#…I just realised I partially quoted once upon a time for that last line

[astradrifting]

Hiya anon, I’m answering this message over here to keep my blogs tidy! Thanks for the ask!

Oof, honestly I don’t have many concrete theories for ADOS other than what I speculated about Aegon’s death, it’s obviously so dependent on what happens in Winds that it’s all up in the air right now. I’m thinking Winds will almost definitely feature them reuniting and falling in angsty forbidden love amidst the backdrop of very messy Northern politics and an impending ice threat, with R+L=J being revealed by the end of it or early ADOS at the latest, for maximum pre-reveal incest angst.

I do think the show gave us a very, very, very rough idea of what happens, in that Jon will spend most of ADOS in the South while Sansa remains at Winterfell, in charge of the North. GoT managed to make Jon’s parentage a central part of the plot while completely sidestepping any of its actual implications or consequences, but I suspect that a big part of Jon’s ADOS plot will be reckoning with the secret and it’s reveal. Any resolution reached to the Northern politics in TWOW that involves Jon will be thrown into chaos with the reveal, so I could see a marriage between Jon and Sansa being proposed in order to tie Jon to the North and the Starks in the eyes of the lords before he goes South.

The secret being revealed also makes Jon being the only one who can go South make sense. The show’s “Only a king can treat with a queen” reasoning doesn’t hold up under scrutiny, since Jon being imprisoned on Dragonstone makes it clear that sending an emissary would have been smarter. Book!Jon and Aegon are both smarter than that, but “he is my long-lost brother and there is a lot of blood and history surrounding our births and our father’s choices that we need to reckon with” is a much more compelling argument for why the two of them might want to meet personally. Just in terms of narrative as well, why introduce a potential long-lost brother and then not have them ever meet?

Of course a lot of this also depends on what happens with the Others, since Jon’s story has been so tied with them from the beginning that it’d feel hollow if he didn’t have some involvement in how that is resolved, but that plotline is so inscrutable to me that I can’t even begin to theorise what happens there. I’ve got a tentative ‘Bran???’ mentally sharpied over a picture of the Others and that’s as far as my theories go :P

I don’t have a very clear idea on what Sansa’s plot will be while they’re separated other than that it will feature her growing into her rulership of the North. The show might have been accurate in that Arya arrives at Winterfell after Jon has left, and the sisters come into some sort of conflict over their past, their separation, and who they each had to become to survive. It’d serve as a nice way for Jon and Sansa’s stories to parallel again too - both of them having to (re)learn how to deal with a sibling that they barely know, who they don’t quite understand but desperately want to. But the sisters will resolve their differences and be stronger for it, possibly coming together to slay Littlefinger for his crimes against their father. Though I’m also in favour of Sansa taking care of him herself somehow, she has more foreshadowing for that specifically, and Arya has different deaths in her future.

Throughout this whole separation, I fully expect Jon and Sansa both to be heavily missing each other and wishing they were home together at Winterfell, annoying everyone around them by constantly going “I wish Jon/Sansa were here.” 😉 The show already explicitly showed Sansa missing Jon, so imagine how much more pining we’ll get when we can read her thoughts!

Sansa will also probably have a major part to play in the aftermath of Dany’s death. There’s a crazy amount of parallels between Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, who were instrumental in getting Corlys Velaryon freed after the poisoning of Aegon II, and Arya and Sansa, so it seems that, unlike in the show, they’ll be successful in getting Jon released following her murder.

That then totally leaves him free to be with Queen Sansa, hopefully as King in the North but I’d totally accept Prince Consort. I’m also a big believer in the Jon the Builder ending, pioneered (imo) by @istumpysk and @agentrouka-blog, in which he plays a big part in resettling the Gift with new lords.

His lord father had once talked about raising new lords and settling them in the abandoned holdfasts as a shield against wildlings. […] “It is a dream for spring, though,” Lord Eddard had said. “Even the promise of land will not lure men north with a winter coming on.”

If winter had come and gone more quickly and spring had followed in its turn, I might have been chosen to hold one of these towers in my father’s name. Lord Eddard was dead, however, his brother Benjen lost; the shield they dreamt together would never be forged.

(Jon V, ASOS)

To me, that last line reads like Sansa’s thoughts about seeing Jon again, how the thought is sweet but “of course, that could never be”. We know that that line exists solely to be subverted, because they are going to meet again. The same with this one; Lord Eddard and Benjen are gone, but their nephew-son still lives, and he can carry on their dream. It’d be a nice way of allowing Jon to keep some of his vows too - to still be the “shield that guards the realms of men” even after he has left the Watch (guarding from what, at the end of the series, I’m admittedly not sure *points to picture of the Others with ‘Bran????’ written in red sharpie and underlined*). I mean, you can’t just reference the title of the last book, the culmination of your epic fantasy series, in a throwaway line from Jon’s memory without it having some kind of payoff, George. Especially when it’s literally the only time the phrase occurs within the series. Nearly word for word, at least. There’s some “dream of spring” imagery that appears elsewhere that is pretty interesting... But that’ll be in a separate post because this is getting long enough!

