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pear-pies · 4 years

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音像世界 [Audiovisual World] - Sept 2006

a very wonky but delightful translation under the cut

Placebo ; We are the 21st century modern rock band Text/Interview with Zhang Weiwei/Xingyue

On the first day of "2006 Beijing Pop Music Festival", "Placebo" Perform on the main stage of the company. "Placebo" is hailed as "the most Record the distinctive British music yin", this is their first time on the Chinese stage. Long talk will undoubtedly be a feast for listening to you. Mission to the last century In 1996, one named Brian Moco )lkO) boy,’ painted Seven eyes Liangying, leaving pitch black Childish behavior: ‘The violent red color I'm learning girls like a demon Sing a song "Nancy Kid" When I vent without hesitation Stupid material life and The emotion brought by the ft world. From the moment on stage, cloth Who is the backlog in my heart Thrown in front of the world, lead Shoulder, reputation, obsession and even People band one by one "placebo" Horribly turned out, "(Radiohead)s" "'Oasis" (Oasis) Three The altar adds a stunning Household Don't one by one Lane was born into a wealthy Bank entrepreneur, mother Christianity. Childhood, Tossed in Scotland, Libby Between Schlossburg. Serious , And moved countless times Dogs have no fixed partners in childhood Jidu is lonely, even learning

The classmates and teachers in the school are also particularly alienated, plus , My parents ignored because of busy banking , The physical and psychological growth of his son, Bryan from 11 I have been learning from the streets, newspapers and magazines since I was Factory women give themselves makeup and always like to surround Women go round and round. When he was 16 years old, his parents gave him a copy Telecaster guitar, very sensitive to music Brian soon bought a real price A real guitar, and I've been obsessed with playing guitar ever since, So that everyone can often see it on stage Brian gently hugged the guitar one by one He plays the role of a mother in his life Important role. But in fact, Bryan’s parents Straightforwardly oppose him to engage in art-father- I want to let Brian inherit his career and become a Bankers one by one Blaine began to use gender boundaries Vaguely neutral dress to resist father and family Against pressure. Until the end, Brian and his father There is no longer any contact or exchange. In 1990, 18-year-old Brian left the family. Came to London alone and entered Gold Smiths Academy of Art and Drama Studies (British The prestigious Royal Academy of Art, "Blur" Former guitarist Graham Coxon Coxon) also graduated from the college J. Cloth at this time Ryan has been able to skillfully play a variety of instruments such as Ji Him, keyboard, bass, drums, saxophone, and even DJing, He also worked as a DJ in several clubs, but he was honest Say that I am not very good at being a DJ0 By chance in 1994, Brian Kensington subway station encountered a later career ride Stefan Olsdal,} Invite him to form a band with himself and join in one, Club performance. Osdo listened to Brian Immediately after the song was attracted, not only that, he , Put his Swedish friend Robert Schutz (Robert Schultzberg) pulls into the music Be a drummer (until 1996). Until later , Bryan also emphasized that Osdo accepted his The moment I invited to the band was my whole life E one of the unforgettable moments. During this period, Bligh En called the band "Ashtray Heart" (Ashtray Heart) Heart)0 After quickly gaining awareness, they The band was renamed "placebo". Soon, Caroline Records has recognized this and A different young band. In 1996, Robert Schutzberger The conflict with Brian increased and left the band, from Therefore, the position of the drummer has always been Steve Huey 特 (Steve Hewitt) instead. In the same year, the band The first album of the same name "Placebo" (Placebo) released Row. Singles "Nancy Kid" and "Young Rage" (Teertage Angst) immediately became a hit single, The stubborn and rebellious children of the entire Yao British Empire Was boosted by this three-person band, "placebo" It seems that they have been able to relieve their psychological barriers A great pill for manic heart. Just as Brian is different from Ordinary costumes-mascara, eyeshadow, full lips, ～ Nail polish, skirts, this series will only show up The characteristics of a woman’s body are now affected by a height,The British man who is less than 1.75 meters boldly and naturally used to dress himself up. The British media took advantage of the trend and gave him the title of "fashionable Bowie". "Media reporters like to make boo heads. Maybe it's because life in the UK has always been so dull and boring. That's why they were surprised when they met me and yelled. I like "Sonic Youth" and "Sonic Youth". "Pixies", I prefer to dress myself up as I want to appear on the stage, in the MV and even in life. I just enjoy such an open-self lifestyle." Brian shrugged and said softly. In a tedious and lengthy interview after a TV show performance, Brian deliberately pointed the guard ｝l to the male reporter’s chest, so that the reporter was tossed by the sly Brian that he had no intention of continuing the interview. Go on, while Hewitt and Stephen are laughing together. After the album of the same name was released, the band easily got the mainstream record company Virgin In November 1998, he quickly recorded and released the second album "No "Without You I'm Nothing". This album has a rare change in the depth of the lyrics and Brian’s vocals compared to the first album. Brian in "Pure Morning" lowered his throat and reluctantly sang "Send charcoal in the snow." "A Friend in Need A Friend Indeed" (A Friend in Need A Friend Indeed). A famous sentence like household. Bryan, dressed in black, jumped out of the building and walked straight down the wall. The MV for this song was also planned by Bryan. A keen listener can find from this Xin album that the alcohol, drugs, and erosive relationships in "Nancy Kid" have changed to the mixed emotions and emotions toward urban men and women in "Every You Every Me".

The rhetoric of the low-level media is more intense. Every large-scale live performance, "placebo" In order to pursue the perfect sound effect comparable to the recording studio, Always bring fixed musicians with them Stage performance, and these fixed musicians also accompanied Placement has gone through a worthy 10 years. Although But on the stage they always hide without light In the dark, but they are the same as the "placebo" three The relationship between the members is like a formal team member. Observant Fans will also find that "Velvet Gold Mine" These regular musicians also participated. And "Ann Placement" "Believe in Me" held in Paris (Soulmates Never Die) large concert now The DVD and MV compilation are everybody’s Placement" a precious treasure that loyal fans must collect, The Paris concert not only included the "placebo" essence Cham’s hot live performance also hides a 30 Minute tour documentary, including how the three escaped Avoid the chase of fans and talk about the fun in the lounge Bryan teaches you how to draw eyeshadow and sightseeing Precious fragments of time crazy Stefan. "Placebo" will play an electrified style The ultimate is the new album released this year Meds; compile the album cover with "Sleep with the Elves"

It’s exactly the same, it seems to come from the same designer hand. As Brian said, in the past 10 years he’ We work hard to find a position and style that suits us, Looking for an invisible limit. Bryan and Le The team has been trying to get out of this restriction, out of them Have experienced, followed, intoxicated, avoided A sensitive area that has been and moved by. Although cloth Leith now has a child named Cody Zihe ~ a touching wife who maintains a stable relationship with him One by one wife, son, and teammates are all Bligh En is deeply loved one by one, but Brian is uneasy in his blood The molecules make him feel full of emotion and sensitive heart The world has never changed. Now the "placebo" starts Putting aside some long-standing conventions, in the new album Significantly reduced the iconic guitar distortion, the band Focus boldly with a more fashionable electrified style With drugs, alcohol, and love, it’s like a giant record jacket The naked, twisted, and shouting woman, "Ann The placebo" bravely broke free from the past System", more calmly standing in the British rock music front.The growth of the Bone Association Band? I am very happy with the growth of the band. Our growth and success are all through long-term hardship...Shan:1 Linde. It’s been an almost uninterrupted tour for 10 years. This is a relatively old-fashioned way of running Cantonese. "(The tail is also what we like very much. The live performance of the mountain and the constant currency" requires that you can get yourself in it. In the early days of the band’s establishment, we had already decided to deliver the music to our listeners in the most direct way. What do you think of the development of Yaoi’i Gun Music? "Lonz Ferdinand" (1,s,i Pordinand), "Arctic Monkeys" (Arctic Monkeys). "The Kooki"; do you think they really have "material"? Just because they are from the same island does not mean they are anointing Le Buya! What is in common. Of course "Franz Ferdinand" and "Arctic Monkey" must be influenced by the music of IJ Moji {Fei, in my heart! Bu! . He is a very good band in J1IJ4 II. Especially the L tail, "Arctic Monkey r", their "material" lies in the quality of their Shule creations. They are very humorous, full of the strong vitality of the factory, modern city, and very British creative style. What they are telling Very interesting, but also very "human", very A true story is a very realistic expression Present form. I think if the "street boy" (The Streets) is a rock band, they ' It will be the "Arctic Monkey". I personally have always been very happy Happy "Franz Ferdinand", from their first An album begins. They are from Scotland and also It brings another kind of cultural experience. What I want to say is that although there are so many Success bands are all from the UK, but they don’t Not necessarily have something in common, nor is it necessarily It means that rock music in the UK will be more Good or worse. Good is good, bad is good Is bad, there is no need to divide by region Standards. What kind of concept do you hold on creation? We are a rock band, just like I We are a modern rock music team. We enjoy using various tools and equipment The possibility of creating music. Rock music is not only It’s a simple guitar with electronic elements Not only can be used in a certain kind of special music In the category. The key to its function depends on you How to use it and how to integrate it better In your own music category. Was the grunge trend in the U.S. Has any influence on you or a British band? You like Is Grunge Fun? I never really liked it Grunge, I have never heard of "Nirvana" (Nirvana) Music until Kurt Coben (Kurt Cobain) passed away. For me, "nirvana" Too mainstream T0 I am more interested in those very Alternative bands, like "Sonic Youth" (Sonic Youth), or the late 70s, 80s Post-punk band in the early years. What do you think of as a British band American culture? We ourselves think that "placebo" is a European bands. Of course we were founded in London. Half of my blood is Scottish, history of drummer The name "Friend (Steve Hewitt) is of British descent, Stefan Olsdal is a Swedish. We Speaks many languages, Stephen speaks 5 languages, I speak French and English. We grew up in Europe There are K people from the I1 family in Zhou, we see ourselves as Europeans, I don’t think I have any special UK Pity. We can, will historically and geographically The music of the country and the era is biased. Ok Meeting the music and blood should be interpreted, and it is truly I found it at Ill lii.} I don’t care if the music comes from Which country, as long as it can move people. but I I want to say: "I'm very happy that I will be in Europe Life". Countless tours and publicity all over the world make people Enjoy it? I enjoy the tour, but not the publicity. But it is equally important. In the past 10 years, We have been through live performances all over the world Accumulated a group of very loyal and sincere fans. Every year, the number of our fans grows very much View. Although it takes a lot of time to do this, it also gives me We added a lot of fun. You know there are many "placebos" in China Fans? They are very obsessed with "placebo" The violent distortion guitar and your charming voice, even Even when playing the piano is hot, many fans want to know the invitation, What do you think of your fans. Ah, haha, of course I hope so. "I must wait until Ij comes to Beijing in September to learn about Chinese musicWhat a fan is like, I look forward to it very much. It’s not just heterosexual people. Placement", many gays also like you We, what do you think is the reason that makes "Ann Does "Placement" attract different fascinating groups? Great! I think this is great! I think For our honesty in emotions and the truth in life Desire to communicate, um, if our music can move people, it must be physically,There are three aspects, both mentally and emotionally. You are now a father What kind of impact? The kind of perplexed and perverted Dong Is Xijijing completely far away from you? Honestly, no. As for myself Those who are confused and perverse, maybe less A little bit. But now there is another person Let me care, need my protection, so that it will not be this Hurt by a huge bad world. You have always loved to dress up, you still Do you love applying black nail polish to yourself? I have not bought black nail polish for many years Yes, but I still paint eyeliner and eye shadow. I do Did not try to do anything special through these performances Communication, in addition to thinking that people should dress up, Freedom in dress, choice and preference, not affected by Constrained by any established standard. If hard If any message is conveyed, it is freedom. But I do this entirely because I like it, I think I look great like that, like a The mentality of a lady with makeup. How do you think a man should make his evening watch more cultured and tasteful? I think in the 21st century, men should be free, Wear what they like and dress up like they like Huan look. In comparison, women are more They can wear skirts or they can wear Pants, they can make up or not, They can look bright and beautiful, or they can watch Go up and take control. In the 20th century, men’s The choice has become so small. Looking back, Louis France in the fourteenth period, and the restoration period In Great Britain, men used to love makeup that much, Their clothes are so gorgeous and they look so good elegant. So we just trace the roots in history. The media will use it when evaluating "placebo" Keep your eyes on such things as "male and female", "gorgeous", ) If you have to symbolize, how can you give yourself Has it been defined and classified? A modern rock band. A 21 The modern rock band of the century. Let me show you and all Some magazine readers confirmed that "placebo" is not Hermaphrodite, the "placebo" members are all men, Everyone is.

