- [Rowan] Okay, I've made
the executive decision that for the rest of this video, I will be wearing the pirate hat. Thanks to Raycon for
sponsoring this video. If you're looking for some new earbuds, then check the link in the description to get your hands on a discount code. Also my book, "Here and Queer", which is an inclusive and joyful guide to life for queer girls and women, is coming out in less than a month, so you still have time to pre-order and get your hands on a signed book plate. Info will be in the description. Okay, this silly little
show about gay pirates, this show has been trending for weeks. It's all over my For You page on TikTok. The fandom are uploading 100 new fanfics every single day on AO3. It's more in demand than
"Euphoria" and "Moonlight". How the hell did we get here? Yo-ho-ho and a can of
caffeine-free Diet Coke. My name's Rowan Ellis
and today I'm gonna be doing a deep dive into
"Our Flag Means Death", breaking down the themes
explored in the show, the importance of its queer characters, how it ties into the
history of piracy, and more. I don't think it was a
surprise to a lot of us that the show was popular. I mean, just look at the
creative team involved. But, it definitely wasn't
expected to be this popular. However, I think it's
pretty clear at this point why it's taken off in such a way. First, the show is just really good. It's both hilarious
and genuinely touching. The writing and performances,
directing, editing are all excellent. And it comes together to
create a first season that, to be honest, in my opinion, like, doesn't have any bad episodes. It also has a diverse cast that is treated well within their narratives. They're given lead roles, interesting romances and plot lines, and there's a lack of tone
deaf jokes at their expense. It's a low bar, but I guess
somebody has to clear it. This is also a show in
an established genre that allows for unexpected twists, as well as an in-depth examination
of the tropes involved. Crossing over a pirate show
with a workplace comedy gives us an opportunity to explore the contrast between the two. As what we might in "The
Office" have seen as a run-of-the-mill episode
about new management systems, can become a life or death situation in "Our Flag Means Death". The key factor that
has drawn audiences in, shown by the exponential
increase in attention after the airing of episodes 9 and 10, is its canonical queerness. Once that rainbow cat was out of the bag, the description of "the gay pirate show" began to make its rounds in the fan corners of the internet. It's interesting, but, to
be honest, unsurprising, that it took up until the kiss
episode for that to happen. I made a whole video about the most anticipated LGBTQ+
TV shows coming out this year. And while researching for that script, "Our Flag Means Death"
literally never came up in any roundups, press releases, nothing. It wasn't until I read some interviews with the show's creator,
David Jenkins, however, that I understood why
that might have happened. He said of the romantic
relationship between leads Ed Teach and Stede Bonnet, "And then people were very afraid that we weren't going to do it. I didn't realise how deep that ran until, honestly, this week. After you watch the fifth episode, it's very clear that they're
almost going to kiss, and people either don't
believe we're playing it or don't engage with it when
they're writing about the show. That, I didn't expect that. I thought it was quite explicit that they had feelings for each other. People are picking up on it, but they don't actually believe
that we're going there." Which, like, my sweet summer child, someone tell this poor
apparently-straight man literally anything about the history of queer representation on screen, I beg you. We so often see the sentiment of, "Oh, I had no idea that people
would see that in my script," from straight writers wanting to dismiss queer audiences seeing
queerness in their work. So, you've got to love
this flip of the script, even though it's slightly
wild to me that queerbaiting, one of the most frustrating and contentious issues in queer media, just totally passed the show's creator by. Like, you just have to look
at the comments and replies of any post online telling people to watch the new gay pirate show, and you'll see dozens of people asking for explicit confirmation
that the gay is actually gay. Like, "We've been burned before sir, we cannot go through that again." And so, we come to the
present where I apparently have scripted my longest
ever video essay about a 10-episode show that
you all, thankfully, bullied me into watching. I actually reacted to the first episode of this show on Patreon. I have a tier over there
where I do live reactions to movies and episodes of TV shows, and immediately just
went and binge-watched the rest of it afterwards. It was so good. That wasn't meant to
be a Patreon name drop, but since I just brought it
up, if you are interested in helping support me make these videos and also getting some cool perks, then check it out. I do reactions, also make
recommendation lists monthly and send out postcards,
and there's a Discord, and it's just a very fun time. So, I normally put, like, a casual mention of Patreon
at the end of the video, and I realised that people who don't watch 'till literally the last second
maybe don't know about it. So, hey, there it is. So, I'm going to assume that
if you're watching this, you've seen the gay pirate show already. But, if you haven't or
you want a quick recap, welcome to a mini chaos video within what is otherwise a
pretty normal video essay. For everyone who subscribed
to this channel after the Captain Marvel, Meerkat, Luca, gay Disney Olympics videos, you're welcome for what
is about to unfold. Okay, so we have wealthy
landowner Stede Bonnet trying his hand at piracy
onboard his new ship The Revenge, and boy, is he bad at it. His crew hates him and wants to mutiny. He tries to distract them by attempting to plunder a really big ship. And oh no, it turns out that
ship is the British Navy. And even worse, the captain
on that ship, Badminton, was Steve's childhood bully. Okay, so Badminton and
a few other officers board The Revenge for what turns out to be a very awkward dinner party. Stede gives Badminton a tour of the ship, and he does not appreciate our boy's interior design
choices enough at all. Violence breaks out with
the rest of the crew in the dining room after
mysterious crew member Jim rightfully stabs a British
sailor through the hand. Meanwhile, after Badminton
calls Stede a coward, Stede hits him with a paperweight, trying his best at like,
violent non-violence, which backfires and Badminton
impales himself on his sword, eye-first, as he passes out. Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh. Now, Stede looks like
a badass to his crew. They have a few officers as hostages, and he's on his way to
being a real pirate. What could possibly go wrong? Episode 2! So, the crew of The Revenge get distracted when Black Pete tells the story of when he totally sailed with Blackbeard. (whispers)
He totally never sailed with Blackbeard. ... and forget to, you
know, steer the ship, so they run aground. Stede, haunted by visions of a still-shish kabobbed Badminton, encourages everyone to take a vacation, but he doesn't specify that
the hostages they've taken do not get to do that, and so they immediately escape. Meanwhile, Jim ditches the
disguise they've been wearing and goes for a swim, and Lucius, gay icon that he is, spots him and is like, "Oh, Jim's been pretending
to be a man this whole time." Jim decides that the best
way to ensure that Lucius keeps their secret is
to stuff him in a trunk. So, they do that. The islanders decide that
Stede and Black Pete aren't really threats to anyone
except probably themselves, and they release them. But, they've sold the hostages to a mean old guy called Izzy Hands. But, through a bit of
surprisingly-effective theatre, Stede tricks Izzy into giving
him one of the hostages back, and so, we move on to, what
do you do with a hostage? You sell him at The Pirate's
Republic, of course. Well, if you're Stede, you force Lucius, who has escaped the trunk at this point, to join you in wearing
matching white dandy outfits, and going around The
Pirate's Republic yelling, "Man for sale, buy my booty!" But, to each their own. Okay, so the gang try and strike a deal at notorious Spanish Jackie's tavern. We learn that Jim killed Spanish
Jackie's favourite husband as revenge for him killing Jim's family, and now Jim has a bounty on their head. Shenanigans and a bar brawl ensue and Jackie uses one of her other husbands to lead the revenge into a
trap set by the Spanish Navy, who sentenced Stede to death by hanging. It's not looking good, gang, but, just in the knick of time, Blackbeard and his crew storm the ship, cutting Stede down from the noose. What a perfect meet-cute, am I right? So, our precious baby got back. Story: a super-sick Stede remembers his unhappy relationship
with his wife, Mary, which ended with him sneaking
out in the middle of the night to sail off in The Revenge. In the present, Blackbeard
watches over Stede as he sleeps, like a more sexy Edward Cullen. And Blackbeard and Izzy
have taken over The Revenge with plans to kill the
crew once repairs are done. When Stede wakes up, Blackbeard
introduces himself as Ed, and Stede gives him a bit of tour. Unlike Captain Badminton, Ed
appreciates Stede's library and all his cool, frilly things,
and thinks they're great. And then, they swap outfits like iconic gay couple Chad and Ryan
from "High School Musical", and it is extremely cute. Their antics are cut short, however, by Izzy, who is not in the mood for games. One, because he sucks, and two, because the Spanish
Navy is tailing The Revenge. Blackbeard and Stede have
a simultaneous epiphany and disguise The Revenge as a lighthouse, tricking the Spanish into sailing away. The next morning, they strike a deal. Stede will teach Blackbeard
the ways of being a gentleman, and Blackbeard will teach
Stede how to be a pirate. But, Blackbeard tells
Izzy that he, in fact, plans to kill Stede and
to take his identity, and then Izzy can take over as Blackbeard. Halfway through the season! Okay, so Stede, Blackbeard,
Frenchie, and Olu go to a very fancy party at the
(grunts) I think I've realised that I've just been pointing at the wrong flag. There are, I think it's French people. Whatever, the Spanish and
the French are just here, generally being nuisances
through this entire show. I'm also realising as I say that I don't actually know whether the people on the boat are French? They just, they had French
