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whatisonthemoon · 1 year

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Materialism Revisited by Neil Salonen (1968)

An article from the January 1968 issue of the early American Moonie publication New Age Frontiers

TParents.org link: https://www.tparents.org/Library/Unification/Publications/naf/NAF-1968-01-00.pdf

MATERIALISM REVISITED by Neil Salonen

The spirit man becomes vital as his physical body completely obeys it and as the action of give and take is fully performed between them. (The Divine Principles, page 20.)

Perfected men are to be the media of conjunction between the physical and spiritual worlds, in this way becoming lords over all creation. Accordingly, in the process of restoring ourselves to the Father, we must be careful not to become unbalanced in the direction of either physical or spiritual things, but rather coordinate the two with wisdom, as our perfection would demand.

Our rate of growth as the Universal Family obviously depends on many factors. One of the most outstanding of these is the speed and efficiency with which we can amass sufficient material resources to serve as a vehicle for our individual and group evangelistic missions. Without historical precedent, America has been materially blessed among nations. We are not only the most prosperous people of any time, but we have used that prosperity to spread American influence to every corner of the globe. We have been carefully prepared and are the most logical choice to assume a mission of John the Baptist to the nation of priests.

Although great wealth and resources are given to our nation, we are still faced with the very real problem of bringing them under Father's control-- in effect, subjugating their present comptroller and reclaiming them. This type of work is most effectively carried out by a group of people -- the greater the number, the better. Being a large Center, and especially as a headquarters, Washington Family has had some unique experiences which I would like to share with you.

One source of group income comes from donations out of the individual incomes of its members and patrons. Depending upon how frugal those contributors are, this can be considerably more than the normal administrative costs, but it can never really approach the amount needed for a truly massive effort. As a group, we have found that we can multiply our efforts through cooperation in projects -- such as bazaars and parties. Anne Furnas has been particularly active in this type of affair. Our experience has been that, although such projects earn a nice sum of money, it never seems to fully compensate for the many long hours of work by such a large number of people.

The eventual answer must lie in our own business, which would be entirely under our control, like the factory owned by our Family in Korea. Most business enterprises require an investment -- the least of which would be in any sales organization. There are various outfits for whom we could act as distributors where the investment is minimal and the potential for earnings is limited only by our ability to persevere. It is to our advantage to be constantly looking for such opportunities so that we can prepare sufficient funds to enter a more stable industry, such as printing or publishing, or even intermediate investment programs, such as real estate.

We may be helpful to each other by sharing our experiences -- both good and bad -- through this newsletter. One of the immediate problems that comes to mind is that of suitable facilities for group affairs. Our diligent Anne overcame this in one case by lining up the function room at the YMCA at no charge; right now she is working on a similar situation at a downtown hotel where the cost is minimal. Often, including charity efforts such as clothing drives has persuaded the management to reduce their charges. The only limitations, therefore, are set by how willing we are to tackle the situation and make the necessary contacts. Naturally, we can expect rejections -- but isn't this the same with our spiritual activity? The only real failure will result if we fail to keep trying.

Nor should size be a problem -- not if we truly use our ingenuity. Cannot the women hold bake sales or run nurseries -- or anything? Here in Washington both men and women have tried various projects. Even though we haven't struck our "gold mine" yet, what should be our inability to quit guarantees our success.

No other people are so clearly in a position to develop a strong financial base with relative ease. While many nations are limited in potential, in America the price has always been one that should be easy for our members to pay, in light of our motivation -- hard work and consistent effort. Let everyone of us make or renew a pledge to pay that price and successfully expedite our Leader's mission through action, as well as prayer, in the preparation of a physical vehicle as well as a spiritual base.

Related articles below

Moon’s religion was always involved in politics: ‘From Korea with Love’ by John D. Marks

Allen Tate Wood on Sun Myung Moon and the UC (and Freedom Leadership Foundation and Neil Salonen)

Korean Moonshine (1979?) Neil Salonen asked about ‘Pikareum’ on TV

Prime Minister Kishi of Japan, organised crime and the Moon involvement in Japanese politics gained protection for the UC

World Domination – Sun Myung Moon’s many attempts ended in failure

#new age frontiers #neil salonen #1968 #uc businesses #business #uc assets #assets #church assets #unification church in the united states of america #unification church in the united states #unification church #moonies

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haechanokeh · 3 years

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I'm Right For You [pt.1 ]

[teaser/ prologue] [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ]

✓ I recommend listen to Die For You by The Weeknd every time reading this story 😌

pairing: popular college! mark x average! reader

genre: romance, smut, angst, series.

warning (this chapter): HIGH SEXUAL TENSION, masturbation and sex dream.

warning (the series): corruption, oral sex (both receiving and giving), cream pie, rough sex, anal sex, mention of religion, rough sex, self-esteem, psychology, public sex, sub! reader, sex toys. possessive mark two-faced mark

word count: 2.3K

I think I'm right for you, babe. You know what I'm thinking, see it in your eyes. You hate that you want me, hate it when you cry. It ain't workin' 'cause you're perfect and I know that you're worth it I can't walk away. (Die for you by The Weeknd)

Mark was the least classmate you want to be pair with, Not because he slacks, not a good student because god knows he’s an excellent student. you just don’t like how different from you, it was unexplainable but you feel so intimidated- you can’t even look straight into his eyes. mark receives a lot of recognition and everyone adores him. he’s very kind. everyone wants to hang out with him well mark is very friendly, he's really a good influence they say. he doesn't smoke, he drinks but not that much, plus he encourages the class to attend bible study- his father is a pastor. but you never hangout with anyone unless it's school related.

“my house? y/n? are you listening?” he lowered his head to check your face looking down on the textbook the whole time. he grabbed your attention, your eyes quickly shifted anywhere but him.

“ah... ahm i’m good with library, i don’t want to cause any inconvenience.” you politely rejected his suggestion to where you can do your case study in clinical pharmacy. it’s just it doesn’t look good if a girl is alone with man in a house.

“but we can’t talk properly in the library.” he reasoned, and you knew he has a point.

“ahm, maybe in coffee shops?” no, you heard mark dislike going to coffee shop just to study, he said the key to ace the exams are study at home or library. studying in coffee shop causes inconvenience too for people who truly want to enjoy coffees.

“okay fine. your house.” you sighed. he showed his infamous smile.

❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁ ❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁ ❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖

mark said that they have visitors in their house so both of you decided to go you didn't know that mark lives in a fancy condominium. his house look so expensive, you very conscious to move, afraid that you might break something.

"what are you standing there?" he chuckled and put down his bag on the floor beside the couch. you're standing still on the doorway. "sit here." he patted the long sofa next to the couch.

you quietly walked towards the sofa and sit on it, stiffly which made mark chuckle again.

"do you want water, soda, tea, coffee, or me?" he winked, teasing you. you blushed, and you really despise that feeling every time he's around. you don't like it when he makes you flustered.

"water." you brushed off the intimidation. your tone changed slightly like you're annoyed.

mark could easily read people, he's really good at it. he knew you dislike him but something in your eyes say different. mark has been building this sexual tension between you for so long already but it still amazes him that you always block it. rather giving up, he was motivated and it became an addiction. he wanted tou so badly.

"okay water it is." he just said.

you opened your bag and get your notes in chemistry. you saw mark’s phone light up, and you saw his phone wallpaper. it was just in front of you, his wallpaper is a girl facing down on the table as if she's sleeping but what caught your eyes the most is that her matching bracelets with written bold letters life. then you analyze whether it was you, you have the same hair color and the two rings in the middle finger too. you literally froze, analyzing what's going on.

"y/n, here's your water and a sliced of cake that my brother baked." you almost jumped when he appeared. his brows met in confusion when he caught you so surprised. he put the tray on the table. "something wrong?"

your mouth felt dry.

"n-nothing." you stuttered. mark gave you an unconvinced look but just shrugged. he reach for his phone. you suddenly feel thirsty so you reach for the glass of water and drink it.

"ahm... who's on your wallpaper? ah- your phone light up i think someone texted you." you said returned to gulping the water

"you." he casually answered. you chocked and spat out the water from your mouth. the glass slipped from your hand and thank goodness it landed on your thigh safely but you clothes became wet.

mark only watched you while laughing on your cute reaction. you glared at him.

"i'm sorry, you're just too cute." he apologized suppressing his laugh. mark sat beside you and grabbed the glass from your lap and put it back on top of the table. "i still don't get it why you never notice my signals." he said, wiping your face using the sleeves of his sweater.

it sends you shivers, his touch did but his mischievousness no. you were slightly annoyed.

“you don’t like me huh.” he pretend to be hurt.

“stop playing.” you said and look down on your shirt. “my shirt is wet now.”

mark stare at your silhouette shirt and your flesh and black bra are showing in front of his eyes.

“i think i should go home.” you were disappointed, both of you haven’t accomplished anything yet.

she’s going home? like that?

“you can barrow my shirt for the mean time.” he stood up.

“really? thanks.” you stood up and follow him.\

i just confessed but i don’t think she get it. she’s really something. a small smile plastered in his face but you weren’t able to see it since his back was facing you.

he opened his door’s room and he went in with you. you slightly observed his room, nothing special but there’s a lot of book on the shelf and two kinds of guitar. he loves music and ready, you find it amusing though. your eyes followed him getting shirt from his closet.

we walked towards you.

“here.” he gave you a generous smile. he extended his hand to give you his shirt. you reached for it and once your hand was on it he swiftly hide it behind your back causing you to stumble on the his bed.

“i’m sorry.” you sat up and you froze when he stand in between the first thing you saw was his clothed abdomen. you looked up and the unfamiliar mark was now looking down on you.

"i just confessed to you y/n, are you aware or just pretending that it didn’t happen, hmm?” he caressed your cheek that gave you goosebumps.” do you hate me? despise me? but why am i seeing in your eyes, you want me and you hate it weren't you?"

the air became thick, your mouth just parted and eyes staring at him. you're still processing what he said, it made you question your hate towards him.

hate was a strong word, you don't hate him but you hate whatever he made you feel, like right now. you're heart is going crazy. you just realize that you really like it and it's hard for you to admit because you know that he will do not good to you. you will just get hurt because he will never like you back, but that's not the case anymore. although you're doubting his confession, you seemed to love the idea of having him.

you gulped, your throat became dry once more. cat got your tongue and your brain stopped working- you can’t even process what’s going on. it was gentle but it feels icy like his voice and eyes. he’s not mark, at least that’s what you think.

“mark... i- what’s-” you have no idea what you want to say.

he slowly and carefully traced your parted lips. mark felt arouse thinking how good it feels to sucked by these tiny mouth of yours. he lifted your chin using his thumb and middle finger and with no hesitations he captured your lips. you lost your sanity. you melted and so as your surviving rationality.

he cupped your jaws and he deepened the kiss, tongue inside and he locked your mouths. the sensation went straight to your core. you felt like the world stop revolving around the sun and heat just absorbed mark’s room. the sloppy and wet kisses became louder than the aircon. heat rose from your chest. you were unaware but your hands were on the back of his head playing with his hair. he released a smug smile which you did not noticed. this is your first kiss, no one ever kissed you... well you never had a boyfriend.

a wicked idea won in mark’s hand, his hands skimmed down your body until it reached you thigh. he parted and caressed it. but it was a bad idea for him, senses snapped back on you.

you quickly separated your self, pushing him and you stood up. you quickly get up from his bed.

“I need to use your toilet, excuse me.” your heart was pounding loud and you feel so hot. you walked passed him and walking to his room.

mark quick on his feet before you even enter his bathroom not a toilet. he turned you.

“why did we stop?” he groaned eyes glued on your lips.

“if you’re bored and just want to play, please not me Mark.” you begged, lips quivering because you know deep down in you, you’re close to giving in. His eyes masked with darkness, jaws clenched. he stepped forward and you step back. you don’t like it when he’s too close. you hate the feeling of being weak.

“do i look like i’m playing with you?” his voice was deep with a hint of annoyance. it was your first time to see mark like this.

mark who’s always smiling, laughing, friendly, caring, generous, and everyone adores. was now gone. in your eyes he’s like a tiger targeting its prey. it didn’t help you’re in his den and back against the wall.

“mark, i want to go home." you faintly whispered still looking straight in his eyes. you felt so small, like a prey waiting, ready to be eaten.

"do you hate me that much?" he was reaching for your cheeks but you flinched. mark was offended by your reaction. "i never been bad to you y/n, tell me what did i do to you to make you feel this scared of me." he tucked your hair behind you ear.

"i'm not scared." you almost choke when you said that. mark chuckled at your cuteness. "you're just different to me and i don't know how to act around you." his brow raised.

"i feel uncomfortable mark, can i go home?" it took a lot of courage to say that. you just want to runaway. he smiled sadly, admiring your angelic face. eyes wide open with innocence looking up to him, he felt the unfamiliar urge to dominate those eyes.

"i guess you hate what ever you are feeling towards me, but unlike you I won't runaway." he traced the side of your face, it send shivers down to your core. "because I just simply can't walkaway."

he stepped back and tucked his hands on his pants.

"you can stay, i will not do anything to you. let's finish our case study on the living room." he went back, giving you his familiar smile. the atmosphere changed, the coldness vanished and changed into warmth.

you felt at ease.

"thank you." you said and you're quick on your feet, leaving his room.

mark watch you left from his room, he erased his pretentious smile.

"how long will this last, fuck." he groaned in frustration.

awkward but bot of you at least accomplished and solved the case. he offered you to drive you back home but you insisted that he doesn’t have to but he was so persistent that you have to lie about running errand and meeting your mom.

❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁ ❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁ ❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖

sleepiness caught you the moment your body touched the bed.

“mark...” you faintly moaned and covered your mouth as you watch mark thrusting his fingers on your slick producing squelching and sucking your clit.

"oh my gosh, i'm gonna cum!" you squealed and your legs started to shake. he crawled over you, hovering your naked body.

you finally met his eyes that almost melt your knees.

"i though you hate it? should i stop?"

“NO!” you gasped, and woke up from your strange dream. you sat up and was catching your breath. you felt something sticky between your thighs, shame enters your system and guilt.

"what am i thinking?" you whispered to yourself.

you felt ashamed over your dream doing something dirty with mark, however the other party was thinking of you non stop.

❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁ ❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁

mark stroking his dick, eyes closed while imagining your mouth wrapped around his cock.

"fuck, right there y/n." he moaned, after few thrust he spurted his white thick liquid.

his chest rose heavily. staring at his hands filled with his cum, there was no disgrace in his soul when he masturbate and thinking of you at the same time.

mark is always contented whatever he has, he's very simple minded but things went wrong when you caught his attention. for the first time, he want something- your body and your attention.

he thought, he wanted to be greedy, he needs to be greedy.

"will not do anything? at least for today huh?" he chuckled bitterly as he remembered what he said awhile ago to you.

"no holding back." he seriously said and wipe his hand on the blanket.

hello, i'm sorry for grammatical errors. i hope you enjoy it there's nothing much in this, just sexual tensions for chapter 1 ♥️

and i hope you like it, here's the chapter 1. @mellowvoidexpertfriend

#mark lee smut #mark lee angst #Mark smut #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee nct #mark lee fanfic #mark lee imagine #NCT 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 angst #nct mark #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #nct dream angst #nct dream

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dwellordream · 3 years

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“…The complex design of the Victorian house signified the changing ratio between the cultural and physical work situated there. With its twin parlors, one for formal, the other for intimate exchange, and its separate stairs and entrances for servants, the Victorian house embodied cultural preoccupations with specialized functions, particularly distinguishing between public and private worlds.

American Victorians maintained an expectation of sexualized and intimate romanticism in private at the same time that they sustained increasingly ‘‘proper’’ expectations for conduct in public. The design of the house helped to facilitate the expression of both tendencies, with a formal front parlor designed to stage proper interactions with appropriate callers, and the nooks, crannies, and substantial private bedrooms designed for more intimate exchange or for private rumination itself.

Just as different areas of the house allowed for different gradations of intimacy, so did the house offer rooms designed for different users. The ideal home offered a lady’s boudoir, a gentleman’s library, and of course a children’s nursery. This ideal was realized in the home of Elizabeth E. Dana, daughter of Richard Henry Dana, who described her family members situated throughout the house in customary and specialized space in one winter’s late afternoon in 1865. Several of her siblings were in the nursery watching a sunset, ‘‘Father is in his study as usual, mother is taking her nap, and Charlotte is lying down and Sally reading in her room.’’ In theory, conduct in the bowels of the house was more spontaneous than conduct in the parlor.

This was partly by design, in the case of adults, but by nature in the case of children. If adults were encouraged to discover a true, natural self within the inner chambers of the house, children—and especially girls—were encouraged to learn how to shape their unruly natural selves there so that they would be presentable in company. The nursery for small children acknowledged that childish behavior was not well-suited for ‘‘society’’ and served as a school for appropriate conduct, especially in Britain, where children were taught by governesses in the nursery, and often ate there as well. In the United States children usually went to school and dined with their parents. As the age of marriage increased, the length of domestic residence for some girls extended to twenty years and more.

The lessons of the nursery became more indirect as children grew up. Privacy for children was not designed simply to segregate them from adults but was also a staging arena for their own calisthenics of self-discipline. A room of one’s own was the perfect arena for such exercises in responsibility. As the historian Steven Mintz observes, such midcentury advisers as Harriet Martineau and Orson Fowler ‘‘viewed the provision of children with privacy as an instrument for instilling self-discipline. Fowler, for example, regarded private bedrooms for children as an extension of the principle of specialization of space that had been discovered by merchants. If two or three children occupied the same room, none felt any responsibility to keep it in order.’’

…The argument for the girl’s room of her own rested on the perfect opportunity it provided for practicing for a role as a mistress of household. As such, it came naturally with early adolescence. The author Mary Virginia Terhune’s advice to daughters and their mothers presupposed a room of one’s own on which to practice the housewife’s art. Of her teenage protagonist Mamie, Terhune announced: ‘‘Mamie must be encouraged to make her room first clean, then pretty, as a natural following of plan and improvement. . . . Make over the domain to her, to have and to hold, as completely as the rest of the house belongs to you. So long as it is clean and orderly, neither housemaid nor elder sister should interfere with her sovereignty.’’ Writing in 1882, Mary Virginia Terhune favored the gradual granting of autonomy to girls as a natural part of their training for later responsibilities.

…Victorian parents convinced their daughters that the secret to a successful life was strict and conscientious self-rule. The central administrative principle was carried forth from childhood: the responsibility to ‘‘be good.’’ The phrase conveyed the prosecution of moralist projects and routines, and perhaps equally significant, the avoidance or suppression of temper and temptation. Being good extended beyond behavior and into the realm of feeling itself. Being good meant what it said—actually transfiguring negative feelings, including desire and anger, so that they ceased to become a part of experience.

