#Bringing It All Back Home (1965)

[bobdylan-n-jonimitchell]

Bob Dylan “Love Minus Zero / No Limit” Newport Folk Festival, July 24, 1965.

#Bob Dylan #Love Minus Zero / No Limit #Newport Folk Festival #The Newport Folk Festival #Freebody Park #Newport #Rhode Island #RI #1965 #1960s #Video #Bringing It All Back Home (1965)

[diceriadelluntore]

Storia Di Musica #304 - Bob Dylan, Bringing It Al Back Home, 1965

Ogni anno ho raccontato un disco di Bob Dylan. Prescindere da Dylan è impossibile per il rock, e arriva in luoghi, stili e musicisti che a prima vista sembrano lontani anni luci da lui. Eppure, il suo è uno degli ingranaggi cruciali che mette in moto la macchina della musica popolare occidentale (e non solo) che è arrivata fino ad oggi. Il disco di oggi è l'occasione per un viaggio alquanto insolito, che svelerò alla fine, per chiudere il 2023 musicale. Il disco di oggi nasce da alcune idee che erano state scartate per quello precedente, Another Side Of Bob Dylan del 1964. Sebbene ancora legato al folk, quel disco scopre un lato introspettivo che il Dylan di quei tempi ancora doveva scandagliare: inizia quindi a mettere di lato (sebbene non lo abbandonerà mai del tutto) il lato politico e sociale (dello stesso anno è The Times They Are A-Changin') per quello privato. Inoltre c'è la necessità musicale di legare insieme il folk dei primordi con le nuove pulsioni del rock'n'roll, che secondo Dylan gli permetterebbero maggiore libertà creativa. Decide quindi di andare a vivere in una piccola villetta di campagna a Woodstock, proprio a pochi km dalla spianata che pochi anni più tardi fu teatro di una immensa folla rock, casa di proprietà del suo manager Albert Grossman. Dylan adora quel posto, e ci passa tutta l'estate. Dopo pochi giorni, è raggiunto da Joan Baez, che racconta la routine del menestrello di Duluth: passava la giornata alla macchina da scrivere, accompagnato incessantemente da sigarette e bottiglie di vino, e spesso nel cuore della notte avendo avuto una intuizione si metteva a scrivere senza soluzioni di continuità. Dylan è cauto, e affina tutti i particolari: alla prima sessione di registrazione canta da solo acustico. Il giorno dopo, 14 Gennaio 1965 che nella storia del rock è un giorno importante, si presenta con una band elettrica: i chitarristi Al Gorgoni, Kenneth Rankin, e il grande Bruce Langhorne, il pianista Paul Griffin, i bassisti Joseph Macho Jr. e William E. Lee, e il batterista Bobby Gregg. Registrano per ore, e le canzoni volano veloci e in poche ore, quando è notte fonda, è pronto metà disco. La sera successiva, il 15 Gennaio, Dylan dopo cena si presenta con una nuova band, tra cui John P. Hammond, che diventerà suo fido braccio destro negli anni a seguire, e John Sebastian, che diventerà famoso con i Lovin' Spoonful. Di questa sessione però non fu salvato nulla, così il 16 torna in studio con tutti i musicisti e finisce di registrare il disco. Che secondo il racconto dei presenti fu tutto di first takes, cioè canzoni registrate e considerate buone dopo solo una registrazione. Dylan, timoroso che il passaggio totale alla musica elettrica fosse un passo troppo lungo, decide di dividere il disco a metà con canzoni vecchia maniera musicalmente, ma che nei testi e nelle idee lo propongono del tutto nuovo: un surrealismo fantastico che lega Rimbaud alla beat generation, e che inizia a popolare lo scenario della musica giovanile di luoghi e personaggi che diventeranno archetipi.

Il 22 Marzo 1965 viene pubblicato Bringing It All Back Home dalla Columbia. Verrà distribuito in alcuni paesi con il titolo di Subterrean Homesick Blues, nome del primo singolo, ma ciò che importa è che è uno dei più grandi dischi di Dylan, ergo, è uno dei più grandi dischi della storia del rock. Perchè riesce nell'intento che si era prefissato, cioè trovare un legame credibile tra la tradizione folk, il blues e il nascente rock, creando paesaggi lirici che sconvolgono, consegnando alla storia canzoni mito su cui tutti hanno preso spunto. La sequenza di canzoni è ormai a quasi 60 anni dall'uscita un greatest hits: Subterrean Homesick Blues è il biglietto d'ingresso nel mondo elettrico, e passa anche alla storia per l'innovativo videoclip, famosissimo e stracitato, di Dylan con i cartelli di parole chiavi del testo, con Allen Ginsberg che passeggia sullo sfondo di una vecchia fabbrica in rovina. Il testo, che utilizza anche espressioni da strada, è una infinita carrellata di riferimenti, più o meno chiari, alla società, alla politica, al giornalismo, e inizia a creare delle espressioni che diventeranno futuri slogan tra studenti, manifestanti per i diritti civile e così via (il più famoso You don't need a weather man\To know which way the wind blows). She Belongs To Me è l'ennesima novità stilistica: la prima figura di "donna ammaliatrice" (definizione di uno dei massimi studiosi di Dylan, Robert Shelton) con cui esiste un rapporto difficoltoso, sebbene non si sappia chi sia realmente l'spirazione, le più accreditate sono Suze Rotolo, la sua ex fidanzata che sta con lui sulla copertina di Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, sua sodale, Nico, la cantante svedese che conobbe alla Factory di Warhol e che canterà con i Velvet Underground o forse Sara Lownds, quella che diventerà sua moglie poche settimane dopo l'uscita del disco. Ogni canzone diventerà un'icona: Maggie's Farm, probabilmente un blues contro ogni forma di sfruttamento; On The Road Again è una dichiarazione profetica sul rapporto Dylan-successo, dove il primo spesso sceglie la lontananza e l'autoesilio, impaurito da quello che succede; It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding), tutta acustica, è uno dei massimi capolavori lirici dylaniani, con una carrellata drammatica per tensione e suggestione di immagini e sensazioni che esprimono un impellente desiderio di critica nei confronti dell'ipocrisia, del consumismo, dei sostenitori della guerra, e della cultura americana contemporanea, che rispetto al Dylan folk stavolta non si risolve in un ottimismo rivoluzionario, ma in un arrabbiato status quo da osservare. Ricordo altre due perle: It's All Over Now, Baby Blue, Dylan alla chitarra acustica e all'armonica a bocca e William E. Lee al basso come unica strumentazione, è un'altra ballata storica, dai mille significati (chi sia o cosa sia Baby Blue, per esempio) ma la canzone più famosa è senza dubbio Mr. Tambourine Man, altra canzone dai mille significati e simbolismi, che diventerà un soprannome dello stesso Dylan, e oggetto di centinaia di saggi, anche accademici, alla ricerca dei messaggi più reconditi di questo vagabondo con tamburo intento a suonare una canzone per lui mentre la notte sta per terminare avviandosi verso il mattino tintinnante.

Il disco è un successo: numero 6 nella classifica americana, addirittura numero 1 in Gran Bretagna, dove in quei mesi inizia una vera e proprio Dylanmania. E sarà uno dei più coverizzati di sempre: i Byrds lo riprenderanno quasi del tutto, e molte delle loro versioni di questi brani diventeranno famose, anche per l'uso nelle colonne sonore, da ricordare quelle in Easy Rider. Ma non tutti furono folgorati, e non posso non ricordare l'episodio che avvenne al Festival Di Newport: il 25 luglio 1965 Dylan si presentò sul palcoscenico non come cantante solista con chitarra e armonica come suo solito, ma con una chitarra elettrica accompagnato dalla Paul Butterfield Blues Band, formidabile band di blues elettrico. Qui succede questo: non si sa nemmeno bene se fosse colpa dell'acustica che non funzionava, ma il pubblico iniziò a fischiare Dylan, che dopo un paio di brani lasciò il palco; gli organizzatori lo convinsero a ritornare, solo con armonica e chitarra, per una sessione solo acustica che leggenda vuole finisca con It's All Over Now (Baby Blue), da allora canzone anche per sancire un passaggio epocale nella vita delle persone deluse dai cambiamenti.

