bisexual people passing as straight when they’re in a straight relationship is not “passing privilege.” it’s erasure. it’s assimilation.
that’s like saying that femme lesbians have privilege over butch lesbians. invisibility might keep people safer on a micro-level which is fucked up, but it’s all based on people thinking they can tell who’s queer & who’s straight just by looking at them, which is infinitely problematic and painful.
don’t alienate queer people who are assumed to be straight. invisibility is a symptom of hetero-normativity, not a privilege.
if yr a nontransitioning person you get to be genderweird and it’s cool because you don’t have to jump through medical hoops, don’t have to prove you’re ‘really’ changing genders, etc.
there are a ton of trans women (and trans men) with genderweird histories/identities but you don’t see us talk about that shit much because we’ve got so much trauma around people using any possible reason to invalidate us, deny us medical care, block our transitions, etc. we live in a historical context where people have been prevented from transitioning at every turn and we know it, so we learn to shut up about our gender feelings that don’t fit the narrative
for me and a lot of transitioned people, genderqueerness/complex gender feelings will never be something we can talk about publicly without risking our safety or access to medical care, or at the very least, giving people reasons to see us as ‘not really’ who we say we are
'Under the Tories, our very survival is a radical act. Each breath we draw is an affront to them, and each sound we make chips away a little more.'
We could talk about this election until the whole country falls into the sea as it rightly deserves, but there are more pressing things to address.
I hate to go all Sorting Hat on you, but things are probably going to get very bad, and we need to pull together. What we’re going to need is a lot of fucking solidarity to get through the next five years.
The real politics isn’t in the murderers at Westminster, but it’s the little things close to home, the things we need to do to survive, the things we shouldn’t have to.
Check in regularly with vulnerable people: those of us who are disabled, those who are migrants, the young and the elderly, those who find the means of survival ripped away. Resist, loudly, the lies and the blame thrown towards those of us who find ourselves suddenly much more open to attack. Help those around you to survive as much as you can, and do not be afraid to ask for help yourself.
Let’s try to recentre the discourse, and challenge the narratives that got us here. Let’s build our own power outside of Westminster, in our communities, in our homes, and yes, out on the streets, too.
They succeeded because they made their victims into scapegoats. It is absolutely crucial that we reverse this by any means necessary.
Under the Tories, our very survival is a radical act. Each breath we draw is an affront to them, and each sound we make chips away a little more.
so we have a conversational safeword in my group of friends and it’s great, idk why more people don’t do this. whenever someone wants a subject to be dropped immediately no questions asked we just say “spleen” and we stop immediately and it’s a really good way to avoid crossing the line between teasing friends and genuinely upsetting them by accident, or stopping debates from turning into actual arguments
I got this bag of potato snacks - on it was a character that reminded me of royalboiler‘s blobby cartoon persona (blobsona?), who is often depicted enjoying a leisurely lifestyle. I’ve been wanting to draw some scenes from a lazy, cozy day - so here’s a little sketch.
This is the best. all of my highest aspirations for a day are in that drawing
Edmonton has gone almost completely orange. Not a single PC was elected.
Not to steal your moment, Canada, but may I please borrow you as an object lesson for our General Election tomorrow? Anyone who thinks that voting is a waste of time because things never change, please just look at this.
Please do. This is a direct example of younger voters making change. The Conservative party had a noose on Alberta for 44 years. The NDP hadn’t had a viable party in Alberta since 1986. Now, in a single election, they run the province with a majority government of 53 out of 70 seats.
“With voters who were polled in the 18 to 34 years of age range, there was a stronger affinity to the NDP party.“The challenge with that voter block is that they don’t come out in the same numbers as the voter blocks that are older than them,” said Duncan. “So when you’ve got 46 per cent of that age group saying they’re going to vote NDP, can you count on them to show up at the polls? Maybe, maybe not.”” – Source
This time, they did, and in one night they changed the face of not just a single province, but the overall trajectory of our country.
VOTE. It matters.
THIS is why older conservatives pooh-pooh younger people speaking about politics and pat them on the head and tell them they’re too young to understand or remember past political fuck-ups. Because they’re a FORCE and they need to be gaslighted or shouted down into apathy and inaction.
If younger voters are “too young to [blah blah blah]” then surely older voters are “too old to have to deal with the consequences of the vote”. If young people gotta live through the future, it’s entirely their right to be heard about it and its issues.
I remember the feeling I had when we voted in Elizabeth May as a Green party leader in our riding. She now has a foothold to be a voice for her party and for women in the House, which is pretty cool.
