I really want to go with this as a really literal metaphor, because what started out as Hilarious Teaching Moments Between Charles and Emma is very much longer than expected, I don't have a beginning but apparently there's a plot, but the story has yet to share what it is with me.
You know, in general I find the entire spiritual/metaphysical approach to creativity a little weird and foreign; I can frame it all the ways I want for fun, but it's something I do like eating, sleeping, and flying to different places. I do not, in general, get the impression I am communing with the collective, mass unconsciousness, or a set of real or demi-real muses, and I'm really comfortable with saying, no, I do not hear any voices unless I'm talking to myself (which I will do, and sometimes out loud, and sometimes, I don't actually care if people can hear me). There's always, however, an argument; with canon, with fanon, with fandom, with myself, with a concept or idea that sometimes I'm not even aware of until someone reads it and says, oh, because I'm oblivious but not stupid and even I can go back and see I'm doing the fictional equivalent of presenting a defense, in detail. Which makes sense; unable to look at anything but the entire forest when I need to contemplate a single tree is often how I end up with a WIP that drives me nuts.
At least part of this entire mess was sitting down and thinking about the art of pragmatism; like greatness, some are born with it, some develop it, and some people have it thrust upon them. The thing that made me think was Charles' line in the sand was very clear and very hard; but the territory before you get to it is vast and what you won't and would never do to protect yourself doesn't touch the limits of what you'll do when those that will suffer for your scruples aren't you.
There has never been a time X-Men didn't step right on my thoughts on moral relativism and why an idea is so much more powerful than a dream and stomp on it repeatedly. I completely forgot that the first time I saw X-Men, the first thing I sketched was Rogue standing outside human internment camps and couldn't get rid of it until I wrote it all out (that took a bit). I think my question has changed, though. Last time, I wanted to know what lines you draw that separate you from monsters; I'm caught wondering now if monsters aren't the lines you cross, but the reason that you're willing to cross them. I feel like I'm writing a counterargument to Jus Ad Bellum on the principle that my entire thesis was wrong.
This is why I'd fail at academia; halfway through my defense, I'd probably start attacking myself.
I liked this so much better when I was mulling correct labeling for porn involving two people in one body, one of them male, a mirror, a ability for five-senses projection, and an abundance of creativity. The horrific part is, I didn't even get to the porn in that. I got distracted on how one goes about building a school for mutants; luckily, I finally realized Xavier's Academy wasn't actually a school. That helped a lot.
God, I want to go back to the porn. Five sense projection. Sometimes, I'm so disappointed in myself. Also, I may have sunburn, which is totally not helping.
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