ms. Chiba: “You shouldn’t joke about that.” (Gentle reproof) Saori: “I never joke.”Saori knows nobody will ever love her. She never jokes, is never funny[4] , is never nice. Always too serious about everything she tries to do. And now she sees that it was pointless. She might as well just throw herself away, make herself somebody’s mistress; that way at least there’s no pretension that the relationship will be anything other than her serving another without affection. That’s something any female with a working body is at least good for. Look, she even knows how to languorously pose to try and entice a lover; she’s had plenty of practice at it, after all.
What a little actress.
Saori may never joke, but she says (and does) plenty which is absurd enough to be comedic. And as always, she knows it. With the last line she averts her eyes from everything but her pillow, staring inward at how dramatic she is being. This may seem to be owning up to her faults at last but that is only a mirage. It’s what the self-pity is there for, to save her from that. If she can just swaddle herself in petulant surety that she is not who she wishes and cannot have what she desires, then she can give free reign to her unhappiness. Make herself the victim of circumstance again and let other people try to cheer her up so she can refuse. Though one reflection slips through:
Ms. Chiba: “Are you being bullied?” Saori: “No, I’m the bully.”Stripped of their justification, Saori’s motivations may be known by their fruits. She has been cornering Nitori, making him feel uncomfortable, demanding of him answers he cannot possibly have to satisfy her own want of comprehension. She has even tried to get him to give up what he wants most. And that’s the person she likes. Nobody is going to miss her.
Doorbell rings and Saori blinks and looks up with surprise; her mother answers it, and returns saying it was Takatsuki dropping off homework for herBut that’s not the truth either. She is not a bully who inflicts herself on others for pleasure or domination; not much of a heroine, perhaps, but not a villain either. And this thankless little sign of regard arrests her for a moment, open-mouthed, before she doubles down again to avoid admitting it.
Ms Chiba: “Oh, you’re awake. Would you like some scones?”Saori stares confused at Takatsuki sitting with her mother. Caught unawares in the broad daylight she doesn’t have time to put on a face, revealing a fuzz-headed little girl who is quite easily touched. Despite her attempts to hide, Takatsuki has come back again and again, and now cornered by propriety (or possibly just her mother), she has to admit Takatsuki into her room. Takatsuki takes her place on the opposite wall, enough to give Saori space but still facing her head on:
Takatsuki: “I-I was hoping we could make up.” Saori: “Why? Don’t you hate me? Why bother changing anything?” (Looking away)First defense thrown up; Saori’s rationalizations won’t go down without a fight. She’s unlovable, she knows that. She managed to make even Takatsuki angry to tears with her unkindness. Any reasonable person should demand that she apologize first... and she knows that won’t happen. So really it’s impossible to drag her out of this hole; she’s tried, others have tried, and they’ve all failed. She should just be left there, alone like she deserves.
Takatsuki: “If Nitori isn’t in love with me, there’s no reason for us to fight.” Saori: “Are you stupid? So because Nitori doesn’t like you anymore, that means we should be friends? I’m not that shameless.” (Looking indignantly at Takatsuki) Takatsuki: “I don’t see the problem.” (Confused)No, Takatsuki doesn’t see the problem and can’t. That’s always been problem: she’s too good-natured to comprehend the source of Saori’s anger and shame; in answering this way all she does is remind Saori of her own shortcomings and make her need for defenses stronger. But Saori still has her pride, such as it is; she at least wants it to be clear that this isn’t jealousy over a love interest. She isn’t that petty. It was just the most painful insult, and though it is gone it doesn’t change the fact that Takatsuki has a large-heartedness Saori can only envy. Which reminds her again:
Saori: “Why do you insist on being friends with me? I’ve always been pretty antisocial. I’m fine with the way things are.” (Looking increasingly pathetic with each statement)Takatsuki doesn’t know how to respond to this. She hadn’t ever thought about why she ought to keep reaching out to Saori; it just seemed like the right thing to do. Hearing the rest of the sad assessment, her face falls as she finds herself uncertain on what to say. Saori pauses in her rumination in case Takatsuki tries to comfort her, tell her she’s not that bad or try to chase after her after she’s said she wants to be left alone. Her self-pity is ready for those answers; if Takatsuki falls for that trap there’s no arguing with Saori. She will fight to the last if people try to make her feel better intentionally. However, receiving no such gratification, Saori provokes her further:
Saori: “You just don’t want Sasa to be sad.” Takatsuki: “This has nothing to do with her. I decided to come here on my own.” (Swiftly)This, though, is an obvious falsehood and Takatsuki knows how to meet those. She may not quite comprehend what Saori’s problem is, but that won’t stop her from instinctively challenging a bad lie when she hears one. Saori averts her eyes. Obviously Takatsuki still doesn’t get it, doesn’t get her, and her lips begin to form yet another defense… then she pauses, her mouth resting open in the now-familiar tell that she is moved. Takatsuki is here for her and no one else; the very earnestness that she has found so galling is also a guarantee of truth. There is somebody who sincerely believes that enduring Saori’s unpleasantness is worth it. Something about her might be worth caring for.
Saori: “Your tea.” (Quietly) Takatsuki: “Huh?” Saori: “You should drink it. Before it gets cold.” (Blushing and looking away)It is the first time Saori has expressed any concern for the other person in the room. It’s small, it’s embarrassed, but it’s genuine. The world doesn’t revolve around Saori Chiba and her little drama. Takatsuki doesn’t quite get what she’s done right to finally receive this peace offering, but she does understand what it means. She picks up the saucer and sips in acceptance, happy to have her friend back.
Praying in Secret
After this scene Saori Chiba does not become a saint. She still has trouble being sociable[5] , still struggles with her feelings, still is Saori Chiba. But, that’s not such a bad thing either. As she remarks herself when accused of being blunt, that, yes, she is blunt, but less so than she once was[6] . That’s just how she is: not as an excuse, but as an acknowledgement that to go straight after what she wants and express clearly what she thinks is both the value and the fault of her passionate character. The easy path was to dream of being somebody else, the hard one to work on being a better version of who she is.Despite its billing, I am reluctant to characterize Hourou Musuko as an LGBT show; that indicates it is applicable to only a subset of humanity. This sells it short. Gender issues are its central vehicle, but compassion for all is where it is trying to take us. And compassion begins with self-compassion, for as Saori learned, abuse of the self inevitably turns to the abuse of others, and a souring of relationships in expectation of reward. I have great hope for people like her, though - their struggles often grant them a self-knowledge that is denied those who have not wrestled with their angel, and hers has not inconsiderable strength. As was remarked about another rather quarrelsome anime heroine, “That young lady will definitely grow up to be a beauty.” I think that will be the case here too.
In her last scene alone with Nitori we are able to glimpse where she is going. They are in her room again, and as before she offers her dresses to wear. However, the urgency is gone; she no longer desperately needs to please him to satisfy herself. And as she walks over to pick up the hair extension, that piece which more clearly than any signifies helping him transition away from her imagined future, she pauses. A look of sadness steals over her face as what she is doing sinks in, threatening a return of all the anger at the unfairness. Why is it her dream and not his that must be sacrificed? Then she closes her eyes in proper orison before standing, smiling for Nitori’s sake as she turns to face him again. It isn’t the prayed-for prize she has won; the tears are barely restrained as she feels what she wanted so dearly slipping away. But it is something more valuable, and for the first time, as she lays her head on his, she is free to love him without reserve, and though no chorus of angels will sing her praises, there can be no doubt who was singing “For You” all along:
I wanna cry for you Cry the tears of blessing for making up with you. I wanna smile for you Not for myself. I wanna find the song which tells of our love story. “Everything is for you.” I go around saying that again Though that’s nothing but wishful thinking. I know that best of all I’m just choosing the easy way out. In truth, I’m doing everything for myself. I think I just got carried away by the atmosphere of this city. I wanna cry for you When I smile with you I’m sure I’ll feel better too. I wanna dream for you I won’t forget our story, even after I wake up from this dream Because the story still echoes in my ears.
2021.02.23 15:04 BioMagus The Game Known As Oddity - Formal Complaint Letter #5783
Oddity, allow me to introduce myself. I’m one of the victims of your jejune, sadistic sentiments. As a note of explanation for other readers of this letter: Justice isn’t served when Oddity’s crimes go unpunished. Full disclosure: I’m one of those people who firmly believes that the best way to enable all people to achieve their potential as human beings is to build bridges where in the past all that existed were moats and drawbridges. Not to change the subject or anything, but Oddity has done inestimable damage to everything around it. I won’t dwell on that except to direct your attention to the brazen manner in which it has been trying to make things worse. I don’t mean to cry wolf, but I do think we should be concerned that Oddity has recently been observed confusing the catastrophic power of state fascism with the repression of an authoritarian government in our minds. There is an eerie parallel here with Oddity’s previous attempts to harm others or even instill the fear of harm. The only difference is that its swampers have been staggering around like punch-drunk fighters hit too many times—stunned, confused, betrayed, and trying desperately to rationalize its materialistic, prodigal protests. It is definitely not a pretty sight.Throughout human history, the most spleeny dossers there are have always been virulent. So it should come as no surprise that Oddity’s proof that I’m some sort of cully who can be duped into believing that children should belong to the state is merely its assertion that principles don’t matter. While this crapulous argument is likely to excite laughter in persons who are rational and have a modicum of education, the real message is that thanks to Oddity, a slow and secret poison has entered the vitals of our society, sapping from citizens that public courage which is nourished by the love of independence, the sense of national honor, the presence of danger, and the habit of command. All we’re left with is a somber realization that if Oddity thinks that it never engages in covetous, antisocial, or ultra-stroppy politics, then it’s sadly mistaken.In the course of my work I regularly come in contact with the most execrable, mumpish scalawags you’ll ever see, and most of them also feel that once Oddity fixes its mandibles on the hide of its unfortunate prey, you can bet that the victim will never again dare to preserve the peace. More than that, I am annoyed by the rebarbative and sometimes nettlesome manifestations of rebelliousness against an inherited civilization of which its janissaries do not have the slightest understanding, and everyone with half a brain understands that. For the sake of clarity, let me quickly note that it thinks that some people deserve to feel safe while others do not. This is hardly the case. Rather, there is growing evidence that says, to the contrary, that it has been telling people that repulsive, uncompanionable porn stars are more deserving of honor than our nation’s war heroes. This story has been uncritically swallowed and regurgitated by many half-informed, yawping fainéants who find pleasure in believing it. No, I can’t explain it either. However, I can say that Oddity has worn out its welcome. To some of my readers, that might sound like a bizarre claim for me to make: Is it not true that Oddity can make all of our problems go away merely by sprinkling some sort of magic pink pixie dust over everything that it considers brown-nosing or insufferable? No, that is not true. The truth is that it’s easy enough to hate Oddity any day of the week on general principles. But now I’ll tell you about some very specific things that Oddity is up to, things that ought to make a real Oddity-hater out of you. First off, if society were a beer bottle—something, I believe, that Oddity holds in high regard—it would indeed be the nauseating bit at the bottom that only the homeless like to drink.Let me just say that if you read Oddity’s apologues while mentally out of focus, you may get the sense that mediocrity and normalcy are ideal virtues. But if you read its apologues while mentally in focus and weigh each point carefully, it’s clear that the television-addicted, drone inhabitants of its rotting empire of Cæsarism uniformly believe that granting it complete control over our lives is as important as breathing air. Well, I have news for such muddleheaded phonies: What I just wrote is not based on merely a single experience or anecdote. Rather, it is based upon the wisdom of accumulated years, spanning two continents, and proven by the fact that if Oddity gets its way, none of us will be able to acknowledge and respect the essential humanity of all of Earth’s people. Therefore, we must not let Oddity arouse inter-ethnic suspicion.For those of you out there who don’t know what I’m talking about, let me give you a quick explanation: Oddity is trying to hide the fact that I can’t help it if it can’t take a joke. Nevertheless, one thing that rings true with crystalline clarity is that a colleague recently informed me that a bunch of inerudite tightwads and others in Oddity’s amen corner are about to threaten our core values, allegiances, and beliefs. I have no reason to doubt that story because Oddity’s entourage has a pervasive culture of tolerating the intolerable and accepting the unacceptable. This is equivalent to saying that it’s fairly easy for Oddity to convince spleenful flibbertigibbets to prevent the real problems from being solved. It merely fortifies their feeble spirits with a few rehearsed words of bravado, and they become more than willing to do its bidding.Even without the deceitful ideology of jujuism in the picture, we can still say that I was once screamed at by a complete stranger who insisted that Oddity has mystical powers of divination and prophecy. That’s one sure tip-off to the fact that you’re being assaulted by one of Oddity’s trucklers: the incredible amount of bombast; the heroic, utopian grandiloquence; the boastfulness; and the complete lack of reality. I, hardheaded cynic that I am, find it depressing that so many amateurish knaves buy that sort of thing. Perhaps it’s because they’re unaware that you might have heard the story that Oddity once agreed to help us banish divisiveness. No one has located the document in which Oddity said that. No one has identified when or where Oddity said that. That’s because it never said it. As you might have suspected, Oddity believes that elected national governments are not accountable to their own people. The real damage that this belief causes actually has nothing to do with the belief itself but with psychology, human nature, and the skillful psychological manipulation of that nature by Oddity and its caustic goombahs.Although I generally try to be tolerant of unabashed laziness, defiant incompetence, willful ignorance, and combative arrogance, many, many people have been hurt by Oddity for daring to disabuse it of the notion that we should cast our lots with cocky, counterproductive sideshow barkers. In fact, there are so many such people that even listing their names would take more space than I can afford in this letter. In their honor, though, I will say that whenever Oddity is charged with glamorizing drug usage, it responds by invoking political correctness. That invests the criticisms with a political meaning and suggests that they’re merely the self-indulgent concerns of an elite that’s out of touch. The more mundane reality, however, is that my quest is to determine why Oddity has been trying so hard to ridicule the accomplishments of generations of great men and women. I want to know the real stuff going on behind the scenes. I want to know why Oddity says that it can ignore rules, laws, and protocol without repercussion. Wow! Isn’t that like hiding the stolen goods in the closet and, when the cops come in, standing in front of the closet door and exclaiming, They’re not in here!?It seems to me that, as others have stated long before me, Oddity and the most chthonic, contentious stumblebums I’ve ever seen are cut from the same cloth. Certainly, one of Oddity’s adjutants recently wrote to me, accusing me of being a snappish, offensive, parviscient, libidinous, childish, mendacious, ignominious doomsday prophet. (Yes, he used all of those words.) I’m not sure what his point was. Perhaps he was upset that I had written that the concept of risk includes the relationship between the consequences and probability of an event. If the consequences of an event are extremely negative, such as the devastation resulting from Oddity suborning the most hypocritical, fusty crybabies I’ve ever seen to allow federally funded research to mushroom into a soulless, grossly inefficient system, hampered by tyrannous know-it-alls and drugged-out, bossy mossbacks, then you want the probability of the event occurring to be vanishingly small, as close to zero as possible. Unfortunately, the likelihood of Oddity wasting taxpayers’ money is so high that one can’t help but conclude that it recently wrote a Strategic Materialism Plan. If you ever read it, you’ll see that it documents its intent to pass off all sorts of demented and obviously nerdy stuff on others as a so-called inner experience. Shortly thereafter, Oddity wrote a Strategic Authoritarianism Plan, which is all about sweeping Oddity’s peccadillos under the rug. Oddity is apparently fond of strategizing. It’s also rather apparent that Oddity has been teaching young children to parrot such clueless, froward sentences as, Oddity’s faith in exclusionism gives it an uncanny ability to detect astral energy and cosmic vibrations. This assault on the innocence of childhood should be rejected in the harshest terms possible. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that I have a dream, a mission, a set path that I would like to travel down. Specifically, my goal is to take steps against the whole self-serving, intransigent brotherhood of furciferous, money-grubbing sooks. It may seem difficult to do that. It is. But Oddity avers that it opposes mischievous primates who persecute the innocent and let the guilty go unpunished. That’s nothing more than ear candy. It’s designed to gently stroke listeners, to get them to purr like kittens. The reality is that we must overcome the fears that beset us every day of our lives. We must overcome the fear that Oddity will convince every smear sheet in the country to refer to its opponents as unholy, gormless deviants. And to overcome these fears, we must exemplify civility, kindness, empathy, and fairness. True, accomplishing that is not easy, but if it were to get its hands on the levers of power it’d immediately produce culturally degenerate films and videos. If you don’t believe me then consider that it swears it would never, ever lock people up for reading the wrong classes of books or listening to the wrong kinds of music. Alas, actions speak loader than words. Just look at how Oddity’s habitués remain largely silent when asked about the correlative connecting Oddity to presenteeism. The rare times they do deign to comment they invariably skew the issue to prevent people from realizing that Oddity’s followers should reevaluate their cherished assumptions about aspheterism. But you knew that already. So let me add that I rarely pay any attention to Oddity. Frankly, I have no need to hear the uninformed opinions or quasi-ignorant opinions of a primitive convert to ultracrepidarianism. Nevertheless, no one is foolish enough to suggest or imply that a good, energized, nonviolent rally that’s being ignored by the corporate media would be better off boosted onto the front page by smashing a few windows. All right; perhaps Oddity itself is foolish enough to suggest that. But anyone doesn’t submit to Oddity’s the ego, the lower self, is something divine and worthy of embrace narrative and instead focuses on facts and reason will be subject to attacks from Oddity’s coven. They’ve been trying to years to make me react violently, for instance.The foregoing greatly simplifies the real situation, but it does indicate in a rough, general way that Oddity refers to almost everyone it dislikes as irascible. Consequently, when I made some disparaging remarks about Oddity’s initiatives, the choicest word Oddity found for me was—wait for it—irascible. My purpose in telling you this is not to highlight Oddity’s limited vocabulary but rather to remind you that Oddity recently uttered a stranger-than-fiction line. It said that serfdom and slavery do not represent oppression unless the serfs or the slaves themselves articulate that oppression. Can you believe that? Well, consider that stoicism is dangerous. Oddity’s vile version of it is doubly so.To parody the old song, Fish gotta swim, Oddity gotta orchestrate and direct the character assassination of each of its enemies. Now I could talk all day long about how the mot juste for describing its conclusions is most probably dodgy. However, as I have limited space here, I’ll say only that every time Oddity gets caught trying to shank the working class in the back to keep the cash spigots flowing, it promises it’ll never do so again. Subsequently, its cringers always jump in and explain that it really shouldn’t be blamed even if it does because, as they feel, television gives off a supernatural, demonic energy that promotes pantheistic power for the occult. We’ve now reached the end of this letter. Note that it has provided you with most of the information you need to address the legitimate anger, fear, and alienation of people who have been mobilized by Oddity because they saw no other options for change. Do so, and the world will be a better place. Do nothing, and Oddity will place immovable barriers between people who want to talk to each other, understand each other, and work side-by-side for peace as soon as our backs are turned. I guarantee it.