In addition to work, the three of you often Play together? The three of us spend time together Family and love have more time. So when we After we got home, we gave all the time Family material lover, ha ha. Can you chat online? No, it never happened. I know net Some people on the network will call themselves Brian Mok, Husband ,,’’No~1 million That would definitely not be me. If you are online I met someone like that and I visited Brian Mo But my blog or Myspace, I read my Diary, you have to believe that it is definitely a lie. I Will not publish their life information on the Internet, I am a privacy-conscious person. What's the story of the performance in China this time ? What are your expectations for the Chinese record market What? Just like going to Thailand and Korea, through hosting Party’s invitation, we’ll come and we know people We like our music, so we can play for them We are also very happy to play. As for the record market, I Really have no idea. I just look forward to acting I hope to bring an outstanding performance. Please describe you in one word or sentence " 3 people. Just one sentence. Have you seen "Starship Fans Is this TV show "Star Trek"? Oh, your country may not broadcast it. Stephen It's "Mr. Spock" (Mr. Spock) It’s ‘Dr. McCoy’ and I’m "K Captain Kirk" (Captain Kirk)

#gonna post sappy nostalgic stuff for my bday lol #sly brian did what to the journalist...#👀#sleep with the elves.... please tell me thats the official chinese album title!#literally the most expensive thing i bought in china lol #placebo #brian molko #steve hewitt #stefan olsdal

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imbellarosa · 4 years

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The Larry Song by Van McMann

Or, that one time you accidentally wrote your best friend and bandmate a love song about being on tour without him and he tweets about it confirming it. This review is especially dedicated to @dalek-in-heels because she had to hear me talking about how I’ve been listening to this song FOR DAYS and wanted to talk about it. Oooh oooh and also to @belgianreader2 because we actually are 7 hours apart and although I’m not writing her love songs just yet, this song always makes me laugh bc I think of her. It is, as always, all under the cut because i have A LOT of words and don’t want to clog anyone’s timeline.

SIDE NOTE: I’ll be back to political content in the morning, I just need to post something for myself right now. If you’re looking for a way to get involved tonight, The Rolling Stone actually compiled a great list here. If you match my donation from earlier today or a donation that I made last week, let me know and I will write a prompt for you, if you’d like it.

Okay, onto the song. The first thing I should clarify is that the song is not actually called Larry - it’s called 7 and its by a rock band (a british rock band? maybe?) called Catfish and the Bottlemen. I’m not actually lying when I say it’s by Van McMann, though, because that’s the lead singer, and sole writer of this song. I call it the Larry song in my head because the first line of the song is “Larry call a load of smoke in/I want to lose a couple days/I know we never struggled coping/but I never want to.”

I know that it’s about a dude named Larry for a couple of reasons: the first is that it’s literally in the song. So. There’s that. The second is that both Van and Larry confirmed it. Larry Lau is Van McMann’s best friend and the guitar technician for the band. Van confirmed it here in an interview for Radio X in the UK, and Larry Lau tweeted on April 19th, 2016: “Ahahah funny as when your best mate puts you in a tune then it goes all over the radio #lotofshoutouts” (the tweet also had a bunch of emojis that didn’t copy paste well, but they are: a phone - you’ll see why later - a cloudy sky, an alien, and the number 7).

The thing is - this song is called 7 because of the timezone difference. And here lies the actual story. This song is about their relationship while Van is on tour. (I have to assume it’s their relationship because his name is the only name-drop in the whole song. The only other name-drop in the album is the song “Emily”, which seems to be about meeting up to catch up with an old flame in a pretty sweet goodbye song. Yes. I listened to the album, debated if I wanted to do a review, and decided that actually, I liked this song the best and wanted to focus on it. Sue me.). ANYWAYS. He talks about how: And I'd beg you, but you know I'm never home/And I'd love you, but I need another year alone/And I've tried to ignore it every time you phone/But I never come close/And I don't think through things, I never get time/'Cause I don't think things through...”

So that’s where the phone comes in haha! I also think that it’s really interesting how he talks about this relationship: just because he’s in love does not mean that he’s about to postpone his tour (his career, his life) for this relationship. And I know that some people might think that this means it’s not a good one or that it’s a sad song but...I actually think it’s very healthy? I mean, in the context of the album definitely, but we’ll go through some thematic stuff in a bit.

However, even as a standalone song, I think this is a very healthy attitude for a dude in his 20s to have. Or even a dude at the beginning of his career, no matter their age. Like. This is your chance man, so good for you for taking that. If your relationship is meant to be, it can survive a time difference and different ambitions and everything else that you have to do to grow and find yourself. Even if you need the year alone to do so.

On to the themes that I like in this song that are reoccurring throughout the album! The smoke thing. People speculate that “call a load of smoke in” means “let’s go smoke” (there’s also speculation that it means “throw a smoke bomb on stage, but in context of everything else, I don’t really think so?). I like the reading that “call a load of smoke in/I want to lose a couple days” means - let’s go do our thing, I want to spend the next few days doing nothing together. The smoking thing comes back in the song “Anything” - also written by Van - where he says, “ I won't smoke if you don't no more/'Cause I know you hate the taste of it/And I don't wanna picture our first born/If you've stopped discussing names with me/But if it means that we get through then you know I'm up for anything”, and in his song “Soundcheck”, he mentions that he’s rushing through rehearsal to meet up for a cigarette break (which, if that song is also about Larry, it would make sense? because they would be working together? and so they could have a smoke break together).

Let’s discuss: I think that it would make sense that this is both an activity they do together, and a habit that they try to break, depending on how their relationship is going. For example, if they’re doing great, and they can’t stay away from each other, then it’s “call a load of smoke in” or “let’s go meet during your break” (that’s not the lyric, sorry haha). But if their relationship is going sour, then it’s “do you need me to stop smoking? what can i do?”. And I think that’s a very normal reaction for a twenty-something-year-old person to have? It smacks of obsession and insecurity and love. You want to be with them at every moment, even though you know you can’t be. You understand that you have to do your thing, but you’ll do it a bit faster if you get to have a couple of moments with them, and if things are going not so great, then, well, you start obsessively reflecting on what you think you might need to change about yourself.

Another theme that keeps popping up in the album is thinking things through. Like, Van is clearly an impulsive person. He says here “I don’t think through things, I never get time”, and he says in the song “Twice”: “ 'Cause when you love the way you’re living/It's just hard to fret about much/Because if I got time I just regret most of it”, and then he goes on to list a bunch of mistakes he made. Hey, at least he’s self-aware, you know? I don’t really think this is significant to the story of the song other than it gives a bit of context to the person writing it. I also don’t really know anything about either of these guys personally, other than the interviews and such that I’ve found, so if i’ve just messed something up massively, please let me know haha.

ANYWAYS - to close! This song also includes gems like “I know we (Larry and Van) never struggled sleeping/But I never want to..”. Which like, ah, yes, I too tell my completely platonic bro and bandmate that I never want to struggle sleeping with them! Of course! Happens ALL THE TIME.

Nah, but really. It’s a great song in a pretty good album (the other songs I referenced are “Anything”, “Twice”, “Emily”, and “Soundcheck”, all of which I really enjoyed. I also liked “Postponed”, but be warned - that’s a sad song pretending to be a happy one). I searched, but I couldn’t find a relationship history for either Van or Larry, and apparently, they’ve been friends since childhood, and I think I’ve read this story once or twice. Or maybe seen the movie? So that’s what I have to say about that.

My final thought is that I would have paid an indescribable amount of money to see the rest of the band listen to the song the first time around. Like. Imagine the glances that the rest of them shared like ... “uh... who’s going to tell him this is a love song?”. I would also LOVE to watch this song get performed live because I think that would also be remarkably telling, and also because it would make me giggle uncontrollably.

This song comes from an album called “The Ride”, and it’s followed by an album called “The Balance”, which I haven’t finished, but is also pretty ok. Anyways I need a ship name for these two so if anyone has one I really want to hear it. Is Lan cooler or Varry? Or Vanry? or McMau if we’re doing last names. Actually, McMau seems pretty cool.

#7 #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #larry lau #song recs #and album recs #i say things #seriously if i tag varry is that a thing?#like i dont think im ever gonna talk about these two again #but this is the funniest thing #ive heard in a while #like oops i wrote you a love song #and the other dude is like MINE THE SONG IS MINE ITS FOR ME #in case anyone was gonna get it twisted

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gwenbrightly · 4 years

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Redwall Falls: Chapter 1

@faceheightknifefight and I were talking and it somehow turned into a discussion about Brome as a paranormal investigator, which spiralled into me writing the Gravity Falls Redwall au no one else asked for. Please enjoy my attempt at being creative. (the first part is a little on the short side, but the rest should be longer. You know, when I write them)

“You’re sending us away. For the entire summer?” Brome repeated. School had only been out for a few days and his parents were already ruining his life again. It wasn’t fair.

“Seasons, Brome. You make it sound like it’s the end of the world. It’s just for a few months so your father can work on his re-election campaign without the two of you getting under foot. You’ll be back in Noonvale before you know it. And besides,” his mother stared pointedly at the controller he was clinging to like a lifeline, “you need to get out more. Who knows? You might even make a few friends.”

Rose glanced up from her book and winced (probably because it was such a low blow). It wasn’t that Brome hadn’t tried to make friends in the past. Other beasts just… weren’t interested in his hobbies. They usually found his obsession with the supernatural either perfect ammunition for relentless teasing or just plain kooky.

“I… I don’t believe it.” Brome muttered indignantly. He’d thought better of denying his lack of social life. It was a losing battle. Why were parents always like this?

“Your great aunt Polly has been asking if the two of you could come visit her for years. I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I didn’t think you could handle it.” Aryah pointed out.

“She’s not even really related to us. What if she makes us sleep outside? What if she has a secret evil twin no one knows about? Or worse. What if she doesn’t have wifi?!” he protested, anything but convinced by his mother’s attempts to reassure him. She raised an eyebrow, in an unspoken really?

“She’s your father’s godmother. I think we’d know by now if she had a twin. And she owns a tourist trap, so I’m sure wifi won’t be an issue.” she told him with as much patience as she could muster. Having given up on reasoning with his mother, Brome turned to Rose (who was taking this whole thing remarkably well) and asked, “You’re really okay with this?”

“I don’t know, it sounds kinda fun. And there are worse places to spend a summer.” she replied with a shrug. Brome nodded sagely. She did pose a fair point. He could think of at least 10 places that would be worse than Gravity Falls, even if Great Aunt Polly turned out to have a double life.

“Dance camp?” Asked Brome knowingly.

“Dance camp.” Rose confirmed with a shudder.

“Noted,” he allowed, “but weren’t you saying you wanted an epic summer romance this year? What about that?”

“Well I-yes, I did say that, but I don’t see why that couldn’t happen just as easily in Gravity Falls.” she told him. Darn. Brome was rapidly running out of valid counter arguments.

“But what about…” he wracked his brains for something, anything, good enough to convince his family this was a bad idea. He couldn’t.

“Please don’t take this up with your father, Brome. You know how it’ll end. Just… try not to ruin this for yourself by freaking out over it before you even get there, okay? I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.” Aryah said eventually. Brome and Uran Voh were often at odds and their fights almost always turned into yelling matches. Combined with the young mouse’s tendency to over analyze everything, she was probably justified in her concern.

