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kuttanjal123 · 2 years

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BLINDFOLDED

"We suspect that you've been involved in the murders of Carol Lynch, Stella Mason, Johnnie Windmill, Debbie King, Annie Upton, Carter Butch ... the list goes on," said a sheriff. "In total, eight victims accounted for."

"Sir, I couldn't harm anyone. My family means the most to me. I'm great with kids. I love them," Dad said calmly. "I'm not a killer."

"We've been monitoring your activities and daily routine. While you did teach at the Maximillian University of Arts, here in Louisiana, Daunton College in Illinois, Rochford University at Michigan, and Bohr Institute of Technology at Arizona, you didn't work those long hours beyond the schedule you told people you had signed up for. You were out, hunting for prey, to kill."

Mom sent Morgan inside his room and locked it from outside. We knew he was capable of hearing anything and figuring stuff out. An inquisitive person. Things were getting pretty severe and harsh. The last thing we needed was to have him find out what was going on when we didn't know. Kids are super smart that way.

"That's impossible. I have strong alibis for where I was on all days. Didn't you check them out?" asked Dad.

"Why don't you take a polygraph? Prove us wrong. We'll let you go. Until then, you're in custody."

"I can't speak without my lawyer. You can't arrest me without any physical evidence!"

"Oh, there's plenty of evidence for sure—"

"Look, I don't like the way this is going," snapped Dad. "I refuse to speak without my lawyer."

Larry Douglas's lawyer was on TV, backing up Dad at every allegation thrown at him.

"The suspect will remain in custody until he is cleared of all allegations of foul play. For today the coverage marks its end," said a reporter.

I couldn't believe it. A week passed by, and Dad's case had created a media frenzy. It was the holidays, and we didn't leave the house until school reopened. When school was back in session, the press followed us everywhere to see if they could get something out of us.

They became so intrusive to the point we had to close our windows with the blinds every night and turn out all the lights. I hoped to find peace and comfort at school, but I was wrong. The whole school began to distance themselves from us, and so did the neighborhood community. Andy and Dwyane blocked me. I couldn't call or text them. Natalie shut me off completely, too. I decided to confront them.

"Dude, what's the problem?"

They began walking away from me.

"No, for real?" I said, blocking them. "Do you guys actually believe my dad killed people? He's a serial killer?"

"I don't know what to say, man. But they're some pretty heavy allegations," said Dwayne.

"What's there left to talk about?" asked Andy, puzzled.

"So, you guys think my dad's guilty?"

"We don't know what to think, but we can't be friends anymore. Sorry."

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh? Well, fuck you!" I screamed as they walked away.

I called Natalie to talk to her and explain myself. She refused to answer my call. The next day at school, I caught her walking outside the cafeteria.

"Please!" I begged as she tried to walk away. "At least you have to believe me!"

"David, your dad is being accused of some serious crimes. I don't think we should be together."

"So, you believe the police too? After all this time? I joined basketball to get back with you and revoke my passion. I loved you, and now you doubt me?"

"Don't text me or call me. This is the last time. If you try to get close to me, I'll get a restraining order," she said, walking away.

Morgan faced the same problem too.

"Nobody talked to me at school today!" he cried as I walked into the house. "Everyone stared at me, and no one sat with me during recess. They kept saying, 'Your dad's going to jail. He's bad, and he's gonna die. What's going on?'"

"N-nothing," I said. "It's gonna be fine, OK?"

Things went downhill for good when Dad was seen in an orange jumpsuit on tape, sitting in a chair and staring at the camera.

"I, Luke Parker, confess that I killed all the people mentioned in the list circulated in the media by the police. I admit that I lied initially during the police interrogation. Please leave my wife and kids out of this," he said without any emotion.

The police stated: "It was a needle in a haystack that led us to arrest and convict Luke Parker."

The images of the identified victims were displayed on the screen one after the other. Mom and I were shocked and didn't know what to say or how to say it. I, for one, didn't know how to comfort her since I was in denial. We both went to our rooms and stayed there for several hours to process what we had just witnessed. We didn't have any political contacts, nor were we in a position to make calls since we feared our lines would be tapped. I then closed my eyes and what I saw was a very different picture of Dad than what I had perceived. I remember noticing him out during late nights on certain days past our bedtimes, and for some days, I just didn't see him at home. I assumed this was normal since he was friends with other professors at the university and would have slept over at their houses during late nights.

I remember spotting a single brown hair on his jacket one night after he came in late and a red splotch on his shirt. It seemed suspicious, but I didn't ever confront him about it, nor did I want to pry. I guess I trusted him too much to believe he would do anything grave or foul. By the time I replayed these events in my mind, the two of us had gathered in the living room simultaneously, and by then, we had to come to face reality ... my father was a serial killer. A murderer, a criminal. How were we gonna live with this truth? People's hunches were correct. We could not go back to being normal since our family wasn't normal anymore. Although Dad was known to the media and world as the serial killer Luke Parker, we became criminals in school. We were mistreated, neglected, bullied by all the students and teachers, left out, and judged for Dad's actions.

