The Great Nothing

It's a sobering realization, after putting years of work into a lifelong project, when you think about how many people will never get to see the final product, because they ran out their clocks while you were still working on it. But it's even more sobering when you think about how many of those people would never have seen it anyway, even if they'd still been alive when it was finished - because they simply aren't interested.

And that's not a dig against them. I just think it's a tragedy that taste is subjective. Your mileage may vary, and I may just be reflecting my own faults, but it is my experience that every man is an island. Ironic though it is, it is even more readily apparent in this hyper-connected techno-global community. We are all just isolated digital nodes pretending to be a network. (In honor of the show that first taught me this, we each have an impenetrable AT Field).

So many times I've shouted into the abyss, only to get in response nothing more than a few faint snarls, and the echo of my own voice. My innermost desire is to leave behind some proof that I existed. My lifelong struggle is coming to terms with the fact that I am nothing. The curse that was placed on my soul is the fate of being middling. The title of my autobiography is "Almost Gifted". I'm too good to fit in with the riff-raff. But not good enough to be counted among the greats. And it tortures me endlessly.

Tomb Raider Outfits

I'm nearing completion of Tomb Raider Remastered, an awesome game released early this year on Steam which compiles the first three original Tomb Raider games with lovingly remastered graphics (rest assured, the gameplay is untouched). And I wanted to highlight the various outfits Lara dons in these games. Playing these games in the late '90s was not only one of my early experiences directing a female protagonist in a video game (something that would later clue me in to my nontraditional gender identity), but it triggered an early awakening of my interest in fashion.

Especially Tomb Raider 2, which - liberating itself from the hardware limitations of the first game (and Lara's infamous "pyramid boobs") - had the heroine switching up her wardrobe during the course of her adventure. The box came with a cardboard cut-out silhouette of Lara Croft, which I would trace the outline of so I could draw in different types of clothing. This would later manifest in my yearning for a mannequin to dress up, and ultimately my interest (after I convinced myself that I could pull it off sufficiently well) in dressing myself up in various feminine fashions.

In any case, today I want to review the different canonical outfits Lara dons in the first three Tomb Raider games, and pick out my favorites. I've separated them into categories.

Classic Outfits

From the very first Tomb Raider game, Lara Croft made a splash in her iconic outfit - with brown shorts, a turquoise shirt, and hiking boots. Minor adjustments were made for the sequel (not counting the improved graphics - not shown here). But in Tomb Raider 3, a version with cropped top and green shorts was featured during her tropical tour of the South Pacific Islands. And then there's a bonus version with Lara torn and bloodied. Although I usually say "less is more", there's just something about that classic outfit - and I prefer the scooped neck of the Tomb Raider 2 upgrade.

Workout Gear

Before each adventure, the player has the option to visit Croft Manor and train with Lara in order to learn her moves. For this segment she dons her workout gear - introducing, in the first game, her very first alternate outfit. Although Lara is restricted to the inside of the mansion in the first game (once again due to hardware limitations and/or production deadlines), subsequent games allow her to explore the outdoor obstacle course and garden environs. I've also included Lara's desert camo in this category, from her stint in Nevada during Tomb Raider 3, since it's just a color swap of her training outfit from that game. My favorite version is actually the first one. I like the sporty top, and the lack of shoes makes it feel more intimate.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

From the Himalayas to the South Pole, Lara has never been afraid of a little snow. In Tomb Raider 2 she donned her iconic bomber jacket to raid a Tibetan monastery, and in Tomb Raider 3 her adventures culminated in a trip to Antarctica. I've gotta say, I'm not feeling the orange parka and white camo. But that bomber jacket is stylin' - and I love that Lara gets to keep her trademark shorts.

You Might Get Wet

In Tomb Raider 2, Lara squeezed into a wetsuit (who could forget her mid-conversation wardrobe change just off-camera during the cinematic?) to explore a sunken shipwreck, and fended off a home invasion wearing nothing but a bathrobe. I do like the wetsuit - it's one of only a few outfits that don't include shoes (not a very helpful accessory when you're doing a lot of swimming) - but that velvety blue bathrobe is goddess-tier. Nothing can compete with it. I just wish Lara had sported a bikini at some point in-game.

Wildcats

When Lara made a tour of London in Tomb Raider 3, she slipped into a sleek black catsuit to play the spy. But her Vegas vacation in the secret bonus level to the expansion for Tomb Raider 2 (titled The Golden mask) was a nightmare - right down to her garish leopard print evening wear, which I'd prefer to forget. A dress would have been nice - but understandably impractical for all the running, jumping, and climbing Lara does. But that catsuit? That's the stuff of fantasies.

An Open Letter

All politicians are corrupt. (Except maybe Bernie Sanders). As someone who used to be a conscientious non-voter, and who doesn't feel that ANY part of the mainstream reflects my personal values, I'm the last person to come out of the woodwork and tell you, THIS politician is different. But he is.

I mean, just on a superficial level, it's a bad look for the country. If you can't see that, then you're clearly biased. But it doesn't stop there. He poses a threat to national security, and the very system our country is based on. But that's not even the part that motivates me to speak out. I have my issues with the Democratic platform, but I detest Republican values even more. THAT'S not even the reason I'm in distress.

