there’s something endlessly hilarious to me about the phrase “hotly debated” in an academic context. like i just picture a bunch of nerds at podiums & one’s like “of course there was a paleolithic bear cult in Northern Eurasia” and another one just looks him in the eye and says “i’l kill you in real life, kevin”
I heard a story once about two microbiologists at a conference who took it out into the parking lot to have a literal fistfight over taxonomy.
have i told this story yet? idk but it’s good. The Orangutan Story:
my american lit professor went to this poe conference. like to be clear this is a man who has a doctorate in being a book nerd. he reads moby dick to his four-year-old son. and poe is one of the cornerstones of american literature, right, so this should be right up his alley?
wrong. apparently poe scholars are like, advanced. there is a branch of edgar allen poe scholarship that specifically looks for coded messages based on the number of words per line and letters per word poe uses. my professor, who has a phd in american literature, realizes he is totally out of his depth. but he already committed his day to this so he thinks fuck it! and goes to a panel on racism in poe’s works, because that’s relevant to his interests.
background info: edgar allen poe was a broke white alcoholic from virginia who wrote horror in the first half of the 19th century. rule 1 of Horror Academia is that horror reflects the cultural anxieties of its time (see: my other professor’s sermon abt how zombie stories are popular when people are scared of immigrants, or that purge movie that was literally abt the election). since poe’s shit is a product of 1800s white southern culture, you can safely assume it’s at least a little about race. but the racial subtext is very open to interpretation, and scholars believe all kinds of different things about what poe says about race (if he says anything), and the poe stans get extremely tense about it.
so my professor sits down to watch this panel and within like five minutes a bunch of crusty academics get super heated about poe’s theoretical racism. because it’s academia, though, this is limited to poorly concealed passive aggression and forceful tones of inside voice. one professor is like “this isn’t even about race!” and another professor is like “this proves he’s a racist!” people are interrupting each other. tensions are rising. a panelist starts saying that poe is like writing a critique of how racist society was, and the racist stuff is there to prove that racism is stupid, and that on a metaphorical level the racist philosophy always loses—
then my professor, perhaps in a bid to prove that he too is a smart literature person, loudly calls: “BUT WHAT ABOUT THE ORANGUTAN?”
some more background: in poe’s well-known short story “the murder in the rue morgue,” two single ladies—a lovely old woman and her lovely daughter who takes care of her, aka super vulnerable and respectable people—are violently killed. the murderer turns out to be not a person, but an orangutan brought back by a sailor who went to like burma or something. and it’s pretty goddamn racially coded, like they reeeeally focus on all this stuff about coarse hairs and big hands and superhuman strength and chattering that sounds like people talking but isn’t actually. if that’s intentional, then he’s literally written an analogy about how black people are a threat to vulnerable white women, which is classic white supremacist shit. BUT if he really only meant for it to be an orangutan, then it’s a whole other metaphor about how colonialism pillages other countries and brings their wealth back to europe and that’s REALLY gonna bite them in the ass one day. klansman or komrade? it all hangs on this.
so the place goes dead fucking silent as every giant ass poe stan in the room is immediately thrust into a series of war flashbacks: the orangutan argument, violently carried out over seminar tables, in literary journals, at graduate student house parties, the spittle flying, the wine and coffee spilled, the friendships torn—the red faces and bulging veins—curses thrown and teaching posts abandoned—panels just like this one fallen into chaos—distant sirens, skies falling, the dog-eared norton critical editions slicing through the air like sabres—the textual support! o, the quotes! they gaze at this madman in numb disbelief, but he could not have known. nay, he was a literary theorist, a 17th-century man, only a visitor to their haunted land. he had never heard the whistle of the mortars overhead. he had never felt the cold earth under his cheek as he prayed for god’s deliverance. and yet he would have broken their fragile peace and brought them all back into the trenches.
much later, when my professor told this story to a poe nerd friend, the guy said the orangutan thing was a one of the biggest landmines in their field. he said it was a reliable discussion ruiner that had started so many shouting matches that some conferences had an actual ban on bringing it up.
so my professor sits there for a second, still totally clueless. then out of the dead silence, the panel moderator stands up in his tweed jacket and yells, with the raw panic of a once-broken man:
You’re a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1, while a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, you notice the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10.