“I’m not freaking out, mom. I just like being prepared for the worst.” Brome replied honestly as he slipped off the couch. He switched off his video game and fled up the stairs to his bedroom. He flung the door shut and hid under his bed where no one would find him. Stupid parents, stupid Gravity Falls, stupid everything. This was going to be the worst summer ever.

////

The bus pulled to a stop. Rose put a bookmark in her copy of Love Amongst the Badgers and glanced over at Brome. He was still sound asleep, undisturbed by the screeching of the brakes.

“Brome.” the mousemaid nudged her brother. He didn’t wake up.

“Brome,” she repeated, louder, “we’re here.”

Still nothing. She tried again, louder this time.

“If you don’t wake up right now, I’ll leave you on this bus for an ax murderer to find.”

“You wouldn’t!” Brome protested, finally reacting. Rose only smiled.

“I don’t know… you have been pretty obnoxious lately…” she pointed out with a shrug.

“I-I’ll be good! I promise!” the young mouse insisted, trying to look innocent. Rose pretended to consider this for a moment before replying.

“Okay. Works for me! Now hurry up and grab your stuff so we can go find out if Great Aunt Polly really is a were-mole – secret agent – alien with a dark secret.” she said, shouldering her backpack and pulling her suitcase out from under her seat. Brome rolled his eyes.

“I never said… you know what? I will do that. But not because I want to see if she’s got a third eye, or anything like that.” he stubbornly relented. He followed her example and gathered his belongings (and a few candy wrappers).

“Of course not,” Rose agreed as she surveyed their seats to make sure nothing got left behind. When she was satisfied, she made for the bus’s exit, Brome in tow.

It took exactly five seconds to locate their great aunt. Dressed in a brightly colored sundress and fez, she would have been hard to miss. Even her cane, which appeared to have a magic 8 ball attached to it, was anything but subtle.

“Who still wears fezzes these days?” Brome asked under his breath. Clearly he didn’t appreciate the elderly mole’s sense of fashion.

“Brome!” Rose hissed, not wanting to make a bad first impression on their host for the summer. Great Aunt Polly grinned and waved them over, oblivious to the siblings’ conversation.

“Hiya, kids! Welcome to Gravity Falls. A completely normal town, where nothing out of the ordinary happens. Ever. Nice to meetcha!” she greeted, shaking their paws enthusiastically. Rose was caught a little off guard by this description of Gravity Falls, but she tried to ignore it.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Great Aunt Polly. Right, Brome?” she said brightly, elbowing her brother in the ribs.

“Uh, yeah. I, um… like your cane?” Brome jumped in, forcing himself to stop staring at her bizarre ensemble.

“Thanks, kid! All a part of Madam Mystery’s charm!” Polly told him with a wink. Rose raised an eyebrow.

“Madam Mystery?”

“My stage name over at the Shack,” the mole explained, “Your father did tell you about the Mystery Shack… right?”

“Not… not really…” Brome began.

“We know he used to spend every summer here and that it’s a pretty major tourist trap, but he’s usual too busy with his duties as town mayor to tell us much else about his childhood.” Rose finished for him. Her heart sank a little as she watched Great Aunt Polly’s face fall at this news. She hadn’t meant to upset her. But if she’d let Brome continue, the truth would have come out far more harshly.

“Oh. That boy… I guess you’ll just have to see for yourselves. Come on, you two, might as well get going.” Polly told them after a moment.

“Sure. Which way to your car?” asked Rose, trying to distract the mole from her obvious disappointment. She was curious to see where they would be staying, anyway. Polly nodded towards a rather beat up looking station wagon parked haphazardly between a pair of minivans.

“Right over there.”

The two siblings glanced at each other with mirrored looks of horror at the sight of the vehicle. It had quite a few dents in it along with a cracked window. And… was that a bullet hole? For a split second, Rose considered asking the bus driver if he would drive them to the Mystery Shack. Or maybe even all the way back to Noonvale. However, she was pretty sure he’d refuse, and if Great Aunt Polly had managed to make it all the way to the bus stop without dying, then they could probably survive the ride back. Hopefully.

“Are you sure this thing is safe, Great Aunt Polly?” Brome demanded, giving the station wagon a suspicious glare. He'd never been one for risk taking unless it was to spite their father.

“Course it is! Haven’t gotten pulled over by the cops in weeks.” Polly informed him. She popped open the trunk so they could load their things into it. Brome stared at her with the are you kidding me? look Rose knew all too well. It was the same look he gave their father whenever they argued.

“You mean you’ve actually been pulled over?” he wanted to know before getting in. Polly shrugged.

“Well… maybe once or twice.” she admitted conspiratorially. The young mouse stared at her in awe.

“Woah! I can’t believe dad is letting us anywhere near you.” Brome said with a grin. It appeared the eccentric mole had finally won her brother over. Shaking off the last of her reluctance, Rose climbed into the station wagon and sat next to him. It was going to be an interesting ride.

“First thing’s first,” Polly declared as she pulled out of her parking spot, narrowly missing a group of squirrels who were out for their afternoon jog, “we gotta come up with something less formal sounding than Great Aunt Polly. I’m gettin tired of it already.”

#redwall #redwall fanfiction #redwall au #gravity falls #i have no idea what I'm doing #hopefully you find this entertaining folks

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everythingthatdidntfitelsewhere · 5 years

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In regards to Kat...

Euphoria, at it's core, is about addiction (hence the title), and addiction to drugs is only one facet of that.

Addiction: continuously engaging in a behavior or activity for the sake of obtaining pleasure or some sort of value despite negative consequences

I can't find the quote or I would put it in here and source it, but someone once said that us drug addicts are sometimes the lucky ones, because our lives get so obviously unmanageable, we engage in behaviors so outright risky and SOCIALLY FROWNED UPON that a lot of us figure out we're addicts at some point. Much of the population isn't so lucky. Everyone is addicted to something. Many go around engaging in more accepted, slower progressing, or subtly consequential addictive behavior that damages them just the same.

Here's the thing, I didn’t sit around idly chit chatting about the fire dope I got the day before to just anyone like my friend talks about his fourth Tinder date in as many days. People never patted me on the back for how strung out I looked like they did when my friend with bulimia started losing weight. We are introduced to Rue in Euphoria as the OBVIOUS addict like I was. Getting high. It's what she does. When experiencing emotions she doesn't wish to, she uses it to numb. When happy, she uses it to celebrate. When bored, she uses it to entertain herself. When she doesn't want to use, she uses. When it negatively impacts her relationships, her life as a whole, she continues to use. Through denial, she can ignore the severity, even at times asserting she's happy. The thing is, Rue isn't the only addict on this show. Here's how the other characters present as addicts, albeit in a much more insidious fashion.

Although maybe in an earlier stage with physical encounters compared to characters like Jules and Cal, Kat sees Ethan talking to the girl at the carnival and feels rejected. Rejection has been shown to be a massive theme in Kat's story. Where once she used to turn to the community she found online via fanfiction for a sense of acceptance to quell the sense of alienation/insecurity she experiences in her real life, she then progresses to underage camming when a video is posted online without her conesnt (drawn to the comments not all that different from those she once associated with her fanfics), and now she immediatly sets her eyes on sleeping with another man at the carnival. By doing so, she regains a sense of control, power, and receives that validation. In her third physical encounter, she ignores a distraught Maddy in favor of giving another adult stranger a blow job (or more accurately experiencing that sense of power and control again) despite being shown earlier in the series to be a friend people confide in. Does that behavior look familiar, maybe like when Lexi tries to reach out to Rue, a lifelong friend, and Rue brushes her off for inconviencing her drug use? It goes without saying that getting into these encounters with random, adult men is risky behavior, but how much different is that from Rue ingesting a substance of unknown origin?

As another example in this series, Maddy receives a sense of stability from her relationship with Nate after growing up in a troubled environment and seeing how much more Nate appears to offer her in comparison to what her father does for her mother. Despite Nate's abusive behavior, how much he hurts her, she continuously goes back. She'll love him no matter what he does to her per Rue's narration. She literally end ups in a police station being strapped down because of him, with her parents absolutely horrified, and yet texts him 200+ times. Abusive relationships are a common metaphor for drug addiction in recovery communities for a reason. Your best friend, your worst enrmy. Rue ends up in the hospital, only narrowly escaping death, and after seeing the impact her drug overdose has on her younger sister and mother, after landing in rehab, continues to use. She even tells herself she's happy, damn near skips out of the hospital. Seeing a trend here?

Cal and his hookup from the newest episode really displayed this point perfectly. He's a distraught man when he is talking in that hotel room. He knows what he has put Nate, his own child through by living this double life. Yet there he is, so what do you think he's going to do to blot it out in that moment? He tries to find the solution in the problem, getting his fix all over again, just like Rue. When overwhelmed by the state of her life, she just swallows another pill, snorts another line, downs another bottle, turning to the source of the mess she's in.

Even Rue herself has reycyled one addictive behaviour for another with Jules. The obsession, the dependence, it's all still there, but it's wrapped up in a person instead. I'm far too tired to continue this with characters like Jules, Nate, and Fez, but you get my point.

#euphoria #rue bennett #nate jacobs #cal jacobs #kat hernandez #maddy perez

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cosmonaughty · 5 years

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I recently re-watched Season 1 of Fargo FX and, as is the case with every great show or movie, there were things I noticed that I had missed in earlier viewings. A few of these had to do with the portrayal of hospitals in film, which is another small obsession of mine, so I thought that I would take the time to combine these two interests and talk about the way that Fargo FX depicts hospitals. I will be mentioning the inaccuracies in this portrayal and the way that the liberties that are taken advance the plot and enhance the mood of certain scenes. By pointing out these inaccuracies, I am not trying to criticize the show or its writers, I’m just using my specific experiences to talk at length about something I love.

(Also, this post will contain big ol’ spoilers for Season 1 of Fargo FX, so go watch it if you haven’t yet and then come back.)

There are a few scenes that I wanted to discuss here, and I will bring them up chronologically. In episode 5, Lester is rushed to the hospital in an ambulance with what appears to be sepsis resulting from a shotgun pellet lodged in his hand. In the following episode, he sneaks out of the hospital to frame his brother for his wife’s murder. He does this by switching beds with his roommate, whose face is bandaged. As far as accuracy goes, it pretty much goes without saying that this concept is pretty farfetched, but I’ll run down the issues here anyway.

It’s never really clear to me what injuries require intensive care in this show (more on that later), but I will say that Lester recovers from sepsis in what must be record time. When I had more or less the same thing, my body essentially held down its own power button and restarted everything. I was in the ICU for multiple days, though I’m not sure how many because I wasn’t lucid the entire time, and I was pumped full of fluids and antibiotics, as well as hooked up to multiple tubes and wires.

Lester, however, is in excellent condition pretty much as soon as the source of his infection is removed, despite having been delirious, vomiting, sweating, shivering, and all that other fun stuff only the night before. His room seems to be on the general ward and the only thing hooked up to him is an IV, which appears to be dispensing saline and nothing else.

He is also under the care of what may be the least competent nurse I’ve ever seen in any show. Nurse Farber comes in to transport Lester’s roommate to radiology, but if she had checked his bracelet, she would have realized she was transporting the wrong patient. She also moves the entire hospital bed, rather than moving the patient to a gurney or a wheelchair, as has been my experience in the past (those beds are portable, but they’re very heavy and unwieldy).

However, these aren’t “mistakes”. They are deliberate choices that serve to move the plot along. We can’t put the story on hold so that Lester has a couple of weeks to recover and gain his strength back, so that process needs to be hurried along for the sake of the plot. If the nurse had checked his bracelet, his plan would have been foiled and, again, the plot would not be able to progress. If she had moved him to a wheelchair or gurney, he wouldn’t have been able to smuggle a change of clothes with him. So, these choices don’t arise from the writers’ ignorance of hospital procedure, they just need to bend some aspects of reality to advance the plot.

I would also like to point out some things this scene gets right about the hospital (based on my experience).