No matter what your beliefs are, or what you THINK Trump stands for, what scares me is the little people that feel empowered by having this doofus in the White House. You might not see them, living in your upscale suburban neighborhood or gated community. But I'm out here in the country, and I'm surrounded by them.

People with hatred in their hearts. People who aren't smart enough, or empathetic enough to curb their impulses. People who carry guns and are just looking for an excuse to use them. People who can't understand anyone that doesn't look like them, and who hate and fear anything they don't understand.

You're not one of those people. I know that. But in casting your lot with Trump, you're empowering those people. You're helping to give THEM a platform. And that's fucking scary.

Maybe you're not the target they're gunning for. You're not a minority. You're white. You're straight. You're male. You've got it made. But I know for a FACT that you have people you love who do fall into those categories that these people are out to destroy.

And it breaks my heart that you're helping them to do that. I hate to think that you're dumb enough or ignorant enough or brainwashed enough not to realize it, but the alternative - that you actually agree that people like me shouldn't exist - is even harder to stomach.

This country is SUPPOSED to be founded on liberty - the freedom to make our own choices in life, and pursue happiness in our own individual ways, while sharing the same rights and protections as everyone else. That's what America stands for. And that is NOT what Trump symbolizes.

Congratulations. You got lucky. Or you worked hard. You've made it. Does that give you the right to step on the necks of everybody else less fortunate than you? What a role model you are.

Omega Level Threat

I wish that everyone who voted for Trump out of ignorance and, hard as it is for me to say this, "good faith" had a candidate that stood for the particular issues they care about, instead of this seditious buffoon. I'm sure I'd still disagree and vote against this candidate, but at least then we'd restore some dignity to our politics.

Even if I had allowed myself to be hoodwinked into thinking Trump cared about the things I care about (like free speech and dismantling the system - but if you think a Republican regime with Trump at its helm is going to serve your interests, then you're dangerously naive), I still wouldn't support him for office of the president. He's a global embarrassment to our country. The only thing more embarrassing is that a majority of "we, the people" are dumb enough to throw their MAGA hats into his ring.

You don't have to put on Jackboots to be a Nazi. Handing power to the party is enough. Hell, stepping aside and letting them march in the streets is tantamount to support. I spent 18 years of my adult life believing that engaging in partisan politics was pointless. So believe me, I get it. But for those 14 million of you (only half of which would have been enough to defeat Trump) who thought, "Harris isn't great, might as well be Trump" - you're not paying attention. And the cost of freedom is eternal vigilance.

We've always had a "lesser evil" system of governance. And it's made little difference which brand of evil rises to the top. But if you can't recognize an omega level threat when it comes along, then you deserve what you're all about to get. I just wish you hadn't thrown the rest of us under the bus.

Crapshoot

My high school astronomy teacher's motto was "if it's worth doing, it's worth doing right." I live by that philosophy, but mostly because I'm terrified of making mistakes and being judged for them. Regardless, the result is that I'm meticulous. I'm not dumb, but I'm a slow learner - because when I learn things, I learn them deep. I sit back and observe, absorbing and understanding, until I feel confident to step up. And where does it get me? Nowhere. Some half-brained ape gets all the opportunities and fumbles into success while the perfection and precision I've made painstaking effort to accomplish goes completely ignored. So much of what I was taught, and how I've conceived of the world from a young age, was a lie. I look for order, reason, and justice. There is none. Meritocracy is a fantasy. Life is a crapshoot; there is no skill more valuable than luck. And it's not something you can build or train or learn.

Coming Soon

In 1970, Dino Valenti sung, "I believe the revolution must be mighty close at hand." That was over 50 years ago. At what point does it start sounding like religious fundamentalists crying that "Jesus is coming soon"? I'm not anti-progress, but I don't want to be a hypocrite ("it works for me, but not for thee"), and I also don't want to be sitting around til my dying day banking on a fantasy that's not going to come true. Yes, we should live each day as if it were our last, and hold true to our principles, while working towards a better future - if not for ourselves, then for those who come after us. Absolutely. But we should also have perspective, and temper our idealism with reality. I don't want to live a life of delusion.

Scratching an Itch

I have very little experience with addiction (just putting that out there), but I liken chemical dependancy to creating an itch. It puts you in a bind, because not scratching can be maddening. But while scratching the itch might feel incredible, it only exacerbates the problem - until you're scratching your arm off, raw and bloody. Wouldn't it be better not to have the itch in the first place? I don't miss the scratching after the mosquito bite has healed. In fact, I don't even think about it. Because there's no itch. So why would I consciously put myself in that position?

Birthday Candles on the Funeral Pyre

To anyone who's known me, and wondered why I'm always so tight-lipped and mysterious - even going back to my childhood - it's 100% a symptom of my anxiety. I'm terrified of being judged, even for the stupidest little things. But the older I get, the more I'm getting tired of hiding. It seems to me that with every candle that gets added to your birthday cake, that's one less fuck to give - in my case, about upsetting the people who don't appreciate who I am and what I represent. What's the point of even living, if you never get the chance to be yourself, and let people get to know the real you?

I'm not saying that's an excuse to be an asshole, or a criminal, but that's never been my personality anyway. I'm just tired of walking on my tippy toes around conservatives and conformists who don't like the way I dress, who are insecure of their own sexuality, who are afraid of the human body in a way that is patently sexist, and who want to legislate away my access to health care, my prospects for a fulfilling (if not lucrative) career in the erotic arts, and my ability to pursue the activities that bring me happiness.

