just panic

Episode 1: Pilot

“Ladies first! … No, wait why would I say that?” Why would I respect women? Why should I? Because I’m WEAK? Because I’m a GIRL?

What’s a Greek tragedy without some ominous foreshadowing? — “You’ll never know until it’s too late.”

Episode 2: Candy Carrier Chaos!

Complaining loudly at the conclusion of the pink & frilly candy adventure. Saying you really wish there was more death & violence… almost like someone who got the girl’s toy at McDonalds and wants to make it KNOWN that they do not want it. Almost like the lady doth protest too much.

“Aren’t you supposed to be submissive and agreeable?” The internalised misogyny, we can come by it honest living in this messed-up world and we can also use it as a tool, to make femininity feel like an undesirable option. Something we could never want for ourselves.

Episode 3: The Mystery of Mildenhall Manor

“I can’t hold it any longer.” “Sure you can! We can’t die of oxygen deprivation, remember?” If it won’t LITERALLY kill you, then you can take it. Just hold it in. Just suffer. What, are you weak? 

Ghostly presents the players with two doors to choose from: the “normal” door and the “really scary” door. (A door associated with Zooble, even. Gee I wonder what else one might associate with them?) Let’s cut this off right here and instantly slurp the ghost into the vacuum cleaner, almost like that’s an uncomfortable choice we’re not willing to confront.

“The worst thing you can do in this world is make someone feel like they’re unwanted or unloved.” You can certainly do this to others. Under the wrong circumstances, you can even do it to yourself.

Episode 4: Fast Food Masquerade

A light episode for this lens, but let’s explore how we feel about Gangle. Jax uses her as a coping mechanism. Putting Gangle in her place feels like putting the inner femininity in her place. It’s reassuring. The masculine Jax is always the one in control.

You’re wasting your time, Ragatha. She throws like a girl. She’s hopeless.

Which makes Gangle, the authority figure, something uncomfortable. Something wrong. Something we can’t even pretend to go along with.

In the reeducation room, there’s no denying who’s calling the shots. Jax gets uncharacteristically scared. “Wait, uh… wait, um nobody can see this, right?” Nobody can see me losing control, right? Nobody can see me getting beat by a GIRL… right?

Ragatha, down on the floor: “Heeeey Jax. I hate you? But I don’t want you to hate me. Is that weird?” This is too real to even acknowledge with an insult or a kick. Talking about how we really feel can’t be addressed at all. “You’re drunk or something” and we step right over her and walk away.

Episode 5: Untitled

Where to even START with this one! Definitely the episode that cemented the trans reading of this character for me.

The Jax adventure suggestions all fit neatly into the toxic coping mechanism of “be as cartoonishly easy-to-hate as possible so no one gets close.” Literally play the part of a poacher. A terrorist. Keep everyone at arm’s length so they can hate you for these performances, and never have the chance to hate you for something real.

Let’s also acknowledge how masculine-coded these villains are. And how hard Jax bristles against spending an adventure being vegan, even though none of the suggestions are food-centric. It’s not about the actual lack of egg whites in the whiskey sour, is it? It’s about being forced into something femme-coded and associated with empathy, for everyone to see.

That nagging worry about Caine being able to get in their heads… worried about what he might find? What he might reveal?

Pomni can nominally be in a position of power, as long as she doesn’t really know what’s going on. As long as Jax is the one holding all the cards, the one in control the whole time.

“Do you think Gangle is actually capable of being happy? […] Her comedy mask still breaks everyday — does she think hanging out with Zooble [🏳️‍⚧️] is going to magically fix that?” Do you think I’m capable of being happy? That maybe I could be happy, if… no yeah, never mind. 

“I didn’t think you cared about what other people liked.” Oh Pomni… oh Pomni, Jax cares so very much.

“When you tell someone they’re loved and appreciated every day it just… kind of loses all meaning.” Or does it not mean anything at all if the “you” being loved and appreciated isn’t the real you? If you don’t think the real you is worthy of love or appreciation

“This is what peak male performance looks like. My ears and tail are kind of the pinnacle of masculinity” “You don’t have a tail.” “What are you talking about? Yes I do it’s… what the? Where’s my tail? How long have I not had my tail?”