Rimane da raccontare la copertina: Daniel Kramer con una lente distorsiva fotografa Dylan in un salotto con una donna, Sally Grossman, moglie dell'allora manager di Dylan, Albert Grossman. Sul tavolino tra i due dischi famosi Keep On Pushing de The Impressions, King Of The Delta Blues Singers di Robert Johnson, India's Master Musician di Ravi Shakar, Sings Berlin Theatre Songs by Kurt Weill di Lotte Leyna e l'amico Eric Von Schmidt con The Folk Blues Of Eric Von Schmidt; dietro Sally Grossman, seminascosto da un cuscino, c'è il lato superiore della copertina dell'album Another Side Of Bob Dylan, e sotto il suo braccio destro, una copia della rivista Time con Lyndon B. Johnson in copertina. Sulla mensola del camino, alla sinistra del dipinto, si vede l'album di Lord Buckley The Best Of Lord Buckley. Compare un gatto, che si chiamava Rolling Stone, Dylan indossa dei gemelli regalati da Joan Baez e in primo piano, in basso a sinistra della fotografia, campeggia un cartello con su scritto Fallout Shelter (rifugio antiatomico). Questo tavolino sarò il punto di partenza di nuove storie, nel nome di Dylan e di uno dei dischi fondamentali della storia.

#bob dylan #bringing it all back home #1965 #recensione

[groovyysav]

#bob dylan #such a fucking banger #bringing it all back home #1965 #Spotify

[history105rockandrollblog]

Lecture 6: “Subterranean Homesick Blues” (1965): This tune, from Bob Dylan’s fifth studio album Bringing it All Back Home (1965), was his first Top 40 hit, reaching #39 on the Billboard 100. Dylan drew on influences from Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, Chuck Berry, and the beat poet Jack Kerouac when writing “Subterranean Homesick Blues,” a song that alludes to contemporary issues such as  the emerging counter-culture and civil rights. The early music video was also innovative, particularly Dylan’s use of giant cue cards. Fun fact: Beat poet and counter-cultural icon Allen Ginsberg (with the beard) can be seen in the background, to the left. This scene is a clip from the late, great D. A. Pennebaker‘s landmark rockumentary, Don’t Look Back (1967).

#Bob Dylan #folk rock #folk music #Subterranean Homesick Blues #1965 #Allen Ginsberg #D. A. Pennebaker #Bringing it All Back Home (1965) #Don't Look Back (1967) #rockumentary

[quitecontraryy]

My love, she speaks like silence

Without ideals or violence

She doesn't have to say she's faithful

Yet she's true, like ice, like fire

People carry roses

Make promises by the hours

My love, she laughs like the flowers

Valentines can't buy her.

#bob dylan #love minus zero #bringing it all back home #1965

[gurugirl]

Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs

Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.

NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!

Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)

Daddy kink

Enemies to lovers

Summer vibes & party fics

Personal faves from my own writings

Other blogs I love

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@1d1195

One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.

@a-strange-familiar

Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.

@adorebeaa

One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…

@awideworldoffanfics

Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.

@be-with-me-so-happily

Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)

Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...

One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.

Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.

@bopbopstyles

Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)

@fkinavocado

Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)

Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)

One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs

@freedomfireflies

Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.

Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!

@goldenbuckyyy

Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)

@harryistheonlyoneforme

One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)

@harrywritingsbyme

Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT

@helladirections

Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words. 

One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.

One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together? 

@itslottiehere

One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.

@jawllines

Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)

Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)

Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)

Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry

Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)

@jarofstyles

King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry

Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry

Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.

@lemoncrushh

Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II

One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II

@lukesaprince

Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)

Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)

Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).

Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

@moonchildstyles

Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry

Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry

Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry

Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry

@0oolookitsme

One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy. 

One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n

@0nlythrowharrybeaux

Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.

Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.

@pleasingforharry

Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.

@purplekiwis

Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.

In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…

One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)

@s-brant

Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.

One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.

@stylesloveclub

Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy. 

@swiftmendeshoran

Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader

@watchmegetobsessed

Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.

Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.

Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader

@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)

One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader

@zayndrivesmeinvain

Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry

i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!

Wattpad

1-800-TITS = @1800titz (added May 21)

Series: The Devil is a Gentleman: "My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow casts between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two." His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all. "I think I recall, vaguely," she teases. "Mm. Vaguely. I'll take note of that. Well, although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading. The latter fragment of his statement prompts the steady bump of her heart to spur behind her ribcage. "You will address me as Master." Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level. "Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference." OR the one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, the exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two sides of the same coin.

_miiki

Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.

Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly

Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them

ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom

Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.

Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)

Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?

Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty

Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.

MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)

Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark

Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?

Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"

Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)

Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.

Petit_cerise

Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.

Sunflowersnstuff

Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.

ThousandYearsOfHope

Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?

Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.

Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)

Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."

#gurugirl fic recs #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry x reader #harry styles fic #my faves

[aphrogeneias]

it's been seven hours and fifteen days —

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you and eddie find each other again at the deuce. your reunion is surprisingly easy, but your past was from it.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: angst, fluff, some soulmate lore, childhood memories, small mentions of sickness and death (eddie's mom). reader is referred to by a nickname (joan).

series masterlist

It started with a book.

At first, you weren’t sure if that’s what it meant, though you were taught to expect it ever since you were able to understand the concept of soulmates, right about the time you were taught how to read and write.

Everyone had one, or at least that's what you were taught as well. As soon as you were able to remember, you'd hear stories about people finding their other half through their lost belongings, objects traveling around the world to the hands of the ones who held their owner's heart. 

Quite a simple concept, really. Everything that is lost by someone is never really lost, only found by their soulmate, and that was how they are supposed to find their way to each other. A trail of crumbs to your final destination, your fated pair.

You didn't understand how it worked until you started school. Then, it would become a reality, and not just the stories your mother would tell as she put you to bed at night and filled your little heart with wonder. Classmates would come in with their soulmates' things in their bag, eager to show them off — toys of all kinds, notebooks written in entirely different alphabets, earrings missing one pair, blankets, teddy bears.

In the year you started middle school, there were around four billion people in the world. You'd figured you would be one of the kids who's soulmate lived on the other side of the world, rather than the ones who found their other half on the next town over, or just a state away. It would be just your luck, of course.

It turned out you didn't have to look that far. He lived in the same neighborhood.

Your mom had a friend called Jane. You remember Jane because you thought she was beautiful, with her kind brown eyes and long flowing skirts. Jane seemed to you like a fairy from your storybooks, shrouded in ethereal mystery. She was always in your mother's kitchen, both of them sitting on your dinner table, and talking for what felt like hours, and she always brought along her son. A boy your age called Edward, or just Eddie, how he always liked to be called.

You barely remember a time where Eddie wasn't in your life. His mother would bring him along and you'd spend your afternoons together, playing and building worlds of your own on the carpet of your childhood bedroom. You were knights and princesses, pirates and mermaids, aliens and astronauts, but most of all you were free to be whoever you wanted to be in those golden-tinted days of your childhoods.

One day, when you were eleven, a book appeared on the floor of your bedroom. You recalled it just like that, because it wasn't there in one moment, and all you had to do was turn your head the other way, and when you looked back to that same spot, there it was.

A 1965 edition of The Fellowship of the Rings, by Ballantine Books. It had a blue cover with red details, and you knew right away it wasn't yours. You didn't own any of the Lord of the Rings trilogy books because you had never read them, and Eddie, already your best friend by then, never let you forget it.

Upon further inspection, you found two notes written on the first page. One was a note written in red ink, addressed to Jane by someone named Al — Eddie's das, that much you knew, and you also knew he wasn't around much — and below that, a more recent note written in blue ink that said:

"To my precious son,

Happy Birthday!

May you always find your way home.

From your mother.

06/11/1976"

At first, you'd thought Eddie had forgotten it on your last playdate, though you didn't remember him carrying a book with him that day. Your answer came a few days later when Jane was visiting, and you overheard her saying to your mother that Eddie was distraught upon finding that he'd lost his favorite book. He had brought it to school with him, and when he went home, it wasn't in his backpack.

It didn't take too long for you to put two and two together.

Scared of everyone's reactions — your mom's, Jane's, Eddie's — you hid it. The book and the truth, hidden in a box under your bed. You didn't know how to react, much less how to disclose this in a way that wouldn't change everything around you. You were a child, after all. Years later, you wondered how different your lives would have been if, instead of eavesdropping on their conversation, you had just told them what had happened. 