Things don’t have to stay the same as they’ve always been. In fact, they shouldn’t.
before today, i hadn’t heard of “rough rides,” and there’s a good chance you haven’t either. basically, a “rough ride” is a horrifying process in which ‘a handcuffed man or woman is put into the back of a police van or paddy wagon, without being buckled in or secured. The vehicle then drives recklessly, making sharp, dangerous turns and sudden movements in ways that throw the passenger violently around the vehicle.’
here’s the evidence: rather than take Freddie Gray the short 2 minute drive from the arrest site to the police station (see left), he was deliberately driven recklessly for over 40 minutes (see right) around Baltimore, handcuffed and in the back of a police van, with no seatbelt, until his spine broke.
the terrifying thing is that this seems to happen a lot. earlier today, two more people came forward to testify that they were put through rough rides at the hands of the Baltimore PD. a 43-year-old man was charged with ‘public urination’ and given a rough ride that resulted in a spine fracture that rendered him quadriplegic for the rest of his life. five years ago, a former Baltimore police officer admitted that rough rides are an “unsanctioned technique” in which police vans are driven to cause “injury or pain” to unbuckled, handcuffed detainees. rough rides are very much a Real Thing.
in case it needs repeating: Baltimore police deliberately drove recklessly with a cuffed, injured Freddie Gray in the back of a van with no belt – a 40 minute ride for a destination 2 minutes away. his spine was severed, and it killed him.
Y doesn’t understand why X is breastfeeding her new bike. Y goes home and starts research digital breastmilk distribution websites and gets a wacky idea. Meanwhile her sexy neighbor is masturbating just an apartment away. Y is completely unaware and this has no effect on her life. Z comes back from her vacation feeling crushed and humiliated by the unknown events that transpired at the lake. X and Y are worried about her but quickly forget as Z suppresses her feelings in order to fit in with her healthier better-socialized group of friends.
'I was also harassed at the Allied Media Conference of 2013, after my abusers overheard me asking about resources for vulnerable trans people in Oakland. I was harassed by phone, online, and in person. The harassment became so relentless that I had to call AMC security. To their credit they worked with me and helped make it safer for me to come back next year.'
!!!
Recently there’s been some talk about the reasons for me not appearing in that book related to Twine. I wasn’t going to comment on it until the editor issued a false statement that claimed to speak for me.
There are two reasons for my absence from that project, and the queer game scene in general:
1) I was abused and coerced for several years, beginning from when I started making games, when I had just gone on hormones. My abusers behavior included yelling, gaslighting, isolating me, monitoring my bathroom use, sexually harassing me, harassment online, in person, and by phone, medical neglect, modifying my work, goading me when I was suicidal, and pressuring me to cover/not cover art by other trans fems when I worked as a curator.
I was also harassed at the Allied Media Conference of 2013, after my abusers overheard me asking about resources for vulnerable trans people in Oakland. I was harassed by phone, online, and in person. The harassment became so relentless that I had to call AMC security. To their credit they worked with me and helped make it safer for me to come back next year.
When I privately asked for the abuse to stop, I was kicked out of my housing, which my abusers controlled. Shortly afterward I was publicly attacked and smeared with transphobic rhetoric in order to discredit me from talking about what happened to me. I was called crazy, and my abuse as a child was invoked to support this idea. Nearly everyone turned their back on me and threw me under the bus in order to protect the “community leaders” involved. I was never asked for my side of the story.
I was ostracized at a time when I was most vulnerable. Many people have told me that they are afraid to share my games because of what happened to me, something that impacts me as an independent artist and as a trans fem. My friends were also targeted and discouraged from making games.
On multiple occasions I asked for mediation, and said I would do anything to make it stop. This was refused on every occasion, because the purpose was to exile a victim, not repair a community. The people who did this are deeply manipulative people who have spent their careers lying, stealing creative work from other trans people, preying on vulnerable and young trans people, and using psychological violence to make their victims disappear.
2) Years later I was approached by people involved with the project. I attempted to set my feelings aside and agreed to discuss the project if there was a mediation. I asked for the harassment to stop, for my career to stop being interfered with, and for my friends to be left alone. I was responded to with victim blaming and the implication that I would never be welcome in my field, that the blacklist would continue. All of my concerns were ignored, as if what I wrote hadn’t even been read. It seemed like I was expected to recant and pretend that the last several years of my life had never happened.
