Dear Girl Genius,
STOP IT. RIGHT NOW. STOP IT.
I LOVE YOU.
Also I’m on the search for a new lamp for my bedroom.
I can’t find one that’s wacky enough. In a clip-on way.
I know the picture isn’t impressive, but I want this lamp. For Girl Genius reasons.
So as a follow-up to this blog post, imgur posted a musing about Hitler, lifted from tumblr. And now I’m lifting it from the cycle will never stop
It reminds me of the picture I found, of Hitler giggling with some schoolgirls.
How evil was Hitler? How much of his evil is from his advisors, and how much came from him? I know he was twisted and horrible anti-semetic and xenophobic and anti-Slavic and etc. That came from him. The fascination with the military was not unique. The xenophobia was not unique. What evil was Hitler?
We interrupt IMPORTANT VESTING ACTIVITIES to bring you this — this — horrendous atrocity known as 12 Questions Disney Forgot to Answer About Beauty and the Beast. AS A HISTORY MAJOR AND NERD and apparently a caps-locking user I must answer these questions immediately!
1) Who in the actual hell is this?
That’s Beast/Prince Adam, losers. He’s not the heir to the throne. He wouldn’t be called “prince” if he was the heir to the throne. He’s a younger son. They probably thought he died.
2) Who punishes an 11-year-old for not letting a stranger in the house?
Fairies! Enchantresses! Witches! Basically if anything is supernatural, they will do evil things to you! This is a basic testament of supernatural things. They are evil and mean you harm. As soon as that enchantess set her sights on Prince Adam he was doomed. If he had let her in, she would have found another excuse to curse him.
3) Why did Belle open the door here?
Because xenophilia. In the old days, if someone came a’knockin’, you let them in. Even if you hated them. Or else bad things would happen. Prince Adam followed the Enlightened class and didn’t need to follow xenophilia, but Belle, a working-class girl, was raised on it.
4) Who are the faceless bastards in the background?
I don’t know. Good point. Maybe they’re not servants but the other servants are shooting them off anyway? Maybe all the servants got turned into inanimate objects, and all the inanimate objects got turned into servants? Great equalizer, that witch.
5) What is going on with this time-traveling portrait?
Well it’s in terrible shape, but it’s entirely possible that it’s a commissioned portrait that made Prince Adam look a little older anyway.
6) What would have happened if Belle touched the rose?
I don’t know. I’ve been wondering that myself.
7) How did Belle get his unconscious ass onto a horse?
Maybe Phillipe helped? He’s a smart horse.
8) How does Chip even exist?
He was a baby when the enchantment happened. Years of malnutrition and magic kept him from growing properly, but now he’s ten-years-old.
9) Is Belle stupid?
Bitch, I sing foreshadowing songs all the time. It never amounts to anything. Stop.
10) Whose clothes are they wearing?
His parent’s. Duh. The castle is a country villa for the royalty. They let Prince Adam take over the residency, but they still kept some clothing there.
11) Why didn’t Belle just say she’d be back?
She didn’t know if she was coming back or not. Her father was very sick and might need some help recovering, after all. She wasn’t just going to dump him at home and say, “Bye! Off to shag an animal!”
12) How did these people not know there was a cursed monster within walking distance?
Because the castle had shut down all communication with the outside world per the Beast’s orders. Nobody in or out. As far as they were aware that was just a few less taxes they had to pay. “A monster took over the old villa!” is pretty understandable logic.
So, I have depression. This is a diagnosed thing. Depression. I have it.
Normally I flitter through life saying that I totally used to have depression but I don’t have it anymore, hahaha. And sometimes when I’m very stressed I’ll say that I’m a recovering depressed person, the same way a recovering alcoholic will always be a recovering alcoholic (haha family history). I try to push it behind me and say act like it’s all part of my past, that I’m not depressed anymore. But I am still depressed. It doesn’t way on me as heavily anymore, doesn’t affect all my actions every single day, but it’s still there, every day, like the world’s worst Instagram filter.