Hmm… perhaps masculinity doesn’t come naturally to you at all, Jax. Maybe it’s an act that you need to conjure each day. Maybe if you let your guard down, it will slip away.

“A bartender AND a tattoo artist? Ha! You’re killing me here, Zoobie!” “What do you mean when you say that?” What DOES Jax mean? Well from inside the queer community, these are clearly digs at being a bit of a stereotype for a queer/non-binary person. But they aren’t the kinds of stereotypes non-queer people tend to know about. These are in-jokes, the kinds of things even a lonely closeted person might know about if they’ve gone down an online rabbit hole or two trying to figure own their identity. When Zooble challenges Jax on this, they want an admission that Jax is in on it. Stop taking your self-hatred out on the rest of us and crack a little already!

And then there’s SOFTBALL. Everyone’s evil clone picks at their personal insecurities (with the possible exception of Pomni, which makes sense because Caine hasn’t known her as long) because at this point Caine is actively trying to get the gang to hate the suggestion box adventures. Evil Ragatha is mean and loud. Coach Dictatorer has immense power and misuses it (less of a read on the evil clone’s actions & more the implications of a dictator, but definitely what Caine sees as Kinger’s fatal flaw). Evil Zooble is stupid. Gangle doesn’t even get an evil clone — she’s left out. Evil Jax is pink and nice and ~sensitive~ And while everyone else seems to be just vaguely annoyed and unsettled at their clones, Jax wants to “kill that guy” on sight. 

Suddenly, Jax is in a maid outfit. Everyone can see it. Jax looks “LIKE THIS,” fully exposed to everyone, and suddenly becomes the most upset Zooble’s ever seen.

Zooble implies that this might be fitting for Jax. “What’s that supposed to mean?” That literal pink triangle has a well-tuned queerdar. They know an egg when they see one.

Episode 6: They All Get Guns

Again with performatively being enthusiastic about toxic masculinity-coded things like violence and a big pile of guns. 

We’re all just a bunch of cartoon characters, archetypes, definitely no deep inner worlds going on here, absolutely not! 

When Ragatha implies that she might know what’s going on in Jax’s head she doesn’t just get shot. Jax keeps shooting past getting the killing blow, past being out of bullets. Don’t you DARE try to understand what’s going on in my mind. 

And then of course there’s Pomni. A major conflict in Jax is the desire to keep everyone out vs the crushing weight of loneliness. With Pomni, we try to have it both ways. Let’s have a surface-level friendship built on nothing real. Avoid personal questions and lean into being cartoon characters. But that’s not a proper friendship, and Pomni knows it.

Jax desperately wants Pomni to hang out and fill the void, but WITHOUT really knowing or caring about Jax. If she would just betray me, just shoot me, then I could hold it over her head whenever she tries to go deep. Could prove that this doesn’t mean anything.

But Pomni won’t. She knows there’s something real here. She refuses to give up. And Jax can’t handle that.

“I’m just a misunderstood little chicken fetus in an egg that needs to be cracked open”

Hyperventilating in the bathroom. Embarrassed. Went too far. Revealed too much. What if Pomni suspects? What if she sees? And, on another level… what have I done? AGAIN. “God, you look stupid.”

Episode 7: Beach Episode

Clothing has long been highly gendered in our society, and while we’ve come a long way from women fighting for bloomers, there’s one place where the sartorial gender binary is still going strong: the beach.

So no surprise that Jax never even shares the screen with “Caine’s magical changing room.” So soon after the maid outfit debacle, who knows what might happen? And if it provides something masc, then what? Your whole chest is exposed. Better to stay in the shade.

“Aren’t you supposed to be miserable about your ability to choose your own body or something?” — is this one even subtext? This is text. The line read is steeped in bitter jealousy. And of course ‘when I have problems I talk about them with the people I trust’ just straight-up causes Jax to walk away. Turn tail. Guess you’ve got your tail again.

