wandering the greenwood

Easily one of the best Christmas presents I got this year was a steam gift card which I cashed in for Stardew Valley! It's a farm simulator and role-play game and it's the cutest. I've wanted it for ages (and have a number of friends who have been urging me to experiment with video games a bit more) but generally video games are Quite expensive and typically all my funds get channeled into buying books and wine. But I'm very glad to have Stardew Valley!



It is incredibly wholesome and playing it is so relaxing, it's escapism in its purest form. Really the only thing I have to compare it to is Minecraft, a game which has served me very well over the years. And although obviously it doesn't have an equivalent to Creative Mode where I can just mess around in sandbox mode to build cool things (I even went through a phase of loading up Sims 3 to play as an architect and build houses); but I really really love the rpg aspect of this. I've never played a real rpg but I've got some decent recommendations for some, so I might get into them later. And I've heard that playing Minecraft is like gardening for some people, I find this even moreso because it never falls into the rut of feeling aimless, like Minecraft can. Maybe that's because I'm just so hell-bent on seducing Elliott.
( Some more screenshots of where I'm at in sdv! )

Much to my dismay, I was wholly overwhelmed with uni during October and didn't manage to make much of a dent in my scheduled Halloween reads, but I have made some progress this month. I started with Carrie by Stephen King, as it's a classic horror novel but also because my brother reveres Stephen King and thought I'd give him a try before dismissing him as not my cup of tea. My instincts were right, however, and I really didn't enjoy it. I had a few more minor qualms which were mostly just a matter of taste, but boy does he love sexualising underage girls. I'd heard rumours that in It, ( Rape CW ). I realise that he is writing horror and is relevant thematically, but I don't think it's appropriate for a grown man to write about underage girls having sex for adult consumption, and not in such obscene detail as I have witnessed. I didn't finish Carrie, it wasn't my jive.

After that, I read On Anarchism by Noam Chomsky, which was a gift from a pen pal, and a pretty solid book. I haven't read much contemporary anarchist theory save for articles, etc. on the internet, so I suppose I have little to contrast it with, but Chomsky is very well-spoken. And in comparison to the nineteenth century anarchist theory I've read, it's so refreshing to read references to historical events I actually have knowledge of. Kropotkin, bless his heart, talked at length about the Paris Commune and honestly, I've not read much about it, I had no idea what he was talking about.

Easily the best thing I've read this month was Heroes by Stephen Fry, a retelling of the mythology of the Greek Heroes. Many retellings discomfort me because it is difficult to infer what level of what is said is literal, and what is creative interpretation or for comedic effect, but this was so enthralling, and Stephen would always be factual and take the time to be clear. He also often will repeat names and genealogies when characters reappear so you don't have to flick back through the book for 15 minutes to work out what's going on which is such a relief. It's also worth mentioning that I listened to the audiobook, which was a delight. Heroes is the spiritual sequel to an earlier book Mythos which I believe centres more on creation and the gods & titans, and I actually enjoyed Heroes so much I bought a copy of Mythos yesterday.

I'm currently reading the collected short fiction of Oscar Wilde, and American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis, which have both been both puzzling and rewarding, but on those I shall reserve judgement until I am finished. And I've been burning through gift vouchers to bookstores that I got for my birthday, and so far have bought: To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, Stoner by John Williams, A Handful of Dust by Evelyn Waugh, The Metamorphosis and Other Stories by Franz Kafka, and Mythos. I've got so much good stuff ahead of me. And I think I will reread Brideshead Revisited soon because that is long overdue.

I've had an onslaught of assignments this month, I'm almost delirious with the anxiety, so naturally my brain has jumped on a couple of fixations. Because what better time to adopt a new obsession.


SPIRIT PHONE
Almost anyone who has experienced the internet is familiar with Neil Cicierega's work in some capacity — be it through The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny, Bustin, Ariel Needs Legs from the important videos playlist, Two Trucks,  or naturally the Potter Puppet Pals — but most people don't realise it's all by the same man.

But I did.