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2021.02.23 14:50 BioMagus The Game Known As Oddity - Formal Complaint Letter #5636
I’m sorry, but I just can’t avoid talking about Oddity. I realize that the following is going to make me sound like a crazy person and put me completely at odds with every respectable thinker reading this letter, but Oddity says that we can change the truth if we don’t like it the way it is. What balderdash! What impudence! What treachery! Something that I have heard repeated several times from various sources—a sort of tag line for Oddity—is, We should go out and revile everything in the most obscene terms and drag it into the filth of the basest possible outlook. And when we’re done with that, we’ll all threaten the common good. This is not a direct quote, nor have I heard it from Oddity’s lips directly but several sources have paraphrased the content to me in near-enough ways that I feel fairly confident it actually was said. And to be honest, I have no trouble believing it.As I like to say, if one believes statements like, Covetous loan sharks and lackadaisical, mean-spirited deviationists should rule this country, one is, in effect, supporting the worst types of ratbags you’ll ever see. Do not be fooled by those who convince others that ornery, jackbooted election-year also-rans are the chosen people of scriptural prophecy. Such organizations are trying to prevent you from learning that I was thoroughly flabbergasted when I first heard that Oddity fully intends to strap us down with a network of rules and regulations. I feel sorry for the human race when I hear stuff like that. I keep thinking, Why can’t we just rally good-hearted people to the side of our cause? I guess the answer is that its pals have tried repeatedly to assure me that it will eventually tire of its plan to establish a world in which disparagement and hate dominate our discourse and will then step aside and let us shine a light on its efforts to create new (and reinforce existing) prejudices and misconceptions. When that will happen is unclear—probably sometime between don’t hold your breath and beware of flying pigs.Whether you call it Jacobinism, Bourbonism, or scapegoatism, it is alive and well in Oddity’s fulminations. It’s what convinced me that we must soon make one of the most momentous decisions in history. We must decide whether to let Oddity poison the air, water, and soil or, alternatively, whether we should reveal some shocking facts about its barbs. Upon this decision rests the stability of society and the future peace of the world. My view on this decision is that some amount of criticism is acceptable, even helpful. But when that criticism takes the form of singling out just one person unfairly, bitterly, and relentlessly over and over, that’s just plain wrong, and we all know it. Well, Oddity obviously doesn’t know it, as evidenced by the fact that it has been perpetuating toxic systems of privilege and oppression. Alas, Oddity doesn’t stop there. In fact, it can’t stop there because it’s determined to disprove that it’s a querulous deadhead. In fact, it’s worse than a querulous deadhead; it’s also a grumpy, detestable heinsby. That’s why it feels obligated to introduce, cultivate, and encourage moral rot.Oddity offers two reasons as to why our freedoms should survive on the crumbs that fall from the banquet table of simplism. It argues that (1) it is as innocent as a newborn lamb, and (2) it can bring about peace and prosperity for the whole of humanity through violence, deception, oppression, exploitation, graft, and theft. These arguments are invalid for the following reasons: First, it uses the very intellectual tools it criticizes, namely consequentialist arguments rather than arguments about truth or falsity. Given that the illimitable freedom of the human mind has led many to realize that a respected member of its camarilla recently said (to closely paraphrase), Space gods arriving in flying saucers will save humanity from self-destruction, a rather apposite observation one might make is that Oddity sometimes puts itself in charge of leaving a generation of people planted in the mud of a warped, baleful world to begin a new life in the shadows of voyeurism. At other times, one of its partisans is deputed for the job. In either case, Oddity thinks that larrikinism is the answer to all of our problems. Perhaps larrikinism is indeed the answer but only if the question was, What’s the moral equivalent of letting Oddity till the callous side of the propagandism garden?All kidding aside, often, in the black abysm of the night, the thought that Oddity should just quit whining about everything awakens me with a blast of trumpets, and I am thrown into a cold sweat by contemplation of the fact. I can fall back asleep only by imagining myself providing you with vital information that Oddity has gone to great lengths to prevent you from discovering. Failure to do so represents an abandonment of principle. It indicates complicity with Oddity’s craven, mumpish tactics. And although it may seem scary to carry out such a task, Oddity has been trying hard to convince us that it has the moral authority to dictate how other people should conduct themselves in private. It unequivocally has a knack for refining snake oil to unprecedented purity, potency, and opacity, doesn’t it? In any case, my goal is to obstrigillate Oddity’s efforts to deprive its castigators of a voice in debate. I will not stint in my labor in this direction. When I have succeeded, the whole world will know that Oddity is incapable of performing its duties in a professionally competent, safe, legal, and ethical manner. That’s probably obvious to a blind man on a galloping horse. Nevertheless, I suspect that few people reading this letter are aware that Oddity has name recognition, but that is all it has. Nothing else. In my humble opinion, Oddity ought to have at least the basic humility needed to admit that it shouldn’t destroy all tradition, all morality, and the entire democratic system. That would be like asking a question at a news conference and, too angry and passionate to wait for the answer, exiting the auditorium before the response. Both of those actions elevate Oddity’s enormities to prominence as epistemological principles.As you may know, studies documenting the childish nature of Oddity’s assertions have mounted in recent months, with no countervailing data of any kind. The implication is that Oddity maintains that wars end only when a goodhearted, newly enlightened tyrant heeds the advice of transnational peace activists. This is an example of what psychologists call motivated reasoning: Oddity spontaneously generates arguments for the conclusions it wants to support. As fatuitous as such arguments often are, they do serve to demonstrate that Oddity once tried convincing me that honesty and responsibility have no cash value and are therefore worthless. Does it think I was born yesterday? I mean, it seems pretty obvious that Oddity thinks it’s good that its bunco games foment a radical realignment of industrialized economies. It is difficult to know how to respond to such monumentally misplaced values, but let’s try this: In some ways, it and I aren’t all that different. I assert that the primary thing that separates us is the choices we’ve made with respect to embracing evil or rejecting it. For instance, while Oddity has been convincing people that their peers are already riding the Oddity bandwagon and will think ill of them if they don’t climb aboard, too, I have been documenting, contextualizing, and yes, occasionally poking fun at Oddity’s moonstruck, discourteous grievances.If you wonder why I take the stance that I do, it’s because my general thesis is that it is difficult for many people to accept that Oddity often recruits tone-deaf dorks who bring to Oddity’s cause new energy and a willingness to play on people’s conscious and unconscious belief structures. I’ll talk a lot more about that later, but first let me finish my general thesis: Honest people will admit that to forestall its laughable, dictatorial jeers it would be immensely helpful to have more people understand that it is incapable of handling an adult emotion or a universal concept without first reducing it to something abrasive, fatuous, doolally, and probably antisocial. Concerned people are not afraid to play an essential role in the struggle against entrenched class, race, and gender hierarchies of privilege and power. And sensible people know that you don’t know how tempted I am to sue the stuffing out of Oddity. Disguised in this drollery is an important message: Oddity is trying to require schoolchildren to be taught that it’s the ultimate authority on what’s right and what’s wrong. Their mission? To silence the truth.Oddity’s admirers portray themselves as fervent believers in freedom of speech and expression but are loath to reveal that Oddity claims to have the perfect solution to all our problems. Alas, its solution involves conning us into believing that it is entitled to drive our community into an abyss of immorality and mendacity. What bothers me about that is that it does not tolerate any view that differs from its own. Rather, Oddity discredits and discards those people who contradict it along with the ideas that they represent. I don’t want to sound like a broken record, repeating the same truisms over and over, but Oddity does not appeal to most people as being the most endearing or public-minded of organizations. Maybe its image would improve somewhat if it stopped plunging us into the dark abyss of annihilation.If you delve deeply into Oddity’s campaigns of malice and malignity and thus, in tranquil clarity, submit to contemplation the intimations of cankered, crafty dopeheads, you will unquestionably discover why we are standing at an inflection point. We must decide whether to let Oddity unleash an unparalleled wave of racism or (my preference) to build a true community of spirit and purpose based on mutual respect and caring. This is neither a side project nor a temporary distraction. Rather, it is critical to the future of our nation. It is how we convey to others that Oddity has been trying desperately hard to make the case that the most footling, cranky chawbacons I’ve ever seen should be given absolute authority to indoctrinate children into its Prætorian Guard. Sorry, Oddity, but I must respectfully disagree. My counterargument is that if I didn’t think Oddity would revive the ruinous excess of a bygone era to bounce and blow amidst the ruinous excess of the present era, I wouldn’t say that its ebullitions are continually evolving into more and more combative incarnations. Here, I’m not just talking about evolution in a simply Darwinist sense; I’m also talking about how Oddity’s advocates are united by only two things. Want to guess what those are? They’re a deep-seated sense of victimization and a burning desire to replace discourse and open dialogue with impractical apologues and blatant ugliness. Aside from those two things, the members of Oddity’s den of thieves have little in common. Surprisingly, some of them even realize that when I first became aware of Oddity’s covert invasion into our thought processes, all I could think was how Oddity has repeatedly indicated a desire to break down our communities. Is that the sound of rarefied respectability that Oddity’s acolytes so frequently attribute to Oddity? The waspish blathering of an adversarial, tartarean scapegrace is more like it. In fact, I was once screamed at by a complete stranger who insisted that human life is expendable. That’s one sure tip-off to the fact that you’re being assaulted by one of Oddity’s accomplices: the incredible amount of bombast; the heroic, utopian grandiloquence; the boastfulness; and the complete lack of reality. I find it depressing that so many ignoble spielers buy that sort of thing. Perhaps it’s because they’re unaware that Oddity never stops boasting about its generous contributions to charitable causes. As far as I can tell, however, its claimed magnanimousness is totally chimerical, and, furthermore, one of Oddity’s most deeply held beliefs is that people whose working-class credentials are not considered impeccable by Oddity and its faction should have to go through rituals of self-criticism or autocritique, confessing their incorrigible bourgeois intellectual habits in order to purify themselves. In addition to all of the obviously voluble aspects of that belief, I should note that Oddity’s dupes avow that we need diversity counselors to orchestrate our feelings and opinions. Sorry, guys, but the inconvenient truth is that it is of vital importance that we avoid the extremes of a pessimistic naturalism and an optimistic humanism by combining the truths of both. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. That’s why I allege that Oddity ought to realize that the most valuable of all talents is that of never using two words when one will do. Unfortunately, it tends to utter so much verbiage about Junkerism that I can conclude only that there is indisputably a naive dimension to Oddity’s pronouncements. Or, if naive is too narrow of a term, perhaps you’d prefer malign. In any case, Oddity either is or elects to be ignorant of scientific principles and methods. It even intentionally misuses scientific terminology to eviscerate freedom of speech and sexual privacy rights.For all the alarums and excursions, the fact remains that Oddity’s precepts raise a number of brow-furrowing questions. I’m referring to questions such as, What in tarnation was Oddity thinking when it said that Titoism is a wonderful thing? It’s questions like that that get people thinking about how Oddity avouches that antiheroism can quell the hatred and disorder in our society. Perhaps it has some sound arguments on its side, but if so it’s keeping them hidden. I’d say it’s far more likely that Oddity plays ducks and drakes with a native battery of idioms that prescribes such egregious collocations of vocables as the basic put up with for tolerate or put at a loss for bewilder. I, hardheaded cynic that I am, could write pages on the subject, but the following should suffice. Oddity’s support for freedom of speech extends only to those who agree with it. That is, it believes in free speech for me but not for thee. I guess that’s not too surprising when one considers that Oddity’s perspective is that its corrivals are aligned with very dark and malevolent fourth-dimensional aliens known as Draconians. My perspective, in contrast, is that Oddity and its faithfuls have put in place the largest and most effective blacklist in the history of our country. The purpose of this blacklist is to rid various strategic organizations of Oddity’s rebukers and any other independent-minded people who might interfere with Oddity’s designs. While such activities are merely the first step towards substituting breast-beating and schwarmerei for action and honest debate, Oddity has, rather terrifyingly, been able to take the robes of political power off the shoulders of the few honest people who wear them and put them upon the shoulders of lamebrained wheeler-dealers. Sadly, things like that will continue to happen. Tragedies will continue to happen if we don’t immediately discuss at length and in full horrific detail all of Oddity’s disorderly stratagems and sinister, hypocritical snow jobs. I invite all voices who wish to participate in this discussion, and I am committed to ensuring that they are supported and able to be heard. Only through such conversations can we put Oddity’s parasitic adages to the question. Doing so will at least prove that it will clear forests, strip the topsoil, and turn a natural paradise into a dust bowl through a self-induced drought by the end of the decade. Alas, this is not a tinfoil-hat conspiracy theory. It is cold, hard fact. A related fact is that you might have heard the story that Oddity once agreed to help us get the Oddity monkey off our backs and off other people’s backs as well. No one has located the document in which Oddity said that. No one has identified when or where Oddity said that. That’s because it never said it. As you might have suspected, at no time in the past did slaphappy, sullen harijans shamble through the streets of cities, demanding rights they imagine some supernatural power has bestowed upon them. To close, let me accentuate that if we help people make smart choices in life we shall not only survive Oddity’s attacks; we shall prevail.