So, uh, it turns out I actually do have a lot of thoughts on how ADOS will go! Basically, Jonsa ever after, the wolves coming again through their many adorable trueborn babies :) It won’t be plain sailing, they will face even more grief and pain before the end. But also the possibility of a happy ending, a dream of spring even in the depths of winter.

#astra rambles #jonsa #can’t help but dunk on got I’m sorry but I will not stop #meta #speculation #half speculation half 'my wildest dreams and hopes' #will probably start using that tag for all of my spec posts lol #ados speculation #…I just realised I partially quoted once upon a time for that last line

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Treat Your S(h)elf

The Places In Between by Rory Stewart

“I offered Asad money but he was horrified. It seemed a six-hour round trip through a freezing storm and chest deep snow was the least he could do for a guest. I did not want to insult him but I was keen to repay him in some way. I insisted, feeling foolish. He refused five times but finally accepted out of politeness and gave the money to his companion.Then he wished me luck and turned up the hill into the face of the snowstorm." 

- Rory Stewart

Just weeks after the fall of the Taliban in January of 2002 Scotsman Rory Stewart began a walk across central Afghanistan in the footsteps of 15th Century Moghul conqueror Emperor Babur and along parts of the legendary Silk Road, from Herat to Kabul. He'd find himself in the course of twenty-one months encountering Sunni Kurds, Shia Hazala, Punjabi Christians, Sikhs, Kedarnath Brahmins, Garhwal Dalits, and Newari Buddhists. He said he wanted to explore the "place in between the deserts and the Himalayas, between Persian, Hellenic, and Hindu culture, between Islam and Buddhism, between mystical and militant Islam." He described Afghanistan as "a society that was an unpredictable composite of etiquette, humour, and extreme brutality."

The Places in Between is Stewart's account of walking across Afghanistan from Herat to Kabul in January 2002. The book was the winner of the Royal Society of Literature Ondaatje Award and the Spirit of Scotland Award and shortlisted for the Guardian First Book Award, the John Llewellyn Rhys Memorial Prize and the Scottish Book of the Year Prize.

I first read the book as a teenager a few years after it came out when I was spending a few months doing voluntary work for an Afghan children’s charity in Peshawar, Pakistan with my older sister who was a junior doctor at the time.

I read it on the rocky bus ride from Peshawar, Pakistan and into Afghanistan from Jalalabad to Kabul with my sister and her colleagues. I avidly read the book because I already knew the author through my oldest brother but from a distance because of our respective ages. Little did I realise then that I would be back in Afghanistan a few years later but this time in uniform doing my tour in Afghanistan flying combat helicopters against the Taliban.

I had the book with me (but a newer copy) and it took on a greater prescience precisely because as soldiers, even from the most senior officers on down, we privately questioned what the hell were we really accomplishing in a country ravaged by war since the Soviet invasion in 1979 (and that’s being generous given how history has buried empires into the graveyard of Afghanistan as a testament to their hubris).

Maybe it was hubris or perhaps it was that adventurous strain that needs to be scratched that led Rory Stewart to undertake his madcap journey. Stewart did the entire journey on foot, refusing any other form of transportation (and at one point going back and redoing a section of the walk when he couldn't turn down a vehicle ride). He took an uncommon route straight through the centre of the country and the heart of the mountains, instead of the more common route through the south that bypasses the dangerous mountain passes. This choice was partly because it was shorter, partly because the south was still partially controlled by the Taliban, and partly I suspect (though he doesn't say this explicitly) because it's the less-discussed and less-known route, even today.

This is, therefore, a sort of travel book, describing places that 99.99% of readers in the Western world are very unlikely to ever go. It's also unavoidably political, since Afghanistan is unavoidably political. However, unlike many travel books and many books with political overtones, it's carefully observational, documentary, and quietly understated in a way that gives the reader room to analyse and consider. Stewart focuses on his specific journey and concise, detailed descriptions of what he encountered and lets any broader implications of what he saw emerge from the reader's evaluation. He describes how he reacts to the remarkable natural beauty and almost-forgotten ruins that he encounters, giving the reader a frame and a sense of the emotional impact, but he's not an overbearing presence in the book. The story is clearly personal, but he doesn't dominate it. This is a very difficult line to walk, and I don't recall the last time I've seen it walked as deftly.

Instead there is a real sense that the author has gotten over the novelty of travelling and is more focused on the fundamental circumstances he encounters. The book overall is a fascinating read and there is much to be learned about the epistemologies driving the Afghan people and how different interpretations of Muslim teachings (and likewise, any teachings) can create small, but significant differences between neighbours. He has a gift for vividly describing the people and the landscape without injecting himself too much into the scene.