There were protests in our neighborhood asking us to leave the community, verbal slurs thrown around, things thrown at us. Just pure hate. Notices sent to our home and left on our door ordering us to leave the neighborhood. I ran to my room and cried uncontrollably. People hated us, and suddenly, we were portrayed as individuals involved in these crimes who had knowledge about them but protected my father and never turned him in.

We decided to leave and drive away to Canada to start a new life. Living in the USA wasn't possible since news circulated 24 X 7 on my father's wrongdoing, and we were now victims of a media storm. Leaving the house and packing took and felt like forever, with the media hovering over us like bees ... After we dropped out of school and started on our way to Canada, we were stopped and taken into custody. The police interrogation went on for hours, trying to get one of us to confess, knowing about his crimes.

We were asked to take polygraphs, and we all passed. We were cleared as suspects. But that didn't mean that everything was over and done. Dad was set to be put to death. His punishment? The Electric Chair. We never visited him in jail on death row or spoke to him after the announcement.

While Mom was driving, she suddenly pressed the brakes and looked at me very calmly.

"Honey, nothing happened, right? Dad didn't do anything. They have him in custody, but he's gonna come back to us someday. It might take time, but we'll see him again. He's just wrongly accused," she said, smiling.

I froze, looking at her, not knowing how to respond.

"Right?" She raised her voice.

"Yeah, Mom, you're right," I gulped.

I knew what that meant—it meant not coping with the reality but rather simply pretending that nothing happened. She could do it, but how was I going to?

"Mom, why were there people taking our pictures all the time?" asked Morgan.

"Because they thought we were famous. But we're not," answered Mom with a wide smile.

Casey called out for Dad, as I turned around and held her hand, nodding slowly. She was biting her toy, as she happily motioned with her hands full of drool.

We were desperate to find a place to stay. Mom read a newspaper advertisement regarding a well-furnished condo: a single bed, two bathrooms, and a kitchen. We slept in the car and didn't shower for a couple of days.

We managed to seal the deal. We weren't prepared for the very unsafe and violent neighborhood. We could hear people cussing at each other in the night and loud gunshots firing. For many nights, I couldn't sleep and kept my eyes open. I was petrified. Morg and Casey fell asleep very quickly. Mom did after a while. But there were moments in her sleep where she would wail and scream in the night. I would pat her to calm her down.

Blythewood Public School seemed to meet our requirements and was luckily within our district. Maintaining a low profile, we hardly interacted with anyone. If we were labeled as loners or anti-social, so be it. The last thing we needed was for either one of us to blow our cover and for someone to find out who we really were. In the months following, I focused on studying hard.

I didn't make or want to make the basketball team. But I certainly did practice during recess at school, hoping to divert my mind. There were moments I teared up in school, having nobody to console me, looking around in shock and despair.

As dawn turned to dusk, I realized Mom wasn't in bed. As I got up looking for her, I saw the bathroom door slightly ajar. Peeping inside, I saw her take a white packet from under the sink, a money note from her pocket, and roll it out. She began snorting the powder. I barged in.

"Mom! What are you doing?!" I screamed as I tried to knock it out of her hand.

"Dave, stay out of this, leave me alone," she said as she pushed me away.

"NO!"

"Go and get some sleep. I know what I'm doing."

"Mom!"

"Get out!"

She managed to put up quite a violent fight with me, and I was soon thrown out. I banged on the door, pleading for her to open it.

"Dave, what happened?" asked Morgan as he yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"Morg, it's just a bad storm, OK?" I said as I carried Casey, who was wailing.

Morgan fell back into bed as I put Casey next to him and I lay beside them, not knowing what to expect next.

Mom came out smiling wide, acting perfectly fine.

"I feel so good, Dave," she said before she lay down.

Silent, I cried myself to sleep almost every night. But Mom's nightmares and moaning escalated to the point that she jumped out of bed, broke down the front door, and started screaming. I tried to yank her back inside, but it was too late. People woke up and even threatened to harm us.

"Lady! Are you drunk?! Get back into your house and quit shoutin'!" screamed a man.

She didn't move an inch. A man had been standing with a beer bottle in his hand. Mom ran up to him and grabbed the bottle.

"Listen up bitch! If you ain't gonna shut it, I'll blow your brains out of your head!"

I ran back to her and dragged her inside the house. I pushed her into the bathroom and switched on the shower to help her sober up. Instead, she fell to the ground. As I tried to help her get up, she overdosed and choked. I rushed to the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

I tried giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but it didn't work. Within moments an ambulance arrived to take her to the hospital, and we all climbed in. I cried so much that a nurse had to hold me steady at the hospital. This was the moment I truly felt all the pain hit me at once. Dad had deceived us, and Mom could not cope with the reality.

I couldn't blame her. We didn't know how to act or how to be around each other, and it felt like we were characters acting in a school play. What was left to believe when everything was a lie?

