Monsters, Bubbles, and White Supremacy in Dot and Bubble
Let's make sure we're all on the same page. Dot and Bubble is a story about how white supremacist (techno) echo chambers doom their participants by obscuring the horrors of the world and showering white people with blissful ignorance.
Ok. Now onto some thoughts...
One of the biggest things that falls flat for me in this episode is the characterization of the man eating monster slugs. In universe, these slugs were created by the AI that runs the influencer echo chamber because all the white supremacists are "so annoying." The character's horror with respect to the monsters is "what are you?"
But this not quite how white supremacy works. The horrors of the world under white supremacy are those created ACTIVELY by it, not by accident. To view a world destroying power (Homeworld population 0) that is being ignored/obscured as an "oopsie", an unfortunate side effect of tech created for pleasure, absolves the white supremacist characters in the destruction of their world. It makes them victims instead of perpetrators.
A more accurate characterization would have placed the monsters as known entities that were created and used by the system to actively uphold white supremacy. The horror, then, for the characters switches from "what are you" to "you're not supposed to be doing this to US."
If instead the monsters were entities that had be used in creating this town, "cleansing" it, policing its borders, and yes, eating "undesirable" people to do so, the metaphor becomes more apt. Now, the bubble is a tool designed to shield the white privileged from the horrors required to maintain their "utopia," to mask the actual ongoings of the world. The dot doesn't register them because it's by ACTIVE design for maintenance of the world. The characters' lack of wanting to lower the bubble then signifies a WILLFUL engagement in the white supremacist system, a purposeful choice to shield that which one does not wish to know. The ignoring of disappearances becomes part of the practice of system maintenance.
Because THIS is ultimately how white supremacy functions. The tools it creates to maintain power actively destroy the world and, eventually, will eat its architects alive as well.
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I love it when the same actors appear together in multiple shows. Like in Buffy, one of you is a vampire with a soul intent on fighting evil in an attempt to atone for your own past evil and the other is the semi-immortal town mayor trying to ascend to pure demon form. But in Bones, they're an FBI agent and LA plastic surgeon. And that in itself is funny. But what's funnier to me is that there are actually some valid character comparisons to be made, here.
Dark times all around but there are still people out there who love you
Do not hurt yourself, do not hurt others, get help, talk to someone, anyone. Humanity has survived before and we can do it now if we all just support each other. My country and my people let me down and endangered my life but thereās nothing I or anyone else can do about that so letās try to spread the love that is so clearly lacking.
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Scenes from Hawaii: On the islands of Oāahu and Hawaiāi
July 6 - 18, 2016
A few weeks ago, five friends from college and I all met up in Hawaii for a reunion/vacation ā it was the first time Iād seen most of them in almost two years. It would take a book to detail everything that transpired. And even these pictures donāt do it justice, (I think) theyāre still pretty darn awesome.
Hi Thomas. I was just wondering, how do you feel when people say "All Lives Matter"?
I think itās a movement that derails and draws attention away from the actual everyday threat and struggle that black people have had to endure, the whole reason #BlackLivesMatter was created in the first place. There was no #AllLivesMatter before that hashtag, so it was inherently created in order to divert away from the struggle that the original movement was created to address. If All Lives Mattered, the people proclaiming this would be heart-broken by the atrocities undergone by black people, and would do everything in their power to make those tragedies stop. Address that issue and PROVE that you believe all lives matter.
I regret taking so long to upload this post, but I needed some time to digest all that has happened, all the changes my life has been going through. So without further adieu, I think Iām finally ready to post my last post regarding my life in Germany.
I think the last time we left off, I had just posted pictures of my trip to Munich with my roommate, and hopefully life-long friend, Alina. That was a little over a month before I left. The rest of April was mostly consumed by tying up loose ends - finishing the revisions on our paper, hurrying to finish collecting data for my independent project, beginning to pack and clean and close allĀ āoff-shoreā accounts. So letās skip to the fun parts.
The Germans have a not-so-secret reputation of being punctual. Living in Germany, though, one will see that this is a completely false stereotype. Everything, from meetings to trains, begin and/or run late. However, when it comes to festivals, I have discovered the country to be annoyingly early. Take Oktoberfest: it begins in September. Similarly, the small Bochum celebration of Maiabendfest (Mai = the month of May) begins (or is sometimes entirely) in April. Because I figured this out too late last year, I made sure to catch it this year, despite the rainy weather.
Legend says, back in medieval times, the Dortmunders (residents of a neighboring town) stole the Bochumerās livestock, specifically cows. Despite the fact that the residents wanted to declare war for this thievery, the baron or lord or whoever encouraged the Bochum townspeople to resolve the issue without bloodshed. Feigning an attack, the Bochumers whistled, causing the Dortmund farmers to abandon their farms, and their newly acquired livestock, and allowing the Bochum farmers to reclaim their property. As a reward, the baron or lord or whowever of Bochum allowed the townspeople to chop down a tree from his estate, carry it into town, and feast.