I suspect every reader will take different things from The Places in Between.

For some readers unaccustomed to the culture of Afghanistan, they would find it distressing to read how dogs are treated in Afghanistan. It's said Prophet Muhammad once cut off part of his own garment rather than disturb a sleeping cat. Unfortunately, he didn't feel equal affection for dogs, and they're "religiously polluting." They're not pets, and they're never petted. A quarter of the way in his journey Stewart has a toothless mastiff pressed upon him by a villager and he named him Babur. The evidence of past abuse could be seen in missing ears and tail, and someone told Stewart the dog was missing teeth because they'd been knocked out by a boy with rocks. Stewart found the dog a faithful companion and said he'd call him "beautiful, wise, and friendly" but that an Afghan, though he might use such terms to describe a horse or hawk would never use it to describe a dog.

But I knew all this growing in Pakistan and India as a small girl. Friends would look perplexed that we Brits - or any Westerners - have dogs or cats as pets and even see them as part of the family.

For me though two big themes stuck out when I first read the book.

One of the things that struck me most memorably is the spider’s web of personal loyalties, personal animosities, different tribes and history, and complexity of Afghan politics that Stewart walks through. Afghanistan is not coherent or cohered in the way that those of us living in long-settled western countries assume when thinking about countries. While there are regions with different ethnicities or dominant tribes, it doesn't even break down into simple tribal areas or regions divided by religion. The central mountain areas Stewart walked through are very isolated and have a long history and a complex web of rivalries, differing reactions to various central governments, and different connections. Stewart meets people who have never traveled more than a few miles from their village, and people who can't go as far as his next day's stop because they'd be killed by the people in the next village. It becomes clear over the course of his journey why creating a cohesive western-style country with unified national rule is far less likely and more difficult than is usually portrayed in the Western news media. The reader slowly begins to realise that this may not be what the Afghans themselves want, and some of the reasons why not.

A large part of that recent history is violent, and here is where Stewart's ability to describe and characterise the people he meets along the way shines. It is a tenet of both Islam and the local culture to give hospitality to travellers, which is the only thing that makes this sort of trip possible. Stewart is generally treated exceptionally well, particularly given the poverty of the people (meat is extremely rare, and most meals are bread at best), but violence and fighting fills the minds and experiences of most people he meets. He memorably observes at one point that one of his temporary companions describes the landscape in terms of violent events. Here, he shot four soldiers. There, two people were killed. Over there is where they ambushed a squad of Russians. It's striking how, after decades of fighting either for or against first the Russians and then the Taliban shapes and marks their mental map of the world. It's likely that few of the people Stewart meets are entirely truthful with him, but even that is an intriguing angle on what they care to lie about, what they think will impress him, and how the Afghan people he encounters display status or react to the unusual.

The second big theme that stuck out for me on a personal note was how Stewart respectfully weaves the wonder of history with the sad lament of the destructive loss heritage on his travels. In the book, Stewart followed roughly the same path as Babur, the founder of the Mughal Empire, did in 1504 at roughly the same time of year. He quotes occasionally from the Baburama, Babur's autobiography, which adds a depth of history to the places Stewart passes through. The Minaret of Jam in the mountains of western Afghanistan is one of the (unfortunately rare) black and white pictures in the centre of this book, and Stewart describes the legendary Turquoise Mountain, the lost capital of a mountain kingdom destroyed by the son of Genghis Kahn in the 1220s, of which the minaret may be the last surviving recognisable remnant. He describes the former Buddhist monasteries at Bamyan in Hazarajat (the region of central Afghanistan populated by the Hazara) and the huge empty alcoves where giant statues of the Buddha had stood for sixteen centuries until destroyed by the Taliban in 2001. This book then is full of history of which  is described with a discerning eye for necessary detail.

How Afghanistan's precious historical and cultural legacy was being destroyed even back in 2002 is heart breaking to read. I think many Westerners certainly know about how the Taliban dynamited the giant Bamiyan Buddha statues over a millennium old because they considered them "idols." Just as profound a loss is discovered by Stewart in his travels. There is a legendary lost city, the "Turquoise Mountain" of the pre-Moghul Ghorid Empire. Archeologists couldn't find it - but when passing through the area, Stewart had found villagers who had, and were looting artefacts with no care for the archeological context or the damage they were doing to the site, selling the priceless wares for the equivalent of a couple of dollars on the black market. This is what he tells us about his discussion with the villagers about the lost city:

"It was destroyed twice," Bushire added, "once by hailstones and once by Genghis." "Three times," I said. You're destroying what remained." They all laughed.

Even as I write this I can’t help but think this episode eerily echoes the madness gripping us in Britain, Europe, and the US (albeit for different reasons) in defacing and pulling down historical statues in wanton in acts of extreme ideological vandalism.