Historians of emotion have argued that culture can shape temperament and experience; the historian Peter Stearns, for one, argues that ‘‘culture often influences reality’’ and that ‘‘historians have already established some connections between Victorian culture and nineteenth-century emotional reality.’’ More recently, the essays in Joel Pfister and Nancy Schnog’s Inventing the Psychological share the assumption that the emotions are ‘‘historically contingent, socially specific, and politically situated.’’ The Victorians themselves also believed in the power of context to transform feeling.

The transformation of feeling was the end product of being good. Early lessons were easier. Part of being good was simply doing chores and other tasks regularly, as Alcott’s writings suggest. One day in 1872 Alice Blackwell practiced the piano ‘‘and was good,’’ and another day she went for a long walk ‘‘for exercise,’’ made two beds, set the table, ‘‘and felt virtuous.’’ Josephine Brown’s New Year’s resolutions suggested such a regimen of virtue—sanctioned both by the inherent benefits of the plan and by its regularity.

As part of her plan to ‘‘make this a better year,’’ she resolved to read three chapters of the Bible every day (and five on Sunday) and to ‘‘study hard and understandingly in school as I never have.’’ At the same time, Brown realized that doing a virtuous act was never simply a question of mustering the positive energy to accomplish a job. It also required mastering the disinclination to drudge. She therefore also resolved, ‘‘If I do feel disinclined, I will make up my mind and do it.’’

The emphasis on forming steady habits brought together themes in religion and industrial culture. The historian Richard Rabinowitz has explained how nineteenth-century evangelicalism encouraged a moralism which rejected the introspective soul-searching of Calvinism, instead ‘‘turning toward usefulness in Christian service as a personal goal.’’ This pragmatic spirituality valued ‘‘habits and routines rather than events,’’ including such habits as daily diary writing and other regular demonstrations of Christian conduct. Such moralism blended seamlessly with the needs of industrial capitalism—as Max Weber and others have persuasively argued.

Even the domestic world, in some ways justified by its distance from the marketplace, valued the order and serenity of steady habits. Such was the message communicated by early promoters of sewing machines, for instance, one of whom offered the use of the sewing machine as ‘‘excellent training . . . because it so insists on having every-thing perfectly adjusted, your mind calm, and your foot and hand steady and quiet and regular in their motions.’’ The relation between the market place and the home was symbiotic. Just as the home helped to produce the habits of living valued by prudent employers, so, as the historian Jeanne Boydston explains, the regularity of machinery ‘‘was the perfect regimen for developing the placid and demure qualities required by the domestic female ideal.’’

Despite its positive formulation, ‘‘being good’’ often took a negative form —focusing on first suppressing or mastering ‘‘temper’’ or anger. The major target was ‘‘willfulness.’’ An adviser participating in Chats with Girls proposed the cultivation of ‘‘a perfectly disciplined will,’’ which would never ‘‘yield to wrong’’ but instantly yield to right. Such a will, too, could teach a girl to curb her unruly feelings. The Ladies’ Home Journal columnist Ruth Ashmore (a pseudonym for Isabel Mallon) more crudely warned readers ‘‘that the woman who allows her temper to control her will not retain one single physical charm.’’ As a young teacher, Louisa May Alcott wrestled with this most common vice.

Of her struggles for self-control, she recognized that ‘‘this is the teaching I need; for as a school-marm I must behave myself and guard my tongue and temper carefully, and set an example of sweet manners.’’ Alcott, of course, made a successful career out of her efforts to master her maverick temper. The autobiographical heroine of her most successful novel, Little Women, who has spoken to successive generations of readers as they endured female socialization, was modeled on her own struggles to bring her spirited temperament in accord with feminine ideals.

So in practice being good first meant not being bad. Indeed, it was some- times better not to ‘‘be’’ much at all. Girls sometimes worked to suppress liveliness of all kinds. Agnes Hamilton resolved at the beginning of 1884 that she would ‘‘study very hard this year and not have any spare time,’’ and also that she would try to stop talking, a weakness she had identified as her principle fault.

When Lizzie Morrissey got angry she didn’t speak for the rest of the evening, certainly preferable to impassioned speech. Charlotte Perkins Gilman, who later critiqued many aspects of Victorian repression, at the advanced age of twenty-one at New Year’s made her second resolution: ‘‘Correct and necessary speech only.’’

Mary Boit, too, measured her goodness in terms of actions uncommitted. ‘‘I was good and did not do much of anything,’’ she recorded ambiguously at the age of ten. It is perhaps this reservation that provoked the reflection of southerner Lucy Breckinridge, who anticipated with excitement the return of her sister from a long trip. ‘‘Eliza will be here tomorrow. She has been away so long that I do not know what I shall do to repress my joy when she comes. I don’t like to be so glad when anybody comes.’’ Breckinridge clearly interpreted being good as in practice an exercise in suppression. This was just the lesson of self-censoring that Alice James had starkly described as ‘‘‘killing myself,’ as some one calls it.’’

This emphasis on repressing emotion became especially problematic for girls in light of another and contradictory principle connected with being good. A ‘‘good’’ girl was happy, and this positive emotion she should express in moderation. Explaining the duties of a girl of sixteen, an adviser writing in the Ladies’ Home Journal noted that she should learn ‘‘that her part is to make the sunshine of the home, to bring cheer and joyousness into it.’’ At the same time that a girl must suppress selfishness and temper, she must also project contentment and love. Advisers simply suggested that a girl employ a steely resolve to substitute one for the other. ‘‘Every one of my girls can be a sunshiny girl if she will,’’ an adviser remonstrated. ‘‘Let every failure act as an incentive to greater success.’’

This message could be concentrated into an incitement not to glory and ethereal virtue but simply to a kind of obliging ‘‘niceness.’’ This was the moral of a tale published in The Youth’s Companion in 1880. A traveler in Norway arrives in a village which is closed up at midday in mourning for a recent death. The traveler imagines that the deceased must have been a magnate or a personage of wealth and power. He inquires, only to be told, ‘‘It is only a young maiden who is dead. She was not beautiful nor rich. But oh, such a pleasant girl.’’ ‘‘Pleasantness’’ was the blandest possible expression of the combined mandate to repress and ultimately destroy anger and to project and ultimately feel love and concern.

Yet it was a logical blending of the religious messages of the day as well. Richard Rabinowitz’s work on the history of spirituality notes a new later-century current which blended with the earlier emphasis on virtuous routines. The earlier moralist discipline urged the establishment of regular habits and the steady attention to duty. Later in the century, religion gained a more experiential and private dimension, expressed in devotionalism. Both of these demands—for regular virtue and the experience and expression of religious joy—could provide a loftier argument for the more mundane ‘‘pleasant.’’

…The challenges of this project were particularly bracing given the acute sensitivity of the age to hypocrisy. One must not only appear happy to meet social expectations: one must feel the happiness. The origins of this insistence came not only from a demanding evangelical culture but also from a fluid social world in which con artists lurked in parlors as well as on riverboats. A young woman must be completely sincere both in her happiness and in her manners if she was not to be guilty of the corruptions of the age. One adviser noted the dilemma: ‘‘‘Mamma says I must be sincere,’ said a fine young girl, ‘and when I ask her whether I shall say to certain people, ‘‘Good morning, I am not very glad to see you,’’ she says, ‘‘My dear, you must be glad to see them, and then there will be no trouble.’’’’’

…No wonder that girls filled their journals with mantras of reassurance as they attempted to square the circle of Victorian emotional expectation. Anna Stevens included a separate list stuck between the pages of her diary. ‘‘Everything is for the best, and all things work together for good. . . . Be good and you will be happy. . . . Think twice before you speak.’’

We look upon these aphorisms as throwaways—platitudes which scarcely deserve to be preserved along with more ‘‘authentic’’ manuscript material. Yet these mottoes, preserved and written in most careful handwriting in copy books and journals, represent the straws available to girls attempting to grasp the complex and ultimately unreconcilable projects of Victorian emotional etiquette and expectation.”

- Jane H. Hunter, “Houses, Families, Rooms of One Own.” in How Young Ladies Became Girls: The Victorian Origins of American Girlhood

#history #victorian #jane h. hunter #how young ladies became girls #gender

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

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The Bones (Reid Series) Part 2

Summary: After doing an even deeper dive on Valerie’s past, Spencer finally meets her, but his invasiveness isn’t the worst part ... the worst part is he might actually like her.

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing) Category: Series, Fluff, Soft Angst, Eventual smut and *NSFW content Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC - Valerie Content Warning: invasion of privacy, allusions to Maeve’s death, arrhythmia Word Count: 3.4k

Part 1 |

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After firmly deciding not to weave Penelope into my tangled web, I was met with the arduous burden of conducting my own research.

Firstly, I would need a computer - yeah ... a computer. That’s how far I was willing to go for this pursuit. I once vowed never to fall victim to modern technology’s clutches, and yet here I was, doing my research on a public library’s computer. To my credit, I hadn’t gone out and bought one, I was merely using my resources.

With the need for a device out of the way, all that was left was the knowledge of what to look for. But that didn’t pose a problem either.

Funny enough, with as many rules and restrictions as there are regarding patient privacy and confidentiality, all it took was matching dates of news stories with hospital records to complete my research. I was fairly certain I was only scratching the surface of information about Valerie as opposed to the sea of things I could’ve uncovered if I asked for Garcia’s help, but there are only so many lines a person can cross in one week.

This was my limit.

Call me naive, but I was actually quite surprised with just how expansive the internet is. To an almost relentless degree, I would open an article and it would lead me to ten more about the same topic. It was this never ending rabbit hole that seemed to spiral on forever. I kept digging deeper and deeper until I could no longer dig.

I’d officially hit rock bottom.

It took me a grand total of just two hours to unearth all the ‘dirt’ I could on a young Valerie Bishop.

Local 16-year-old Wins Nevada’s Statewide Art Contest! Published by Henderson Press.

Valerie, just a sophomore in high school at the time, was donning what any experimental teen girl would’ve worn in the early 2000s - bootcut jeans and a sequin blouse over top of a plain camisole. And if I zoomed in close enough, I could spot the evidence of a sparkly blue shadow coating her eyelids. Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t the first thing I noticed.

It was that smile. That tooth-achingly sweet smile.

Though I never got the chance to see Maeve truly smile, that’s what I imagined it would look like.

The photographer must’ve caught her midway through a laugh, at least that’s what the image of her slightly open-mouthed grin told me. Meanwhile, her two tiny hands were clenching her overbearingly large trophy while her artwork stood behind her as the background.

It didn’t take me long to figure out why her painting won. Simply put, there was no need to see anyone else’s art to know that they couldn’t possibly compete with hers.

Hers was an abstract rendition of what I believe to be a forest of some sort. The detail is what I was most drawn to. It would’ve been unbelievable on its own but the fact that she was 16 when she painted it? That’s what was unbelievable to me.

If that’s how talented she was at that age, I could only imagine how much more talented she became with time. However, I lost the chance to investigate the current state of her skill before a related article from The Cleveland Gazette about Valerie succeeded this one.

From Award-Winning Artist to Henderson’s Hero

Read my interview with 17-year-old Valerie Bishop to find out more about her struggle with arrhythmia and how she turned her pain into a project!

By Kelli Gallagher from the Cleveland Gazette.

Gallagher: Thank you so much for letting me interview you, Valerie.

Bishop: Of course! I’m happy to.

Gallagher: You’ve become somewhat of a hero in Henderson, Nevada, haven’t you?

Bishop: I wouldn’t call myself a hero ... but if everyone else wants to - I’m fine with that. (laughs)

Gallagher: Don’t be so modest! I mean, what you’ve done is so incredible, and you’re only what? Seventeen?

Bishop: Yes, ma’am. I just turned seventeen this past August.

Gallagher: Wow, I can’t believe how young you are and yet you’ve already accomplished so much. I saw that you won a statewide art contest last year. Tell me more about that.

Bishop: That’s a funny story actually. My Grandma Sheila was the one who entered me in that contest. I didn’t even know about it until I won it. She’s always surprising me, though. In fact, she’s the one that surprised me with my first ever art supplies, when I was about eight or so. They were these super expensive oil paints, and I knew she couldn’t afford them, so I told her we should return them and get something cheaper, but she said, “Nonsense. When the bones are good the rest don’t matter. A house don’t fall when the bones are good.” That was kind of her saying.

A house don’t fall when the bones are good.

The bones.

Gallagher: I’m interested to know more about your relationship with your grandma. If I’m remembering correctly, she was also diagnosed with arrhythmia a while back too, right?

Bishop: Yes, she was, but that’s never slowed her down. And as for our relationship, my grandma and I have always been close, but arrhythmia, in a weird way, has brought us even closer. She has always been my biggest supporter and the fact that we’re both on this journey together makes her my biggest supporter even more so.

Gallagher: Absolutely. Now, I also heard that you’ve started a fundraising program to possibly start a gallery and studio in Virginia Beach. If you don’t mind me asking, why Virginia Beach? Is there any special significance?

Bishop: Actually, that’s where my grandma met my grandpa, and they got married and started a family there, too. So if Grandma Sheila hadn’t been there to meet him, she wouldn’t have had my mom, and that would mean I wouldn’t have been here either. I like to think Virginia Beach is where it all started. In a way, it’s where my bones are. That solid foundation in Virginia gave me everything I have today.

Gallagher: That is just incredible. I’m so glad to see your fundraising project is thriving, but I can’t imagine any of this has been particularly easy for you. You were diagnosed right around the time your senior year was starting right?

Bishop: Yes ma’am.

Gallagher: So what brought you from Henderson to Cleveland?

Bishop: Well, actually, I didn’t want to move, especially not before I graduated, but Cleveland has the best cardiovascular hospital in the country and my health is far more important than graduating in the same state I grew up in. So when my parents were willing to move me and my sister out here, I saw it as a privilege rather than something to be sad about.

Gallagher: I am so inspired by you, Valerie.

Bishop: (laughs) Really, why?

Gallagher: Despite everything that’d been thrown at you, you are still so grateful. I hope you never lose that.

Bishop: I promise you I won’t.

Gallagher: So one last thing before I go, what is one hope you have for your future self?

Bishop: I hope, future self, that your ‘bones’ are still strong.

Gallagher: Beautiful. Thank you so much again for doing this, Valerie. I sincerely hope you reach your goal and you get to open up that gallery and studio in Virginia Beach.

At the bottom of the article, there was a footnote from Kelli Gallagher.

Exactly 10 years later, Bishop was able to move to Virginia Beach and open up her gallery and studio.

By the end of the article, I felt a genuine sense of pride for Valerie, and I know I had virtually no right to know these things about her, but I could still be proud of her for them right?

I would never fully get my answer to this question before I crossed the final boundary.

After exhausting all that I could gather from the internet without Penelope’s assistance, the only thing left for me to do was actually meet her in person. However, this would prove to be a bigger obstacle that it seemed. I decided to delay the daunting task until the next day. A decision partially influenced by the phrase, ‘sleep on it.’ I prayed I’d gain clarity on what to do when I woke up the next morning, but even with a night’s rest, I was still undecided as I drove to Virginia Beach once more.

To sit in my car that was conveniently parked right in front of the gallery was a poor choice. Because with every passing second, the temptation to walk in grew, but the fear of regret dampened those impulses. The more I thought about it, the more I psyched myself out. Between my two choices, to freeze or to fight, I should’ve taken the third - to flee. But I was here now and I couldn’t leave empty-handed for a second time.

After a moment’s indecision, adrenaline coursed through my veins to give me the courage to get out of my car. When I felt an outdoor breeze blow over me, I knew there was no going back now. Right when I walked in, the little bell above the door rang, solidifying that I was officially crossing the threshold, and whether I liked it or not, she was going to see me after hearing me walk in.

“I’ll be right with you!” A small voice called out from somewhere in the back. She was hidden from my immediate sight, and somehow that made it so much worse. It was now I that was waiting for her, instead of her unknowingly waiting for me.

As though I were prey getting ready to escape a predator, I stayed put by the door. It gave me a full view of the entire place anyway.

Scoping out my surroundings, I spotted the paintings that were carefully measured and placed on the walls, almost to perfection. I had no time to notice anything more before the person in the back walked out.

Immediately when I saw her, I knew.

“You’re … not Valerie.” I couldn’t help sounding so disappointed but luckily, the woman that came out took no offense to my observation.

“No, I’m not,” She laughed. “But I can get her for you-”

“No wait!” I uselessly leapt forward to stop her from saying, “Vee! There’s someone out here to see you!” But that’s precisely what she did anyway. Evidently oblivious of my previous protests, she politely smiled back at me. “She’ll be right out.”

For the second time that day, I waited with bated breath, anxiously anticipating the arrival of Valerie. And I was almost too focused on subduing the pounding of my heart to realize that she was actually walking out of the back right now.

“Hi, sorry about that!” A new voice chirped.

Valerie.

The moment I laid eyes on her, it became clear to me that the pictures in her files hardly did her justice. Nothing could compare to the real sight of her. I was only able to catch the profile of her face when I saw her in the cafe, but in her entirety, I began to wax nostalgic. Though her face and hair and body had transformed into that of a grown woman’s features, I could still identify the same tooth-achingly sweet smile that a younger Valerie once wore on the front page of the Henderson Press. She was no beast to conquer, she was just a girl, smiling at me in that same gentle way.

Her expression just as well showed no indication of recognition, not that she would recognize me, considering my letter was anonymous and unless she pulled the same stunt I did, she wouldn’t ever recognize who I was.

“I’m Val,” She made her greeting to me while untying her dirtied waist apron, and it was merely the action that caused my gaze to fall to her hips, but when she shed the apron, I was still staring. There was something sort of mesmerizing about the way they swayed as she approached. It wasn’t until they stopped swaying completely that I realized they did so because there was no more distance to advance - she was already right there in front of me, patiently watching me stare.

“Val?” I blinked hard to revert my gaze while also playing into the part that I had no idea who she was.

“Mhm. Short for Valerie,” She confirmed happily. “Like the Amy Winehouse song.”

This time, I genuinely didn’t know what she was referring to, and my confused countenance prompted her to clarify, “You don’t know that song?”

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she began to playfully sing, “Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water ...”

While she watched my face and waited for the recitation of the song to jog my memory, I was just as much studying her face. I could tell she was only kidding when she sang, evidenced by the laugh that followed her rendition, but it sounded so unironically good that I had to question what other talents she possessed.

