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bracketsoffear · 11 months

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Duck Newton propaganda: The Blurryman, being a strange otherworldly being who stalks someone through her workplace and then takes her to another dimension where he tells stories about all the horrible things he's watched happen to unfortunate people for audiences' entertainment, feels like an Eye Avatar.

Duck Newton, on the other hand, was Chosen to have a supernatural Destiny at a young age by an otherworldly being and decided "fuck that." He spent his entire life trying to be normal despite being explicitly superhuman and visited by an alien projection of his mentor. He joins The Pine Guard, a group dedicated to fighting Abominations (horrible monsters that later turn out to exist for the purpose of causing worlds to genocide each other) to protect Earth and Sylvain (the world where Earth's cryptids come from), and he's still trying to hold onto his normal life as a Park Ranger; the only reason he agreed to get involved with magic is because other people would get hurt if he didn't. Even at the end, when he's regained his Chosen powers and helped save both worlds, he chooses to stay on Earth instead of going to Sylvain and starts planting trees in the rainforest with Minerva (formerly his mentor, now his girlfriend). He really would rather just be A Guy, even though he keeps getting dragged into paranormal situations.

Also, the Abominations that he fights run a gamut of Fears:

The Beast: A bizarre, reptilian creature that leaks a thick black oil used to control animal carcasses, which can be commanded as separate bodies or bound to its own to cover up its true appearance. Its initial appearance is a bizarre amalgam of different animals on a bear body. Not different aspects of animals—literally entire bodies of different animals jutting out from the bear torso in a patchwork.

The Water: An orb of light that can freely control any water in contact with it, first discovered in the Kepler High School swimming pool. It attacks with tendrils of water to drown people, and later turns out to be able to travel freely through Kepler's water supply.

The Calamity: A fortune-controlling tree. It uses its ability to manipulate chance to cause horrible disasters--it kills Rick Dannon by manipulating a drink bottle to get stuck under his brake pedal and cause him to crash; it nearly kills three people by causing a large sign to collapse onto a store; three more people are nearly killed in the funicular by it causing a bolt in the breaks to come loose; it causes a hook to fall out of a wall, dropping part of the net it was holding up and letting Thacker loose to attack the party; it tries to open a massive sinkhole that would collapse a hospital; and when it can't create huge disasters it does things like dropping tree branches on people and making their weapons malfunction.

The Countenance: a shapeshifter with no set form, appearing on its own as its true self surrounded by a swirling storm of chaotic particles; when it desires, these particles can condense around it to give it the appearance of someone it's seen. The nature of its shapeshifting is rather nauseating, as its "flesh" shifts and readjusts around injuries or when its settling into its disguises. Its introduction is when it walks casually into a bar, completely ignoring the people standing outside, and then mauls multiple patrons, two of whom die from their injuries and are rendered nearly unrecognizable. When examining the bodies of its victims, Aubrey points out that its victims have multiple fatal wounds and that it had plenty of time to attack more people rather than focusing on just two victims, coming to the conclusion that its attacks were meant to incite fear rather than just to kill. It also sets a trap for the Pine Guard by posing as one of the corpses at the crime scene, then killing and replacing a technician when it is delivered to the morgue. Later on it displays the ability to speak and reason on a human level--it murdered and impersonated Ned's friend Boyd during its arc, and it later disguises itself as Ned and uses his image to incite violence against the Sylvans in Kepler. After getting shot with the Narf blaster while already loosing its hold on its false forms, it loses its grip on its disguises entirely and degenerates into an amalgamated flesh blob of random half-formed body parts.

D.O.M/The Light: The Deliberative Operational Mind is a sentient dome of light that has been creating the abominations and sending them to Kepler. It contains all the surviving members of its founding race, who make every action by consensus. They're responsible for the Abominations as part of Project Reconciliation: by linking two potentially hostile worlds and then inciting them to destroy one another through the use of conflict agents, they drive two potential threats to destroy each other while remaining themselves unharmed. The inhabitants of Locus Prime created the Reconciliation project to reduce conflict throughout the cosmos, specifically by pitting similar worlds against each other and encouraging mutual destruction. Even though they're directly responsible for the deaths of many worlds, they choose to believe it saves lives (in particular their own) over time.

#asks #character propaganda #16th poll #long post

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dustedmagazine · 1 year

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Dust Volume 9, Number 5

Ascended Dead

Hard to believe we’re approaching the halfway point of another year, and yet here we are in May, thinking about the mid-year and how we’re going to fit all the excellent stuff so far into a reasonable length list. There’s always too much music, a wonderful problem, but a problem all the same. And so we turn again to Dust to burn off some of the excess. As usual, the reviews run the gamut, from lucid ambient reveries to blistering industrial mayhem, from joyful death metal (surely a contradiction in terms?) to ragged improvised noise. Contributors this time include Ian Mathers, Andrew Forell, Jonathan Shaw, Tim Clarke, Bill Meyer, Christian Carey Jennifer Kelly, Bryon Hayes and Jim Marks.

Aarktica — Paeans (Projekt)

Paeans by Aarktica

One of the most distinct and striking things about Jon DeRosa’s work as Aarktica has always been the way he blends more ‘pure’ ambient material with songs, both his own and others (everyone from Danzig to Peruvian shamanic songwriter Artur Mena). The new Paeans actually marks the first Aarktica LP without DeRosa’s vocals since his debut, 2000’s No Solace for Sleep. Coming on the heels of last year’s magnificent We Will Find the Light, this record could have just felt like a post-banquet digestif, but instead it’s a reminder of the beautiful, clear atmospheres DeRosa can make with just his guitar (here ably assisted by Henrik Meierkord on cello and viola). Whether it’s going Ashra-stratospheric on “Arcturan Transmission” or drifting towards Stars of the Lid on “Golden Hour at Pyramid House,” the result is a reminder of how vital his ambient work is.

Ian Mathers

Antimaterial Worlds — Double Saturns Last Purification Exercises (Chemical X)

Double Saturns Last Purification Exercises by ANTIMATERIAL WORLDS

Gaura-jīvana Dāsa has a long history of industrial noise making under various names and degrees of success. His latest incarnation, as Antimaterial Worlds, combines the raucous noise of past projects Skull Catalog and Sewn Leather with his learnings from several years of immersion in Vedic religious studies. The results will do little to win converts to either enterprise. Musically, Double Saturns Last Purification Exercises clings to lesser Nine Inch Nails flailing whilst the lyrics swing from masochistic self-abnegation to that peculiar form of So-Cal spiritual sadism that seeks to purge the penitent while scourging the sinner. The “Kill them all and let God sort them out” forgets that hubris is a powerful enemy for the faithful but if you like your prophets wild-eyed, messianic and slinging guitars instead of lightning bolts and locusts, have at it.