And then I dug further and discovered that he has three entire albums of mashups that are insane. I mean words cannot express how bonkers these combinations are or the finesse that he pulls them off with. He uses motifs from All Star by Smash Mouth and Wonderwall by Oasis and manipulate them until they're broken shreds of what they used to be, and then mashes up Pop Corn and Let the Bodies Hit The Floor and makes it work?? Not only that but he makes it sound good. My current favourite is Wow Wow, which is Will Smith's Wild West vocals over a synthpop beat. It's so damn catchy. Not only that, but all these albums are available for free download straight off his website.

But I couldn't stop there, I had to give his original music a try. In 2016, under the name of Lemon Demon, he released Spirit Phone in which every song has an X-Files/paranormal undercurrent — a man's whose death becomes more and more creepy & comically absurd; a song from the perspective of an arcade game that makes people go crazy & kills them; a love song from Ronald Reagan — all over 80s synths. The lyrics are so good, I really love the double entendre of writing a song that works with both the surface level and the metaphorical. A song about someone possessed with the idea of building a big tower is both kinda scary & paranormal, and about the futility of the capitalist/neoliberal idea of Progress. And every single song is a killer dance beat.

So Neil Cicierega is a man who exists and makes art (even, in my opinion, good art) but I really think the fact that so few people know about him, even though he's been behind a number of memes, is really interesting. In an era of Instagram Influencers being paid thousands to advertise, and the push of an idea of a personal brand, Neil Cicierega isn't trying to commodify himself. And as an intervert and a commie, I have so much respect for that.


MCELBOYS
Almost in contrast to that, we have the McElroys, whose presence have been pervasive on the internet (at least in the corners that I lurk in) that it's surprising it's taken me this long to catch on. But catch on, I have.

The McElroy brothers started a podcast for bad advice some years ago called My Brother, My Brother, and Me; and since have branched off to have their fingers in many other pies. I'd actually tried to listen to get into MBMBAM before but Justin & Travis have strikingly similar voices, there was no way I could figure it. That was months ago, if not a year or two. On a whim just less than a fortnight ago, I decided to try listening to their D&D podcast, The Adventure Zone and what a slippery slope that is. Since then I've listened to 21 episodes of that, watched their short-lived TV show, listened to a couple of episodes of MBMBAM properly, and listened to The McElroy Brothers Will Be in Trolls World Tour which is honestly some of the best story-telling I've seen in a long time. Because (spoilers) they actually did fucking get roles in Trolls World Two and the journey is so absurd. The hubris. And now I feel like a fool because I actually want to see Trolls World Tour now. I'm sure I won't enjoy anything else in it, but I want to see the conclusion to this story.

Each of the three brothers also run a separate podcast with their respective wives which... blows my mind. How can someone bare to show so much of themselves to the world? Is that not draining? I suppose it's a fill-time job, so they don't have to juggle much else on top of the recordings & editing, but I know I would not be cut-out for it.


Listening to a podcast again has also got me wistfully missing Welcome to Night Vale. I liked it a lot, but I lost momentum and now don't really know where I was up to. Somewhere around ep. 40 I believe. But such a backlog is so intimidating.

 I often wonder if I'm not cut out for this uni business. It's kinda funny because I'm obsessed with literature surrounding scholarly settings and I'd love to be that sort of person but when faced with my own academic career (if one can call it that), I'm terrified. I always wish to be proactive but inevitably end up lagging behind. I've had a bad run so far this semester with a four-day weekend/holiday turning to another week of me being sick and wracked with nerves. I'm so ashamed of myself.

So, I ask, why? I am lazy by nature, sure, but I suppose it's only due to my cynicism. Of course, I'd work hard if I actually believed there'd be any reward for it. But as it stands, I always find excuses to put off the actual work (not that I even mind it) because it's not as gratifying as xyz.

And if this is my behaviour, how do I rectify it? If I had the answers, I wouldn't have the problem. Obviously an attitude change, but how? Video essayist Karsten Runquist recently did a video lauding Jonathan Van Ness' attitude towards problem-solving. Of course, there's my penchant for the Dao de Jing and the fact that I still refer to it only sparingly and have yet found a way to integrate it into my life. I don't know.

Peace.

 Yesterday (Friday the 20th of October, 2017) was my last day of high school.

