The idea shamelessly swiped from a mutual friend of mine on Dreamwidth, rionaleonhart. You should also check out their Neocities site, https://balambgdn.neocities.org/, because sites like these need more love.
It’s little reviews for video games they have played! All I did was narrow down the scope to games I still have lying around, for whatever generations the Playstation, Playstation 2 and XBox 360 are. I forget. oh and the DS!
My partners and therapists have been asking how I am feeling, post-election results. That’s the easy part: Disgust. Frustration. Rage. Determination and Resolve. Exhaustion. But out of all the emotions I can list, I can’t say I was surprised. A large part of me suspected the worst case scenario, and was proven right. And I hate it when my cynicism is justified.
My secondary feelings (the “emotions-to-the-emotions”) is an overwhelming… it’s not sadness. It’s resignation.
You’ve probably seen the images circulating around of the vote breakdown according to race. Most of the votes for Trump were overwhelmingly white– very similar to how 2016 shook out. And those numbers are damning. There have been various speculation as to why this happened. I keep tabbing out of this window and coming back, trying to sum up everything.
To be honest, I don’t want to.
I don’t see the point. Others have already said, and better. In a similar vein I permanently shelved a writing project debunking racist thought patterns that arrest potential dialogue because what’s the fucking point in adding another thinkpiece to the pile that is clearly getting dismissed?
I’m resigned because the vast majority of this country does not care to actually change things for the better. It would rather uphold Whiteness, and capitalism, and systematic oppression, and all the buzzwords the average Karen will tune out than grow and improve. Stacey said, if I may be glib, that there is no point in trusting white women, because performative pink pussy hats and blue bracelets are far more easier than turning the mirror on yourself and your culture.
I am resigned to the feeling that solidarity is so, so far out of reach. In my darkest thoughts, maybe it never was.
It would be so easy to isolate, shut down, don’t stick my neck out for nobody because fuck everybody else they don’t care about me. I am exhausted at defending my very existence, and for what? Those exit poll numbers? What was the fucking point?!
But I know that is wrong. My feelings are valid, yes, but me climbing into a hole of despair, disappointment, and bitterness won’t help anyone.
That’s what they want: to isolate myself.
So I will still not only exist, but be visible. I will help where I can, any way I can. I will still try to form community bonds and friendships and other ways of living in this world. I have family created and forged that I can rely on. I know who my people are.
And I will focus on that.
Outwardly, I am much more cautious and jaded.
I’m no longer extending the olive branch of my personhood and knowledge just so maybe I’ll be seen as human and treated as such. Perhaps every once in awhile I’ll get a bee in my bonnet and discuss this sort of thing, because that is just how I roll. But it won’t be in that outward, educating voice anymore.
I find myself exasperated as some are still insisting on “meeting in the middle,” trying to “change hearts and minds,” when that energy could be spent doing more productive things.
But.
It takes all kinds in a community, doesn’t it? If someone has more patience and energy than I in this endeavor, then I wish them the best. Maybe they’ll have more luck than I ever did.
So for funsies, I’m making a pronouns.page account and when I’m not looking up the unfamiliar terms, I’m wrapped up in the nuances of
And. So. On.
I love noodling over stuff like this. This is why I appreciate and enjoy microlabels. For the people that need them, they can convey exactly what they mean. And for ruminating introspective overthinkers such as myself, it is like a really good snack that I can’t put down.
I started out genderqueer… then neutrois… non-binary… now I’m feeling agender nowadays. Maybe gendervoid. Definitely staticgender–
–and oh my glob do not get me started on xenogenders we could be here all day! and neopronouns—
Ahem.
Some are happy with their Factory Settings, but I was always one of those folx who’ll mess with the settings menu and layout and colors until I get it just right. And change them again whenever.
It’s so cool how we can just customize our experience like this. If we want to.
All this creativity. We did that. We do that.
Fascinating.
…
…Maybe I’m genderfluid on a technicality.