Andrew Forell

Ascended Dead — Evenfall of the Apocalypse (20 Buck Spin)

Evenfall of the Apocalypse by Ascended Dead

Evenfall of the Apocalypse comprises 42 minutes of perversely joyous Metal ov Death. Not much else to tell you, folks. The four San Diego-based musicians in Ascended Dead continue their project of making songs that cleave to the verities of the Old School, which they have come by honestly: drummer C. Koryn and bass player Kevin Schreutelkamp have put in time in the live bands of Blasphemy, Incantation and Morbid Angel, death metal legends, all. In Ascended Dead, that rhythm section is joined by guitarists Ian Lawrence and Jon Reider, and the requisite whirling chaos commences. It’s a lot of fun. Every song is overstuffed with riffs and ideas, all constantly on the verge of collapsing into noisome, rotten goo. Koryn’s drumming keeps them coherent (mostly, anyways) and coaxes them into increasingly wacky shapes, building toward the next semi-blackened guitar break or bout of psychotic shredding. There’s nothing innovative or risk-taking here, but it's nimbly composed, confidently executed and always on the move. The shorter tunes (“Nexus of the Black Flame,” “Bestial Vengeance”) are especially effective. They arrive, they mess up your mind, they’re gone. Come back and do it again, please.

Jonathan Shaw

Chained to the Bottom of the Ocean — Obsession Destruction (Redscroll Records)

Obsession Destruction by Chained to the Bottom of the Ocean

There’s not a tremendous amount of range in sludge metal, so it makes sense that Massachusetts band Chained to the Bottom of the Ocean seems to have derived its name by altering the title of a song (“Fucking Chained to the Bottom of the Ocean”) from Thou, perhaps the best sludge band to make misery-inducing music since Eyehategod. But’s there’s a line to be drawn between recognition of one’s artistic idols and pastiche, and Chained to the Bottom of the Ocean steps right along it — or crawls, or trudges, as the case may be. Songs like “Summer Comes to Multiply” and “Every Day a Weeping Curse” sound a whole lot like…Thou. This reviewer responds, at a profound gut level, to those tones and rhythmic structures, so he can dig a tune like “Ten Thousand Years of Unending Failure.” Ironically, it succeeds. It’s crushing and thrilling and huge, and it closes with an entertainingly daft lyric couplet: “When obsession takes over I’ll be fine / When destruction takes over I’ll decide.” Is that nihilism? A sort of fist-clenched catharsis? The aggro intensities of the music can accommodate both, creating a pretty good set of emotive qualities for a sludge song. Why decide, dudes?

Jonathan Shaw

Clark — Sus Dog (Throttle)

Sus Dog by Clark

Clark’s most recent releases have been dominated by soundtracks and neo-classical work (2021’s Playground In A Lake and 2019’s Kiri Variations are especially beautiful). On his new album, Sus Dog, he returns to an electronically dominated palette, introduces his own voice as a key element, and even gets Thom Yorke on board as executive producer. Yorke’s involvement is obviously a drawcard for anyone interested in the Radiohead frontman’s oeuvre, with the overall sound of Sus Dog largely in the vein of Yorke’s last solo album, Anima. Clark’s voice is similar to Caribou’s Dan Snaith in its timbre and the way it sits in the mix, while squiggly synthesizer lines and pounding drum breaks carry the music forward with aplomb. However, it’s Sus Dog’s down-tempo moments that really shine, such as the title track, featuring guest vocals from Anika; “Medicine,” featuring Yorke on bass and vocals; and the piano-driven closer, “Ladder,” which repeats the striking vocal refrain, “Living on a ladder, stuck between two floors.”

Tim Clarke

The Electric Nature — Old World Die Must (Feeding Tube / NULL|ZØNE)

Old World Die Must by The Electric Nature

The Electric Nature is a free noise trio which is based in Athens, GA. Improvisation is baked into their methodology, but that doesn’t mean that they serve up raw jams. This album, which is a rare vinyl outing in their mostly cassette/digital discography, contains just two, side-long tracks, but includes sounds made between 2015 and 2022. Given the density of their sound, one suspects that Michael Potter, Michael Piece and Thom Strickland, who are jointly credited with guitars, synths, drums and recordings, add tapes of earlier performances to the one at hand. But don’t get the idea that these guys are snakes swallowing their collective tail; they’re decidedly open to outside input. “Enter Chapel Perilous” opens with the croaks of some swamp denizens, and then turns the spotlight over to Sunwatchers saxophonist Jeff Tobias, whose long, furry tones clear the path for the eventual battering assault. The trio is likewise augmented on the flip side’s titular performance by John Kiran Fernandes, whose clarinet adds a Morricone-esque dimension to the late-night squall. Times are tough nowadays — sometimes it takes a village to whip up some solar wind.

Bill Meyer

Feather Beds — Softer Measures (Strange Brew)

Softer Measures by Feather Beds

Feather Beds is the experimental pop project of Irish musician Michael Orange, and on his new album, Softer Measures, he pushes things to perverse extremes. The album title seems to allude to the music’s raw materials being endlessly pliable, able to be squashed and stretched into new forms. There are identifiably pop-leaning tunes here, but often buried beneath effects and refracted through a funhouse mirror. Predictably it’s the two singles, “Really Disney” and “Sport of Boxing,” that offer the most immediate gratification, but even then, things get weird, a la early Animal Collective or Ronald Jones-era Flaming Lips. “Sport of Boxing,” for example, is a jangly lo-fi pop tune that hurtles along at an addictive clip, only to be swallowed up by chittering digital loops. Indeed, there’s something decidedly nightmarish about the way the songs refuse to follow the path you might imagine. Rhythms stutter and stumble, guitar tones warp in and out of tune, voices circle eerily and overlap one another. All the chaos renders moments of calm, such as the end of “We Safari,” uncannily beautiful.

