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Aremo Shitai Koremo Shitai Onna no Ko ni Mietatte

@lilietsblog / lilietsblog.tumblr.com

Wow, it's been like 10 years since I updated this. Neat. I've made a dreamwidth blog just in case tumblr dies. I think dreamwidth is neat. My username on Discord is Liliet#1061 (and no I don't intend to update it, they're asking but they haven't tried to force me yet). My username on reddit is LilietB. Read PGTE. Homestuck is great. Peace and love on the planet Earth. I'm Ukrainian. Wish us luck.
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oldadastra

A post about ashes and the Iliad

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Note: If you are interested in this topic at all, I strongly urge you to read “Moral Injury,Tragedy, and Kylo Ren” by  @ms-qualia​. The piece I have written here deals in a very small way with ideas that her beautifully-constructed essay addresses comprehensively, and which go to the heart of the whole story. Really. Go read it now.

Note: @typhoid–mary, wrote a thoughtful post about “ashgate” that was the impetus for this writing.  

I was hoping to move on from “ashgate” without comment, but my observation of the discourse around it compels me to bring a couple more ideas to the conversation.  There are many ways to look at this strange little bit of extra “text” that JJ Abrams gave us, pretty much all of them bad, but there’s one other reading that I have not seen mentioned, which suggests the possibility of a different, less grotesque interpretation, and that’s why I am writing this.

First, (and most importantly) bear in mind that the “ash” scene did not appear in the film in a way that demanded the explanation JJ offered. It does not appear in any of the other formats of the story (novelizations, visual dictionary, etc), so as far as the Star Wars universe and canon is concerned, it never happened. I rather wish I’d never heard, read or seen anything about it either, but JJ Abrams felt the need to share it with us, so here we are.

Let’s begin with a few lines from the Iliad, an epic poem written more than two thousand five hundred years ago, about the Trojan War.  It is the story of the Achilles, a warrior who, at the beginning of the story, is a model of honor and strength. Later, grief over the death of a special comrade sends Achilles into a berserker’s murderous rage. He kills the Trojan warrior Hector and brutally dishonors Hector’s corpse before the gods intervene to bring about an end to the conflict, allowing Hector’s body to be returned to Troy. It’s a very long poem about war and its costs, but the gist of what I’m getting at in this writing appears in early sections of the work that establish Achilles’ good character as a warrior, describing his respect for the enemy dead:

[Hector’s wife, Andromache, praises Achilles’ past respect for the dead in this passage]:

My father great Achilles killed when he plundered Thebe

He killed him, but, reverent at least in this, did not despoil him. 

Body, gear and weapons forged so handsomely, he burned,

and heaped up a barrow over the ashes.” (6:484ff)

This form of respect for the dead of an opposing army was culturally normative for both the ancient Greeks and Trojans. King Agamemnon agrees to a truce with the Trojans to permit them to bury their dead in another early part of the poem: 

“As to the dead, I would withhold no decency of burning; a man should spare no pains to see cadavers given as soon as may be after death to purifying flame.”

What on earth does this have to do with Star Wars? Bear with me. 

I’ve been thinking about the possibility that the new Star Wars trilogy may be structured like an ancient Greek tragedy, but I have not tried to frame this larger idea (I actually told @ms-qualia just a day or so ago that I wasn’t up to writing such a complex meta and hoped that someone more skilled would take it on). In any event, the crux of my argument tying Star Wars to ancient Greece, the structure of a tragedy, and the Iliad as a war story has a lot to do with Adam Driver, and the unique perspective he has brought to the creation of the character of Kylo Ren.

As most of us know, Driver was classically trained in theater. He also served as a Marine, and while he was still a student at Juilliard, he and his wife Joanne Tucker created the non-profit, Arts in the Armed Forces, which brings professional theater to active duty military and their families. Here’s part of their mission statement: AITAF programming accentuates the shared humanity of all Americans by using performance to unite artists and service members and encourage dialogue. 

Arts in the Armed Forces is an organization dedicated to helping people who are engaged in war to process their experiences by offering up compelling stories which can “describe the indescribable,” as Driver said about his own process of learning to deal with his military experiences through self-expression, storytelling, and theater.