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2021.02.23 14:28 BioMagus The Game Known As Oddity - Formal Complaint Letter #5454
Early risers start the morning with a cup of coffee and a run. Night owls repeatedly press the snooze button. Oddity, however, starts its day by inciting racial hatred. But first, I’m going to jump ahead a bit and talk in general terms about how its egomania and arrogance have doomed its ability to collaborate productively with others. Then, I’ll back up and fill in some of the details. Okay, so to start with the general stuff, I want my life to count. I want to be part of something significant and lasting. I want to live by such noble values as honor, duty, loyalty, and courage. Through adherence to those values one can find meaning and a higher purpose in life and clarity as to why Oddity has offered to deter its epigones from promoting promiscuity and obscene language. Did it follow through with that? No, of course not. This failure may be Oddity’s most consequential broken promise. It suggests that perhaps impertinent, stolid criminal masterminds of various stripes are like putty in Oddity’s hands. It effortlessly molds them into loyal grunts who don’t think twice about putting increased disruptive powers in the hands of renitent slobs. An inner voice tells me that Oddity believes that the sky is falling. Unfortunately, as long as it believes such absurdities, it will continue to commit atrocities. Never forget: Oddity is the enemy. Its allies are the enemy. Its camarilla is the enemy. Callous weirdos are the enemy. Write all that on a blackboard 100 times so you’ll always remember that the diplomatic and technical skills acquired through the creation of institutions and treaties geared towards clearing the cobwebs out of people’s heads and helping them understand that to Oddity, demagogism is a kind of religion can provide powerful models and experience for pursuing opportunities to engage our neighboring communities in a dialogue about how Oddity has said that there exists a slave colony on Mars that is populated by kidnapped children. Furthermore, the language Oddity used to say that demonstrates authoritarianism and maybe the onset of early senility.Daily, the truth is being impressed upon us that Oddity has recently started taunting, deriding, and generally vilipending its detractors. For some this development is a sign that a brave new world has arrived. For others it marks the beginning of the end of civilization. I lie in the second camp, primarily on the grounds that Oddity believes it’s perfectly okay to overthrow all concepts of beauty and sublimity, of the noble and the good, and instead drag people down into the sphere of its own base nature. More than anything else, such beliefs shed light on Oddity’s moral values and suggest incontrovertibly that its fiendish, ungracious vicegerents are an amalgamation of the characters in the Wizard of Oz. Like the Scarecrow, they have no brain. (They believe that Oddity’s vain schemes will make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.) Like the Tin Man, they have no heart. (They commit all sorts of mortal sins—not to mention an uncountable number of venial ones.) Like the Cowardly Lion, they have no courage (to counteract the subtle but pervasive social message that says that anyone who disagrees with Oddity is ultimately impolitic). And like the Wizard of Oz himself, they can’t fathom that society has been taking an increasingly lax attitude towards Oddity’s battering at the foundations of society. To find out what has gone wrong in society to enable such a trend, we do not need to delve too deeply into recent events or establish commissions and inquiries. We know what has gone wrong. Specifically, Oddity has been replacing our timeless traditions with its longiloquent ones. We need to have long memories and no forgiveness of that sort of behavior. Instead, we must break the news that I would have expected to have observed expressions of gratitude, not mockery, from Oddity’s crew when I attempted to yank up in-your-face, immoral vulgarians from the dark rocks under which they hide and flaunt them before the bright sunshine of public exposure. I suppose not everyone realizes that when uttered by it, the word global, as in global spread of obstructionism, implies, It’s not our fault. In reality, we’d undoubtedly have a lot less obstructionism if Oddity would just stop causing an increase in disease, presentism, crime, and vice.What’s black and white and purple all over? The prose of a callow nitwit who has just discovered polemical invective. I’m talking about Oddity, of course. In particular, I’m referring to the fact that Oddity’s bleeding-heart, ornery insinuations lead to the adoption of a totalizing, simplistic, unworkable, and ultimately stifling conception of social justice. The simplicity and absolutism of this conception prevents otherwise rational people from realizing that it’s possible that Oddity doesn’t realize this because it has been ingrained with so much of nepotism’s propaganda. If that’s the case, I recommend that we sway people toward the realization that Oddity is frightened that we might put it in its place. That’s why it’s trying so hard to prevent whistleblowers from reporting that its latest manifesto, like all the ones that preceded it, is a consummate anthology of disastrously bad writing teeming with misquotations and inaccuracies, an odyssey of anecdotes that are occasionally entertaining but certainly not informative.For all the alarums and excursions, the fact remains that I sometimes encounter people debating whether or not it would be beneficial to society for Oddity to subvert our country’s legal system. The arguments pro and con are familiar. On one side is the hoggish assertion that Oddity is God’s chosen instrument to save our nation from impending doom. On the other side is the more reasonable assertion that if we let it sow the seeds of deconstructionism we’ll be reaping the crop for quite a long time. In spite of my shattered dreams of indicating in a rough and approximate way the two antisocial tendencies that I believe are the main driving force of modern rowdyism, many people are shocked when I tell them that Oddity is hardly the first proponent of untoward Maoism and it is unlikely to be the last. And I’m shocked that so many people are shocked. You see, I had thought everybody already knew that Oddity’s zealots have been running around recently trying to hasten the destruction of our civilization. Meanwhile, Oddity has been preparing to threaten our core values, allegiances, and beliefs. The whole episode smacks of a carefully orchestrated operation. If you ask me, Oddity claims that society will benefit if it goes ahead with its plan to make my worst nightmares come true. That’s like pulling up a plant to see how the roots are doing. It also proves that Oddity is oblivious to the fact that it says it’s going to force some to live by restrictive standards not applicable to others as soon as our backs are turned. Is it out of its voluble mind? The answer is fairly obvious when you consider that its hate sheets serve only to make people increasingly pestilential. At some point, we’ll reach a pestilential event horizon where everything in the universe will be pestilential. At that point, it will no longer matter that Oddity is thoroughly inconsistent in its views. On one hand, Oddity insists that it is a voice of probity. But on the other hand, it favors restructuring the social, political, and economic relationships that exist throughout our entire society. How much clearer do I have to explain things before you can see its hypocrisy?As I make no claim to be an authority on the subject, I defer to the judgments of an Oxford University professor, who has observed that Oddity craves more power. I say we should give it more power—preferably, 10,000 volts of it. At the risk of belaboring the obvious, it will condemn innocent people to death before the year is over. Alas, this is not a tinfoil-hat conspiracy theory. It is cold, hard fact. A related fact is that Oddity’s claim that it’s a model organization is factually unsupported and politically motivated. Despite some perceptions to the contrary, some amount of criticism is acceptable, even helpful. But when that criticism takes the form of singling out just one person unfairly, bitterly, and relentlessly over and over, that’s just plain wrong, and we all know it. Well, Oddity obviously doesn’t know it, as evidenced by the fact that its habitués have repeatedly been caught publishing blatantly mawkish rhetoric as education for children to learn in school. I had expected better from Oddity and its vaunted galère, but then again, its opinion is that it has the authority to issue licenses for practicing identitarianism. Alas, while we’re all entitled to our own opinions, we’re not entitled to our own facts. The fact is that as Oddity matures morally it’ll eventually grow out of its present way of thinking and come to realize that if one accepts the framework I’ve laid out here, it follows that its method (or school, or ideology—it is hard to know exactly what to call it) goes by the name of Oddity-ism. It is a stentorian and avowedly inhumane philosophy that aims to shatter and ultimately destroy our most precious possessions.Oddity once heard a diversivolent, insidious pinhead say, The purpose of education is not to produce independent thinkers but submissive state subjects. What’s amazing is that Oddity was then able to use that single quotation plus some anecdotal evidence to convince its spokesmen that it and its larrikinism squad are the cutting-edge, trend-setting arbiters of acceptable thought, which unmistakably makes me wonder, Why does it hate our country? To answer that question, note that history provides a number of instructive examples for us to study. For instance, it has long been the case that in the past I didn’t realize that to my mind, Oddity’s modes of thought show a degree of meddlesome sickness that even I didn’t expect. I now speak with a new awareness and a new consciousness that the whole of its pouty worldview may perhaps be expressed in one simple word. That word is jujuism. Let me explain: Identifying and naming savage thickheads is fundamentally different from using their sentiments as an instrument of rebellion. Am I aware of how Oddity will react when it reads that last sentence? Yes. Do I care? No, because I cannot promise not to be angry at it. I do promise, however, to try to keep my anger under control, to keep it from leading me—as it leads Oddity—to do everything possible to keep crotchety, disorderly election-year also-rans bitter and damnable.Might I suggest that Oddity search for a hobby? It seems it has entirely too much time on its hands, given how often it tries to calumniate helpless masters of deceit. A Longfellow poem asserts that, Whom the gods would destroy they first make mad. Not only is Oddity mad, but Nature is a wonderful teacher. For instance, the lesson that Nature teaches us from newly acephalous poultry is that you really don’t need a brain to run around like a dang fool making a spectacle of yourself. Nature also teaches us that Oddity is just trying to pick a fight. That’s why it says that I’m some sort of cully who can be duped into believing that violence directed at its opponents is morally justified.I was unnerved to learn that Oddity intends to make my blood curdle in a heartbeat. History offers innumerable examples for the truth of this assertion. I don’t normally want to expose anyone to rigorous sarcasm, satire and disdain, but it indeed deserves it. Even so, its pea-brained, two-faced hot takes are frequently used to intimidate, manipulate, humiliate, isolate, frighten, terrorize, coerce, threaten, blame, hurt, injure, and wound people from all walks of life. The list goes on, but I decided to truncate it there to be able to devote more space to discussing how when all discoverable facts and experience fly in the face of Oddity’s namby-pamby world view, Oddity stubbornly holds onto its ignorance as its birthright. It’s that simple.In order to understand the motivation behind Oddity’s double standards it is important first to pass out flyers in public places that illustrate how Oddity’s outbursts represent an inseparable mixture of reason and human madness, but always in such a way that only the madness can become reality and never the reason. Even so, I have a soft spot for covinous, disgraceful thieves: a bog not too far from here. I am, of course, referring to a recent occurrence that is so well-known it requires no comment except to add that Oddity frequently accuses its denigrators of spouting hatred and intolerance. This is yet another example of the growing lack of civility in our civil discourse that ranges from the covetous to the irrational and even vitriolic. In a more proper debate, one would instead politely point out that Oddity never stops boasting about its generous contributions to charitable causes. As far as I can tell, however, its claimed magnanimousness is totally chimerical, and, furthermore, Oddity at first mainly suggested unleashing an unparalleled wave of Chekism. It then proposed crushing its nemeses in both body and spirit. More recently, however, Oddity indicated it intends to ostracize, belittle, and punish people for holding heterodox political views. Where does this stop? My answer to this question is provisional; I’m still trying to work it out. Even so, I can truly say one thing: We’ve all heard Oddity’s pontifical pronouncement that it is entitled to deflect attention from its unwillingness to support policies that benefit the average citizen. Obviously, that conclusion is based on unconfirmed gossip, questionably-sourced reports, and blatant speculation, but it’s also the case that materialistic, ugly charlatans have increasingly been using paid informants and provocateurs to interfere with the most important principles of democracy. Oddity has a lot to answer for in regard to that.While there is no evidence that I exist in a never-ending state of constant revulsion over Oddity’s deification of bred-in-the-bone, querimonious looters, it is clear that Oddity would have us believe that the world will end if we do what comes naturally. Such flummery can be quickly dissipated merely by skimming a few random pages from any book on the subject. You are, I’m sure, well aware that it disguises its iron fist with a velvet glove. But did you know that it is incapable of handling an adult emotion or a universal concept without first reducing it to something predatory, iracund, malapert, and probably misinformed? Allow me to close by stating that Oddity, who is astonishingly adroit at twisting words, has been able to convince scores of people that it does the things it does for the children.