The longer I live, the more likely it's going to be that I'll piss off the wrong person, and experience harassment, be violently attacked (I don't know why conservatives are so intimidated by liberals, because my fear is literally that a conservative will pull out a gun and shoot me), or run afoul of a power-drunk fascist with a badge. Not because I'm a villain or I want to hurt anyone. But because I'm different. And people don't understand that. Maybe they would understand better if I expressed myself more. But that's really hard to do when it feels like doing so puts an enormous target on your chest. So much for freedom of speech.

I know it's the nature of anxiety to exaggerate one's fears, and I wonder sometimes if I have a habit of externalizing my own limitations - because it's easier to blame someone else for holding you back than to break through the blockage in your own mind. The truth is, I'm more afraid of self-criticism (on Bojack Horseman, I related to "Stupid Piece of Shit" more than the depression and the alcoholism) than I am of any low IQ, middle school-educated, gun-toting, Trump-flag waving, ape in human clothing.

Maybe I'm just getting bored of this lifestyle of hiding all the time, and want to shake things up, come what may. But I can tell you that the more radicalized the conservative segment of our culture becomes, the more emboldened it makes me, and the less willing I am to capitulate to their fragile sensibilities in order to avoid making waves. The louder you spew hatred, the more I want to shove the thing you hate in your face, no matter the danger to myself. The time for diplomacy is over. You can kill me, but you'll never change who I am. There exists a line that, when crossed, disenfranchised minorities will be willing to lay down even their lives for justice. And dangerous though that may be, it could be argued that keeping them pacified in their disenfranchisement is the more insidious alternative.

All of this was covered in Stellan Skarsgård's speech in Andor. I've also likened it in the past to the character of the donkey in Animal Farm. He's intelligent. He just wants to lead a simple life on the farm. As far as he's concerned, the new boss is same as the old boss. Until the animals let the pigs load up the horses for the glue factory, thinking they're just going to the hospital - because they literally can't read the writing on the wall (or the side of the truck). And the donkey loses it - he just can't keep silent any longer. It's why all wise men fear the anger of a patient man. And I'm starting to get angry. With each step I take toward my own grave, I have a little bit less to lose. And there's still so, so much to be gained.

Tekko '24

As it turns out, the weekend of Tekko coincides with Picklesburgh - a surprisingly popular pickle-themed festival that takes place in downtown Pittsburgh. We learned this on Friday, walking through Market Square. As we sat in Five Guys eating lunch, it was just a constant stream of people passing the window - wearing green, carrying pickle-shaped balloons, and eating pickles on sticks. There was also a baseball game on Saturday - all of this probably explaining why we were completely unable to find a hotel room in the city for the weekend.

As such, we were stuck booking a room last minute at a Motel Sux outside of town. We'd stayed there before - in the days of Tekkosnowcon - but either our standards had risen, or the place has gone to shit, because it was a hellhole. You can't even walk up to the front desk - you have to talk to the concierge through a tiny plate of glass in the wall. Our room reeked of cigarettes, had drug paraphernalia under the bed, the shower leaked all over the bathroom (and was just generally cramped, with no shelves for soap or shampoo), the sink was clogged, and the air conditioner had two settings - off, and refrigerator.

I was so cold the first night, I woke up at 7:30 in the morning and drove to Walmart to buy a blanket (the motel's blankets were paper thin, so asking for extras would have been pointless), a hair dryer (I had to sleep with damp hair on top of everything else - because I thought my hair dryer was busted, but it turned out that it was just the outlet that didn't work...), and a box of assorted donuts (like my dad used to provide at Pinewood Resort), and got back before anyone else was up. Which, if you know me, is pretty rare. On the other hand, the weather was gorgeous all weekend. Warm and dry - lots of sun to soak up on the roof of the convention center, and balmy evenings to sit out on the deck under a full moon. Perfect conditions, as luck would have it, to walk around half naked.

On that subject, the official theme of this year's convention was "the beach episode" - a common trope in anime that is used (often to both humorous and titillating effect) as an excuse to depict a show's characters in various forms of swimwear. It's the anime equivalent of a swimsuit issue with some comedy sprinkled in. Imagine my excitement when I heard about this after the con last year - I pulled out all my skimpiest cosplays, even bringing a couple from pre-COVID times out of retirement. But if anyone else knew about the theme, it didn't show. Even the badge illustration was disappointing - instead of a cute girl in a bikini, it was an Elegant Gothic Lolita dying of heatstroke (I like the aesthetic of EGL fashion, but my one major complaint is its preoccupation with modesty). What's more, the AMV that won the award in the "convention theme" category didn't even feature a single swimsuit!

But that didn't stop me from pretending I was at the beach. On Friday I dusted off my Pikachu-in-a-Speedo cosplay. Debuted in 2016, it was retired in 2019 so I could work an a shimmering gold upgrade - Shiny Pikachu. But my lack of talent with a sewing machine (it was one of only two classes I ever got a D in - the other being Quantum Mechanics) has slowed me down. Hopefully the thrill of going to conventions again (after the COVID hiatus) will motivate me to get it finished - ideally by next year. When some guy in a three-layer military-inspired cosplay made a point to tell me I was the least-dressed person at the convention, I thought to myself, "mission accomplished!"