Upon reaching the hospital, a Caucasian man about five feet and eleven inches tall with black hair and blue eyes approached us.

"Hello, I am Dr. Alex Damon. Are you this lady's child?"

"Yes, I'm David."

"Are these kids your siblings?"

I nodded.

"We are doing our level best to revive your mother. Is there someone with you? Or are you alone?"

"It's just us."

"OK," he said as he turned to leave.

"Doc!" I cried as I grabbed his arm. "Please save her. She's our only hope."

"We will. Don't worry, son," he said, patting my back.

There was a chapel inside the hospital, and I walked in with Morgan and Casey. I knelt before God, which I had never done before. After a while Dr. Alex found us and ushered in the nurse to take Morgan and Casey into the play area. Turning towards me, he hugged me as I sobbed in his arms.

"She's OK now, it's all right ... it's gonna be OK," he assured me.

Although we had no health insurance or coverage, Dr. Alex did something remarkable: he sought special permission to waive the medical expenses. Honestly, that was probably the best news I'd heard since my dad's imprisonment. I couldn't believe it. It took a while to actually believe this, given everything that had happened up till now had been so awful. I had to ask him several times if my ears heard the truth.

"Yes! It's true, buddy!" he exclaimed.

For a moment, I stared at him, not saying a word.

"Everything OK?"

"Oh—nothing," I said, looking down. He called me "buddy," and only Dad called me that.

"I know what happened to you," he said as he sat beside me.

"Ohh," I said softly.

"I watched the news when I was in Louisiana on vacation to visit my niece."

"So, you did this because you wanted to empathize?"

"In a way, yes, but mainly because I couldn't turn my back on someone who'd been in a situation similar as to mine."

I turned to him in shock. Dr. Alex's family had immigrated from Italy. They didn't have the means to leave and make a life somewhere else. When he was ten, his uncle was convicted of sexually assaulting three girls. He never married, and his mom couldn't bear the humiliation and resorted to drugs.

The drug abuse worsened, and soon they were on the streets. Every door slammed shut in their face. His mom overdosed, and he couldn't find anyone to help them.

"I still remember trying to flag cars down the road to help us out. But no one stopped," he said softly.

"I'm sorry, Doc, I didn't know—"

"When I saw you in the hospital, crying for your mom, it made my heart melt because I saw a lot of me in you. I vowed to become a doctor because I wanted to help other families. It became my passion. Helping someone makes them feel good, just the way people helped me along my journey. I feel good too. It's the least we can do," he said, turning towards me. "I don't want you to face what I went through. I think it's best that your mom goes to rehab, and you and your siblings get into foster care. There's a federally funded rehab center called Maddox Rehab Center, and they're pretty good. Don't worry, she'll get sober."

"I hope so," I murmured.

"Alrighty ... I should be heading back to doing my rounds," he said, opening the door for both of us.

"Can I ask you one last question?"

"Sure."

"How did you do it?"

"What?"

"Become a doctor from literally living on the streets?"

"Neglect is one thing but fighting hard for what you want helps you overcome your fears. You forget about them. Life sure does challenge you, but it it's great when you challenge it back."

I nodded slowly with a faint smile as he stepped out of the room.

Mom was discharged a couple of days later. She couldn't remember anything that had happened. It was all a blur, which was a blessing in disguise. Dr. Alex signed a certificate stating that Mom wasn't healthy and mentally stable to take care of us and required rehab treatment to get sober. He took the day off and joined us in sending Mom off. I drove us to the rehab center. We were indeed a broken family with nobody to lean on or seek comfort in.

Saying goodbye to her at the center was the hardest thing ever. She refused to accept that she wasn't capable of supporting us anymore.

"Believe me! I'm fine! Nobody can love them the way I do!" she screamed as she was taken inside.

I stood motionless.

"She's gonna be fine. You'll all be a united family someday, I promise," he said, patting me.

I knew he was just trying to be nice, but in reality, he knew the truth just as I did.

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theangryhistoriananna · 4 years

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We have been fed 500 years of lies......but it’s not about Anne Boleyn

Also known as @bunniesandbeheadings did this to herself.

Jane Boleyn, usually referred to as Lady Rochford in most works that speak of her, will forever be regulated to the margins of history....and honestly that’s okay. She wasn’t a history maker like so many of her other female contemporaries-including her sister-in-law and niece....so most history books will (and do) overlook her and most works that do mention her are focused entirely on other people, and so the people writing these expose's don’t do very much Jane Boleyn specific research on her when they fit her into their works, be they fictional or not.

That in itself isn’t a bad thing. I don’t expect people to spend 5+ years on her specifically if they are working on a book about Anne Boleyn or the Reign of Henry VIII. A week or two (tops) of going over the times she cropped up in records and maybe fact checking statements made by other historians-including her only biographer to date- is really all that one would need to do to be able to fairly accurately sum up her role in the court of Henry VIII and it’s politics.

