I posted 719 times in 2021
640 posts reblogged (89%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 8.1 posts.
I added 687 tags in 2021
- #aren't you queued? - 371 posts
- #on writing - 80 posts
- #lucifer on netflix - 49 posts
- #lucifer morningstar - 35 posts
- #mass effect - 34 posts
- #actual lol - 29 posts
- #lol - 29 posts
- #chloe decker - 22 posts
- #asks and answers - 19 posts
- #omg - 19 posts
Longest Tag: 110 characters
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
Ahh yes, Commander Shepard. Survivor. Hero. N7.
Gets winded trying to run the length of a pedestrian bridge on the Citadel.
#4
The Conservative candidate in my riding just came to my door to introduce himself, and I answered because I’m expecting a package and assumed that’s what the knock would be about.
He seemed nice and polite, but he only got as far as introducing himself and saying, “And I need your help,” before I interjected with, “I’m so sorry, but I can guarantee I won’t be voting Conservative.”
“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Why is that?”
“Well,” I replied very earnestly, “it’s just that I don’t hold a single Conservative belief.”
“...Okay,” he said. The woman with him (a translator) was pretty much laughing behind her mask.
“Okay,” I agreed, and went inside again.
In retrospect, this is all funnier to me because I’m basically dressed like a 50s housewife today--cat-eye glasses, crinoline, full skirt and all.
#3
So I get that Lucifer has emotional and self worth issues to the end of the universe and back, but why did he think he needed to become God to be worthy of Chloe and her love? Even for him it seems over the top.
He thought it precisely because it was over the top. Even if, all other things being equal, he had succeeded in becoming God to prove himself worthy of Chloe (which would've been impossible), it wouldn't have been enough.
Because it's not about Chloe, it's not about God, it's not about any of that. It's about Lucifer and his fear that he's unworthy.
One of the most important--if not THE most important--through-lines of the entire series is the idea of therapy. Often, a goal of therapy is to name fears and address them. Again and again, Lucifer returns to this fear of unworthiness. And this fear goes back ... well, forever.
So, Lucifer's been trapped in an ever-escalating cycle where his fears of failure and unworthiness fester. Psychologically, this leads to all sorts of traits we're familiar with--complete hedonism, denial, depression, perfectionism, anger, self-harm, blaming others, avoiding attachments that might hurt him more. Even when he succeeds at something important, the buoyant effect it has on him is temporary because he's never addressing the deeper issues. He's putting band-aids on a mortal wound. Every time, the success needs to be bigger to get the same effect. It's like chasing a high. And then the low that follows? Gets lower and lower and lower.
Michael didn't make Lucifer afraid of being unworthy. He just reflected back the fear that already existed (and then he used it against his brother 'cause he's a dick that way). Lucifer is still fixating on the external, though. Blaming God, then blaming Michael, then setting himself an all-but-impossible goal of proving himself worthy to someone who has (as she says so pointedly) already made her feelings perfectly clear.
The issue is that when Lucifer looks inside himself, he still sees this failure. So he projects all over the place. He convinces himself that Chloe may say she cares about him now, but it's only because she hasn't seen what a cowering, unworthy, useless failure he actually is. And, in Lucifer's mind, it's inevitable that she'll find out. Then she'll leave him. He'll disappoint her. Just like he disappoints everyone, eventually. He'll be metaphorically cast into an even worse, even darker, even lonelier hell. I don't think Lucifer subscribes to the idea that "it's better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all."
The cycle means that Lucifer's fears are also self-fulfilling prophecies--because that happens a lot with fear.
Lucifer couldn't "become God" until he found a reason to do so that wasn't tied to his own sickly, stunted self-worth. That wasn't tied to proving himself to something external. Instead, it's tied to something that's even more a part of Lucifer than his fear of unworthiness: his belief in fairness, in justice. Desire not in the material sense, but in the spiritual.
From a place of love, he looks at the system as it exists and says, "This is not fair. This is not just. It needs to change. I need to change it."
Not for power, not for personal gain, not to "win." (I maintain there's still some hubris in thinking he's the one who has to do it, but I suspect that we'll get some fallout from that in S6--I'm going to write about that more in a later speculation post, though.)
And we do know that above all things, Lucifer is an expert in fair. And once he finally stops living his own hell loop of endless self-torture (unworthiness) over and over, he can walk through the door and be free. Actually heal. Like Mr. Said Out Bitch. Like punishing Michael but not killing him.
Linda says, "Maybe you should be a therapist."
And the truth is, I suspect that's what--as God--he'll become. Not distant and unknowable and mysterious ways. The guide who can't fix things for you, but who can concoct the perfect plan to show you how to get out by yourself. Maybe he'll answer questions with questions, but the goal will be freedom--not endless self-recrimination.
And a final quick thing I want to mention (even though the heaven/hell thing is something I want to write an entirely different essay about) ... it's not just hell that needs fixing. In heaven, Chloe didn't remember the things that made her sad. To be content in heaven, she had to forget Trixie, Lucifer, Dan. Is it really eternal bliss if, to be there, you have to forget the people you loved?
I don't think Lucifer will think so.
#2
Legendary
Honestly, as much as I am looking forward to replaying these games I love so, so deeply—and oh, how I am! and oh, how pretty they look!—I am also just so goddamned grateful the Mass Effect: Legendary Edition has given me something concrete to look forward to that doesn’t rely on borders reopening, travel being allowed, vaccines being available, restrictions being lifted, gatherings being held.
Sometimes the light in the dark is a video game with a release date, y’know?
#1
Oh no, I've been thinking.
Okay, I can't stop thinking about something ending-related. I don't know this for certain, but based on previous statements and such, it feels like the writers were always aiming for a bittersweet ending. Like, no matter what else happened or how the story evolved, come hell (lol) or high water, that ending couldn't just be happy. For reasons. I guess.