So it would be more accurate to say that I was prevented from participating, and my contributions to Twine were deliberately erased. There was never a good faith attempt to involve me, it was just a pretext so people could say they tried.
*
I have spent the last several years suffering from PTSD. It impairs my daily life with chronic fatigue, headaches, muscle tics, nightmares, dissociation, suicidality, and panic attacks. Many things related to my job trigger these symptoms. This is what I go to therapy for.
I was trapped with those feelings for a very long time, with no way to vent or process my emotions. I also had to provide for myself and support my friends. It was extremely hard to be isolated all those years. I had no safety net, no school or workplace or family to fall back on. I was very close to being another name on a list.
It’s difficult for me to talk about this. There’s been a lot of pressure and shaming against me to not share my experiences and be frank about the realities of being a trans fem artist. But I understand now that the only way I can recover from PTSD is to talk about my experiences and live in the world again.
I was a scared, vulnerable young trans girl, who was taught that she didn’t have the right to say no, or the right to make games, or the right to take up space.
I can’t change what happened to me, but my silence would only allow it to happen to others. I think this is something that has also happened to other people who survived queer/alternative communities and tech/games related jobs, but is rarely talked about.
I have no control over who uses Twine, but abuse is unacceptable. Any scene that enables those things means nothing to me. Twine is only useful as much as it helps people, not as a symbol that becomes more important than the people involved.
I’m not a machine for generating work that can be “important” and separated from me as a person, to dignify a field that mistreats me. I have a physical body that needs food and housing and social space. All of me is worth protecting and loving.
This isn’t up for debate, or for the harmful cycles of posturing and rhetoric that characterize the places I left behind. I am not good at politics. I like to make things, which is why I make so many of them instead of using my platform to attack other people. I am trying very hard to be happy. Thank you.
'It was the deafening quiet in mainstream society around this crisis that prompted the founding of No More Silence in Toronto, Ontario over 10 years ago. I was approached by Barbara Williams, a white woman ally, and we formed the coalition in 2004. Having lived and worked in Vancouver’s downtown eastside in the late 90s when serial killer, Robert Picton, was on his rampage, I was inspired by the many grannies and aunties who had been working in the Women’s Memorial March organizing committee since 1991.'
A coalition of women human rights defenders
in Canada is demanding an end to state complicity, and a culture of impunity in
the genocidal violence against Indigenous women, girls, and two-spirited
people.
Canada is not often seen as a place where
widespread human rights violations against the Indigenous population occur on a
regular basis. Much of the international community’s perception of this country
is still that of pristine nature and polite inhabitants with health care.
In fact Canada’s Indigenous population is
over policed and under protected, both men and women are over incarcerated at
rates much higher than the non-Indigenous population and face police violence
and deaths in custody all too often. But our own mainstream media is finally no
longer able to ignore one of this settler-colonial project’s best-kept secrets:
ongoing genocidal violence against the Indigenous population - and more
specifically the targeting of Indigenous women, girls, trans and two-spirited
people.
Never before has the
issue of missing and murdered Indigenous women commanded public and media
attention to the degree that it has in the last year with demands for a
national inquiry coming from multiple actors: community leaders, family members
of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls, as well as opposition
parties. Various reports from national and international human rights
organizations have cast light on the complicity of Canadian police and not only
their failure to adequately prevent and protect indigenous women and girls from
killings, disappearances and extreme forms of violence, but also to investigate
and solve these crimes and in some instances be themselves the perpetrators of
the violence.
In February 2013, Human
Rights Watch, a US based human rights group, released its alarming report
on the relationship of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and Indigenous women
and girls in Northern BC, entitled, Those Who Take
Us Away: Abusive Policing and Failures
in Protection of Indigenous Women and Girls in Northern British Columbia,
Canada. Some of the examples of human
rights violations committed by members of this national police force in towns
across the north documented include: pepper-spraying and tasering of young
girls, strip-searches by male officers, a 17-year-old punched repeatedly by an officer
who had been called to help her; a 12-year-old attacked by a police dog and
injured due to excessive force used during arrest. “Human Rights Watch heard
disturbing allegations of rape and sexual assault by RCMP officers, including
from a woman who described how in July 2012 police officers took her outside of
town, raped her, and threatened to kill her if she told anyone”.
In 2014, after Dr.