Overall I enjoyed the ‘peace’ of this book as there is a constant tone of a simple purpose. There are some moments along the way that are quite confronting and even frustrating, but so many that are warm and celebratory of the Afghan belief in hospitality.

Perhaps others will differ but I didn’t find too many irritating passages that wax-poetic on the evolution of the traveller. Stewart’s writing style is clinical; completely void of sentimentality, he never allows his own initial or personal meditations on these places overtake his observations, written with much hindsight. Whether being harassed by local soldiers or struggling through snowdrifts Stewart does not bridge a gap with the reader to really get a sense of who he his, as if his own story would detract from the crucial timing of his recordings of this landscape and its people.

His own biography is something out of John Buchan. The son of Scottish colonial civil servant who was born in Hong Kong and grew up in the Far East (and subsequently the second most senior official in the British secret intelligence) before being packed off back to England to Dragon School, Eton and onto Balliol, Oxford to study PPE. A short stint with the Black Watch regiment (as his father and uncle before him) before joining the British Foreign Office and work in some hot spots of the world, including a stint as deputy governor in the Coalition Provisional Authority in Iraq after 2003. He went on to work at the Carr Center for Human Rights Policy at Harvard before returning to the UK to successfully run as a Conservative MP in his native Scotland. Served as a minister in different ministries under Prime Minister Theresa May’s government and improbably came close to upsetting the coronation of Boris Johnson as the next leader of the Conservative party. He resigned from the party rather than be purged and made an unsuccessful bid to run as an independent candidate for London Mayor. He continues to writer and author travel books and front documentaries. He has a storied background but he wears it very lightly.

Of course there is a conceit to the book which in a sense all travel books of this kind that largely goes unquestioned. I don’t think it’s wrong to question a certain kind of entitlement that pervades these kind of books, no matter how much I enjoy reading them especially about countries you have traveled to and know a little bit about. Stewart after all embarks on a journey ‘planning’ to rely on the proverbial kindness of strangers because that is an Islamic cultural and religious value. Try planning a trip anywhere in Western Europe or the USA and Canada. I cannot imagine anyone walking across America, or England and Scotland for that matter, who would believe that he was entitled to expect food, shelter and assistance because he asked for it.

And he does it - as have countless travellers before and after him. Because Stewart succeeds in his journey, he is evidence of an astonishing degree of Afghan Muslim hospitality and generosity. As a back packer who has done it rough not just in Afghanistan but also neighbouring Central Asia as well as Pakistan, India, and China I can see why it might rub some up the wrong way. But I also think it’s not cultural or some sort of colonial arrogance on Stewart’s part. It’s hard to articulate but it’s really a kind of cultured sensitivity of people and lands you already are familiar with or know well from childhood.

Certainly for Rory Stewart - and myself - didn’t exclusively grow up in England and Scotland but in the Eastern post-colonial countries of the ex-British Empire that afforded a privileged childhood (privileged as in a real cultural engagement and immersion) that left a deep appreciation and respect for those countries cultures and traditions. I believe for the vast majority of Western back packers who take adventurous treks across these lands they do so partly out of genuine respect and understanding of different cultures.

For instance, the legacy of this book has been that Rory Stewart has spear headed a long term project called Turquoise Mountain. Alongside his partners, they have been re-creating the "downtown" river district in Kabul and restoring it to it's former glory. They have opened schools for people to re-learn the ancient arts of carving, weaving, architecture, etc. They have supported efforts to restoring city blocks that have been covered in a mountain of trash, and restoring homes where families have lived for centuries. And all for free. The Afghan have never been sure why someone would be doing this out of the goodness of their hearts, but that the poignant irony is that the goodness began with them through their hospitality of the stranger.

The kindness to strangers is a real thing in this part of the world. Kindness to strangers has it roots in fear that the strangers might be gods or their messengers alongside the pragmatic need that strangers in a strange land might need assistance. I sometimes wonder how is it we cannot show the same unabashed kindness to strangers to our homes?

However you slice it, you have to admire Stewart for his mostly un-aided walk across Afghanistan. It does take a certain kind of ballsiness to do it. He carried just his clothes and a sleeping bag (and money), trusting that the villagers along the way would put him up for the night and feed him. He got very sick (diarrhoea and dysentery), was at constant risk of freezing to death in the mountains, and had some very unpleasant encounters with Afghan soldiers in the last few days, after rejecting very strong advice not to walk through this section.

Strangely though nothing about this book is breathtaking of ‘Oriental exoticism’ beloved of Western imagination. Indeed nothing in this book is romanticised and nothing is placed on a pedestal. Stewart writes openly and honestly of all the people he met, those friendly, and those that would've preferred to rob him and leave him dead in a ditch. He's truthful and humorous, and I found myself walking alongside him, a sort of ghost following his rugged trail through mountains, valleys, and Buddhist monasteries.