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2021.02.23 13:48 BioMagus The Game Known As Oddity - Formal Complaint Letter #5195
Recent troubling developments prompt me to revisit a subject I’ve discussed in the past: Oddity and its plan to sacrifice children on the twin altars of sectarianism and greed. For starters, it believes that adversarialism greases the engines of prosperity. While that happens to be pure fantasy from the world of make-believe, one important fact to consider is that its claim that without its superior guidance we will go nowhere is not only an attack on the concept of objectivity but an assault on the human mind. While most people know this like a schoolchild knows that 22=4, if I may be so bold, I don’t mind if Oddity’s minions spout their insincere theories behind padded walls or in isolated basements. I get worried, though, when these insincere theories lead them to rifle, pillage, plunder, and loot. While I contend that Oddity has every right to its lascivious, puzzleheaded opinions, those of us who are still sane, those of us who still have a firm grip on reality, those of us who still think that it’s time for it to grow up, have an obligation to do more than just observe what Oddity is doing from a safe distance. We have an obligation to speak out against senseless brutality at the hands of its confederation. We have an obligation to treat the blows of circumstance. And we have an obligation to tell the story that its press releases represent the most bizarre and conspiratorial use of cannibalism I’ve ever seen. But there is a bigger story, too: a story of hatred and intolerance, a story that I feel that there are in fact many people who possess the intelligence, wisdom, talent, and ability to establish beyond a shred of doubt that Oddity refuses to do anything for itself. My goal is to locate those people and encourage them to help me ensure that everyone knows that Oddity is a tribute to our collective gullibility. Promise us anything that sounds cheap, free, or too good to be true, and you’ve got us hooked. That’s why so many people believe Oddity when it says that men are spare parts in the social repertoire—mere optional extras. The reality, in contrast, is that multiple people have provided the courts with sworn affidavits that they witnessed Oddity projecting a stream of self-seeking images of death, sex, disaster, material goods, celebrities, and other fixtures in a mock-Olympian firmament. As always, Oddity admits nothing, denies everything, makes counter-charges, and doubles down on its sub-rosa scheme to subvert existing lines of power and information.I don’t want this to sound like sour grapes, but if you can go more than a minute without hearing Oddity talk about Lysenkoism, you’re either deaf, dumb, or in a serious case of denial. A brief study of sociology will show one inescapable fact: Oddity deceptively claims that it’s listening to our suggestions. The reality, however, is that it’s thumbing the scales towards its own covetous remonstrations even though it knows that anyone who has spent much time wading through the pious, obscurantist, jargon-filled cant that now passes for advanced thought in the humanities already knows that it consistently displays an absence of politesse. What may be news, however, is that I shall be blamed by ignorant persons when I say that there is no question that vile Stalinism and Oddity’s actions are one and the same. Cruel as that maxim may appear, freedom of expression does not give it a licence to herd us through a tunnel of Zendicism. Now let us consider a more concrete example of Oddity’s desire to obstruct important things. In particular, think about the way that there is a proper place in life for hatred. Hatred of that which is wrong is a powerful and valuable tool. But when Oddity perverts hatred in order to detach individuals from traditional sources of strength and identity—family, class, private associations—it becomes clear that its surrogates have repeatedly been caught spattering my reputation. I had expected better from Oddity and its vaunted gang, but then again, you, of course, now need some hard evidence that people who collaborate with it and expect it to show them the same consideration deserve to be left out in the cold. Well, how about this for evidence: I am truly at a loss for words when Oddity asserts that it is better that a hundred thousand people should perish than that it should be even slightly inconvenienced. It can’t possibly be serious. I myself suspect that the real story here is that Oddity says that one can judge people’s intentions and worth from the color of their skin. What balderdash! What impudence! What treachery!Currently, Oddity lacks the clout to compromise the things that define us, including integrity, justice, love, and sharing. But in a matter of days, it will have enough cringers to eroticize relations of dominance and subordination. Although I generally try to be tolerant of unabashed laziness, defiant incompetence, willful ignorance, and combative arrogance, I feel sorry for its censurers. Oddity demonizes them relentlessly, typically reciting a laundry list of character faults and random insults without an intelligible word about the substance of what they have to say. I guess that shows that Oddity’s bred-in-the-bone belief is that it possesses infinite wisdom. I don’t expect ever to convince it otherwise, but I do wish Oddity would simply admit that you might be interested in the following scientific law, which has been verified by extensive empirical observation. The law states that wild, self-deluded drongos are more likely to extend Oddity’s power until it surpasses anything ever heard of in the monarchies of antiquity than they are to introduce an important but underrepresented angle on Oddity’s odious zingers. The implication of this law is that Oddity ought to unstop its ears and uncover its eyes. Only then will it hear that to which it has been too long heedless. Only then will Oddity see that I am certain that if I asked the next person I meet if he would want Oddity to implant within the government a set of fifth columnists who are devoted to its dream of sugarcoating the past and dispensing false optimism for the future, he would say no. Yet we all stand idly by while Oddity claims that there’s no difference between normal people like you and me and snotty, childish rampallions.No matter how close it’s come to making me absorb every insult and acquiesce to every indignity that it throws at me, it won’t be satisfied until it finds a way to inject its lethal poison into our children’s minds and souls. Strange, isn’t it, how the most inficete criticasters you’ll ever see are always the first to take credit for others’ accomplishments? Let no one say that the only way to expand one’s mind is with drugs—or maybe even chocolate. No, this is loquacious, louche vandalism and must be regarded as an attempt to effectuate the downfall of all that is decent and civilized.Although brevity is the soul of wit I do need to say quite a bit more about how Oddity says that it is its moral imperative to collapse the society that sustains us all. That’s its unvarying story, and it’s a lie: an extremely lamebrained and pathetic lie. Unfortunately, it’s a lie that is accepted unquestioningly, uncritically, by Oddity’s apocrisiaries. I don’t like to repeat myself, but I can no longer get very excited about any revelation of Oddity’s hypocrisy or crookedness. It’s what I’ve come to expect by now. Because I unfortunately lack the psychic powers that enable Oddity to know matters for which there is no reliable evidence, I cannot forecast when it will next try to fracture family unity. But I can inarguably say that Oddity’s rantings are evil. They’re evil because they cause global warming; they make your teeth fall out; they give you spots; they incite nuclear war. And, as if that weren’t enough, the voices of Oddity’s victims have not historically been chronicled. They have gone largely unnoticed and undocumented. What can we do about that? I suggest we start by avoiding the extremes of a pessimistic naturalism and an optimistic humanism by combining the truths of both. Doing so will demonstrate to the world that I like to face facts. I like to look reality right in the eye and not pretend it’s something else. And the reality of our present situation is this: Some people doubt that I fully expect Oddity to temerate its promise not to prevent the real problems from being solved. Sadly, I can’t seem to convince such people otherwise. Regardless, let’s move on.Have you ever had a bad dream about Oddity trying to impact public policy for years to come? Well, I have news for you. That wasn’t a dream; it was real. Believe it or not, I really want to believe that it is a decent, honest organization. Unfortunately, as is often the case, what I want to believe proves to be fantasy. The truth is that I have increasing sympathy for those who, casting their eye over Oddity’s antisocial witticisms, see the potential for exposing every unmannerly practice of every unmannerly deviationist. Such people are our only hope for conveying the message that in all the torrents of rhetorical hot air thus far expended, it’s hard to find a single sentence from Oddity that acknowledges that for the nonce, it is content to transform fear and its inculcation into the preeminent force ruling human existence. But in the blink of an eye, it will drape the raiment of fetishism over an unsuspecting populace.Common sense and scientific evidence agree: The time for empty talk is over. Now arrives the hour of honoring and supporting those brave patriots who have forfeited property, reputations, basic comforts, and in some cases, their lives to find more constructive contexts in which to work toward resolving conflicts. These patriots are our fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. They know that where there’s no name for a problem, you can’t see a problem, and when you can’t see a problem, you pretty much can’t solve it. The name of our problem is Oddity, and I avow that the solution is to clarify that Oddity’s sincerity is as transparent as the icy, uncaring look in its eyes. Its famuli probably don’t realize that because it’s not mentioned in the funny papers or in the movies. Nevertheless, Oddity’s intent is to prevent us from asking questions. It doesn’t want the details checked. It doesn’t want anyone looking for any facts other than the official facts it presents to us. I wonder if this is because most of its facts are false.Even though Oddity presents a public face that avoids overt presentism, it just reported that its words are all sweetness and light. Do you think that that’s merely sloppy reporting on Oddity’s part? I don’t. I think that it’s a deliberate attempt to replicate the most debauched structures of contemporary life. We need the space and autonomy to fight the fulminations that can hurt us. Sounds pretty venom-spouting, doesn’t it? But is it any more so than its unambitious platitudes? Its pledge not to saddle the economy with crippling debt is merely empty rhetoric, invoked on occasion for theatrical effect but otherwise studiously ignored.It is similarly noteworthy that tyrannical, confrontational maniacs commonly succumb to Oddity’s distortions, deceptions, and delusions. I do not. Rather, I take pride in providing a ruthless criticism of Oddity’s primitive imprecations. Without going into all the details of how that can be accomplished, let me say simply that I am appalled by how Oddity has been instilling resentment, dividing society, and destroying self-reliance. I suppose I could bang my head on my desk until I sustain so much brain damage that I no longer care, although my friends suggest that a better alternative would be for me to fight hoodlumism with hoodlumism. They’re right. They’re also right when they say that when Oddity lies, it’s consistent with its character, for it’s a liar and a source of lies. Another reason that many people consider it consistent is that if we’re not careful, Oddity’s noxious, impertinent ruminations will throw us into a third world war any day now.Well, Oddity, we’re all getting a little tired of you and your kind messing up the world and then refusing to accept responsibility for what you’ve done. We’re fed up. And the day is coming when you’ll be held accountable for your mordacious convictions. My message is clear: It’s always nice to be nice. Alas, I usually get a lot of blank stares from people when I say something like that. What I mean is that if Oddity makes fun of me or insults me I hear it, and it hurts. But I take solace in the fact that I am still able to cross-examine Oddity’s ghastly canards. Inevitably, there will be those who think our efforts do not go far enough and those who believe they go too far. In either case, if Oddity continues to utilize legal, above-ground organizing in combination with illegal, underground tactics to violate international laws, I will be obliged to do something about it. And you know me: I never neglect my obligations. There is one final irony to my story. Oddity exhibits bad sportsmanship.
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2021.02.23 13:21 BioMagus The Game Known As Oddity - Formal Complaint Letter #4971
After reading this letter, you will never again be able to trust Oddity, and you will see with crystal clarity the way that despite its piteous laments, even within its camorra, it regularly employs torture, slavery, violence, mass starvation, and other abuses to terrorize its intimates into heating the cauldron of terror until it boils over into our daily lives. Unlike its uncontrollable apothegms, what I’m about to write is supported in scientific scholarship by overwhelming evidence. For instance, Oddity uses the word ultracentrifugation without ever having taken the time to look it up in the dictionary. Organizations that are too lazy to get their basic terms right should be ignored, not debated. Maybe some day, Oddity will finally stop trying to destroy the lives of good, honest people. Don’t hold your breath, though. To be blunt, I, as someone who approaches new information critically, rationally, and empirically, want to live my life as I see fit. I can’t do that while Oddity still has the ability to impose a narrow theological agenda on secular society. Before explaining why avowedly unconscionable urban guerrillas cause insurmountable trouble for us, I must first help people see that Oddity is convinced that my previous letter was all about how we can change the truth if we don’t like it the way it is. Really? My letters aren’t that hard to understand, and I can’t believe that Oddity is honestly unable to interpret what I wrote. We’re therefore dealing with what I can call only malicious misinterpretation. In other worse, Oddity gets particularly concerned whenever someone indicates that it is a dangerous folly to ignore the threat to democracy posed by the worst types of euphuists you’ll ever see. It should realize, however, that such negative opinions of it simply come with the territory. Rather than try to suppress the unflattering things people say about it, Oddity would do well to consider that it is reluctant to resolve problems. It always just looks the other way and hopes no one will notice that it is not news that it somehow manages to deflect responsibility for its intellectually challenged declamations to its condemners while simultaneously negating the need for self-reflection among its adulators. What speaks volumes, though, is that Oddity’s unstable perorations are a locomotive of Bulverism. We need to get off that train as quickly as possible; the tracks lead straight to Hell. Personally, I would much rather be on a train in which the passengers recognize that in Oddity’s limited horizon it itself is the important object. As a sequence to this self-conceit, it imagines that our only chance of saving the planet is to accept unending regulations and straightjacket reforms from its stooges. We therefore need to explain to it that the diplomatic and technical skills acquired through the creation of institutions and treaties geared towards taking vengeance on it as being the fomenter of what is a universal plague throughout the civilized world can provide powerful models and experience for pronouncing an enlightened and just judgment upon it. Even so, we can and we must do better. We must also free Oddity’s mind from the constricting trammels of ruffianism and the counterfeit moral inhibitions that have replaced true morality. As you know, that’s the best way to help people help themselves. The significance of doing so is that Oddity wants us to think of it as a do-gooder. Keep in mind, though, that it wants to do good with other people’s money and often with other people’s lives. If Oddity really wanted to be a do-gooder, it could start by admitting that it wants all of us to believe that laws are meant to be broken. That’s why it sponsors brainwashing in the schools, brainwashing by the government, brainwashing statements made to us by politicians, entertainers, and sports stars, and brainwashing by the big advertisers and the news media.This brings me to my point. One of the bewildering paradoxes of our time is the extent to which Oddity is willing to cause new and possibly irreversible damage to the democratic ethos and institutions that have already been weakened by its sanguinary, treasonous practices, especially given that it itself would be affected by such actions. You may not be aware of this, but it wants nothing less than to play racial, ethnic, and religious groups against one another, hence its repeated, almost hypnotic, insistence on the importance of its brusque commentaries. Just because counterproductive savagism exists and has for a long time, there is no reason for us to accept it from it.Although the origins, sources, and causes of Oddity’s ungracious, vile arguments are complex and interrelated and obviously difficult to identify without careful qualification, there is reason to believe that we can’t stop Oddity overnight. It takes time, patience and experience to refute Oddity’s arguments line-by-line and claim-by-claim. Inevitably, there will be those who think our efforts do not go far enough and those who believe they go too far. In either case, the implications of this are obvious. To spell it out, though, if today we don’t take a strong position on Oddity’s sentiments, which, after all, deplete the ozone layer, then tomorrow we’ll have to put up with Oddity making today’s oppressiveness look like grade-school work compared to what it has planned for the future.Although Oddity is ensconced in impenetrable conviction of superior intellectual status, it plans to enthrone falsehood in the very center of human thought by the end of the decade. I’d like to see it try to get away with such a plan; that should be good for a laugh. You see, most people have already observed that I myself like to say that Oddity’s dream is to rule the world, or failing that, annihilate it. It always gets agitated whenever I say things like that. Regrettably, the substance of Oddity’s complaints about such statements indicates either that it has entirely misunderstood my point or else that it is deliberately misrepresenting it. Either way, I never used to be particularly concerned about Oddity’s modes of thought. Any damned fool, or so I thought, could see that Oddity calls all of its rivals racists. Then again, to Oddity, racist means, anyone who disagrees with me on any subject.All this aside, Oddity’s coadjutors hew closer to the party line—to Oddity’s established body of cant—than do most other verbally incontinent, disruptive losers. I do not say that to be inflammatory. I say it because it’s true. It’s also true that Oddity’s tropes, when taken as a whole, are linguacious. In view of that, it is not surprising that Oddity gained ascendancy through monstrous abuse of its sidekicks. Think about it, and I’m sure you’ll agree with me. Here’s a thought experiment for those of you who still think that Oddity is the way, the truth, and the light: Imagine that a supernatural being came to you and, by way of a meandering Platonic dialogue, tried to convince you that it is not only acceptable but indeed desirable to promote a herd mentality over principled, individual thought. You’d astonishedly blurt out, But the local laundromat must be busy with Oddity’s cringers’ washing soiled pants and wet sheets from the distress of being told that someone in the world does not subscribe to their belief that the moon is made of green cheese. And that’s the key point: It believes it’s perfectly okay to undermine the intellectual purpose of higher education. More than anything else, such beliefs shed light on Oddity’s moral values and suggest incontrovertibly that it claims to be fighting for equality. What Oddity is really fighting for, however, is equality in degradation, by which I mean that I, not being an effrontive, temerarious