I was fired by Google this past Monday for a document that I wrote and circulated internally raising questions about cultural taboos and how they cloud our thinking about gender diversity at the company and in the wider tech sector. I suggested that at least some of the male-female disparity in tech could be attributed to biological differences (and, yes, I said that bias against women was a factor too). Google Chief Executive Sundar Pichai declared that portions of my statement violated the company’s code of conduct and “cross the line by advancing harmful gender stereotypes in our workplace.”
My 10-page document set out what I considered a reasoned, well-researched, good-faith argument, but as I wrote, the viewpoint I was putting forward is generally suppressed at Google because of the company’s “ideological echo chamber.”My firing neatly confirms that point.
How did Google, the company that hires the smartest people in the world, become so ideologically driven and intolerant of scientific debate and reasoned argument?
We all have moral preferences and beliefs about how the world is and should be. Having these views challenged can be painful, so we tend to avoid people with differing values and to associate with those who share our values. This self-segregation has become much more potent in recent decades. We are more mobile and can sort ourselves into different communities; we wait longer to find and choose just the right mate; and we spend much of our time in a digital world personalized to fit our views.
Google is a particularly intense echo chamber because it is in the middle of Silicon Valley and is so life-encompassing as a place to work. With free food, internal meme boards and weekly companywide meetings, Google becomes a huge part of its employees’ lives. Some even live on campus. For many, including myself, working at Google is a major part of their identity,almost like a cult with its own leaders and saints, all believed to righteously uphold the sacred motto of “Don’t be evil.”
Echo chambers maintain themselves by creating a shared spirit and keeping discussion confined within certain limits. As Noam Chomsky once observed, “The smart way to keep people passive and obedient is to strictly limit the spectrum of acceptable opinion, but allow very lively debate within that spectrum.”
But echo chambers also have to guard against dissent and opposition. Whether it’s in our homes, online or in our workplaces, a consensus is maintained by shaming people into conformity or excommunicating them if they persist in violating taboos. Public shaming serves not only to display the virtue of those doing the shaming but also warns others that the same punishment awaits them if they don’t conform.
In my document, I committed heresy against the Google creed by stating that not all disparities between men and women that we see in the world are the result of discriminatory treatment.
When I first circulated the document about a month ago to our diversity groups and individuals at Google, there was no outcry or charge of misogyny. I engaged in reasoned discussion with some of my peers on these issues, but mostly I was ignored.
Everything changed when the document went viral within the company and the wider tech world. Those most zealously committed to the diversity creed—that all differences in outcome are due to differential treatment and all people are inherently the same—could not let this public offense go unpunished. They sent angry emails to Google’s human-resources department and everyone up my management chain, demanding censorship, retaliation and atonement.
Upper management tried to placate this surge of outrage by shaming me and misrepresenting my document, but they couldn’t really do otherwise: The mob would have set upon anyone who openly agreed with me or even tolerated my views. When the whole episode finally became a giant media controversy, thanks to external leaks, Google had to solve the problem caused by my supposedly sexist, anti-diversity manifesto, and the whole company came under heated and sometimes threatening scrutiny.
It saddens me to leave Google and to see the company silence open and honest discussion. If Google continues to ignore the very real issues raised by its diversity policies and corporate culture, it will be walking blind into the future—unable to meet the needs of its remarkable employees and sure to disappoint its billions of users.
so like even if the cult leader thing isnt canon and is unobtainable, the fact of the matter still stands that joseph sleeps around and actively cheats on his wife
we were lead to assume in the beginning that mary was unfaithful, that we should feel sympathy for joseph, that mary is no good for him and that we should step in and help him
but through roberts path you learn that mary doesnt actually cheat on joseph. she idly flirts with younger men and drinks excessively to try and cope with the fact that her husband is consistently cheating on her, the man that she has 4 kids with and is hinted to have had a 5th that was lost possibly during childbirth or just a straight up miscarriage.
mary deserves more respect, don’t praise wonder bread kendoll he’s supposed to be a fuckboy under a youth minister guise.
i say as i want him to poud my ass with his demon dick but thats beside the point
I just realized there’s next to no one pointing out how
easily David gets jealous because hoo boy is he the jealous type.
How do you get him to try and rid the camp of an evil cult
leader? Have Max say he likes him. (“Better Than You” is pretty damn
self-explanatory too, David really does think he’s a better counselor, and he
Also when he beats Bonquisha’s new boyfriend with a chair,
which is like the only time we see him just totally wail on someone.
Make of that what you will, fic writers. Davey gets mad jelly.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Mephiles the Tasmanian devil and silver the hedgehog!
Like I said before mephiles is a cult leader in my redesigns and silver is his “adopted” kid.. Mephiles is a nasty person and silver ran away..He likes life outside his cult much better!
My face when the fandom tries to compare a brainwashed, drugged Ray’s crimes to that blonde Marshall Applewhite wannabe’s crimes.
Rika was literally controlling him, y'all. Don’t forget that. It wouldn’t make any difference if she was a man, I’d still hate his cult leader, ‘stabbing my ex cuz he doesn’t love me anymore’ ass. You can’t compare the situations, Ray is Rika’s victim.
She took a boy that knew next to nothing about the world because of his extremely abusive mother who didn’t let him outside, and started giving him a drug that flooded him with dopamine. She convinced him to hate his brother for leaving him in order to make him dependent on her and only her. Ray clung to her because she made him experience happiness for the first time, even if it was fake and drug induced.
The drug is never fully explained, but it causes hallucinations and makes you ill after prolonged use, and Ray has been using it for years. I know from my experience with psychedelics, that if your mind is not in the right place when you take drugs, it will seriously fuck you up. It can change your worldview and personality completely. Set and setting are extremely important, and mentally unstable individuals should not take it.