On Saturday, I brought out my homemade Slave Leia cosplay again for the second year (I figure the opening to Return of the Jedi is as close to a beach episode as Star Wars gets). It received a lot of praise, although it goes to show the generation gap that I was called Padme more than once... >.> At one point, a Guts cosplayer told me he loved my cosplay (the feeling was mutual), and that he had to get a picture with me. He even let me hold his sword! I deferred on bringing my lightsaber again this year, but I'm committed to eventually making the evolution to full-blown Jedi Warrior Princess. I just don't like the idea of having to carry it around all day; and I'll have to practice my poses because I know it'll draw more people's attention to me.

On the subject of Berserk, I pulled out my Griffith cosplay for Sunday, inspired by an obscure scene from the '90s series in which the characters wash up beside a well - essentially the medieval version of a beach episode. One of the highlights of the weekend was at the very end, as I was taking some final pictures at the water wall on the way to the car. Another cosplayer not only recognized the character I was [barely] dressed as, but also the precise scene I was depicting! It's rare, but moments like that - when you can share in an obscure fandom with complete strangers - really make you feel seen and appreciated.

It's part of the reason I still enjoy going to Tekko all these years later, and why I'm always reluctant to leave at the end of the day/weekend (and why it annoys me when somebody asks "what's the point of going on Sunday?"). I can't say if this is true of anime conventions in general, but Tekko is extraordinarily welcoming to queer and neurodivergent populations. This year, they had ALL the bathrooms re-labeled to be gender neutral - proving that utopia is surprisingly easy to accomplish, if we could only agree to be decent to one another from the outset. And jettison the poisonous belief that people deserve to suffer just because they look or act different than we expect them to. Come on, people, it really isn't that hard.

The sheer creativity and imagination on display in terms of people's fashions, coupled with the camaraderie and shared passion of an entire subculture dedicated to a specific entertainment medium, is all so intoxicatingly refreshing. This is what I want the rest of the world to be like all the time - people being free, and feeling comfortable, to express themselves without fear of judgment or derision. So many colorful personalities get drowned out and stomped on by the suffocating boundaries of conventional society. You can peel off your human disguise and be the fabulous alien you are - if just for a few days. It doesn't sound like much, but like a drop of water in the desert, it's a precious and valued resource.

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Now then, what did I miss?

When we arrived at the convention center on Thursday to pick up our badges, the line was wrapped around three sides of the building! It's the first time I've seen that at Tekko, and reminded me of the lines at Otakon twenty years ago. Official attendance was just over 10,000, which is nearly back up to the level of 2019, before COVID struck.

Although prices in the Exhibition Hall (formerly: Dealer's Room) tend to be high, I was delighted to find not one, but two figures I liked that were reasonably priced ($30 and under!). Both are from the hit series That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime. Last year, Milim figures were way over-priced, so I'm happy to finally get one! And I also found a Raphael figure that I like even better than the one I already have.

I also bought another erotic art book in Onii-chan's Hentai Room. It was a bit expensive, but I'm willing to patronize quality artistic erotica. Although, I'm quickly depleting their stock of materials that appeal to my refined tastes. (I don't know what the otaku obsession with monster-sized boobs is, but I could do without it).

Programming was dull as usual. They don't print out schedules anymore, and they're a pain to read on your phone. I scrolled through it the first night, and literally nothing popped out at me. I actually think it's easier that way. You can just divide your time between the Exhibition Hall, meals, people-watching, and taking photos, without having to rush to panels at particular times, and coordinating with the other people you're with. There's always so much going on at cons, no matter what you do, you're going to miss something. I just don't understand why they have to schedule the AMV Awards and Closing Ceremonies at the same time on Sunday...

Photo meetups seemed to be a big thing this year. I never really bothered with them, but I'm thinking that maybe next year I might actually look for a Pokémon or a Star Wars meetup. It's a toss-up, because I'd love to get more attention and recognition for my cosplays, but it would also be a lot of stress interacting with so many people. Plus, not everyone appreciates my less-is-more approach. I don't care about the haters - I do it for myself first and foremost, and there are always a few con-goers who pop out of the woodwork to thank me for my courage and inspiration, which makes it all worth it. But I also don't want to shove it down anybody's throat. So I don't know.

Can't wait for next year! It was great having my brother back at the con with us again. I know cosplay promises (my own included) are flimsy at best, but there's a lot to look forward to seeing next year! (Crafting ambitions burn brightest right after attending a con; I just hope I can hold onto that fire long enough to get the work done). We're probably going to shuffle the deck and bring some different kids next time, to give someone else a chance to experience the magic. Whatever happens, I can be pretty sure I'll be there and having a blast again. I've already got my ticket!

12 Months

I was thinking that my three favorite months of the year are June, July, and August (what are yours? - they don't have to be consecutive), and it prompted me to write down some of my general thoughts about all 12 months of the year.

January - Bleak, cold. Short days. I like that there are no major holidays - it's a nice break after the holiday gauntlet of Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas. It's also my birthday month, which is fun. Although I'd rather celebrate my birthday in the summer, it goes some way towards balancing out the bleakness of winter. Plus, it's the best time of year for snow, which I enjoy.

