When I was younger I was such an avid follower of everything X-Men that I fell for almost any comic that contained the letter ‘X,’ regardless of where the letter fell in the word. That’s how I became acquainted with Malibu’s Freex, a group of teens with powers are hunted by a corporation. The Freex were close enough in concept to the X-Men that it spoke to me, and unlike the adult X-Men, the Freex were closer to my age, and better reflected my current emotional reactions and problems. Also, unlike mutants the Freex’s powers had a younger adult feel, being designed to create an even playing field amongst the characters; a cheerleader with deforming skin tendrils, the computer geek that can manipulate technology becomes a hero similar to a high school quarter back, who himself has lost his popular standing because of powers that change him into a large silver blob-creature. Additionally, Freex characters needed one another in a more somber manner than the X-Men. The Freex only had each other but mutants were plentiful enough to form multiple groups, X-Factor, X-Force, Excalibur, Wolverine, , etc. I longed to be friends with the X-Men and their super-hero soap opera, but The Freex were my reality.
I let loneliness and a fear of isolation control my actions, pushing me to be in relationships and constantly remodeling my life to match them. I made the prison myself, and blame no one else because there are always options. Unfortunately, I began taking them too late and damaged my identity, having shattered and buried it to gain acceptance from others. Then I swung the other way and pushed everyone away to focus on myself. Rather than dig deep and excavate my memories and experiences I relied on nostalgia to wrap myself in. Armored in rose-tinted memories I pushed forward, believing the invented truths I told myself about the joys of singletude. Still with optimism I kept every day the same routine, foregoing desires for a relationship for a good time – someone, anyone, to break the monotony of my life. Dates though stopped after a single dinner date because I covered up insecurity by dominating the conversation. I did my best to never stay on the side-lines long, and was always willing to try and to laugh. I created a rich inner world trying to make my armor into every day clothes, knowing I would’ve survive the failure of another relationship.
Occupation: Writer, Junior Editor
Dorian Iacchus was born in the City of Flowers to creative parents. His father was an architect who owned the third largest architecture firm; his mother was a classically trained dancer and teacher. Dorian spent his childhood and early life in Vargaria and Huxia, where his parents converted to Anthrosophiscal Society. At 17 he began working as an artist’s model. While attending Aerynd University he appeared in final project student films. At the Waterfront Annex’s graduating show Dorian Iacchus’ critical short story cycle, Snow, yielded a publishing contract with Tilael Publishing.
Rather than go home after graduation, Dorian moved into the Langham building, amongst vagabonds, ecchi, socialists, and anarchists who encouraged playing with sexuality and sexual roles.
In 2053 Dorian met Edna Millay, editor-in-chief of e-periodical Ego’s Own, at philo-café Freethought, who introduced him to a circle of writers and thinkers; often times meeting at dancehall, occupying a table all evening. As a free-lancer for Ego’s Own, Dorian turned down assignments, earning a reputation for being difficult. Yet, for what was accept he received notoriety, earning a junior editorial position. There he edited, become friends with, and in some cases lover to leading literary and artistic figures
Terry Moore’s Strangers in Paradise volume 3’s representation of queerness became my first exposure to positive queer characters with agency. I discovered Strangers in Paradise through stray copies of volume two in FYE, while in middle school. The characters, through Moore’s work, was my first exposure to independent self-published comic books. Strangers in Paradise had kinetic physical comedy balanced with brutal sudden violence, and strong characterization. I hunted down back issues and filled in volume one and two through local comic book stores and internet stores, when they became available. Aside from great artwork, strong characterization and real relationships were the draw. Francine’s attractiveness was not the basis for Katchoo’s love. It was Francine’s empathy, kindness, and loyalty. Francine valued Katchoo’s selflessness, honesty, and endless compassion. The two characters had an authentic relationship rooted in appreciation and friendship.
Seeing a balanced queer relationship, and created agency, was a stark contrast to mainstream representation where homosexuality was rarely addressed, and when it was homosexuality was treated like a plot-device. Katchoo was driven by her queer relationship with Francine, and inherent danger in queerness. This is exemplified by Freddie Femur, Francine’s ex-boyfriend, who is jealous of the characters’ relationship and suffers embarrassment when he attempts to push his heterosexual expectations on Francine. The other antagonist, Darcy Parker, represents the exploitation of women by other women, through an international prostitution ring, which pushed hetero-erotic gender-roles on an under-age runaway Katchoo. Both adversaries’ suppression of queerness was a driving force, informing both character and plot development.
Every day at work is another day I don’t belong at the adult table. Life and work comes so much easier to everyone but me, like they’ve been practicing their whole life for the moments of their life. This isn’t the truth because it is a fact that no one has it together as such, but I look around me at everyone else’s life, and without actively comparing, it’s the things I want the most came to them sooner – contentment, belonging, and legacy. How it is that I work just as hard and others keep passing me by? Are they braver by taking more risks, and reveal more of themselves? I wonder what the unique lessons are I am to learn, what’s the pay-off? It doesn’t look to be a relationship, well-paying, or happiness.
· I’d like more time.
· I’d like a balance.
· I’d like to see progress.