“Um, I was actually thinking more like Valerie, the martyred medieval saint, whose name stood for strength and health.” No sooner than the words spilled from my mouth did I recognize the freudian slip - the simultaneous coincidence and confession. The coincidence was that, now, with Maeve’s heart beating in her chest, she lived up to her name - she was newly strong and healthy. But I worried, she would see the correlation I drew between her name and her successful transplant and would realize that I knew more about her than I let on. Did I just give away too much?

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier. What was it?” Her casual dismissiveness of my previous statement did nothing to ease my worries. Was she beginning to piece everything together?

“Oh, right!” I said dumbly. “S-Spencer. I’m Spencer.” I was such a blubbering bundle of nerves that I actually reached out to shake her hand - a stranger’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Spencer,” She softly laughed, which was hopefully not out of the enjoyment of seeing me squirm. “What can I do for you?”

A loaded question, don’t you think? What can you do for me, Valerie? Well, for one thing, you could’ve answered my letter, but to say something as bold as that would require me to admit the real reason I was here, and how could I do that without mentioning how I found you in the first place?

“Um ...” Whose birthday is the soonest? “My friend Emily’s birthday is coming up and I was wondering if I could possibly buy a painting from you as a birthday present.”

There was the faintest perceptible skepticism in her expression, but that could’ve just been my paranoia talking because in the next breath, she didn’t suggest a proclivity to my deceit. “Yeah, of course! Do you know what her favorite medium is? Or her favorite artist? Or her favorite style of art?”

For every addition to the question, I wordlessly shook my head no. Was my lie already unraveling? Could she see right through me?

“No worries. If you want, you can walk around the gallery and tell me if you see anything you think she’d like.” She made her offer to me sweetly, then disappeared into the back room again. I tried to follow her with my eyes for as long as I could, but from where I was standing, I couldn’t see very far into it. I wandered a little further into the center of the gallery to possibly catch a glimpse of what was occupying her time back there, but when I heard the chattering of two voices, Valerie and the other woman, coming from the same general direction, I realized I was completely alone in this part of the studio.

With no one around to bear witness but these portraits, I could’ve easily slipped out and made my escape, and I might’ve even done it had it not been for the unmistakable gravitational pull forcing me to stay here and walk about the room.

Making my way throughout the gallery, I would pause every now and then when a painting would stand out to me, which was often, considering each picture was impressive.

But there was one painting in particular that piqued my interest. It made me feel something I’d never felt before.

It wasn’t special by any means. By rights, I shouldn’t have even noticed it, for it wasn’t the largest painting, nor the smallest one - it wasn’t even the most average painting. But it felt exceptionally ... Valerie. I had no doubt in my mind that she painted this one - in fact, I had a good bet that she painted most of these portraits, if not all of them - but this one. There was just something about it that I couldn’t put my finger on.

“So,” A draft was created from where Valerie swiftly and unexpectedly joined me at my side. “What do you think?”

“Um, there’s definitely something,” I struggled to find the word. “appealing about this one.” Almost as soon as the word came out of my mouth, I knew it was only a matter of time before she called out the inadequacy of my answer.

“Appealing?” She repeated in mockery. “That’s the best you got? Come on, you’ve been standing here for like ten minutes. There must be something about it you like.”

“I’m not sure.” I honestly admitted with a shrug.

“There’s no wrong answer.” She assured me, but I found that hard to believe.

“So if I said I see a grizzly bear attacking a UFO, that wouldn’t be wrong?”

“Nope,” She popped the p. “If that’s how you interpret it then that’s how you interpret it. Just because someone else sees it differently, doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” It would’ve sounded like complete bullshit or nauseatingly cheesy coming out of someone else’s mouth, but her delivery felt so genuine. It actually moved me.

As she said this, she turned her head in my direction to look up at me, causing her shoulder to brush my upper arm, sending a wave of goosebumps all over my body.

She was so close.

But I was so unbothered by her proximity that I didn’t even notice exactly how close she really was. If someone else had invaded my personal space like that, I would’ve moved in the opposite direction just on instinct, but I didn’t even think to do that with Valerie. I was so comfortable with her being there.

But was that just because a part of her was once Maeve’s? Was the entire foundation of my likening to Valerie built upon that single attribute?

Was that my bones?

“Um,” I began fidgeting with my hands to self-soothe. “I like it. I don’t know why. But I like it. How’s that for an answer?”

There was a pause before her response that compelled me to look at her, but when I did so, she was already looking at me. “I’ll take it,” She nodded. “It’s the biggest compliment to me if my art can make you feel something.”

Was it the art that made me feel something ... or you?

“I’ll tell you what,” She walked over to grab something from the front desk. She came back with a small piece of cardstock. “I’m going to an art exhibition next weekend. Why don’t you come with me and see if you can’t find something for Emily there?”

She handed me the paper, which was actually her business card. “You don’t have to have an answer for me today, but call me when you do.” She seemed to think that was the end of the conversation, but I still had more questions.

“You’re inviting me?” was the first question that came to mind, albeit the dumbest one.

“Yeah, you can be my plus one.”

I gulped to dislodge the lump in my throat. “Like-like your date?”

She furrowed her brows with mild confusion. “Um ... sure, if that’s what you wanna call it,” which was the last thing she said to me before vanishing within the back room again.

I peered back down at the card and tapped it gently on the palm on my hand as though to register its presence really being there.

For all intents and purposes, this card was meaningless. But to me, it was the formal consenting - nay, invitation - to reach out to her again. She was willingly extending this line of contact to me.

No more public library computers. No more files. No more ‘research.’ Just her number - a way to reach her without veering off my moral compass.

Despite this, I still had no clue whether or not I was going to accept her offer.

All that I did know was that I wanted to see her again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 3 COMING SOON!

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dweemeister · 4 years

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Mad Monster Party? (1967)

You may not be aware of who Rankin/Bass are, but if you have seen a Christmas television special in the last half-century, chances are you have seen one of their works. In an increasingly fragmented popular culture, those Christmas specials remain touchstones. Among those specials from animation director-producers Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass are Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964), Frosty the Snowman (1969), Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town (1970), The Year Without a Santa Claus (1974). Primarily known for their stop-motion animation television specials, Rankin/Bass also made theatrical films at the height of their popularity. Their third feature film, despite not being released in mind for Halloween, extended the studio’s stop-motion wizardry for the first time to all things spine-tingling and spooky.

Distributed by Embassy Pictures, Mad Monster Party? is a bizarre comedy that will delight the youngest set (frankly, I have never encountered a Rankin/Bass production that wasn’t bizarre), perhaps introducing some of them to the most famous monsters in film and literature. For Rankin/Bass’ older fans (or those not acquainted with their work), this film is one of their most ambitious projects; but it is underseen, rarely televised or programmed by independent movie theaters.

Residing in a castle on the Isle of Evil is Baron Boris von Frankenstein (voiced by Boris Karloff in his final Frankenstein-related work), who also cohabits the castle with his Monster (Alan Swift, who voices all other non-female characters in the film), the Monster’s more intelligent mate (Phyllis Diller), assistant Francesca (Gale Garnett; whose character might be the most buxom Rankin/Bass character ever), and the head zombie butler Yetch (who looks and, thanks to Swift, sounds like Peter Lorre). Baron Frankenstein has just successfully concocted a formula that can destroy any matter and, as the head of the Worldwide Organization of Monsters, wishes to announce his discovery and his retirement from the organization. A who’s who of monsters receive summons: Count Dracula, the Mummy, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, the Werewolf, the Invisible Man, Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, and “The Creature” (the Creature from the Black Lagoon). Francesca notices there is one name on the list who is not a member of the organization – a pharmacist named Felix Flanken (Swift impersonating James Stewart). There has been no mistake, assures the Baron, because Felix is his intended successor. Francesca, who wanted the Baron’s position, is upset and plots to disrupt the succession. But when Felix arrives late to the mad monster party, Francesca is surprised to find that the heir apparent is inept, asthmatic, astigmatic.

Due to the filmmakers not wishing to pay royalties, some of the monsters that appear are called alternate names, even though each one is recognizable. Occasionally, Frankenstein’s monster is referred to as “Fang” (a reference to Phyllis Diller’s comedy acts, as she referred to her husband by this name during those acts); the Bride of Frankenstein becomes “The Monster’s Mate”; the Creature from the Black Lagoon is simply the “Creature”; a well-known monster that will go unnamed here due to spoilers is “It”; et cetera.

The screenplay by Len Korobkin and Harvey Kurtzman (a writer for and the founding editor of Mad magazine) contains plenty of comedic padding. Thus, Mad Monster Party? feels like an hourlong Rankin/Bass special that cannot justify its additional half-hour. Not that I minded too much in this case, despite the redundant character introductions and overlong slapstick scenes. Felix’s cluelessness onboard the ship ferrying the Baron’s guests to the Isle of Evil is situational hilarity. The variety of characters attending Baron Frankenstein’s gathering provides plenty of opportunities for them to interact with each other as a collection of dysfunctional colleagues. Their factionalism and widespread distrust between each other result in scheming and dry one-liners (including double entendres!) that complement the signature surreal humor of Rankin/Bass productions.

In a decade where monsters were having a resurgence in American popular culture (capped off by Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!), the relationships between the monsters in Mad Monster Party? feel influenced by earlier television series like The Addams Family (1964-1966) and The Munsters (1964-1966). Other influences and references will pass over the heads of most under a certain age; behaviors such as slapping a hysterical woman to make her come to her senses is deeply rooted in outdated ‘60s behavioral norms. Mad Monster Party? is funnier if one understands that there are stand-ins for certain actors: Baron Frankenstein resembles and is voiced by Karloff, Felix sounds like and acts like a Jimmy Stewart character from every romantic comedy he starred in, Yetch is obviously Peter Lorre, and the Monster’s Mate looks like and acts like Phyllis Diller. The band that plays at Baron Frankenstein’s dinner party seems to be a parody of the Rolling Stones. Though these decisions may need explaining to younger viewers and draw out the film’s runtime, the film’s comedy is just as weird as anything Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer offers. This is especially true in the final third of the film, defined by an out-of-left-field romance and an uninvited guest that wreaks havoc. These scenes give Rudolph’s “elf practice”, the reindeer’s interactions with each other, the Woodsman, and the Island of Misfit Toys a run for their money.

For almost all of Rankin/Bass’ television and film productions, the animation was entirely outsourced overseas. Such was the case for Mad Monster Party?. Using Rankin/Bass’ “Animagic” process, the film’s animation was spearheaded in Tokyo by Tadahito Mochinaga (Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, 1965’s The Daydreamer) of MOM Productions. In tandem with the character designs sketched by Jack Davis (an original artist for Mad magazine), the Japanese animators under Mochinaga meticulously moved the six-to-eight-inch puppets frame-by-frame – building open the advances pioneered by George Pal’s Puppetoons series of short films (1934-1947). The dolls’ realistic motions (or at least as realistic as such motion can be) were accomplished by using live actors standing nearby as reference. Mouth movements during dialogue was expressed using fine Japanese paper pasted for one frame and removed for the next. Each doll cost about $5,000 (just over $40,000 in 2020’s USD) to make and the animation itself was time-consuming.The production design for Mad Monster Party? represents some of the art direction in any stop-motion Rankin/Bass piece – especially the moody, cobweb-filled interior of the Baron’s castle.

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Interspersed across Mad Monster Party? are several songs composed by Maury Laws (1964’s Return to Oz, The Year Without a Santa Claus) and lyrics by Jules Bass. Like almost all songs from Rankin/Bass pieces, the songs are not well-integrated into the story, but it is nevertheless difficult to imagine skipping any of them. The songs – though a vast majority are novelty songs – provide a bolt of energy where dialogue may have been trite. “Do the Mummy” by Little Tibia and the Fibias (reportedly real-life band Dyke and the Blazers) has absolutely zero lyrical interest along with its funk rock keyboard melody – but hey, we get the puppets to dance! “One Step Ahead” is just as repetitive, but arrives with the added benefit of Karloff speak-singing his parts (and who doesn’t want more Boris Karloff?). Phyllis Diller gets a solo number as the Monster’s Mate in “You’re Different” – a number to chastise Frankenstein’s Monster for his “roving eye[s]”.

But there are two songs by Laws and Bass in a different league than the rest. The first is the title song, “Mad Monster Party”, sung by jazz singer Ethel Ennis. On my first viewing of Mad Monster Party?, I never expected an opening tune as badass as this – replete with blaring brass, stabs of percussion, and string flourishes. It sounds like it was composed by John Barry for a James Bond movie; it makes a lyric like, “Did you sell your soul to Mephistopheles?” not feel awkward. “Mad Monster Party” is a snarling, unorthodox accompaniment to the monsters’ initial introductions over the opening credits – and the most pleasant surprise of the film. Almost as brilliant is a song for Francesca, with Gale Garnett singing the ballad “Never Was a Love Like Mine”. If only the context for that song (which I will not reveal to those who haven’t seen the film) was not so peculiar.

Upon viewing the final cut of Mad Monster Party?, executive producer and Embassy Pictures founder Joseph E. Levine expressed his disappointment in the picture and decided to limit the film’s theatrical release. The half-aborted theatrical release destined Mad Monster Party? to Rankin/Bass obscurity, even though it would be carried by select American television stations as a holiday special. The studio would remain focused on Christmas material, but would infrequently dabble in non-Yuletide projects. In 1972, Rankin/Bass directed a cel-animated television movie entitled Mad Mad Mad Monsters. The film is a “prequel of sorts” and includes many of the characters from Mad Monster Party?. To this day, Mad Monster Party? exists in the shadow of the better-known Christmas television specials. It also does not help that, since Rankin/Bass’ ultimate dissolution in 2001, the studio’s theatrical feature films have been separated from the rest of the Rankin/Bass library (pre-1974 specials are owned by Universal; specials from 1974 and after are owned by Warner Bros.). At the time of this review’s publication, Lionsgate holds the rights to Mad Monster Party?.

For a time, Rankin/Bass’ stop-motion animation films and television specials were popular in North America – their projects standing out from an animation industry beholden to cel animation perfected by Disney. Mad Monster Party? is Rankin/Bass craftsmanship (and lunacy) at a feature length, and necessary viewing for students of stop-motion animation. The film plays on the horror archetypes that audiences are now accustomed to, amid some of the most beautifully-designed sets in the studio’s history. It is an ideal Halloween viewing experience, but unfortunately it does not seem it has ever reached the audience that it deserves.

My rating: 6.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

#Mad Monster Party #Mad Monster Party?#Jules Bass #Arthur Rankin Jr.#Rankin Bass #Tadahito Mochinaga #Boris Karloff #Alan Swift #Phyllis Diller #Ethel Ennis #Gale Garnett #Len Korobkin #Jack Davis #Harvey Kurtzman #Maury Laws #stop motion #TCM #My Movie Odyssey

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alindae-anne · 3 years

Text

What Makes a Book?

I want to take a break from my novel and dive into a history lesson of books themselves. Why? Well first of all, I will be honest, this blog is for an assignment. But also because the way books have evolved over the last 5,000+ years is fascinating!

Of course no one ever really thinks about THE book, just the fact that the story within its pages--the mystery, the romance, whatever they happen to be enjoying--is a great read (or maybe not so great), but have they ever wondered what materials the book is made from? Who invented it? How the book has become one of the most common and most used items of all time?

No. Of course they didn't wonder any of those things. And if they did, they probably didn't take the time to research any of these burning questions, either.

How great, then, that I wrote this post?! Today is your lucky day! (Also, it is a good thing that Keith Houston, author of Shady Characters, decided to write a whole book about it (1).) I'm going to use the pages of a classic tale to explain some cool things you probably never noticed while reading a book before.

Gulliver’s Travels was originally published in London in 1726 by Benjamin Motte. The author, Jonathan Swift, used it to satirize London society and culture, poking holes at the social hierarchies and systems, basically making out everyone living in the 18th century to be fools--but mostly the wealthy and those who were obsessed with scientific progression (2). If you have not read it, I highly encourage adding it to your reading list, or at the very least there is a 2010 movie, featuring Jack Black as Gulliver, that you could watch. (It’s Jack Black, okay?)

This 2 page spread of Gulliver's Travels pictured above is actually found in The Franklin Library edition from Franklin Center, Pennsylvania, published in 1979. This is the first printing of this edition, and its pages, the way it is printed, and the way it is bound and presented, are all features of the modern 20-21st century book, plus some extra bells and whistles. The most interesting qualities come from the publishers themselves who specifically design their books to be very snazzy--meant for collectors’ editions! They include different kinds of leather binding, exclusive illustrations, and may be signed or part of a particular series specific to a certain author or genre (3). This makes the books published here very valuable and sought after.

Gulliver’s Travels is hardcover. Specifically, “fine leather in boards.” This means the spine and front and back boards (or cover) of the book are bound in leather. The leather is fine and and delicate and able to be decorated and engraved upon.4 Above you can see how fancy it looks with the gilt gold engravements. Even its pages are gilt!

This picture shows more clearly the binding, and of course the spine, which is “hubbed,” or ridged, for added texture.

At this point you may have notice that this version is much different than the original published in 1726. That is because over time, the materials involved in making books have changed slightly or the processes have become more efficient or cost worthy, etc. Either way, the anatomy of the book has not wavered. Keith Houston has dissected the book into certain components and we can see them in each book we read:

I have attempted to label it as best as I can, so hopefully you can follow along:

Chapter Number

a) this seems to be a description, more or less of the chapter, or the Chapter Title. b) “A Voyage to Lilliput” seems much more title-like to me, although this is technically called the “Recto Running Head.” The recto running head is a condensed or abbreviated chapter title, repeating on every right-side page to the end of the chapter.

Drop Cap. This would be the first letter of the first word of a chapter, which is usually exaggerated or embellished in some way.

Opener Text

Head Margin - the space between the top of the page and text

Foot Margin - the space between the bottom of the page and text

Folio - page number

It has taken quite a while for books to become so sophisticated. Because it was published in 1726, Gulliver's Travels is technically what you could call "modern" in terms of how long ago books began their journey to what they are today, but even between 1726 and 1979 the quality has improved. This edition published by Franklin Library is a perfect model for the modern book of today.

The 2 page spread we analyzed above is made from paper. But books were not always made with paper, or even in the book form, bound with anything at all, and they were not printed either. They were written by hand on papyrus.

Papyrus was the first material used as "paper" beginning in Egypt. The reeds were stripped, strung side by side and pressed together. Papyrus was durable and sturdy, and the water of the Nile was abundant in aluminum sulfate, which brightened it so that writing and scribbles could be seen better. There is no particular origin of when Papyrus had first been invented but it must have been around the end of the 4th millenium BCE (Houston 4).

