Hello, it’s another Tuesday. It’s also the start of the Lunar New Year, and this one’s the year of the tiger, and tigers are cool, especially when they are out. Here, have some out tigers. 🐯
You’re doing better,
The safest you’ve been in months.
One conversation about your family’s insurance
And suddenly,
Out of nowhere,
It feels like your world is crashing down
All over again:
“You need to think about the long run.”
Okay.
“Fewer appointments.”
Doable.
“No hospitalization.”
What?
“Learn to manage it without meds and doctors.”
I…
“What?”
Can’t.
I think,
I’m fucked.
I pray,
God, why won’t it kill me already?
I nearly scream,
I CAN’T DO THE LONG RUN IF I DON’T GET TO IT!
And then…
No.
No.
Not again.
Not now.
It doesn’t have me yet.
It hasn’t won yet.
Maybe it will.
But not now.
Maybe it breaks my spirit,
But I’m the one fighting for me.
I still have stuff to do.
I’ll tell my own damn story.
The short run is good, too.
The other day I read Aja Romano’s article on Vox about Hamilton as fanfic. Then I read the response from Slate, and then I finally made myself read the New York Times article that Romano was responding to. I’d been avoiding it, I guess because I still feel such a shocked, delighted reaction to the show itself that I have been reluctant to wade into the criticism. But I finally read it, and it was just a handful of comments about historical accuracy. I’m actually amazed that such a brief fact-check has triggered such defensiveness. Not that I don’t understand the impulse! I feel defensive of the show too; I adore it and would like to preserve the impression I had when first leaving the theater that it was the best thing I had ever seen, a rare, genuinely life-changing work of art.
But you know, I just don’t get to live in that moment forever. A work doesn’t get to change your life if you just see it and let it be, if you hallow its memory and shush any doubt. A work can only change your life if it’s part of your life.
There’s a lot that I find deeply odd about the Vox piece in particular, enough that I’m going to stick it behind a Read More.
This moment breaks my heart, and feel free to delete my bullshit commentary if all you want is the gifset, but I just have to talk about this. Furiosa, who never balks from giving an order, who never speaks without intention and in fact asks permission before wasting her words on deaf ears, cannot bear to answer the Ace’s question. She can only look at him. She’s not being obtuse, a commander is only as good as her commands, and she knows clear communication is critical to keeping a group alive.
Ace knows it too. He leans in to clarify when she doesn’t answer his first guess: “Bullet Farm?” Furiosa would never make someone guess where they were going, it’s impractical and dangerous and stupid. Even worse than her silence, she opens her mouth to answer and then closes it again. She was a single breath away from telling him. She wants so badly to share her plan with her second-in-command: her throat is tight and you can see the shine of tears beginning in her eyes (far from the only time we see this sort of emotion from Furiosa).
Ace notices all of this too, and leans even further to check her expression because she refuses to face him. She knows he can read her, so only then does she answer, and she tells him a half-truth. “We’re heading East.” But that “we” doesn’t include Ace and Furiosa knows it, even as she flicks through every possible scenario one last time. In none of them can he come with them.
Ace looks ahead. With or without clarification or context, he’s there for the ride. He thinks he’s going with her.
Furiosa’s expression closes and she shifts gears. She’s already moving forward, and she’s already left him behind.
Can we talk about Miss Giddy for a minute? Yeah, Miss Giddy. The elderly woman who takes care of Angharad and Cheedo and Capable and Toast and the Dag. Can we talk about Miss Giddy telling them about what life was like in the Old Days? Can we talk about Miss Giddy with tiny script tattoos all over her body? Can we talk about Miss Giddy taking care of Angharad and Cheedo and Capable and Toast and the Dag and knowing what’s happening to them, what’s being done to them? Can we talk about Miss Giddy being aware of the wretchedness of the hypermasculine world they’re trapped in? Can we talk about Miss Giddy being complict in the escape plan–or, really, straight-up being an accomplice in the escape plan? Can we talk about how all that went down with her involved–gladly involved? Can we talk about fucking badass Miss Giddy standing there in that elegant prison with a double-barrel shotgun loaded and ready and totally knowing that eventually Joe’s gonna put it all together and burst in there in a rage? Can we talk about Miss Giddy knowing that she would have to face him down in that moment? Can we talk about Miss Giddy knowing that she would be the first to confront him after the escape? Can we talk about Miss Giddy being fully fucking ready to blow his head off with said shotgun because she’s got her own share of rage? Can we talk about her confronting him head on? Can we talk about Miss Giddy telling him to his face (relatively speaking) that “They are not your property!” Can we talk about how she put herself in danger so they could escape and stood up to the Big Bad with her shotgun and her sheer nerve and nearly got him? Can we talk about Miss Giddy? Can wE TALK ABOUT MISS GIDDY???
do you ever looked back at a friendship with someone from the internet and think to yourself, “i’m so glad i decided to befriend them because they make me so happy”