One of the stories that has remained relevant to military audiences and to veterans dealing with combat trauma is the Iliad. The passages I quoted above are from Jonathan Shay’s excellent book, Achilles in Vietnam: Combat Trauma and the Undoing of Character. In it, he draws comparisons between Achilles’ experience of war and the moral injury of soldiers suffering from the unresolved grief of combat trauma. Driver himself is clearly familiar with the connection of this ancient story to contemporary ideas about war. He is the narrator of the book, The Theater of War: What ancient Greek tragedies can teach us today, written by Bryan Doerries, who is also a member of the board at Arts in the Armed Forces. 

Adam Driver has been aware of these ancient war stories for many years, and sees their connection to contemporary experiences of war. He may even see them as connected to a war taking place in a galaxy far far away.

So here’s my point, and the intuitive leap that I made when I looked at the still photo that accompanied JJ Abrams strange revelation about Kylo Ren and the “ashes of his enemies.”  Another interpretation, one which suggests it is possible that this weird bit of discarded film may have had roots in something quite ancient, and without evil intent. 

As a character, Kylo Ren is a warrior acting within the realm of what can be considered honorable in war. Viewed through this lens, the character’s behavior can be construed as morally right within his own experience. The ashes can represent respect for the bodies of the dead. An act of remembrance perhaps, and an act that could be intended as honorable.  

This is a complicated idea to try to express (look how long this damn meta got), and includes concepts that are alien to a contemporary American movie audience. The scene didn’t fit in the story, and it was dropped - it’s not hard to see why. It’s unsettling and strange, and obviously very open to interpretations that may not have been the intent. But it was there, and now we’re talking about it. My little essay should probably have spent more time talking about the creative process, and why we scrap or edit bits of story that don’t fit the larger narrative.  

My last word on this: People have felt very free to express their disgust and revulsion about the ashes, and to take it as final, grotesque proof of the evil and irredeemable madness of Kylo Ren - But maybe someone should ask Adam Driver to talk to us about Achilles before we pass judgement. I would love to hear what he has to say. 

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Anonymous asked:

I dare you to tell another story from the apartment

ALRIGHT BOYS GIRLS AND EVERYONE WHO THINKS THE GENDER BINARY IS FOR SQUARES IT’S STORY TIME.

Today, we’re going to talk about the time Paul’s desire for superior firepower turned into a mini arms race that ended with me setting Eric on fire with a homemade flamethrower.

No, Matt Boomer, you sexy motherfucker, I am not kidding you. Let’s begin with some details.

So when I was at the University of Iowa, several people, including myself, bought Nerf guns for impromptu battles in the hallways when we had free time. Mostly this was all good, clean fun, except for two of the guys down the hall, my roommate, and I.

We all thought, rightfully so, that factory built Nerf guns are bullshit. They’re weak, darts are too fucking light, the barrels cause too much friction, which makes them inaccurate and slow, and you have to re-cock them after each shot. That’s some fucking bullshit right there. So we fixed it.

We bought new, higher tensile springs. We bought PCP pipe and lubricant. We put BBs in the tips of our darts, and my roommate and even put in a second spring to automatically cock the gun, essentially turning them from bolt action pieces of shit into semi-automatic friendship-ruiners.

So when I moved back to Chicago, and into the apartment, I obviously brought my Nerf guns (my roommate gave me his when we moved out), and I obviously attacked my roommates the first opportunity I had. OBVIOUSLY this led to everyone buying Nerf guns and modifying the shit out of them.

However, some of us were terrible shots, so certain measures had to be taken to make it possible for them to keep up. Brad practiced in his room every day, Josh built an extended clip for his gun, and Kyle bought the fucking Vulcan and built a 600 dart belt for it because he decided aiming is for people who can’t fire 6 darts a second (he modded it for doubled firing speed using a small car battery and replaced mechanics).

And then there was Paul.

Paul was fucking terrible. Like almost so bad it couldn’t be for real. He once tried to ambush me coming around a corner from 2 feet away and missed by a good 6-7 inches. He literally could have slapped me and he missed. Whatever moving on.

So Paul decides to solve his aim problems in the most Paul way possible: online shopping. He bought 500 foam pellets for a marshmallow gun, two dozen foam discs, and a motherfucking t-shirt cannon.

You see, Paul, much like Kyle, decided aiming was for lames. So he would pour foam pellets into the cannon until it was half full, slip in a disc to keep them from falling out, then shotgun people in the face. I was his first victim and boy let me tell you that shit is terrifying.

