Reblog. Procrastinate. Reblog again.

Uncontacted Indigenous peoples reject contact with outsiders, as an active and ongoing choice. Survival International has calculated that there are 196 uncontacted groups worldwide; some of these are entire peoples who are uncontacted – such as the Sentinelese in India. Some uncontacted groups – such as the Ayoreo Totobiegosode in the Paraguayan Chaco or the Amahuaca in Peru – are sub-groups of bigger tribes with whom they share a language and often a territory. All are aware of the outside world, and reject it. They are self-sufficient and resilient. They live independently in forests, sometimes on islands. They resist intrusion, and thrive when their rights are respected. Uncontacted peoples may encounter outsiders sporadically, or not at all. They are aware of neighboring Indigenous peoples, who may be closely or distantly related. The uncontacted Hongana Manyawa in Indonesia have family members who have left the forest, mostly under duress. The uncontacted Pirititi occasionally encounter their contacted Kinja neighbors in the Brazilian Amazon. The Massaco, also in Brazil, were for decades known only by traces in the forest, including booby traps sharpened with rodents' teeth and placed on their hunting trails to warn off outsiders. Uncontacted peoples’ rejection of contact is often rooted in memories of devastating past contact and invasion, which brought violence, epidemics and death. Their denial of contact is a clear expression of their autonomy and self-determination.

If a UK Prime Minister candidate is referring specifically to England then yes of course it is.

OKAY i'm fucking sick of people who can't read leaving these comments so here we go, we're gonna read Barthes together. hold my hand

Barthes' 1967 essay The Death of the Author (La mort de l'auteur) loosely takes the form of a literary history: he relates the changing attitudes of criticism towards the text and of literature towards criticism down to his day. He is interested in what writing is, and thus, what a book is: "a tissue of signs," which the critic claims to be able to interpret. But Barthes argues that once the necessity of connecting the author to the book is removed, the critic has no work to do: "Once the Author is gone, the claim to 'decipher' a text becomes quite useless." This is a rejection of both the supremacy of the critic and the intentions of the author.

When Barthes says "critic," he doesn't mean "anyone who has encountered the text," however. He differentiates the critic from the "reader":

the reader is the very space in which are inscribed, without any being lost, all the citations a writing consists of; the unity of a text is not in its origin, it is in its destination.

For Barthes, the reader's understanding of the text is supreme because it weaves together the "tissue of signs" into a coherent whole, producing a singular interpretation. He concludes by advocating for the overthrow of the critical establishment in favor of individual interpretation: "to restore to writing its future, we must reverse its myth: the birth of the reader must be ransomed by the death of the Author." In other words, in order for us to allow readers their own experiences, we must stop prioritizing the critic -- not the reader, but the critic -- and instead allow the reader to engage the text.

We're gonna un-Barthes Barthes now, okay? Stay with me. Here's the context:

Barthes was responding to a stifling and rigid environment in which criticism was the sole province of the academic expert. As part of the deconstructionist wave, he wanted to upend the traditional hierarchy that dictated how a text should be understood and what it was for, instead prioritizing language and reaction.

He got his wish. We live in a world of reaction.

Gone is the tyranny of the formal critic; gone even is the formal literary education of the reader. Our "tissue of signs" is no longer the text, but an infinite mirrored hall of reactions to reactions to reactions in which the text diminishes into a vanishing point, as the Author once did on Barthes' literary stage.

We do not need to resist the tyranny of the academy. The academy has been destroyed. Adjunctification, the widespread corporatization of universities, the resulting devaluation of college degrees, the devastation of humanities departments in widespread shutdowns, and now the revocation of billions of dollars of government funding have left the academy on its knees. Public trust in academic expertise has declined so sharply that people on this very hellsite will tell you that if someone has an advanced degree in a specific field, that actually makes them less trustworthy.

And in Ozymandias' place, we have the reader.

The reader consumes a variety of "content" and regurgitates its reactions in a variety of "posts." It transmutes text into more text which further readers wriggle eagerly through, refining what might have had meaning into a rarefied fertilizer of emotion and echo. What it leaves behind becomes the literary history for new strata of reactions, nostalgia, and imitation.

This is the audience: an ouroboros of interpretation, a rat king of readership. It has no end but itself. Ultimately, it needs no text to function. In this world, the truly radical act is to disentangle yourself from the other worms and rebuild the edifice of meaning. This may require you to do such tasks as "read the actual book," but because we no longer have the support -- however oppressive -- of literary criticism to inform our reading, we must also learn how to read, explore the historical context on our own, and recover both the facts and the symbols from which the text is woven.

That is what death of the audience means: not a rejection of the critic in favor of language, but a rejection of endless language and infinite readers in favor of fact, history, and skill.

It's a pun, by the way: "La mort de l'auteur," spoken aloud, recalls Le Morte d'Arthur, a 15th-century collection of Arthurian legend which marked the turn away from the Middle Ages and into a nostalgic Early Modern period which valorized them. The Author becomes the mythic King; as myth, he can be severed from fact and dismissed.

Fact has now itself become the myth.

i don't care if you think you're agreeing with me, you're being a doomer and encouraging people to do nothing and to just despair because they can't personally eliminate fossil fuel corporations from existence in the space of a day, that's NOT USEFUL

i am talking about building community + natural resilience in the face of climate change. yes that needs to go hand in hand with the broader legislative and global changes to avert it. but I'm talking about how do we deal with it now. how do we survive long enough to do that. how do we build our towns and cities in ways that can endure.

For example: Beowulf does not follow the hero's journey. I have a pet theory that Beowulf is three or four stories that kind of got mashed together since it's a collection of a couple vignettes about this warrior's life and the dragon episode is rather disconnected from Grendel (unless you're John Gardner, who ties it all together in his novel Grendel). Beowulf emerges as a full-blown hero when he enters the narrative, does not have a mentor, does not refuse the call (and rather wholeheartedly embraces it in fact - "Not only am I gonna slay your monster, I'm gonna slay your monster with my ass hanging out to show off"), does not live in the normal world at any point. One could argue he returns with the elixir to his home, given that the later story has him as a king, but the story's not interested in explaining much about how that happened and keeps going after the hero's journey would claim it should end, instead jumping to Beowulf's noble sacrificial death. You really have to squeeze to fit Beowulf into that framework, and by the point where it does, you've lost all semblance of a common structure the monomyth claims to represent. Arguably, the Iliad doesn't it either, given the scope of the story is a lot smaller than some people seem to believe.

Like I get the point that the original post was making about the western canon being so heavy with authors from the US and western Europe and not caring much about works from cultures beyond that, but I feel it's worth noting that even if you grade Campbell's ideas on the most generous possible curve, they don't hold up.

And even if we pretend they did, he never intended them as a writing guide. They were only popularized as one when George Lucas took that structure and adapted it to Star Wars.

Like people make fun of middle aged women for not getting married or being divorced or "always the bridesmaid never the bride" and all like "oh she's desperate! No one wants her! Old maid!' but they become straight up hostile and upset when you tell them you never want to date.

The core wound of this demographic is being rejected and being relentlessly asked to stop your bullshit relative to romance and sex, and to get back in the ranks. The aroace definitely qualify.

And since being rejected is obviously a veeeeery common trauma in the queer community, and people tend to reenact unhealed patterns, it's not rare to see queer people rejecting other queer people with shit like biphobia, being picky with who "qualify" as trans, dismissing aroaces etc...

"Wealth inequality Zucks'