Maryanne Pearce shared research she had gathered over a 7-year period entitled
an Awkward Silence, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police released their won National Operational
Review report on the issue of "Missing and Murdered Aboriginal
Women". They put
the numbers of murdered Indigenous women between 1980 and 2012 at 1,017, and
cited another 164 as missing under suspicious circumstances, with some cases
dating back to 1952. Activists and community members believe these numbers to
be low and point out that inadequate tracking of ethnicity of victims and
problems with RCMP methodology in identifying Indigeneity, indicate that many
women would not have been recognized as such.
While Indigenous women make up only 4.3 % of the total female population, they
represent 16 % of all female homicide victims over more than three decades
according to the report.
More recently, the
Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR), which is affiliated with the
Organization of American States, also weighed in publishing a damning 127-page report
in January 2015 that named police failure and systemic discrimination against
Canada’s Indigenous community as contributing to the plight of missing or
murdered indigenous women, and that poverty is at the root of the violence.
This scrutiny on the
part of international organizations goes back to the grassroots organizing
efforts of community groups in the country in particular in British Colombia
that have been working to raise awareness on the issue for over 25 years.
It was the deafening quiet in
mainstream society around this crisis that prompted the founding of No More Silence in Toronto,
Ontario over 10 years ago. I was approached by Barbara Williams,
a white woman ally, and we formed the coalition in 2004. Having lived and
worked in Vancouver’s downtown eastside in the late 90s when serial killer,
Robert Picton, was on his rampage, I was inspired by the many grannies and
aunties who had been working in the Women’s Memorial March
organizing committee since 1991. The march affords an opportunity for the
community to come together and grieve while holding ceremony at the sites where
women were killed or disappeared from. When Picton, who had been arrested and
released in 1997 and had then gone on to kill 18 more women, was facing trial
on 33 murder charges, the Toronto group began to hold a ceremony on February 14th
at police headquarters in solidarity with the Vancouver march, and to point out
that serial killers like Picton are far from aberrations and that state
complicity - and a culture of impunity - are real and ongoing factors in this
crisis. We understand the violence to be rooted in ongoing colonization, land
theft and termination policies. The same attitudes that prioritize destruction
of the land and natural environments to facilitate resource extraction are at
the heart of the racism and sexism that result in the deaths and
disappearances.
Our first call stated: "On February 14th we will come
together in solidarity with the women who started this vigil 15 years ago in
Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, and with the marches and rallies that will be
taking place across this land. We stand in defense of our lives and to
demonstrate against the complicity of the state in the ongoing genocide of
Indigenous women and the impunity of state institutions and actors (police,
RCMP, coroners’ offices, the courts, and an indifferent federal government)
that prevents justice for all Indigenous peoples."
February 14th Strawberry Ceremony for missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, trans and two-spirit. Photo: Peter Kernaghan
No More Silence chooses to be at police headquarters in
order to highlight the impunity that Canada affords killers of poor and
marginalized women – women not deemed worthy of state protection, and
Indigenous women who are targets of the genocidal policies inherent to a
settler state.
"We do not ask for the state’s permission in doing so
and instead honour the sovereignty of the Indigenous peoples that have shared
the caretaking responsibilities of this land for thousands of years. Family
members are given the opportunity to share and Wanda Whitebird (Bear Clan and
member of the Mi’kmag Nation) leads the community in a strawberry and water
ceremony. No More Silence chooses to practice ceremony in honouring our missing
sisters both as an act of love for those who are gone and those who remain
behind to mourn as well as an assertion of sovereignty."
The Canadian government
has consistently refused demands for a public inquiry, which would acknowledge
the gravity of the crisis. An inquiry or commission could at the very least
establish a public record, and if led and informed by family members and
Indigenous women themselves, examine more than the root causes that are already
known but go a step further and shed light on why the almost 700
recommendations made on this subject in over 40 reports have not been
implemented. More importantly, however, in my view is the need of family
members for answers in unsolved cases. The under-investigation and police
negligence in their duty of care needs to be revealed for what it is, and can
only be done so if records are shared.
All of us in No
More Silence are well aware that the violence inherent to settler colonialism
will only end with decolonization and thus prioritize community capacity and
relationship building to this end. Collaborating with the Native Youth Sexual Health Network
and Families of Sisters
In Spirit we have created a community-led database. Read more about
our values here.
'I’ve fallen into that self-perpetuating loop where I can’t motivate myself to accomplish anything because I feel bad about myself – which causes me to feel bad about myself because I’m not accomplishing anything.'
I feel like this every single day.
Today I finished a game that I started almost two years ago.
It’s not that I’d been working on this game for two years straight – I just started it two years ago and finished it today.