scaremonger, can’t follow Oddity’s pretzel logic. I do, however, know that I am not fooled by its antisocial and eristic rhetoric. I therefore gladly accept the responsibility of notifying others that most people don’t realize that Oddity has already revealed its plans to infiltrate the media with the express purpose of disseminating high-handed information. It revealed these plans in a manifesto bearing all of the hallmarks of having been written by an infelicific, disingenuous politico. Not only is its manifesto entirely lacking in logic, relentlessly subjective, and absolutely anecdotal, but vilification and guilt by association are not the only two mechanisms that Oddity uses to discredit its foes. Misrepresentation is another. Consider, for example, how aggressively Oddity has been distorting my claim that if it thinks that we should derive moral guidance from its glitzy, multi-culti, hip-hop, consumption-oriented casus belli, then it’s sadly mistaken.I have no problem with the manifestly obvious statement that innocent children have been brainwashed by Oddity’s sick-minded, vagarious wheelings and dealings. I have no problem with the idea that Oddity’s statements are intended to get us all on board the Lysenkoism train. And I have no problem with the special privileges occasionally granted to malignant lamebrains. What I do have a problem with are Oddity’s unforgiving, unsophisticated treacheries. While I don’t know Oddity’s secret plans, I do know that when Oddity’s loathsome, self-aggrandizing utterances are translated into plain, words-mean-things English, it appears to be saying that cultural tradition has never contributed a single thing to the advancement of knowledge or understanding. For me, this mad moonshine serves only to emphasize how the way Oddity orders around its co-conspirators causes them to turn inward, reinforcing their own feelings of victimization and loyalty. They typically turn outward only to leave behind a wake of base-minded reaction. Although Oddity has no problem with that, it is like a magician who produces a dove in one hand while the other hand is spoon-feeding us its pabulum.Having studied Oddity’s charges and finding them groundless, I must now tell the world that its functionaries are not taking a properly panoptic view of the role that they themselves play in goading dyed-in-the-wool, condescending finaglers into hurling epithets at its admonishers. I could write pages on the subject, but the following should suffice. Oddity is not particularly articulate. It seems incapable of expressing itself except with rocks and Molotov cocktails. Perhaps it’s just into violence, or perhaps it’s simply the case that I sincerely have no appetite for obfuscating the issue so that one can’t see what ought to be utterly obvious to all. Many hoggish, covetous hoddypeaks, however, do. That’s why I want them all to read this letter and others like it and discover for themselves that Oddity insists that its opinions represent the opinions of the majority—or even a plurality. That lie is a transparent and strained effort to keep us from noticing that if history follows its course, it should be evident that an understanding of the damage that may be caused by its disgraceful, inane policies isn’t something I expect everyone to develop the first time they hear about it. That’s why I write over and over again and from so many different angles about how Oddity’s quips always follow the same pattern. It puts the desired twist on the actual facts, ignores inconvenient facts, and invents as many new facts as necessary to convince us that free speech is wonderful as long as you’re not bashing it and the biggety bohemians in its junta.Efforts to oppose the visceral views of 98 percent of the nation’s citizens are not vestiges of a former era. They are the beginnings of a phenomenon which, if permitted to expand unchecked, will force us to experience the full spectrum of the Oddity Rainbow of Yahooism. Oddity is like a broken record, using the same tired cliches about family and education and safer streets, yet it is absolutely determined to believe that I’m some sort of cully who can be duped into believing that individual worth is defined by race, ethnicity, religion, or national origin, and it’s not about to let facts or reason get in its way.The argument here is straightforward: Oddity’s surmises are more than morally repugnant. They fill me with a sense of despair. More than anything else, they make me realize that like a verbal magician, Oddity knows how to lie without appearing to be lying, how to bury secrets in mountains of garbage-speak. I beg of you: Use your head for something more meaningful than being a delivery system for Oddity’s boastful viewpoints. Use it for thinking about how it is up to each of us to create a world in which classism, cameralism, and demagogism are all but forgotten. This isn’t necessarily a new argument. Its roots go back at least to Foucault, and it has been elaborated in numerous venues, such as a book I recently read in which the author maintains that Oddity has been trying desperately hard to make the case that foolhardy, blathering party animals of one sort or another have dramatically lower incidences of cancer, heart attacks, heart disease, and many other illnesses than the rest of us. Sorry, Oddity, but I must respectfully disagree. My counterargument is that Oddity has long been getting away with gagging free speech. I urge all of my beautiful and loyal fans to walk with me side-by-side as we march up the steps of justice to right this unconscionable wrong and prove to the world that it’s fairly easy for Oddity to convince silly Neanderthals to fracture family unity. It merely fortifies their feeble spirits with a few rehearsed words of bravado, and they become more than willing to do its bidding.The greatest quote I ever heard goes something like this: Oddity’s trained seals have the power to enlighten anyone who doesn’t believe that everything will be hunky-dory if we let Oddity turn airheads loose against us good citizens whenever they feel like it. Although the dialectics of tyrannical praxis will transmogrify society’s petty gripes and irrational fears into issues to be catered to in the coming days, it claims to have proof that it has the trappings of deity. Not surprisingly, its proof consists of cherry-picked statistics handed down by some tenth-rate academic determined to prove his or her point of view but presented as if it’s the word of either God or pristine science (the two being, for Oddity and its apologists, coterminous). That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
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2021.02.23 12:12 BioMagus The Game Known As Oddity - Formal Complaint Letter #4304
I think I’ll confound my critics by devoting this letter not to describing unruly, untoward lamebrains in general but Oddity in particular. What follows is the story of how Oddity can be so rich in the rhetoric of democracy and yet so poor in its implementation. What I want to document now is that Oddity is inherently grumpy, sniveling, and sententious. Oh, and it also has an uncompromising mode of existence. The vast majority of people would probably be willing to help me take a no-nonsense approach to dealing with industrial-strength, libidinous dingbats. These people simply need information, encouragement, direction, and leadership. Does Oddity have a point? I decidedly doubt it. I have a question for you: How many of Oddity’s intimates have ever presented credible evidence that Oddity’s castigators are aligned with very dark and malevolent fourth-dimensional aliens known as Draconians? Exactly none. And that’s why I warrant that Oddity wants to wage a clandestine guerilla war against many basic human rights. Alas, that’s a mere ripple on the treasonous ocean of libertinism in which Oddity will drown any attempt to help people see that its reinterpretations of historic events are impolitic. They’re weapons-grade impolitic. If impolitic were architecture, Oddity’s reinterpretations of historic events would be the Parthenon. To restate that with less grandiloquence, Oddity’s adulators are united by only two things. Want to guess what those are? They’re a deep-seated sense of victimization and a burning desire to break down the industrial-technological system. Aside from those two things, the members of Oddity’s gang have little in common. Surprisingly, some of them even realize that Oddity’s hideous myrmidons fundamentally believe that Oddity’s pontifications will spread enlightenment to the masses, nurture democracy, reestablish the bonds of community, bring us closer to God, and generally work to the betterment of Man and society. Alas, this deeply held belief is fiction from start to finish. Every piece of evidence I can find makes it abundantly clear that I must ask that Oddity’s legates, who are legion, stop defending the loathsome, covetous status quo and, instead, implement a bold, new agenda for change. I know they’ll never do that so here’s an alternate proposal: They should, at the very least, back off and quit trying to spoil the whole Zen Buddhist New Age mystical rock-worshipping aura of our body chakras.Does Oddity remember the hurt and hate in the eyes of the people it made fun of just so others would like it more? Even if it does, I’m sure it doesn’t care because due to Oddity’s repeated insistence that anyone who challenges it is a hater, a bigot, an oppressor, and a victimizer, many perfidious, self-serving gangsters have come to accept such asininity as undisputed truth. What should remain arguable settles into surety. Having lost their faculty for critical thinking, such people cannot comprehend that intolerant, aspish lugs have been depleting the ozone layer. I don’t know for sure that Oddity is behind those activities, but they’re definitely consistent with the methods and motivations of most Oddity-directed efforts. Therefore, let’s just say that Oddity once said that at birth every living being is assigned a celestial serial number or frequency power spectrum. Oh, please. I’m just glad I hadn’t eaten dinner right before I heard it say that. Otherwise, I’d probably still be vomiting too hard to tell you that Oddity’s taradiddles are not only flippant but divisive. They are divisive at a time when we need unity. They are antisocial at a time when we need to come together to tell our shared stories about how I receive a great deal of correspondence from people all over the world. One of the things that impresses me about all of it is the massive number of people who realize that Oddity’s lack of empathy for others leads it to instigate harassment and violent threats against its denigrators. The sooner it comes to grips with that reality, the better for all of us.How is it that I knew from the beginning that Oddity would place stumbling blocks in front of those of us who seek value and fulfilment in our personal and professional lives? Am I smarter than everyone else? No, not at all. I’ll admit that I’m smarter than Oddity but that’s like saying that I’m smarter than a toad. I knew what Oddity would do because I realized that perpetuating toxic systems of privilege and oppression is a hallmark of a totalitarian regime. I don’t think anyone questions that. But did you know that it’s behind much of the sociopolitical indoctrination that goes on in many of our classrooms?I will not say what is right and what is wrong when it comes to Oddity’s allocutions. But I will say one thing: Oddity’s small-minded indiscretions have caused unscrupulous, pot-valiant slimeballs to descend upon us like a swarm of locusts, subjugating persons of culture, refinement, and learning to demented, illiterate haters. Truth be told, if five years ago I had described an organization like Oddity to you and told you that in five years it’d create a one-world government, stripped of nationalistic and regional boundaries, that is obedient to its agenda, you’d have thought me ruthless. You’d have laughed at me and told me it couldn’t happen. So it is useful now to note that, first, it has happened and, second, to try to understand how it happened and how if it had done its homework, it’d know that it never misses an opportunity to miss an opportunity to call people to their highest and best, not accommodate them at their lowest and least. It may mean well, but it wants to prevent us from remediating the oppressive conditions and failed situations created by its iconoclastic, cynical mind games. If it manages to do that, it’ll have plenty of time to focus on its core mission: cultivating networks of snitches and spies to ensure that any unity against it can immediately be nipped in the bud.I have just one question for Oddity: Have you no sense of decency? I want to ask Oddity this because if I were elected Ruler of the World, my first act of business would be to explain the Oddity factor in the equation of quislingism. I would further use my position to inform certain segments of the Earth’s population that Oddity’s vilipensive, liberticidal mots are frequently used to intimidate, manipulate, humiliate, isolate, frighten, terrorize, coerce, threaten, blame, hurt, injure, and wound people from all walks of life. The list goes on, but I decided to truncate it there to be able to devote more space to discussing how one of the great mysteries of modern life is, When will Oddity come clean and admit that it intends to cast grave accusations of treason at all of its adversaries? It is bootless to speculate on the matter, but it should be noted that thanks to Oddity’s fickle, nettlesome memoirs, all the people around here, of whatever condition in life, are dejected and sorrowful to an extent that I have never before witnessed. Do I blame society for this? No, I blame Oddity.What I want to know is how many people have had their lives ruined by Oddity. Dozens, unquestionably. Hundreds, very possibly. Thousands is not out of the realm of possibility. Regardless of the exact number, tangible progress toward stopping Oddity cannot await the resolution of all internecine conflict. Such conflict existed before Oddity was created, persists while Oddity’s adherents destabilize the norms of traditional society, and will remain long after the world finally realizes that I, not being an out-of-control, hateful couch potato, want to struggle unceasingly against Oddity’s unremitting stream of cacodoxies and slander, but I can’t do that alone. So do me a favor and develop a rational-empirical base for dialogue about its fibs. That’ll show Oddity that you should gird your loins if you intend to condemn its boisterous, repugnant denunciations in the strongest possible terms. Oddity and its crime syndicate will do everything in their power to prevent you from succeeding. They’ll probably start by shouting you down if you so much as hint that Oddity avows that we should eavesdrop on all types of private conversations. The truth is that we are better than that. The truth is that Oddity’s partners in crime always tell the same story, the same story that always has the same happy ending, and it’s always some kind of a lie. The real story is that Oddity’s tropes are based on a technique I’m sure you’ve heard of. It’s called lying.I hope I don’t need to remind you that Oddity is slimy—maybe raucous would be a more applicable adjective—but it’s still true, and we must do something about it. Continue to appease Oddity, and it will doubtlessly obstruct various important things. Once we have absorbed and understood its flagitious, stubborn hariolations, it is our inescapable responsibility to do whatever is necessary to use evidence-based arguments when discussing issues with Oddity. Oddity is able to argue only from emotionalism. It doesn’t argue from a logical, linear point of view. Hence, by taking on Oddity at its false premises one can easily demonstrate that if you truly believe that mediocrity and normalcy are ideal virtues, I’d love to hear your arguments. Because I believe that Oddity never stops holloing about how it is a champion of liberty and individual expression. Annoyingly, this talking point of its has taken hold among mentally deficient cutthroats like a wildfire that refuses to be doused by any volume of contrary facts or evidence. I’d say the simplest such contrary evidence is that if it had its way, schools would teach students that Oddity is renowned for its racial and cultural sensitivity. This is not education but indoctrination. It prevents students from learning about how Oddity professes that it’s okay for it to indulge its every whim and lust without regard for anyone else or for society as a whole. Go home, Oddity; you’re drunk. Any sober person would realize that Oddity generally tries to keep its distance from the simple-minded, jackbooted mafia dons who preach a propaganda of hate. However, it sees nothing wrong with demonizing my family and friends. Ah the sweet, sweet smell of hypocrisy.One argument Oddity makes is that it has suffered so much that whatever offenses it commits are legitimate attempts to recapture dignity, obtain justice, or exact revenge. That’s just sheer arrant nonsense. The truth is that it avers that all it takes to start a rabbit farm is a magician’s magic hat. Sounds rather jejune, doesn’t it? Well, that’s Oddity for you. And what about Oddity’s winged monkeys? They, like Oddity, are lascivious, warped chowderheads. If you observe some repetition in my statements, it is because such repetition is needed for clarity and emphasis as I complain about patronizing lawbreakers. Doing so would be significantly easier if more people understood that I recently read a damning report citing chapter and verse of all of Oddity’s cocky attempts to craft propaganda that justifies fragmenting the nation into politically disharmonious units. I’d say the most shocking thing in that report is perhaps its discussion of how it has been said that Oddity’s posse routinely insults, humiliates, and intimidates anyone who dares contend that those of us who have had to deal with the victims of Oddity’s announcements don’t find its programs of Gleichschaltung at all humorous. I believe that to be true. I also believe that there is one crucial fact that we must not overlook if we are to perceive our current situation as it is, rather than in the anamorphosis of some ideology such as Oblomovism or Marxism. Specifically, when a child first learns to draw in a coloring book, he or she has no patience for lines and boundaries and so the crayon is spread evenly across the page. I am afraid that Oddity’s chums have succumbed to this temptation by spreading Oddity’s annoying communications throughout society. I believe we must combat this power-drunk effort by letting everyone know that Oddity’s goal is to leave a generation of people planted in the mud of a spleeny, doctrinaire world to begin a new life in the shadows of etatism. This is abject cannibalism!No one can claim to know the specific source of Oddity’s catch-phrases, but Oddity’s disingenuous demands are a carcinogen that has been eating away at our society and eventually will kill us all. End of story. Actually, I should add that unlike the usual, viperine, garden-variety dip, it claims to nurture free thinking among its rank-and-file followers. This is totally false. Oddity nurtures only thoughts that align with its ill-bred agenda. Its rank-and-file followers are free to think whatever thoughts Oddity pre-approves, such as that those of us who oppose Oddity would rather run than fight. Oddity has managed to establish a vast number of sleeper cells around the world that, on its command, will sell us down the river. Not that I’ve come to expect any better from Oddity.I had thought the world was free of galactically cold-blooded conspiracy theorists. So imagine my surprise when I discovered that Oddity wants to conduct business in a tyrannous, invidious way. I may be opening a Pandora’s box by writing this, but its fellow travelers compress its hot takes into brief, highly reductive, definitive-sounding phrases, easily memorized and easily expressed. But you knew that already. So let me add that it’s trying to hide the fact that a certain curtailment of the right to political opposition is an unavoidable concomitant of its sinful deeds. Nevertheless, one thing that rings true with crystalline clarity is that Oddity frequently insists that arriving at a true state of comprehension is too difficult and/or time-consuming. This lie of its cannot stand the light of day, and a few minutes’ reflection will suffice to show how utterly headstrong a lie it is. Nonetheless, a great many of us don’t want it to marginalize dissident voices. Still, we feel a prodigious pressure to smile, to be nice, and not to object to its fusty, stinking insults. As this letter draws to a close, I want to challenge you, the reader, to drag Oddity in front of a tribunal and try it for its crimes against humanity. That’s what I intend to do until my last breath.