That was the very first bumper sticker I ever put on my car… let’s say, almost two decades ago. Out of all the packers, rainbows, wigs, and glitter in that little LGBTQ shop, that was the item I ultimately came away with. It said everything I needed to say: I don’t have a problem with the whole god concept… I have a problem with the people that do horrible things in the name of their god. You don’t need to go far into the recent news cycles– and take note of the context of where I bought said bumper sticker– to see exactly what I mean.
When I slapped that thing on, I was a bit naive (or a bit dim): I didn’t think about any confrontation I may have had to endure. In the Bible Belt. And twice I was walked up to and asked to explain what I meant by that bumper sticker. Fortunately, everyone involved remained civil (the other party didn’t escalate and I kept my composure). I was also fortunate that they seemed satisfied with my response and didn’t get belligerent or even violent– doubly so when it was white folks stepping up to me, a Black stranger.
What was my answer? I simply had to Not All Religious People out those conversations. I specified “only the bad ones, and I assume you’re not one of them since we’re having a rational discussion in a parking lot instead of giving me an asphalt sandwich.”
I did have one more incident, and I promise it’s a funny one: I was dropping someone off and we were stopped at a red light. A car comes up behind me, and in the rearview mirror I see the driver absolutely losing his shit. It was after I stopped panicking that I realized that he was laughing, clapping, and pointing to the back of my car before giving me a thumbs up: turns out, that bumper sticker made his day.
I thought of that guy in my commute to work today, and I hope he’s living his best life.
I also thought of that bumper sticker… and how I’d probably get assaulted over it nowadays. Sigh.
As the WordPress environment is set aflame by one guy throwing a tantrum and lawyers sending each other strongly worded leaflets, I’m just sitting here glad that I made the switch to ClassicPress months ago. And, not for the first time, I noticed a trend in my social media restructuring: when it isn’t FOSS or decentalised, the sites I’m now most active on is a fork or reconstruction of what I grew up with.
While NekoWeb is admittedly a stretch (free hosting never went out of style), I have listed it because of how nostalgic it has made me. It’s what I keep repeating: the Old Web and how people used to build and decorate their online spaces. However, two services are forked from earlier concepts of their modern-day counterparts:
And SpaceHey is basically resurrected MySpace from the early 2000s or so… I was never on that platform proper pre-botched migration (it got better). It’s been interesting to see how it was, right now… and not as a kid, but an adult that does their own taxes and everything. I would’ve loved MySpace, especially for the hack to inject CSS. And I’m liking it now as an alternative to Facebook.
I may have been a little too excited in firing off a hasty fangirl-y email to an address that probably isn’t even monitored anymore, but I was so happy that I found the site I’ve been alluding to since college. All I had to do, all this time, was to browse my old middle-and-high school files for a certain animation with a certain username on it.
Blink and you miss it: http:// members. aol. com/ chibiusa97.(1) The pieces fell into place from there. So I sent an email. …Well, less polished and rushed than what you see here, perhaps, but the sentiment is the same.
Hello,
As I tend to do as Web 3.0 breathes down our necks, I sit back and reminisce about The Old Web… when everyone built their own little piece. I remember your website dedicated to Chibi Usa, who was also my favorite Sailor Scout. You had one of my favorite web pages in the late 90s, so I was always a little saddened that I could never remember the URL or who you were.
So, imagine my delight when I came across one of your old .ani files in my archives! A quick search of your username later and I navigated to your CS100 assignment. It’s still up, after all these decades. Coming across sites like that is like peering back into time.
The Internet is/was a very cool place, and I’m still amazed at how information is communicated on this medium, and how it has grown.
And how sites have inspired me, such as yours.
So I want to say, thank you. As a kid in 1997 browsing the Web in middle school Computer Club, to the almost-40 adult who still has a passion for this sort of thing. I hope you’re still in it, enjoying anime, and I hope this email reaches you well.
