LookAtTheStargazer

Marks and Rec: Misc #1577

(Dialogue is just something I made up, although the joke’s certainly been made before, lol.) (Bonus:)

Having Katniss– the symbol of The Common Person at the bottom of the societal hierarchy who most heavily bears the brunt of oppression– be stiff and awful at scripted propos but a fucking goddess at unscripted, passionately angry speeches and stoking reflection and resistance and rebellion was very deliberate. It is a call to be genuine, to question media narratives and seek facts, to take a long, hard, honest look beyond the sparkling lights and glamor projected by the media to really see and take the downtrodden seriously before their collective patience wears thin enough to snap and they bring out the bombs. Or guillotines, if you want to look at IRL history.

One of my favorite scenes in the series is in Catching Fire: the interviews with the Victors being forced to take part in the Quarter Quell. Especially with the visuals of the movie. The entire thing builds up to when Peeta “drops the baby bomb” and the audience breaks into dismayed/horrified pandemonium and there are calls by the privileged to stop the injustice; it is an escalating series of oppressed, re-victimized individuals turning their glamorized re-victimization into a platform to scream their humanity at the citizens of the Capitol until it seems to finally start seeping in. Stanley Tucci play’s Caesar Flickerman’s growing discomfort perfectly; IIRC, his calling for the lights and cameras to be cut when the Victors show unity is to use the gesture of slitting a throat. It’s a common gesture, but in this case it has a greater weight: “Cut this, kill it, don’t let people see it, these people we’ve set up to hate each other joining hands in united defiance is dangerous.”

That also veers off into an extended lesson in “the powers that be seek to divide you and turn you against each other to keep you weak.” In modern terms, you can see it in such things as “wow why should burger-flippers get raises to earn more than the legit heroes who fight crime and save lives and defend our country?” to turn those groups against each other on the basis of accepted social hierarchy instead of talking together and coming to a consensus of, “You know, we’re ALL getting screwed and should ALL make more money; let’s work together to achieve that.”

It is highly relevant to this period of civilization. It resonates with the masses. That resonance is amorphous; allowing it to gel into something more solid could erode media/propagandist influence. Thus, whether conscious or just the nature of the beast,

“LOOK AT THE LOVE TRIANGLE! ROMANCE! FOCUS ON THE ROMANCE! ISN’T IT ROMANTIC?! THINKING ABOUT THE DEEPER STUFF IS UNCOMFORTABLE, SO LOOK AT THE BEAUTIFUL WOMAN AND HANDSOME MEN AND CHOOSE A SIDE AND FIGHT FOR IT! R-O-M-A-N-C-E-!”

In other words, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!”

In other words, “Let’s play up the circus part of panem et circenses.”

Well, too bad! Here it is!

They’re called Toe Jams!

Made to fit even your biggest bunioned foot! Or comfortably nest your most crooked of toes! That’s because these bad boys are made to order and customizable for all sizes and all ages!

Super cozy. Super fluffy. Cute AF. And made by hand by us!

Anyway, the running gag was that the king (an old Power Rangers knock-off doll) had absolute and unwavering faith in Evil Chancellor Traytor, who basically comported himself like a mix between Grima Wormtongue and Jafar from the Aladdin movies. Everyone was always sure that Evil Chancellor Traytor had something to do with the nefarious scheme of the day. The dude even carried around a poisoned knife called ‘the kingslayer’.

The additional twist on the joke, though, was that he never was behind anything. The king was actually right. Evil Chancellor Traytor was the most devoted civil servant in the entire Action Figure Dystopia. He spent his nights working on writing up new legislature to ensure that broken toys had access to mobility devices, was always on the lookout to acquire new shoeboxes for expanding city infrastructure, and drafted a proposal that once got half the ‘settlement’ in my sister and I’s closet moved to the upper shelf so that vulnerable toys were less likely to be snatched up by the dog.

The knife, as it turned out, was as symbolic as the ‘evil’ in his name. See, Action Figure Dystopia had a long history of corrupted monarchs getting too big for their thrones and exploiting the underclasses. The job of the Evil Chancellor was to always remain vigilant, and loyally serve a good ruler - or, if the regent should became a despot, to slay them on behalf of the people.

But since killing the king would be a terrible crime, the Evil Chancellor had to be the kind of person who would willingly die to spare the people from the plight of a wicked leader; because the murder would be pinned on them, in order to keep the ‘machinery of politics’ working as smoothly as ever.

Anyway, Evil Chancellor Traytor had a diary, in which my sister I would take turns writing out the most over-the-top good shit he’d done behind the scenes. Usually after everyone else had finished talking shit about him. I don’t know why but we got the biggest kick out of being like:

Barbie With the Unfortunate Haircut: Oh that Evil Chancellor Traytor! Why can’t the king see how wicked he is?!

Charmander From the Vending Machine: Char!

Jurassic Park Toy of Jeff Goldblum With Disturbingly Realistic Face: At least if someone puts a knife in the king’s back, we’ll know where to look!

Evil Chancellor Traytor’s Diary: Today I was feeding ducks at the park when I noticed another legless action figure sitting by the benches. I put a hundred dollars into his bag while he wasn’t looking. I really need to increase budgeting to the medical treatment centers. If only we had enough glue, I think we would see far fewer toys trying to get by without limbs… *insert iconic evil laugh*

Anyway, Evil Chancellor Traytor eventually fell victim to one of my mom’s cleaning sprees, and she decided he was too busted up to keep and tossed him out. My littler brother, who tended to follow my sister and I’s games like he was watching a daily soap opera, cried so hard that we had to do a special ‘episode’ where one of the toys found the Evil Chancellor’s diary, and so he got a big huge memorial and the king threw himself into the empty grave and then ordered the toys driving the toy bulldozer to bury him so that ‘Traytor’s grave would have a body’ (this seemed very important for some reason).