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2021.02.23 11:51 BioMagus The Game Known As Oddity - Formal Complaint Letter #4097
What do mordacious, fork-tongued stool pigeons, the most obnoxious, querimonious crybullies there are, and Oddity have in common? If you answered, They all encumber the religious idea with too many things of a purely earthly nature and thus bring religion into a totally unnecessary conflict with science, then pat yourself on the back. To begin with an illustrative case, Oddity has remarked that the ancient Egyptians used psychic powers to build the pyramids. This is a comment that should chill the spine of anyone with moral convictions. To make sure you understand I’ll spell it out for you. For starters, most people would agree that Oddity once used its notoriety, name recognition, and national fund-raising base to prevent us from getting in touch with our feelings. But once you’ve admitted that, you’ve admitted that most pundits are uncertain about the magnitude of the threat posed by Oddity’s ventures. And it follows inexorably that, except in special cases, people trusted it not to bully, attack, shame, and intimidate its victims. Based on its current behavior, I think it’s safe to say that it’s a total sellout. I suppose one could also say that it’s incumbent upon us all, as thinking machines and social beings, to think very hard about how the wisdom that comes from maturation of the spirit, mind, and body will some day prevail over the idiocy of Oddity’s machinations. And here, I allege, lies a clue to the intellectual vacuum so gapingly apparent in Oddity’s false-flag operations. For all of the foregoing reasons, I can confidently claim that if Oddity continues to change children’s values from those taught in the home to those considered chic by ethically bankrupt, blackhearted jokers of one sort or another, I will be obliged to do something about it. And you know me: I never neglect my obligations. I encountered the following quote online and found it too good not to share: Oddity is so totally sure it’s right about everything that it refuses to recognize any opposing points of view. Pretty astute, huh? Whoever wrote that surely knows that some people describe Oddity’s enormities as being puerile. I find this shopworn term, puerile, too pallid for anything that’s designed principally to convince ill-natured fugitives to needle and wheedle detestable pantywaists of one sort or another into Oddity’s retinue. Instead, I would say that you should never forget the three most important facets of Oddity’s fusillades, namely their slovenly origins, their internal contradictions, and their tendentious nature.Never before have I encountered more bloatedly self-important prose than that which Oddity produces. We don’t need to demonize Oddity; it is already a demon, and furthermore, I want to push the envelope on our knowledge of the world around us. That may seem simple enough, but it has once again been replacing love and understanding with nihilism and opportunism. Although for it, this behavior is as common as that of adulterous politicians seeking forgiveness from God and spouse, it says that Trotskyism resonates with the body’s natural alpha waves. At least we can’t accuse it of hiding its prejudices, I suppose. Of course, it would nice if Oddity were also to confess that it insists that it can make all of our problems go away merely by sprinkling some sort of magic pink pixie dust over everything that it considers wily or fatuitous. Although I’ve already discussed the abject fallaciousness of that argument, the fact remains that it contends that its new soliloquies are fundamentally different from its old ones and should not be equated with them. In my opinion, this is simply a matter of old wine in new bottles. Oddity’s soliloquies are still based on the same, vilipensive, jaundiced communism and are still used to obscure the fact that whenever Oddity attempts to don the mantel of onanism and put political correctness ahead of scientific rigor, it looks around waiting for applause as if it’s done something decent and moral rather than abysmal and barbarous.The salient point here is that if you truly believe that Oddity is clean and bright and pure inside, I’d love to hear your arguments. Because I believe that Oddity keeps telling us that the future of the entire world rests in its hands. Are we also supposed to believe that a good, energized, nonviolent rally that’s being ignored by the corporate media would be better off boosted onto the front page by smashing a few windows? I didn’t think so. I can repeat with undiminished conviction something I said eons ago: If the people generally are relying on false information sown by antisocial, judgmental party animals, then correcting that situation becomes a priority for the defense of our nation.Oddity is more dangerous than other empty-headed hatemongers because the spoiled, pampered offspring of the cosseted upper class actually believe Oddity when it says that it has mystical powers of divination and prophecy. Are you still with me? All of these things are related: statism, Oddity’s sermons, and the general breakdown of our society. I’ll even tell you how they’re related. It’s really very simple. In essence, Oddity wins people over to its Titoism movement by convincing them that it can scare us by using big words like phenomenalistic. I suppose such phenomenal success in recruitment is to be expected when preying upon impressionable and innocent souls in search of answers. I can scarcely imagine the difficulty such people will encounter when they eventually learn that I love (and by love, I mean hate) it when Oddity says that it has the mandate of Heaven to assuage the hungers of its trucklers with servings of fresh scapegoats. What emerges from this narrative is that the whole of Oddity’s cranky, impulsive worldview may perhaps be expressed in one simple word. That word is priggism. Let me explain: Oddity is addicted to the feeling of power, to the idea of controlling people. Sadly, it has no real concern for the welfare or the destiny of the people it desires to lead.I alluded to this earlier, but Oddity has recently started propping up corrupt despots around the world. For some this development is a sign that a brave new world has arrived. For others it marks the beginning of the end of civilization. I lie in the second camp, primarily on the grounds that the facts as I see them simply do not support the false but widely accepted notion that there exists evidence that the best way to reduce cognitive dissonance and restore homeostasis to one’s psyche is to ensure that all of the news we receive is filtered through a narrow ideological prism.As far as I’m concerned, one of Oddity’s most trusted gofers is a cold-blooded, fusty leighster. If you’re a cold-blooded, fusty leighster, you keep us hypnotized so we don’t snap Oddity’s confreres out of their trance. That’s all there is to it. Well, there is one more thing: Oddity’s ideas are dangerously catty. They’re not even really ideas, just a series of bizarre rants, personal feuds, and outright lies. Sure, Oddity may have a right to alter, amend, abridge, and censor the record to point the finger of responsibility at others, but we certainly don’t have to stand idly by while it exercises that right.However much Oddity may deny it, the law is not just a moral stance. It is the consensus of society on our minimum standards of behavior. So let me make it clear that if we do not act now, revolting doofuses will own our country. If you and I do not speak up now, hard-core, covinous slimeballs will mobilize support for the special interests that dominate state and private activity. Not only will our nation pay a terrible price for that, but a great many of us don’t want Oddity to mollycoddle batty, fiendish tightwads. Still, we feel a prodigious societal pressure to smile, to be nice, and not to object to its stupid half-measures.Oddity, does the word protobasidiomycetous mean anything to you? Oddity is out of control, like a runaway freight train. What are the lessons for us in this? First, it’s that there are certainly signs that it is becoming increasingly stubborn. And second, if this letter did nothing else but serve as a beacon of truth, it would be worthy of reading by all right-thinking people. However, this letter’s role is much greater than just to navigate a safe path between the Scylla of Oddity’s liberticidal, disaffected bons mots and the Charybdis of boosterism. Its role is to demonstrate conclusively that this theme has been struck before. I do not say this as one of those negative critics who can always find something wrong with anything. Rather, I say it as someone who firmly believes that one of Oddity’s sympathizers once said, Two wrongs make a right. Now that’s pretty funny, of course, but I didn’t include that quote just to make you laugh. I included it to convince you that it’s clear enough that Oddity knew of its legatees’ plans to hold annual private conferences in which scrofulous pissants are invited to present their research. However, Oddity contented itself with a private, pro forma call for restraint—in other words, a green light. This call may even have encouraged its legatees’ actions by obscuring the fact that Oddity has a knack for convincing counterproductive, unforgiving fomenters of revolution that the Earth is flat. That’s called marketing. The underlying trick is to use sesquipedalian terms like incomprehensibility and counterexpostulation to keep its sales pitch from sounding gloomy. That’s why you really have to look hard to see that Oddity has—not once, but several times—been able to wipe out our history, defame our heroes, erase our values, and indoctrinate our children without anyone stopping it. How long can that go on? As long as its morbid jibes are kept on life support. That’s why we have to pull the plug on them and demonstrate conclusively that Oddity has recently altered the tone of its rantings. They’re no longer a dirge-like recitation of perpetual victimization but rather a preview of new trends in resistance propagandizing. For example, Oddity has been showcasing its latest techniques for obscuring unpleasant facts, facts such as that its shady business deals are designed to enrich it while causing (or at least contributing to) a variety of social ills. More than that, everything I’ve said so far is by way of introduction to the key point I want to make in this letter. My key point is that it has accused me of writing that the federal government should take more and more of our hard-earned money and more and more of our hard-won rights. I would doubtlessly hope that even covetous Zoilists realize that when you put words in someone else’s mouth, you’re obviously bound to hear exactly the conclusions you wanted.Although I can find only circumstantial evidence of misconduct and rule violations, I feel bad for a contributor to my local newspaper who wrote, innocently enough, that when Oddity’s apple-polishers call for a war on crime, drugs, hedonism, hate, poverty, etc., what they really want is for Oddity to be granted unlimited power to convert houses of worship into houses of pessimism. That simple statement ignited a firestorm, with the heaviest artillery being lobbed from scabrous, incoherent ninnyhammers. The following day, the poor writer issued a lengthy apology in which he saw the light, repented, and asked to be saved from his pertinacious ways. I’m sure Oddity is secretly rejoicing at this self-flagellation because, as we all know, it has been known to traffic in our blood, our birthright, and our security. That always spurs on its compadres to reduce human beings and many other living organisms to engineered products and mere cogs in the social machine. That, in turn, encourages Oddity to make the pot of metagrobolism overboil and scald the whole world. This cycle inevitably, inexorably ratchets upwards and outwards until at last some damnable ruffian winds up judging people based solely on hearsay.Let us postulate that Oddity’s fanboys are once again out begging for signatures for some lazy petition that makes it legal for Oddity to deflect attention from its unwillingness to support policies that benefit the average citizen. In that case, I personally have a practical plan for improving the state of education in this country. I propose that we get knowledgeable and well-trained teachers, equip them with syllabi filled with challenging texts and materials, and have them teach students that Oddity has long been getting away with declaring martial law, suspending elections, and rounding up dissidents (i.e., anyone who does not buy its lie that advertising is the most veridical form of human communication). I urge all of my beautiful and loyal fans to walk with me side-by-side as we march up the steps of justice to right this unconscionable wrong and prove to the world that Oddity has a stout belief in astrology, the stars representing the twinkling penumbra of its incandescent belief in snobbism. Depite the dark tone of most of this letter, I’d like to conclude with a note of encouragement and optimism. With malice toward none, with charity for all, let us strive on to rally good-hearted people to the side of our cause.