And then every few months it gets to me, particularly in March. I don’t want to do anything, ever, even though what I want to do is very easy. I got over depression the first time by always keeping in mind what my job is, in every single location. That works for most places. So I go to work and I work. I go to school and sit in a classroom and ask questions and take notes. But I can’t — I can’t be social. I will go to a classroom and not look at any other students, because no. I can’t. I will go to work and be friendly with customers, but then I’ll sit in the breakroom and keep a book up to my nose and not read the book. I will deliberately avoid visiting places where there will be nothing but sociality going on. I was really looking forward to that dance, depression, thanks.
This post is turning out a lot longer and more rambling than I intended.
A few nights ago I cried myself to sleep.
I’ve barely started on this paper due tomorrow. I’ve been saying for three days that I’ve been working on it in my room, but then I hide in my room and sit under the covers and stare at my bookshelves or my lizards. Or I’ll spend hours on imgur and facebook. Anything, really, to avoid the introspection that comes from writing. Even if I’m just thinking about my opinions on the Chinese Cultural Revolution, it’s too introspective. I don’t want to touch it.
Today I went on facebook and then flipped through my boyfriend’s timeline. I’m not sure why. That was going to be the main point of this entry, actually. I was going to laugh at myself for feeling insecure about him talking to other girls in 2007. I was going to post a picture like this:
Ahaha feminism exists somewhere.
Which I totally did anyway. But then I felt like talking about my feelings. And I can’t stop. I can’t stop writing about anything other than Chinese history. I can’t stop thinking about myself. All I want to say is horrible things about myself, like I’m ugly and not going to succeed in anything and I’m going to lose my boyfriend and I’m going to get fat and I’m not smart and nobody likes me and I’m not creative and I’m just a waste of resources on this earth. Sometimes I read about Laurence Oates and people like that and I wonder if I could really assess my life and do something like that. It’s not introspection. It’s just horrible obsessive thoughts, this weird OCD that makes me constantly need to control my actions by thinking hateful things about myself. Where is the line between vanity and pride? Where is the line between self-hatred and humility?
So in my Post-1949 China course (aka “history of the PRC”), we’re learning about the aftermath of the Cultural Revolution. Around 1966-1976, urban China was basically taken over by a whole bunch of radical students. They started out protesting against educational standards. Mao started to take advantage of the situation, and suddenly we had students dressing up in military uniforms, putting on red armbands, and walking through the streets beating up people less enthusiastic than they were. Or maybe they beat up people who were more enthusiastic than they were, because those people were taking advantage of the situation.
Very few urban dwellers got through this period unscathed. People died regularly. A lot of these kids — the Red Guard — beat people or even killed people. We’re reading the memoir of Ye Weili. Whenever we see or read about her, she talks about how girls at her high school murdered their headmaster. They forced the woman to do manual labor. The woman was old and arthritic and had heart problems; when she collapsed, they dumped her in a laundry basket and left her there overnight. We’ve read and heard interviews of people saying that they had beat people, and when the people they beat protested, they beat them even more harshly. We’ve seen videos and images of authority figures being forced to walked around with a sign hanging on their neck while stadiums of people shout abuse at them. We’ve seen Red Guard members burning and beating old symbols of art. “Cultural Revolution is not a dinner party,” Chairman Mao told them.
My professor, Prof Chang, asked us, “Who do you think did the most violence in the Cultural Revolution?”
I answered, more because it was obvious what he wanted us to say than anything. “The Red Guard.”
Prof Chang reviewed all the images we had seen in all the classes before, of the Red Guard beating and interrogating and parading their victims around. It was obvious that he was going to end this with a “But…”
And he did. The Red Guard committed a lot of violence (don’t misunderstand), but the People’s Liberation Army did worse, in shutting down the Cultural Revolution. The Chinese Government plays up the idea of the Red Guard committing all the violence. After all, the PLA was sent in by the government. The PLA is the current military of the People’s Republic of China.
“It’s like Kent State,” Prof Chang said. “The National Guard came in and shot people.”
Now I learned that what happened in Kent State was…an accident? Let’s call it that. The students were protesting, wildy enough that the National Guard was called in. The National Guard fired into the air to get the students to calm down. What goes up must come down, and four bullets land in the heads of student protesters.
Compare that to the systematic, intentional urban warfare of the Cultural Revolution. Not to mention the fact that we discuss the Kent State shootings. Both the Chinese and American governments talk about the Cultural Revolution as if the biggest atrocities were only committed by the Red Guard. Yet Kent State entered our national dialogue.