Teetering on the edge of abstraction. After seeing episode nine it’s hard not to think that Zooble’s comment about confiding in friends is the direct catalyst for this. Getting too close to people again. Don’t you remember what happened last time? You awful, miserable fool.

And I fully believe this could have been it. This scene is a foil of the scene with Ribbit, the light side of the coin. So close to succumbing to abstraction but saved at the last second by a knock at the door… 

This bedroom is 57 shades of pink. Rainbows & fluffy clouds. A tiny table in the corner, ready for a tea party. A girlhood deferred.

No one is waiting for Jax out there, not after the disaster that was such a botched attempt at coming out. Mom is either dead or dead to me.

We see the flashes that lead Jax to press the button. Caine didn’t force that hand, the whole point of this exercise was to prove that the humans would push it on their own. But wouldn’t it be simpler, less painful, if a mind-controlling AI did it. Certainly some excuse is necessary and if the others start to ask Jax why the circus is preferable to the outside world, well… we can’t have that.

Episode 8: hjsakldfhl

Oh god… it’s real… we’re all still fully fleshed-out three-dimensional human beings. All of the parts of me are still here. Even the part I try to pretend never existed at all. And they’re not sticking to the roles I’ve been trying to keep them in. I don’t have control over anything.

That torture sequence, it’s not just fear that this might happen, it’s fear that it could happen AGAIN. Crack open your egg and they’ll laugh & belittle you, just like your own mother did. 

Episode 9: Remember

Brain scans. “I’m still…” you can see where that sentence is going. I’m still on the streets, taking shelter in abandoned office buildings. I’m still hiding myself from everyone. I’m living a miserable, closeted nightmare twice over!

One. Last. Reach. Abandoned before it began, but that piece is still in there. The side of Jax that wants things to get better. That wants, at least, to try. But listening to that instinct is what ruined Jax’s life out there. It’s not hope, it’s weakness. Keep it chained down and under a tight fist. Cut it off as soon as you notice it trying to speak up and walk away. Maybe abstraction would be better. 

And so…

Everyone has complicated feelings about Jax. Listing the wrongs he has done to the circus cast… it would take a minute and it wouldn’t be productive to this piece. But if you’re a queer kid on the edge, pay attention to this: NO ONE is happy that Jax is gone. No one is relieved. No matter how hard Jax tried to push them away at every turn, it never worked completely. Even after all that cartoonish, purposeful villainy, the people around Jax are heartbroken at his loss, or wishing they could be. They would rather still have Jax around. No question.

Pomni refuses to give up, even now. “It’s too late” can be a self-fulfilling prophecy. If it really is too late, then trying won’t do anything. But what if it isn’t? Isn’t it worth putting in some effort in order to really find out? Even if you’re not successful, even if it really is too late… there can be power in trying. That experience can still be meaningful. Pomni would certainly do it over on loop, if given the chance, I’m sure of it. Even knowing it’s futile, she would never choose to simply let Jax go. She will always embrace her friend.

Literally into the mind of Jax, what might we find it here? Many facets of a complicated individual, of course! 

The part that lashes out against anyone who tries to get close. Don’t try to fix me, don’t try to help me grieve. We’re just cartoons and I’m the kind of nasty character that will literally strangle you for trying. The way this Jax turns to look at Real Pomni with the eyes of a predator. After all, what is it she’s here to do?

The part that wears irony like a shield. I don’t care about anything so you can’t know anything about me. Trying to get companionship from Gangle but only in the most toxic way possible. Everything that looks nice is actually a front, so don’t think my befriending you or propositioning you means anything.

The funny one! Masking everything with humour. Taking a serious situation and literally peeling it off the screen, replacing it with a roadrunner cartoon. We’ve seen these moments, haven’t we? This is “also she’s dumb and she looks weird” goes Warner Brothers.