Now, I don't mind a bittersweet ending ... if it makes sense for the ending to be bittersweet.
I critique stories for a living. I'm literally taking a break from the developmental edit of someone's novel to write this post. And the persistent thought that bugs me about the Rory setup is that it is so artificial. Time travel is a pain in the narrative ass. Time travel suddenly introduced in the sixth season of a show that has never touched on time travel? As an editor, I probably would've pointed out that time travel for the purpose of angst, especially time travel without rules that make sense ("I don't know anything about time travel! Except I do know you have to take the most painful path!"), seemingly introduced as a final ploy to make that bittersweet ending work ... well, to me, it breaks the narrative contract they established with the audience. Your audience is going to be confused. An editor's job is to alert the writer to any potential confusion so it can be fixed before the story goes to print, etc. Confused audiences get mad, annoyed, frustrated. They feel hurt. They put down the book and don't pick it up again. Usually, writers don't want that. But they're so close to their work that they need a completely outside perspective to say, "Hey, I'm not sure you realize this, but..."
I mean, I keep referring to Rory as "deus ex daughter" because in literary terms, she is a blatant deus ex machina. Rory is the god in the machine of the Bittersweet Ending.
Now, I loved a lot of S6. I did. My overall feeling about the season is not negative. But ... I can't stop thinking about why the things I didn't like REALLY didn't work for me.
I loved the emotional growth we saw in Lucifer and Chloe facilitated by the question of parenting and parental love. I did. And I would have loved to see a lot of those notes hit not with an angel kid out of nowhere ... but with the daughter already in the picture. Especially because it would have circumvented the icky idea that a child has to be one's flesh and blood to induce such feelings. I also understand that coronavirus and Scarlett's age and schedule made this difficult. But I just can't swallow that the only way to wrap up the story of this show--a show about found family, non-traditional family, friendship, connection, FREE WILL, love in all its many shapes and forms and colors ... was to introduce a brand new character via a device (time travel) that fails to make sense almost every time it's used, no matter the medium. (And then had only that brand new character be there when her mother died. Don't even get me started. Ugh.)
If time travel was always going to be on the table, couldn't we have found a more plausible way to use it with the characters we already knew, loved, and had spent four or five seasons with? A time-travelling older Trixie, say? If you're going to use the impossible device, just ... twist it another way to make it work.
Okay. Okay. So, leaving Trixie aside for now just like the show did, let's say we leave everything about the season the same, even Rory. Do you know what ending makes more narrative sense?
Future Rory sacrificing herself by NOT forcing Lucifer to make a cruel and impossible "choice" so the baby that might have been her grows up with a family that loves her. Chloe's already pregnant. That's not going to be undone. And this nonsense of a "closed time loop" falls apart if you side-eye it for even a few seconds. The Rory who came from the future never exists except in the memories of those she met when she came back from that future. Chloe and Lucifer lose that daughter even as they gain the new one whose existence is not a tool of unrelenting fate because wow this show has always been about free will what the heck happened there yikes. And a choice made under the duress Chloe and Lucifer were under, forced out of them, and forcing them to "choose" a life apart for *handwave* Reasons has nothing to do with free will. A "choice" made at gunpoint is not a real choice. Future Rory basically bullied them into ensuring she got to exist--something, quite frankly, neither her parents would have done.
Instead, how much more appropriately bittersweet is it if Chloe and Lucifer lose that child while gaining one who, because of that angry time-travelling version, will never suffer as she did.
Also as an editor: the groundwork for my version is already laid, by the way. It should have been Rory learning about the importance of free will over fate. The importance of personal sacrifice. The importance of not thinking your young self knows best ... because experience and therapy will help rid you of that self-centered world view. That's the contract the writers made with us with this show. And Chloe and Lucifer have already BEEN THERE AND DONE THAT. (See: the end of S4.)
Furthermore, this season finally HAD Chloe and Lucifer DEAL WITH the only thing that actually would have contributed to a narrative, characterization-based reason for Lucifer to disappear: His history of running and his putting Chloe on a pedestal. Once they really talked that out, his "disappearance" became a Rory-induced trauma of inexplicable fate that flies in the face of all the progress Lucifer made over six seasons. (I would rather have had more of that and less of mysterious disappearing oh no plot.)
And I'm sorry, the "Once you get to Hell you're going to work 24/7" excuse given for why Lucifer won't be around and why he can't make time for Chloe until she's DEAD(????!???) is ... it's lame. If AMENADIEL AS GOD can make time for his kid's birthday party, I refuse to believe Lucifer can't work out some Hell/Earth-work/life balance. Never mind that in the show about partnerships, the Bittersweet Ending just ... destroyed it. Chloe was planning on being God's consultant; she could have helped Lucifer solve Hell's Trauma Mysteries (it's what she did with Jimmy, setting up that yeah, Lucifer could do it alone like he accidentally did with Lee, but doing it with HIS TRUTHSEEKING PARTNER would be more effective). Just as Lucifer could have continued helping HER solve some of the problems within "that corrupt little organization" of hers.
tl;dr: I think the writers fixated so completely on their version of Bittersweet that they missed all the foreshadowing, groundwork, and clues that were right there, already built into the story, poised for a different kind of ending than the one they once imagined. That's why so many parts of it feel almost-but-not-quite right and why these aspects are so off-putting. That's why it's just not ... organic. It's something squeezed into a box it grew out of ages ago.
Ironically, certain elements of this season involved the writers insisting on the FATE they decided long ago instead of letting the story and the characters have the FREE WILL to choose a different, more fitting, more organic ending--one that had long-since evolved past that original flavor of Bittersweet.