This room layout is pretty accurate. I like the little details like the plastic cup + bendy straw that everyone always has on their bedside table (even if you can lift a cup to your mouth, a bendy straw is required. It’s like an unwritten rule). I like the detail that the windows don’t open and I really appreciate that they didn’t have Lester pull out his IV like every renegade tv character seems to do. Instead, he simply disconnects the port from the tube so that he can move around, which I’m sure is more difficult than he makes it look but it’s leaps and bounds better than the old rip-em-out technique that I seem to see all the time.

I also like that the nurse uses the pain scale, which is pretty standard but I get a kick out of it. And, believe it or not, I have actually been deposited in the hall and left alone by nurses while waiting for imaging, which is how Lester manages to escape in the first place. Personally, I’ve never made it out the front door, but I haven’t tried that hard.

Now that we’ve talked about how the writers take liberties to advance the plot, let’s look at how similar inaccuracies can be used enhance the mood of a scene. If you want to see me get emotional (you sadist), get me talking about episode 7. In this episode, Molly, having been hospitalized after an emergency splenectomy, makes a trip from her room on the general ward to question Mr. Wrench, who is in custody in the ICU after having been shot twice by her (it’s not clear where he was shot, but he indicates his upper right chest, so somewhere in that area). He uses a white board to ask about his partner (Mr. Numbers) and Molly confirms that he is dead. She makes an attempt to connect with him and asks for his help in finding Lorne Malvo, but he shuts her out by refusing to look at her and she leaves. Later, in episode 8, Malvo shows up to taunt Wrench about having killed his partner, as well as to commend him for coming closer to killing him than anyone else had in the past. He gives Wrench the handcuff key and leaves.

Like I said earlier, it’s not clear what requires intensive care in this show, since Mr. Wrench doesn’t appear to be any worse off physically than Molly is (or than Lester was earlier). He does have more stuff attached to him, which is…good(?), but let’s talk about this ICU room:

This looks nothing like any ICU room I’ve ever stayed in. For one thing, in my experience the bed has always been facing the door, not inward to the rest of the room. I assume this is to make it easier to provide emergency care, which is the function of just about everything in the ICU. For this same reason, there’s very little privacy; the doors are usually clear glass and people come in and out all the time (nobody checks on patients in this show).

As I mentioned above, he has more “gear” (no, that’s not the correct term, but just be glad I didn’t call it “swag”) than either Molly or Lester, but far less than I would expect to see. There are maybe two bags on that IV pole, so probably saline and morphine (no blood/plasma/antibiotics/other medications). He’s got a heart monitor and a pulse oximeter, but no oxygen or bp monitor. Whether I like it or not, I’m always given oxygen in the ICU (which I tend to remove as soon as possible, apologies to my nurses) and if he was shot in the chest, he might actually need it. I’m also not convinced that heart monitor is working, since it doesn’t fluctuate at all when Malvo shows up in episode 8. ALSO: that bed rail should be up; I don’t care if he is handcuffed in place, that looks like a fall risk to me. Who is running this place?

(I’m also kinda jealous, because I’ve never been in an ICU room with this much natural light.)

As I mentioned before, there is specific intent behind these omissions and changes. For one thing, if there were several different machines and wires and lines and the like, the shot would be really busy and it would be distracting, both visually and auditorily, as hospital equipment tends to beep and beep and beep and beep.

Additionally, the shots are very clean, which effectively communicates a sterile environment to the audience; the natural light from the window compliments the Season 1 aesthetic really well and it also contributes somewhat to the coldness of the scenes in this room.

Speaking of which, this is as good a time as ever to bring up something I only consciously noticed very recently. Let’s go back to episode 7 and take a look at the difference between his room and Molly’s.

It’s very subtle, but the light above her bed is a warmer tone; her bedding is also comprised of warmer, lighter tones. Additionally, there’s some framed artwork on the wall, and most importantly she is surrounded by people (and flowers) in every shot.

Even in reverse shots of her, the frame contains color and warm tones. Contrast this with a similar OTS shot of Wrench in his hospital room. The temperature of the scene is a lot colder and the frame surrounding him is empty, which is excellent shorthand to communicate loneliness and alienation.

His room also has some kind of mesh over the window, the practical purpose of which (if there is one) eludes me. As I mentioned earlier, hospital windows don’t open, something the writers are obviously aware of, and I’ve personally never been in a hospital room that had a grate or bars over the windows. Regardless of its practical purpose, this is another detail that contributes to the theme of isolation that is present in the design of these scenes. Being in the hospital can be a lonely, alienating experience, which is something I feel is communicated really well here.

These are subtle decisions that make a huge impact on the mood of the scene. I’m gonna be real with you right now, Mr. Wrench is my favorite character and this scene breaks my heart every time I see it. A good deal of that is owed to the quality of the show’s writing and the amazing talent of Russell Harvard and Allison Tolman, but it is always fun to see how my emotions are being relentlessly manipulated by the cinematographer as well. Good job, you guys.

I want to conclude with a proposed alternative to the staging of that last scene.

As you can see here, this scene is set during the day, with daylight clearly visible from the window. However, imagine how the emotional intensity might be different if the scene was set at night.

In my experience, nighttime in the hospital can be the most difficult, emotionally speaking, and it’s something I’ve even come to dread as a patient. For the most part, visitors have to go home, the room is dark but the lights are on in the hall and the nurses’ station. You can’t sleep because you’re uncomfortable and people keep coming in to take vitals and blood, and overall it’s very lonely.

So, imagine this scene exactly as it is played out in Season 1, but now instead of a closed off room with daylight coming through the window, the lights in the room are dimmed, it’s night outside (maybe street lights are visible through the window, but not too much). There is a soft glow coming from the heart monitor. Molly is sitting beside the bed with her back to the open door rather than the window. In the background the lights are on in the hall, you can see hospital staff going about their routine in the background. His life is falling apart in this scene, but it’s business as usual for everyone else. Even Molly, as sympathetic as she is, is just doing her job here.

I’m not saying that this staging would have been better, but it would have had a different emotional intensity. I like to see how the environment of the hospital could be used to enhance the mood of a scene, rather than simply act as a back drop because hospitals are deeply personal places, but can be so alienating at the same time. That said, I think that the way they used the environment to impart that sense of loneliness was excellent, and I support the decision to omit certain specifics that might compromise the mood or the flow of the plot.

Oh, and, if you still haven’t done it: go watch Fargo FX.

#fargo fx #fargo season 1 #lester nygaard #lorne malvo #mr wrench #molly solverson

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 4 years

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Day 6 without sculpting...

In a way it’s weird I miss sculpting so much. This near daily sculpting is actually a relatively recent thing for me.

Actually, for about the first 20 years of my life I can count every time I sculpted on my fingers.

My father inspired my first sculpting. Before I was born he’d dug some clay out of the river bank and sculpted a little baseball sized head with marbles for eyes. It facinated me, so at about four I dug some clay out of a ditch and tried to sculpt two full figures. I let them dry on a plank in the summer sun....and they crumbled. Amazingly, one of the heads survives to this day.

In kindergarten we had a cool teacher with his own kiln. Technically he had us making little pots. I used the scrap and made a little alien head with big almost Mickey Mouse ears that he glazed for me and a little alien with loops for arms that I colored with crayons. He left at the end of the year, takng his kiln with him.

In second grade the new teacher had us make dough art angels. This was an “everyone copy the teacher” deal, so no real self expression. Let me tell you, dough art does not last in this climate. That angel no longer existed within a year.

My parents gave me some plasticine type clay for my 10th birthday. Unfortunately that sort of clay never can be made hard, and I really wanted something that would “stay”. I barely used it.

When I was in 9th grade the art class had a paper mache project. Or at least they called it that. Really it was a structure out of wire, newspaper and masking tape covered with plaster bandages. I made a dragon, Lockheed from the X-Men in fact, but that was that. No way could I get the plaster bandages myself, and I didn’t care for the rough surfaces.

And that was that for growing up.

The weird thing is, I actually was always drawn to sculpting, but it never occured to me I should sculpt. I loved physical objects that depicted living things and always noticed when stories included sculpting. Heck, I even started writing a fantasy story involving a sculptor and magical sculptures. But actual sculpting wasn’t even a daydream.

And then one day my hands got bored. It was an unusual day, a day off while Pop was away. Free time meant I could do what I wanted. In this case it was to watch a movie (The Brothers Karamazov), read a book (don’t remember what), read a magazine (dunno) and listen to music (forget what)....all at the same time...

Yeah, I’m like that. Always wanting to do several things at once.

There I was, sitting on the floor, all these things around me, and I noticed my hands were bored. Because hands do get bored. Mine do anyway. Just ask them! Pop had some boxes of clay he’d bought for a project but ended up with some left over. On a whim I decided to try sculpting with this “proper” clay.

I made a little bust, a woman with a flower in her hair and a beastie lying round her shoulders. If you look up pics of it (all my sculpting that exists is on my blog) you will see how crude it is, but at the time I was pleased. I’d expected sculpting to be hard, but this was easy!

But we didn’t have a kiln. Well, Pop had one somewhere out in the shop, but he didn’t know where, didn’t have time to look, and wasn’t keen on me pawing around when it was probably behind some unmovable things.

So that was that all over again, the old problem of wanting to sculpt something that would stay.

And then I discovered sculpey!

Now you would think this would kick off constant sculpting, but it was more fitful at first. The trouble was, I did not want to be watched sculpting. I just wanted to goof around with it, stress free. So what I did was sculpt every time I was guaranteed a solid hour to myself. I’d usually go stand on the ramp outside, sculpey in one hand and an old dull pairing knife in the other and sculpt.

This is probably why I sculpt so quickly even now. Back then I just wanted to do it unseen, baking as soon as there was anything at all I liked about it. Now fast sculpting is just secnd nature.

After a bit I branched out, making ornaments and getting roped into making a dollhouse doll for a cousin. I also made several dolls that scale for fun and gifts for my family. I also pleased the four year old me by making a Sleestak from memory. I experimented with gluing a face on one of the boxes I’d painted. (Painting boxes was a thing for me for years) I started running out if space for the busts so I started making magnets and lining all the metal bookcases in my bedroom with faces.

But during all that I could go weeks, even months, without sculpting. I’d paint boxes. I’d write. But all these things shared a little space of free time.

We were busy. The fiberglassing business took a heck of a lot of work. There were all sorts of organizations, causes, meetings I tagged along to, obligations to my family. Making takes time, even if it’s just an hour, and back then I never had insomnia so working after everyone went to bed wasn’t an option.

Still, I made things right along until the weirdness happened. For a several years I had a creative block.

Totally.

Completely.

I didn’t sculpt. Didn’t paint boxes. Didn’t write stories. I didn’t even dream at night.

It was hellish.

I can’t tell you why it happened. I can’t even tell you why it ended. All I can tell you is was if my imagination started to reawaken in 2012, a year that at that time I thought was one of the worst in my life. It started with a painted box here and there. Slowly.

Then 2013 happened, the terrible year of Pop’s illness that made the bad things of 2012 seem pale in comparison. Suddenly I was dreaming, dreaming in overdrive in fact. The dreams I was churning out boxes as fast as I could paint them to “exorcise” those dreams. The dreams occupied my mind constantly. At night they were like serialized stories night after night, during the day I was like an obsessed fangirl disecting and rerunning her favorite show that just happened to be created by my subconscious.

This frantic box painting lasted until the last stages of Pop’s illness, when it stopped. I haven’t painted a box since.

In mid to late 2014, the year Pop died, the cousin I made the Beast doll for sent me a letter. Actually, now that I think about it, it was the last time I heard from her. She said she’s shown the doll to someone she knew that had a dollhouse collector store and they said I had talent, that in fact it was as good as many professional dolls. The cousin suggested, now that our fiberglassing business was gone I should take up doll making.

It sounded reasonable, though I completely doubted that “talent” part. But there were problems with this plan. I hadn’t sculpted in several years and didn’t know if I still could. I wanted to make fully jointed dolls, but making them by hand out of sculpey would be tricky to master. Everything I made (and make) is one of a kind and feels like a part of me, so parting with them would be painful. I needed to figure out how make it easier on myself.

