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oh-mother-of-darkness · 4 years

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hello this isnt abt batfam or batman but i saw your age and was wondering how do i survive till 23? i am 18 now and 5 more years is very hard to survive please help

Interesting question. I turn 24 in ten days, and sometimes even I’m not sure. I guess I’ll talk about how I personally stayed alive this long before I try to give advice.

The very first thing I would say is that I am religious, and that worldview makes a difference. I don’t mean that in a “everything happens for a reason” kind of way, and as a matter of fact, I very much dislike that line of thinking. It does a lot of damage, and I’m aware that it rightly puts a lot of people off from religion in general.

I hold two beliefs that I think are helpful in terms of survival. First, I believe that humans are by nature bad. Counterintuitive in this conversation? Stick with me. Every day, but especially at my lowest moments, I hate the things that I am. In a metaphorical sense, my mind whispers to me that I am selfish, that I am cowardly, that I think bad things and I am capable of worse. I’m hateful, I’m terrifying, and I am absolutely broken. At my core, there is something fundamentally wrong, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t fix it.

I am disgusting. I’m several thousand evil things in a trench-coat pretending to be anything but myself, and I’m not fooling anyone.

Well, yeah. Yeah, I’m all those things and more: manipulative, lying, self-obsessed, angry, unforgiving, and judgmental. I could, of course, go on.

Here’s the thing-- everybody is. I am no better and no worse than any other person in the universe, and though I am ever abhorrent thing, I am. I have the same dignity, the same worth, and the same life as any human anywhere. The dark things are part and parcel of my humanity, but although I am not good, I do good.

I will never be perfect because that just isn’t possible, but I can be kind. I can be loving, I can be strong, and I can be wise.

Shit, doesn’t that set me free?

There’s a lot more to this conversation, and the rest goes, in brief, like this: at the bottom of the darkness that is every soul, we have one great fear-- if I am truly evil, no one will ever love me. Good news on that front, there is a God who does. If that’s something you want to talk about, hey hit me up. I’ll evangelize on my own time.

Back to it. My second belief is a kind of understanding about the passage of time, and it’s sort of hard to boil down into a few sentences, but I’ll try my best. I believe in a grand struggle between good and evil. I know the beginning of that struggle. I know the end of that struggle: that good will win. I am a part of the middle.

I see my role in the universe as extraordinary small but absolutely necessary. I have a two-fold purpose-- love God, love humans. I interpret both as a call to help others in any way I can, and I think in the way my life has worked out so far, that’s really the most important thing keeping me alive.

I see all of this through the frame of my religion, but I would argue that everything I’ve said so far is applicable outside of that frame, because a lot of folks get to the same place from a fully secular point of view. I cannot be perfect. I should care about and fight for other people. That’s really all we’re working from here.

A few years back, when people asked me this question-- how do you stay alive?-- I used to answer “spite,” and that’s not untrue. I am a very angry person, and the grand majority of that anger is directed at what I perceive as unjust acts. I have a deep-seated hatred of establishments (including the established church), and you’d be shocked at how much of a motivator that can be.

I grew up in an environment that was very intentional in teaching me to identify injustice. Though I have radically departed from many of the teachings of my childhood, the part about fighting for others was something I learned at day one, and that bit has stuck around. For the most part, I grew up in an environment where everyone was on the same page about it.

And theeeeeeen I went to undergrad. Hello, Texas A&M. I hit campus as an 18 year old fully incapacitated by anxiety. I was the kind of person who didn’t-- in fact couldn’t-- speak in front of others. I had always lived my life in a way that minimized myself, because if I never spoke, if I never disagreed, if I never drew attention, I would never make anyone angry. I knew from experience that angry people hurt me, and I was afraid of pain.

Then I experienced the absolute shenaniganry of conservative Texans. The culture shock sent me to space and back, and on the return trip I decided that I couldn’t be quiet anymore.

I learned to speak my freshman year so that I could scream FUCK YOU. It was incredibly painful, and I can’t tell you exactly how I managed it other than I was angry, and I didn’t want to lose.

I fought a similar battle on my homefront against parents that didn’t know how to deal with a daughter that disagreed, or even worse, a daughter that wasn’t okay. I wasn’t a perfect child anymore. I knew I had anxiety, I knew I was depressed, and we all knew who I blamed for that. They hadn’t been the perfect parents they thought they were.

I found myself growing, little by little, into a person that could write and argue and hold her ground. That’s personal growth for sure, but it didn’t necessarily help my mental health. As a matter of fact, my health declined all through undergrad, and in my third and final year, I cracked.

I was desperate. I was isolated. I was flooded by fear and despair, and I was falling apart. I don’t remember huge chunks of undergrad because I was so depressed that the memories didn’t stick, but I do remember my tipping point.

It was something small. The ceiling fan in my bedroom was broken. The lighting chain worked fine, but if anyone pulled the fan chain, the whole thing would stop working. I mixed up which chain was which, pulled the wrong cord, and broke it for the fourth time.

For some reason, that was it. I lay down on my floor and cried for an hour, and while I did, my mind went to, as the kids say, a dark place. Finally, I called my mom and begged for psychiatric medication, something I had always been afraid to ask for. At the time, my parents believed that antidepressants were overprescribed, and they mocked parents that let their children take them.

At around the same time, I was deciding what to do with my life. I was about to graduate, and I had always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Instead, everyone in my life pushed me towards law school. I didn’t know what to do, but I began fantasizing, not about going to law school exactly, but about being the kind of person that could go to law school.

I knew that law school would be entail public speaking and constant conflict and the kind of work that would be hard for a person who sometimes couldn’t leave her bed. I wanted to be someone who could do all of that, but I didn’t believe I was.

Enter Donald Trump. Post-November 2016, I struggled to understand how something like that could happen, and I watched everyone else deal with it too. I began confused, moved to distraught, then returned to what I always am: angry.

January 2017 was the inauguration and shortly afterwards, the “Muslim ban.” I read the news on my bedroom floor, and there was one specific part that stuck out to me. There were pictures of lawyers flooding the airports. There was a court case headed for SCOTUS.

I suddenly realized that one group-- one very select group-- was doing what I was powerless to accomplish. I hated establishments, and there was one group that could challenge and change them. Some people could fight in the way I wanted to, and those people were lawyers.

I have a very distinct memory of looking into the bathroom mirror of my third-year apartment and thinking, “I will be miserable for the rest of my life, no matter what I do or what career I pick. I might as well be a miserable lawyer.”

So I took my antidepressants and I went to law school. I’m not going to rehash everything that happened there in this particular post, because in this topic, I don’t think it matters. The relevant part is that I went, and I had my reason why.

Sure as hell can tell you that law school wasn’t good for my health. The last three years have been, in terms of sheer stress and despair, the worst of my life. I picked up a self-harm habit, endured consistent humiliation, cycled through six different antidepressants, had horrible relationships, and developed a psychotic disorder. Don’t get me wrong, there were good things too. I met people that are important me, and beyond that, I grew.

I know that 18 year old me would be absolutely flabbergasted by the woman I am now, cracks and flaws included. I wouldn’t say I’m healthy or okay, but I am more healthy and more okay. I’m coming out of this mess with the institutional power I wanted, and now I get to decide what to do with it.

I was wrong three years ago when I looked in that bathroom mirror. I know now that I won’t be miserable for the rest of my life. I’m going to be happy someday, and to the parts of me that say otherwise: fuck you. I’ve learned to say it now.

I graduated law school this week, and this month, I’ve felt better than I ever have before. I’m singing again, I dropped two medications, and suddenly, everything is so, so funny. I’ve been laughing so hard my face hurts the day after.

This is a huge turning point in my life, so I’ve been meditating on my past. I’ve come to the conclusion that in most of the ways that matter, I won. My family has been forced to accept what I am. I became the person I wanted to be, even though I thought I wasn’t capable of that.

I know for sure that there will be times in my life where I hit rock bottom again, and that’s not gonna be fun. It’s likely that with my mental health issues, I will always have to work harder than my peers to get the same results. That’s unfair.

I also know that high points exist, and I will have them. I am having them, and I will again.

I guess in recap, I know that I have deep flaws and ugly parts, but I am at peace with that. I know that I must help others, and in pursuit of that goal, I became a person I like more than the girl I used to be.

You have exactly the same potential. I want you to know that whatever you are now, that’s not your forever. Circumstances change, and you will change too. We’re human, you and I, and that’s an exciting thing to be.

Your worth comes from your humanity itself, both evil and good, not the things you do or the fights you win. You never have to compare yourself to others because you are exactly the same as everybody else-- no better, but certainly no worse. You’re a person. That’s enough.

I’m telling you all those things, and as advice, I’ll say this: get angry and fight. Fight for others. You can help them, and you should. Fight for yourself. You are worthy of respect, and everyone else should give it to you. Fight yourself. Any part of you that preaches despair is wrong.

Find the thing that makes you angry and use it. Things are fucked up! There’s a lot to be angry about. I put it this way to my classmates, now my attorney peers: you get one hill to die on. What’s your hill? Go and defend it.

Here’s an interesting thing, anon. Your hill can be yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re right. Five years is a lot, and all the years beyond that are more. Take your antidepressants and go.

#anyway here's a fucking autobiography I guess #let's see what to tag what to tag #religion #christianity #suicide #suicidal thoughts #suicidal ideation #asks #personal i guess #wait I thought of more #self harm #american politics #if the read more on this post doesn't work again I'm rioting #been having that glitch lately

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vashak · 4 years

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The Catcher In The Rye

“Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody’s around—nobody big, I mean—except me. And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff—I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it’s crazy, but that’s the only thing I’d really like to be.”

This is the famous passage from The Catcher In The Rye that gives the book its title. Here, the rye field is most commonly interpreted as the innocence of childhood, with the catcher in the rye being responsible for preventing the children from being tainted by the corrupt and superficial world of adults and losing their innocence.

When I read The Catcher In The Rye for the first time back in September, my first thought was “Oh my god… The catcher in the rye in Banana Fish is Eiji!” As the fandom often discussed at length, Eiji’s quiet presence helped Ash get in touch with his humanity after all that he’s been through. His unshakable faith in Ash and his heartfelt tenderness (as emphasized in the preface of New York Sense) helped preserve Ash’s innocence and prevented him from becoming the monster he thought he had become.

Besides the desire to maintain one’s innocence, one other parallel theme between Banana Fish and The Catcher in the Rye is distinguishing what is genuine and fake in life. It so happens that “phony” is one of the most often used words in The Catcher In The Rye. Throughout the story the protagonist complains about the people around him (mostly adults) of being fake.

“One of the biggest reasons I left Elkton Hills was because I was surrounded by phonies. That's all. They were coming in the goddam window. For instance, they had this headmaster, Mr. Haas, that was the phoniest bastard I ever met in my life. Ten times worse than old Thurmer. On Sundays, for instance, old Haas went around shaking hands with everybody's parents when they drove up to school. He'd be charming as hell and all. Except if some boy had little old funny-looking parents. You should've seen the way he did with my roommate's parents. I mean if a boy's mother was sort of fat or corny-looking or something, and if somebody's father was one of those guys that wear those suits with very big shoulders and corny black-and-white shoes, then old Haas would just shake hands with them and give them a phony smile and then he'd go talk, for maybe a half an hour, with somebody else's parents. I can't stand that stuff. It drives me crazy. It makes me so depressed I go crazy. I hated that goddam Elkton Hills.”

This quote from the beginning of the book reminded me of this exchange between Ash and Blanca.

Ash found something genuine in Eiji for the first time because Eiji saw Ash to be no different than himself. In his eyes, he was just a teenager. And Ash is just that: a teenager. He feels like one but is not allowed to be one nor matter how much he craves it. Except when he’s around Eiji. Then he can relax and let his guard down.

Blanca (thinking): “He” was like a lion’s child… Hiding behind an armour of a beautiful but blank expression, he hardly ever laughed.

But this young, lively American boy before my eyes was utterly defenceless, laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that it was really “him.” But then…

All of a sudden…

He took notice of my presence.

And his demeanour changed completely.

This is the face Ash shows to the world out of necessity. And it scares everyone off, except for Eiji because he could see through his façade.

In the last episode of the anime, Eiji’s letter and the promise he makes (“My soul is always with you”) comforts Ash in his final moments. The last scene in the episode where Ash dies with a smile on his face (whether he chose to die or succumbed to his wounds) tells us that he was happy and at peace because he had someone who genuinely cared for him, who caught him at the edge of the rye field. That’s why the last episode was entitled The Catcher In The Rye.

Now the first episode of the anime is named after another literary piece by J.D. Salinger: A Perfect Day for Bananafish. As this person predicts very early on in the series, if we are to draw parallels between this short story and Banana Fish, we reach a very morbid conclusion: Just like how the war veteran Seymour couldn’t adapt to living in peaceful times and shot himself in the head, Ash won’t be able to escape from his demons after all and end his own life. But the last episode being named “The Catcher In The Rye” offers a much lighter perspective. If we interpret the events of the last episode with what “catcher in the rye” means in the context of its namesake novel in mind, then Ash did escape his demons. Ash’s soul was saved thanks to Eiji and instead of falling off that cliff, he could fly, he was relieved. Eiji was Ash’s catcher in the rye.

Then I did some reading and saw that other fans reversed these roles and thought of Ash as Eiji’s catcher in the rye (x & x), which works just as well. About that, let me quote something I wrote earlier to answer an ask.

“But throughout the series, Ash doesn’t only protect Eiji against danger [that threatens his physical wellbeing]. He also tries very hard to preserve his innocence. Notice how he doesn’t give Eiji a gun when they’re escaping from Golzine’s mansion because “one killer between the two of them is plenty.” And when they’re running away from Golzine’s men underground, he only reluctantly hands Eiji a gun because he himself is very weak physically. Come to think of it, Eiji never kills anyone in the series.”

Or perhaps, Eiji and Ash were respectively each other’s catcher in the rye. In a way, they saved each other. Eiji was feeling suffocated by his personal failures and found a new purpose in life when he met Ash. And Ash discovered that he was worthy of love without having to give anything back. Ash and Eiji brought out the best in each other and became each other’s strength. They protected one another body and soul. And they could be their true selves when they were together, just two boys playing in the rye.

The anime goes all out with the “catcher in the rye” symbolism in the second ending sequence, but the manga doesn’t make any references to the novel except for the artwork at the top of the post. However, the “That Summer” chapter (?) included in the ANGEL EYES artbook kind of gives me the same vibe.

