#diatribe

oh diatribe girl how i love you

She’s messy. She’s vomiting mid fight and taking hits and looking ugly in a way you don’t see in female characters. She’s grieving and isn’t the perfect victim of her grief. She’s rude and angry and disgusting and there’s not a person in sight vying for her romantic attention and I didn’t realize just how much I needed to see ALL of that.

There’s this part of me that I think a lot of us feel—those who’ve been raised as girls or those who’ve been told in general to act or feel or to be seen in a certain way—this form of almost-grief that is constantly put aside or pacified with something that is meant to embody what we find so limiting in this current world. You see moments of articulation, of what’s missing, but it’s gone so fast. I think of Arcane, that first fight Vi has and it slo-mos on her face. The saliva being driven from her mouth, the wrinkle of the nose. We don’t see these things enough and I missed it when I realized there’s little beyond that scene in Arcane in other shows and movies STILL.

I don’t WANT to always have a character looking sexy in their pain. It feels like porn of a different form when women are grieving or agonizing while they look intentionally beautiful with makeup and effects via the director/crew behind the scenes. It HURTS and it’s vindicating and healing to know that the reason I find Kara beautiful and attractive in this movie is because of her character and the side effect of having a gorgeous actress. They’re not perfecting her hair or placing a shit ton of makeup on her. Her skirt is a skort and 3/4s the time she’s wearing baggy vomit covered clothes and her hair looks like it’s been through a blender.

There’s that, and also the message of the film.

You’re not nice, but you’re kind. Just be good. That doesn’t mean you can’t be tough, and that doesn’t mean you have to be nice, but you must be good.

It made me think of the Mary Oliver poem, Wild Geese.

“You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.”

This poem sums up a lot of what I’ve been feeling after watching this. Not just of Kara coping with her grief and coming into herself through the love of a girl and her family, of forgiving herself for surviving but the fact that she could exist on screen looking like a human. A messy, imperfect, human. After watching that one Arcane scene a couple years back. This need to just be. To enjoy what and who I am. To embrace the ugliness and messiness of myself and my gender in general without hesitance or self-ridicule.

I think I love Supergirl too because it feels like a film that would’ve been so widely accepted because its format if the character wasn’t female because, the characterization, is a familiar one. Who doesn’t love that alcoholic, messy, snarky dude who rolls up on screen. Who’s competent but dealing with some inner demons. But this characterization is limited and kept from female characters, and seeing this film only make me want to see more of this. Give me your bastards, your snarky messy women. Give me women who don’t shy from being feminine, or embrace their masculinity without putting other women down or feeling like a man + boobs. Give me trans women that remind us of the pure joy of being a woman in the first place, and who are happy and healthy in films, who are human beings like the rest of us. Give me asexual women, aromantic women, women who adore other women, romantic or platonic. Give me women who suck but are still human. Just give me humans. Not caricatures of humans.

I want this film to serve as another starting point, an example, and a catalyst for more female characters looking like this or at least being represented in more ways that feel thoughtful and like they matter.

Thanks Kara. You are my supergirl.

Do you remember that one person who inspired you as a kid? Who might have got you into a new hobby or a potential career? And you were a huge fan of theirs. They both inspired you and are the reason you’re doing what you’re doing today. Then they became a bigot. And now you can’t stand them. No? Just me? OK. So, we’re gonna talk about an author who’s possibly better known for her bigotry than…

The first edition of a yearly zine full of musings between the infamous @shanebugbee and myself. Though, the link to The Infernal Church is long dead, unfortunately.

The Soliloquys dissect modern culture, politics, and Satanic ideology, challenging readers to embrace skepticism over consensus. Topics include the crucial distinction between the Black Sheep, the Outsider, and the Scapegoat; who truly controls History and Truth; the merits of free-flowing information vs. controlled narratives; and a provocative debate on Global Justice versus domestic focus, sparked by the Palestine/Israel conflict and acts of Martyrdom.

A vital, witty, and uncompromising read for the self-defined outsider.

Evil Succubus Dickie waiting till he's in his mid twenties to pounce Bruce

I need more dumb porn premise that isn't wholesome in nature

Bruce getting his brain sucked out of his manhood while being petrified

Monster fucking where it's still gross and humiliating for the man having a so called good time

It's about the chasm between a non human and a rational minded man ya see

Bruce loving Dick as a human, but being scared and disgusted by the Monster

Said monster just wants to have sexy times. A lot. Continuously.

No further mention of yaoi below the cut

‘Oh my Father, Lord of Silence, Supreme God of Desolation, though mankind reviles yet aches to embrace, strengthen my purpose to save the world from a second ordeal of Jesus Christ and his grubby mundane creed. Two thousand years have been enough. Show man instead the raptures of Thy kingdom. Infuse in him the grandeur of melancholy, the divinity of loneliness, the purity of evil, the paradise of pain. What perverted imagination has fed man the lie that Hell festers in the bowels of the Earth? There is only one Hell, the leaden monotony of human existence. There is only one Heaven, the ecstasy of my Father's kingdom.’

‘Nazarene, charlatan, what can you offer humanity? Since the hour you vomited forth from the gaping wound of a woman, you've done nothing but drown man's soaring desires in a deluge of sanctimonious morality. You've inflamed the pubertal mind of youth with your repellent dogma of original sin. And now you absolve in denying them the ultimate joy beyond death by destroying me? But you will fail, Nazarene, as you have always failed. We were both created in man's image, but while you were born of an impotent God, I was conceived of a jackal. Born of Satan, the desolate one, the nail. Your pain on the cross was but a splinter compared to the agony of my father. Cast out of heaven, the fallen angel, banished, reviled. I will drive deeper the thorns into your rancid carcass, you profaner of vices. Cursed Nazarene. Satan, I will avenge thy torment, by destroying the Christ forever.’