jon bernthal is the american tom hardy* (or vise versa)
- love dogs – pit bull advocates
- married with kids
- practically same age – 40 vs 39
- virgos – sept 20 vs sept 15
- practically same height – 5'10" vs 5'9" (short but ~seem tall)
- obvious talent
- prime physical condition
- acclaimed work on movies & tv
- cult status projects
- shia labeouf connection
- good looking but not ~hollywood good looking
- unjustly overshadowed by leonardo dicaprio in projects
/random late night observation
* my knowledge of tom hardy is minimal these are just the main things that stick out to a layperson
Since episode 1, we’ve all been saying how the most frightening thing about the Thistle Man is how, for every woman listening, he isn’t unrealistic. That he was frightening before his monstrous properties were revealed, because he was a man deliberately invading the space of a woman. His following her from place to place, his threats against her were familiar to us. In episode 3, this is brought into much sharper relief, and treated through a lens of systemic violence.
The Thistle Man being able to attack the narrator, secure in the knowledge that he would face no consequences for his actions is not confined to the world of fiction. The police officer not only excusing an assault by the Thistle Man on the black lesbian narrator, but collaborating with him, and threatening her, is not confined to the world of fiction. This is where the supernatural of Alice Isn’t Dead rams headfirst into the brutally plausible, viscerally real of this world. This world does not value or protect black women. This world is not safe for black women. Police are not allies, and violent and abusive men can act with impunity, knowing that they will not only be spared consequence, but will be defended and condoned. This is the truth of the world, and that truth does not surprise the narrator.
I think it is very powerful and very important that systemic violence is being depicted in Alice Isn’t Dead, and that it is so beautifully and frighteningly integrated into the inexplicable, otherworldly occurrences of the podcast. It is also important and powerful that the podcast began with a content warning to make it more accessible and safer for survivors. From the very first minute of episode 1, I knew this podcast was going to be amazing, but this episode has solidified that sense for me.
So much of horror is, when deconstructed, simply a fear and hatred of the Other. Of blackness, of women (especially trans women), of queerness, of disability. Horror has been turning marginalized people into monsters since it’s inception. What makes Alice Isn’t Dead so powerful is that it unites supernatural horror with the systems of dominance and oppression that shape the lives of marginalized people in violent, destructive ways. It turns our oppressors into the monsters; it lets us be the heroes.
The narrator knows she can’t look to the police officer for help, and that she is fighting against forces more powerful and more terrible than she could ever hope to defeat. But she fights anyway. She continues anyway. And what motivates her? A refusal to give up on her wife; a defiance against the forces that have torn them apart, and that threaten her as she attempts to pursue the truth. She knows how powerless she is by comparison to whatever she has stumbled across, but she keeps going because FUCK the Thistle Man. Fuck the police officer tailing her in his car. Fuck the threats and the warnings. This black lesbian, in all her anxiety, in all her fear, is not giving up or backing down.
I don’t know about you, but that shit makes me feel pretty damn powerful.
Pleurant. Pining!Eames weeps over Arthur’s ~grave~
The Unexamined Life. This is Chapter 6 of one part of Rurounihime’s much longer, much pining-filled Day Series, and if you think you want to read the rest then you should probably start with her timeline rubric. But if you just want to read a one-shot where Arthur takes Eames to the middle of the ocean so they can finally put an end to SO MUCH PINING MY GOD then this is it :D
Sorry if you answered this question already and I missed it but I was wondering what is your favorite Arthur x Eames fic?
*lays head on desk* this is the hardest question but i think for me it comes down to community and love and shared experiences, so because it’s the fic that still makes me cry my eyes out and feel a mix of profound joy and happiness and sadness and love every time i reread it, as well as for every nostalgic reason in the world, I’d have to say It’s Automatic by weatherfront.
And after that it would probably be every single fic by cmonkatie because her fics just make my heart clench and make me fall in love all over again, and her arthur and eames are so tentative and hesitant and quiet and real and in love.
And after that it would probably be Lives I’ve Pursued and/or Plate Tectonics, both by indysaur. And also it’s every time seasquared gave us beautiful and painful angst and unrequited love and decades’ worth of pining and the knowledge that Paris keeps on raining through it all. And also it’s syllic, for evening out all of the angst with Je Ne Veux Pas Travailler. And also it’s this whole thread from the earliest days of the fandom, when everything just felt so heady and smart and also like this incredible party, but also like this brilliant unfolding of a space where we could all do absolutely fucking everything together, if we could only just imagine it.
And since all of these fics were written no later than 2012, I’ll say that I think my favorite fic of the fandom dating from 2013 on is probably either redcat512’s Burn Brighter or ester_inc’s Living Proof, which was just completed this week, because this fandom is not dead :D
Following an upload mishap, the new episode of trucks should be up in a few. In this episode I talk derisively about dudes and their feelings - I don’t use the word, but “manpain” is the shorthand du jour for the stuff I make fun of. I want to expand a little on this, lest I sound like a tool of the patriarchy, reinforcing the societal imperative for male emotional constipation and making fun of the sensitive. Which - yes, I am, but only specific ones, and for reasons.
Context: we’re talking about Bioshock Infinite, Inception, and The Last Of Us, all of which are stories in which men have feelings about dead women. Inception and Bioshock wrap these feelings in a colorful candy shell of byzantine plot dynamics to make them easier to swallow, but the dudes’ guilt and suffering anchor the stories.
I think there is this problem where nerdy dudes lack an acceptable societal outlet for feelings and emotions. Those who are not able to access the Glory of Manly Sports or barroom camaraderie find their social interactions take place mostly in Nerd Zones, and one of the hallmarks of a Nerd Zone is the cloud of derisive sarcasm that hangs around and chokes everything. Feelings need to be really serious to pierce that kind of cloud - general anomie and loneliness ain’t going to cut it - so you need a symbol for frowny times that everyone can acknowledge. Let’s go see what’s in the fridge!
[It is a dead girl. A dead girl is in the fridge.]
Bioshock is not a game about women. Booker gets some dolls to play with - Elizabeth is there to essentially go through a libertarian’s mansplaining of the Buddha’s path to enlightenment, and It has what is essentially the tragic narcissist’s version of a harem ending. But the story sure as hell isn’t about Elizabeth. I was brought up Jungian so I read the thing as the story of a man attempting to connect to his own wounded femininity, and failing hardcore, choosing oblivion over integration. This is an important story to tell. I ain’t denying that. But the thing is we are past the point in the culture where it’s OK to reduce an entire class of people to a symbolic language in order to get your point about dudely feelings across. Enough with that. Enough with dead girls and clone girls and Justice and Mercy and Peace in dresses. We should be done with that.
Dude feelings get sat on for so long that when they emerge it has to be REALLY IMPORTANT: important enough to compare them to the experience of slavery, important enough to compare them to murder, important enough to wipe away any questions about who’s getting the shaft behind the scenes. And I think I have to point my finger ultimately at that cloud of derisive sarcasm - without the automatic dismissal of weakness and vulnerability within nerdy cultural spaces there wouldn’t be this arms race of symbolism to find the place where it’s OK to feel bad. Dudes do have to figure out the pony within - we’ve all got a Fluttershy in there somewhere - but we have to figure out a way to do that without absorbing (and, inevitably, rewriting and pornifying and raping and killing) all the other ponies to do it. Because the fact that we have feelings does not mean that all feelings are ours. Our feelings are about us, not about the world. The stories we should tell about them should be personal, not fucking apocalyptic.
So - man up and be a wuss. And don’t be a dick to other wusses. Is I guess what I’m getting at.