#banana fish #the catcher in the rye #meta #analiz #yorum #banana fish manga #banana fish türkçe #english #şekerli

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seyaryminamoto · 4 years

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In your opinion, what do you think is the predominant love language of Sokka and Azula? And how would they express it to each other? :)

I really don’t know much about this whole classification of love languages, if you want me to be honest xD a quick wikipedia search says it’s basically a way to break down and categorize different displays of love? And there’s five of them, apparently? I have to say frankly that, as I write them, Sokka and Azula basically do everything in that list of five languages:

Words of affirmation: one of my main must-haves in virtually any Sokkla setting, where Azula is either not redeemed or halfway there, is Sokka telling Azula she’s not a monster. As you may have noticed, that particular thing bugs Azula fans a lot, and we really wish someone would tell her she isn’t one :’D thus, one of Gladiator’s most emotional scenes in Part 1 is Azula’s mild breakdown in Ember Island where Sokka reasons with Azula’s belief of being a monster and tells her that she’s about as human as can be, and the darkness inside her isn’t anything that makes her fundamentally worse than anyone else. There’s so many scenes I could point to that feature words of affirmation they say to each other, or that they say to other people about each other *cough* look forward to chapter 187 *cough*, some of my favorites from Azula to Sokka was her reasoning for wanting to celebrate his birthday (” I've wanted to celebrate your birthday because I'm quite grateful that you were born”), as well as her later affirmation that she loves him for who he is: (”I can say, truthfully… that I love that you're a non-bender. I know it might seem strange, but… I wouldn't change anything about you"). This is without going into the ten thousand times they’ve said they love each other :’D virtually all their conversations in Part 2 end up featuring words of affirmation of one sort or another, from either of them, no matter how often they may tease each other. So... this one is pretty predominant, I suppose?

Quality time: and see, this one happens to be Gladiator Part 2 in a nutshell. Whenever they have any time to spare (well, when Azula does, in particular), their immediate idea is to spend that free time together, in whatever capacity is possible. Outside of free time, they also work together as sponsor and gladiator, so they have their training sessions, Sokka’s fights, the events in the League... Sokka also helps her out with anything she may need (for instance, he took up a job as swordmanship teacher for the Enforcers to give Azula a hand, which still means they get to spend a bit of time together, even if she’s really busy with her new undertakings), so in the end, they spend most their time together, and they’d spend even more of it if they could. They only separate whenever they have no official justification for spending time together, such as when Sokka was still recovering from the Jeong Jeong incident, and even then they were desperate to return to each other ASAP. So... yeah, I think it’s safe to say, Gladiator-wise, they dedicate all the time they can to each other. And, as far as I’m concerned, other stories and settings could even have them spending more time together than they do in Gladiator, since there’s no Ozai breathing down their necks and threatening to kill Sokka if he finds out he’s his daughter’s secret lover. Therefore... quality time is also guaranteed.

Giving gifts: This one might be the less obvious one with Sokka and Azula, because Azula’s initial generosity (in Gladiator) answered some very specific needs: she ensured he was well fed, clothed, trained, bought him a house, found a maid for him... basically, she gave him a thousand things, but it wasn’t because she was showing she loves him, it was because she knew such things would be necessary for Sokka to offer a decent performance as a gladiator. Now then, after their initial hurdles are out of the way and their relationship has progressed, Sokka gives Azula occasional gifts but constantly struggles to come up with something she’ll genuinely cherish. He made Xin Long’s armor, he brought her flowers, he tried to cook for her, he gave her a tiny hot-air balloon, and crafted a betrothal necklace for her... he also wrote poetry, and he’ll try his hand at another artistic venture with Azula very soon. But this stuff is pretty sparse, even if Azula appreciates it a lot whenever it happens. As for Azula, she will give Sokka some pretty nice gifts very soon, just as she continues to provide for all his needs. In recent times, the gifts she’s been willing to give Sokka have been mostly non-physical ones, such as the thumbs-up she gives his crowd in his stead, once they’re leaving the Royal Dome on the day he wins against the Mad Alchemist, or ordering her Barge back into Whaletail Island’s port so Sokka could meet Katara... it’s stuff that means a lot to him, more than any physical gifts might (this, paired with the fact that Azula had offered to bring him home whenever he wished to go, without forcing him to stick to their original deal). So, maybe the gift-giving isn’t quite the classic sense of it, but it still happens in its own way. In general, I think it’s difficult for Sokka to give gifts to a Princess who basically can have it all... so that’s why he generally tries the DIY route with gifts, and so far it has paid off wonderfully because she genuinely loves everything he crafts for her. I think in most settings it’d have to be this way, and depending on Azula’s situation, she can either give him anything he wishes for or maybe resort to small but heartfelt gifts and gestures that mean a lot to the two of them.

Acts of service: this one may even tie slightly with the previous one, but frankly, as far as acts of service are concerned, these two take it the extra mile. Sokka didn’t always fight as her gladiator out of his own convictions, he started off doing it because of their deal... but as time goes by, he genuinely cherishes his role in her life and he would fight anyone for Azula’s sake, if need be. It’s, of course, a mutual thing because Azula will protect Sokka against anything, even her own father, no matter the cost. Hence, their relationship dynamics and battle couple behavior can be interpreted as acts of service for each other. Sokka, like I said before, has tried to cook for Azula too, which is a more classic act of service, as far as I can tell, and she appreciates his efforts even if not his results just yet xD in future chapters Sokka goes out of his way (in two different instances) to get lychee wine for Azula because he knows that’s the only licquor she likes, and every time he does that her heart grows twenty sizes. He also cared for her while she was sick, and she often does the same when he’s wounded, such as how she cared for him in Jeong Jeong’s arc. Sokka also tries to help her have good relations with people such as Captain Zhen, by agreeing to teach swordsmanship to his son because he hoped that would help Azula. Everything Azula did in the current Whaletail Island arc counts as well as an act of service: she’s privileging Sokka’s needs and his bond with his family well above her own needs, to the point of preparing herself to face that he might choose to stay with Katara - and she’s determined to respect his decision, if he were to make it. So, I’d say this one ranks really high, perhaps more than everything else?

Physical touch: ... but this one’s obviously a big deal too considering how damn difficult it is for them to keep their hands off each other at any given moment xD from something as innocent as walking through the Capital’s tunnels holding hands, hence, fulfilling Sokka’s wish for them to “walk through the city while holding hands”, to their very frequent intimate encounters, once these two are together they’re as good as magnets, constantly seeking contact with each other. Sokka has always struck me as a highly affectionate person once he’s with someone he genuinely loves, and so he pours that affection on Azula constantly, to the point where, in the early days of their relationship, she could barely keep up with it all. Physical touch doesn’t come quite as easily to Azula as it does to him, as she has never been someone who receives a lot of physical affection, but her attraction to Sokka has made it so she craves for him physically and on every possible level she can... therefore, despite she’s been awkward when other people show her any physical affection (often pushes Ty Lee off when Ty Lee hugs her, or remains unresponsive, barely responds to Toph’s hugs and stood limp and awkwardly the first time she did it, nearly flipped out when Ozai reached for her hand in the temple that one time, and most recently was left drawing blanks when Zuko hugged her....), she’s at ease when it’s with Sokka, so much that she welcomes his touch and everything about physical contact with him, altogether.

In short... I seriously think they do it all? You could, perhaps, rank the languages depending on which one is more predominant, to a fault xD but there’s genuinely no love language they outright don’t do, at least in Gladiator (and honestly, I doubt they don’t use all love languages in my other stories). But I guess, if you really want me to rank them...

Acts of service

Physical touch - Words of affirmation

Quality time

Gift-giving

Sorry, I really think Physical touch and Words of affirmation are virtually tied together in the story, both things tend to happen at the same time, and I really can’t bring myself to rank either thing higher, so it’s a draw. Quality time falls to #3 because they can sacrifice being together sometimes, as much as they hate doing it, but they can survive while being apart (despite Sokka would likely argue with me and say he absolutely can’t, but you know, ignore him (?)). Gift-giving, while very heartfelt and cute when it happens, is sparse, like I said... so it can stay in the last place, despite it’s still part of what they do for each other.

Is this comprehensive enough? :’D I sure hope so...

(if anyone needs me to hide this under a read more, let me know... got longer than I thought it would, woops)

#anon #... ended up being a very gladiator-oriented answer so #gladiator #sokkla #love languages is such a strange new concept to me #it's not the first time I hear it #but frankly Sokkla do it all #if that's not how it's supposed to work well #I'm sorry the love between my OTP is as OP as it is (?)#but that's how it works (?)

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sawdustandgin · 3 years

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A Year of Happiness, Joy and Sarcasm: My 2020 in Review

Absolutely nothing needs to be said about the year of our lord 2020 that hasn’t already been shouted from every social media platform like a shrieking alarm alerting us that the ship is sinking. We know. We’re all wet.

I will not remember 2020 as mask-clad because I didn’t take any photos while wearing one.

Every December, I reflect on the year through a short essay, allowing myself many opportunities to gush about the music that I didn’t include on my best-of lists but that I still loved dearly. (Though I guess I skipped last year. I found an abandoned draft the other day…) And consistently, I have regarded each year as one of transition.

I don’t have clear career aspirations outside of wanting to engage with music as deeply and personally as I can; my only concrete life plan is to profile small towns across the country through the lens of its local music scene. So, with this nebulous image of a future endeavor, I have had a tumultuous time with money since losing my job two years ago. I realized fairly quickly, after only a few months of foundering at it, that I was unable to freelance my way to a liveable income. And in all honesty, this was for the best—nothing hurts worse than realizing the activity you are most passionate about has become a chore. I stopped worrying about pitching editors and trying to rub elbows, and I got to work applying for jobs. I, incredibly luckily, secured one after a few more months. The adjustment to being unemployed was a leap for me and my deep desire for a routine, but the adjustment to being employed and trying to maintain a balance between day job and side gig was even harder.

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Then I loosened up a bit. Toward the end of last year, I tried to make a vow to be more consistent with the blog, but instead, I prioritized sleep. At the time, I didn’t realize that it was an either/or scenario and probably would have made a greater effort to avoid my television if I had. But ultimately, I had to accept that my relationship with music journalism was on my terms. And regardless of how [in]frequently I ‘discovered’ new artists (for myself), I wasn’t ‘missing out’ on anything.

And let’s be real, I wasn’t overly eager to listen to new stuff starting around April. I put so much energy into not losing myself in quarantine that I tuckered myself out before shit really hit the ceiling. When I began thinking toward my year-end lists in November, I began to worry that this would be my most deflated best-of season in recent memory.

That’s ok, Zoë, no one really cares about top ten lists, I can hear you thinking, colored by a fascination with my determination. But as a double cancer and pisces moon, I like to cling to the art that moves my soul (read: ~nostalgia~). And so I take great joy in spending all of December and most of January repeatedly listening to my favorite music until I conjure a partially arbitrary ranking system and create playlists galore. It really is the best time of the year.

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Of course, there are always a few titles that need no additional spins, whether due to automatic disqualification or simply because I listened so much that I know it intimately. The automatic disqualifications this year were particularly striking.

A few easy omissions were Chromatica, Positions, and Fetch the Bolt Cutters. Lady Gaga delivered her skip-less album around the time when it became clear that the pandemic was not even somewhat close to containment; my roommate and I cooked to Chromatica every night, singing along to every word. With each new record, Ariana Grande becomes a more graceful songwriter, and it also helps that Positions is a plain ol', boot-knockin’ good time. And the raw power Fiona Apple wields in Fetch the Bolt Cutters would be frightening were she not the perfect vessel to deliver it to us.

Then there is the category of albums that simply didn’t need my (albeit dim) spotlight: Set My Heart on Fire Immediately, græ, and KicK i are each masterpieces in their own right. They each move purposefully through diverse landscapes, each song a new adventure not bound by genre or expectation. Interestingly, Perfume Genius and Moses Sumney were never mainstays in my music rotation, while my love for Arca is unquestioned.

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That leads us to Re-Animator, I’m Your Empress Of and The Mosaic of Transformation, all of which I actively feel bad for disqualifying. I’m too much of a fan of Everything Everything to impartially write about their new album, though it was one of my most frequently played. I have been writing best-of lists for six years now and I would prefer to write about a constantly expanding, diverse group of artists. That means I can’t keep doting on Empress Of, despite her status as one of our best contemporary artists. Me and Us were truly just prelude to her 2020 record, whose title is a formal introduction. Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith is also the most talented analog synth musician that I personally have ever engaged with, and her latest album is everything I could have wanted.

It took some self-control (aka strict time management) to not write a few thousand words about The Ascension. Let’s recall my massive thesis on Carrie & Lowell… Yes, I am a former Catholic who thrives in the ambiguous invocation of Scripture, especially from a songwriter who quite literally shaped my taste in music. Luckily, I’m not nearly as pent up with anger and existential dread as in 2015 when I was, for the first time, processing the physical and emotional distance from my family. This elongated emotional breakdown was spurred by drama between my parents, but was also due to an irrational fear I held about my own mother’s death. Listening to Sufjan Stevens forgive his mother on her figurative deathbed has stayed with me.

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The anxiety I felt about 2020 was almost entirely external, so the gorge formed from the current of The Ascension was not nearly as deep a canyon in my heart as C&L, though it is still an affecting 80-minute journey. Stevens’ production, when coupled with his lyricism, is a breakthrough, though I do hear murmurs of folktronica from earlier in the decade. (I’m begging everyone to listen to Under Our Beds by Consilience.) And for perhaps the first time, there were songs that I occasionally skip. If I still had to commute to work, I bet they would have grown on me. In fact, this would have been a perfect driving album—one that wouldn’t cause me to weep while on the interstate. (oh Carrie. oh Lowell.)

Then there was VOL.II by my dear friend Lauren Ruth Ward. She gave me an opportunity to write a unique interview with her about the record to be printed on the inside of the gatefold, making it a permanent fixture on this most exciting of sophomore albums. I could not justify writing anything more about it, if only to preserve the sanctity of that interview, which I gave more effort and attention than any other piece of writing I had done. It was a wonderful and inspiring experience that I hope to replicate. The most heartbreaking part of the pandemic’s onset, from a social perspective, was not being able to visit Lauren after the record was released.

With all that said, 2020 was about so much more than the music I listened to. All the digital replacements for physical intimacy during lockdown made me realize that my legacy (aka all my music writing) is fragile, locked into the impermanence of the internet. So I took it upon myself to build a physical archive; in the fall, I finalized a zine template, and the first eight issues are in the can. (So far, I have 19 zines planned. Email me if you are interested in having one!)

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I’ve also been living without a front tooth since mid-March. On one hand, it’s been convenient to wear a mask to hide the hole in my mouth, but on the other hand, all I want to do is bite into an apple. (For almost two years before I even knew I had to have my tooth removed, I had been forced to slice apples before being able to eat them. The abject humiliation.) The journey with my dentists and oral surgeon has been excruciating, to say the least. Who knew three people in the same medical practice could have such mightily different styles of care? [Author’s note: I got my crown after writing this essay! :grinning-emoji:]

In sum, it was my image of myself that I was able to see a bit clearer this year. Each year I think that I’ve figured something else out about myself, which had always led me to believe that I am a most-complex, divine being. But I think a more accurate interpretation is that, put simply, I am not static. My thoughts and emotions adapt to life and life doesn’t seem to stop throwing me around like sneakers in a tumbling dryer. My pronouns are now they/them and while I don’t have many specifics as to why, I just know that this feels right.

I hope your year was at least acceptable; 2021 promises a host of new challenges, but I think we can take ‘em.

