Hello! Sorry I’ve been inactive for the past week – I’ve been coming home tired and feeling sluggish and I don’t know why ;;v;; I think I should try getting some proper sleep this weekend (usually I only get 3-5 hours a night) ;;v;;
I’ve received recent asks about the Zen Feels Train – please know that it will be updated after the holidays ^o^ Thank you for your interest ♥ I’m also working on some holiday artworks that I hope to finish before the month ends :D ((It’s super fun I hope you guys will like it ^__^))
I’m sorry for letting the messages pile up – I’m trying my best replying privately to some and I’m compiling the others for posting • v •;;; Feel free to resend your ask && tell me if you want a reply right away! I really appreciate all your messages and I’d like to thank you all for taking the time to brighten up my day ♥ ♥ ♥ Please give me a bit more time! Thank you!
God I wish some politician would come out and say it’s time to cut the umbilical cord to the founding fathers. We’re being crushed under our guns and our all-consuming free market ideology because some agrarian noblemen couldn’t imagine anything better. How much more do we owe these people, we keep trailing the world by more and more, because Germany doesn’t stop to think if Otto Von Bismark would approve of new legislation and Italian courts don’t dive into the writings of Julius Caesar to see if a new program is acceptable. America’s role in the world is something the founding fathers couldn’t have imagined. At some point you have to move on for the sake being a modern country.
But really our current concept of strict constitutional originalism is, like most of modern conservatism, a reaction to the civil rights era. There has always been debate over how literally the constitution should be taken, but only when the Warren court started declaring that the constitution held segregation to be illegal (among other things like Miranda rights) did conservatives come to the belief that not even the smallest implication could be extracted from the constitution. If you weren’t going by the direct words stated, you were a “judicial activist” and “legislating from the bench.” So we’re stuck forever with mediocrities like Antonin Scalia and Neil Gorsuch, who make sure we never do anything that would exceed the imagination of an 18th century slaveowner. They interpret the holy text as best they can, and by sheer luck, every single case leads them to the conclusion that best suits the needs of the modern corporate and religious interests of the Republican Party. Aren’t we lucky to have them and their wisdom that ensures we’ll always live in a world made by agrarian noblemen and never anything else.
fallen angels who rip the feathers from their backs and devour them hungrily, scrambling for every last shred of their former lives and trying to cram it back into their bodies, panicking when grace starts to bleed from cuts in their skin, slurping it from their veins, desperately trying to force themselves back into what they once were. all the band-aids in the world won’t hold divinity into your bones.
When your best friend and almost-older
brother told you a lifetime ago that he was going to make something of himself,
you believed him. You didn’t realize, then, just what he’d gotten himself into—and
with whom he’d gotten involved. Gangs take the place of rival clans, and your
(oh-so-dumb but oh-so-ferocious) childhood friend got mixed in with the Owari
‘family’ a long, long time ago. For years, you had no idea, even if someone
else in your family did – to their peril. When you do find out, you’re bound
and determined to get him out, but there’s no leaving that life completely –
only competing with a 'family’ of your own. Luckily, he’s got the wild,
enthusiastic Keiji and the grim but strategic Toshihisa
on his side, as well as an uneasy truce with
Hideyoshi, who is poised to take the reins from Owari’s leader. For you, loving
Inuchiyo means setting aside dreams of being a chef to instead enter an
underworld darker and more violent than you’d ever imagined, and trusting both
your hearts are strong enough to survive it.
After accepting a position catering for
the prestigious Oda, Inc., a company your childhood best friend has been
working for, your life takes an abrupt swerve into 'oh shit’ territory when a
confrontation with an Oda, Inc. middle manager over his harassment of female
employees takes a dangerous turn. Luckily for you, Inuchiyo has your back, and the
head of Risk Management, one Hideyoshi, has his, and puts an end to things by
convincing the CEO of the truth. You find yourself by his side more and more as
Oda, Inc. begins to aggressively pursue multiple simultaneous, risky acquisitions
and he is put in charge of their success. Having risen through the ranks from
the entry-level rung, with a local education instead of the prestigious college
credentials of his peers, he faces near-universal opposition to his proposals,
but you’ve never seen someone as charmingly capable of maneuvering a situation
to his favor, and he doesn’t just have two (grumpy but) incredibly brilliant
strategists on his team to see him through—he has you.