Jane Munson died not long after that, and you couldn't stop everything from changing, then. You didn't understand much, just that it was sudden, and fatal, and in the span of less than a year, she was gone. Eddie was distraught, and for weeks after the funeral, he was not the boy you knew and loved. He was a shell of himself, after losing his mother and moving to the trailer park with his uncle, since his father was in jail — something you'd just found out too. It was too much to assimilate, and even at twelve years old, you understood.

He started losing more things in that meantime.

You stared at a blank point that was vaguely at the height of the bottom of your bed as if it hid a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any minute.

Eddie was sitting on the chair of your vanity, going on and on about the new friends he had made at Hawkins Middle School, friends that didn't include you, since you were still at that phase where hanging out with boys, boys that weren't Eddie, gave you nausea. He was starting to feel a little more like himself again, his buzzed hair growing into small curls, his dimples giving a sign of life again as he started to smile more.

Still, though you were relieved, you were nervous. More of Eddie's things were finding their way to you. An action figure, a set of dice, a plastic mug. You did not know how to approach the subject, and it got more and more difficult as time went on. You felt like you were losing your timing, like the opportunity was slipping through your fingers each time you chose to stay quiet.

"You ever thought about what you'll do when you find your soulmate's things?"

Eddie groaned at your sudden interruption. "Really? That's what you're thinking about?"

"It's just that… See, this girl in my class…" Sighing, you give up making sense. "Whatever. Just answer the question."

"I don't know. That shit isn't real." 

You were still getting used to Eddie's slight change in demeanor. He was still the sweet boy you've known, but a little rougher around the edges. Angry at the world for taking away his mother, full of resentment towards his father, confused and scared. Though that anger was never directed at you, you felt some ripples of it, like right now.

“Of course it’s real, we see it all the time.”

Unable to meet his eyes, you hear a scoff coming from his direction. “I don’t know. My parents weren’t soulmates, your parents weren’t either. What are the chances?”

“Don’t say that. There’s always a chance…” Your voice got smaller and smaller, trying to take back what you’d said. It wasn’t the right time, and it wasn’t right for you to force this conversation with the grieving boy in front of you. He didn’t need one more thing to worry about, you told yourself.

“I don’t care. I think I’d just leave them alone.”

Nodding, you moved on to a different subject. It wasn’t the right time.

It would never be.

You thought you had forgotten what he looked like.

Which was impossible, because you saw him everywhere. You saw him in the long haired, rowdy boys you saw up and down Sunset Strip. You saw him in crowds of headbangers with their fists in the air. You saw him in guitar shops, in fantasy novels, in cans of spray paint and black pencils. In tight hugs and loud laughs. In the little kids playing at the park, holding hands and exchanging vows of eternal friendship. In yourself, whenever you look in the mirror.

You wondered if he saw you too. If he looked around at every corner he turned and there you were. A missing limb he could still feel even though it had been gone a long time. Twin ghosts haunting each other.

You couldn't forget even if you wanted to, and you never did, because he was a part of you — and now he was here, in the flesh, as if no time had passed between those five years you were gone. That’s what it felt like to you, at least, although both of you had changed a lot since then. From a distance, you could see Eddie stood taller, had a more confident stance to him. His shoulders were broader, his arms filled his jacket’s sleeves a little bit more. You fought the urge to let out a dreamy sigh, almost forgetting you were on the verge of tears not two minutes before this.

The urgent phone call you were having with Robin had to be cut short when you heard a series of impatient knocks on the door of the staff room. It was Linda, asking you what you were doing there. You mumbled something about needing to make a quick call, but that went through one ear and fell out the other, as Linda was locking your arm with hers and leading you to the front of the small stage where Corroded Coffin dealt with their equipment.

Trying to disguise your trembling, a sinking feeling that took over your whole body, you held tightly onto Linda’s arm, and planted yourself firmly to the ground where you stopped. 

“Boys, boys! I want you to meet someone. This is Joan, everyone’s favorite waitress.”

He was the first one who reacted, while his friends, your old friends, only gawked. Gareth dropped his drumsticks, Jeff had opened his mouth three times before deciding not to say anything — which made you realize he didn’t have his braces anymore — and Grant, ever the expressive one, had both eyebrows raised, giving away all his surprise.

“Joan?”

“Because I’m a runaway, like Joan… Jett.” That wasn’t the first, the second or the hundredth time you had to explain that dumb nickname. Joan was not your real name, it wasn’t even close to it, but Linda was insistent on calling you that. She thought it was funny, a runaway girl from the midwest trying to make her way through Los Angeles, and she’d been calling you that since your first week working there. “Not her most creative moment.”

“It’s so fucking good to see you!” Jeff was the first to break the silence, and then the other boys followed suit, engulfing you in tight hugs, releasing all, or at least most of, the tension inside of you. Giggling softly, you hugged them back.

“It’s good to see you too, guys. It’s been a long time.”

The only people who didn’t join were Linda, who stood confused to the side, and Eddie, who stayed in place, looking paler than he already was, like he would pass out at any moment. You felt the same, but Eddie was the one who always wore his feelings on his sleeve, not you.

“What exactly is this?” Your boss asked, pointing her red stiletto nails at the scene unfolding in front of her. “Where do you know her from?”

“From our hometown.” You explained, tucking your hands into the back pockets of your jeans, trying to make yourself smaller. “We went to the same school.”

“More like the only school in town.” Gareth laughed. “It’s a small town but an even smaller world, I guess.”

“Just wait until you get settled here. Everyone knows everyone, it’s worse than Hawkins.” You scoffed, trying to lighten up the mood. “How long have you been here?”

“Almost a month.” Eddie was the one who answered, finally finding his voice. “We’ve been bouncing from bar to bar until Linda was kind enough to take us in now.”

“You’re welcome, dear. It will be a pleasure to have you here. Now…”

As Linda started to explain some of the basic rules of operations of The Deuce — opening and closing times, where to find everything, introducing them to the other staff members — you and Eddie stayed behind, a thin veil of tension still standing between you, but then, Eddie reached out, an outstretched arm forward, beckoning you with a soft voice, “C’mere.”

And you went, with no hesitation. For a moment, you even felt silly for all that fuss you made moments before, that anxiety that threatened you to burn a hole on the ground and swallow you whole. It was just Eddie, the boy who used to hold your hand whenever you felt this exact same way, all those years ago. Ironic how he was the cause and the cure to all of your problems.

You let him wrap his arms around you, closing the gap that the red thread connecting you was pulling and pulling until you were pressed together again, bodies joined like two pieces of a puzzle. You stayed like that for a full minute, your arms around his narrow waist, his squeezing you to his chest until it hurt, but you didn’t dare let go, and for the first time in a long time, you felt right. You were home again.

“I missed you so much.” You found courage to say something in your hiding place, your head pressed to his chest. His smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne was oddly calming, making you breath in deeply. 

“I missed you too.” Eddie took a small step back, raising one hand to the back of your head, holding you in place. You were pretty sure you had the dumbest lovestruck look in your eyes while you looked at him, but you couldn’t really care at that moment. You could be embarrassed later. “How have you been?”

“I, uh…” 

“Hey, Van Halen!” Linda called out from the other side of the bar, snapping her fingers at you, “you can catch up later. Get your pretty boy ass over here.”

Untangling from each other, you’re both clearly flustered, Eddie’s face a blooming shade of pink. You’re quick to remedy it. “We can talk later, after your show. After I clock out. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure.” 

He walked away, then, still looking back at you. Both smiling, both feeling the relief of that red string, now much less strained, but no less beaten. Far from healing, but one step closer. At least, that’s how you felt, but you knew that was only the beginning of a long and winding road to the recovery of your friendship. You didn’t dare to think of something more, crushing the seeds of hope that threatened to take root in your heart.

They were just as stubborn as you, though, and settled anyway.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic

[sgiandubh]

When you do not know a thing about the issue at stake...

...perhaps it's better to remain silent.

Some of you know, others don't - and that's fine - but my main field of expertise is labor law.

I just read this in anger and disbelief:

Look, lady. I don't care who the hell you are, what you do for a living or why you felt entitled to answer those insistent questions on your side of the fandom. I suppose you are North American and have no idea of how things work on this side of the pond. It is fine: I might know what a Congress filibuster is, for example, but I'd be severely unable to judge the finer points of competence sharing between Fed and state level.

The difference between you and me?

I keep my mouth shut and/or do my own research before opening it in public.