Tim Clarke

The High Strung — Address Unknown (Paper Thin)

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The High Strung makes a kind of trebly, warbly, high energy garage pop pioneered by the Seeds and the Flaming Groovies and rediscovered during the aughts “rock is back” era by the Cynics, the Gripweeds and the Insomniacs. It’s not quite bubblegum, but it’s got a fair lacing of sweetness, and it’s hard to do well without slipping into saccharine cliché. Address Unknown is the band’s 11th album, following several decades together, through multiple line-ups and one major breakthrough: a song in opening credits of the Showtime series Shameless. It is everything you’d expect from a band of lifers—tight and relaxed at the same time, sure of itself but not particularly concerned about reception, and utterly charming. I like “Different Animal” the best, with its pounding beat and fluttering tunefulness, its clever rhymes and loopy harmonies. It’s the single and the video, and you can see why they focused on it, but there’s plenty of other good stuff as well. “Overcoat and Skis” with its Beatles-esque tootling keyboard and its wistful upward lilting melody, seems loose and casual until you recognize the sharpness of the ski-themed writing. (“It’s all downhill from here.”) “Run It Back” rocks harder, in a one-two punching way, but never abandons its tipsy whimsy, like XTC but rougher. Here’s a band neither torqued too tight nor slouched too low, but just a little high strung.

Jennifer Kelly

Joseph Jarman-Don Moye feat. Craig Harris & Rafael Garrett — Earth Passage-Density (Eargong)

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By the early 1980s, when this album was recorded, the Art Ensemble Of Chicago spent a lot of their time playing music in other settings. On Earth Passage-Density, percussionist Don Moye and woodwinds multi-threat Joseph Jarman joined forces with Craig Harris, a trombone and digeridoo player who was active on several New York scenes, and Rafael Garrett, a bass and winds player who one worked with John Coltrane on the mind-melter, Om. Originally released by Black Saint and recently re-pressed by Eargong, this session shows the same breadth of reach as the AEC without shortchanging the creativity of Garrett and Harris. Patient development balances jump-cut transitional strategies and Brownian rhythmic urgency as they work their way through ceremonial dirges, angular bop, and gleefully chaotic funk. If you have any appreciation for the Art Ensemble’s pre-ECM recordings and haven’t heard this record yet, well, why are you being so hard on yourself?

Bill Meyer

Rob Mazurek and Exploding Star Orchestra – Lightning Dreamers (Rogue Art)

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Rob Mazurek enlists a formidable lineup for Lightning Dreamers, Exploding Star Orchestra’s latest recording, including instrumentalists Jeff Parker, Nicole Mitchell, Craig Taborn, Gerald Cleaver, and Angelica Sanchez. Damon Locks provides futurist lyrics and intoned vocals, taking the lead on “Future Shaman.” Mazurek’s cornet solo on the spacy “Dream Sleeper” is a standout, mellifluous and melodically inventive. The supple groove and doubled melodies on “Shape Shifter” demonstrate the groups allied affinities to fusion and modern jazz. Add in hat tips to the Arkestra, as on the paired pieces “Black River” and “White River,” and a fulsome brew is concocted.

Christian Carey

Miranda and the Beat — S-T (Ernest Jennings)

Miranda And The Beat by Miranda and The Beat

“Sweat!” shouts Miranda Zipse in the opening salvo to this very strong album, as a soul-powered guitar snakes through surges of 1960s organs. She sounds like a long-lost Bond opening credit singer, from the Connery era no less, but she formed her band only a few years ago with her childhood friend Kim Sollecito, after dropping out of high school at 15. Now, she wields an astonishing belt, a swaggering style and a crack band of retro-maximalists. She’s caught the attention of another 1960s soul vamper, King Khan, who enthused, “I never thought I would see someone be able to play guitar with the ferocity of Link Wray, and sing like Lydia Lunch had a nuclear meltdown and morphed into Etta James and Yma Sumac.” Too much? Maybe, but “I’m Not Your Baby” swells and roars, surf guitar cascading through a Spector-esque wall of sound. “Concrete” cranks the tension with stuttering high-hat and drum—and blasts out of the blocks with a battering bass line. “Listen to the sound of the kids that are hanging out on the street,” she spits against the rough beat, and who knew that the kids would sound like this?

Jennifer Kelly

Olololop, Arakawa Atsushi And Zea — Soyokaze (Makkum)

Soyokaze by Olololop, Arakawa Atsushi and Zea

The Japanese trio Olololop plays electronic and acoustic percussion, and their compatriot Arakawa Atsushi manages electronics; one of them also plays a credible saxophone. They encountered Zea, the nom-du-rock of singer-guitarist Arnold de Boer (also of the Ex), at a Dutch music festival. Impelled by mutual appreciation, they flipped on some microphones and improvised a session which doesn’t fit easily into anyone’s pigeonhole, and is better off for it. Beats sputter, reeds and synth sputter, and at one point a poem drifts through the proceedings like a half-remembered dream. This music is a thing unto itself, beholden to no genre, but infused with the delight of jumping right in and finding out that you can swim.

Bill Meyer

Joakim Rainer Trio — Light Sentence (Sonic Transmissions)

Light.Sentence by Joakim Rainer Trio

It must be daunting for any young musician to pick a point of entry into jazz these days. Joakim Rainer Petersen, the leader of this Norwegian piano trio, has chosen wisely. While he may not be as distinctive a composer as Kris Davis or Andrew Hill, his interest in their music helps to steer his own towards expressions of formal logic that are open to improvisational reassessment at any moment. He and bassist Alexander Risis sound like they’re completing each other’s ideas, but not by adding one guy’s statements to the other’s; no, their ideas cohere like two people saying parts of the same sentence. Drummer Rino Sivathas keeps things moving with a nicely splashy attack that keeps the moments of reflection from bogging down. Word has it that this combo tours, at least in Europe; keep your eyes and ears peeled.

Bill Meyer

Roser Monforte Trio — Landscape Songs (Self-Release)

LANDSCAPE SONGS, RM TRIO by RM TRIO

This slightly unusual trio lineup delivers jazz with a prog twist. Monforte has a big sound but gives drummer Jordi Pallarés and guitarist Pau Mainé plenty of space to realize her highly polished but uncluttered compositions.