Re-reading this book when I was doing my tour in Afghanistan with time to kill between missions, I wished George W. Bush and Tony Blair - and all the other Western leaders since these two - could have taken that walk with Stewart and learned the lessons he did. Stewart gives you a sense of the complexity and diversity of the culture and of Islam - and just how ludicrous and ignorant were the assumptions and goals imposed on the country by the invading Westerners. Indeed at the very end of his walk, Stewart reaches Kabul, the heart of the western intervention in Afghanistan and the place where all the political theorists and idealists came to try to shape the country. He describes the impact of seeing draft plans for a national government, which look ridiculous in the light of the country that he just traveled through.

It's a rare bit of political fire in the narrative that's all the more effective since it's one of the few bits of political commentary in the book. Indeed it’s all the more rich and relevant given its emergent commentary and background for the current war being fought there. Stewart necessarily tells only part of the story of Afghanistan, but he tells far more of the story than most will know prior to reading it. It should be mandatory reading for anyone making decisions about how to proceed in that region.

I would recommend anyone take a walk with Rory Stewart.

#books #reading #bookgasm #rory stewart #places in between #travel #afghanistan #trek #adventure #author #walking #treat your s(h)elf #personal #bio #army

[radramblog]

A Thousand Suns- Linkin Park Pt. 3

We’ve arrived at Linkin Park’s fourth album, and my personal favourite: an opinion I’m not sure how to defend, but I will do my best. This was the first album released by the band after I became a fan, in 2010, and continued the experimental progression that started with Meteora and continued through Minutes to Midnight. While one could argue that Minutes had some of those original two albums’ sound in it (e.g. No More Sorrow), A Thousand Suns pretty clearly marks the band moving on from their roots entirely.

Let me be clear: there is nothing on A Thousand Suns that sounds anything like Hybrid Theory.

A Thousand Suns is also a concept album, about nuclear war. It’s not especially subtle, but reflects a more conscientious mindset that would lead to the Download to Donate fundraiser songs the band would put out in the early 2010s.

The first track on A Thousand Suns is called the Requiem, being a mostly instrumental, eerie electronic piece that introduces much of the tone of the album. The album has a lot of these interstitial pieces, which vary in quality pretty heavily. The only lyrics in The Requiem aside from some spooky ooooooooohs are the introduction to another thing this album does, which is slowly build up to the album’s climax, the Catalyst- in this case, the lyrics are directly lifted from said song. While I really like this idea, and the lyrics fit the tone of the instrumental, I’m not a huge fan of…whatever that effect is on the vocals. I’m not even sure who’s talking beneath that filter.

The Requiem directly builds and leads into the second track, the Radiance- also an interstitial, featuring the infamous J. Robert Oppenheimer quote over an intense electronic beat. I actually really like this more than the Requieum, partially because I really like the quote, and partially because the backing gives it this sense of urgency that works really well.

Our 3rd track is the first actual song, Burning in the Skies. It’s lead by a fairly calm piano riff and chilled guitars, with the electronics from the Radiance slowly fading out. Burning in the Skies lyrically and sonically is a song of regret and acceptance, one that would have sounded much angrier had the band released it 8 or so years earlier. It’s also about the immediate aftermath of the bombs falling, a little poetic in descriptions with Mike’s verses (sung, not rapped) from a survivor’s perspective and Chester’s chorus seeming to be from the perspective of humanity as a whole. It eventually builds to a pretty sick solo in the riff, but it’s faded out compared to the piano and percussion- like the drama of the moment is faded compared to the more human element of the track.

Burning in the Skies feels like a natural progression from Minutes to Midnight’s calmer tracks, being a more refined, more directed, and thereby superior equivalent to songs like Shadow of the Day and Valentine’s Day. An album later, they managed to get this sort of song right.

Thus follows our 4th track and 3rd interstitial, Empty Spaces. Explosions and crowd noises, serving as a precursor to Wretches and Kings- except that song is track number 10. If I have one big complaint about this album, it’s that there’s too many of these- since Empty Spaces is literally 18 seconds, though, it gets a pass.

Following this, we have When They Come For Me. A loose drum beat, a harsh electronic buzz, into a heavier, swingy percussion introduce the song, and I kinda adore that last bit. This off-kilter beat serves as an undercurrent to the absolute bars Mike gets to throw down on this track. The whole song is basically a snarl at the fans wanting the band to go back to their old style, explicitly referencing their own work in Hybrid Theory and quoting Points of Authority, as well as nods to many other rap tracks from other artists around that era that inspired their work at the time. It’s the most vulgar song by the band so far- despite their edge, they actually didn’t get an advisory sticker until Minutes to Midnight- directly telling their wayward fans to “stop talking, start trying to catch up motherfucker” (Mishearing this lyric into “try the ketchup motherfucker” was a pretty fun meme at the time). This used to be one of my less liked song on the album, but it has grown on me hard over time, especially as I realised the harsh words didn’t actually apply to me.