Have you no shame to write things like: 'It was discovered clothing factories in Bulgaria and Portugal made it and how workers were exploited, mostly women, because these factories were in special economic zones in these countries exempt from EU employee rights and regulations.'

HOW DARE YOU? What strange form of illiterate entitlement possessed you to utter such things with confidence, comfortably hidden behind a passive voice ('it was discovered')?

Portugal joined the EU in 1986. Bulgaria (and my country) joined the EU in 2007. I have given 5 relentless years of my life to make this collective political project a reality, along with hundreds of other people my age who chose to come back home from the West and put their skills to good use for their country. In doing so, I rejected more than 10 excellent corporate job offers in France and China. To see you come along and write such enormities is like having you spit in my face.

Article 4 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (aka The Treaty of Rome) is formal and clear, as far as competence sharing between the EU and its Member States goes (the UK was still, back then, a full member of the EU - it quit on February 1st 2020):

That means that ALL the EU regulations are being integrated into the national legislation of the Member States. This is not a copy/paste process, however. And because it is a shared competence area, the Member States have a larger margin of appreciation into making the EU rules a part of their own. While exceptions or delays in this process can be and are negotiated, the core principles are NEVER touched.

Read it one hundred times, madam, maybe you'll learn something today:

THERE ARE NO SPECIAL ECONOMIC ZONES IN THE EUROPEAN UNION. THE WHOLE FUCKING EUROPEAN UNION IS A SPECIAL ECONOMIC ZONE, THIS IS WHY IT IS CALLED THE SINGLE MARKET.

What the fuck do you think we are, Guangzhou? We'd wish, seeing the growth statistics!

Now, for the textile industry sector and particularly with regard to the Bulgarian market, a case very similar to my own country. Starting around 1965, many big European textile players realized the competitive advantage of using the lower paid, readily available Eastern European workforce. In order to be able to do business with all those dour Communist regimes, the solution was simple and easy to find: toll manufacturing.

It worked (and still does!) like this:

The foreign partner brings its own designs, textiles and know-how into the mix - or more simply put, it outsources all these activities. The locals transform it into the finished product, using their own workforce. The result is then re-exported to the foreign partner, who labels it and sells it. In doing so, he has the legal obligation to include provenance on the label ('made in Romania', 'made in Indonesia', 'made in Bulgaria' - you name it).

The reason you might find less and less of those 'made in ' labels nowadays at Primark and more and more at Barbour, Moncler and the such is the constant raise of the workers' wages in Eastern Europe since 1990 (things happened there, in 1989, maybe you remember?). We are not competitive anymore for midrange prêt-à-porter - China (Shein, anyone?), Cambodia and Mexico do come to mind as better suppliers. To speak about 'exploited female labourers in rickety old factories' is an insult and a lie. They weren't exploited back in the Eighties, as they are not now (workers in those factories were and still are easily paid about 50% more than all the rest) and the factories being modernized and constantly updated was always a mandatory clause in any contract of the sort. Normal people in our countries rarely or ever saw those clothes. You had to either be lucky enough for a semi-confidential store release or bribe someone working there and willing to take the risk, in order to be able to buy the rejected models on the local market.

If I understood correctly, you place this critical episode at the launch of the limited SRH & Barbour collection, for the fall of 2018. How convenient for you, who (I am told by trusted people) were one of the most vocal critics of S during Hawaii 2.0!

And as far as Barbour goes, it never pretended to manufacture everything in the UK only:

This information is absolutely true. You can read the whole statement, signed in October 2017 by one of their Directors, Ian Sime, here: https://www.barbour.com/us/media/wysiwyg/PDF/Ethical_Statement_October_2017.pdf

And a snapshot for you:

Oh, and: SEDEX is a behemoth in its world, with more than 75.000 companies joining as a member (https://www.sedex.com/become-a-member/meet-our-customers/). Big corporations like TESCO, Dupont, Nestle, Sainsbury's or Unilever included.

I am not Bulgarian, but I know all of this way better than you'll probably ever do. The same type of contracts were common all over Eastern Europe: Romania, Poland, the GDR (that's East Berlin and co, for you) and even the Soviet Union. I am also sure your Portuguese readers will be thrilled to see themselves qualified by a patronizing North American as labor exploiters living in a third-world country with rickety factories.

You people have no shame and never did. But you just proved with trooping colors you also have no culture and no integrity. More reasons to not regret my unapologetic fandom choice.

I expect an angry and very, very vulgar answer to this, even if I chose to not include your name/handle. The stench of your irrelevance crossed an ocean.

#fandom #shitshow

[periwinkle-musings]

Did Taylor Swift write "Sweet Nothing" about Paul McCartney and his wife's summer in Wicklow in 1971?

The song "Sweet Nothing" on Taylor Swift's Midnights has always stood out to me as a bit of an anomaly. Until this intriguing quote by Paul McCartney caught my eye:

In a 2001 ABC interview about his wife Linda, who passed away in 1998, Paul McCartney said:

"I would go out for a run, think of some words, get home from the run, write them down, and make a cup a tea for Linda," said McCartney, who would bring it to her for breakfast. "I'd make a little tray, and go up, and then I'd say, 'Hey, by the way, do you want to hear some poetry?' She'd always … she'd say, 'Yeah.' And so I wrote that poem." 'Blessed.' I would come back from a run. With lines of poetry to tell. And having listened, she would say "What a mind."

This is a direct quote and exact same storyline as in "Sweet Nothing." There is NO WAY that is a coincidence. So I wanted to see if Paul and Linda had any connection to Wicklow - the place mentioned in the song. 

I think the McCartney family vacationed at the Luggala Estate in Co. Wicklow, Ireland in the summer of 1971 as an escape from the aftermath of the Beatles breakup.

A sweet Wicklow love story:

Paul McCartney has connections to Luggala going back to 1965-1966 when he partied at the estate with Guinness Brewing heir Tara Browne who was killed in a car accident a few months after his raucous 21st birthday, and inspired the Beatles song "A Day in the Life." Paul was close to Tara and his death deeply impacted him. This Rolling Stone article details their relationship and mentions that Paul has visited Luggala to visit Tara's gravesite since then on "numerous occasions." Paul had not met his wife Linda yet while Tara was alive, but this proves Paul's deep and personal ties to the family and their 5,000 acre private estate in the Wicklow Mountains, which continued to be a private retreat for celebrity guests until it was sold in 2019.

Paul McCartney has posted multiple family photos taken by his wife in the summer of 1971 that appear to be taken near the Luggala Estate in Co. Wicklow. He tweeted this photo on St. Patricks day in 2017 which a previous Reddit thread links to Wicklow in 1971. And recently on March 2022 he tweeted this photo which appears to be taken the same day judging by his shirt and his dog, and credits the photo as being taken by his wife (she was a professional photographer) in Ireland in 1971. Here you have a better view of the surrounding mountains and rocky streams (full of pebbles I'd imagine...) It's notable that the second photo was posted March 2022 around the time when Taylor would be writing and recording the Midnights album.

If you look at the aerial view of Luggala Estate (Now showing on Google Maps as Luggala Lodge), I believe that these photos were taken in one of the rocky streams that feed into the private lake...which is named Lough Tay. (I like to think it's an extra little wink from Taylor that this investigation literally led me to a lake named Lough Tay.)

This area is completely private and the closest public access is from a hiking overlook. This seems like a great place for one of the most famous musicians in the world to hide out with his two young children, 2 dogs, and Linda, who would have been pregnant with Stella McCartney (born Sept 13, 1971).

We know that the family and their dogs were in Ireland in the summer of 1971 from this newspaper article where they were photographed at an airport in August leaving Ireland, which means it's possible that they were in Wicklow a few weeks earlier in July.

Even though The Beatles broke up in 1969, it continued to be messy between members of the band and the financials involved for the next few years. During the summer of 1971 Paul McCartney and John Lennon were embroiled in a very public fight. There were lawsuits and scathing letters (dated 1971) and it's all very complicated so I won't go into it here, but this article has a good overview.

The lyric, "Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors and smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other" could reference these incidents. I could see Taylor relating to Paul going through this public turmoil surrounding business with former friends, because it is similar to what she's going through with her masters.

The lyric "You're in the kitchen humming" could reference Linda's passion for cooking and vegetarian activism. She literally founded a food company and wrote a cookbook. This darling photo on her website shows her cooking at the family home in Scotland in the 1970s. Linda was also a singer and recorded many songs with Paul, so the idea that she could be "humming" makes sense.