I mean, there is a reason I jokingly call my sculpting “making friends”.

And so I got to work. I decided to use my werewolf box as inspiration, figuring that with these wolf people I could make them enough alike it would be easier to part with them, but enough different I wouldn’t get bored. I could learn to make mold from them, and then selling wouldn’t hurt.

This is when I think my sculpting addiction really began. Instead of sculpting occasionally I was sculpting most nights, and would stay up late when making the bodies.

This period of experimentation lasted for a few months, long enough for me to suffer the disapointment of being an outsider exhibiting at an art show with my odd fantasy dolls. I actually WAS making progress. I liked a few of the dolls snd thought in a few more months I’d be ready to go to the next stage, I even bought molding and casting materials to learn to use...

And the floor collapse happened. This started an ever increasing cascade of disasters that continues to this day.

At first I thought the interuption was temporary. By the end of 2015 I’d be back at learning to make dolls...

Obviously this didn’t happen. For months I kept making heads for future doll experiments, complete with metal loops for stringing them on. I even built a storage box to keep them all in. Eventually the room with the box started to go, so I “temporarily” moved it to the other house. It’s there still.

By then I had a sculpting habit. I needed to sculpt. My fingers would twitch around sculpey. Mom would laugh at how on nights where I didn’t sculpt my eyes would dart to the sculpey every few seconds. She would tease me about it calling to me, but it’s sort of right. In 2015 sculpting had become something that I constantly felt I should be doing.

To be honest, the addiction aspect has only gotten worse with time.

When Mom was here there were more nights I didn’t sculpt, and if I started sculpting as she went to bed she’d remind me not to stay up late. Since her stroke and her going to stay with my brother I’ve been alone. Alone to watch movies and sculpt, with no socializing to distract me and no one to tell me to stop.

Now the nights I don’t sculpt are rare (see last November when I sculpted more faces than there even were days in that month because I sculpted more than one a couple nights). The faces stick with me less though, to the point that when I post pics a month later I have actually forgotten many of them already.

I don’t do anything with these faces. I sculpt them quickly, photograph them, wrap them in tissues and throw them into one of the storage boxes I have for them. Those boxes have literally hundreds of faces by this point.

I shouldn’t NEED to sculpt.

I have spent more days of my life not sculpting than sculpting. I have sculpted more faces in the last year than most people do in a life time. Ignoring the fluke of the one face I sold, I don’t profit by it in any way.

The sculpting is a compulsion, an impulse I can’t resist. I feel a weird guilt and unease when I don’t sculpt. It hasn’t even been a full week without sculpting and it’s driving me nuts. Believe me, I know it’s ridiculous!

#sculpting #artists on tumblr #art

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tisthenightofthewitch · 5 years

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'Shaking things up is important': Swedish hard-rockers Ghost keeps fans guessing with shifting style and sound

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It’s a tough job, being the lead singer of Swedish hard-rockers Ghost.

The ever-changing ensemble has gone through a number of front men in their nearly decade-long existence, all skeletal creatures in Pope-like raiment dubbed Papa Emeritus 1 through 3. Unlike most bands, who part ways with members through statements to the press, Ghost vocalists tend to, well, completely disappear; it was assumed they were retired from their Satanic duties until a video from last year revealed their grisly fate, poisoned and then embalmed, to be brought along on tour as part of the spectacle. Good thing they had an up-and-coming member of the unholy clergy named Cardinal Copia ready to pick up singing duties for their latest album, Prequelle.

“We’re not sure how long he’ll last,” shrugs Ghost founder Tobias Forge over the phone from Europe. “He is not perfected yet, and because of that we don’t know if he’ll become Papa Emeritus 4. That is what we’re hoping for him, of course. We’ll see.”

Forge, who is bringing his band to Edmonton as part of their Ultimate Tour Named Death, has been outed in the press as not only all three versions of the Papas, but also as newcomer Copia. We’re going to ignore this heresy and go with the Ghost mythology, which has resulted in an over-the-top stage show involving nameless ghouls on various instruments, a quickly growing fan base that now sees them playing in arenas, and occasional blowback from the religious right. KISS and Alice Cooper fans from the ’70s, are you reading this?

We spoke with Forge about the new album, the intractability of some music fans, and GG Allin.

Q: With your latest album, Prequelle, you’ve shaken things up a little musically, as well as bringing in the character of Cardinal Copia.

A: Everything was becoming a little too predictable, and I didn’t want to just bring out yet another character who had already risen to the utmost exultation like the Pappas. We needed to see someone who had not yet been exalted to the primary position. I think that was important, and it was also important to present a dish that was authentic, that people had to chew through a little instead of being another porridge they could swallow through a straw.

Q: It’s no fun if you just keep doing the same thing.

A: Oh, yeah, and Ghost has always been about having fun, so shaking things up to whatever degree is important. Keep in mind we’re still in the beginning phase, we’re not a nostalgia act, we need to not be predictable.

Q: Since you’re just as likely to play rock or pop as you are metal you’re definitely not predictable. Do you get much blowback from the metal community because of that?

A: There’s a bit of polarization, but you can’t please everybody. I was never in the game to please everyone. I’ve always had this provocative streak in me, and there’s a kind of puritanism in metal.

Q: Metal fans are very loyal, but also at times can be easy to anger.

A: There’s a degree of alienation there, myself included, and a common attraction to darker metal. We hold some styles dear to us, I think that’s the reason why there’s an over-reverence towards any music that is left of centre. It’s elitism, and I’m guilty of it as much as anyone else. There are still times when I believe that I like a particular band for the “right” reasons, while others only like it because it was mentioned in a magazine. If you’d met me when I was 14 you’d hear all about it.

Q: I guess that whether you’re obsessed with punk, metal, or hip-hop, you’re always going to like the first demo by a band over every other release; that’s part of the charm.

A: I understand that completely. That’s why I feel myself to be a bigger fan of Blasphemy than someone else, because they saw them on a YouTube channel whereas I had to find a tape. But then I hear myself saying this and it doesn’t really mean anything. That’s my background. With Ghost, some people think the first album is better than the second, or that we got worse when we started playing in front of more people, or we were cool when no girls liked us.

Q: With Ghost it seems as though you’re trying to prod yourself out of your comfort zone as much as possible.

A: You definitely have to have a fingertip feeling at all times. I really believe that when orchestrating your career you have to fuel the aircraft with as much intuition as you can, as well as a lot of teenage sex lust. Then again, you have to craft it in a way that goes along with some sort of code. That being said, there are lots of bands that have done things without following a code; on one hand you have Soundgarden, on the other you have GG Allin. That’s fun for a laugh, but not much of a career. So, you have to have your head screwed on for certain points, and then unscrewed for certain creative moments. It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye!

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#Tobias Forge #Tobias Interview #The Band Ghost #Ghost Band #Cardinal Copia

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opinuun · 5 years

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Do you guys remember when this was a studio Ghibli blog and I’d post gifs? 2017 was a good year lol. Anyway. As a child, I never knew I’d thirst for a 2-D otome man, but sadly I’ve stopped. Yes, after two years of obsession, it’s time I retire from the fandom. I’m keeping the blog though. Ran this shit for years, ain’t gonna give up now that my horny-meter has plummeted to an all time record low. Did you guys know blogs don’t have a character limit??

Oh god. I didn’t know this blog would suddenly receive so much attention. Please, I am begging you to not scroll down. It’s endless MysticMessenger posts from two years ago.

Hey, I'm once again: back, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this blog. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named [email protected] Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, [email protected] Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote.

Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye..

#long post

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dastardlydalliances · 4 years

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rules: tag ten followers you want to know better !

tagged: stole from ancientgoldboundspirit and necrofia tagging: anyone who wants to do it!

Name: Tenabii Star sign: Cancer Height: 171cm (5′ 6″)

Put your itunes / spotify on shuffle. what are the first 6 songs that popped up?

Why Does Love Do This To Me - The Exponents Moves Like Jagger - Maroon 5 Black Horse and the Cherry Tree - KT Tunstall Survive the Night - Mando Pony Ever Fallen In Love - Pete Yorn Drive - Bic Runga

Grab one book nearest to you and turn to page 23. what’s line 17?

Kotahi te hōiho - There is one horse (it’s my old te reo māori learning book lol)

Ever had a poem or a song written about you?

Nah, don’t think so.

When was the last time you played air guitar?

Idk never? I don’t know if I’ve done that. Maybe years ago?

Who is your celebrity crush?

It was Gwendoline Christie but lately I’m thinking Karen O’leary :/a

What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

I hate the sound on people scraping metal forks on their teeth. I genuinely can’t understand how people can touch their teeth with metal forks and not want to leap out of their skin? I love the sound of peoples footsteps, like when you’re in a mall or just somewhere that footsteps are audible. There’s something soothing about it.

Do you believe in ghosts?

Not really but socially it’s fun.

How about aliens?

Yeah, statistically it’s v unlikely that there aren’t aliens. Doubt they’ll ever get to earth tho.

Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed ?

Yes I do and no I’ve never crashed. Had a few close calls but luckily the only things I’ve bumped into are the rocks lining my driveway.

What was the last book you read ?

I think the last /book/ book I read was the first Famous Five one XD I’ve been reading mostly fanfics recently - latest one was The Last Speedster by PopCulturist.

Do you like the smell of gasoline?

If I don’t have a headache then yes I do.

What was the last movie you saw?

The fourth Jason Bourne one, where Jason Bourne isn’t even in it only Hawkeye. It was on tv and my parents were watching it while I rped the other day.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

I haven’t really had many bad injuries that I can think of. Mostly scrapes and bruises.

My coolest one was when I accidentally stabbed a needle right through two of my fingers and out the other side at work. Luckily a clean one lol so I didn’t become catwoman :P

Do you have any obsessions right now?

Not right now, I’m in an inbetween phase. Most of my time is split between rp, minecraft and justice league fanfics.

Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

Depends the situation and my scope for responses. In private life yes. In work life I mostly just ignore things unless they’re significantly bad enough to make an official complaint.

In a relationship?

Yes, in the early stages of one. But we’ve been split up by the lockdown in NZ so we’ve only been able to skype a few times a week. Sad :C

#ooc #long post #I did #now everyone else do too

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rockscanfly · 5 years

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A Sword For A Heart

“One week,” Kaldur decided. “That should be enough time.”

The dull smack that resounded through the room told Kaldur that Dick had slapped his palm against his face in frustration. “You’re the worst at this. A week? Kaldur, that’s nothing.”

Kaldur looked up, eyes steely. “One of the most important elements of the offensive is momentum,” he said calmly. “Every day I delay, the situation building in the shadows becomes more perilous. People are disappearing, Dick. I can’t afford to wait.”

Dick sighed, exhausted eyes looking at Kaldur through the gaps between his fingers. “If you die I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

Kaldur smiled, grim. “I’ll endeavor not to inconvenience you.”

Hero life often involves tough decisions, and Kaldur has never been anything less than practical.

(Fives time Kaldur made a hard choice, plus one time it was made for him)

Read below or on AO3

1) becoming Aqualad

Kaldur was fifteen the day Ocean Master struck down King Orin. Garth and he had been sent to the palace on an errand by Queen Mera. They had hidden when the fighting had started, knowing that their duty was to stay out of the way of the warriors who protect the King.

Those warriors were dead. In the corner of his eye Kaldur could see a cloud of red rising from behind a piece of the wrecked palace. He and Garth were hidden, crouched behind a garden wall in the palace courtyard.

Kaldur surveyed the scene, Garth breathing heavily beside him. He looked at Ocean Master, terrifying in his armor with he trident in his hand.

Kaldur was a novice, not even anywhere near the best in his class. Ocean Master had just stuck down King Orin, the most powerful warrior in Atlantis. Kaldur had no chance of defeating him. He’d die.

“What do we do?” Garth whispered. His voice was small the way it hadn’t been since their first deep trench patrol, back in the days when they were in the same squad in the militia. Garth had been raised on a sea shelf, never far from the light. He was terrified of the dark.