accents, I think, maybe? Whatever! Some kind of European colonial power that's not fun. Either way, at first,
Blackbeard, belle of the ball, he's got great stories, people
love him, he's enjoying it. But, as Stede predicts,
the crowd turns on him and Blackbeard like, uses the wrong fork and the mean people... They're just really mean to him, okay? Meanwhile, Frenchie and Olu are running a literal pyramid scheme with
the servants on the ship being all too happy to help, you know, screw over their employers by digging up all of the dirt on the party goers. Stede spills all sorts of tea and destroys everyone's relationships. Blackbeard is impressed
by Stede's ability to mess with rich people, and then they have a
disgustingly romantic moment in the moonlight with a silk handkerchief that I shall be elaborating
on to great length later in this video. So, Blackbeard and Stede are getting (scoffs)
close. Blackbeard's teaching Stede
and his crew Piracy 101. Like, how to survive a stab wound, and how to psychologically terrify your opponents using community theatre. They encounter a Dutch ship and Stede wants to try his
hand at a bit of, you know, theatre piracy to scare the
sailors into surrendering. Stede puts on a bizarre
but effective performance that's mostly terrifying because Lucius cuts off his own finger in the chaos. Okay, you know how I just
said that Ed had this like, secret plan to actually kill Stede? Yeah, so, that's like,
not going well for him. Ed like, can't bring
himself to stab Stede, has a breakdown in the bath tub, and basically admits that
he killed his father and has been directly avoiding
killing people ever since. Stede, very calm for
someone who just, like, was almost murdered,
forgives Blackbeard and the two make their friendship official. Izzy, however, furious that Blackbeard didn't go through with
the whole murder plan, challenges Stede to a duel. He stabs Stede, but, remember Stede learnt from Blackbeard how to survive a stab wound, so he's okay. Kind of, but, like, other than... I mean, he was stabbed, but, like, they missed the important bits, I guess? And so, Izzy essentially just has to like, angrily row away from the
boat, never to return. I wish! Okay, so, the crew is getting scurvy and Blackbeard is getting bored, so The Revenge stops at an island that just so happens to be Jim's home town. So, we find out Jim's backstory. Basically, after their
family was murdered, Jim was trained to be a killer
to get revenge by a nun-aunt. Coincidentally, and
helpfully for the crew, the
Orange-is-the-New-Black-nun-aunt-assassin-trainer also grows oranges. So, no more scurvy! Stede, trying to entertain
Blackbeard, basically, like, buys a treasure map, forces him to go. Obviously it's fake and they don't find any treasure beyond a petrified orange. But, Blackbeard starts to feel
even more feelings for Stede, and Lucius gives him the shovel talk like the incredible son that he is. Izzy, meanwhile, is being a
little rat wanting revenge. So, he goes to Spanish Jackie and then teams up with Badminton's
twin, 'cause he has a twin! And they're basically, like, "We're gonna take down
the Gentleman Pirate, once and for all!" So, basically, Blackbeard's
ex, Calico Jack, crashes The Revenge and basically upsets the balance between
the new co-captains because he's quite literally
the absolute worst. Like, maybe worse than Izzy? He ties with Izzy! I hate them both. I mean, they're great characters,
but they need to stop. At first, Stede tries to put up with Jack out of love for Blackbeard, but when Jack kills a crewman's seagull, then Stede is like,
"I'm gonna maroon you." And Ed's like, "Okay, I'm
gonna leave with Jack." And then quickly returns
when he realises that Jack was working with
like, Izzy, Spanish Jackie, the British Navy, like, the whole time. And this has all been a ruse. And so, he arrives at the ship like, just in time for the
British to arrive and, like, arrest all of them. And they lie on the deck
and they touch boots, and it's the most romantic
thing in the world. And everyone is obsessed with
it. Also, I just saw on TikTok someone got a tattoo of
the two boots touching. So, like, I dunno. But, everyone loves it, basically. Captain Badminton's twin
orders Stede's execution, but Ed calls for, you've guessed it, the title of the episode: act of grace! Legal loophole that grants pirates amnesty in exchange for serving in the
British Navy for ten years. The Navy decides, "We will grant Stede an act of grace only if Ed also turns away from piracy and serves the Navy for ten years, as well." And Ed does it, without a second thought. That's pretty gay of you, Edward. Okay, so, Ed and Stede go
to Pirate Reform School and Ed tells Stede that "the thing
that makes Ed happy is you", and they kiss! And they decide to run
away to China together. And I am aware of the fact that if you haven't seen the show, "they decide that they're
in gay love, they kiss, and they wanna run away to China together" does sound like hyperbole. But it's not. That's literally what happens in the show. But, Captain Badminton's twin kidnaps him, provokes an existential crisis, and then accidentally shoots
himself because, I guess, like brother, like brother? Stede, after witnessing this, returns to his estranged wife,
Mary, and their children, leaving Ed to wait alone
for him on the docks for hours before be basically realises that Stede isn't coming, and then rows back to
The Revenge by himself. And I'm sure nothing could
possibly go worse than this. Welcome to episode 10! Okay, so, remember Mary, Stede's wife? So, this whole season
she's just been living, honestly, her best life. So, she's got a boyfriend, her art career is thriving, widowhood had never looked so good. And then her silly little husband had to come back home from the dead. So, Stede basically
tries to reinsert himself back into his old life, and it goes so terribly that Mary is like, fully ready to actually murder him. But then they have a really nice, like, post-murder-attempt heart-to-heart and Stede realises that he is in love with Ed. So, he basically fakes his death, sails back to The Revenge, only to find that his crew
has been marooned by Ed because Ed is going through a breakup that was definitely Stede's fault. And he is dealing with it very badly. So, yeah. The end of season 1. Ed is just being sad,
going through a breakup, and then Izzy, as we've established... the words provokes him enough that he reverts back to being,
like, full emo Blackbeard and also forces Izzy to eat his own toe, and then also maybe kills Lucius by, like, shoving him overboard? Essentially, like, the pilot
ended with everyone's flags, like, fluttering in the wind together, and it was like wholesome
vibes and community, and we loved it. And then the finale ends with
Blackbeard's flag flying solo, now complete with the
bleeding heart added. So, that's the show, guys. Let's dig into some themes! Hey, it's editing Rowan here. So, I just wanted to very
quickly say I posted a, like, sneak peak of this video that was just a picture of me in front of
that wall of illustrations, and quite a few people asked
me if they could buy, like, a print of the illustrations,
if I was gonna sell them. So, I've actually decided to do my first ever special offer on Patreon. So, anyone who's signed
up to the $10+ tiers on my Patreon by May 12th
will basically be able to get a choice of any two of
the illustrations as, like, postcard prints through
in the post to them. And anyone who is a Patreon
at any level by that date will also get access to the digital, like, download files of all twelve
of the character illustrations. The details of my Patreon, as I think I said at the
beginning of the video, will be in the description
if you wanna check that out. The special offer is live now. If you want more than
the two physical prints, like, prints of some of the
other characters as well, then just, like, DM me
on Instagram or Twitter and we'll sort something out there. But, yeah. So, this is very flattering, but I just... For the people who asked, I wanted to make it available. Okay, on with the video! Okay, so, the show looks at this idea of an escape from society. Not as necessarily, like, a
realistic view of pirate life, but, a useful cinematic backdrop to explore themes of
marginalisation and social pressure. Because a stereotypically
"all-male environment" ruled by brutality and hardship
is rife with potential to explore things like toxic masculinity, violence, and inequality. And so, in this section of the video, we're gonna be digging deeper
into some of these themes. Toxic masculinity. The overarching plot of the show is kind of like a cultural
exchange between Stede and Ed. Each teaching the other about
their respective ideals of masculinity in their own worlds. Rich, upper-class man versus
rugged, hyper-violent pirate. And then, realising that
what makes them happy is not conforming to one
or other of these roles, but creating their own sense of self, and the time they spent
together while discovering it. First, let's look at Stede. So, he exists within the
structure of colonial society. But, he's bad at it. Instead of wanting to be a soldier exploiting the
socially-celebrated freedom to do violence through the military or Navy, he prefers "gentle pursuits". He reads, he has an interest in fashion, and, is ultimately condemned for it by both his peers and his father. For them, softness and
emotionality are akin to weakness. There's no room for healthy male bonding. It's always in these flashbacks, tied in with the ideas of
aggression and brutality. There's no model for Stede of what a healthy expression
of emotion looks like. And definitely not one that would be socially acceptable for him to partake in. I think a lot of queer
viewers can see themselves in Stede's experience of
being bullied and harassed for something that you haven't even understood about yourself yet, let alone articulated aloud. The pack sensing something weak and wrong that seems to be obvious to them in the way that it differs
from the acceptable norm, but that just feels natural to you. Even outside of his interests and hobbies, he cannot fit into the social
role of husband and father, describing himself as
"uncomfortable in a married state." As far as we know, Stede sort of doesn't figure out that he likes men at all in a romantic way until nearly the end of the season. He's clearly been feeling this disconnect between himself and the
life laid out for him. But, he thinks it's because of the arranged