Taylor Swift has been friends with the McCartney family for a while. She first met Paul in 2010. She collaborated with Stella McCartney in 2019 for a clothing line as part of the Lover era, and Stella also dressed her for the Evermore album cover in 2020.

Taylor and Paul McCartney famously interviewed each other for Rolling Stone's "Musicians on Musicians" in 2020. In this article they mention how they both like writing under pseudonyms.

But the most surprising thing I learned is that Paul actually wrote a song dedicated to Taylor and her relationship with her fans called "Who Cares."

Notably, the music video also features Taylor's longtime friend Emma Stone wearing rainbow makeup in an otherwise black-and-white world full of cartoonish bullies. It's notable that the music video was released Dec 2018, right before the Lover era would kick off a few months later. Perhaps Paul was showing a bit of preemptive support for Taylor as she embarked on what many of us believe was intended to be her coming out era?

Now to the William Bowery of it all:

Taylor clearly wants us to think Sweet Nothing is about Joe because of the Wicklow name drop, where Joe was papped in July 2021, which looks staged to me.

Interestingly, I can't find any photos of Taylor being seen anywhere near Wicklow, but for some reason she staged a whole photoshoot in Northern Ireland in July, where locals said she "arrived and left by helicopter in a fleeting visit."

She was also seen in several different locations in Belfast in fan photos. This article also says part of Red TV was recorded in Belfast.

Clearly she wanted to be seen and linked to Northern Ireland, and the lyric easily could have been "Does it ever miss Belfast sometimes?" (same number of syllables) but it's not.

"Sweet Nothing" does have a William Bowery co-writing credit. Would Sir Paul McCartney agree to a secret writing credit? Maybe.

I read an interesting twitter thread from a lawyer (who is a Gaylor) that discusses how William Bowery could be a name under which Taylor commissions writing "for hire." Meaning it could be Joe or multiple other people writing under that pseudonym, as opposed to the "Willam Bowery" (spelled different) which is listed as a U.S. Citizen.

Even if Paul wasn't involved in writing the song, I believe he inspired "Sweet Nothing."

---

Note: This theory was originally posted on the R/GaylorSwift subreddit Dec 22, 2022 which is currently set to private. I am the original author of the Reddit post (u/-periwinkle), and am reblogging it on my Tumblr because this theory has been gaining traction and I wanted to create a public version. This version has been slightly expanded and updated with better images. Also, I was not the first person to uncover the "what a mind" quote, and the original person who found it is tagged on Reddit.

#taylor swift #gaylor theory #gaylor #sweet nothing #paul mccartney #the beatles #william bowery

[hannahleah]

Bob Dylan and Sally Grossman (Bringing it All Back Home Album Cover) Woodstock New York 1965 by Daniel Kramer

#Bob Dylan #Sally Grossman #Daniel Kramer #photography #music photography #vintage #rock and roll

[bobdylan-n-jonimitchell]

The Byrds “Mr. Tambourine Man” 1965.

#420 #The Byrds #Mr. Tambourine Man #Mr. Tambourine Man (1965) #1965 #1960s #Video #Bob Dylan #Cover #Bringing It All Back Home (1965) #David Crosby #Roger McGuinn

[balladofhollisbrown]

on this day in 1965, bob dylan released his fifth studio album bringing it all back home. it is considered one of the first folk rock records, with both an acoustic and electric side.

#bob dylan #bringing it all back home #literallly one of my fav albums of all time

[mistresswriter19]

It's Called " Inspection " Ma'am~ Cop Doppelganger Francis X Reader " NSFW 🔞 "

Author's Note: 🔞 SMUT WARNING NO MINORS 🔞. Did a fan au of what if Francis became a cop and made it into a one-shot you're in for a quite of a ride. Thank you all so much for the support of my previous fic more Milkman content on the way X ❤️

~1965~

You smile everytime you see the Milkman passing by delivering fresh milk door to door. You wish that he would talk to you for hours because Francis really did enjoy your company and vent about his stinking dead end job sometimes. You always smile and encourage Francis to keep going no matter how hard things are and by the end of the day Francis did think about you even when he looked at the milk labels all he could think of was your beautiful face.

"Your so helpful Francis "

"I always keep the milk jugs for anything i use and I never throw them out "

"You always bring fresh milk and that's why I encourage myself to drink more especially for my bones"

"Thank you Franics "

After picking up more crates from his job Francis one day is going to ask you on a date but he was afraid of rejection and what would it do for his other job that no one knows about even his all time crush would hate his guts.

Every milkman left for home except for Francis he had to change to a different uniform for the next job either it was day or night and when he delivered milk, he had to be right on time. Francis heard on the walkie talkie that a new doppelganger has been spotted and his job was to eliminate them. Since it was still dusk Francis walked with this long rubber boots heading to his motorcycle that ( SPO) " Secret Police Organization " has offer him to get there faster and people will only know that Francis is a traffic cop in public. Starting up the engine with his leather gloves on the steer he went up the highway wearing his black shades. Wearing all black, a police badge, and a helmet was a perfect way to stay anonymous. A way Francis is able to find these doppelgangers is to pull them over for a ticket or when they are sleeping. Sometimes when they're awake and not paying attention he pulls the trigger from his pistol and of its more then one he brings out his M21 assault rifle unfortunately he also had to take down witnesses.

No rest for the wicked ~ Francis mutters as he gets off his motorcycle, Turning off the engine takes his bag where he has a display of weapons he carries whenever he has to do the job.

Getting ready, Francis places the bullets in the insert place of the gun and clicks making sure it's ready to fire. His target was Angus Ciprianni the local businessman, more of a cyster everytime he grins to make deals with other companies knowing he'll get most of the profits. Another companion he noticed close to Angus were two, Dr. W Afton and Mia Stone, Francis had seen them before but he had restless nights being up from them having sex.

It was more of a quiet night which Francis preferred as he spies on Angus who was putting his folder away and drinking bourbon with him. This was a good time to strike.

Back At Y/N's apartment

You just finished helping a neighbor of yours Mclooy Rudboys who was a retired he kind of look like a little bit of a the colonel from the KFC commercials. You always helped him whenever his son Steven was on airplanes far where his father was at so weather it was lifting boxes or buying things Mclooy needed you're always there to lean a hand .

Well thank you kindly Ms. L/N this was definitely be all for today.

It's always a pleasure, Mclooy, you said, placing the boxes to the other side of the room and using your elbow to take the sweat off your face.

Are you seeing anyone? Mclooy asked sitting on the bed taking his boots off pretty odd for him to say that out of the blue.

Umm no.. not really

Francis is quite an interesting man I tell ya and I'm saying that is because Steven tells me that you would always look at Francis for a while even if he doesn't notice you.

Well I really do like him alot, I'm just afraid of rejection you said lowering your head with your hands behind your back. As Mclooy chuckles puffing a cigar.

Y/N I see you got sprirt, you work hard, you help others like me, and I'm sure if you ask Francis out it wouldn't make you so anxious. Just get a try and I'm rooting for you and him if it works out. Mclooy said patting your back as he lays back reading to get some shut eye

Thanks Mclooy you said with a warm smile having the courage once more. You did want to ask Francis for a very long time even when it came to his work hours but hiding every place where he won't see you can't keep up forever.

I'll see him tomorrow morning you said as you wave to Mclooy closing the door and heading downstairs going to your apartment second floor and went your room and flopped on the bed.

Will he like me… you said tugging on the pillow to get some rest since tomorrow you'll be on the road for a while.

In Angus Apartment

Francis stays silent for a moment as he had the ringing of the girls voice it was Y/N once again. He didn't want this job but how can he keep others like Y/N safe from this contamination of doppelgangers even if he has to kill anyone because witness are forbidden to see unless your a SCO like Francis was.

"Francis your always welcome to come over "

( BOOM)

Opening the door Angus holding his bourbon looks to see Francis aiming his gun but he dodges and and runs out of the run as Francis speed walks. Angus grabs Francis the side of the back punching him and slamming him against glass picture as Francis fights back punching him more and reached out for the gun, Angus used the bourbon bottle to hit Francis causing him to collapse while Angus goes to the door and knocks. The one who open the door was Dr. Afton as Mia who was fully nude stands by his side confused

Angus what the hell happened to you? Dr. Afton said his hand over his head seeing the injured businessman.