Kaldur had been raised in Shayeris, where volcanic vents provided warm water that allowed valuable plants to flourish. His mother has taken him to the pitch black depth of the vents often, cautioning him to avoid the dark caves and the ancient creatures that lived there. She taught him how to navigate the dark, how to use it to his advantage. It was just another environment—treacherous is he was ignorant, useful if he learned to read it.

He had lead the way for their squad that day, had guided them through.

“We fight,” Kaldur said to his friend, willing a blade to form in his hand. He stopped himself, slamming the door shut on his magic as his tattoos began to glow. The light would give away their position.

He would have to form the weapon as he attacked. He’d never done it in less than ten seconds.

He would have three.

Garth inhaled deeply, let it out slow. He looked as terrified as Kaldur felt. “We’ll die.”

Ocean Master was approaching King Orin’s unconscious body, trident glowing in his hands. Ocean Master could kill their King from a distance, but something Kaldur saw in the man’s tensed shoulders told him Ocean Master wanted to do it close. Personal.

Kaldur was fifteen, and so was Garth. They were novices who stood no chance against an enemy like Ocean Master.

But their King was in danger, and there was no one else.

“Then we die as true citizens of Atlantis,” Kaldur replied, reaching over to squeeze Garth’s shoulder. “Courage, my friend.”

Garth nodded, swallowing. “Alright. For Atlantis.”

Kaldur smiled. He was going to die, he knew. But he would die by the side of his best friend.

The two boys darted quickly out from their cover, Garth charging a bolt of energy, Kaldur forming two swords. They rushed at Ocean Master, screaming in usion. “For Atlantis!”

2) J’ohnn

Despite the concerns raised by some—and on what leg could Roy stand, really—Kaldur had never been suicidal. He had never desired to die.

But sometimes choices had to be made, practical choices. And Kaldur had never been anything less than practical.

It was one of those split second choices. Not one that could go either way—the moment the choice was apparent, Kaldur knew bone deep which road he would take.

Aliens, impossibly strong and deadly aliens with superior technology and overwhelming numbers, had invaded Earth. The rest of the League was gone, the ruins of the Hall were under siege. Their enemy was bearing down on them, screams and gunfire and the roar of their engines growing ever closer.

Death was coming.

But his team was safe, for now.

They had time to send one more through the zeta. Himself, or the Martian Manhunter.

To say that Kaldur performed the dreadful algebra would be a misnomer. The math was much more simple.

J’ohnn was a founder. He knew more of the different non-affiliate heroes scattered around the Earth. He had close ties with Orin, so he would be able to raise Atlantis against the invaders. He was Martian, and a hero among his people. He could get the Martians to come to Earth’s aid.

He was older, more experienced, more powerful. He was needed.

Kaldur was a novice sorcerer with maybe half a year of leadership experience. He had never even been to the Tower. What did he know of the secret weapons or allies the League might have?

One of them was going to make it out of this. And Kaldur saw, as simple as a child’s math problem scrawled in the sand of the sea floor, which of them it needed to be.

So he tossed J’ohnn through the zeta, and turned to meet his fate.

It hurt more than he thought it would.

Not just dying. Coming back, watching as his team huddled with their mentors, with each other. Robin couldn’t bear to look at him. Of the five, only Artemis approached him before they all left for the night, retreating to their corners to lick their wounds. She spoke awkwardly, stiltedly joking that of course the blondes on the team died first. Kaldur smiled back, but he could see from her eyes that it looked as empty as her words sounded.

The rest of the team avoided him, for the first few days. It was alright. He understood.

Artemis had been killed. Superboy as well. Robin and Kid Flash had had no way out. M’gann has been murdered by her own uncle out of necessity, to save them all.

But Kaldur had sacrificed himself. He had chosen death. Chosen to leave the rest of them behind.

He understood their betrayal, their hurt.

But it didn’t change the math.

3) Roy

Kaldur breaking up with Roy was something that had been a long time coming. It wasn’t something he wanted. But.

Artemis had staged an intervention, a week ago. She had come to his apartment, spent hours explaining the ten thousand different ways Roy was self destructing. The ways Kaldur was failing to stop him.

Her sister had been there, as well. And had spoken her own piece. On how it was time for Kaldur to step aside.

On how he’d become ineffective, at best. An enabler, at worst.

Kaldur took a breath, forcing himself to meet Roy’s eyes. They stood together in the entrance to Kaldur’s apartment. Roy had been coming over for another night of obsessively pouring over LuthurCorp security records. “You’ve chosen a dark path. I can’t stop you, but I can’t follow you any further.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” Roy was incredulous, but not angry. Hurt, baffled. It shouldn’t be a surprise, with the way things have gone. Kaldur couldn’t see it, but Artemis had. And had pointed it out. Loudly.

But it warmed a dark corner of Kaldur’s heart, the part that was greedy for admiration, for trust.

Kaldur bit his tongue, looking at Roy’s wide eyes, those arched red brows. His heart hurt. He wanted to say no, of course not. To give in to that greedy need.

He grit his teeth, steeled himself. Cheshire hadn’t been wrong when she said Kaldur wasn’t what Roy needed now. He was too weak, too caught in his own demons to help Roy wrestle his. If he kept trying to keep both of them afloat on his own, they would both drown. “I can’t enable you anymore.”

Kaldur saw it, the moment Roy slammed his walls down. The blue of his eyes iced over, his shoulders tensed. “Like you’ve helped me do anything,” Roy spat, fingers curling into loose fists. “Years, and we’ve gotten nowhere. You’re too busy, too distracted with babysitting people who wouldn’t even need you if you didn’t force them to depend on you.”

Kaldur flinched. He crossed his arms, an unconscious mirror of the defensive fury in front of him.

Roy’s rants about Ollie and the rest should have prepared him to be attacked. Anyone who abandoned the search was the enemy.

Somehow, it had never occurred to Kaldur that Roy would ever see him as the enemy. “That’s not true.”

Roy tossed his head, shifting long hair out his eyes with a snarl. “It is. You need people to be dependent on you. It’s why you put up with it, despite all your bullshit about only filling the roll until Dick steps up. Dick’s been sixteen for a year, Kaldur, and you haven’t once talked about handing over the reins.”

Kaldur frowned. “Dick had been dealing with a death in his family. I will not force him merely because I am tired.”

“No!” Roy snapped, pointing at Kaldur accusingly. “You won’t step down because you’re too much of a coward. You’re afraid that if you step down they might all realize they don’t know a fucking thing about you. You’re afraid you might actually have get close, without that title to protect you.”

Kaldur frowned, reflexive anger digging its claws into his heart. “I got close enough to you.”

Roy laughed, a short mocking bark. “And now you’re cutting fucking anchor, aren’t you? At least Jade is honest. You’re not leaving because you’re tired of helping me. You’re leaving because you’re a coward.”

Half right, Kaldur thought vaguely in the part of his mind that wasn’t reeling. And that was the crux of it. Cheshire was more honest than Kaldur could ever be.

Kaldur was too attached, too hesitant of alienation to really hold Roy accountable. He always had trouble speaking plainly, to the people he loved. Cheshire had no such qualms. She’d be more help to Roy thank Kaldur could be, even if it wasn’t the kind of help Roy meant.

Which is why it was time to yield to her. She could give Roy what Kaldur never could—a wake up call.

Kaldur mastered himself, slamming a lid on the hurt burning like acid in the back of his throat. He wanted to defend himself against Roy, he wanted to give in, to stay. To prove Roy wrong, show he wasn’t a coward.

But this was about Roy, and what Roy needed. And Kaldur wasn’t it. “Then perhaps she’s the one you should go to, from now on.”

“Fine. Leave. But I won’t stop looking for the real Roy Harper. You think this threat is enough? You think you leaving me hurts more than Ollie? Than Dinah?”

Kaldur swallowed, gritting his teeth. An apology lay on his tongue, natural as a breath. Of course not. My apologies. I didn’t mean it.

I’ll come back.

He wanted to take it back. He wanted to give Roy what he wanted—a partner in this relentless chase, this mad man’s quest for a ghost.

What Roy needed was for Kaldur to walk away. To cede the stage, and his part. “The last thing I have ever wanted was to hurt you, Roy.” But he would hurt Roy. He’d hurt him, a thousand times over, before he’d help him go a step further in a journey that was killing him.

Roy laughed, yanking open the door. He threw a bitter smile over a too-thin shoulder, eyes furious beneath the messy fringe of his hair. “You’ve got a fucking fantastic way of showing it. Whatever. I should have known you’d leave, too.”

And then he was out the door, and Kaldur was alone.

4) the infiltration

He and Dick had talked it through before. Playing the Light’s own handbook against them, using one of their own as a double agent. Artemis had been an obvious pick, but her family ties were too well severed. Connor, simply too unbelievable. None among their number had the right motivation, the right connections. Heroes didn’t just casually turn. There was always impetus.

An illusion alone wouldn’t work. A new villain would have to establish themselves, spend years working up the ranks. It was too much to ask. And besides, they had the inkling that kind of time simply wasn’t available.

There were countless villains in Belle Reve they could replace, of course, but that trick had been tried. The Light would be fools to fall for it twice. And their enemy was many things. But they were not stupid.

It had just been an idea, tossed around late nights like a worn softball.

Until now.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Dick said for what must have been the fifth time. They were holed up together in the Cave’s library. Ostensibly, Kaldur was mourning, and Dick had come to comfort him.

And he would mourn. One day. When there was time. “It’s an opportunity we cannot allow to pass,” Kaldur replied, staring into the depths of his cooling tea. His body ached from yesterday's battle. He furiously didn’t pay attention to his other, less physical hurts.

“I know you’re tough,” Dick said, looking at Kaldur over folded hands. He slouched low in the armchair across from Kaldur’s own. “But this? This is. It’s a lot. Even for you.”

Kaldur sighed, setting his mug firmly down on the side table. He flinched at the bang, distantly recognizing the irritation creeping its way up his neck in a flush of heat. “We don’t have any other options.”

Dick frowned. “One of your best friends just died,” he said bluntly. “And you just found out your parents and Aquaman have been lying to you your whole life. Your dad is Black Manta. That’s a lot to process.”

Kaldur maintained the careful blank of his expression. Pain screamed behind the wall he’d erected in his own mind, amplified by Dick’s words. “We cannot afford to wait. I will survive.”

“But will you be effective?” Dick asked, and here was the cold edge of practicality that Kaldur needed. The edge the others lacked, the thing that made Kaldur sure that Dick would lead the Team well in his absence. “Will you be able to focus? We’ve talked about how dangerous this could be, Kal. Maybe you’ll survive. But if you’re unstable it won’t matter if the Light thinks you’ve really turned. They won't use you. And if they don’t have a use for you they sure as hell aren't going to tell you anything about what they’re up to.”

Kaldur frowned, steepling his fingers in front of himself. “You have a point,” he admitted. “And if I leave immediately, it will look impulsive. I need them to have confidence in my abilities as much as my intentions.”

Dick looked relieved. “I’m glad you can see that.”

Kaldur nodded, not looking up from his study of the library carpet. “One week,” he decided. “That should be enough time.”

The dull smack that resounded through the room told Kaldur that Dick had slapped his palm against his face in frustration. “You’re the worst at this. A week? Kaldur, that’s nothing.”

Dick sighed, exhausted eyes looking at Kaldur through the gaps between his fingers. “If you die I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

Kaldur smiled, grim. “I’ll endeavor not to inconvenience you.”

5) the Cave

It was the morning of their first mission together as Tigress and Devil Ray. Kaldur woke up early, anxiety curling in his stomach like snakes.

He wasn’t suprised to see that Artemis was already awake, checking her crossbow. “So, today’s the day.”

Kaldur grunted, rising from their shared bed and padding to the washroom. He reached for his toothbrush. “It is.”

Artemis frowned, fiddling with the trigger mechanism. Her mask lay on the small desk that occupied the corner of their shared berth. Her hair was already brushed, pulled up out of her face while she conducted her maintenance. “You nervous?”