In an effort to celebrate this probably fabricated tale, the festival includes a street fair, half of which is a Mittelaltermarkt (medieval market), along with a military parade of local Bochumers dressed in the town colors of blue and white. The festival song includes a strong whistle representing the whistle the Bochumers used to trick the Dortmunders.
The next day I decided to trade sides in the aforementioned conflict, scoring tickets to a BVB Dortmund soccer match through Alinaās die-hard fan of a boyfriend. Adorned in borrowed yellow and black paraphernalia, Alina and I traveled with Basti, his father, and a friend of the family to the game, tailgating behind a horse stable to eat bratwurst and drink Pils.
Sitting in Bastiās family tickets on the West side of the Westfalenstadion, we had seats on the 35-ish yard line, if the soccer stadium were a football one.
The whole crowd was pumped, singing the BVB fight song,Ā āYouāll Never Walk Aloneā at full blast (yes Iām serious). But the true fans were along the SĆ¼dtribune, the side to the right in the picture below. These seats are not seats at all, but an entire side ofĀ āstanding-room-only.ā They lead all the chanting and cheering, and were very unforgiving of one player leaving Dortmund to play for the teamās rival, Bayern Munich. In soccer, whistling is basically booing, so every time this player got the ball, they would whistle. Soon enough, the counter-clappers attempted to and eventually succeeded in drowning out the whistles.
In the end, with my beer, brat, and FuĆball, it was a day to remember -- especially because it was nice to root for a winning team for the first time in a long time (#thecurseofajetsandmetsfan)!
My final full week in Germany was filled with special treats that would not normally occur during the workweek. Monday, my roommate and I literally ate our weight in (and 100ā¬ worth of) sushi while watching the first two episodes of season 6 of Game of Thrones. Tuesday, the whole Haghikia lab (with the main bossman included!) had one final hurrah at a local tapas restaurant, Una Mas. Thursday, my roommate and I treated ourselves to a pricey dinner at one of the top Italian restaurants in the area (and maybe all of Germany) - Momo. After I had done a significant editing job on a grant for Dr. Gold, he presented me with a thank you in the form of a gift certificate for this restaurant. We figured it was about time we cashed it in.Ā
That weekend began being my last in Germany, I figured to go out in style and throw an American-themed goodbye party at our apartment. Such included homemade pizza, beer, and, of course, red cups and ping pong balls. Apparently the Solo cup phenomenon is very American...who knew?
The main events of the night were me teaching American drinking games: beer pong, flip-cup, bouncy ball/vortex/slap cup, and kings. After careful observation, Iāve concluded that young Germans enjoy high-energy group games. They are very competitive.
The next day, summer finally came to Germany, so my roommates and I headed down to the banks of the Ruhr river for a cookout. We spent the day lounging in the weak sun and grilling down by the train tracks.
The day ended with a trip to a local ice cream parlor for a German delicacy I was told I mustĀ experience before my departure. The first time I had encounteredĀ āSpaghettieisā was in August 2014. A friend decided to try some and ended up emptying the contents of her stomach into miscellaneous garbage pails around the town the rest of the day. I have since shied away from the dish. But I was persuaded to at least try a childās portion, and it was actually quite delicious! Gelato in the shape of spaghetti with strawberry sauce (marinara) and shaved white chocolate (parmesan), because why not?
My final days in Germany were a blur. Even now Iām having trouble teasing apart the days. But Iāll make it happen.
MondayĀ was a day that I was reminded why I donāt lie. Alina and I went on a wild goose chase looking for a place to engrave the powder shaker Iād bought as a goodbye present for Dr. Gold (the man has to have his daily waffle), so we decided to reward ourselves with a sushi lunch. I texted the rest of the lab to go eat without me, that Alina and I had gotten lost (true) and were going to eat lunch (true) consisting of Brƶtchen (false...we didnāt want to confess to being tooĀ extravagant). Well, they waited for me anyway because they knew Iād wanted to go to lunch for one final time at my favorite pizza place in the Uni-Center... So I had two lunches.
Tuesday,Ā we had a lab-wide barbecue for what I thought was our lab organizerās birthday, but I learned later that I was also a person of honor at the party. The lab (read - Alina thought of and organized, lab members provided the ā¬ā¬ā¬) presented me with a cute card, legit RUB sweatshirt, and RUB beach towel for Hawaii. Christina herself gave me some tropical alcohol and a beautifully heartfelt card to thank me for my mentorship. I cried a lot that day.