Doctor what's the hold up? Mia said pouting tugging on Afton's hand to come back to bed with her

Franics has lost his fucking mind, bastard trying to kill me!? Angus explained using a towel to hold his wound not sooner or later Francis comes in starting to shoot, Mia screams in panic as she sees Afton being shot by bullets ad Francis shots her right in the skull on the bed, Afton makes a rub for it to the exit but drops on the ground when he felt a bullet on his chest not making it. Francis sighs seeing the damage and mess just for hunting down doppelgangers. Using his leather boot he turns to see Francis face more closely, seeing worms coming down. Leaving him like this Francis got on his motorcycle and headed back home had to wash the blood off his uniform and face.

You heard a pair of footsteps coming up to your floor, you decided to get up adjusting the lace nightgown open the door a little to see who it was and you guess correctly. It was Francis but was strange for you. He wasn't wearing his milkman uniform and why would be out this late. You heard your door creek causing Francis to turn his head and come forward to you.

Francis… you said your hands covering your chest a little slowing walking back

Y/N… what have you done. Francis just blur out as he look at the blood dripping down his black leather glove and the fear mixed with guilt upon Y/N's face he wanted to touch her face but his glove hand turn into a fits as he slames the door while you were puzzled and stuttering. This wasn't the Francis you knew it had to be a doppelganger. It couldn't be the real him. You had a hard time managing to sleep so you rest your eyes a little holding a knife close to your chest hoping he doesn't come back in.

FUCK! Francis yelled throwing his empty glass milk jars on the ground Y/N wasn't supposed to look or be a witness now he had to kill her but he didn't want to. Y/N has been the only one who understands him and make him smile and always opens the door for her fresh milk. Francis attend to sleep but in the morning he would have to exterminate Y/N .

Morning

You got up and noticed you kept the knife still all night but your lack of sleep didn't help you move much. You had a strangest feeling that you were being watched or a target. You put on some usual clothes, your heels, and duffle bag because you had to get away, you knew being in your apartment wouldn't be safe. You look at the time the sun was going to rise, grabbing your keys, used a sun hat and glasses to hide your face and added scarf in general locking your apartment door and started to speed run downstairs.

Francis was up cleaning his gun and heard footsteps, putting on his boots, jacket, helmet and glasses he went to next door to your apartment he adjust the knob nothing, so he kicked the door open and you were gone. Francis speed walk down the stairs and got onto his motorcycle to find you.

You were riding in the middle of nowhere full on gas of your vehicle took a few turns and you were the only one on the road. You went to apply lipstick since you didn't had time to make yourself look pretty like you always do every morning. You wish to confess to Francis but now it was more like a huge question mark in your brain.

You look back to see a cop on his motorcycle but he didn't put on his siren which you find odd since most cops turn it on when they follow you all the way. Your fingers curled up with pressure on the steering wheel as the cop got closer. You turn the other way to pull over and turn off your engine.

I wasn't speeding, did I ever pay for a ticket? You thought to yourself millions of questions trying not to panic. You exhale in and out as you see the cop approach your car with a gentle knock on your windshield.

Tap, tap, tap,

You look to the officer waiting and you took a good glance and already you were mesmerized from his black jacket, black leather pants, his boots, gloves and shades why did a anonymous cop like this one was making you feel have heat in between your legs.

Hi Officer, is there something wrong?

Hello Ma'am yes there is, do you know why stopped you? The cop leaning closer as your face was an inch to is making your cheeks turns shades of red.

No you said trying not to get distraction from his unnecessary charm.

You were speeding, and I understand if you need to be somewhere but as a cop I have to keep on check for anyone who breaks the law~ The cop explained placing his glove hand on his chest as you nodded

I'm sorry officer but I don't think I was spreading consider maybe passing through but I didn't go over 50 and above you explain.

License and registration please ma'am the cop answered waiting for you to do your part.

Oh right here you said giving your license to the cop as he took a look but then he look back at you.

I need to see your full face ma'am just to be sure that this is you the cop ordered but you afraid but also didn't want to be put behind bars. You sigh and took the scarf, sun hat and sunglasses revealing your face the cop didn't move for a second.

Ma'am there's no way you could look that… beautiful..( Coughs)

Thank you, you said but then you heard the ringing in your ear that tone of that voice was familiar and he kept saying ma'am most cops do say ma'am or miss but this one kept saying it constantly.

Francis? You blur out as Francis look back in complete shock that you recognize him but he stepped back going back to his motorcycle. As you wait for a while but saw him reloading a gun. You turn back and started your vehicle and immediately drove off.

Ma'am, Ma'am .. Y/N! Francis shouted your name but you were already back on the road. Aggravated, Francis start up his motorcycle and went on the trail to follow and hunt you down like a wolf and bunny chase you down.

You looked around no cars still but look at the back you saw Francis catching up to you pulling out his gun starting to shoot at your window. You swift and swerved your vehicle it was a technique that you're father had taught you when it came to dealing with people coming after you. Francis speed up his motorcycle inches to your window going through the highway and made a turn to a nearby exit where it lead to an factory of mattress and pillows. You yield on your car causing Francis to slide off his motorcycle from the speed and falling. You manage to park your car to open the factory backdoor running around to find a place to hide.

Ugh… Dammit… she's got Spunk in her blood. Francis mumbled as got up from the ground and look at the stains of blood from his cuts and marks when he fell. He spit on the concrete back on his motorcycle and riding again until he found your vehicle parked in a mattress and pillow factory. Francis got off the motorcycle, pulling out his gun heading instead walking in a medium pace looking around the building. He pulled out a flashlight since it was pitchblack investigating around the area he was in.

You were roaming around thousands of mattress and pillows, kneeling down you hid for a while, holding onto your breath as you heard footsteps coming and bullets being fired.

I know you didn't want to me this way Y/N, but now you know, I'm not just your local milkman every fucking day. He said reloading his gun from the bullets falling on the floor as he steps more while looking .

I'm a cop but not the ones your use to, a cop that exterminates doppelgangers and witnesses and unfortunately for you. Francis replied as he pulls off the mattress to see you as you were opening the doors running downstairs and going to a room were there nothing but completed beds ready to be delivered.

Your a witness and I can't let that go. Francis said as he got close as he three his shades off the ground and reveal his face nothing but black eyes and a large smiling mouth he was a doppelganger. You screamed in and immediately felt your arms being grabbed and pinned as you kicked Francis causing his gun to be thrown on the other side. You went to reach it only to have your face being hit on the ground a few times, you used the bag wrapped around Francis bag causing him to choke but he spin causing you to bumper into a few shelf letting go. Francis rip the bag but you grabber onto him using your hands as fits but he just chuckles and put the gun close to your face.

FRANCIS I LOVE YOU, I ALWAYS HAVE, BUT WHY WOULD YOU EXTERMINATE ME!? AFTER ALL I DONE FOR YOU? You said on the verge of tears and face dripping blood with a few cuts. Francis look back for a moment his finger on the trigger but the fact he couldn't believe that you confess to him made him think more.

You loved me? Francis said as he black droppy ink soulless eyes were returning to his normal face the one you yearn for so much and deeply missed.

Yes Francis I don't care if your different and kill doppelgangers but if you even you pull the trigger let just do this.

Francis still had the gun on your head but you lean into him giving him a long passionate kiss causing Francis to hold onto you with your arms upon his black leather jacket shoulder kissing you a little force and tongue slipped in between. Francis wanted this more then over he finally let's go

Fuck it.. I can't take it anymore.. Francis said as he lower the gun, grabbed you by the own throwing you onto the nearby mattress where he got on top your hands pinned as Francis kissed you uncontrollably as you did the same legs spread a little as Francis takes off your top seeing you had no bra with a few whimpers he gently sucked on your nipples, nice, perky and perfect to rest his face on.

Your nipples were made for me, perhaps one day I could milk them in my private time when I deliver my daily milks door to door~ Francis cooed as he wip the salvia from his bottom lip and sucked slowly on your neck, your fingers dangled around the leather for a grip and hear the rubber sound tightened whenever he hit your sensitive spot making you moan.