But being such a minor figure has a huge downside to it. And that’s when you’re actual story gets buried under an orchestrated smear campaign based entirely on unsupported rumors and gossip that has never been definitively proven or even convincingly proven that has gone on almost unchallenged for 500 years.

Of course Jane’s not the first, and certainly not the last, woman to suffer a smear campaign. It’s one of the world’s favorite past times after all. Anne Boleyn herself was the subject of an awful smear campaign.....and one that would continue well into the 17th and 18th centuries before finally being seriously called into question in the 19th century. But Anne Boleyn’s also always had her defenders-many of the English Protestants hailed her as a heroine and a martyr for their cause. And in the 19th Century she began to be painted not so much as an evil seductress but as a tragic, romantic heroine.

By now there is a great deal of information on Anne Boleyn, many do still paint her as a schemer and and an adulterer, driven by ambition and nothing else, but I’d argue since Eric Ives released his definitive and well researched biography on Anne Boleyn in the 1990s, and certainly since Natalie Dormer dazzled us all with her portrayal of the woman in the showtime hit “The Tudors”, most biographies of Anne have been overwhelmingly positive...or at least more nuanced and fair. The scheming and cold Anne seems to have mostly retired to the world of fiction, and even in that realm this portrayal’s popularity seems to be on the downturn with only a few books, such as Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall and Bring Up The Bodies, still choosing this Anne for literary reasons.

There is still of course plenty of myths and negative stories about Anne Boleyn, there always will be, but its easy enough for an interested individual to do the bare minimum amount of research into her and her life and have those myths dispelled....or at least seriously put into question.

The same cannot be said about Jane Boleyn unfortunately. But it’s hardly surprising......she’s no Anne Boleyn after all. On paper she’s nothing more than a footnote...nothing worth taking a real serious gander over. So people don’t.

They don’t bother to look at the facts even when they are staring them in the face. Because Jane doesn’t matter.

Right?

Except that Jane is more than a footnote on a page. She was a living and breathing person, and deserves to be presented as accurately as possible.

When it comes to Jane Boleyn two things are generally taken for as fact:

1) She was the informant who gave Cromwell and Henry the incest charges against Anne and George.

2) She hated the Boleyn family.

Would it surprise you to hear these two facts aren’t facts at all and are in fact just a theory that has almost no evidence to corroborate it?

I mean if you’ve followed me for more than .5 seconds...then probably no, it doesn’t surprise you. But the majority of people who have an interest in the Reign of Henry VIII, even many who are very knowledgeable on the time period, probably would be. Those statements are still taken as fact, and to say otherwise is somewhat controversial.

But the evidence simply doesn’t support either of these statements. No first hand or even second hand statements name Jane Boleyn as being an informant for Cromwell or Henry. In fact no one names her as being responsible for the incest charges at all. No one even ALLUDED to her in that respect. Only Chapuys mentioned Jane at all, not in regards to the incest charges, but apparently because Anne had told her sister-in-law that her husband, the king, couldn’t please a woman and suffered erectile dysfunction. The fact that Chapuys mentions this as having been revealed during George’s trial seems to suggest that George was either privy to his conversation himself or that Jane told him about it later.

Other than that. The records are mute about Jane when it comes to her involvement in the trials.

Her name wouldn’t even be brought up in connection to the incest charges till the reign of Elizabeth I, and by people who had no real evidence to base their claims on, just rumors, hearsay and “family stories”. It’s interesting that about the time Jane’s name started to crop up with these accusations, her family by birth, the Parkers, were in disgrace and exile.

And what about the second ‘fact’? Did Jane hate the Boleyn family?

Again, the evidence, as scarce as it is, seems to say no. That Jane Boleyn was an integral part of the Boleyn family, and was a favorite of Anne’s. Historians have always assigned the motive of jealousy for why Jane turned so viciously on the Boleyns, usually it’s been that she was jealous that George-her husband-clearly loved Anne more than he did her. Lately however it appears the motive, while still jealousy, has switched from “jealous over a man” to “jealous she wasn’t in the in crowd”. But this is....a strange statement to make. Because a quick glance at the records show Jane was VERY MUCH a part of the in crowd, arguably even more so than Mary Carey or Elizabeth Howard-Anne’s sister and mother. Jane was one of Anne’s foremost ladies. She was presented at Anne’s coronation march through London as one of England’s premiere ladies, riding in a spot of the highest honor, directly behind Anne herself, among the most powerful women in the country (including the Duchess of Richmond), far above what her station as a Viscountess entitled her. Neither Anne’s sister nor her mother were given the same honor.