nature of the marriage, or wanting a change of scenery or pace. In this way, the sea in the show comes to
represent a kind of freedom that he doesn't have the
scope to even imagine while with his family on land. The weight and pressure
of gendered expectations is most often talked about
in ways that constrain women, but Stede is just as
crushed by them as Mary is. They both have to remove themselves from the bonds of heteronormativity, Stede at sea and Mary
as an independent widow, to understand the
potential of their lives. There is something so
specifically tragic about this playing out first, like, a mid-life crisis storyline. We most often see queer
coming-of-age stories kind of in people's teens
and maybe early twenties. But, that's not the case here. There are decades of
unhappiness and melancholy and resignation before Stede figures out what happiness can be for him. His father was abusive and the other boys tormented
him for having emotions at all. And when he finally gets to the state-sanctioned covenant of marriage, where he at least is permitted
to feel the emotion of love, he can't do it right. So, he kind of goes off and invents this non-violent
world of piracy in his head where he can have emotions and books and, coincidentally, be around
hot guys all the time. It's a place where he isn't just accepted, but celebrated for it. The Gentleman Pirate, as
a figure that he imagines, is respected for having
all of these things that Stede was once punished for. And, in that context, piracy seems pretty gay. Okay, now compare that to Ed. Someone who is very much excelling at, you know, the violence. As a result, he is feared. He is respected. And he is an emotional wreck who talks to himself in the third-person. Decades of performing these ideals of
masculinity takes its toll, even on those for whom
it comes more naturally. When Ed asks Stede, "It's just (bleep) hard
sometimes, you know? You ever feel trapped, like you're treading water, waiting to drown?" They're both relating to the pressures of "being a man" in the "correct" way from very different sides. One of the stats that is most often talked about in relation to modern criticisms of toxic masculinity is the high rate of suicide amongst men. A combination of many complex factors, but exacerbated by the
social stigma against open emotionality and vulnerability. This is reflected in one of the earliest scenes
we have of Blackbeard in the show, when he suggests, "That's an idea. I haven't died yet, have I?" It's talk of suicide casually, but seemingly seriously
just thrown out there. He's doing masculinity "right", but it's leaving him, ultimately, empty. I say that the violence
comes more naturally to him, but that, in itself, is
an oversimplification. Ed doesn't enjoy threatening or subjugating others as a default. When he introduces
himself to Stede's crew, he is amiable and honest. But, the honesty brings out
positive comments in him. He has this natural niceness, but it's trapped in the usual
cycle of violence and killing, literally having discussed with Izzy casually killing most, if not all, of that very same crew,
just moments before. Ed, we see in the show, starts to conceive of himself
as two separate entities. There is Ed, the guy he is with Stede, who grows more present
as the episodes go on. But, then there's also
Blackbeard or The Kraken, the role he plays because it
is what he is supposed to do. In the episode where
the two men first meet, he grasps at the chance
to get to know Stede outside of the mantle of
the Blackbeard persona. Telling him, "I guess I
do work for Blackbeard", instead of coming clean, and actively distancing
Blackbeard from himself as Ed, even passing the mantle
and costume onto Bonnet. I already did a very thorough breakdown of the other gay pirate
TV show, "Black Sails", on my channel, but I
just wanted to say here, if you've seen that show, you'll know that this is a very similar
character dynamic to Captain Flint in "Black Sails". He sees himself as the man, James McGraw, and then the pirate, Captain Flint. Two separate entities. And, initially, it's looking to find a way to put Flint aside so that
James might find peace. But, that is because James had found love and peace in the past, before losing it and becoming Flint, and so, can't see a way to get back to it. Or, as close as he can. Ed, on the other hand,
never had the opportunity to find peace before becoming Blackbeard. We see in flashbacks his
physically abusive father, who it is then revealed
was killed by Ed, himself, leading directly to his
becoming Blackbeard. Even though many would
see the act as justified, it haunts Ed and he feels
compelled to frame himself as a literal monster for having done it. He doesn't have a model
for what peace looks like until he meets Stede. So, he can't try and get back to it. Ed has his walls carefully
stripped from him by Stede, layer by layer, and is rewarded with
understanding and gentleness. After he suffered a flashback
to his father's murder, he allows himself to cry in front of Stede and confesses his failed
attempt to murder him. And, instead of losing
Stede's respect, Ed gains it, as Stede tells him "I'm your friend" in this desperate, like,
heart-wrenching voice. Ed is vulnerable and
broken in front of this man who he has come to respect, and it's enforced to him in
that moment, that that's fine. In fact, it might even be a good thing. We see in the show how powerful this cycle of violence can be, especially when men are
given no alternative ways to resolve their pain and trauma. Blackbeard's bloody return at
the end of the first season is built on the back of Ed's pain. Stede choosing not to come with him leads Ed to the conclusion
that one person, who seems to care for the real him, didn't like him enough to sick around. And, at that point, it feels better to be the thing that
everyone feared and respected rather than the man who
can feel such heartache. Or, returning to the boy he was before he knew he could
commit such violence, who was merely a victim. In the last episode, when Ed becomes Blackbeard once more, he throws away a red
piece of silk that we'd previously seen Stede fashion
into a pocket square for him. He's had this fabric ever
since he was a child, it was the first luxurious
thing that he ever owned. This bit of silk represents
Ed's capacity for love. It is, in many ways, his heart. Something he's kept hidden
away from the world. It might have been safely tucked away where no one could see or touch it, but that's not what it was made for. It takes Stede to show Ed
that it can be precious, even if it isn't a full bolt of fabric or made into a fancy coat already. A little heart can be enough. And, it can be something
that he's allowed to feel. Stede tells him, "You wear fine things
well" in the moonlight. And it begins to knit together the love he felt as a boy for his mother and a potential for love he thought
he'd lost in the present, to give him a sense of permission to feel love in the future. It is inextricably tied to Stede, and to empathy, and emotionality. And so, by the end of the season, Ed has to be rid of it
because he's realising that when you open yourself up to love and really feeling what you're going through, you might become vulnerable in a way that can't be defended by
armour or swordsmanship. Ed can throw out the silk scrap, and the books, and the summer linens. He can even get rid of the crew that have come to mean family to Stede. But, all he's doing as he
cuts them from his life is carving away at the most
authentic parts of himself that he was only just
allowing himself to feel. Getting rid of Lucius,
specifically and brutally, is a marker of Ed's state of mind, because Lucius was the
character left on the ship that stood the best chance of
bringing Ed out of his grief. And he doesn't want that. Or the reminder of Stede that Lucius is. Ed knows how precarious this
old feeling of anger is. Now he knows what it's like not to have to feel it all the time just to keep going. He knows how easily he
could be drawn back into a world of vulnerability and love. And right now, it isn't worth the risk of
feeling this kind of pain again. Stede can't be the ideal of
violence during masculinity, but Ed can, and he's using it to punish himself for ever thinking that
he didn't have to be. We also see these glimpses into this kind of performative or
destructive masculinity in characters like Black
Pete and Calico Jack. It's a kind of posturing
based on ego and pretence. In these characters, the more intense toxicity is in response to insecurity and trauma, as Jack says, "Pirates don't have friends. We're all just at various stages of (bleep) each other over." It's the same weak versus strong sentiment that Stede endured as a boy, carrying through not just elite society, but all the way to the criminal
underbelly of the world. These pressures and expectations of gender can reach you anywhere. Jack is the embodiment
of, like, frat bro energy, bursting back into Ed's life with a special kind of peer pressure: the temptation of
overloading yourself with immediate sensation, and drinking, and violence, and risk-taking that you don't have to
think about anything else. You don't have to think
about your emotions, or your worries, or yourself
as anything other than a piece of a ritualistic fraternal whole. He calls Ed "a real pirate"
in comparison, pointedly, to the unmasculine Stede. And when he kills Karl, the seagull, there is no remorse, no apology, just excuses and jokes, because anything else would be a weakness. Through Jack, we see
part of Ed's past that helped shape him into who he is today. He went from this abusive household, straight into an abusive life
aboard ships like Hornigold's. Yet, while with Stede,
he's able to open up, be vulnerable, to cry about
the pain he went through. With Jack, he's forced to laugh about it. They're blase about enduring abuses together under Hornigold, and it emphasises for the
audience just how much Ed has been downplaying and joking about
genuinely messed up stuff. We see the more realistic portrayal of this kind of violence
at the end of the show, jarring against the comedic tone of the previous episodes overall. This is something that we see in some of the best kinds of comedy, I think. Shows or movies which
are, like, entertaining, they make you laugh, but, they are also able to switch
into something more serious. And, that lightheartedness,
the comedy from before, kind of emphasises that seriousness, rather than feeling, like
it doesn't fit with it. I would say a really
classic example of this that most people in the U.K.