The first two tracks, “Once upon a Time” and “Horses,” blend together into a suite that shows the group at its best. It begins with over a minute of unaccompanied guitar, which, as throughout the album, Mainé plays clean and with restraint. Pallarés is boisterous once he gets going, producing a wide range of sounds out of what looks like a fairly standard jazz kit, though well appointed with cymbals, in online videos. The leader eases into the tune around the minute-and-a-half mark with a catchy descending lick, and they’re off. Pallarés takes a solo at the transition between the tunes that is followed by the introduction of a new, serpentine theme and a neat shift in tempo, and the suite draws to a close with a funky vamp and a revisitation of the serpentine theme.

The rest of the tunes are nearly as memorable and fairly concise, most running three to five minutes. There’s plenty of variation, with “Cosmic Dancer” and “Orixa” straying into exotica and fusion territory, the lovely ballads “Absence” and “Baraka” slowing things down, and the rousing “anTANAnarivo” and “Atzutac” sure to set toes tapping.

Jim Marks

Tomten — Artichoke (Plume)

Artichoke by Tomten

Tomten’s songs billow and swell in that frictionless, effortless way that often indicates great care and craft. The Seattle-based band makes heavy use of keyboards—organs and synthesizers for instance—for lulling sustained tones that envelop and soften rock song architectures. The surf rock swagger of “Lizard in the Grass” comes wrapped in a dream pop shimmer. “Grapefruit Sea” the opener and early single, has the rolling gait and spiraling psychedelic expansiveness of a Grand Archive cut (it reminds me of “Sleepdriving,” always a good thing). The lyrics are better than they need to be, with precise and evocative natural imagery scattered across the disc, poppies and wild heather and mallow weeds. The whole thing feels like a pleasant dream, radiant but fuzzy at the edges.

Jennifer Kelly

Volcano the Bear — Amateur Shakes (Volucan)

Amateur Shakes by Volcano The Bear

A new Volcano the Bear album is cause for celebration among fans of strange sounds. Unfortunately, even though it arrived this year, Amateur Shakes doesn’t comprise recent music. The Leicester-based Dadaists laid these songs to tape at the tail end of the 2000s, prior to the release their final official album, Golden Rhythm / Ink Music in 2012. Timeline aside, this is a notable release for the band. Recorded with Andreas Schmid at Faust Studios and with Hans-Joachim Irmler producing, this is some of their best-sounding and most surreal music. Like in a Burroughs novel, thematic elements explored on past records reappear in these songs’ lyrics, which are sung, croaked and howled. The group have dialed back their signature avant-jazz and polka leanings, leaving room for their less-frequented outré rock tendencies to shine through. The lengthier, multi-part songs “Amateurs Blind” and “Classic Clarence Fusion” somehow come across as the most accessible, with the other tracks absorbing the experimentalist influences of the studio. There’s an uncanny symbiosis going on here, but can it really be a coincidence that a proximity to Faust has intensified the band’s already kooky demeanor? This writer thinks not.

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incarnateirony · 1 year

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Lateralus: Original Flavor.

I really do want to encourage people to run this gamut especially now that Jojo and co keep tweeting out the spiral/evolution element (that the whole damn project was based on), even if it's the old foundational one and not even the S15 or mailed updates or whatever. Only Reflection and Grudge were remastered, for Reasons. But this still plays out timelessly. Remember I kept saying leakylike about if you had the chance to do it again, would you, before Mary said it? I been teasing about who has the clock?

vimeo

No seriously. I keep telling everyone, the videos, the posts I'm dropping aren't. fucking. spec. Where is Dean. We're running out of time.

Lyrics inside.

Black then white are All I see In my infancy Red and yellow then came to be Reaching out to me Lets me see

As below so above and beyond I imagine Drawn beyond the lines of reason Push the envelope Watch it bend

Over thinking, over analyzing, separates the body from the mind Withering my intuition, missing opportunities and I must Feed my will to feel my moment Drawing way outside the lines

Black then white are All I see In my infancy Red and yellow then came to be Reaching out to me Lets me see

There is so much more and Beckons me To look through to these Infinite possibilities

As below so above and beyond I imagine Drawn outside the lines of reason Push the envelope Watch it bend

Over thinking, over analyzing, separates the body from the mind Withering my intuition, leaving opportunities behind

Feed my will to feel this moment Urging me to cross the line Reaching out to embrace the random Reaching out to embrace whatever may come

I embrace my desire to I embrace my desire to Feel the rhythm To feel connected Enough to step aside and Weep like a widow To feel inspired To fathom the power To witness the beauty To bathe in the fountain To swing on the spiral To swing on the spiral

To swing on the spiral Of our divinity and Still be a human

With my feet upon the ground I lose myself between the sounds And open wide to suck it in I feel it move across my skin I'm reaching up and reaching out I'm reaching for the random or Whatever will bewilder me Whatever will bewilder me And following our will and wind We may just go where no one's been We'll ride the spiral to the end And may just go where no one's been

Spiral out, keep going Spiral out, keep going Spiral out, keep going Spiral out, keep going

#lateralus project #winchesters codex #lateralus original flavor #still relevant #i hate it here #why am i always at the core of causality tornados #role for psychic damage with the end vs winchesters first promos #enjoy

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nickcarr-scoutstories · 1 year

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It’s one in the morning on a Friday night and I’m cold and cranky and I’ve been standing in front of a donut stand where we’ve been filming for hours, and all of a sudden, a mime is coming toward me, and I’m honestly not sure I have the patience left to deal with a mime.

Because this donut is stand is not just a donut stand.

Yes, look through the picture windows and you’ll see that every square inch is taken up by racks of trays jammed with every type of donut imaginable, jockeyed out to customers by two sweaty, exhausted clerks.

But go around to the back, and you’ll see two doors. One leads into the donut stand’s kitchen. The other leads to one of the worst kept secrets in the city.

In the basement is a speakeasy-style club with no official name. If that was once an attempt to keep it unknown, a non-stop nightly stream of celebrity clientele certainly did away with any hope of anonymity years ago.

Normally, a very tall, very burly bouncer is stationed at this door, and to get in, you have to either Be Somebody, or Look Like You’re Somebody. Except that there is no bouncer tonight, because the club is closed for our shoot.

Yet patrons keep coming. And so I’ve become the bouncer.

I was afraid of this. Earlier in the day, when the owner opens up so we could begin our prep work, I ask if he has made any announcement that the club will be closed.