You decide it’s best to find out what you can about this person. Cautiously, you approach his desk. He’s a handsome man, tall, but with a disarming smile. How could such a friendly guy with such cute, dorky glasses be dangerous?
You extend your hand. “I noticed you’re new here. What’s your name?”
He shakes your hand warmly. His gaze is piercing, as if he’s looking right through you. “The name’s Clark,” he says. “So, how long have you worked for the Daily Planet?”
This one wins.
It’s been a few weeks, and one of Clark’s friends shows up. She’s pretty and all, enough muscle that she must work out. First thought would be that she should be maybe a 6.
Clark’s introducing her around. “This is my good friend, Diana, she’s in from out of town.”
You blink, and take a step back in fear. You’ve never seen an 11 before.
Speak of the devil. Now before them was another puzzle, different from the one before.
But where the previous puzzle had random ancient Hylian words moved by triggers, this one seemed more sophisticated, in a fashion.
A basic rectangular 14×14 grid of glowing blue and red crystal cubes. Cautiously, Platinum performed a basic scan of the crystal grid.
Finding it safe to touch, she placed a finger on one of the glowing blue squares, only to find it turning red with a low-pitched musical chime.
Another touch returned it to blue, with a higher-pitched chime.
As Link stood beside her and looked at the puzzle, Platinum crossed her arms thoughtfully.
“Is this a visual puzzle, I wonder? Or musical? Both?” she murmured to herself.
“Usually with puzzles like this we have a hint of some kind in the room,” Link answered. “Such as a stone tablet with a hint or some other visual cue.” Link began looking around to try and find what something like that to get them moving forward in their quest.
Idly, Platinum deployed a single omni-drone to help in looking for clues or hints in the chamber around them while she continued to look at the glowing crystalline grid.
A beep from the drone somewhere behind her made Platinum look over at what it had found. A very well-hidden tablet, with a highly intricate engraving on it too.
Moving closer to inspect it, the Fleet Admiral’s thoughts on the item were briefly interrupted by Sebastian’s internal-only voice.
“My lady, your local sensors indicate a repeating micro-pattern across this engraving. Analysis suggests it is the ancient Hylian symbol for the arcane artifact known as the Triforce. However, this tablet appears to be structurally incomplete.”
So the Triforce symbol was somehow the key? This tablet just showed one of the three (or four, if one considered the blank gap itself to be another of the combined) triangles.
There had to be other tablets nearby. Platinum was sure of it.
If what he said was true, then there was definitely something incredibly valuable down here to warrant protection of that level.
But surely a repository of information didn’t require such a powerful Guardian, unless said knowledge was of critical importance.
Undoubtedly the case, since this now-destroyed Guardian had been here after all.
Suddenly, Platinum found herself and Link at an intricately carved, sealed door. Running a hand over its engraved surface, the Fleet Admiral was surprised to find a soft blue glow whenever her hand and fingers neared the carvings.
The glow only grew somewhat brighter when Link neared the door. On a hunch, Platinum turned to the hero.
“Sir Link, I believe that device of yours may be able to open this door. I’m reading latent energy within the structure and for some reason it seems to respond to your presence specifically.”
Link nodded, approaching the door and holding up his Shiekah Slate to it. As predicted, the door seemed to react to Link’s device, opening up for the two of them to continue forward. “Strange…so few traps and puzzles in this Shrine,” Link commented. “There’s usually more by this point…”
Speak of the devil. Now before them was another puzzle, different from the one before.
But where the previous puzzle had random ancient Hylian words moved by triggers, this one seemed more sophisticated, in a fashion.
A basic rectangular 14×14 grid of glowing blue and red crystal cubes. Cautiously, Platinum performed a basic scan of the crystal grid.
Finding it safe to touch, she placed a finger on one of the glowing blue squares, only to find it turning red with a low-pitched musical chime.
Another touch returned it to blue, with a higher-pitched chime.
As Link stood beside her and looked at the puzzle, Platinum crossed her arms thoughtfully.
“Is this a visual puzzle, I wonder? Or musical? Both?” she murmured to herself.