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#year in review #best of #best of 2020 #music blog #music review #Lady Gaga #Ariana Grande #Fiona Apple #Perfume Genius #Moses Sumney #Arca #Everything Everything #Empress Of #Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith #Sufjan Stevens #Consilience #Lauren Ruth Ward #2020 #year in review 2020

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agentofship · 4 years

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One last game of Tag? Agents of Shield #PartingShot

With this tag game, I want to know the answers to these five (5) questions and then tag 5 or more mutuals. Wasn’t tagged but want to join? Join in ! Everyone is an essential part of this fandom! Name from @ agent.of.shield_ on Instagram ( @agents-of-fangirling ) who had a great idea to post a picture of yourself with a drink (or just a drink) and tag it #partingshot as a finale goodbye to the show (which I also am going to post tomorrow on IG).

I was tagged by the wonderful @ofitzsimmons and @2minutes2midnight <3 Thank you for thinking of :) And of course I’ve waited for the last minute to do it! :D

Where were you in life when you first started to watching AoS?

My life wasn’t that much different from what it is now but it’s still nice to think that I’m still in a slightly better place now. I started almost from the beginning. My friend who’s a big Marvel movies fan started watching from the beginning and pestered me for months, knowing I love the movies too. So I think I started around the mid-season break of season and quickly caught up. I came for Coulson and Ming-Na that I knew from other shows and I really liked the show from episode one but it’s FZZT who stole my heart and made me go “Oh, so this is going to be my new obsession, isn’t it?” I’ve always been a fangirl but I hadn’t been this in love with the show since X-Files from 14 to my early twenties. Back then, I was struggling a bit to make a living out of being a freelance graphic designer and illustrator and living in a tiny apartment I still have nightmares where I have to go live there again! So it was nice to dive into AoS and have a little escape from reality. To the point where it made me want to write my first fanfic ever, back around the end of season three, which was also my first step into the fandom. I really started interacting with fandom after the end of season five thanks to the wonderful @libbyweasley who was the first person who came to talk to me because I was way too shy to go and talk to people myself <3 And I couldn’t thank her enough for it.

Where are you now?

For a few years now, I’m finally able to make enough money as a graphic designer/illustrator and I even make a tiny bit of it thanks to my writing. And I think part of what has encouraged me to write more of my children’s book stories (in French) and send them to publishers is the fantastic reactions I’ve been getting for my fanfics :) I’ve also moved from my tiny apartment to a much nicer one about a year and a half ago and that has made a big difference in my life. I’ve also been able to travel a lot more and finally see the Northern Lights which has been one of the most magical experiences of my entire life. Now, traveling is what I miss the most even though I’ve been lucky to go Norway in January before this whole mess that is 2020 happened. But once again, AoS got me through the worse of lockdown and my anxiety issues. Writing and reading fanfics all with the promise that at least, we’d have new episodes in May, made things a little better. And chatting with my fandom friends on a daily basis had been a real breath of fresh air when I was locked at home for two months with only my boyfriend :D And now here I am, totally unable to focus on anything not AoS and having knots in stomach about the finale :D The last time I was this stressed out was for the season five finale. Now I have no doubt I’ll be crying my eyes out just as much but let’s hope it’s not for the same reasons :D

What character development arc (or storyline in general) did you love the most?

It’s too hard to choose so I won’t :D Fitz and Simmons. Because their storyline is so often entwined but not only. They’re typically the kind of characters I get attached to, awkward tiny geniuses who are too adorable for words and both their stories have been incredible. And I was attached from the beginning but boy, if I had any idea how they would evolve during the show. Jemma was this sweet, incredibly smart and awkward SHIELD Hermione who was always confident despite an hilarious incapability to lie or flirt. And we saw her go undercover, survive on an alien planet and become this badass boss lady and field agent. But I also loved how she went from being scared of her feelings and wanting things to be neat and compartmentalized to embracing it all. I loved seeing her ruthless in her search for Fitz because she so often pushed her feelings and needs to the side and for once, she decided to go after what she wanted and refused to be told otherwise. Fitz was the cute, comic relief of season one and ended up being probably the most dramatic character on the show. From his brain trauma to becoming a badass man on a mission to find Simmons. And then adding more layers to the character as we finally learned his backstory and got to discover the dark side of him. Of course, the writing for this character is fantastic but it wouldn’t be the same without Iain and his beautiful, subtle and always incredibly consistent way of interpreting him. I am very attached to both these characters and I’ve been wanting to give them a hug since the end of season one. Hopefully, they end up in a place where they get to enjoy each other’s hugs all the time but just because they can, not because they need it.

What will you miss the most?

Everything! Looking forward to new episodes, watching new episodes and being too excited too sleep on the night before a new one. Crying my eyes out over a very emotional scene. And also all the fandom stuff like going crazy about a tiny bit on a blurry picture and overanalyzing every interview. Coming up with ridiculous theories just for the fun of it (Hello evil LMD Jemma :D) or more realistic theories and seeing them being true. And in general, I regret not joining the fandom sooner cause it has been so much fun these past few years <3 But I know the fandom won’t die and I also look forward to many more years of fanfics and fanart and I’m looking forward to meeting some of you next year <3

Favourite quote?

I will have to go with Jemma’s quote about the first law of thermodynamics in the pod scene in 1x22. It’s a beautiful scene in a beautiful setting and the way Jemma says it in such a soft, almost peaceful voice is as heartbreaking as it is heartwarming. And it’s also very representative of my personal views on life and death and it’s really kind of reassuring. I like to think about the first law of thermodynamics, that no energy in the universe is created and... none is destroyed. That means that every bit of energy inside us, every particle will go on to be a part of something else. Maybe live as a dragonfish, a microbe, maybe burn in a supernova ten billion years from now. And every part of us now was once a part of some other thing - a moon, a storm cloud, a mammoth. A monkey. Thousands and thousands of other beautiful things that were just as terrified to die as we are. We gave them new life. Good one, I hope.

Lots of people have been tagged already but I’m gonna tag: @libbyweasley @sunalsolove @blancasplayground @accio-the-force @valentinaonthemoon @clementinewhy @springmagpies and all my mutuals who want to do it and haven’t been tagged yet, I’d love to read it :)

#partingshot #aos #aos finale #goodbye aos #i'm emotional now

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fyexo · 5 years

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191115 Meet SuperM, the Team of K-Pop Superstars That Became One Big Family

SuperM has arrived. It’s late afternoon in Los Angeles, and voices can be heard floating through the halls of Capitol Records in L.A., muffled and low. They’re just out of sight, but if the video teasers for the K-pop supergroup’s debut are to be believed, the seven members will turn the corner burning with a smoldering intensity, walking with the confidence of an elite squad of K-pop assassins trained to vaporize the competition with a single look. All have been hand-picked for this mission from some of K-pop’s most successful groups: Taemin from the legendary SHINee, Kai and Baekhyun from the record-breaking EXO, Mark and Taeyong from the massive 21-member group NCT, and Ten and Lucas from NCT’s Chinese subunit WayV. Together, they are an industry team of aces, pairing powerful performance with immense individual skill in dancing, singing, and rapping.

But as they find their seats around a massive marble conference table, they’re more like a bunch of brothers at summer camp. Kai, an often blush-inducing dancer, has pulled the arms of his sweater over his hands to create soft paws and is hiding behind them as he whispers to giggling rapper Lucas. Baekhyun, the group’s leader and stunning vocalist, scrunches his nose in frustration as he struggles to open a water bottle. One by one, each member relaxes into their chairs and widens the gap between their slick onstage personas and their sweeter offstage selves.

Taeyong looks softer than his icy rapper persona as he yawns and stretches, the blinding silver highlight on his cheeks catching the sun as he adjusts the waves of his purple hair. Ten, usually a brooding dancer, is disarmingly friendly. When a part of the conversation strikes him as funny, he looks around the room to find someone else who is laughing and wrinkles his nose at them as if to say, “Isn’t this all so silly?” Mark, the youngest, is usually the excitable little brother of NCT. But as SuperM’s strongest English speaker (he’s actually from Toronto, Canada, originally), he matures into a calm and collected translator and only ages down again when caught in a fit of laughter.

The member with the biggest gap between onstage and off is Taemin, the group’s most senior member in terms of experience, who was selected from one of K-pop’s foundational groups, SHINee, and boasts one of the most successful solo careers in the history of the industry. When performing, Taemin is wickedly villainous, sensual, and sophisticated. In a recent interview, Taeyong went so far as to describe Taemin’s stage presence as “a bit immoral.” But offstage, in this conference room, Taemin’s small frame is almost swallowed up by his chair. He likes to hold water in his cheeks so that they puff out like a fish, and his big, round eyes, which are usually narrowed for effect when he performs, stare blankly from beneath his shiny blonde bob. He is so quiet that he sometimes appears to not be paying attention at all, but then one of the other guys cracks a joke and his entire face lights up.

The group is in high spirits, coming off of an intense October weekend of stateside promotion that included their first official appearance as SuperM, the debut of the music video for their single, “Jopping,” the release of their eponymous debut mini album, and a performance for thousands outside of Capitol’s iconic headquarters in Hollywood. SuperM carries on the legacy of SM, one of K-pop’s oldest and most-revered entertainment agencies. “If you ask me, I’d say what the world now considers K-Pop began with SM Entertainment,” says Taemin, through an interpreter, as Ten nods in agreement. “SM was the very first company to take musical influences from Western culture and incorporate Korean culture into that by rearranging and writing lyrics with our style.” When Taemin finishes, he turns to Kai in embarrassment and says, “I’m too proud of SM, huh?” But Taemin is right; the company created what is considered to be the first modern K-pop idol group, H.O.T., in 1996, and has been a dominant player in the space ever since.

The guys don’t show it, but they are under an immense amount of pressure. SuperM was conceptualized and produced by the founder of SM, Soo Man Lee, and their staff notes that curiosities are piqued, even within the company itself. “I think people are interested in this new attempt because we are not newbies. Each of us are from groups that are already well-established,” says Baekhyun, the eldest. Kai agrees, “We feel obliged to live up to their expectations.” They don’t know it yet, but in a week they will have the no. 1 album in the United States.

Despite looming expectations, the guys seem more delighted by the new arrangement than worried. “I’ve been in SHINee for 10 years, so starting a new team almost felt like getting a different job,” says Taemin. “I was excited; it felt so fresh, like a new start. To be honest, I thought the project was going to get cancelled when I first heard about it, so SuperM has a special place in my heart.” Baekhyun finishes, “Each of us saw it as an opportunity, a new challenge, and that helped…” Taeyong chimes in, “It united us.” “That’s right,” nods Baekhyun, “Now, we feel like we’re a family.”

That bond was formed quickly, over a handful of summer months in 2019. Though they all trained and worked under SM, most members had only ever seen each other in passing, like students in different grades at a large school. Despite this, the synergy between them is almost telepathic. After Baekhyun fails to break the cap on his water bottle, he silently pushes it towards Taeyong, who opens it for him with a twist of his wrist and without a single word. Members often finish each others’ sentences and exchange knowing looks across the table. Whenever Taemin isn’t sure about the meaning of a word in English, he leans over to consult Ten. At one point, Taeyong looks at Mark with pride and reaches out instinctively to stroke the youngest’s ear. This must be fairly normal, because Mark barely reacts.

When they return to Korea after this trip, each member will rejoin their respective group or solo promotions until they come together again as SuperM in November to tour the U.S. and Canada. Kai discloses that Lucas is already exhibiting separation anxiety. “This morning Lucas said to me, ‘Hyung, I wanna move in with you! Can’t we move in together?’” Kai says, using the Korean word for “big brother.” Lucas lets out a wild, guttural giggle as Kai snitches again, “Even Baekhyun said in the car that he would miss us after we all got back from the States!”

For these short two weeks in Los Angeles, they’re living together and having what sounds like the time of their lives. They’ve all taken roles around the house. Baekhyun is known for recalibrating the group dynamic, cracking jokes to lighten the mood. “I’m the reaction, I react to them,” Taemin says cheerily. “Mark and Ten are English teachers,” says Baekhyun, “Taeyong is the cook and dishwasher…” “and alarm!” chimes Taemin. “Taemin is in charge of dieting,” says Kai. Taeyong points to Baekhyun, “And he disrupts dieting,” he says, as they all crack up, “he’s the Diet Destroyer.” Baekhyun shrugs. “We’re the tall ones,” says Kai, pointing to Lucas and himself. “I’m in charge of getting things that are far away,” says Lucas, with a laugh that is almost musical. “He’s the biggest baby,” says Ten, smiling lovingly from the corner. “There are cups and plates placed high on the cupboard...” says Taemin. “And Lucas takes them out for us,” finishes Taeyong.

Like most families, they watch Netflix together. “We like zombies, especially Kai hyung. He likes The Walking Dead,” says Ten. “And Black Mirror,” suggests Mark. Taemin looks up at Ten with doe eyes and says “Stranger Things!” in a small voice, which Ten repeats at a volume everyone can hear. They go swimming in the house’s pool, play mafia and video games, and share meals, Taemin’s favorite. “I love that we eat breakfast together every morning. We wouldn’t do that if we weren’t close. We feel comfortable with each other’s company, it feels natural.” They’ve had everything from Korean meals and Chinese food to pancakes but, usually, they eat cereal. That is, until the diet destroyer gets involved. “We started off with Froot Loops,” says Mark, “and then we searched through the refrigerator and saw strawberry yogurt. Baekhyun was like ‘Alright, we’ve got to put the Froot Loops in the yogurt!’”

Between the seven of them, they speak five languages: English, Korean, Chinese, Thai, and Japanese, so “sometimes communicating gets very confusing,” says Lucas, switching into Korean for the last word, to underscore his point. Still, “we understand each other very well,” assures Mark, “and I feel like that's the true role of K-pop: bringing cultures together.” Ten nods in agreement. He can speak four languages and has remained alert throughout the interview, like a guard dog, leaning in to translate Korean or Chinese to English. “What’s cool is that we’re from different places, so when we talk we get to learn new vocabulary,” Ten notes, as Taemin looks on with cheeks full of water. “Sometimes I even teach them Thai,” he says, beaming proudly. “That’s the best part.” On cue, Taeyong presses his palms together, bows his head, and says the Thai word for “hello.”

SuperM has been focused on breaking into the United States, so many of the members have been learning English from Mark and Ten. Taemin, who is already fluent in Korean and Japanese, says “pronunciation” has been the hardest part. A few days earlier in an Instagram live stream, he playfully pleaded with fans of SHINee, called Shawols, to help him learn the language. When asked about that, Taemin smiles, shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, straightens his arms and splays his hands wide in discomfort, like a scared cat. With perfect pronunciation he says, “I hope to speak English well but...” and then makes a gesture that communicates, “I hope to get better.” Taeyong nods and says in English, “Step-by-step,” while Kai lets out a supportive, “Wow!”