WednesdayĀ also involved crying, but this time due to German bureaucracy. Long story short, the de-registration office was closed (with no notice other than a posted sheet of paper on the door, of course), and I had no appointment at the busy center town one. So I kind of just burst in, readied myself for a long German speech, and instead cried/whined out a high-pitched plea. It got the job done. And as it was my last night, the roomies and I had my labmates over for pizza. My lab group members gave me a joke release date placard for my next musical album, a running joke Hannes and I had when we said things that sounded song titles. Thank goodness I was all cried out.
ThursdayĀ was flight day, and Alina and Claas were nice enough to drive me to the airport. We hung out before security (because DUS has literally no lines), and they presented me with a WG (German forĀ āshared apartmentā) photo album, documenting our time together and, most importantly, the cats. Cue more waterworks. Our group hug before my entry into the terminal was probably the most heartbreaking thing Iāve felt because, this time, unlike many other goodbyes Iāve endured, I left for good, with no plans (but every intent) to return.
I guess I ought to end with some revelation, something I learned in Germany that opened my eyes more fully. But at the moment, I canāt tell you precisely how Iāve changed, but I know I have. What I can say is that I just feel so much love. Love for a country that isnāt mine. Love for people who are frightfully far from where I am and where Iām going. And also grateful. Grateful for the opportunity to have experienced another culture so fully; grateful to the lab for welcoming me with open arms, to the Germans who helped me along the way, and to all the people who helped me get there.
And thank you, readers (assuming I have any after this monstrous post), for taking the journey with me.
According to polling data from YouGov, 75% of 18- to 24-year-olds voted to remain in the European Union. On Friday, the UK voted to leave, with 52% of the overall vote.
How does it feel to be one of that 75%? How does it feel to be 16/17 and want the EU to remain? Weāre collecting their stories on tumblr at @the75percent.
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In the current climate, itās easy to surpass shock and denial. Itās not difficult to comprehend what has happened or acknowledge it, because it has happened so many times before. The brain is adaptable like that.
But here is where Iām stuck. Iām angry, and Iām looking at a place to direct it.
I am not alone in this emotion. Iāve seen anger in response to this tragedy - online, in person, over text, and in through phone calls. And like me, people need a person, a group, a place to localize that anger. I think it helps people heal by feeling productive, by havingĀ āfigured it out.ā
But there is an anger that I cannot accept. I have seen so many people that I know and that I donāt, become angry with President Barack Obama and Presumptive Democratic Nominee Hilary Clinton. These people are angry for themĀ ānot naming the true cause - radical Islam.ā
ButĀ āradical Islamā has become a scapegoat, become a way for Americans to release themselves of their sins and the role theyāve played in these actions. Because though the attacker in question did indeed call 911 to declare his allegiance to ISIS, these people are forgetting one thing: his allegiance to ISIS was new, his bigotry was not.Ā
This man was a professed homophobe and probable racist: he attacked a gay night club, frequented mainly by people of color, on Latin night. This man was a violent abuser: his ex-wife had to be rescued from his abuse. He may have been, as some have put it,Ā āinspiredā by ISIS, but what the right fail to realize is that he was not made by them. No, he was made by us.
He was grown right here, in the country that fought (and in some places, is still fighting) tooth and nail, until recently, to deny the right of marriage between two consenting adults based on their sexuality. He was grown here, in the country that has never shown any regard for the thousands of lives lost due to hate crimes against the LGBT community, especially the QPOC community. He was grown here, in the country where job discrimination based on sexuality and/or gender presentation is still legal in a majority of states. He was grown here, in a country that passes ridiculous bathroom laws leading to increasedĀ harassment of people in the bathroom.
When we pin these actions onĀ āradical Islam,ā we forget that, the same day, a parolee was foiled in his seemingly planned, armed attack on the LA Pride Parade. This is about discrimination and violence against the LGBTQIA community. When we pin these actions onĀ āradical Islam,ā we forget that, just a few hours earlier in the same city, a young star was shot. This is about lack of gun control. When we pin these actions onĀ āradical Islam,ā we circumvent the roll we play in the tragic events.
We forget how homophobia, racism, sexism, ableism, and so much more have become the norm in our country. We forget how the people we voted for shot down a bill aimed at preventing suspected terrorists, like the Pulse Orlando Shooter, who are already on the no-fly list, from purchasing firearms.
Oh how easy it is to place blame on the scary brown others whoās only goal, as reported to us, is to bring an end to our way of life.
But our way of live is already under attack, and itās time we look within.
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Today is the first day of Asian Pacific American Heritage Month. Hollywood has been preparing for this month by announcing film after film after film with white people playing Asians. To that end, ā¦
Iām taking a stand against Hollywood and being #WhitewashedOUT!Ā
So a friend just texted me that he saw this video on a flight, featuring that #distractinglysexy tweet from the past summer (begin watching from ~1:15). My favorite part is how they switch to put me in front.