I was in a terribly depressed mood for hours once after taking LSD, just from watching the first episode of Trailer Park Boys, my mind was stuck on a loop of how truly terrible their lives are. This show is a fucking comedy, and it had me in a bad mental spot for about 6 hours. Just imagine what it would do to a boy who has had the life Ray has.
There’s a reason for the term ‘trip baby sitting.’ Other’s influences are really strong, and if you start to spiral into a bad place, you need someone to talk you through. Rika obviously used this vulnerable state that she induced in Ray to shape his mind for her selfish purposes.
I’m sure there was a trial and error period before they got the dosing to the point where people could function well while on it, so Ray has probably been in the state V was at one point or another. And we all saw how depressed V was after it began to wear off. Ray doesn’t take the elixer regularly because it hurts his stomach. So hes on a constant drug induced wave of depressed followed by a forced high from dopamine. Speaking of dopamine, his ability to produce it naturally is probably completely shot from prolonged use.
The elixer seems to have some psychedelic properties, but it’s definitely mixed with something else to cause physical harm. Psychedelics only cause psychological damage, hence the name, and there’s no known case of overdosing on them. Mixing drugs is very, very dangerous, and I can guarantee that Rika isn’t qualified to do so safely. Take note that we never see her taking it.
Long story short, Rika fucked Ray up mentally. If he stopped taking this drug, or never took it to begin with, I highly suspect he wouldn’t have been so committed to Rika or to ‘paradise.’ Would he be pretty fucked from past trauma? Definitely. But I really don’t believe he would be so far gone if Rika hadn’t lied and manipulated his mind.
All I’m trying to say here, is I’ve seen a lot of people defending her, saying the fans would like her if she was a guy, or excusing her actions because of mental issues, or saying Ray is just as bad, and that’s simply not the case. Ray sympathizers aren’t ignoring his crimes, we’re just aware that he’s been manipulated into them, and that makes all the difference. And its really a disservice to fellow fans to think they aren’t aware of or don’t care about the bad things Ray has done. We want him to be happy because he never stood a chance, because we know that deep down, he’s actually not a bad person, he’s just been used as a puppet for Rika’s selfishness, and that HE DESERVES BETTER.
Rika, however, seems to be truly, deeply malicious. No one is manipulating Rika. This is all her. I would hate her just as much if she was a man, because these actions cannot be excused no matter what. In my book, she’s just as bad as other cult leaders, like Marshall Applewhite and Charles Manson, who are, you guessed it, MEN. I have no sympathy for whose who use the vulnerability of abused people for their own purposes, which is a big reason I don’t like religion in general, but that’s a whole other rant that I won’t get into here.
Sorry for getting so serious, just felt it needed to be addressed. I’ll be back to regularly scheduled programming soon.
For years, the Grammy winner was best known for her experimental music. Then dating Cara Delevingne put her in the spotlight. What’s next, asks Tom Lamont?
Saturday 19 August 2017 06.00 EDT
The musician St Vincent, a 34-year-old Texan whose real name is Annie Clark, is talking about body piercings. Though her outfit today includes such exotic items as a leopardskin onesie and a pink blazer made of some sort of wetsuit fabric, Clark doesn’t have any outlandish piercings herself; she just has droll and strong opinions about them, as she has droll and strong opinions about a lot of things.
“Didn’t it always make you laugh,” Clark says, already laughing, softly, in the museum in London where we meet one summer afternoon, “how people in the 90s who had, like, tongue rings? How they’d always make some sort of comment, intimating that it made them, like, better at oral sex? That was the whole wink-wink thing, right? That a tongue ring meant they were kinda kinky? But then, I guess the challenge – because they were constantly fidgeting with this gross thing in their mouth! I guess the challenge became: no one wanted to get head from them.” She hoots with amusement, just loud enough to turn heads in the hushed museum.
Conversation with Clark is like this: a bit unexpected, a bit arch, a bit sexy. She sometimes speaks so slowly and carefully it’s as if she’s reviewing individual words before committing to them. But, as with the lyrics of the songs she writes as St Vincent – always inventive, always making disarming leaps between ideas – you can never predict where her thinking will travel next. Quickly the chat about oral sex gives way to the matter of her own death, and her expectations of a brisk cremation. Before I know quite how, she’s got me talking about an irrational fear of being buried alive. “Get cremated!” she urges.
I ask Clark – who will soon release her fifth solo album, a follow-up to 2014’s self-titled St Vincent – why she suggested we meet in London’s Wellcome Collection, to combine our interview with a tour around the museum’s collection of antique medical equipment. Clark peers with interest at a display of old enema syringes and explains that in every unfamiliar city, “you should try to see something real and strange”. It was something the Talking Heads frontman David Byrne once advised her about touring the world, and she’s stuck to it ever since.
So far I’ve enjoyed the kind of success where I might get a free appetiser sent to my table. But it’s never a main
That phrase – “real and strange” – describes Clark’s appeal as a musician. She is a generational talent on guitar, one of those poised, unperspiring types who can do the manually ludicrous while hardly appearing to try. Seen live, Clark’s fingers flit over the strings of her instrument with utmost precision – that’s the real in her. The strange comes via the writing and the composition, which on her four St Vincent albums since 2007 have tended towards the experimental and jagged-edged. Lyrically, she might choose a thing (prostitution, CCTV surveillance, prescription drugs) and then chew it over in repetitive, often anguished ways, before elevating the mood with a sudden joke. “Oh, what an ordinary day!” she sang on a track from her last album. “Take out the garbage… Masturbate.”