It's weird because I've spent so many years (thirteen in fact) knowing this day would come but it has been so far away I stopped believing the day would come. I mean, I still have plenty of exams to go (6/8) and I'll be back at my school for those s well as a couple of other errands but. I will never have to wear a uniform again. I'm an adult in a week and a half. And that is mind-blowing. It may be logical but it doesn't feel real.

The day itself was actually (and surprisingly great). I was up early to get breakfast at Maccas on the way to school, then I got a t-shirt signed by half my year level and a couple of people below me. I was starting to appreciate what this precious little time meant when we had a final assembly and a guard of honour. The teachers stood on either side of a walkway through the crowd and we had to walk through and say goodbye to all of these people who had taught us invaluable throughout our years at high school. And I was fucking bawling. I wasn't worried about not seeing my friends, but I was scared shitless that I'd never see a couple of my teachers ever again. There are two in particular whom I've been terrified of leaving but when I went to say goodbye to them, they both expressed that they want to remain in contact. It's always struck me as unfair, as these teachers have a massive impact on my life, but they have another hundred or so students every year, I can't expect to leave an impression. Well apparently I was wrong there.

After I stopped crying, I eventually went to my friend's halloween birthday party which was honestly amazing, especially as I'd already blown off so much steam.

I've only cried one time since and that's because I have a friend who has been part of my squad for years and whom I adore, but he's in the year below the rest of us and isn't graduating until next year. So on my shirt, he signed his name on my t-shirt as 'the one who is being left behind.' So I texted him half the day.


This is messy and gushy but I will cherish these memories. So this is the end of my annoying posts about school. 

 listening to John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme and trying not to cry is such a big mood. I just simply cannot cope with school. I feel like I'm constantly on the verge of either crying or vomiting.

And I feel so weak for it because everyone graduates school so it shouldn't be such a big problem and I've been through some shit in my life, this should be easy. But it's not. My first exam is in four weeks which is far, far too soon but my last is in two months which is too far away because it means that my life is going to be like this until then. Meanwhile, every time I get upset, my dad wants to have a two-hour long conversation about what I need to do to stop feeling bad and how I should let him help me.

And my theatre teacher said that when he was in high school he only cried once. Me? About every fortnight, if not more often.

I have a test today and a test on Friday and two tests on Monday and I haven't even looked at the other days but there are three more tests in that week. While I need to be dazzling a uni with my (probably nonexisxtent) writing skills.

My dad tells me that life is always going to be like this and I know that's just him trying to help but that makes me want to die.

I don't have ti,me to be this sad. I have too many tests and assignments to have time to be allowed time to be stressed about them. I'm only happy when I'm not me.

You know those few things in life you never get bored of no matter how much you experience them? Hole onto those things. I'm listening to John FInnemore's famed radioplay for something like the fifth time and yet every single time my interpretation and understanding of the characters changed.

Like it wasn't until last time I listened that I saw the potential for Martin/Douglas (aka marlas) as a ship, yet afterwards I read all the fluffy fic I could get my hands on. The first time I listened, I thought Douglas was quite cold and arrogant until the last season or so and thus didn't like him nearly as much as I adored Martin and Arthur. This time, I like Douglas most of all as I can see that even though he hides it well, he really is quite warm and always turns things in Arthur's or Martin's or Carolyn's favour when they're down, even is he disguises it in petty insults and banter.

I owe John Finnemore so much oh my god.

 A day under a a month ago, a lost my phone and cut all my hair off. Although it was largely an impulsive decision, cutting my hair had a much larger effect on my perception of myself than I expected. I've never cared a lot for my hair and have had many different styles over the years but this time it's different, this time I'm reclaiming my gender.

Ultimately it boils down to not looking immediately like a girl. Now when I see cute boys, I may no longer assume they might be attracted to me (which is a small blow to my ego) but also people no longer know what to make of me. At an event for my brothers' cricket club, one man walked over and clapped me on the shoulder and made some banter to my mum like 'how are the boys going?' before he noticed my face and laughed awkwardly a bit and apologised because he realised his mistake.

I haven't made any effort to change my clothes (I probably came out of the womb wearing a Harry Potter tshirt and ripped jeans) but just by changing my hair, people are at a loss. And finally, I feel like myself.

ROPE

There is nothing quite like a good murder film and Rope definitely delivers.