Take care,
“me”
I propose a toast for ChibiUsa97, and all the ChibiUsa97s still floating around, coding and enjoying what they love.
(1) That link no longer works, natch. However, you can view the page on the Wayback Machine. That hyperlink points to the version I’m most familiar with, but do slide around the timeline and see how it changed over the years!
It’s not often I am transported back to High School on a good memory. But with this album, I am. On some weekends with my two best friends, we’d pile up in the car and go see a show. It was typically down to Orlando, about an hour’s drive from our rural tiny towns. Until we got there we’d just talk, or play games to pass the time… like combining swear words to come up with the best (worst) one (and "Grasshopper" won that game in two seconds, with "cuntshit"). Eventually I’d see quite a few shows, wearing platform boots at the front of the stage if we weren’t at the merch tables or braving the mosh pit.
But there’s one show I remember the best.
It was Precious, a band my BFF followed and enjoyed when they lived closer to Orlando’s music scene. They have been telling me all about them, and I was excited to see them in person. And they came onto that stage and rocked. It had the hallmarks of a great live show: passion, stage presence, talent, and a responsive crowd that loved them.
In addition to their Rarities EP, I bought their second album titled "Whatever Sinks Your Ship." My favorite track, if I had to pick just one? "Youth and the Drug Explosion," for how it ends: the wail of the electric guitar, carrying on until it was the only instrument left. Steve just stood there looking cool. But overall, I love the lyrics.
Some lines I still carry around.
One of my greatest fears
Is I’d hit a motorcycler
And I think I see one coming up
Way too fast in my lane “Youth and the Drug Explosion”
There’s the beautiful.
Maybe you can be
Everything I need
The latitude and longitude
Of where I’m supposed to be “All Saints”
Some are more… blunt.
Work harder / and then you fucking die “Work”
And some I think are relatable.
I don’t need a chorus
I need somebody to hold my hand
Tell me everything is all right
What I really need right now
Is another somebody to hold me down
Tell me “Steve, you got it dead wrong” “I Wanna Die”
I saw them play at one other show, where someone had driven four hours to hopefully hear them cover "Bare Necessities."
We’ve kept in touch via AIM. The details of how we exchanged screennames escape me, but everyone was giving our their screennames willy-nilly back then. We’d chat for upwards an hour about current events, broad-strokes life things, and music. I tried not to bug him too often– he was an artist and a busy man. We kept in loose touch after I began college, until the messages tapered off completely.
I feared the worst– he was open about his kidney issues– but I’m happy to report that he’s still around. I’d been keeping a casual tab on what he’s been up to. He has been fundraising for a kidney, and after a long hiatus makes music under the name The Guarantees. But, every once in a while, I still yell Where is Steve Garron?! into the void. Out of habit.
And here’s a call to action for you: go to your local shows. There’s really nothing like them.
My Contribution to the Juneteenth pool party playlist:
Do you ever just, hate stuff?
You hate it.
And then you grew up.
Because it didn’t need all the hate I gave it. I will still argue that playing X-2 right after X can give you mood whiplash, but that didn’t deserve me writing paragraphs about how much it sucked. i’d do anything to find the bullshit i wrote so i can tear it to shreds It did carry the same score as Xenosaga, at one point, so I eventually did give it another go.
It’s fun! But don’t play it without a guide. Ask me how I know.
Unlimited SaGa was gorgeous and it’s one of my favorite games now. Other than presentation, I can’t quite remember why I dogged on it so much. That was probably the only reason. And that’s a damn shame. Its soundtrack did end up being one of my absolute I’ll-take-it-with-me-on-a-deserted-island albums.
This is one of those things where I look back on and criiiiinge. You could say it was all about the sanctity of writing all you want, but if you look at the demographic of people that wrote self-inserts with sparkly eyes constantly stealing the limelight, something becomes apparent.