“This oughta do it,” he says, and produces a single sheet of 8.5×11 white paper with “CLOSED FOR FILMING” written across in about 24 pt font. He tapes it to the door, then leaves, saying he had to go tend to his pet alligator (I assume he is joking, but later evidence suggests he might actually have a pet alligator in his apartment).

The sign does not do it. In fact, it gets knocked down and blows away in the first hour as the grips load in.

Normally, a film crew would be an obvious enough presence to ward off approaching clubbers. But we’re starting our night at a different location a few blocks away, and won’t move the company here until at least 3 AM. With little activity, the club door looks just as it would on a normal night.

And so it falls on me to turn away customers. For hours, I’m approached aspiring entrants who think I’m the bouncer they need to impress, all trying to prevail in the Look Like You’re Somebody category. Chic, sheer, slutty, trashy, hip, stylish – each new arrival merits a fresh round of adjectives.

But the strangest thing unites each encounter. Despite the individuality and uniqueness and creativity in their dress, the confidence they carry themselves with, the casualness with which they ask if there’s room to get in tonight –

What follows is the eye contact with me to gauge my assessment. And uniformly, in that eye contact is a pleading, a desperation, a vulnerability that undermines the entire aura they’re attempting to project. Like everything they’ve done is worthless until I deem it worthy. Will I deem them worthy?

Unfortunately, I have to deem everyone unworthy tonight. And honestly, I feel terrible. Everyone has clearly worked hard, and it sucks to have to tell them it’s all been for nothing.

The responses run the gamut. Some look like they’re going to cry. Some get angry. Many are too high to care. The funniest are the ones who think this is some elaborate ruse to turn away unwanted guests, and argue with me that there is no filming in the club.

It’s been quiet now for a while, and for a moment, I think that maybe I’m in the clear. Then I see the mime.

To be clear, I see his date first as she comes around the corner. She’s tall, blond, wears an unbelievable black evening dress. Then the mime appears behind her.

The mime is exactly what you picture when you hear the word mime. He wears a red beret. His face is painted white, with black lipstick and the little black triangles under his eyes. He has a red scarf, red suspenders, a black shirt, black vest, and black dress pants.

Before I can say a word, the mime instantly breaks into pantomime. He indicates that he wants me to Open The Door so he can Go Downstairs to Have A Drink and then Dance.

I pause, not sure how to respond. His date smiles as he acts out each beat. She could not be more charmed.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so, so sorry but the club is closed tonight. We’re filming a movie.” I indicate my walkie-talkie.

The mime considers this. Then, he makes a “tut-tut” motion with his index finger, and does the Open The Door pantomime again, this time, with an Unlocking addition.

As he’s doing this, I realize that he thinks this will be his in. That rather than fight the hopeless battle for Most Stylish or Sexiest, perhaps being Most Eccentric will allow him to cut the line.

“I’m telling the truth,” I say. “It’s really closed. You’re going to have to go somewhere else.”

“Wait. You’re serious?” asks the girl, and suddenly she’s very upset.

“I don’t understand,” says the mime angrily, breaking character for the first time. “Why weren’t we notified?”

“Notified? Do you mean like, call you personally?” I ask, confused.

“Well, no. I just mean like, put the word out or something.”

“Well, I think the owner put out a sign,” I say, looking everywhere for the printed sheet. “But I absolutely agree. I think the problem is, the place doesn’t even have a name, let alone a website, so there just isn’t a good way to do that.”

“Well, I just think what you did is terrible,” says the girl, glaring at me. She grabs the mime’s arm. “Come on. We’ll find somewhere else to go.” The mime shakes his head angrily at me, then follows her off.

As I watch them disapear into the night, it occurs to me that up until just a few moments ago, this man had had firmly believed that tonight, he was going to be validated as Somebody.

And now, he is just a guy in a mime costume wandering the city at one in the morning.

Please follow/like/share if you enjoyed!

More stories: nickcarr.com

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europaprisonmoon · 1 year

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Another goblin from my RPG supplement, The Goblin Market. Betony Plangent-Hawthorne has been uncharitably described as a “geometric cheetah”, and while the comment is as blunt as it is unwelcome, it’s not entirely inaccurate.

She offers therapeutic umbramantic counselling session for shadows: your shadow may feel they have been neglected, and may wish to give vent to their feelings in her specially equipped pavilion; Betony has set up an extraordinary array of lamps throughout her canopied office, allowing a person’s shadow to walk around freely and communicate with her – should it so choose.

It’s important to note that Betony does not consider you to be her customer, and instead refers to living beings that cast shadows using unhelpful (and slightly insulting) names like “the Object” or “the Mount” or even “eclipses”, whereas shadows are “celebrated Projections”. If your shadow should vanish unexpectedly in the Market, chances are good that they have gone to Betony’s tent for an appointment.

Betony dresses in stark, black and white abstract ensembles which are run the full-gamut from understated to striking. She drinks lavender tea with a pinch of meadowsweet, and no one has the slightest idea what payment she extracts from shadows, but she never seems to be strapped for resources.

Plot Hooks:

Your shadow has been a lot more… active since they spoke with Betony. Out of the corner of your eye, you see it moving when you do not. You no longer feel comfortable falling asleep. What did she say to it?

Something snuffed out all the lamps in Betony’s tent the other day, and when she managed to re-light them, her customer was missing. Betony approaches you discreetly to discover where the shadow has gotten to: she refuses to reveal who the shadow’s “Object” is, but makes dark warnings about what this “kidnapping” will mean for the future, and how it will undoubtedly begin to affect the Object’s mind and body.

Betony’s tent has become surrounded by a strange fungal bloom of dark, purple capped mushrooms. These are some strange invaders from the Shadow Plane, but anyone who raises a hand to try and clear them away feels a strange, overpowering lassitude falling over them.

#goblinweek #goblin week #the goblin market #rpg #ttrpg

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afrobeatsindacity · 2 years

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NEW ALBUM: IDAHAMS - TRUTH, LOVE & CONFESSIONS

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Two years on from his critically acclaimed sophomore EP Man On Fire, which has seen the fast-rising Afropop musician garner over 40 million plays online, three top 10 singles on Music Week’s UK Black Music Chart, and strong support from the likes of BBC 1Xtra, Apple Music and Spotify, Nigerian singer, songwriter and producer Idahams is excited to unveil his highly anticipated debut album titled Truth, Love & Confessions.