Genre labels won’t stick to her. Song to song, Clark might channel Björk then Iron Maiden, then belt out a disco number before pretending to be a fey, shoe-gazing whisper-singer. In the manner of FKA twigs or Héloïse “Christine and the Queens” Letissier, she is a performance artist as much as she is a performer; last year Clark played a gig dressed as a toilet, complete with cistern, protruding bowl and flush. And like twigs, who for many years has been in a relationship with the Twilight actor Robert Pattinson, Clark has managed to cultivate a shadowy, unknowable persona while at the same time dating a wildly high-profile superstar. For 18 months or so, until a break-up made public last summer, Clark was going out with Cara Delevingne, arguably the best-known model in the world.
St Vincent and Glass Animals play in London, February 2014. Photograph: London News Pictures/Rex
In the museum, while leaning over a glass display of clay death masks and shrunken human heads, we discuss Clark’s scaling achievements as St Vincent. From album to album, over a decade, her sales as well as her reviews have improved in happy tandem. The most recent album, 2014’s St Vincent, was her best to date, a wild, raucous thing, written in part during Ambien-soaked nights on tour, that eventually won her a Grammy. “It sounds like a very Pollyanna-ish thing to say,” Clark says, “but my ethos has always been to just make the music that I hear in my head. And I’ve been incredibly lucky, so far, that that’s seemed to correspond to external progress.”
Where does she place herself right now in the music industry? “So far I’ve enjoyed the kind of success where I might get, like, a free appetiser sent to my table,” Clark says. “And that’s awesome, I’m thrilled by that.” She fixes a level gaze before adding: “But it’s never a main.”
A word about her hair. Three years ago, while touring and promoting that self-titled record, Clark had a fantastic and unforgettable do – a triangular mountain of silver-bleached curls that made her look, in her own words, “like a scary cult leader”. I half-expected her to show up that way today, under the same teetering pile of silver, but Clark says the bleach killed off that haircut years back. She had to shear off her frazzled curls, “and then my look was less cult leader, more ‘Why do you have a rodent on your head?’”
She has a flair for naming her own haircuts, having cycled through such past constructions as “the Audrey Hepburn with anger issues” and “the Nick Cave minus the receding hairline”, and when I ask about the straightened black parting she has today, Clark decides: “I want to call this one… the Lara-Flynn-Boyle-in-the-90s.”
She isn’t quite such a speedy creator of names for her albums. The new LP still doesn’t have a title. I’ve heard about two-thirds of it and it’s superb – the same appealing, enigmatic, genre-spliced collision of ideas and influences that St Vincent fans cherish, only this time with a sleeker, more accessible through-line that ought to further expand her listenership. Some of the tracks, such as the scratchy, stirring Hang On Me, would work as well over the titles of a grand HBO drama as played through fizzing speakers in a dive bar. There are moments of peculiar, wonderful poetry. “Sometimes I feel like an inland ocean,” Clark sings, on a track called Smoking Section. “Too big to be a lake, too small to be an attraction.”
A number of the songs certainly sound as though they pick over the end of a serious relationship, in particular an astonishing meta-epic she has written called LA, which seems to be about a break-up (“How can anybody have you and lose you and not lose their mind, too?”), while at the same time being about a fiercely avant garde musician’s reluctance to do anything as obvious as write about a break-up. “I guess that’s just me, honey, I guess that’s how I’m built,” Clark sings, “I try to write you a love song but it comes out in a melt.”
Delevingne would be the most likely identity of “honey” here. But Clark is far too cool in person – and too determinedly non-specific as a lyricist – to admit to anything like that. “I don’t love it when musicians speak about their records being ‘diaries’ or ‘therapy’,” she says. “It removes that level of deep instinct and imagination that is necessary in order to make something that transcends.” She adds that such ways of talking too often become “erroneously gendered, in the sense that the assumption from the culture at large is that women only know how to write things autobiographically, or diaristically, which is a sexist way of implying that they lack imagination.”
This being said, Clark concedes, “my whole life is in this record. And this is one of the first interviews I’ve done about it. And I guess I haven’t 100% figured out how to talk about it. I mean…” She laughs suddenly, a brilliant, solemnity-shattering hoot. Clark is aware there will be an assumption that a lot of her new songs are about her ex. “I’ve really got to figure this out, right? If I’m going to ever be able to talk about the record?”
As is her custom whenever she’s finalising an album, Clark has currently placed herself in what she calls “deep nun mode”. Single. Work-focused. “Completely monastic. Sober, celibate – full nun.” I’m pretty sure she’s joking when she adds, in her slow, funny, unpredictable way, “I mean there are always sex plans. But none for, like, a month.”
Photograph: Arcin Sagdic for the Guardian
Clark was born in 1982, briefly an Oklahoman before her parents separated and Clark relocated with her mother and two older sisters to a suburb of Dallas, Texas. “My mom was a social worker. She dedicated her life to doing very admirable things. One of my sisters more or less followed on that path, making the world a better place. But I did not.” Though Clark would see her father during school holidays, she describes her teenage years as “matri-focal”. She was surrounded mostly by women. “And Mom’s mantra was: ‘We girls can do anything.’ She didn’t explicitly call it feminism, but it was baked into our DNA.”
Her mother had a quirky, creative streak.
Once, after she’d accidentally crashed the family car, she was so intrigued by the aesthetics of the wreck, she climbed out to take photographs of it. “There was probably a picture taken of me and my sisters every day of our childhood. Have I seen any of those pictures? No. Has she gotten them developed? Mostly not. It was just her way of feeling safe, I guess, as if things would last for ever because she had documentation of it.”
Is Clark the same in her songwriting? Documenting and so holding on to vanishing events and feelings? “I’m trying to get rid of things,” Clark laughs. “I’m trying to expel them.”
We walk to Regent’s Park, where the warm weather and an outdoor art show have drawn a milling crowd. A sculpture installed by the park entrance resembles a tall pile of replica footballs. Fitting, as Clark was quite a player when she was young, soccer one of an eclectic assembly of high-school interests. “I was probably insufferable. I was the president of the theatre club, the kid who put Bertrand Russell quotes on their wall.” When I ask who her friends were at the time, she does not hesitate: “Oh, the sluts and the weirdos.”