Parchment is made from animal skin that has been soaked, scrubbed, dried, and stretched for days and days, creating a more flexible, yet still durable, material for writing. It was also thinner and could be made "cleaner" and brighter by chemical means. Religion heavily influenced its distribution; some parchment use was literally banned because the type of animal skin used to make it wasn't considered "holy" or "good." For example, the lamb or a calf was acceptable, but how dare you use parchment made from goat skin? What is wrong with you?

Besides the fact that parchment is kind of gross if you think about it (although to be fair, you can’t be too choosy in times right before the common era), it was also expensive to keep certain cattle only for paper making, and the reliability of having new cattle at the time you may need more paper was not very high.

Paper was first introduced in China. It is made from bits of cloth and rags soaked in water, and after breaking down into pulp, strained through a wire grate and pressed to dry. Fun fact-- the Rhar West Art Museum in Manitowoc, Wisconsin has held classes showing how to make paper using this exact process.

There is a trend here: the materials used to make paper (and papyrus and parchment before it) become scarce or too expensive, or they are just not “good enough.” People want their paper thin and smooth, but still strong and durable; crisp and bright, but still able to last years and years without crumbling. There have been times that processes used to ensure these preferred qualities of paper included using chemicals that ended up negatively affecting some other quality. For example, the paper would be white as snow, yet the chemical that did this broke down the natural adhesives which kept the paper intact.

Have you heard that paper grows on trees? Well, that is partly true since after rags and cloths were nowhere to be found (unless people were about to start donating the shirts off their backs), wood pulp has now since been used... the higher the demand for paper, the greater demand for those materials used for its creation.

This brings us to printing side of things. The first ways of printing weren’t of how we think of it now. Even before papyrus, people were still writing and making inscriptions on pretty much anything they could get their hands on. The earliest forms of writing were rather indentations or markings on clay tablets. Found across the Middle East, it is a cuneiform script of the Sumerian people from 3300 BCE (Houston 79).

Similarly, the Egyptians were also keen on developing their own writing system which today we recognize as hieroglyphs. A lot of these were found carved on the walls of tombs but also began to be used on papyrus in 2600 BCE (Houston 82-83).

The Egyptians celebrated their scribes and believed those who wrote with brush and ink on papyrus to be channeling power--that it was a gift from the gods--”wielded with respect and humility” (Houston 87). The hieroglyphs not only showed the intention of the writer, visually, but often the picture would be associated with or connected to certain sounds which emerged more formal use of letters as time went on.

The alphabet we use today can be traced back to the Phoenician alphabet (used by the Egyptians) which had evolved into the Greek and then Roman alphabets (Houston 91-92). At this point in time, scribes were using water based ink which was fine for papyrus, but during the transition to parchment they realized that ink smudges quite a bit. This led to the creation of iron gall ink that would darken and adhere to the parchment as it dried due to its chemical makeup in contact with oxygen in the air.

Jump ahead to 1400s and we are with Johannes Gutenberg and the printing press! One thing Keith Houston make sure to mention is that although Gutenberg invented the printing press itself, to help moveable type and mass printing, the idea of printing had not been new. Clay pieces used as stamps and similar objects had been excavated and dated back thousands of years before the clay inscribed cuneiform tablets were made. And a primitive version of a sort of printing press is mentioned being made by a man named Bi Sheng during the reign of Qingli from 1041-1048 AD (Houston 110). Obviously nothing great came from it, most likely because he was of unofficial position. Even so, movable type was still possible, although painstakingly slow with wooden blocks used as stamps. This was common for the next few hundred years in China.

Even though Gutenberg's press completely revolutionized the transmission of knowledge, it was still quite slow in comparison to the versions which came after, only being able to print 600 characters a day (Houston 118). From Gutenberg's printing press came other types of presses that improved the speed or efficiency of movable type immensely. These all came after the original publication of Guliver's Travels, starting in the early 1800s with the Columbian press, eventually the Linotype, and then lack of precision called for the Monotype, which could produce 140 wpm (Houston 149).

The 2 page spread above then, could possibly have been printed by the Linotype, but most likely, however, the Monotype, which is the more accurate of the two. Another possibility could be "sophisticated photographic and 'lithographic' techniques" or "'phototypsetting'" (Houston 151). Houston mentions that the printing press age has died and now faces a digital future.

I'm at my 10 image limit which means I better wrap this up with some interesting facts about bookbinding. On BIBLIO.com I was trying to see exactly what "fine leather in boards" meant which is apparently how Gulliver's Travels is bound. I didn't find any phrase that matched, but from my understanding, the leather is very supple and pliable, which is why it was able to be gilt with gold, and it was able to form nicely to the hubbing on the spine.

The website also explains that the first "book binding" was technically just putting the pieces of paper or parchment together and pressing them between two boards. Literally. Like just setting them on a board and putting another board on top of that. Eventually leather was introduced, first as a cord wrapped around the book to keep the boards in place. As time progressed, the practice was improved and perfected so it was less crude. This involved the creation of the "spine" where the pages meet together and can therefore open and close in a v shape without flying away.

This website helped explain some of the other embellishments and extra flair that can be added to a book's binding. It mostly goes over leather binding which is from most animal skin but there is a unique leather bound book that can be bound with seal skin. Some of the books on the website are so expensive because of the materials they are bound with and the effects that have been created in the cover, for example, Benjamin Franklin's observations on electricity, which has had acid added to the page, discoloring it for a lightning strike effect, and includes a key to represent his famous experiment.

Gulliver's Travels, although not quite so fancy, is still a very beautifully bound book with decorated endpapers, meaning the inside cover is laden with designed paper rather than boring white or some other neutral color.

I hope you found this journey of the book as interesting and as exciting as I did while writing this post! You must really love books because even my attention span isn't this long. I will admit I took at least 3 different breaks.

I'm back to my novel for now, thanks for listening😎

Bibliography

Houston, Keith--Author of Shady Characters, which I used extensively in my TikTok “history of punctuation” project--also wrote -> The BOOK - a cover-to-cover exploration of the most powerful object of our time, 2016.

British Library Website -> works -> “Gulliver’s Travels overview”

Masters, Kristin. “Franklin Library Editions: Ideal for Book Collectors?” Books Tell You Why, 2017 (blog).

BIBLIO.com -> “Leather Binding Terminology and Techniques”

#bookbinding #papermaking #printing #book history #keith houston

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arcticdementor · 3 years

Link

The outdated definition of a liberal is that of a person who is tolerant of others, their thoughts, and their way of life. This traditional definition has been discarded in favour of an increasingly narrow one largely due to Karl Popper’s “Paradox of Tolerance” in which the intolerant cannot be tolerated as an ‘open society’ will eventually be seized by the intolerant. Therefore, Enlightened Despotism is the ‘proper’ way to govern a society.

It is human nature to challenge despotism and authoritarianism, especially as they fall into intellectual, spiritual, economic and personal corruption. So how are those who challenge such a system to be dealt with? Simply label them as ‘intolerant’, which makes them a de facto outlaw in society.

Christopher Rufo is one of these modern outlaws. Initally a documentary maker, his life recently has taken him down another, much more difficult route: challenging the intellectual basis of today’s American elites, that being Critical Race Theory. He has been credited with singlehandedly putting opposition to this trend on the political map by way of influencing President Trump to issue an Executive Order halting its instruction inside of federal agencies. With Biden’s reversal of Trump’s Executive Order, Rufo is now expanding the front far and wide, and winning key battles along the way.

…

All Italians are mafia so your family is definitely connected to at least one of the NYC Five Families, if not the Outfit in Chicago. You grew up watching Goodfellas and then eventually moved on to The Sopranos. You and your wop friends picked up the lingo, started talking like mafiosos, and came across as fucking idiots to everyone around you. You tried to extort a guy down the block who had a pretty strong betting book but he told his mom and his mom told your mom and your dad got out his belt and told you that you're not allowed to be hardcore. When was your first hit and why wasn't it Rod Dreher?

There is some truth to this. Like most authentic Italian-Americans, I have distant relatives in both countries who operate “family businesses.” Most of it is harmless: off-the-books car parts, bookmaking, loan collection. We had a relative in Philly who made a living hustling mobsters in golf—he would let them win just enough to keep them hooked, then empty their pockets every so often. The business had its ups and downs. Once, he was sitting with the family on a Sunday, watching the news, when his face suddenly went white. A local mob boss had been arrested. Turns out that our relative had made his living the previous few years hustling that mob boss on the golf course. “Goddammit, now I need to find a job!” he said when the news broke. Most of the time, I don’t ask questions.

…

It’s astonishing to me that as recently as the 1960s, interracial marriage was seen, correctly, as a moral cause and a sign of racial progress. Now, for some factions on the Left, interracial marriages, and mixed-race families in general, are seen as a form of oppression, domination, and false consciousness. They see interracial marriages as an expression of “white supremacy” or, for the minority spouse, as an “assimilation into whiteness.” Some lefties famously blasted Amy Coney Barrett as a “white colonizer” for adopting a Haitian orphan. We’ve gone from Loving v Virginia to Ibram X. Kendi in a single generation. And now we’re beginning to see the revival of informal social prohibitions against interracial marriage and actual racial segregation in schools, universities, and public institutions. I recently obtained photos from King County Library, which held a racially-segregated diversity training program, even hanging up signs outside the separated rooms labelled “People of Colour” and “People Who Are White.” It’s like water fountains in 1955, but in the service of 21st-century woke ideology. The new racial politics of the Left is almost parodically regressive.

…

Others have laid out different strategies in fighting CRT. Some have suggested confronting Corporate HR Trainers either overtly or subtly so that fellow employees would 'see through' its illogic and inherent awfulness. Why are these approaches either useless or even counterproductive?

You can’t persuade zealots with logic, facts, and clever argumentation; they only understand the language of power. That’s why the campaign to prove that you’re “the real liberal” or “more antiracist than the antiracists” is doomed to failure. Like it or not, Critical Race Theory is the driving force of the modern intellectual Left; they’re not going back to the philosophy of FDR, LBJ, or MLK. And they scrupulously follow the old dictum of “no enemies to the left”—they will dispatch the centrist liberals with even more vitriol and brutality than they dispatch the conservatives. This is also the core dilemma of the IDW crowd: many of them cannot imagine aligning with political conservatives; they operate under the delusion that they can “recapture the centre” and convince the planet of the virtue of Enlightenment values. That’s not how politics works. We live in a polarized political system—one winner, one loser. You’ll remember that the Girondins went to the guillotine. If, metaphorically speaking, the centrist liberals want to avoid the same fate, they will have to make an alliance with Trump-loving, truck-driving, gun-toting Middle Americans. That’s reality. We’ll see if they heed it.

…

Ibram X. Kendi is a human fortune cookie. His intellectual output is an endless buffet of word salad and phony wisdom: “Denial is the heartbeat of racism”; “In order to truly be anti-racist, you also have to truly be anti-capitalist”; “Whiteness is literally posing an existential threat to humanity.” In my investigative reporting, I’ve noticed something quite interesting: the core demographic of Kendi readers is liberal, white, middle-aged women who work in public institutions. On one hand, this is a surprise: Kendi embraces a radical vision of Black Power-style revolution. On the other hand, it makes perfect sense: Kendi’s politics provides a vicarious thrill, but is completely in line with conventional wisdom. It’s revolution without risk; it’s liberation without leaving the house. That’s really the best way to understand what he’s doing. He’s not a revolutionary; he’s a self-help guru for white liberals and a reputation-laundering mechanism for multinational corporations. He is an apostle of anti-whiteness, but a mouthpiece for elite white opinion. He preaches anti-capitalism, but accepts Visa, Mastercard, and American Express.

…

The dirty secret about Critical Race Theory and, to a certain extent, the New York Times, is that they are both extensions of the state. Critical Race Theory was incubated in public and publicly-subsidized universities and then operationalized in public agencies and public school systems. In reality, Critical Race Theory has very little organic support—it’s an artificial ideology that has the illusion of support because it has commandeered the public bureaucracy and prestige media. But you’ll notice that the Critical Race Theorists are regularly ratioed on Twitter, juice their book sales with institutional purchases, and collect corporate handouts to do their work. The New York Times is similarly situated. It’s the mouthpiece of the permanent state no matter who is in office. Its purpose is to manufacture the narrative and enforce ideological discipline. But here, too, the New York Times is less powerful than it appears. Its authority rests on its historical reputation and prestige, which is rapidly being squandered with each bogus story, newsroom tantrum, and Taylor Lorenz article. I’ll admit: I was momentarily frightened when the Times was putting together a piece attacking my work on Critical Race Theory. But it turned out to be a great coup for me: the Times made a sloppy accusation, so I quickly owned them on Twitter and generated 100 times more social media engagement in my rebuttal than they did in their attack. To top it off, conservatives consider it a badge of honour to get that first NYT hit piece, so I enjoyed a round of attaboys, high-fives, and small donations from my tribe.

…

How much do you shudder when you hear Capicolo pronounced "GABBAGOOL"?

The last time I heard that pronunciation, I shuddered so hard I threw out my back. It’s more than hate speech—it’s actual violence.

#niccolo soldo #substack #interview #christopher rufo #read the whole thing

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mittcnsblight · 3 years

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What owl house headcannons do you have for amity and her family

Hmm... Honestly, I think I put a little bit of thought into it.

My headcanons for the Blight Fam.

Blight Parents

1. First off. The parents are very recluse and proper and decide themselves when to give affection only if it is earned in their eyes.

2. The parents look down on any magic families who have not proven themselves worthy to do so. Ex. Willow’s family who may only have each other and good family values and not much in terms of wealth.

3. Mr. Blight and Mrs. Blight are both very difficult and take a lot of convincing to allow their children any kind of fun. They sign their children up for things that will make them appear very valuable to the publics eyes.

The Twins

1. Edric and Emira typically spend a lot of time together because they are close, had to fend with each other together when their parents began to care even more about status when they got older.

2. Edric & Emira are both gay and they will not tell their parents, but they will happily flaunt it when they are with their friend groups or peers. They only need to pretend when their parents are present

3. Edric is the one who helps Emira with her eyeliner in the morning. Boy just has an eye for perfection.

4. Emira is the eldest twin and even though Edric is the middle child of the family at least, he believes he’s not the baby that would be a nightmare. He prefers to prank his father with his sister whenever possible they get in trouble from time to time, but nothing too severe.

5. As the oldest children they have a reputation to uphold. They don’t always enjoy having to be in matching outfits longing for individuality, but what are they going to do? They are not old enough, or brave enough to stand up to their parents. They do get away with things more than Amity because Amity is the scapegoat of the family.

6. Although, Emira and Edric tease, mess, and bully Amity who get carried away with their pranks, after nearly killing her and Luz with their Library pranked creation from their doodles. They were horrified that they had put her in real danger and more so then ever have been extra protective and nice towards her because they care!

7. Emira is closer with Amity a little bit more than Edric is on the sister scale of things. It is because they are both girls and understand one another so Emira has had many talks with Amity as a result. Their opposite personalities do put them at a bit of a crossroads though Emira is responsible for both Amity and Edric, but will prefer to pick on them every chance she gets.

8. Edric is very protective of his sisters, especially his baby sister they have an interesting bond where he does stupid shit and she bails him out with her smarts. They can joke around a little bit more when they feel like it’s necessary with things only the younger siblings will get.

9. Since Amity was a toddler Emira has learned that scratching her pointy ears is a very effective tickle-spot for her. When they were younger Amity did try to be more older siblings or parents to the twins by telling them what to do. They would have none of that! So the twins will gang up on Amity show her how strong they are just to put her in her place when she’s being unbearably stubborn and oh so full of herself.

10. When Amity was a baby leading into a younger child the twins spent a lot of time with her they normally do the typical siblings things. However, if they had to go outside she was always prompted to hold their hands so she would not go missing, wander off and get kidnapped, or fall and get hurt.

As the older children Em & Ed are very serious about this rule and will now do it sometimes to this day even when she’s fourteen absent-mindedly. Now she can walk on her own, but who still knows what could happen?

Amity as the youngest

1. Amity has always worked hard to achieve her goal her parents set high standards for her and she does her best to fulfill them to get even the slightest bit of acknowledgement sometimes that means pulling all nighters and not sleeping for three days. This can leave her siblings distraught so they will do everything within their power to lull her to sleep.

2. Amity does not care all too much that Em is the oldest. To this day she will still try to boss her brother and sister around and it’s even much more prominent since she became a teenager. She does do her best to stay out of their way though when she wants to be doing her own thing.

3. Amity only wishes for her parents to be proud of her and when they don’t notice her she cries. A lot. Often making herself sick with worry.

4. She has told no one about her crush on Luz, but she has a really bad feeling her brother and sister know.

5. It’s not easy for her being the youngest in a rich, well-known family that title follows her all the way to school and the upperclassmen in the twin’s class know due to their relentless teasing.

There are times Viney will tell her when showering for the sports to not forget to “wash behind her ears.” because that’s what her mom tells her and her family to do. Then Emira shows up and starts making a big deal about it insisting she will keep her “baby’ sister clean then roll up a towel in the locker room.

6. Amity hates the fact that Edric likes bats and she would rather not have to witness him going out trying to find countless pets to bring home. She is usually the one who has to wrangle them up. If Em finds out they’re both dead!

7. Amity will stutter her voice around Luz when she is near so the twins try to give her pep-talks and watch anxiously for her to make her move on their fun human friend. They think she should tell her when she is ready too, but they’re also begging her to not freak out crushes are normal.

8. If Amity has a nightmare when she was younger she would crawl into her sister or brother’s bed when she had a nightmare, but nowadays that’s changed. Now it’s her brother and sister she has to keep out of her bed because they worry about her when they hear her crying. Em can make a backhanded snarky comment like: “Oh by the way Since you’re up...”

9. They bring out the worst in Amity and sometimes Amity brings out the good in them too. All the things that Luz is with her personality some her siblings can be too. In yet, she likes Luz better they just don’t get it. Amity is asked by many to stay away from her siblings or be just like them. There are so many mixed messages which one should she listen to? The Twins get angry when people tell them they are bad influences on Amity because they only believe they are teaching her how to have fun. When Amity has her own idea of fun and people who believe she is to back her up.

10. In a lot of ways all Blight siblings think the other one is lame because of their conflicting personalities it’s hard for them to bond and share interests. Vice versa all of them feel like one would be better off without the other... But then, they wouldn’t all have the courage and stand up to their parents if they all did not stay together. They’re all the family they need right now.

Sorry this is so long, but I hope it will suffice.