But even before that it seemed Jane was and always would be very staunchly supportive of the Boleyn clan and their interests. She would leave Katherine of Aragon’s service shortly after Anne was recognized and would join her sister-in-law’s service, while other members of Anne’s family-chiefly her aunt the Duchess of Norfolk- would refuse to do so. She would later be one of the women Anne brought with her to France to be presented to Francis as the future Queen of England. Jane, alongside Mary among others, were hand picked by Anne herself to participate in a masque to impress the French king and his loftiest nobles. During Anne’s tenure as Queen Jane was a relatively powerful woman as sister-in-law to the queen. And while George or Anne could-have they truly not liked her-sent her away to wallow away in some country house ignored and forgotten-she never was. In fact she seemed to be rather welcomed, well liked and popular in Anne’s court. Certainly Anne trusted her, as on two occasions it was her sister in law she would turn to. I’ve already mentioned the damning secret she told Jane about Henry’s lack of sexual prowess. But we have another incident that Chapuys paints us about Jane and Anne. Interestingly this man, who is often erroneously used to prove Jane’s guilt, always painted Jane as being in league with the Boleyns, not against them. According to him, Jane and Anne plotted together to get rid of a woman who had caught Henry’s eye and had written friendly overtures to Henry’s daughter Mary. We don’t have details on this event, and there is even some doubt over whether it actually happened or not as no one else speaks of it, but according to Chapuys, the plan backfired on Anne and Jane and Jane was banished from court instead of the lady.

Whether it happened or not, it is important that Chapuys always presented Jane Boleyn as working with Anne and not against her.

All in all that Jane was jealous because she wasn’t one of the “cool kids” is even less plausible then “she was jealous that George loved Anne more than her” because the evidence is just so in our faces that this was not in the least bit true. Jane was very much one of the ‘cool kids’ of Anne’s court, and when Anne fell, Jane lost that.

But hey when the story isn’t about Jane Boleyn who bothers to fact check on her?

#Jane Boleyn #Jane Parker #Jane Rochford #Anne Boleyn #Boleyn Family #JPD #Anne's Rambling About Jane Again

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thetudorslovers · 4 years

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"There was room for only one woman in George Boleyn's heart: his sister, the mercurial and fascinating Anne Boleyn, who was destined to change history and wear a crown. To his adoring wife, Lady Jane Rochford, he was cold and indifferent. "- Brandy Purdy- "Vengeance is mine" or "The Boleyn wife"

This juicy book narrated by Jane Boleyn nee Parker is one of the first novels set in the Tudor era I've ever read. It tells the story of Anne Boleyn through the eyes of her sister in law, "jealous" on her tight bound with George,which led her in making the mistake of her life , -testifying against her husband and his friends and ruining the Boleyn name once and forever.

I re-read this more than 3 times and tbh I shall never ever get tired of this creative lanaguage,intriguing plot,good lines and complex characters hidden under a veil of lies and courage (such as Lady Rochford). I know many of you dislike her but ,underneath that "spiteful character " depicted in media ,lies a true human being,tormented by her thoughts and neglected by everyone around her. As many people say: love can change people and so the lack of it "

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courtneystapleton · 5 years

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Anne Boleyn was standing on the stage, alone, looking into the empty audience. She had wanted sometime by herself, before they begun getting ready for the performance that night. She didn’t need the practice- she had everything down pat, perfected. But she wanted to think.

“You know that I never did it, right?”

A voice came from the wings of the stage, before the stage manger stepped out of the shadows, allowing Anne to see her; her sister-in-law.

The queen turned her head away, though she doubted ignoring this problem would make it go away. When they had first come back, Anne wanted to know why she had died. Henry had loved her- he had waited so many years for her, how could be have done what he had? She was innocent of all the charges.

In her research she had found out about Jane Parker- the woman married to her brother, who should have stood by him to the grave- had told stories. Made up, disgusting, horrible things about Anne and George. About things that had never happened- things that disgusted Anne to her core.

And then Parker had come back.

She came back for Howard, how Maggie had come back for Anne. Served her right, Anne thought, coming back for the woman who got her beheaded.

It was the cruelness of fate- the death Jane Parker had condemned her husband and sister-in-law to was the same one by which she met her end.

“I know you think I did it. Katherine told me.”

Anne wanted to ignore the girl’s words.

“It’s all lies- I never-” her voice broke. “Your majest- Anne. Please, believe me.”

The brunette finally turned to the other woman. “Believe you? How could I, Parker?” Her words were filled with spitfire, with hatred and blame.

“He was my husband. Do you think I could have done that?” Her eyes were filling with tears, but she refused to look away from the queen. “Anne, you were my- my family. My queen.”

Anne scoffed, turning her head away.

“I never said those things. Please, believe me.” The once Viscountess Rochford was near begging.

“But you did. There’s proof.”

A cold laugh escaped from the back of Jane’s throat. “Proof? None of that is real. It’s all stories written years after our deaths. Do you think I could have done that, and gone to your father and fought for what was mine? That I would go back to court? To die for another woman placed in a situation so close to yours?”

Anne Boleyn crossed her arms.

“I would have rather gone to the scaffold than say such horrible lies, Anne.”

“But you did go to the scaffold.”

“Years later!”

“If it wasn’t you, then who was it Jane?”

