Sublimebakerygoopeggs - Sin Título

never would i have thought that bill would describe penny so s of t l y....

finding his scary voice in it: chapter II

Avatar Aang, Feminist Icon?

“Who’s your favorite character?” I hear that question come up a lot over Avatar: The Last Airbender, a show particularly near and dear to me. Iroh and Toph get tossed around a lot. Zuko is very popular. Sokka has his fans. But something I’ve noticed? Aang very rarely gets the pick. When he comes up, it’s usually in that “Oh, and also…” kind of way. Which is strange, I think, considering he’s the main character, the titular airbender, of the entire show.

I never really thought much about it until a couple weeks ago when I finished my annual re-watch of the series and found myself, for the first time, specifically focused on Aang’s arc. Somehow, I never really paid that much attention to him before. I mean sure, he’s front and center in most episodes, fighting or practicing or learning big spiritual secrets, and yet, he always feels a little overshadowed. Katara takes care of the group. Sokka makes the plans. Zuko has the big, heroic Joseph Campbell journey. Aang…goofs around. He listens and follows and plays with Momo. And yes, at the end his story gets bigger and louder, but even then I feel like a lot of it dodges the spotlight. And here’s why:

Avatar casts the least traditionally-masculine hero you could possibly write as the star of a fantasy war story. Because of that, we don’t see Aang naturally for everything he is, so we look elsewhere.

To show what I mean, I want to talk about some of the show’s other characters, and I want to start with Zuko. Zuko is the hero we’re looking for. He’s tall and hot and complicated. He perseveres in the face of constant setbacks. He uses two swords and shoots fire out of his hands. He trains with a wise old man on ship decks and mountaintops. Occasionally he yells at the sky. He’s got the whole 180-degree moral turn beat for beat, right down to the scars and the sins-of-the-father confrontation scene. And if you were going into battle, some epic affair with battalions of armor-clad infantry, Zuko is the man you’d want leading the charge, Aragorn style. We love Zuko. Because Zuko does what he’s supposed to do.

Now let’s look at Katara. Katara doesn’t do what she’s supposed to do. She doesn’t care about your traditionally gender dynamics because she’s too busy fighting pirates and firebenders, planning military operations with the highest ranking generals in the Earth Kingdom, and dismantling the entire patriarchal structure of the Northern Water Tribe. Somewhere in her spare time she also manages to become one of the greatest waterbenders in the world, train the Avatar, defeat the princess of the Fire Nation in the middle of Sozin’s Comet and take care of the entire rest of the cast for an entire year living in tents and caves. Katara is a badass, and we love that.

So what about Aang? When we meet Aang, he is twelve years old. He is small and his voice hasn’t changed yet. His hobbies include dancing, baking and braiding necklaces with pink flowers. He loves animals. He doesn’t eat meat. He despises violence and spends nine tenths of every fight ducking and dodging. His only “weapon” is a blunt staff, used more for recreation than combat. Through the show, Aang receives most of his training from two young women – Katara and Toph – whom he gives absolute respect, even to the point of reverence. When he questions their instruction, it comes from a place of discomfort or anxiety, never superiority. He defers to women, young women, in matters of strategy and combat. Then he makes a joke at his own expense and goes off to feed his pet lemur.

Now there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this, and it’s the one that shielded Aang from the heroic limelight in my eyes for ten years. The reasoning goes like this: Aang is a child. He has no presumptuous authority complex, no masculinity anxiety, no self-consciousness about his preferred pastimes, because he’s twelve. He’s still the hero, but he’s the prepubescent hero, the hero who can’t lead the charge himself because he’s just not old enough. The problem is, that reasoning just doesn’t hold up when you look at him in the context of the rest of the show.

Let’s look at Azula. Aside from the Avatar himself, Zuko’s sister is arguably the strongest bender in the entire show. We could debate Toph and Ozai all day, but when you look at all Azula does, the evidence is pretty damning. Let’s make a list, shall we?

Azula completely mastered lightning, the highest level firebending technique, in her spare time on a boat, under the instruction of two old women who can’t even bend.

Azula led the drill assault on Ba Sing Sae, one of the most important Fire Nation operations of the entire war, and almost succeeded in conquering the whole Earth Kingdom.