Led by the buzzing chart-climbing single "Bad Girl", which was engineered by Grammy Award-winning producer Vtek, Truth, Love & Confessions is a masterful 13-track album that runs the gamut of soundscapes, from pop and R&B to highlife and afrobeats, over which Idahams bares himself open for the listener about his life and times, his relationships, the climate crisis in his hometown, pressures of chasing success, and his near-death experience at the hands of the Nigerian police, among other real-life experiences over the past two years that have fuelled the making of this album.

Speaking about the inspiration behind his Truth, Love & Confessions album, Idahams says, “Recording the 'Truth, Love and Confession' album was quite a journey. It took almost two years to record, and I’ve musically documented my life, environment, and personal experiences in the album. As a young man who has gone through life, I believe some of my stories on this album will connect with people. It is a very relatable project and I have opened myself up for people to see, I’ve also made sure I maintained my true essence as an artist, a musician and entertainer”.

Click HERE to stream and download Truth, Love & Confessions

Watch, Share and Enjoy “Bad Girl”

Follow @AfrobeatsCity on Facebook | Instagram | Twitter

#Afrobeats #Afrobeats City #Idahams #Africa #African music #Bad Girl #Music #New music #Nigeria #Nigerian music #Truth Love & Confessions #Afrobeats London #Youtube

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niannianyabao · 2 years

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Nope

In interviews and promotional materials for his third movie, Nope, writer-director Jordan Peele has explained that the watchword for this project was "spectacle". After two years of pandemic-mandated movie theater closures, and filmmakers' growing fears that audiences would get used to the convenience (and safety) of streaming and give up on the cinematic experience, Peele's goal was to make a counter-argument. To create an experience as much as a story. On one level, it can't be denied that he has succeeded. Nope is chock-full of vivid and memorable imagery, cannily uses cinematic devices to evoke everything from dread to delight, and, in its last hour, delivers thrilling, pulse-pounding action. But this is still a Jordan Peele movie, which means that there's a barb hidden in all that celebration. For all that it is dedicated to spectacle, Nope is simultaneously engaged in analyzing what a desire for spectacle says about us, and about the people who produce it.

The story is set in and around a southern California ranch that trains and wrangles horses for Hollywood productions. A black-owned family business whose owners, the Haywood family, pride themselves on being descended from the first person ever to appear in a motion picture, a black jockey riding a horse. The ranch is currently run by OJ[1] (Daniel Kaluuya), with the grudging assistance of his sister Emerald (Keke Palmer). The two are polar opposites: Emerald is bubbly and outgoing, while OJ is taciturn and withdrawn—qualities that have only intensified since the sudden death of the siblings' father (Keith David) six months earlier, in a bizarre accident in which small personal items like coins and keys rained down from the sky at lethal speeds. In the wake of that loss, the ranch is struggling, and while OJ remains devoted to his duty to the business and the animals, Emerald is more skeptical. While Emerald pushes her brother to sell the ranch, he has resorted to selling some of his stock—temporarily, he insists—to a nearby amusement park, run by Ricky "Jupe" Park (Steven Yeun), a former child actor still trying to monetize his short-lived stardom in a Western movie from the 90s.

As the argument between the siblings brews and repeats for what is likely far from the first time, the film's McGuffin establishes itself. OJ, in pursuit of an escaped horse, glimpses something saucer-shaped darting through the clouds over the ranch. Here is where Nope sets itself apart from all the other movies of its type (including the ones, like Signs or Close Encounters of the Third Kind, that it explicitly references). OJ and Emerald experience the gamut of emotions one might expect from people who have glimpsed the impossible—disbelief, excitement, terror, wonder. But their focus, and that of the film, is not on survival, escape, or even mere proof. What the siblings want isn't to alert the world to the existence of aliens, but to reap the benefits of being first on the ground. To capture a cinematic-quality image of an extraterrestrial that will allow them to write their own ticket, putting themselves at the center of what is sure to be a media maelstrom.

Other people soon join the project—Angel (Brandon Perea), a bored tech store employee whom the siblings hire to install CCTV cameras and who becomes obsessed when he realizes what they're looking for; Antlers Holst (Michael Wincott), a wunderkind cinematographer who intersperses commercial work with nature documentaries, for whom this is his greatest challenge. Even as it becomes clear that the aliens are dangerous—as horses, and eventually people, disappear in extremely gruesome ways—this impromptu film crew remain united in the conviction that getting, as OJ puts it, The Shot, is as important as the world-shattering significance of the thing they're shooting.

Of Peele's three movies, Nope is the most messy—multiple themes and ideas, such as OJ and Emerald's dispute over the fate of the farm, are established early in the movie only to be dropped as it approaches its conclusion, and some plot points don't bear much scrutiny—and the one with the least going on beneath the surface—arguably the film's entire thesis has been summed up in its title. That it is nevertheless a thrilling, engrossing experience comes down, first and foremost, to Peele's skill as a director. Hollywood has classed Peele as a horror director (more precisely, as a non-horror-fan's horror director), but while there are some gruesome and terrifying images and ideas in Nope, its overall affect isn't that of horror. The film it most reminded me of, in fact, was its release-date neighbor Prey, with whom it shares several similarities (while also being, in several key respects, complete opposites). Nope does Prey one better, however, in how it slowly reveals and develops its alien menace, starting out with cryptic images (those ballistic coins and keys), moving on to barely-perceptible shadows, and progressively drawing back the curtain until its final scenes feature breathtaking images of some of the most imaginative and mind-blowing creature work I've seen on screen.[2]

It's that gonzo inventiveness that convinces me of something I've suspected since at least Us, that whatever other genres he chooses to filter his ideas through, Peele is first and foremost a fantasy writer. I'm using "fantasy" in its broadest sense, encompassing things like Nope and Get Out's SFnal McGuffins. What ties all three of Peele's movies together is the depth and specificity of their worldbuidling, the details and storytelling cul-de-sacs that he introduces in order to make their worlds richer, weirder, and more compelling.