In September, Baekhyun also took to Instagram to announce that he and Lucas were delighted and perplexed by the sound of one word in particular: awkward. The mention of this sets off a domino effect during our interview, as each member tries pronouncing “awkward” themselves. Then Baekhyun introduces a new word: turtle. He points to his mouth, which he has opened comically wide to get the sound just right, “Toooortle!” “The word turtle is so awkward!” summarizes Taeyong. Then they can’t be stopped—their favorite terms are flying back and forth across the table: Pronunciation! Positive energy! Level! Frog! Pioneers! Taeyong slowly sounds out “performances” and then claps for himself when he’s done. Over in the corner, Baekhyun leans back in his chair and crosses his arms matter-of-factly. “Turtle!” he says with confidence, one last time, as Mark bursts out laughing and Taeyong slaps him playfully on the knee.

The room is so warm with joy, so free from ego and pretense, that it’s easy to forget that these seven friends are some of the world’s most celebrated performers. Despite their differences—in age, language, culture, and experience—they function as a single solid, supportive unit, united by one goal.

For almost the entire interview, Mark and Taemin have been playing with two thick silver rings overlaid with heavy crosses. At one point, Taemin experienced a brief panic when Mark’s ring got stuck on his finger. “We got these as a gift from Mr. Soo Man Lee,” Mark says seriously, holding his up in front of his face. Each member’s ring bears a slightly different design, but they all “have ‘Super M’ inscribed on the back.” The accessory feels overtly symbolic: a physical reminder of the heavy expectations that unite them. “This is our Thanos Infinity Gauntlet,” Mark jokes, referencing SuperM’s branding as the “Avengers of K-pop.” As he laughs with Taemin, his face softens and he looks like the group’s little brother again. Then they both pick up their rings and place them back on their fingers, joining the rest of their team.

Source: Elizabeth de Luna

#exo #kai #baekhyun #t: interview #album: superm

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quirkless-and-embarrassed · 4 years

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Sir Nighteye

Ok, I watched the anime and felt like doing another character meme!

Spoilers for Overhaul arc/season four of the anime.

Favorite thing about him:

I like that Nighteye didn’t allow his admiration of All Might to turn him into a pushover. Such adulation could have blinded him to All Might’s flaws, something Midoriya struggles with, but Nighteye stood firm, spoke his mind, and took action in accordance with what he believed. The way Nighteye willingly, gladly admits to being wrong (about Midoriya and All Might’s decision to fight fate) makes it clear that it wasn’t pride that drove Nighteye away from All Might, but actually principles and genuine concern/panic. Nighteye was happy to be wrong, even though it meant that his failures to change the future were true failures and not simply something out of his control. Knowing this enabled Nighteye to let go of his underlying fear that his quirk didn’t just see the future, it set the future in stone, and he’s able to die peacefully after giving All Might and Midoriya his full, unconditional approval, and after internally apologizing to Mirio for seeing him as a vessel before realizing the error of his ways.

Nighteye presumably awakened his quirk when was four or five, and he was thirty-eight when he died. That’s thirty-four years—he could have used his quirk easily thousands of times, maybe more than ten-thousand—and never once has the future significantly deviated from what he saw. Essentially, his quirk’s been the daily Word Of God since he was five years old. It’s easy for Midoriya or Rock Lock to say, bring it on, I can smash fate; for Nighteye, who has actually tried, it’s a completely different ballgame. He knows what it MEANS to try to change to fate, but he’s determined to try anyways.

I like the balance Nighteye strikes between fierce idealism and calculated realism. Yeah, the narrative often criticizes realism for not being plus ultra, but it’s a quality I like. Nighteye wanted to carefully plan Eri’s rescue and Overhaul’s arrest, but his caution didn’t make him any less committed or passionate, or any less admirable than anyone who would have (tried to) saved her immediately (it’s not like Overhaul would let anyone walk away with her).

I like his hero name. The Sir invokes the honor of a knight, All Might’s vassal, the “eye” is obvious, and “night” because he can see in the “dark”: the future is clear to him. Plus, I like the night/knight pun.

I also like just how gangly, angular, and weird he looks. He has some quality body language with the angle of his head.

Least favorite thing about him:

His stamps…his abs…come on. He doesn’t need to a fantastic fighter. His stamps are a funny weapon to be sure, but it irritates me that they’re as strong as they are. It’s ridiculous that Nighteye could cartoonishly hurl Rappa the way he did, and it was stupid to tear his shirt to show off how ripped he was. I felt like Horikoshi was trying to show us that Nighteye meets the standards of a conventional hero, when he could be just as much of a hero using his brain. At the most, someone like Nighteye, who emphasizes logic and excels at predicting opponents’ next moves, should be carrying a gun like the police.

The tickle machine. Eughh. I could barf at how much I hate it.

It’s also frustrating that Nighteye completely wrote Midoriya off as a “quirkless middle-schooler” who could never become the Symbol of Peace and actively undermined All Might even now that he was finally raising a successor. I can at least respect how upfront he is about it: Midoriya knows what he’s getting into by the time he submits his work study application to UA. But even without that, Nighteye doesn’t trouble me as much as he did the first time I read the manga because 1) I figure Nighteye saw Midoriya when he foresaw All Might’s doomed future, because Midoriya is such a big part of his life that of course Nighteye saw him, 2) Nighteye is aware that they’re working on an extremely tight timeline: All Might is due to die within the next year or two, so picking a baby successor who’s going to need tons of hands-on guidance is a bad move, and 3) Nighteye paid the price for his “quirkless” comment when Mirio lost his quirk, and, despite what he said, it was clear that he didn’t love Mirio less, or respect him less as a hero, because of it.

I like that Nighteye appreciates humor, but his final speech about laughter and smiling, combined with Mirio’s determinedly positive reaction, makes me think that he may not have taught Mirio that it’s okay to be sad, that you don’t need to always smile. That would be a disappointing failure on Nighteye’s part, since the overwhelming pressure All Might feels to be positive+proactive is part of what made him unable to accept Nighteye’s criticism. It also fits with how Nighteye’s inner monologues tend to be more sympathetic than his actual dialogue, so maybe Nighteye should have tried to be less didactic and tell Mirio that he has been Nighteye’s pride and joy, instead of thinking that and giving Mirio a last speech on the importance of smiles and humor. I think he would have been a better teacher if he’d allowed himself to be more sentimental.

Favorite line:

My absolute favorite is in ch137, as he observes Mirio’s guilt from letting Overhaul retrieve Eri and bring her back to his headquarters. Nighteye thinks:

I can’t say whether or not the future can be changed. But we can change the past. How we view the past and interpret it. That much is possible.

It’s an important life lesson, and I like how he inverts the typical, “the past can’t be changed, but you can control the future so that’s what matters” perspective.

I also like it in ch130, when Nighteye berates-slash-comforts Midoriya, who regrets allowing Overhaul take Eri back: “Enough of that arrogant thinking! Haste makes waste. Go after him haphazardly, and he’ll slip through our fingers. You’re not quite so special as to save whom you want, when you want.” Then he elaborates on their plan and finishes with a bang: “The world is not so accommodating that you can act the hero because you feel like it. The cleverest villains out there lurk in the shadows. There will be times when every precaution must be taken.”

One more, in ch161. When he’s on his deathbed, Nighteye looks at Mirio and thinks, In the beginning…I only brought you in as a potential vessel, but you stuck by me, believed in me, and at some point…you became my pride and joy.

BROTP:

Him and Mirio. I love how Nighteye took Mirio under his wing in a half-logical way, viewing him as All Might’s proper successor, only to accidentally raise Mirio as his own successor.

I wish we got to see Nighteye and Aizawa interact more. They’re both the rational mentors who get attached to their kids. It would have been nice to see Aizawa talk to Nighteye about his problem child or about Mirio, or to help Midoriya navigate his relationship with Nighteye, but since Aizawa doesn’t know about OfA and Nighteye was on his way out anyways…oh well.

I’d also love to have seen Nighteye and Hawks interact. They’re connected on a meta level, as the unofficial righthand men of the #1 heroes, and also by the idea of fate. Nighteye’s arc centered on the fact he could see the future, and the future he saw could not be changed. Hawks may or may not know it, but the imagery surrounding him is unmistakeable, and we the readers know that some sort of doom is waiting for the man who goes too fast. Whether Hawks can defy fate or if he’ll be crushed by it remains to be seen (and, like Nighteye, he’s not looking promising).

Hawks takes one look at Nighteye—perfectly pressed suit, pinched, no-nonsense expression and all—and is like oh this guy looks like he’s gonna be fun. Nighteye looks even more tightly wound than Endeavor. But actually, Nighteye actually respects and appreciates Hawks’s cavalier attitude! And though they rarely see each other, since they live far apart, they become friends who mainly swap information and keep each other up to date on villain things. Occasionally Hawks will see something ridiculous, like a meme or something, and send it to Nighteye, and Nighteye follows Hawks on social media and sometimes likes his stuff.

It’d be especially interesting to see them disagree about All Might. Nighteye is such a hardcore fanboy, Hawks professes to not be a fan, the Symbol of Peace is such an important part of how Nighteye envisions the future, and it’d be interesting to hear Hawks’s perspective on the Symbol of Peace and where it fits into his vision of the future.

I also appreciate Nighteye and All Might’s relationship, but like…idk, they got so little time together in canon, I kinda prefer to think of it as a dead brotp. Even if Nighteye had survived, I would kinda want his relationship with All Might not to be very close, because even though they weren’t angry anymore didn’t mean they could pick up where they left off.

OTP:

Hmm…not really anyone. I haven’t read much Nighteye fic. There is this one touching soulmate AU where he and All Might both bear the black symbol of someone who has been rejected by their soulmate…here.

NOTP:

No, not really.

Random headcanon:

One of the reasons he reacted so harshly to Midoriya as All Might’s successor is that when he foresaw All Might’s death, he also saw Midoriya. Midoriya’s failure to protect All Might from his gruesome death revealed him as an unfit successor, and he believes if he can remove Midoriya from the equation, then he will have changed the future.

Nighteye helped All Might track down AfO to avenge Nana, and he felt partially responsible for All Might’s injury in addition to fearing that his quirk set All Might’s future in stone.

Nighteye used his quirk on All Might between surgeries, because he couldn’t stand not knowing whether All Might would survive his wounds from AfO or not. He should have stopped when he saw All Might survived, but—he’s such a fanboy, and he saw that future!him was terrified and arguing with All Might about something, and he knew immediately just from the expression on his own face that he’d foreseen All Might’s death. He couldn’t resist looking ahead to find it and learn how much time All Might had left.

…part of me thinks that the reason Nighteye’s foresight was wrong about Midoriya’s death was because Eri also has a time-related quirk, and there was nothing Midoriya really did to change fate. Which would be sad, but. Yeah.

I’d like to think that Nighteye had a really wacky, judgmental cat with a questionably funny name. It sat on top of the fridge and looked down on him when he came home late. After his death, it becomes his agency’s cat and harbors a dangerous grudge against Bubble Girl’s aromatic bubbles.

Unpopular opinion:

It seems like plenty of people dislike him, so…I like him? He’s not even close to one of my favorites, but still.

Even though I like him, I was surprised to discover he was dead—I forgot he died, so I guess his death scene didn’t leave an impression on me. Looking back on it, I think it’s a nice enough scene, but at the time I was probably too exasperated by the overhaul arc as a whole to care much.

idk, I don’t see people talk about him much.

Song I associate with him:

uh…um…well……there isn’t really any music I associate with him. Here are a few songs that are very loose associations, I guess.

Darkside of the Sun by Tokio Hotel reminds me of how All Might’s public persona has taken over his identity, and Nighteye is seeking to save his life by retiring his persona.

Carry Me Down by Demon Hunter has the line “I know the pain inside my heart / can’t break the fear inside of yours,” which reminds me of Nighteye’s grief can’t persuade All Might to confront the reality of his imminent death, plus other stuff in the song about unspoken regrets and death.

And last, Turns to Dust by Sound Surfer and Nilka reminds me of Shigaraki (for obvious reasons), but I think it also speaks to Nighteye’s fear of his quirk.

Favorite picture of him:

Ch126 – Nighteye’s glare when Midoriya mimics All Might’s smile! He sure is intimidating 😂

Episode 75 – This moment did nothing for me in the manga, but it was genuinely moving in the anime. The voice acting and music <3

I’ve also done Todoroki, Bakugo, Uraraka, Endeavor, Amajiki, and Shinsou!

#sir nighteye #nighteye #sasaki mirai #bnha #bnha s4 spoilers #nerd mumbling #text #ask meme #mirio #hawks

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floralguccistyles · 5 years

Text

one: live long and prosper

The tech crew at Outset Studios now had a drinking game. Every time I was asked about Harry Styles, they took a shot.

It wasn’t a very uncommon thing for them to stumble out of the building at three in the morning, very very drunk.

At the beginning of my career, this hadn’t happened much. I started Alien Crossing, my uni podcast, in a tiny little studio that London Metropolitan University had in their theater’s basement. I had about five downloads a week, and most of my listeners assumed that I had been born and raised in London. I let them believe it. It wasn’t that I was lying to them, per say, but I had no desire to be connected to Holmes Chapel. The only thing back home that I liked were my parents, and they had already made peace with the fact that if they wanted to see me, they should come visit me in London because I refused to step foot back in Cheshire.

Five downloads turned into twenty, twenty turned into ninety, ninety turned into two hundred and fourteen, and my numbers continued to grow. With the growth of my downloads also came the growth of background knowledge of my person. Including my middle name, my birthday, my parents’ names, and where I was born and raised.

The questions about growing up in the same town as one-fifth of the biggest boyband in the world started to come in around that time. And their number only grew when I graduated from university and my podcast was picked up by Outset Studios, which had a significantly larger number of listeners than London Metropolitan University did.

The tech crew who now took shots whenever Harry was mentioned had once been impressed with the knowledge that I knew Harry Styles. It didn’t last long. Whenever he was mentioned, Jeremiah that worked sound rolled his eyes and whispered something to Veronica, his assistant. I could never hear his whispers, but I knew they at least weren’t directed at me. He always gave me apologetic smiles when Harry was brought up. Veronica had once nearly squealed every time the One Direction member was mentioned, but now she just let out an annoyed breath and gulped down coffee to keep from screaming at whoever sent in emails about him.

They had traded in coffee for something stronger when my podcasts hit two thousand downloads.

I watched them now, pouring what looked like whiskey into shot glasses before clinking them together and pouring them down the hatch, so to speak. I wished they at least had the decency to pour me a shot as well. I hated getting asked about Harry just as much as they did.

Technically, the questions about Harry were partially my fault. On Alien Crossing, I was a big advocate of talking to the guest in question as well as answering fan emails. Jeremiah liked to tell me AC was more of a radio show-slash-podcast, but I really just liked interacting with my fellow nerds. The emails I used to receive were actual questions about whatever topic I was blabbering about that week, but since people had found out that I was born in Holmes Chapel, I got questions such as “what was it like growing up with Harry Styles?”

Which was precisely why Jeremiah and Veronica were drinking now.

Karris Vincent, my guest of the week who had been discussing the importance of sci-fi novels and her upcoming book Among Us, saw the look on my face and wrinkled her nose at me in solidarity, as if to apologize for the email glaring from the computer screen in front of me. I saw her eyeing the bottle of whiskey Veronica and Jeremiah were drinking with incredulity, but Jeremiah made a gesture to convey that he would explain the reason behind it later.