“Henry, who else? Henry,Cromwell, take your pick! They wanted you gone. To replace you with the next, with someone who wouldn’t fight back. You know this Anne.”

The queen bit her lip, trying to keep the walls she had built around her up. “Someone had to have said something. To make him stop loving me.” Her voice wobbled, but she kept herself together.

“You know what he was like, Anne. You know who he was. None of us deserved what he did.” Jane’s hand reached to rub the back of her own neck- she had no memories from her execution, but sometimes, her mind would create scenarios in her sleep. “He was a tyrant.”

“He loved me.” Anne’s voice broke. “He loved me, Jane.”

“He loved the idea of you.” The stage manager stepped towards the queen, who looked to be on the verge of tears. “You don’t kill what you love, Anne.”

With those words, the brunette broke, and the dam holding the tears collapsed. “Someone- someone had to have done something!”

Jane rushed towards the girl, wrapping her sister by marriage in her arms. “He did it. We can’t blame anyone but him.”

Anne was shaking her head. “Please, just- he said he loved me. He married me. He made me queen.”

Jane nodded, holding her. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t love, Anne. Obsession maybe. A hunt. He wanted to capture and cage you, and you wouldn’t break. That’s what did it.”

#six the musical fanfic #six fanfiction #fanfic #idk #anne boleyn #jane parker

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wiltingboleyn-blog · 6 years

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☆ ━ ━ OUT OF THE WAY ! can’t you see MARGERY ( JANE ) BOLEYN, the VISCOUNTESS of ROCHFORD coming this way ? I hear SHE is WITTY, but also JEALOUS. SHE seems to remind everyone of CRUSHED ROSE PETALS, SCATTERED PEARLS, .&. FROZEN TEARS. hopefully one day SHE will succeed in HER ambition to HAVE A CHILD TO SOOTHE HER LONELY HEART, but then again, the court is a dangerous place. one can only hope SHE will keep HER head… ( JENNA COLEMAN ) ━ ━ ☆ as written by CHARLOTTE ;; GMT+1, SHE/HER, 24 .

- The Norfolk born daughter of Henry Parker, is based on Jane Boleyn. My hope is to humanise a villainised figure because I have only room for one manipulative woman in this rp...i’m looking at you Arabella.

- Margery was given a man’s education, which was partnered by her being appointed as a ladies maid to the beloved Queen Catherine. She learned many things and grew up with all of the expectations that a wealthy girl would have.

- As a ladies maid she grew up charming and well-liked, although she was never afraid of standing up for what she believed was hers. Her mother had always told her that expressing her satisfaction out in the open was not welcome, and that tears should only be for her pillow. And so, she had many episodes in her chambers when things upset her.

- All a woman could ever hope for was to be cared for and have many children. Love certainly had little to do with it. Entering into a marriage with George Boleyn was not something which she delighted in, nor detested. It was her duty and that was that.

- Margery wasn’t entirely sure what she expected out of her marriage to George Boleyn, but he was handsome and so was she. She would never have been invited to the Field of Cloth of Gold or the "Château Vert” masquerade, had she not been comely. It’s not that she was devastatingly unhappy, but it was hard not to feel alone.

- Her duty is to provide many children, although it has not been a successful endeavor. She still has hope that she’ll have a son in his father’s image, ( i’m looking at you george boleyn, dean of lichfield ).

- As a woman she has been forced to look past infidelity, but when rumours swirled around the court and the unsettling and all-consuming feeling of jealous and rage clutched her heart, she’d scream and scream into her pillows. Not caring if George walked in or not.

- On a final note, she is not some conspiring evil witch that completely detests her husband and wants to see him ruined ( thank you ‘the tudors’ ), she is complex and has human emotions. She’s sociable and funny, loves to be around other people and dotes upon children. But she does have her vices, like her jealousy and when she is in the safety of her own chambers, she’s intemperate.

- Also to note, she’s a wonderful dancer and loathes horse-riding.

#tudors.intro #just so random things about margery/jane

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lxdyrochford · 6 years

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☆ ━ ━ OUT OF THE WAY ! can’t you see JANE BOLEYN, the VISCOUNTESS OF ROCHFORD coming this way ? I hear SHE is WITTY, but also FRAGILE. SHE seems to remind everyone of ANXIOUS CONVERSATIONS, NOSTALGIC LAUGHTER, .&. WALLED GARDENS. hopefully one day SHE will succeed in HER ambition to BECOME A MOTHER but then again, the court is a dangerous place. one can only hope SHE will keep HER head… ( ALICIA VIKANDER ) ━ ━ ☆ as written by ELIZA ;; GMT, SHE/HER, 21 .

hi guys!! here’s my third muse, jane boleyn, born jane parker, wife of george, sister in law to anne and mary, and all round sweetie and hard-done-by, slightly mad babe.

jane tends to be painted by the broad brush of history as a villain, easily blamed for the deaths of anne and george (usually by catholic historians who didn’t want to admit that henry viii sent his wife to the block himself). there’s almost no evidence that jane took part in any accusations against her sister in law or husband, except in that she was interrogated by cromwell (as were all anne;s ladies) and was generally broken by the experience. also she never married again and wore black for the rest of her life!! noooo!!