will probably be familiar with, would be the end scene,
the finale episode, of "Black Adder Goes Forth". You can kinda forget while
watching the rest of the show that it's not just, like, a random historical period that
you're watching Black Adder, you know, have high jinks in again. But, specifically, it's in
like, the middle of the trenches in the middle of a war. And, that final episode
reminds you of that in the most emotionally devastating way. And so, in "Our Flag Means Death", you can kind of see this parallel
between the idea of, like, comedy and drama playing out
within Ed's own, like, psyche. You know, this macho
pretence is not who he is, not entirely, because he is unable to meld together the different parts of
himself to acknowledge that he can be someone
who likes fine fabrics, and joking around with his friends, and the thrill of adventure. You know, someone with a
capacity to be open and emotional without it being only in
moments of complete overwhelm when the dam finally breaks. Violence. Violence in pirate media, in fact, in a lot of genres of cinema, traditionally tied to white masculinity, is often seen as exciting spectacle, noble heroics, or proof of manhood. To be a man without violence
is not to be a man at all. Over and over in Stede's flashbacks, we see his father emphasise that violence and blood
are the mark of a man. And without them, Stede is worthless. The development of violence in the show, from farcical punchline to something with genuine
stakes and consequences, is one that's never quite
complete or uncomplicated. When Stede accidentally
kills Badminton in the pilot, there's a kind of dark humour there. Like, "Oh, okay, this is
a set up for the season. A mistaken identity kind of plot, where people think Stede is
a blood-thirsty murderer, but he's really a soft boy at heart. But, he's genuinely messed up about it. And his own psychological torment over it follows him across the series, weaving between dramatic
and comedic set ups. It's with him all the time, whether he is feeling sadness or joy, waiting just below the surface. As he faces the firing squad for his part in Badminton's death, he tells Ed, "I deserve this." He genuinely believes
that an accident that resulted in an awful man's death, that being unable to continue
living an unhappy life when you should have
stayed and put up with it, with his wife and children doing his duty, that, like, that should
rightfully end in him dying. Violence is not portrayed as something outside of civilised society, but taking place within and because of it. Ed reacts instinctively
with a violent jerk away at having his beard touched
at the high society party. There's a careless disregard
and disrespect for him as an individual with
agency in such a setting. A kind of dehumanising, emotional violence that is met with a kind of
fight or flight violence in return from Ed, if only for a moment. Compare that to the tenderness of having Stede fix his beard
while they're out camping, with Stede giving him the
opportunity to fix it himself, and then asking permission
to do it instead. It's a scene so apparent that it clues Lucius into their
blossoming romantic dynamic, far from the previous beard
touch earlier in the season. There's also, of course,
state-sanctioned violence. The Navy employs violence
against pirates and indigenous people regularly. And the show goes out of its way to not portray the British and
Spanish violence as superior, just, perhaps, better funded. Stede, too, is driven to violence. Not by his life on the high seas, which, would stereotypically
have been the catalyst for him to descend into violence, but by return to society. When he snarls out, "Unhand me or bleed", we see that his violence appears when he is forced into the pretence of husband in well-to-do society. The pressure to conform and
stifle himself once again becomes too much now that he's known the kind of freedom that is possible. The show doesn't portray violence as the default state of humanity, which only civil society can rectify. In fact, it suggests quite the opposite. That underneath it all, without
the trauma and the pressure, the characters in the show
are mostly just good people. Stede isn't changing Ed and
the crew of The Revenge with his kindness and attempts
at group therapy, he's revealing them. European and colonial
society, by contrast, is restrictive, war-mongering,
and indifferent to suffering. Violence is, in some ways, a pretence. Blackbeard's violence reemerges as a reaction to heartbreak and loss, but he still cries when he's alone. He says, "I am The Kraken" as more of an affirmation
than a confession. The violence itself is for show, for others, and for himself, but it can still have
very real consequences. Stede says, "I've been the cause of death, it changes you forever." Izzy is happy at Blackbeard's
violent return because it's the only form of
respect that he knows. If a captain is violent,
then he's a real man. He's powerful, he's driven. And if that show of violence is there, then you don't have to
go through vulnerability because your suffering is
enduring the physical pain, and that's easier to bear. And then there's the scene where Ed teaches Stede how
to survive a stab wound by forcing Stede to actually stab him, goading him on, threatening to shoot him, and then laughing when he does it. Izzy overhears the moaning as Stede tries to pull his blade out of Ed's
torso and assumes it's sexual. And, you know what? Izzy's kind of not wrong. It's intimacy expressed in a
fun house mirror version of the socially-acceptable
moment of male confrontation. We know from Jack that Ed isn't opposed to sex with another man, but he isn't used to the
emotional, romantic intimacy that a relationship with
Stede is headed towards. So, he replaces it with what he knows: the intimacy of direct combat, of teaching him tricks
he's learnt over the years, of bringing him close and trusting him enough to
be physically vulnerable. It's like the most intense
version of that bizarre, gay trope where men
have to punch each other before they're allowed to
kiss on screen, but, like, this time the punching is like, actively consensual, and
with swords, I guess. Okay, so at this point in the video, I just wanted to let you in on a little secret,
behind-the-scenes-style. I have a very bad memory, and also don't have a teleprompter like normal, professional,
smart people might do when they have to read
a 15,000-word script to camera in one go. So, instead, I use a theatre technique
called recorded delivery using a recording I made of the script being fed to me through an earbud. And what better sponsor to have for my longest scripted video to-date than said earbuds themselves: the Everday Earbuds from Raycon, that have honestly been a dream to record with this entire time. They came with a bunch
of sizes of gel tips, so I could choose the most comfortable fit for my ears specifically. And, means that even when I
am energetically pretending to be a pirate on the deck of The Revenge while listening to "The
Chain" on repeat for an hour, they still stay in place. I'm pretty sure YouTube
would remove me just playing the actual song "The Chain", but, I guess I have this
royalty-free example instead. They offer 8 hours of playtime
and a 32-hour battery life, which I'm going to need if I want to film this entire script in one day. You can get quality
audio at half the price of other premium audio brands, backed up by over 48,000 5-star reviews. So, if you're looking
for some new earbuds with a cheeky discount and would
like to help support my channel, then click the link in the description or go to buyraycon.com/rowan to get 15% off your Raycon purchase. Revenge. Similarly to the exploration of violence, "Our Flag Means Death"
also links thematically, over and over, to the idea of revenge. I mean, Stede's ship is
literally called The Revenge, although, that feels maybe more like a silly little boy naming
a ship something that sounded cool, not realising
how fitting it would become. The revenge plot, as a story, is a popular one with a long history, tied to older ideas of honour, and continuing to be popular in a kind of, like, unfulfilled fantasy way. Most of us never get to do a
vengeance ourselves anymore, so, revenge in fiction is justice, it's fair, it's the great motivator. And, a lot of the time, it's being sought by
justified protagonists. Or else, it's an antagonist going too far, seeking revenge outside of the acceptable levels of violence, disproportionate to the original offence. We get classic kinds of revenge narratives in the stories of Jim and Jackie, and Stede and Badminton's brother. When we find out about Jim's quest to avenge their family's deaths, it's something put on
them by external forces: the nun who took Jim in
and taught them to fight. We also find out that,
left to their own devices, they've only killed one
of the gang responsible. It is, in many ways, a cycle of violence that
Jim has been raised into rather than one that they
chose for themselves. The decision to stay in Saint Augustine and leave the crew, especially Olu, is ultimately not the right one. Jackie herself gives the show's seeming thesis on the
concept of revenge itself, telling Jim, "You can't end up like me. All the revenge, the rage,
the anger, it ages you." A warning on how these things
can negatively impact you and not just the people
that you're pursuing. It's played in a style typical
of the show, with humour, as Jackie reveals that she
is, in fact, in her twenties. Such is the ageing and
damaging effect on her health. But, the more serious message
is there, below the surface: who does this actually help? How is this justice
and where does it stop? Badminton's brother's obsession with revenge for his brother's death means he's unable to concede for
Stede as a human being anymore. "You're a monster. A plague.
You defile beautiful things." It's this capacity for dehumanisation that allows you to be driven to do awful things for the sake of revenge, that justify to yourself
any means and any ends. And playing these two storylines of Jim and Badminton's brother
alongside each other is an interesting one,
because, ultimately, they're both looking for the same thing: a kind of violent justice for
the death of their family. I saw someone comment as
a criticism of the show that they set up Jim to go
on this big revenge quest, and then they just decided to
leave and go back to the crew. But, that's kind of the point, right? Class, race, and empire. Okay, so, the choice to explore or ignore real life issues in historical
media is a complex one. The catch with the
historically-accurate trump card of showing that people who weren't, you know, cis, straight, white, able-bodied
men did actually exist and have agency before the 21st century. It's that their reality was one inevitably affected by
the power structures that made that the false idea of
history in the first place. "Bridgerton" has been criticised
since its first season for stumbling at this hurdle. Creating a supposed, like,
race-blind alternate world with a black queen of
England, only to reveal that, in a kind of like, half-hearted way, like, "Oh, racism does actually exist
in this world, by the way." And, for many viewers,
not doing a great job of satisfying either premise in the process. "Our Flag Means Death", on the other hand, doesn't do race-blind casting. It specifically includes
plot lines and counters and backstories for its characters
of colour that match with the kind of treatment that
they might expect at the time. But, it also gives them a sense of agency that matches with the tone of the show, as well as story lines
outside of those areas. I think we're pretty used to trauma as a narrative motivator in our media today, because, the idea is
that compelling stories are about the most
important thing to happen to that character in their life. Like, that's the reason why you're telling that
character's story at that time. And there is this idea that
that has to be trauma, right? And, in many cases, that trauma
has to be shown on screen. And, for marginalised characters, their marginalisation must be involved. Like, this concept is nothing new. If you look up the term, like, "misery porn" as a huge part of the representation of
marginalised people, like, it's the reason that so many
films about black people that are made, and especially celebrated, are slavery narratives. And, although there are
obviously some amazing, like, TV shows and movies that
deal with this premise of, like, marginalised
trauma, a lot of the time, you know, narratives that
don't do it so well are either gonna end with this kind
of, like, abject misery, or a kind of didactic lesson for
the non-marginalized audience. For a comedy especially,
it would seem jarring to enmesh the characters in such trauma. But, the very premise of
a bunch of black, brown, queer, poor pirates set during
a time of colonial rule means that there was a decision to be made about how to balance these elements. The show decides to deal with it by making the colonial powers and people the punchline themselves,
pretty much every time. It's something Taika Waititi
himself has spoken on. "I think any colonial country
is ripe fodder for comedy. Someone mentioned, "Oh,
you make fun of cultures?" And I said, "What cultures?" And they went, "the British". And I was like, "Oh, I'm cool with that." He's, of course, no stranger
to taking horrific times and characters from history and
giving them a humorous spin. Himself, a Jewish man playing
Hitler in "Jo Jo Rabbit" as a comedic, like, imaginary friend figure
to a young German boy. Where some people feel uncomfortable about the idea of laughing
at this kind of tragedy, his method of using
humour to reveal a kind of pathetic weakness at the
heart of powerful villains, is one that many have found cathartic. We see in the party scene