Clothes from a selection, garethpughstudio.com. Styling: Priscilla Kwateng. Stylist’s assistant: Stanislava Sihelska. Hair: Stephen Beaver at Artists & Company. Makeup: Dele Olo. Photograph: Arcin Sagdic for the Guardian
Music was her main obsession. “I was a 10-year-old fan of Pearl Jam and Nirvana, and I would’ve got into a fistfight defending them. Art mattered.” Her maternal uncle, Tuck Andress, was a touring musician, half of a jazz duo called Tuck & Patti, and during the summer Clark graduated from high school he gave her a job assisting his band on tour. Clark enrolled at a music college in Boston after that and lasted a couple of years before dropping out and heading back out on the road, this time as a musician in her own right. She toured successfully as part of the expansive, experimental band the Polyphonic Spree and later as a guitarist for Sufjan Stevens.
She’s always been a political liberal – these days, one in mourning over last November’s election (“I feel like we watched America vote on their daddy issues”) as well as the reign of President Trump, a man she refers to as “a cartoon yeast infection”. As early as her teenage years, Clark had to get accustomed to the fact that a great many political and social norms, predominant in the suburbs where she grew up, were not her norms.
She believes in the essential fluidity of sexuality and of gender. (“Boys!” she sings on a new track called Sugarboy, “I am a lot like you. Girls! I am a lot like you.”) “The mutability of gender and sexuality, as you can probably imagine – that was not a prevalent subject in the suburbs of Dallas when I was growing up. Not even a little bit! And no shade on it now. I love Texas, I’m there all the time seeing family. But I was always gonna get out of there. It felt imperative that I get out of there.”
I can only write about my life, and dating Cara was a big part of my life
In her 20s she moved to New York, borrowing the name St Vincent from one of the city’s hospitals, by way of its mention in a Nick Cave song. (St Vincent’s hospital was where “Dylan Thomas died drunk”, as Cave sang in There She Goes, My Beautiful World.) She released a debut record called Marry Me in 2007 and toured it through Europe to dispiritingly inattentive audiences, carrying away from London a special memory of “playing in a pub where you definitely couldn’t hear me over the crowd”. Between her next couple of records, Actor (2009) and Strange Mercy (2011), her career really started to take off. She performed on US chatshows; wrote and wrote; founded an influential creative relationship with Byrne, after he approached her at one of her gigs. “I was kind of stunned,” Byrne later said, of seeing Clark play guitar for the first time. The pair would collaborate on a celebrated 2012 album, Love This Giant.
By the time her 2014 album won the Grammy for best alternative album, Clark was entitled to ask, as she did ask: “Alternative to what?” Prince came to one of her shows, and she was invited to guest-guitar for the surviving members of Nirvana, later for Taylor Swift. As an award nominee at the Brits in spring 2015, Clark came and went on the arm of Delevingne – and pretty much overnight her public persona became a curious, split thing. As St Vincent, she was a fiercely respected musician, patiently fattening a fanbase in the most honourable way, by writing and recording and touring hard. As the “secret girlfriend” (Metro) who was “secretly dating” (Mirror) Delevingne, she was tabloid feed. Clark saw first-hand what it was like for somebody she cared about to be “hounded, hassled, hacked – all of that stuff”.
‘Certain levels of fame are unenviable’: with Talking Heads’ David Byrne
“Having seen certain levels of fame,” Clark tells me, “having been, y’know, fame adjacent… That in and of itself seems very hectic to me. If it’s a natural byproduct of doing what it is you love? Then great. But there are certain levels of fame that I’ve seen, just by proxy, that are unenviable.”
If the upward trend of her music continues, she might find herself in a similar place, whether willed or not. Clark shrugs. “I can’t control any of that stuff. So what am I gonna do? I’m just gonna keep making music. I know this is another Pollyanna answer, but it’s about the music. Did I write better songs than on the last album? Did I sing them better? Did I play better guitar? Did I connect?”
Maybe it was that I heard a low-quality version of the track, but on a new-album song called Pills there was a minor failure to connect. I misheard the song as having a lyric about somebody being “defamed by fame”, something I took to refer to Clark’s 18-month stretch in a celebrity relationship and all the demeaning wrangling with paparazzi and gossip bloggers that must have entailed. Clark looks panicked and says, no, the lyric was about someone being “de-fanged by fame… What I was referring to was that people’s art sometimes suffers when they get into that too-big-to-fail mindset. How things get really boring when people get too risk-averse, or too comfortable, or when they have overheads that are too high.” She can’t seem to get my mishearing of the lyric out of her head, though. “Oh!” she says eventually. “Maybe ‘defamed by fame’ is better?”
For a moment she seems to be wondering how quickly she can sprint to Heathrow from here, and fly back to America to rerecord it. In the end she decides she’ll let listeners hear what they want to hear. “There is no way to control how people perceive a song. And if you try to, my God, are you in for a sisyphean task.”
In the park we walk up a promenade between neatly manicured flowerbeds. When we settle on a bench, Clark seems overawed. “This is so beautiful,” she says. “I love this. Do you know how hard we’d have to work, in the States, to keep something this beautiful this beautiful?”
With former partner Cara Delevingne in September 2015. Photograph: Dave Benett/Getty Images for Burberry
She’s now ready to address the Delevingne quandary. When the new record is out, reference to her ex will be exhaustively scoured for – it’s already started to happen, as when Clark released a single called New York in June, and Vice responded with a think-piece: “Is St Vincent’s new track a love song for Cara Delevingne?” Nobody trawled through her past writing about CCTV surveillance, or masturbation, in quite that way. “Nuh uh,” Clark says.