#my blight sibling hc #blight headcanons #the blights #long post #youryingyangjesse

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Why Eliza is the Real Hero of Hamilton

https://ift.tt/2ZATEMv

We can all woop King George III style now that Hamilton is now available for the world to watch on Disney+. The long awaited recording of the global sensation is 2 hours and 40 minutes of pure magic – a beautiful retelling of the life of Founding Father Alexander Hamilton. We presume the show is all about Alexander, as he is in nearly every scene. Although he played such an important role in the Revolution and in forming the nation’s government, the show’s namesake – Hamilton – also plays homage to his wife, Eliza Hamilton.

It may take the story unfolding for us to realise that Eliza was, in fact, the real hero of Hamilton. Not only did she play a huge role in the show, but in American history.

Eliza, then a Schuyler, is introduced with her sisters Angelica and Peggy in an early number before she takes centre stage during ‘Helpless’. Not only does she sing about how she isn’t one to ‘grab the spotlight’, but she has no concerns with the fact her fiance is penniless, and that she would be settling for far less than the high society she was born into. Her father Philip Schuyler was a Revolutionary War General, and her mother Catherine Van Rensselaer Schuyler was born into one of the richest and most influential families in New York. Whereas her Alexander was born out of wedlock to an already married woman, Rachel Faucette, and a Scotsman that abandoned the family some years later. Through the lyrical genius of Lin Manuel-Miranda, Philipa Soo explores the true selflessness of Eliza during the song.

The next time we really see Eliza is during ‘That Would Be Enough’ where she sings to her husband upon his return from war. Pregnant, emotional and not having heard from or seen her husband in months, she still remains the rock when he breaks down. She reiterates how the only thing important to her is that he remain alive and meet their son, and talks about how amazed she is by his accomplishments thus far. During this time, the real Eliza Hamilton was also assisting her husband in his political writings – much of the information laid out in the letters that would go on to be hugely influential in American Revolutionary history, were in her writing.

Then our hearts start to break. We begin to see the impact Alexander’s tenacious, legacy driven lifestyle is having on his family life. Remaining ever calm, Eliza pleads with her husband during ‘Take a Break’ rather than going full crazy mode on him (like we would…) for missing important milestones in his children’s lives. All she wants is some love and affection from her husband, not even half the devotion he gives to his country, but still remains happy when he refuses her proposal.

In 1787, pregnant with their fourth child, Eliza took in Fanny Antill, the two year old daughter of Hamilton’s closest friend Colonel Edward Antill, who had recently lost her mother. She mothered 8 Hamilton children, as well as suffering a miscarriage in the wake of her youngest child falling ill. Eliza managed to do this while maintaining her household throughout multiple moves to accommodate her husband’s career (yes, really – she did maintain her own household despite living in a very sexist and classist society), being at the forefront of American society, constantly attending dinners and having little to no private life. Sounds like the dream, right? Having your every move sprawled across the national press, and being constantly watched and judged, is the modern nightmare.

Movies

Hamilton: The Real History of the Burr-Hamilton Duel

By David Crow

Movies

Hamilton: What Drove King George III Mad?

By David Crow

What we don’t see in the show, is that Eliza aided Alexander hugely throughout his career. She acted as a mediator between Alexander and his publisher for The Federalist Papers, and is reported to have helped him perfect Washington’s Farewell Address in 1796. It’s perhaps surprising – this was the 18th century, and she was a woman – but it’s true.

Here comes the real hard-hitter. In 1797, Alexander Hamilton admitted to his one year affair with the much younger Maria Reynolds that had taken place 8 years prior. In case you missed it in the show, he doesn’t just admit his infidelity to his wife, he instead published the Reynolds Pamphlet, a 95 page document detailing how he brought Mrs Reynolds into his marital bed behind his loving wife’s back. The Hamilton-Reynolds affair was one of the first sex scandals in American political history, and was just another example of how hard it was to be a powerless wife in the limelight at this time. Most of us would up and leave the sorry man that did that to us, but instead, despite being pregnant with their sixth child, Eliza composed herself and relocated to her parents house in Albany to give birth and escape the drama.

It’s impossible not to feel your eyes flood with tears when Eliza sings ‘Burn’. Devastated when she learns about her husband’s affair through the public Reynolds Pamphlet, Eliza, like all of us would in that situation, questions whether the words he had said to her throughout their relationship had meant anything at all. She worries that her children will feel the effects of the affair, and sings with passion about her anger, shock and humiliation. For the first time, we see Eliza consciously grip control of the situation and ‘erase herself from the narrative’ in one of the show’s most powerful scenes.

Her life continued to be marred by tragedy. Just 4 years later, her eldest son Philip Hamilton was killed at 19 in a duel after his father had encouraged him to delope (fire into the air) and throw away his first shot, counsel that would lead to his untimely death. Again, we see Eliza continue to sob her way through the next number as she prays for her son to survive during the reprise of ‘Stay Alive’.

‘Forgiveness, can you imagine?’ Embarrassed and betrayed by her husband’s affair, and now heartbroken by the death of her son, which was influenced by the advice of his own father, broken and beaten, Eliza chooses to forgive and stand by her husband. Of course, this shouldn’t be overly celebrated, because Alexander was a total idiot in making those decisions, but choosing to stand by her husband’s side shows the compassion and love deep rooted within her. Just a few more years later, her brother and sister Peggy died unexpectedly, followed by her mother and then her husband in 1804. Although she had enormous privileges throughout her life, it was one also filled with sorrow and unrest.

The final scene is perhaps the most important in letting us into something that may have been quite hard to identify throughout the rest of the show. Although the majority of the story is about Alexander, we learn that the storyteller, in this case Eliza, is just as important as the person that the story is about. Let’s not forget that Rob Chernow cited Eliza as being one of the most important sources when writing the biography Alexander Hamilton, which the show is based upon. This is Eliza’s story, too. Without her, we wouldn’t know as much about Alexander, or his role in the Revolution and American politics, as we do today.

A new element of the story is introduced in the final few moments when Lin Manuel-Miranda steps outside of his character as Alexander, and into his real self. Lin then introduces Eliza to the audience, where she can see what her work has done. She gasps and grabs hold of her heart in astonishment as she sees how she has helped immortalise the story of her late husband, and of a huge chunk of American Revolutionary history.

We don’t see much from Eliza after the death of Alexander, but we do learn about some of the things she accomplished following his death. She helped raise funds to memorialise George Washington with a statue in D.C., she spoke out against slavery, and defended her husband against his critics and dedicated the rest of her life to telling his story. But there are stories we don’t see. Eliza was so devoted to preserving his legacy that she reorganised all of his paperwork and letters along with their son John and fought relentlessly to get his biography published. With the help of his mother, John C. Hamilton would go on to publish his father’s first biography. She was known for wearing a small package around her neck that contained a sonnet which Alexander wrote for her during their early courtship. Even during her nineties, she prompted Congress to allow her to buy and publish Alexander’s works, adding them to the Library of Congress to help future historians know him.

But what is she proudest of? She founded the Orphan Asylum Society, dedicating over 42 years of her life to caring for and educating over 700 children. Eliza is noted as being one of the first female philanthropists, and is regarded as one of the most generous Americans that reformed the nation.

At the very end when singing with the ensemble, she asks for the first time “will they tell my story?” rather than “will they tell your story?”, showing that she remained modest and selfless to the very end. Everything was all about the greater good or her family.

She really is the ‘Best of Wives and Women’.

The post Why Eliza is the Real Hero of Hamilton appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3gFJp03

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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sephspark · 4 years

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The Untamed Characters as People In My Library

I work in a public library (extremely rural, extremely American) and was possessed by the idea of “children’s entertainer Wei Wuxian” and this spiraled from there. I’m a children’s librarian so my bias is Obvious.

Wei Wuxian: children’s musician/performer. Does dance/music programs, encouraging the kids to get up and move while he plays. Creates absolute chaos because 3 year olds are not coordinated, but no one cries. The kids’ favorite, even if he’s on thin ice with the rest of the staff. Technically, he’s not even staff, but his sister is the children’s librarian and he’s in so often he might as well be. Does most of his programs for free because “Musical Literacy Is Important, Wen Qing, I’m Not Going to Tell”. Writes his own programs to avoid paying royalties.

Lan Wangji: traditional children’s musician. Comes in once or twice during the summer to do cultural programs about Gusu music. Extremely popular, libraries fight over getting him in. Very reserved, quiet, not all that good with the kids but they love him anyway. Does a great job drumming up business for the local music teachers. You’d think he’d be expensive, but he lets the libraries name their price, and even then he usually negotiates down.

They’re usually scheduled to do programs on the same day or at least the same week, given the similar content. Get into fights frequently in the break room over pedagogical differences. Everyone keeps begging Jiang Yanli to schedule them further apart. She just smiles.

(Everyone except for Jiang Yanli is surprised when they go into business together. There’s a betting pool on the break room fridge for how long before one of them kills the other, and who’s going to snap first. MianMian wins with a write-in answer of “neither, they’re going to get married”.)

Jiang Yanli: youth services librarian. Everyone loves her. Knows all of the children by name, keeps in touch with their parents. The kids all call her shijie or jie-jie, even when they’re teenagers. A master at sliding informational cards into the hands of little queer kids without their parents seeing. Had two weddings: the actual ceremony, and then a second ceremony the next day where she wore her wedding robes to the library so “her” kids could see. She only meant to drop by for a few hours, but ended up staying and working the whole day, because Wen Yuan wouldn’t let go of her leg. She did delay her honeymoon by a day for that. Currently taking a year off to care for her newborn son.

Nie Huaisang: youth services librarian. Did Not Expect to be put in charge when Jiang Yanli left for a year. Better at it than you’d think; he’s been helping her run things behind the scenes for a while now (they have weekly “department meetings” where they lock themselves in the office and either scheme over the budget or complain about rude patrons). Kids like him because he’s “silly”. Definitely plays up being clumsier than he is, pretends he doesn’t know really simple information (kids are convinced he doesn’t know math), gets REALLY into it during story time. He’ll be happy to go back to being an assistant when A-Li gets back, but he’s still enjoying himself.

Mo XuanYu: youth services specialist. Fifteen minutes late to work with Starbucks everyday, but by god, they’re so short staffed they can’t afford to fire him. Also, he goes on coffee runs for the whole building. Also also, he’s got access to that Jin Clan money, in that Jin Guangshan paid him off to stay quiet about being a bastard until JGS croaked of a heart attack (no one cried). Hates kids. Why is he in the children’s department? It was better than packing boxes. GREAT with social media, a one-man marketing department. Reluctantly very good at puppet shows and is bullied into doing them weekly by Jiang Yanli.

MianMian: circulation manager. Helps out in youth services when Nie Huaisang really needs it. In charge of the money. Looks sweet, great with families. Has a strict “do no harm but take no shit” policy. Has connections to all the shelters so she can send people somewhere they can get support instead of just throwing them out for trying to sleep in the alley or bathing in the bathroom. Never seen without a cup of coffee (once a month she’ll shove $100 into the hands of an intern and send them to the shop up the street to get coffee for the whole library). Has your back with combative patrons. Can, will, and has banned people from the building for being rude.

Wen Ning: shelver. Doesn’t talk a lot but takes great joy in making sure that the library is in perfect order. Knows where everything is. Probably knows every book in the library, but he’d never admit to it. Hears SO MUCH gossip. Will leave a book on someone’s table if they’re struggling that’s relevant to whatever they’re going through. Anonymously runs the online Readers’ Advisory blog column. Will push the kids around on the shelving cart if they ask (frequently gets in trouble for this). Has broken a cart pushing Wei Wuxian around (did not get in trouble for this because Wen Qing was too busy dragging Wei Wuxian to an inch of his life for being a bad influence).

Wen Qing: county librarian. Has this shit on lock. Takes no nonsense from the local government; she’s not here to flirt her way through budget meetings or sacrifice her intelligence so that the men in charge will give her funding. She’s run this library on a shoestring budget in the past and she’ll do it again before she plays the fool. Occasionally brings her nephew, Wen Yuan, to work with her for the day when his grandmother can’t care for him. Everyone respects her but they’re also a little terrified of her. She likes it that way.

Lan Xichen: adult services manager. Works very closely with the geneaology department. Like, VERY closely. Has seen everything you could possibly imagine. No longer reacts when patrons are watching porn, just remotely shuts their computer down from his desk. Great with old women. Occasionally ventures down to circulation to defuse the situations where MianMian can’t afford to kill someone/ban them from the building. Knows what you’re looking for before you even open your mouth. Knows exactly which “book with a red cover” you’re looking for. It’s a little freaky. Runs a weekly meeting to help college kids with their research projects (finding materials and proofreading), a meeting to help people with job applications, and a creative writing club. Desk is covered in thoeretical treatises and bodice-ripper romances.

Meng Yao: acquisitions and geneaology manager. You don’t ask how he gets those rare books, you just catalogue them. Made geneaology its own department, separate from adult services, even though he’s usually at Lan Xichen’s desk chatting and drinking tea. Definitely a geneaologist out of Spite but he’s good at cataloguing that kind of information in his brain, remembering who’s in what family and whose family had historical beef with who, who fought in what war...basically an encyclopedia. Runs a blog of the historical scandals he discovers through his patrons’ research, with names changed for privacy. There’s some REAL wild shit in there if you know where to look (he does). Does not speak much to Mo XuanYu, but they do trade the Look of two men who do not miss their deadbeat (dead) father. He’s the one who put up the betting pool on whether or not WWX and LWJ would kill each other. Still owes MianMian his part of the pool.

A-Qing (Xiao Qing): intern. Works in whatever department needs her the most that day. Always coming up with ways to make the library more accessible, even if she has to jury rig something herself. Takes coffee breaks with Mo XuanYu. Frequently overrides the time limit on the public computers for kids who are just trying to do their homework; an hour isn’t a lot of time to do a week’s worth of schoolwork, and most of them don’t have internet at home (or a stable home). She’s been there. Not allowed to work the circulation desk because she Will fight patrons if they try to get an attitude with her, and she’s not a manager, so she doesn’t have the power to fight them like MianMian does.

HONORABLE MENTION:

Jin Zixuan: the library’s sugar daddy. Head of the Friends of the Library (aka the totally legal money laundering operation). Makes so many anonymous charitable donations whenever his wife mentions the library needs funds for something. Makes plenty of non-anonymous ones, too, but those are for the Big Things that are expected of someone in his position. To the public, the library is simply his passion project, his charity work. Everyone who knows him knows that he is 100% whipped for Jiang Yanli and would probably sign his soul over to the library if needed to keep the place afloat. Wen Qing KNOWS it’s him, but she can’t do anything about it, so they trade passive aggressive barbs at fundraising dinners and book sales. Has had at least one breakdown in front of MianMian where he asked her to get parenting books out of the children’s room for him because he couldn’t let A-LI KNOW that he’s WORRIED about having a CHILD! What if he turns out like his own father?! He doesn’t know how anything about raising children!!!

Song Lan: no one really knows what his job is, but it has something to do with private security and he’s not a cop because his daughter has an “ACAB” sticker on her water bottle. Definitely gave his cell number to everyone and told them to call him Just In Case a patron turns violent or there’s something happening in the parking lot (Nie Huaisang called him once when some frat bro was cat-calling the female staff; Wen Chao didn’t do that again). Looks like he could kill you, could actually kill you, and is a cinnamon roll. Likes to chat about philosophy with Lan Xichen. Has to have A-Qing help him use the computer every time he comes in. They’re all pretty sure he’s just playing dumb so his daughter can show off.

Xiao XingChen: an absolute goddamn delight of a patron. Comes in every two weeks and asks for some extremely obscure book you KNOW doesn’t exist in audio form (if it even exists in a form that isn’t “300 year old parchment paper”) but he always smiles and says his daughter will read it to him, they love talking about philosophy together, and you also KNOW A-Qing does because she’s co-opted the youth services supply closet as a recording booth. Always wants to listen when you’re stressed out and having a hard day. Probably a therapist? You don’t know what he does for a living, either, but you’re less afraid to ask him than you are his husband. Honestly it just seems rude that you don’t know at this point so you’re not going to admit ignorance! Don’t ask! Runs a community program helping teens get ready for college and apply for scholarships, in collaboration with Lan Xichen’s programs. Is he a school counselor? You’re still not going to ask.

Jiang Cheng: also part of The Friends of the Library with Jin Zixuan. They’ve got a begrudging partnership which is “we’re both whipped for the women in charge of this library and we’re going to give them Everything They Want”. Would be dating Wen Qing if it wasn’t a terrible breach of ethics. Makes love-sick puppy eyes at her during the monthly meetings. Comes in with the local animal shelter every Wednesday evening to promote the spay/neuter program and give coupons for it. He can’t have dogs because his brother is deathly allergic, but he can pet all the Good Boys and Girls at the shelter that he wants. He is a little tired of the “Cheng-spotting” Facebook group that Wei Wuxian started, where everyone posts candids of him walking various shelter dogs around town. (Actually he thinks it’s fun, but he’s never going to admit that.)

DISHONORABLE MENTION:

Xue Yang: has had his library card revoked. Does not wear headphones to listen to screamo music about dismemberment on the public computers. God, you hope he’s an anatomy student, you’re really tired of his search history. He says it’s “research” and then refuses to elaborate. For a paper? For a book?? For MURDER?! You don’t know! You don’t think you want to know! The reason Lan Xichen has a “kill switch” for the public computers. Banned from the premises but he keeps getting back in somehow.

#the untamed #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mo watches the untamed #mo reads mdzs #i dont know how to tag things for this fandom so?#anyway please enjoy whats probably going to be my only contribution bc i enjoyed making it #listen. listen. i love my evil son xue yang but! he's banned! no internet privileges! a-qing will still beat you to death in adult nonfic!#ok to reblog!

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imagitory · 5 years

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D-Views: Mary Poppins

Hello, everyone, and welcome to another installment of D-Views, my on-going written review series where I dive into and analyze movies from Disney’s extensive film library, and even occasionally those influenced by that library. For other reviews in the series for movies such as Frozen, Enchanted, The Little Mermaid, and Lacewood Productions’ The Nutcracker Prince, feel free to consult the “Disney Reviews” tag! And as always, if you enjoy any of my reviews, please consider liking and reblogging them!

Today, thanks to the votes cast by @karalora, @banana-9-pancakes, and @aceyanaheim, we’ll be looking at the story of a magical woman -- one who is prim, proper, and practically perfect in every way...Mary Poppins!

