Hey there, readers. Yes, unfortunately this is me announcing another small delay. I’m having oral surgery this week, which means a lot of pain and swelling loopy painkillers. It also, unfortunately, means I’ll be in no shape to recap Gankutsuou this week (and also that today’s post was postponed due to travel considerations to GET to the future mouth mutilation).
I’m going to try my very best to at least get y’all a Gravity Falls post tomorrow and potentially Friday – after all your kind support, it wouldn’t do for me not to give you some kind of content this week. Thanks again for your patience, and I’ll see you on the other side.
The intro is here.
Je sais ce que tu as fait l’été dernier.
I think those scheduling woes might be catching.
Part Three: We Have to Name a New Complex for This Level of Dysfunction
When last we left our deeply dysfunctional vampires, Lestat had dramatically told Louis that he simply couldn’t leave – what about their child? The little five year old near-plague victim that Lestat turned an hour ago? You can’t leave now, Louis! Your family needs you!
This can only end well.
In light of the tragedy in Orlando, I hope you’ll forgive the small change of pace.
I finished a piece recently about my hometown: about its culture of silence, and the muffled cries of queerness and mental illness struggling to survive under that suffocating grasp. An acquaintance of mine was editing it and of everything we discussed, this stuck with me: “It’s sort of an angry piece.”
She didn’t mean it as a criticism, but my first instinct was shock. I’ve never thought of myself as an angry person. I am quiet in public. I avoid conflict with a deftness Aaron Burr would be proud of. I hold back, and I convinced myself that meant the anger wasn’t there.
Today, I am angry.
The intro is here.
Neo-France’s weather has an excellent sense of dramatic timing.
This post was commissioned by Frank Hecker. You can find out more about commissions here.
Back in 2010, a certain segment of anime fandom was abuzz with arguments over whether Black Swan was a rip-off of Satoshi Kon’s 1997 film Perfect Blue – think the Battle Royale/Hunger Games debate, but for the Very Serious Art Film crowd. It’s no secret that Aronofsky is a fan of Kon’s work (witness this direct homage in Requiem for a Dream, just for starters), and the two films do share, on a basic level, an identical premise: a young artist seeking to advance her career, previously shackled by her image as a “pure” object, takes on a demanding and very sexual role; the strain of this choice and outside factors causes a breakdown in the artist’s psyche, including persistent images of being stalked by a doppelganger of her “other” self.