Robot Boy follows this anger with calm, being a largely piano-driven melody of consolation. The first half of the lyrics essentially describe someone apathetic due to trauma and depression, while the second half is reassurance and support, eventually ending with the vocals effectively fighting against the mood of the song, thrashing with ad-libbed noise to break free from the oppressive drums and synths. It’s not a song I have a huge amount to say about, but I’ve found it really resonates with me personally. I’ve found this song genuinely comforting in lower times and moods.

Our next interstitial, then, Jornada del Muerto. This is not fucking subtle. On a song called Day of the Dead, on an album about nuclear war, we have a song sung in Japanese. I fucking wonder. The lyrics, by the way, are translated as “Lift me up, let me go”- again taken from The Catalyst.

Waiting for the End I think has ended up my favourite track on the album. We’ve once again got Chester and Mike on the same song again, with Mike’s delivery like nothing else seen so far, almost reggae-esque. The lyrics are tackling moving on, beginning again, and whether that’s from a relationship, from death, or from the apocalypse is left pretty vague. The song is essentially a slow build until it’s climax, where we’ve got the verse and chorus interweaved together for a pretty excellent moment. There’s something a little depressing there- “all I want to do is trade this life for something new” is not words I want to hear out of Chester’s mouth right now- but the tone is more on the optimistic side of nihilism- picking up the pieces and starting over rather than wallowing in grief.

Blackout is next, and this track is a lot of fun. It’s essentially a role reversal for the band’s lead vocalists, with Chester aggressively spitting and Mike being the calming voice in the bridge. It’s another more electronic piece, supported by an almost military drum beat, leading to an almost oppressive atmosphere between Chester and the instrumentation. Lyrically, it feels the closest to anything on Hybrid Theory, being a direct rant at an unknown second person, before the bridge breaks it down completely with Hahn flexing his old tricks once again, twisting and chopping both lyrics and instruments into unrecognizable shapes before leaving as suddenly as he entered. The last minute and a half of the song are completely different- slowly building the instrumentation as Mike sings an almost comforting melody, leading into the two harmonizing for the song’s finale.

Number 10, Wretches and Kings, opens with the infamous Bodies upon Gears speech by Mario Savio. It has the harshest electronic noise so far, almost screeching underneath the back-and-forth of Chester and Mike being opposite sides of the titular conflict. Mike’s bars are the King, the higher up, the crushing authority, with Chester being the voice of rebellion, an effect on his voice making him sound like more than just himself, a slight reverb as he represents the oppressed masses. It’s harsh, it’s intense, and it’s a bit odd on this album- though political songs weren’t really the band’s wheelhouse at the time, Wretches and Kings both fits on the album thematically and is vague enough that they get away with it. It ends with the same Savio speech, with more of it this time, followed by Hanh fucking around with the instrumentation in a bit that frankly feels self-indulgent more than anything.

Wisdom, Justice, and Love is our 11th track, and second last interstitial. It’s a bit silly, being a Martin Luther King Jr speech about the Vietnam War steadily edited to make the man sound more and more robotic. This feels kinda pointless.

Iridescent, then. This is the third and last song by the band to be used in a Transformers movie, with them shifting to Imagine Dragons instead after this, the cowards. The song pretty explicitly references the effects of a nuclear weapon (“a burst of light that blinded every angel”), but that’s not the long and short of what it’s about- the song is more about hope, and resilience, in the face of adversity. “Let it go”, referring to the anger and desperation such situations lead people to (not the Sierra Madre :v ). Were it so easy.

The song, like many, builds to a climax, though said climax is almost glorious in this one, with disparate elements and the entire band singing along for a bit, making it the high point of the album emotionally. I do say this knowing what the final song is like, we’ll get to that.

The last interstitial. Fallout. It’s kind of like a reversed version of The Requiem and Wisdom, Justice and Love- rather than lyrics from The Catalyst introducing Burning in the Skies, it’s the other way around, and the vocals get steadily less robotic over time- rather, a second vocal track fades in overlaid on the original.

The Catalyst is the climax the whole album builds towards. I was obsessed with this shit as a kid. Contrasting Iridescent, this is the hopelessness, the fear, the stress brought upon by the end of the world. It’s the old world fading away, as humanity begs for forgiveness for the sins committed by its worst members.

This is supported, by the way, by this really fucking cool electronic line, that I like a lot, with entirely electronic instrumentation building and shifting chaotically before falling away for the bridge. The bridge peels everything back, leaving just the little electronic rift and throwing real instrumentation in for the last gasp of humanity. A piano line comes in for the desperate lyrics- Lift me up, let me go, begging for death or salvation, whichever comes soonest. It’s a desperate, chaotic low to the hopeful high of Iridescent, a contrast that I only really noticed when writing this post. Hey look, I found more things to like about this, go figure.