There's no better example of this in Nope than the backstory Peele gives to Jupe, and how he elaborates on it. After his Western film, we learn, Jupe starred in a sitcom called Gordy's Home—basically, ALF with a chimpanzee.[3] That production came to an abrupt end when the normally friendly Gordy brutally attacked the cast and crew. The story of this catastrophe is related twice. When OJ and Emerald ask the older Jupe—who keeps a museum dedicated to the show in a hidden room in his office, complete with such gruesome mementos as his co-star's bloodied sneaker, to which he admits paying aficionados—he explains that the ordeal was best captured in an SNL skit parodying it, and then begins rhapsodizing about how well Chris Kattan embodied Gordy. When the film flashes back to the event, it is, unsurprisingly, a horror show (even as the gory specifics are left off-screen), one that has clearly left Jupe deeply traumatized. The juxtaposition of the two scenes not only makes for some typically excellent Peele vignettes, but brings home just how messed up Jupe is in the present. How, for reasons of both financial necessity and his own warped psyche, he has found himself repackaging and selling the most horrible thing that ever happened to him.

As this story and the centrality of the horse ranch suggest, one of the ideas Nope is interested in is the relationship between humans and animals, and especially those relationships that are utilitarian, exploitative, or adversarial. The film is divided into chapters, titled after various animals—the horses at the ranch, or Gordy. The point of that scheme becomes apparent halfway through the movie, when OJ figures out that the shape in the clouds is not a ship, and not an intelligent being, but an animal, driven by instinctual urges such as rage, territoriality, and most of all hunger. Jupe, it transpires, learned nothing from standing in the wreckage of past attempts to monetize a wild animal, and has incorporated the alien into a weekly show in which he feeds OJ's horses to it. That comes to a head when the alien, enraged by OJ and Emerald's attempts to trap it with decoys, swallows the entire audience of Jupe's show (not enough can be said about how Peele realizes this sequence, including some extremely disturbing post-consumption scenes that suggest horrors with a very minimalistic set and props). Having realized what their target is just as it loses all inhibition, OJ, Emerald, and their crew are faced with a stark choice of outcomes: get the shot, or get eaten.

As a central theme to the movie, this leaves something to be desired. Not to get all CinemaSins about it, but the idea of a an animal who has been happily subsisting off one or two horses a week, who suddenly consumes dozens of people, and then comes back for more the next day, shatters my suspension of disbelief to a million pieces. It's a glaring plot hole smack in the middle of what is supposed to be the film's major conceptual twist. More importantly, Nope simply has nothing to say about the emotional connections that humans and animals form, even in the most inhospitable of situations. For all his sense of duty to the animals in his care, OJ doesn't seem to like the horses very much. And no one in the audience of Jupe's shows, which have been going on for months, seems to have had any issues about watching a horse get devoured.[4]

When OJ figures out that the alien is an animal, he insists that his work as a trainer makes him uniquely suited to wrangling it—he even dubs it Jean Jacket, after the first movie horse he trained. But this ends up playing very few dividends. Despite OJ's insistence that he can "break" the alien[5], what he mainly does is evade and outrun it, while giving Angel and Antlers a good shot. To bring this back to Prey, it feels telling that despite the two films pointing their arrows of predator/prey, animal/person in the exact opposite directions, they end up delivering the exact same type of story in their final acts.

It's more interesting, I think, to consider the animal angle as merely one facet of a much broader theme, that of Hollywood and its periphery. Nope embodies that classic movie trope, the "love letter to Hollywood". But it never shows us the white-hot core of stardom, only the businesses and people that have sprung up to service it, feeding off it and being fed on in turn. It's a film about how living around the entertainment industry can warp your life even if you have nothing to do with it—Angel is at loose ends and willing to be sucked into OJ and Emerald's objectively bonkers project because his girlfriend recently dumped him after booking a pilot for the CW.[6] It's about people who experienced stardom briefly and were left unfit for any other kind of work—among the memorabilia littering Jupe's office is a poster for a reality series starring him and his wife, Amber (Wrenn Schmidt), as if to indicate that his only marketable skill is having once been famous. And it's about a whole host of different groups whose abuse and exploitation are necessary for the Hollywood machine to function. Which includes animals, of course, but also child stars, small businesses, and people of color.

OJ and Emerald's determination to get footage of the alien—even after they realize what it is; even after a torrent of blood and expelled undigestible items showers their house; at the point where any sane person would get in their car and just keep driving—can only be understood in the context of that relationship. Of their bone-deep understanding that while people like them are, in the aggregate, utterly essential for Hollywood's survival, on an individual level, they are completely disposable.

The film's title references the running online meme—one that is frequently framed as a reaction by black people to what's been termed "white nonsense"—of watching someone find themselves in the middle of a dangerous situation and, instead of having the good sense to back away from trouble, walk towards it with their cellphone camera turned on.[7] But here, it's the black characters who are putting themselves in danger for the sake of getting the shot. What the film suggests is that they are doing this because they realize that it is their only chance of sharing in the rewards that have passed them by. As Emerald points out, most film buffs know the name of the photgrapher who created the first moving image, but only she and her family know the name of the person captured in it. Nope is the least overtly political of Peele's movies, but it's hard not to think of the fact that in the last decade, a very common form of black "stardom" has been in videos documenting black people's suffering, humiliation, and even death, and wonder whether the siblings' determination to film the alien is a desire to take control of the narrative in a world where people like them are more often the subjects of it.

This doesn't always work, to be clear. Nope wants us to be simultaneously won over and scandalized by the way its characters risk life and limb for the sake of a viral video, but it often overshoots the mark. When Jupe announces to his audience that he has dubbed the aliens "The Viewers", it's hard not to groan—it's a joke that seems to have come from a different, more strongly satirical version of this story. The ending the film gives to Antlers is similarly over the top. And a sequence in the third act, in which a motorcycle-riding TMZ reporter (Devon Graye), his face obscured by a mirrored helmet, arrives on the ranch in the wake of the disappearances at Jupe's looking to score his own scoop, and keeps crying out "where's my camera?" after an encounter with the alien leaves him broken and near death, is a narrative dead end that runs the point the film is making into the ground.

Still, at its best, the final act of Nope is a dizzying balancing act, a thrilling sequence of clever planning, sudden reversals, and acts of derring-do that you can't help but root for, even as you're constantly reminded of how stupid and pointless it all is. In a lull before their final attempt to get footage of the alien kicks off, Angel nervously asks the other characters whether they're doing a good thing. They all say yes, but there's a palpable lack of conviction. This is about making bank and they all know it. While you can sympathize with all four characters' desire to, for once, grab the rewards that have eluded them, by the time the film approaches its end, when it's still unclear who, if anyone, has survived, you can't help tasting something bitter in your mouth. The triumph of finally getting The Shot is a mixed one, and when the dust clears and and we learn who has survived and who hasn't, it's hard not to feel that survival, for all that we like the characters and want them to endure, is also entirely unearned.