It is difficult to go wrong with Hitchcock - although there are many men in cinema who have been grossly overrated, ol' Alfred is not one. After quite liking Rebecca and North by Northwest, I was optimistic about this movie, and rightly so. It is always difficult when a director is adapting a stage production into film but it can be done (examples ranging in quality from The Producers to the gorgeous Chicago) and Hitchcock did wonderfully. All the action is filmed in long shots of about ten minutes, and half of these are quite cleverly masked by the dark jackets of passing guests. The way the camera wanders through conversations and picks up the most interesting one in that moment is precisely how the focus of the play would shift.

The movie is actually based on the true story of two uni students who murdered a younger boy because they believed themselves to be elite and powerful and that murder is the perfect was to prove it. Although this version differs a lot in how gay it is. Obviously there were very strict censorship codes at the time, and a very different audience, the dynamic between Brandon and Phillip was electric. They gravitated towards each other and were very intimate, yet as it cannot be said, it does allow the characters to be treated as equals with the others and their relationship is natural.

I'd like to see more of Hitchcock's films, including rewatching some old ones. It's such a privilege to be able to peer into the 1940s with these sorts of films and see the authentic fashion and culture.

ATOMIC BLONDE

After Rope, I went to the cinema to see Atomic Blonde and while the representation may not have been perfect, etc

it was a bloody fun film. The soundtrack was kicking and the lighting was gorgeous (as were the actors, obviously). It was precisely what I would want from a Jamie Bond film: the violence, the quick pace, seducing the girl. This alone would make for a successful film but Atomic Blonde goes further in its vivid aesthetics, fashion and music, fleshing out the characters quite well, and even questioning the reliability of the narrator. We see Lorraine at her weakest and we see her fight her way back. Much of the action is taken in long shots which are amazing and allow you to follow and appreciate the well-choreographed action scenes (as opposed to the dizzying and disjointed quick-cuts typical to the action genre). While the plot is somewhat lacking, they always are in action films. And for what it's worth, the plot really does make you think.



tl;dr: I can rest easy tonight in the light of watching two new good films.

Last week I got my score back in my maths test and I got 35%. To understand the situation, you'll need some background. so:
- I do the second maths stream called maths methods, we call it math for short because
- it is hard as balls. The sort of thing where your friends ask "why the fuck did you choose that?" because they are worried for your health. Most people drop it after the first year, and I rather wish I had
- in year twelve in Victoria (my state), 30% is a pass. Their expectations are very low, I expect by now they're just hoping we finish it.

I am very pleased with my 35%. It is better than I have done on other tests and better than I expected (especially as if I failed, I'd have to do more work for a subject I can barely tolerate). Most people do it to go on to do sciences in uni. I am more of an arts/humanities person so I don't know why I'm doing it anymore but here I am. They ended up boosting everyone's marks because they realised in hindsight how difficult the test was. Actually, my 35% was the average mark and my teacher said it is normal for the average to be below 50% for these types of tests which is ridiculous. If you design a test for a class you teach to be too difficult for 50% of your students to understand even half of it, you're doing a bad job at either teaching or designing tests.

I am not planning on taking my maths methods anywhere and like I said I was pleased but my father? oh boy.
He's annoyed. And not just because I didn't do as well as he would have liked but because I'm fine with not doing as well as he would have liked. He's convincing me I'm not doing enough work, and it makes me feel guilty, like I'll never do enough or be enough and honestly I've felt like that for too long, I'm sick of it.

I know that's probably not his intention. I expect he's just hoping it motivates me to suddenly care more for that specific subject and be proud of putting all my effort into it. Meanwhile, I devote more of my time and energy to the subjects I adore like theatre and studio art and German or the ones I at least hope to do well in like English literature. I'm fine with doing mediocre in methods and doing far better in my other subjects, and I've told my dad this, yet he wants me to be unhappy with this result. I'm not put out by his comments but i keep stewing over them, on his assumptions and motivations. This won't even help me in life, it is just him wanting my values to be the same as his, and they are not. For while we often have the same interests, we just as often come to different conclusions (as the radical nb child of a liberal cishet man).

My education is not a competition. Nor does it have bearing on how I see myself. I do not care that I may be doing worse, better than or equal to my peers. My education is something I love and am forever grateful for. And I resent anyone who tries to change that for me.