Lorian | They/Them | 23 | books, comics, anime, and occasionally a podcast or drama | I swear to maintain 0 constistency about what i post. once every 2000 years i may drop some art but if i do it will be very pretty.
Public transit be like your bus is due …..now! ……..now! …..any second now…….okay now! Just kidding uhh…………..now! Okay itll be 17 minutes ☺️ hope that helps. Aw shit we sent the invisible bus again
image ID: text reads “At some point in life the world’s beauty becomes enough. You don’t need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough. No record of it needs to be kept and you don’t need someone to share it with or tell it to. When that happens – that letting go – you let go because you can. The world will always be there – while you sleep it will be there – when you wake it will be there as well. So you can sleep and there is reason to wake. A dead hydrangea is as intricate and lovely as one in bloom. Bleak sky is as seductive as sunshine, miniature orange trees without blossom or fruit are not defective, they are that. So the windows of the greenhouse can be opened and the weather let in. The latch on the door can be left unhooked, the muslin removed, for the soldier ants are beautiful too and whatever they do will be part of it.”
Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.
Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.
Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.
You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.
As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.
Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.
This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.
A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.
also according to michael collins when the three of them were discussing what neil armstrong should say when he first stepped on the moon, collins suggested armstrong say “Oh, my God, what is that thing?” and then scream and cut out his mic.
Everyone forgets Michael Collins and it’s fucking tragic.
The Flower That Bloomed Nowhereis a currently updating webserial by author Lurina. It’s one of my favorite things I’ve read in a long while and I’d like to convince you all to give it a chance.
My elevator pitch is this: A time-loop murder mystery directly inspired by Umineko, with a lot of similar vibes to the Locked Tomb Trilogy - partially due to it’s meditations on grief and mortality and partially due to it’s far-future magical sci-fi world where we follow a fucked up lesbian necromancer on a task she is determined to see through to the end. A deeply complex, unique, and believable world that plays hosts to one of the best interpersonal dynamics I’ve read.
In a future so far-flung that it is past the heat death of the universe, humanity has constructed a new society that is post-scarcity but not post-stratification. Utsushikome of Fusai is one amongst a class of prodigious young medical arcanists (essentially grad students) who are invited to visit a recently legitimized conclave of top-of-the-line researchers studying immortality. Accompanying Su is her best friend Ran, a fellow arcanist. Over the course of the novel we begin to slowly unravel exactly what ulterior motives have brought them to this conclave and how events in their childhoods and years of working toward their shared goal has warped their relationship into what we now see. This relationship is the crown jewel of Flower’s narrative, and getting to peel back the layers of it as you read is a delight.
Like Umineko, Flower is a murder mystery that prevents itself with in-universe Rules that dictate the murders’ parameters, meaning there’s a lot to chew on for anyone who likes solving mysteries. For those that don’t, like myself, Flower offers instead a richly developed world and plenty of open questions about the sociopolitical and metaphysical implications of its own worldbuilding.
Below the cut, I’ll go into more detail about the series (without spoilers!) for those of you whose interest has been piqued.
larry almost gets kicked out of phoenix and edgeworth’s wedding (he was in fact invited) because hes drunkenly going around telling everyone that the only reason they’re together is because of him (technically true) and edgeworth is so mad that he keeps bringing it up that hes two seconds away from throwing him out. and phoenix has to be like listen we cant ban him from the wedding for just saying actual real things that he did. and edgeworth is like hes gotten into my head talking about how hes ‘pretty much part of this relationship’ im worried hes going to pop up in my brain when im having sex with you tonight i need him GONE. and then phoenix gets really mad at edgeworth because him saying that means larry is almost Guaranteed to pop into phoenix’s head when they’re trying to have sex later.
i cannot stress this enough: if your reasoning for clowning on the mcu is “they overwork their cg artists and animators” i 1000% guarantee that a show or movie you have been stanning for years also abused their artists and you just haven’t heard about it because the production companies aren’t in the spotlight like mcu productions are. that cartoon for kids? that incredibly animated movie? that non-marvel superhero movie? i’ve seen people declare their hatred for the way the mcu treats their workers and then turn around and gush about a show that i know for a fact was hell for the artists attached
and no this is NOT me saying “this means you should stop hating on the mcu uwu” it’s me saying you gotta be aware that this shit is an INDUSTRY WIDE PROBLEM. you CANNOT “fix” it by refusing to watch mcu movies and feeling good about it. you have to be aware that it’s EVERYWHERE. why do you think so many animation and vfx productions are sourced in canada? in india and the phillipines? we are not unionized.
i know it’s hard to face the idea that your favourite show might have been made unethically especially when you’ve spent so much time hating the mcu for doing the same thing. you don’t have to start hating your favourite show. just like…be aware. don’t be smarmy about it. don’t claim without research that a beautifully animated movie Must mean the animators were not working 16 hour days and weekends. i do think we can fix this 👍 but we can’t fix it if 90% of us don’t even realize what the problem really is
now that it’s come out that the spiderverse animators were working unsustainable hours yall need to be aware of this more than ever. even good movies aren’t innocent of this. we often see the narrative of “see what happens if you pay animators well and give them time to work?” when it comes to good movies but. that is almost never the case. the artists are still being worked to the bone. the movie being good does not negate this.
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