That's probably the intended response. This is, after all, a movie that opens with an epigraph of a biblical quote from the prophet Nahum, equating spectacle with horror. Nope's heroes embody the Hollywood ideal of being whole-heartedly devoted to moviemaking magic. By the time the credits roll, it's hard to avoid the conclusion that they are also all monsters.

[1] There's a joke here, but it's a fairly thin one that is made almost as soon as the character is introduced and then never comes up again.

[2] A similar transformation can be observed in Kaluuya's performance, which starts out tamping down on the actor's charisma to deliver a utilitarian, place-holding performance that almost feels like a waste of his skills, and gradually blossoms into a very specific, and incredibly winning, type of hero.

[3] In true Peele fashion, he has produced opening credits for the show, and if you were alive and watching things like ALF in the 80s and 90s, you can practically plot out the show's episodes yourself just from watching them.

[4] There is one exception, a moment during the flashback to Gordy's attack in which he and Jupe briefly connect. But its existence throws a sharper light over the absence of such connection in the rest of the film.

[5] A strange word choice for a young horse-trainer, since I thought "breaking" had fallen out of favor in that field. Maybe I'm wrong, or maybe this is another way in which the film is fundamentally uninterested in animals.

[6] This was a good joke to begin with, but the fact that in the interval between the film's shooting and now, the CW was demolished, and all its shows cancelled, in the wake of the WB/Discovery merger makes it ten times funnier.

[7] Few videos better exemplify the "nope" reaction—and the correct behavior when one encounters a dangerous wild animal—than this now famous clip of a black news anchor spotting a herd of bison approaching his location.

#tiantalk

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govindhtech · 15 days

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Wacom Tablet Movink 13: Thin, Ultra-Light Pen Display

Wacom Tablets

A new graphics tablet from Wacom is available. This has an OLED that produces a vibrant colour display and can be utilised on the go. The pen can handle a wide range of pressure. The Wacom Movink 13 is the first professional OLED graphics display, according to the company. It is intended to generate images and graphics with extreme precision and quality. It is compatible with an input pen. The Wacom Pro Pen 3 has three side buttons, a tilt angle, and recognition for 8,192 pressure levels. The parallax should be as little as possible. A unique Movink version of the Wacom Pro Pen 3 is included, which incorporates a tip holder that doubles as a tip remover.

It has an OLED display with a diagonal screen size of 13.3 inches. It should therefore provide exceptionally good black and colour reproduction. Aim for 95% of the Adobe RGB colour space and complete reproduction of the DCI-P3 colour space. Support for display calibration is provided; this is crucial when creating artwork that will be properly printed.

Because the delay is limited to less than one millisecond, usage ought to be especially convenient. The system is especially ideal for persons who are constantly on the go because it only weighs 420 grammes and is only 6.5 millimetres thick at its thickest. The USB Type-C cable is used to connect the system. The narrow display edge has touch keys that may be customised, which should improve workflow productivity.

Overview: An Examination of the Wacom Movink 13

Digital art and graphic design are changing swiftly, and the Wacom Movink 13 is a remarkable example of originality and innovation. This cutting-edge tool has altered how designers, artists, and hobbyists use their digital canvas. They thoroughly assess the Wacom Movink 13’s features, functionality, and user experience to show why it’s crucial for visual artists.

Design and Construction Quality: Combining Form and Function The Wacom Movink 13’s sleek, modern design attracts attention. This elegant, well-made device is lightweight and portable. The skillful integration of high-quality materials ensures longevity, making it ideal for studio or vacation use. The Wacom Movink 13’s ergonomic design and user-friendly layout improve comfort and efficiency by adapting to the user’s workflow.

Performance and Usability: Boosting Innovation Potential The real beauty of the Wacom tablet Movink 13 is found in its unparalleled usefulness and performance, which go far beyond its visual attractiveness. With its cutting-edge pressure sensitivity and tilt recognition capabilities, this device offers unmatched precision and control. Because of the Wacom Movink 13 fluid and responsive design, users can confidently unleash their creativity when creating elaborate designs, retouching images, or illustrating fascinating artwork. Furthermore, users may easily navigate complex projects with customisable shortcut keys and touch gestures, freeing them up to concentrate on their craft without interference.

High-quality and precise colour displays: Bringing Art to Life A key component of the Wacom Movink 13 experience is its exquisite colour accuracy and display quality. With its sharp colours and crystal-clear high-resolution screen, every stroke and detail is reproduced with accuracy and authenticity. Artists can rely on accurate reproduction of their ideas, whether they are working on bright images or delicate gradients, which enables smooth transitions between digital and traditional media. The Wacom Tablet Movink 13 guarantees accurate representation of every hue through its wide colour gamut support and professional-grade calibration, offering a lifelike viewing experience that enhances the creative process.

Software Compatibility and Integration: Easily Added to Your Workflow The Wacom Movink 13’s smooth integration with a variety of programmes and applications is one of its main advantages. Adobe Photoshop, Illustrator, and Clip Studio Paint allow users to achieve their creative visions using familiar tools and procedures. The Wacom Movink 13 lets users unleash their creativity in photo retouching, illustration design, and character animation with unequalled versatility and freedom.

Putting Money Into Creativity for Pricing and Value Proposition Even while the Wacom Movink 13 requires a substantial financial commitment, its benefits are indisputable. Due to its broad feature set, great performance, and long-lasting quality, this gadget offers a compelling ROI for professionals and enthusiasts. The Wacom Tablet Movink 13 offers an affordable alternative to conventional art supplies and equipment that improves output quality, streamlines workflows, and increases productivity. Furthermore, users can be guaranteed that their investment will continue to yield returns for many years to come with frequent software updates and continuous support.

In summary, embracing creativity and innovation To sum up, the Wacom Movink 13 is a digital drawing tablet that opens up a world of creative expression that is boundless. This gadget opens up new possibilities for artists, designers, and enthusiasts to push the frontiers of their trade and explore thanks to its flawless design, unmatched performance, and seamless integration. For everyone embarking on an artistic journey, be they a novice or an experienced artist, the Wacom Movink 13 is an indispensable partner.