She takes a breath. “Right! Um. I’ve always kept my writing close to the vest. And by that I mean I’m always gonna write about my life. Sometimes, in the past, I did that way more obliquely than now. But it’s almost like an involuntary reflex. I can’t help but be living and also taking notes on what’s going on, always trying to figure out how to put that into a song. And that does not mean there’s literal truth in every lyric on the way. Of course not. But I can only write about my life, and that – dating Cara – was a big part of my life. I wouldn’t take it off-limits, just because my songs might get extra scrutiny. People would read into them what they would, and you know what? Whatever they thought they found there would be absolutely right. And at the same time it would be absolutely wrong.”
Clark looks out across the park. “A song that means something very specific to me, a song in which I might be obliquely or otherwise exploring some really dark things, is a song that another person might hear and go: ‘Wow, this one really puts a smile on my face.’ I’m thrilled by that. I’m thrilled that people might take my songs into their life and make whatever suits them out of it.”
Clark nods: done. She lets her gaze travel over the park, over the sculptures in the distance, a couple of which look like giant ice-cream cones.
Earlier, she said that she’d got to a point in her career where strangers would send over free starters. If this new album does as well it should, I start to say… “I know, right?” Clark interrupts. “If I play my cards right? With this album? I might – get dessert.” She hoots.
• St Vincent’s new single, New York, is out now through Loma Vista/Caroline International.
• Opening photograph by Arcin Sagdic for The Guardian
does the exact opposite of what he said “leftists” do of labeling people to factionalize them and divide them further by actually identifying their labels and status quo. Instead, of this he uses their differences to unite them under the commonality of humiliation, which in turn stems rage and hatred. So somehow he has united these seemingly contrasting ideologies in himself. Kai really is extremely smart because no matter what party someone believes in, what prejudices they face or don’t face, they still have fear. Even a white male sexually assaulting a woman, despite his entitlement, is afraid of humiliation. So, fear is something to feed and breed upon. Kai in my opinion isn’t homophobic, xenophobic - because those would in themselves of “phobic” require fear, racist, misogynist, or any of those factionalized forms of hatred. He is overall misanthropic and all of those rolled into one. He hates EVERYONE, and fosters hope and allegiance from those who are affected by factionalized forms of hatred.
Kai is not a good person by any means, but he is smart. He knows how people tick. He’s charismatic like any other cult leader because he tells people what they want, no need, to hear. He gives them hope that they can infect humanity with their disenfranchisement and rage, when in fact, he wants to disinfect it and wipe it clean entirely. World domination fueled by taking away fear and empowering others to feel like they are capable of doing anything. That they are fear themselves.
Yet, there is inevitably some fear that he too possesses, like any other human, and that is what differentiates him between being this “religion” or “god” people want to have faith in. I find it interesting as well that he is on medication, whatever it may be, and utilizes masks given that he claims to have no fear and fetters from freedom. Perhaps, his multi-faced clown mask is representative that he suffers from MPD?
5-1-2 Combos: The Insufferable Know-It-All. They think they know everything there is to know about everything, and they cannot contain their urges to share their knowledge with absolutely everyone. They correct people over the tiniest mistakes with no concern for any self-consciousness this may cause and then act disingenuously confused when others get upset.
5-1-3 Combos: The Neurotic Over-Achiever. These are the students who cry over getting a B+ or not being the best at their extracurricular activity of choice. They tend not to do very well outside of school unless they get to become doctors. Even then, they usually end up overly competitive and have hollow social and family lives.
5-1-4 Combos: The Ivory-Tower Prophet. Think they have a perfect vision of what’s best for the world based on nothing but untested theory and fantastical introspection. Needs to actually get out and talk to people in order to actually refine their ideals, but they are often unwilling to because that might involve admitting they are wrong or dealing with people they consider less than them.
5-8-2 Combos: The Armchair Shrink. Read a Psych 101 textbook once and now thinks they are qualified to give drive-by diagnoses and overly impersonal life advice. Tends to be very overbearing about it and generally refuses to listen to further information from their “patients”, particularly if it goes against their assumptions.
5-8-3 Combos: The Cult Leader. Has some bizarre philosophy that they propagate using hollow social influence and brutal aggression. Speaks in pyramid-scheme language and literally never shuts up until you are brow-beaten into submission because your own mind intimidated itself trying to figure out what the hell they were trying to say.
5-8-4 Combos: The Self-Important Jerk. Like the Cult Leader, but lazier and with fewer social skills. Turns their nose up at any preferences or modes of living other than their own and resents anyone who doesn’t see eye to eye with them 100%. They’re very bossy, but their instructions are often terse and unclear, and to make matters worse, they just get mad at you when you tell them to explain because they’re over-sensitive about being misunderstood.
5-9-2 Combos: The Unsolicited Mediator. They hate conflict, but they can’t stand to stay out of it, either. If you’re having a dispute with somebody, expect them to show up spouting inappropriate objectivity and some sterile, by-the-book advice about using I-statements and whatnot. This is actually pretty effective in resolving the disputes, but not in the way they want it to - instead of being mad at the person you were initially disputing with, now you are both mad at The Unsolicited Mediator and must unite against the common enemy.
5-9-3 Combos: The Amoral Monster. Not much seems to bother them, which is nice at first until you realize their “tolerance” stems from the fact that they have no sensibilities to offend. They lack conviction and will use flimsy, pulled-out-of-ass logic to dodge responsibilities and defend their selfish decisions.
5-9-4 Combos: The Pretentious Hippie. The most reclusive of all the archetypes. You aren’t good enough to be their friend, so don’t even try. You’re not on their level and you harsh their vibes, man. They tend to be very unhappy unless they’re living in a sustainable homestead in the middle of nowhere. Bitches about how the Internet is destroying our minds but spends most of their time online anyway.