Kaldur spit neatly into the sink. “I have confidence in us.”

Finally, Artemis looked up. “Are we really going to do it? Blow up the Cave?”

Kaldur’s breath stuttered. The snakes in his stomach constricted around his heart. Kaldur had had many homes over the years. Since he left for service in the militia at the age of twelve, he had never called one place such as long as he had called the Cave.

At some point in his military training and sorcery schooling, Shayeris has become ‘back home’. Home was his barracks, or later his dorm.

At some point in his role as leader of the Team, the pattern had repeated. Atlantis was ‘back home’. Now, the Cave was home.

“We will do what we have to do,” he replied, finally. The words tasted like copper in his mouth.

“But do we really have to?” Artemis asked, an edge of desperation to her voice. “What will it prove, even? You already killed me, kidnapped and tortured La’gann. Not to mention the shit the crew says you’ve pulled in Atlantis. Hasn’t that been enough?”

Kaldur shook his head. It didn’t help that her questions echoed in his own head. He’d already given up everything, but nothing seemed to be enough. “It isn’t for us to decide what has been enough. My father has still not introduced me to the Light. We have to face the possibility that we will need to do more.”

“More than kidnapping our friends?” Artemis’s hands tightened over the curve of her bow, knuckles going white. “What else do we have to prove?”

“Whatever they ask of us,” Kaldur said, short. “What we are doing requires total commitment, not half measures.”

Artemis snarled, standing. “I understand that. I died, remember? My whole family thinks I’m dead, Kal. I’ve given up everything for this.”

Kaldur looked at her calmly. “And they think me your murderer. I’m a traitor to my country. I have had to do terrible things, Artemis.” Kaldur took a breath, reminding himself that they are here to help one another, not tear each other’s throats out. “We’re together in this, wherever it goes. I don’t want to destroy the Cave any more than you do. But we’ve both already chosen to do what’s necessary. It is just a place.”

Artemis snorted. “You know as much as I do that is isn’t.”

Kaldur shook his head. “Our team will survive. They will make new memories, somewhere else.”

“What if something goes wrong?” Artemis’s voice was strained. “What if they die?”

Kaldur closed the distance between them and laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “We won’t let that happen.”

Artemis sighed, leaning into the contact. She brought her arms up around Kaldur’s neck in a tight hug. “If it’s just a place then why would they care if we blow it up,” she asked into his shoulder, muffled. “What do they care if we keep our home?”

Kaldur pressed a kiss into the crown of her hair. “They appreciate drama. I cannot say the gesture will be enough to win them, but we cannot take the chance. The world is it stake, my friend.”

Artemis laughed, bitter. “When you put it like that. It’s not even a choice, is it?”

Kaldur hummed. “It is. But it is a plain one.”

“I’m gonna miss it,” she said, voice strained. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, eyes damp against his shirt. He pretended not to notice.

Kaldur squeezed her in return, throat tight. “As will I.”

+1) going home

Kaldur blinked bemusedly as the steel door of his Watchtower quarter shut behind him. There were two visitors, unannounced and uninvited, in his small room. “Hello.”

“Oh, hey Kaldur,” Artemis said absently, not deigning to turn around from where she was neatly moving his collection of books from their shelf to a cardboard box at her feet. “You have a lot of poetry. Whitman, Wilde, Lords, Hemphill. Something you need to tell us?”

“I’ve been openly bisexual for years,” Kaldur said faintly. He only heard Artemis as if from far away. He was distracted with something else.

That something—someone—was Roy Harper. Who was staring back at Kaldur, wide eyed, frozen with sheets raised in his hands. Who was standing in Kaldur’s room, above his bed, with trimmed hair and the neat beginnings of a beard. Whose shoulders had begun to fill back out, whose eyes were no longer the dark hollows they’d been the last time they’d spoken.

The last time they’d spoken, over two years ago, the night Kaldur broke things off and Roy had walked out of his life.

“Hey,” Roy said weakly. “Nice place?”

Kaldur crossed his arms, cautious. “It’s a place to sleep.”

Artemis snorted, finally turning as she carefully transferred the last of Kaldur’s books from the shelf to the box at her feet. She looked at the two of them, eyes narrowed. “It’s a fucking cell. Christ, Kaldur, this place is smaller than my freshman dorm room.”

Kaldur couldn’t tear his eyes away from Roy’s. “It serves its purpose.”

Artemis made a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure it helps you self isolate just fine, Kal.”

Kaldur grit his teeth. He was tired of this conversation. Everyone seemed to think they had to have it with him, lately. Dinah, John, seemingly every Leaguer even two years his senior. Like he had somehow proven incapable of taking care of himself, despite surviving under deep cover for over a year. “I am not self isolating. I am tired.”

“So take a break,” Artemis snapped. “Working fourteen hour shifts every day and running away to hide in here like a robot putting itself on recharge isn’t helping, Kal. You never spend time with your friends. With us.”

“I spend practically all of my time with the team,” Kaldur argued. “This is a place to get away. Sometimes I like to be alone.”

“You’re always alone,” Roy said, exasperation heavy in the lines of his mouth. “Even when you’re surrounded by people, issuing out orders. That hasn’t changed.”

Kaldur frowned. “More has changed than you think. I’m not who I was two years ago.”

Roy smiled, tired. “Neither am I, thank God.”

“Yes. Congratulations,” Kaldur said stiffly.

“On the kid or finding Roy?”

“Both deserve celebration.”

“Do you want to meet her?”

“Don’t ask him like he has a choice,” Artemis interrupted. “Of course he’s meeting her. He’s her godfather. And he’s coming to live with us.”

Roy glared at Artemis. “I haven’t even asked him yet.”

Artemis scoffed. “It’s extra responsibility. You’re expecting him to say no?”

Roy threw his hands up in the air. “I’m trying to give him a choice! God knows someone has to.”

“I wouldn’t be good at it,” Kaldur interrupted. His heart was in his throat. He had never thought of being someone’s godfather before. Had never thought of himself that ingrained in someone’s life. A permanent fixture, instead of a passing role.

Relied on, but not just for mission orders or reports. A relationship unmarred by the distance demanded by command or subordination, or the emotional scars and broken trust of the past.

He’d never thought of it before, but in that moment there was a flash of image, a lightning day dream of himself on the beach with a young girl with Roy’s hair and her mother’s eyes.

And, gods. He wanted.

“I’m not a practical choice. I’ve never raised a child. I’m still alien to surface customs, I know nothing of the associated responsibilities. I’m not even a citizen of...well, anywhere. I’m an exile.”

“Circling back to that one,” Roy said under his breath. “This isn’t about practical, Kaldur. If something happens to me, Lian has plenty of people who will help with those parts.”

Artemis finished packing the last of Kaldur’s books, dusting her hands off and leaning casually against the now empty shelf. “Her auntie, for one. And her grandma. And Uncle Ollie, Aunt Dinah,” she continued, ticking names off on her fingers. “Honestly, kid has the best family care plan on the planet.”

“Then what purpose would I serve,” Kaldur asked, stepping back towards the door. Artemis and Roy filled the room like it belonged to them. Like it was natural for them to be in Kaldur’s space.

It made him want to run.

Roy sighed, putting the sheets down on Kaldur’s unmade bed. He stepped around it, closing the distance between himself and Kaldur slowly.

Kaldur stepped back further, stopping only when he felt the cold steel of the door against his back. Roy’s eyes were tired, and kind.

“Is it so hard to believe that I just want you to be close to her?” Roy asked quietly, stopping with a foot of distance still between them.

Kaldur’s throat tightened. “Why.”

“Because we love you, you idiot,” Artemis said from behind Roy’s shoulder. “You’re family.”

Kaldur shook his head, not trusting his voice.

Roy’s expression tightened, the strain of regret pulling at the corners of his mouth. He reached out, carefully prying Kaldur’s finger from around his own biceps, folding Kaldur’s hands gently between his own. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For how I acted. For what I put you through. And I know I don’t deserve another chance, at what we had. So I’m not going to ask for it. But I. I meant what I said. That you don’t let people get close. You have to see that, by now.”

Kaldur swallowed, eyes flicking over Roy’s shoulders to look at Artemis. She raised a brow at him. “I’m backing Red up on this one, Kal,” she said. “I love you, but. You kinda suck at the whole being a person thing.”

“Then why try to get closer?” Kaldur finally managed to ask. “Maybe I stay away for a reason. Maybe I can’t give you what you’re looking for.”

Roy’s hands tightened around his own. “You don’t need to give us anything,” he said. “You’re enough.”

Kaldur breathed deep, air shuddering through him. “I don’t think I am.”

Artemis came up, leaving her position at the shelf. Unhesitating, she wrapped her arms around both his and Roy’s shoulders. “Kal. You don’t get to make that choice.”

Kaldur blinked, eyes wet. Carefully, he withdrew his hands from Roy’s. Roy’s face crumpled, and then lit up as Kaldur wrapped his own arms around his friends’ waists. Kaldur smiled in return, weak and watery but very real. His heart still hurt, but there was a warmth to the ache that hadn’t been there before. “Perhaps that’s for the best.”

#kaldur #young justice #roy harper #dick grayson #artemis crock #kaldur'ahm #yj #mine

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notbrianeno · 4 years

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#443: Sigur Rós - Ágætis byrjun

A decade:

1999: I get a copy of the NME with a free CD* containing lots of songs by bands I don't know, and one or two by bands I do know. This was an era where apart from Steve Lamacq’s Evening Session on Radio One, I didn't have much of an avenue for musical discoveries beyond free CDs with music magazines, which I was grateful for. I can’t remember what else was on this CD, maybe Super Furry Animals’ <10 second secret track “Citizen’s Band”**. Oh, and a song by post-Britpop groaners Terris, who I despised for the singer’s voice. I suspect I might enjoy them if I listened to them today, but it’s too late for that now. The CD includes a single edit of “Svefn-g-englar”, which I listened to once and ignored afterwards. I didn’t get it. I liked songs with audible and assertive guitars, and men who lacked the articulation to properly sing about their feelings so they sang about beer and socialism. This was in the transitional period from my Oasis phase to my Manic Street Preachers phase. I think my first serious musical obsessions were pretty respectable for the ages I was at.

2004: My friend Charlie has a radio show on UEA’s Live Wire station, and on these digital airwaves and in his whitewashed cinderblock bedroom across the whitewashed cinderblock hall from my whitewashed cinderblock bedroom, he introduced me to post-rock. Which I was grateful for. After hearing “Starálfur”, I finally got it. I made a lot of mix CDs back then, and this song made it onto most of them, or at least most of the ones I made for girls. My motives were pretty transparent, and my efforts largely in vain.

2008: Post-graduation, I’m living for a few weeks in London, doing work experience at Puffin Books, back when I thought a career in publishing was a viable option. Bit of advice for any younger readers: try not to graduate into a recession right as the wave hits the shore. On a whim, I walked over to a Methodist-meeting-hall-theatre in the indifferent shadow of the Houses of Parliament, and was on the receiving end of one of the more profound moments of kindness I’ve ever witnessed. The event was fully sold out, and only one solitary tout was trying to buy spares. I shadowed him, and pled my case to the kid who had a spare because his friend couldn't make it. He sold it to me for face value, under the nose of a tour offering him double. Which I was grateful for. My first time seeing Sigur Rós was, at the time, probably the best gig I’d seen, and still a top 5 show for me. During the outro of Olsen Olsen, a four- or five-piece brass band emerged from a doorway halfway up the wall to stage left, marched down a staircase, across the front of the stage, up another staircase and exit stage right. It was just about the most delightful thing I had ever witnessed.

2009: I’ve spent a weirdly-pleasant-for-London summer day touring City University with my brother (who either the previous Christmas or the next Christmas bought me this album on vinyl. Which I was grateful for.***), and for lack of anything better to do, we wander over to Hyde Park and get some cheap tickets for Neil Young. Paul McCartney came out at one point and they did A Day In The Life. Earlier in the evening, we were chatting to either a South African, an Australian, or a South African and an Australian, who was either trying to sell us weed or sell us on the concept of weed. My memory is hazy. I got distracted by the sight of a tattoo of the alien foetus cover art from this album on the shoulder of a person who I promptly declare that I want to hug, but by the time I get up to do it they have disappeared in the crowd. So it goes. Later that night I have a memory of sitting on the pavement by a bus stop talking to a man who said he was Jim from Massive Attack, and who I had no reason to disbelieve.