where the gathered aristocrats excite themselves over the idea of the study of the human skull, a classic racist area of "study", that those in this
position of social power see themselves as logical. This is order, this is
science, this is truth. But, by placing the
marginalised as a straight man in these setups and having
the oppressor characters as the butt of the joke or the ones that are so obviously in the wrong, you have the chance to
expose their supposed truths as unfounded reality. Like, the things that
they think are logical are, in fact, entirely laughable. The "veneer" of civilization has been criticised many times through literature, in books like "Lord of
the Flies", for example. But, in many of these explorations,
the idea is often that society is the only thing stopping the ultimately "savage" nature of
humanity from running rampant. The show, itself, is kind of saying the opposite in many ways. Just look at the relative equality on Stede's ship with good wages, compared to the stark
racism and classism of the British "civilised" sailors. Badminton's brother has to
ask for the state's permission to kill Stede because violence is something that civilization supports if it's against the right people. And, we see in the scenes of
indigenous populations that European civilization does this violence at levels of brutality and
magnitudes that is incomparable to individual pirates or criminals. I don't think it's an accident that Ed and Stede are able, finally, to dream of running away
together while in plain tunics, free of the uniforms of
their respective lives. Freedom is tied to a
releasing of expectations and pressures tied to class and station, because class is a fundamental part of Ed and Stede as characters. It reveals their strengths
and their insecurities. Ed is fascinated at first by Stede's fine clothes and fancy ship, but it also becomes this
source of insecurity, an unspoken question: am
I good enough for him? Stede is this upper-class gentleman, but he's also ostracised
from that society and doesn't attempt to act as a saviour or "civilizer" to the
other characters either. He's kind of clueless. There's a kind of pressure
in the labelling of him as a "stupid, little rich boy" and his journey of becoming a captain as trying to figure out what
he can be outside of that. Except, in this first season, he's using his family money to fund this attempt at being his own person. It's not until the very final
scenes of the show that we see him with even that support
removed from under him, giving up his family money and the clothes and books it affords him to return to Ed in the same plain tunic that symbolised them as equals, removed from the trappings of society. So, it'll be interesting
to see if, in season 2, they deal with him being a silly, little not-so-rich boy anymore instead. The privileges of Stede's birth are not lost on us as an audience. The fact is that the
Gentleman Pirate is only able to be so useless because
he has his family fortune. He uses that for good, you
know, to pay his crew, but, it is, itself, a privilege
for him to have the luxury to be able to not take prizes
or risk violence at first. Olu tells him, "We're pirates because
we don't have a choice." The rest of them are criminals,
servants, potentially even former slaves who don't have
the "acreage" that Stede does to support them in having adventures. The literacy of most of the
crew is pointed out often. Most often in passing or
as a handy plot point, but it's another untapped source
of tension and development that I would love to see
dug into next season. It's, of course, impossible to talk about the way that this show handles
class and not also talk about the way it deals with how
that intersects with race. It's an unsurprising move from this particular creative team, but the show is careful to ensure that Stede doesn't, like, "civilise" the crew. His therapist-esque techniques
are not learnt from society, but, they're in fact made
up of ways that he, himself learned to deal with how
it treated him badly. He doesn't force the crew into, like, a "My Fair Lady"-style makeover, even though he clearly, you know, has enough clothes for them all to do so. Instead, only giving them
the upper class clothes and "training" when it literally
is a life or death situation trying to fool the British Navy. In the episode where Olu and Frenchie pose as the Crown Prince
of Egypt and his viceroy in order to scam the aristocrats, their pretended class status
can't protect them from racism. But, it's pointed that
while the supposed friends at the party end the evening tearing each other's throats out
and their ship burning down, Olu and Frenchie form a bond with Abshir and the other workers on the ship, helping each other, and
ultimately, you know, leaving the ship burning in their wake while the people who used to
be serving on the ship itself are able to sail away safely
with all of their riches. Storytelling and performance. Ed and Stede's character arcs revolve around their
relationship to storytelling, but in very different ways. The show associates Stede
with the written word: books, plays, and journals. Meanwhile, Ed is tied to oral storytelling and
theatrical performance. Let's start with Stede. So, at some point in Stede's childhood, he began to read books about pirates. He became obsessed with
these stories about adventurous men living
beyond social norms. Norms that Stede struggled to meet. As I mentioned before, Stede's parents and peers constantly made him feel like he wasn't man enough. And so, as a coping mechanism,
Stede became a romantic. And I mean that in the worst way possible. Like, through the distance of his books, Stede romanticised a life of violence. A life that, as Olu points out, nobody besides Stede actually chose. And this romanticization damages Stede's ability to perceive reality. In the first episode, he groups
himself with Olu as being, like, born to piracy, and that's in part due to the fact that Stede doesn't want to be a real pirate. He wants to be born to be a fictional one. He keeps creating this character
of the Gentleman Pirate by, you know, taking credit
for Badminton's murder, trying to establish brand recognition at the Pirate's Republic
with matching costumes, and making Lucius give him
grand, scripted introductions. He even hires Lucius as a scribe to literally turn his life
into a written story. In fact, a lot of Stede's
piracy choices are book related. He builds a library in his quarters, he loots books from other ships, he reads aloud to the crew. In the first episodes Stede reads the story of
"Pinocchio" to his crew. "Pinocchio" is, you know, a lying puppet who wants to be a real boy, and after several misadventures
involving, you know, being swallowed by a whale, the Blue Fairy grants Pinocchio
his wish and makes him real. Stede, like Pinocchio, is not perceived to be
a real boy or real man. When he meets Blackbeard, Stede sees a blue fairy, someone who can make him real. Replace the word 'pirate' with 'man' and think about the conversations
between Stede and Ed. I'm not a real pirate. I'm a terrible pirate. I'll teach you the ways of being a pirate. Stede's read stories about
Blackbeard and, in his mind, the fictionalised book
version of Blackbeard, with his nine guns, is real. Stede seeks his realness through his relationship with Blackbeard, and, ironically, by
fictionalising his own life. And it kind of works, I guess? In the penultimate episode, Badminton's evil twin
dismisses Stede's plea for an act of grace because act of grace only applies to "real pirates". But, Lucius saves Stede
by reading from his log. The exaggerated, written
version of Stede's piracy lead The Navy to turn
on Badminton's twin and deems Stede a real pirate. By the end of the season, Stede
faked it until he made it. Very Anna Delvey of him. Now, let's talk about Ed. So, Ed doesn't have the
luxury of literacy, but, he is very good at theatrical
performances and storytelling. That includes the stories
he tells about himself and the ones told about him by others. Remember, the first time we
meet Blackbeard is through Black Pete's totally
fake story in episode 2. But, whether it's
performance or storytelling, Ed uses this narrative
to dehumanise himself. In his story, Black Pete describes a smoke-face monster with glowing eyes. And Ed, himself, uses smoke and wires to create the appearance of
apparition and levitation to much the same effect. But, Ed's dehumanisation
through storytelling is most obvious with the kraken story. Stede and Ed are telling
ghost stories to the crew, paralleling Stede reading to
the crew in the first episode. It's very cute. It's like Ed is The Revenge's new stepdad. Stede's ghost story, obviously, sucks. Ed, however, tells a
horrifying story about how he, as a child, saw the
kraken kill his father. Later in the episode, after
failing to kill Stede, Ed confesses that he killed his father. He is the kraken. He turned himself into a monster as a way to distance himself
from the violence he committed. Likewise, Ed created Blackbeard as this kind of separate entity
as a way to protect himself while being the pirate that
he needs to be to survive. By the time we meet Ed, the pressure of constantly
performing as Blackbeard has taken its toll. Within a few minutes of talking to him, Ed plots to kill his Blackbeard identity and assume Stede's instead. But, as he falls in love with Stede, Ed realises that he can let go
of the Blackbeard persona and just be himself instead of
assuming another identity. In "Act of Grace", Ed, now
freshly shaven, feels relief, not just at ending his
performance as Blackbeard, but at rediscovering
what it means to be Ed. For the first time in decades, he's not working for Blackbeard. He can just be himself. And he can focus on what makes Ed happy. But, Stede isn't quite there yet. Even though he accepts Ed's proposal to go live their best gay lives in China, there's still a sense of unease. Stede's upset to see that
Ed has shaved his beard, saying, "You can't be
Blackbeard without the beard". Ed, on the other hand, is totally at peace with the decision. It's Stede that finds it unnerving. Ed points out Blackbeard
itself was a misnomer. Like, his beard hasn't been
black since he was way younger. When Badminton's twin forces Stede to walk into the woods at gunpoint and accuses him of being a fraud, he ruins everything he
touches, including Blackbeard, Stede agrees. At this point, he doesn't see Ed letting go of the Blackbeard
performance as a victory, he sees it as a failure. In the last episode, we see Stede and Ed swap
methods of storytelling. Stede successfully pulls off
a theatrical performance and fakes his death, killing
off his original identity, and retiring to a life of piracy. It shows how much Stede has
learned from Blackbeard. His fake death mirroring Ed's
original plan for them both. And Ed turns towards written storytelling in the form of songwriting. He teams up with Lucius to write down lyrics for his breakup song. He's having a very "Red"
era Taylor Swift moment. Before, Ed used storytelling as a form of disguise and deception. But, in this scene, with
him dictating lyrics, it's the first time he's used storytelling as a method of self-reflection
and self-expression. But, of course, this moment doesn't last. When Izzy shoves Stede's
pirate book in Ed's face claiming, you know, the inaccurate drawing shows the real Blackbeard, Ed regresses. He puts on the eyeliner, he
makes Izzy eat some toes, and throws all the books
and Lucius into the sea. He completely rejects the
written form of storytelling by removing art as a means
of self-expression. He's once again distancing
his real self from the person he needs to be to survive, because right now being
Ed is far too painful. Found family. So, found family, as a trope and as a real life experience, is very queer. By definition, found family opposes the extreme individualism
of toxic masculinity, where emotional connection to other people and also yourself are a weakness. From a group ready to mutiny any second to a cohesive crew jumping to
their captain's defence, the ensemble cast of the show
become a classic example of this trope by the end of the ten episodes. Honestly, this entire
thing may just have been Stede's elaborate plan to make
friends, and you know what? It worked! Rewatching the show, you really appreciate even more how the crew's relationship
with Stede and each other is so contrasted from the start to the end of just this short season. In episode 3, Jim literally tells Stede, "You're the worst (bleep)
pirate captain in history". Besides Olu and Jim, nobody on the crew
trusts each other at all. But, slowly these walls
start to break down, initially through Stede's
facilitating a kind of radical community support that the others find confusingly at odds with the cynical and unhealthy emotional lives that they've been living. He regularly runs a kind
of on-board group therapy, encouraging them to communicate
and share their emotions. In a parallel storyline, we find out later in the show
that his estranged wife, Mary, has found her own similar
community of widows, as well as finding herself without Stede. She was happier with him
gone, quite honestly. But, that isn't a bad thing. Rewatching also gave a
particularly depressing twist on the joke delivery of, you know, if someone comes home from
the raid mentally devastated, we talk it through as a crew! Knowing that there is a lot of mental devastation coming for Ed. But, you know, talking it through as a
crew doesn't really happen. Like, maybe Ed should
have been in that class. There's a real sense of
fun amongst the group, with them all joining in group activities and eventually enjoying
these schemes together. And it's not just a general sense of community and found family.