“Karris, do you have anyone famous from the town you grew up in?” I asked, purposefully avoiding the question for as long as I could. I had a scheduled fifteen minutes left of AC and I would spend the next fourteen minutes and forty-five seconds not discussing Harry Styles.

“Yes, actually, Lena Headey,” Karris supplied helpfully. My eyes went wide at the mention of the Game of Thrones star and Karris nodded excitedly. “I actually ran into her once when I was younger. It was when 300 was super popular.” The look on my face must have conveyed my jealousy, for Karris let out a soft laugh. “I can see the heart eyes you’re making right now.”

“It’s because Petra’s a nerd at heart,” Jeremiah supplied helpfully, his voice coming through on the headphones.

There was once a time where being called a nerd would have offended me, but it didn’t anymore. Mostly because I knew Jeremiah’s jab was done in kindness and friendship, but also because I’d long since stopped caring what people thought of me. I loved what I loved and I wasn’t going to be ashamed for it. Besides, with the popularity of Alien Crossing, nerds all around the world were listening to me nerding out and actually enjoying it.

“Lena Headey is just the perfect specimen, really,” I added, shrugging my shoulders though my listeners wouldn’t be able to see it. “I’m a huge fan of both Game of Thrones and 300. It’s my brand.”

We chatted for a few more minutes about Karris and her experience with celebrities when I caught Veronica’s gaze. It was an expression that let me know it was time to answer the question about Harry Styles. Bile didn’t physically rise in my throat, but in my mind it did.

“Getting back on topic, I never really interacted with Harry when we were in school. We had our different friend groups. But it’s always nice to see some rep from Holmes Chapel.” Lies, lies, and more lies. If I were to tell the truth about what growing up with Harry Styles was like, I’d have teenage girls all around the world clutching their metaphorical pearls. “Karris, thank you so much for coming to nerd out with us.”

She laughed in that airy tone I’d been listening to for the past hour. It wasn’t annoying by any means, but I’d wondered more than once for the past sixty minutes if it was a real laugh. “Thanks for allowing me to nerd out with you guys.”

“Keep a look out for Among Us if you like aliens, romance, and government conspiracies. This is Petra Gallego signing off. Live long and prosper, my young padawans.”

That had become my official sign off. In my first ever episode of AC at Outset Studios, I had been so nervous that I had jumbled the two phrases together. I slammed my head on the desk afterwards. But people seemed to enjoy it. They liked quirky things like that. Jeremiah and Veronica rolled their eyes every time I said it, but they had advised me to keep it simply because it was like a signature now.

Karris carefully peeled the headphones off the side of her pretty brunette hair, done up in a fancy braid that would have taken me hours to complete. “That was really fun, Petra. Thanks for having me.”

“Of course! My only payment is a signed copy of Among Us.”

She blushed, waving me off. “Oh, I’m sure you don’t want it.”

“No, she absolutely does. Aliens and romance? That’s like a nerdgasm for Petra,” Veronica called out from the sound booth, offering me a glass of whatever whiskey they had been drinking. I quickly shot it back, ignoring the burning sensation and instead focusing on the fact that I didn’t have to think about Harry Styles for at least the next week.

“Oh yeah, I meant to ask. What’s with the whiskey?” Karris asked.

“It’s a drinking game we have. Whenever Petra is asked about Harry Styles, we take a shot. Want one?” Jeremiah offered, holding out an empty shot glass. I wondered briefly how many glasses they kept in the sound booth.

“I’m good, thanks though. I noticed you looked a little off when he was brought up. Did you guys date when you were younger or something?”

I snorted. Definitely or something. The idea that Harry Styles would actually willingly date me was laughable. Considering the last words he’d ever said to me before he’d fucked off to X-Factor were “get your head out of your ass and grow up, Gallego” when his friend had taken my copy of Lord of the Rings and thrown it on the wet ground. The words were in response to my reaction, which was to promptly burst into tears.

Still, I had to give credit where credit was due. He’d never done something as vicious as throwing my book into a puddle, so he wasn’t a complete monster. It was a compilation of different things that made Harry Styles public enemy number one. Sure, he’d never been physical with his distaste towards me, but words affected me more than actions. Words seemed sneaky and fake. At least his friend who had ruined my book left no room for interpretation.

It was also because he was famous and I had to hear about him. All. The. Time.

Selfishly, I had hoped that when One Direction took their break, I could escape him. For a while I did. He was rarely sighted out (which I learned later was because he was working on his solo album) and my emails had dwindled until only interest in my podcast remained. And then his solo record had come out and everyone and their mother wanted it and wanted to know what I thought about it.

And yeah, okay, the music wasn’t bad. But even his name left a sour taste in my mouth.

“Or something,” I answered Karris, shrugging my shoulders. I took a look at the watch on my wrist and winced. “Shit, Karris, sorry. I know you’ve got an early flight to catch.”

The one drawback of Alien Crossing was the time in which we recorded it. Outset didn’t have a studio available until one in the morning, which was the slot I’d been given. By the time the guest and I got settled and actually recorded the podcast, it was about three in the morning. I was used to it, simply because I’d been doing it for so long now; I was even prone to coming to the studio in my pajamas. I knew Karris probably wasn’t used to the late nights.

“Don’t apologize. It’s another platform for me to advertise the book. And you warned me about the time, so it isn’t your fault.” She cracked her neck to the side in a move that made me incredibly jealous. I wish I could do that. “Plus, I’ve got a great neck pillow and a ten hour flight ahead of me.”

The idea of going to bed sounded heavenly. However, I knew I needed to stay behind to help Jeremiah with some editing. There usually wasn’t much, but we listened through the full podcast to make sure the sound wasn’t weird in some places, or that the conversation flowed. “That sounds great,” I mumbled, unable to keep the jealousy out of my voice.

She laughed another light, airy laugh.

“I went ahead and called you an Uber, Karris,” Veronica said, giving the pretty brunette a smile. If I hadn’t known her well, I would have thought she was flirting. Veronica had a naturally sultry face, with pouty lips and hooded eyes. I also knew she was in a serious, monogamous, nearly five-year relationship with her biology lab partner from her first year at uni. I had only met Veronica’s girlfriend once, but it was obvious they were very much in love.

“Thanks. Can I take a water bottle for the road?”

After Karris was situated and the 2003 silver Toyota Camry had picked her up, Veronica gave Jeremiah and me a sleepy goodbye with a promise to text the both of us when she got home safely. Then the two of us made our way back into Outset.

“Sorry about another Harry question,” Jeremiah stated as he held the door open for me. I shrugged him off, beelining a route to the comfy chair in the soundroom. It was old, worn leather, the kind you just sunk right into. I wanted to get a similar one for the studio, but since I didn’t actually own the place where we recorded, I figured that would be a little inappropriate.

“It won’t matter in about fifteen seconds when you offer me another shot of whiskey.” He gave me a wry smile but nevertheless poured me another glass. I tilted my head back and let the liquid slide down my throat.

“You know, you never told me what happened between you two anyway,” he mentioned, sitting in a chair across from me.

“Not much to tell.”

He snorted. “I don’t believe that for a minute, but I won’t push it if you don’t want to talk about it.”

That’s why I liked Jeremiah and Veronica. My parents, though I loved them, wanted to know every detail of everything going on in my life. When I was getting bullied in secondary school, they had wanted to know what my bullies had said to me, verbatim. That’s how I could think of a solution, they used to say, as if it was my responsibility that my schoolmates were pricks. Jeremiah and Veronica didn’t push anything if they could tell I didn’t want to discuss it.

“I shouldn’t let the emails about him get to me as much as they do, but…” I trailed off. I knew exactly why they got to me. It wasn’t because he had made my life miserable or because I hated him. It was because, deep down past my new life motto of self-love, I was still protective of what I loved as if someone were going to ridicule me. I wanted emails from fellow nerds about the four hour extended version of The Fellowship of the Ring or comic book aficionados who were subscribed to Marvel’s website like I was. I didn’t want emails about Harry Styles because I wanted what I loved to matter.

“But they do,” Jeremiah continued, nodding his head. “I get it. You built up AC by yourself. You don’t want the focus to be on someone you grew up with.”

“Exactly.” I was glad Jeremiah could put words to my jumbled mix of thoughts. He was good at stuff like that. Many a time he had been my unofficial therapist, especially on the weeks when appointments with my real therapist had to be cancelled.

“We could always stop doing the email bit, Pet. As a podcast, you know you aren’t required to.”

I had thought of this on many occasions, whenever my inbox was filled with questions like what toothpaste Harry Styles used. But for every ten emails about Harry, there was one email gushing over how they binged all of Star Trek and wanted my opinion on certain plot points. And for me, that one email was worth it. If I could give validation to a fellow nerd, that was what I was going to do.

“I know, but did you hear the email about the girl who visited Roswell? She was so excited to see the site of the UFO crash. If I stop doing emails, we won’t get good content like that. I can’t connect to people listening with just guests.”

“Pet, they debunked the Roswell UFO crash in the seventies.”

“I know, but it’s still interesting to hear conspiracy theories.”

Jeremiah sighed the sigh of a babysitter putting up with an energetic child. The analogy described our relationship pretty well. He was prone to bursts of childish ideas, but for the most part he was the level headed one out of the two of us. Veronica was the most responsible of the three of us, but that was because by the time she made it into the studio she was half asleep and couldn’t form speech.

“Whatever,” he dismissed, waving his hand in the air, “let’s get to editing.”

It took about forty minutes since the podcast we had just recorded had gone fairly smoothly. There was a weird pause when I read the email about growing up with Harry, but Jeremiah cut the weird silence with the press of a button. After we were done, we both took another shot of whiskey despite knowing we’d both probably wake up with headaches.

“You’re not driving home, right?” he asked, grabbing his coat. He was dressed like a normal adult person would be, in jeans and a graphic shirt. I, on the other hand, was in pajama pants depicting pandas at the beach and a long grey thermal shirt. I had taken off my slippers before Karris had come into the studio, but they were resting by my main setup.

“Nah, I’ll probably Uber it. Zach getting you?”

Zach was Jeremiah’s younger brother. He was in his first year at uni and in exchange for using Jeremiah’s car whenever he wanted, he had to pick up Jeremiah from the studio whenever Jeremiah had too much to drink. Which was pretty often. Overall, I didn’t envy Zach his responsibilities.

Jeremiah nodded. “I texted him a bit ago. Should be on his way. Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“I will. I might stay here for a couple more minutes and jot down some ideas for future episodes. We’ve only got until June scheduled.”

His inky black brows rose. “Yeah, Pet, because it’s January. I think you’ll be fine if you took the night off from planning.”

“You say that, but June will be here before we know it and then you’ll be forced to come up with ideas and guests and you don’t need that kind of responsibility.”

He glared before shrugging. “All else fails, I’ll just ask Harry Styles to be a guest.” He had only a second to dodge the pen I sent flying at his head as a deep cackle left his mouth. “Only kidding. I’d prefer to keep all my limbs and appendages.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

Plopping a sleepy and quick kiss to the top of my head, he waved me off. “See you next week, Pet. Don’t stay here too late, yeah?”

“I won’t. Say hi to Zach to me.”

I heard the door close behind him and through the glass of the sound booth watched him walk out of the studio. I curled my knees up to my chest and balanced my notebook on the knee, debating on who I could get in the studio next. We had some pretty cool guests scheduled, including a science fiction professor that traveled and taught some classes at different universities. My dream was to get Peter Jackson in the studio eventually, but I knew that it was impossible— and I would probably have a heart attack if I was in the vicinity of Peter Jackson.

I jotted down a couple of ideas before I seriously considered Jeremiah’s words. Every so often I debated on swallowing my pride and reaching out to Harry to ask if he would ever be interested in being on Alien Crossing. From what I had seen in interviews over the years, he seemed to have changed for the better. But whenever I started planning out how I would possibly ask him, I remembered that it didn’t matter if he had changed for the better. He had made my life miserable. And I didn’t know if I wanted him in my sacred place. Besides, interviews weren’t always candid and unfiltered. He probably had coaching on what to say to not ruin his image. Who knew if his kindness and maturity was real?

My phone pinged with a notification as I ran my hands through my hair. I lifted it briefly, seeing Jeremiah’s name across the screen.

Got home safely. If you’re still at the studio, I’m gonna kill you. Zach says hi.

I smiled to myself. Jeremiah was a rare diamond in the rough. When I had started at Outset, I had been terrified. Sure, people listened to my podcast at uni because there was a big population of arts and humanities students. They liked reading and watching films. At Outset, I was surrounded by radio shows and mainstream ideas. I was worried that no one would care about things like how it was a shame Firefly only got one season.

Then Jeremiah had come, like a guardian angel sent directly for me. I had been wearing a Harry Potter shirt and he had asked what house I was in. The nonchalant and non-judgemental way he had casually asked the question nearly made me cry. Then, when I had answered that I had been sorted Ravenclaw on Pottermore but was a self-identified Hufflepuff, he had lamented over the fact that he so clearly belonged in Slytherin but had gotten Gryffindor.

Veronica and I had gotten off to a rockier start simply because she wasn’t into any of the same stuff I was into. She liked current pop culture and shopped at Harrods. She owned perfume by Yves Saint Laurent. She was the opposite of me in every way. But she had gotten used to my random fits of nerdiness and had been kind, kinder than anyone had been in a long time. And then, when my first Outset Studios Christmas rolled around, she had gotten me a box set of The Hobbit movies (I already owned them, but it was very sweet of her) and a Harry Potter sock advent calendar. And when we had come back from the holiday, she offhandedly mentioned that she caught the first two Harry Potter films on their annual Christmastime marathon and wanted to watch the rest of them. She had even let Jeremiah and I sign her up for a Pottermore account to sort her.

She was a Hufflepuff. Naturally.

I’m calling an Uber now, Dad, I responded. Which wasn’t exactly a lie, since I opened the Uber app and was prepared to get a car when I remembered the question about Harry Styles. Followed by a remembrance that there was still half a bottle of whiskey and I had a perfectly empty shot glass.

Get your head out of your ass and grow up, Gallego.

Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t think of Harry much. I didn’t want to focus on him. I prided myself on being a fairly positive person. Usually, I could brush off the emails about him. But something was stirring in my stomach tonight, and the taunts and jokes at my expense came rushing back like a flood.

Knowing I was going to have a killer headache in the morning but finding that I didn’t much care, I took another shot.

And then I ordered a 2017 white Nissan Sentra driven by a woman named Clarissa for the ride home, forcing all thoughts of Harry Styles out of my head until next week, when I would inevitably be asked about him again.

My therapist, a lovely woman named Doctor Thorne, suggested that I relieve stress through physical activity. We had tried simple touches at first, lightly running one or two fingers over my lips to spread parasympathetic fibers to my nervous system. Then, we had tried simple breathing techniques. But I didn’t have the attention span to keep my breathing even. So, we had come to the conclusion that yoga might be beneficial.

Usually it was. Except for when I was stuck in a position I couldn’t get out of.

“Petra, your pigeon pose is atrocious,” Melody mentioned from beside me. Her pigeon pose, naturally, was flawless.

