in this house we love and respect yasha nydoorin

But, while Ratthi thanks it profusely for getting him a copy, he's at a loss for words on how to discuss the play itself.

To say the recording was "unwatchable" is a stretch, but there were... so many scenes where he couldn't see anyone's facial expressions bc SecUnit had decided that the most important thing happening on the stage at the moment were physiological cues and body language — a shot of a perspiring temple, nervous foot scraping, fingers twitching minutely in anger though draped seemingly in a relaxed posture next to the actor's thighs — details impossible for a human audience to appreciate from their seats, but clearly to SecUnit revealed motives, suggesting intentions, foreshadowing later developments.

In several places, the audio has clearly been choked, with a superimposed sound to indicate tension, as SecUnit zoomed in on these small details, indicating the physiological symptoms were more important to the story than what was being said out loud. Whole swaths of dialogue and monologue are lost to this treatment. There's a couple scenes where furniture is being dragged or pushed by actors for dramatic emphasis of their monologue except the camera is fixated exclusively on the furniture, not the actor — once, very memorably, zooming in impossibly close on the grain of a wood chair where it had long ago splintered slightly around the worn and discolored screw that had been driven into it during assembly.

There's even superimposed biometric data in some pivotal moments, showing the pulse rates, hydration levels, and body temperature of all participants on the stage. The reason this data was included in those particular scenes is not something that can be guessed from context. Not by a human, at least.

All in all, it's fascinating insight into the head of a construct, or... this particular construct, at least. And Ratthi recognizes that, values that, and has already scheduled a movie night with Bharadwaj for a rewatch. He's feeling pretty giddy about seeing the look on her face when she realizes what she's looking at. In fact, as a piece of art in and of itself, the film is making incredible innovations in storytelling. But the original play itself... Ratthi could barely follow what the hell was happening. What? Who? Why?

"Loved it, SecUnit. Love me some drama. I hope I get to go to the next one with you in person."

When Ratthi finally sees the same performance two months later (brought back to the stage for a couple nights by popular demand), he's straight up shocked by how, despite the ~similar outcome of the plot, the mood and tone are wildly different. SecUnit's arthouse, avant garde film had been a whole different genre from the play it had recorded, as well as several magnitudes more suspenseful and intricate in interplay.

On his way out, Ratthi runs into Bharadwaj, who he hadn't known was also in the audience that night. They just... stare... at each other. Both can read the thought clearly in the other's eyes:

ALSO: I just showed this post to my roommate, who is an MD at a clinic that specializes in care for the LGBT community in the Baltimore area. I asked her  whether hormones were responsible for the difference in the “male/female” symptom arrays. I asked how that would apply to her trans patients (which, she treats a LOT of trans patients). She said, basically, that the longer you’ve taken testosterone the more likely you are to get the intense chest pressure and the arm pain, versus the upper back pressure and shortness of breath.

hunting down this post to find that OP turned of reblogs has me heartbroken.

They urgently, URGENTLY need your donation.

A reblog that’s all it really takes. There are campaigns on here with tens of thousands of notes how do you think they got there?

By everyone scrolling past? Complain about morality OCD and compassion burnout all you want. My friend Ghada's family survived the bombing, but they are not safe.

Even after the so-called ceasefire, their lives are still hanging by a thread. At any moment I am not speaking to Ghada, it is possible that she has no food, no shelter, no safety this is what “after the war” looks like in Gaza.

Think about living with ruins instead of homes, fear instead of stability, and the echo of everything they lost. There’s no “getting used to” that as your constant reality.

So when I ask you to reblog this post, think about the lack of effort it would take to flick your thumb and realize it could still be saving the lives of 14 people, affected by destruction and trauma far beyond what you could possibly imagine on your own.