So Paul became the big dog in the house during Nerf battles, and the rest of us found ourselves unable to compete. So we all escalated in our own insane ways. Eric and I, the former champions, modified our guns to fire faster, Brad added an extended magazine to his gun, Kyle built a harness so that he could shoot his fucking stupid fucking bullet-storm piece of shit while moving. Josh booby-trapped various parts of our apartment. Suddenly, we were all better than Paul again, so he decided to step his game up.

He started making paper cartridges that would explode open once fired. Suddenly, he could actually fire multiple times a minute, which meant once again, he was at the top. It didn’t help that our reluctance to shoot back out of fear of getting shot was allowing him to take his time, therefore drastically improving his aim.

So we stepped up again. I smooth out the cocking mechanism on my guns, improving my firing speed even faster. Eric adds more weight to his darts, making them heavier and faster and much more painful. Kyle buys a bigger battery, newer parts, and he perfects his belts, which increases his firing speed to 12 darts a second.

So Paul steps up to take advantage of his improved aim and buys something called a Pucker Chucker which basically is a t-shirt cannon except it shoots foam pucks. This means we can’t just shoot at him from the other side of the apartment anymore, so we all step up again. I modify the rail on top to make aiming easier, Eric modifies his grip to make it more comfortable, Kyle and brad modify their barrels to make them more accurate, and Josh jumps on board the crazy train and builds a goddamn under barrel cherry bomb launcher.

And this is where shit starts to spiral out of control.

Brad starts making smoke grenades, Kyle solves his weakness against close quarters combat by using his battery to create a cattle prod to keep people back. Eric breaks the head off an old golf club to use the shaft as a weapon, I put pins in the tips of all of my darts, and Paul realizes that the Pucker Chucker can also shoot real hockey pucks after he steals my bucket of pucks from my room.

So it escalated a couple more steps but I’m going to leave them out partially out of a desire to keep moving forward and partially out of shame anywhoozle when we pull out our final contraptions and modifications that day we shifted from light-hearted fun that was a bit too far to literally combat. Josh had a sword. I don’t know where he got it from.

That battle was terrifying. Our normal fights were like an hour, two hours tops, then we would clean up, get together in the living room with some beers, and laugh about what happened. Honestly we should have known this was going to happen because when we did this after our previous fight, the laughter was less “haha remember when I shot Josh in the butthole? Classic.” and more “haha remember when I missed your face with that puck? Next time I won’t miss.

So we somehow get into a battle again and this time things go south quickly which is bound to happen when you have a dude in a speedo swinging a sword around while rolling fireworks down the hall. It was literally chaos. There were fireworks and homemade smoke grenades and Kyle made the electrical current in his cattle prod too strong and it was too close to the muzzle of his Vulcan so every few seconds you would just see a flaming dart wiz past and I built a fucking flamethrower and I don’t know what the fuck is going on so I’m just firing it in the general direction of Josh to keep him the fuck away. At some point Brad barricades himself in his room, and so we all run back to our rooms and hide.

We do this for three days. THREE DAYS. I missed classes. We all had junk food in our rooms, and private bathrooms, so that’s what we sustained ourselves on for three fucking days. I, however, try to eat healthy, so I ran out of food almost immediately. After not eating for a day and a half, with food literally less than 50 feet from where I was hiding, I decided that I was willing to risk a trip to the kitchen.

So here’s something important about our apartment: I was the only one who knew how to cook. I had tried to teach the others, but all that had accomplished was several kitchen fires. This meant when Eric also ran out of food, he knew the only way to get a meal was to make peace with me. So he had snuck down the hall to my door, intent on asking me for help.

I did not know he was there.

So when I opened the door and saw a crouching figure in the shadows nearby, I assumed, I think justifiably, that it was the guy who had been swinging a sword at all of us the last time I saw him. So I pulled the trigger on my homemade flamethrower, only to see Eric’s horrified face illuminated by the flames for a split second before they hit his torso.

Luckily, I was using a scavenged fuel source (computer screen cleaner), so the flames were weak, but still fire is fire and fire fucking hurts. So Eric is rolling on the floor with first degree burns on his stomach and chest, and I’m freaking out because Eric is my friend and I just set him on fire, so there is now a lot of screaming coming from the hall.