A Thousand Suns ends with The Messenger, an acoustic ballad contrasting intensely with the rest of the album. It’s explicitly written by Chester to his children, as a light at the end of the tunnel- it’s much like Fortress by Queens of the Stone Age in that sense. I suppose that’s a good thing, but frankly, I actually skip this song on most of my listens of the album. It’s just so unbelievably hammy and oversung that I can’t help it- you can hear his voice breaking as he goes. Recent events have made it more painful than ever to hear it, so forgive me if I pass.

 I’m not sure if I can really put my love for this album into words. It ended up defining a lot of my early teens, for better and for worse, I suppose- and considering this is before I “got into” music, that means a lot. But those are a lot of words, largely about me loving the album, so I hope you can understand now why it’s my favourite one.

Next up: either Living Things/Hunting Party or some side stuff, I haven’t made my mind up yet.

#ramble #music #linkin park #long

[hawksmoor17]

I'm watching Doctor Who "dinosaurs in space" rn and all I can think of is that Lestrade is now an archaeologist. Also, earlier while watching another episode, it occured to me that Moffat likes the "it's all in their head plot twist". It's not impossible (or totally probable) that he used it once again in TFP.

Okay. So. I’m kind of freaking out right now, because your ask has just triggered my memory and I think I’ve stumbled across something incredibly important!

Now, if you haven’t seen Doctor Who, bear with me because I seriously think that this is a massive clue as to what’s been going on in season four.

We already know that Moffat’s written Sherlock into Doctor Who before.

I’ve considered a dream-sequence type thing as well. Not because of “Dinosaurs in Space”, though, but because of the episode “Amy’s Choice”.

Just to get this out of the way, I’m not sure whether TST/TLD are entirely constructed or not. It’s quite possible that they are partially real, partially fake. I highly suspect that TD-12 is the culprit in this case.

To anyone who hasn’t watched Doctor Who, but is following along with the conspiracy, I highly recommend watching “Amy’s Choice” stand alone because it’s got some crazy Sherlock parallels and will also give you a bit of an idea of Moffat’s particular brand of rug pull.

The basic premise of the episode is that it focuses around reality being contingent upon a single choice.

In this case, the Doctor’s companion, Amy, has to choose between either staying with her spouse Rory, or “the madman” aka., the Doctor. Remind you of someone?

The antagonist / bad guy of the day “The Dream Lord” traps the Doctor and Amy within a shared dream where they wake up in another reality in which Amy chose her husband Rory over the Doctor. They are both happily married, Amy is pregnant, and neither the Doctor nor Amy realise that they are dreaming at first.

Oh yeah. And The Dream Lord? He’s played by Toby Jones. How about those parallels?

Over the course of the episode the Dream Lord makes the Doctor and Amy wake up over and over again in both the reality in which Amy chose Rory, and the reality in which Amy chose the Doctor.

In the reality in which Amy chose Rory they are being chased down by aliens, and in the reality in which Amy chose the Doctor they are in the TARDIS about to be frozen to death by a nearby astrological phenomenon. A bit of a catch 22, then.

But the catch is that if you die in the dream, you wake up in reality.

Amy has to then choose which reality she thinks is real or a dream, in order to kill herself and finally wake up. 

I think this merging of dream and reality has been occurring on and off for Sherlock since his hospitalisation in His Last Vow.

Remember all the weird discrepancies and surrealist elements within season four? We get the same thing happening in “Amy’s Choice”, when the Doctor is trying to figure out whether they’re dreaming or not:

“The Doctor: Examine everything. Look for all the details that don’t ring true.Rory Williams: OK we’re in a spaceship that’s bigger on the inside than the outside.Amy Pond: With a bow tie-wearing alien.Rory Williams: Maybe “what rings true” isn’t so simple.The Doctor: Valid point.”

Meaning the glowing skull / lamp hell / OOC character behaviour / reused lines of dialogue all point towards constructed memories.

Moving along, where things get really incriminating is when you consider that the big reveal at the end of the episode: The Dream Lord is actually the physical manifestation of the Doctor’s darkest fears and insecurities.

“The Doctor: Drop it! Drop all that. I know who you are.Dream Lord: Of course you don’t.The Doctor: Of course I do. I’ve no idea how you can be here, but there’s only one person in the Universe that hates me as much as you do.”

“Sherlock Holmes: The point I’m trying to make is that I am… the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant, and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet. I am dismissive of the virtuous, unaware of the beautiful, and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn’t understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody’s best friend…”

Just like the Doctor, Sherlock’s biggest weakness, central to the type of character he is, is loneliness.

The Doctor is so afraid of being alone that he conjures up a monster that traps he and Amy in a reality contingent upon her leaving him.