*IIRC the CD was titled “Come On Try Young” with a cover that was a parody of Mogwai’s Come On Die Young. Another band that I did not have the patience or palate for until I was older.

** I'm setting a dangerous precedent by putting song titles in quotes and italicising albums because I know I won’t remember to do this every time and then my whole style is going to look sloppy and inconsistent.

*** I just noticed I switched tense in every single paragraph, let’s just call it my own idiosyncratic style instead of taking the thirty seconds to correct it. Another dangerous precedent.

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greywindys · 5 years

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It’s that time of year again! I, and possibly a good number of you reading this, just spent the whole of 2018 in the Gorillaz fandom. Congratulations! You made it! Because this year...kinda sucked. Not just for the Gorillaz fandom but, if this Washington Post article is any indication, for the rest of the world too. Maybe on an individual level there were moments of light. Maybe Gorillaz was your moment of light. If it was I’m genuinely happy because that means you probably found a way to avoid or ignore all the chaos that went down this year. But overall? Fandom was rife with disappointments, confusion and conflict with some good parts (for me, at least) sprinkled in here and there. Below is a personal reflection on the top 10 significant events in fandom of 2018.

1. Murdoc Goes to Prison

2018 started out peacefully for fandom. We were just finishing up sharing our scans of G-Magazine and theorizing over the next album when we’re treated with this - a nineteen second mocap of a frantic Murdoc accepting a Brit Award with an “oh by the way I’m going to prison.” We didn’t know why or for how long, and, though fans were confused and Murdoc going to prison is a tired, overplayed storyline at this point, it was cherished as any new Gorillaz content, especially animation, is cherished. Memes were made, most notably the #FreeMurdoc hashtag complete with a petition which was acknowledged by creators and caused the first big outburst in fandom for its messy tag. I did what I always do with Murdoc videos and went through the entire thing frame by frame to collect screenshots. Little did I know that this would be the only time I would get to indulge in this beloved past time. Little did I know that I would be wearing the same expression as Murdoc is in this screencap this entire phase.

2. Murdoc hate

Murdoc hate has always existed. It’s also generally accepted. However, when it was confirmed that Murdoc was going to be in prison for an undetermined amount of time and that he may not even speak this phase (thanks a lot, phase 5 plot!) it reached unprecedented levels of viciousness. Some fans took every opportunity to drag him in the main tag, start debates with anyone who might mention one positive thing about him and expressed how they genuinely wanted him to die and/or never come back. It kinda reminded me of this season of MTV’s The Challenge when everyone ganged up on Johnny Bananas. Like, yes he’s an asshole and yes this was probably long overdue but also omg when is there and end point? Is there an end point? It was like some people hated Murdoc more than they liked Gorillaz. For some additional context - this tense environment was born out of an astoundingly severe conflict that happened in spring where three separate fandom storms that had been brewing since late 2017 collided into one huge mess. Discords were raided, friendships were lost, the police were called (I’m not even exaggerating). I won’t go into it more but if you were there, you know what i’m talking about. Murdoc wasn’t the cause of this, but his character was at the center of one of those storms and the canon sending him to prison only reignited the ire towards him. For awhile Murdoc fans weren’t sure were exactly they stood with the greater fandom, and new fans were confused as to why this one green character was the source of so much grief for haters and fans alike. This continued for most of the year (and still continues today), hence why it’s getting a mention now.

3. Ace

Believe it or not Murdoc and Ace are confirmed #friends. You wouldn’t know that from all the Murdoc vs Ace content that sprung out of this year but Ace was the one who joined Murdoc for hot chocolate after he got out of prison, “they go way back” etc etc. Ace was a big deal because it was probably the only time the fandom guessed something correctly this entire year. Jamie began posting cryptic pictures of Noodle with this unidentified man, then another with only the Ace card visible. “It a Powerpuff Girls crossover!” Some people claimed. But that seemed so random? Really? A B-list cartoon villain from a cartoon targeting an entirely different demographic? More likely than you think! Ace never spoke a word and he wasn’t allowed to smoke or have sex. People obsessed over him anyways. To this day I still have no idea who he is or what kind of personality he has or really anything. But he wasn’t a bad guy (more on that later) and he was Murdoc’s friend so he’s alright with me.

4. Messaging Denholm

By now the fandom was fraught with distress on so many levels. We were lost. We needed someone to guide us, to show us the way, to show us the #truth. I don’t know exactly who started this trend but it soon spread around Reddit and other social media sites that Jamie’s son Denholm was replying to dm’s on Instagram and soon, he was graced with a deluge of of inquiries from casual fans and Murdoc stans alike. The thing is though - he actually *did* answer them. Many of us had spoilers re: Murdoc and Ace’s friendship, Murdoc getting out of prison, etc. MONTHS before they happened. I believe he even told us that 2D was fine back in like, June or something. Denholm knew! Eventually we pissed him off but it didn’t stop him from answering. He just answered angrier. It also caused fans to argue more because people started accusing others of photoshopping his responses and nothing can ever be done peacefully here. I haven’t followed up on this story singe the end of summer but I think fans have finally scaled back on the messaging. But I hear he’s working on a Gorillaz documentary for 2019 so...I’m sure we’ll be talking again soon.

5. Noodle

I want to take a moment here to also acknowledge the struggle AMA Gorillaz hosted on, of all places, Youtube. Thankfully, diligent redditors compiled a google doc of all the answers otherwise they would lost thanks to Youtube’s confusing interface. ANYHOW. The answer that stirred up the biggest milieu of debate and confusion came from Noodle. This isn’t exactly my lane - I don’t wade into Noodle issues and I don’t id as part of the LGBT community - so I’m not going to say much here other than, at the very least, this was the second or third time she has officially denied any interest in dating her bandmates.

6. 2D’s journal/2Doc

Okay first of all: 2DOC...jk, jk...jk? But no, honestly, this actually did become a big story this year, much bigger than expected. The release of 2D’s journal was the catalyst here, revealing a number of drawings and images of Murdoc. “Souk Eye,” a song that came with visuals featuring close ups of Murdoc’s face and vaguely romantic lyrics was depicted in 2D’s journal next to yet another drawing of Murdoc. We were confused! 2D didn’t care that Murdoc was gone, right? 2Doc shippers were intrigued. I was hesitant. We were all called delusional. However, “Souk Eye” was later confirmed to be a love song by Damon Albarn, and Murdoc and 2D have both claimed their relationship is “better” since the end of phase 5 (hhMmMmM). Obvi, take this with a grain of salt because it’s Gorillaz but the journal was instrumental in confirming how closely The Now Now (and the entire plot of phase 5, really) was tied to Murdoc and 2D’s relationship, particularly what 2D thinks of Murdoc. Think of it as platonic if you want but they share a closeness on SOME level and the content of 2018, from interviews to the Murdoc chats to the album itself, supports this. I rest my case.

7. Lost theories

Pour one out for all the lost theories. If you were a new fan this year you probably came up with a theory, or you got really invested in a theory. Some examples: HIM from PPG orchestrating the destruction of Gorillaz by possessing 2D and getting Murdoc framed with Ace as a double agent, or Murdoc’s imprisonment being tied to his trouble with EMI from phase 4, or phase 5 being about time travel, or Murdoc crashing Demon Dayz fest and fighting El Mierda on stage, or 2D being the one to frame Murdoc or Murdoc’s inmate number (24602) being a Les Mis reference implying that he’d get a character arc similar to Jean Valjean...you get the idea. But there are dreams that cannot beeee, and there are storms we cannot weather. You can argue about the budget or G-Shock or whatever but the truth is Gorillaz is just disorganized. This is their Brand™.

8. The Murdoc Chatbot

Gorillaz did an interesting thing this year - it let us talk to Murdoc! Sometime around June, he writers decided that the plot of phase 5 would be best spent, not on exploring the band’s dynamic with Murdoc gone or developing Ace’s personality, but on Murdoc! Fandom spent most of the summer following Murdoc’s experience in prison and helping to “free” him via a chatbot you could access through Kik, Instagram or Facebook. Basically, Murdoc was Paddington from Paddington 2, and we the fans were supposed to be the Browns trying to break him out and prove his innocence. Other fans begrudgingly used the chatbot to make fun of him or tell him to die and follow along with the story (it was the only place you could get plot updates). It was a neat idea as well as a funny experience to pretend to be talking to him, and the plot was very engaging at times. It was the chatbot that revealed the very dissatisfying (albeit happy) conclusion that Murdoc is no Paddington and had lied about everything - being framed, El Mierda etc. - but felt really bad about it. His apology was basically this. I’m going to also tag the #FreeMurdoc merchandise debacle, how overpriced it was and how it ended up being pointless anyways because Murdoc wasn’t framed and didn’t need to be “freed” onto this, because it all falls under the same event. Oh, and you got to talk to Noodle sometimes, too.

9. G-shock ends phase 5

I put “ends phase 5″ in strikethrough because G-Shock on its own is actually pretty cool, and made up for the lack of videos (2 in total) that were released this year. The now Murdoc inclusive band goes to space and starts an alien war! That’s fun! Completely removed from whatever phase 5 was, but fun! (And I say that genuinely) What was messy about G-shock was that it came out of nowhere. The final Murdoc chat, that was SUPPOSED to reveal the ending to the prison arc, hadn’t even happened but suddenly, Murdoc was back to sell watches to aliens with the rest of the band and Ace was gone. But the final chat was delayed by a month and G-Shock came out anyways. Out of this came memes about how phase 5 ended so Gorillaz could try to sell us watches.

10. Cass Browne Tells us the True Plastic Beach Ending

We ended 2018 with not one but two major interviews from the fancast, Hallelujah Monkeyz but I’m choosing to cover their latest interview with Cass Browne, writer of Rise of the Ogre. If you were new this year you probably heard older fans mention ad nauseam how much they missed this guy name Cass. Well, Cass came back and dropped actual bombs about the true ending of phase 3, Murdoc’s lost backstory and the Plastic Beach book he found AND that a sequel to ROTO was planned and dropped. Understandably, this sparked a lot of discussion and also revealed just how important Cass was to the continuity of the Gorillaz storyline. Back then, we had ROTO and Plastic Beach. Today, we have “Murdoc drowns in poop and reunites with the band offscreen”

And that’s the year! And look I’m not saying this because I’m a stan but this was a Murdoc year. He was at the center of like, at least 80% of the angst and joy of fandom and I could make separate “top 10 Murdoc moments” or “top 10 2Doc moments.” I guess for me, on an individual level, it was an alright year. For one, I actually talked to more people this year and met some really great friends (something I don’t typically do in fandom). I also get to check “write a fanfic” off my bucket list (it’s still a WIP but it’s the first WIP I’ve ever had so I’m counting it). And personally, my life has changed and without getting into too many details I’ve overcome a lot, grown professionally and...I think I can be kinda proud of myself for that. I expect 2019 to be a slower year than this one, and, I think the fandom needs that. Hopefully I’ll still see some of you around because I’m going to be here for at least the next few months while I finish up you know what.

Honorable mentions: 2D “Dies” of Ligma and other 2D memes, 2D writes The Now Now, Benjamin Clementine says he regrets working with Gorillaz, Noodles old VA confirms Jamie ghosted her and recast Noodle without telling her, Gorillaz delay the final Murdoc chat by a month, Demon Dayz doesn’t get streamed, Music video releases - “Humilty” and “Tranz”, Cyborg Noodle returns with boobs and causes debate, the “Let Ace Speak” petition,

#endofyear #long post /#there's a 2doc mention in here just fyi if you want to avoid #not as organized as last year's that's for sure #but here it is!#again this is more for my records and tradition but also here to read if you want

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