Having not been to any other Shrines, Platinum couldn’t say anything for sure about the one they were in.
The two saw only more of the ruins as they continued deeper within. Platinum idly checked her collapsed and holstered particle pistol, making sure it was still fine.
If anything came at them like earlier, at least she could put a pulsed beam between its proverbial eyes.
“Sir Link, you said that something felt off about this shrine? What is it that you suspect?” Platinum inquired.
“I dunno, but I’ve never seen a full-size Guardian in a Shrine before,” Link replied. “I’ve seen Shrines that had Guardians patrolling them outside, but never inside of one. This Shrine is different from the others…”
If what he said was true, then there was definitely something incredibly valuable down here to warrant protection of that level.
But surely a repository of information didn’t require such a powerful Guardian, unless said knowledge was of critical importance.
Undoubtedly the case, since this now-destroyed Guardian had been here after all.
Suddenly, Platinum found herself and Link at an intricately carved, sealed door. Running a hand over its engraved surface, the Fleet Admiral was surprised to find a soft blue glow whenever her hand and fingers neared the carvings.
The glow only grew somewhat brighter when Link neared the door. On a hunch, Platinum turned to the hero.
“Sir Link, I believe that device of yours may be able to open this door. I’m reading latent energy within the structure and for some reason it seems to respond to your presence specifically.”
Isabella would need time to get the mech working properly, so she sent her own soldiers ahead to meet up with Joe. Though she did request some more Templars to come in, once the first portal was taken over. Shlaereen took a few more shots at the passing demons, before she too flew her way toward Joe, making sure she covered herself well from the demons. Though one unlucky demon, had the unfortune to end up with a holy round, right into its head as she passed.
“Alright!” Astrid declared in a way-too-giddy voice. “Time to murder a whole army of demons! Let’s get some music in here!” Cue Astrid blaring some more buttrock music as everyone launched their assault on the demons. She was clearly having fun with this. Perhaps a bit too much fun.
Nora sighed, pressing some buttons on one of her ever-present screams,”The Anti-Demon weapons provided to you should be sufficient in tearing apart these foes before you. Until the first fort is captured, I can’t offer any more assistance” She offers flatly, keeping an eye on astrid the entire time
“My forces are ready to be deployed once the target forts are taken” She announces, sending telepathic orders to a special subset of troops of hers
Now that everyone was on their way, Joe quickly made his move, deactivating his Active Camo and launching an assault on the demons in the fort next to him. He was using his basic beam setup due to needing the penetrative power of the Plasma Beam to deal with so many. Joe began shooting demons left and right, and singled out the fort’s controller himself, opening fire on him to bring him down.
Having arrived in time to see Joe begin his assault from a distance, Red decloaked and looked to the nearest fort, then to the very visible guards.
That was going to be a hard nut to crack. Unless…he took out all the guards at once.
An idea formed then, but this was going to be tricky. “Jeanne, cover me. I might need some magical rejuvenation after this.”
Ruler obliged, taking a defensive stance ahead and to the side of Red as he began glowing with the brilliant blue corona of biotics.
“Serina, assistance please. Preparing a high-order biotic strike.”
His AI promptly lent him a hand, running the necessary calculations through his biotic amp as Red performed the sequence of biotic invocations that formed his conceived means of assault.
Three Flares, just barely restrained within a containing mass field, linked to a mass ‘tunnel’ that was aimed at the very base of the fort.
A thought brought forth a distant field of eerie black energies that ate away at the demon guards, their bodies and armor steadily dissolving into carbon dust and warped metal upon contact.
But even that was merely the primer.
Red breathed heavily as he drew back a hand, glowing with destabilizing energies. This was going to really drain on him. He only had time for a brief and urgent transmission to the Spartan a distance away. “Joe, take cover for a bit. I’ll lend you some help.”
And Ruler drew a breath sharply as the air around them seemed to suddenly freeze just as Red cast his arm forward, releasing his strike with a flick of the wrist.
Only her eyes as a Servant could catch how fast the glowing projectile lanced forth to hit the black-laced energy field amidst the demons, and she covered them soon after to not be blinded by the all-consuming light that followed.
Even from this distance, the ground shook violently from how utterly titanic the biotic explosion had been, let alone the initial reaction.