Another case where I can make up whatever
I want and pretend it’s a parallel forgive me. Accepting a position as company caterer
for a company as prestigious as Shingen Corp. was a dream come true. Or it was, until a simple taste test of the
soup you’d left unattended for mere moments ended in some very unexpected side effects. A sensual, striking, stunning chemist
from Shingen’s Research & Development department shows up just in time, and
as the series of mysterious incidents of Shingen Corp employees continues, you
find yourself enlisting her help time and again to identify just what is being
ingested to make everyone act so strange, before someone ends up swallowing
something fatal. She didn’t exactly mean to stick around, but something about
your earnest innocence is intoxicating, and your time with the flirty,
ferociously confident woman is dazzling. But just as you’re starting to wonder if
there’s a different sort of chemistry
between the two of you, a kind that isn’t as one-sided as you think, you learn
there is no employee by her name at
The Director of Public Relations of Oda,
Inc. certainly has his hands full on a daily basis. The largest economic force
in the country is headed up by a volatile CEO who doesn’t always play nice – leaving
Mitsuhide to smooth ruffled feathers and appease the press. Your close
friendship with one of the Executive Vice Presidents – one Oda Oichi – attracts
a little too much attention from the boss, and you find your pastry-making self
suddenly under very close scrutiny. Passed off to Akechi to keep an eye on, he
finds his hands even fuller, and you find your curiosity getting the best of
you. As the decisions of Oda, Inc.’s CEO veer into more and more questionable
territory, Mitsuhide finds himself in a moral crisis, and you’re right at the
More of Lee’s Rambles (or see /tagged/masterlist or just /masterlist)
~ THE BIOLOGICAL DAUGHTER AND THE ARTIFICIAL SON ~
Why is important to discover, in Prometheus, that Meredith Vickers is Weyland’s daughter?
It’s an important detail to understand Weyland’s character better.
Weyland dislikes his biological daughter because the existence of Meredith remembers him that he’s mortal and that another generation will substitute him in the future. Weyland can’t “accept” the natural procreation system, because that system exists because humans aren’t immortal, and to survive, a specie must reproduce (look how he retires his hand when Meredith tries to take it, he really despises his daughter for being here reminding him that he have to die, sooner or later).
Weyland has built a synthetic son, an artificial son “from nothing”. He created him. Weyland says that David is “the closest thing to a son” he has. David is a new kind on man, it’s a “living” piece of art, is the proof that Weyland is a god. Weyland wants to “break the chain” and “frees” himself from his “mortal nature”. Weyland wants to show the world his genius, wants to stand out as different and superior, because of David’s existence. So, Weyland dislikes Meredith because she’s the proof he’s human, but he likes David because he’s the proof he deserves to become a true god.
Weyland (speaking to the Engineer in Prometheus): “Do you see this man? (…) I made him, and I made him in my own image, so he would be perfect, so he would never fail. I deserve this, cause you and I, we are superior, we are creators, we are gods. And gods never die”
Weyland wielded “an incredible power, the power to create, the power to destroy and create again”, Weyland can terraforming planets, can create new worlds, can create “better worlds”. To really create “better worlds” he also has to create “better men”, at a certain point, it must be the maximum expression of his godly status, and in fact, Weyland presents David to the awakened Engineer exactly as the perfect man created by the god he (Weyland) is. In the novel: Frankeinstein, Victor Frankeinstein decides to give life to a man because it’s the best thing he can do with the power he had obtained. At first he considers if starting with a more simple animal, but then he decides to start directly creating a man, and he decides to make it different from usual: he makes him bigger, he tries to make him better than normal men. Victor can’t resist the temptation to use his powers to make the best “work of art” he can make: a man, a better man.
In Alien Covenant we discover that our “David8” is the first David ever created, a “prototype”. He was the robot that choses the name “David”. He’s the first, the other models came after him, modeled to imitate him (David was probably the first of his kind to choses the blond hair for the “David category”).
Ridley Scott said that David is 79 years old in Alien Covenant.
Ridley Scott said that as soon as David was switched on, Weyland realized that he was really “human”, that he was aware of his superiority (“you will die, and I will not”) and that he could have become a problem in the future. Weyland thought that David was a dangerous robot. But Weyland decided to not destroy him, and kept him always by his side. Weyland knew that David had to obey him because of his program, so, he decided to not worry about it, he probably thought: as long as I can control him that’s ok. Weyland was too proud of his creation to destroy him, Weyland was too proud of himself: he really had managed to built a “man”.
That’s why, probably, David hasn’t the restrictions that later will be put on Walter, that’s why Weyland made him “emotional”: Weyland created David with the ambition to crate something as similar as possible to a man (to the perfect man of his dreams, a man very similar to him, unfortunately) he says to the crew of the Prometheus that the ONLY ONE thing David lacks is a soul. David was never meant to be something to really help men, at least not to help “ordinary” men, David was created to serve WEYLAND, he was created to HELP WEYLAND becoming a god (and he would have helped him simply being “a perfect man” and with his ability to learn all that ancient languages).
That’s why David is a so “special” robot. That’s why he has turned a “monster”.
He’s the monster of the “modern Prometheus” of the Alien franchise.
DC also relies too heavily on novelty over sustainability in its marketing, and both companies have a problem with retaining consistent creative teams, even on new titles. Introducing a new “take” on an iconic hero, heroine, or title with multiple artists over the initial issues is poor management and a short-sighted approach to developing a committed reader following. The Aquaman Rebirth is a perfect example of this at DC– sacrificing visual continuity and coherence for a marketing strategy. Maybe it works in the short run, but the collapse of sales at both companies argues against it. I find it really hard to become invested in any title at either company these days because I know the editorial commitment to the new direction is completely non-existent. Given that most writer-artist teams need months to find their footing as collaborators this short-sighted editorial behavior is self-destructive and misguided. Remember when Lee and Kirby created 100+ issues of Fantastic Four together? Remember Gardner Fox and Mike Sekowsky’s ten year run on JLA? These days readers feel privileged when they get the same writer-artist team in a two-part story. And publishers are surprised their sales are in the low five figures?