she was later condemned and executed next to catherine howard, after aiding the young queen in her adultery. henry viii specifically changed the law regarding the execution of the ‘insane,’ as jane lost her mind while in the tower (or faked it, depending on your reading).

as for my jane, I write her as the following:

she’s the eldest daughter of many of baron morley, a wealthy norfolk landowner, and was raised in the countryside. she tended to fade into the background in childhood, despite being the eldest; she was neighbours to the boleyns, the wyatts, and some of the other norfolk nobility.

she’s a pretty fragile person, prone to hysterics and anxiety. she has generally appalling self-esteem and really deserves to be loved gently and sweetly, but unfortunately, she got married to george instead. I love ya george but you’re such a bad husband.

jane is funny and intelligent when she’s amongst company she’s comfortable with! she likes books, reading, and philosophy, writes quite a bit of poetry, and is generally sweet and lovable, but in situations of high stress she gets highly strung and a bit insufferable. she’s a hopeless romantic whose optimistic view of the world has been tarnished by the court and by what life has thrown at her.

her greatest regret is that she has never been able to get pregnant, despite being married for almost eleven years now.

#tudors.intro #( ursula | ooc )

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ananalog · 6 years

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Minnesota Private Radio, Two, 9.6.18

https://www.mixcloud.com/Ananalog/minnesota-private-radio-two-9618/

1. MF Doom (Mediavuelta remix), "Go With the Flow (12" version)", Operation: Doomsday, Foldle 'Em / Metal Face, 1999 / 2008 / 2018, USA

June haze remix of the original version of Doom's "Go With The Flow." I have the recording as collected on the 2008 Metal Face reissue of the oft reissued Operation: Doomsday. The 12" version is sparse and easier to remix than the album version. I ambiened verse, almost reducing it to rap soundz, but no disrespect is intended. Hopefully, you have a well worn issue of the album on your shelf.

2. Moses Taiwa Molelekwa, "Rapela", Genes and Spirits, M.E.L.T., 2000, South Africa

"Rapela" means pray in Zulu. Genes and Spirits is full of genius moments in which Molelekwa and company fused S.A. jazz, hip-hop, kwaito and electronica. All innovation duly credited, the two barely syncopated notes introducing the deceptively simple first theme of "Rapela" are my favorite part of the album. The joyful canon that follows, like one of Chick Corea's children's songs, is buoyed by the rest of the band and eases into a supercrisp, 21st century jazz take on the same melody, before snapping into a breathtaking, unified turnaround. All fusion aside, "Rapela" is beautiful because of very clever writing that the listener hears as organic.

3. Sons of Kemet, "My Queen is Ada Eastman", Your Queen Is A Reptile, Impulse!, 2018, U.K.

On Your Queen Is A Reptile, Shabaka Hutchings and Sons of Kemet raise up a fist to acknowledge the power of black women and lower a withering gaze at conventional British history - embodied by the queen - that declines to recognize the impact of black women on that history. Ada Eastman was Hutchings great-grandmother, his family's matriarch from Barbados.

Hutchings, Theon Cross (tuba) and Seb Rochford (drums) cook at a FAMU drumline temperature beneath Joshua Idehen's lines. "I'm born strong, the song of an immigrant / [...] I'll be here when your cities are sediment / and only your borders and fences are left / I'll be here when your banks stop selling debt / and all your leaders stop selling death / And you've lost all relevance."

This is the most Impulse!-y music Impulse! has released since Black Unity and Magic of Ju-ju, fifty or so years ago.

4. Donald Byrd, "Places and Spaces", Places and Spaces, Blue Note, 1975, USA

I'll admit that while I have about a dozen or so Byrd, Blackbyrd and Mizell brothers recordings from this era, and "Lansana's Priestess" played a key role in ramping my wedding reception song list from stun to kill, I had never heard Places and Spaces before a few months ago. I heard a clubby remix of the title track at a pizza place, recognized the sample from Pete Rock's "All The Places" (P.R. has sampled Mizell and Byrd more than a few times), recognized the trumpet as obviously Donald Byrd and the arrangements as so perfect they must be Mizell brothers, and tracked down the album that afternoon. I'm resisting the urge to gush too much about this record.

5. Blackrock, "Yeah Yeah", 7" single, Select-O-Hits, 1969, USA

This lone release from a group of Stax and Hi session musicians in Memphis is thunder that predates the first Funkadelic album by a few months. It's an odd and effective bit of song arranging, with the first, minor key section not serving an obvious role except to amplify the overjoyed, major key guitar solo you didn't realize was going to microwave your face a few seconds later.