February - Despite being the shortest month, I remember it being a slog when I was still in school - no Mondays off; no four day weeks. I dislike Valentine's Day a lot less than when I was younger, now that I've recontextualized it as being about pleasure, and not the stress of romantic liaisons (or the absence thereof). In fact, I enjoy all the red and pink heart decorations. Plus, there's still a good chance for snow.

March - I have no interest in basketball. St. Patrick's Day I could take or leave, although I like the color green. Pi Day is a better celebration for me, personally - but I don't need an excuse to eat pizza. Spring starts, but you wouldn't know it yet. My mom and two brothers have their birthdays in the second half of the month, which is fun, but it also tends to get a little hectic with so much going on. Especially on years when Easter comes early...

April - I don't have any strong feelings about April. Used to be Tekko month, but now that the con has moved to July, there's not much going on. Easter doesn't do much for me, although the decorations are cute. Weather's getting nicer, but it's still not really warm enough for full summer mode. Flowers are pretty, but it's still early in the season.

May - May is okay. More flowers. Progressively milder weather. At the end of the month comes the unofficial start of summer, which is when I really come alive. But I'm pretty much biding my time and gearing up for what's to come at this point. May is like summer's waiting room.

June - Start of summer. My favorite time of year. Warm weather. Swimming, hiking. This is what I live for. Also, being Pride Month is nice. Whether you're gay or not, being unconventional, there's always a base line anxiety about judgment from normies. When it's Pride, there's more of a sense of camaraderie, and that if somebody doesn't like the way you express your identity, it's THEIR problem, not yours. (Unlike the rest of the year).

July - Very much like June, but deeper into the season. More warm weather, maybe even warmer than June (although it really depends). 4th of July I could take or leave, because 1) modern politics has spoiled me on excessive patriotism, and 2) although I like summer holidays in theory, I really prefer it when people stay home and I get the outdoors to myself. But still, this is the middle of my favorite part of the year.

August - Summer, part 3. Sometimes the weather's as hot as ever. Sometimes you get hurricane patterns, especially towards the end of the month. And there's a slight damper with the sense of kids going back to school, and the season coming to a close. Although that effects me less now that I'm long out of school. Last chance for swimming at pools, before they all close by Labor Day.

September - When I was a kid, I hated September - for obvious reasons. But even back then, I had the self-awareness to realize that if it weren't for school, it wouldn't be such a bad month. Notwithstanding hurricane patterns, there's usually still a lot of hot weather. And after Labor Day, there are less people outdoors. For me, the party continues. But the days are beginning to get noticeably shorter. Fall is coming!

October - I do like October a lot, because I love the whole atmosphere of Halloween (between the candy, the costumes, and the horror movies). And lately, you still tend to get some warm weather through the month, just less consistently. Halloween is one of the least stressful of the big holidays for me, because there's so little pressure in my family to celebrate. I can just take my own lead; put on a costume, and join the kids who aren't too old for trick 'r treating yet.

November - November is generally pretty bleak. We're fully into the fall now. Days are short, and with the clock change, very noticeably so. Weather has definitely cooled down, as well. I'm spending a lot of time working on my photo book for the end of the year, which is stressful. But I like Thanksgiving - more than Christmas, these days. Guaranteed good food, with good company. And with no pressure re: gifts and whatnot.

December - Not a fan of December. Very little of the magic of Christmas remains in my heart. Not none, mind you - but very little. I prefer to revel in it on my own. Gatherings at the end of the month tend to be as much stress as festivity anymore, especially with the retirement of the big Christmas Eve party in my family. There's some relief after I finish working on my photo book, but the weather's bleak, with only a small chance of significant snow yet. And the music quickly becomes insufferable. Once Christmas is done, it gets better - a week of rest, and New Years, which I tend to celebrate on my own terms. But I'm more happy than sad when January rolls around and the holidays are done.

Sunny Days

I love 90 degree sunny days. I like it when I step outside, and the heat envelops me like a warm blanket. I know I'm probably an outlier, but it hits different when you're not already wearing clothes. I don't dislike having 90 degree days strung out for weeks at a time, but I wish I could bottle them and spread them more evenly throughout the year. I can only go full out for so long before I need a rest. And it's less my physical stamina (although that's important) than my photo storage capacity that I'm worried about.

An interesting thing that I've noticed, is that when it's especially nice out, and I'm stuck inside for whatever reason (e.g., I'm resting because I just spent several days exerting myself in the heat), I get this tugging sensation - not physically, but mentally. Like I should be out there, enjoying it, before the heat and the sunshine evaporate. The interesting part is that it's a very similar sensation to what I would feel growing up, being a shy kid staying at home, wondering how much fun the popular kids were having at parties and sports games and get-togethers - all the sorts of things I was too terrified to be involved in, but felt like I was missing out on as a result. I think it's a good development, because it's more a sense of, "you should be doing those fun things you like to do", than "you should be doing those fun things you cannot and will never have the ability to do, and will resent not getting to do for most of the rest of your life."

Also, I like sharing fun experiences with other people. And being with someone I'm comfortable with mitigates much of my anxiety at navigating the world. But, being able to go out and do something I like all on my own - being in control of my own destiny and not depending on the permission or the assistance of another - I think it's good for my psychological well-being, even if doing it can be a little scary at times.