Production-wise Mary Poppins is in some ways the culmination of everything Walt Disney learned in his thirty-year-long film-making career. It adapted a classic, whimsical story as an charming, emotion-heavy screenplay, like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs -- it featured a fresh-faced, but extremely talented young singer in the title role, like Sleeping Beauty -- it seamlessly combined animation with live action, like Song of the South -- it had state-of-the-art special effects, like 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea -- and it featured music by two songwriters who later went on to write Disney film scores for decades. But all of that started with a tiny, little spark. As a little girl, Walt’s daughter Diane had started reading the Mary Poppins books, and when Walt read along with her, he was absolutely enchanted by them and knew he wanted to adapt the stories for the silver screen. All the way back in 1938, one year after the release of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Uncle Walt had his first meeting with Mary Poppins’s creator, P.L. Travers, but as anyone who has seen Saving Mr. Banks knows, the two did not see eye to eye. Uncle Walt spent the next twenty years trying to convince Travers to give him the rights to her stories, but unlike in the film where they had a sincere meeting of the minds, Travers recalled their final meeting where she gave him the rights as being more like Walt “holding up a gold pocket watch and dangling it tantalizingly in front of [her] eyes.” Admittedly one factor in the situation was that Travers herself had been having some financial trouble, and Uncle Walt’s payment for the rights to her books, as well as a portion of the gross profits for a film adaptation, was a boost that Travers severely needed. Despite the rights being given to Disney, however, Travers retained script approval rights, and for the next few years of production, she had quite a few complaints about the product. Even at the premiere of the film -- which, incredibly, she had not originally been invited to until she shamed a Disney executive into action -- Travers was very vocal about how much she disliked the film. The animation, done by some of the best in the business? Had to go. The story, which created such memorable and likable characters? Lacked teeth. The score written by the young Sherman brothers, who later went on to win awards for both Poppins and their other works? Left her cold.

Now, here’s the thing...do I agree with Ms. Travers? No. Do I like her as a person? No -- one would be hard-pressed to really admire a woman who decided to adopt half of a pair of twins from a poor family, raise the boy thinking he was her biological son, and then try to prevent her son from seeing his twin when the twin came to see him. (Yes, she really did that.) Do I think she was a malcontent who probably wouldn’t have been satisfied with anything? Absolutely. But at the same time, I must acknowledge, as a writer myself, it can be very difficult to share your creations with others. It can be hard even letting others read your works, given how personal and emotionally resonant the things you create often end up being, but it’s even harder letting others add onto your work. In a way, it’s like giving your child to a babysitter, except that unlike babysitters, most filmmakers who aim to adapt books don’t have a great track record in respecting the author or their vision. And in regards to Walt Disney specifically, his studio has never exactly been very interested in “staying true to the original story” -- the Walt Disney Company adapts the heck out of anything it touches. Even more modern Disney projects based on books like Ella Enchanted and Tuck Everlasting are great examples of this (if you’d like to delve into those films as adaptations, please look up Dominic Smith/The Dom’s wonderful Lost in Adaptation episodes for them -- they’re both fabulous!!). And in a way, Travers never saw her magical nanny as something light and cheerful -- this was an immortal woman who in later books once took the Banks children up into the Heavens on Midsummer’s Eve. Like the famous 1939 film adaptation of L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, there was definitely some dry wit and edge lost in translation from book to screen...and just like with The Wizard of Oz, Mary Poppins the film has largely taken the place of the original novels in the public consciousness.

But you know something? For what it’s worth...I think that, just like The Wizard of Oz, Mary Poppins succeeds in being a well-written, well-directed, well-performed, classic film, even if it’s so different than the book it was inspired by. And honestly, the world seems to agree. Mary Poppins grossed over $28.5 million at the box office, making it the most profitable film of 1965, and completely won over both critics and audiences alike. Even now at Rotten Tomatoes, it still boasts a rare 100% Fresh rating. It was nominated for 13 Academy Awards and won five (including Best Picture, which made it the first and only film Walt ever produced to win that honor) and also earned both a Golden Globe and two Grammys. Not only that, but the profits for the film were so high that they helped Uncle Walt fund his “Florida project,” which would eventually become Walt Disney World Resort. Mary Poppins later went on to inspire both a Broadway musical and a sequel, Mary Poppins Returns, and even today you can still meet both Mary Poppins and Bert in the Disney theme parks. So yes, “I recognize Ms. Travers had her opinion, but given that it is a stupid-ass opinion, I’ve elected to ignore it.”

PFFT, I’M KIDDING, ONLY KIDDING. Let’s talk about Mary Poppins.

Perhaps it’s appropriate that from the very beginning, the overture embraces us with the melody that will become the story’s main theme, Feed the Birds. The overture, like all the best Sherman brother overtures for films like Bedknobs and Broomsticks and The Sword in the Stone, is just a smooth, glamorous kaleidoscope of music. I also have to applaud the special effects team right off the bat with their overlaying of Julie Andrews as Mary onto the mat painting of London underneath our opening credits -- even now, when one can more easily guess how the trick worked, it’s still rather neatly done.

In this opening sequence, we also meet Bert, played by Dick van Dyke. The character of Bert was actually a compilation of several figures from the books, but that results in a very interesting, almost transient sort of character. This cheery, optimistic Jack of All Trades may have an accent that wouldn’t convince anyone, but is nonetheless unbelievably charming, and van Dyke’s physical comedy is so ridiculously on point. My mum and I have had a soft spot for Dick van Dyke for a long time because my late grandfather, although he was quite a bit older, resembled him quite a bit not just in appearance but also in attitude. Even now I look at Bert and fondly remember going to see the Broadway production of Mary Poppins with my grandparents, who ended up loving it and its music just as much as I did. It all the more makes me lament the end of the Soundsational Parade at Disneyland, which always concluded with a Mary-Poppins-inspired float covered in chimney sweeps and merry-go-round horses, one of which was ridden by Bert.

One of the changes that Ms. Travers was most disdainful of was the idea that the Banks family -- especially Mr. Banks -- had flaws that needed to be addressed and fixed by Mary Poppins. The flaw in the parents’ case is that they’re so focused on their own work and goals that they neglect their children’s emotional needs -- a plot point that would eventually get beaten into the ground in films that came later, but is not done half bad here. After all, the film doesn’t try to frame Mr. Banks’s job or Mrs. Banks’s activism as unimportant or bad in any way -- it’s just that the parents are solely focusing on those things. Mrs. Banks’s activism in particular, which is something that doesn’t appear either in the books or in the Broadway production, is something I really like. Sister Suffragette, which actually helped bring Glynis Johns on board to play Mrs. Banks, is just such a ridiculously fun song to sing. Although I wouldn’t ever say it’s the best song in the film by a mile, it’s still insanely catchy and entertaining, and I sing along to it every single time. WOMANKIND, ARISE!

David Tomlinson, who plays Mr. Banks, is easily the weakest link singing-wise, but fortunately he gives an acting performance that more than compensates for his poor vocals. From the very beginning, he comes across as incredibly pompous, self-centered, detached, and sexist, and yet he’s never shown to be an inherently bad person. He can be very cheerful, and even the way he’s framed makes it clear that a lot of his bluster is a front for his actual feelings, such as the way he falters when he realizes that Katie Nana has left the family. In the wrong hands, this role could’ve been despicable and shallow, but Tomlison handles it carefully enough that one can always see the emotion and suppressed softness in his eyes even long before he has his change of heart.

After an excellently paced entrance that involves effortlessly blowing away the line of nannies outside 17 Cherry Tree Lane, we are finally fully introduced to the magical lady herself, Mary Poppins. It is unbelievable when you remember that this was Julie Andrews’s first film role ever -- she’d previously only been a stage actress, but after finding success in both My Fair Lady and Camelot on stage and being denied the role of Eliza Doolittle in the film adaptation of My Fair Lady (which was later given to Audrey Hepburn), Julie accepted the role of Mary Poppins. Interestingly Julie was the only actor in the movie that P.L. Travers actually expressed some approval for, and honestly, I don’t blame her -- Julie is just flawlessly cast here. The role combines all of her performing strengths -- a great singing voice, expert dancing, inherent charm, sophistication, intelligence, pride, grace, and a touch of sass -- together in a cohesive, memorable character. Mary’s first song, A Spoonful of Sugar, really showcases Julie in her prime, spotlighting her flawless falsetto and precise pitch (as well as her impeccable whistling), and beautifully accompanies some of the at-the-time-revolutionary special effects. Although yes, it’s easy in the modern day to see how the effects were done, they’re never out-of-place or distracting, which is a testament to how much better practical effects can sometimes age in comparison to computer-generated effects. The things that tend to stick out most to my eyes are the green-screened stuff, simply because of how much that particular technique has been used in film and television since Mary Poppins’s release, but the nice thing is that it’s only one of many effects used, which helps in distracting the eye away from getting too used to one effect. Sometimes the effect will be stop-motion; sometimes the effect will be reversing the film; sometimes it’ll be green screen; sometimes it’ll be combining separate shots together. It makes it so that you would have to watch every scene several times and very carefully in order to pick out specific techniques, rather than just being able to go, “That’s fake, that’s fake, aaaaand...that’s fake,” the way you can while watching movies using only CGI.

Speaking of special effects, we have to talk about the sequence that made P.L. Travers the most upset -- the Jolly Holiday segment, set in an animated, living chalk drawing. Not only is the song just excellent, but the colors and energy of the piece are...well, practically perfect! It only serves to plus a song that was already pretty great and turns it into something amazing. Something else I like about Mary and Bert that I actually have to thank P. L. Travers herself for is that they are not romantically involved. Ms. Travers specifically indicated that that should be the case, and for a film made in the 60′s when male and female characters were almost always neatly paired off, it’s really neat that the two characters, despite some faintly teasing, flirty affects, never act like a couple. And really, having had both male and female friends since I was a kid, I really enjoyed seeing an attractive leading woman and man as friends. On the note of Mary, Bert, and songs I love singing along to, I would be very, very amiss if I didn’t also bring up Supercalifragalisticexpeliadocious. It’s really a very short number, but packed into it is so much energy that it feels like it never takes a breath. It’s like a sugar buzz, written into song form -- exuberant and big and loud and energetic...at least until the inevitable decrescendo as the rain wears away Bert’s chalk drawing and Mary, Bert, and the Banks children sadly return to the real world.

Our next adventure with Mary takes us to dear old Uncle Albert’s, where the aforementioned uncle, played by Mad-Hatter-voice-actor Ed Wynn, is rolling in the air laughing. This scene in particular showcases the various practical effects used in the film, whether hanging the actors on wires, putting them on one side of a seesaw, or even flipping the entire set on its side or upside down. Admittedly it’s very obvious that Katie Dotrice and Matthew Garber, who play Jane and Michael Banks, are having a harder time laughing convincingly than Dick van Dyke and Ed Wynn, which honestly is unsurprising given how many times they had to film this particular scene so as to get different shots. One story from the set of this film centers around Matthew Garber, after getting tired of recording the scene, receiving a nickle every time he had to go back onto the wires and in the end earning an “absolute fortune.” For child actors, Katie and Matthew aren’t awful, but it’s fortunate that they’re almost never the sole focus of a scene, as the more talented adult actors understandably overshadow them. And before you try to tell me it’s unfair to hold child actors to the same standards as adult actors, I grant that that’s true, but child actors can still give good performances that make them stand out as individuals...take Georgie Henley in The Chronicles of Narnia or Kirsten Dunst in Interview with a Vampire, for example. And as much as I’ll give Katie Dotrice and Matthew Garber credit for their performances, neither of them quite stands out that way. It’s admittedly a little harder for me to be that critical of Matthew’s performance, though, given that ten years after he retired from acting, he sadly passed away of pancreatitis at the age of 21. It’s very fortunate that thanks to his performance in Mary Poppins, Matthew will be remembered fondly for generations to come.

Walt Disney’s favorite song is frequently cited as Feed the Birds, and honestly, it’s little wonder why. As I touched on earlier, the song sort of sums up what the film Mary Poppins is trying to say -- that the smallest, seemingly insignificant gestures can mean so much. And isn’t that so integral to Disney, or even movies and entertainment in general? We all know of a character in a movie or TV show -- a line in a book -- a song someone wrote -- a simple smile from a stranger -- that somehow brightened up our whole world, that inspired us in ways we could never have imagined. And all of that comes back to sincere, gentle feelings, and how we can share those feelings with others. Mary Poppins, in short, is about compassion...and isn’t it little wonder why such a message resonated with so many people?

After an absolutely disastrous visit to the bank, the Banks children run out into the streets of London alone, where they’re fortunately found and walked home by Bert. Accompanying the jaunt back to Cherry Tree Lane is the Academy-Award-winning song Chim Chim Cheree, which is definitely catchy and, if I may say so, very fun to whistle. I admittedly am a little sour with Mrs. Banks that she doesn’t get a bit of a reality check when she ends up choosing to leave Michael and Jane alone with someone who’s effectively a stranger to her to go help her suffragette friends. It’s just fortunate that the “stranger” ends up being Bert and that Mary Poppins ends up coming back despite it being her day off, as otherwise Mrs. Banks’s negligent parenting could’ve had serious consequences. But the leap in logic does end up leading us into one of the best parts of the movie -- Step in Time!

Step in time, step in time, come on, matey, step in time! Hahaha, yes, this sequence easily has some of the best dancing ever recorded on film, right up there with the choreography in West Side Story and Singin’ in the Rain. It’s especially remarkable when you know that prior to Mary Poppins, Dick van Dyke had had no formal dance training, and yet he keeps up seemingly with ease with dozens of professional dancers. It blows me away every time. And despite the unending repetition of the song, it miraculously never becomes annoying due to the variety of the dance breaks and the high level of energy with which it’s performed. And really, despite the insane length of the song (it running over eight minutes all together), it amazingly never feels like padding. Perhaps it’s because the talent on screen is just so on display and integrated so perfectly with the building orchestrations and well-chosen special effects that it only serves to plus the musical action more and more and more until it finally culminates in the chimney sweeps escaping down the Banks family’s chimney and dancing off into the street.

As fun as everything has been with Mary Poppins and the chimney sweeps, however, Mr. Banks is now in danger of losing his job at the bank, and Tomlinson’s talent is made very evident once again in how, even after seeing all of his character’s mistakes and faults, we still feel very sorry for both him and for his family. Mr. Banks at first feels the impulse to blame Mary Poppins for his change in circumstances, but thanks to some pointed guidance from Bert and some compassion from his children, he comes to see the cracks in the foundation of his world view. And this goes back to the entire family needing help -- Mr. Banks is a very, very flawed man, but at the same time, as Bert brought up to Jane and Michael, he feels he has to handle absolutely everything on his own, and it’s largely thanks to the support of his children that he’s able to face the threat of losing his job with his head held high. Something I love a lot about the part where Mr. Banks makes his way to the bank alone is the Feed the Birds instrumental that accompanies his walk and that comes to a head when Mr. Banks reaches St. Paul’s, only to see the bird woman no longer there. Whether you choose to read it as the bird woman simply having left or having died or whatever else, it’s clear that every opportunity for charity and kindness we are offered is fleeting. Compassion is and will never be a passive thing.

Fortunately everything turns out for the best. Mr. Banks makes up with his children and he, Michael, Jane, and Mrs. Banks go fly a brand new kite in the park, alongside the film’s final song Let’s Go Fly a Kite. Mr. Banks even ends up getting his job back thanks to a joke that he told Dawes, Sr. the night we sacked. Even despite the cheer, however, it doesn’t feel completely saccharine and lacking of substance to me because Mary Poppins does still leave in the end. She doesn’t achieve the same kind of happy ending that she gave the Banks family -- instead she simply takes off into the air, presumably to give some other family help, with a faintly sad smile on her face. It’s remarkably mature of an ending for something that P.L. Travers thought was “all fantasy and no magic.”

Mary Poppins is not that much like the Mary Poppins books originally written by P. L. Travers. Perhaps at some points it sanitizes or misses out on what inspired Ms. Travers to write the books in the first place...but for all that is lost, I’m confident in saying that a lot was also found. There is a lot of heart in this movie, from a family growing and improving through the intervention of a wise, magical woman to finding deeper meaning in the seemingly insignificant things in our everyday lives. This movie is ridiculously fun to watch, but it’s not like the book Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, where there was never supposed to be a point and it was just there to entertain children. There are lessons one can learn here, and they’re not heavy-handed or pretentious in their delivery. One can learn the value of a sunny disposition, resilience, and empathy in less than stellar circumstances and see how a family full of love is the wealthiest and luckiest of all. And the best part? Those are lessons that both children and adults could stand to learn and re-learn through watching this movie for many, many years to come. Mary Poppins is an immortal figure, and even if this film was made by human hands and so couldn’t possible recreate P. L. Travers’s vision of her, the film is just as eternally relevant itself.

#d-views #disney reviews #mary poppins #disney #p.l. travers #opinion #analysis #reviews #walt disney #julie andrews #dick van dyke #pamela travers

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s-n-arly · 4 years

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A Peek into the Indie Writer World – Part IV: A Walk Through the Process

If you’re thinking of going indie, or have already decided to, you may find yourself wondering what steps you need to take. This is a look at the process, focusing on hard copy books and e-books.

The short version, in bullet format for those with very little time:

Write your story

Identify your output product(s)

Copy edit your story

Purchase and/or assign ISBNs

Request PCN (hard copy print only)

Format the story

Create front matter for printed work

Cover art and design

Publish

Market

The longer version with more details below the cut.

Write Your Story

There are many different ways to write. Use whatever process works for you (drawn out, under tight deadline, or anything in between). Revise and edit your draft to ensure you have the best possible version you can. Many people like to use critique groups or beta readers, other people don’t. The key is that your content (poetry, short stories, novella, or novel) is the highest quality you can make it.

Identify Your Products and Process

You can start looking at the various products and printers out there while you’re still in the writing stage. As your story gets closer to being ready to print, you’ll want to have some decisions on your starting point, at least. Will it be an e-book with print to follow? Or do you just want to start with the e-book and see how it goes? Your plans will influence some of your next steps.

Copy Edit Your Story

Most people think of this as proofreading, finding and fixing typos, spelling mistakes, and grammatical errors. In this case, it also includes ensuring your soon to be published book has a consistent style.

Style is a set of rules that provide a uniform look to a document. This includes things like use of font, font attributes (bold, italic, underline), implementation of flexible or optional grammar (such as the Oxford/serial comma), and the presentation of specialized terms. Most fiction publishers have a house style built off Chicago or AP style, both of which have handy manuals. It ultimately doesn’t matter what style you go with, as long as you are consistent.

In the editing world, style often includes formatting elements, but for the indie writer, some of that formatting will vary depending on the product or products you’re producing.

Things to Watch For

Consistent spelling for names of people and places

Consistent terminology for magic or world-specific details (eg: does the world use shape-shifter, shape shifter, or shapeshifter?)

Use of numbers (phone, age, height, distance) are generally spelled out in fiction

Consistent units of measure (unless there’s a good reason for it, you don’t want to randomly switch between metric and imperial)

If attention to detail and copy editing aren’t your strong suits, copy editing is something you should plan to hire out. You can also just hire someone for the pieces you need done. If you have a handle on your house style, but want someone else to proofread, that’s totally a thing that people do.