6. MonoNeon, "Shooting For the Stars With My Laser Beam", I Don't Care Today (Angels and Demons in Lo-Fi), self release, 2018, USA

MonoNeon is the freek funkateer handle of Memphis bass virtuoso Dwayne Thomas Jr. I Don't Care Today is some clever shit, couching MonoNeon & friends' intimidating virtuosity and avante-garde experimentation on a futon of immediately approachable pyjama funk. Like the bedroom stoner, Sonic The Hedgehog funk that Thundercat rips but doesn't pull off quite as well because his music is too high fidelity. I just really like the guitar riff after the chorus.

7. Belair, "Samba For A Cold Warrior", Relax, You're Soaking It In, Belby Wetterman, 1980, USA

I have this recording from a Kev Beadle, Private Collection compilation. (Where does he find all of this not Brazilian, jazz samba?) The original seems to be small or private press on a microscopic label. I don't know much about this group. I presume guitarist Michael Belair is the leader. Broadly, "Samba For A Cold Warrior" fits a Kev Beadle presents comp well - small combo, small press, medium edge, mild Chick Corea-esque exotica. The big surprise is the vocal chorus that emerges from seven minutes of traded solos. "With the darkness dispelled by the radiance of day, the wiles of the wicked are driven away."

8. The Grodeck Whipperjenny, "Put Your Thing On Me", The Groedeck Whipperjenny, People, 1970, USA

You read that label correctly. James Brown's People label put this megaton psych rock shit out. Keyboardist Dave Matthews arranged for Brown and Brown released Matthew's project. The star of this album is guitarist Kenny Poole. Poole is a Cincinnati legend who went on to be better known for intricate finger picked sambas than for renal liquefying fuzz devastation. Great album.

9. M.C. Mell'o', "All Terrain M.C.s", Thoughts Released, Republic Records, 1990, U.K.

Rufff bounce from the godfather U.K. rapper isn't exactly as mell'o as jell'o. I won't pretend to analyze Mell'o' rhymes, because my London accent detection is not that sharp. You can tell it is ruff albeit smooth, though. Republic was house and disco master, Joey Negro's first label.

I love this era of beatmaking. Slamming rolands atop a funk break, every bass drum sample ever on the one, monosyllabic guitar and organ stabs interjected to fake a harmonic accompaniment, unintelligible vocal scratches, a chord change to keep it fresh, the strange piano interlude whose purpose isn't clear twenty five years later. Like Mell'o' would say, there is something "dusk to dawn, dawn to dusk, no fuss" about the beat. It would have lit a fire under my five year old self when it was released just as it does today.

10. La Mecanica Popular, "Part 4 (Visiones)", Roza Cruz, Names You Can Trust, 2018, USA

La Mecanica Popular, NYC psych salseros, push their newest release into the crawling, sinister realms of live/evil bitches Miles or Eddie Palmieri with his oxygen burning Rhodes turned to t h i c k. "Visiones" churns when the the synth bass, keys and electric guitar unite for the final head. I like that, at least for Roza Cruz, La Mecanica have shunned going somewhere for digging in and being somewhere.

11. Piero Umiliani, "Danza del fuoco", La ragazza dalla pelle di luna, Schema, 1972, Italy

Umiliani is a minor hero of mine. There is a perfect Umiliani track for every life experience. "Danza del fuoco" is a bonus recording not on the original Omicron soundtrack for La ragazza dalla pelle di luni, a 70s exploitation flick about a white European supermodel making out with a Seychellois supermodel or something similarly highbrow.

"Sdoganare" means to sanction or clear through customs. I just discovered the Schema has a Bandcamp page.

12. Leon Ware (ft. Minnie Riperton), "Instant Love", Musical Massage, Gordy, 1976, USA

The second syllable of Riperton's performance, the rising guitar note in between the verses (from either David Walker or Ray Parker), the Mizell-perfect orchestration, this song is so good. I don't know how Ware and company put together such a carefully controlled experience that is dripping with truth and soul. Maybe it is what happens when you task a room full of master craftsmen each with a small task. Parker and Walker's guitar tones on this album have haunted me. I'll accept advice on ringing that bell.

13. Sinn Sisamouth, unknown recording, Cambodian Soul Sounds, Vol. II, Cambodian Soul

Sounds, early 1970s, Cambodia

Sisamouth was a hugely popular and influential figure in Cambodian popular music for decades before his disappearance and death at the hand of the Khmer Rouge. He songs are still re-recorded today. Intellectual property debates regarding the music of Sisamouth and his contemporaries continue to the present, as while the music remains beloved, the Khmer Rouge sought to erase the careers, legacies and lives of many of the musicians who made it. The first Cambodian intellectual copyright law was passed in 2003, but bootlegs are commonly traded and the Cambodian state lays claim to Sisamouth's compositions as property of the Ministry of Culture. Richard Rossa, the Swedish DJ behind the compilations donates sales from both volumes of Cambodian Soul Sounds to charities that support Cambodian youth and the preservation of Cambodian cultural history in an effort to square the fact that the recordings were unlicensed, or possibly un-licensable in the traditional sense.

- RS, 9/6/18

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