"Gimme what I want before I give to to myself."
- Gimme What I Want by Miley Cyrus

Collecting Quarters

I don't know. I might start posting more here. Last fall, I started writing a "journal" of random things that came to mind, just to work through them and get them out of my head. I want to believe I have insightful thoughts, and that through my years of practice, I've cultivated the ability to express myself via the written word effectively. But then I always doubt myself, and try to dial back my ego - I'm an insignificant worm. In half a century or so I'll be gone, barely remembered (and that's if I'm lucky). Nobody cares who I am. Nobody cares what I think. It's all dust in the wind.

But in the meantime, I have to believe there's some purpose to my existence, or how else could I go on? But then there's the fact that every time I express myself, I come to regret it. I've quit every social network I've come across so far, except Facebook - and that's only because it's my only way to stay in contact with my family (since I live far away and don't do phone calls). I keep going back and forth on whether I need more exposure and feedback (which is scary), or if I deserve to be the only one listening to the echo of my voice in an empty auditorium.

Well, here we are, aren't we? I tried expressing myself a little more on Facebook, but the result is either 1) I might as well be listening to the echo of my own voice in an empty auditorium, for all the feedback and engagement I get, or 2) that's more people I've offended and who have probably decided to cut me out of their life (this might be displacement, because the reality is that I feel so embarrassed I want to cut myself out of their life). If I'm expressing myself here in this empty auditorium, at least I won't have to hold back so much. I don't know what the point is - it never seems to turn out well - but if I've learned one thing from being on the internet, it's that this quiet, reserved kid yearns to express themself. To be heard, to be felt to be significant in some way. Even if it's all a pathetic delusion.

Starting with a joke: How can you spot a sadist on a power trip? Look for the robe and gavel.

And now my rant, which isn't even as long as the introduction I've now given it.

I used to like collecting quarters when you knew it was just 50 states you were going to need to collect. I was intrigued when they unveiled a companion set highlighting the national parks. But at a certain point it became clear that they were just going to keep generating new collectibles indefinitely, and that really turned me off. It's like games and computer programs and movies and TV switching from single purchase products to ongoing subscription services. I know it's sad when something you like ends, but a story loses its heart when it drags on past its expiration date. And then there's the FOMO (fear of missing out). Like the rotating flavors at Crumbl (but think of all the incredible flavors you'll miss if you DON'T eat dangerous loads of butter and sugar EVERY week!), don't think for a moment that clever minds aren't gaming your psychology, manipulating you into producing the behavioral patterns that profit THEM (not you) the most. I hate the feeling that I'm being played like a fiddle. So when I sniff out a scheme like that, I run in the opposite direction. Fast.

Memorial Day

Memorial Day is about celebrating the first unofficial weekend of summer. Unfortunately, certain people have to drag down the spirit of the holiday by making it all about patriotism and the military. I want to know why the people who are most likely to salute the flag are the same people who are most likely to desecrate the memorial of the sacrifices we're supposed to be honoring, by actively and openly opposing the freedoms those sacrifices were allegedly made to protect.

If you salute the flag and then turn around and continue to oppress minorities, then you are a disgrace to this nation and everything it stands for. If, on the other hand, you go out there and celebrate our freedoms, and celebrate the freedom of others not like you, then you are performing Memorial Day correctly. And you don't need to salute a flag to do that, or even THINK about anyone who has died, if that takes away from your festivities.

Although, if you really do want to honor those who have made the ultimate sacrifice, allow me to suggest an alternative. Perhaps you could salute a rainbow flag instead, and think of the many cultural pioneers who were literally murdered by conservatives who didn't like the way they expressed their sexual or gender identities. Not to mention the indigenous peoples who were massacred, racial minorities that continue to face discrimination to this day, and women who still don't even own their own bodies.

If nothing else, just try to foster a little perspective, for goodness' sake, and stop blindly following a script that's not very good to begin with. But yeah, I feel bad for the people our nation sent to their deaths - just not the ones who went voluntarily, because it came with the incentive of being allowed to gun down foreigners without criminal sanction.

Celebrity Crushes

At some point an indeterminate amount of time ago (the timestamp on a rough draft indicates early March of 2020, just before the lockdowns), I encountered a meme that involved posting pictures of your celebrity crushes to show if you have a type. It seemed like an interesting experiment (and who doesn't like spending time thinking about people they're attracted to?), but I refrained from participating because I wasn't interested in giving anyone an opportunity to make assumptions about me based on contemporary moral fads. But seeing as this blog is a place for me to testify to my own truth, and I was recently thinking about some old crushes I could add to the list (as well as some new ones), I wanted to revisit the concept.

But first, I had to ask myself, what counts as a crush? Endless is the debate over whether "love at first sight" truly exists. Whether it's love or lust or just a superficial infatuation, I can attest that it is a real phenomenon. And while magnetic attraction is not a sufficient condition for a successful, committed relationship (it may not even be a necessary one), it does play a meaningful role in the human mating cycle, and the associated feelings can bring joy and pleasure to a person even in the absence of reciprocation, as is the case when you crush on a celebrity whom you will probably never even meet. Indeed, that distance can serve as a kind of protective barrier, creating a playing field in which one can explore their feelings one-sided, free from the logistics of an actual relationship, and without risk of heartbreak (or any real threat to existing partners, provided a mature foundation of trust). Sure, sometimes people can take it too far, but that doesn't mean it's not healthy the rest of the time.