The show goes out of its way to demonstrate specifically queer support. The crew have a space where they feel not just accepted in their queerness, but appreciated because of it. Lucius is able to use his experience as a kind of matchmaker between Stede and Ed, in his own upfront way, calling
Ed a middle-aged sad sack who will die alone if he
doesn't go after Stede. And then, as a sort of anti-wingman, too, saying, "Oh, I'm good at
breakups" just as supportively. Olu literally says that
he can be Jim's family, offering the same
unconditional love and support that Jim had lost so many years ago. This is backed up by the rest of the crew, who are curious about Jim's disguise but, after some questions, quickly slip into using the
right name and pronouns. We also see how Stede doesn't
fit into his old life anymore. The community he's built, the
family he's found on the ship, as well as this
newly-discovered queer identity, makes him happier than the heterosexual life he was forced into. Look, the sea is gay,
the land is straight. I will not elaborate. And, I do not make the rules. And it's not just an
overarching family dynamic. Specifically, we see a kind of parenting dynamic from Ed
and Stede towards the crew. I mean, Stede literally reads them bedtime
stories with fun voices. He models what good and
fair parenting should be, in contrast to the abusive fathers both he and Ed endured as children. The moment that we see he has put all of the flag designs up
on the mast is so precious because we understand that
the group doesn't need to be encouraged to
compete with each other, but to respect each other, to be treated as equals. After Stede wakes up, you know, the first time that he almost dies, the first thing he asks about is his crew. Like, the very first thing. That's early in the season. It's embedded in him by that point to care about them as a priority. And then, when Ed and Stede "break up" after Ed leaves with Jack, he treats the crew like kids
in the middle of a divorce. You know, neither of us
will love you any less, this isn't your fault. This echoing of familiar,
cliche parental phrases is, in some ways, about the humour of the
situation, on the surface. Grown adults acting
like messy teenagers or petulant toddlers. But, it's also a genuine demonstration of the familial ties that
are weaving their way through the group. It's undeniable that
one of the key reasons why the show has become
so popular so quickly is its numerous queer characters. And the way that the word of mouth has spread about the fact that this slow burn doesn't
end in queerbaiting. So, for that reason, it felt like it would be a misstep to not do a section of this
video deep diving into some of these characters specifically and how they're handled in the show. Jim. So, Jim's an unusual character
for television in that they are a live action
non-binary character played by a non-binary actor. We see non-binary rep increasing, but only by fractions. So, it's always great when we see it in such a central character, especially one that the actor themselves seems so excited about. One of the great things
about the show is the fact it makes clear the distinction between women dressing as men to avoid, you know, the powerlessness and sexism of the era, and an actual non-binary
or trans character. Both are, of course, possibilities, and I know that a lot
of people are hoping for an Anne Bonny or Mark/Mary
Read cameo next season, which can play into this idea even more. What seemed to have started as a way to escape from Jackie's vengeance
becomes a way for Jim to explore and understand themselves
and their gender better, with it becoming a more
solid part of their identity by the end of the season. I think it's really significant
and very exciting that, although Jim initially
has this disguise that helps them kind of figure
out some stuff about gender because they, you know... The way that other people perceive them, the way that they feel with
this kind of disguise on, and how these things
interact with each other. The show then allows Jim to, like, throw the disguise away
and to still be validated and still be kind of seen
as non-binary by themselves, by the crew, and by the audience. Like, Jim's gender expression
externally does not have to have anything to do with their gender presentation outwardly. And the show also gives Jim a backstory separate from their gender. Made even more unusual by the fact that we get an exploration of that backstory in the same season as Jim is figuring out how they want to identify. The show is like, "Turns out, queer people can have more
than one thing going on at the same time!" You know,
they don't just stop so they can have a big queer crisis. When asked, "So, this whole
time you were a woman?" They respond, "Yes, I
guess? I don't know?" Eventually, in no uncertain terms, how they want the others to
think about them as Jim still and that's pretty much that. Jim also gets a romance in this season. A lovely friends to lovers, awkward, flirty, slow burn cuteness that is
(kissing sound) chef's kiss. At no point does Olu have
a crisis about, like, "What does this mean if I like Jim? Oh my god. So fraught, so complex." He's just like, "Oh no, I like my friend. Are we gonna kiss, though, please?" That's not to say that the
figuring out of your sexuality when you fall for someone whose
identity is shifting isn't something that makes
for interesting stories. But, it's great to see a lack of drama around a non-binary person
being seen as desirable. Especially given the show
does such a great job of never making someone's
desirability a joke or a surprise. Whether they are, like, queer, fat, gender-nonconforming, or otherwise. Black Pete and Lucius. So, I was fully ready to hate Black Pete, but they really went full-out on this kind of quiet character
development in the background that ends with him still
being an annoying little man, but with such silly
tenderness at the same time that you kind of can't help but like him. He is so obviously affected by that kind of toxic
masculinity posturing that I talked about earlier in the video. But, I loved how they
didn't tie it in with, like, insecurities and violence brought on by internalised homophobia. I've just seen way too many of that, like, homophobic, sexist,
bully-is-actually-gay trope to be able to handle that again. Especially as they paired
him with the openly queer ray of sunshine that is Lucius. The fact that the show makes Lucius's cuteness and femininity
desirable and not laughable is depressingly rad, to be honest. And when they get together
later in the season, there's an interesting
reflection of the development that Pete has been going
through since the first episode where he postures about, like, the feminine women's work of sewing being something to be derided. Like, it's growth, people! We're seeing growth! That same breaking down of heteronormativity and
gender roles is continued through their storyline, with confirmation that
they're happily polyamorous. When Izzy tries to blackmail Lucius by revealing to Pete that he's
been drawing the crew naked in an attempt to ruin his
reputation and relationship, Pete just thinks its, like, cool. The declaration, "we
don't own each other", very much gives us non-heteronormative
relationship vibes. A legitimate relationship that gives them both freedom
that they both want. It's also a relationship where
they see each other's flaws. Lucius literally saying, "I love that man, but
leadership's not his strength". He knows Pete is prone to
exaggeration and posturing, and he just sees right through it because he also gets to see the same man whittle a
prosthetic finger just for him, or share casual pet names with each other, like sweetie and babe, or reach out to cuddle during
the night sleeping on deck. The show's choice to have a
canon on-screen queer couple from around the halfway point, I think, particularly played off
the viewers worried that the Stede-Ed relationship would be an end-of-season plot twist
or queerbait situation. And I think that the ending
for Lucius this season, especially in many other shows, would not have been given
the benefit of the doubt it has been by the fandom so far. I can see other shows pulling a like, Lucius overboard moment, and
the think piece is about, like, the bury your gays trope
kinda write themselves, but there is such trust in
the writers of this show that everyone watching just kind of went, "Wow, I wonder what will happen when Lucius is fished out of the
sea totally alive, huh?" I am personally a huge
fan of the theory that he managed to catch the side
of the ship on his way down and has been hiding in the
secret passages that Stede put into the ship this entire time. Stede and Ed. Do you like
enemies-to-friends-to-lovers romance? The wearing each other's clothes trope? Emotional confessions in the moonlight? Grumpy, gruff boy falls
for sunshine child? Slow burn pairing? Might I interest you in Stede and Ed? Or, Sted? BlackStede? Stedward? Gentlebeard? I don't know that we've settled on a ship name yet. Ed and Stede are the almost quintessential
idea of opposites attract. With the plot itself hinging on them exploring and
appreciating their differences and learning from each other. They see the positives in each other that they can't see in themselves. One of the most delightful
things about their relationship is how many tropes it employs. Like, "Dude, is it gay to
tend to your wounds and watch your sleeping face, wishing I could know you
and soothe your nightmares?" You also have the
sharing-each-other's-clothes thing, which is, again, very Chad and Ryan. The whole
enemies-to-friends/friends-to-lovers
thing, like, "I meant to kill you, but I
can't bring myself to". Amazing. There's also a scene where Stede
knows how Ed takes his tea, which, I feel, very
domestic, intimate knowledge. And, of course, the whole
Jack plot line is just, like, an ex-boyfriend coming to town to make the love interest jealous. But, the show also continually
subverts and plays with expectations and tropes, too. At the start, you could easily assume that the more emotionally expressive Stede would be the one pining after Ed, and Ed would lag behind and have to begrudgingly be dragged into love. But, in the end, it's
essentially the opposite, with Ed realising his feelings first and Stede having to literally abandon all that makes him happy
to go back to the life he should lead to realise that, like, it's been love all along. I talked earlier about the red silk being a physical
manifestation of Ed's love, but I think there's another reading I find just as interesting. This scrap from his mother is a reminder of his low-class status, and the distance he feels that creates between himself and
soft and beautiful things. What draws him to Stede
and the fancy party is that he desires that life for himself, but it doesn't feel like a part of him. It doesn't feel like it fits until Stede incorporates it