Purchase or Assign ISBN

If you’re printing with a company that offers a free International Standard Book Number (ISBN), and you’ve chosen to go that route, you can skip the purchasing step. I personally prefer to have full control of all my ISBNs, allowing me to take them with me if I switch printers or distributors.

Buy your ISBN in advance via Bowker. You will need one ISBN for each product you are producing. A trade paperback needs a different ISBN than a hardcover or audio book. There’s often a discount to purchase multiple ISBNs at one time.

Once you have any needed ISBNs for this project, you’ll need to link the number to a book title, and provide some information on the book and edition (publisher, summary, cover etc). This is a good time to perfect your back-cover blurb or teaser. You can come back and update much of the ISBN information later if you don’t have all the elements at the time you’re doing this.

Request a Preassigned Control Number (print copies only)

If you’re based in the US, you’ll want your book registered with the Library of Congress as this increases the likelihood that it will get into libraries. It also provides some added copyright protection.

You will use the Preassigned Control Number (PCN) process, which takes 10-15 business days. Start this far enough before you plan to complete the publication process, to ensure you have your Library of Congress Control Number (LCCN) before you go to print. If you have trouble navigating the Library of Congress’ website for questions (and you probably will, it’s not as clear as it could be), you may want to explore the PCN Manual.

To complete the process of registering, you will need to send a hard copy of the printed book to the Library of Congress.

Format the Story

Formatting your work can fit in with style, especially after you’ve gone through the indie process and have a handle on what you want and need. Many writers will create their draft in the most complicated format they are planning on producing, just so this piece is well underway (and less frustrating later). Once the book is ready for publication, they’ll make copies to reformat for other products.

At this point you need to know how you plan to publish and what company you’ll be using, as different publishers have different formatting requirements. Be sure you read the requirements before you put in a bunch of work changing your novel into a font you won’t be able to use.

Features you need to make formatting decisions on include:

Page size (determined by the product you are creating)

Margins (leave room for the gutter – the inside margin where the binding is)

Chapter heading font, size, and position

Indent (fiction usually indents first line of a paragraph)

Line spacing (look at similarly sized books to choose number of lines per page)

Section breaks (asterism or section sign are both good choices)

A Note on Paragraph Styles

If you’re not already using paragraph styles in your word processor, you need to start now. Styles designate font, size, and text attributes, as well as features like line spacing and indents. When used properly, styles ensure consistency and a professional looking end product. They also make it much easier to reformat the entire document if you need different features for a different product, or if you suddenly need a different font for your text body.

If you are creating an e-book, you must designate title and heading 1 styles at the very least, as these are used for navigation. Failure to designate these will often result in your book not meeting requirements for distribution.

Accessibility

Do not use extra returns and the space-bar to place text where you want it on the page. This makes your digital end product inaccessible to people with adaptive reading equipment. Screen readers will read every one of those spare characters, and no one wants to hear “asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk…” as they wait for the next section. Instead, use your styles to put chapter headings where you want them, and use hard returns (ctrl+enter) to separate chapters.

Front Matter

This is the content that comes between the front cover and the first page of the story regardless of whether it is a print or e-book. The professional standard includes:

Table of contents (this will be automatically generated for e-books)

Title page (should be on the right page for print editions)

Optional content includes:

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Book Cover

This is your primary advertiser for your book, whether it’s print, e-book, audio book, or a serial. You will use this image everywhere to pitch your work. We’ve all been told to not judge a book by its cover, and we all do it anyway, so expect that this is something that must be done right.

Consider your cover a visual extension of the story. It needs to be appealing while giving your reader clues on what to expect. If your zombie apocalypse story has a cover that feels like a Christian devotional, it won’t appeal to some of your readers and you’ll have gone against the expectations of others. You absolutely do not want your book to look like you spewed clip art at the page, a common new indie writer mistake. A generic cover does you no good either.

It’s okay if you don’t have the skills to create a stunning cover for your book; hiring someone to do this for you may be your best bet. It’s worth paying to get a cover that helps readers decide to pick your story. There are a lot of great artists out there, so look around and find someone whose style is a good fit and who you can afford. That said, don’t whine about prices. Artists deserve to be paid what they’re worth.

Publish

The steps at this stage will vary depending on the company or program you decide to go through.

For most print on demand printers, expect to have to buy a proof before the book becomes available to the public.

Market

This stage will vary depending on your comfort level and opportunities. In general, you should be marketing yourself as a writer at any opportunity. This means participating at conventions, doing readings, and posting announcements on your social media and website. Be careful to avoid giving your friends a constant hard sell on Facebook, though. No one enjoys that. Your social media needs to be somewhat active and should include content not specifically related to a recent book release. Posting teaser chapters can be a great try-before-you-buy option.

While this looks like a lot of steps to take, they are spread out over the course of your process of bringing your story to publication, and many are not that onerous. Most print on demand companies have paid services to help with some of these steps, if they seem too great for you to overcome on your own.

⁂

For the first article in this series, check out Part I. Or if you just missed the previous article, check out Part III. To see the next one, check out Part V.

For more articles on writing, check out my Reflections From the Sol section.

#reflections from the sol #indie author #indie world #Process #Indie Writer Series

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tydybarnum-blog · 5 years

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Sims 3 My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic Legacy Challenge

Objective: Play through numerous generations completing your sim’s assigned aspirations and tasks. This gives the gameplay more depth and ultimately making the game more fun. For this challenge, the ponies from the tv show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic are recreated as sims based on their specific traits, styles, and aspirations. Each sim counts as one generation. Each generation will have rules to follow. THIS IS NOT ENTIRELY BASED ON THE FAMILY TREE OF THE TV SHOW. For example, in this challenge, Princess Luna is Princess Celestia’s daughter.

Rules: These rules are designed to create a boundary for the gameplay, so it doesn’t get messy and unorganized.

1. Money cheats may be used but not excessively. It is recommended to ONLY use money cheats for your first home.

2. No mods.

3. Each generation must represent the same colors and style to their hair and clothing. Modifying the color of their skin to match the pony’s is not necessary.

4. Every generation must complete that of what their aspiration and lifestyle state. You may start the next generation while still working on the one prior.

5. Follow the requirements of each generation to complete this challenge in success!

Note: The first generation is a young adult.

Generation One: Princess Celestia

Princess Celestia is the ruler of Equestria. She is responsible for starting everyday by raising the sun. She is extremely beautiful, kind and wise.

Traits: Ambitious, Family-Orientated, Good, Nurturing, Genius

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Career: Educator

Rules:

-Skills mastered for Renaissance Sim aspiration must be: Logic, Charisma and Cooking

-Make good friends with a horse

-Marry a genius sim as an adult and have a child or children without him moving in

-Purchase ‘young again potion’ as an elder and use on self

Generation Two: Princess Luna

Princess Luna is responsible for raising the moon in the night. She believes that because of her mother’s immense success and perfect lifestyle, she’s actually selfish and wanting the best for her instead of others. Therefore, Luna resents her mother and her affections while growing up. This is her alternate personality, Nightmare Moon. She is overall self-assured, loyal, and beautiful, like her mother. Although she struggles with her relationship with her mother, there is nothing she’d rather do than help the lives of others.

Traits: Brave, Brooding, Artistic, Genius, Green Thumb

Aspiration: Firefighter Super Hero

Career: Firefighter

Rules:

-Resent mother as a teen, channeling alternate personality, Nightmare Moon, and given different looks (darker clothing and hair color)

-Master gardening skill

-Master painting skill

-Become best friends with mother as a young adult

-Marry happily as an adult

Generation Three: Princess Cadance

Princess Cadance is a glimmering light in the darkness. Her spirits are always high, and she doesn’t let anything get to her. She absolutely adores children and wants as many of them as possible! She’s also artistic, nurturing, playful and once again, beautiful alike her mother.

Traits: Artistic, Avant Garde, Bookworm, Nurturing, Family-Orientated

Aspiration: Surrounded by Family

Career: Daycare (not while attending University)

Rules:

-Attend University as a young adult and major in Fine Arts

-Meet soulmate while attending University

-Master cooking skill

-Win the award for the World’s Best Mom! (spend as much time as possible with your children each having a good relationship with them)

Generation Four: Twilight Sparkle

Twilight Sparkle is the most studious sim in town. She pretty much lives at the library as she’s constantly reading and learning about spells. She strives to make a good impression on her mother and her multiple siblings, including her little brother, Spike. Twilight believes that the most magical thing she has learned is friendship and that’s the thing she loves the most. Twilight is friendly, attentive, and focused.

Traits: Bookworm, Friendly, Genius, Handy, Good

Aspiration: Alchemy Artisan

Career: Bookstore-clerk, Alchemist

Rules:

-Become best friends with Spike (little brother)

-Master handiness skill

-Master logic skill

-Marry for the first time as an elder

Generation Five: Rarity

Rarity is truly rare of her kind and has a keen sense of fashion. She’s generous to every sim she befriends by making sure they’re wearing the proper clothing, so they don’t go out in public looking like a catastrophe! Oh, and she makes all her clothes.

Traits: Artistic, Avant Garde, Charismatic, Dramatic, Hopeless Romantic

Aspiration: Fashion Phenomenon

Career: Fashion

Rules:

-Move to Starlight Shores and marry a famous sim

-Master charisma skill

-Befriend a unicorn

-Reach max jock influence

Generation Six: Applejack

Applejack is earthy and loves her family! Her strong suits are honesty and loyalty. She doesn’t let anyone, or anything keep her distracted from working.

Traits: Brave, Equestrian, Family-Orientated, Loves the Outdoors, Workaholic

Aspiration: The Jockey

Career: Horseman

Rules:

-Move to Appaloosa Plains

-Own 3 horses

-Grow at least 12 apple trees

-Attend every seasonal festival with family

Generation Seven: Pinkie Pie

Pinkie Pie loves to party! She can make a party happen for any and every occasion. Pinkie Pie loves to laugh making the best out of a poor situation and always making sure her friends are in good moods!

Traits: Charismatic, Childish, Excitable, Party Animal, Social Butterfly

Aspiration: Super Popular

Career: Fortune Teller

Rules:

-Throw a party twice a week

-Reach max influence in all social groups

-Never marry

Generation Eight: Fluttershy

Fluttershy, you could say, is one with the animals. Because of her gentle and kind-nature, she can befriend any animal she encounters. She is, however, extremely shy and avoids sims as much as possible.

Traits: Animal Lover, Eco-Friendly, Neat, Nurturing, Socially Awkward

Aspiration: The Ark Builder

Career: Writer

Rules:

-Give pets daily affection

-Only sim friend is fiancé other than family

-Only write children books about animals

-Master writing skill

Generation Nine: Rainbow Dash

Rainbow Dash always embarks on a new adventure. She’s a daredevil for sure and loves the adrenaline. She’s 20% cooler than the average sim and loyal to her closest friends.

Traits: Athletic, Daredevil, Good Sense of Humor, Heavy Sleeper, Rebellious

Aspiration: Become a Superstar Athlete

Career: Athletic

Rules:

-Reach max rebel influence

-Live in 3 different towns throughout lifetime

-Get married 3 times

#sims sims3 sims4 simschallenge mlp

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measuringlife · 5 years

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Measuring Me: An Ode to My Love of Music

This Bob Marley quote has always resonated with me: “One good thing about music. When it hits you, you feel no pain.”

I must confess I am not musical. I can’t carry a tune, play an instrument, or read music of any sort. I think because I am not personally musical, I deeply appreciate music. I feel music with every fiber of my being. Music is my drug of choice.

It calms me down.

It picks me up.

It comforts me.

It’s something I can lose myself in.

I really started my love affair with music during my tween years, but those were all the years of the end of my parent’s marriage and my Dad moving out. Music was a good escape. I then turned to music to help ease the heartbreak of unrequited love in college. Music to help calm the stress of grad school. Music is where I turned for comfort after my Dad died. Music kept me going when I first running and continued to motivate me through thousands of miles over the years. Music helps me focus on work in the office or make a tedious task more enjoyable. Music drives the choreography of BODYPUMP and other Les Mills workouts.

I both hate and love how accessible music is in this day and age. I’m actually listening to the best of Broadway from Amazon Music as I type this thanks to yelling for Alexa to play “showtunes” for me. I remember creating my Pandora account in August 2005 and thinking WOW! Actually at one point in my life just after grad school circa 2008 the most expensive thing I owned (aside from my car) was my iTunes library. I would argue in my early high school years the most expensive thing I owned was my cd collection. For the record I still have all my CDs - I’ve just removed almost all the jewel cases and keep them in books or on a spindle. I also have ALL my early iTunes music saved to 2 different iPods.

Thinking back I remember certain songs from my childhood like “Kokomo” by the Beach Boys or “I would do anything for love” by Meatloaf or “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen or various broadway showtunes ranging from Jesus Christ Superstar to Phantom on the Opera to Grease and Rocky Horror. My Dad and my Aunt who were my stronger early musical influences had a penchant for Andrew Loyd Webber and campy shows! I also remember one of the first CDs our family purchased as a “hits of the 50s-60s” two-disc collection - it has a sad song I loved called “Tell Laura I love her” by Ray Peterson that I particularly loved. Spoiler alert the more heartbreaking the song the more I tend to like it.

CDs gained widespread popularity when I was in junior high school which was perfect for an angsty teen. Some early teen year CDs of the late 90s I loved were Eve6, Bush, Hootie and the Blowfish, Limp Bizkit, Third Eye Blind, and Matchbox 20. I really REALLY loved “Outside” by Staind and Fred Durst, I remember listening to that track from the 1999 Family Values Tour CD on REPEAT. However I also was a total teeny bopper with an eternal flame for Hanson, but also loved all things boys bands like Nsync, BSB, 98 degrees, 5ive, O-Town, and the “fake” boy band 2gether.

I went to my first concert in 2nd grade to see teen pop sensation Debbie Gibson! I didn’t go to another concert until 9th grade when I saw Backstreet Boys. From there I went to concerts as much as my mom would let me. Once I got my license my concert going really picked up. Jones Beach Outdoor Amphitheater was THE venue as a teenager, so many amazing summer concert memories there.

My love of music took another turn in college. Right away I joined the college radio station and all of a sudden had access to all these new artists on the rise. I remember my first semester of college in Fall 2001 getting a cd and small-time merch from this up and coming singer-songwriter who had Connecticut roots. You may have heard of him, his name is John Mayer. I honestly have COUNTLESS bands that I discovered through my college radio days (shout out WQAQ - the soundtrack of Quinnipiac). There is so much music I associate with college that it’s hard to recall when I was first introduced to them - like Dashboard Confessional, Jimmy Eat World, Something Corporate, Fall Out Boy, Yellowcard, Jack Johnson, and Ben Harper to name a few. I also recall listening to quite a bit of “screamo” back then like The Used and Hawthorne Heights. The band I will forever associate with QAQ is the Spill Canvas and they are still of my favorite bands. In fact, I’m seeing them in concert later this month!

I also went to a ton of concerts in college, one band I haven’t mentioned is Incubus. They are also one of my all-time favorites. I saw Incubus a number of times in college, most memorable were two tour stops in 2002. One at the Garden in NYC and one at the Hartford Civic Center. They started the shows playing full blast electric then they changed the vibe of the stage and did a couple of acoustic songs before switching back to full electric. The crazy thing is that so many of their songs work just all acoustic as they do full blast.

Going to concerts was also a great way to discover music through opening acts. I’ve always been a person to get to a show to see the opening act. The all-time best chain of introduction to music was when I went to my first John Mayer show in November 2002. It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving and we all arrived back to college that afternoon with the concert that night. The drive up we listened to John Mayer the whole ride. The venue, the Oakdale Theater in Wallingford CT was small (I just looked it up the capacity was 4,800) and so intimate. Everyone there were passionate John Mayer fans, the opening act had their work cut out for them. Enter: Maroon 5 as the opening act. They melted my face off. They had the most unbelievable energy and hot damn could they shred on guitar. John Mayer even came out before his set to shred with them on one song. My best memory of that set was when Adam Levine covered Nine In Nails “Closer.” Holy hell, still one of the best performances I’ve seen. Ever. Just to be clear the John Mayer show was also amazing, the best one of his I’ve ever gone too because of how small it was I think. However, I walk away from a stellar John Mayer show still buzzing from Maroon 5. I could write a whole blog post of my Maroon 5 fandom in their early days (like how I was part of their “street team” and was invited by their management to go to their first Total Request Live performance because they wanted fans who could sing along to every word in the audience). Anyway back to the chain of amazing artist introduction. October 2003 I was going to NYC for the night to see Maroon 5 and low and behold their opening act was a newcomer named Gavin DeGraw who stole the show, his cover of Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get in On” is yet another top concert memory. I should also note 30 Seconds to Mars opened for Incubus when I saw them in Hartford in 2002.

Another note from the early 2000s history books, during my college years Kazaa and Limewire were at their height. Plus being on a college ethernet that was not yet “wireless” we were able to log into a campus-wide music portal some smart computer programming major kid set up where you essentially made you music public for others to copy and you were able to search and copy other people’s music. SO MUCH MUSIC. I was particularly obsessed with ripped live versions of songs.

Looking back at the top 10 performances/shows I’ve seen - not including festivals - because that could be its own category. If there is a particularly noteworthy song I’ll note it.

Incubus - 11am acoustic (2002 - Hartford Civic Center)

John Mayer (2002 - Oakdale Theatre)

Maroon 5 - Closer (2002 - Oakdale Theatre)

Third Eye Blind - (2003 - SPB Concert at Quinnipiac - Josh Kelley opened and was awesome)

Gavin DeGraw - Let’s Get it On (2003/2004 - NYC and Hartford - both were amazing)

Spill Canvas - All Hail The Heartbreaker (2004 - The Attic, Hamden CT)

Maroon 5 (2004/2005 at two tiny Long Island venues)

David Cook - Permanent (Night for Hope 2012 - State Theatre, Falls Church VA)

Jimmy Eat World - A Praise Chorus (2017 - Bristow VA)

Hanson - (2017 - The Fillmore - Silver Spring - also 2018 - Wolf Trap they played Yearbook for the first time ever on tour during their String Theory shows)

Top 10 influential albums by a single artist/band listed chronologically - not including any soundtracks, showtunes, or festival albums which each could be its own categories. You may notice there are some artists where I can’t choose one either due to both being amazing or discovering them around the same time and listening to them digitally in a shuffled mix.