Ahh… Francis.. oh Francis..ahh you said having a hard time with words because everything Francis did was pleasure and indulgence. You felt his glove caressing your hair with his lips getting more sloppy with yours as he let's go and unbuckles his pants while you were hyperlating as Francis look back at you

So beautiful, yet so delicate, you want this cock inside your wanting slit~ Francis said teasing his cock rubbing in your entrance making you bit your lip in between

I might have to warn you darling ~ I like to go pretty rough~ think you can take this cop's cock hmm~ Francis as you were on the urge to just let him be in

Please Franics, do it already….I need you

What a lovely answer darling your such a minx~ Francis replied as he slammed his cock in the bulb of your entrance making you jolt as Francis holds you down with his leather gloves inside your mouth to keep calm as he starts to thrusts inside your wet hole.

You like that baby~ Fuck you're so tight, should have done this a long time ago~ Francis said slamming more of his cock back and forth you felt so horrible about fucking a doppelganger but you needed sex and the way this Francis made you so wet you just wanted him. You gagged in between words from the fingers inside your mouth as he pulls out he slams more of his lips into your lips.

Francis..ahh… yes..ahh haa…you said with your eyes rolled back as you manage to get his jacket off and top feeling his fit muscular body slapping to your body with the two of you hold on as Francis pick up the pace.

Ahhh ahh ~ you kept saying feeling your inside being tear painful yet but the pleasure really made it more enjoyable the mattress rocking back and forth.

Fuck….fuck I'm close…I'm going to cum inside you need slut and you're going to take every inch of me~ Francis said as he held onto the bed frame saw the mattress was already sticking with cum and lipstick marks.

Please yes, please Francis ahhhh~ You said in between your head back with Francis hair a mess slamming in more and more as he made a loud groan when he felt the cum dripping down your pussy with the wave of lust finally released.

Fuck Y/N~ you were incredible Francis praise as he leans into to kiss you more softly a little aftercare.

Francis… please stay with me… you said with your nude body cuddling up to his with your face hiding against his broad chest as he sighs his fingers caressing your hair and his other hand holding the edge of your palm

I'm not going anywhere darling Francis replied with a warm smile which made your face flushed pink since you haven't seen Francis really smile that much. It felt so inviting and he was really open to you.

The two of you rest in the mattress where you both made love with your liquids around of course both of you have to clean up your mess after a few hours of resting.

End~

#tnmn milkman #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses x you #milkman #cop #au #oneshots #fanfics #fanfiction #x reader #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #smut #francis #milkman1950s #tnmn #femalewriter #mistresswriter19

[houseofbrat]

Today is 28 February 2024. There is one day left in this month because it's leap year.

William has done less than ten engagements for the year. He's not going to reach double digits by tomorrow. Wimpy William hasn't worked "full time" since last December before the kids got out of school.

It's Wednesday, and as of this writing, The King with cancer has done more work this week than William. Because King Charles met with PM Sunak today while William was at home sucking his thumb.

Did William travel to Namibia last week for the funeral of former President Hage Gottfried Geingob? Nope. Is funeral duty part of the heir to the throne's job? Yup. But we all know that The Will & Kate Cult will tell you it isn't because William is never to blame for anything. Because Princess Anne will take up the slack and do her nephew's job when she should have been attending a rugby match with her husband. Because Anne is a chip off the ol' block, aka Philip, while William is proving himself to be more and more Spencer with every day that goes by.

All you have to do is look at all the excuses made by The Will & Kate Cult when it came to William's comments at the BAFTAs. William admitted he hardly had seen any of the nominated films, even though most if not all were released in theaters and available via streaming before the nominations were announced.

Oh, but then the complaint was that Prince Philip and Princess Anne didn't watch all the nominated films each year when they were presidents of BAFTA either. Guess what? Streaming wasn't available back then. Philip was president from 1959 to 1965 while Anne was president from 1973 to 2001. Guess what? When Philip was president, he would have had to see a movie/film in the theater or by special request at Buckingham Palace. Availability by VHS wasn't necessarily a thing for the first part of Anne's presidency because most films didn't come out on VHS until more than six months after they were out of the theater. When Batman (1989) was released on VHS in the same year of its initial release prior to Christmas, it was a HUGE deal. It was still playing in theaters when it was released on VHS, which was considered a quick release. DVDs didn't start being prominent until the end of Anne's presidency.

But really it brings it back to Anne and Philip being either president or patron of tens or hundreds of organizations, which neither Will nor Kate are. Will and Kate have said that they aren't going to do the ceremonial-type thing and would instead be more "involved" with their patronages, which--if people actually stop and think about it--is why most people assume William has an interest in film beyond meeting Tom Cruise. Except he clearly doesn't.

But then The Will & Kate Cult want William to be judged by the same standard as those who actually work in the film industry. Because they complained that even those who work in the film industry don't see 100% of the movies. Interesting how the standard always changes according to The Will & Kate Cult. There are people within AMPAS, who will be voting for Robert Downey Jr. for Best Supporting Actor for Oppenheimer, who haven't seen that film. And you know what? They're allowed to. Because they may have worked with him in the past. Or they might have voted for him before when he was nominated for Best Actor for Chaplin when he was up against heavy weights such as Denzel or Pacinao. But, you know, AMPAS members actually work in the industry, unlike The Prince of Wales who has a different job that he doesn't seem all that intent on doing.

But we're not supposed to mention that because William puts his "family first." Or whatever the new excuse is. The last one was "personal matter." Uh huh.

#well there's your problem #The Workshy Waleses #Workshy Will #prince william #William The Terrible #William The Weak #William The Prince of Wales #Prince & Princess OWN GOALS #The Celebrity Activists also known as The Prince & Princess of Wales #bafta #royal patronages #prince philip #princess anne #fleet street #richard kay

[jaidens]

may I have a dark shaken espresso with Sodapop please?

Darling, I'd Wait For You —

pairing [s] : sodapop curtis x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : crying, breakups | this took so long, I couldn't think about anything to write abt i apologize!!

a/n [s] : requests are open! this is a part of my 350 followers celebration!

When your, trashy, ex-boyfriend decides to leave you for a one-hour hookup he was convinced would stay: it hurt you more than you imagined. Originally, your feelings were influenced with anger and hatred for seeing a random girl and your boyfriend thrusting into her. You ran, and ran until your legs were burning worse than the frosty air and tears that gathered in your eyes and down your cheeks.

Coincidentally, Sodapop had been driving home from work when he noticed a girl crying on the park benches. The snow that fell worried him, so he gathered his jacket and got out of his truck. “Hey! What are you doing out in this weather?” You ripped your head up at the voice, which you had recognized to be Soda’s, yelling at you. You felt completely broken and weak as Soda was in front of you.

“Y/N, hey, hey, what are you doing out here?” His voice is softer and slightly above a whisper, hoping to not scare you. He's only seen you like this so many times, and it scares him more than usual seeing the way you shake. His jacket wraps around you, and you can't help but jump into his arms. “C’mon. The truck is just over there.” He picks you up, hand going underneath your thighs as he brings you over to the truck.

You're numb as he places you inside the seat, and you buckle yourself in. The radio is playing Elvis quietly. Sodapop glances at you before beginning to drive on the road once more. The warm feeling of Sodapop radiates off as he hums and sings along to the gentle radio. Admittedly, throughout your relationship with your ex-boyfriend, there had been some stares and longing hugs you shared with Soda.

The truck stops at the Curtis house. The window blinds are shut, but lights are still turned on signifying not everyone had been asleep.

You walk to his bedroom, passing by a asleep Two-Bit and Dallas. You go into his bedroom and pull on his sweatshirt that was hanging on his door. It hangs loose, but it warms up your arms.

Moments later, Sodapop comes back with two cups of hot chocolate. You're in his thick Will Rodgers Highschool Football 1965 sweater, with a blanket pulled up to your legs. “Hey, tell me what happened if you're already.” Sodapop reassures and sets down the cups on Ponyboy’s small table that had books stacked up on each other.

“I caught him, Rich was— with another girl and said he was leaving me for her.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, the tears bud up and your lip starts to quiver. Sodapop immediately sits up and pulls you into his arms and you cry into his well-built shoulder. Through the walls you tried to put up, they immediately fell down.

His hand runs slowly, patting a little bit. It shows that he's there for you, letting you know that you'll be alright. You pull away and Sodapop’s hands go to your face and he makes you look up at him. “You didn't deserve him at all. He was such a dick— you didn't deserve any of that to happen.” The words are foreign to your ears, but Sodapop’s care isn't.