The sensitive soul, stifled by the others, not allowed a seat at the table but begrudgingly allowed in the room. Playing the piano. What are the odds this one the one non-sport extra-curricular young Jax was allowed to indulge in? It’s not quite girly, but not terribly masculine either. Maybe dad didn’t want to keep paying for lessons. Waste of his hard-earned money. Children internalise things like that.

That door sure is chained up tight. Can’t even budge. What side of Jax is back there? I bet you can guess.

The yellow door leads to the sides of Jax all together… mostly. Even in this inner sanctum, there’s somebody missing, still behind a locked door. Would it be giving away the game to say that these Jaxes have “a strict no girls allowed policy”? Because if so, Jax just gave away the game.

The three coping mechanisms are playing poker. Gambling with their own sanity. Gambling with the lives of those around them. Passing chips back and forth and never getting anywhere, putting up a front even in their own mind.

Knock knock from the chained-up door prompts a swift & aggressive “shut up” from the group. She’s not allowed to speak up. She’s not allowed to make her presence known. Even the sensitive side is on thin ice, chained to the piano, forced to put on a show without getting a real seat at the table. Here it is, the side that still wants to reach out, able to hand over the key before they all fade away.

Running frantically away from a house. Driving down a dark road. Sleeping on the sidewalk. And then…

Poof! In a place that makes even less sense than the world, somehow. A new body, but you hate it just as much as the last. Can’t even look in a mirror once without complaining about how you look. Slow to warm up to the new people, but eventually forced to crack a smile, to laugh. Peeking out from under the shell, getting close to people, letting them in.

And a night that could have been the start of a lovely new chapter. A night that was so, so close to going right. Two girls sitting on a bed, barely apart because they’re definitely gay.

Ribbit comes from a Mormon family. She knows what it is to need to trust someone before you feel safe revealing your queerness. They hope that they’ve built that kind of trust with Jax. She shares a story that she hopes will resonate. They already know Jax was homeless… they have their suspicions about why a young person might get kicked out of their home at that age. She sees how nervous Jax is, has probably seen Jax react to situations in specific ways that feel… familiar. They’re taking it slow, but it was a good day, they’re alone in a safe space, maybe a little coaxing would go a long way on a night like tonight.

And god it does. Even now, Jax doesn’t say out loud what personal thing was relayed to Mom, but the clues are all there. Dad was never proud. Jax had a fraught relationship with masculinity. Mom thought Jax was the worst of his father so maybe… maybe it would “get her off my back” if… if I was nothing like him, right?

Wrong.

No one should have to go through this. No one should open their true self to a trusted family member and be met with anything less than love and support. No one’s vulnerability should be met with laughter and belittling and degrading. I don’t care who you are, you do NOT deserve that. You deserve so much better.

And then that hug. Hate the sin, love the sinner. Too little too late. A mockery of the love you should have for your own child. Of course Jax pushes back against that.

But pushing back has consequences, whether it’s figurative or literal. And you can’t bear to find out what has happened. In any case, what does it matter? Either way, it’s clear that you can’t stay here. There’s no home left.

And Ribbit takes all that in, and doesn’t blame Jax. We know how Jax feels on the matter, it was right at the top of the episode. Kinger accidentally killed Caine, a figure of authority in their lives who was being toxic and controlling, sure, but put a tent over their heads and provided for them. You’re just going to forgive that? Take Kinger’s side? Don’t you know how awful of a sin this is. Anyone who does something like that deserves to be self-flagellated for as long as they live. I deserve this.

But maybe there’s a chance for Jax to see that Ribbit means it. That they’re not just “okay” with this, but eager to meet the real girl under all those layers. They think she deserves more than a life in the darkness. They think she should soak in the light.

But Ribbit also knows that this is step one. They want Jax to know that they know, but that they won’t force Jax out until the time is right. They put that ribbon on Jax’s head while saying “your secret’s safe with me.” It’s perfect. It might even work. Except…

Here it is: the dark side of the coin mirroring its episode 7 counterpart. Instead of a hand being offered at the brink of damnation, a disruption breaks the fragile beginnings of a salvation.