“My body wasn’t meant to bend this way,” I whispered angrily. And it truly wasn’t. My legs were too short to reach my arms properly in the position I was supposed to be in. Melody had the long, gangly limbs needed for this particular pose.

“Shh,” someone hissed from in front of us. Melody and I immediately exchanged a look and tried to keep from laughing.

If Jeremiah and Veronica were my work best friends, Melody was my best friend in every other aspect. We had met at Dr. Thorne’s office when she was coming out of the office and Dr. Thorne had asked me if she could run to the bathroom before our session started. Melody was an impulsive sharer, which was how five minutes later I had her entire life story and her phone number in my phone, in case I “ever wanted to chat.”

We had met for coffee a week later.

Since then, Melody and I had latched onto one another. She didn’t have many friends and hated her roommates because they always left their flat messy. I didn’t have many friends and lived in a one bedroom that was barely big enough for me but the rent was low. It was a pretty beneficial relationship for the both of us, since we had a convenient friend to invite places and she crashed on my couch when her roommates were being especially shitty.

“Slowly come out of the pigeon pose,” our yoga instructor commanded from the front of the room. Melody and I always strategically grabbed a place in the back because we got away with talking. Sometimes. By the glare on the woman’s face in front of us, we weren’t getting away with it at the current moment. “And then let the top half of your body lower to the mat to transition into the cobra pose.”

This pose was one I could do at least. But I was stuck in the pigeon pose. Melody reached over and pressed up on my back to get me the momentum I needed to lean forward. I sent her a grateful grin.

Since Dr. Thorne had recommended yoga four months ago, I had tried to get to a class at least once a week. Melody wasn’t seeking stress relief, but she didn’t mind yoga as a form of exercise considering she hated going to the gym. Soon enough, weekly yoga became our thing. We tried to do it twice a week, once in an actual studio and then once at home, but our home yoga sessions usually turned into us drinking wine and watching the telly.

“Great. I can’t do this pose,” Melody grumbled under her breath. Since the cobra pose involved pushing out the chest and tilting the head back, I understood why she had trouble with it. Melody had back problems because her tits were massive. Whenever I lamented the fact that I wasn’t blessed in the chest region, she was quick to put me in my place. And considering she was only twenty-four with the back problems of a seventy-year-old woman, there was some truth to her scoldings.

“Don’t do it if you’re going to hurt yourself,” I stated in a hushed tone. I knew she wouldn’t listen. Melody, along with being an over-sharer and having massive tits, was also incredibly stubborn.

“Fuck you, I’m fine,” she whispered back, grunting in annoyance when her back let out a loud crack.

“Shh!”

“You want to try doing this pose with these tits, lady?” Melody was quick to reply, narrowing her eyes. The woman in front of us looked slightly offended and shocked, like she couldn’t believe how vulgar Melody was being. I didn’t think it was one of the most vulgar things that had left Melody’s mouth, but I was probably just desensitized.

Still, it was effective. The woman didn’t shush us for the rest of the yoga class.

“Every time we come here I hate myself more than I did before,” Melody mentioned as we made our way to the women’s room. I usually liked to wait to get home to take my showers, but since Melody’s roommates were notorious for taking showers that were two hours long, her shower at home was more than likely occupied. So I sat on the bench in the ladies room while Melody took a quick shower.

I didn’t mind yoga. Sure, I wish I could relieve stress by sitting on the couch and doing nothing, but it was better than cardio. If Dr. Thorne had suggested cardio for my stress, I might have had to find a new therapist. “It isn’t so bad,” I called out, a little louder than normal since I knew firsthand how loud the showers at the gym were.

“Yeah, because you don’t have boobs the size of a small country.” A sudden waft of the body wash I knew Melody used hit me in the face like a fist. She always used too much. “We heading back to your place after this?”

“If you want. I’ve got to sort through some emails for AC and contact a couple of guests to confirm, but then afterwards we can get some food and watch the telly.”

Melody and I didn’t like the same shows. At all. But we were selfless with one another because our friendship was important to the both of us, and so we took turns choosing what show we would watch. Last week had been my turn, so I knew I was bound to end up watching reruns of Gossip Girl tonight. I didn’t hate the shows Melody watched, but there was only so much gossip, money, and toxic relationships I could take before I begged her to turn it off.

“Oh yeah. Who’s in the studio next week?”

She was also very diligent with inquiring about how AC was going. She worked as a data analyst at The Associates Global. I still didn’t know exactly what her job entailed, but she was quick to offer information whenever I had questions. Melody thought my job was the coolest thing since sliced bread considering she didn’t know podcasts were a thing. She had been an avid audiobook listener before I converted her. Now, I couldn’t get her to stop listening to podcasts.

“Rick Baker. He’s an incredible special effects makeup artist. He did the makeup for An American Werewolf in London.” Melody emerged from the shower, clad in a tiny baby blue towel. She had a brow raised. I knew this meant that she had no idea what that movie was and was wondering if he’d done work in a movie she’d know. “He also did the makeup for Jim Carrey’s Grinch.”

“Oh how fun,” she mentioned excitedly. “If he has time and the two of you aren’t super tired, you should have him give you some pointers.”

Because I was me and my mind was an endless black hole of nerd questions and aspirations, I had dabbled previously in special effects makeup. I wasn’t terrible at it. I had made Melody look like a mermaid last Halloween, complete with bright pink and purple scales all over her body. I was nowhere near a professional though.

“Maybe I will.” Melody quickly changed into a clean version of the outfit she’d gone to yoga in— leggings and a tank top. Since it was January, however, she also had thrown a cardigan on over her shoulders. No matter how hot yoga had made us, the second we stepped out into the London weather, we would regret not having on long sleeves. “But for now all I can think about is curling up on my couch and eating Chinese food until my stomach protests.”

“We’re awful yoga people. We should be getting green smoothies at a juice bar right now.”

I raised a brow. “Do you want to go get green smoothies at a juice bar?”

“God no.”

The gym where we did our yoga was in Croydon, so it was only a twenty-three minute bus ride to my flat back in Merton. Merton hadn’t been my first choice for a flat location in London, but Outset was a ten minute walk from the flat that I had found for a decent enough price. Melody usually ordered an Uber back to her place in Wimbledon or sometimes took the bus if she had time to deal with public transit. Since I didn’t have a car, she was stuck doing the bus with me if she wanted to go back to my place.

Luckily for me (because I was so lazy) my flat didn’t require me to climb up any stairs. I don’t know how’d I’d gotten lucky with that one, but when the landlady had told me, I jumped at the opportunity to move in. It was also perfect for days like today, when Melody and I had sweat our asses off at yoga and my legs felt like jelly. I didn’t think given my current state I could climb any stairs.

“Make yourself at home. I can’t do anything until I shower,” I announced when I let Melody and I into my flat. It was a tiny, pathetic little thing, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t need much. Most of the equipment I needed for AC was either kept at the studio or Jeremiah let me store it in his flat. Melody immediately flopped onto my couch and groaned.

“I’m not moving for the next hour and a half. Want me to order the Chinese?”

“You’re my savior.”

I heard Melody’s laugh as I made my way to my bathroom. My sweaty clothes were immediately thrown into my hamper, which was really just an extra cupboard that I hadn’t found a use for. I ended up shoving a laundry basket underneath it and deemed it to be my dirty clothes hamper. Ignoring the growing pile of clothes to sit in said hamper, I turned the shower on and let the water run for a minute. It took a little while for it to heat up to the scalding temperature I wanted.

My parents had complained when I was younger about how hot my showers were. It hadn’t been a serious problem before, only mildly annoying when they tried to go into the bathroom afterwards and they were sweating by the time they had come out. It had only started worrying them when I once had the water up so hot that I had passed out. Granted, I hadn’t eaten that entire day either, so it was a combination of both. But since that moment they had limited the temperature of the water or the amount of time I spent in a scalding shower. When I moved to uni, the showers had shit water pressure and wouldn’t get to the burning temperature I wanted. These two facts meant that since I was in my own flat, I could burn my body to my heart’s content. Which was exactly what I did when I stepped under the stream.

I had minimal bath products in my shower. There was a generic face wash, vanilla scented body wash, and a shampoo/conditioner set I had picked up at the TK Maxx by the studio. It annoyed Melody, who was a firm believer in having seven products in her skin care routine, but the four products I owned had served me well so I wasn’t going to change them up for the heck of it.

The hot water would have been enough to lure me into an hour long shower if it wasn’t for the growling of my stomach. I sighed, lamenting the warmth my shower offered when I cut off the stream and stepped onto my bath mat, wrapping myself in a bright red towel I was pretty sure I had gotten as a house-warming gift from my mother.

“We’re watching Gossip Girl!” Melody announced, probably hearing the bathroom door open when I stepped out.

I didn’t bother replying. She knew how I felt about the show. Instead I walked to my closet and changed into thick leggings and a jumper I’d owned since secondary school. In fact, I was pretty sure Harry had made fun of this exact jumper once long ago. It was a pretty pastel green, plastered with the words “gravity...always bringing me down.” It was one of my favorites, despite the fact that I had wanted to burn it when Harry and his friends had made fun of it one day. It had hung in my closet, forgotten and lonely, until a couple of months after he had left for the X-Factor and I had bravely worn it once more.

Padding out to the living room, Melody offered me the mug of tea she had made for me and I took it gratefully, even if it burned my fingers. My laptop was on my couch from last night, when I had gotten home from the studio and sent a couple of confirmation emails to guests that would be here for AC later this month. Setting my feet on the coffee table in front of me, I opened up the laptop and clicked around until I got to AC’s official email.

Most of them were encouraging. They were excited for upcoming guests and the hour-long podcast I had planned to discuss the Marvel Cinematic Universe thus far and how I thought Endgame would end. That week would be fun, considering I had a sketch artist that worked with Marvel on one of the Captain America comics. It was one I had yet to read, but I already had it in my list on Marvel Comics official website, which I paid for monthly. It was an edition of Captain America that had Sam Wilson as Cap, and I was excited to see how he did as America’s symbol.

Some of them were about Harry and for more information on what growing up with him was like, but I ignored those. Like I always did. I tried to reply back to emails that we didn’t get to read on the podcast, but the ones about Harry were always left opened and read, never to be brought up again. These particular emails were about the question I had been asked on the last episode of AC, which was whether Harry had many girlfriends in secondary school.

As I was scrolling and Melody was complaining about something playing out on the telly, I noticed an email from someone with a Harry email name. These weren’t uncommon. Usually Jeremiah and Veronica looked at them if they wanted to have a laugh. But this wasn’t from a normal gmail or yahoo account.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Petra,

I caught your last episode of Alien Crossing and listened to it on a trip I took over the weekend. It was, for lack of a better term, amazing. I never knew how much work went into the production crew of a big sci-fi film. The lads and I had large crews when we filmed music videos, but it was nothing like your guest last week was describing. It was really interesting.

I’ll be in your area in two weeks. I don’t know if you’d want to, but I was wondering if you’d want to get together? Maybe get a bite to eat or something to drink? Haven’t seen you since secondary school and would like to catch up.

Hope to see you soon,

Harry

“Holy shit,” I mumbled under my breath, my eyes locked on the words on my screen. It could have been a joke. It probably was a joke. It was probably someone pretending to be Harry. Because the Harry I knew wouldn’t have been so courteous and kind in an email to me.

“I know, right! Can’t believe Chuck sold her for a fucking hotel!”

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chucklestheechidona · 4 years

Text

Freedom Fighters - An Unceremonious Death

For the love of god let them die

Look, I like the Freedom Fighters. More the reboot than the preboot, they have less baggage, but still, I respect what they did. But if you’ve read my other dumb things you also know I think Red Dwarf USA had a real chance of working, so maybe I’m just insane.

Either way, this whole Rally For Sally business has been going around and disturbing the usual culprits from their dens and I feel I should say something.

“The American Canon“

This is a stupid sentence and yet thrown around as you like. There is no American canon, there is just “The Canon” and “Non-canon.” Believe it or not, the people who make the product get to decide what’s done with it and what is canon.

If you made something and then in France they made an entirely different story with concepts and themes you didn’t want to explore, you’d be hesitant about including or acknowledging it. Same with Sega of Japan.

But then why did Sega allow this to be made?

Well, I think this needs a tad bit of history behind it.

We’re going to the 90′s

Denim was in, the future was here, everything in 2000′s would be chrome and the Y2k bug was on the horizon.

Ohno

But Sega of Japan had an issue. Their arcade machines were selling like nobody’s business but they wanted that sweet console piece of the pie, but had no winning mascot. Alex Kidd, unfortunately, wasn’t moving as many consoles as they had hoped, god knows not enough to rival Mario.

They needed something cool, something different, somethi- It’s Sonic. You know it is, I know it is, I ain’t dragging this on.

It did well enough in Japan, but Sega was focusing on international markets with this game. It had a somewhat universal design, helped by the basis being Felix and Mickey Mouse which were popular around the world, with catchy songs based on both Japanese and American releases from the past.

It was going to be a hit.

Or... was it?

Did they need to do more?

Well, Sega doesn’t just have Sega of Japan. It had SOE and SOA as well. Europe and America respectively. Others too I’m sure but my memory’s off.

SoA and SoJ had a somewhat shaky relationship with each other, but then again, so did other companies back then. It was a new foray into public relations. Japan built the consoles that actually sold, America had to sell them, but there was a big gap between the countries, how things were interpreted, different values, and let’s not forget, American pride and greed.

AMERICA in the 90′s

SOJ needed this thing to sell big. Sonic was going to be a global success if they could help it. And let’s be honest, it was.

America had it’s own plans on what Sonic should be, and SOJ actually listened to some of them. Madeline Schroeder, product manager at the time for Sega in the US, actually went to Japan to say what she thought Sonic would be. As of this, they removed Madonna and Sonic’s tie-in with a band, as well as changing certain design traits in the US because “Sonic looked too Japanese.“

And then had the gall to call herself the “Mother Of Sonic”

Again, in a world where shitting on other people’s culture is a big no-no, and for good reason, how that managed to be fine is insane.

It’s a Japanese fucking product, Madeline.

Alongside this, as SOA hadn’t had much access to the Japanese backstories (although, the manuals should have been fine enough), when it came to marketing the games as an ongoing story (and ready in time for the cartoons they wanted to push) SOA made their own Sonic Bible, for use outside of non-Japanese territories.

This would have the seeds of what most people know, Freedom Fighters, Eggman once being good, Sonic being part of the good fight, etc.

[Astoundingly, when they made the cartoons and everything, Fleetway would be the one to actually stick closer to this than Archie/Satam/Underground/Aosth ever did so who’s talking about canon now huh]

Japan didn’t really notice nor take heed. One could make a good case for their complete obliviousness to what SOA was doing. You can tell because absolutely nothing from the bible/comics/magazine ever appeared in a Japanese Sonic game. Spinball was Sega Technical Institute, an American Division. Not Sega of Japan.