–
In the summer of 2013, I was going through a bit of a rough patch – I had just moved out of the apartment I had lived in for three years, and, with that, had ended an eight year long relationship. There were a lot of things changing in my life, and I wasn’t particularly coping well.
I created the prototype of this game one day while feeling particularly down and exhausted, then found a young pixel artist on twitter who was interested in making a few small assets for the game (my, how things changes in two years)
Soon after Andrew delivered the initial assets for the game, things started looking up for me. I began to cope with my life changes a little better, and started feeling a little less exhausted. Basically, I didn’t have to pretend to be okay all the time anymore.
Since then, I had revisited the project a number of times trying to find the motivation to take it beyond the initial prototype phase. However, every time I opened it up, it just didn’t feel right. I wasn’t in the same place, mentally, as I was back then, and it felt dishonest to work on this while feeling so good.
–
Things have been generally amazing for me since then, but, as always, there are ups and downs.
For the last month or so, I’ve felt as though I’ve had no direction. I’m not doing Game a Week anymore, I was without contract work for a few months, and my personal project is at a state where things simply feel like they’re not progressing.
I’ve noticed myself becoming increasingly physically lethargic over the last few weeks, losing interest in many of the activities that I enjoy on a daily basis and largely becoming apathetic towards the things happening on around me. I seem to have lost my passion for speaking at conferences, traveling to new places, going outside, etc etc. It was a gradual change, so I didn’t quite notice it right away, but it’s definitely there.
I’ve fallen into that self-perpetuating loop where I can’t motivate myself to accomplish anything because I feel bad about myself – which causes me to feel bad about myself because I’m not accomplishing anything.
–
Today, I was finally able to revisit the game that I had started back in the summer of 2013. There’s not a lot of gameplay and it’s not particularly fancy, but it was the first game I ever made where I was able to accurately convey a specific feeling of mine.
It was incredibly cathartic to finally take this game a step forward, and I feel like I’ve gained a little more closure on that chapter of my life. I thought about this game often over the last two years, and I was fairly certain that it would never be finished.
It didn’t take me two years to make this game in the traditional sense, but I’ve definitely put two years of my life into it.
'I have a tattoo on my back shoulder that uses several objects from Oglala Lakota culture. I’ve thought about mitigating my dislike of it with another tattoo that reads “19 year old white guys don’t understand cultural appropriation,”'
I'm still not sure if we should play Never Alone together. What do you think?
Every Wednesday in high school I went out to do community service that the campus ministry of my Catholic high school facilitated. We would go to nursing homes, care facilities, and homeless shelters, work for a few hours, and return to the comforts of our middle class homes. Every year there would be service trips to different parts of the US, Mexico, and some other places. I went on a few of them: one to West Virginia, the other to the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota.
We went, worked for a few days, listened to and learned from the people living there, and came back to our lives in suburban Massachusetts. I won’t deny that these were formative experiences for me, but how I have viewed those experiences have drastically changed as I’ve gotten older.
I have a tattoo on my back shoulder that uses several objects from Oglala Lakota culture. I’ve thought about mitigating my dislike of it with another tattoo that reads “19 year old white guys don’t understand cultural appropriation,” but there is a part of me that remembers and misses the high schooler that put it together. He was generous in more accepted ways, offering up his time to work in different places. But he was also naive and ignorant of the things he was doing (and, generally, still is).
When I got the tattoo it was to remember to continue community service. Seven years later, I see it as a reminder that the closeness that I felt during that work was not a closeness to the actual community, but a false connection that developed out of the power I had to pick up whenever I wanted to. There were others that would stay in these places for years on end, engaging with the issues and joys of the community. There were even more that couldn’t leave. I was more of an empathetic tourist. Most of the feelings I had ended when I got on the plane or van to return.
This is why I’m afraid of Never Alone, a game made in conjunction with the Iñupiat people of Alaska and Northwestern Canada. It follows the story of Nuna, who has gone out from her village to restore order that a terrible man and forces of nature have disrupted. You can switch characters with your companion, a white fox, to solve platform puzzles and work with the spirits that inhabit the lands. Gameplay is paired with collectible documentary clips, known in-game as cultural insights, that explain various aspects of Iñupiat culture. If you want to know more about the game, Eurogamer published an excellent review of it that ignored the slight mechanical issues others had harped on.
OK. I’m not very afraid of Never Alone, but I’m afraid of myself playing it.