6-1-2 Combos: The Sanctimonious Sap-Addict. They talk as if they live in a Hallmark card, chain e-mail, or cheesy coming-of-age film. They probably feel really guilty about dumb things, and then you start wondering if you should, too. They tend to be religious and intolerant of those who don’t share their views or ways of life. Thankfully the ways they tend to show this intolerance are pretty harmless - panicking and crying. Nobody can stand to listen to them because, despite the motivational tone of their messages, they make everyone around them feel awful for not being as wholesome as they are.
6-1-3 Combos: The Thought Police. Similar to The Cipher (6-9-3 Combos), but more prone to forcing their boringness on others. While the Cipher avoids personality clashes by either blending in with or withdrawing from those with different priorities, those of the Thought Police archetype wage a crusade against them by asserting the moral superiority of their way of life. They have convinced themselves they are perfect so to avoid the emotional pain of having to re-evaluate their lives, but in order to maintain this illusion, they must live in an echo chamber. Don’t put them in the same room as the 6-1-2, it’s not a pretty sight.
6-1-4 Combos: The Ball of Self Hatred. Nobody wants to listen to these people, no matter how good their ideas might be, because they can’t even listen to themselves - even when they want to. They certainly have minds of their own, unfortunately, they don’t tend to use them unless it’s convenient (Spoiler Alert: it rarely is.) They ruin their own lives by repressing positive emotions, ruminating on wrongdoings (both theirs and those of others), and being unable to trust or feel good about anything unless it is completely beyond criticism.
6-8-2 Combos: The Overbearing Meddler. Anything they wouldn’t do is a bad idea that you need to be scared and bullied out of. This also goes for many things they WOULD do, because they are hypocrites. They say it’s for your own good, but they wouldn’t know the first thing about that if it bit them on the nose because they live with their heads in their asses. They tend to have plenty of their own issues, which they chronically avoid by micromanaging others. More projection than a cinema multiplex.
6-8-3 Combos: The Overworked Grouch. These are people who cannot wind down for the life of them. This tendency would generally not affect anyone other than themselves, but it does because they get mad at other people for relaxing. They see others’ satisfaction with less as an affront because it means that maybe all their overwork was for nothing, but instead of giving relaxation a chance, they choose to act like arrogant dicks in hopes that others will change to suit them instead.
6-8-4 Combos: The Extremist. Fiercely and belligerently loyal to a set of beliefs that no one else shares. Believes their pet issue (frequently something that directly affects them) to be the center of the universe and ridicules opposing viewpoints. They might be nice to you if you agree with everything they say, but even then, they probably won’t - you come second to the crusade.
6-9-2 Combos: The Martyr. No will or interests of their own. Gives their entire life up for the sake of an individual or a group - and it’s usually a dysfunctional one. They don’t even complain if they aren’t appreciated or thanked (they don’t expect it), but Heaven forbid there comes a time when they are no longer needed. They will plunge into depression and impotent rage as they search desperately for another object of their overly-submissive affections.
6-9-3 Combos: The Cipher. Your next-door neighbor who thinks the street you live on is the center of the universe. It’s not completely certain that people of this archetype actually have personalities or if their attitudes and behavior are just absorbed from their surroundings and upbringing. They may be rigidly set in their ways or they may be a perpetually-shifting chameleon (depending on the order of the numbers) - there isn’t much in between, but either way, they’re unbelievably boring.
6-9-4 Combos: The Special Snowflake. They at least try to be interesting, if only on a superficial level, but can’t keep it up for very long. They might seem endearingly quirky until you meet the people they hang out with, who are all pretty much just like them. To their credit, they’re usually pleasant enough company in that they couldn’t be cruel if they tried (though they are plenty judgmental in their thinking), but their flakiness and squirrely behavior usually prove too annoying for anyone to really keep them around for long.
7-1-2 Combos: The Wack-tivist. Thinks they’re hot stuff because they’ve helped out in a bunch of Third World countries. That’s great, of course, but it would be a lot better if they could shut up about it for five minutes. Excessively smug about all the different charity groups they participate in through their church and/or university while you just wonder where the hell they find the time and what you’re doing wrong with your life.
7-1-3 Combos: The Tweaker. Okay, so they may or may not actually use speed, but one thing is for sure; this archetype never sleeps. Ever. They have a full time job and several different hobbies, clubs, and volunteer groups, and they feel the need to excel and gain recognition within all of them. They are always on the go, but unlike the Overworked Grouch (6-8-3 Combos), they’re eerily chipper about it. In fact, they’re very sad when there’s nothing to do, because then they are forced to think about their feelings, which they are notoriously bad at. And it should be obvious how they feel about being bad at anything (Hint: it isn’t positively).
7-1-4 Combos: The Fanatic. A obnoxious mass of scatterbrained and stubborn behavior. Has their own personal brand of ethics and spirituality, which tends to involve a lot of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. They at least practice what they preach, so that’s one good thing about them - unfortunately, they don’t ever really talk much about anything else. They just find a million different ways and contexts in which to talk about it.
7-8-2 Combos: The Bootstraps Idealist. Like the Overbearing Meddler (6-8-2 Combos), but with an extra dose of irresponsibility. They think the answer to all your problems is for you to do extremely difficult or extravagant things without considering whether or not you have the time or resources. Often refuses to acknowledge health issues (both mental and physical), as well. Any reason why you can’t do the things they are telling you to do is because of your lack of positive attitude instead of actual reality. Usually has more than a few terrible habits, but will try and fool you into thinking they have all their ducks in a row by giving faux motivational speeches.