On top of this, as I see a bunch of people who go “Sega is disrespecting the American canon”, interesting fact. In Europe and Japan, the manual for Sonic CD clearly states Amy Rose is in the game. Sega of America actually edited this to say Sally, despite not going through and changing the sprites. If that’s not disrespect towards the creators of the games I don’t know what is.

The Canon

The problem I find with this is that, let’s be honest, if we had to look at this from an objective viewpoint:

Japan released a game.

America sought to profit off it, but didn’t like it was very much Japanese, not American.

They changed the story to be more American themed, changed the art design to look more American drawn, and ignored the Japanese additions to the games by editing out the Japanese characters in the manuals.

Because they wanted to profit off a different culture’s work by changing it wholesale so it didn’t resemble the culture it came from.

Nothing about SatAm’s premise or creation says anything about the original material it came from, just heavily adapted without any input from it’s creators to resemble a more American product.

You know how Japan saw Sonic?

This cute lad who acted more like a cartoon Felix the Cat type figure.

Now I get it, especially in the 90′s, everyone was localising. The markets weren’t as much the same, god knows they gave Ratchet attack eyebrows to be appealing etc.

But this was so anti-Japanese that the fact they were profiting at all from a Japanese product is insane.

Adventure

Back in Japan in the 90′s, they didn’t really have much of an idea what they were doing with the canon. They had plans but they seemed to be not as stable as they would have liked. The amount of games they were pumping out with different Eggman attacks and characters and if the GG games fit in with the MD games-

They needed something a bit more stable.

So when it was their time for their biggest game yet, they started to reign things in. In Japan. In Europe.

In America.

Sonic Adventure would be the basis for the stories for the next decade or so, with some revisions on what came before, what was mainline, what have you.

At this point, SOA’s cartoons had all died and the only thing remaining in the Sonic canon from that time was the Archie comic, still ongoing. But yet America still pulled this stuff off.

In the original script, Eggman is still Eggman. None of this “I AM DOCTOR ROBOTNIK, GENIUS OF THE WORLD” schtick.

No changing the manuals this time at least, so they’re getting better.

Over time, the only surviving things to come out of the canon, which Sega was nice enough to do considering, was

- Chilli-dogs - I HATE THAT HEDGEHOG - Robotnik being Maria’s surname

Didn’t you have something to say about the Freedom Fighters?

Why yes I do.

So, the Freedom Fighters for me, as much as I like them as , represent an American centrism. Not only was America not a Sega dominated market, for Nintendo did better and Europe was buying Sega consoles like candy, but the characters and show weren’t that popular outside the country anyway.

Ask someone in Europe in the 90′s who Sally Acorn was and unless they had access to a specific channel they wouldn’t have the first idea. Amy Rose, for sure, she was in the games.

I didn’t know who Sally was until Mega Collection Plus came out, and the UK STILL manages to get Sonic games in the top of the charts when they come out.

Aosth was shown more abroad with more appeal, the comics weren’t sold internationally, let alone in Japan.

To be all “But these characters cemented the Western fanbase” is mental.

The comics sold somewhere in the tens of thousands in their hey-day. At the same time, Sonic games were selling millions. The comic and show are so old that unless you were part of the 20,000 buying the comics recently or pirated them, you don’t even know who they are.

Fleetway was the only Sonic comic we got in the UK, and there’s more fans that have grown up with Sonic Adventure being the basis which had absolutely no inspiration from the Western products.

These characters are relics of America taking the mick out of a Japanese product in order to make more money and produce shows.

To say they’ve made a big impact on Sonic in the world is really stretching it.

F.A.Q

But you said you liked the FF’s!

I do, but in the same way I like AU’s. It was interesting, of it’s time and it said a lot about the culture it was made in. Like, comparable to Tails gets Trolled or Fleetway

B-but I really like the FF’s!

Good for you, don’t let me stop you. Again, I like a bunch of the stories.

Are you a Japanese purist?

Fleetway is cool and I liked the Boom show, and I liked Robotnik better than Eggman as a name.

I heard that some Japanese fans actually liked the FF’s though...

And more power to them. Again, Red Dwarf USA does a lot to shit on what made the UK version so good but I respect what it tried to do. Again, even I like the FF’s to an extent.

Why did you write this all out?

Seeing all this Rally for Sally has brought out all the insane people who shout at SOJ for being gits for not respecting the American canon despite the American canon being born from a disrespect to the Japanese creators.

What about IDW?

Ironically I actually liked Reboot more but also I was younger when I read them.

What do you think of Tangle and Whisper getting in?

I need to read more of IDW but they’re good enough. As for getting in the games, these designs were vetted and passed through SOJ first and the comic is overseen by them. On top of this, T+W don’t come from a place of SOA taking the mick.

But Sega has used these characters before and ESTABLISHED this as canon why are they changing it now-

I see this a lot, usually with certain people. Dobson’s a good example of why this is stupid. When the Japanese revert changes made to characters like Mario/Zelda/Samus by the West, they didn’t radically change their personalities, they just reset them to what Japan intended.

Japan never intended for the FF’s, the three heavily contrasting cartoons and Knuckles is Jesus Christ Superstar.

They just reverted him back to the sole guy on Angel Island.

Do you think Sally should get in to Sonic Dash?

No more than I think Tekno or Sonia does. They’re old, irrelevant, gone. If they do get brought in for a cameo I’d be happy enough, I like dumb nods to non-canon things.

However, there are crazy people out there and you give them an inch and they’ll take a mile. Best to leave it.

Hotel?

#Sonic the hedgehog #Freedom Fighters #Sally Acorn #Rally4Sally #America #Japan #Hotel?#Trivago

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arbeaone · 5 years

Photo

ShellsuitZombie Magazine Issue 2 Published on July 26, 2011

[ View larger version here ] Text from the article can be read below. (There may be some errors.)

I, BOLLO

One spectacularly sunny lunchtime, ShellsuitZombie managed to hunt down a rare Gorilla only common to Clerkenwell London. Dave Brown, most famous for his role as Bollo in The Mighty Boosh, spends most of his time as a designer and photographer producing (alongside Boosh work like 2008s spectacularly successful 'The Mighty Book of Boosh') beautiful printed staff for clients like Universal and the BBC, as well as of course the odd performance to tens of thousands on arena tours around the country. It's safe to say we were feeling pretty smug about trapping him in a pub in Clerkenwell (which happens to be just below his studio) for a pint and a chat about Design, the future of Boosh, Noel's new book and photographing Julian Barratt and villagers in Ghana.

SSZ: So Dave/Bollo, what would you consider to be your main job?

Dave: I guess I consider myself to be a creative, the Boosh started as something I did with my mates as a laugh and it blew up into something huge. I've always had to juggle the worlds of and Design, quite often for me they overlap, obviously when you're out on tour it's all consuming but even then I've been known to be sat in my hotel room on a squeezing the odd freelance job in.

So you've always been freelance?

I couldn't be full time, in the early days I needed the freedom to be able to drop everything and get involved in a Boosh project at the drop of a hat, so freelance was perfect, then just before the first live Boosh tour in 2006 I did something I'd always wanted to do and set up my own agency, aptly named Ape, with a mind to be more of a collective of creatives rather then just a sole trader It allows me to get all the amazing creatives I've had the pleasure of meeting and working with over the years involved as and when I can on all kinds of creative projects.

It's been pretty full on since to be honest, so full on in fact that I haven't even had time to launch the website! It always gets pushed to the bottom of the to do list when I'm busy and then when I find the time to get back to it I've gone off everything I've done and start again. There's a holding page up at the moment that says 'Gorillas can use up to 52 different tools.They're currently using those tools to build this site'. Well they're obviously rubbish at using them because it's taking them bloody ages to finish!

Would you say Boosh has helped the rest of your career?

I guess so, although you could also say it's got in the way. I am doing a lot of books now as a result of the Boosh book but many of my clients haven't a clue who I am. I've done work for Feame Cotton, Ben Brooks, James Rhodes, Nick Cave and recently comedian Tim Key as a result of the book and Boosh work in general. BBC books actually just rang and asked me if I'd be interested in designing this years Top Gear guide to Christmas book! They've approached me because they said they loved the Boosh book and would like my take on things. Will be great if that's true but I'm not counting my chickens just yet. I recently did an interview with Radio 4 where I went on a massive rant about Jeremy Clarkson's stonewashed pumpkin arse not fitting into my Morris Minor so if they get wind of that it could be off ! (Ed.- Since doing this interview Dave has stepped away from the Top Gear job due to, shall we say, creative differences)

It sounds like books are your bread and butter. How do you go about designing a successful book like ‘TMBOB’?

I don't have a process, I approach everything from an idea, every brief is obviously different and I design to that, so it's a bit worrying when people say 'I love the Boosh book, can you do that for me?' - I interpret that as can you adopt a similar way of approaching the brief rather than making it look exactly like the Book of Boosh. The Boosh book was designed around the characters really, the style and feel of each page born from an idea in the writing and from the vibrancy and diversity of the show, a 4 column grid with a consistent type style was obviously never going to work!

The Boosh book sold incredibly well, largely due to the popularity of the show, but we were also very keen to not just make it a standard off the shelf spin off shitty annual like most TV show books. Like all Boosh product, we're very hands on, mostly doing it ourselves and we dedicate time and effort to make sure the final product is worthy of the show. That's pretty unique to be honest I think this attention to detail and quality control is what makes our fans so insanely loyal. We haven't done anything new in ages but the books and DVD's are still selling, purely down to the quality of the design of course!

Surely not everyone just wants you for your Boosh?

No, like I said, I have a fair few clients that don't know I'm in the Boosh, in fact, awhile ago when I was still freelancing, one client left me in charge of their studio before getting on a flight to New York, on the flight they watched a Boosh ep and saw me playing Joey Moose in the first series. They were like 'Is that the guy we just... what the fuck?'

Bollo has played to some huge crowds...

Yeah the last tour we did was insane, Wembley Arena, multiple nights at Brixton, selling out the 02 two nights on the trot, it's been a crazy time and I'm so lucky to have had those experiences, it is hard after a touring sitting back at a computer designing but I get my kicks out of the creative and I still keep a toe in show business with a bit of directing, writing and the odd gig here and there. To be honest it's hard trying to keep it all up and sometimes I wish I just had one job to do. Design isn't exactly a part time job is it! and I've also just had a baby girl, so lets just say I'm pretty tired and exhausted at the moment, I'm smiling though, honest.

What are you up to at the moment?

At the moment I'm working on a book with Noel called The Scribblings of a Madcap Shambleton, not Boosh related, it's basically a book about Noel’s art and writing and I'm design and compiling it. There's also a lot of my photography in it. It's a visual bombardment of Noel's mind really, paintings, sketchbooks, scribbling, it's looking amazing. He's pretty prolific, such a huge body of work. He's been painting for years, unlike some famous freaks who get a set of colouring pencils for Christmas and decide through boredom that they're now an artist. Noel can actually paint his tits off and does so every moment he gets and has done for years so at the moment I'm trying to get 530 pages down to 320! What's really interesting about the work when you see it all together is that you can see how he writes to inspire his painting and he paints to inspire his writing, I know I'm biased but I love his stuff if you haven't seen it think Basquiat, Haring, DeBuffet, Magritte, Hockney, Aubrey Beardsley...

So are there any plans in the pipeline for the Boosh?

Well everyone's working on separate things at the moment Noel is busy doing his own show 'Noel Fielding's Luxury Comedy' and Julian is doing a Russian play at the Young Vic 'Government Inspector'. Those two have pretty much become Howard and Vince.

The last thing we were working on was the album. I was told when I last heard it about 3 months ago that it was 90% done and it sounded immense then so no idea what's going on! It has all the tracks from the show reworked, longer and better as well as new ones written for characters, I reckon they all stand up in their own right, even if you'd never seen the Boosh I still reckon you could get into it, the new Crack Fox track is incredible! It's a great album, people should have it in their ear holes right now.

People always ask if The Boosh have split up, I guess it’s inevitable when nothing new has happened in a while but we haven't and stuff will again, Noel and Julian do things when they're ready, they've produced so much material over the years, they're just having a break at the mo. There's still loads of stuff on the table that's never seen the light of day, but they'll do it when they're ready and when they do it will be great. They just need to find out where that table is...

Is the passion still there?

Yeah of course, always will be, for them and for me. You always come back stronger after a holiday, just maybe a little sunburnt, haha.

So I hear you're involved in some charity work. Fancy talking about that for a bit?

Yes, I love talking about it! I have just become an ambassador for afrikids.org, A freaking ambassador! Afrikids is a charity focusing on child rights in Northern Africa - They've been an absolute joy to work with, I've done some fundraising for them as Bollo, I've rebranded them, not as Bollo, and I even got the opportunity to spend some time in Ghana last year seeing their projects firsthand. I was filming and taking stills for their library, it was an incredible experience - it sounds clichéd and worthy saying it was life changing but it was. The Upper East region of Ghana is an amazing place, the people are beautiful, many of them have next to nothing and yet they're so welcoming, so happy, so positive and an absolute joy to photograph. From a portraiture point of view it was incredible. You expect a certain amount of shyness or self awareness from someone when you stick a big camera in their face but everyone there was so natural and un-effected. They would just look right down the lens without a hint of embarrassment or effect. I couldn't stop taking pictures. I need to go back, there's a chance I will be involved in an ambulance convoy driving donated medical vehicles and equipment from Southampton to Bolgatanga in Northern Ghana next year, imagine the photographic opportunity there! There's a book in that... If I could do anything I'd be travelling the world taking pictures

How does that compare to shooting backstage on tour?

Worlds apart in terms of there being more more booze, hairspray and ... erm ... humous but actually not that different from a photographic point of view, it’s still about getting yourself in the right place, sensing when to be anonymous and when to get in amongst it. I'm lucky with the Boosh obviously because I'm an insider, it means everyone acts as if there wasn't a camera around, except Rich of course who turns into a complete psycho, nutjob, showoff whenever any recording equipment appears. He's a shy introvert mouse normally!

The trouble with me taking all the backstage Boosh shots is that I'm never in any of them, but then when we get photographers out on tour to shoot us I always feel for them because they usually get nothing! Especially when they're big personalities and act all crazy and hyper like that's what we react to! I always smile to myself and think 'you're not going to get anything here mate, especially from Julian' He rarely gives me anything photographically let alone a strange cool cat called Moses in his silly hat and mad trainers wondering why in every shot he has of Julian he's talking or eating!

I can imagine him being a pain in the arse

Not at all, well, maybe just a little every now and then but aren't we all? He's also the most truthful loyal down the line no shit guy you'll ever meet, he's also fucking hilarious and one of the best comic actors out there.

How did you meet?

Me, Noel and Nige (Boosh animator and co creator of Noels new show) went to see Julian do standup at uni - he was fucking amazing. Noel had wanted to go in for an award which Julian had won the year before, the daily telegraph open mic award, so thats why we saw him ... I think ... but then they met in Edinburgh and both got signed to the same management company and started writing together. Then they did three years in Edinburgh before the radio and TV shows. Being there from the off means I have photography all the way back to the source, I plan to do an exhibition and book some day of the lot, maybe next year, I think it’s 10 years since the first series? I may be wrong, my mind is mash, too much humous on tour.

