music for your post-apocalyptic joyride down the interstate
—> while the asphalt crumbles beneath your tires and thunder rolls through the cloudless sky abovesave yourself, I’ll hold them back - my chemical romance // lovecraft in brooklyn - the mountain goats // knights of cydonia - muse // can’t catch tomorrow (good shoes won’t save you this time) - lostprophets // paralyzed - the used // merchant of death - ramin djawadi // want it back - amanda palmer & the grand theft orchestra // kings and queens - thirty seconds to mars
also the other day i read meta that said we should be grateful for the “”“positive”“” queer “”“representation”“” on spn because we should keep in mind that queer people are not spn’s target demographic
to which i say
fuck you
queer people are nerds too
be ashamed for trying to contextualize and define sci-fi/horror geek/nerd-dom as cishet and white.
especially since those genres—horror especially—are known for propagating, building up, and perpetuating systems of oppression.
people would rather give spn hypothetical cookies for not “being as bad as it could be”
would rather try to justify their favorites because they don’t want to straight up admit that spn canon is problematic as they try to make spn’s grossness more palatable with the excuse of “well you’re not their target demographic so”
well isn’t that the fucking problem???
i am so fucking tired of reading spn meta that treats people’s feelings and regards towards each other like the laws of physics—that just because two bits of matter can’t occupy the same place then that goes for relationships too
well it is possible to love more than one person
it is possible to create unique and complex and significant bonds between more than one person
it is possible to use the same word to describe those bonds even if it doesn’t mean quite the same thing
and this whole fucking idea that oh no this person means more to this person than that person is fucking exhausting to read
sub =/= bottom
dom =/= top
thank you
have a good night


Dexys Midnight Runners- Come on Eileen


goddammit kat
this had been stick in my head for… longer than it should get stuck in anyone’s head
especially if they’re trying to walk about in public and be in the presence of other people
grumblegrumblegrumble
sexophone
otp charlie/becky loading
loading
loading
loading complete
dangerous levels of shipping acquired
or, personal meta on rejecting flawed canon.
(title from Siken’s “Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out”)The stories that I tend to be drawn to in a fannish sense are also stories which tend to have technical flaws and, relatedly, really Not Okay things happening in them: stories where the creators got so distracted including shiny big explosions or sticking to an increasingly irrelevant theme or whatever that they lost track of their protagonists’ moral compasses; stories which were written by people whose own opinions and experiences got stamped over what they were trying to tell.
These are stories which sometimes contain things which are really not okay, and in a meta context criticism of those things is incredibly important. But—I don’t want to be limited within the characters’ stories by the flaws of the creators, even as I’m discussing those flaws in a meta space. And in my opinion—to me personally—accepting the canon that is handed to me, unquestioningly, is a limitation. It’s preventing the characters from ever transcending their creators’ biases, personal and narrative.
I want them to be better than that.
I am the wind and the wind is invisible, all the leaves tremble but I am invisible, blackbird over the dark field but I am invisible, what fills the balloon and what it moves through, knot without rope, bloom without flower, galloping without the horse, the spirit of the thing without the thing, location without dimension, without a within, song without throat, word without ink, wingless flight, dark boat in the dark night, shine without light, pure velocity, as the hammer is a hammer when it hits the nail and the nail is a nail when it meets the wood and the invisible table begins to appear out of mind, pure mind, out of nothing, pure thinking, hand of the mind, hand of the emperor, arm of the empire, void and vessel, sheath and shear, and wider, and deeper, more vast, more sure, through silence, through darkness, a vector, a violence, and even farther, and even worse, between, before, behind, and under, and even stronger, and even further, beyond form, beyond number, I labor, I lumber, I fumble forward through the valley as winter, as water, a shift in the river, I mist and frost, flexible and elastic to the task, a fountain of gravity, space curves around me, I thirst, I hunger, I spark, I burn, force and field, force and counterforce, agent and agency, push to your pull, parabola of will, massless mass and formless form, dreamless dream and nameless name, intent and rapturous, rare and inevitable, I am the thing that is hurtling towards you.
“The Love Song of the Square Root of Minus One”, Richard Siken