I'm starting to see game consoles, e-readers, and even franchises like Pathfinder and Warhammer 40,000 differently. They all have built-in stores, in a sense, but they also want to be your whole lifestyle, or even your religion.
With the release of Outlast 2, AAA first-person horror games set in the US' rural South are becoming their own genre. It and Resident Evil 7 have a lot in common: You play as a white man with a Northern accent, you're searching for your wife, and there's a ton of gross body horror.
I haven't finished watching the soft-spoken ManlyBadassHero's Let's Play of Outlast 2 yet (content note: "Game is Very Graphic In Every Way Possible"). But while RE7 just squicked me out, Outlast 2 genuinely disturbs me. I think that's because RE7 left out the biggest thing that makes the white, rural South terrifying: Their fiery brand of religion.
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I'm reblogging this quote for truth. When I started becoming aware of systemic injustice is when I started being held at even more of a distance. My family and church didn't know what to do with me, and could only tell me to "stop reading those things." Individual people would come up and thank me, sometimes, after I spoke up on others' behalf in Institute, or tried to make sure that someone was okay. But to anyone who had any kind of power or privilege in White Mormon culture, I vanished except as an annoyance.
On the plus side, most White Mormon people are kind of boring anyway, except when their scandals show up in the newspaper. Being around other trans women and "woke" friends has been very good for me.
(About the word "woke:" Arinn notes that it has been appropriated by white people to mean "sensitive and aware," when it was originally used by black people to mean "alert to potential danger." She discusses the need for such a term, in a society that's even more hostile to people with black skin than it is to me personally.)
I am worth more than you have to offer me.
I am a better and stronger person than you'll ever be.
I am messy and inconvenient, gloriously and hilariously broken, and I will never be whole. I will always be damaged and leaking, not blood but words:
Of the pain of rejection,
of the loss of a life that I never had,
and of the horrible knowledge that I am as alien to your world as a Lovecraftian Elder God.
But just like the Old Ones of Lovecraft's mythology, the world that I'm a part of now -- the one I escaped to -- is more real, more solid, and more lasting than yours. And one day your world will collapse like a soap bubble, and reality in all of its beautiful madness will flood back inside.
You're scared of me because you know this. Because in my eyes, in my face, in my very existence that you tried to crush, you see the end of your world.
You should be afraid. Because when your fragile world pops, I will be there:
With my watery tentacles outstretched,
my flowing wings held high,
and my joyous laughter resounding through your flooded Heaven.
It will be beautiful.
And then, if you are still there, I will blow you a raspberry.
... or those who can be persuaded to do things that go against their consciences, when their leaders command it. Whether in a church or in service to other ideals.
Posted on Feminist Mormon Housewives:
Um, I think there’s something to be said for mirror neurons being the basis of universal morality. In people with functioning consciences, they make us hurt too when we see others hurting.
Making someone ignore their conscience requires either mental illness, like sociopathy (where you can’t empathize at all), or indoctrination, like Mormonism (where the Other is demonized and you are given reasons to enjoy or ignore their suffering).
The reason Mormonism is becoming increasingly unpopular, these days, is not because people reject morality altogether. It’s because their consciences tell them your church’s teachings are immoral and hurtful.
I personally left, when I realized that. My commitment to kindness and love allowed me to transcend the awful beliefs I was raised with, and see others — and myself — for the valuable people we were. If my life still has fear and pain in it now, it is largely because of people like you, who believe in a sort of moral relativity where an act (like forbidding others to marry) is evil if done against you but blessed if done against someone your god disapproves of.
If you are struggling with matters of conscience as well, I strongly suggest considering that your god may be the one with the problem, and that you ought to find one who doesn’t tell you to hurt people.
Also, being intolerant of intolerance does in fact make sense. Functioning empathy is the basis of solidarity, and community. “If you want to hurt them, you’ll have to go through me first” is only unreasonable if you believe that you have a right to hurt others.
Or if you don’t believe your actions are, in fact, hurtful, in which case you may want to stop and listen to others explain why it is.
But this post on a (relatively) progressive Mormon blog brought back a lot of really bad memories. Of being the outsider, not being invited to anything, not even having the same online games.
My situation with my family of origin cut off a lot of opportunities, but I had forgotten how exclusive and cliquish Mormon kids are. How much I dreaded the things that I could go to. How I prayed to find someone who felt just as bad, so that I could save them.
I've never confronted anyone about that, that I can remember. Not the way I confronted my family of origin. I just forgot, because mental blocks are a defence mechanism. They kept me from seeing a big part of the reason I feel so inferior, though.
Wouldn't that be an interesting weapon in 40k, or another miniatures game? You shoot someone with it (rolling To Hit as needed), and suddenly they can't do anything self-serving. Like fleeing from a hopeless fight, or going to ground in order to keep from being shot at.
There actually is a special rule in Warhammer 40,000 which does that, though. It's called Zealot.
At any rate, Alias has been over here for three days now, and so far we've played three games of 40k. It's rekindled my interest in this game, and reminded me what I love about it.
I keep going out of my way to make sure that Alias is having fun, though, and compulsively asking if it is okay. I'm scared that I'm being a bad hostess, that having it play one of my favourite games with me is selfish, and that I should be letting it dictate everything.
Aside from that, though, it's been really nice having it over. In many ways. ^^;
O-Inari-sama, provider for those who are starving,
Please lead all of their children out of their clutches.
Every. Single. One.
May they spend all their last days in loneliness,
May they be all alone on their deathbeds,
And may their Heaven be Hell to them,
With nothing but empty chairs.
Thank you for helping to save me from them.