7-8-3 Combos: The Inconsiderate Douche. It doesn’t really get any worse than this. Loud, obnoxious, and hopelessly shallow, a person of this archetype may seem very popular, but their circle of friends is a revolving door because they just won’t stop screwing people over for the sake of their ambitions or disregarding their feelings. Stay far, far away.
7-8-4 Combos: The Conspiracy Theorist. Being paranoid and accusing the government of hiding all kinds of scary, exciting things from us is fun for them. Imagining that there is at least one conspiracy that targets them personally is even more fun. What they don’t understand is that it isn’t as much fun for everyone around them. If you tell them you don’t believe them or even that you’re just sick of hearing about it, they flip their lid and go off about how you’re an idiot and just want to remain ignorant.
7-9-2 Combos: The Walking New-Age Store. This complete knob of an archetype has a saying or quote for everything, but never really seems to think critically about or have anything of their own to add to the words they are repeating. Hardly anyone has the heart to tell them how canned-corny and downright unhelpful they are, because they just seem so blissful and earnest. It would be like popping a hot air balloon, on every possible level.
7-9-3 Combos: The Goldfish. Completely without any self-awareness, this archetype flits perpetually from one superficial interest to the next. Unsurprisingly, they find very little satisfaction from anything, no matter how enthusiastically they may dive into it. The creepiest part about this is that they are so numb and hollow, they barely even notice how unsatisfied they are - they’ve fooled themselves into believing this is a happy existence.
7-9-4 Combos: The Entitled Vagabond. Goes on long road trips for no real reason, couch-surfing all the way. Quite possibly has no permanent address or bank account, and they are okay with this. Does a lot of odd jobs and possibly illegal things; has never had an actual job in their life, because it just isn’t their style, man. They’re actually not too insufferable as long as you don’t expect much from them and don’t mind their mooching. Unfortunately, whatever positivity they may bring to your life will be short-lived; as soon as they pick up and leave (which they will), they will all but forget you even exist.
name: kane or “kale” hastings age: young adult pronouns: he/him life state: appears to be some sort of alien - when asked he says “our spiritual selves are all the same so it doesn’t matter what i am” bio: - very into spirituality and wellbeing, wants to write a whole series of books to help people with discovering themselves - is vegetarian and his favourite food is kale hence “kale” hastings - spend 40% of his day meditating and doing yoga - is funny and charming, was voted “most likely to become a cult leader” in high school - is looking for someone who can be both his physical and spiritual soulmate for life, death and beyond
I like to think once they got past the whole cult leader thing max and Daniel would be chill with each other like a love hate relationship
“I don’t care if you’re a cult leader you have to be a good influence around the kids” Daniel and max look at each other Daniel: “you heard it to right?” Max:” yea”
Daniel: he still docent believe im a ?”
Max: welcome to my world
I kinda hope the cult ending is just an Easter egg and not actually canon caus I like joseph, and the idea of him being this evil cult leader kinda makes me physically sick.
A lot of people are thinking the same thing as you. It looks like there might be a bug preventing you from getting Joseph’s good ending, and I assume that the cult ending is a standalone thing? The cult symbols really do look like ship steering wheels, Robert and Joseph probably just had a rocky past—Rob’s “Johnnyboy” could’ve been Joseph, and they could have matching tattoos—and I highly doubt there’s a room underneath the cul de sac dedicated to blood sacrifices.
Don’t get me wrong, I like the cult ending and overall plot twist, but I’m not a fan of Joseph being a completely undatable sentient garbage can. Hopefully, the good route will be debugged and we’ll have a satisfying ending. With Mary and Joseph getting a divorce, her getting help for her alcoholism, the kids not being effected by the split, and, y'know, Joseph not being a crazy fucking nutjob.
INFJ: 50/100 while physically frail and shrimpy, will use psychological warfare gleefully and liberally, then feel bad about it. Engage if necessary.
ENFJ: 60/100 Stronger than the INFJ, but not enough to win a fight on that alone. However, expert manipulator with an army of henchmen much more willing to tear you a new one. Engage if necessary.
INTJ: 20/100 All those hours hitting the books instead of hitting the gym have landed you a pair of very small noodle arms, you frickin nerd. Being smart won’t save you from a knuckle sandwich
ENTJ: 80/100 Average build, manipulative savant like the ENFJ, but these henchmen are unpaid college interns that have lost all faculties due to sleeplessness and caffeine, and will chew on your bones if promised a full-time position. Do not engage.
ISTP: 85/100 No henchmen, but you know ISTP lifts. ISTP is built like a brick house in a vintage tee. Goodbye, front teeth.
ESTP: 75/100 Fit, but lacks the impulse control and discipline to learn skilled fighting. Lands a few good punches, tires themselves out, looks hot with a bloody nose. However, an ESTP with a flamethrower: 50000000/100
INTP: 30/100 Knows all the moves, never practiced them. Flails for a while, gets bored, takes a nap, doesn’t remember what they were fighting about. You can engage, but why would you want to
ENTP: 90/100 Why such a high rating, you ask, for the sickly loudmouthed nerd ENTP? Unpredictable nature guarantees ENTP will grab whatever is nearest to them to wield in a fight. You ever been hit over the head with a desk lamp? Fuckin hurts bro
ISTJ: 75/100 or 25/100, no in between. Either ISTJ is a karate expert with superb discipline and practice, or the art they’ve chosen to invest their time and energy into was marching band, in which case, all you need is a good firm chokehold and a locker to shove them into.
ESTJ: 10/100 Beat their ass, but then get ready to dial things up to 666/100 when you get a call from daddy’s lawyer who peels the skin from your bones
ENFP: ??/100 With ENFP, it doesn’t matter. They’re gentle souls who will fight you and then invite you for piña coladas while you wonder why you were ever mad.
INFP: 1/100 Fight an INFP anytime. Just do it. Just do it. You will feel bad afterwards when they write a sad song about it, but remember: they probably deserved it.