It was thinly-veiled an excuse to shit on creative teenage girls. (In my defense, I was also a teenage girl. At least I wasn’t a man in my 20s or 30s hatin’ on them. That’s fucking weird.) It’s still used today, but much less prevalent– and, if you ask the Old Heads, completely incorrectly. Mary Sues had, more or less, this sort of (highly subjective) criteria:
And nowadays there are a few nuanced takes, such as this one on the PPC Wiki (or, "that thing where you spork stuff I guess"; please, i don’t want to further go into this where are you taking me):
Mary Sue is shallow: she cares only about herself and achieving her own goals. She is uninteresting, because she has no real conflict. Neither is she well-crafted, but characterized almost exclusively by how she looks, or how much her past sucks, or how good she is with her skill of choice. Worst of all, she warps or shoves aside everything we love about the canon and its people in order to put herself forward. Mary Sue has no respect for the work into which she intrudes. “Mary Sue” at PPC Wiki
Now I’ve noticed it’s been thrown around as code for "this female character is too cool, and I’m jealous actually." Straight up misogyny (and when it applies, misogynoir). The most recent example of this particular type of "Canon Sue" is Rey from the Star Wars franchise. Which, as Lily Orchard pointed out, was ironic considering Rey’s characterization suffered and became a "Mary Sue" in order to appeal to the very same people complaining about her (source). Star Wars fans really hate themselves.
There was a website called "Mary Sue Dolls" where someone did those little pixelized representations of, well, people’s Mary Sue characters. I loved flipping through them and seeing how elaborate they could get. I haven’t been able to find an archive, but I faintly remember the last years of that domain. It was still up, but with an apology on the only page.
But yeah. Let fanfic writers have fun. Let girls have fun, ffs.
If you hate bad writing and characterization, just fucking say that.
If you still don’t know WTF I’m talking about, or just want to know more, Izzzyzzz‘s video is pretty succinct.
In college I was like "ew what is this vapid garageband bullshit." Fortunately, that pretentious shit only lasted a couple of months, if not days. Especially when I noticed Kelly’s songs were helping my then-girlfriend get through a tough time. If people love and take strength from something, could it really be that bad? Honestly, if you can create art with any tools at your disposal, it’s still freakin’ art.
Also, I was sold once I heard "Txt Msg Brkup." That was a banger.
I’m a little ashamed to admit this: when an actual Remake for Final Fantasy VII became reality– not a hoax or tech demo!– I was annoyed. Maybe even… livid. I took the announcement as a personal affront and cynical cash grab. You name it, I said it. I wasn’t happy that they were messing with my baby.
…Yes, it’s actually their baby, but I didn’t have to be happy about it, damn it!
And yet, I followed it’s development up to launch from the corner of my eye. I was still intrigued and curious. The more I read, the more I softened up the the reality of the thing, and eventually I made my peace with it. I wished I could have been more charitable from the start, regardless of what it’d become. The original will still be there for me to enjoy, after all.
Also, it brought us this:
So– what stuff did you hate, but ended up loving– or at the very least, tolerating? Leave a comment and I’ll eventually drag it out of the comment filters! :3
A ramble from my previous post about movies, exactly what it says on the tin! We were poor and didn’t have cable. And don’t fucking act like you wouldn’t pirate Disney movies nowadays.
Jokes aside, my dad was a huge fan of animation, and Disney was definitely up there. Middle fingers to The Establishment were secondary.
Maybe.
I feel like this entry is one of the most under-rated Disney movies, and to this day I am not sure how it just flew under everyone’s radar– it doesn’t seem to have cult classic vibes, either. It’s an absolutely beautiful film!
…oh it went up against Home Alone. Say no more.
Two words: Vincent Price. With his criminal brain. And definitely not a rat.
Gotcha! It’s a common mistake. Bluth did work for Disney for awhile, tho.
I like mermaids.
The music.
The music.
I’ll be honest, I loved this movie as a child. There was adventure! Kids were flying! Tiger Lily was my imaginary best friend! but when i got older OH SHIT THAT SHIT WAS RACIST