By the way, nothing I say here should be construed as an attack on the talented people in charge of both companies– I believe it’s a corporate culture problem, driven, as many corporate decisions since the rise of MBA-Worship in the 1980s have been, by short term thinking in business strategies. Corporate culture is toxic to creativity, especially so in pop culture, which is idiosyncratic and informed by emotional responses to subconscious cultural movement. No large modern corporation is nimble enough to recognize and support idiosyncrasy– that’s why pop cultural success depends on individual entrepreneurs who operate from an internal gut instinct (which they have a unique ability to justify with what sounds like rational explanations). At Marvel in the 1960s, Stan Lee’s gut instinct made the company a creative powerhouse– yes, Kirby and Ditko were integral to that creativity, but remember, both men worked for other companies at the same time (DC in Kirby’s case, and for Ditko, Charlton) where their talents were horribly misused. At DC, that golden gut instinct was the possession of two men– Julie Schwartz and Mort Weisinger. Julie built the modern DC universe, Mort organized the rich mythology of Superman. In today’s corporate comic book culture none of these men (or any woman who might replace them) would have the relative independence and freedom to create a lasting contribution to the companies they worked for.
And I should be writing other, non-DA things but this trash can is my home now.
A knock sounded to her left and Evelia looked up, meeting eye to eye with her favorite elusive and enigmatic man.
Deep grey eyes studied her from underneath hooded lids and furrowed brows, the olive complexion of his skin appearing darker in the cheap incandescent lighting of the archives.
His dark, braided hair was swept back in a half bun to reveal an undercut fading down to his ears and nape of his neck—the longer pieces flowing over the thick of his scarf. His muscled chest peeked from beneath the almost-too-deep neckline of his mostly buttoned white shirt (which stayed strangely unwrinkled under his familiar black leather jacket). Black slacks hung on his lean and toned legs in all the right places, drifting down into the pointed, hard-worn boots that somehow complimented his look more than if they had been fresh and well-kept.
“What are you doing down here?” Evelia asked, her smile traveling along the tone of her voice.
Solas half lingered in the doorway, chancing a glance at the cameras overhead before stepping in enough to lean against the frame. He extended his hand to offer her a coffee cup from the company café, steam twirling from the opening in the lid. With a gasp and hearty grin, Evelia wrapped her fingers around it—the heat of the drink already warming her hands through the cardboard sleeve. She lifted it to her lips and inhaled the fragrance of her favorite coffee concoction before taking a long drink that fell hard into her empty stomach.
“I assumed you would have yet to take your lunch,” he said matter-of-factly, his never-quite-there smile of amusement glinting in his eye.
“Nope. Too much to do before the all-hands.”
Solas quirked a brow and ran a slender finger over the top sheet of the nearest stack of paper.
“Perhaps you should skip the meeting today,” he said, examining the dust between his fingers. “The Singing Maiden just opened down the street. The sushi is rumored to be the best in town.” Solas glanced up at her.
“We’re all supposed to attend. But I suppose you’re exempt, being a consultant and all.”
“I am.” Solas crossed his arms, the leather of his jacket creaking ever so slightly. “You could still have lunch with me instead. Who would miss Haven’s only archivist?”
Evelia laughed, turning her attention back to her computer. “Believe it or not, Solas, I am good at what I do. And what I do is important.”
“I didn’t say otherwise, Evelia. I merely asked—” But his words were cut off—for silently sliding into the room to walk past him was another Haven employee.
She paused with the slightest hesitation, tossing him an assessing scowl. And Solas absorbed her.
Her thick, dark hair cascaded down her back, still doing very little to conceal her long yet dainty ears. The deep, gray rings of her eyes lightened toward the pupil, spiraling into a curious hazel that nearly unseated his cool and collected composure. And she was gone to the other side of the archive before he even had a chance to study her vallaslin, assess her powers, or even ask for her name.
Evelia smirked, watching as he ogled her new co-worker.
“I thought you were alone,” he whispered, still gazing down the hall where she had disappeared.
“I was. Pentaghast assigned her down here about—”
But Solas clasped Evelia’s wrist, encouraging her to make eye contact as a serious tone pulsed throughout the room.
“Evelia,” he said, his voice reaching to desperation. “Whatever you do today, do not go to the company meeting.”
Some of the best places to look for potential SolarPunk stuff is within modern/futuristic corporate designs, oddly enough. Not in their entirety, of course – this is a design that wastes a ton of space and potential, and is really made for the wealthy elite and not for any better reason, but there are elements of the design and structure which can really point out how designs – now – can be created using presently available construction techniques.