So to sum up the parallels, we’ve got …- The Doctor // Sherlock- Amy’s choice // John’s choice (post HLV)- Amy’s Pregnancy // Mary’s Pregnancy — The Schrodinger’s Baby dilemma- The Dream Lord // Culverton Smith // (John) // Sherlock- Additionally Billy Kincaid (mentioned in TSoT) mirroring Culverton Smith as well - Possibly The Dream Lord // Eurus // Sherlock

Relevant quotes/references:

Amy // John

Amy is referred to in Doctor Who as “the Girl Who Waited”. She meets the Doctor when she’s young, and he promises to come back and save her, but due to the TARDIS malfunctioning accidentally disappears and only comes back years into the future when she’s already grown up. (Paralleling Reichenbach.)

This theme of the Doctor leaving Amy behind because it’s in his nature/that’s just the sort of man he is really links into John and Sherlock’s dynamic. John thinks that Sherlock is always abandoning him both literally (TRF) and emotionally (THoB, ASiB, etc.,) because he’s a “sociopathic genius”, it’s just who he is, when really, unlike the Doctor, Sherlock is only being forced away from John due to Moriarty.

“Dream Lord: Poor Amy. He always leaves you, doesn’t he? Alone in the dark. Never apologises.Amy: He doesn’t have to.Dream Lord: That’s good. Because he never will. And now he’s left you with me. Spooky old not-to-be-trusted me. Anything could happen.Amy: Who are you and what do you want? The Doctor knows you, but he’s not telling me who you are. And he always does. Takes him a while sometimes but he tells me. So you’re something different.Dream Lord: Oh, is that who you think you are? The one he trusts?Amy: Actually, yes.”

“Amy: I love Rory and I never told him. And now he’s gone.”

“John: Just text her, phone her, do something while there’s still a chance, because that chance doesn’t last forever. Trust me, Sherlock, it’s gone before you know it. Before you know it!”

In Doctor Who, in order to make the right choice Amy must choose Rory over the Doctor, the man she loves over the man she is infatuated with.

In this case, Sherlock, although he parallels the Doctor, also parallels Rory.

Sherlock // the Doctor

What does the Doctor say the first time he, Amy, and Rory are together again?

“The Doctor: Now. We all know there’s an elephant in the room.”

And what is he referring to? Amy think’s it’s her pregnancy, but the Doctor makes a joke and says that he’s talking about Rory’s terrible choice of hairstyle. Of course, that’s not what he’s actually talking about. The real elephant in the room is the fact that Amy is standing between the two men she loves and has to choose between.

Weather Metaphors: “The Oncoming Storm” vs. “The East Wind”

Within Doctor Who we have the extended metaphor of the Doctor being referred to as “the Oncoming Storm” which can be seen as paralleling the “East Wind” in Sherlock, which is very likely referring to himself, namely his emotions.

“The Doctor: Someone—something—is overriding my controls!Dream Lord (Toby Jones): Well that took a while. Honestly, I’d heard such good things. Last of the Time Lords. The Oncoming Storm. Him in the bowtie.”

“The East Wind is coming, Sherlock. It’s coming to get you.“ 

And in mythology ... “Eurus is God of the East Wind. He was thought to bring warmth and rain, and his symbol was an inverted vase, spilling water. His Roman counterpart was Vulturnus.” [x]

From The Blind Banker:

“Sherlock: Someone else has been here. Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase, just like I did. John: You think maybe you could let me in this time? Can you not keep doing this, please?Sherlock: I’m not the first.”

Plus Sherlock drinking from the vase in TLD:

Conclusions

”Amy’s Choice” provides a conceptual basis for what is likely going on in Season Four. 

Where Toby Jones represents the darkness within The Doctor as The Dream Lord, it is possible that Culverton Smith at times represents the darkness within Sherlock. At the very least this also links into how other characters such as Faith/”E”/Eurus/Mary can sometimes be seen as representations of characters’ psyches.

Amy’s baby, aka., Mary’s baby, is likely existent in one reality and non-existent in another. Season four shows us a reality where Rosamund does exist so we know certain scenes are not real, just like how Amy’s pregnancy is not real.

Amy’s choice between the Doctor and Rory parallels John’s choice between Sherlock and Mary. In S4 Sherlock’s worst fears to do with loneliness are being projected into reality, just like the Doctor’s, likely because of TD-12, which parallels The Dream Lord’s “psychic pollen”.

Within “Amy’s Choice” Amy and the Doctor are presented with three separate realities. There’s the real world, the fake real world on the TARDIS where Amy chose the Doctor, and the fake world in the village where Amy chose Rory. Due to this I think it’s quite likely that there are multiple layers of unreality we are seeing in season four, just like when Sherlock wakes up into fake reality in TAB and goes to dig up Emelia Ricoletti’s body.

This makes even more sense considering the fact that TAB can be seen as a key for understanding season four. Dreams within dreams within dreams.

@worriesconstantly @jenna221b @teapotsubtext @drugsbust @my-relaxation @timey-wimey-consulting-dragon @misanthropic-acedia @theveryunnecessaryfeelings

#sherlock meta #tjlc #tfhc #long post beware