Azula then bested the Kyoshi Warriors, one of the strongest non-bender fighting groups in the entire world, successfully infiltrated the Earth Kingdom in disguise, befriended its monarch, learned of the enemy’s most secret operation, emotionally manipulated her older brother, overthrew the captain of the secret police and did conquer the Earth Kingdom, something three Fire Lords, numerous technological monstrosities, and countless generals, including her uncle, failed to do in a century.

And she did this all when she was fourteen.

That last part is easy to forget. Azula seems so much her brother’s peer, we forget she’s the same age as Katara. And that means that when we first meet Azula, she’s only a year older than Aang is at the end of the series. So to dismiss Aang’s autonomy, maturity or capability because of his age is ridiculous, understanding that he and Azula could have been in the same preschool class.

We must then accept Aang for what he truly is: the hero of the story, the leader of the charge, who repeatedly displays restraint and meekness, not because of his age, not because of his upbringing, not because of some character flaw, but because he chooses too. We clamor for strong female characters, and for excellent reason. But nobody every calls for more weak male characters. Not weak in a negative sense, but weak in a sense that he listens when heroes talk. He negotiates when heroes fight. And when heroes are sharpening their blades, planning their strategies and stringing along their hetero love interests, Aang is making jewelry, feeding Appa, and wearing that flower crown he got from a travelling band of hippies. If all Aang’s hobbies and habits were transposed onto Toph or Katara, we’d see it as a weakening of their characters. But with Aang it’s cute, because he’s a child. Only it isn’t, because he’s not.

Even in his relationship with Katara, a landmark piece of any traditional protagonist’s identity, Aang defies expectations. From the moment he wakes up in episode one, he is infatuated with the young woman who would become his oldest teacher and closest friend. Throughout season one we see many examples of his puppy love expressing itself, usually to no avail. But there’s one episode in particular that I always thought a little odd, and that’s Jet.

In Jet, Katara has an infatuation of her own. The titular vigilante outlaw sweeps her off her feet, literally, with his stunning hair, his masterful swordsmanship and his apparent selflessness. You’d think this would elicit some kind of jealousy from Aang. There’s no way he’s ignorant of what’s happening, as Sokka sarcastically refers to Jet as Katara’s boyfriend directly in Aang’s presence, and she doesn’t even dispute it. But even then, we never see any kind of rivalry manifest in Aang. Rather, he seems in full support of it. He repeatedly praises Jet, impressed by his leadership and carefree attitude. Despite his overwhelming affection for Katara, he evaluates both her and Jet on their own merits as people. There is no sense of ownership or macho competition.

Contrast this with Zuko’s reaction to a similar scenario in season three’s The Beach. Zuko goes to a party with his girlfriend, and at that party he sees her talking to another guy. His reaction? Throwing the challenger into the wall, shattering a vase, yelling at Mai, and storming out. This may seem a little extreme, but it’s also what we’d expect to an extent. Zuko is being challenged. He feels threatened in his station as a man, and he responds physically, asserting his strength and dominance as best he can.

I could go on and on. I could talk about how the first time Aang trains with a dedicated waterbending master, he tries to quit because of sexist double standards, only changing his mind after Katara’s urging. I could talk about how Aang is cast as a woman in the Fire Nation’s propaganda theatre piece bashing him and his friends. Because in a patriarchal society, the worst thing a man can be is feminine. I could talk about the only times Aang causes any kind of real destruction in the Avatar state, it’s not even him, since he doesn’t gain control of the skill until the show’s closing moments. Every time he is powerless in his own power and guilt-ridden right after, until the very end when he finally gains control, and what does he do with all that potential? He raises the rivers, and puts the fires out.

Aang isn’t what he’s supposed to be. He rejects every masculine expectation placed on his role, and in doing so he dodges center stage of his own show. It’s shocking to think about how many times I just forgot about Aang. Even at the end, when his voice has dropped and his abs have filled in, we miss it. Zuko’s coronation comes and we cheer with the crowd, psyched to see our hero crowned. Then the Fire Lord shakes his head, gestures behind him and declares “the real hero is the Avatar.” It’s like he’s talking to us. “Don’t you get it?” he asks. “Did you miss it? This is his story. But you forgot that. Because he was small. And silly. And he hated fighting. And he loved to dance. Look at him,” Zuko seems to say. “He’s your hero. Avatar Aang, defier of gender norms, champion of self-identity, feminist icon.”