I’m afraid that Never Alone is like that weeklong trip I took to Pine Ridge. I feel like I’ve done a few hours of work and have gone back to my comforts, but I’m not sure about what comes next – if anything. I fear that like the tattoo that I have, I, or other players, will quickly allow the experience of this game to be reduced down to objects that we can easily pick up and examine, removed from their context. I fear that other players will look at it and boil down the Iñupiat to scrimshaw and caribou-skin clothes. I fear this because I’ve personally done it before, albeit with different experiences and outcomes.
I fear that the game facilitates it, with its dissected and separated cultural insights. I fear that the relationship to nature is something that could be taken holistically so quickly and so easily that players might make lazy assumptions. Since the game is manifested as a fantasy, I fear that any struggle we see of the game is one that is tied to nature and not understood as possible products of various systems of dominance. All but one of the cultural insights is a discussion of positive aspects of Iñupiat life (the one exclusion being a discussion of a climate change seemingly without cause). These are the first things that my own brand of criticism puts forth.
This fear is a double-edged sword though. While it might highlight everything that could go wrong, it also shields me from experiencing much of the joy that is in this game. Sure, I still felt the thrill of conquering the challenges when the degree of difficulty ramped up towards the end. I found pleasure in the narrator regularly speaking over my actions in Iñupiat. The visuals made me feel like the world I was put into was alive.
However, these things quickly dissipated once I moved from experiencing them to thinking about the game as a range of experiences.
I don’t mean this to come across as a woe-is-me narrative. Instead, I hope that critics can use it as a note of caution. We will occasionally be forced away from things because of our histories or our understandings. I honestly don’t know what to think about Never Alone, but it feels like my distance has diminished celebration in favor of worry.
And that is what is so fucked up about this. I have to take a step back and get metacritical about this experience because I have an inability to see it as anything positive or productive. My criticality is so housed in negative or contested readings that it is impossible to just go along with what is happening.
I’ve honed a critical practice that is based on noticing the lack of difference to the point that I can’t recognize where to celebrate its existence. In my previous experiences I let an understanding of difference turn to appropriation. I fear that empathy can too easily turn to sympathy or even pity. I don’t doubt the sincerity of the makers of Never Alone, but I know the power of the player in negotiating the meaning and significance of the games they play. For some, only messages of power and hope flow through this game. For me, I only see the pitfalls that these experiences could foster.
This projection of myself into the work is something that critics need to be aware of when interpreting their experiences. Several writers have talked aboutsubjective criticism as of late, and important in this work will be a deeper understanding of how we interact with games and how we project our own critical screens upon them. The critical lenses that we have built up are part of those subjectivities, but a bit more difficult to parse out. They don’t necessarily shape our experiences directly, but shape how we see and discuss those experiences – how we incorporate them into our lives.
There is a point in Never Alone where the aurora borealis above a village turn into ghoulish sprites that will engulf your character. They move around in patterns, their arms open, trying to catch you. Looking back on my experience with the game, these seem like a manifestation of my critical screens. They consume me and take me away from the text, driving me into past experiences. They circulate around certain objects and ideas, programmed to latch onto them. For me, fear of certain things has cast its arms wide, making it more likely that I’ll fall into that frame of mind. The project from here is not working to avoid them, but to find those fallen into less often. Neglecting certain critical screens has led me astray before. It’s impossible to solve this issue, but it may be possible to mitigate its effects.
Homeland star David Harewood has signed up to appear in ITV’s epic new 13 part drama based upon the ancient legend of Beowulf.The British actor, will play Scorann, a ‘born warrior, fearsome fighter and man of great honour’ and joins a star-studded cast which already boasts William Hurt (Humans) and Joanne Whalley (Wolf Hall), with The Bletchley Circle star Kieran Bew attached to play Beowulf himself.
Since we sometimes get questions about this, here is a quick and dirty primer.
Why do you want to throw glitter on the Pantheon?
Well, I think some of us are hungry for really powerful, yet seductive deities. The players in the Pantheon were aristocratic and extremely powerful, so there is potential for high-octane fabulousness. I mean, look at Flemythal, she can get it.
The Glitter Pantheon is, at base, imagining the elvhen pantheon in the context of Empire. With the aesthetic caveat of glam rock debauchery.
I’m so entirely behind this! And since I never posted them here, these were my early attempts at Falon’Din and Andruil (although now, of course, I want to start from scratch and do them ALL again - deadly serious this time, and maybe with less blatant ripping off of Alexander McQueen):
February 14th Strawberry Ceremony for missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, trans and two-spirit. Photo: Peter Kernaghan