Ruler caught Red by the waist as he dropped to a knee, panting a few times. That entire strike had drawn an absurd level of energy from both his reserves and the ambient surroundings.
And judging by the aftermath, it had succeeded. Sure, a large radius of the ground around the fort and the structure itself was plasma-scorched, as well as many, many demons simply vaporized. Though not all of them.
But at least the fort was clear for the taking.
As Ruler used some of her innate abilities to help Red recover his strength, she reflected on the sheer devastation her Master had wrought.
Such a biotic attack, surely, was on par with a Noble Phantasm in its destructive power.
Interesting was right. Normally creating a crystalline substrate like this was the domain of interstellar societies which had advanced their knowledge of both computer technology and multi-purpose power generation.
To see it being developed by a planet-bound, pre-spaceflight civilization was…highly unusual, to say the least.
Well, at least there were more opportunities to get intact samples. The Technology Council was going to have a field day with these discoveries.
Platinum dropped the melted remains of the ruined Ancient Core, turning to Link. “Surely there are more things we can find within this shrine. The message we deciphered mentioned knowledge. Perhaps there’s a library somewhere deeper?”
“Usually Shrines are just a puzzle for me to solve, the end goal is to get to the Monk at the end of the shrine so I can get a Spirit Orb,” Link admitted. “Sometimes there’s not even a puzzle. I haven’t seen any libraries within a Shrine before…then again, I haven’t seen a full-size Guardian in a Shrine before either. Something’s off about this Shrine in particular…”
Having not been to any other Shrines, Platinum couldn’t say anything for sure about the one they were in.
The two saw only more of the ruins as they continued deeper within. Platinum idly checked her collapsed and holstered particle pistol, making sure it was still fine.
If anything came at them like earlier, at least she could put a pulsed beam between its proverbial eyes.
“Sir Link, you said that something felt off about this shrine? What is it that you suspect?” Platinum inquired.
“Attempt to tempt me, and you’ll find one of those rounds in your head.” Shlaereen growled. She proceeded to fly up to a vantage point, resting one leg off the edge, and lifting the other to have her rifle rest on her knee. She would then proceed to start taking pot shots at the demons, occasionally taking out their legs, before ending their suffering. As for Isabella, she began to examine the mech before them, though seemed a bit confused. “So uh… how does it work?” Isabella inquired.
“Oh come now, Nora, can’t I take some amusement in a supposedly holy angel of Astrid’s tormenting my demonic servants?” Adam asked in a faux-offended tone. “I would’ve thought that Astrid’s angelic servants were above such things as torture and casual murder.”
“It works like most other mechs that the Empire has,” Astrid explained. “It’ll establish a neural link with you, and from there it’s like controlling your own body. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it quickly.”
“No, you cannot, because Demons are the exception that proves the rule. Demons are beings of pure malice given flesh, and death is the only thing that can ‘free them’ from the darkness that covers them” She responds harshly,”You cannot pretend to be offended at an Angel doing her job when that job is making certain beings like you never get an upper hand in the universe,” She finishes, looking over the mech, and Joe’s progress
“If you need something to assist in the fort conquering, just say the word, and I can send a variety of supplies to your position” She explains flatly, tapping her fingers against her arms
Joe nodded. “More time you guys spend moving that jaw of yours, more time the enemy gets to summon reinforcements,” he pointed out. “We don’t have time to come up with some complicated plan that ensures no casualties, the longer we wait, the more enemies we have to deal with, and the harder this mission becomes.
“I’ll make my move as soon as you guys do, but stop wasting time contemplating schemes and get out here as soon as you can before we end up overrun already!”
As much as Red wanted to reduce and prevent further casualties, Joe was admittedly right.
“Ruler, I think it’s best we move out first,” he concluded quietly. A mental command switched his armor’s systems to active battle configuration, even as he cloaked again, the stealth field shrouding Ruler as well.
A direct transmission was sent onwards to the Spartan, informing him that they would be arriving soon to assist him. One more went out to Nora as well, requesting a single emergency teleport for his requested reinforcing ally.
Hopefully, Green could be brought into the fight in time to help them even the odds a little more.
Initiative Archival Network 