Hanson - Middle of Nowhere (1997)

Third Eye Blind - Third Eye Blind (1997 self-titled debut)

Eve 6 - Eve 6 (1998 self-titled debut)

Incubus - Make Yourself (1999)/Morning View (2001)

John Mayer - Room for Squares (2001)/Any Given Thursday (2003)

Dashboard Confessional - The Swiss Army Romance (2000)/The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most (2001)

Maroon 5 - Songs About Jane (2002)

Gavin DeGraw - Chariot (2003) / Chariot: Stripped (2004)

Spill Canvas - Sunsets and Car Crashes (2004)/One Fell Swoop (2005)

David Cook - Analog Heart (2006)

Honorable mention all of David Cook’s albums from his old band Axium

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loxxxlay · 6 years

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Whumptober ~ October 7th ~ Kidnapped

Summary: After a series of ill decisions, Thor gets himself into a dangerous and humiliating situation. One from which there seems to be no escape. [Part 3/4]

Tags/Warnings: (for this part) Thor&Loki, Thor/Amora, Amora is a Bad Person in this, nonconsensual love spell, mind control, referenced noncon, brotherly feels, Loki is the only decent person here lmao, pre Thor

Author’s Note: THIS CHAPTER ENDS ON A GOOD NOTE Also, no noncon happens in detail. Only referenced/mentioned. Enjoyyyyy

(For mobile users, there is a read more cut.)

Parts: [1] [2] 3 [4]

[Read on Ao3]

In the morning, sunlight streams through the bedroom painting their bare bodies in gold. Amora opened the window before they went to sleep, and it’s late enough into summer that Thor appreciates the morning breeze that stirs him awake. Birds sing to other birds, and the chirping of crickets hasn’t quite abated—peaceful and loving sounds, but they are of little interest to him. Rather, Thor spends the allotted time staring at Amora.

She washed her face of any powder or paint before bed, but even bare of embellishment, she is beautiful. Her natural eyebrows are a thin blonde, her eyelashes long but light. Freckles rest like trickled dust over her nose and cheeks, and Thor thinks that to count them would be the same as counting the stars.

He loves her.

He loves her so much he can barely stand it.

And yet, she sleeps, leaving Thor without purpose, without task. He can only lie there and stare at her until she gives a command, which could be minutes or hours or fortnights from now. The helplessness is powerful enough to drive a man mad, but he resists the tug of insanity—because she is his focal point. She is the light at the end of his tunnel. It will be over just as soon as she wakes up, as soon as she wakes up.

A knock on the door breaks the static.

Amora’s eyes blink open, and her eyelashes flash rainbows as they flutter in sunlight. She looks at him, and Thor feels trapped in her gaze—this moment, this contact, is all he needs, all he wants, all that exists. He loves her. He loves her. He loves her.

“Who do you think that is?” she asks with a yawn.

Relief floods him. Answering her question becomes his sole purpose, driving the madness away. Desperate to please her, Thor thinks through all possible answers—not a servant, a servant wouldn’t knock; a guard perhaps, sent with his father’s or mother’s summons, but it would be unlikely so early in the morning; his friends don’t visit—his head silences itself when the person knocks again. This time, Thor needs to know who it is, so he listens carefully.

The familiarity strikes him immediately. “It’s Loki,” he says.

Amora groans with displeasure, and Thor’s heart is crushed. Right then, he hates his brother for giving this woman, this perfect, beautiful woman, anything less than pure joy.

“Alright, go answer it. Don’t let him know I’m here, and tell him to go away.”

Thor is up on his feet in an instant. He’s ready to cross into his guest area and answer the door in the nude, cock hanging between his legs, until Amora adds, “get dressed first.” Then Thor is thrustings on his pants and manhandling a shirt over his head. All the while, the knocking on the door repeats, more and more urgently.

Thor hurries over and swings the door open. It turns clockwise, he knows, so Amora will be hidden.

Sure enough, Loki stands on the other side, looking very much relieved to see him.

The second Thor’s eyes land upon him, he’s struck with something. An aura radiates from Loki’s presence that he has never noticed before. He only recognizes it now because Amora has one, too. But this is more powerful than Amora. It cloaks the air with a smothering cold, and standing, here, in Loki’s presence, Thor suddenly isn’t sure what to do.

He opens his mouth to tell Loki to go away , but the words won’t come. He tries again, but no. No. He doesn’t want to say it. He wants to tell Loki to come in.

(He wants to say Amora is here on his bed—)

No no no no.

“Are you alright?” Loki asks quietly.

Panicked, Thor lets the thoughts of Amora drift away. Instead, he focuses on his brother and notices Loki’s red-rimmed and tired eyes. But Thor can’t ask Loki why he’s been crying or even answer the question Loki asked. He wasn’t commanded to. He stands there silently as the conflict undoes his mind.

Loki’s head ducks and he shuffles his feet. “Never mind,” he says. A deep breath. “I came to apologize. It wasn’t my place to interfere with your business yesterday. Especially not when the last time we talked was . . .” Loki sighs raggedly, and his lips thin, as if he’s holding something in. It takes a long moment for him to continue. “You were right. I don’t have many friends, and I do miss you. I wish we could spend time together again. Like we used to.”

That’s when Thor remembers. Before Amora, before the dancing, he used his words to slice Loki’s heart into ribbons. More than anything, Thor wants to drop to his knees and say no, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it . He can’t. He’s locked in place. The icy aura surrounding Loki’s presence isn’t enough to let him speak.

Loki looks up at him, and his eyes are naked with vulnerability. “So?” he asks quietly. “What do you think?”

Thor thinks he’s sorry. He thinks he is the cruelest brother, the cruelest of friends, in the entire nine realms. He thinks he deserves everything that is happening to him.

Loki’s eyebrows raise, urging Thor to speak. “Well? Will you not answer?”

Thor opens his mouth because he can’t leave his brother with this silence. He can’t. But the help me, please help me becomes an uncaring monotonous, “go away.”

Hurt flashes across Loki’s face. His fists clench, his eyes shine, and his lips tremble with a hysterical rage. “You know,” Loki says, voice wavering, “if you died tomorrow, I wouldn’t care. I’d be glad even.”

I'm sorry , Thor wants to say, but he isn't allowed.

“Rot in Hel, Thor,” Loki hisses before storming away.

Thor is left alone in his silence.

Once Loki is long out of sight, Amora joins his side. One arm loops around his waist, raising chills of both lust and fear, and her other arm nudges the door out of his grip until it’s closed. Her presence ensnares his attention, but it’s not reigning him in, not quite yet. There’s nothing to reign in. He’s too numb.

“Hey,” Amora says, “look at me.”

Her finger traces the line of Thor’s jaw and draws his chin in her direction.

Meeting her eyes, Thor loses himself in them. He loves her. Loki doesn’t matter. He loves her. Loki . . .

“What happened?” she asks. “Why did it take you so long?”

“He—he felt different than you,” Thor says without thinking. “Standing next to him, I . . . It was different.” He frowns at himself. “I don’t—I don’t understand it.”

Amora’s eyes light with comprehension. “Oh, dear. That’s just the presence of his magic trying to make a fool of you.” She pauses and lets her finger on his chin brush over his lips. He sings with a needy heat. “If you ignore it, or better, stay away from him entirely, then it won't trouble you anymore. And I’ll be so happy. You do want to make me happy, don’t you?”

Thor nods. “Of course. I love you. With all my heart.”

“Good,” she says and plants a kiss to his cheek.

Thor’s heart sours at the touch, and everything becomes clear again.

Time passes in a blur. It’s a never-ending cycle of a lust carved into his veins. The pursuit of her commands, the absolute craving to please her with his utter obedience. Then, the reward, the climax of her attention in a kiss, a smile, or even a nod. And last, the emptiness of waiting, waiting, waiting for the cycle to rinse itself of dust and repeat.

She visits him every night, but he can only make love with her once a fortnight. Those are the nights he longs for the most. She looks so beautiful with her face screwed tight in pained pleasure. Arms tangled in sheets, and limbs soaked in each other’s sweat. She’s most gentle afterward. Most happy.

Thor loves seeing her happy.

She only really asks that he live his life as normal and that he meet his father’s expectations. He does both with an eagerness unmatched by anything he’s felt before. His parents compliment him on his choice of woman—a good influence, they call her, whenever she dines with them (Loki, always notably absent). He excels in his training and his studies, and his father includes him in more of his council meetings, both public and private.

The more he thrives, the happier Amora seems with him, and Thor would do anything to give her happiness.

The only trouble is when he’s spent too long away from her.

After a day alone, he starts to have . . . thoughts. They aren’t his thoughts, he is sure, but they feel inherent and real and alarming at the time of them. They drive him to do ridiculous things. Once he dropped a glass and let it shatter on the floor just to get a passing servant to stop and sweep the pieces with barely veiled resentment. Another time, he drew an ink cross across all of his assignments (and the pages of library books). To his tutor’s great chagrin, he was unable to explain why.

Worst of all, on his way back to his room at night, he’ll often pause at Loki’s door until the drowning of his heart becomes too much to bear. (Luckily Loki never catches him.)

He mentions it to Amora, and she tells him it isn’t fault. Everyone has thoughts like that, she says. Everyone does things like that every once in a while.

But Thor can tell it upsets her, so he doesn’t mention it again.

Weeks into his newfound happiness, Thor is on the training grounds, and he has spent too long away from her.

She failed to visit him the night before (leaving a message that something had come up), and now the bad thoughts are growing restless and demanding and starting to persuade him of their truth. He hacks away at the straw man in front of him, practicing a rhythm of strikes, but the thoughts are asking him to turn around and attack his instructor.

No, Thor thinks and takes his fear out on the straw.

( You don’t love her , the bad thoughts say.)

Thor strikes harder.

( She raped you. You told her no, and she raped you , they say, louder.)

Thor hurls the sword into the ground and smashes his ears with his hand, wishing he could drown out the noise.

( You need to find a way to get away from her. )

“No,” Thor chokes to himself.

Someone touches his shoulder. It’s Fandral. At the attention, the bad thoughts lessen, and Thor cautiously lowers his hands from his ears.

“You alright, friend?” Fandral asks.

“Yes,” Thor says to appease Amora’s command (even as the voice in his head whispers, say no, say no, say no). “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Fandral frowns. “You dropped your sword.”

Thor looks at the blade at his feet and is struck with an urge to stick it in Fandral’s chest. He shudders. Rips his gaze away. “I’m fine,” Thor says. “Just whacked my head with the flat edge.”

Fandral’s frown deepens, but he must be somewhat satisfied with the response, for he nods. “Alright then. Take it easy there.”

Thor picks up the sword and leaves Fandral behind in fear that he’ll do something bad. He approaches one of the unused wooden dummies, abandoned for its crooked, mangled stand. It’s one hard strike away from breaking.

Amora’s command asks that he practice his strikes as instructed while the bad thoughts scream for attention.

Thor does both at the same time. With a careful precise set of strikes, Thor carves the word help into the wooden dummy. The marks are barely legible—easy to see as mere mindless scratches on a wooden canvas—but if someone is looking hard enough, they’ll see it.

( Oh please let them see it. )

Thor whirls to return to an empty straw target when he catches Loki climbing down the stairs to the training ground. Their eyes meet.

Thor is not supposed to look at him. Or talk to him. Or be near to him.

Of all of Amora’s commands, that is the one she pressed upon him most. The command drowns the bad thoughts away, and Thor is relieved at the loss of tension. Eager to keep his mind silent, Thor obeys the command.

With Loki watching, he all but runs from the training grounds, desperate to return to his room and await Amora’s visit tonight. It’s too early a departure, but not so early to cause him trouble, he hopes.

The next day, Thor is armed with new commands. He is still to avoid Loki’s presence, but now acting as normal as possible takes precedence. If Loki is near but otherwise ignoring him, then Thor may remain where he is and continue his other tasks. If Loki speaks to him, Thor may answer, but only for as long as it takes him to courteously slip away.

By the time evening draws close and the bad thoughts begin to resurface, Thor can easily appease their urgency by practicing on the dummy closest to the broken one—the one still inscribed with the word help .

It’s going well, much better than yesterday—at least, until he is ambushed by the cold, smothering aura of his brother.

Thor stops what he’s doing and turns to find Loki staring at him. Thor doesn’t move.

“Thor?” Loki asks quietly.

“Yes?” Thor says, monotone.

Loki swallows. “Did you train with that one yesterday?” He gestures at the broken wooden dummy.

The bad thoughts screech with glee. Thor wants to cover his ears in terror. “Yes,” he says, because Amora never told him to lie.

Loki is frowning now. His eyes dart between Thor and the message, and half of Thor prays for him to give it up and the other half prays that Loki pursue the question. Please , he thinks, not knowing which part of him is begging. Please please please please please—

“Are you in trouble?” Loki asks.

And maybe Thor wants to, but he can’t answer that.

At the silence, Loki’s frown deepens. “Do you need help?”

Thor clenches his jaw shut.

“Blink if it’s yes,” Loki says.

Thor’s eyes go wide because he can’t say yes, he can’t, he’s not allowed. He stands there straining to keep them open until he has no choice but to break the normalcy and shield his eyes from view with his hand. He blinks, long and hard, letting his eyes settle with moisture again.

When he lowers his hand, Loki doesn’t look worried nor confused anymore. He’s fuming. “Where are you supposed to meet her?”

“What?” Thor says, confused.

“Amora,” Loki says. “Where are you to see her next?”

The bad thoughts are starting to win. Thor thinks he’s glad that Loki’s asking. He’s glad he’s allowed to answer this question in truth. “My chambers.”

Loki nods. “And when will she be there?”

“She should be there now.”

Without speaking, Loki takes Thor’s hand and drags him across the yard toward the stairs. Thor starts to tear away, but—but Loki’s touch is grounding. It’s the same way that Amora is his focal point, the light at the end of his tunnel, but this time, it's Loki, not her. Thor finds himself going numb in his brother's presence, and it scares him. Amora will be so angry when the anchor of Loki’s contact is gone—and Thor will want to die for displeasing her.

“It’s alright,” Loki says, and Thor realizes that he’s hyperventilating. “It’s alright, I’m just taking you to her. She’ll be fine with that, won’t she? She’ll want you to meet her?”

Yes, Thor thinks. Yes. She wants him to meet her in his room, after all. She wants him to go there. And she can be the one to tell Loki to go away.

They reach his room, and Loki lets Thor open the door and go in.

Amora is inside, toying with his belongings (his favorite quill—the bad thoughts say, encouraged by Loki’s presence—and she’s sitting in his desk).

She looks up as Thor enters. “Aren’t you a little early, love?”

“A little,” he answers.

Rising, Amora goes to embrace him ( she’s turning her back to the door , he thinks), and that’s when Loki shoots into the room and rips her away from Thor. His arm loops around her neck, and a blade in his hand presses against her throat—sharp enough for a drop of blood to spill down her collarbone.

Enraged, Thor starts forward.

“I’ll kill her,” Loki says. “If you take one step forward, I’ll do it. She’ll be dead.”

Thor stops. His lungs throb, his hands clench, and his eyes glare at Loki’s hand. If Loki loses his guard for one instant, Thor will pummel him into the ground.

“He wouldn’t kill me,” Amora says to Thor.

Thor takes half a step forward.

Loki’s knuckles whiten, and a second drop of blood spills from her neck. “I would.”

Thor pauses.

“There’s no evidence,” Amora snaps. “Love spells have been banished for centuries. Do you know how long it took me to find any whiff of this one?” She shakes her head in minute, barely noticeable jerks. “And once I learned the spell, I burned any trace of the book. It’s gone. You can’t prove it. Even if you’re his son, the All-Father will have no choice but to imprison you for murder.”

“You think I care?” Loki growls. “You think I’d sacrifice my own brother just to avoid imprisonment?” His hand not holding the knife tangles into Amora’s hair and yanks her head backward so that he can whisper in her ear. “I would rather spend a thousand centuries burning in the depths of Hel before allowing you to touch him again.”

Amora’s face is white as bone, and Thor’s heart pounds. He doesn’t know what to do. “Stop,” Thor says to Loki. “Let go. You’re hurting her”

“Shut up,” Loki says.

Thor goes quiet.

“Are you pregnant?” Loki asks Amora.

Amora scowls. “Not yet.”

“Swear it. On Yggdrasil. On your life.”

She doesn’t speak, but when Loki presses the knife harder to her throat and and a stream of blood stains her pale skin, she opens her mouth. “I swear it.”

“The whole thing,” Loki says. “Say it back to me.”

Amora rolls her eyes. “I swear it on Yggdrasil and my life.”

“Good. Now release the spell.” With the blade, Loki gestures to Thor. “Do it now.”

Amora’s eyes are lit with wrath, but her hands twist at her side and illuminate with a brilliant green.

Thor shudders. The layers of his thoughts crack open like masks, over and over, until he can hear the truth within. Bad thoughts, he thinks by habit, and then blinks, horrified at himself. Reality evaporates. The beautiful, perfect, loving woman in front of him becomes something repulsive and terrifying—a sight of nightmares. Likewise, his brother becomes something to cherish, something to love, and Thor is disgusted with himself. A mere moment ago, he wanted to choke Loki to death.

He drops to his knees and stares at his hands. They’re shaking. His vision is going white.

There’s the sound of a scuffle—someone stumbling to across the floor.

“Get out,” Loki hisses.

A moment later, the door slams shut.

“What,” Thor gasps at the floor. “What is happening.”

“It’s okay, Thor.” Loki is kneeling beside him, and his arm settles over Thor’s shoulders. “You’re alright now. You’re alright.”

Thor shakes his head. His eyes are wide as he remembers everything. The night Amora raped him, and the nights they made love. They’ve fucked each other seven times now. Seven. Times.

Thor chokes on a sob.

“Shhh,” Loki says, “shhh, it’s okay.”

His brother pulls Thor into his arms, and Thor lets his face smash against Loki’s chest. He wails and wails and wails, and Loki holds him through all of it. Whispered words fall like rain over Thor’s head, cleansing him of fear—she won’t touch you anymore. I’ll make sure of it, I promise. I promise. You’re safe now. You’re safe. You’re alright. I have you .

The last one is murmured when Thor’s sobs are dying into whimpered breaths.

“I’m sorry, Thor.” Loki’s voice is clogged with tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

Why are you sorry? Thor wants to ask. No one in all of Asgard noticed that anything was wrong. No one except you. You saved me. You freed me.

But he’s too drained to say it. Too numb. Too broken.

Instead, he circles his arms around his brother’s waist and clings with all his might to thank him.

Even then, it’s not enough.

#thor #thor fic #thor centric #thorloki #brodinsons #thor whump #marvel #whumptober #lox writes #tw noncon #noncon recovery #loki

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