Now, to lighten the mood slightly, here’s a personality test. You hear the sounds of fire, followed shortly by screaming coming from the hall outside your room. What do you do?

Do you assume the crazy sword guy has finally snapped and is going to kill you all, so you climb out the window onto the fire escape? Congratulations, you’re Brad.

Do you hear the cries of pain and grab a first aid kit before sprinting into the hall to help? Hey! You’re Kyle!

Do you hear the flames so you sprint into the kitchen to grab the fire extinguisher? You are Paul.

Do you come out into the hall to see what’s going on but also bring your sword just in case you have to stab someone? You are Josh and also mentally unstable please put your sword away.

So Kyle comes out and he and I start administering first aid and luckily through a combination of the weakness of my fuel source, how quickly I stopped the flames, and the quickness of our treatments, Eric only gets some first degree burns on his torso. Paul puts out the last of the flames, Josh decides he doesn’t want to stab anyone today, and Brad decides that the lack of screaming is a good thing and he comes inside. I spend the next hour apologizing profusely while cooking everyone dinner, and we decide that hey we should probably have some rules for our Nerf fights to prevent this from ever happening again.

So we all eat, we establish rules about modifications and ammunition, and at the end of it all, we grab some beers, head into the living room, and tell Josh he needs to get rid of the sword seriously dude where did you get that from?

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I care. Other lgbt people care. People should care at least to the point where they are aware that I am not straight. Its not like I want them to worship me or anything I just want to be treated as an average human being who happens to be bisexual. And I want to be able to talk about being bisexual without being accused of shoving my sexuality down people’s throats while almost every single couple in every tv show, film and popular book is heterosexual (who’s shoving their sexuality down people’s throats now hmm).

90% of the world’s population is straight. Your parents are straight. Or are they also shoving their sexuality down your throat?

Straight people don’t talk about how great it is to be straight. They don’t have straight clubs in school. They don’t have Straight Pride parades. They don’t have straight awareness months. 

You are the only ones being loud and obnoxious and naked on the streets in front of kids.

Everyone’s aware of lesbos gays and dick chicks and all that shit. There’s no awareness to do and everyone for equal rights is already for equal rights and everyone sympathetic to what it’s like is already. We all know, we get it. It’s not a big deal to most people. Not having certain first world privileges isn’t oppression, most of us are cool with you we just get it already. We’re good.

LMAO cishet people using transphobic phrase and pretending cishet don’t shove their identities down other people’s throats are SO FUCKING OBLIVIOUS it’s hilaaaaaarious

Like it’s actually kind of sad how warped their perception of reality is

this is why i fucking hate most cishets.

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lilietsblog

I don't hate most cishets, but I do hate this sort of ignorance. Hey guys, when I come into the fandom and my favorite character who is /obviously/ (to me) asexual is shipped with all guys around her and called "waifu" (uuuugh this word) and insisted to be ~very sweet and romantic beneath~ and called tsundere guess what you are doing with your sexuality and my throat

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Reblog if you don't have a girlfriend or boyfriend.

That’s a lot of notes. Let’s all date each other. Everyone get into groups of two.

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momoandmimi

Let’s do the math then.

with 841,518 reblogs that would be 420,279 couples.

cAN I GET MINE IN PINK PLS

everytime I see this post it has an even amount of notes, I guess I’m just doomed to be alone forever

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lilietsblog

how many of these do you think are aro aces

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reblogged
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lilietsblog

a discussion of Tavros&Vriska

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sushinfood

...

The apologist who didn’t realize they were an apologist. Also, TAVROS IS A VILLAIN OKAY AND HE FORCED VRISKA TO BOTH CRIPPLE HIM AND THEN MOCK HIS BEING CRIPPLED. SHE EVEN MADE HIM A FLYING WHEELCHAIR OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF HER HEAAAART!

Gag.

Ok, I didn't want to continue this discussion anymore, but this specimen is too perfect to not reblog.

I present to you, ladies and gentlemen: A STRAWMAN~! It's like a snowman, but made of straw to misrepresent your opponent's argument (if for some reason you perceive the person you are talking to as an opponent). ~Do you wanna build a strawma-a-an~?

(if you didn't mean to do that and want to know what it is that made me thing that, I'm still here and ready to explain)

(but I doubt it: it has to be some glorious bad luck and inattentivenes to build such an impressive strawman by accident)

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