· I’d like to know contentment.
If I could just get a roadmap to eat, pray, love my way to those things I know the rest would fall into place, emotional security would follow. Then I’d know my seat at the table would belong so fully to me, I’d also get a place setting.
Pentapolis of the Valley thrust upward, a giant needle in the landscape seeming inspired by the ancient secrets of the Acadian Mountains to the east and west. Its buildings looked thrown together, chance addresses and materials amassed in one place and called a city; a shame that the city hadn’t been more planned out in its growth; there were some provisions for modernity. Several choice main roads that formed a grid across the city were paved over for car usage, the rest remained cobblestone; a monstrous ribcage across the city. The most drastic changes to architecture ended about a century and a half ago, back with the Great Depression’s onslaught.
It was originally founded in November 8, 1803, on a one-hundred-acre tract of land between the Anapos River and MacLir River, in the Acadian Mountains. The site was chosen because of three cataracts on the left half of the Anapos River, offering great potential for water power. As well they could utilize the Anapos and MacLir River, and built Wuthering Canal to connect the two rivers – preparing to build a shipping titan. In 1817, the Masonric brothers, of Masonric Corps., and other landowners joined with the Hundred Acre Tract to form the Hamlet of Gamoyra. Also in 1823, the Wuthering Canal between Anapos River and MacLir River was completed, and the North Exchange linking east to the Atlantic Ocean was opened. By 1830, Sidume population was 9,200 and in 1834, it was re-chartered as a city.
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Aeon Flux was my time, 30 minutes where no one bothered me or tried to have time. Similarly, my father had his wrestling and my mother had her knitting and crafting shows. In a family where parents were healthily involved in their children’s lives, having time that was private and uninterruptible was precious. It felt awesome to be 12 years old watching MTV, and it felt better that no one bothered me.
Mom had watched Aeon Flux once because she wanted to know why I stayed up late on Fridays. She found it too weird and went to bed, saying If I don’t understand it so go ahead and watch. I felt smart because at 12 years old I still thought my parents were the smartest people in the world, and to be engrossed in something a parent found difficult was the greatest feeling in the world. I felt like an adult!
Aeon Flux is the ideal a femme fatale, a fetish that was a malleable dominatrix. She had designed her persona to be any fantasy. She always had what people wanted and took what they had. She is a pragmatist with a heart of gold having three back-up plans to her back-up plan.
I never thought I was complex enough for you. I had never been brave like you for living so loudly. I was scared the whole time that you’d find out that beneath the image I had crafted wasn’t someone you deserved. I feared your rejection. This is a deep seated fear that I carried with even before I knew was different, a homosexual. To avoid being alone the rest of my life, friendless and isolated, early in my youth I began creating masks to hide behind. I never knew the damage those masks continued to inflict until after you had left. You were fed up with the chaos that I created to deflect from the cypher that was hidden.
I’ve been working to illuminate the inherent shadows behind my various masks. By taking apart and reassembling my formative years I have involve myself in crafting my queer identity. This is allowing me to discover the root of my conceptions of homosexuality, developing a relationship with queerness, which will inform how to better navigate and perceive the world and my relationship to it and handle problems.
I should’ve taken time off before you, but I was excited that my crush since 20 years old had found me.
In making the cabinet that would provide counsel about the qualities that make a man, a well-rounded person capable of putting the needs of others above their own, I found it difficult to fill the seats intellectual and spiritual/religious. A good hint as to the qualities I need to develop the most.
My childhood was filled with Roman Catholic upbringing, but I was raised to have an appreciation for all religions. After my first communion going to church was more on the schedule than something that was ever forced, and was eventually faded out by the time I was in middle school. Since then I have never really followed any religion or spiritual practice, other than looking up a religion’s Wikipedia page and getting the gist.
Selecting a cabinet member to hold the seat for intellectual has proven difficult as well. There are few towering intellectuals that I think I would be interested in reading. Of modern great thinkers, that quickly come to mind are scientists, particularly Neil DeGrasse Tyson and Michio Kaku. I would like to be able to expand to philosophers or critics, but my knowledge is lacking on where to begin for these as well.
Qualities of a Man
1. Politically aware
3. Artistic & creative
5. Physically fit/style
If I was to be an X-Men there were two mutant powers that I wanted: shapeshifting and telepathy.
Shapeshifting to me represented liberation, a way to escape my conflict about homosexuality; freedom to explore queerness. In middle and most of high school women were happy in their submissive role, reveled in the same fantasies about escape to a big city, a family of friends, and self-reliance. With shapeshifting I’d be able to become that person, to become anyone other than myself. I’d be able to avoid the lonely and isolation prophesized by television and movies. By being able to shapeshift I’d have more tools at my disposal. If only my goals and fantasies matched my outside.
Telepathy was a power that I wanted because it would ensure that the forms I took would be ideal for whom I was interacting with. By having telepathy I’d know exactly what to say, be prepared for what others would say, and always have a funny quip to keep grace. Having the correct words, I’d be able to give the illusion that I was known without having to go through the painful experience of not exposing my queerness. Telepathy would remove the guess work about how to be part of the group.