All of which is to say, there have been a lot of celebrities that I have found attractive (as is true of most people, I think), but having a crush implies somewhat of an obsession - usually with consuming the media they appear in, and/or investing in merchandising associated with them. And there are different levels of crushing, too. I have certainly had more crushes than I am about to list (like, can I really include Freya Allan, just because she's the perfect representation of my type - she's named after the Norse goddess of love, by the way - even though I've only ever seen her in The Witcher? [and yes, this parenthetical phrase exists just so I can link a picture of her intoxicating beauty]), but I've tried to focus on the most intense or longest lasting ones, that have made the strongest impression on my life, while also filling a convenient 9 square grid. Also, I'm excluding cartoon characters (because that's a whole different arena) - although it's worth mentioning that I had a humongous boyhood crush on Ariel from The Little Mermaid (the least dressed of all the Disney Princesses - unless slave Leia from Return of the Jedi counts now :-p).

Shall we get on with it, then?

Liv Tyler - Daughter of rock royalty, this had to be one of my earliest celebrity crushes, because I actually forgot that I used to crush on her! I think it's safe to say that seeing her portray Arwen in Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy made a strong impression on me (I have a thing for elves). I feel like Ms. Tyler set the trend for my celebrity crushes, because I still have an old folder of modeling pics I searched out online (in an era long before Instagram was ever dreamed up); and in researching her past roles, I discovered the intoxicating (and often erotic) world of independent arthouse films, via a Bernardo Bertolucci picture (Stealing Beauty) starring Jeremy Irons - in which she appears topless!

Mischa Barton - I suppose most people who have heard of Mischa Barton know her from The OC (which I actually haven't seen), but I discovered her before she ever appeared on that show. My heart broke for her in Lost and Delirious, a story of spoilt innocence and doomed romance at an all girls' boarding school. By no means mainstream, I had fun tracking down her other coming-of-age movies: including the cult favorite Lawn Dogs, in which she forges an unlikely friendship with Sam Rockwell; the gritty Pups, in which an ill-considered bank robbery is foiled by Burt Reynolds; and Frankie and Hazel, in which she rebels against gender norms as a ballerina who dreams of playing baseball.

Michelle Trachtenberg - Aside from Eurotrip (which was a fun movie), and her adorable turn as Harriet The Spy, I never really went on a hunt for this actress' other roles, like I usually do with my celebrity crushes, but the extent of my obsession with her was apparent from the moment she turned up on Buffy the Vampire Slayer as Buffy's (surprise!) bratty little sister Dawn, radiating teen angst. Other Buffy fans I've talked to have told me they hated her and thought she was annoying, but that didn't stop me from harvesting an indecent amount of screencaps (I'd be truly embarrassed to tell you the number) for my computer's screensaver at the time (this was before we all started using static lock screens). You could say my obsession with her was not as broad, but it was pretty deep for a while.

Dakota Fanning - My gold standard for celebrity crushes. When I first saw Dakota in War of the Worlds, she failed to make an impression on me. But then, she was just a kid given little to do besides run around screaming while aliens destroyed the world. When she later snagged the role of Cherie Currie in the Runaways biopic (alongside Kristen Stewart's Joan Jett), I stood up and took notice. I hadn't realized what an accomplished actress she already was, but I made a concerted effort to educate myself. From her breakout role on I Am Sam (opposite Sean Penn) at the age of seven, to the dark coming of age drama Hounddog, in which she filmed a rape scene at the age of twelve (depicted with considerable restraint, mind you), this was a precocious child star with a maturity beyond her young years. I was beyond impressed.

Elle Fanning - Originally scoring bit parts as an age-regressed version of her older sister Dakota's characters in various movies, Elle eventually broke out on her own as an actress, in a career that mirrors her sister's, with slightly more of a focus on "artsy" projects. Some of her more memorable roles include her first starring role at the age of nine, in a serious drama about a child with Tourette Syndrome (Phoebe in Wonderland), and Nicolas Winding Refn's at times surreal and Argento-esque voyage into the nightmarish dreamscape of the west coast modeling scene (The Neon Demon). Elle has even played a Disney princess! Albeit in a movie that was designed to showcase the villain (Maleficent), and not the princess (Aurora - a.k.a. Sleeping Beauty). More lately, she's been doing an amazing job as Catherine on the Hulu series The Great. It could just be my own focus, but as Dakota has scaled back her media presence, it seems to me that Elle has stepped to the forefront in her stead.

Chloe Grace Moretz - You probably remember her as the violent, trash-talking, wannabe superhero schoolgirl Hit-Girl in Kick-Ass (and its sequel). But she has a long list of horror and sci-fi credits to her name, if few of them have had the clout to propel her to A-list status. Nevertheless, as a little kid she starred in the remake of The Amityville Horror, as well as one of AfterDark Horrorfest's 8 Films To Die For (Wicked Little Things), and appeared alongside a pre-Winter's Bone (not to mention The Hunger Games) Jennifer Lawrence in a gritty drama about a single mother slash prostitute (The Poker House). She starred as Carrie in the Stephen King remake, fought off an alien apocalypse in The Fifth Wave, and more recently tackled alternate reality in The Peripheral. But it was Chloe's penchant for challenging, mature-for-her-age roles that initially captured my interest, from the American remake of the dark Swedish vampire romance Let Me In, to a serial killer drama about the Texas Killing Fields, and the hard-boiled coming-of-age road trip that is Hick. It's always a thrill to hear about what she's working on next.