effortlessly into his outfit, showing Ed that Stede doesn't see him as unworthy of that kind of beauty, but that he, in fact, is that kind of beauty in Stede's eyes. When he says, "You were fine things well", Stede is telling Ed, "This scrap that symbolises what you thought you couldn't have is, in fact, something that fits you perfectly." In this way, when he lets
it go in the season finale, he's letting go of the hope he
had for a better life beyond the desperation and injustice
he's suffered so far. The irony, of course, being that Stede, a man who's wished for
love his entire life, has always been told that
love is for peasants. In a way, it makes total sense that the red silk has both of these meanings. And for both of them to be seen as positives to Stede when they are such negatives to Ed. And, speaking of metaphors and motifs, we need to talk about the lighthouse. So, you know, it starts as
a symbol of this kind of, you know, disconnect
between Mary and Stede, with her thinking of it as a
romantic anniversary gift and him thinking that it's something
that the children painted. And then, it's this plot point focused around Ed and Stede's
compatibility, their bonding, using it as inspiration to
save the day in episode 4. As Ed points out, you want to
stay away from lighthouses, as they signal to danger, and
so, by the end the season, the painting's significance
changes for a third time. It remains the one thing of Stede's that Ed keeps on the ship
in the final episode. Not as a nostalgic reminder of
their time working together, but as a physical
manifestation of the idea that you stay away from lighthouses
for your own safety. In keeping it, Ed is reminding himself every day why he has to be Blackbeard again: to keep himself from being dashed on the rocks
that are Stede Bonnet. This show really feels like a slow burn, but you kind of have
to remind yourself that the whole thing is less
than a dozen episodes. And from when Stede and Ed
actually meet to the kiss, is what, like, five episodes? And their relationship develops like, with every single episode. It's always progressing in some way. The concept of "show don't tell" is an interesting one in storytelling. The idea that instead of
stating something aloud, you should, instead, or as well as, have it shown in the character's actions. The interesting thing about this as a screenwriting
philosophy is that it's the perfect recipe for
queerbaiting when used badly. Because queer fans will
see a movie or TV series "apparently showing" and think, "Well, they don't have to
tell right away, right? Like, this is subtle. This is just nuanced storytelling". When really, it's just queerbaiting, and the tell is never going to come. But, when the tell does arrive and we get on-screen,
undoubtable confirmation, the showing can be that
much more impactful. It takes on new meaning. Like, when Ed confesses to a
murder that he didn't commit to try to get Stede off the charges. We see him signing on to a
ten year sentence for Stede to follow him in his banishment. So, when we get to the
scene where Ed confesses, "right now, I just want
to do what Makes Ed happy. So, I reckon, what makes Ed happy is you" and makes a plan to run away together, it doesn't feel out of the blue, even though it still
surprised some queer fans who are used to being burned
by teased relationships that never come to fruition. I think because of this
very trust being rewarded, what happens next hasn't put queer viewers
off the show, right? The breakup happens
almost immediately after they "get together". We don't actually get to see
them as like, a happy couple. And yet, people have been feeling hopeful because of how the
relationship was handled through earlier episodes. They didn't just end with Stede leaving on a big, sad cliffhanger. They let us see beyond that to the tipping point of him
realising that he loves Ed and going to get him back. The montage of Ed and Stede's scenes over Mary's description of love, about showing each other new things, laughing a lot, passing
the time together well, is so wonderfully done because not only is it, you know,
a very cute montage, but it also affirms like, all of the showing the queer
audience has picked up on, but that we've been punished for doing in other actually-queerbaiting shows. Like, "Hey, remember all those scenes that you looked at and went, "That's pretty gay but I don't
know if they'll go there!" Like, no, they were! Those were all gay! Here they are in like, a single montage, validating everything
that you were thinking". The return of Blackbeard at
the end of the first season is such a devastating, but also, kind of exciting conclusion. It gets us to a point of
real tension and conflict with Stede and Ed both having gone through huge emotional transformations
over the course of the show. The stakes have risen and we
really have no idea how it will all play out and what the
reunion will look like. I think it was particularly
smart of the writers to leave a lot of the ending ambiguous. We don't know, for example, if part of Ed's descent
back into Blackbeard is because he hears of
Stede's apparent death. If that's the case, then killing Lucius wasn't just about removing the person who could potentially bring him out of his anger and sadness. But also, potentially
about punishing the person who made him want to open up to that love and vulnerability
in the first place. But, I mean, we also don't
know if Lucius is alive or not, I guess, technically. And we also have no real idea
of how much time passed within the events of that final episode either. I mean, these questions all allow for a lot of freedom going into season 2. And I hope they use it with
the support they've had so far from the queer community in mind. I don't necessarily think
that they would screw us over, but, you know, "Killing Eve" is looming large
in peoples' minds as of late. The future of the show. At this point, there is
already a huge campaign for the show to be renewed, and judging by its popularity, like, it would be ridiculous for them not to come back for at
least another season. I know I joked at the start about the show's creator not knowing
queerbaiting was a thing, but I did then just spend
the rest of the video talking about how great the show is. So, like, I'm not trying to dunk on him. But, I will say just now
that him and Taika have said some stuff that makes me go, like, "Please, my dudes, hire a queer PR person or comms person to help you with these answers. Please stop saying answers
from the book of, like, straight-people-making-gay-movie
cliche interview quotes." Like Jenkins saying, "We aren't saying, "This
is a gay pirate show." This is a pirate show and that's it." When, like, my dude, the main reason people
are watching this show is because it very much is a gay pirate show. Or, Waititi saying, "I think people probably
don't expect it to ever happen because they're used to the
Mulder and Scully relationships where it's just, "We're never
going to let you see this, even though it's all very
obvious what we want to do."" Somehow using the only times
straight people ever got baited instead of like, comprehending
it as a genuine and disproportionate specific
issue of queer representation, it feels a little short-sighted lads! I really hope they continue to, like, listen to the queer people
in their cast and crew, and the fans who have
championed it to such heights with their enthusiasm and
word of mouth wildfire. The first season was so good, precisely because it
didn't have any hints at these kind of awkward interview missteps that we've seen since. So, with season 2 all but confirmed, people have been mining
any and all information they can find on any real lives
of the pirates in the show, for like, clues as to future storylines. I know probably more
than the average person about this group of pirates in particular. I'd say entirely because of my ridiculous "Black Sails" obsession. So, it's been my favourite thing
seeing people find out like, all of the little touches in the show. Like, the joke about
Blackbeard being annoyed that he's being portrayed
in the book with, like, scary smoke man with eight guns because he just has the
normal amount of guns. Like, it's even funnier
when you know literally any of the absolutely buck
wild stories about Blackbeard. Like, oh boy, Ed is gonna have to deal with a lot more
where that's coming from. Also, seeing people find out that Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet died a year after the events of season 1, let's hope that doesn't happen, I guess! I'm specifically waiting in future seasons for them to do something
kind of subversive with the Blackbeard's death
mythology, because that is a great story. We also see Blackbeard's
flag get completed by the end of this season with
the addition of the heart, that I know a lot of us were interested to see appear at some point. Now, I know, like, history is contentious
and some people are like, "Well, actually that wasn't
technically Blackbeard's flag", but, like, this is the flag everyone
knows as Blackbeard's flag. And so, I know a lot of us
who knew that were looking at his flag at the beginning
of the season like, "hmm. There seems to be something missing" and were very excited for it
to be revealed by the end. And it also leaves us with the question of when Stede will raise his
own historical flag, because look at it. It's gonna be good! There's also the real life pirates that mirror Jim's story in many ways and served as inspiration on the show. Like, Mark or Mary Read and Anne Bonny. In a world with, like, very
rigid rules about, like, "gendered clothing",
they dressed up as like, men or as women, sort of
just as it suited them. And there are definitely
fun storylines to be had with characters who are some
combination of like, you know, trans, non-binary disguised and/or in drag for various reasons. I'm personally a big
fan of the theory that Anne Bonny will be a teen girl who ends up as a kind of adopted
daughter to Ed and Stede. This is based on absolutely
nothing, no evidence, just what I think would be a fun dynamic. And I know that she was partnered with Calico Jack
in real life, but, like, he is the worst on this show. And also, Anne and Jack from "Black Sails" will always be the best queer
platonic soulmate version of those two historical figures, so, I am rooting for an alternative. The history of gay pirates. Okay, so I'm about to take you all on a brief roller coaster ride that, like Space Mountain at Disneyland Paris, might leave you kind of disappointed and in a bit of pain, I guess. So, in the aftermath of the show's release and wild popularity, a lot of articles have sprung up claiming that the show is
like, reflecting a kind of realistic queerness within
the world of pirates. Users have been excitedly
sharing Tumblr posts about something called a French
word I can't pronounce. Basically, a form of gay
marriage invented by buccaneers. Commenters furiously typing
in triumph, you know, like, "I knew it! Finally queer history on screen! Take that, heteros!" But, at the risk of being
the party pooper that bursts all the balloons and
pisses in the gift bags, the image being painted of pirate life as some kind of queer utopia