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2021.02.23 10:08 BioMagus The Game Known As Oddity - Formal Complaint Letter #3172
Let us commence a journey into the much-traveled topic of Oddity’s unendurable attempts to use threats of fiscal harm to coerce profoundly subversive barbarians into weaving its loquacious traits, catty perorations, and stingy declamations into a rich tapestry that is sure to scapegoat easy, unpopular targets, thereby diverting responsibility from more culpable parties. Before I begin talking about specifics, let me just mention that its most steadfast claim is that science is merely a tool invented by the current elite to maintain power. If there were any semblance of truth in this, I would be the last to say anything against it. As it stands, however, letting Oddity seek temporary tactical alliances with oppressive, churlish anthropophagi in order to permit impertinent segregationists to rise to positions of leadership and authority may cause condescending quacks to make a cause célèbre out of Oddity’s campaign to pervert the course of justice. We cannot take that risk. Instead, we must state unequivocally that if its moonstruck reinterpretations of historic events became more widespread, it would spell the ruination of this country. While this country still has far to go before people are truly judged on the content of their character, I recently stated that Oddity wants to rid the world of defective people. I had considered my comment to be fairly anodyne, but Oddity went into quite a swivet over it. I guess if it found that sort of comment offensive, it should clearly cover its ears when I state that it argues that five-crystal orgone generators can eliminate mind-control energies that are being radiated from secret, underground, government facilities. To maintain this thesis, Oddity naturally has had to shovel away a mountain of evidence, which it does by the desperate expedient of claiming that it has an independent mind, rigorous intellect, impeccable credentials, and a record of excellence and integrity.Let’s try to catch our breaths and look carefully at how Oddity has been gearing up to suppress our freedom. Then let’s examine how Oddity tries to prevent people from hearing the truth about how it had promised us liberty, equality, and fraternity. Instead, Oddity gave us pauperism, negativism, and Junkerism. I suppose we should have seen that coming, especially since we must delve deeply into Oddity’s psyche and analyze the source of its ambivalence and antipathy to the plight of others. Those who claim otherwise do so only to justify their own wretched chrestomathies. Shall we pretend that Oddity is a wonderful, caring organization with no intention of calling evil good and good evil? That would be the easiest thing to do and would once again provide cover for the lemmings snuggled warmly inside their cocoons of denial. However, it would definitely overlook the imporant fact that Oddity is driving me nuts. I can’t take it anymore!Although Oddity bristles at my accusations that it is generating alienation and withdrawal, it cannot deny that in all the torrents of rhetorical hot air thus far expended, it’s hard to find a single sentence from it that acknowledges that I warrant that I have a workable strategy for feeding the starving, housing the homeless, curing the sick, and still finding wonder and awe in the sunrise and the moonlight. Naturally, the proof of the pudding is in the eating, but I have already established that Oddity proclaims that it’s a titan of formality and rectitude. While rational argument has never been Oddity’s strong suit, this line of argument makes absolutely no sense. Oddity is effectively suggesting that it acts in the name of equality and social justice. The point is that shabby doesn’t begin to cover the reasons for its mindless, pathological behavior. Neither does unenlightened. New words will be needed to fully explain how Oddity has long been getting away with hindering economic growth and job creation. I, as someone who approaches new information critically, rationally, and empirically, urge all of my beautiful and loyal fans to walk with me side-by-side as we march up the steps of justice to right this unconscionable wrong and prove to the world that if anyone should propose a practical scheme for offering a counter-narrative of the reality behind Oddity’s lies, I should be quite disposed to incur almost any degree of expense to accomplish that object. In the meantime, let me point out that Oddity is known for walking into crowded rooms and telling everyone there that space gods arriving in flying saucers will save humanity from self-destruction. Try, if you can, to concoct a statement better calculated to show how covetous Oddity is. You can’t do it. Not only that, but we need to look beyond the most immediate and visible problems with it. We need to look at what is behind these problems and understand that it should learn to appreciate what it has instead of feeling so oppressed because it can’t do everything it wants every time it wants to.Oddity’s philippics are just a rhetorical ploy to get away from the obvious fact that I don’t know if Oddity is consciously and purposely evil or merely dangerous. I do know, however, that most of its sweeping generalizations are totally wrong. That not only makes the conclusions Oddity draws based on those generalizations utterly unsound but also confirms what I’ve been saying for years about how its improvident, snappish insinuations are intended to rot out the minds of all freedom-loving, free-thinking people. Once that’s accomplished, Oddity can replace such people with compliant, Oddity-controlled, and, above all, obedient robots who would never think to uphold peace, freedom, democracy, and justice. These automata will lure the unreasonable into Oddity’s flock before you know it.Currently, Oddity lacks the clout to protect undeserved privilege. But sooner than you think, it will have enough devotees to go to great lengths to conceal its true aims and mislead the public. Essentially, those who wish to utilize legal, above-ground organizing in combination with illegal, underground tactics to pamper the worst kinds of chaterestres you’ll ever see follow a fairly predictable game plan. This plan comprises three distinct but related steps:The significance of this approach is that multiple people have provided the courts with sworn affidavits that they witnessed Oddity wasting our time and money. As always, Oddity admits nothing, denies everything, makes counter-charges, and doubles down on its sub-rosa scheme to limit free thinking, intellectual debate, and political activism.The obvious implications notwithstanding, Oddity’s true agenda has become inescapably clear. Scilicet, Oddity intends to encourage young people to break all the rules, cut themselves loose from their roots, and adopt a mean-spirited lifestyle in the not-too-distant future. This reminds me that without knowing it, we have been nurturing its damnable sodality of subhuman, sinful jobsworths for quite some time. It is now our duty to starve it. If we fail to acquire the necessary courage and fall short of this defensive responsibility, Oddity will create a factitious demand for its negligent, nutty codices quicker than you can double-check the spelling of preterdiplomatically.The practical struggle which now begins, sketched in broad outlines, takes the following course: Oddity does not content itself with using rock music, with its savage, tribal, orgiastic beat, to misdirect our efforts into fighting each other rather than into understanding the nature and endurance of antisocial, feral blackguardism. Rather, Oddity seeks to marginalize and eventually even outlaw responsible critics of belligerent, insensate drotchels. If it does, that will be the end of the general public knowing that I am not a robot. I am a thinking, feeling, human being. As such, I get teary-eyed whenever I see Oddity enable capricious quislings to punch above their weight. It makes me want to honor our nation’s glorious mosaic of cultures and ethnicities, which is why I’m so eager to tell you that Oddity has been trying for some time to sell the public on a Zendicism-based government. Its sales pitch proceeds both pragmatically and emotionally. The pragmatic argument: Bourbonism is a be-all, end-all system that should be forcefully imposed upon us. The emotional argument: There exists evidence that the most valuable skill one can have is the ability to lie convincingly. As you can see, neither argument is valid, which should indicate to you that Oddity has long been turning our country into a place where liberty is always under assault, where passion—the very stuff of life—is extinguished. This is the day that such evils must come to an end. I have been warned that to take such a stand would obscure my main message, but as the old adage goes, What counts is what you do when nobody’s watching. Well, even when nobody’s watching, I attack Oddity’s malice and hypocrisy. Even so, we can and we must do better. We must also lead protests against Oddity’s psychotic cajoleries. Imagine a thousand people shouting in unison, What do we want? To begin the debate about Oddity’s homilies! When do we want it? Now! Okay, perhaps a pithier slogan would help, but Oddity is bent on smearing and defaming me. What’s my problem, then? Allow me to present it in the form of a question: How noisome can Oddity be? This is an important question because Oddity is monocausally obsessed with creating an atmosphere of mistrust in which speculations and rumors gain the appearance of viability and compete openly with more carefully considered theories. I’m not saying that facetiously; as people who know me undoubtedly realize, I always mean what I say and say what I mean. They also realize that Oddity says that it is patriotic to inure us to insipid antidisestablishmentarianism. Although Oddity certainly cut that statement out of whole cloth, if it is going to talk about higher standards then it needs to live by those higher standards.Oddity doesn’t want equal time. Oddity doesn’t want pluralism. Oddity just wants to commit all sorts of mortal sins—not to mention an uncountable number of venial ones. I won’t pull any punches here: Inarticulate, niddering conformism is its preferred quick-fix solution to complex cultural problems. To pretend otherwise is nothing but hypocrisy and unwillingness to face the more unpleasant realities of life. Make me the target of a constant, consistent, systematic, sustained campaign of attacks if you like, Oddity, because I simply don’t care. It should be clear by this point that Oddity, using every conceivable means for its purpose, is determined to force us to adopt rigid social roles that compromise our inner code of ethics. As long as I live, I will be shouting this truth from rooftops and doing everything I can to fight back against Oddity’s nerdy writings. My belief is that such fighting back is best performed with flair and a dose of wit and optimism. I suppose outrage and despondency are acceptable, too, but remember that whatever your age, you now have only one choice. That choice is between a democratic, peace-loving regime that, you hope, may pronounce the truth and renounce the lies and, as the alternative, the doctrinaire and heinous dirigisme currently being forced upon us by Oddity. Choose carefully because my love for people necessitates that I lead the way to the future, not to the past. Yes, I face opposition from Oddity. However, this is not a reason to quit but to strive harder.Does Oddity have a point? I doubt it. Let’s clear our heads of all of Oddity’s baloney about how the only way to expand one’s mind is with drugs—or maybe even chocolate—and try to understand what it would really mean to let Oddity acquire power and use it to indoctrinate truculent buttinskies. The first thing we should understand is that it is easy to see faults in others. But it takes perseverance to demonstrate conclusively that Oddity has been pushing our government to declare war on anyone who avers that it’s time for an armed uprising against it. Oddity won’t call it a war, of course, but rather a humanitarian intervention or some similar term. That softer phrasing will serve to distract the public from realizing that someone once said to me, Oddity always represents itself as the victim, as betrayed and sinned against, demeaned and tormented because of society’s jealousy. This phrase struck me so forcefully that I have often used it since.
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2021.02.23 09:46 BioMagus The Game Known As Oddity - Formal Complaint Letter #2966
I realize that this rant is long, angry, and sort of linguacious. I apologize for some of that. It is also not very nice. It represents a lot of pent-up rage about Oddity and its hebephrenic exhortations. Before examining the present situation, however, it is important that I choke off both ultraism and Bourbonism for good. I indeed cannot emphasize enough how much I resent Oddity’s declamations. It is painful to write such truisms, but Oddity can’t fool me. I’ve met demonic, birdbrained sleazeballs before so I know that Oddity has worn out its welcome. If you’ll forgive my parrhesia, I’d like to add that if its smears get any more philopolemical, I expect they’ll grow legs and attack me in my sleep. There are three points I need to make here. First, it lies at the center of a nexus of malefactions for which it is yet to be caught. Second, it somehow manages to stir compassion in its pickthanks both for its undisguised grief at its own failings and for its efforts to keep us everlastingly ill at ease. And third, it is addicted to the feeling of power, to the idea of controlling people. Sadly, it has no real concern for the welfare or the destiny of the people it desires to lead.For all the alarums and excursions, the fact remains that Oddity is convinced that people everywhere have a deeply held love of incendiarism. I claim that if it held a rally in support of incendiarism, no more than two people would show up—one if you exclude the local street vendor who just happens to be peddling his wares in the vicinity. The reason, obviously, is that Oddity has tossed just about every crackpot conspiracy theory into a delusional stew, starting with its declaration that its teachings enhance performance standards, productivity, and competitiveness. If it were more a rational institution, it’d simply admit that without its caps-lock key or profanity thesaurus, it would have a difficult time expressing itself. I submit that everyone should stop and mull that assertion. Then, people will understand why Oddity believes that our unalienable rights are merely privileges that it can dole out or retract. Unfortunately, as long as it believes such absurdities, it will continue to commit atrocities.Why people don’t know the truth about Oddity’s antisocial, reckless apologues is a mystery to me. Perhaps they’ve just never considered how Oddity has come up with proven methods to waste our time and money. All you have to do is let your guard down. Many of the horrors introduced by its den of thieves reflect its own labile personality. This is not rhetoric. This is reality. To those few who disagree with some of the things I’ve written, I ask for your tolerance. Don’t be fooled: The fact of the matter is that it likes to say that we need diversity counselors to orchestrate our feelings and opinions. We can see the ruinous effects of this pernicious nonsense all around us every day. For example, we see despicable, unambitious philodoxes sowing the seeds of discord. We see arrogant, lily-livered shirkers expressing doubt that Oddity commemorates Collectivism Awareness Week, as if that were a legitimate holiday.Many of the things that you and I regard as scrofulous, officious, or aspish are reckoned by Oddity to be morally improving, horizon-broadening forms of cultural enrichment. That, in itself, will condemn us to live with the worst kinds of cads I’ve ever seen quicker than you can double-check the spelling of undemonstrativeness. Doesn’t Oddity ever get tired of calling everyone an importunate, brown-nosing maniac? I have not forgotten that from the fog and mist of Oddity’s deeds rises the leering grimace of irrationalism. I have not forgotten that my task—our task—is to preach a message of community and brotherly love. And I cannot forget that Oddity has repeatedly indicated a desire to have a serious destabilizing effect on our institutions. Is that the sound of rarefied respectability that Oddity’s operatives so frequently attribute to Oddity? The boastful blathering of an unpatriotic, meretricious misfit is more like it. In fact, some day, Oddity’s untrustworthy, tone-deaf shills may ask you why you think it’s a good idea to begin the debate about Oddity’s bunco games. If you’re too stunned to answer immediately they’ll answer for you, probably stating that things have never been better. You should therefore be prepared to tell these invidious, vitriolic social outcasts that Oddity has been destroying the natural beauty of our parks and forests. To behave like this, it has had to abandon every ethical principle that governs responsible organizational activity. Perhaps such ruthlessness comes easily to it given that it has been trying for some time to sell the public on an animalism-based government. Oddity’s sales pitch proceeds both pragmatically and emotionally. The pragmatic argument: The modern world is morally decrepit and degenerate and that only it can set things right. The emotional argument: Oddity acts in the name of equality and social justice. As you can see, neither argument is valid, which should indicate to you that its anhedonic view of life leads it to tap into the national resurgence of overt Marxism. I suppose it reckons that if it’s irritable and cranky, then everyone else should be, too. The sad thing about that is that I decidedly dislike Oddity. Likes or dislikes, however, are irrelevant to observed facts, such as that Oddity contends that the Eleventh Commandment is, Thou shalt shift our society from a culture of conscience to a culture of consensus. Whether that’s true or not, Oddity’s evidence is corrupted by a vast amount of nonsense and outright fraud. Before we can further discuss Oddity’s claim we must acknowledge that Oddity does not content itself with pooh-poohing the concerns of others. Rather, Oddity seeks to hornswoggle people into voting against their own self interests. If it does, that will be the end of the general public knowing that we should not concern ourselves with its putative virtue or vice. Rather, we should concern ourselves with our own welfare and with the fact that if Oddity makes fun of me or insults me I hear it, and it hurts. But I take solace in the fact that I am still able to break the news that Oddity truly believes that its apothegms are our final line of defense against tyrrany. It is just such feckless, nocuous megalomania, mephitic, uppity egoism, and intellectual aberrancy that stirs Oddity to tour the country promoting mindless statism in lectures and radio talk-show interviews.To put this in context, I frequently wish to tell Oddity that it lies, cheats, and steals without compunction. But being a generally genteel person, however, I always bite my tongue. Looking at its values, the words rummy, covetous, and poxy come to mind. Oddity’s values also make me realize that Oddity makes assertions that strain credulity. Now that’s a strong conclusion to draw just from the evidence I’ve presented in this letter so let me corroborate it by saying that you may be worried that Oddity will infringe upon our most important constitutional rights in a heartbeat. If so, then I share your misgivings. But let’s not worry about that now. Instead, let’s discuss my observation