What if Mo knows that he is gay and just think that He Tian joking around with him?

I doubt that Mo is aware of his sexuality, anon-san. These boys are what, fifteen y.o.? That’s just about the age when teens are discovering their sexuality, and I doubt that Mo can say with 100% certainty that he’s gay or straight or bi or whatever else. “Knowing” that he’s gay would imply that he has experienced attraction to the same sex before, which I doubt is the case. With Mo being a victim of bullying, I think that he probably has troubles feeling drawn to others and developing emotional attachments. That’s just part of how psychological defences might play in his case.

Here’s what he says supposedly about girls that he likes:

And here’s how he reacts to He Tian talking about liking him more and more:

Not to mention his reaction upon seeing that infamous dikpik. Which was pretty vivid, lol.

So, again, I really doubt that Mo is aware of his sexuality or that it is set in stone. Yet.

As for playing around part, that’s spot on. With Mo being suspicious and constantly on his guard, it’s a likely mentality. Victims of bullying quite often develop some form of paranoia and believe that the world is hostile. He certainly believes that He Tian is bugging him out of boredom, and all of his gestures of kindness are but another ploy. Maybe he thinks that HT gets kicks out of making a street kid do his house chores and etc. Hell, he probably believes that all of HT being nice to him is yet another way for HT to use people (like types of She Li did): get close to Mo, get past his defences, and BAM! backstab. I think OX stressed this during the subway scene, where the girl bumped into HT. After that, even HT noted that Mo looked down. 

OX used here deliberate framing: we are shown MGS face on purpose. The reason for this is that Momo (against his better judgement) gotten used to HT’s attention, and HT suddenly taking off to chase a girl just reminded him of the fact that he is (in Mo’s perception) just a plaything for a spoiled wealthy brat. That’s why he looks so frustrated and pissed here. I know that a lot of people interpret it as jealousy, but to me, it rather looked like Momo thinking that he’s just a toy. This feeling was exacerbated by the fact that Momo accidentally let it slip that he’ll remember He Tian forever. To someone like Mo, it was akin to showing underbelly.

So yep, he does believe that HT is toying around with him, but it doesn’t necessarily carry romantic/sexual subtext. 

I hope this answers the question~

So wait...

A “simple” spy is someone who works for the enemy. This is Snape as a Death Eater trying to spy on Dumbledore.

A double agent is someone who seems to work for the enemy but is actually betraying them with them thinking the spy is loyal. That’s Snape during the 1st Wizarding War, betraying Voldemort and working for Dumbledore.

A deep-cover agent is a person who still works as a spy, for a prolonged period of time (months or years), infiltrating the enemy and taking posts of responsibility and importance in the war, gathering precious information while cutting off all communication with his side of the war until they are “woken up”. That’s what Voldemort thought Snape was doing in becoming a member of the Order, a Potions Professor and Dumbledore’s (fake, but in reality not fake) spy, only to reveal himself as a true Death Eater after all.

A triple agent is someone who acts as if they betray the enemy but who’s really working for them, making the target believe a (false) tale of betrayal. That’s what Voldemort believes about his spy after his resurrection, when Snape tells him he’s “spun a tale of deepest remorse” to Dumbledore.

A quadruple (?)/fourth-time agent is someone who says that they faked a betrayal to the enemy but who’s really betraying them: they’re “faking a tale of false betrayal to the enemy”. That’s Snape who did betray Voldemort and made him think he convinced Dumbledore of a betrayal that was fake... although it was not.

Dammit Snape that’s a lot 😰

When people compare Kylo Ren and Rey to Darcy and Elizabeth

Sketchy dump. Will I ever stop drawing Risa holding Otani? The answer is a resounding no.

I couldn’t resist.

red barrels, making the murkoff account comics: miles upshur is dead. he DID NOT survive the mount massive event. he is Deceased and did not escape in any way.

the outlast fandom:

Kendinden dışarı çıkıp kendine bakmadıkça, kim olduğunu asla bilemezsin...