is not exactly the case. Like, okay. Let's look at the
gay pirate marriage thing. So, there are very few
written documents and only a handful of anecdotes, like, from the time around this practise. From what we can tell, there's like, one particular record from a
French buccaneer saying that it was something that
happened in the Caribbean, whereby two men would agree
to certain ties between them, including, like, inheritance, speaking and making decisions
on the other's behalf, sharing space on the ship, joining each other's assets for, kind of, mutual economic gain. He then expanded that it was a "general and solemn custom to seek out for a comrade or companion." This is one interpretation or account and we do know that there
are some inaccuracies that we can prove in his account, cross-referencing with other writings. So, he thought, for example, that this was a practise exclusive to buccaneers in the French Caribbean, when we know one of the most kind of preserved written documents
of such an arrangement was in Madagascar between two men, Francis Hood and John Beavis. That arrangement designated that "what gold, silver,
or any other thing will go to the surviving man
should the other die at sea." But, yeah, basically, in
the documents we have, there's not really ever any mention of romantic or sexual relationships
specifically between the men in these arrangements. But, the documents don't
preclude one, either. Most likely, most of these
arrangements were kind of just, you know, not by design, a form of official queer companionship, but an economic and social arrangement that could have been used to solidify sexual and romantic interests
of individual cases. There are a few other
records that have survived, including one written by a man in such a relationship himself. This is a fascinating example, as it involves a former
Black slave, Equiano, in "an extremely fond"
relationship with a man, Baker, who was a white American
from a slave-owning family. Equiano wrote that the two
were "inseparable" from the time they met as teenagers and went through "many sufferings
together on shipboard" and would spend their nights
"lain in each other's bosoms during times of great distress." Clearly, there was a
reciprocal emotional bond between the two. But, this was the length to which the physicality in the book is described. The formal union was
in place for two years, but they seemed to have
continued their bond for the rest of their lives
on an emotional level. "Thus such a friendship
was cemented between us as we cherished till his death, which to my very great sorrow, happened in the year 1759." Is it gay marriage? It's not a no, it's not a yes either. There really wasn't the
same expressible language for it at the time. Where's like, gay and homosexual
are more modern inventions, and surviving documents at the time were much more likely to use
criminalising language, like buggery, than something neutral or
tied to identity in any way. And even if there were
definitive and recognisable ways to describe queerness as we now know it, this was also a time when being a man in a sexual
relationship with another man was punishable by, like, imprisonment or death in
basically the entire world. That kind of fear is
inevitably going to have a censoring effect on any more permanent written documentation, and that's if the men
could read and write enough to make a record that
could survive at all. Sorry, I'll stop pissing in
everyone's corn flakes now. If you've watched some
videos on my channel before, you'll probably know that, like, the questions of like, queer history, how we discover it, how we document it, like, the difficulties of that, is something that I am
very passionate about. And so, when I see, kind
of, articles being shared with people like, without sources, or, like, the source is another article, like, it just keeps
going 'round in a circle, I wanna do some digging. I wanna fact check, and that is what I have found. Like, I get it, the pirates
are gay meme is very fun, and I also think, like, I've literally just done an entire video talking about the ways in
which, like, thematically, it makes sense for pirates to be gay, but, yeah, moving on! There's also the history
of gay pirate media, or, as I like to call it, all pirate media! We've come for the cowboys,
we're comin' for the pirates. As a genre, they rarely concern themselves with historical accuracy. In film, piracy is as much
about a life of freedom as it is about a life of crime. They sing, like, a whole song about that in "Muppets Treasure
Island" and everything. Pirates get to live a life
not just outside of the law, but outside of societal norms, including the norms of
gender and sexuality. Take "Pirates of the Caribbean". For Elizabeth Swan,
piracy isn't about, like, strategically stealing cargo. It's about, you know, an escape from social
expectations of gender and class. It's through piracy that
Elizabeth has the space to be with Will Turner, the
person that she really loves. Not the person that society
wants her to be with. Elizabeth and Will are, honestly, the gayest hetero couple ever put to film. Again, I will not be elaborating on it, and I also don't make the rules. At least not until I finally get 'round to my "in defence
of Elizabeth Swan" video essay that I know a lot of people
are still waiting for. It's coming, I promise! "Black Sails", on the other hand, makes the queer subtext
of piracy just, like, straight up text. Again, I already made a whole video about how underrated the show is, but basically, "Black Sails"
uses the backdrop of piracy as a way to explore queer relationships at a time when they were outright illegal. Like, by mid-season 2, the entire overarching plot of the show is revealed to be fueled by queer rage. It's great. Pirates are already
breaking all sorts of laws, so, they're like, why not break the gender and sexuality
laws while they're at it? And, until "Our Flag Means Death", "Black Sails" was the only
pirate TV show or movie that kind of explicitly explored
queer relationships in this really focused, like, lead role way, at least that the internet's
been able to find, anyway. Fan reactions. The fan reaction to the show, as I eluded to throughout this video, has been incredible, but also reasonably unexpected. Not only was the show not in any of the big roundups of queer TV before it started airing, it also wasn't in any of
them as it was airing. The fact that they kept the queer elements of the
show seemingly pretty quiet in that pre-show time and during the show itself until the kiss, meant that initial viewers
talked about the show with a kind of frantic excitement and disbelief when that kiss came. Like, they needed people to
be watching this show, too. They had to find someone
to talk to about it. They found this gem that,
like, they wanted share because they didn't see it being shared where they might expect
for it being a queer show. The fandom is forming in front of our eyes and it's fascinating. There's this amazing account on TikTok, @Ceceliaisgray, that's been doing, like, analysis of the tags and data from AO3 in the mere weeks since
the show's, kind of, finished airing and it is wild. Like, you can see patterns of like, tags being reused by
completely different authors, that are gonna become, I think,
like, staples of the fandom. So, she looked, for example, at the difference between
the amount of fanfic that was being posted
before the show officially, you know, confirmed it
wasn't queerbaiting. We got the kiss in episode 9. And then after that
happened, and found like, a reasonably small amount before, and then an average of, like,
100 new fics a day since. There have been, like, dozens, probably like hundreds at this point, of articles about the
show and its success. And, I know that there are at least two long-form video essays already out about the show that I did not watch, so as not to be decimated by self-doubt and imposter
syndrome while making this one. TikTok is full of reactions and cosplay and meta theories about the show. Tumblr is awash with memes. And everyone is obsessed with Con O'Neill liking every Tweet that suggests that Izzy is a pain sub
in love with Blackbeard. Honestly, like, all the
interactions between the creators of the show and fans have been just really lovely. Like, all the actors have
been answering questions, and sharing behind-the-scenes
footage on TikTok, or, you know, sharing fan art on Twitter. There's a lot of direct communication that you don't see for a show this
popular in a lot of cases, and I think that can be
explained by a fan statement shared by Taika on his
Instagram that said, "All around me I see people
that are used to being ignored. This isn't only a love
story between characters, this is a love story about all people. This is a love letter for
those who are often forgotten." One critic described the show as "written as a love letter to minorities, by minorities, and it shows." The fans basically just can't
believe how good the show is. The writers and actors can't believe how popular the show is. And everyone is just, like, screaming at each other on Twitter, and in the best way possible. I guess if I'm going to leave
you with any conclusion here, it's that the show is very good. There are no bad episodes. And while this video is
chock-full of spoilers, if, for some reason, you watched this without
having seen the show itself, go and watch the show anyway! Like, I've rewatched it a
few times now, and honestly, a large portion of the
people who watched the show watched it after they'd already seen the kiss scene spoiler anyway. Even if you know exactly
what happens in each episode, you're still gonna enjoy, like,
the jokes, and performances, and all of these like,
brilliant, little details that I didn't have time
to include in this script. So, go watch or rewatch
"Our Flag Means Death". Let these gay pirates destroy your life. You, I promise, will not regret it. Thanks so much for watching. I would love to hear in the comments your thoughts about the show. And thanks, once again, to Raycon and my wonderful
patrons over on Patreon. Links to both will obviously
be in the description. And, until I see you next time, bye! Also, like, I had to like, push
my sofa forward to do this, and I'm wearing a whole outfit, and I'm kinda sad that you
can't see the whole thing. But the, like, the framing
wouldn't have worked, so, I'm gonna try and get
on my sofa and show you. Okay, here we go! So, frilly shirt, cute belt. This is a whole skirt. I've got this cute, little pistol that my friend Thomas gave me. The hat that was from a
D&D livestream that I did. A charity livestream for mermaids. I'll leave a link the description if you wanna see me be a pirate in that. I wanna go to a... If anyone knows of any
pirate LARPs or RenFaires or whatever coming up
that I might be able to get to in the U.K... Don't
know why there would be, but I just really... I feel like I can't just wear this outfit. Maybe I wear this in my daily life. Is that too much? Am I too into this show?