That knock at the door sends Jax into a spiral. Maybe I can be open to the idea of Ribbit knowing this, maybe, but there are other people here. There are real men here. Let even an inch slip and I’m risking disaster. If I let my guard down for a moment, I’ll forget how I’m supposed to sound, how I’m supposed to act. My tail will fade away and I won’t even notice, maybe until it’s too late.

So no, Ribbit can’t know this. Ribbit has to UNknow this ASAP. It was just a corny backstory out of a Hallmark movie. I made it up and it doesn’t count and by the way BACK OFF.

I can’t team up with a girl any more. I’m with Kaufmo. I’m with Kaufmo again. Just us guys. Being dudes, as you know. Not friends, who talk about their feelings, but rather bros who crack jokes and keep everything safe and shallow.

But after Ribbit abstracts, even Kaufmo’s not safe. Reaching out. Trying to talk about feelings. Shut it down. Shut it all down. Promise you’ll never say her name again. Stay out of my way.

Let me turn my attention instead to this newcomer. She doesn’t know anything and she’s in a vulnerable position, finding her bearings in a strange place. Let’s call her Gangle, this pathetic thing. This girl.

Jax is constantly in opposition to Gangle. Always bullying and belittling (remind you of a certain mother?). Literally learning personal information about her and holding it over her head (a certain incident involving an anime figurine). Jax pays the trauma forward, continues the cycle, replays the past but this time as the one who has the control in the dynamic. Tight control.

And so, here we are. Caught back up to the present with the immensity of Jax’s self destruction laid bare at last.

“You’re not supposed to love me.” Go down queer internet rabbit holes and you’ll find more than comfort and in-jokes. You’ll also find tragedy and heartbreak and you’ll see that trans women in particular have had more than their fair share of both. Jax knows how horribly so many trans stories have ended. Jax doesn’t see why this one should be any different. It’s not like Jax deserves any better, right?

Over and over, Jax had chances to reach out and change. But ever since that night and what did happen and what might have happened, Jax has looked back at the past and concluded that acceptance isn’t possible and even if it is it’s too late to truly earn it.

Using this as motivation to push everyone away is just digging the hole even deeper. New examples added to the list of Reasons I’m A Bad Person. Now there’s definitely no point in trying.

But there is. Of course there is. Just talk to me, man. Even if it is “too late,” just… try.

And in the glow of that pink streetlight, Jax gets a hug that doesn’t feel like a sick joke. A hug with no judgement, even with everything laid bare. A hug not just for the acceptable parts of you, but for everything you are.

And yes, it’s still too late. But it was worth it.

That choice of song, a song written about the birth of a daughter. A song about a new girl coming into the world. Sung by a disappearing guy. Isn’t she lovely indeed.

I’ve seen folks chafe against a trans reading of Jax because she’s “not good representation,” and don’t get it twisted: knowing Jax’s tragic backstory does not undo the harm she caused. Doesn’t make Jax A Good Person, Actually. Doesn’t lessen the suffering of Gangle or Ragatha or Kaufmo or Ribbit.

But I think we can look closer. Take in the context. Trust a trans artist to tell a compelling and deeply real story. One that resonates with its target audience, and can even spread out beyond it to anyone willing to exercise their empathy muscles a bit.

Jax is a copy of a brain during a moment in time when that brain was young and deeply resentful. In a strange place that’s providing a perfect opportunity to deflect and ignore deeper desires while leaning into the most toxic coping mechanisms. Nothing here is real. It doesn’t count. Who cares?

Out in the macroverse, Lee doesn’t have that luxury/curse. Lee’s hanging out in a queer bar, making new friends, and in a good place. I think this egg will be able to come out when the time is right.

And even within the circus, is it ever really too late? The abstractions have already shifted form so much. They’re floating freely, their loved ones are visiting, they seem happy and playful. Those three circling above Pomni’s head look like a trio of friends reunited after all. Moving on from the past, together.

If this butterfly ever emerges from her chrysalis, it will take time to repair the other broken relationships but… all good things take time, don’t they?