Emma Watson - Not usually one to jump on the bandwagon, I was late to the Harry Potter fandom. I'm a huge fan now, thanks to my brother's recommendation of the books - and a spontaneous dream I had about Emma Watson, whom I recall catching my eye via sporadic scenes on TV from as early as The Prisoner of Azkaban (the movie in which she stripped off her house robe to reveal her blossoming attributes). For a long time before I finally sat down to watch the movies (in the year of the final one's release), I knew it was going to be Emma's natural beauty and charisma that would rope me in. Growing up through eight Harry Potter movies is admittedly a hard act to follow, but Emma shines in everything she does - including being the second actress on this list to star as a Disney princess! (This time it's Belle from Beauty and the Beast). I also enjoyed her participation in the true story dramatization of the Hollywood Hills burglaries, The Bling Ring. Behind the scenes Emma portrays sophistication, intelligence, and high fashion, while championing the cause of feminism. And I'll be honest, I love that posh British accent.

Miley Cyrus - I've written about this elsewhere [NSFW], but I'll summarize the highlights. Initially annoyed by all the merchandising for Hannah Montana, when Miley ended her relationship with Disney, and entered her rebellious teenage phase, I started to take notice. Shooting implied nudes for Annie Leibovitz; rumors of dancing on stage around a stripper pole; singing about liberty and individuality on the album Can't Be Tamed. When she posed unabashedly naked for Marc Jacobs to raise awareness for skin cancer, starred equally (un)dressed in the music video for smash hit Wrecking Ball, and then humped a foam finger while twerking on stage in flesh-colored underwear during the MTV VMAs, I was entranced by her confident, sex-positive attitude. A lot of what she does turns people off, but it's performance art. And this world needs more strong women willing to unapologetically embrace and take ownership of their sexuality. She's not just beautiful and talented, she's also kind, and a vocal supporter of LGBT rights. And though she produces pop music (helping me to break through the barrier and appreciate new genres), she's also covered some of my favorite bands in concert (including Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd). People are still surprised by it, but what Hannah sung all those years ago is true - "[she] really [is] a rock star."

Jordyn Jones - Being my latest obsession, who I've not just written about before, but recently, I should be able to skip a lot of the details. I've been aware of her for probably the better part of the last decade, and was an instant fan of her early music videos, which apply a cute, girly aesthetic to hip hop. Then for a while I was only really aware of her as a popular Instagram model, until my recent Dance Moms obsession brought her back into focus (via Abby's Ultimate Dance Competition). Seeing that she's released a ton of songs and videos on Youtube, as well as more recently started a podcast, I fell down the rabbit hole of her social media presence, absorbing just about everything she's done in the public eye that I can get my hands on. I stan Jordyn because she's pretty, talented, projects confidence, and has such a cheerful and bubbly personality (which is a nice counterbalance to my own characteristically gloomy demeanor).

No Sympathy

Moving out to the country has involved a lot of cultural adjustment. One thing I picked up on when reading the Kinsey studies, that I've found to be accurate, is that although some parents worry that sending their kids to college will open them up to more sexually liberated attitudes, the hard fact is that people out in the country (who are statistically poorer, and less educated) have more sex more freely, and at younger ages. It's something that we sometimes forget in our civilized society (and it certainly wasn't something I was ever taught, attending one of the best-rated high schools in the country), but teenagers are programmed to have sex. It's a natural law.

Look, I understand hormones. I challenge you to find somebody who's more sex-positive than I am. But we're not just animals. Our intellect is what separates us from the beasts of the field. I have little respect for teenagers who go around spraying and praying without using the tools we've developed for ourselves to enjoy sex with fewer life-changing consequences, only to inevitably end up in dire straits. How am I supposed to sympathize with their plight, when they lack the common decency to put off their own immediate gratification in deference to those of us who have had to struggle more than half our lives, in some cases, to even find companionship with the opposite sex?

I know it's not really their fault. They aren't taught the things they need to know, and they're not given the resources they need to win the battle against their own evolutionary instincts. We live in a backwards, regressive culture that glorifies ignorance and demonizes science. And it's a vicious cycle where parents make poor, impulsive decisions, and then teach their kids (against their own intentions) to make the exact same mistakes they made. And so it goes, on and on.

I know it's easy for me to say this, standing here on the outside, but if missing out on a normal life imbues me with any advantages, it should be this. All you need to break the cycle is the awareness that you're in a cycle, that the cycle isn't doing you any favors, that there's something outside of that cycle, and that you CAN step outside of the cycle. All you need is the will to do it. But I don't know how to impart this knowledge to someone who thinks they're invulnerable and already all-knowing, and who treats any form of perspective as insidious "lecturing", before which they suddenly and invariably suffer a temporary bout of acute deafness.

Fine. I get it. The kids are alright. Figure it out for yourself. But don't expect me to have sympathy when you crash into the brick wall I've been trying to warn you about all these years.