ESFP: 70/100 All that time practicing high-kicks paid off. They will high-kick your face in and then drag you by the wig into the town square to get thoroughly picked clean.
ISFP: 55/100 Generally gentle and small, but insult their favorite indie band and they will piledrive you through a wall.
ESFJ: 95/100 Like the ENFJ, but their charm has made them basically a cult leader. Their followers, however, are like 100,000 1D stans on PCP fighting bareknuckled over a ziploc baggie of Zayn’s beard hair.
ISFJ: 100/100 They say the only things to fear are a sea in a storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man. What they don’t say is that that quote was written about an ISFJ who is tired of cleaning up after everyone’s shit. Fight an ISFJ, wake up in hell where the devil will hand you a blanket and nod with wide eyes, “ISFJ, right? I guess sometimes enough is just enough.”
Okay, so I've never seen camp camp, but can I ask why the blonde one (Daniel I think) is wearing all white in the forest?? He's gonna have such a hard time getting stains out.
The actual reason is probably design choice by the creators and tying into the eerily clean/well-kept looking and bright cult leader look (he always looked like a nurse to me like a nurse you can’t trust but tries too hard to bond with the patients and instead of comforting ends up in ur nightmares I feel like he smells like a hospital with some unidentifiable tang to it)
The option I like to believe is he’s a fuckin idiot and a dumbass
Important things to keep in mind about the Ghost drama
So I had some late night thoughts… and im itching to get it out.
Now let’s re-evaluate this lawsuit drama. Let’s take the lawsuit out of the equation and look at things more objectively.
Let me start off with throwing in my unpopular opinion (trust me, just read this post thoroughly):
I honestly don’t have the best impression of Alpha. I think he’s unprofessional and naive (his musical talent doesn’t apply here)
1) Ghost’s IG maintains a strict and specific format on each post revolving around the band’s activities. So what did Alpha do? He posted a photo of him getting his wisdom tooth removed by his wife on the band’s Instagram.
When I first saw Alpha’s photo, I honestly thought he meant to post it on his personal profile. But the caption intended it to be otherwise (it was signed off as Alpha)
Like how was this relevant to the band’s music? Were you just trying to show off your super hot wife?? ¿¿¿ I personally don’t get it. I got it now, he used his band’s exposure to promote his wife’s business. How professional 🙄
2) He took advantage of Ghost fans to hurt Papa and the new Ghouls by airing their personal private drama on his Facebook account. All it did was divide our community apart. A community that him and his band mates created. All I got from that fb post was how his drama serves more importance than the well being of his fans/community
3) Alpha’s whole new PRIEST project: The masked leader, the cult like image that shares similar qualities to Ghost. It’s a different genre for sure, but it doesn’t change the fact that it does share its similarities to the band. It screams passive aggression to me. I can’t help but to think that he’s petty how he’s not getting the recognition as he did in Ghost. And now he’s trying to gain sympathy from his Ghost fans in hopes that they’ll abandon Ghost and check out his new project instead (Which is working in very small numbers)
Now let’s take us back to a few months after the Ghouls were let go:
Maybe his past band mates felt used and now they’re finding an excuse to get their revenge on Papa for firing them. WHICHHHH BRINGS ME TO A POINT…
*I believe that Ghost was intended to be a solo act from the very start. *
If you look at the band from a visual pov, Papa has always been the spokesperson/face of Ghost. You think of Ghost, you think of Papa first. I can see/interpret how the Ghouls’ presence were initially used to strengthen that cult-like image to band, which is fair and a smart business decision to attract an audience. It’s unique, it’s bold, it’s loud, and it’s a head-turner (Insert their red carpet Grammy videos)
Now somewhere along the way, the Ghouls started to catch the attention of the audience because of their strong stage/media presence (Think of it as Gru and his minions from Despicable Me. Gru might be the main character, but those cute ass minions caught the heart of many as well)
And maybe Papa wasn’t okay with that and it’s not what he wanted when he wanted to become a solo act.
Since The Ghouls agreed that he would be the band leader, Papa can do whatever he pleases with them.
So Papa, why not just hire random musicians/stand ins if you wanted to go solo in the first place?
1) Renting musicians aren’t cheap, especially if they charge x amount of personal rate/show. It’s better to start off with a bunch of close friends and settle in on an agreement than having to comply to a rented musician’s compensation . You’ll have to deal with more legal paperwork and later on someone will always want to demand more money or exposure.
#2) It takes money to make money. If you take a look at their costume designs and their set designs on stage, it takes up a lot of artistic design components. Costume designers/Set designers don’t come in cheap. At all. Now imagine having to pay for those bills when you’re a relatively small band? We’ve had 3 Papas with 4 different costumes and 2-3 Ghoul costume designs for each band member. That’s at least 6 different costume designs. Normally, rock bands just wear store bought clothing (most of them are normally sponsored by the brand) but since Ghost has such a strong/specific visual image that they can’t get away with your seasonal Halloween attire. It’s crucial for them to invest in more money into this area because that’s one of the main reasons why they got famous in the first place.
So being in this type of band, it won’t have the greatest starting salary when you’re constantly paying off those bills. I won’t be surprised if they were still in debt within the first couple of years of touring.
At the end of the day, if this whole theory is true, then I get why they’re mad at Papa. I would get why Omega isn’t suing him because maybe he saw Papa’s true intentions and didn’t agree with it? And maybe he still wants Papa to come back to MCC if Ghost decides to disband after this feud, and not let a lawsuit cut ties on what’s left of their friendship?
(All of this is based off of my assumptions so don’t rely on me as a solid source.)
TBH I just want some objectivity brought into light because I’m seeing a lot of blinded/biased judgement. It really does hurt to see this community being divided by Alpha’s reckless Facebook post.