OK We have some questions from ShensuitZombie readers. Graeme asks: Where are you keeping the severed head of the honey monster*?

* After a Sugar Puffs advert used a similar crimping style to the Boosh, Bollo exacted his revenge on the brand’s iconic beast live on tour.

Ha, I don't know where that is. It's probably behind a bin backstage somewhere in a Scottish theatre. The last gig on our last tour was in Aberdeen, I don't know whose fucking idea that was. It was a great gig and the people were amazing but we it did feel a bit of anti climax, although the journey back to London was ridiculous, it felt like it was half an hour! The honey monster head, I don't know, it's probably in Peter Kay's bed, discuss.

Holly asks: Do you find yourself grunting and acting like a primate after being onstage?

It's the most powerful thing to be in that costume, and acting it - especially in real life situations, I've found that out when I've been doing charity work, fundraising in banks and stuff, getting in lifts and acting nonchalant amongst business men and women. Some people react well and have a laugh, embrace it, others desperately try to ignore the fact that they're standing in a lift with Gorilla, others have massive heart attacks and die at my primate feet. It's weird for kids because they either run up and cuddle you or freeze, have meltdowns and are forever scared.

A friend recently did a film with John Landis [Director of American Werewolf in London and Thriller] who is apparently obsessed with monkey impersonators. He has a room in his house dedicated to all the monkey actors of the world and reckons he can tell who is in any monkey suit in any film anywhere. So he asked my mate for a signed photo of Bollo and I had to send him a strange signed shot like those ones you see in New York dry cleaners. Still, now I know I'm in John Landis's monkey room I sleep better at night.

John asks: In the Bollo Cadburys ad parody is it you in the suit*?

** If you don’t know what this is referring to, look here: tinyurl.com/bollocadburys

Of course it is, how very dare you suggest otherwise...

Which is your favourite episode?

Milky Joe is awesome, I love Nanageddon and Old Gregg and in series 3 it's got to be Eels. It’s tough to pick a favourite, I genuinely piss myself at most of them even when I watch them back now.

Is anything ad-libbed?

Yeah, have you met Rich? Ever tried to get him to say the same line twice! It's always where the best stuff comes from, harder in TV land but on tour it’s encouraged and is always where the gold comes from, also keeps you alive, when you're doing 6 shows a week for four or so months you need to keep it fresh.

In fact, there was one thing that Bollo had to do in the live show, rolling a big prop offstage. One day the caster caught and I stacked it, incidentally ripping my leg open in the process. It got the biggest laugh of the night so I carried on doing it for the rest of the tour!

Thanks Dave, it's been sweet.

No worries, nice to meet you.

And with that, like an ape in the woods, he was gone.

Check out Dave's site - www.apeinc.co.uk

Dave took hundreds of photos of Ghanaians on his recent trip with Afrikids, a charity for whom he is ambassador.

#Dave Brown #Noel Fielding #Julian Barratt #The Mighty Boosh #ShellsuitZombie #ShellsuitZombie Magazine #`❦

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raisingsupergirl · 5 years

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The Value of Value

Kids these days. AmIright? No respect. No appreciation for how good they've got it. Take my daughter… please! Okay, sorry. I think Rodney Dangerfield possessed me there for a minute. But anyway, back to my daughter. I lamented last summer (and again in the winter) about her demeanor on the soccer field. She' was a jogger. She was a walker. She was a half-hearted gawker. In short, she had zero competitive spirit, but she loved being there with her friends (#facepalm). We made it through both outdoor and indoor soccer without much progress, but I was hopeful that t-ball would be different because it's not a contact sport. Maybe she wouldn't be intimidated so much, and thus she would get into it a little more. Wrooong. She's had two games so far, and both times she's been the kid throwing dirt on everyone else the whole time. And her daddy has never been closer to having a stroke. I'll finish that story in a minute, but I should really get on with the point of this blog first: self-therapy. That's all it is. God's showing me things from a different angle. My daughter loved soccer, and now she loves t-ball. But she refuses to actually play either of them when she's there. Everyone assigns value differently, and it's time that I learned that. So here goes.

Hard work and dedication. If a thing is worth doing, it's worth doing right. Life is so awesome that it's a crime to waste a single moment. These are the things that define me. I'm not a perfectionist, but I try to be. I love creating and learning new things. And I love the payoff—the sense of accomplishment from completing a challenge or goal—and I'm a huge fan of the reward system. As I've said before, 2019 has been an insane year for me. I put way too much on my plate. There hasn't been a week yet that I didn't work at least sixty hours between my "day job" (physical therapy), my editorial jobs (both at Havok Publishing and with freelance editing), and my writing career. There have been times when I've wanted to quit or at least just take a weekend off, but one thing (aside from the thrill of the challenge) has kept me going: the payoff. July 21st. That's the day when it will all be worth it. It's the day after my last writing conference of the summer, and everything's leading up to it. I've edited dozens of stories and hundreds of thousands of words so far this year, and I have many more to go. But by that day, I'll be done with my own book, as well as with the culmination of six months of stories for Havok. I'll be able to sit back and take a breath… an entire weekend away from any real work. And most importantly, I'll be able to enjoy the ultimate guilty pleasures prize package that I've amassed for myself:

1 bottle of Ole Nassau Dark (rum that can only be purchased in the Bahamas)

1 bottle of Tawny Port wine (aged ten years)

1 Romeo y Juliette Churchill cigar (Cuban)

1 farm-raised sirloin steak literally the size of my head

So here's the thing. Everything on my reward list is bad for me. If I enjoyed them for every little occasion, they would turn to ash in my mouth (some more literally than others), and they would eventually kill me. But as a one-time reward for a seven-month sprint, they'll be heavenly. I put value in working hard and enjoying all of what life has to offer, but some people would call me naïve. Where I say life is too short to waste a day, others say it's too short to work all the time (and honestly, they'd be right… until stopping to smell the roses becomes a permanent nap in the poppies). Some four year olds place value on training to be the next Nolan Ryan (you know who you are, kid), and some just like to fill their shoes with as much of the infield as possible before the inning is over.

"If you keep playing in the dirt, you're getting a spanking when we get home."

Quite a dugout pep talk, right? Well, hear me out. Before the game, my daughter had promised me that she wouldn't play in the dirt. Before she walked onto the field, I made her promise again. But within a minute, she was already throwing the stuff everywhere. She was piling it up and packing it in her shoes. I tried to get her to stop. Her coaches tried to get her to stop. Even one of the other kids told her to stop. But apparently she puts some serious value in dirt (I can only assume that she's going to make an amazing excavator someday). And after my dugout threat, she went right back to the dirt. On the way home, I informed her that she would be getting the aforementioned spanking (not because she misbehaved but because she lied. She only gets spankings for lying, though, in this case, there was definitely some interpretation of the law needed to justify the punishment), and I took it one further.

"If you even look at the dirt during your next game, you're never playing t-ball again."

"Okay…" she said in her sweet little voice. "But why?"

$#@&#*$!!! Are you kidding me?! "Because it's t-ball, not dirt-ball!"

And that's when I realized that she really didn't get it. She was playing t-ball. She was out there with all the other kids having a blast. She's even a great hitter (about a .250 batting average with the coach pitching and 100% off the T) even though her mother and I haven't practiced with her nearly as much as we should. Maybe she'll eventually develop a love for some actual sport, or maybe she'll always be a butterfly chaser. Either way, these experiences (and her memories) will go one of two ways, and I'm sure as heck not going to be the father who ruins them. If that means chewing a hole through my lip at every game to keep from yelling at her, so be it. If she throws dirt on other kids or doesn't listen to her coaches, there will be repercussions, but if she's intent on digging her own infield grave, I'm going to have to be okay with that. At least for now. Why? Because she's assigning value in her own way. She's growing and learning where she fits in. And in the end, she's still four years old, and it's just intermural t-ball, not the World Series.

And hey, if I need to uncork that Ole Nassau rum a little early to get me through this season, I don't think anyone would blame me.

#t-ball #intramural sports #patience #parenting #mumblr #dadblr #momblr

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fortunatelylori · 6 years

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Jon’s speech to Dany

In the comments section for my last meta I was asked a couple of questions that I thought would be interesting to address more at length, since the comment character limit is so small. If you haven’t noticed, I tend to be a very wordy writer. Anyway, thank you @yol101 for your lovely comment and for giving me the opportunity to talk about this.

Btw, if you ever want me to discuss anything in particular, please leave it in the comments or message me. I’d be happy to answer if I can. :)

The comment is below:

Bravo again for this great analysis. Thoroughly illuminating and a joy to read. Question about the speech Jon gave about her accomplishing extraordinary things. Can that be interpreted as romantic, real admiration on his part or just a bit of ego stroking? And another question that has kept me awake for many nights: why are Jon’s hands and nails so dirty in the Drogon scene? Is that deliberate too? Why? To show us he has been personally mining dragon glass? Or did Kit just not wash his hands?

So … I’ll start with the second question first since it’s quicker to answer:

why are Jon’s hands and nails so dirty in the Drogon scene? Is that deliberate too? Why? To show us he has been personally mining dragon glass? Or did Kit just not wash his hands?

Well … I can’t speak to Kit’s personal hygiene but I hope he does wash his hands regularly. It’s a health hazard not to. :)))) @trinuviel mentioned in the comments that they used a hand double for the scene so I think it’s safe to assume that the dirty hand is deliberate. As to why, I believe you are correct in that it’s an indication that he is personally mining dragon glass.

Aside from that, though, it also creates an interesting juxtaposition with Dany, for those that notice this small detail. Let me explain …

Dany’s world is extremely sterile, formal and deliberately isolating. Whenever I think of Dany, I think of this image:

Or this:

She’s always high up there, somewhere apart from everyone else, looking down on the rest of the world. This is not a critique of her, btw. It’s an observation. I actually find it very sad to think about just how alone she really is.

She has no real relationships with anyone, no friends. She has people who serve her. They’re either advisors like Tyrion and Vayrs, who are with her because they see in her the best chance Westeros has or people who worship the very ground she walks on, like Missandei and Jorah. While being worshipped sounds great in theory, it’s an extremely isolating place to find yourself in. There isn’t even anyone in her entourage that calls her by her name. She’s always Your Grace or My Queen.

Maybe that’s what makes her fall so hard for Jon. She sees in him a chance at a real, grounded relationship. So if the political!jon theory is correct, that would only make the blow that much harder to bare.

In contrast, Jon is down on earth, with the rest of the people around him. All of his relationships are grounded. Even Davos, bless his heart, who is the only one who tries to enforce Jon’s title struggles with whether he should be called King Snow or King Jon. Me thinks King Jon Stark, the First of his name has quite the nice ring to it ….

Even when Jon is in positions of power, he is never completely isolated.

As Lord Commander he sits at a table above most of his brothers, but there are still people sitting next to him:

King in the North? Sansa is right there next to him

So that small visual queue actually gives us a lot of clues about the inherent differences between the King in the North and the Mother of Dragons.

Onto the other question:

Question about the speech Jon gave about her accomplishing extraordinary things. Can that be interpreted as romantic, real admiration on his part or just a bit of ego stroking?

The reason why I like to quote the lines of dialogue without the visuals that go with it is because the meaning of the words become clearer without all the visual and auditory context. Plus Jon looks really hot in this scene which I think distracts people from what he’s saying. So let’s just look at the speech without the deep voice, dark, penetrating gaze and gorgeous cascade of black curls:

I never thought that dragons would exist again. No one did. The people who follow you know you made something impossible happen. Maybe that makes them believe that you can make other impossible things happen, build a world that’s different from the shit one they’ve always known. But if you use them to melt castles and burn cities, you’re no different. You’re just more of the same.

So, is it romantic?

You know what the single most romantic thing about this speech is? The music that is playing in the background. It’s beautiful, sweeping, haunting and bitter-sweet. Just the kind of piece you would expect to hear over a romantic scene.

That being said, call me crazy but what I want in a romantic speech is someone telling the heroine how special she is because she’s smart, or strong or how she affects him. Anything that has to do with the personal qualities in that person, not the fact that she has dragons. This is about as romantic as a guy telling you you’re special because you own a Chanel bag.

Maybe that makes them believe that you can make other impossible things happen, build a world that’s different from the shit one they’ve always known.

Here, he is even questioning why people follow her. Maybe they follow her because they believe in her … maybe they’re mistaken … that sounds like the message there. It’s telling that when he talks about building a different world, the camera cuts to Varys. Because that’s exactly why he says he’s following her.

The end of the speech is punctuated by a shot of Tyrion. Why? Because he’s been telling Dany the same thing since they landed in Westeros.

If we turn the dragons loose, tens of thousands will die in the firestorm.

Conquering Westeros would be easy for you but you’re not here to be queen of the ashes. We can take the Seven Kingdoms without turning it into a slaughter house.

So if we were to think of Jon’s speech as romantic, why shouldn’t we think of Tyrion’s as romantic as well? The truth is that the speech isn’t about romance at all but rather the basic conundrum at the heart of Dany’s arc.

She is special because she made the impossible possible by emerging from the fire with 3 dragons, people follow her because she has dragons which makes them believe she can do other impossible things but in order to do these impossible things (break the wheel), she can’t use the dragons. It’s a catch 22. It’s like the atomic bomb. It keeps the peace but it can also destroy life on Earth. And there’s nothing romantic about the atomic bomb.

Is it a bit of ego stroking?

I think Dany feels he is stroking her ego. I think she thinks he’s telling her she’s special. But Dany, and I apologize to her fans for this, isn’t very smart. But don’t take my word for it. Take hers:

Enough with the clever plans.I have 3 large dragons. I’m going to fly them to the Red Keep.

I’m sure Napoleon scoffed at “clever plans” all the time, too … Not.

What Jon actually does is ego depravation, not ego stroking. I don’t know if he does it consciously or not, but what he’s really saying is:

People think you’re special but if you burn people alive, you’re not.

Essentially he is pushing her to prove to him that she is the kind of leader that can “build a world that’s different from the shit one they’ve always known” and is not “more of the same”.

Is it real admiration?

Hmmm … this is harder to tackle because there’s nothing in the text to settle the question conclusively either way.

What we can do is ask ourselves that is it that Jon admires? Can we find someone whom he actually admires and see if we can compare them to Dany?

I would point to two people actually: Ned, of course but also Joer Mormont. And it’s the latter that comes into direct contrast to Dany in this scene.

Here, Dany is attacking and humiliating Tyrion is front of everyone, including people that are not in her inner circle (Davos and Jon). Even more than that, when they want to excuse themselves, she makes them stay so they can witness Tyrion’s public spanking.

Jon and Mormont had a similar moment in season 2, in Craster’s keep when Jon speaks out of turn and upstes Craster. While Mormont tells him to shut up, he doesn’t unleash his anger on him in front of everyone. He waits until they’re outside and talks to him privately. He is stern and obviously angry with Jon but he doesn’t humiliate him publicly.

This is just a small snippet I found that I think shows that what Jon admires in people isn’t something that is found in Dany, at least not in the scene we are talking about.

#got #got7 #anti-jonerys #anti-daenerys #my got meta

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