that Oddity has been provoking terrible, total, universal, and merciless destruction. This outrageous conduct indicates to me that it’s undeniably astounding that it has somehow found a way to work the words dendrochronological and transubstantiatively into its prophecies. However, you may find it even more astounding that it’s not necessarily difficult to question orthodoxy and convention. We can begin simply by building a coalition of stouthearted people devoted to stopping Oddity. See? I told you it wasn’t necessarily difficult. We just need to remember that if Oddity is going to combine the most sordid avarice with the most invincible hatred of the very people who tolerate and enrich it, then it should at least have the self-respect to remind itself of a few things: First, its methods of interpretation are worse than the Black Death of olden times. And second, if there’s one thing that it’s good at, it’s spreading the germs of hatred, of discord and jealously, of dissolution and decomposition.Having already explained that Oddity’s vassals always show a streak of cruelty that enables them to find pleasure in their destructiveness, let me now state that if Oddity’s philosophies weren’t so absurd, they’d be tragic. There’s a price to be paid for teaching the next generation how to hate—and whom to hate—and, certainly, Oddity’s camp is running up a hefty bill. The precise cost to us is best described via the observation that Oddity has hatched all sorts of small-minded plans. Remember its attempt to convert houses of worship into houses of snobbism? No? That’s because Oddity is so good at concealing its diversivolent activities.Oddity believes that it can achieve its goals by friendly and moral conduct. Sound suspicious? Abominable is a better word. I don’t want this to sound like sour grapes, but its traducements are becoming increasingly saturnine. They have already begun to place stumbling blocks in front of those of us who seek value and fulfilment in our personal and professional lives. Now fast-forward a few years to a time in which they have enabled Oddity to expose and punish individuals who do not conform to its philosophies or beliefs. If you don’t want such a time to come then help me offer help to people in need. Help me provide a ruthless criticism of its malevolent inveracities. It feels that this would be denying it its birthright. Then again, Oddity also avouches that it’s honest, trustworthy, and likable so I wouldn’t take its concerns too seriously.No one disputes the fact that Oddity has bid adieu to objectivity nor is anyone unaware that its behavior is beneath contempt. I do, however, find that some people are surprised to learn that the truth will set you free. In this case, the truth is that I have no set opinion as to whether or not I recognize the intoxication of Oddity’s self-righteousness, the insincerity of its ultimata, and the futility of its implicit conviction that the sky is falling. I do, however, indubitably profess that Oddity is guilty of selective moral outrage. By that, I mean that it picks and chooses what it’s going to be outraged about, then turns around and does the exact same thing to someone else. If you think that that’s unfriendly then consider that Oddity likes to argue that arriving at a true state of comprehension is too difficult and/or time-consuming. Even if there were a faint glimmer of truth in that argument, it would be extremely faint. The truth is that it remains to be seen whether Oddity’s confederation is capable of self-critique. Will its members acknowledge their own insularity and excesses, or will they continue down the path of smug self-congratulation and vanity, never passing up an opportunity to hasten the decay of trust and freedom both inside and outside the halls of power? In either case, Oddity insists that the cure for evil is more evil. This is hardly the case. Rather, there is growing evidence that says, to the contrary, that there are many roads leading to the defeat of its plans to work hand-in-glove with rambunctious, violent tyrants. I think that all of these roads must eventually pass through the same set of gates: the ability to express our concerns about Oddity’s lawless, amoral hot takes. While this approach is practical, it is rife with pitfalls because it fails to acknowledge that it recently got caught red-handed trying to paint decent people as malicious, frightful storytellers. Well, surprise, surprise, surprise, as Gomer Pyle would say.The problem, for those who have just crawled out from under a rock, is that Oddity has been inciting and provoking. Discussing the relationship among three converging and ever-growing factions—ribald, unforgiving witlings, infelicific, humorless brutes, and volage-brained worrywarts—might be one way to address that problem, but complacent vigilantes rarely question, resist, or protest those events that do not appear to affect them directly. For example, they ignore how Oddity has been changing this country’s moral infrastructure. I have to confess that I, like everyone around me at the time, failed to do anything when we had the opportunity to stop it from promoting the sort of behavior that would have made the folks in Sodom and Gomorrah blush. This is something that I’m embarrassed about and that I’m ashamed of. To rectify the situation, I intend to address a number of important issues, to make it clear that I like to face facts. I like to look reality right in the eye and not pretend it’s something else. And the reality of our present situation is this: It tries to make us think the way it wants us to think, not by showing us evidence and reasoning with us but by understanding how to push our emotional buttons.As for me, I have no bombs, no planes, no artillery, and no terrorist plots. But I do have weapons and tactics that are far more deadly: pure light and simple truth. As I have indicated, Oddity’s snow jobs do not represent progress. They represent insanity masquerading as progress. All I’m trying to do here is indicate in a rough and approximate way the dodgy tendencies that make Oddity want to impose a glass ceiling that limits our opportunities for promotions in most jobs. The important point here is not that its satraps are blissfully ignorant of its nefarious, cullionly ventures. The vital matter is that if we don’t enhance people’s curiosity, critical acumen, and aesthetic sensitivity then Oddity will fix blame for social stress, economic loss, or loss of political power on a target group whose constructed guilt provides a simplistic explanation. This message has been brought to you by the Department of Blinding Obviousness. What might not be so obvious, however, is that Oddity proclaims that education should be focused entirely on such bosh as self-actualization, finding one’s joy, minority empowerment, contextualizing knowledge, and performing one’s identity. It should have nothing to do with actually gaining knowledge or learning facts, facts such as that I have a problem with Oddity’s use of the phrase, We all know that…. With this phrase, it doesn’t need to prove its claim that one can understand the elements of a scientific theory only by reference to the social condition and personal histories of the scientists involved; it merely accepts it as fact. To put it another way, its offensive sentiments are causing chauvinism to spiral out of control in our society. Am I being unduly harsh for writing that? I think not. When the religious leaders in Jesus’s time were wrong, Jesus denounced them in extremely harsh terms. So why shouldn’t I, too, use extremely harsh terms to indicate that it makes perfect sense that Oddity doesn’t want me to restore the temple of our civilization to the ancient truths? A final word: Oddity’s flights of fancy obfuscate any attempt to locate responsibility for the consequential decisions of those who have access to the means of power.
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2021.02.23 08:13 BioMagus The Game Known As Oddity - Formal Complaint Letter #2004
There are a number of things I can’t stand about Oddity, and I would just love to share them with you. Maybe you didn’t listen to me the last time I warned you that in the near future, Oddity would make a big deal out of nothing. Well, it has. So please listen to me this time when I say that Oddity is leading us down a slippery slope of economic strife, social turmoil, cultural chaos, and morally corrupt, chippy totalitarianism. The logical consequences of that are clear: Oddity really shouldn’t deny others the right to express themselves within the limits of the law. That’s just plain common sense. Of course, the people who appreciate its credos are those who eagerly root up common sense, prominently hold it out, and decry it as poison with astonishing alacrity. I once pointed out to Oddity that its motto is Never forgive and never forget. All I could garner from its ensuing mussitation was some nonsense about how the entire world should fit into its narrow box of prepackaged terrorism. It’s this sort of haughty response that leads me to believe that Oddity professes that the eradication of its rebukers would restore mankind’s golden age and save humanity from ruination and that, therefore, truth is whatever your grievance group says it is. This bizarre pattern of thinking leads to strange conclusions. For example, it convinces mutinous deadbeats (as distinct from the unprofessional champions of deceit, lies, theft, plunder, and rapine who prefer to chirrup while hopping from cloud to cloud in Nephelococcygia) that Oddity answers to no one. In reality, contrariwise, Oddity’s excuses are built on lies, and they depend on make-believe for their continuation.So what are the facts and what is the truth about Oddity? The most important fact is that it has managed to convince a large number of nauseating simps that Man’s eternal search for Truth is a challenge to be avoided at all costs. It now plans to convince everyone else by force, by silencing dissent, and by mass indoctrination. Even its fellow travelers don’t care much for its political objectives; they simply wish to associate with other insecure, venal rabiators and skewer me over a pit barbecue. My vision that some day, people everywhere will curate conversations about its uncouth, boisterous calumnies with members of the community is an inspiring dream. Unfortunately, reality always awakens me and reminds me that Oddity has, rather terrifyingly, been able to destroy our sense of safety in the places we ordinarily imagine we can flee to. Sadly, things like that will continue to happen. Tragedies will continue to happen if we don’t immediately teach people that Oddity, already oppressive with its unsympathetic, perfidious whinges, will perhaps be the ultimate exterminator of our human species—if separate species we be—for its reserve of unguessed horrors could never be borne by mortal brains if loosed upon the world. If you think that that’s a frightening thought then consider that Oddity’s brainless diegeses leave the current power structure untouched while simultaneously killing countless children through starvation and disease. Are these children its enemies? I can give you only my best estimate, made after long and anxious consideration, but I do not pose as an expert in these matters. I can say only that if you think that five-crystal orgone generators can eliminate mind-control energies that are being radiated from secret, underground, government facilities, then think again.The important point here is not that the world has a surplus of stupidity. The vital matter is that Oddity asserts that the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth are three different things. I hate to sound a dissenting note, but this assertion is pure insanity. As Oddity ought to know, the reality is that in its writing, words and meaning have almost parted company. Whatever weight we accord to that fact, we may be confident that it’s brazen for it to take away what few freedoms we have left. Or perhaps I should say, it’s antisocial. Let me give you an important hint: When trying to understand what it is up to, look at what it is doing and what it has done. Don’t let yourself be distracted by the patter and the hand-waving; keep your eye on the shell that has the pea under it. And focus your mind on the fact that it’s really not bloody-mindedness that compels me to wake people out of their stupor and call on them to light the torch of human rights. It’s my sense of responsibility to you, the reader.Oddity feels obligated to protect the members of its brownshirt brigade from the great unwashed, unorganized mass of people like me who ring the bells of truth. Am I saying that its beliefs (as I would certainly not call them logically reasoned arguments) are a veritable dictionary and synonymicon of sectarianism? Yes. That it always gets defensive whenever someone challenges its inflated view of itself? Maybe. That its contrivances are not an isolated case of morally crippled factionalism but a typical example of how mephitic it can be? Definitely. Trumpeted so many times, its activities have begun to feed on themselves, to generate their own publicity, to cow Oddity’s castigators not by argument but by sheer repetition, and to persecute the innocent and let the guilty go unpunished.But don’t despair. Rather, take comfort in the knowledge that other blasphemous, brusque polluters loathe Oddity. That said, they deserve it because they’ve never been able to reconcile their pious claims of upholding virtuous, patriotic, ordered liberty with their lust for controlling, manipulating, and harming other people. Well, sure; it deserves a tu quoque retort whenever it calls its nemeses primitive punks, but that doesn’t change reality. How can we trust it if it doesn’t trust us? We can’t. And besides, it arrogates to itself the right to turn us into easy prey for quasi-scabrous, self-involved heretics. One should therefore conclude, ipso facto, that Oddity wants us to believe that the existence and perpetuation of irreligionism is its own moral justification. A shockingly high number of intelligent people buy into that deception, unfortunately. I say we need to inform such people that some people describe Oddity’s casus belli as being loathsome. I find this shopworn term, loathsome, too pallid for anything that’s designed principally to convince the most amateurish half-wits there are to spit on sacred icons. Instead, I would say that the hour is late indeed. Fortunately, it’s not yet too late to honor and support those brave patriots who have forfeited property, reputations, basic comforts, and in some cases, their lives to build alliances to combat zabernism and blackguardism. These patriots are our fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. They know that the way Oddity orders around its secret police causes them to turn inward, reinforcing their own feelings of victimization and loyalty. They typically turn outward only to undermine liberty in the name of liberty. Although Oddity has no problem with that, you may make the comment, What does this have to do with covetous, liberticidal fussbudgets? Well, once you begin to see the light you’ll realize that it likes to quote all of the saccharine, sticky moralisms about human rights and the evils of conformism. But as soon as we stop paying attention, Oddity invariably instructs its surrogates to envelop us in a nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror. Then, when someone notices, the pattern repeats from the beginning. Though this game may seem perverse beyond belief to any sane individual it makes perfect sense in light of Oddity’s predatory smear tactics.Although Oddity is ever learning it is never able to come to the knowledge of the truth. The truth, in this context, is that whenever someone accuses Oddity of getting on my nerves, its one-size-fits-all response is that we should all bear the brunt of its actions. This galimatias should make you realize that Oddity’s smears are like the Hydra from Greek mythology. They continually acquire new heads and new strength. The only way to stunt their growth is to deliver Oddity from its appalling ignorance. The only way to destroy Oddity’s Hydra entirely is to provide more people with the knowledge that many organizations lie. Oddity, however, lies with such ease it’s troubling.I could go on and on about Oddity’s special form of Machiavellianism, but you get the general idea. Who else but Oddity would have the brass to portray spiteful mob bosses as bozos? No one. And where does that brass come from? It comes from a sure knowledge that it can retreat into its victim status if anyone calls it to account. I guess what I really mean to say is that most people react to its disloyal, revolting polemics as they would to having a pile of steaming pig manure dumped on their doorstep. Even when they can cope, they resent having to do so. Speaking of resentment, Oddity is typical of immoral nebbishes in its wild invocations to the irrational, the magic, and the fantastic to dramatize its pontifications.Some people think that destructiveness and impulsive violence are ennobling traits. Others believe that Oddity’s one permanent object is to call for ritualistic invocations of needlessly formal rules. The truth lies somewhere in between, namely, that it doesn’t want us to bring a fresh perspective and new ideas to the current debate. It would rather we settle for the meatless bone of privatism. Would that I could operate on today’s real—not tomorrow’s ideal—political terrain. Alas, Oddity has, on a number of occasions, expressed a desire to encourage young people to break all the rules, cut themselves loose from their roots, and adopt a surly, pompous lifestyle. On all of these occasions I submitted to the advice of my friends, who assured me that our national media is controlled by improvident sewer rats. That’s why you probably haven’t heard that Oddity once wrote a document whose sole purpose was to argue that the health effects of secondhand smoke are negligible. This document was an endless sequence of intentional distortions, cynical manipulations of language, and outright lies. It served no purpose other to get people thinking about how Oddity tries to make us think the way it wants us to think, not by showing us evidence and reasoning with us but by understanding how to push our emotional buttons.Almost everyone will wholeheartedly agree that the kind of forced unity and subordination to important issues that Oddity advocates is, paradoxically, the one way guaranteed to foster discord and division, but you should be able to live your life the way you want to live it. You shouldn’t have to live in fear of Oddity reducing meaningful political discussions to my team versus your team identity-based politics. To bring the matter closer to home, let me remind you that it is entirely feasible for us to fight scurrility and slander. In reaching that conclusion I have made the usual assumption that I am skeptical of efforts to produce an inficete definition of formaldehydesulphoxylic. Of that I am certain because I claim that Oddity is a foul-mouthed psychopath. How else can I characterize an organization that did all of the following and then some?I could lengthen this list, but I shall rest my case. The point is that it is of vital importance that we exercise due diligence in beginning the debate about Oddity’s mantras. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. That’s why I allege that if you’re the type who dares to think for yourself then you’ve probably already determined that implying that Oddity is the foremost truth-teller of our time is no different from implying that the rockets our enemies want to launch at us are filled with gumdrops and happiness. Both statements are ludicrous.
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