“You are so worth it, and absolutely loved. Rich had no idea how much you love.” You laugh before hugging him tightly. You always felt better with Sodapop as if he was a drug, but he radiated sunshine and happiness. “Thank you, god just thank you.”

You lay in his arms, and he scratches the back of your neck. You slowly relax and stretch out your bones as you begin to get undeniably tired. “Stay here tonight. I'll bring you home in the morning.”

#🍂 — 350 follower celebrations — daniellarussoo #sodapop curtis angst #sodapop x reader #sodapop imagine #the outsiders sodapop #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop curtis #sodapop curtis x y/n #sodapop curtis x you

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

by David Hume Kennerly

* * *

PLEASE DON’T THANK ME FOR MY SERVICE THIS VETERAN’S DAY

NOV 11, 2023

Please don't thank me for my "service." I was in the military, not the "Service." Service is doing something good. Service is what the person does who fixes your car. When the word "service" is applied to the military, it helps to justify violence as a method for conflict resolution. Like "defending our freedom," or "bringing democracy," the word "service" is used to lower the barriers of aggression. The military solution to conflict is death and destruction. That's not "service." Call it what it is - the military. If you have to hurt someone to solve a problem, you are the Problem. -- Arnold Stieber, US Army Veteran, 1970

I have absolutely no problem understanding exactly what Mr. Stieber wrote above, “back in the day,” with the white-hot heat of youth and the thorough pissed-offness of someone who had seen the side of life nobody ever wants to see. It’s the attitude I came home with from that same war, five years before he did.

I’ve never really gotten used to the new tradition of the past 30 years, for civilians - on discovering they are in the presence of someone who served in the military, - to say “Thank you for your service.” I have very mixed emotions about that. On the one hand, it’s nice that maybe a fourth of them have a clue why they’re saying what they are, that it isn’t merely the mouthing of polite words. On the other hand, I’m not sure why anyone would want to thank someone who served in the war I served in, or the ones that followed.

The war in Vietnam made everything in America worse. For just one thing, it harmed the economy when the government adopted a policy of both “guns” and “butter,” which led to the severe inflation of the 1970s, which gave companies looking for any way to reduce costs to start taking a hard line on employee compensation, which leaves us in the condition where the average American working stiff now makes less in terms of buying power than they did 50 years ago, I don’t know about you, but I’m not up to thanking anyone for that.

Of course, thinking further on this leads one to the obvious conclusion that it wasn’t the kids who got drafted who did any of that. They weren’t sitting in the halls of government thinking about how to distract the citizenry from the fact that this particular imperial war was going bad in all ways, and coming up with the idea of keeping taxes down in a period of increased government spending for things that go “BOOM!” while making sure they could get that new car every three years like they always did. Those decisions are the ones that led to the situation I mentioned above. Made by guys who mostly never got shot at, even in the war they did serve in.

In my experience during my time in the Navy and the years after knowing other vets and working with them, there were very few of us who “wanted” to go to war. Most of my fellow sailors were in the Navy because they figured joining the Navy and getting trained for a good job and “seeing the world” beat the daylights out of being in the Army, so much so it was worth a couple extra years over the two years a draftee served. Ditto the Air Force. Even the Marines were forced to start taking draftees after 1966, when they ran low on guys who believed what John Wayne told them in “Sands of Iwo Jima.”

As close as anyone got to “wanting” to go was when those of us who had joined before the war received the first orders sending us to the war. As my friend Phil Caputo wrote in “A Rumor of War” (a “Vietnam book” you should read), when he learned he and his fellow Marines were headed to DaNang in South Vietnam in 1965, “I thought to myself that when it was over and I went home, I’d be able to look my Tarawa-veteran father in the eye.” I know many others - including me, son of the guy who survived the Kamikazes - the sons of the “greatest generation” who had grown up with all the stories about our father’s “good war,” who “played war” with the cast-off gear from that war, who had similar thoughts.

Vietnam was the last war fought with draftees, and you can bet your bottom dollar today’s leaders will never go back to that system. The draft made everyone think about the war, whether they had to worry about getting drafted out of whatever working class job they had (or didn’t have); even the kids with student deferments had to think about the war when they didn’t work hard enough to keep their grades up and maintain their 2-S status. Mothers and fathers and aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters and friends all had to worry about someone they knew and loved going off to that war. Whether they “supported the president” or came to understand that the war wasn’t worth the loss of that life they knew and loved, they came in the middle of the night to hate the war. And eventually that made itself known in politics. The makers of war became constrained in the war they could make by the lack of support from those who gave them their jobs with their votes.

I’ll tell you something. After I came back, I did all I could to end that draft. But I would be very happy to see it brought back today.

No deferments. The sons and daughters of the rich serve right alongside the sons and daughters of the poor - like they did in World War II. It’ll make the entitled little shits into something better. And it really does unify - it’s hard to hate people you know by name.

But mostly I’m in favor of that because it makes it almost impossible for “They” to decide to fight a 20 year war in Afghanistan, or Iraq. They can’t do it because too many people will be paying attention. And getting pissed off at them. And voting.

But no, for exactly the reasons I am for the draft, the “all-volunteer” army is here to stay. You can’t fight 20-year wars in hellholes nobody knows without it. That way, only about 1-2 percent of the population ever has to think about the war - the kids who join up because they don’t have a future that looks better than what the military offers, their families, their friends - not a big enough group that if they got upset they could muster any political changes, unlike all those folks 50 years ago.

Most of all, if you’re going to thank me or any of us for our service, don’t try to honor us as “heroes.” For one thing, most of us aren’t, and for another, if you haven’t been in the military you really have no idea what being a hero in that context actually is.

It’s not what you think it is.

An old Navy Chief once explained “being a hero” to me: “When you’re so terrified that your brain is so frozen you can’t think, and you’ve pissed your pants and shit your drawers, and you just know you’re going to die, and you still do your job - THAT is being a hero.”

Not the definition too many in our society nowadays want to hear.

“But, Tom,” you say, “don’t you write all these best-selling books about wars and heroes? You must really love war to think about it so much.”

If you have gotten anything even remotely like that from reading any of my books, you really need to reconsider that decision not to take that remedial course in reading comprehension.

Yes, I do honor those out there in the mud and the blood and the ooze. And I appreciate knowing the ones who were out there in the mud and the blood and the ooze and survived to come back to the world of the living. That’s because their willingness to do that has a lot to do with why there is that world of the living to come back to.

Or at least that’s true in the World War II books. That’s the last war that could be divided into the Good Guys and the Bad Guys.

Except it kind of can’t. I’ve known too many guys who served on “the other side” who are just as nice - if not nicer - than anyone I have met from “the good side.”

In fact some of them must be better than anyone who served on this side. That’s a small list. But every guy who served in Vietnam and then had the opportunity to later meet the people they were trying to kill at the time, has met people who have been willing to forgive them for My Lai and Agent Orange and Rolling Thunder and all the rest of it, and offer friendship. And the ones on that side who I have been privileged to meet are definitely honorable men.

A late friend of mine who was a leading ace in “the good war” once told me when we were at a convention of those guys and the honored guests at the event were the guys who they’d been out to kill: “The secret nobody knows is, we always thought the guys we were fighting were the only ones who knew what we were going through. We actually thought we were closer to them than to the other people who were on our side.” I’ve heard similar sentiments from former infantrymen as well as former fliers, so it’s not some “guild of the elite” or “honorable brotherhood.”

Although it probably is an “honorable brotherhood.” The brotherhood of people who were willing to do what it took to defend what they loved - and believe it or not that even applies to the Germans; most of them knew as much about the “larger issues” going on, the terrible things, as any young guy in the US military did in the war I fought. And when they did find out, they were shocked too. The people who did the terrible things tried to keep them secret from everyone else, because they knew they were doing terrible things.

My friend Jim Wright, who’s become well-known in social media in recent years for some straight-shooting talk from a retired Chief Warrant Officer, wrote:

“Mostly we veterans are just people who came when called and did our best under terrible circumstances.”

I’ll end with a quote from a guy who did know what it took to do all that stuff:

“Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. This is not a way of life at all in any true sense. Under the clouds of war, it is humanity hanging on a cross of iron.”

― Dwight D. Eisenhower, Soldier, General, President

[TCinLa :: Thats Another Fine Mess]

#war #the draft #history #Vietnam #soldiers #veterans #thank you for your service #the military #the military industrial complex #Dwight D. Eisenhower #TCinLA #Thats Another Fine Mess